The Way I See It

What's Become of You?

2012-01-12T10:20:00.002-05:00

You know when you were little, and you always wondered how you'd be when you grew up? You'd touch your chin (or other parts of your anatomy) and think when will the beard (pubes) grow? And how weird will it be when it does? And then you'd see how the grown ups were pretty strong, and they could run for hours or lift a huge-ass TV (the CRTs we had back in the day, not the LCDs of today). And you see them kick a ball half way across the field, or hit the ball over 200m with a driver, and you'd think 'when will I ever get to do that?'

And before you know it, you're already doing that. All of that.

Yet it doesn't feel the same.

You don't feel as great a twentysomething as you once thought twentysomethings were. When you were a kid, people your age now seemed more responsible, more matured, more... grown up (for lack of a better word).

But that's probably just because what you thought back then wasn't realistic (you were a kid after all).

But what if the child you--the you from when you were six or nine or 15--could see you now today? What if he or she could come over to this point in time and look at you and see you and talk to you. Would they be impressed? Would they be ashamed? Would they be shocked? What would they have to say? What would they ask?

I'm writing this on the back of realizing I had just snubbed my parents twice in the space of three days to read a book. I can paint it any which way I want--I needed some quiet, I needed 'me' time, the book was important (it wasn't), and so on and so forth--but the bottom line is I chose a book over family.

What would 12-year-old me say to this? I think he'd say--no, I think he'd scream--"What the fuck were you thinking? A book?! Kalau konsert ke apa ke takpe gak!" But he is a wuss. So it would most probably be a very nervous "But why would you do that..? And for a book..? I can understand if it was something more important, but..." He immediately hates me because at this age, he thinks it isn't cool reading books (hates school) and working in a bank-that's-not-quite-a-bank (dreams of being an architect). I tell him I also recently started a regime of oatmeal for breakfast every day, and that I have grown used to 'kurang manis' tea and coffee, and sometimes even have them without sugar at all. And I almost never take Coke, unless I'm in a cinema because it washes down the popcorn. And I know this comes as a shock to him because he loves Coke, and thinks old people are a bit weird with their tasteless drinks and kencing manis worries ("How does tea with too much sugar lead to amputating your foot?"). I can see him begin to question his own being. As if he couldn't believe he'll fall to the Dark Side. I tell him I can now tee off further than Papa, but he is unmoved. He wouldn't believe I am him, or that he will turn into me, although deep down inside his heart of hearts, he knows. He knows.

The 19-year-old me is excessively happy. He is optimistic about everything and for some reason I don't like him. I want to burst his bubble by letting him know what will transpire, but refrain, knowing that that's the most carefree, jumping around meadows throwing flowers in his head, cheesy happiness he would experience for quite a while (and I'm being modest here). To my surprise (or should I have expected this?) he doesn't ask. No questions about the future. Is he too cocky, or is he taking things for granted? Or does he really believe in the whole 'forever and ever' thing? So I tell him everything except how his love life pans out. He will love eighties music--the cheesy, sappy, low self esteem power ballads and glam rock especially. He will start to like sayur more than ever, especially terung for some reason. He will like oatmeal (without sugar) and have his coffee or tea black only and of course kurang manis. He will have simple wants, but in this world dominated by sophistication and poyo, his requests for minimalism would ironically make him look like the demanding diva he oh-so-wants to avoid being likened to. He will almost never find a watch he likes because they all have stupid fancy bezels and useless stopwatches and dual time and three small clockfaces on the clockface proper, and he also will--in due time--develop a hatred for watches whose second hand does not 'tick-tock' (those annoying ones that go round continuously). He will swallow his words and do many things he thought he wouldn't--like trying weed or smokes or gambling or going to a club or keeping his hair long. He tells me "If that's how it pans out--and you seem pretty fine--then I guess okay la kan?" I want to say he will eventually hate everyone around him who is as in-your-face happy and smug as he is right now but the words don't come out. This one he should discover himself.

Seven-year-old me would just keep quiet and nod. He knows where he stands in the world--a timid Darjah Satu student who's way out of his depth in school, who's afraid of the hundreds of faces around him chatting and laughing and crying and playing, and who is very socially awkward. He's learned that shutting the hell up and listening to others is the best course of action for every situation, every time. All his enthusiasm of being able to interact, to learn and whatnot--it's all gone. So he'd nod, and he'll answer 90% of your questions with a nod or a shake of the head, but all the while stare at you with his big round eyes, barely blinking. Which is why he would just nod away as I tell him I am him, and I have done certain things his teachers told him not to, and that I read a book instead of going out with the parents. Ah, there it is, he furrowed his eyebrow at me! He disapproves, yet stays quiet. I do not know if this says more about him or about me or how he turned into me.

The me in Form Five is much more confident, if only because of a very illuminating experience (and relations) he had throughout the year. At the sight of me, he would probably say "Bahah!" in a way that you couldn't tell if it was a laugh, a smirk or a scoff. He has done much growing up and is very similar to me. Most people wouldn't know if he was being sarcastic or serious. His face will always be stern yet it could probably be a freaking musical in his head. I want to ask him why he never took up poker, but then I realize of course I know the answer. I spare him certain details, for fear of him cheating--I don't want him to know he didn't end up an architect. I only tell him I studied to America ("WHAT? How the hell do you practice here kalau macam tu?") and I have a pretty decent job with a pretty decent pay ("Well, baru start kan... Can't expect to be doing much, can you?") and that we moved to PJ ("Ya ke? PJ? Okay") and that I spent a shit load of time and money in my four years abroad buying shoes--lots of them--and books--lots of that too ("What's with the shoes, weh? And... are they the classics--did I get into that somehow? Or Tom Clancy kinda thing or just any books or flavour of the month novels? Because I read as slow as shit and you know that"). And I say I can't help but buy all the award winning books because I feel they are important enough to warrant a read. And then I'd also tell him I still read as slow as shit but I buy more books a year then I can read anyway so my backlog only ever gets longer. ("Wouldn't that be such a waste, though?"). And I'd do the "Bahah!" thing, and he'd smile knowingly. I tell him I never bother with contact lenses because I'd rather sleep for five more minutes, and he raises an eyebrow ("Some things don't change, eh?"). I see that he's been fidgeting and uneasy the whole time, and I know he's dying to ask the more pertinent questions (he is sixteen, after all), and I answer them one by one. I can tell I have his attention, and his interest because now he is smiling (which he rarely does) and his smile shows teeth too. But I also tell him he'll fuck things up pretty bad too, so don't get his hopes too high, and he bites his lip and shrugs it off ("Win some, lose some."). I like him. He's very idealistic. It's sad to know that so much of this has disappeared due to burn out or due to conforming with everyone else. He doesn't know what I'm talking about, though. Because he only thinks of at most four things--only four, and nothing comes after them or could replace them. He only sees what's in front of him--never beyond that. So he's not that grown up yet.

A nine-year-old me would obviously freak out if I told him what's become of me. But this is only because he was caught peeping under a girl's skirt (she was standing on the desk beside him, yelling out at the class), and was warned by his teacher that any other funny business from him would result in severe punishment which he could never bear (perhaps being sent to the head mistress' office to be asked "Apa nak jadi dengan kamu ni?") and that he was being blackmailed 'duit Milo' on a daily basis by his 'friends' who would threaten to tell the teacher about the time he taught them about the birds and the bees and how men can actually do it with other men and what the words 'lancap' and 'fuck' meant. He lived in fear for much of that year. He was subdued. But he read his first book! It was The Raja Bahrin Story and he absolutely loved it. He then read two more proper novels by the end of the year--the best he'd do for a few years--so he obviously has the highest regard for my mini library. At least this one was impressed, even if only a little. I won't let him ask me any questions because I know the only thing that bothered me in 1997 was why people cared so much about the death of a divorced former princess, who wasn't even that pretty and had short hair.

As usual, I save the best for last. Now is the me from two years ago. This is the hardest because the difference isn't so drastic that we're two different people, yet it's far enough for him to want to know how his current decisions will pan out. In his present state he is numb and depressed and has lost all his joy. He cares not so much for logic or reality so he immediately believes I am who I am and asks me "Does it get any better?" and I stay quiet for a bit, wet my lip, breathe in through clenched teeth and say "Only slightly, to be honest". His forehead immediately shows at least five folds. My god, and he's barely 21. I want to pat him on the back, or ruffle his hair and say it's not that bad, but I feel that self-bromance is a little too weird for me to handle so I keep my distance. We still wear the same pair of glasses, although mine has some of its paint peeling off. He's probably secretly very happy that they'd last a few more years, and that despite the peeling paint, it doesn't rust. At least I think so. I wonder if he judges me for that. I decide he doesn't. He may have been an asshole to many, but he's not a complete and comprehensive one. He knows the longer he wears them the cheaper their cost per year will be. And then he'll stick it to the contact lens snobs. Which is ironic because that's pretty assholic too. But this is him, in a nutshell. His motives are never clear, and almost never 'correct'. I ask him if he has any questions, but he shakes his head and lets out a meek "No". He doesn't care for knowing what will be. I titillate him by asking if he wants to know what my job is like, or how the new house is, but he is too pragmatic and he only says in return "I'm sure it's all fine" because he knows what the parents will and will not accept and what I will and will not accept. So out of frustration, I tell him I got Mama's car ("It's even under my name now, ha!") and he shoots a stare at me and says "Really? That thing can still work?" so I tell him it's a little rough around the edges, gear changes aren't the smoothest ever, but it's alright, and he says "Ah, well, take good care of it. Jaga baik-baik. It could last you quite some time, that car". I want to tell him he'll be fine. Hell, I'm here, surely he should be optimistic about something? He is unhappy but I don't want to talk about it because I know when I bring it up he'll roll his eyes and say under his breath "Macam la kau tak tau, en?" But I ask anyway. I ask him if he was so depressed why doesn't he talk about it? He says it's pointless and a waste of time, especially since no one could help, and he had a degree to complete, and that every time he complained, someone else would have a worse/more dramatic story to tell, effectively 'stealing his thunder', so why even bother. So I ask him then, of all the bridges in Pittsburgh he crosses every day, how come he never jumped off any, if he was so depressed, if he was so sad, so heartbroken, so lonely? He smiles weakly and says "Because that would be too easy".

And this is where the twist happens--because twists only happen at the end. I am always the one with knowledge of the what will be--they were always privileged to hear I had to say. But suddenly the tables have been turned and Future Me appears. Now I'm the one with the lump in my throat, thinking 'Oh, shit, what am I gonna be?' as I suppress a shiver and take his hand. He tells me despite all the conclusions I made about the other mes, I'm just as "not grown up" as them. Because this was supposed to be about what they would think or say but I have somehow made it all about me.

Let's Get Grammar-y and Shit

2011-12-17T15:13:00.007-05:00

Simple one first.

Deadline
The closing date. The submission date. The last moment for you to do something. Hence 'dead'. Please don't misuse this again.

Dateline
That city/date combination at the beginning of news reports. Ever heard of those? No? Well, you know those annoying toilet paper things your parents waste RM1.00 on every day to read pointless stuff on? It's the stuff printed on that thing. And in the days before news was reported by jane24 or @ahmadT (follow me!) who could be anywhere in the world sitting smugly with a cup of coffee watching a Skype feed of a riot instead of being on-site, real news was reported by a real person with the city's name and reporting date stamp at the beginning. The city's name would all be in capital letters, so you'd have to be quite oblivious (or stupid, really) to not notice this. It sort of goes like this.

KUALA LUMPUR, DEC 17---Yours truly attended Ruth Sahanaya's 25th anniversary concert tonight...

In case you still couldn't notice it, I made it bold, underlined it, italicised it, and even used a different font. Here it is again, unchanged, for your comparison.

KUALA LUMPUR, DEC 17---Yours truly attended Ruth Sahanaya's 25th anniversary concert tonight...

Simple. Also, don't confuse this with the International Date Line, which is the line that separates one day from another, somewhere near Samoa. Crossing this line westward sends you one day forward; eastward sends you one day back.

Now here's an interesting one: Why is it never a "ten-years plan"?

I honestly don't know what the rule is called but I should have this line in bold so you'll know this is the next thing
As a noun (if you don't know what that is, please print this page if you can, crumple it up, and go fuck yourself), numbers stick to the normal rule. No hyphens. Pluralise if it's more than one. Simple. It gets complicated when you use numbers to describe something, like a 'ten-year plan'.

She is eighteen years old.
That's her twenty-year-old brother.

For some reason, in the second case, all three words (or however many it takes to form the phrase) are joined together to form an adjective of sorts. And for some godforsaken reason, you don't have to pluralise--nay, you are forbidden from pluralising! (I did the whole font, underline, bold thing again, so you know I mean business).

Another common misconception of the need for a hyphen would be in the word 'long-term'. Or was that 'long term'? See what I did there? Ha! Anyway, same thing as above, really.

Results will be noticeable in the long term.
This is why it's a called long-term programme.

Rules for hyphenation go much deeper than this, but you'll rarely use it anyway, so I can't be bothered. Apparently adjectivising (is that even a word?) any word that has an -ed suffix requires a hyphen. Hot-headed, for one. But of course we couldn't give a rat's ass, so we can cross that bridge when we get there.

And how do we substitute?

Substitute Crisco for butter
Does that mean I'm using Crisco instead of butter? Or vice versa? Sometimes it sounds like the former is right. Sometimes, it's the latter.

It's the former. You substitute something new/better for something old/not as good. But you change something old/broken for something new/better. So be careful when using "substitute". As a follower of soccerball, I--just as many others--have been corrupted by years of ill-informed punditry and commentary about who goes off the field and is replaced by who.

Substitute A for B: A comes on for B
Substitute A with/by B: B comes on for A
Change A for B: B comes on for A
Replace A with B: B comes on for A

Next up, the difference 'a' makes.

A few & Few
Let's take this sentence as an example:

We've had (a) few problems.

Is that a complaint or is that brushing it off in a rather 'meh' manner? Let's see, then.

"A few" sort of means "many" but with a slight extra to it, as if there were more than is desired, but toned down. It's just an annoyingly modest way of saying "many" without explicitly saying it. Expanded, this sentence can sound more positive or negative, depending on the context:

We've had a few problems but we're fine.
We've had a few problems so we're in the shit.

Here, the number of problems is more than the speaker would wish. There emphasis on the amount of problems, but the speaker is holding back to be modest. Try substituting "many" for "a few" (hey, we're already applying shit we learned!).

The opposite is true for "few" (without the preceding 'a'); the connotation to this is that the number is less than is desired. Here's the sentence, expanded:

We've had few problems--it's okay, really.

In this case, the number is so small it's negligible. Here's an easy tip to help you out. Just add "quite" and/or "very" and it'll all make sense.

We've had quite a few problems but we're fine.
We've had very few problems--it's nice, really.

This also sometimes applies to "(a) little", by the way.

Why is it like this? Well, I suppose these are like 'its' and 'it's'. It could all have been much less ambiguous. It'd surely have saved millions of teachers having to remind their kids a bajillion times "Apostrophe 'it's', only for 'it is'! Non-apostrophe 'its', only for self reference!"

A similar case is evident in Bahasa Melayu (or Bahasa Malaysia, who gives a shit anymore?) by having the passive voice prefix di- and having the preposition (kata sendi) di. A million signboards out there are wrongwrongwrong! because the geniuses entrusted with this task don't know the difference: Di Larang Buang Sampah; Dapatkan Disini!

But to be fair, way back in the days when people started to actually give a shit about all these rules, they probably weren't as well connected or as well informed as we are now; many must not have gotten the memo. They probably only had candlelight at night--or in the day, if they lived in caves. I don't know. Also, back then people in different areas would obviously have very different understandings (think British-American spelling discrepancy). Yet look at what they've done. Credit to them--no, bow down, doff your cap, worship and peluk-cium them if possible--for what they accomplished. We have so much these days--the internet, the smart-ass phones, the fancy computers, Google and all that jazz (and also all that jizz, badum-pish!)--but honestly, how many times have you Googled about language or grammar? I did some these past two weeks, but only because of work (Ampersand or 'and'? To hyphen or not?). Nowadays, despite having all the help we can get, we've only sped up the fucking up of all their effort.

It's sad, really.

Einstein, Newton and Pascal Play Hide and Seek

2011-11-26T06:20:00.002-05:00

Einstein counts; Pascal runs away; and Newton draws a 1m × 1m box around himself.

Einstein immediately yells "Aha! I have found you Newton!"

But Newton calmly says "No, my friend. You have found one Newton per square meter. Thus you have found Pascal!"

Gotta love geeky jokes :D

Seey Yoy Tomorroy Noight At Stay-dium Poot-chrah, Bookit Juhleel!

2011-11-08T09:57:00.006-05:00

FAO radio deejays and/or the idiots who are in charge of the hiring and firing of them

Why are there only three types of deejays?

First you have the anchorman-esque guy who speaks fluently and clearly and who would most certainly be the voice of the next public service message. Ross, I think, from Light & Easy or LightFM or whatever they're called now, is the best example. My current pet peeve, apart from the excruciatingly annoying Delicia Waffle ad, is his thing about his friends Lai Ming (sounds like the Chinese girls school tepi KLCC) and an Indian boy and how they were like the poster boys for muhibbah and how this whole 1Malaysia bullshit was how we were and how we still can be. As far as I'm concerned, all I take out of that is that "we're not". But anyway, deejays like him are fine, especially for a station like Light. He may sound boring, he may even sound like your dad--but sometimes you need simplicity. None of that energy or chaos. Just a relaxing (or boring, if you're that cynical) voice to transition you into the next song. I guess he appeals to the demographic. For fuck's sake, they play "Tie A Yellow Ribbon Round The Old Oak Tree". Paham-paham ah kan.

Next up is the annoying twentysomething hipster. They exude coolness and are (sometimes) funny, but, true to the "never went full retard" philosophy of appeal, have a ridiculous fear or vulnerability, gaining them your sympathy or at least an "awwh". These are the ones with a little too much energy, and try so hard to be funny. Sometimes, maybe they even try a little too hard and it gets very lame. They will scream and laugh and be giggling like a 14-year old girl, whether or not they're a guy or girl. Sometimes, their mengada-ness is actually annoying, when they in fact tried to be endearing. I suppose most radio deejays are like this. Perhaps, with a bit of censorship and editing, this paragraph could be a job ad for radio stations? I'm not saying that just because they don't appeal to me, they fail at doing their jobs. No. I'm pretty far away from your average twentysomething. If I have to have the radio, I'll only tune in to Mix or Light. If they can both conspire to disappoint me, then it's Traxx. But alas, I digress. I can understand that you want to appeal to the biggest chunk of the segment and whatnot. But none of them are household names, nor are they rockstars of their industry. Perhaps a change to spice things up?

I know I said three, but I kind of forgot about the third type. In fact, I just realized that my beef is actually with the idiots who record advertisements. And coincidentally At The Beginning just started playing (fuck you, Anastasia's an awesome flick), so let's rewind shall we?

FAO radio advertisement voices and/or the idiots who are in charge of the hiring and firing of them

These are the true culprits. Why do they sound Australian? No. Ows-tryl-yun. Seriously. Why can't a Malaysian radio station pronounce Malaysian names properly? I went to see David Foster & Friends, which was awesome. But the day before the show, I heard an ad for the customary free tickets contest. Yet the voice was Australian. No. Ows-tryl-yun. "Seey yoy tomorroy noight at Stay-dium Poot-chrah, Bookit Juhleel!" he said. Juhleel. Fuck me, are we all that crazy for Mat Sallehs that even an annoyingly thick Aussie accent is what we need? It's not like it was one-off. We've had these Aussie-sounding ads for years now. I doubt Australia enjoys listening to someone with a Glaswegian or Ah Beng accent for all their goings on. Get rid, please. Go scout any public speaking class/contest and pay him/her for your ads. Apa susah sangat?

If they don't sound Australian--no, Ows-tryl-yun--idiots in ads (adiots?) will try as best as is possible to conform to a Malaysian stereotype. You have the Ah Beng ("Eh, we same-same la, Boss. I oso do like dat wan! Chree time you know!"). You can just imagine him picking his gold tooth with his three inch-long pinkie fingernail as he persuades you to buy godknowswhat. Then you have the Macha, whose every W vill be a V (see what I did there?), or was that V becomes W? And their every word that ends in T or D will have it amplified. Like a qalqalah. Go ask your Muslim friend what that means. An Arab-speaker might know this, too. Is tajwid Arabic grammar, then? Or is it just for reading the Quran? If you do know, drop me a line. Anyway. I'm surprised there isn't a conservative "tak baik lah" Minah Tudung option. Perhaps they are confined to Era only. That would make sense, I guess. But what would I know about Era.

Last, but not least, would be the musical ads. Of course radio is for your aural pleasure only, so you make the best of sounds. And music is catchy. Listen to radio for two hours and rate the musical ads you hear. Before you're done, you've probably cut your ears off, then shot yourself to end the misery. Off the top of my head, the current 'favourites' are Delicia Waffles, Sunwhite Rice and newcomer Poslaju. Delicia uses an original composition (at least I think so), but they score no points for originality, and overachieve when it comes to annoyingness:

I love my waffles, Delicia waffles. I love em with ice cream, I love em with honey. They're yummy yummy yummy... !@#$^%&^&*()(*&%%$ ...waffle-waffle-waffle... waffle-waffle-waffle... waffle-waffle-waffle

Gardenia used to have such a simple and nice ad for their bread. Then they fucked it up with a fancy-schmancy guitar riff and whatnot and have a full song about....bread. No one gives a shit. They buy it, sapu peanut butter, telan. And now they have Delicia, which must mean they thought the bread ad was a success. Maybe (and I shudder at the thought)... it was. Now, if you haven't ripped an ear off yet, Sunwhite Rice will definitely make you do it. Seriously:

Mommmmmmmmy loves the Sunwhite Rice, Sunwhite Rice, Sunwhite Rice
Mommmmmmmmy loves the Sunwhite Rice, AAA for quality!

Going to the tune of London Bridge, this abomination of an ad is sung by a Chinese girl who--if you've heard it many enough times--sounds like she knows how stupid it is, but is simply acting professionally to get the job done to get paid. It is that bad. I'll let you judge the Poslaju ad yourselves. They can't even get the syllables right, for fuck's sake.

Remember the days of "755-2525! 755-2525! Pizza Hut Special Delivery"? They don't make 'em like they used to, I guess.

This is Malaysia. At the end of every sentence we add lah and kan and meh or mah and of course, doh. Regardless of whether or not it's English or Malay we try to speak, it kind of sounds the same at times. Obviously there'll be a bias towards one language but you get the point. But for all the rojakness of our language and the sheer stupidity of the people, come the fuck on--we can't be that dumb to only be attracted to the stereotype? Or annoying songs and jingles?

Why?

And So It Has Begun

2011-10-22T01:58:00.000-04:00

Work, that is.

You see, despite being a central bank scholar for five years, I never quite knew what the fuck we do. All I knew was that we're a bank that's not quite a bank. And all the time we're told great things are expected of us because historically the scholars tend to do better. Right. No pressure then.

There is almost no point in my degree. My four years in university in Pittsburgh--yes. But the degree? Not really. It's been three months since I've joined this 9-to-6 rat race, and I can't quite think of anything from my classes that is reflected in any of my work. But my Excel and Powerpoint skillz (yes, that's with a 'Z'), knowledge of funky 'new' business models (which have been around for years in USA), and of esurance ads ("Technology when you want them, people when you don't")--all of which I garnered through four years in the Steel City--has somehow helped me as I slave away in my cubicle. Also, the cubicle. It's kinked. It can fit six people per island. Not very cubish at all.

But anyway, work isn't as bad as people say. And I say this despite having seven (7) supervisors who can, at any time of the day, call me to menghadap and discuss whatever or just to pass me something due besok before lunch please. They are all sat around me from my one o'clock all the way counterclockwise to my four o'clock. It's a pain at times, but I have to say getting praised for a job well done, or just doing it efficiently or improving on the current process--well it just gives you a sense of satisfaction. And I enjoy this. Somewhat.

My only beef with the workplace comes in the form of the kiasus who can't shut up about their KPIs, as well as broken Engrish. The former first. Anyone who's a fresh grad will not know shit, no matter how high their CGPA, or how classy their British degree is. Even someone who with a shitload of experience will not know the machinations of a new organization. This is a simple fact that any 14-year old can tell you. So why are we banging on about how it's unfair that we can't get high ratings and whatnot? Wait your turn, work your way up. Even if you were born with a silver spoon in your mouth your dad's penis probably put it there. Or your mom's gyne; it doesn't just appear from nowhere. Again, this is a simple fact that any 14-year old can tell you. Fine, maybe not the gyne part but you get my point. If you really are that good, prove it. And that requires time. You don't just have to show that you're awesome. You also have to show that you're not an idiot either. Sure, you did good last week. But will you do the same this week? And next? Really, just shut up and deal with it.

My biggest achievement during my first month was to get someone to say 'expedite' correctly, instead of expedeet. What was good about it (at least I thought so) was the manner in which I did so. I just kept saying it right until said person finally said it right. It made me happy. My lips may not have moved, but I was smiling from ear to ear on the inside. Previously, I have always been the better one; I had a certain authority about me when it came to speaking the language, despite mistakes of my own every now and then. However, in an office where you're the most junior member (and youngest, at that) and you have to deal with people who are mothers and grandfathers and whatnot, how do you say oh that's wrong, it should be this instead? Actually that sounded quite good/okay. Funny how I never thought of that before. But that's one small battle. I can only say I've made a substantial contribution to the war once I rid the office/department/organization from saying 'develop' as 'devlep'. That's the Big One. The Holy Grail. Anyway. That's only pronunciation. There's also grammar (haih), misuse of my beloved apostrophe, and of course the lack of use of the page break in Word.

Okay, that last one isn't English per se. But still. When printing stuff, it should be in Arial 12. But for the warga emas, they kind of want it in Arial 14, double-spaced. And what happens when you increase the font size and spacing? The charts get fucked up, and the title is the last line of the page and that's just not pretty or befitting of something from our department/organization innit. Had these geniuses embraced the wonder of the page break--it's Alt+Enter in Word, UPA--the lives of so many people would be made much easier, blood pressure levels won't be so high, and well, thing would be better.

Unsolved Mysteries

2011-07-02T16:47:00.003-04:00

I see this logo every day (at least when I'm in Malaysia). And ever since I first saw it God knows how many years ago, I have always wondered why the hell the white N has a taller spine than the red one. Why? That extra white space up there just pisses me off. When I see it, my eyes are immediately attracted to it. It looks like a red N in a white H. I have no qualms with the right 'leg' being thicker; the red and white parts are the same. I have no issue with the white N/H's legs touching each other, effectively isolating the blue bit in the middle away from the rest of its peers. Just that stupid white spot up top.

And it taunts me. It mocks me. "I'm here. No matter how much you disagree with me. You don't know why I'm like this. And you'll just have to deal with it." I don't know about the rest of the world, but here in Malaysia, the paint industry's advertizing is pretty aggressive so that N-in-an-H is pretty much ubiquitous. I doubt it's a household name, but I'm sure most people would know what it is. So not only do I see it everywhere, I think about it sometimes. Which means I think of that white spot. And it's come to a point where all it says to me is a simple, short and sweet "Fuck off" because it knows what I'm thinking.

I may or may not have made my peace with this stupid eyesore. But I guess I actually like this relationship between man and irritating logo anomaly. Obviously holding a grudge against something that only exists in your head is a tad bit off the mark, but to be fair, I would prefer the more colorful story. In this new house of ours, everything looks new and somewhat ... lifeless. It has no history, no mark, nothing. It's like a hotel--pretty, but emotionless. Then I dropped a bottle of thinner on the floor and it ate into the varnish and I now have a weird spot that's a million times more of an eyesore than the afore-mentioned white spot. Even when touched up, you could still see a puke-like stain. And suddenly this room feels like my own. So, back to the point: weird is more interesting than normal.

Some things are best left unsaid. Or unknown. Even if you can find out. Easily. You can Google it, use Yahoo! Answers or Ask Jeeves or whatever. Or just use facebook or whichever online forum you subscribe to and get 99 assholic/annoying/takde kaitan/useless/piece-of-shit answers before someone actually points you in the right direction. Things that are unknown to us always hold a certain mystique. Like the Moon. Or the sea (bed). Or Area 51. Aliens. Yet the truth has two sides--we also have the unknowns that serve only to sakitkan hati. The ones that are always there bugging you. Little things too insignificant for you to give two shits about. Yet annoyingly persistent, like an irritating gnat. Or this white spot. But is it a bad thing? Should we spend any and all of our free time finding out the silly little things we've always wanted to know?

You see, someday someone's gonna tell me something like "Oh, the logo is supposed to look like a siput, that's why it's like that" for instance, and everything about the logo will make sense to me. And suddenly my old pal the white spot doesn't exist anymore. He's there. But I won't see him. Nor will I hear him. I don't want that, somehow.

Ignorance is bliss in cases like this. So why ruin a good thing.

Free Range Meat Idiots

2011-07-02T16:08:00.000-04:00

Back in the day when we were kids (the mid 90s, perhaps), no one really gave a rat's ass about where your food came from. Okay, maybe they did. But not to the extent that they questioned anything more. In Malaysia, especially--asalkan halal, it's all good. But people around the world 'progressed'. Or became 'progressive'. Or whatever. And then they decided that animals must now be treated like humans. While I agree that we should treat them ethically and with care, I feel that some may have gone a bit too far. It's almost as if they want their farmers to raise hippie cows and chickens.

I can understand giving them certain basic rights whilst in captivity. I can understand the need to feed them proper food. I can understand not making them sleep in their own shit. I can understand banning the use of steroids or other substances to enhance their growth. And I can most certainly understand the hike in the price when you incur all these additional (yet necessary) costs.

What I don't understand is the idiots out there (the very same ones who blow the "love our animals" or "free range only!" horn) who complain about how they can't eat beef anymore because it's fucking RM18 per kg.

It's kind of your fault, bruv.

Quote of the Week

2011-04-03T23:41:00.004-04:00

When suggesting a massage gift card as a birthday gift for a friend, her (you know who you are) response was:

"she won't like it. she wont let anyone touch her period."

A comma is there to make sure your sentence is grammatically perfect for a very good reason. What makes it funnier is that she can type the word 'period' but yet she can't type a comma.

Cheers :D

Acronyms

2011-03-08T20:35:00.008-05:00

If you were on facebook or Tw@tter or whatever during the last year or so--or probably even longer than that--you may have received a message such as SHJ or HB, SHR MZB! or even MC or MX! or probably HNY or GXFC. Quite some time ago I'd have ended the preceding sentence with "... from the many idiots whom you call your friends, whether by choice or not". In fact, I kind of already did by saying that. Anyway, the point here is that people are beginning to take acronyms a little too far.

Useless, meaningless phrases like WTF or ATM or BRB are, IMO, a necessary evil. They convey nothing; no emotion or anything. LOL, on the other hand, is a contradiction by definition. "Laugh out loud" (not online, as some people might think) isn't quite laughing, nor is it loud. Sure, it should be all in capital letters, but nowadays who does, really? Why send three letters to represent anything that can range from a snicker all the way to laughing until you get belly cramps? Sending an insipid lol in reply to something that made you laugh (or even smile) is just poor form.

But I digress. The lollers outnumber us; and fighting them is fighting a losing battle. But that's something we can agree to disagree seeing as to how it's not that big of a deal. The issue, then, is when you wish someone "happy birthday" with just two letters. Two. Maybe three, if you add an exclamation mark. Come on, whoever the hell he or she is, it's his/her day. It only comes once a bloody year. You can't take the effort (and time, for those of you yang berkira) to say something in full? The same goes for Hari Raya or Christmas or new year's or whatever the hell else. HMD? She fucking gave birth to you, and all you can say is HM-motherfucking-D? Even the simplest of smileys are two characters long, for fuck's sake. And with all your qwerty and touchscreen phones, or your tablets or netbooks or whatever the hell you take along with you, what's the deal? Apa susah sangat? MZB, is that how you ask for forgiveness?

I know this is petty; that it shouldn't bother me that much. But seriously, it's the little things in life isn't it? Think about it. First it's this, tomorrow it's something else, next week another, and so on and so forth. I'm actually beginning to understand what it is people mean when they say they can't bear to bring up their kids in such a terrible place. Ctrl+Tab a few times until you get to your facebook or Tw@tter tab and skim it through. Missing apostrophes, trolling or winding up for the bloody fun of it, bad or lack of punctuation, checking in wherever the hell you are, the whole 'fail', 'win' and 'epic' bullshit, or simply sentences you'd think were written by retards. We weren't brought up like that. We make these silly mistakes knowing what's right. But how will the next generation fare? Think about how you were taught in school, and how your family spoke at home. Now try putting yourself in your parent's shoes. We had skema, by-the-book authorities, who pretty much practiced what they preached. I highly doubt the same can be said today.

Again, those are all little things we can live with. But when you factor in the way everything else is changing--music, prices, society's attitudes; hell, even the way we live our lives--you just get the feeling that it's not going to be a very fun place for your kids to grow up in.

Required Hate of the Day: Idiots Who Take Forever to Get In/Out of Elevators (or Lifts).

2011-02-12T14:08:00.008-05:00

When you press the button to call the lift (or elevator), after a delay of about a second or so, it comes up to your floor. This delay is expected. Yet it's meaningless, even if you were in a rush because you know it has to start up and whatnot.

And then there are times when the lift doesn't come to you directly. It stops somewhere along the way. Fine, you think, it's just a couple of seconds since apa lah susahnya nak keluar/masuk lif kan? Door opens, walk through, door closes. Even if you had something to carry or you were on a mobility buggy, it won't take that much longer. So that's another few seconds then, no biggie.

But then there are those very rare times--perhaps more than two standard deviations away from the norm--when you have something really heavy to carry or you get something stuck, then maybe, just maybe, it'll take a few minutes. But these things only happen like, what, once a week? Once a month?

This building doesn't have ADA-friendly ramps, so no one with a buggy lives/comes here. It's mostly students, who obviously (like me) wake up 30 minutes before class and are therefore in a hurry to get to campus. Also on the college student thing, we don't have rush hours--some have their first class at 8:30AM, some have 'em at 1:30PM--so there should never be that scene where someone else keeps rushing in just when the door is about to close. You have the odd drug dealer, who would obviously want to get the fuck out of the place as soon as possible. All the old people and/or their office-clinics are on the ground floor so they never use the lifts (or elevators). There's never been a trash bag too big, or laundry too much that it takes you forever and a fucking day to shove it in the elevator (or lift) or drag it out of. These instances are not isolated to early/late in the semester when people move in/out--it happens far too often and is spread out too evenly for a possible seasonal/period effect--but even for moving in/out we have a freight elevator (or lift) for furniture.

You'd think the elevators (or lifts) would come to you really quick. You'd think.

So why is it then that, every so often, you find yourself pressing the button on your eighth floor, then staring at the display and seeing it go 1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6...6...6...6...6...6...6...6...6...6... 7... 8... *ding*? It's not just the sixth floor (that's just an example, not singling you out or anything). It's every godforsaken floor, for fuck's sake. And it's not just this building. I'm pretty sure everyone has similar experiences elsewhere.

Why?

It's not that hard, you know, this elevator (or lift) thing. It takes about six seconds from when it starts to decelerate, open its doors, you getting out/in, you pressing the button, door closes and for it to start accelerating again. Noobs don't even need hand-eye or hand-leg coordination unlike escalators. You just walk. That's something you learn even before you learn how to speak.

So tell me, why do we wait ages for an idiot on another floor? Or, better yet if you're one of those idiots reading this, what do you do that takes you so long? You know what, the wait is annoying enough as it is, but continually thinking how you idiots get in/out of a lift (or elevator) is so much more irritating than it should ever be.

Mac Sizing

2011-01-22T23:44:00.004-05:00

Dear Apple,

You are awesome--we get it. You're products are pretty and stable and great and you're top of the J.D. Power and Associates whatever thing. You blew our minds with a 10 GB mp3 player when everyone only had 128 MB. You revolutionized the whole smartphone world with your apps and whatnot. The iPhone will save the world, etc. Macs don't crash or get viruses or BSOD on our asses. Others try to imitate/emulate you with multi-touch screens and douchey pads/tablets. You lead the way. You do, others follow.

Yes. We get it.

But can you get off your high horse for once and follow in others' footsteps for once?

Those three buttons at the top right corner of every window in OSX--can you just use a similar standard to Windows/Ubuntu just so it's easier for all of us normal unturtle-necked people? Minimize to dock, maximize/restore, and close. Even lifetime Mac users complain about this.

Not only does this make so much more sense, you get to convert so many more Windows users, and you make life easier and much more simple for people.

Isn't easy and simple what you intend to do anyways? Or would we need to download an app for that?

Winter Break 2010

2011-01-08T09:59:00.001-05:00

Number of days spanned: 28
Number of countries visited: 4 (Ireland, UK, France, Belgium)
Number of cities visited: 14 (Detroit, Ann Arbor, Dublin, Belfast, London, Leeds, Bradford, Manchester, York, Liverpool, Cheshire, Lille, Paris, Brussels)
Number of airports passed: 8 (PIT, DTW, JFK, DUB, LBA, LHR, BRU, ATL)
Number of stadia/arenas visited: 4 (Motor City Casino Soundboard, The O2 Dublin, Old Trafford, Highbury)
Number of concerts attended: 2 (Air Supply, Meat Loaf)
Number of university campuses visited: 4
Number of museums visited: 4 (Westminster Abbey, The Beatles Story, National Maritime Museum, Old Trafford)

Number of nights spent at friends' places: 24
Number of friends who hosted: 6
Number of nights spent in hotels/hostels: 1
Number of nights spent in airplanes: 1
Number of nights spent in airports: 1

Number of mugs bought from friend's campuses: 0 (semua takde stock)
Number of fridge magnets bought for Fadzillah "I just bought a new fridge so buy me fridge magnets and kalau boleh beli yang getah punya" Aziz: 6
Number of movies seen: 5
Number of movies seen in cinemas: 4
Number of movies seen to simply kill time: 4
Number of movies slept through: 1 (sorry ya, Farah)
Number of French movies seen: 1
Number of runs for something: 2 (bus at Old Trafford, countdown during NYE)
Number of runs successful: 0
Number of laundry days: 3
Number of factory outlets shopped at: 1
Number of shopping arcades/centers entered: 9
Number of H&M entered: 8

Number of friends met (planned): 12
Number of friends bumped into: 9 (4 on Oxford Street on Boxing Day)
Number of friends mistaken by shopkeepers as my wife: 1
Number of friendly salah fahams: 2 (I thought "jom makan" was an invitation instead of a restaurant; I thought "subway" was the Leeds underground instead of the sandwich place that it is)
Number of times bumped into the French girl who gave us directions to the Metro station: 3
Number of times bumped into said girl, not in the direction she pointed: 3
Number of compliments received for the coat: 5
Number of people who assumed I was above 25: 4
Number of people who asked where I worked: 3
Number of times slipped: 5
Number of times fell down: 2 (first at Arsenal tube station; both after Yap arrived)

Number of airplane sectors: 7
Number of express bus sectors: 3
Number of train sectors: 5
Number of public transportation systems used: 9
Number of cab rides: 5 (all in Leeds, except one in Dublin)
Number of hours spent in airplanes: ~21
Number of hours spent in trains: slightly less than 5
Number of hours spent in cars: ~2
Number of hours spent in express buses: 13
Number of hours spent in airports: 27
Number of times stopped by customs: 2
NUmber of times late for flight: 1 (only late for baggage check in)
Number of redirections/rescheduling: 1

Number of meals at Malaysian restaurants: 2
Number of meals at Malaysian restaurants willingly: 0
Number of fish & chips eaten: 5 (3 cod, 2 haddock; 1 with mushy peas)
Number of waffles eaten: 2 (1 Brussels, 1 Liege)
Number of pieces of chicken cordon bleu we were supposed to buy: 5
Number of people supposed to buy chicken cordon bleu: 1
Number of people who bought chicken cordon bleu: 3
Number of pieces of chicken cordon bleu bought: 15
Number of crabmeat sticks in our pot of two Maggi Kari: 11

Number of cybercafes/internet kiosks visited: 2
Number of new facebook friends: ?????
Number of new songs in download list: 3
Number of new movies in must-watch list: 3
Number of new books in must-read list: 2
Number of books read: 3
Number of books bought: 5

Number of sim cards bought: 1 (Orange UK)
Number of text messages sent: >100 (Sent Items limited to 100 only)
Number of text messages received: 186
Number of "Welcome to the Orange network!"-type text messages received from Orange: 8
Number of "Inform your loved ones of your safe arrival" and/or Malaysian Embassy phone number and/or roaming partners text messages from Maxis: 18
Number of missed calls to Esther's phone when locked out of the flat at 4:00am and freaking out for fear of missing flight: 32 (using the Maxis sim...sorry, Pa. At least she never picked up, so there wasn't a phone call per se.)

Number of photos taken: 725
Number of photos deleted: 318 (blurry, wrong settings, similar)
Number of videos taken: 4 (all of them of people playing Wii Dance Central)

Number of Monopoly Deal wins: 5
Number of Monopoly Deal games: 21
Number of Rock, Paper, Scissors/Osom wins: 1
Number of Rock, Paper, Scissors/Osom contested: 2
Number of football games seen in pubs: 2 (Man Utd vs. Arsenal; Arsenal vs. Chelsea)
Number of football games followed online: 1 (Man Utd vs. Stoke City)

Quotes of the Trip

DETROIT
"It's nice to visit a new place. After a career of 35 years it's hard to find places we've never been to before. Now, if we want to be 'Lost In LOve' we have to set the mood right"
- Graham Russell, Air Supply

ANN ARBOR
"Well, yes it's not that clean sebab tengah nak exam. But it could be worse"
- Dian Hikmah on the state of her home

DUBLIN
"Testes--you should be aware of the number, shape, size, lumps and tenderness. It was mind blowing to me when a patient didn't know he was supposed to have two."
- Dr. Arthur Jackson, lecturer at RCSI

"If you have your own concert and you play 'Bat Out Of Hell' as your third number, you'll know what it feels like to be fucking 63"
- Meat Loaf

LEEDS
Text from Farah: Wait, nnt dah smpai train station, msg aku. Jgn amek city cab. Mahal. Kau pegi carik subway dlm train station tu. Lepak situ."
*You can see why I was looking for an underground metro thingy*

Farah: Kat sini banyak bus stop, so nak pergi mana-mana senang je by bus. Rumah kawan aku dekat situ je, One Stop tu.
*You can see why I thought it was 'one stop' away by bus. One Stop is in fact a kedai runcit*

Farah: Baiklah. Situ ada bus stop. Situ pun ada. Aku tak sure bas yang mana, so kita tunggu saja in between dua-dua.

LONDON
"Bodoh la, these facelifts. That car looks like it has a bloody misai. Tak nak lah!"
- Hanaa Zainuddin on why some cars just aren't for her

"Umur aku sembilan tahun pun aku kencing dalam seluar."
- Wawa defending her 6 year old cousin wetting his pants

"Kau cantik, Wawa... dari segi dalaman kau memang sangat cantik."
- Freddy yang jujur

"You don't like the gloves? Too expensive? He doesn't like it. Give it to him for £15. Give him £5 change. And here--free gift for your wife"
- How Imi got free earmuffs

MANCHESTER
"Eh...I actually feel a bit better!"
- A nauseated Julyana appreciates the help of Dr. Pepper

"Yap is diarrhoea. You, Kimbu, are constipation."
- Julyana, when things get rough during Monopoly Deal

"But she comes from Seremban so she's accustomed to that lifestyle."
- Yet another gem from Julyana

"Best gila ada heater! Semalam I tido nyanyuk!"
- Julyana Ng Li-Ling waking us up

"What are you cooking for breakfast? Mee Yaggi?"
- July, the gift that keeps on giving

LILLE
"Eijas, aku bawak Maggi, aku bawak perencah nasi garing..."
- Yaser Nur

"You--I respect. You--I respect. But you--I don't respect. I don't respect you."
- Some black guy on the verge of tears when Yap didn't understand his request for a cigarette

"I was with an Australian girl for eight months now. It's feckin' awesome"
- Emmerich

2 penises + 4 balls + 0 vaginas:
Me: Ok, we should ask for directions. "Ask the young, for they know English..."
Yap: Area sana macam bandar je?
Me: Ok, jom! You do realise we could be walking in the wrong direction?
Yap: Of course. Tapi kita harus yakin!
Me: Ya!

Can't You Assholes Name Things Properly?

2010-12-05T20:52:00.004-05:00

There used to be a time when you looked at a computer catalog, thought to yourself "oh, this one's a Pentium III 550 MHz" which would probably be faster than another cheaper one labeled 'Pentium III 500 MHz'.

There was also a time when if the rump of a BMW said 325i, you knew full well it was a 3-series with a 2.5 litre engine. The same goes for their compatriots and rivals Mercedes Benz; an E 230 should be an E-class with a 2.3.

But no. This isn't the case anymore. Intel, AMD, BMW, MB, and many more leaders in their respective industries have resorted to using seriously confusing names, and have done so in equally confusing ways.

I can understand lying to name a car 335i despite it having a 3.0, because the 3.0 is turbocharged and therefore not just a 3.0. Mercedes also does this: their 63 AMGs are actually 6.2, and their 65 AMGs are 6.0 but with twin turbos. This sort of makes sense. Maybe they don't want to name their cars 330i TURBO. Perhaps they like a little subtlety.

But then you have the baffling case of the opposite, like the (facelifted, W 211) E 240. Sure, it was a 'step up' from the E 230, since everybody wants a bigger engine nowadays. But instead of shoving in a 2.4, you put in a 2.6-litre V6. What's wrong with naming the car, gee, I dunno, maybe E 260? The realization that it's not what it seemed was even more painful in a country like Malaysia, where our road tax is based on the engine's capacity.

Now you wanna add in sDrive and xDrive. Fine, maybe xDrive makes sense, since you want people to know this car/SUV has all-wheel drive. But why would you want your car to say sDrive, when all it really means is just 'plain old rear wheel drive'? Why?

And then you have microprocessors. It used to just be all about the clock speed. But now we have to take so much more information into account. How many cores (one? two? three? four? six? eight?). What's the front side bus like. How much L2 cache. Any L3 cache? DDR2 only or DDR3 capable? And since every single industry is under pressure by the green squad, you have the low energy versions. In short, you have a lot to deal with. But it's not that hard to come up with a naming system that makes sense.

Intel went from the understandable Pentium line, to the bullshit we have today. First it was Core Solo and Core Duo. Then Core 2 Solo and Core 2 Duo. Was this part two? Will the next line be Core 3 Solo/Duo? Apparently not, because it was Core i3, Core i5 and Core i7. And all of that came with a three digit suffix that wouldn't mean a damn thing to the average consumer. You look at a laptop and you think "oh, this has i5!" but what does that mean? Does it have five cores?

The i3 line is the lower end, and are all dual core. The i5s are the mid-level, and, depending on the suffix, either dual- or quad-core. The i7s are the bad ass gamers wet dream ones. Most are quad core but the special ones, have six. The Core i7-975 Extreme Edition has four cores and the Core i7-980X has six cores. So, bigger number = more cores? No. The Core i7-970 has six cores. So, which one to buy? Consult your geekiest friend.

AMD was worse. Back when Intel's naming made sense (Pentium IV 800 MHz), AMD named their chips based on a number which was ... it's overclocking ability? ... or was it how it compared to Intel's chips? ... I really don't know. Whatever the number meant/was, it sure as hell was not the clock speed (which they conveniently made rather difficult for the average consumer to find out). And people bought PCs based on clock speed. In my opinion, it was a sly tactic by AMD to use bigger numbers than Intel, despite the processor being slower.

Anyway, currently their naming system is pretty much like Intel's, with the suffix and all. But at the very least they also add yet another suffix telling you how many cores there are. So the Phenom II X6 1090T has six cores. Granted, not everyone will know the 'X6' tells you that. But in one sense, it's easier to shop AMD than it is Intel.

Please, just name it whatever the hell you want. Add in however many suffixes you deem necessary. But make sure the numbers make sense.

Quotes of the Semester

2010-12-05T01:12:00.004-05:00

"I added 10 points to your exam scores just to make you guys a little bit happier. In the end I will obviously curve your grades based on how you do in the course. But I guess it's a psychological thing knowing you did 'better'. 10 points for everyone--it won't mess up the distribution anyway."
-- Yaroslav Kryukov, Ph.D

A: You COPIED and PASTED everything she wrote?
B: Yes. Yes, I did. I mean, I'll PARAPHRASE.
A: But you just said everything she wrote was RETARDED.
B: Well I never did say I wasn't retarded, did I?

"Go home and watch 'Dazed and Confused' and the original 'Tron'. I am NOT above putting a bonus question referencing 80s movies in my exams."
-- Rebecca Nugent, Ph.D

"How many of you are going part time next semester? Let me rephrase that: How many of you are going part time next semester just to save 25 grand? You're all losers."
-- Carol Goldburg, Ph.D

"Sometimes... it's safer to be racist."
-- You Know Who You Are

"It's...it's blowing my-- It's blowing my mind. My mind is literally blown. You don't have surnames? Get outta here! My mind is literally blown right now. It, it, it's just, whoa..."
-- Rebecca Hirsch

"Hey! That looks like something you already have!"
-- Safiyyah Mohsin (cis)

"This line of shoes from Rockport are microwave-friendly. That's mean you can put them in a microwave and you don't have to cuci pakai tangan."
-- Yours Truly

"He was talking about his data set, 'coz that's what statisticians do on dates--we talk about our data. He said about 1/3 of it was bad data or stuff that had missingness, and he got rid of them--almost 100 observations from his sample of around 300. Whoa, there. I could stand a really dry first date, but deleting bad observations? Ohhhh, no no no, this definitely won't work out."
-- Rebecca Nugent, Ph.D on a first date with a fellow grad student

"Since we didn't cover that much material since the last exam, this one will be, how you say, more creative. What's a creative exam question? NOW YOU GONNA FIND OUT."
-- Irina Gheorghiciuc, Ph.D

"Go to Belgaufre, on Rue Neuve. Theirs are the best. Oh my god, I love waffles. I'm so hungry, we should stop talking waffles right now. I want a waffle so bad!"
-- Annelies Deuss, Ph.D in no way hiding her Belgianness

Statistically Speaking

2010-09-29T09:28:00.002-04:00

A statistics instructor once promised the whole class that he'd come up with a really cool statistics joke, given enough time throughout the semester. Midway through the sem, he announced that he had one, but that it'd have to wait after class. Everyone was anxious, but we got through the day's material and eagerly listened tow hat he had to say.

"Statisticians--we may be dull, but we have our moments."

If you don't get it, don't sweat it. 'Moments' has another statistic-related meaning to it. But still, all that waiting, and just that? One year on in my involvement in statistics and I have these two gems to cherish:

Before class

Guy 1: Aw, man I love her, she's awesome. And she's a great professor--that's why we have to go to class early.
Guy 2: No, you just want to go early because you enjoy the boner you get.
Guy 1: Hey, I pay a lot to go to school here. Might as well make the best out of it. But yeah, I wanna savor the--how long is class again?--80 minute erection hahaha. Remember last week, she wore those pants?
Guy 2: Holy shit. You don't wear pants that tight in a class of twenty-something-year-olds and not expect people to notice.
Guy 1: I don't care, man. I'm loving it. Oh, those arms...when she flexes them! I'd let her do anything to me with those arms! She's just ridiculously hot for her age.
Guy 2: You know, I should record everything you're saying now and just play it when we take the final. I'd pay to see her reaction.
Guy 1: She'd probably like it. She's that cool.
Guy 2: I'd say 50-50 on her either failing you or giving you an A on the spot.
Guy 1: She'll give me an A, for sure!
Guy 2: That sure, huh? Wanna do a t-test?
Guy 1: Hell, yes!
Guy 2: Wait, R or gretl?
Both: R!
Guy 1: Jesus, the stakes are getting high, isn't it?
Guy 2: 5% alpha?
Guy 1: Double or nothing 1% alpha!
Guy 2: We should probably just record this conversation and play it during the final instead.

Library (studying for an exam)

Guy 1: Hey, did you know that the expected value of errors equals zero assumption can be violated?
Guy 2: Sure. I just pull down my pants and violate it like this.
*Guy 2 dry humps lecture notes*
Guy 1: You bastard. Now every time I think of this assumption violation...
Guy 2: You know what? The assumption should have EXPECTED it. Badum-pish!

Garuk Teloq

2010-09-04T02:02:00.003-04:00

Today I was given yet another lecture about the pain of childbirth and how I will never appreciate what mothers have done for us all from the very first moment we see daylight. This is all fine and dandy. In fact, I think it's prudent that we are reminded of this, and that we shouldn't take our mommies for granted. I could add another justification or two, but I believe our mothers always take every opportunity to remind us anyway.

The point is this: I believe you when you say it's the most excruciatingly painful thing ever. Yes. Not about to argue that point.

This kind of "you will never understand our sacrifice" lecture is such a lethal weapon of emotional blackmail if used by the right authority (like, I dunno, my mother, maybe?).

Fast forward to today, to this idiot of a girl who insists on one-upping men in the whole gender thing. I won't believe for one second we were created equal. Instead, we were created fair. We have our differences, but what one may lack, the other may excel. I am not saying this in any condescending manner; I say this because it's what I believe.

So out comes all the arguments about how they have to overcome so much more than men do just to do the same thing, about how companies don't take them seriously, about how only actresses willing to bare it all can go far, and a shitload more that I couldn't bother to pay attention to. But when she got to the childbirth thing--she, a snot-nosed 19-year old konon feminist who doesn't even like kids, and will probably not even have any for fear of ruining her vajayjay beyond repair or simply putting it off to "focus on [her] career"--that really irked me.

Back in National Service, when some of us were late or weren't marching properly or whatever, some of the ex-army men would scream and shout and yell at how inadequate and useless we were. One of them--and I'll remember his face and his very words forever--screamed at the top of his lungs, "KAMU SEMUA TAK PERNAH TAHU MACAM MANA RASANYA BERKORBAN UNTUK KEMERDEKAAN!" I get the whole 'your generation was born free, my generation had to fight for freedom' thing, really. But what do you want us to do? What do you expect from us? Dah negara ni takde penjajah. Kau nak aku buat apa pun? But what struck me as odd was that he was 42. And it was 2006. Simple maths will tell you that he was born in 1964, give or take one year. This, in turn, will tell you that he was born at least six years after Merdeka. Was he there at the 1969 riots? He was probably five years old. I doubt he was involved in anything. Or perhaps a more realistic assumption would be that he was involved in the war with the Communists that lasted till the late 80s? They call it a war, but really their opponents lived off whatever they could find deep in the forests of Semenyih.

So, really, who the fuck is he to patronize us about our lack of patriotism or our inadequacy for not being able to fight for independence?

"You'll never understand what it's like. Try as you may, you will never know the pain and the suffering."

...'that I have yet to go through', she should have added. I probably wasn't listening properly. But yes, okay. We don't have vaginas, we don't get preggers. SHe then went on to great lengths about how motherhood is such a privilege and a great honor. Funny though, not once did she mention her own mother.

But anyway, since the debate was now verging on the physique, I was very much tempted to say, "Oh yeah? But it's just the same that you'll never understand what it's like to scratch your balls. Because, try as you may, you can never have them, nosiree."

If you come across people like this--not just deluded feminists or extreme patriots, anyone who fits the bill, really--don't waste your time with them. I really wanted to have a go, but instead refrained because that would make me no better than her.

Although of course, at least I know for sure what it's like to scratch my balls. Same can't be said of her about her argument. And balls.

E-Mail!

2010-08-11T04:38:00.002-04:00

Almost everyone who uses e-mail would have a handful of accounts, be they POP3 or IMAP4. The usual reasons for having so many could be dislike for one, preference of another, one has too much spam, one is too ugly--or in cases of university or work accounts--terpaksa. Anyway, throughout the years web-based e-mail has revolutionized time and again and as of now we have three main players: Yahoo!, Hotmail and of course, everybody's favorite, Gmail.

All three are similar in that you get e-mail and a lot of storage; they're fast, secure and you can trust them; you get proprietary chat; you can manage contacts easily; when you start to type a name, all the available choices pop up in a drop down menu; you have folders which you can manage your e-mails; you can attach many, many files at once (instead of one-by-one) and they can be up to 25 MB; they are incorporating their other services to make e-mailing so much easier and convenient.

Gmail wowed the world back when it first surfaced because of it's organizational abilities (grouping e-mails as conversations, starring and what not). It also had that "by invitation only" exclusivity. Today it's available for free, and as of ten seconds ago, they provide you with 7458 MB of storage. As time passed Google added more and more innovations to integrate with whatever other services they provide. For instance, if someone sent you an e-mail saying "let's meet this Wednesday", Gmail detects "this Wednesday" as the upcoming Wednesday and make life easier for you to make an appointment in your Google Calendar. Google then had GTalk or Google Chat or whatever incorporated, and that sold the millions who used AIM. They were also first to add a search bar for e-mail.

Yahoo! Mail's biggest enemy was its name. People tend to have the perception that anyone with "yahoo" in their e-mail address shouldn't be taken seriously. I was even instructed to not use my Yahoo! address for my resume. That bad. I had always used Hotmail but was getting frustrated by spam so I switched over to Yahoo! Mail because of its clean interface. Then one day Yahoo! brought in Mail Beta which had a preview pane, the ability to make your own folders and everything was drag-and-drop. Being an OCD on organization, I fell in love immediately. Not only was everything a click or a drag away, you didn't have to click on an e-mail, wait for it to load, decide you don't like it, click delete, wait for it to load, realize "oh, no I don't want my next e-mail, I want to see my Inbox" and then click Inbox, wait for it to load, and finally get back to your bloody Inbox. Sure, it only takes a millisecond or so. But once you've tried dragging-and-dropping or simply checking whatever you're done with and then pressing 'Delete', there's no turning back. I now have at least 40 folders which I happily drag-and-drop e-mails in them and avoid clutter in my Inbox. Other plus points for Yahoo! would be their smileys (cute, unlike Google's squarish ones) unlimited storage capacity and also the date recognition thing.

But the biggest surprise for me in Hotmail. Having gone through so many rebranding efforts (MSN Hotmail, Windows Live...) and since I wasn't really using it anyway, Hotmail was much of a mystery to me. Despite having accounts in all three, I have them all forwarded to my Yahoo! address. But today I logged in just for the bloody fun of it and boy was I amazed. If you haven't seen the new Hotmail yet, go ahead and check it out. The only downside I can think of was the storage limit of 5 GB, but even that can be expanded as you use it. When composing an e-mail, beside the usual 'attachments' and 'emoticons' buttons, you also get 'Photos' and 'bing'. 'Photos' opens up a side panel that doubles as a bing image search. Type what you want, select the image, and bam it's there in your e-mail. The 'bing' button is better. With similar side panels, you can get movie times, maps, links, webpages and videos. Just click the 'insert' button and everything slots in nicely: a thumbnail, the title, synopsis, link to the trailer, showtimes, a map, and a link for directions.

Perhaps one thing Yahoo! lacks is the integration of documents. Google has Google Docs and you can easily mail things and view them online. Hotmail has incorporated that too, and what's good about it is that when Microsoft does something for its products, you don't get format issues. I had one painful experience with Google Docs and .pptx files and decided never to use it again.

There's not much between the three. Of course the whole world googles stuff using Google. Google Maps. Google Translate. Google Products. Why would you use Yahoo! anyway? But if you look at the bigger picture, you'll see that Microsoft and Yahoo! both offer services that are pretty nifty. Yahoo! Answers for one. And the next time you try booking a vacation, try bing. The flight ticket price predictor tells you (with a certain probability) whether the price will rise or fall and advise buying now or waiting for later.

Some people take their allegiances seriously. I for one can't care less about my accounts, but keep it anyway just so no other Shazwan gets them (ha!). I am happy with Yahoo! (and I find it a bit silly/churlish to convert. It's just like people who rubbished IE and hailed Firefox as a gift from God, and then two years later ridicule Firefox for its constant updates and wet their pants over Chrome because it's customizable, and then suddenly give the finger to the whole PC industry because they suddenly realize Safari is somehow better and they now want to be a Mac.) But then Google bought YouTube and then Blogger, and now suddenly Microsoft is actually doing shit.

The reason why IE6 was so bad is because at that time they won the Browser War and monopolized. And monopolies mean no innovation. So they stagnated and got their asses kicked by Firefox, then Safari, then Chrome. But with competitors now, surely they'll up their game.

The future looks bright :)

Contemporary Tech Jargon

2010-07-24T05:10:00.007-04:00

Audio/Video

A/V
Audio/video. Duh.

SD
Standard definition, the usual TV signal you get at 480p.

HD
High definition, meaning a higher resolution of picture and up to 7.1 sound channels.

HDTV
High Definition television. Any HD ready TV.

HDMI
High Definition Media Interface, the connecting interface for HD media. Unlike the old S-Video or RCA cables, video and audio signals are carried in one single cable--HD audio and video.

HDCP
High Definition Content Protection, an encryption code applied by certain HD products to protect content from being ripped. For instance, a BluRay Disc movie played on a HDCP-enabled player cannot be ripped because the signal is protected.

Periphery

USB
Universal Serial Bus. As the name suggests, it was designed as the universal interface for everything.
USB 1.1: Up to 12 MB/s
USB 1.3: Added USB OTG capability.
USB 2.0/Hi-Speed USB: Up to 480 MB/s.
USB 3.0/SuperSpeed USB: 5.0 GB/s

USB OTG
USB On-The-Go. USB devices require one to be a host and the other the client. USB OTG allows two client devices to communicate without a host. For instance, a portable storage device could be connected to a digital camera (both of which are client devices) and copy all its images.

RS-232 connector
The USB before USB. Mice and keyboard used them. Even my old telescope.

RCA connector
Radio Corporation of America connector. The red-yellow-white cables you use to connect things to your TV. You use only one audio cable if dealing with mono (usually white), and both if with stereo.
Yellow: Video
White: Left/mono
Red: Right

S-Video
Separate Video, if the S didn't make sense to you (as if it wasn't separated already). Up to 480i or 576i.

HDMI
High Definition Media Interface. The simple, one-cable-to-rule-them-all solution, this cable takes all your video and audio worries and bundles them up into one sleek connector. And of course it's HD.
HDMI 1.2: 3.96 GB/s. 8 channel audio. Up to 1920×1200.
HDMI 1.3: 10.2 GB/s. Dolby TrueHD, DTS-HD support. Up to 2560×1600.
HDMI 1.4: Up to 4096×2160, the resolution of digital theatres. Support for 3D over HDMI.

VGA connector
Video Graphics Array connector. The usual blue monitor cable. Analog signal. Supports resolution up to 2048×1536.

DVI connector
Digital Visual Interface. Digitally (DVI-D), its signal is compatible with HDMI. In its analog form (DVI-A), it is compatible with VGA. Can sometimes carry audio. Supports resolution up to 2560×1600.

FireWire
Back when USB was slow, FireWire stepped in and promised much faster speeds. It made sense at a time when external hard drives were getting bigger in capacity, and video was starting to be digitized.

PCI
Peripheral Component Interconnect. The internal version of the USB, if you will, for PC expansion. In your PC's motherboard you should have at least three of these. You can buy a sound card or a USB port or a modem or ethernet card or whatever and place it in one of the PCI slots.

PCI-X
Twice the length. Four times the speed.

PCIe/PCI-E
PCI Express. Higher speed. Better architecture. Current best.

AGP
Accelerated Graphics Port. Specially designed internal port for graphics card. However, the PCIe has taken over as the better port.

PCMCIA Card
Personal Computer Memory Card International Association card. Those long slots beside old laptops. Back then, laptops won't have many features, but instead would have two of PCMCIA slots. PCMCIA cards were like the USB port of its day--you could buy a PCMCIA modem, wifi adapter, ethernet port, card reader, USB hub, TV capture card...you name it! Superceded by the ExpressCard.

ExpressCard
Its logo is a rabbit--a very accurate analogy. It's smaller (narrower) than the PCMCIA slot, and a lot faster. ExpressCard/34 is 34 mm wide. Its bigger brother ExpressCard/54 is 54 mm wide and its slots can accept the 34.

Optical Drives
Optical drives read CDs, DVDs or BDs by shooting laser beams at a spinning disc and reading its reflection.

CD
Compact Disc. Those discs you bought before MP3s were freely available. Up to 800 MB.

DVD
Digital Versatile Disc. Up to 4.7 GB.

DL-DVD
Dual Layer DVD. Reads/writes using two layers, resulting in a total of 8.5 GB.

HD-DVD
High Density DVD. The DVD Forum's proposed format for HD content. Uses same red laser as DVD, hence easier/cheaper shift from DVD. Has two layers like DL-DVD but each layer carries 15 GB, for a maximum of 30 GB.

BD
BluRay Disc. Uses blue laser, hence the name. Due to the porn industry's adoption of the format and Sony selling the PS3 below cost, BluRay won the format war and is the media for HD content. Can go up to 50 GB.

CD/DVD/BD-ROM
Read-Only Memory. Can only be read, like movie or game DVDs or song CDs.

DVD-RAM
DVD-Random Accessed Memory. Designed to be a rewritable DVD drive that you can drag and drop files into like a thumbdrive.

Flash Drives
Flash drives are--in layman's terms-- sticks of electronics that store data. It has no moving parts, thus drastically saves power.

USB flash drive
Pendrive, thumbdrive, whatever you wanna call it. Can go up to 256 GB. The speed depends on the USB standard.

SmartMedia
One of the earlier cards, it ranged from 2 MB to 128 MB. Phased out due to frequent data loss.

CF
Derived from the PCMCIA card, CompactFlash is the premium card for D-SLRs. It features the highest speeds and the biggest capacities. Type I is 3.3 mm thick, while Type II in 5 mm. Almost all Type II cards are IBM Microdrives--tiny hard disks (that spin, and therefore drain battery).

MMC
MultiMedia Card. Stamp-sized, wasn't very popular because the SD was better. But can still be used today since SD readers are backwards compatible. Up to 32 GB.

RS-MMC
Reduced-Size MultiMedia Card. The small one for phones. Up to 2.0 GB.

DV-MMC
Dual Voltage MultiMedia Card. Power saving due to its ability to work at 1.8 V and 3.3 V. Superseded by MMCplus.

MMCplus
Faster than the standard. Higher capacity.

MMCmobile
The new RS-MMC.

MMCmicro
The smallest one for smaller phones.

MiCard
A two-piece card that fits directly into the USB port.

SecureMMC
An MMC with encryption to compete with SD.

SD
Secure Digital, essentially an MMC with capacities up to 2.0 GB.

SDHC
Secure Digital High Capacity, a newer version which can currently go up to 32 GB.

SDXC
Secure Digital Extended Capacity, an even newer version with a maximum of 2.0 TB. Overkill.

miniSD/SDHC/SDXC
Slightly smaller, for phones.

microSD/SDHC/SDXC
Even smaller, for smaller phones.

xD
Extreme Digital. Developed by Japanese camera manufacturers, these cards ranging from 16 MB to 2.0 GB were phased out in favor of the SD and SDHC.

MagicGate
Sony's proprietary content protection technology. Ensured DRM-protected songs won't be ripped.

Memory Stick
Sony's proprietary card. Ranges from 4 MB to 128 MB.

Memory Stick Select
It has two partitions. Up to 32 GB.

Memory Stick PRO
Slightly faster than the standard, up to 4.0 GB.

Memory Stick Duo
The small one. 4 MB to 128 MB.

Memory Stick PRO Duo
Again, slightly faster, but fr some reason can go up to 32 GB.

Memory Stick Pro Duo Mark 2
Same damn thing, compatible with AVCHD.

Memory Stick PRO-HG Duo
Three times faster than the standard PRO, to keep up with higher data flows of HD video and more megapixels.

Memory Stick Micro (M2)
The teeny one for phones. Even SonyEricsson dropped it in favor of the microSD.

Memory Stick XC
Memory Stick Extended Capacity. Up to 2.0 TB. Three times faster than the PRO.

Magnetic Disks

Floppy Disk
Named after its floppiness, these disks were square with a magnetic circular disk. It started off in the 70s with an 8" form factor with a maximum capacity of 1200 kB. A 1.2 MB 5.25" came out in the a few years later. And the most recent 1.44 MB 3.5" was the removable disk of the 90s until USB flash drives came about.

Iomega Zip Disk
At a time when CD/DVD burning was non-existent, Iomega made their own format of removable disk drives that in its heyday was viewed as a floppy disk on steroids. Started off with 100 MB, then 250 MB and lastly 750 MB.

The Buruk Sangka Game

2010-07-23T05:29:00.002-04:00

Today to while away the time, I decided to play the BS game with a friend. The next conversation we hear, we'll assume it's something inappropriate. "Like what?" he asks. "I dunno. This is an office. What's bad in an office? Curi tulang? Inappropriate office sex? Speaking code for something else?" He is suddenly animated (it is 3:00pm, after all). "Kau start dulu."

Within minutes a lady in the cubicle beside me gets a phone call. It is common knowledge she talks loudly/clearly on the phone.

"Hello. Oh hi! I'm fine, thank you. And how are youuuuu?"

I give him a sharp stare. He nods, smiling wryly. She continues.

"Well. Seeing as to how things can get crazy at times...I'll have to double check for precautions. But I am confident it will go as planned...no problems! If that's not possible then we can just get a hotel room."

He reads my lips: "Inappropriate office sex. Definitely."

She continues.

"Yeah, tu lah. If cannot get a hotel room...then we just do it here at the office la. Sorry, what was that again? You'll need me in private for an hour? Ohh, an hour and a half? Hmm, that can be done I guess."

Now things are really getting interesting.

"Oh, by the way, are you vegetarian? Purely vegetarian? Okay, so I'll know la what not to order nanti."

'Vegetarian'? So that's what they call it these days.

"Okay then, alright. I'll make the arrangements. Bye-bye!"

Giggity.

Laporan (Separa) Lengkap Serta Terperinci Percutian Musim Panas 2010

2010-07-20T05:33:00.007-04:00

May 12

2:30pm EDT - Danial and Nana sampai Pittsburgh.
2:32pm - Nana calls me. I lie about my whereabouts and ETA.
2:36pm - Arrive at the Pittsburgh Amtrak Station.
2:40pm - Peluk cium and get our passes and tickets.
3:30pm - Walk to Strip District in search of Old Town White Coffee.
4:05pm - Give up after not finding any.
4:15pm - 54C waltzes by without stopping.
4:35pm - Ride the 54C to Oakland.
4:50pm - Arrive at CatMan.
5:00pm - I leave with a bowl of potato salad for Yang's party.
7:00pm - Penguins-Canadiens Game 7 starts.
8:40pm - Penguins lose 5-1.
9:00pm - Get back home.
9:30pm - Laundry.
11:45pm - Pack.

May 13

9:00am - Nana lepak dengan kawan.
10:30am - Bincang pasal social life Nana dengan Danial and Nik.
10:35am - Buat/masak burger.
3:55pm - Bank in check.
4:05pm - Check was signed in the wrong spot.
4:15pm - Check was signed properly.
4:25pm - Banked in check.
4:35pm - Gates Building to print Rancangan Rahsia Musim Panas 2010.
5:10pm - Test drive David's Mitsubishi Lancer with Danial and Hassan.
6:00pm - Mandi.
9:01pm - Grey's Anatomy.
10:04pm - Leave for downtown by 61C.
10:08pm - A box of biscuits on the back row of seats.
10:30pm - Arrive at Pittsburgh Amtrak Station.
11:30pm - Board the Capitol Limited to Chicago.
11:59pm - Sang "Don't Stop Believin'". Girl behind yells ""I heard that!" and sings along.

May 14

6:52am - Scared by the sight of a train's bangkai by the side of the track, in some small town in Ohio.
8:25am CDT - We change our watches to CDT after the announcement.
8:33am - "If you guys aren't here, I won't have a job and I can't feed my babies," says stewardess R.Santos. She goes on to tell us about her 'girlfriend'.
8:48am - Arrive at Chicago's Union Station.
9:07am - Buy CTA 1 Day Passes at CVS.
9:11am - "I really like your hair! It's one of a kind, man!" proclaims a black guy to Danial as we cross the street back to Union Station. I take the opportunity to say, "I cut it!"
9:13am - Board CTA bus X28 to Hyde Park.
9:39am - Arrive at Hyde Park. Walk to Nj's place.
9:44am - Arrive at Nj's place. Ring door bell.
9:46am - Call her phone.
9:47am - Window opens, Nj's head pops out and says "Sorry! Aku baru mandi!" despite knowing when we were arriving.
9:58am - Nj tells us her new TV doesn't get basic cable and that it would be nice if we could fix it since "korang kan lelaki" (sexist). Her TV probably doesn't get any signal because there is no cable attached to it. But she doesn't know that. And that's despite us telling her so.
10:03am - Nj starts to cook chocolate chip pancakes.
10:06am - Nj tells Nana about the time she made bubur Maggi hangus.
10:09am - Nj's first pancake turns out hangus.
10:10am - Danial photographs the juxtaposition of her embarrassed face and the hangusness of the pancake.
10:30am - Makan! And I pass on to Nj the Manneken Pis figure from Brussels, the drawing and a packet of Choki-Choki.
11:05am - CTA Bus 6 to Downtown.
11:44am - Begin walking tour.
11:50am - Museum of Art. Nana taknak. 'Tak cultured'.
12:40pm - Continue walking tour.
1:00pm - Green tea whatchamacallit and cheese bread at Jamba Juice.
1:20pm - Continue walking tour.
3:00pm - The Bean...
4:20pm - Arrive at Giordano's Pizza.
5:30pm - Walk to Navy Pier.
5:40pm - Find penny press and shop for souvenirs.
6:10pm - Pictures.
6:46pm - Tumi. Beli hadiah!
7:26pm - Using only my memory, I guide us to the bus stop opposite the 7-Eleven to board Bus 6.
8:35pm - Arrive at Nj's building. Ring door bell.
8:37pm - Call Nj but went straight to vociemail.
8:39pm - Nj calls and says she'll be back in 20 minutes.
8:50pm - We walk to the front and observe a cat.
9:15pm - Nj arrives apologizing profusely (memang patut pun!) and we go inside.
9:45pm - Watch 'Wicker Park'.

May 15

12:44pm - We see UChicago's unfinished impressive underground library.
12:46pm - After 8 months, Nj finally admits that CMU is smaller than UChicago.
12:48pm - We visit the 'Man Reaches Atomic Age' monument.
1:02pm - Catch sight of Danial's twin (hair).
1:10pm - Grabbed some free pop (soda/soda pop) at UChicago's annual Summer Fest.
1:20pm - Sign indemnity. Get wrist band.
1:45pm - Bungee run thing. I win. Nana tanak percaya. Degil gila.
2:10pm - Giant slide.
2:25pm - Shazwan "Bateri Habis" Azizan
2:28pm - Tukar bateri spare.
2:32pm - Giant slide again; this time with pictures.
2:38pm - Nj does the Eurobungee thing.
2:50pm - Apple and caramel dip.
3:15pm - Hypnotist.
3:26pm - Fried Oreos and fried Twinkies. There was a rather funny "Meet Jesus faster!" sign. I didn't even mind 'Fryed Oreos'.
3:52pm - Honest Tea samples.
4:04pm - Line up at grill. Turned away but sempat merasa tandoori.
4:15pm - Line up for caricatures.
4:38pm - Three of us go for a free green screen group photo. I wear a crown.
4:46pm - Danial takes Nj's place in the line and she comes for photo with us.
4:52pm - Nana rides mechanical bull.
5:12pm - Back at the line, girl behind us skips the line, and makes a bitchy face when we assume the spot behind her.
5:20pm - Give up on caricatures. Check out the barbecue.
5:28pm - Walk to Treasure Island, the most European supermarket in America. We see the bitchy faced girl again. Again she makes a bitchy face at us.
5:43pm - Kalah osom with Nj, so we buy yellow bell peppers as per her request instead of green.
6:17pm - Balik rumah Nj.
6:33pm - Masak spaghetti, stuffed french toast and garlic bread.
6:41pm - Try out the onion cubing skill learned a few days ago on Youtube. Nj kagum.
7:02pm - Tumis bawang and yellow bell peppers. Nj cakap bau sedap.
7:36pm - Rebus spaghetti. Nj sebut speggetti instead of spuh-getti. Hahahah.
7:52pm - Makan. Nj cakap sedap gila.
8:03pm - Dangerous photo session with cameras dangling on her spiral staircase.
10:20pm - Nana and Nj watch the final episodes of Adamaya. I observe from afar. Not much has changed since I last saw a drama Melayu.
11:00pm - Gave Danial a recap on 'Wicker Park' from last night.
11:30pm - Watch random episodes of Mentor auditions.

May 16

1:26am - Tido.
4:30am - Awoke (as usual) to "Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go".
4:52am - Nj says good-bye. She reaches out but hesitates to hug anyone sebab "I'm smelly. No, actually, I'm not smelly but yeah..."
5:18am - Bus 6 to Downtown. A box of Oreos in the back row. Coincidence? We agree that if we find a third, it's a sign...or fate or whatever...and we must take it.
5:42am - Bus 151 to Union Station.
6:26am - Board the train to St. Louis.
6:53am - A family in front of us countdown and celebrate the dad's 50th birthday.
12:32pm - "Sungai ke?" asks Nana at the sight of the Mississippi.
12:45pm - Arrive at St. Louis Amtrak Station on time.
1:02pm - Nana gets all her $17.75 change in coins while buying a Metrolink ticket.
1:29pm - Danial doesn't know where we are while we look for Paul's house.
Danial "Sesat" Ariff.
1:32pm - Nj texts to say we left our bread and my Spedstick.
1:34pm - Paul meets us at an intersection. When his housemate calls, he says he's "wrangling the couchsurfers."
1:36pm - "Eh, serai!" proclaims Nana as she points at some pandan leaves.
1:37pm - I reply Nj's text: "That was intentional. Ketiak kau bau."
1:48pm - Tour of the house.
1:52pm - Paul tells us they had six chickens, but two died. They suspected it was due to sembelit because they weren't eating enough rocks. I am worried by this because I have not taken a dump since the 12th.
2:42pm - Leave for Downtown.
3:38pm - Broadway Oyster House; po'boys and shrimp creole.
4:26pm - Naik arch.
4:37pm - Pak Cik Yakin volunteers to take our picture. It turns out horribly blurry but you gotta give him credit for his confidence.
5:02pm - Jalan-jalan downtown.
5:08pm - Hujan. I use my umbrella and pull out my backpack's poncho.
5:10pm - I make Danial take a picture of my bag with its poncho; "Aku nak kau upload gambar tu, pastu bila kau balik Penn State bagitau member kau semua. Aku nak, next time aku datang Penn State, kalau hujan, semua datang kat aku pastu cakap "Eh, Kimbu, beg kau ada poncho kan?""
6:29pm - Balik. Basah kuyup. Nobody home.
7:02pm - Nick opens the door. He was asleep.
8:13pm - Mandi.
9:02pm - Updated Danial's facebook status in rempit speak.
9:36pm - Reminded of my lack of deodorant, I text Nj to mail my Speedstick with whatever she plans to send me.
9:37pm - Nj replies, suddenly defensive her armpits and her own Speedstick ("bau harum, ok!").
9:50pm - Easy Mac for dinner. And a can of tuna.
10:20pm - Nana challenges for my blanket. Osom. Kalah :(

May 17

9:00am - Bangun.
9:15am - Breakfast and tapau-ing a lunch of tuna sandwiches.
10:00am - We begin the long and arduous journey by walking to the Forest Park Metrolink Station.
10:20am - Board Metrolink train to East St. Louis.
10:40am - Board Moreland County Transit Regional Bus 18 to Collinsville.
10:45am - Danial sees a sign for wifi onboard. I check my facebook page just because.
10:50am - Walk a mile or so to Cahokia Mounds.
11:23am - Arrive at Cahokia Mounds.
11:50pm - Walk along the Yellow Trail.
12:10pm - Despite being hungry as hell, fate (osom) decides that we eat atop the Monks Mound.
12:43pm - Take pictures individually climbing/atop the mound.
1:20pm - Lunch atop the Monks Mound peak.
1:45pm - I go down first to take pictures of them coming down. Beat Nana (who was atop the mound) at osom. Gedik gila nak lagi satu gambar.
2:07pm - Board MCT 18 bus, which arrived as scheduled.
2:33pm - Nana and I see a man with a badass misai at the arch. It juts out and loops upward then in. It moves as one with his head when he turns it.
2:40pm - Look for penny press, only to find out there are none. Told to go to Union Station.
3:00pm - Wander around St. Louis Union Station and realize what Paul said was true ("It's now a crappy mall"). Found penny press, as well as cheesy Platform 9 3/4 mural.
3:30pm - Board the 70 Grand bus for the 30-odd block journey to Ted Drewe's.
4:00pm - Arrive and melantak frozen custard at Ted Drewe's.
4:39pm - Arrive at Grand Metrolink station. We see a ridiculously long freight train that doesn't end for 12 minutes.
4:51pm - End of the train.
5:30pm - Arrive at Paul's house. Visit their chickens with Nick. Danial harvests the eggs.
6:45pm - Walk to Delmar in the Loop with Nick.
7:00pm - Watch awesome free documentary about infrastructure and public transpotation: 'Beyond the Motor City'. Nick's friend proclaims "Infrastructure is sexy!" when the director gets modest.
8:45pm - Buy a spicy (level 7) pad thai from Noodles & Company.
9:00pm - Arrive at Paul's house.
9:15pm - Dinner while watching Family Guy on Hulu. Nana mandi.
9:45pm - Mandi and packing.
10:40pm - Paul drives us to the St. Louis Amtrak Station.
10:55pm - Arrive at St. Louis Amtrak Station. Farewell with Paul.
11:40pm - Watch 'The Invention of Lying'.

May 18

1:20am - Finish 'The Invention of Lying'.
2:58am - Nana marah bila kena kacau tengok Gossip Girl.
3:04am - Begin watching 'Youth in Revolt'.
3:25am - Talk to an elderly man carrying a 52oz cup of root beer/Dr. Pepper/Mr. Pibb. The conversation starts by assuming Nana was my girlfriend "and who knows? Maybe someday wife?" The conversation will go from marriage to courtrooms; alimony; child support; his worthless children; drug abuse and dealing; heart attacks and strokes; family; "ex-wi...almost ex-wife since she is technically still my wife"; his barber shop; farming and ranches; cows and bulls mating; red angus and black angus beef; the many uses of lidah, ekor and paru; pressure cooking/cookers; carpentry; Greyhound and Amtrak; the dangers of liberal democrats ("they have women marrying women these days!"); why I shouldn't vote Democrat (a long story about how Dems are against our right to bear arms).
3:32am - Pause the movie since the old man is rather interesting.
3:40am - He says he's a barber so I ask his opinion of Danial's hair. He says it's brilliant and that he'd hire me to work at his barbershop in Tulsa, OK.
4:09am - "You seem like a humble person...the way you talk, giving your friend a free haircut. I should turn you in. It's illegal for barbers to give free haircuts in Oklahoma." says the man.
4:18am - He assumes I have some sort of belief. I tell him "I'm a Muslim, just not the blow-up-myself kind" and he says "Jesus welcomes you".
4:22am - My first berak since the day Danial and Nana arrived in Pittsburgh.
4:34am - Old Man assumes (correctly) that I had diarrhea and tells me four poop jokes, mainly about truckers.
5:36am - "Little girl, you're as cute as a bug," says the Old Man to Nana.
5:42am - Board train to KC.
11:20am - Arrive at KC.
11:40am - Dismayed by the manner of our arrival at Kansas City's train station. Dark alleyways into the station, dodgy ramps and stairs.
11:45am - Wowed by the interior of Union Station.
11:50am - Meet Jared and Lil' Red. Drive around KC.
12:15am - Lunch at Joe's Pizza. They put honey (and sometimes peanut butter) on their pizza. They provide bottles of honey, like they do chili flakes.
12:51pm - Rambut Nana panas. It was 80F.
1:23pm - Drive around KC.
1:44pm - Walk to a bridge at the river.
2:42pm - Balik rumah Jared, David and Jason.
3:15pm - Tour, lepak, minum2.
3:52pm - Danial and I run to HyVee for eggs and Speedstick.
4:28pm - Mandi; Danial and I fight over bathroom atas sebab "carpet lawa", "bau sedap", "entah...menarik lah" or "just because". It had nothing to do with the two Playboy magazines on the toilet.
Weight: 156 lbs
4:52pm - Lepak/nap.
5:13pm - David gets back home.
6:26pm - Leave for Arthur Bryant's. David drives a 1975 Oldsmobile 98. It packs the GM Rocket 7.4L V8 engine. He says the best he's ever done was 13 MPGs. His average is 7 MPGs.
6:34pm - As we cross the state line into Missouri, I tell Danial, "Danial, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore". Childhood dream.
6:42pm - Arrive at Athur Bryant's. Each sandwich is rolled into a paper bag. It's the size of a kitchen roll.
6:54pm - The plastic bag containing our four sandwiches gives way and koyak.
7:10pm - Arrive back at the house.
7:15pm - Makan! The bread and fries are soggy by now because of the barbecue sauce. We just grab handfuls of whatever and throw it on our plates. No time for photos.
7:46pm - Seconds.
7:57pm - David declares himself "this close to a coma".
8:01pm - Jason returns.
8:03pm - Nana enters a mini panic/guilt trip as she discovers that the bottle of barbecue sauce she bought contains lard.
Weight: 164 lbs
8:32pm - Leave for Harling's Bar to see a 14-piece jazz band.
8:48pm - Tha band had 16 pieces. We meet AJ from Tanzania, and Matt, who loves the Tuesday night free jazz and $2 beers.
9:44pm - A girl joins in our conversation when she hears "five year plan". She studies and translates Albanian poetry. Or was that Slovenian?
11:02pm - Arrive back home.
11:32pm - Farewell with David, who'll leave early the next morning.

May 19

8:30am - Bangun.
9:15am - Masak.
9:40am - Makan.
10:20am - Mandi.
10:26am - Pussy out when Danial requests osom for body wash.
2:06pm - Jared sends us to the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art.
3:30pm - "Kalau kau nak buat perangai Melayu, baik kau pergi Midwest [Games]".
4:45pm - Danial nak kencing but I disagree. Osom. I lost.
4:48pm - We both took a leak.
5:15pm - Merayap along The Link to Union Station.
5:50pm - Explore Union Station.
6:40pm - Nana makan.
6:50pm - Danial buat fitnah 'gayut'.
8:15pm - Merayap lagi along The Link.
8.42pm - Refer a digital map of a mall. I am surprised such a huge screen was touchscreen. Danial sentuh touchscreen tu dulu.
9:06pm - Sampai UUnion Station.
10:00pm - Jared brings our bags to Kansas City Union Station. Farewell and photos.
10:24pm - Makan! Leftover Arthur Bryant's.
10:38pm - Old lady with a walking stick waits in the rain as her three bags are brought out. She asks for the buggy and is told to "wait till all these people board and the train leaves".
10:43pm - Board the train. Spend so much to restore a train station, you could at least put some decent thought in the train part.
10:52pm - Nana gets a call from her housemate and they argue over the phone bill. "Boleh tak kau jangan jerit kat aku?" The whole car would know her household issues if only they understood Malay.

May 20

2:01am - Makan pil tidur.
10:15am - Bangun. Ambik gambar gunung.
9:28am MDT - Change to MDT.
9:49am - Train arrives at Trinidad, CO. Nana main tangan bayi Quaker.
9:51am - Conductor looks at us quizzically and asks "You guys are gettin' off at Trinidad?" I reply with an emphatic "Yes!"
10:07am - Our room was given to a Korean guy so we're given another room. I booked a month ago and was quoted $66. A week ago I called to reconfirm and was told no such booking existed. I made another booking, the same room, for $51. Today I still didn't get the room but I paid $49.95 for the night.
10:09am - Renee, motel owner, says "wow, that's a fancy signature ya got there".
10:50am - Lost on uTorrent! Danial complain internet lembab. I tell him it's probably his 5-year old laptop.
11:22am - Renee argues with her sister over directions. Dia kalah osom dengan adik dia. So we follow her adik's directions.
11:30am - Lee's BBQ, where we had 1/2 chiliburgers. Its half a burger (half the bun, one patty) in a bowl, sprinkled with cheese, then with chili con carne poured on it, then it's covered with fries. Rating: 9. Kidney beans would have made it a 10.
12:03pm - JR's. Gatorade and bathroom.
12:17pm - A lady warns us against her killer dog (chihuahua) barking at us.
12:25pm - Base of Simpson's Rest.
12:32pm - Jilat cactus.
12:44pm - Reach the top of Simpson's Rest! My iPod was playing 'I Believe In A Thing Called Love'.
1:09pm - Talipon anyone just to say we're on top of a hill. I called Intan.
1:37pm - Reach base.
2:00pm - Safeway's for groceries.
2:20pm - Merayap Main St. Found out the town has no penny press. Their best souvenir is a brick with the town's name engraved in it. It's ten bloody dollars.
3:00pm - Balik. Tengok Lost.
4:00pm - Research the times for the Champions League final as well as the Lost Finale.
5:04pm - Mandi, tido.
8:37pm - Bangun, buat-buat tido. Eavesdrop Danial and Nana.
8:48pm - Sit up in bed. Complete Danial's sentence because I already knew. Complete Nana's sentence because I already knew.
9:09pm - Realize Grey's Anatomy is on today. Jump to TV and channel surf till I get ABC.
9:37pm - Guessed correctly he pulled the wires.
9:44pm - Guessed correctly Meredith Grey was having a miscarriage.
9:52pm - Guessed correctly Richard Weber would ask "are you?"
10:01pm - Realized we missed the first half of the finale.
11:36pm - Downloaded Picasa to view RAW files.

May 21

2:07am - Twinkie. Berus gigi. Tido.
8:00am - Wake up to 'Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go'.
8:29am - Realize it's 8:29am and pack.
8:39am - Return key. Ciao.
9.09am - Lepak at the Amtrak Station.
9.48am - Train 3 Southwest Chief arrives.
9:52am - Menang osom. Takyah tukar tempat duduk dengan Nana.
3:40pm - Arrive at Albuquerque's Alvarado Transport Center.
4:05pm - A guy yells at a policeman "Hey I'll smoke with you again! Maybe tomorrow! At 4:20! Yeah, we'll smoke at 4:20!" The policeman smirks and says "Dumbass. Lucky I didn't arrest him."
4:16pm - An old pak cik correctly guesses Nana is Malaysian. Says he's a photographer who worked in Pittsburgh for a while. He then goes on to tell us about his Malaysian friend Dr. Ong, who was a kung fu master who studied in the mountains in Malaysia. He adds "Malaysians are great people. Well, better than the ones over here."
4:29pm - Nampak lori 3 roda.
4:53pm - Sampai rumah Mike and Meaghan.
6:00pm - We play nerds while we take turn taking showers.
7:00pm - Makan! Mike whips up some home made tacos. I rate this meal as "Paling Puas" because it was sedap, the table was full of condiments, it was all-you-can-eat and most importantly free.
10:54pm - Danial menang lat. He gets dibbs on the single bed. I get the airbed (with a built-in electric pump!) and Nana gets the couch.
10:58pm - Nana challenges me to stop saying "that's mean". I win the osom. Fate has decided I shouldn't stop.
11:20pm - Tido.

May 22

8:30am - Bangun.
9:00am - Mandi.
10:00am - Cecilia's Cafe for breakfast burritos and enchiladas. "For an unpredictable chile fix" says a sign inside. The red chile is thick and burns at the first taste.
11:00am - Old Town.
11:34am - Danial bukak pintu salah at the Albuquerque Museum.
12:35pm - Nana walks to the University of New Mexico's campus.
12:40pm - Saggio's, a sports bar, for the 2010 UEFA Champions League final. The place has countless TVs.
1:20pm - 1-0 to Inter as Milito scores.
1:55pm - Nana texts "Nak mati kebosanan dah ni".
2:18pm - Nana datang.
2:21pm - 2-0 Inter. Same guy.
2:44pm - Full time. Inter win.
3:08pm - Beli poskad with chili con carne recipe in hopes Mama will master the dish by the time I get back.
3:21pm - Tolong orang yang tak reti guna camera.
3:23pm - Post Office tutup.
3:48pm - Albuquerque Museum, backwards.
4:42pm - Candy Lady, where they sell candy shaped like kote, tetek and vagina. And chili-chocolate fudge. Nana buys the fudge. Pedas. I also buy stamps.
4:46pm - 'My Boy Lollipop' plays on the radio and gets stuck in my head for the next few days.
5:04pm - Mailed postcard. Decide to cook dinner for our hosts.
5:42pm - Smith's, where we shop for nasi lemak ingredients. Kecewa takde daun pandad.
6:17pm - Balik. Main trampoline.
6:28pm - Masak!
7:35pm - Makan! Mike tells us they'll be back late.
8:00pm - Mandi.

May 23

12:03am - E-mailed Mama and Papa after a pang of 'ah, rindunya rumah'.
12:57am - Tido.
5:47am - Bangun. Sejuk. Ambik selimut lagi satu.
7:01am - Mama talipon, kacau tido.
10:23am - Bangun, makan.
11:16am - Mike makan nasi lemak.
11:46am - We hear Mike saying to Meaghan "Oh, that's a good breakfast!"
11:52am - Nana tak paham/buat-buat tak paham konek jokes. (Kau nak gi mana?/Konek gi mana?)
12:18pm - Flea market.
12:36pm - Danial buys horchata. It's not December so it doesn't count.
12:48pm - A guy offers 'better' horchata.
1:01pm - Mike makes a duplicate key. It took less than 2 minutes. Kagum.
1:02pm - Someone speaks Spanish to Nana. He then asks her "Are you (Red) Indian? Japanese?"
1:20pm - Balik.
2:10pm - Mike and Meaghan drive us to Frontier's Cafe.
2:20pm - Sampai. Makan.
2:42pm - Sembang dengan mak cik tua Order #75 while I wait for coffee.
3:20pm - Alvarado Transport Center. The PA system's jingle sounds so cool.
3:35pm - Berak. Panas gila. Banyak sangat makan pedas kot. Small price to pay for the awesome food I've had.
3:40pm - 3 Southwest Chief arrives.
3:42pm - Toilet paper jauh sangat, so I bend forward to reach for it, triggering the auto-flush toilet. Tak pasal-pasal flush 3 kali.
3:43pm - Danial datang kacau aku berak. Dia suruh board awal nak dapat seat bagus. Padahal masalah tiket dia pun tak settle lagi.
3:48pm - Keluar toilet. Danial and Nana try to settle their ticketing issues.
3:54pm - I realize the jingle isn't from the PA system. It's from an arcade machine behind me.
4:33pm - Danial and Nana successfully changed their tickets.
4:35pm - Board the train.
4:45pm - Train departs.
5:34pm - I feel nauseous. No. Nauseated. 'Nauseous' is wrong, and is a common mistake. At least Sheldon in The Big Bang Theory says so. You're welcome.
7:13pm MST - Change time to MST.
7:23pm - Danial says it's 8:23pm. Ha! Talipon dia kuno. Tak auto update time.
7:46pm - Due to DST and differing timezones, I mistakenly think we should arrive now. Apparently we arrive in an hour's time.
7:51pm - Figured it out. The pamphlet said "after Nov 3 all times shown are an hour later". Not only is it after Nov 3 (when the clock goes back an hour) but it's also past May 3 (when the clock goes forward an hour).
7:52pm - Merajuk dengan Arizona, taknak beli teh dia lagi dah.
7:53pm - Danial says "Oh, kau dah pandai merajuk eh? Macam Nana?" I learn from her; I learn from the best.
8:49pm - I see a restaurant. It's a simple square building with a neon red sign that says 'Restaurant'. Just like 'Kedai Kopi' in Shah Alam!
8:53pm - Sampai Flagstaff, AZ.
8:55pm - "Sejuk gils!" It's freezing outside the train but we can't go anywhere because the train is stopped for a cigarette break and our hostel is on the other side of the station.
9:11pm - Check in. The receptionist's brother graduated from CMU. She lived in Pittsburgh. In Shadyside. On Ellsworth Ave.
9:20pm - We meet Nick, the Kiwi, and talk about our plans. He'll be sticking with us for a bit.
9:30pm - We meet Munir, the altruistic Brazilian. But then again he's Brazilian so he's probably Mounir. He then says if Munir/Mounir is too hard to pronounce, just call him Richard. Danial wants the alias Charleston. I choose Richmond.
10:05pm - Walk 2 miles to Safeways. A guy outside the hostel tells us it's "2.5 miles away" and gives us directions. He also says the bar across the hostel is very dodgy and that he'd "probably get herpes the moment [he] steps inside".
10:30pm - We get to use the Safeways card again. Yahoo!
11:10pm - Balik hostel. Masak.
11:45pm - Makan.

May 24

12:20am - Tido.
7:23am - Bangun. Mandi.
7:48am - As I walk out the bathroom without my specs, I offer the shampoo to Nana.
7:49am - Turns out the girl wasn't Nana after all.
7:55am - Makan dengan Austrians who tell me the tour isn't worth it because you don't get to see Lake Powell. Lancau.
8:42am - The receptionist says about me "He's smart!" when I sign at the right spot. The others join in the sarcasm "He's a genius of the group".
8:56am - I plan to buy Gatorade and Danial says he wants Gatorade too. Osom. I lose. He can buy Gatorade.
8:58am - Danial challenges my right to buy Gatorade. Osom. I lose. I can't buy Gatorade.
9:01am - Tour van leaves for Grand Canyon.
9:09am - We both buy Arizona Iced Tea when we stop for snacks.
9:15am - Hantar SMS sayu to Dian.
9:33am - Danial ugut nak tengok the Lost finale before me and tell me what happens.
9:34am - I scheme my revenge if he does that.
10:50am - Take pictures at the Grand Canyon, Arizona signboard while we drink Arizona Iced Tea.
11:20am - Arrive at the Grand Canyon's South Rim.
11:30am - Nana kencing lama sangat, so I don't tell her about the penny press.
11:42am - We stalk SLR-toting pak cik tuas to take our picture. Danial yang bahlul gets a mak cik tua who's frst question is "where do I press?"
11:54am - We take a picture of Danial pouring Arizona Iced Tea into my mouth with the Arizona Room as the background.
11:56am - Our guide Joey asks us "What drinking game were you guys playing?"
1:02pm - The 'Pesanan Buat Anak-Anak' picture is taken.
1:05pm - Danial asks, and subsequently answers, a no-shit question. "Kenapa gambar kamera kau lagi gempak daripada gambar kamera aku? Oh...sebab kamera kau memang lagi gempak pun. I see."
1:09pm - Sembang dengan a guy from Melbourne about Aussie rules football, the A-League, Melbourne and Malaysia.
1:44pm - Want the Aussie guy to take our picture but we don't know his name. Melanguk kat tepi dia sampai bini dia sebut nama dia.
1:49pm - His name is Steve and he takes our picture.
1:54pm - 'Cliffhanger' pictures are taken.
2:02pm - Danial and I choose not to go up the peak sebab "dah pasang niat to be the sacrificial lambs". The Aussies laugh saying they know by our tone.
2:10pm - Joey says to me "I like your route!" as I go about the rocks without help. Danial doesn't believe me. Prick.
2:20pm - Steve gives us all peach flavored Twizzlers.
3:10pm - Sesi muhassabah diri atop some rocks. Long way down. Great view. You can even hear the roar of the rapids below. The proposed 5 minute sessin lasts 20 minutes as nobody wants to be the asshole who breaks the silence.
3:49pm - I mention that I'm getting tired of sitting at the edge of rocks and staring blankly into space, having such deep thoughts. Nana mentions "Ala, nak buat cemana, semua pun single kan?"
3:55pm - Danial and I mengumpat about Nana's apparent racism towards all Asian races solely because she won't/is too shy to talk to the Vietnamese girl in our group.
4:42pm - Cameron Trading Post, to buy souvenirs. We buy postcards. Nana looks for a penny press machine in vain.
5:00pm - USPS bukak. Tapi tutup.
5:18pm - Nana says "give up tu takde dalam kamus hidup aku".
6:20pm - Sampai Flagstaff.
6:50pm - Mandi.
7:20pm - Masak!
7:25pm - Some guy throws away his sheets in the kitchen trash can.
7:40pm - I can't buy detergent because the receptionist is talking to a cop. I think there's a thief. Takut.
7:45pm - The cop tells a guy who just finished packing "Lotsa motels here. You can do all the drinking you want in there."
7:50pm - Do laundry.
8:00pm - Makan.
8:20pm - Gossip! Another guy we know tells us his roommate is the one who was kicked out. The guy came home the night before at 1:00am smelling like shit. He then started drinking and popping some pills. By 2:00am he was watching porn with the volume up. By 3:00am he was masturbating. Until 5:00am.
8:45pm - Hang out at the lounge to watch a movie with the other kids in our tour. Use internet. Chat dengan Papa, who's about to leave for KLIA and pick Hana up.
10:40pm - Danial and I meet our new roommate, Antoine. He tells us "In Fghance, it is izi for me to saving money because I live at home so I don't pay ghent. Food is also good and is also fghee." Rambut, misai and goatee dia cool gila. Muka dia macam topeng V for Vendetta.
11:15pm - Hang out with Nick and a Canadian lady, Courtney. They invite us to join them going to Sedona tomorrow. We decide to think about it.
11:50pm - Tido.

May 25

Today I take a roadtrip to Sedona, AZ. I ride with Courtney and Nick, but Danial and Nana choose not to follow. Pussies. Anyway, the trip is about an hour at most. Sedona is the opposite of the Grand Canyon: where Grand Canyon is scenic holes in the ground, Sedona has red rock mesas sticking out from it. And Sedona has creeks. Courtney, "traveling while on business" as she puts it offers us a one way ticket there. We'd have to hitch a ride back.

Our first stop is the Red Rock Information Center, where Courtney makes us lie on the ground and enjoy the sun. I admit this was pretty fun, since Flagstaff is over 6000ft high, it gets pretty cold. Courtney then makes us do push ups, as the other (mostly old) tourists look in bewilderment. Inside the center, she camwhores with everything and anything. She talks me into taking a picture with a mannequin while groping its breast. I thought "why the hell not?" and got on with it.

Approaching the town, we see a chapel built in the cracks of some of the rocks. It looks touristy (it is, it has a gift shop, in fact) so we go up and have a look-see. An old Japanese lady volunteers to take our picture; she is baffled by my 50D's "not showing the picture on the screen". And the Japs made Canon (and Nikon).

As we drive along the town, we argue over what/where to eat. We find an info center on 'vortexes'--energy spots found across the area. The center is run and sought after by people who frequent psychics and believe the new age medicine bullshit. We see a UFO museum and immediately stop there (there's a barbecue restaurant next door). The museum is closed but has some pretty interesting displays on the outside. Courtney sees a sushi place nearby and we go there for lunch.

After lunch she wants a fix of Starbucks, and to say thanks for driving us there, I pay for her soy milk what have you green tea chai something something latte. Courtney starts hugging us--her way of saying "you're welcome" or for the bloody fun of it--I don't know. The Starbucks barristas start hugging each other too. Nick, clearly uncomfortable by this, chooses to sit down. Courtney corners me, but I am smart enough to evade by pointing at something outside and saying "Holy shit! What is that?" and run away to sit with Nick while she is distracted.

We then play with the longboard she brought. I am terrible at balancing anything except a bicycle so I immediately fall and twist something in my wrist. I also hurt my right ass. Courtney and Nick fare much better and they make a little circuit around a resort's lobby. I sit at one side playing with cacti.

Our next stop is the Sedona Airport, which is on top of one of those huge rocks. We drive up there and we get a panoramic view of the town. The airport specializes in helicopter tours, biplane tours, and Cessna lessons. A private Cessna comes in for landing and we wave at it. Obviously an amateur/beginner, the pilot doesn't even acknowledge us with a tipped wing or whatever. We trek down to Airport Mesa, a smaller mesa beside the airport where there is said to be one of those vortexes. Nobody feels anything. And old man beside me says "I don't feel nothin'". We go back to the car.

Our last stop is a creek. Any creek so long as we get to swim. We drive through some interesting terrain and eventually get to a quaint little spot. Nick and I go first as Courtney changes in the car. According to her, as she is putting on her bikini bottom, the park ranger knocks her window and asks her to leave because the car doesn't have a park permit (the whole town is in a state park; no permit, no parking). She says it is hard for her to think of a response with the bikini bottom "not quite there yet" but manages to tell the ranger she has to get the two of us first. When we both get back to the car, the ranger is issuing a ticket to some locals. Courtney insists we have a swim anyway, so she writes a note on her windshield. She tells him she wants to ask him a question but doesn't want to be disrespectful by interrupting him fining the other kids. "Please find me by the river rope". We run to the river rope and each have a go. The water is ridiculously cold as it is actually the snow melting from the mountains. The kids that got a ticket joined us and told us it was for $55. They said they'd challenge it in court for "religious or spiritual reasons". Right. Two of 'em were in bikinis, the guy had his surfing shorts on, a six pack in their cooler. Syabas.

Anyway, we had our fun and Courtney then sends us to the northern edge of town where we stand cutely beside the sign that says "Flagstaff 28 miles" and smile and stick our thumbs out. Courtney offers to stand with us while in her bikini but as it turns out she is all talk. But she's cool, don't get me wrong. The problem we faced was that the idiots who drove by thought we were idiots pointing at Flagstaff and giving it the thumbs up. So they gave us the thumbs up in return. We then rotated our hands to give them a better idea. Now they think we're giving Flagstaff the thumbs down. At least three cars pass by and shake their heads in dismay. One car gets the idea and drives up to us; it lowers its window........and takes a picture and leaves. A van passes by and the driver looks at us (not at the road). Five minutes later the van comes back in the opposite direction and the driver tells us to wait at the bus stop and he'll make a U-turn. We meet him there and Courtney says good-bye. The driver, Will, is a Navajo Indian who was here for a hike. In the ride back to Flagstaff, he tells us about the Navajo reservation, his tribal customs, his family in Mexico. All three stories had its weed-related tale. He then asks us about weed in Malaysia and New Zealand and The UK. And then he tells us about his friends in the cartel and the his great grandpa chief who smokes the stuff all day. Apparently the reservation grows weed and shrooms. He could probably be bullshitting us, but it was fun listening. What scared the shit out of me was his van: all available airbags had exploded. His steering wheel, the glovebox, both B-pillars had a slit in them. Luckily, we took the state road instead of the Interstate. The speed limit was 40mph.

Got back safely, got ready and packed.

Dinner: a man dressed up like a 19th century British explorer (even a British accent!) cooking pasta, telling us how terrible the prices are that he had to buy in bulk. He offered his pasta. Sedap gila babs, so he is forgiven.

Wanker: a strange man throws away his sheets. We ignore it as it's the hostel's problem. A police officer escorts the man out, telling him there are "other places that you can do your things". The man's room mate tells us he stayed up all night watching porn, popping pills and masturbating--with others in the room the whole time.

Leave for Los Angeles by train at 10:00pm.

May 26

9:42am - Danial gets the last chip.
10:12am - Danial buruk sangka mamat pamphlet.
3:50pm - Dead man at Pershing Square?
3:59pm - We get to Joseph Gordon-Levitt's character's favorite spot in the film (500) Days of Summer.
4:02pm - Bomba datang. Why?
6:33pm - Beli jam baru at Chinatown. It looks exactly the same as what I was already wearing.
7:39pm - Nice-smelling guy gives us directions.
7:46pm - Shopping for groceries at Trader Joe's. Takde shrimp!
8:16pm - Masak! Takde can opener. They have every single thing we don't fucking need. Benda-alah siang ikan pun ada. Can opener, yang backpacker paling banyak guna, takde?
8:33pm - Apparently that weird thing on the wall that looks like a soap dispenser is an automatic can opener. Americans...
8:42pm - Nana declares "Mantap lah kau masak, Shazwan!". The cost was only $6 per bowl and it had asparagus, shrimp, lump crab meat and god knows what else.
9:38pm - Nick datang.
10:15pm - Stand up comedy. He asked me where I'm from. He says Malaysia is "behind" America, so I live on the ass of the world. A Dutch girl mentions the twin towers. The crowd insists Malaysia has the penis of the world, so America must be the ass.
11:25pm - Pillow talk dengan Matt, a Scot traveling with his girlfriend. He tells us of the Irish wankers who masturbated on their (double-decker) beds at night. There were 12 people in the room. And the room had an adjoining bathroom.

May 27

9:30am - Bangun. Who else?
9:53am - Makan.
10:21am - Mandi.
10:40am - Danial comment kat facebook, pastu delete. Dayus.
10:52am - Mengumpat pasal Nana yang tengah tido above us.
11:56am - Menang tutup lid laptop. Danial in denial.
12:21pm - Danial salah (whitley).
12:38pm - Old toothless man with a tongkat jumps out of bus, saying "get me out of here. I'm innocent. I didn't do it!"
12:42pm - "You know what the spirits told me? God told me Hollywood days are over. Bomb in front of the Kodak" - some 40+ year old black guy on the Metro 217 bus.
12:47pm - Same guy tells us he is the snake charmer in Danial's Lonely Planet.
12:58pm - Bus passes by Fairfax High School. The same guy tells us his girlfriend just graduated.
1:04pm - Danial salah lagi.
1:15pm - Strike 3.
2:15pm - "male actress" - Danial.
2:18pm - A suspicious-looking pak cik at the bus stop is actually a Malaysian businessman from Bangi.
2:50pm - Layanan kurang baik at Niketown Beverly Hills. Perhaps it's the adidas jacket.
2:59pm - Fate (osom) decides that the new US soccerball home kit needs a darker shade of grey.
3:36pm - I startled a woman in the Paley Center for the Arts theater. When the film started, she was the only one. When it ended I was there behind her.
4:29pm - "Smells like piss!", "Smells like downtown!", "Hey, it does!"
7:32pm - IM dengan Saf, Phua, Izrin. "I'm in Hollywood :smug:"
8:10pm - Danial pakai baju terbalik.
10:30pm - Nana ugut "nak bogelkan [aku]" if I didn't clear the seafood in the fridge yang dah berair.

May 28

6:30am - Bangun. Tido.
7:18am - Bangun. Buat bodo.
7:30am - Mandi kerbau.
7:38am - Pancake lawa. Nana jealous. Nana gagal. Pisang brown sugar.
8:06am - Response kimak.
8:11am - Danial jatuhkan rak pinggan. Strike 5.
8:25am - Check out.
8:26am - "1, 2, 3, Hasselhoff!"
8:29am - Muscle dah keras sikit.
9:41am - Danial taknak osom for the window seat. Bacul.
9:59am - Takleh naik sebab union punya hal. Kote.
8:08pm - Danial makan tak ajak.

Hari Bersejarah: Kena Cekik

2010-07-15T08:30:00.003-04:00

Today we were driving around Cheras, or Kampung Pandan, or whatever. Since we don't go there often, nothing much was familiar, so we had to look at the signboards.

Mama: Ha, tu ada tu. Bulatan Kampung Pandan, turn right.
Me: But we're going to RSGC, which is on Jalan Tun Razak. Apasal tak ikut sign Tun Razak?
Mama: Same thing. Both also kena turn right.
Me: I know. Memangla in the end pusing kanan jugak. But RSGC is on Tun Razak. Why are you opting to go to Bulatan Kampung Pandan?
Mama: Eh, suka hati aku lah. . It's the same bloody thing. You turn right to go in that direction.
Me: Exactly--it's in that direction. But we're going to RSGC, which is on Tun Razak. So why are you looking for that bulatan which is only half way there?
Mama: Eh, diam lah kau, taik.
Me: I mean...memangla you turn right anyway. My question is--
Mama: Shadap!
Me: Your destination is RSG--

And I was cut off again when she lunged sideways towards me to cekik me.

So finally after 21 years and 307 days, Mama has actually come true on her countless threats and hit me. (Fine, kena cekik isn't technically kena pukul, but let's not get too technical here)

The Effects of Technology

2010-04-24T02:41:00.003-04:00

Guy 1: Hey you know what my girlfriend send me the other day?
Guy 2: No, what she send you?
Guy 1: A card.
Guy 2: Oh.
Guy 1: But she send me through snaiw maiw one! Not e-maiw you know. Snaiw maiw. With stamp and all that.
Guy 2: Wahlauwey! Stiw got people use that ah?
Guy 1: I know. Damn sweet right? And she sign the card also.

F You

2010-03-26T16:37:00.007-04:00

When did you learn the 'four-letter word'? Seeing as to how it's probably the worst of them all, it should be etched in your head how, when, and by whom you learned it from.

Do you even remember when you started to learn? I mean really started to learn. I can only think so far back as when I was three or four and people at home told me "kalau makan benda mentah, nanti sakit perut" and "kalau kena air didih nanti tangan melecur" (learned that the hard way, anyway). What about school? I would assume most people look back on Darjah Satu and think it's a fucking joke. But only because I'd already learned multiplication and grammar in Children's House. The only thing significantly 'new' enough for me to remember in that year (1996) was Bahasa Melayu because I couldn't quite speak it, and that despite no one ever saying 'se-li-par' it is spelt that way.

Outside of school though, I learned certain things a tad bit too early. This is the (dis)advantage of having a brother three years your senior. Whatever he learns at the normal age, you'll learn three years earlier. I remember vividly this one time his friend came over and although there were only the three of us in the room, he whispered ever so softly.

"You know this?" he says as he pulls a fist with one hand and slaps the top of it with the other.

"Isn't that something really bad?" my brother says. His friend inches closer and whispers even softer.

"It's the rudest word in the world. Even worse than 'bastard'!" That really caught our attention. You can see why a precocious six-year-old would remember this conversation so well.

"What is it?" we asked him.

He looks around to make sure no one knows, or he'd be dead meat. The door is closed and locked. But still he looks around. Then he whispers, "It means...," and paused for the longest time, "...it means 'fuck'. F-U-C-K. The four letter word."

I was underwhelmed if I'm honest. 'Fuck'? That's it? Just the one silly syllable? 'Fuck'? That's the rudest, baddest word of them all? I mean, I expected something a little more bad ass-sounding. Think about it. 'Bastard' sounds really mean. But 'fuck'? It was just too short, too simple. I even thought saying to someone 'you stupid idiot' would be so much more hurtful than 'you stupid fuck'. Because 'idiot' sounds so much more...sophisticated (for lack of a better word).

So I asked him what it meant. He whispered in my brother's ear. I could see that raised an eyebrow. Now I really wanted to know what the rudest, baddest word in the world meant. He looked at me, then at my brother. "Are you sure I can tell him? Are you sure you wanna know?"

"Yeah!" I yelled a little too loudly. All three of us looked around to make sure no one had eavesdropped or had entered (the locked room). One of them covered my mouth, the other put a finger to his lip. "SHHHHH! Your parents will kill us if they knew!"

Then he whispered it to me. "'Fuck' is when a guy puts his dick in a woman's vagina. That's also how babies are made!" And then he looked at us both squarely with his big, round eyes. "Don't ever say it in front of your parents or teachers. They'd probably cili your mouth, man! You can get into so much trouble." Again, I was underwhelmed. That's it? Just that? In my mind's eye I pictured a penis trying to squeeze into a camel toe (because back then that's as much about the vagina that I knew of).....and then suddenly a fetus appearing in the woman's belly. It's like the vagina was an on/off switch that can only be triggered by the penis, for some reason. And when it did, the baby started to grow. Brilliant, really, how the brain of the six/seven-year-old me ticked.

On top of the weird image I had in my head, the word 'fuck' still didn't make sense. Why was it rude if that's how babies are made? What made it so bad if it meant something that wasn't?

Well we've all come a pretty long way since then. And now 'fuck' is not just a verb, is it?

It's a bad ass middle name: John 'Motherfuckin' Doe
It's a noun: I don't give a fuck.
It's an adjective: I'm going to fuckin' Amsterdam!
It's an adverb: Fucking get out of here already.
It's a good thing: That's cool as fuck and I want that!
Yet also a bad thing: This is just fucked up.
It's horrible: Oh, fuck.
It's brilliant: Fuckin' A!
It's everything: Do whatever the fuck you want.
It's nothing: I see you've done the sum total of fuck all.

What a wonderful word.

Ridiculous Advice

2010-03-20T16:59:00.004-04:00

Probably February 2006

I had just completed the whole registration merry-go-round at INTEC. It was as inauspicious as shit, seeing as to how there were only three of us. Registering early. For no good reason. Or that much of an advantage. But there we were, the three of us, being given a lecture or briefing by a counselor--admittedly, a rather ancient one--about blending in and how "ini bukan sekolah lagi dah".

Then she made us step forward and sign a blank sheet of paper. Since I was standing in the middle I went second, sandwiched between both girls. She looked at the first's John Hancock, studied it for a bit, then squared her up. "Walaupun awak ada banyak isu, awak bijak gunakan keceriaan untuk sorokkannya." Or something like that. Then added a word or two about how it's a good thing and how it can be a bad thing.

Then she looked to her other side--bypassing me--and told the other girl, "Awak pula seroang yang gigih, dan berani. Tapi jangan terlalu tegas!" Again, I don't quite remember verbatim but it was something to that affect.

Then it was my turn. The other two got a few simple words of advice. Admittedly, some of it actually made sense, and was eerily accurate. But judging you from your signature? Really? Anyway. She looked at it, then looked at me and said "Saya dapat lihat awak akan jadi seorang yang sangat berjaya." This caught me by surprise. Nothing about my character. But now she can see the future though. The girl on my left suddenly blurted, "Tu la, saya pun rasa begitu!" I had no idea (still have no idea) if those sentiments were also based on a freaking signature. The counselor looked back at me and said, "Tapi tak mudah. Tiada apa dalam hidup mudah. Awak harus tekun... Harus kerja dengan kuat."

Back then it scared me. It was a good fear, yet something I equally dreaded. Right now I think back to those pointless words and can't help but think any idiot can say that. You'll make it big one day. Just work hard. Nothing's easy in life. Ha. Was she just talking out of her ass? Why were theirs a character study, but mine a look into my future? I honestly don't believe I'm special. 'Different' may be a better word. But special? And being told so by some dinosaur who can't even garner the respect of a classroom of 18 kids wasn't very convincing either. Perhaps it was the occasion. Perhaps it was just how I was feeling at the time. It's pointless, but for some reason, it became one of those pep talks you get etched in your head forever. Maybe it's true. Maybe one day I'll get the meaning of it. Maybe she was speaking old people speak, and I'm still unqualified/uninitiated to be able to understand.

If it is your intention to give advice--life-changing one--you don't have to be so vague or cryptic. The two best I've ever had were from the least expected sources. One was from National Service. As I said my good-byes before I left the place, my classroom instructor called me up and signed my workbook. She said, "Shazwan, sayangi diri sendiri sebelum awak sayangi yang lain. Selamat maju jaya". I respected this because 1) my name was spelt sH; 2) it was touching, and; 3) for some reason she knew I was heartbroken. Ha. But still. It made sense, and it was straight to the point. And it wasn't something far-fetched either.

The other one came from closer to home. "Here's the thing about me. I'm an asshole through and through. And I accept that. I don't feel in any way inadequate or that I have to change my ways. I am at peace with myself." This was in 2007. And he had only two As in his SPM--proof positive that you needn't degrees or PhDs or be someone 'superior' to give smartass advice.

It's pointless trying too hard, isn't it?

The Thing I Fear Most About Being A BNM Scholar

2010-01-30T13:12:00.003-05:00

Recently I had to write a personal statement for a writing class. Among ideas I threw out, in one of them I wanted to write one sentence about my thoughts on the economy way back in 2005, then juxtapose by rewriting it using terms and words and ideas I have learned since. Obviously, if you are in the field of economics (or in anything else closely related) you would know that any condition that's not optimal is what we call 'inefficient'. Ergo, anything optimal should be efficient. (well, yes, Pareto bla bla bla but let's keep it simple). Efficiency is key. A lack of it would mean the shittier the economy, but total efficiency would mean no taxes; which means we need to find a suitable trade off. And there's your second golden term, 'trade off'.

As I was spacing out in class (obviously certain people's "oh I just want to go to Africa and save the kids and cure AIDS and help the poor and hungry and just anyone at all so I must start by being a doctor" speeches left much to be desired), I realized that BNM runs in Malay. Sure some of the higher ranked officers speak English with us, but in all their official events, the emcee always speaks Malay. I tried to depict what it's like working there. Cubicle, maybe? Fine by me. Boss/supervisor hovering around to check on us? Whatever. I get pissed off by the sound of staples and the printer and the receptionist's repetitive "Bank Negara Malaysia, Jabatan XYZ . Boleh saya bantu?" when she answers the phone. Clearly this vision is heavily influenced by the 1999 film Office Space, but I digress.

I planned something that was ultimately rather inefficient, then my boss, himself quite an old-timer, reads it through. He takes off his glasses, looks at me directly with his piercing eyes and says without hiding his irritation, "Tapi...ni kan agak inefisyen, Shazwan?"

I get an "oh, fuck!" moment and am immediately drawn back to class. Another reading of a personal statement ends and I join the applause to hide my sakit hati. You never hear IT terms in Malay; they either use Manglish or just plain English. But then how is working in economics in Malay in as serious an institution as BNM, writing up reports and memos and proposals in Malay? Before the dickheads at DBP or wherever start to even think of what the Malay terms would be, here are some suggestions: trade off - tred of, dead weight loss - rugi dedwet/rugi beban mati, consumer surplus - serplas konsumer. I could be wrong, having never learned from a Malay textbook before. But if my subconscious guess was anywhere near the truth, then really, that's something I'd fear.

What Can You Do In 10 Years?

2010-01-20T16:20:00.005-05:00

Today as I was writing the date, 1/20/2010 (in America, it's month first, which is why it's 9/11), I realized that 2020 is just 10 years away. Back in the 90s when the Vision was conceived, 2020 was pretty far away. Hell, no one was even thinking about the 21st century yet. But now it's T-minus ten years and counting. But before you ask how far along are we, or are we in a position where we can make it, and if we can, will we?--think first: What can be done in a decade?

Much has been achieved in the past ten years--I'd like to say twenty, but hold that thought--in terms of development mainly because of the interweb (you see, ten only). That is a freak, once-in-a-lifetime spike in the progress of mankind. Even if there is some other form of boost to the progress of civilization in the next decade, it won't be as potent as what we have experienced in the 90s and the Noughties.

Ten years ago, 2000. I can't be arsed to Google the shit out of development or the economy or whateverthefuck political or human capital indexes. But think back to what you were doing in Y2K--where were you? what was it like? how was life without certain things back then? or how was it with certain things still there? Compare that to today, and try to think how 2020 could be for you.

The brilliant thing about getting there is that with all the inefficiency in place (those fucking separated LRT/Monorel stations) any right move will go quite a long way and will look like ridiculously huge progress. Think about it. Broadband for all and for cheap. How the fuck have we not yet had decent internet providers/service? But anyway, that would lead to among others, better e-commerce, media streaming and just better productivity from offices and businesses. How awesome would it be to order "nasi lemak satu, kasi sambal lebih, roti sardin dua, sirap limau tiga" online? Fine, it'd be against the whole "weh, lepak kat mamak jom" culture, but McDonald's, KFC and Pizza Hut are doing pretty well in terms of their delivery service. And most mamaks are 24 hours. And if that's not sold you yet--everyone loves the rotiman, so why not a mamak on wheels and a (decent) internet service?

I have lost my plot here but what I was trying to say is that despite everything that's happened in the last decade, it's gonna take us so much more in this decade to get to a level where we can actually say "Malaysia Boleh!" and actually mean it. Like 'mean it' mean it, y'know. Say it, knowing we actually boleh.

The Noughties was boosted by the emergence of the interweb and even 4-year-olds sending IMs on their BlackBerries, among other things. It's gonna be pretty hard to beat that, yet we have to to that and then some. And also take note the target that was set when Wawasan 2020 was conceived has obviously moved. So much has happened since then that was not expected--September 11 and all it's subsequent wars and security issues; the oil price thing; the credit market thing; pirated VCDs and DVDs sellling at RM5 a pop; the 2008 general elections; the bullshit in Perak and the 'Tree of Democracy'; the ban of the word 'Allah'. In each case, some people gained, some lost badly, be it financially or politically. Either way, the point here is that while we can pride ourselves all we want about our highways and our towers and bridges and whathaveyou, other people make ridiculous strides forward too. The target is moving too, but are we catching up or are we being left in its trail of dust?

Let's be honest, it's not like we planned this yesterday or even yesteryear. And when we did plan it, we made it this huge ass target and publicized it not just among ourselves and our kids, but also to the whole world. In short, we told the developed world, "siap la kau, 2020 aku nak join," so failure would not only constitute a huge embarrassment, it would be just...sad. And such a waste. Of our effort, time and money. Because when 2020 nears, all the energy and emotion and national pride we've put into it will make it such an anticipated period. Midnight, January 1, 2020, the world won't simply change for the better.

It's not just about getting more wired and more connected and having a dozen more skyscrapers in every city. It's also our mentality--something which any halfwit could tell we are sorely lacking. We have the ambition to want something. We know what can be achieved and what can be done, and we want it. That's all fine and dandy. But do we keep it up? Do we maintain whatever brainchild we conceive, or do we just jump ship to the next up-and-coming hot prospect? We can build pretty sweet schools (comparatively) but what the fuck happens after 15 years? Fans and lights don't work, yet we brush it aside and say, "Alah, budak dekat sekolah pondok habuk pun takde. Bersyukurlah dengan apa yang awak dah ada." While cost-cutting and bersederhana are admirable traits, what message do you ultimately send? Where do you draw the line, then? The Way I See It, if it was designed to work in a certain way, you fucking keep it that way regardless of anything. Too expensive? Too laborious? Why did you even bother getting it in the first place? Cutting corners and condescension won't get you far. I don't mean to sound like many a broken record, but we really lack that 'First World mentality'.

Is ten years enough? The fuck if I know.

Sadly, though, the way things are going, I just can't help but get the feeling that 2020 will come and we won't even be near where we think we should be. Then some idiot up top will come out and say something like, "Usahlah kita risau, satu tahun itu agak lama...365 hari...Oh, ya, tahun ni tahun lompat! Jadi kita ada 366 hari. Lama lagi tu..."

The Less Qualified to Complain (of the Cold)

2010-01-10T13:47:00.006-05:00

I was waiting to cross a street the other day when a girl beside me--there was only the two of us--commented on how cold it was. No shit. Despite the bright sunshine, it was -8°C and the wind chill only made it worse. Depending on which website you check, the real feel would be anywhere from -14°C to -23°C. It's not that cold, you say? Well, this is not a 'my town's colder than yours' competition. Anyway, the girl grabbed the edges of her coat and wrapped herself tightly, giving out the odd shiver, and letting me know how "ridiculously cold" it is as compared to last year.

My arms were shivering a little, I could feel the chill in my sleeves; but the relative safety (and warmth) of campus was just five minutes away, so I felt there was no need for me to join the "I hate hate hate the cold" bandwagon. But what struck me as odd was this: her boots were drenched wet up to the ankles; she was wearing only tights; her coat wasn't buttoned, which revealed her cardigan, which wasn't buttoned up, which showed her low neck line top, which revealed her chest; add to that fingerless gloves and a snow cap sitting on her hair.

Now any idiot can think of a myriad of ways for her to not feel so cold. Don't walk into puddles and wet your feet, for one? Fine, I'll baik sangka her and assume the worst-case scenario where everything bad that could happen did happen. Still. Put your hands in your pockets, maybe? Button up your coat, perhaps? I can only conclude that: 1) she just enjoys complaining, or; 2) she is genuinely cold, but is too stupid to do anything about it.

Another time I was heading to Mellon Arena for a concert. Yes, winter was just starting to kick in. We were debating whether to take the bus or drive, and the argument came down to which option wouldn't leave us outdoors longer. Would it be waiting at a bus stop, or would it be walking half way across town to where we parked? "I can't stand the cold, even though I've been here three years," someone said, "I'm from Texas". The person went on blabbering about how nice and warm it is back home and complained about the unpredictability and danger of winter and snow and ice. We all listened and nodded in agreement to humor the said person. I asked what the temperature was like in Texas. "The highest is around the 90s (°F), and sometimes it dips below freezing." After five minutes, it finally occurred to the said person that I come from: Malaysia: "Hey, aren't you from Malaysia or something?" I replied, "Yes, and it's fairly close to the Equator, too. We never get cold of any kind". Suddenly, the said person wasn't so noisy.

Yes, winter is a very depressing time of year. Don't let those sweet sounding carols fool you. The snow falls and everything's white and pretty. You build a snowman, throw a few snowballs, sled down a mound (hee) or hill, then make a snow angel or two. And it's safe, too, as long as the sidewalks are salted and the roads plowed. But then the snow melts and you find yourself walking ankle-deep in gray-colored Slurpee. The trees are leafless and eerie. No birds to be found. Nobody walks the streets. Suicide rates skyrocket as a result of the depression. And then yes, there's the cold.

The Way I See It, it already is bad enough as it is. While sometimes it may be fun to indulge in self pity or getting together with equally miserable souls because misery loves company, ultimately you only add to the already sad nature of things. It is nobody's fault that you choose style or fashion over your own well being. It is nobody's fault, too, that you chose to go somewhere you knew would be as cold as it is. The same applies to you halfwits out there who sign a long-term deal and then complain that you'll be enslaved by its bond. You did what you did, chose what you chose, knowingly. Unless, of course, you were too ignorant to think about it/read the fine print.

Seriously.

Quit whining and making things seem worse than they actually are.

Winter 2009 Movies

2009-12-18T17:07:00.013-05:00

(500) Days of Summer
10 Things I Hate About You
10,000 B.C.
21 Grams
88 Minutes
A Bridge Too Far
American Pie Presents: Book of Love
Angus, Thongs and Perfect Snogging
Apocalypse Now Redux
Australia
Avatar
Bart Got a Room
Basic Instinct
Body of Lies
Charlie Bartlett
Chaos Theory
Choke
The Cider House Rules
Definitely, Maybe
Die Hard
Die Hard 2: Die Harder
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Everything Is Illuminated
Factory Girl
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Flash of Genius
G.I. Joe: The Rise of Cobra
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How To Lose Friends & Alienate People
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Kit Kittredge: An American Girl
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Perfume: The Story of a Murderer
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Year One

Hibrid, Go Fuck Yourself!

2009-12-03T18:27:00.006-05:00

This comes on the back of reading reports that Proton, with the help of Lotus, are developing hybrid cars to serve the Malaysian market by 2011. I have no qualms with that. Malaysians are comparatively horribly sensitive to changes in fuel price, and hybrids save fuel. Simple as that. Oh, and then there's the small matter of Lotus having a hand in the project too. So you know they won't fuck it up. They helped out with the Nissan GTR, for fuck's sake.

What irks me is that because I read the report in Malay, I had to face the torment of bastard words hibrid and prototaip. On a side note, let me just say I was pleased that they used the words pangkalan and pembekal instead of making up shit like hedkuarters and suplier. But saying that, however, is like saying, "Yes it is sad I have AIDS, but at least I don't have syphilis too". That's just being condescending--or would you fuckheads at DBP or whathaveyou call it kondesending? Us Malaysians--and more importantly, us Malays--shouldn't let our standards stoop so low. Bahasa kita, bai.

Anyway, why can't we think up new words? Of course it'd be odd to sit in a room and try and make up a totally random word to represent something. But in between the time of cavemen grunting and the word-stealing culture of today, surely people must have at some point, sat down and thought, "ah this makes me happy, I'll call it a 'beewy-meewy' just because". It could be an onomatopoeia: "it buzzes, let's call it a 'buzzer'!" Anything, really. You can't just have copied everything from someone else. There had to be independently thought out languages. This isn't a Moment of Creation debate for crying out loud. It's only words, not planets and the whole freaking universe.

Back to hybrids, now. It basically means 'a combination of two or more different things'. Well I guess if haiwan dua alam couldn't make the grade--those sellout assholes preferred amfibia instead, just so they'd not sound un-English--I doubt kereta kacukan would anyway. Sure, it may sound funny because you only ever associate kacukan with orchids, selembu and people of mixed race who aren't Chindian. But so was the word hybrid funny when you mentioned it in the same breath as cars before the Prius came to town.

Then again.....Proton Saga 1.0 Kacuk doesn't sound very appealing. But still.

I am no linguist. No shit. But as I have said many times, at this rate, Bahasa Melayu will be nothing more than just English with some of its Cs spelt as K, its 'tion' spelt 'syen', and a few more which I am sure any Malaysian can tell you. Of course the languages are fundamentally different. They have reversed Hukum DM, so in Malay you'd say 'kereta biru', but in English it'd be 'blue car'. So that in itself may just ensure that BM won't degenerate/corrode/evolve into English.

But the way these idiots just simply adopt a Malay spelling for English words, I can't help but think they'll find a way around the Hukum DM too.

Are You Melayu?

2009-12-01T18:53:00.006-05:00

1. Do you like teh tarik?
No.

2. Do you like durian?
No.

3. Would you buy a Proton?
Highly unlikely. Maybe.
Yes or no only.
No.

4. At home do you wear the kain pelekat?
No.

5. If someone suddenly slapped you, how would you melatah?
"What the fuck!"

6. a) Can you translate "gendang gendut tali kecapi" to English?
No.

b) Do you even know what thats mean in Malay?
No.

c) Do you care to find out its meaning now the topic has been brought up?
Kind of. Everyone knows the poem but nobody seems to know what it means.
Yes or no only.
No.

7. Do you balik kampung for Raya?
I don't have a... --No.

8. Do you speak more English or Malay at home?
English.

9. Are you at all pissed at the irony that these questions aren't in Malay?
Can't be arsed.

10. Do you make it a point to fly MAS?
I'm on a student's budg... --No.

11. Do you think national infrastructure like Touch 'n Go should have Malay names?
What, like Sentuh dan Berambus? Fuck, no!

12. Do you like Maggi goreng?
No.

13. Have you ever been part of an 'Enam Jahanam'-esque clique?
No.

14. Do you think the suffix 'Sdn. Bhd.' makes Malaysian companies look less fancy beside their peers with 'Pte. Ltd.' or 'Corp.'?
If every Malay company was named D'Something, yes.
Yes or no only.
No, with the exception of companies named D'Whatever.

15. a) How many Malay movies do you actually like?
Seven.

b) Discount P. Ramlee movies.
Two.

16. What about Malay TV shows?
None.

17. Do you miss nasi lemak?
Not that much.
Yes or no only.
No.

18. Have you ever wore a tengkolok?
No.

19. Have you ever wielded a real kris?
No.

20. Do you know any form of silat?
No.

21. Can you speak a different dialect of Malay?
No.

22. Do you like Milo?
No.

23. Do you agree with kapchais?
No.

24. Can you play the kompang?
No.

25. Your thoughts on rambutans?
A waste of time. Too much hassle, not much to chew.

*****

I can go on.

You see, what I have done here is depict myself as an asshole--someone who, should you be a kris-wielding Kelab UMNO Overseas member (or, God forbid, UMNO Youth), you would want to stab and then give a lecture about Ketuanan Melayu and culture and budaya and adat and much, much more. Anyway, back to the topic at hand. While many out there would easily testify as to how easy it is to make me look bad as a person, as a Malay, as a Malaysian, as a student, as a son, as a Muslim, as a Tartan--as whatever--you could ask these very questions to any average Malay out there and still obtain similar results of ignorance, a lack of respect and love for one's own kind, and that wretched 'tidak apa' attitude.

While there are many of you out there who would do so much, who would give so much for your own flesh and blood, for your own kin, for your own kind; please bear in mind that how you judge a person's ethnicity is not something that's remotely objective.

By asking the wrong questions, you yourself are the asshole for ignoring the more important things in life.

Pakau Pittsburgh 2009

2009-11-26T02:41:00.003-05:00

In conjunction with Thanksgiving, a ten-round game of Royal was played between both Kimbu and Gokun. Since no one else knew/was bothered to play, both had to field two hands to make up the four-man quota. Kimbu was represented by Shamsiah as his right hand and That's_Mean as his left. Gokun fielded Kemboja on his right and Melati on his left. Four points were awarded to the winner, three for the runner up, two for third place and one for the loser.

After a tense ninety-odd minutes, separated by the odd laundry run and facebook check, Kimbu came out tops. But only barely.

Gokun took the first three rounds, with Kemboja getting two wins and Melati the other. Kimbu quickly fell six points behind by only managing a pathetic twelve points out of a possible 21. However, Kimbu was not to be outdone and Shamsiah gave him the perfect response with three wins in a row. Coupled with That's_Mean grabbing another win and avoiding defeat, the deficit was turned into a four-point lead.

That streak didn't last as Gokun won a tense eighth round with Melati leading a 1-3 finish, thus closing the gap by two points. Kimbu, whose hands both led before the start of the eighth, lost his nerve as both hands squandered their chances. That's_Mean finished the last three rounds with two last place finishes and a third, and although avoiding a loss, Shamsiah could only manage two seconds and a third. Kemboja and Melati were both very fortunate to have two sets of five cards each, so there was no qualms over their 1-2 finish.

While both Kimbu and Gokun were tied going into the final round, Shamsiah had 25 points to Kemboja's 23. So, with Kemboja needing a win and for Shamsiah to lose in order to be crowned champion, Kemboja duly delivered the goods. A nervy Shamsiah finished a close second, leaving That's_Mean the pressure of beating Melati for Kimbu to be level on points with Gokun. That's_Mean was hesitant but secured the points in the end.

Although Kemboja had four wins, the two losses ruined her chances and she lost out to Shamsiah by a solitary point. Shamsiah only had three wins, but three second place finishes and only one loss meant she was consistent enough to be top of the table end. That's_Mean showed good promise, hanging on Shamsiah's coat-tails in the seventh round. But his poor return in the final three rounds allowed Melati to squeek past, meaning he is condemned to last place.

By virtue of his six wins (Kemboja: four, Melati: two), Gokun wins the Constructor's Championship despite Kimbu being level on points.

Final standings:

Shamsiah (K) 28 pts
Kemboja (G) 27 pts
Melati (G) 23 pts
That's_Mean (K) 22 pts

Constructor's Championship:

Gokun -- 50 pts*
Kimbu -- 50 pts

*more rounds won

Round	Kemboja	Melati	Shamsiah	That's_Mean
1	4	1	3	2
2	4	2	1	3
3	3	4	2	1
4	2	1	4	3
5	2	1	4	3
6	1	3	4	2
7	1	3	2	4
8	2	4	3	1
9	4	3	2	1
10	4	1	3	2
Total	27	23	28	22

Soal Jawab Bersama Izati Ikram

2009-11-21T17:13:00.003-05:00

Imi: kau tgh buat apa?
Shazwan: nothing much
Shazwan: kenapa, imi?
Shazwan: boleh saya bantu?
Imi: i saja je nak ask few questions
Shazwan: silakan
Imi: but u have to not do anything else, cooperate fully
Imi: boleh?
Imi: its actually really good.
Shazwan: not my fault kalau aku tetiba daydream but yeah boleh je
Imi: ok u have to give me the first thing that comes to mind ok
Imi: i trust u to not cheat
Shazwan: ya baiklah
Imi: ok
Shazwan: ha
Imi: so imagine yourself walking to this satu cahaya ni
Imi: mcm nmpk distant and all
Imi: you're heading towards it now
Shazwan: kau mimpi eh
Imi: whats your surrounding like?
Imi: concentrate!!
Imi: whats your surrounding like?
Imi: is it scary? seronok? environment mcm mana
Shazwan: on one side, nothing
Shazwan: the other side, mcm pantai
Imi: how do u feel?
Shazwan: i wont say scary, tapi terkejut sbb sorg2
Shazwan: lonely
Imi: i see
Imi: ok ok
Shazwan: tapi sangat tertarik dengan cahaya tu
Imi: so you're walking at this pantai one side and nothing the other
Imi: and you're still heading towards the light
Shazwan: no bukan one side
Shazwan: its like
Shazwan: its all a beach
Shazwan: tapi bila i blink
Shazwan: tetiba jadik lantai putih
Imi: hmmm ok2
Imi: ok2
Imi: so you're heading to this light
Imi: how about do u move forward (assume i didnt say you were walking)
Imi: running, walking, merangkak ke etc
Shazwan: jalan slow2
Shazwan: perhati surroundings
Shazwan: tryingto make out what, why, when
Shazwan: then lama2
Shazwan: laju sket
Imi: but you're concentrating to the light
Imi: remember that
Imi: focus you is the light
Shazwan: when i focus on the light, yes makin laju
Imi: ok2 good
Imi: ok
Imi: then you move forward lagi
Imi: berjalan dgn laju
Imi: suddenly you jumpa flower/bunga
Imi: describe mcm mana rupa dia
Shazwan: yellow
Shazwan: and black
Shazwan: tgh2 dia where the bees will hinggap its hijau2
Imi: is it lawa/harum etc
Imi: the appeal
Shazwan: bau takde
Shazwan: bunyi pun takde (the whole thing, not just bunga)
Imi: ok
Shazwan: nampak lawa
Imi: ok ok
Shazwan: sbb its so empty then tetiba ada bunga
Imi: would you pick it up and bring the bunga with you in your journey?
Shazwan: entah
Shazwan: takut doh dgn lebah tu
Imi: so not significant la?
Shazwan: its significant in that it tells me im on the right path
Imi: but would you pick it up
Shazwan: (dalam gila jwpn aku)
Imi: tak payah pikir complex sgt shazwan
Imi: hehe
Shazwan: i'd just go up close and take a look at it
Imi: ok
Imi: so u tinggalkan the bunga
Imi: and you move forward lagi
Shazwan: haah
Imi: laju and laju
Imi: and then suddenly
Imi: u jumpa pasu bunga pulak
Imi: how would u describe the pasu
Shazwan: pasu biasa
Imi: does it look expensive? murah? lawa? besar?
Shazwan: yg ada 3 lubang kat bawah
Imi: the typical pasu?
Shazwan: yes
Shazwan: kecik je
Imi: i see
Imi: would u bring it with you?
Shazwan: (kalau jwpn tu describes penis size, aku nak tukar jadi tempayan pls)
Imi: jgn pikir mcm tu
Imi: u have to answer without thinking the implication whatsoever
Imi: so that's the first jawapan kau, i dont care. hehe
Imi: would u bring it with you in your journey to the light?
Shazwan: no
Shazwan: aku belek2 je and blah
Imi: i seeee
Imi: okay okay
Imi: so u left the pasu bunga there
Imi: and move forward laju2
Imi: and then suddenly
Imi: jumpa la tasik/sungai/tempat berair
Imi: describe how the environment is
Shazwan: sungai
Imi: and what would you do the first moment you set eyes on the place
Shazwan: byk rumput
Shazwan: banyak batu
Shazwan: ada pohon renek
Shazwan: aku pergi basuh muka
Imi: ok
Imi: how do you feel?
Imi: when seeing the place
Shazwan: sangat happy
Shazwan: macam nak skip ard and throw flowers all over the place
Imi: i see
Imi: okay2
Imi: meriah2
Imi: ok and then u leave the wonderful place behind...
Imi: pastu jalan2 lagi
Imi: dah nak sampai this light that uve been focusing on
Imi: rupa2nya
Imi: after u dah lepas the light, it's your house, apa perasaan u
Imi: nice/not nice/exciting etc
Shazwan: kecewa sikit
Shazwan: tapi lepas tu happy la sbb its home
Shazwan: not HAPPY happy
Shazwan: but yknow how theres no plc like homw
Imi: okay
Imi: so you're in front of your home
Imi: your own home tau. bukan mcm your parents punya ke apa ke
Shazwan: ha ok
Imi: how's the gate like?
Shazwan: hitam and plain
Imi: is it tall?
Shazwan: and ada like kayu on it
Shazwan: not overly tall
Imi: medium?
Shazwan: just as tall as a person
Imi: kira average la?
Imi: i see
Imi: is it locked?
Shazwan: ada remote control la!
Imi: i see. automatic
Shazwan: apa kelas gate besar2 kena bukak sdiri
Imi: okay2
Imi: ok so you passed your gate
Imi: how do you get to the door? is it like straight on je ke? on the right/left ke? naik turun bukit ke? how is it like?
Imi: ke kena pass any fountain ke
Shazwan: driveway biasa
Shazwan: straight ahead pintu masuk
Imi: driveway tu tak jauh la? ke jauh?
Shazwan: dekat je
Imi: mcm biasa je la?
Shazwan: like 3 cars bk to bk
Imi: i see okay2
Shazwan: mcm kau punya kat kajang
Imi: ok so you're in front of your front door
Shazwan: pintu kayu
Imi: describe the style and type of the KNOB
Shazwan: jenis yg solid
Shazwan: bukan hollow
Shazwan: its the lever type
Imi: stylish ke?
Shazwan: besi no less
Shazwan: minimalist design
Imi: ade ukir? besi biasa je ke
Imi: i see
Shazwan: tanak fancy2
Imi: i see
Imi: okay2 good
Imi: so u dah bukak dah pintu depan rumah u ni
Imi: bukak2 u jumpa monster!
Imi: adakah monster ini scary atau tidak
Shazwan: wtf is your problem
Imi: rupa dia mcm mana
Shazwan: tak dia comel mcm cookie monster
Shazwan: nampak palat gila
Shazwan: selekeh
Shazwan: tapi sebenarnya sgt baik dan budiman
Imi: i see
Imi: so what do u think of the monster ni
Imi: u like or dislike ke apa
Imi: takut ke
Shazwan: suka la
Imi: suka ke
Imi: suka la?
Imi: ok2
Imi: so u said to this comel monster
Imi: what are u doing in my house?
Imi: the monster said, when u were out, i took care of the house tauuuu..
Imi: what's your reaction? what would u do afterwards?
Shazwan: belai dia dgn indah
Shazwan: ckp thanks
Imi: would u keep it? treat it?
Shazwan: of course
Imi: or send it away ke apa ke
Imi: so it'll stay with you
Imi: ?
Shazwan: kalau dia takde tempat lain
Shazwan: okla
Imi: i see
Imi: okay
Imi: thats the endd
Imi: u wanna know what's the meaning of all the questions?
Shazwan: apa?
Shazwan: mesti lgsg takde
Imi: ada
Imi: the light is actually your marriage
Imi: the 1st question was environment tu kan
Imi: thats how u feel about getting married
Imi: the flower is your first love
Imi: thats your impression on your first love, and since you tak take it with you, then you're not
Imi: the pasu is, harta barang orang.
Imi: kononnya, jodoh u tu mula2 orang punya, tapi since u tak amik, then maknanya jodoh u bukan la orang punyaaa
Imi: and then after that apa ek?
Imi: oowh sungai
Shazwan: tak paham jodoh part
Imi: that's the feeling of your first night
Imi: pasu part
Shazwan: mula2 org punya
Imi: ?
Shazwan: i tak amek
Imi: so that means u tak merampas la
Imi: let's say u take the pasu, that means u merampas milik orang lain
Shazwan: oh so my jodoh isn't someone else's la?
Shazwan: duhh what kind of an asshole steals someone else's
Imi: meaning, masa u meet your jodoh
Imi: was she someone else's when u knew her etc
Imi: i took the pasu. :D if it implies on syidin then its true :D
Imi: anyway
Imi: back to your sungai
Imi: thats the feeling of your first night
Shazwan: what did i say?
Shazwan: oh
Imi: (kawan aku jawab dia jumpa tasik, dia hisap rokok dulu sblm terjun)
Shazwan: ceria sampai campak2 bunga
Imi: haha
Imi: yup2
Imi: ok lepas tu u jumpa the light and u find out its just a house
Imi: thats the feeling WHEN ure getting married
Imi: mcm u said, best, so expectations are met
Imi: some ppl say like, cheh rumah jeeeee.
Imi: meaning to say mcm they think marriage would be much greater la kononnya
Imi: pastu your gate is your privacy of your marriage
Imi: if it's high, high privacy, yours is medium so i guess ok la kut?
Imi: automatic lagi tu
Imi: (kawan i takda gate ok)
Shazwan: kau tak faham perasaan aku
Shazwan: gate kau manual
Imi: whatever
Imi: gate aku tak manual ok
Imi: anywayyyyy
Shazwan: kat kajang?
Shazwan: manual
Shazwan: jgn nak tipu
Imi: no its not
Imi: yaAllah
Shazwan: hmm
Imi: pernah ke nmpk aku keluar rumah bukakkan gate utk kau
Shazwan: thats what i remember
Imi: takda kerja aku
Imi: anyway
Imi: jgn divert pls
Imi: how to get to your front door implies on something mcm how ppl can see how your marriage is la lebih kurang
Imi: even though ada privacy and all that, but where the front door is implies on whether ure predictable or not
Imi: something like that
Imi: (ada my friend ni sampai kena naik bukit pusing2 mcm rumah dracula, dia kata)
Imi: haha
Shazwan: so aku ni predictable la?
Imi: but yea, mine is to the right skekk je
Imi: yea la kut
Shazwan: tu sbb mcm rumah kajang kau
Imi: sbb mcm depan2
Imi: tula
Imi: dah tu aku pikir how my house will be
Imi: anyway
Shazwan: monster tu bini bila dah tua?
Imi: pastu the door knob implies on your tahap 'materialistic' in ur marriage
Shazwan: oh door knob
Shazwan: lupa
Imi: ada orang pilih crystal, gold, sungguh materialistic
Imi: but since urs is just biasa2 je, then it'll be simple
Shazwan: kau sure pilih gold 24k kan
Imi: aku pilih silver :D
Imi: ok pastu the monster is actually your mak mentua
Shazwan: cis
Shazwan: apsal mak mentua
Imi: why shes a monster is because mcm 'orang asing' dlm your house
Shazwan: i see
Imi: your parents would be asing to you, your siblings wont be, so the most popular non-close family would be your mak mentua
Imi: parents wouldnt, sorry
Imi: so the impression u have on the monster is the same as to your mak mentua
Imi: comel mak mentua kau kan
Imi: selekeh plak tu
Imi: :D
Imi: lepas tu u said you'll say thanks, treat her, and let her stay with u
Shazwan: cis
Imi: bagus
Imi: :D
Imi: but yea, these are questions from fazilah kamsah. and majority mmg true
Imi: my friend pernah tanya his newlywed friends
Imi: mmg everyone knows how they're like, how he's a bit uninterested to her
Imi: sebelum kahwin ada main dua etc
Imi: so both bunga and pasu dia kutip skali dgn dia
Imi: rumah takda gate, pintu depan2
Imi: nak ke light, merangkak2
Imi: jumpa light ckp e'elehhhh
Imi: stuff like that la
Imi: but up to you to believe it or not. it may just be to reflect how u are ke apa ke. so far jawapan anda semua ok
Imi: hehe
Imi: kawan aku kata monster tu banyak tanduk, banyak mata, banyak gigi semua tajam2
Imi: pastu scary gila
Imi: pastu bila dia ckp dia jaga rumah, he said 'i dont fucking care! get out of my house!'
Imi: hahaha
Imi: ada kawan aku lagi sorang kata nak go mandi bogel dalam tasik
Shazwan: i bet tua nanti dia adore gila inlaw dia
Imi: haha tula
Imi: all kinds of answer yg aku tak expect langsung la
Shazwan: dah berapa byk org kau tanya?
Shazwan: and apa motif kau tanya semua org?
Imi: a few la jugak. belas2
Shazwan: sibuk gila hal org lain
Imi: saja, for funnnn
Imi: mcm la kau dah kahwin
Imi: mcm la kalau kau kawin next year pun i wont remember la all this
Imi: i dont even remember all my answers
Shazwan: bongok gila
Imi: so aku takdala nak ingat jawapan smorang
Imi: takde keje aku
Imi: my brain needs space for other stuff. not for ppl's marriage
Shazwan: hmm\
Shazwan: so its just marriage and perception of in law la?
Imi: yeap2
Shazwan: initially aku ingat kau mimpi kau kejar cahaya
Imi: what the heck
Imi: aku kurang mimpir pelik2 skrg
Imi: byk mimpi scary2 je
Shazwan: kau tetiba dtg tanya aku "ok you're chasing a light"
Shazwan: aku lagi patut tanya wtf
Imi: hahahahhhahaha
Imi: i know, agak random

Aku 'Kan Bertahan

2009-11-19T23:59:00.002-05:00

Asalnya aku takut,
Aku terkilan;
Asik fikir aku tak dapat hidup tanpamu di sisiku;
Tapi banyaklah malam aku fikir,
Betapa kau sangat jahat,
Aku jadi kuat,
Aku terus hidup sihat

Kau pulang dari,
angkasa lepas;
Aku balik lihat engkau
Muka monyok konon kesal;
Aku patut tukar mangga,
Kau patut tinggalkan kunci;
Kalaulah ku dapat agak aku 'kan dikacaui

Pergilah, pergi!
K'luar dari sini!
Sila kau pusing!
Kehadiranmu tak disenangi
Bukan ke kau yang nak menyakiti aku
Apa, kau pikir ku jatuh?
Kau pikir hatiku musnah begitu?
Oh, langsung tak!
Aku 'kan tahan;
Selagi ku tahu cinta,
Ku pasti ku 'kan bertahan;
Panjang lagi hidup aku,
Banyak lagi cinta aku,
Dan aku 'kan tahan,
Aku 'kan tahan;
Yeah-eah!

Banting tulang empat kerat,
Supaya ku tabah;
Dengan gigihnya ku baiki
Hati yang patah;
Entahlah berapa malam
Aku merungut seorang;
Dulu kememeh!
Kini ku yakin je lebih;
Kau lihatku,
Orang baru,
Aku takkan terpikat dengan
Janji manismu;
Dan kau singgah seketika,
Mengharap ku layanimu,
Cintaku hanya untuk si dia,
yang menyintai aku

Armchair Opinions vs. Genius Opinions

2009-11-19T14:36:00.006-05:00

Someone once said, if a product is really good, the established brands would go all out and invest in it. You would not find it in late night TV ads where salesmen scream at your face that it would change your life forever and that buying it within 15 minutes would save you one payment of $49.95. Which is rather true. Of everything you see people like the late Billy Mays promote in those dodgy adverts--the Sham Wow, the Mighty Mendit--just how many have made it into the mainstream market? As far back as I can remember, only the reverse sensor thing traded up, because car manufacturers deemed it brilliant and a good thing to have when reversing, and so offered it themselves.

The point here is that people in these big ass companies tend to know what they're doing--which is why they are big ass companies in the first place. Sometimes we look at something new and think "oh, for fuck's sake, nobody wants that!" But yet our majority voice is proven wrong as in the case of the BMW X6. On paper it's pointless: a coupé SUV. That's like a supermodel with a mustache--it just defeats its purpose. But then within weeks after reading about it in magazines and seeing it get bashed in Top Gear, I see one on the road both in Pittsburgh and Kuala Lumpur. So it's safe to conclude that they were aiming for a niche market, then. You would think that making something pointless would mean zero sales, but that's where we're wrong. What we fail to see is that there is a reason there are so many weird shit these days: that niche is getting more populous by the day. Think about it. Some people just want to be different. Could be 'different, bad'; could be 'different, good'. There are 6 billion people on the face of this Earth. Sure, when you discount the poor, the old, the young, the ones who can't drive, the tree-huggers who only buy hybrids, the hypocrites who only buy electric cars, etc., you're left with anywhere from a few thousand to a few hundred million--but ultimately whatever fraction of the market share you have, that is somehow a fraction of the said 6 billion. In cases such as the X6, our opinions are rendered null and void because: 1) they sell, and; 2) they make money. Of course one can't help but think that they made the X6 just to steal potential Cayenne customers simply by making something less ugly (anything would have done, really). It may not be as capacious or as ridiculously fast as the Cayenne...but, oh well.

A little more on the niche thing. As recently as the mid-1990s, Mercedes Benz had something like 13 models which they had manufactured since before 1980. In the Noughties, however, things began to change, this niche thing kicked in, and now they have 29 models--each with its own unique chassis. You once had the tiny A-Class, the mid-sized C-Class, the executive E-Class, the big cheese-favorite S-Class, a van, a roadster, and a few coupés. Suddenly there was a reason to fill that gap between the A and C--whether it's because someone in their ranks went OCD and simply wanted the continuity of A, B, C,..., or whether they did the whole market research shebang and realized a substantial enough amount of people thought the A was too small and the C too big, who the fuck knows? Then, in even more recent years, there's the CL, the SLS and the GLK--all just slightly different than present models--and the R and CLS, which--like the BMW X6--is neither here nor there. Not content with the ML-Class SUV being big enough for Americans, they just had to add in the ridiculously large G-Class. Which is huge, I might add. But hey, who are we to question them? They are, after all 'The Future of The Automobile'. And also a corporation.

And then there are times when our cries of "what the fuck were you thinking?" are proven correct: when these so-called geniuses retract their claims, undo their changes, or simply stop producing. Like the current 3-Series. In 2005, the E90 iteration was launched and to my horror, top of the trademark kidney grilles were on the bonnet instead. So when the bonnet was up, the grilles were...incomplete. On top of that, they got rid of their traditional L-shaped tail lamps. I thought it was ridiculous that they could do something like that to their own icon. The bumpers made the car look 'fat'; like its curves were a little too much. It lost the sleek and streamlined design of its predecessor (which, funnily enough, was also chunky at first but was then also given a nip and tuck). I hated the car for what it had become, but then I thought perhaps it was for the best. Maybe these smart asses in Munich know what they're doing after all? Maybe they're trying to shed a certain image emanated by the previous generations? Perhaps they're ahead of the game, and this is where design and fashion is headed? I was just about to accept it when, in 2008, those chaps in Munich gave the E90 a major facelift:

"The front and rear bumper, the wing mirrors, the headlamps and the tail lamps which return to the classic BMW L-shape as well as bonnet ("hood") and boot lid ("trunk") were changed."

I love the 3-Series. We've had an E36 in the family for quite some time now and it's truly brilliant for the price you pay (compared to the Mercedes Benz C-Class at that time). But never have I ever thought the newer ones were better looking. At least before their respective facelifts.

For yet another example, take a look at the 1998 Fiat Multipla. Horrendous.

Haven't seen it yet? Google it.

Yes. That.

That thing came from Fiat. Fiat is based in Italy, and--among other things--Fiat owns Ferrari. Ferrari is the company that makes beauties like the F355 and the Enzo. Italy is the country obsessed with style and fashion--Jeremy Clarkson once said, "style here is everything. Looking good is even more important in a car than looking where you're going. Looking good even takes precedence over the law,"--which is rather true, really. Italy is also the country where Alfa Romeo and Lamborghini are based. Alfa Romeo is the company that makes the Alfa Brera. Lamborghini is the company that makes the Murcielago and the Gallardo. So just how, really, could something like the Multipla come out of Italy. It's just too ironic to be true. But somehow, it is. Apparently it was designed to be the modern version of the Multipla 600 of the 1960s. It's not quite a flattering remake, really. Sales were good in Italy, mainly due to it being a Fiat. Elsewhere, people gawked at the design. Nevertheless, it stayed in production and won some awards for being 'different'. In 2004, however, Fiat commissioned a major facelift to increase sales. And now, the Multipla actually looks like a normal car. Ha!

But this proves it wasn't for a niche market. Perhaps they put millions (if not billions; then again it depends on the denomination) to waste because that's just part and parcel of taking risks. Stupid risks, maybe? They probably make so much more than they lose anyway. But I guess it just goes to show everyone makes mistakes.

And that sometimes, us armchair pundits' opinions are actually valid.

And that they should indeed, listen to us.

Sometimes.

Karangan Autobiografi: Aku Seketul Lobak Bayi

2009-11-06T21:30:00.010-05:00

Aku seketul lobak bayi. Sejarah hidupku amat panjang, tetapi sama ada ia menarik atau tidak, terpulanglah pada telinga yang mendengar.

Asal usulku, bukanlah sesuatu yang aku alami, apatah lagi faham. Yang aku tahu, aku berasal daripada seketul biji lobak yang diberaki seekor kibasy. Kenapa kau gelak? Tatkala kau lahir, tahukah engkau mak kau matanya sepet, atau ayah kau bantut? Kenapa seekor kibasy? Itu semua takdir. Semuanya sudah ditentukan oleh Yang Maha Berkuasa. Qada' dan Qadar. Siapakah kita untuk pertikaikan atau persoalkan tindak tandukNya? Tapi, ya, begitulah permulaan hidupku: seketul tahi. Angin, hujan, matahari terik, ribut taufan, kanak-kanak berlari-lari, petani menggembur tanah; tahi tersebut menjadi satu dengan bumi dan aku tertanam.

Musim datang dan musim pergi. Musim hujan. Musim panas. Daripada biji, aku berubah menjadi seketul lobak. Berbulan-bulan aku tertanam, aku tidak tahu apa-apa, bagaikan katak di bawah tempurung. Apa yang berlaku di atas, aku tidak tahu dan aku tidak peduli. Kami semua bersyukur dengan apa yang kami ada, tidak seperti The Little Mermaid, yang terlalu ingin tahu akan alam atas tanah seperti yang dinyanyikannya dalam lagu Part of Your World. Kami semua gembira bersederhana. Benar, apabila kami dibanjiri air, kami semua terpinga-pinga kerana tidak tahu dari manakah punca air. Datangnya kadang-kadang teratur, kadang-kadang tidak. Hujan atau siraman petani, kami tidak tahu. Yang penting bagi aku dan rakan-rakan lain di sekitarku adalah kami bersyukur ke hadrat ilahi atas rezeki air minuman itu. Kerana dengan rezeki itulah aku dan rakan-rakanku semua membesar dan mengalami berbagai perubahan dari segi mental dan fizikal. Kami semua sedar kami ini hanyalah lobak yang tidak seberapa. Tapi kami gembira kerana masyarakat kami aman dan damai.

Pada satu subuh yang hening, aku terkejut dari tidurku apabila terdengar jeritan seorang teman. Jeritan itu begitu panjang dan tajam sehingga perit yang dialaminya boleh dirasai semua. Pertama kali dalam hidup, kami semua terasa cemas. Meremang bulu lobak kami semua. Itu bukanlah satu situasi yang kami jangka boleh berlaku; manalah nak terlintas dalam fikiran sebatang lobak. Tiba-tiba dia senyap. Keadaan sunyi sepi itu sama menakutkan juga kerana kami tidak tahu apa yang berlaku, dan sama ada ia akan berulang. Semua terlalu gentar untuk berkata; lidah kami terlalu berat ketakutan. Aku cuba memujuk diri sendiri. "Ini hanyalah satu mimpi buruk" kata suara kecil dalam kepalaku, penuh optimis. Namun, tenang itu hanya tahan seketika kerana jiran sebelahku pula mengilai sekuat hatinya. Dia melalak sehingga habis nafasnya. Walaupun dia dekat saja denganku, suaranya makin lama makin pudar. Hatiku berdebar-debar. Nafasku tercungap-cungap. Makin ramai menjerit. Tubuhku kejang; aku hanya dapat pejam mata dan berdoa semuanya akan berakhir. Namun, harapan aku semuanya palsu. Kita merancang, tapi tuhan yang menentukan semuanya.

Ia mula dengan sesuatu menggenggam rambutku dengan erat. Fine, bukan rambut tapi pucuk-pucuk dan daun-daunku. Tubuhku ditarik ke atas; mula-mula lembut, tiba-tiba disentap dua, tiga kali. Hanya tuhan yang tahu betapa sakitnya tatkala akarku terpisah; tak terungkap betapa pedihnya pengalaman itu. Bagai ditusuk sembilu? Tusukan sembilu hanya sekadar gigitan semut jika dibandingkan dengan peristiwa penuh trauma itu. Tubuhku tak dapat terima semuanya. Aku boleh rasa pedihnya itu berdenyut-denyut. Aku pitam.

Apabila aku sedar, aku dan teman-temanku dilonggok dalam sebuah bakul. Terdapat juga lobak-lobak lain yang belum pernah aku kenal. Itulah kali pertama aku melihat--kami melihat. Betapa indahnya dunia ini, penuh dengan warna, penuh dengan watak-watak menarik. Burung berkicauan, lalang menari ditiup angin, kanak-kanak berkejar-kejaran. Walaupun kami masih lagi dalam keadaan terkejut kerana perubahan drastik, kami agak gembira dengan dunia baru ini.

Semua lobak kemudiannya dilonggok mengikut saiz. Kami yang kecil masih lagi bersama, namun beberapa rakan kami hilang entah ke mana. Tidak lama kemudian, satu lagi tangan manusia datang membelek kami satu persatu. Tanah pada tubuh kami dibersihkan, pucuk kami dipotong. Kami semua togel! Begitulah nasib kami seumat lobak yang tak bersalah. Apalah dosa kami sampai disakiti begini? Mengapa kami dilayan sebegini? Akhir sekali kami dibasuh sebelum dimasukkan ke dalam paket plastik Giant Eagle. Empat puluh lobak dimasukkan ke dalam setiap paket. Aku hanya kenal satu daripada lobak-lobak sepaket denganku, tapi itulah sahabat karibku. Dari kecil lagi kami bagaikan aur dengan tebing, bagaikan isi dengan kuku; siap ukir nama pada batang pokok, bersertakan kata-kata "kawan sampai mati" atau "BFF". Walaupun aku ditempatkan dengan tiga puluh lapan lobak lain yang asing bagiku--ada yang kurang matang, yang kurang menarik, yang menggunakan bahasa "kita" dan "awak"--kehadiran satu teman itu saja cukup untuk menggembirakan hati kecilku ini. Paket demi paket disusun dalam kotak, dan semuanya dihantar ke cawangan-cawangan Giant Eagle. Pahit-manis juga, fikirku. Aku meninggalkan semua kenalanku kecuali satu, dan memulakan hidup baru dengan lobak-lobak baru. Tapi kami semua berpeluang melihat dunia. Duduk diam bersama-sama di satu tempat tetapi buta, atau melancong seorang, melihat pelbagai adat dan budaya? Tepuk dada, tanya selera. Itulah asam garam kehidupan, rasanya.

Paket kami ditempatkan di rak sayur-sayuran. Tidak lama kami di situ disebabkan kami di hadapan. Seorang lelaki awal dua puluhan mengambil kami ke dalam trolinya. Sesetengah lobak agak takut kerana, sekali lagi, masa depan kami pudar. Mungkinkah kami disiat-siat lagi? Mungkinkah kami dipotong pula? 'Mengapa mahu potong lobak?' fikirku, sungguh naif. Pada pendapat aku, jika kita harus melanguk di atas rak sayuran, menanti diambil pelanggan, lebih baik jika ia berlaku secepat mungkin. Cepat mula, cepat habis? Selepas troli, terlalu banyak berlaku, mungkin juga ingatanku tidak berapa tajam. Tapi aku tahu kisah pada masa ini mengandungi kaunter bayaran, beg plastik, sebuah bas dan lif.

Tuan aku mengoyakkan paket lobak dan mengambil segenggam teman-temanku. Aku tidak sedih tapi tidak pula gembira. Sesuatu berlaku pada mereka--entah baik, entah tidak--bila akan giliranku nanti, tahulah aku segalanya. Sekarang aku hanya mahu duduk diam bersabar.

Satu hari--mungkin setelah dua bulan kami tak terusik di dalam peti ais tuan aku--satu tangan mencapai ke rak bawah di mana kami ditempatkan. Semua terjerit-jerit memanggilnya; semua berebut hendak dipilih. Kami lihat kukunya yang kuning; ini sudah pasti si penghisap rokok, teman tuan aku. Kami semua hampa. Dia seorang remaja sejati; semestinya tidak akan makan sayur. Kami hanya sekadar sayur jingga yang tidak pahit. Kami hanya kek pelik yang banyak kacang dan buah. Kami hanya jus entah apa-apa yang diminum perempuan yang sedang jaga badan atau belia dengan masalah jerawat. Hidup kami kini bagaikan satu pertandingan sengit. Terlalu ramai yang bertanding, tapi boleh dikira dengan jari berapa saja yang terpilih. Apabila peti ais dibuka, kami semua penuh dengan harapan. Jika tangan itu datang ke arah plastik, kami semua berebut supaya dipilih. Persahabatan tiada erti lagi. Dunia kami ini, jika diterangkan dalam Bahasa Inggeris, umpama "a dog eat dog world". Kini kawan makan kawan. Kini kami tidak boleh harapkan sesiapa lagi. Hidup kami, tanggungjawab kami. Teman dan sahabat hanya sekadar zahir sahaja. Keakraban dulu semuanya boleh dilupakan: isi dengan kuku, aur dengan tebing, ukiran pada batang pokok--itu semua boleh dilupakan. Mereka tak boleh dipercayai; mereka sanggup melupakan segalanya untuk kebaikan sendiri. Aku tak salahkan mereka. Aku juga begitu. Kini kami harus dipilih! Aku harus dipilih! Aku tak boleh jadi si baik yang mengizinkan lobak lain pergi dahulu, kerana mungkin peluang ini tidak akan datang lagi. Berapa lama lagi boleh seketul lobak melanguk di dalam peti ais? Dunia ini luas, penuh dengan segala macam hidupan dan ciptaan. Aku enggan terkurung dalam sebuah peti, sementara dunia di luar...hidup!

Tapi apakan daya, cubalah kami sedaya upaya untuk diambil, tidak sekali pun datang tangan tuan aku ke arah paket kami. Kami bersabar kerana harapan. Tapi harapan kami semakin tipis semakin hari. Sabar yang sudah lama bertahan terhakis sedikit demi sedikit. Perasaan hampa mula muncul dalam hati kami. Antara dua puluh lebih lobak yang tinggal, ada yang sudah tidak siuman, ada yang bercakap dengan diri sendiri, ada pula yang sudah berdiam selama berbulan-bulan. Sikap optimistik dan keinginan kami untuk hidup gembira...semuanya sudah dilupakan. Kami hanya mahu sesuatu untuk berlaku. Mengapa nasib kami sebegini? Lobak yang masih bertahan juga tidak seperti dulu. Keceriaan zaman kanak-kanak sudah lusuh. Aku tidak tahu apa yang akan berlaku setelah diambil tangan itu. Tapi aku yakin aku akan diambil, dan aku akan lebih gembira kerana begitu lama aku tunggu, tak seperti lobak-lobak sebelumku. Ya, aku akan gembira! Aku pasti aku akan gembira. Aku memberitahu teman-teman yang lain, memberi mereka semangat bahawa masih lagi ada harapan. Tapi, fikirku setelah bersuara, aku rasa kata-kataku lebih untuk memujuk diriku daripada yang lain. Peti itu buka. Peti itu tutup. Kami sudah tidak hairan.

Satu malam yang agak hening, tuan aku mengambil paket kami. Ada antara kami yang terkejut, ada yang menangis kegembiraan, ada yang sudah tidak peduli tentang apa-apa. Asalnya aku fikirkan ini satu mimpi; terlalu lama aku fikirkannya, mungkin ini cuma satu khayalan saja. Tapi aku lihat lobak-lobak lain dibelah dua, ada yang dibelah tiga. Inikah masa depan yang kami nantikan selama ini? Nasibku baik--Alhamdulillah, aku terlalu kecil jadi tidak perlu dipotong. Aku penuh simpati akan teman yang kini terbelah dua, tiga bahagian. Tuan meletakkan kami dalam sebuah mangkuk dengan mee kuning. Dia kemudiannya menumis bawang dan ayam dengan seketul kiub tom yam. Sekali lagi aku tak berdaya hendak bersuara. Seperti waktu aku dicabut dari tanah, aku kaku saja sambil yang lain panik.

"Ya, sudah siap ditumis!" jerit tuan. Aku tidak berkata apa. Yang lain masih lagi tertanya-tanya, berdoa, dan mengenangkan nasib. "Carrot, you kat mana sayang? Carrot dengan mee? Apa, korang nak sorok daripada aku?" teriak si bodoh itu. "Kimak ah--oh there you are," katanya apabila terjumpa mangkuk. Diambilnya kami dan dituang ke dalam tumisannya itu. Aku ingat setiap detik jatuh itu. Aku bergolek ke belakang tiga kali sebelum terlanggar bucu kuali lalu jatuh ke lantai. Aku...selamat? Namun aku tidak gembira, kerana aku tidak tahu akan kebajikan teman-teman lain. Memang, ada di antara mereka yang tanpa segan silu memburukkan namaku semata-mata untuk dipilih, tapi setidak-tidaknya aku mempunyai sejarah dengan mereka. Mungkin aku lobak sentimental. Fine. Aku sudah kering hati selepas segala peristiwa yang aku alami. Ketika aku ingin gembira, ada pula yang harus ditangisi. Ketika aku mahu bersedih, ada pula yang lebih malang daripadaku. Tiba-tiba tuan aku sedar aku terbaring di lantai dapurnya. "Eh, apa ni? E'eh ada lobak terjatuh. Three second rule, nak? Dah tiga minit kot, bongok. Hmm. Buang je la. Hiargh!"

Begitulah kisah hidupku. Tidak cukup aku melanguk dalam tanah, melepak dalam sebuah bakul, menunggu atas rak sayuran, menanti seumur hidup dalam sebuah peti ais, kini aku harus ulangi semuanya dalam sebuah tong sampah. Mungkin inilah yang nasibku: walaupun hidupku mengandungi pelbagai bab yang menarik, aku tetap seorang penanti sahaja; menanti saja bab berikutnya. Tapi bab ini sedikit berbeza. Kini aku mula dengan perasaan kesal. Ya, aku tahu lobak asing itu tidak seberapa menarik, tapi setidak-tidaknya mereka lobak seperti aku. Kini aku dalam sebuah tong sampah, penuh dengan pelbagai macam sisa yang kotor dan berbau. Dulu aku enggan cuba sedaya upaya, aku hanya sabar menunggu sesuatu berlaku. Semua kerana apa? Kerana aku terlalu idealistik? Kerana aku tidak mahu terlalu agresif terhadap kaumku sendiri? Apa yang aku tidak sedar dahulu adalah bahawa aku gagal ikut peraturan. Jika kita terpaksa makan kawan untuk meneruskan hidup, itulah yang harus dilakukan. Kalaulah aku dapat ulangi segalanya semula. Aku terfikir seketika tentang teman-temanku; mereka akan dimakan. Mereka akan ulangi peredaran hidup. Asal kami daripada biji. Mereka akan dimakan dan biji mereka akan diberaki dan mungkin lobak-lobak baru akan tumbuh, menanti satu masa depan yang tidak diketahui. Aku sedih kerana bukan saja aku gagal hidup sepanjang hidupku, aku gagal memanjangkan zuriatku.

The Difference A Penis Makes - Part I

2009-11-02T10:41:00.004-05:00

As I was taking a piss in NJ's bathroom, she spoke to me from her room.

NJ: Kau kencing ke apa?
Me: Kencing.
NJ: Apasal takde bunyi?
Me: Kau tengah cakap dengan aku, dia jadi segan.
NJ: Oh, hahaha bodoh. Eh, nanti aku nak paint the wall that you're looking at. Kau rasa OK tak?
Me: Why would you wanna do that? There's the jamban, the sink, the cabinet. Dahla leceh nak get into all the tight spaces, surely the paint will get on the sides of the cabinet and all. Baik kau cat dinding tepi ni--ada towel rack je.
NJ: Eh, tak la! That wall you're facing mana ada apa-apa, that's the easiest! It only has the door frame and the light switch. Yang tepi tu leceh jugak sebab ada jamban.
Me: But the wall I'm facing...
NJ: ...is the easiest, I have NOTHING to deal with!
Me: The wall I'm facing has everything to deal with. You do know I piss standing up, kan?

In All Honesty...

2009-10-16T13:35:00.007-04:00

In all honesty, I have fallen. A long time ago, in fact. And have never been able to stand up again. Perhaps I have, but not as tall as I ever did before. I have been hiding so much, concealing so much. So much so that it's now a habit, this mask I wear as I am among others. When was the last time you truly felt happy? Perhaps 'happy' is misleading. When was the last time you woke up and not thought "please just let this day end"? It would be silly to say every day is worse than the day before. But in all honesty, I hope with all my heart that this day would end, just so that it'll be tomorrow. Because tomorrow is much closer to next week. Which is much closer to next month. Which would mean I'd be much closer to 2010, Senior year, graduation (if that happens), work, and whatever the hell comes after that. And yet I am not saying I merely want school to be over with. I wanted that so badly back in high school, and what has that brought me? Despite all it's deprivations, I actually enjoyed school. Or at least I didn't feel so out of my skin while I was there. You try hard to find your footing--in my case, I take years; I won't be surprised if I only learn to accept my life as it is right now the day before I am due to return for good. Then one day you lose it all, and you're back at square one and before you is a mountain to climb which you just look at and think it's just too much. Not now; gimme a while, perhaps. Or maybe you even try to find the right motivation. And you spend so long quipping yourself at base camp you actually make a life out of it and conveniently forgo doing what you initially intended to. Obviously, it's a confidence thing or perhaps an ego thing. Seeing those you thought equal or below you now better off; seeing people do shit while you waste your life ruing missed chances.

Upbringing. I have always been in schools and societies where I have been trained to not be the failure. Look at how people frown upon the idiots who can't do their homework, who fail in school, who can't get all A's in public exams. I may sound a tad arrogant there, but back when your eardrums were burning from everything your teachers had to instill in you, that was your bread and butter. Do you seriously think we do well just because we want to? Well right there we have an incentive to do well just so as to not be the flop, the disappointment, the loser. Hardly the ideal reason for learning. Perhaps going to a so-called elite school has scarred my perception of those who chose other vocations instead, those who choose to bring home the bacon with their hands instead of their heads. But then again, it's just normal for society to frown upon school dropouts and those who do things different.

Religion. Do I pray five times a day? In all honesty, no. There are too many questions, too many doubts. I don't doubt the existence of a higher power, of God and Heaven and all of that. But I haven't been doing what is expected of me, and then an exam comes and I want to say a little prayer and think 'only in times of hardship do I turn to You', and out of embarrassment, stop. When we go out, and you say "hey let's go to the surau", I don't avoid the situation because I am anti-Islam. If I join you, it's because I don't want to look like an asshole when compared next to you. Hardly the ideal niat for a prayer. I want it to come from within, like it did a few years ago. But nothing comes from within unless you nurture it. And finding a means of doing just that without anything/anyone patronizing, or forceful or insincere--that is my goal in terms of the spiritual as of now. Or at least it should be.

White lies. I don't believe in them. You tell one thinking it's nothing but it's a slippery slope and you soon realize one stupid little detail is now ready to screw you over. One day, many years ago, I chose not to. I chose honesty. Which is why I tell you what I think you should know. Which is also why I told her everything, despite knowing the outcome. Not the smartest thing to do, you may say. Sure, I could have withheld some things, twisted this and that a little to make it seem more presentable. I can't live with that; knowing you or everyone else happily thinking everything's peachy when there really is a catch. As far as I'm concerned, there's an elephant in my room and that needs to be addressed. But ultimately you know you can't lie to yourself. Perhaps transparency is just my thing. Maybe I like knowing people's intentions and their feelings on a certain issue because, having once been given the benefit of the doubt, I now know how easily one could misinterpret a situation. And from that, I in turn try to make myself as clear as possible so you won't hear "B" when I say "A". But seriously, if I told you I enjoyed your company, I don't see any reason why I made that up, and I probably said so because I want you to know that. If I told you I appreciate something you did; same thing there. If I said I wanted this or needed that--I don't ask people for much, but when I do, it's usually no joke. If I told you I set you apart, or that I think you're different or that you're special, or just plain bodoh, that would be because I am convinced it's true. If I told you I love you, or indeed abhor you--two words I choose carefully before speaking them--in all honesty, I meant that with all my heart.

Mistakes. I regret them all. But what I deem a mistake, may not seem one to you. And what you deem as one may not seem like one to me. Perhaps I was too hard in telling people to not be so "in your face" about things. Yes, we're all hyped about the new changes in our lives (the better ones, at least). But ultimately, as brilliant as we think whatever we have is, others have pretty much something similar. Universities, for example, will all have lawns and quads and dorms and libraries and statues of some honorable person. Fine, yours may not have a fence that's painted every day, or a leaning metal pole with people walking on them, but surely it has its own idiosyncrasies. Perhaps my mistake is in being a hypocrite: in doing what I hate, practicing what I preach against. I guess even writing this in itself is a form of hypocrisy on my part. I hate this, I really do. If someone else wrote it, I wouldn't give a rat's ass about it. Ranting about your troubles. Other people have theirs too, tak kecoh pun, etc., etc. No, this isn't a form of Stockholm Syndrome. Do not assume this will happen on a regular basis. I just need a medium to let some things out.

Cheating. I once sneaked to the bathroom to review notes during an exam. On another occasion, a friend and I took the easy way out by taking pictures of exam papers before the exam. That's, it really. And maybe playing the game cheat, or bluff, or bullshit. I make a horrible liar. I can't even get on a bus with someone else's ID. I can plan a lie for someone else--a very good one at that--but when it comes to executing it myself, I fail miserably. Which brings me to the issue of loyalty. Yes, it is a virtue. But only if you do so by forgoing something else that's rather valuable. If you are loyal just because you try as best you can and time and again fail at infidelity, then you shouldn't be lauded. You're an asshole, and a pathetic one at that. And the sad thing is that maybe I am headed in the direction of becoming the aforementioned pathetic asshole. Who knows?

Loss. How many close ones have died? For as far back as I can remember, I lost both maternal grandparents. My grandmother was bedridden for years before that, and I wasn't quite close to my grandfather either. When they died, it was...just an occasion. It didn't have an impact on me as it should have on others. It's been years now, and everyone who matters to me are still fine and dandy. I have always had this feeling that I am somehow incomplete for not knowing this darker, morbid side of life. How people can be there one day, and lie six feet under the next. And this feeling extends to other forms of loss too. Of how a parent can just up and run away. Of the dynamics of families in broken homes, or even polygamous families. I am not saying that these are interesting and that I want a piece of the action too. Far from it. Of those I know who are part of one or more of the above, they actually seem the happiest people of all. But if you peel away the layers, you can see that deep down inside is concealed a very delicate, scarred creature. But they stand up and live another day; they live carrying their sad truths along with 'em 24/7. What I am interested here is:

How they've dealt with it, and;
How it's made them stronger.

I am not one to tempt fate. If anything untoward were to happen to me or my closest relations, I really don't know how my life would go on. I keep very few close to me because I don't trust easily. Of course, many others suffer a worse fate, but I believe the effects on our lives and especially our emotions and conscience is all relative. If you only had a dollar and I took it, you're done for. But if someone had $100, I'd have to steal 100 times more from him (than I did you) to ensure he'll feel just as miserable. As far as your head is concerned, you lost that much percentage of whatever. Perhaps that's a horrible example, but if you don't get my point, I won't lose any sleep. But anyway, I can't blame my parents for overprotecting me, now can I? Some things they just don't want you to know or see or hear. But for your own good, for your own toughing up, you have to experience these things. Like car accidents or seeing one of those fights your parents have when so much more than just expletives are thrown at each other. Nobody would wish something like that to their own child. But in my case, I see my parents argue once, one of them raises their voice and--boom!--the waterworks begin. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and see how deformed my face looks. That kind of crying. You have no control whatsoever of your face. That kind. It saddens me that I am that weak; that when I try to tell this to someone--whaddya know--that somebody's parents has an extremely twisted storyline, and that's just the way that somebody's life have been ever since. Perhaps after all these years of more rights than wrongs, I am under the illusion that everything is fine and dandy the way they are, and that the slightest change of the status quo is bad. Oh, but it is.

Cynicism. It's a good thing, really. For one, I would rather think you an asshole and feel embarrassed and have to eat my own words later on if/when you prove me wrong. Instead of thinking such wonderful things about you, only to be let down by your shortcomings. Cynicism is actually enlightening. It helps you see what you wouldn't usually see. Take me for example: I will never jaywalk. Do you think that's down to me being a toilet-trained law-abiding citizen? Hell, no. I listen to my iPod wherever I go on foot. If the sign says 'Don't Walk', I don't walk in fear of getting hit by a bus. Not because the policeman will catch you and scold you. Or the law says so. Or just because. Ambiguity is in every single little thing we do. No one's a true altruist. In whatever case you can think of, there will always be something in it for so-called budak baik. Besides, it is very easy for people to conceal their thoughts or their intentions. Their faces may betray their what their heart feels. You'll never know if someone has a hidden agenda, an ulterior motive or a hidden ace up his sleeve. Sure, it's not always a bad thing, but sometimes we fail to see these things and find ourselves feeling a tad bit used or tricked in the end. I'm not asking you to be an insecure prick; just be aware of things that you find don't add up properly.

Names. Seriously, people. Spell it right. Especially your friends' names. And say it right too. Mikaeels, don't sell out and let people call you Michael instead. This is a fundamental aspect of respect: get your shit right in hopes that the level-headed others get theirs right too. Names are extremely personal. Some names come with a bit of history in it, be it a lineage or simple in memory of someone great. I already hate you if you think it's okay to not be too perfect when it comes to this. Yes, the world is such a colorful place and it's all down to variety. You can choose to be different, as long as it's not wrong. If I said "I need to go home", and someone else wanted to say the same thing but not repeat me verbatim, he could say "I got to head back". But if you wanted in on our little farewell and chose to be different by saying "Yeah, I need go back", then you are just asking for a punch in the face. Sure what you say will be implied as meaning the same. But it isn't, is it? Languages have their structure and grammar for a reason. Of course it's not always straight forward to grasp at, but you still do things the right way because that's how they intended it to be, whoever they may be. Names are just like that. Unless you're physically challenged and are unable to pronounce the S or the R or the L, then fine.

Dayus. Don't be. One minute you're in love and everything's so perfect you're practically hopping around throwing flowers everywhere. Next, you're a bitter son of a bitch, who never really said all those things, who really quite regrets the whole time spent together, who really wishes it never happen at all. Don't be like that. On top of making yourself look/sound like a total idiot, you lose your self-respect, your integrity. If something that seemed so real could be written off as nothing much (or nothing at all), who's to say you're friendships right now aren't just as hollow, should something happen? What are we, exactly? --who are we? The Way I See It, you take everything you've ever seen, heard, said and done, add to that everyone you've met and everything you know--that is who you are. Your past defines you. If you want to go around denying something, or indeed someone, ultimately you are denying a part of yourself. Sometimes we look back on ourselves and burn with embarrassment, or get filled with rage at the fact that we were once so stupid. That's good. It's good that we acknowledge our actions, our responsibilities.

I admit there is hardly any continuity in terms of sticking to the main topic. But in all honesty, I don't give a rat's ass about what you may think.

A Touching Farewell

2009-10-16T08:35:00.001-04:00

41 years to date (Kuala Kangsar – Prep School MCKK)

On the 4th January 1968
I meet this lad from Kelantan at the gate
Small of build, fair and Afro head?...
Hair not black like us but brown instead
His speech was eloquent In English so fluent.
A lad from Kelantan?
Where English was hardly spoken!
Friends we became
And the journey began
In school that bred A brotherhood of men
Off to England we then went
Student life all hell bent
Never for a minute did we falter
For us the challenge was itself an adventure
We returned with ideals and wanting change
But change came, to us instead
Little that we know what lie ahead
Family and fatherhood was laying in wait
As our children grew
Their lives entwined
Into the fabric that we designed
Now their lives and ours become one
For them, their journeys too had just begun
You did so much in short a time
Exceeded in every goals put on the line
You left a legacy for all to see
On every highway and roads we will remember thee
Now you left us with only memories
Your calling came so early
We will miss you in all we do
Until then my dearest friend adieu

(Al-Fatihah 1955 - 2009 – Dato’ Dr. Ramli Mohammad)

Azizan Pilus

Non-racist Racial Slur of the Day

2009-10-14T00:13:00.003-04:00

"I wont mention any race here, just to not be racist and all. But if you have B.O., use fuckin' deodorant if you're going to the gym. Or sweat at all. I once used up half a can of Axe on a bicycle after this I--this kid--used it. But it was still there so I just kept spraying all over him. He was lookin' at me like 'what the fuck, man?' but seriously--take a fuckin' shower, use deodorant."

-- You know who you are

Motivation

2009-10-07T22:37:00.003-04:00

"WHAT? You got a B? Bodoh ke apa? You don't work, you don't take care of anything or anyone; all you have to do is sit down every night and study, and yet you can get a B?"

"Susah, Ma."

"Jangan engkau nak bagi alasan bodoh. Hah. Beli kasut punya banyak, boleh. Nak get an A, cannot, apa pasal? You're lucky I'm not there. If I were, dah lama kau kena lempang dengan aku."

*snickers*

"Apa gelak? Hah? Bangang. Kau jangan nak main-main, Shazwan. Susah? Susah? Well you don't do anything else, do you?"

"Yes, that is true but..."

"Ahh, takde. You know what? Everyday you have, what, three classes?"

"Ha. Why?"

"I think you should wear a different pair of shoes to each class. Pagi-pagi, engkau pilih mana satu nak pakai--that makes you happy kan? Ha, so you wear la whatever you think is best for every class. Mana tau, being happier gets you good grades?"

"There is a curve, Ma. Almost everyone got between 80%-90%. Surely, dia curve the scores and my B just might be an A- if not a B+. Either way, my homework scores are good so that should pull me up."

"Hmph. Doesn't change the fact you got a B. You better do well. Bank Negara cakap apa? Do they monitor your grades?"

"Dia suruh grad with a 3.0."

"That's it? Hmm. But still. Engkau buat betul-betul lepas ni. Jangan nak mengada-ngada lagi dah. Nasib baik aku kat sini. If I were there aku lempang kau.....aku siat-siat kau."

Salah Sangka of the Day

2009-10-03T02:48:00.001-04:00

Shazwan Azizan says:
kekdg kau jujur
mcm status kau tu
"saya tak hensem"

Fadzril Zin says:
tu kau yg tulis!

Shazwan Azizan says:
HAHAHAHAHHAHAA
lama sial
2 bulan kot
hahahhahaha

Fadzril Zin says:
aku ingat kau ade kacau laptop aku

Shazwan Azizan says:
haah
time tu fb kau pun aku buat

Fadzril Zin says:
pastu aku mane ade bukak msn dh!
aku tau!!
babiiii

Shazwan Azizan says:
terus trash sign in dia punya semata2 nak komen
masa tu tgk land of the lost!
bahahahah

Fadzril Zin says:
tau
haha
yg status gay tu
fucked up sial korg

First CouchSurfing Experience

2009-10-02T22:19:00.003-04:00

If you've never heard of CouchSurfing.com, well it's a website where you search for (people's) couches/beds/floors to stay the night, instead of staying at a hostel or dorm or hotel. You sign up, and basically do the standard social networking site thing, except you also put up a description of what you have to offer--beds, sleeping bags, floor, couch, etc. I found out about this website when I was in Austin, Texas with Danial. Signing in at the Muséo Americano Smithsonian, we had quite a long talk with the guard manning the desk. He's a Vietnam vet, and had a peculiar interest in Muslims. Or "Moslems" as he says it. Anyway, from suicide bombers to malaria, the conversation somehow got to CouchSurfing and I checked it out as soon as I got back to Pittsburgh.

Three months later I got my first CouchSurf request. Three guys from Kansas City, Missouri are up for a drive, just because. His profile had some pretty good ratings, housemate gives the okay, so I thought "why not?". They drove to two other cities before Pittsburgh, CouchSurfing in each too. They had a red '91 Chevy Cavalier which they bought for $800. One of 'em said it made sense because they always travel together and the car only has three working doors. "Little Red", as they called it, proved an able vehicle.

When they arrived in Pittsburgh, I was pretty surprised (and a tad bit worried). At first glance, one guy looked pretty decent but had tattooed arms, another guy looked like the Big Show, the other guy looked like a stereotypical redneck. But they were all pretty nice people (if you can tell from all but a handshake and greeting). I brought them to Primanti Bros. for a sandwich they won't forget in quite a while. Big Show got excited. Despite being in a tiny car for hours, he was enthusiastic about it, and was telling us how he saw it on TV once. I don't think I've ever seen anyone unimpressed by a Primanti Bros. sandwich, and these three really enjoyed theirs. They told me about Arthur Bryants in St. Loius; apparently, that barbecue house just throws everything on a paper in a basket, and just roll it up and serve you. That does sound enticing.

They asked me what was great to do at night so I brought them up Mt. Washington. We couldn't take the incline because Big Show was afraid of heights (hahaha). This is the umpteenth time I take people on this guided tour of my adopted city and I just like how people are awe-struck by the view up there. We then drove to the North Shore to see the stadiums and get a look at the submarine USS Requin by the Carnegie Science Center. They kinda liked the South Side which we passed by earlier, so we headed there to bar hop. We settled at a place interestingly named 'The Bar' and they had a few drinks before we headed back. At my apartment, there was only one space available to park and the idiot in front wasted so much space so we had to go in and out nine times. It was amazing, really. Once snug inside the space, the car was actually half an inch from the car in front and less than three from the car behind. Respect.

They weren't exactly minimalist. Each had huge backpacks, one had Dell's version of the Toughbook with a Verizon 3G internet thingy, one was the official photographer. The laptop weighed what felt like ten pounds; it's "designed for an eight foot drop".

The next morning I had class, so I gave them directions to Pamela's for breakfast. As I finished class, they just got off the Just Ducky Tours just to see the city in the day, and were on their way to the Andy Warhol Museum. They wanted to meet up just to say thanks and grab a bite before they left for Cleveland. We drove to Squirrel Hill to get something akin to fried chicken and once we parked one of them smelled "something deep fried and delicious". We walked around trying to follow the smell, sniffing down one street after another, but then it started raining so we just went to Mineo's for pizza and cannoli.

What I guess I could take some good things from their short stay. Don't judge the book by the cover. You can never really tell this to yourself enough--people will always prove you wrong. Never assume anything. You never know what you'll end up doing, and with whom. Bar hopping, eighteen-point parallel parking, sniffing streets for the smell of something "deep fried and delicious". Sometimes it's nice having an injection of the unknown in your life. Things tend to be boring after you've settled into a rhythm or a routine, so rediscovering places with accompanying virgin eyes is really fun.

Already looking forward to my next Surfer.

Then & Now: Homework

2009-09-29T21:29:00.003-04:00

Form Five

"Shit, aku tak tau doh buat yang ni. In fact, semua yang second page tu la aku tak reti."
"Ah, burn ah. At least yang first tu siap kan?"
"Hmm, betul gak. Selamba."

College

"Hey, there's this question we can't do because we don't know how to use the software and someone said you did. Can you come over right now?"
"Um, I'm actually under quarantine because I got the swine flu."
"Oh, wow. But you see, there's seven of us here and none of us have any clue whatsoever on what the hell we're supposed to do. We've been at it for three hours."
"Yeah, if I get better tonight I'll take a look at what you guys have done..."
"But it's due tomorrow and you WON'T finish up by tonight. Seriously."
"Well, it's not like I can come over now."
"Look at it this way. Which do you fear more, dying of swine flu or getting a zero on the homework?"
"E-mail everything to me."

Fuck You Hippies

2009-09-26T13:11:00.001-04:00

In every household, its members break stuff. Intentionally, unintentionally--that's beside the point. Sometimes emotions flare and you act beyond your control. It's fine, really, because in the long run everything evens out--you live together for fuck's sake--so whatever happens at home, stays at home.

Say you run around carelessly and you hit a table a vase falls down breaks. Mak marah. Tapi marah kerana sayang. She told you off for a reason. Ohana.

But if some idiot waltzes into your home and breaks your shit, now that's just inexcusable, isn't it?

I know many may say it's hypocritical of us Pittsburghers to complain about outsiders rioting our streets when in the past eight months we ourselves did pretty much the same after both the Super Bowl and Stanley Cup wins. I'm not saying it should be allowed, and in no way am I saying it's the proper thing to do. But we won more than just a stupid game and a shiny trophy--we got the bragging rights. You can beat us next year and take the silverware from us, but that bragging right is something we'll never lose. It was an extremely stupid waste of resources, those riots: traffic lights were stolen, bus stops crushed to nothing, windows broken, furniture burned in the middle of intersections, cars tipped. I know this is very condescending but at least they did it to their own city, where they pay the local tax. If it's any consolation, they have/will make up for it with every penny they spend here.

The G20 comes to town and along with it a bunch of idiot hippies lounging about our streets, protesting whatever fears they have. Yes, I admit they have viable arguments, but why walk the streets with placards and build shacks on our campuses? Seriously, do something formal if you want your concerns to be creditable and receive proper attention. Setakat buat kecoh, melalak-lalak macam orang bodoh, what do you achieve? You face-off with cops and chant against them. You run around and throw shit everywhere. You damage a McDonald's (fine, an evil corporation as you idiots put it), you damage a Subway (fine) and then you damage Pamela's. Why? They serve pancakes. That's all they're guilty for. You disrupt the peace, block the roads, scare the people living here, hinder public transportation, and in my case, aku tak dapat pergi Strip District beli lengkuas, serai, kacang panjang, and tahu. I know the cops aren't all that innocent anyway, but judging by the way these protesters act--some of which don't even know what the fuck they're arguing about, they probably just think they're cool for being anti-establishment--memang patut pun kena tembak with rubber bullets and get sprayed with tear gas.

If someone's happy, he'll celebrate all he wants. Yes, he may go overboard and be a menace. But c'mon, if you won the lottery, you would jump like an idiot. You just can't isolate them to some predetermined "lepas geram" venue. But these rioters? What do they achieve? What did they achieve? In fact, what did they plan to achieve anyway? By convincing people that the corporations are evil, etc., etc., could they reverse whatever decisions or pledges those heads of state made during the summit? And on top of that, they really are not welcome in this town.

Not-So-Spontaneous Trip 2006: UTP

2009-09-24T15:36:00.001-04:00

I had a long day on July 31st. I visited the HR people at Bank Negara on that Monday morning and I had to race back to INTEC to make it for the 2.00p.m. class. That evening I thought 'alright, I'm gonna sleep and I'm gonna sleep real good'. Then Yap said he's at SACC. So he came over and we went out for dinner. There was me, Fadzrul, Nik, Yap, Sinchan and Tahn. We bypassed the temporary food stalls opposite Wet World sebab kononnya nak try tempat lain. Kecewa. After going round and round (and also around Shah Alam's many roundabouts), we ate there in the end. As usual, we had to go somewhere... Takkan balik terus kot? It was only 9.00p.m. by then. So Nik suggested SACC 'cause he wanted a card for his darling Sofia. The following day marked one year of their being together.

So we went and he haggled over what to buy and what to get and what to do. I got frustrated and asked "Pehal kau semangat sangat ni? Bukannya kau bleh bagi dia besok pun." Nik was anxious but then again, he was faced with the truth. It was true. She was in UTP in Tronoh. He was in INTEC in Shah Alam. Both had office-hour classes. Then the ambiguous idiot/brilliant me suggested, "Gi UTP besok, jom?"

He jumped at me with such enthusiasm I just had to shove him away. I told him fuel and toll would set us back around RM 150 for the round trip. I suggested Yap's Vios and Yap immediately got the mandate from his dad. I got mine from my mum and so did Nik from his dad.

The next day we looked forward to the trip. By 4.00pm we were back at Cendana ready to roll... but Nik had to 'look nice'. We left at a quarter to five and went in search of a florist; flowers to spice up the gift in the gigantic box.

(This has been left incomplete and unattended to since 2006. It is now 2009.)

I don't remember whether we bought anything from the florist or not.

I remember we arrived there around Maghrib, and went straight to the mosque. I was pretty impressed with UTP. Then again anything's better than INTEC. Anyway, the first face I see in the mosque: Arab (Azraf Ramlan). Clad in a shiny baju Melayu and a one of those nipple ketayaps to boot, he was just as surprised to see us. We then met up with Keano at one of the food courts and spied on Sofia. Nik was texting her and asked shit like "you makan dengan sapa?" and we looked from afar to see if she tells the truth or whether she'd let slip the odd white lie. After 15 minutes, Nik surprised her.

I remember Yap and I hanging out with Keano. Nik and Sofia went for a drive. Fadzrul met his schoolmate. Some time around 12AM, I decided we had to leave. After we sent Sofia back, I reversed the car and almost hit two African students. I swear I didn't see them. And that's not even me being racist. Anyway, we took a different (and very much longer) route back and according to my calculation, the trip would take us four hours. Given the green light by Yap, I went over the speed limit. He asked what the limit was. It was 60km/h. He asked how fast I was going. "Darab tiga". The Northern Corridor of the North-South Expressway is relatively empty after midnight--the road's all yours. Then we found the new Guthrie Expressway and Yap wanted to try 180km/h too.

We made it back to Shah Alam by 3.00AM. Slept a bit, balik bilik, then went to class as usual.

Twenty One Years and Three Days Ago, Today

2009-09-24T15:03:00.002-04:00

My brother Fariz was born 20th July 1985. This had a hell lot to do with my naming and my birth date. Three years and two months later - mid-September 1988 - I was due. The gynae was not there at Pantai Medical Centre so we had to go across town to Subang Jaya Medical Centre.

My mom initially wanted to give birth to me on the 20th. Just to get that 20th July, 20th September kinda thing... But then I didn't come out. Nope. Not in the morning. Not in the afternoon. Not evening. Not night either. The doctor gave my mom some whatever-the-fuck medicine which supposedly helps in getting stubborn, stuck fetuses out. One bottle is more than enough. She took two or three.

By 5.15 am on the morning of the 21st, I came out. No grand exits. The hours in labour gave my body a blue-black tone all over. Relatives thought the doctor or nurses slipped up with placing the babies in the incubators or whatever you might want to call the place where the hospital temporarily puts babies in. But nope, my mom saw what she gave birth to. And the doctor assured that in a week's time, I would be normal. True, that.

Fariz was born lunch time. And at the moment my mom was in labour, my dad was eating his lunch in Pantai's cafeteria. (Just to make it a point here, really out of the topic actually: Hospital food sucks!) So the nurse called my dad and his meal went to waste...

Hana, on the other hand, was born at 11.30pm. The labour and the rushing and what not made my parents miss their dinner. So as my mom settled in, my dad went out to grab a bite; only to get a phone call . . . and abandon his dinner.

No one missed/skipped/deserted meals in my case. Amazing, aren't I? Apart from that, I am the odd one out. Different hospital. I don't look like my siblings (they look so alike). I'm a little darker. I'm closer to my father (they side my mom; screw the sayangkan mak, then mak, then mak, then only bapak thingy).

Then came the name. My dad's dad insisted I had a Mohammad/Muhammad/Mohammed affixed so I'd get Prophet Muhammad's S.A.W. blessings. Then they all fought. Mohammad what? Again my grandfather stepped in. He drafted a calender and wrote down the Arabic characters in each day. Twenty-eight characters altogether (I guess), seven was a factor of 28 and so it filled in four weeks of the month (not too sure Gregorian or Hijrah). Somehow my birth date was on the letter 'Shin' and so it was agreed that my name begin with 'Sha'.

A couple of name books and inquiries later, they agreed to Mohammad Shazwan. However, when it came to filling my birth certificate, again they quarreled. Should it be 'Sy' or 'Sh'? I still don't know who sided which, but I'll be forever glad of the outcome. 'Sy', pronounced Sh in the Nusantara region, would never be understood elsewhere. International outlook, I guess. I hate that word, but it's true--anyone could read Shazwan as it is.

That's pretty much what they tell me.

Homework Can Be Fun!

2009-09-24T02:04:00.004-04:00

Shazwan Azizan says:
tadi tgh buat hw i tetiba ternyanyi lagu little mermaid "part of your world"
megan pandang and sengih

Dian Hikmah says:
suka la tu

Shazwan Azizan says:
cyrus marah gila: "Are you singing a little mermaid song?"
"yes. why?"
"the fuck is wrong wt you?"
"hey, you know it too so dont blame me"
"i'll blame you however the fuck i want!"
"but it's a nice song"
"get wit the program, shazwan. we are doing econ. screw little mermaid, and tell me how to get the minimum fuckin' SAC!"
(dia baik gila but bila tension mmg sgt pemurah dgn the f-word)
i told him la otw gi library my ipod was on shuffle

Dian Hikmah says:
is cyrus the one yang main lagu hannah montana tu

Shazwan Azizan says:
nope
cyrus is my TA for Alice
dia senior, double major econ+bio

Dian Hikmah says:
econ and BIO
thats sth you dont hear about every day

Shazwan Azizan says:
he suddenly dropped everything and told me and megan: "NEVER put itunes on shuffle when having sex. NEVER. there's even an xkcd about that."
"hahaha. what song was it?"
"YOU DONT WANT TO KNOW"

Dian Hikmah says:
I WANT TO KNOW
hahahaha

Shazwan Azizan says:
megan degil gila, hw dia selekeh mcm sial

Dian Hikmah says:
bodoh apasal tak buat playlist

Shazwan Azizan says:
i tegur la dia. takyah a cramped sgt, "use a new page, sassy"
(nickname dia sassy sbb last name sasinoski)
dia degil gila nak jugak tulis at some tiny space between parts b and c
pastu tengking i "NO I WONT USE A NEW PAGE"
then bila dia tgk my hw nak compare jwpn, "dammit why cant i be this neat?"
haih, perempuan

Dian Hikmah says:
yes you have just summed up the fairer race by that anecdote
hahaha

What Do You Read?

2009-09-22T22:40:00.006-04:00

Every morning I will read the front pages of Soccernet and Football365. The former is a great place for formal football (saw-kah) news and stats and to follow a game in real-time. They're run by ESPN so their website is pretty decent and intuitive to use. Everything's neatly done and easy to read. The latter, however, has a less skema flavor to it, with headlines less like news but more like how a friend would tell you how a game went/will go. Every day their forum and mailbox is full of the latest polemic, be they football-related or not. The brilliant thing about F365 is that it's British, I just love the language used. Words like 'tool' and 'twat' and 'berk' are found there--I like. Their section Mediawatch is an unbiased media gaff-police who would point out the weird, interesting, condescending, nonsensical news in the day's media, victimizing journalists, newspapers, websites and even themselves. You'll never find more independent media than that. Then there's also the occasional Lookalikes where football personalities are hilariously likened to familiar public figures. Their weekly "Winners & Losers" and "Numbers & Figures" and post- big-game "Rating & Slating" are always good reads for football fans. But in every piece they have, the people's comments always make up half the fun.

I use My Yahoo! as my homepage so I add headline widgets from Yahoo! News, BBC World Front Page, CNN, Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, and Malaysiakini's, Utusan's, The Star's and NST's national section, and Oddly Enough News by Reuters. Of course, I only read headlines unless they seem interesting enough. But also, I put in the daily Garfield just because I've been following the strip since I was seven. I had Dilbert and Baby Blues, but those widgets seem problematic.

And I simply can't leave out "America's Finest News Source". From "Ninja Parade Goes By Unseen" to Liechtenstein testing a hand-sized nuclear bomb, the folks at The Onion really are making something out of fake news. Imagine that. Sitting around making up bullshit stories and reporting it as if true. And earning a living. They even have a freaking ex-CNN journalist in their ranks. But what cracks me up the most is Clifford Baines, the never-before-seen host of 'In The Know'. In every episode, someone else covers for him because of some random cliché excuse, like "...who's at the airport, chasing the woman he loves".

Weekly, I'll get a dose of Foxtrot on My Yahoo! You gotta love Foxtrot. It's always got something to do with Star Wars or physics or math or technology. Most CS/math/physics professors put up strips of Foxtrot on their office doors; so be it if you liken me to them--it's fucking awesome.

Then there's Jeremy Clarkson's columns. One about a car he tested, and another one just him being the self-acclaimed "equal opportunity activist". I followed his car reviews way back in primary school, whenever NST's weekly Cars, Bikes, Trucks section would carry the column. As an ardent motorhead as a kid, I would read and re-read CBT until the next Sunday. I hated Clarkson back then. He'd blabber on about British politics or the world economy and somehow--somehow--link it to the car he drove. It didn't make sense to me. I wanna know about horsepower, not people power. But he actually makes sense. Electric cars, for instance. He makes the bold claim that only hypocrites drive electric cars. Because despite burning no fuel whatsoever, the cars still get their electricity from a wall outlet (which gets it from some powerplant which burns oil or coal or God knows what). The batteries are also shipped (not by a sailboat), as are it's other parts and accessories. So, really, the next time you see someone smugly driving an electric car, give the piece of shite the finger.

In the toilet, I'll read whatever novel or magazine or newspaper I can grab. I dare say that 20% of my lifetime reading has been done on the toilet seat. Lifetime. That includes textbooks and newspapers and reading assignments and novels. Twenty per cent is actually quite a lot. I remember I had two bouts of diarrhea in the first half of Spring 2008--I went to the toilet at least twice a day, sometimes four or five. At the end of that semester, I realized that in Weeks 1-8, I read seven books. In Weeks 9-16, I read four. And since reading makes you smarter, the conclusion I can take from all this is that semakin banyak saya berak, semakin cerdiklah saya.

You can say whatever the fuck you want about my reading habits, but I wouldn't have it any other way.

Quotes of the Week (And Then Some)

2009-09-21T14:04:00.008-04:00

"I'm sorry, what's the date today?"
-- Cheerleader sitting beside me on September 11th.

"kau dah 21.xyah lancap2 lg.sana free country.cari je partner.haha:-P.berkat bday kau manu mng. bagus2:-)"
-- You know who you are.

"Dan sebab ini lah maruah saya tercalar, sebab saya tahu dia akan masih ingat lagi warna, bentuk, pattern, brand dan SIZE coli yang saya TERtinggal dalam vannya selepas lawatan kami ke PD tempoh hari. Cis bedebah."
-- NJ telling the whole world what I had tried to keep secret. FWIW NJ, you don't need to know it to know they're respectable.

"I can't hook up with her. No way, she's my Pythagorian."
-- It's PLATONIC, you dumbass.

"Dulu masa kau tukar, masih senang lagi, so justified la aku gelakkan kau. Sekarang susah macam sial, so lain cerita."
-- Nik telling Shekha to not laugh at his decision to change majors.

"fuck...there are WAY too many Malays there."
-- Fariz on RIT's Raya celebrations.

"City-United wajib doh. Sembahyang Raya sunat je."
-- Danial (City 'Till I Die) Ariff

"Damn!"
-- Me, after seeing someone eat a quesadilla for lunch.
"DAMN!"
-- Me, after realizing it's not Puasa no more.

"Melayu suka (perempuan) muda."
-- Aunty Azidah

"In ten years you'll be 31, and financially stable. She'll be 18 by then. EIGHTEEN. Dah legal tuu!"
-- Kak Haniza speculating about me and someone's daughter.

"Ala, Akak dah malas dah nak melawa. In terms of looks, sekarang ni for his eyes only. Mata dia pulak bukannya cekap mana. Kalau pakai baju sama five days straight pun takpe. Tudung tukar la lain, brooch pun tukar. Dia dah anggap lain."

"haha ok at this point any phone is better than her phone"
-- Hafizah Omar on Dian's robust Nokia

"Dian, how can you actually misspell qwerty?"

"If Kanye stole the mic, can Taylor really be called Swift?"

Bring It On, Bitch

2009-09-15T21:47:00.005-04:00

Perhaps there is some truth to what people say about Junior Year and how hard it is and all that. Just like stereotypes, they're true for a bloody obvious reason. But is it overrated?

I arrived at Carnegie Mellon with 49 units of college credit from INTEC. That's about 16 credits. Mostly they were pointless courses which somehow made their way into my Gen Eds so I started Freshman Year with the optimism and ambition of completing all this bullshit a year early. But no. I won't have it that way. I want to wear that hideous gown the same summer my friends do. So I'll do the freakin' four years all the way. That's when the horrible thoughts of 'double major' crept into my head.

I was idealistic. Too idealistic. I was optimistic. Too optimistic. I was ambitious. Too ambitious. I thought I was good enough. I thought wrong.

Whether I took classes beyond my level or whether I simply wasn't good enough, is rather hard for me to say. A huge part of me would want to vehemently defend myself and argue for the former, citing the D in Comparative Politics in my first semester as one of many fuck-ups. Yet a tiny part of me couldn't help but refrain from lying to myself. I was fucked, yet I never tried playing safe and avoid taking risks.

Every semester I start with the semangat of something new, a fresh start, a new leaf perhaps. But all too quickly that flame burns out and everything else in a monotony of grumpy early mornings, class, half-hearted attempts at reading, and looking up classmates for answers that were beyond me. By the third week or so I become a freaking machine. I'm like clockwork. Not a rather good one, I must add. It was repetitive, gloomy and depressing. And that was only my first four semesters. The hardest four have yet to come.

Earlier today I sat in class and realized that it was Lecture 7. It's Week 4 already. And I must say I've been enjoying it. Sure, it's tougher. Sure, everything in the past two years are assumed to be known. And sure, the workload is of a much higher level and much more leceh. But never before have I thrived from the pressures and the strain of it all. In fact, only in Week 2 did it start to hit me that I was, indeed, in the dreaded Junior Year. And even then it was when someone asked me what year I was in.

On paper, I hate the very thought of staying up and doing work, losing precious hours of sleep. Thing is, no matter how I schedule my days, groups depend on the availability of everyone. So I end up having to procrastinate anyway. But that's fine. Because that means a six-hour homework marathon every Monday. It's not that bad, really. Initially I thought it'd only be three hours tops--and I dreaded that already--but in order for everyone to be on the same page for everything, every single problem, every single question.....that takes a hell lot of time.

So it was that I sat in the library café from 7:00PM to 1:00AM; having only a cinnamon roll and some new mocha coffee thing the new management offers for my buka puasa. Hardly burning the midnight oil, you might think. But I'll sleep all day the next day if I fail to get 7 or 8 hours of shut-eye. Anyway, when you have two very difficult problem sets that will strain and test your relationships with your friends endlessly--we will argue, fight, put someone in his/her place for a stupid mistake, then swallow our pride and ask him/her to teach us what we thought was wrong, calculate, recalculate, forget what we thought the others and then suddenly they get it but we don't--you tend to be on the edge of your seat. And bear in mind: six non-stop hours of sitting down, reading books and PDFs and comparing notes. I hated doing work with the outspoken ones. They'll be the first to tell you you're wrong. They'll ask too many questions. They'll always--always--have an explanation that's different than the convention. Perhaps because it's my day or because I am indeed brilliant or because the bittersweet experience brings us all closer or perhaps because of a compromise of them all, I suddenly enjoy these types. They make me work hard so I can be the smartass instead. Not exactly the purest of intentions, but the outcome is all I give a rat's ass about.

Never before have I been the one arranging and/or hosting homework groups. I used to just hole up in my room and start calling smart people if I get stumped. And in groups that include a fifth-year Senior, a Senior, about a dozen Juniors and a couple of Sophomores, simply standing out and actually contributing really empowers you. You feel respected. You feel admired. You feel like you have a purpose. You feel like there is indeed something right ticking inside your head, that you are deserving of your place. And that's before I include the part where I prove the smarter ones wrong and win arguments against them and tell them their logic doesn't make sense and have them admit they're wrong. Nothing makes you feel more useful or needed or appreciated than being on top and in control of your shit. Like whatever it is your purpose is on this Earth, you're actually fulfilling (some of) it--no matter how pointless or unimportant it may be.

In the summer, I lived like a king. Fine, a lesser-king. I had a car (minivan), no curfew, keys to the house, and lots of dosh. I did whatever I wanted to, however I pleased. I did feel a tad bit useless, and the thought of friends doing internships didn't quite help either. Then after two long months of pointless wastefulness, I returned here to find everything hit me in the face all at once. Puasa. Jetlag. Rising early. Doing your own dishes and laundry. Masak (fine, belum lagi, but still). Homework. It's not that I couldn't, I actually like some of 'em. But the thought of everything, as a way of life, now that's not very enticing.

Why do I suddenly feel--for lack of better words for the opposite of 'not in my skin'-- 'in my skin'? Perhaps it was the past that was horrible. Or perhaps I have matured and learned the patience and hardworking ways of someone in a menara gading. Was it me stupidly punching above my weight the past four semesters or is it a new lease of life? The former doesn't sound too feasible since, after all, it is Junior Year. I should be complaining and moaning and all of that instead. It could also be the respect you gain as an upperclassman--you're not some maverick Freshman or Junior yang tak sedar umur anymore. I have learned to love this place--albeit after a year-and-a-half--however, I think my paradoxical enthusiasm for something I have always dreaded has come about as an effect of my accepting my place in this world as of now.

I'm not 'a few months away from home' anymore. I'm not 'a few weeks from break' anymore.

Arabic 3? Industrial Organization? Programming with Alice? Advanced Microecon? Stats?

Bak datang a.

The Ajak-Ajak Ayam Problem

2009-09-07T04:14:00.002-04:00

"Weh kau kimak ahh. Memangla aku ajak-ajak ayam, tapi apasal kau kena bawak ayam kau sekali?"

- Anonymous

Misinterpret As You Wish

2009-09-05T03:21:00.009-04:00

[The following is an excerpt of a phone call. It only records what one person says on one end and not what he hears. The "----------" denotes the other party speaking.]

*Ring! Ring!*

Ha, apa dia?

----------

What? She died?! Maimunah died?! My Maimunah?

----------

Cemana dia boleh mati?

----------

She fell out the window? From the seventh floor apartment?

----------

How did she fall? Tergelincir pastu gedeboom jatuh? Don't our windows have screens? Cemana dia boleh jatuh through the screens?

----------
----------

Ada lubang? So she just crashed through and ripped it open wide, then?

----------
----------

Tingkap mana ni?

----------

So dia jatuh straight into the flower bed kat bawah tu?

----------

Yes but no? The hell does that mean?

----------
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There was some concrete there? So she fell all the way down and...splat?

----------

So hancur berkecai la dia? Oh, God. Mona. Sweet, sweet, Mona.

----------
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Eh, what's it to you asshole? I'm away for a few days and boom, she's gone. Gone forever. Entah-entah kau yang buat. You think I don't know what a bitter son of a bitch you are? You think I don't know how you smirk and get all dengki when you see me and her together? How you hate it when I sing "I Wanna Dance With Somebody" bila aku dengan dia?

----------

Diam! Aku tak habis cakap lagi! Masa aku webcam dengan dia, that time I did a Notting Hill, yang aku cakap "I'm only just a boy, standing in front of a girl, asking her to love him", kau ingat aku tak nampak kau buat muka palat kau kat belakang aku? I saw you on my screen, you piece of shit.

----------
----------
----------

Aku serkap jarang? Serkap jarang, you say? Well it's not really serkap jarang la kan if I have reason to be suspicious?

----------

Lepak? Relax? Kau ingat apa, aku ni Beyoncé ke, I can get another her in a minute? Even if I could, it won't be the same.

----------

"Easy come, easy go", kepala hangguk kau! Fine, it was.....easy come. Tapi dah lama kot aku dengan dia. Makan sekali, minum sekali, lepak sana-sini sekali, study pun sekali, aku gi tengok wayang pun dengan dia sekali, tidur pun kekadang dengan dia. She was even there once while I shat, you hear me? Mana nak ganti tiga tahun tu?

----------

Oh, I'm being dramatic? I'm overreacting? Kau tak rasa ke kau yang underreact?

----------
----------

Why do I care so much? Dia.....dia tak macam yang lain. She was.....special. Ha, gelak la kau.

----------

Apa kau tau?

----------

Well, if you really wanna know, dia lain daripada yang lain. The ones before her, well they were great, some of 'em. On paper, she may not seem like she's miles ahead of anyone else. But--think of it macam ni la. Yang lain-lain tu aku peluk, aku cium, aku jilat, takde sampai masuk hospital macam bila aku buat dengan Maimunah.

----------

Ha, gelak la kau, kimak. You don't know shit. Kau tu memang dasar takleh harap. Heartless prick. Harap pagar, pagar makan padi. Bodoh. Simple things macam ni pun takleh nak buat betul-betul. That's why you're so fucking miserable, you know.

----------
----------
----------
----------

At least I was happy. Can't say the same about yourself, can you?

----------
----------
----------
----------

Weh, kau jangan nak tukar topik boleh tak? Dia dah jatuh, apa kau buat? Kau pandang je pastu call aku?

----------

Thought so. Ada kau nak turun tengok apa jadi? No, kan?

----------

Thought so. Ahh, gi mampos. Why not you try being a fucking person for once? Try not being so bloody insensitive, boleh tak? Just because you don't give a shit, it doesn't mean other people don't give a shit, it doesn't mean I don't give a shit.

----------

"It is what it is"? "It's just that"? So, for instance, teddy bear kesayangan kau tu kalau aku bakar takpe la?

----------
----------

Well, bak kata engkau, "it is what it is", innit? It's just a freaking teddy: nothing more, nothing less. Kalau aku bakar pun, beli je la baru. Easy come, easy go, kan?

----------
----------
----------

Ha, tau pun what SAYANG means. Well, that's how I feel--felt, whatever--for Mona; but only a gazillion times more. That's why we did all that shit together. That's why I'd rather lepak with her. Because even though I get hurt sometimes--most times actually--and even though more often than not it's like talking to a bloody tunggul kayu, AKU SAYANG DIA.

----------
----------
----------
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----------

Ahh, don't start with your bunga bukan sekuntum bullshit. She's gone. Forever. Yes, I'll have to get over it... But how could you be so careless? Sure, that bunga bukan sekuntum crap might be true.

----------

No, really. I admit I believe in that. But why did you have to let this happen? Bunga memang berjuta, but aku suka kuntum yang ni. I know what all the wrinkles and creases on her petals look like. Out of a million flowers, I can picture in my head what this one looks like and how this one acts and laughs and billows in the wind.

----------
----------
----------

Tau pun benci when I speak in metaphors. Kau yang start.

----------
----------

*cries*
Cibai ah kau.

----------

So what kalau aku sebak pun?

----------
----------

Diam.

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----------

DIAM!

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SHUT! THE FUCK! UP!

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Arghh! Fine!

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Yes.

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Ya.

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YA! KAU BETUL! KAULAH SEGALANYA! PUAS HATI?

----------
----------
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----------

Yeah, well. I'm sorry, I guess. Kalau benda macam ni pun I can get so emotionally charged, benda lain kalau lagi teruk... Entahla.

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I dunno, man. The others were just...well they're just 'the others' to me now. She was--to me, she stood out in every sense of the word. I wouldn't have had it any other way. Kalau aku boleh buat segalanya all over again, I won't change a goddamn thing. If that means aku kena gi hospital sebab lidah berdarah-darah pun, aku tak kisah.

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Hmm, fine. Air bawah jambatan. Mona's just a cactus pun. But you still owe me one. Thanks. Sekian.

The Nonexistent Secret Diary of August 24 & 25 2009

2009-08-26T06:16:00.008-04:00

[The following are excerpts from the nonexistent and rather secret diary of the first two days of Fall 2009. It documents the first two days of my being a Junior, as well as every class I am registered for.]

Monday, August 24

It's 4:00AM. Nik knocks on the door but I'm already awake. Sahur. I make some toast and make a cheese sandwich. Mm, cheddar. Nik is on facebook. He has the internet. How? Cable kena potong and everybody's wifi is secure. Talipon dia AT&T, so ada 3G. Shit. T-Mobile janji 3G in Pittsburgh hujung tahun ni. Fine. Not that desperate pun. I think. Well, I hope I'm not. I eat slow and before I know it, it's time. Syabas, sayang. Tau pun puasa kat sini lagi lama and you only eat a measly sandwich. And you know you're jetlagged so you'll be awake the whole time you fast. Bagus.

It's 7:26AM and I wake up. I am 34 minutes quicker than my alarm clock. Or the clock is 34 minutes late. Useless piece of sh... - no. It's the jetlag isn't it? Well, yes...maybe. Class, class, class! ♫ ♬ It's been such a long time, I think I should be going. Time doesn't wait for me, it keeps on rollin' ♫ ♬ I jump into the shower. Cibai kia, body wash dah nak habis. Shampoo pulak ada orang tambah air. Bodoh. Bebal. Geram sial. I can feel the water flow down my face differently because I'm frowning. Berus gigi, berus gigi, berus gigi. Ahh, my darling electric berus. Oh, how I love that sensation of your whole jaw vibrating. Bzzt. Bzzt. Heee. Bzzt.

What time is class? 9:30? Don't know, don't care. I'll go early and use the interweb on campus. Hidup = taik, when you don't have the internet. What can a PC do without the net? Main Solitaire.....pish. I get dressed. Hmm, kasut mana gets the honor of Day One? Oh, fuck it, ambik je la yang ni. As I enter the elevator I choose a playlist on the iPod to temankan me for the 15 minutes or so to campus. I choose "macam jatuh cinta macam tu ♥". Dah lama tak dengar.

We were strangers starting out on a journey,
Never dreaming what we'd have to go through,
Now here we are and I'm certainly standing,
At the beginning with you.

'At The Beginning'. How apt. It's been two months since I've walked these streets but somehow I'm guided by pure instinct. How did I stop at the red light? Did I realize I turned the corner or was that done subconsciously? Whatever. In the elevator in CIC a woman clumsily spills some of her coffee and dengan gelabahnya presses the button. "Monday blues", she says with a laugh, "still in weekend mode." I tell her I've been off for two months doing absolutely nowt; "new term blues". She loses that 'kesianla aku' look and nods at me. We part, both exchanging "have a good one"s.

Ah, a PC. I check my e-mail. 22 new, 59 spam. The inbox-spam ratio is still near 1:3. Whoop-dee-doo. I read the news. I watch all five Man Utd goals against Wigan; hebat sial Berbatov, hebat sial Owen. I did the whole net registration thing for my darling talipon's wifi. Wee-fee. Hahahaha. "Do you have wee-fee?" like that guy in the hostel in Boston. Silly man. Hahaha. Scheduleman, scheduleman, scheduleman! Hmm, says here Arabic 3 starts at 10:30. Sejam lagi nak buat bodoh. I do up the whole calendar thing on my phone so for the next 16 weeks I get an alarm before every single class.

10:10AM and I'm the first in class.

Ooh baby do you know what that's worth,
Ooh Heaven is a place on Earth,
They say in heaven that love comes first,
We'll make heaven a place on Earth,
Ooh Heaven is a place on Earth.

A rather pretty girl walks in. She has bangs that don't seem manufactured. Is that even right? Lepak ah, you're only convincing yourself, bukannya ada orang check pun. Well it doesn't look fake, like someone drew them on there with a freaking Sharpie. Nampak...biasa. So biasa that it's pretty. Oh my, she has such beautiful blue eyes. Oh and those long, curled lashes. "Is this Arabic?" she asks. Finally, an American interested in Arabic! Asik North Africans, Arabs and Jews je. This is Arabic 3, she can't be a freshman. She doesn't look that old, though. Alah, beza setahun dua macamla banyak sangat. Kau diam. Apa kau tau? She's only started Arabic a year ago but she's already studied abroad in Morocco, Syria, Lebanon and Turkey. Oh, she's a junior. Transferred from community college from Kansas. Note to self: do not make lame Wizard of Oz/"Toto, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore!" jokes. Her name is Mackenzie. Pleased to meet you. *smile*

Modolu walks in and sits between us. Disturb leaf. Tapi at least ada kawan. No, that's being condescending. He's still a friend regardless where he sat. Takpe, lusa jumpa lagi. Ajak dia naik Mt. Washington, jom? Hmm. I've always wanted to try that ice cream parlor up there. Tapi puasa. Taik ah. Ah, here comes Ustaz Ethan. He had a bad week which culminated in both his dogs dying hours apart, he says. His tone and posture says it all and we're all sympathetic for the three of them. Eric Berryman comes in and speaks like a true Arab. His ع sounds so...authentic. Aku sebut pun tak sepekat tu. And his doesn't sound forced. And it was only two years ago I was helping him out with the al-Fatihah. He comes to shake my hand. What? You're the MSA Vice President? Daym. Everyone does the introductions. I can't speak for shit. I'm last so I plan to say something funny to lighten the mood. "Ana la as-habah fii Pittsburgh wa ana fi'lan wahid"; that's probably very wrong but we is all still speak breaken Arab. Hmm. That might work. My turn comes. For some reason I can't even say "I study in Carnegie Mellon" or even "Economics". Ethan thinks I'm very rusty so he ends the session after two sentences. Everyone else did at least four.

Modolu and I go and see the new Gates Building. Lawa gila babi, tapi no signage so everyone's lost. We go to the bookstore. There's a new mug design. Lawa. Biasanya hodoh, so I buy it. I check my campus mail and apparently that Visual Bookshelf survey thing on facebook which promised to send the novel 'Huge' was telling the truth. I got it free of charge.

Sukarnya 'tuk ku melupakan,
Sinar matamu yang menawan,
Terbayang-bayang tiap masa,
Senyumanmu menggoda,
Kehangatan terasa di jiwa,
'Tika kau lafaz kata cinta,
Nafas terhenti seketika,
Seakan sukar kupercaya,
Oo-wo-oh-oh-oh,
Ku juga mencintai dirimu,
Mengapa sukar kuluahkan,
Bukan sengaja kumenahan,
Bibir membeku, lidah terkelu,
Ku juga mencintai dirimu,
Kau amat sempurna buatku,
Bukan saja aku biarkan,
'Kan kuucap jua padamu.

12:30PM and it's time for Programming with Alice and Java. Professor tua, and she says it'll be an extremely slow class so opt for a higher level kalau bosan. I need the A, thank you very much. And yes, bosan gila but I can deal with it.

1:30PM and I'm free. Do I go home? Why not. Singgah bank jap. Takmau pegang cash banyak sangat. At home, I find an iklan for Comcast college specials cable. Immediate activation. I call and they said five minutes they'd be there. I hear a knock so I open the door. It's just the neighbor leaving. I close the door but he says something angrily. I open it again and he asks me "Why is it every time I get out, you people open the door?" I told him I'm expecting someone but he angrily says "Fine" and walks away. Anak dia bising, ketuk pintu macam orang gila, I don't complain. In fact most times, they knock so hard we think it's our door. Muka pun ketat gila. Boo.

I do the whole sign up thing. They say they can only offer 10 Mbps, six less than I had. Takde hal. Tomorrow I shall have the internet. Waiting. More than five hours to buka, and at least 24 more to TV and the net. I reformat the computer because my Windows is bisu and start installing everything that doesn't require the internet for activation or updates. Nik gets back from doing his SSN. We call the newbies and tell 'em let's meet up for buka. The plan was to meet at 7:45PM. I read, I sleep. I wake up past 8:00PM. We walk to Tandoor and meet the new kids. Kedai ni kasi nasi sikit gila tapi nasib baik kenyang. Aishah mistakenly bought a Chinese-made SciPhone from Ebay. I don't know whether to be amazed at how good they are at copying, or laugh at her for being ripped off. Perhaps silence is best. I am still jetlagged so I go to bed once I get back home.

Tuesday, August 23

It is 4:00AM and I'm up. Berlengas so I take a shower. It's late now so I make some toast and fry an egg. It's too panas, so I open a cup of yogurt. It's frozen pulak, so masuk microwave. I down a glass of lemon pomegranate juice which really tastes like serai. I finish up just in time. I try, but by 7:30AM I can't sleep anymore. I grab my phone and play Tetris. Can I break 60,000? I fail miserably twice. Today is the heaviest of all five days: three 90-minute seminars and one hour-long recitation. I read 'The Hours'. It's just so painful to read. Some genius decided to write about how Virginia Woolf's life affected the story line of her book 'Mrs. Dalloway', which in turn affected a reader's (Mrs. Brown) life. But he won an award and it became a movie starring Meryl Streep, Nicole Kidman and Julianne Moore. No. If I had bought it, I would have chucked it away a long time ago. Tapi ni Aunty Dayah yang bayarkan masa kat RIT. Kena baca sampai habis. It's the least I could do for her. I walk to class; iPod setia di sisi, sambung playlist semalam.

I realize the best part of love,
Is the thinnest slice,
And it don't count for much,
But I'm not letting go,
I believe there's too much to believe in,
So lift your eyes if you feel you can
Reach for a star and I'll show you a plan,
I figured it out,
What I needed was someone to show me,
[jeng jeng jeng jeng jeng]
You know you can't fool me,
I've been lovin' you too long,
It started so easy,
You want to carry on
(Carry on...)
Lost in love and I don't know much,
Was I thinkin' aloud,
Fell out of touch,
But I'm back on my feet
And eager to be what you wanted.

9:00AM and it's Advanced Micro. Megan walks in. I say hi and she waves back. Dia duduk depan. Dulu dia duduk belakang, kat sini. Ada kawan dia kot depan tu. No, dia duduk sorang. Cis. Professor walks in and talks about--what else?--economics. I don't know my shit. I struggle to integrate a simple function. Apparently junior year ni, you'll be applying all the sampah you learned in the past two years. Ah. Heavy weightage on finals. Taik.

10:20AM and I immediately head to the computer cluster for Alice recitation. Dia ajar cemana nak download and install. I am officially the second oldest person in this class. The oldest being some guy who is probably somebody's dad. Everyone else is either a freshman, sophomore or an over-achieving highschooler.

I have a half hour to kill so I lounge about outside the next classroom and check my e-mail.

Lookin' in your eyes,
I see a paradise,
This world that I found,
Is too good to be true,
Standin' here beside you,
Want so much to give you
This love in my heart
That I'm feelin' for you,
Let 'em say we're cray-zeh,
I don't care about that,
Put your hand in my hand,
Baby don't ever look back,
Let the world around us
Just fall apart,
Baby we can make it
If we're heart to heart,
And we can build this thing together,
Stand this storm forever,
Nothin's gonna stop us now,
And if this world runs outta lovers,
We'll still have each other,
Nothin's gonna stop us,
Nothin's gonna stop us now.

12PM and it's time for Industrial Organization. Professor's a Russian dude. He says it's "a.k.a Applied Microeconomics". Nice. Tak cukup ambik advanced, ambik applied pulak. Again, more maximization and calculus. Nak buat muka masam, nak nangis, nak Mama. But I found myself answering half his questions. Which could mean I do know my shit. No, can't be. This girl who was once the Econ Society VP was in the class. So was David. And a few other equally smart ones. Why aren't they saying jack shit? Ah, David said something. But still. Diorang je berkarat ke apa? But I should be safe with classmates macam ni; perhaps they're not into the groove yet. They'll come good. Outside, a sorority girl promotes Greek Life. A girl says to her, "Sorry, but I'm actually a guy." Bahahah! That made my day.

1:30PM and I'm applying for the same goddamned Telefund job. Paling senang masuk, konon. But it is, however, paling senang keluar. I don't need a job, I just need the SSN. This is the fourth time I filled in that wretched form. It is also the fourth supervisor I've met.

By 2:30PM I'm done so I walk around The Cut and look at posters and buy three. E-Cow-Nomics. Peter vs. The Giant Chicken. 50 Chuck Norris Facts. Did you know Chuck Norris could slam shut a revolving door? Or that the only way he shaves is by kicking himself in the face, because only Chuck Norris can cut Chuck Norris? There are second hand books. I buy 'Snow' by Orhan Pamuk. The seller is miffed because he wanted to read it, too. Siapa suruh jual, kalau nak baca? Baghal.

You gave me wings and made me fly,
You touched my hand, I can touch the sky,
I lost my faith you gave it back to me,
You said no star was out of reach,
You stood my me and I stood tall,
I had your love, I had it all,
I'm grateful for each day you gave me,
Maybe I don't know that much,
But I know this much is true,
I was blessed because I was,
Loved by you.
You were my strength when I was weak,
You were my my voice when I couldn't speak,
You were my eyes when I couldn't see,
You saw the best there was in me,
Lifted me up when I couldn't reach,
You gave me faith 'cause you believed,
I'm everything I am,
Because you loved me.

3:00PM and it's everybody's favorite class: Stats. The instructor (remember, he told us not to call him 'professor' because he isn't one) takes down our respective height, gender and continent data and tells us to hand in a three-page report. "About what?" just about everybody asks. "Whatever you can think of." Nice. Just nice, really. Cool girl with funky orange punk hair wants to eat an apple but is shy of the noise she'll make. We all cough every time she takes a bite. She laughs more than she chews. I walk home. PC boleh diupdate and diinstall macam-macam benda.

Don't go breakin' my heart,
I couldn't if I tried,
Honey, if I get restless,
Baby, you're not that kind,
Don't go breakin' my heart,
You take the weight off of me,
Honey when you knock on my door,
Oh, I gave you my key,
Woo-hoo, nobody knows it,
When I was down,
I was your clown,
Woo-hoo, nobody knows it,
Right from the start,
I gave you my heart,
Whoa-oh, I gave you my heart,
So don't go breakin' my heart,
I won't go breakin your heart,
Don't go breakin' my,
Don't go breakin' my,
Don't go breakin' my heart.

4:45PM and I'm home. The TV has a picture. But Nik says there's no internet. And we only got 6 Mbps. And it's registered under MOHANNA SHAZWON BINAZIZAN. Seriously, what the fuck is the point of filling out forms in block letters if they're gonna fuck it up by spelling it over the phone to another agent in their call center? We finally get it running. I get my first IM, "ha aku online dulu!" from Nik 36 minutes after he sent it. I had to download YM dulu, kan. I do the whole reverse process of backup. My IM chat archives, the 9 GB of songs, the whole toilet MP3 player thing. Most importantly my iTunes play count and playlists. I don't know why, but they mean the world to me. Took me months to make those playlists and edit every MP3's ID3 tag so that the artiste's name and album and song title are all spelled correctly. All 2,424 of 'em.

I lost track of time and it's now 7:45PM. We rush to the ICP for buka. Tak semeriah last year but anything free is just as good. No. That's condescending. People aren't giving as much as they used to. Maybe economy teruk? Or harga naik? I ask if the hot drink is coffee or tea. It's just too black and thick for tea, yet too brown for coffee. An old guy opens the lid, points to the thick black liquid inside and says it's obviously tea while he rolls his eyes. Obviously. I take a sip. Tea. The kind that gives you sembelit. We walk back home. I study Arabic a little as I do the laundry. Belum tiga hari dah kena basuh dua load. It rained in Newark and Philly when we were flying in. Cemana air hujan boleh masuk suitcase? Bengap. I try to stay up to fight the jetlag. By 1:00AM I give up.

Besok kelas Arab, heeee~

The Advancement of Human Stupidity: Clip-On Ties & Tube Tudungs

2009-08-09T07:11:00.006-04:00

I remember my first necktie. It was red and clip-on. I wore it when I was five because my grandfather received an award at the Istana Negara. But I was five, so paying good money for a necktie was pointless. Even if it was a once-in-a-lifetime thing.

Then I got into primary school where the prefects had to wear neckties. The standard-issue school ties had zips in them. It was already in a loop and you zipped it up the way your father would tidy up his own necktie. Mama laughed at it. Initially, I thought it was due to the silliness of faking it. But years on, I now know how it's more about the lack of genuineness. Think about it. How uncool is it if you're a Malay male and you can't ikat your own sampin? Perhaps 'uncool' isn't the right word. 'Inept', maybe?

Of course we the generation of today have so much more going on for us. There will always be something our parents did that we'd never be able to match. I for one envy my dad's knowledge of birds and trees; every once in a while he'd go "ooh, burung this" or "eh, dah lama tak nampak pokok that". Sure you can say they had so much free time back then, they had nothing better to do; kita sekarang lepak mall tengok wayang, diorang dulu-dulu panjat pokok. Or you might say they had to know all that because it might be poisonous or it may have remedial properties and they were in contact with 'em all. Sure we'll lose some of their prowess, but must we lose it all?

What separates us from the animals isn't just our ability to talk and make clothes and all that. It's so much more than that. Our hands and our heads have the ability for so much skill: we can build huge ships and intricate sculptures, we can paint and manipulate color, we can shape steel. So why are we letting this go? Perhaps my message here is best described by the Disney-Pixar movie Wall-E, where man lives with so much technology and inventions that make his life easier, that he has forgotten how to walk or grow food. Of course that is an extreme case, but there is such beauty in what our two hands could achieve, even if it's just a simple double Windsor tie knot. If we let our little creations do everything for us--and I mean literally everything--well...just watch Wall-E and you'll get what I mean: we'd be nothing more but useless blobs on electric wheelchair-cars (Toyota and Honda already have prototypes of these) buying everything off the internet and doing nothing all day because we have our wakils for everything, even tiny robots to suap us.

On a more skema note, it's what defines us--especially when it comes to something as culturally important as the sampin or tudung. But seriously, every girl has her own way of wearing it. Some loop it over her head, some just fold it in two and stick a brooch, some wrap it neatly around their neck, and then you have the tudung labuh... Anyway, these variations give us a sense of identity, it separates us from the gazillion others. Some men like a huge tie knot at their throats, some like 'em sleek and compact. It may seem like it's just small, feeble bullshit. But it isn't, is it?

I don't know about you, but when I look at a woman who wears one of those tube tudungs, I see laziness and a couldn't-care-less attitude. I don't care if they're cheap or if they have nice beadings or if they have those silly beaks at the top to retain its shape. Those beaks: they just show how she doesn't know/can't put on a tudung properly. The Way I See It, she's probably so bloody insecure about it, she'll take a peek at a mirror every five minutes to make sure it's curved nicely. Because she knows it'll go wrong.

What's so wrong about doing it yourself? Yes, the first few times you tie a necktie you'll have length issues (*snicker snicker*) because the thickness of the material will determine the size of the knot. And the same goes for the tudung or the sampin--almost none of them are alike. But in time, you'll get the bloody hang of it. I mean, does your dad have a 'thick ties' section and a 'thin ties' section so he'll know "Oh, this one kena kasi lebih sikit ekor dia"? No, kan? Pandai-pandai dia la ikat tie pagi-pagi buta sebelum dia gerak. It's a form of art, and in time your hands will know and you could even do it blindfolded.

See, the thing is, we're easily swayed by something that kononnya makes our lives easier. I'm not against it--oh, no, why go via B when you can go straight from A to C? But look at it this way: opening your laptop and googling the word 'oncologist' to find its meaning may seem easy; but you lose the romance of visiting a library (or your bookshelf) and browsing the pages of an actual dictionary or encyclopaedia. It's so impersonal. It's just business.

So please, chuck away your useless clip-on tie (and that bow-tie too, you jackass) and your sampin with the getah, zip and cangkuk and that stupid tudung thing you wear as you would a pair of socks. Learn how to use 'em or wear 'em. See the beauty in making it happen.

RIP GTi CMZ

2009-08-09T06:51:00.004-04:00

"Weh, apsal GTi kau takde logo Proton?"
"Aku buang."
"Apsal kau buang?"
"Sebab aku tak suka Proton."
"Dah tu apasal kau ganti Wira kau dengan GTi?"
"Sebab bapak aku ada duit nak beli GTi je."
"Cemana pulak dia ada duit beli Skyline cash?"
"Itu soalan yang sangat bagus."
"Bapak kau lagi sayang abang kau eh?"
"Tak. Aku anak kesayangan..."

-- Before we left Damansara Utama, around 4:00am, Sunday, 9th August 2009.

"Weh, kereta Popo kena curi! Pagi tadi aku bangun, nak balik Penang, tengok-tengok dah takde."
"Ada pondok guard betul-betul depan rumah dia tu pun boleh kena curi gak?"
"Ha'ah. Dahla Neo aku kat tepi kereta dia je. Mula-mula dia ingatkan bapak dia bawak. Tengok-tengok tak pun. Terus dia gi buat report polis."
"Kau kat mana ni?"
"Aku dah nak sampai Penang."
"Apasal kau bagitau aku? And apasal sekarang baru nak bagitau? Kau syak aku ke?"
"Entah."

-- Phone call by Nik at 1:45pm.

"tuhan syg aku dowh..tarik blk harta dunia so aku x riak..haha..skng aku x tau cane..nk g uia p0n x tau nk pakai ape..abg aku pakai perdana die..aku by foot jela kot.."

-- Text message at 3:15pm.

Laporan Terperinci Port Dickson 2009

2009-08-04T12:19:00.016-04:00

Bilangan peserta: 13+3
Perancang penempatan: Imi
Perancang logistik: Kimbu
Van Kimbu: Kimbu, NJ, Atrash, Bendol, Imi, Poke.
Perdana Popo: Popo, Tamtam, Sinchan, Yap.
Estima Farahyana: Farahyana, Ayesha.
Viva Elisha: Elisha, Nasya, Yue Keng.

31 Julai 2009

12:00pm - Atrash tiba di rumah Kimbu.

1:00pm - Kimbu dan Atrash menonton final Piala Audi (Manchester United vs. Bayern Munich) yang dirakam dengan Astro MAX.

1:35pm - Kimbu dan Atrash menunaikan solat Jumaat di Masjid Saidina Umar/Omar Al-Khattab, Bukit Damansara.

2:15pm - Kimbu dan Atrash pulang ke rumah Kimbu untuk mengambil pelekat road tax van yang baru sahaja siap dan diterima.

2:20pm - Atrash menelefon Bendol: "Weh kitorang tanak ambik kau," sambil Kimbu memandu ke KL Sentral untuk mengambil Bendol.

2:45pm - Bendol yang bodoh/sesat masuk dalam van.

3:00pm - Kimbu, Atrash dan Bendol menjamah nasi ayam di rumah Kimbu.

3:05pm - Komen Atrash tentang ketiadaan kicap tidak dilayan oleh tuan rumah serta ibunya walaupun ada kicap dalam almari.

3:20pm - Kimbu, Atrash dan Bendol bergegas ke Tesco Mutiara Damansara.

3:30pm - Tiba di Tesco. Koyot ditelefon tatkala terserempak restoran KFC. Membeli-belah.

3:50pm - Brader potong ayam (orang Kelantan) tak benarkan Kimbu beli lima ekor kerana Tesco mempunyai dasar "tiga ekor ayam sekeluarga". Atrash--yang kebetulannya bukan keluarga Kimbu--membeli dua ekor lagi.

4:00pm - Bendol salah pilih bawang dan dimarah Kimbu.

4:10pm - Atas nama menjimat wang, Atrash membeli sepeket biji lada hitam. Dia kata nanti dia hancurkan sendiri.

4:20pm - Bendol dan Atrash membeli dua kotak aiskrim dan sekotak strawberi untuk mereka sendiri, menggunakan wang yang dikumpul. Kehalalannya mungkin boleh dipertikaikan.

4:30pm - Bertolak dari Tesco.

4:40pm - Singgah di M&M Market kerana ibu Kimbu memesan mee kuning setelah Kimbu hampir pulang. Agak menyusahkan.

5:00pm - Tiba di rumah Kimbu; ayam dan kambing dimarinasi (Bendol cakap) dan ubi kentang dan telur direbus. Atrash membalut biji lada hitam dalam kertas dan menghancurkannya dengan pelbagai kasut di pintu rumah.

5:15pm - Popo, Yap, Tamtam dan Sinchan tiba.

5:45pm - Kerahan tenaga oleh Kimbu. Atrash dan Popo bertolak ke KL Sentral untuk mengambil Poke dan NJ.

6:15pm - Atrash silap jalan. Ubi kentang, telur dan mayonis dicampur menjadi potato salad.

6:30pm - Atrash, Popo, NJ dan Poke tiba di rumah Kimbu.

6:42pm - HRH Puteri Raja Imi mengeteks mengatakan bahawa dia tak boleh diambil pada jam 7.00pm dan kami harus mengambilnya pada jam 8:00pm pula.

6:45pm - Pai epal siap; semua menjamu selera. Popo tidak diberi sudu.

7:15pm - Semua bertolak.

7:27pm - Kimbu memasang lagu "Melaka Maju Jaya" pada iPodnya yang disambung pada radio van dan semua bernyanyi.

7:30pm - Penumpang van Kimbu menjamah buah strawberi dicelup aiskrim perisa strawberi dan vanila tanpa fikir dua kali kehalalannya. Kimbu makan suap.

8:00pm - Tiba di Plaza Tol Bangi. Ada tiga orang yang kelihatan seperti Imi, namun bukan dia. Mereka gelap dan bahu jalan terlalu gelap. Kimbu menelefon Imi yang berkata "tiga minit lagi".

8:02pm - Seorang perempuan gelap yang mempunyai side profile seakan-akan Imi, memandu Perodua Kancil berhenti di tepi van Kimbu.

8:03pm - Ternyata Imi tu penipu kerana masih belum sampai.

8:05pm - NJ berdiri atas kerusi setelah sunroof dibuka. Kimbu menekan minyak sedikit, lalu dengan pantasnya menekan brek. NJ jatuh tergolek.

8:09pm - Imi dengan segala bantal, selimut dan begnya akhirnya sampai. Semua bersalam-salaman dengan ibu bapanya.

8:15pm - Semua bertolak.

9:00pm - Van Kimbu mengisi minyak di Stesen Petronas, manakala Popo yang mempunyai Kad Shell mengisi minyak Perdananya di Stesen Shell. Sinchan kencing dan melambatkan rombongan selama beberapa minit.

9:30pm - Tiba di Cocobay Resort, Telok Kemang. Imi tak tahu apartmen mana yang disewanya. Imi terpaksa menggunakan kaedah trial and error. Nasib baik cubaan pertama dia betul. Kerana, jika tidak, kami semua pasti akan sangat marah. Kerana kami penat. Dan lapar. Dan dia pula lambat semasa di Bangi.

9:40pm - Farahyana dan Ayesha tiba.

9:45pm - Kereta dan van dipindah ke tepi kolam renang. Kerahan tenaga oleh Kimbu. Barang diangkut ke atas meja dan set barbeku dibuka.

10:00pm - Lampu kolam renang ditutup. Mat Yap memasang sebatang lilin di atas meja sambil mempromosikan mangga yang diberi ayahnya, Encik Ahmad Kamal Yeop.

10:05pm - Imi cuba mengupas mangga yang dibawa Mat Yap dengan sebilah butter knife. Kimbu memakan sebiji mangga tanpa mengupas. Farahyana cuba membantu Imi. Abang-abang muzzle (seperti sebutan 'muscle' Drs. Zulkefli Johar) Bendol, Poke dan Sinchan memulakan api ataupun bara, mereka pun tidak pasti. Mereka mengipas api tanpa henti.

10:30pm - Daging yang dianggap hilang sebenarnya terletak dalam cooler yang dijadikan kerusi oleh Poke. Arang dalam satu set barbeku sudah menyala. Ayesha serta Tamtam bantu mengipas. Ayam mula dipanggang. NJ dan Farahyana mengedarkan Super Ring dan potato salad.

10:45pm - Sinchan yang sudah bosan menyediakan minuman pula. Popo keluar ke 7-Eleven dengan niat membeli pisau.

10:50pm - Farahyana bergayut telefon.

11:00pm - Ayam mula dimakan oleh Food Testing Committee. Kebanyakannya tidak masak kerana gelap, namun Ayesha berkata "it tastes like KFC!" yang amat membanggakan orang yang memarinasikan ayam. Set barbeku kedua siap. Kambing mula dipanggang.

11:25pm - Set ketiga siap. Setelah sotong mula dibakar, NJ mengatakan bahawa Kimbu sangat bodoh kerana tidak membasuh segala lendir-lendir sotong. NJ, Ayesha dan Poke masuk apartmen untuk membasuh sotong.

11:40pm - Sosej mula siap. Roti hot dog dibuka dan hot dog mula dimakan dalam gelap. Farahyana mengatakan bahawa itulah kali pertama dia merasa sos Lingam's dan dia sangat tertarik dengan keenakannya. Dia digelak ramai kerana sudah 20 tahun hidup baru nak merasa. Alasan Farahyana adalah "kalau aku beli keropok, aku makan dengan sos keropok yang makcik tu bagi la". Kimbu menganggap alasannya itu tidak kukuh, ataupun bullshit semata-mata. Farahyana sambung makan hot dognya itu.

1 Ogos 2009

12:00am - Mat Yap muncul entah dari mana lalu mengatakan bahawa "orang yang pasang lilin kat meja tu bijak gila syial".

12:05pm - Setelah lima minit tidak diendah, Mat Yap memakan mangga yang diberi bapanya. Bendol membuka baju, seperti ingin terjun dalam kolam renang. Atrash juga buka bajunya namun ditolak masuk oleh Bendol yang sangat keji perangainya.

12:15am - Hampir semua ayam yang siap dikembalikan kerana tidak masak.

12:20am - Mat Yap muncul dengan satu idea yang bijak: menggunakan lampu flash telefon bimbit BlackBerry Pearlnya untuk menyulah daging-daging yang dipanggang.

12:30am - Kipas RM1 patah dan tidak boleh diharapkan lagi; pinggan kertas digunakan. Ayam dan kambing mula siap dan semua mula makan.

12:45am - NJ, Ayesha dan Poke pulang dengan sotong yang sudah dibasuh dengan terlalu bersih. "Sekarang siapa yang bodoh?" kata Kimbu kepada NJ. NJ cemas, dan dengan cepatnya menyalahkan Ayesha dan Poke juga. Siapa makan cili, dia rasa pedas.

1:00am - Sinchan meminta sekeping kambing yang dimasak secara "well done". Beliau mengechop kepingan dagingnya dengan menabur sos cili Lingam's.

1:10am - Yap dimaki ramai kerana menyuluh benda lain.

1:25am - Kepingan kambing Sinchan siap masak. Walau bagaimanapun, kepingan itu terjatuh apabila Kimbu tersalah letak ia pada pinggan kertas Sinchan yang sudah layu. Manusia merancang, tuhan menentukan. Namun begitu, kepingan itu hanya jatuh atas lantai selama dua atau tiga saat, jadi ia patut selamat dimakan.

1:27am - Sinchan kembali dengan kepingan kambingnya dengan alasan "five more minutes".

1:35am - Sinchan akhirnya memakan daging kambing itu. Imi baring di atas sebuah bangku di seberang kolam renang. Kimbu tanya "apasal dia kerek?" lalu Ayesha mengatakan bahawa dia tidak sihat.

1:45am - Mat Yap mendukung Imi ke dalam apartmen. Keadaan agak cemas. Popo sekali lagi keluar ke 7-Eleven membeli air cap badak/cap tiga kaki, Ribena, serta kad pakau. NJ tumpang sekaki.

1:48am - Kimbu masuk bilik Imi dengan memakai tualanya sebagai tudung. Imi tidak tercuit hati lalu membuat muka masam.

1:50am - Kimbu, Sinchan, Bendol, Atrash dan Yap mengemas. Sambil mereka mengangkut pelbagai barang masakan, makanan dan harta peribadi ke dalam apartmen, serta membuang sampah, kedengaran suara Imi bergelak ketawa di dalam biliknya. Sinchan bertanya "kenapa lelaki yang buat housework?" Entah siapa yang menjawab, "Perempuan zaman sekarang semua useless." Sampai sekarang, dia enggan mengaku identitinya.

2:15am - Siap mengemas. Sinchan dan Kimbu berenang.

2:20am - Popo dan NJ pulang. Kimbu main-main mayat terapung dalam kolam.

2:25am - Bendol dengan tidak sengajanya memecahkan benda plastik di tepi kolam renang. Dia menjerit seperti seorang bapok tua dan lompatan 'canonball'nya tidak menjadi. Atrash terjun juga. Tamtam terjun dalam baby pool lalu sakit kaki kerana kolam itu terlalu cetek. Akalnya juga sama cetek.

2:35am - Semua masuk apartmen.

2:45am - Kimbu, Ayesha, Popo dan seorang lagi yang sememangnya bukan Poke (mungkin Tamtam) bermain pakau di atas selimut yang dibentang Poke sebagai tempat tidurnya.

2:46am - Poke marah. "Bro, gua mau tido bro! Ini tempat gua, bro!" katanya.

2:50am - Kimbu kalah dengan hinanya tetapi dengan cekapnya memulakan pusingan baru supaya tidak diganti orang lain.

2:51am - Poke marah lagi. "Weh aku nak tido la! Korang saje kan?" katanya.

3:07am - Ayesha memujuk Poke bermain satu pusingan terakhir. Tamtam berkata "Boleh je main kat tempat lain. Tapi malas a nak gerak." Semua angguk bersetuju. Poke marah lagi.

3:12am - Ayesha kalah. Semua beredar. Poke tidur.

3:25am - NJ, Sinchan, Atrash, Popo, Bendol memulakan 'Chamber of Secrets'. Rahsia mereka tidak diketahui lain kecuali sesiapa saja yang keluar-masuk sesuka hati.

3:45am - Semua keluar ke pantai. Setibanya di sana, yang perempuan bergambar dan yang lelaki berjalan-jalan.

4:00am - Sinchan kencing ke dalam laut.

4:10am - Perbualan yang amat baik bertukar menjadi amat kotor.

4:35am - Kimbu memulakan muka pasirnya. Farahyana sangat berminat.

5:00am - Bendol memberi puntung rokok sebagai finishing touch muka tersebut. Kimbu bergambar bersama hasil seninya. Poke berkata "Tinggal je la kau kat sini. Besok kita datang balik bila kau dah siap." Kimbu tanya balik "Kau balik apartmen cemana, Poke?" Apek tersebut terkedu lalu diam setelah sedar akan tempatnya.

5:20am - Tiba di apartmen.

5:35am - Semua tidur.

9:00am - Mungkin Imi bangun.

9:30am - Semua bangun kecuali Yap dan Sinchan.

10:23am - Kimbu menetapkan alarm telefon bimbitnya pada pukul 10:24am dan meletaknya di tepi Sinchan.

10:24am - Lagu 'Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go' dimainkan oleh alarm telefon bimbit Kimbu. Sinchan bangun.

10:30am - Semua meratah makanan semalam yang dipanaskan dalam toaster oven.

10:45am - Semua bergegas ke pantai awam "yang kat tepi Telekom Malaysia punya resort tu".

11:00am - Tiba di Pantai Telok Kemang 2.

11:15am - Lelaki bermain ragbi sentuh. Bendol tidak try kerana disentuh Kimbu. Namun dia dapat juga satu try selepas itu.

11:20am - Seorang brader banana boat mempromosikan harganya pada NJ dan Ayesha.

11:25am - Farahyana memutuskan niatnya menaiki banana boat kerana takut jatuh. Dia menawarkan dirinya menjaga beg tangan serta harta peribadi kami yang lain. Popo membeli tikar RM10 sebagai lapik/tempat duduk kami.

11:30pm - Semua kecuali Yap (pengecut), Tamtam (bacul) dan Farahyana (hati mulia) menaiki banana boat.

11:45pm-12:15pm - [What happened on the banana boat stays on the banana boat. Also, what happened when we fell off the banana boat remains...um...when we fell off the banana boat.]

12:20pm - Semua mengadu nasib/bertukar cerita tentang apa yang berlaku ketika menaiki banana boat. Yap, Farahyana dan Tamtam gelak dan ketawa seperti faham namun semestinya mereka tidak tahu apa yang kami katakan kerana mereka tidak melihatnya, apatah lagi merasainya ataupun mengalaminya.

12:40pm - Seorang penjual aiskrim datang. Hampir semua membeli aiskrim Split. Yap yang mencari Rutbir pulang dengan tangan kosong.

1:00pm - Semua mandi laut kecuali Farahyana dengan alasannya yang pelbagai. Bola ragbi kecil dibaling tepat ke sesiapa saja yang dianggap harus kena.

1:15pm - Hujan. Beberapa orang memaki/mengumpat Sarah yang dengki mendoakan hujan.

2:00pm - Hujan mula reda. Kami menyewa sebuah pelampung dan Bendol mendukung Farahyana kedalamnya. Imi dan Ayesha menolak Farahyana ke kawasan dalam. Farahyana dibiarkan hanyut.

2:15pm - Seorang lelaki botak, seorang lelaki kurang botak, dan isteri-isteri atau teman-teman mereka makin menghampiri kami.

2:20pm - Setelah kami beredar, mereka menghampiri lagi. Ayesha tanya "are they coming towards me and Imi?" NJ pula mengemukakan teori bahawa mereka mungkin Badan Pencegah Rasuah (Maksiat) dan ingin mengkantoikan kami.

2:45pm - Elisha, temannya Yue Keng, dan Nasya tiba. Kami semua menjamah nasi lemak dan mee goreng. Sinchan minum teh O. Kimbu tanya Sinchan, "Weh apa mak cik tu buat?" dan curi minum seteguk tehnya itu apabila Sinchan pusing. Kimbu menyesal kerana teh itu masih agak panas. Sinchan tersenyum dengan mukanya yang palat.

3:00pm - Nasya mengumumkan bahawa dia akan berlepas ke Melbourne dalam masa 10 hari untuk melanjutkan pelajarannya dengan mengambil ijazah Perdagangan Antarabangsa.

3:05pm - Kimbu, Imi dan Popo pergi ke tandas awam.

3:07pm - Imi dan Popo singgah di gerai cermin mata hitam.

3:10pm - Tiga-tiga ke tandas. Bayaran 50 Sen sekepala dibelanja Imi, satu-satunya yang membawa dompet ke tandas.

3:15pm - Popo dan Kimbu melihat seorang perempuan bogel meraba-raba punggungnya. Kata Kimbu "Damn, baru 5 tahun dah macam tu". Popo berkata "I'd tap that".

3:17pm - Tiga-tiga pulang ke tapak asal.

3:20pm - Sinchan sudah memakai baju-T Port Dickson.

3:30pm - Semua pulang ke apartmen. Akhbar The Star yang dibeli Yue Keng diedar sebagai lapik untuk para punggung yang basah. Popo hilang kunci keretanya. Bodoh. Harap bapak je dato'. Anak useless. Kunci kereta pun boleh hilang. Wtf Popo?

3:45pm - Tiba di apartmen. Kimbu, Atrash, NJ, Popo, Imi dan Poke berendam di kolam renang. Sinchan tidur. Yang lain memakan kuaci di dalam apartmen.

3:50pm - Elisha dicampak masuk.

4:00pm - Nasya berjaya elak dicampak masuk dan terjun sendiri. Namun begitu setelah keluar, dia ditangkap dan dicampak juga.

4:10pm - Van Farahyana tiba. Bergambar sebelum berpisah; hanya Tamtam tiada kerana menggunakan tandas.

4:15pm - Farahyana pulang. Di dalam apartmen, permainan judi bermula. Menurut komen-komen gambar di facebook, Ayesha selaku banker kalah teruk. Poke tidur.

4:30pm - Popo berkata dia boleh lakukan sesuatu yang istimewa. "Aku boleh duduk bersila," katanya. Kami semua bertepuk tangan. Mungkin Popo ingin berkata dia boleh duduk bersila dalam air, tapi tiada siapa ambil peduli.

4:35pm - Siku Popo terlanggar benteng kolam renang, lalu Popo menjerit "Ahhh, lutut!" Kami semua gelakkan kebodohannya itu.

4:40pm - Imi tiba-tiba marah akan Bendol. Kononnya Bendol kentut diam-diam dalam kolam renang. Menurut kata Bendol, baunya amat "padu" setelah gelembung gas tiba di permukaan air.

5:00pm - Semua masuk ke apartmen dan mandi. Bendol dan Popo mandi bersama sambil membincangkan jenis susuk badan. Elisha pula menjemur seluar dalamnya dengan berdiri di hadapan kipas.

6:00pm - Berkemas.

6:15pm - Bergambar di luar apartmen; semua berdiri di belakang van Kimbu manakala Kimbu berdiri dalam van, terkeluar dari sunroof. Bendol turut serta.

6:30pm - Bergerak ke Restoran Sheriff.

6:40pm - Restoran tidak menyediakan makan malam. Restoran seberang jalan dikatakan "sangat sedap".

6:45pm - Semua ke restoran seberang. Kimbu pergi ke pasar malam yang kebetulannya pada baru bermula, untuk membeli sehelai baju-T baru. Ia bewarna kuning.

6:55pm - Imi teringat bahawa dia tertinggal makanan di dalam toaster oven. Dia pulang ke apartmen dengan kereta Elisha, ditemani Atrash. Nasya merungut tentang bilangan nyamuk. Apabila Kimbu menasihati dia bahawa nyamuk tidak suka akan asap, Nasya berkata "Haa, tu la, aku nak hisap nyamuk". Mungkin dia ingin berkata "hisap rokok". Who knows?

6:56pm - Nasya menghisap rokok dan mengasap kakinya dari peha ke buku lali. Elisha turut ingin kakinya diasap. Nasya bercangkung di celah kangkang Elisha dan menghembus asap.

7:15pm - Makan setelah Imi dan Atrash pulang. Tom yam agak sedap.

8:45pm - Bertolak dari Port Dickson. Nasya, yang ternyata merindui Barbie, kesayangannya berkata "Eh, tak sempat cakap bye kat Kimbi!"

9:10pm - Penumpang van Kimbu iaitu Imi, NJ, Bendol dan Poke menyanyi lagu 'Centuria' yang dipasang pada iPod. Atrash diseksa sepanjang tujuh minit lebih di mana rakan-rakannya membuat bunyi-bunyi euphonium, french horn, biola, seruling dan seumpamanya.

9:30pm - Tiba di rumah Imi.

9:35pm - Setelah bersalam-salaman dan berpeluk-pelukan, Imi membawa segala hartanya masuk rumah namun menyuruh kami menunggunya. Kami tunggu.

9:40pm - Imi keluar. Kami tanya "Ada apa kau suruh tunggu?" namun memang tiada apa pun. Lima minit terbazir begitu saja. Bendol pindah ke kereta Popo. Atrash memandu van Kimbu kerana Kimbu penat.

9:49pm - Bendol menelefon Kimbu. Kononnya, jeans yang dipakai Bendol tertinggal dalam van Kimbu.

9:51pm - Selepas membayar tol Lebuhraya Kajang SILK, Atrash dan Popo memandu kenderaan masing-masing bersebelahan sambil Kimbu memulangkan jeans hodoh tersebut kepada Bendol.

11:00pm - Tiba di LDP di mana Popo menuju ke arah rumahnya di SS3. Atrash memandu terus ke MRR2, dan terus ke rumahnya di Taman Ehsan.

11:15pm - Tiba di rumah Atrash. Kimbu kembali ke MRR2 ke arah Batu Caves untuk menghantar Poke ke Taman Sri Gombak.

11:25pm - Tiba di Taman Sri Gombak. Poke dan Kimbu mengumpat Nik yang bodoh kerana pada tahun lepas tidak sedar akan sekolah yang begitu besar.

11:30pm - Tiba di rumah Poke.

11:35pm - Terlepas jalan masuk Lebuhraya DUKE kerana Poke silap kasi arahan.

11:51pm - Kimbu hantar NJ ke rumahnya.

11:54pm - Kimbu tiba di rumahnya.

11:56pm - Kimbu terjumpa barang NJ yang tertinggal dalam vannya.

11:58pm - Kimbu mengeteks NJ tentang barangnya itu.

11:59pm - NJ mengesahkan bahawa barang itu kepunyaannya dan Kimbu menyuruhnya datang keesokan harinya untuk mengambilnya balik.

2 Ogos 2009

12:02am - NJ menyuruh Kimbu supaya jangan kasi sesiapa nampak barang tersebut kerana dia malu tentang apa yang orang akan fikir tentang waktu singkat kami semua di Port Dickson.

2:00am - Kimbu tidur.

11:49am - NJ mengeteks Kimbu untuk tanya sama ada dia sudah bangun atau belum. Kimbu menyuruhnya datang terus.

12:06pm - NJ datang mengambil barangnya.

Tamat.

Private Hospitals 1 - 0 Government Hospitals

2009-08-02T06:19:00.003-04:00

After a pretty intense 24 hours that included grocery shopping, picking up and sending home friends, cooking and marinading and barbecuing, managing a troupe of 12, driving to and from Port Dickson, a banana boat ride, swimming in the rain, getting hit in the face by a mini rugby ball countless times, and singing our hearts out during the drive, I have got myself the flu.

If we all started to oink or chirp if we had the swine flu or bird flu respectively, then it won't take a genius to know of which kind of flu am I suffering from. So, to be safe--since we are under a Phase 5 WHO alert anyway--I headed to the place for swine flu in Malaysia: Hospital Sungai Buloh.

Lotsa people. Everywhere. Sitting around. Waiting. Registration counter had lotsa forms. Many. Too many.

Then there was a notice:

Hanya pesakit yang mengalami simptom berikut sahaja akan dihantar untuk ujian virus H1N1:
Demam melebihi 38°C
Batuk
Sawan

"Let's go to Damansara Specialist instead. Faster. Orang tak ramai. Tak payah tunggu lama-lama," said Papa.

Siapa Yang Bodoh?

2009-07-27T01:47:00.003-04:00

There are two laptops in front of me: a four year old wheezing, kipas terketar-ketar sebab skru longgar, hard-disk melalak, panas macam sial Acer Aspire 5672 and a sluggish Acer Aspire One. Both are connected to the interweb via an Apple AirPort wifi router, which in turn is connected to a Streamyx modem. So when the internet is choppy, it's the folks at Telekom who should be rejam-ed; when the laptops have problems connecting to the network, it's Steve Jobs' fledglings who should be sula-ed.

This morning, facebook was unavailable. I can see "4 new notifications" but after clicking it forever minutes ago it still hasn't loaded. So I tried the other laptop and that also won't load. Maybe the internet is down? Maybe an underwater cable went kaput like in Taiwan a few years back? So I try my phone, on Maxis 3G, and I was done replying all four wall posts in a little over five minutes. Sure, mobile client servers may differ from that of PC clients, but if the PC server went bust, there would be an international outcry and it'd be all over the news and people would have ridiculous apocalyptic statuses via facebook Mobile. And besides, if I could read everything perfectly fine through my phone, that has to mean: 1) their mobile servers are fine; and 2) their data storage is A-OK.

So I take the laptop and try a Malaysian website. I tried Streamyx's home. That took ages but it was loadable. Then I did the Streamyx speed test (which I must say is probably 200% biased and 300% programmed by liars) and was told my laptop did 3.3 Mbps downloading and 349 kbps uploading. As they told that me that with a straight face, uTorrent's graph shows my download of Top Gear (with 7,000+ seeders) has been fluctuating between 0.2 kbps and 2.6 kbps. I tried Speedtest.com and Penang and Singapore servers returned similar results. Wow. But you see, facebook, YouTube, Yahoo!, Google, anything worth your time--they are all based in America. So I tried a DC server and then an LA server: 0.3 Mbps down, 0.15 Mbps up. That is horribly slow since we pay pretty good money for 4.0 Mbps but that's still a damn sight faster than dialup or even ISDN.

So what is the problem? Or where is it located? I think facebook has no problems. Maxis takde hal--their 3G network at least, can't say much about their landlines. So if you were a (whatever it is the penjodoh bilangan for data in a cable is) travelling from the facebook server, you get into the submarine cables and go all the way across the world and get to Malaysia. Then, depending on your ISP, you are directed to their servers and then bounced to your ultimate destination. I could be wrong. In fact I could be very wrong. But Maxis can do it on a phone. Two dual-core laptops can't even load jack shit.

Yet, I could blog. I can't read The Onion or read how The US got battered 5-0 by Mexico in the Gold Cup final. But I can check my mail on Yahoo! and stay signed in to MSN, AIM and Yahoo! on Meebo. So if Streamyx's cables are fucked, I shouldn't be able to do anything at all. Besides, sometimes I can download up to 100 kbps either directly from a website (like downloading Firefox) and sometimes on uTorrent.

Thus I can only summarise that on this end, the internet here is flawed. Either ada cable pecah or kena gigit tupai or kena langgar rempit. Salah siapa? I'd very much like to say: "Streamyx! TM Net! No wonder their mascot's a fucking hippo! Lembab macam kimak!" But then again they are only the ISP. They probably don't own the cables. Yet they should be a fuck of a lot more responsible to their paying customers. Especially if they pride themselves on being the leader in the internet revolution in Malaysia.

So at this moment, siapa yang bodoh? I still am inclined to say "Streamyx". However, everyone else is just as bad. The shit you hear about Maxis broadband is just as bad. Jaring has no ads so they probably don't make money which must mean they're shit. P1 WIMAX offers 10 Mbps (ten!) but you're only allowed 10 Gb of upload and download in a month. That's like giving you a Ferrari.....in a parking lot.....with only one litre of petrol. And they promise you average top speeds are between 1 Mbps to 3 Mbps.....so it's probably not a Ferrari anyway.

My sole purpose of writing this ada satu je: Nak tau siapa yang bodoh, isolate him/her/it for blame and ajak orang ramai kutuk and maki hamun dia.

The fact that not many are making noise about it, setakat complain on their facebook/MSN statuses je--"Streamyx babi!!!"--well, that is pretty sad. It's not like Malaysians don't go abroad and see what it's like out there, what a few Ringgit or Dollars could buy you. Same goes for the LRT/KTM/KL Monorel/KL Sentral. Why can't they just share stations? Why do we have to cross the street at Masjid Jamek to change lines? Why does the Monorel's KL Sentral station stop one street short of KL Sentral proper? You have to get out of the Monorel station, cross Jalan Tun Sambanthan, cross Sentral's parking lot and its dusty and smoky bus stop, go up an escalator and even then you're still outside Sentral.

Million Ringgit government urban-planning trips to world-renowned cities--what the fuck have they learnt? Or have they just been enjoying themselves at the expense of taxpayers' cash? Nak enjoy tu understandable la, but even if you didn't do your job at all, and didn't even take any fucking notes or pictures, how could you conveniently forget how convenient London's tube is? Or NYC's subway? Or Melbourne's Yarra Trams? Or even Tokyo's legendary efficiency?

The Way I See It, yang bodoh tu kita sebab tak buat apa.

Condescending 101: The 'Like A New Signing' Bullshit

2009-07-19T07:57:00.006-04:00

As we all know by now, Arsenal have continued in their tradition of selling one of their biggest stars in every summer transfer window. Many are saying his departure is 'compensated' by the return of Tomas Rosicky and Eduardo, that their return to the team is like two new signings. It's not just Arsenal: I remember years ago, the return of Scholes from eye injury was hailed by the media as "like a new signing". What exatcly does that mean?

Compensated? New signings?

Losing a player can never be compensated by the return of someone already there. The return of the injured Owen Hargreaves will not compensate Manchester United's midfield after the departure of Cristiano Ronaldo. However, the acquisition of Michael Owen and Antonio Valencia may compensate (to an extent) the loss of the winger.

Had Adebayor stayed, those two would still return anyway and Arsenal would have all three. Could have. The only compensation (thus far) for the Gunners is the £25m paid by Manchester City. The same goes for any other team: the return of a player who is already in your squad is expected. Because if it wasn't, then why the hell do you still pay his wages?

Put it this way:

You break one finger--it'll be useless for months and you wear a cast around it. Then as you wait for it to heal, you lose another finger--frostbite or someone cuts it off to steal your ring or whatever. You simply cannot tell yourself, "It's okay, I may have eight now but once the fracture heals and I take off the cast, it's like I get a whole new finger".

A loss is a loss--no two ways about it. Who are you trying to kid by saying, "Nah, it's okay. He was shite anyway," or even "At least the other guy will be back"? Please, just stop being so bloody condescending about things. You lost a player and that's that. Unless you do something with the cash you got, you're worse off because a wad of cash can't kick a ball, keep goal, or manage a team. Last I checked, it doesn't even qualify for squad registration.

You win some, you lose some. Adat pertandingan.

Sexist Fridays

2009-07-17T11:08:00.004-04:00

I am not a sexist. In fact I can safely say that I'm more of a feminist than most girls. But Fridays in Malaysia also means something else apart from the usual yells of "TGIF!"--sembahyang Jumaat. It is a national event. Everywhere, Muslim men (the ones who give a rat's ass, at least) will flock to the nearest mosque for our weekly shindig. Though women are discouraged to attend, some mosques do reserve a section for them. Here in my hometown of Bukit Damansara, we have the Masjid Saidina Umar Al-Khattab (Omar, depending on which sign you refer to) which is on a hill. There are two steep roads leading up to it, one at the front, and one going through a parking lot at the back.

So it should come as no surprise at all that 12:45PM onwards, traffic on roads around the mosque will obviously be one-way towards it. After 1:00PM, a slow-moving jam will ensue. Fine, really. You know people have to park their cars and what not. So you sit in your car patiently and inch forward until the car in front wont budge anymore and you end up double-parking. Today, we triple-parked. There is a general consensus that we'll all get as close as possible to the mosque--blocking someone's S-Class is perfectly fine--then blah secepat mungkin once it's over. But whatever it is, you don't stop half-way there, you don't make a U-turn, you don't go against traffic. Once prayers ends, everyone goes out. So before it starts, it's all roads going in. Then once it ends, it's all roads out. A simple, understandable unwritten rule for a once-a-week thing.

Of course, around mosques on Fridays there'll always be gerais and trucks selling food and drinks and clothes and alternative medicine and even cars and bikes. So many men conveniently lunch there. Women buy stuff too, but they go elsewhere because our mosque doesn't have a girl's section so no women would flock there. It's fine, really. The businesses flourish, people get lunch, whoop-dee-doo.

And then you have women who are absolute idiots who drive into the mosque to buy rojak from that truck and roti john from that guy because his is best, then drive out against traffic. We men are making quite the effort to be there on time because it is, after all, compulsory for us and not for women. And as our cars take up all the lanes around MSUA, heading uphill towards the mosque, suddenly a petite tudung-clad lady in a Myvi at the gate of the mosque smiles sheepishly, asking us to give her right-of-way. And some of us have to reverse. Downhill. Or turn aside. And the car behind would have to follow suit. All because one lady wanted to buy food. And just had to drive into one-way traffic. And then go out while everyone still wants to get in. Instead of just walking. And piss everyone off. Who just happen to be men. So now it's a gender thing. So when we men complain and shake our heads and raise our hands and curse under our breath, we're being sexist.

And I don't care.

I'm one for gender equality and shit like that, but sometimes you just get asshole cases like this who should be attacked by all the men dia dah susahkan. It's bad enough we have to rush and park and all that--some of us left our offices late or had toilet stops or what not--ada pulak si bodoh mana entah tak reti guna otak delaying us further. I make no apologies. Especially to the Malay women. Bukannya diorang tak belajar dulu. They should be told off. Because they should know better.

I can understand it if non-Muslims aren't aware what time a certain prayer is, or why Hari Raya gets earlier every year or why all the tudung hype. That's not ignorance. That's simply because they don't practice what we do. But even they--they who don't know shite about our ways--don't stand in our way on Fridays.

So why do Malay/Muslim women do?

On Comparing The Comparison of MP3 Players With That of Donuts

2009-07-15T10:55:00.014-04:00

I write this after devouring half a box of J.Co mini-donuts (I can't say Munchkins because that's Dunkin's, and I honestly don't care enough for any other brand to actually give a shit about product names) and getting rid of/spitting out the other half because they were rubbish.

Remember back in 2001 when Apple announced the first iPod--the (relatively) ugly one with a wheel that actually spins, and four buttons around it? Remember how you were still oogling over your 64 MB MP3 player and then boom! this company, newly back from the dead, comes in with something huge with 10 GB of storage capacity. Why, people asked, did you need your lifetime's music in your pocket? How times have changed. But anyway, now when you think MP3, you have iPods...and everything else. Even if you hate the iPhone or Macs, when it comes to an MP3 player, it's easiest dealing with an iPod: they don't change formats, or firmware or software compatibility, syncing is a cinch, and servicing is easy since there are only those few models available unlike the gazillions offered at once by Sony, Creative, SanDisk and what-have-you.

Take a look at the competition. Everyone one-ups the other. The iPod is so and so. Suddenly the new Walkman is this and that and that. And in comes the equally feature-packed Sansa but with longer battery life. Then the new Zune is all that but with wifi. Sure, once in a while Sony and Creative and SanDisk come up with brilliant products. Last I checked, Sony blew the wireless MP3 player market by offering an MP3 player so small that it stuck on your ear--thus it didn't require Bluetooth or whatever wireless crap that saps battery power. And gets lost. Brilliant, really, especially for techies like me. But do people flock for things like that? Is that what they want? It's like everyone else is trying too hard, jamming their players with ridiculous gadgets and whatnot to make comparisons with the iPod seem like comparing an Alienware with an iMac. Yet still people prefer the iPod.

What's so special about the iPod, anyway? Back in the day, I used to think "because it's white, it's so pretty". At a time when all computers were the 'beige box', the iMacs shocked the world by being white. And the iPods were just so...pretty and crisply white. But now the Macs aren't all-white. And only the Classic is still available in white. Taking a look at the bigger picture, the iPod has everything you would want or need. People always complain that the iPod doesn't support FM radio. Mind you, I plug my iPod in every time I'm in the car. I won't say that radio is dead. I mean, you'd still want the news or traffic updates. But the whole reason you buy an MP3 player (or a CD player or DVD or Blu Ray player) is because you can choose what you want to see and/or hear. If you wanted someone else to make that choice, go watch TV or listen to the radio.

Very much like donuts, then.

At least that's The Way I See It. For me there's only Dunkin' Donuts. Everything else tries too hard or falls short. Why would you want donuts with topping yang berkilat? Or something so soft you'd think they watered down the dough? What is so wrong about Dunkin's donuts anyway? It's nice, the size is just right, it doesn't whore itself out by selling its donuts in boxes on supermarket shelves (here's lookin' at you Krispy Kreme), and it doesn't offer a gazillion ridiculous flavors to tickle your--yes, you!--unique fancy. Strawberry Jam, Double Chocolate, Boston Creme. Settle.

Fancy-shmancy donuts are bullshit. Instead of buying a pizza-like donut with ketchup and sausage bits on top, why not just buy a freaking slice of pizza? Why waste money on something that isn't quite what it is, and is bloody well not what it tries to be?

Do you want a small, soft, shiny donut?

Do you want cheap, dry donuts, with too much sugar, filled with preservatives and found in boxes on Uni-Mart shelves?

No, you wouldn't. You'd want freshly baked, simple donuts because that's what they're supposed to be like.

That's why I'm still loyal to Dunkin'. That's why you bought your iPod.

If I Were A Dictator - Part I

2009-07-14T08:24:00.007-04:00

I would pass a decree or law or whatever against idiots who:

Fail to use the turn signal when they switch lanes or turn.
Drive in between lanes, i.e. on the lines.
For no good reason drive slower than a vehicle of inferior speed.
Take their own sweet time to pass/cross the street when others take the courtesy to let them pass.

I would set up a special task force--not to the extent of Hitler's SS--but one ruthless and efficient enough to chase any idiot who happens to find himself in any of the aforementioned felonies, and beat them up. Here's a scenario:

ABC is driving on Jalan P which ends in a T-junction at Jalan Q. He wants to turn left so signals left but has to wait because he sees XYZ coming from his right on Jalan Q. So ABC waits. If he were driving manual, he might even have to put his car in free gear and pull the handbrakes. Then as XYZ approaches the T-junction, he turns left into Jalan P. ABC had the courtesy to wait for him to pass, thinking he'd go straight. But he turned without signalling. If XYZ signaled, he could have saved ABC so much time, especially at T-junctions without traffic lights. And this is only one scenario I cooked up minutes ago. There are millions more in real life.

Now my task force--let's call 'em the Anti-Asshole Squad (Traffic Division)--will put one guy hidden in the bushes, as the traffic policemen with the speed detecting laser guns do. When he sees this idiot XYZ (and ABC will do well to make the officer's job easier by honking at XYZ), he will pull him over and ask him to step out of the vehicle. He will then grab him by the shirt or collar--whichever is convenient--and shove him against his car or van while yelling at the top of his lungs,

"WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM? APA SUSAH SANGAT NAK TARIK BATANG SIGNAL TU? MAK BAPAK KAU TAK AJAR KE, HA? ADAKAH ANDA BODOH? LAIN KALI KAU NAK TUKAR LANE KE...KAU NAK PUSING KIRI, PUSING KANAN KE...SIGNAL LA, PANTAT!"

The officer will then lead him in an extremely patronizing lesson on how to use the turn signal, as well as hand signals should his signal lights fail.

In the case of the other idiots, the modus operandi is fairly similar; just change the warning and the lesson. You see, driving between lanes is very, very selfish and inconsiderate. Even if you drive a freaking Alphard or lorry, and on your right is a concrete wall so you just have to inch inside the left lane. See, if the guy beside you is in a Kancil or a Viva, maybe he might shut one eye. Maybe. But if he's in a normal-sized car he'd feel cramped for space and would have to speed up (if there aren't any cars in front) or slow down (and risk getting hit by the car behind). If there aren't any cars beside you and you take up both lanes, cars behind you who want to speed up or overtake face quite the problem.

Slow drivers. Not just any slow drivers. Drivers who go slower than vehicles of inferior speed. No, I'm not being inconsiderate towards the slower cars out there. Or slow or cautious drivers. You see, if an old lady drives a Kelisa very slowly, that's perfectly fine. Old ladies aren't as impatient or adrenaline-pumped as young people, and the Kelisa isn't that much of a speed demon. If you stop beside an old lady in a Kelisa at a traffic light, do wave at her. But if you see a 30-something stud in a Ferrari F355 going slower than a lori simen for no good reason, then you know he's an idiot. He's holding up traffic, he's pissing people off for God-knows-what reason. He should be schooled by the AAS.

Repeat offenders will be beaten up on the spot. No lessons, no warnings. They'll just be told they fucked up after they've been warned and boom! a hook and jab to the face, a couple of body blows. Jantan betina aku ketuk. Yes. Maybe warning and threatening the offender as they give out the beating would instill the "I should signal when I switch lanes"-ness in him/her.

Note that I plan to do this in capacity of ruler. I have no doubt this is for the greater good of the people. Seriously. Just like honking people who fuck up. Of course we should cut them some slack since nobody's perfect. And that's exactly why I advocate honking anyone who changes lanes without signaling. He could be a total asshole, or he could be the bestest driver there ever was, only that he was careless today. Either way, by honking him you tell him how dangerous his driving is and more often than not, he'd be more aware in future. That's how most of us pick up the habit anyway: when we get honked at.

You see, on the roads we see cars, not people. Whether you're a 14-year old out to have a good time, or a 33-year old on his daily 9-to-5, or an 81-year old on her way to tai chi class, it doesn't matter. You can't use inexperience as an excuse for being a danger to others. You can't use old-age or horrible eyesight either. If you're a danger to others, you should not be driving.

If you're one of 'em, perhaps the AAS should threaten you too?

"If Your Mother Gave Birth To Two, Lagi Tiga Tu Mana Datang?"

2009-07-13T12:59:00.005-04:00

The interesting question "who am I" can be answered in many ways. But one very important way we define ourselves is by the people around us: our family, relatives and friends. And family obviously usually plays the larger role in shaping us.

I thought I had a big family. As a kid I believed I had two aunts and two uncles on my mother's side, and that the eldest 'aunt' had two daughters and two sons who were around my mother's age. My Standard Two 'family tree' project will confirm this. Nobody cared to explain to a budak sekolah rendah about adoptions or divorces or deaths, so whatever I assumed (and they referred to each other as 'sister' or 'brother'), they just played along. This is wrong. Very wrong. Because after sekrenkeb, I was out of the loop for most of the five years in Malacca.

Imagine, at my eldest 'aunt's' husband's death, I realized she did not share the same patronym (bin/binti) as Mama. I asked. And apparently no, she ain't blood related but we love her just as much nonetheless. And then there's the uncle with three different names. I saw his I/C once and thought, "WHAT THE FUCK? Apasal 'bin' dia lain?" Then before he got married, "aik, tukar nama pulak?" I asked. Not her biological brother either. So now, apparently two relatives were...not relatives? No, it doesn't change much. But it explains why one has Chinese looks and one is extremely fair and has different-colored hair. And why Mama had that awkward "oh" when she saw the afore-mentioned family tree.

It's not that I want to know who's who and what's what so I can limit relations according to blood-relatedness (whatever that means) or berkira when I write my will. I guess, it's just nice to know that XYZ is ABC to me, just because.

"So, how many did your mother give birth to actually?"
"Two."
"Dah tu yang lain mana datang? The stork hantar?"
"Sit down and listen."

And it doesn't stop there. My eldest 'aunt's' four kids--two of 'em are actually her own aunts. See, she lost her parents at a young age and so was placed under my grandparents' care before they had their own kids. Apparently, in true Arabian family form, my grandfather's littlest half-siblings were the same age as his own children. So when the eldest 'aunt' grew up and got married, she took care of my grandfather's two littlest sisters--her own aunts. And those two grew up with my mother; went to school and all that together. But I always thought they were the eldest 'aunt's' kids--meaning that they were my cousins, and their children my nieces and nephews. But no. They are actually two levels above me. So my nieces and nephews aren't even my cousins; they are my aunts and uncles. It doesn't mean much now, but as a kid I liked knowing I get senioroty because I'm the uncle. How the tables were turned.

Again, relations and relatedness doesn't change diddly-squat because you will always treat someone ten years younger than you in whatever fashion your ages are. It will differ when I'm ten and she's just born, to when I'm twenty and she's ten, to when I'm thirty and she's twenty, to when I'm sixty and she's fifty. It doesn't matter if she's my great-great-grandmother for fuck's sake: a ten year old will goo-goo ga-ga a baby, a sixty year old would be chums (somewhat) with a fifty year old. But again, also, it's just nice to know who's who...just because.

Things get even worse: my mother's uncle married my father's niece. So through my mother's side, her uncle's son is her cousin--my uncle. But through my father's side, his niece's son is my nephew. So that guy and his siblings are simultaneously uncles/aunts and nephews/nieces with me and my siblings. Not cousins.

For me, I felt a certain uneasiness at the thought that I was fifteen and still learning who this was or who that was when I've known them all my life. It's family for fuck's sake. Apa hal tak tau semua ni? And I felt even more guilt after I heard their stories: the sacrifices they made, the things they did for one another. As family, we should all know what we've done for each other, what people have done for us. Because in the end, we're all we've got, innit?

Knowing yourself--what you like, hate, love, can and can't stand is important. But knowing your family--your background, the people who brought you up--plays an equally important role in understanding ourselves.

I don't think it's a good idea to hide the identities of family, especially the ones you see every day. I mean, sure, things may come out as a surprise and catch you off guard, or people will do the dayus thing by using the 'adoptedness' against their sister-from-another-mother. But I think it's a beautiful thing to know that you can love and care for someone regardless if he/she was of your own flesh and blood or soulmate. Even if news of your relatedness (or lack of it) comes as a shock, at least you'd know that whether or not he was your biological brother, he damn well played the role as best he could.

And ultimately that's all that matters.

And that it's nice to know just because.

Happily Unhappy Or Unhappily Happy?

2009-07-11T01:35:00.002-04:00

Which would you rather be, happily unhappy or unhappily happy? Both similar in that you're one but you're also the other. Perhaps that's too tricky. Maybe 'happily discontent or unhappily content' would have done better but what-to-the-ever.

Anyway, the former--happily unhappy. For quite some time now I've been learning to love my new life in the wonderful city that is Pittsburgh. The city has been extremely generous to me: Primanti Bros., the bridges, the inclines, Phipps, the two not-so-cold winters, Super Bowl and Stanley Cup wins, the lack of a kampung Melayu. Day by day the places, the livelihood, the people, and the food seem to grow on me. I was pretty unhappy and out of place in my first year (and a bit of my second) there. For all the positives I could sing about the Steel City, some rotten apples just had to come and ruin the bunch. But I dealt with it. Lived with it. And learned to smile despite everything and just ignore all the bullshit.

In many ways nothing changed. Only my viewpoint and tolerance adjusted and what I deemed as shitty is now bearable. Or okay. Or fun. Thinking back to my first few weeks after coming to Pittsburgh, or even after the breakup, and comparing it with today, it's like comparing my first Dr. Pepper (I gagged) and yesterday night's (I shook the empty tin to get every last drop).

And then you tell me. Sure, it's nice to hear from you again. Sure, it's nice to know there's no more anger and hatred or dengki between us. It was a great thing, then. Forgiveness and making peace and building bridges. But also, apparently it wasn't that bad. And apparently I wasn't unforgivable. And apparently, most of it was just a farce to show a head-strong front amidst everything.

Now, I am happy to believe whatever people told me back then. I am happy to believe everything she'd told me--be they lies or the honest truth--because frankly, I've learnt to live with them as well as their repercussions. So why break ranks and unearth things we needn't know about our past? Why tell me things that only serve to question my decisions--did I give up too early? should I have been nicer? It wasn't that bad after all; what if I had followed through on going there? I am one for not making enemies, for ending these fights and arguments, for avoiding those childish cold wars and silent treatments, so I was rather happy that relations and my person in general had taken a turn for the better. Be the better person. Rise above. Whatever. But when the ending of a horribly long saga brings forth so many what-if questions that messes with your beliefs and the foundations on which you based your judgments and decisions and policies, it just...makes me unhappy, for lack of a nicer term.

Though this has come as somewhat of a burden to me, I will refrain from buruk sangka and take those words at face value: it's been long enough and you just have to get some things off your chest. Let's face it, if we didn't break the silence, the same shit continues. Now that we did, this shit pulak happens. Either way, you're screwed.

C'est la vie.

Bohemian Rhapsody Bahasa Melayu

2009-07-09T14:16:00.004-04:00

Inikah hidup benar?
Inikah fantasi?
Terselit dalam tanah runtuh;
Tersekat dalam realiti;
Buka matamu,
Pandang langit dan lihat.

Aku budak miskin;
Tak perlu simpati;
Aku senang datang,
Senang pergi;
Sikit rendah,
Sikit tinggi;
Mana saja angin tiup;
Aku langsung tak pe-du-li;
Tak peduli.

Mama,
Ku bunuh orang;
Acu pistol di kepalanya;
Tarik picu, temu ajalnya;
Mama,
Hidup baru mula;
Kini dah terbuang segalanya;
Mama, huu-uu-uu;
Tak berniat buat kau nangis;
Kalau ku belum pulang waktu 'ni besok;
Teruskan, teruskan;
Jangan peduli apa-apa.

Terlambat,
Waktu dah tiba;
Meremang bulu roma,
Sengal sendi sini sana;
Selamat tinggal anda semua,
Aku harus pergi,
Tinggalkan semua, nak hadap nasibku;
Mama, huu-uu-uu;
(Mana saja angin tiup)
Aku tak mahu mati;
Kadang-kadang harap ku langsung tak dilahirkan.

Aku lihat bayang-bayang seseorang;
Scaramouche, scaramouche, menarilah fandango;
Kilat guruh berdentum,
Sangat menakutkanku!
Galileo! (Galileo!)
Galileo! (Galileo!)
Galileo! Figaro!
Menakjubkan...! -kan..! -kan..! -kan..!

Aku budak miskin,
Tak disayangi;
Dia budak miskin,
Hina dan dina,
Selamatkan daripada aniaya.

Senang datang,
Senang pergi;
Boleh tak lepasku?
Bismillah!
Tak! Kami takkan lepas;
Lepaskan dia!
Bismillah!
Kami takkan lepas;
Lepaskan dia!
Bismillah!
Kami takkan lepas;
Lepaskanku!
Takkan lepaskan;
Lepaskanku!
Takkan lepaskan;
Lepaskanku!
Takkan lepaskan (takkan, takkan, takkan...) ku...
Tak, tak, tak, tak, tak!

Oh, astaga;
Oh, astaga;
Astaghfirullah,
Lepaskan aku;
Encik Iblis dah sediakan syaitan buatku,
Buatku,
Buatku..!

Kau fikir kau boleh tahanku,
Mataku kau ludahi-i-i?
Kau fikir kau boleh cintaku,
Dan biarkanku mati-i-i?
Oh, sayang;
Tak boleh 'cam ni, sayang;
Aku harus pergi,
Aku harus pergi dari sini.

Oh yeah,
Oh yeah;
Aku tak peduli;
Semua pun tahu;
Aku langsung tak pe-du-li...