Tuesday, March 28, 2006

.:So it begins... again:.

Well, I'm back, folks. From my Dublin trip, in case you missed the last entry. Which I hope you didn't. I think.

Ahh... I guess your life would be so much the merrier without my stammering banter eh? The stutteringly apologetic nature of my intellectually numb mutterings must simply be torture to your oh so delicate temperament. Forgive me, dear readers, I simply must go on, in this stymied fashion of mine, if simply to cure this urge to shout at the top of my lungs from the top of Petronas Twin Towers to the rest of the world: "Oi! Aku ni still alive lah!!"

Not that anyone will hear it, not all the way from the top of the tower's spire. I'm more likely to be zapped by lightning on a clear & sunny day there than be heard by the minions thronging below.

Sorry folks... I don't know what got into me today. I didn't sleep much last night. In fact, I don't really know how long I slept. All I know is that I was tossing and turning from about 10 pm till 1 am, got up to take a leak and swallow a sackful of sedatives enough to knock out a really big orangutan, tossed and turned again despite being smaller than said orangutan, decided at 3 am to try the ultimate sedative (reading my CFA study pack lying down on the bed... the Ethics portion, no less), called it quits within ten minutes after the apparently redundant Ethics bit pissed me off to no end, called Farah and chatted for a bit, tossed and turned again till about 4.30, I think, and then it all went blank till about 5.30 am when the alarm buzzed and pulled me, kicking and screaming, from that blissful land called Dreamland.

I wonder how my English teachers would have reacted to that extremely long sentence filled with what seemed to be an endless procession of commas. To Mr Wong, Ms Chan and Mr Fellender, I sincerely apologise for causing you much grief. And to Mr Woods, well, I'm sorry, but causing you grief is just too much fun.

Anyway, forget the ramblings, and let us return to the story at hand, old chap.

My trip to Dublin started off nicely. Took a train to KLIA and arrived in good time to meet up with my parents who had insisted on seeing me off. I was wondering why they wanted to see me off. Little did I realise that in my mother's eyes, I'm still the awkward 13 year old who still needed help packing his bags, instead of the less awkward 25 year old (who still needed help packing his bags now and again); to my horror, she began unzipping my bag, revealing in its full glory my polka dot boxers (to my credit, they were manly dots - "shooting target circles, dude! They can't get any more macho!" said the snivelling salesman) to the gasping (and no doubt horrified - "Mothers, shield your daughters!!") public. She then proceeded to rearrange all the stuff, revealing my facial toner, my heel buff, my hair dryer and the red stiletto I put on during the weekends when I feel in the mood. All traces of the male macho character that I have struggled to portray all this while had vanished by then.

Admittedly, though, her rearrangements were much better than my original "toss-in-all-you-can-grab-with-two-hands-and-then-some" approach. It even made finding that stiletto rather easy. Thanks, Mama! You know I love you!*

More to follow... including my adventures in entering Charles De Gaulle (oh please... Airport, you pervert), and my brilliant encounter/mental debate with an Irish racist. Oh, and pictures. Lots of pictures for you salivating mob.

*For the benefit of those who may not appreciate my perverse (not to mention pervert-ed) sense of humour, I would like to stress that I don't wear stilettos. Not red ones at least.**
**See above, minus the last sentence.

Thursday, March 02, 2006


Well.. the results season is over. I’m supposed to be working on my PBB Oil model, but to be honest I can’t really be bothered to do it. It’s almost done, anyway, apart from linking up the ACE sheet and getting my forecast assumptions fine-tuned, which would mean I need to call up the company, but then again they won’t be in till Monday, so I…

Ooopss. Sorry… got a bit carried away there. Work’s been occupying my mind, as you can very well see. I’m tired. So tired. I’m so glad my week-long vacation’s coming up. I’ll be off to Dublin, people. So if anyone wants anything, you’d better hurry up and give me a call, before I change my mind (or change my phone number).

Yes I will be changing phone numbers; well, at least for the fixed line. Not because I’m being stalked or anything. It’s just that I’ll be moving out soon. I’ve got a new place off Jalan Kuching, in Sri Putramas. The place is good enough for me considering it’s a rental. It’s much more secure too compared to my old place.

Things have been on the up for me. Getting more involved in my work. Learning more and more each and every day. Never thought I’d be so happy so soon after the SWSNBN (or “she-who-shall-not-be-named” for those who need a refresher) fiasco. One thing that still bugs me though. I feel as if the whole entire 4 years was a complete blank. I have no good memory of the time. Admittedly, there were times when I was happy, when I was ecstatic even. But it’s all for naught, and now, although I don’t feel sad anymore, the cut went in too deep to fully heal just like that.

Alright. I’ll admit it. I’m scared. Scared of what the future holds. Scared that I’m not good enough for the job I’m holding now. Scared that I’ll never make it as an analyst. Scared that the person I love now won’t be the same anymore after a year or two (or three or four). Scared that I’ll have to face the same s**t all over again. Heck, it’s a wonder I can even get up in the mornings.

But as usual I’ll just get up and face these fears. I’ll look them in the eyes and stare them down, as I have stared down other challenges before. I may fail, and I may fall, but I will never fail to get up. My heart has been mangled, stabbed, shot, sliced, diced, shattered and mulched, but my spirit has never been broken. Insya-Allah.

As Farah would put it… “Chaiyok sayang!!” =)

Ps: This is probably just a result of male-form PMS, as Nads so eloquently put it over cvoffee yesterday