THINGS NOT TO SAY IN AN INTERVIEW

Q: Why do you want to join the assurance team?

A: You want answers?

Q: I want the truth!

A: Well you can't handle the truth!!

Cue the obligatory Jack Nicholson-ish semi-psychotic stare. Luckily for me, the interviewer was a big Tom Cruise fan himself. He smiled and we both walked out together, hand in hand, him assuring me that the firm could use A Few Good Men like myself. We then walked off into the sunset, with "Stars and Stripes Forever" playing in the background.

It was then that I woke up, grateful that it WAS a dream...







and promptly smacked myself silly. What the hell am I saying? I'd even put on one of those stupid Popeye suits if that'd get me a job...

I LOVE EVERTON

Okay, I don't love Everton, but after Rooney's goal and Richard Dunne's own goal, you can't blame me for that headline now, can you?

Back to reality, then. Next week's a busy one. Well, relatively anyway. A presentation on Wednesday, an interview on Thursday, and Puan Rooh's farewell dinner on Friday. Urgghh. I hate going to these social events. I'm not the most social person around; in fact, I'm sure those of you who know me personally would probably describe me as a rather introvert character at dinner parties. Okay, okay. I'll qualify that. I'm an introvert at those parties when Hanim is not around. When she is, I suddenly and shockingly metamorphosise into this confident-yet-amusingly-tactless sod who has an uncanny ability to contract foot-in-mouth symptoms. Happy, Min?

Slept at 5.30 last night. Had a long and sometimes thoughtful (but mostly it was just guy talk, which as you may think involves none other than sex, sex, and procreation. Errmm... yeah.. that's right. That's what we did. We talked about sex. Really.) discussion with Ali, Apai and up until 4 am, Pete. It was good fun. Found out that Ali had a couple of cheerleader friends who, for his birthday, decided to give him what can only be described as a private performance. No, you perverts, it was a special cheer they made up for him. Wow.

(Mental note: must get Hanim to buy cheerleading outfit, and to compose special cheer. Maybe I should get a pair of leotards as well.)

Oh shit. That was supposed to be a mental note, dammit!

WANTED: A HTML-LITERATE UBER-COOL SUPER GEEK FOR VOLUNTARY WORK ASSISTING THE 'WEB DESIGN'-ILY CHALLENGED

I'm feeling rather sluggish (if perchance one glances at the title and ponders the lack of ability to come up with a suitable word, this fact will become very much apparent), and not totally up for the challenge of updating this blog. However, I shall persevere.

In any case, I really need someone to help me out with the html coding. Somehow, the page looks different in IE compared to Firefox. It looks neater and much more legible in IE, but I personally don't use IE and I know some others who don't. So some help with optimising the page for both types of user would be great.

Umm.. hello? Anybody listening? Oh right. Forgot hardly anybody reads my blog. With the exception of Ms. (soon to be Mrs.) Nik Hanim of course. Now, Hanim, put that crowbar down. Really. Use this soft blue pillow instead.

Ermm.. on the other hand...*

I seriously regret taking up American Constitutional Law as my final semester elective. It's doing my head in. The amount of reading is bad enough, but my total lack of familiarity with American history is rather embarassing. I am often irritated by the tendency of American jurists and legislators to appeal to vague and woolly principles, such as those concerning liberty, as espoused by John Locke and Thomas Payne, and the republican ideology and the checks and balances system of separation of power, as argued by Plato in "The Republic". I am also irritated by the Supreme Court's tendency to sway from one political spectrum to the other, from Marshall CJ's bold statement of federal supremacy in Marbury v Madison, to Taney CJ's lame attempt to defend the institution of slavery by reference to state sovereignty arguments (this being due to his inherently racist upbringing, one might argue) in Dred Scott v Sandford, a case which accelerated the course towards the American Civil War.

Hey. I DO know something about the topic. Neat-o.


*(for anyone without the arcane knowledge of the 'blue-pillow mystery', please consult Ms. Yazmin. I'm sure she'd be happy to fill you in.)

I'M SORRY

On my way to uni today, an old man with what to my untrained eye seems to be a case of Alzheimer's disease asked me, "Does this bus go to the Angel?" Smiling, I said no. "You need to take this bus here, the number 18, and change at Euston to a no. 30, 73 or 205". I doubt he heard me, and I doubted even more that he actually understood what I was saying. I offered to take him to the Angel, as I was heading there anyway. He didn't seem to understand me, but I didn't care, I really wanted to help him. I was determined to get him to Angel safely.

Somehow though, when he got on the number 18 bus, a number of people offered to help him out. I didn't want to impose myself upon others, and anyway I had already changed my mind about getting him to Angel, as I was late for Friday prayers and had to rush. So when we neared Euston, I jumped out of the bus and grabbed a bus behind it, the number 205, a bit guiltily I suppose, for abandoning the guy, but secure in the knowledge that somebody would help him out surely.

The bus was a bit slow, so the number 18 managed to arrive at its final stop before I passed it. When I eventually did go pass it, the old dishevelled man was standing there looking lost and terrified. I don't know whether he made it to Angel safely, heck, I don't even know why he was making the journey in the first place. Who was he seeing... friends? family? I hope he got to see them, and I hope they take good care of him.

I don't know you, old man, and I doubt you'd be reading this. But I have to apologise anyway, and as you can perhaps see, my train of thout is rather messed up at the moment; a pretty good indication of the guilt I feel inside. I could've helped you out, but I didn't. I'm sorry for being such a hypocrite, for complaining that the problem with humanity is that we just don't care about each other and yet leaving you alone on the sidewalks of Euston Square without knowing what to do or where to go. I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

THIS BREATHTAKING, AWE-INSPIRING, FEET-SWEATING, PANTS-SOILING, A-THRILL-A-MINUTE GEM CALLED.. ERMM.. FOOTIE

Playing with 10 men, away from home, against the mighty Gunners...

Arsenal 2 - Manchester United 4 (yes, FOUR)

"That's class" said Andy Gray, the Sky Sports commentator. Just about sums it up.

Bye-bye Arsene "sulk-meister" Wenger.

ME COUCHER POUR DORMIR

I have trouble sleeping. I can't seem to put my head down at night without things crowding around this noggin of mine. Sometimes I think I hear things, things that make my heart skip a beat each and every time. But then again, it might just be my brain playing tricks on me, just another way it deceives me into not thinking about the things that are really keeping me wide awake.

Like the fact that I am approaching 25, and I have yet to achieve anything worthwhile. It bothers me that I am still at university at this age, whilst friends and acquaintances have already had a start to their working lives. Some are married, heck, some even have kids. I know I can't change things, and I can't replace the two years of being lost in the wild. All the same, it haunts me. I am consumed by the need to constantly prove that I am not dumb. Somehow, I have trouble believing that, even when confronted with evidence to the contrary.

I am a proud man. I admit that. Pride is the thing that drives me on, I suppose. Too much pride, however, is to a certain degree my weakness. When I fail, when I lose, it haunts me, like a line from a song that irritates the heck out of you but you just can't seem to shake it off your mind (think Cheeky Girls). I've got to start learning how to let go.

What is this that I fear?
Anonymous disquietude,
Pervasive yet obscure,
All-consuming,
Never-ending,
A dull ache,
To a torrid roar.

I think I fear failure most of all.