30 December 2005

Shallow pre-New-Year hysteria and euphoria

Newsflash: Suanie and co. (including the famous KY) were spotted this evening at SS2, I think. plink loves U!


*runs away in embarrassment*

Am also happily over the moon. A plink can never have too many pairs of shoes. Besides, I'd laughed my shoes off earlier, so I went out and bought another pair. They are light and flexible, truly a joy to do plinky stuff in. All the more reason for me to go and get some exercise (and get a little more into shape).

I was so over the moon that I started showing off in the shop. If you were at a Klang Valley Nike Store these last few days and saw an excited plink making a scene, I'm very sorry.

I do these things sometimes.

No prizes then, for guessing that my resolutions for next year will include a couple from last year.

25 December 2005

A Faraway Christmas Morning

Once upon a time, in a land just beyond a PLUS toll plaza was a kingdom of unmeasured wealth. The people lived in contentment and joy. Presiding over the kingdom was a king (of course), his queen (check) and a little plink (we’ll explain in a sec).

One morning plink went down to a nearby stream to play. The goldfish that were there rose as plink approached. The queen was already there, feeding the brightly coloured fish in the light of the new day. Sunlight glinted in splashes of colour off of mirrored scales as the fish went joyously about their feeding.

‘The fish are very pretty, Mother,’ plink observed. The queen nodded her agreement, then added, ‘Look. Here comes your father.’

The king joined his family at the waters edge. After contemplating the serenity of his surroundings, he took up his fish feed.
Then he said: ‘Come, children. Limpeh hor lu jiak!’


Wakakaka!! ROTFLMShoesOffSomeoneBuyMeAnotherPairPleez

pDad does have a way with words.... ;)

A very Merry Christmas to everyone!

24 December 2005

All I want for Christmas

Being tagged with a meme is a rather strange sort of thing. Being tagged twice and in two different languages is something else altogether. Thanks to LB and Hokkienlang, I now have to tell you what I want for Christmas, who I’d like to get it from and why.


Why twice? Those who’ve played tag before know why: getting tagged once is sore, twice feels like you’ve been clubbed with a stick. A nasty, big stick. With splinters.

I’ll tell you once in English, with all the bells and whistles. Then (because Yvy still hasn't got her sampan paddle to lend me) I’ll tell you a second time with a rough, splinter-filled stick called Hokkien-uar.

Because you asked for it.

As LB was quick to point out, I need new slippers. I’d like a new pair of slippers from the people who make Hush Puppies, pretty please. If they can make slippers just like the shoes, my toes will be ever grateful and it will be easier for me to be a good plink for all of next year. ;)

I would like a talent for languages. Why? I’d like to teach the world to sing, in perfect harmony…. I suppose a talent for music wouldn’t hurt too. While getting the world to sing (in perfect harmony), I’d get to learn about all sorts of people and history and things. How’s that for a vacant cop-out? I’d like this from the one and only Jordan McVay. JM’s life is a wonderful example of where the Great Story can take you. Go Jordan! (Of late, I’ve lost JM’s URL. If anyone can help me with this, I’ll be most grateful. Honest!)

That’s a third, isn’t it? OK, I’d like Jordan McVay’s new URL, please. I ask because I like his writing and his never-say-die approach to life. The latter is literally true as he has survived a nail-biting encounter with cancer. This man is so cool it makes me look like a total n008. I’d most like you, kind reader, to place this wonderful piece of information in my (virtual) Christmas stocking because I’ve been a good(-ish) plink all year but have managed to lose his URL. Please can I have this third present because without it, I can’t claim the second?

And now, the Hokkien translation. It’s not exact, so get a Hokkien friend to point out the discrepancies for you. Watch out for splinters. ;)

Wa char meh hor LB kar Hokkienlang ‘tag’ tiok. Jit eh lang kio gua chor ‘meme’ tu si kao giak jialat liao. Hor neng eh lang ki ‘tag’ tiok pun kaopeh kaobu liao. Nao hiah! Jit leh iong Eng Boon lai ‘tag’ gua, koh jit leh giah Hokkien Uar lai khar gua eh thao! Tu si annekuan eh peng yiu lai peik lang ki jo kangkueh.

Jo hammik neng tao? Neng eh peng yiu, neng eh ‘reng kuej’… aiyah, gua kong neng tao lah! Jit tao kong Eng Boon, tei ji mai kong Hokkien Uar. Bo sukak eh lang ehsai ki tiao lok hai!
LB-kokor ku zhar uu kong liao, gua ai jit siang ei-thuar. Gua eh sin ei-thuar si ai Hush Puppies cho eh. Cheng liao Hush Puppies eh ei jin song. Ai si ee nang eh jo liao jit siang ei-thuar siangka Hush Puppies eh ei, gua cheng liao kao giak khui sim. Khui sim liao cho jit ni eh hor kangtao. Bo cho pai lang liao!

Tei ji leh, plink si ai lang kak gua zhun sehkai lang kong eh uar. Hokkien uar, Kngtang uar, Jippun uar, Hindi, Tekkok uar, longzong pun ai! Ancua leh? Gua ai kark gui sehkai chio kua, chio suisui…. Ai si gua eh hiao immkak punsi ho leh. Gua ti kark zhun sehkai chiokua eh si, gua ehsai khua patt sek lang ancua kong uar, ancua cho mi kia. Neng ku uar lah: Keng Giam. Mai snio anne chueh lah! Ai hor gua jit geh ‘present’ si Jordan McVay. JM jiak liao boh kau si zhap ni eh png pun uu anne chueh keng giam. Keir ieu Jordan! Gua jin ku boh ki thak JM eh borlok: phang ki liao ee eh URL. Jialat arh! Meir jueyjuey chau uar pun URL choei boh than. Annekuan leh, gua ai thoe keir jit eh ‘present.’

Ancua leh? Gua ai Jordan McVay eh URL. Torlongla…. JM sia eh borlok jin ho thak. Uu thangsi chio kao lao bak ieu. JM guzhar uu sibeh jialat eh keng giam: ee tiok ken ser…. Tiok liao pun bochap. Chekhak ki khua eeseng, jiak iok, thai kuak; tongkim ehsai kong hosay liao! Wah, gua thia liao pun kiasi…. Tolongla, tolong ka gua chuey Jordan McVay eh URL. Gua gui ni cho hor eh plink, tapi chueh bo than ee sin eh URL. Ai si boh ee eh URL, gua ancua khuan ai ki kio JM lai kark guakok boon?!

I’ll have to figure out who to tag, but I’m drawing a blank at the moment. How about this: everyone is cursed to have a very Merry Christmas to all and Good, plinky-type things in the New Year. Can’t get any better than that, can it?

So, SengTang Chek Kuai Lork, everybody!

16 December 2005

I Saw....

Warning: This may hurt. Children, please get your parents to share it with you, but be aware they may turn bright red and pass out first....

'I saw Mummy kissing Santa Claus,
Underneath the mistletoe last night....'

When lyrics spell trouble, I get chills down my spine. When I hear this song, I need a back rub. With whiskey. Tickle me, please....
If I was being naughty then, spare a thought for the our children. This song can do funny things to their minds.
My back freezes solid whenever I hear the opening lines (more to the left, please, sayang...). Kissing people under the mistletoe isn't really innocent, is it? It's a fertility rite. First the kissing, then... this blog becomes 18SX!
One more time: Fertility = disclaimer, or parents report this blog to a newspaper and plink becomes a 'pengendali laman web d@j@l.
It's so obvious what Mommy and Santa are up to.

'She didn't hear me creep
Downstairs to have a peep
They thought that I was upstairs in my bedroom
Fast asleep.'

We're teaching kids to go spy on Santa? The night of Christmas eve, they should be in bed! Does this mean if Mommy is up and running around with strange Santas, the kids will be capable of anything, even espionage?

'Then I saw Mommy tickle Santa Claus
Underneath that beard so snowy white....'

Waitwaitwait!! 18SX 18SX!! Children, go to your rooms, plink is not about to be labelled d@j@l just so you can get your kicks.

We all know what tickling leads to....

'Oh what a laugh it would have been
If Daddy had only seen
Mommy kissing Santa Claus last ni..ight!!'

What a laugh indeed. Kissing, tickling, only the heavens know where it will all end up.

Santa, does Mrs. Claus know what you get exposed to every Christmas night? Do the Little Clauses know what their Daddy gets up to every Christmas night?

IknowIknow, it's really Daddy in a Santa Claus suit. That makes it all right, of course.


Consider this: it's Christmas eve and plink has just slipped out of bed and crept downstairs to see pMom under the mistletoe kissing a man fitting the description of one Mr. S. Claus a.k.a. The Christmasfather.
How am I to know that it's pDad? pDad isn't fat and jolly. pDad does not have a great white beard. My response is likely to be ZOMGWTFBBQCharSiewWanTanMee *shockhorrorpengsanscarredforlife*



Guess which song I'm going to be singing to children this Christmas?


14 December 2005

This is the Meme that Yvy, SimpleAmerican and Selba made.

Yvy, this is all your fault!

*grumble* As long as I'm doing this, I'm making the rules too. *end grumble*

No 'X' or 'blank' here. The scores are as follows:

0. Absolutely not. Never done it, never will.[Disagree strongly, will yell and scream, scratch and bite]
1. Not done it, just might. [Disagree moderately, will mutter darkly at you]
2. May have done it, but don't want to say one way or the other. [Mild disagreement, general eye-rolling]
3. OkOK! I've done it, but I'm not proud. [Neither agree nor disagree, noncommittal shrug]
4. Yes, done it. Just once, never again. [Mild agreement, single perfunctory nod]
5. I've done it and I'd do it again. [Moderate agreement, vigorous nodding]
6. Hey look! plink is teh pwn, U R all n0082! [Agree strongly, hugs, kisses and yes, yes..! YES!!]

OK? Let's have some fun with this.

[5] I’ve consumed alcohol. Yes.
[1] I’ve run away from home. Thought about it, threatened to do it. But no, not done it.
[3] I have lied to my parents about where I am. My excuse: I panicked. It was a long time ago.
[5] I listen to political music. But then, isn’t all music political?
[0] I have collected comic books. Nolah. Cheesin!
[6] I shut others out when I’m depressed. Yes at first, then the fireworks start. Then I get creative.
[5] I watch the news. I get my news from the web.
[2] I own over 5 rap CDs.
[0] I own an iPod or MP3 player. What’s the point, hello?
[5] I love Disney Movies. The cartoons count, yes?
[6] I am a sucker for hair/eyes. Eyes and fingers (like Yvy does). Neat hair, I have a thing for neat hair. *shiver* Mmmm.
[6] I curse regularly. Do you know that spouting invective burns a lot of calories? Good for your/my figure, that.
[1] I paid for that cell phone ring. I wouldn’t dare….
[3] I am a sports fanatic. Exercise, OK. Sports KO.
[1] I love Spam. No, no, no. It’s just so wrong.
[0] I bake well.
[X] I would wear pajamas to school.
[1] I own something from Abercrombie.
[0] I love Martha Stewart. Siaper?!
[1] I am guilty oF tYpInG lIkE tHiS. This is a15o wRr0n8.
[5] I am sometimes self conscious. Hello, blogger here! Of course self-conscious lah!
[6] I like to laugh. One of life’s little pleasures.
[0] I smoke a pack a day.
[3] I have cough drops when I’m not sick. So nice….
[0] I can’t swallow pills.
[3] I can swallow about 5 pills at a time no problem. Never want to do it again: I was not a well bunny at the time.
[5] I have many scars. Fell down loads while growing up.
[5] I’ve been out of this country. Am also out of this world, I’m told *puji diri*
[3] I can’t sleep if there is a spider in the room. I can and have, but didn’t know it was there at the time.
[6] I am really ticklish. But it’s a privilege for only the right person. ;)
[0] I’ve seen a therapist. They come in the night….
[6] I love chocolate. Let’s say it again: I LOVE CHOCOLATE! Let’s go make babies or something.
[4] I play video games. Get my a$$ handed back to me on a plate, more like.
[4] I watch cartoons. And the occasional anime.
[5] Gotten lost in my city. KL and PJ have both changed so much and I’m getting old and forgetful….
[5] Saw a shooting star. Seen many shooting stars. Wait, what’s that light in the sky…?
[4] I had a Surgery. Or rather, surgery. You don’t want to know why. Really.
[5] Gone out in public in your pajamas. You’ll just have to guess when and why. Sat down and had a meal in plain view and everything too!
[4] I have Kissed a Stranger.
[4] Hugged a stranger
[0] Been in a fist fight
[0] Been arrested
[4] Pushed all the buttons on an elevator. Asia Jaya and a couple other places, many moons ago.
[1] Made out in an elevator. Having all MY buttons pushed in an elevator? Not yet.
[1] Swore at your parents. Not that I remember, but everyone else has. So I must have at some point.
[6] Kicked a guy where it hurts. He was asking for it. Really!
[5] Been to a casino. Genting lor.
[1] Been skydiving. Why jump out of a perfectly good airplane?
[1] Broken a bone. Mine or yours? ;)
[0] Skipped school. Who’s a boring little plink?
[1] Played spin the bottle
[4] Gotten stitches. See Surgery above.
[0] Drank a whole gallon of milk in one hour.
[2] Bitten somebody. Rrowwrr….
[1] Been to Niagara Falls.
[3] Gotten the chicken pox. And it was not nice.
[3] Crashed into a friend’s car. No, but my brother’s car engine kaput when I was driving.
[5] Been to Japan. So I have a soft spot for anime.
[4] Ridden in a taxi. Oh the shame!
[0] Shoplifted.
[0] Been fired.
[4] Had feelings for someone who didn’t have them back. For someone who was KIND ENOUGH to let me know it too. Thank you.
[0] Stole something from your job. How boring am I?
[1] Gone on a blind date
[1] Lied to a friend.
[3] Had a crush on a teacher. Muahahar… better not say anything: said teacher may well be a netizen.
[1] Celebrated Mardi Gras in New Orleans
[1] Been married. As soon as someone right i.e. foolish enough, comes along.
[1] Gotten divorced. See marriage above.
[2] Saw someone die.
[1] Been to Africa. Something that I want to do. The Rift Valley looks like a nice place to start.
[1] Driven over 400 miles in one day.
[1] Been to Canada
[1] Been to Mexico
[5] Been on a plane.
[6] Thrown up on a bar. Not at the bar, but we were out clubbing and I vaguely remember being congratulated about something. Friends later said I had been speaking in tongues and was later violently ill at home.
[6] Eaten Sushi. More please! *Looks at hips* Keep it coming!
[1] Been snowboarding
[1] Been Skiing
[1] Been to a motor cross show
[0] Lost a child
[6] Gone to college. And I think they rather that I hadn’t.
[6] Graduated college. So long ago… *sobz*
[0] Done hard drugs
[0] Had someone cheat on you. Not yet, but I promise ‘hell hath no fury….’
[0] Smoked a cigarette. Made a promise ages ago
[0] Smoked a cigar. Promise above.
[0] Made out with a member of the same sex. No.
[0] Slept with a co-worker. Hehe… no.
[0] Purposely set a part of myself on fire. No, not even accidentally.
[0] Been in an abusive relationship. Luckily no, though I have come close.
[5] Laid on your back and watched cloud shapes go by. Watched clouds while standing in a field, so not laid on my back exactly. I’d do it again.
[1] Made a snow angel.
[1] Had a tea party.
[4] Flown a kite.
[4] Built a sand castle. Learned about the frailty of life and crumbly beach sand in one go. People say I was a very cynical child.
[5] Gone puddle jumping. In KL/PJ during a heavy downpour, watch out for a plink hopping noisily from one puddle to the next. It’s true, I swear.
[0] Played dress up.
[1] Jumped into a pile of leaves
[1] Gone sledding
[4] Cheated while playing a game. Strangely, winning after cheating feels worse than losing after playing well. Why is this?
[5] Been lonely. Almost always. People tell me this is normal for unattached plinks. :/
[5] Fallen asleep at work/school. ZZzzz…rgh..what-the-Huh?! *blinkblink*
[5] Watched the sun set. As often as I can.
[6] Felt an earthquake. 26 December 2004, hassling pDad to finish his email quickly so I could get on the web. Thought I felt the ground move, then thought I’d thought it up. Listened for birds and heard none. Minutes later, pSib came in with SMS from a friend up north (and I quote): Langkawi got earthquate!(sic).
[3] Touched a snake. What kind of snake? ;)
[1] Slept beneath the stars. Every night, though I think the question means without a roof over my head.
[6] Been tickled. But it needs to be done right. Mmm… over to the right.. yesYES.. *squirms*
[5] Been robbed. Every day at the supermarket. The local pasar is a little better.
[5] Been misunderstood. The story of my life.
[6] Won a contest. Kucing Gatal’s Wordy Gurdy Competition. How shameless am I?
[3] Ran a red light. Only accidentally, honest! ;)
[0] Been suspended from school.
[4] Been in a car accident. Thankfully, only as a passenger. Thankfully also, no injuries.
[3] Had braces. Metalwork in the mouth for two frustrating years. Felt like my face was being twisted from the inside out.
[1] Eaten a whole gallon of ice cream in one night. Too much for me. Ice cream needs sharing with the right person. Let’s just leave it at that….
[5] Had déjà vu. ‘I told you yesterday and the day before…!’ Every day at work.
[1] Danced in the moonlight. Right person… right person….
[1] Hated the way you look. Am much better now.
[0] Pole danced. People would pay money NOT to see me pole dance. I’d die of embarrassment.
[0] Been obsessed with post-it notes.
[4] Squished barefoot through the mud. Lost one of a pair of slippers once.
[5] Been lost. All the time.
[5] Been to the opposite side of the country. But only East Coast. I’d love to do Sabah and Sarawak.
[5] Swam in the ocean.
[3] Felt like dying. Once, but it’s worked out for the best, so I’m okay now.
[3] Cried yourself to sleep. Ditto.
[5] Played cops and robbers.
[1] Recently colored with crayons/colored pencils/markers.
[3] Sung karaoke. Am not proud about it, but yes, I have. Lock me away, please.
[3] Paid for a meal with only coins. Poor Misai. Thank goodness that time our order came to RM8.30 and we had enough RM1 coins.
[3] Done something you told yourself you wouldn’t. Best way I know of to get myself to do something is what, exactly? ;)
[1] Made prank phone calls.
[3] Laughed until some kind of beverage came out of your nose. Coffee. Surprise, surprise.
[1] Caught a snowflake on your tongue
[5] Danced in the rain. My rain repertoire isn’t restricted to puddle-jumping. ;)
[1] Written a letter to Santa Claus
[5] Blown bubbles. Mostly as a child, but a friend’s daughter recently turned six and us big kids helped blow bubbles at her party.
[1] Made a bonfire on the beach.
[1] Crashed a party. Does crashing AT a party count?
[5] Gone rollerskating. Was in Lion.. I mean Singapore visiting a friend at uni there and he tried to teach me. He tried.
[6] Had a wish come true. All the time :)
[0] Worn pearls. Nope, pearls look silly on me. Must be the shape of my neck.
[0] Jumped off a bridge.
[6] Screamed penis in public. Only when swearing.
[6] Screamed vagina in public. Only when swearing.
[0] Ate dog/cat food. Some of the stuff that is served in restaurants these days….
[1] Told a complete stranger you loved them.
[3] Kissed a mirror.
[3] Sang in the shower. And stopped straight away, for obvious reasons.
[4] Had a dream that you married someone. No, but dreamed that I was in bed with the Right Person. I assumed we were married because… you go figure it out.
[3] Glued your hand to something. That Superglue is serious stuff.
[0] Kissed a fish. What kind of question is this?!
[1] Sat on a roof top.
[5] Screamed at the top of your lungs. Being tickled.
[1] Done a one-handed cartwheel
[1] Talked on the phone for more than 5 hours.
[4] Stayed up all night. Deadlines. Enough said.
[0] Didn’t take a shower for a week.
[5] Climbed a tree.
[1] Had a tree house
[5] Are scared to watch scary movies. I’m just chicken….
[1] Worn a really ugly outfit to school just to see what others say.
[5] Played chicken. Yes, but that’s a daily occurrence on Klang Valley roads.
[1] Pushed into a pool/lake with all your clothes on. Nope, but someone DID try.
[3] Been told you’re beautiful by a complete stranger. That hair episode count?
[6] Been easily amused. A pot of tea, a comfy chair and a good book. Then I’m good to go.
[1] Caught a fish then ate it.
[1] Caught a butterfly. No, but a butterfly at the Farm in Penang landed on me once. Unfortunately, being young and plinky at the time, I freaked out. Poor butterfly.
[1] Laughed so hard you cried.
[0] Cried so hard you laughed. This one is quite disturbing….
[0] Had someone moon/flash at you. Some of the guys at work threatened to, while drunk at an office party.
[1] Cheated on a test. No, never…really! ;P
[0] Have a Britney Spears CD. Aper ni?!
[0] Grown a beard.

I wonder what would happen if we totalled up the scores....

13 December 2005

Call yourself professional summore....

Warning: Manglish-alert. This is one of the things that hurt. Children, please stay away: plink is breathing fire right now.

Let me tell you something about deadlines. My deadlines are my deadlines. Your deadlines are yours. Your deadlines are NOT my deadlines.

There may well be emergencies, but I have to deal with mine before I can help with yours.

The problem you are dealing with may eventually come my way; that would be a legitimate transfer. Even so, while it is in your hands, no amount of shirking or magic-trickery will change this. It is still yours to deal with.

Deal with it.

Your degree is the same as my degree. Your education is the same as my education. You are a responsible adult above the age of majority and, if you so wish, are also able to choose your representative to the Houses of Parliament.

We share a common background and language. One would expect we also share professional courtesy.

Professional courtesy is based on honesty. Professional courtesy implies integrity and a certain level of skill. Professional courtesy means you are competent. Do your job, for heaven's sake!

How else can I take it when the problem magically becomes mine immediately it is referred? Never mind that I am physically unable to respond, much less help at the time. If the service benchmark waiting time is in danger, you get the case transferred to us when a junior is the only person available. How dare you say that you're doing your job? Want peopledielosebillionswhilegettingassrapedbyrabidtasmaniandevil izzit?

Junior summore, understand? You know what is junior or not?! Less experience, less training. Seen less, knows less, can do less. Less even than you. How can you profess to put the customer first while fobbing him/her/it off onto less-skilled members of our workforce? What if the situation goes badly and senior staff are occupied elsewhere?

Of course, that is not YOUR problem: OUR department mah....

You were junior once. What happened to your professional courtesy? Did your seniors in other departments abuse you like this? Is this your sick, twisted revenge on a system that pounds a rusty nail into your head every single day?

Did your early career consist of life not giving you lemons, but shoving the whole thorny tree up your ass and then rubbing salt into the whole leafy, bleeding mess?

If (time)<(enough), THEN (junior)+(client)+(plink)+(our dept)=(get screwed with a stiff wire brush)x(infinity)

So, you win izzit?


The Blog(u) 18: Love and Hate

plink stirred absently at her drink as she thought about that. ‘How do people go crazy when they see Hate?’
‘Maybe it’s better if we come out of your imagination to show you.’
And suddenly, plink found herself sat at the bottom of some stairs. A kind young woman in black, sat two steps behind, was tending to plink’s long hair with a brush. Her hair was in turn being expertly brushed by another, haloed woman in white. The stairs led from the ground to a cosy house on stilts surrounded by a blogfield teeming with the twinkling lights of ideas.
‘Who are you?’
Love,’ said one.
‘And Hate,’ said the other. Then her expression became mysterious, ‘Or am I Love and she Hate?’
‘I can never remember,’ confessed the first.
‘Which one of you is which?’ demanded little plink, not a little apprehensively.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ said the one in black calmly as she brushed plink’s long tresses. ‘We have worked together so long it hardly matters.’
plink looked back again and saw, with some surprise, that Love and Hate had changed places. The haloed one expertly weaved a comb through plink’s dark hair as she spoke.
‘Some days, we even complete one another’s sentences.’
‘Wait,’ said plink and she suddenly found herself uppermost of the three with a brush in her hand. ‘This is all very nice, but what has it got to do with me?’ she paused. ‘Do you know you have split ends?’
‘Yes,’ came the weary reply, ‘occupational hazard. It’s a very busy life being Love and Hate. There just never seems to be enough time for hair care any more.’
‘But what about me?’
The haloed head in front of her bobbed slightly. ‘I was just coming to that. You needed some help and we just happened to be there.’
‘I suppose you could call it that,’ plink heard the implied smirk in the voice of the one in black. ‘Well, not really,’ she corrected herself. ‘You were making so much noise that we had to see for ourselves.’
‘When the four evils had control over me?’
‘Yes.You are safe for now.’
plink thought about that while she began to work her brush through the haloed hair of the one in white once more. ‘How do I get rid of the four evils?’ she asked.
‘What’s everyone been telling you?’
‘Am I ready to blog?’
‘Weren’t you always?’
plink paused. It had never occurred to her that she might have been ready to start despite the four evils. ‘And what of the four evils?’
‘Practice’ said Love.
‘You will develop your own style with practice,’ explained Hate. ‘With your style, you will bring the four evils under control.’
‘plink, you’re not the first person to make this journey.’
Then she understood. One day, she would conquer her fear, her doubt, her tendency towards verbiage and bombast. It might take a lot of practice and hard work, but she would get it right one day.
‘There is of course, one last thing you must do.’ And plink found herself at the foot of the stairs again, with Love gently finishing her hair. ‘You must return to the Forest of Blogs. There are yet things for you to learn there.’

10 December 2005

From kindness comes greatness

Every so often (of late, much less often) we get something to cheer about. The news of Nicol David becoming World Champion has been one such occasion. There's a little something about how it all began that might be of interest.
An article in The Star (not another 5-star-rated publication) showed us Nicol's first racquet. Not to be sniffed at, this was a custom-built effort. The builder? None other than the local association president himself.
He didn't have to do it. He was in no way obliged to hand-make a squash racquet from the wreckage of others. There was no way he could have known what was to come of his endeavour.
Yet, he went ahead and made one.
Our lesson (and song) for today: 'I believe that children are our future, teach them well and let them lead the way.'
Let us nurture talent. When we do so, our children will learn of compassion, of sacrifice and of love. Let them learn, let them love, let them live.

08 December 2005

One more week

One more week.

And I'll be getting two off for Christmas holidays. Feels like I've earned it too. If it was literally possible to work my a$$ off, I'd have a bottom to be proud of.
As things stand, I am looking forward to Christmas with pMom, pDad and pSib. Thank the heavens!

One more week!

Aside from the family gathering and whatnot, there's going to be the obligatory trip up North, to catch up with cousins, uncles, aunts, grandparents and the like. This means Pulau Pinang (Yay!) and Taiping (Yay!). To all my (six or seven) readers, if you live up north, it won't just be Santa Claws that's looking to see if you've been bad or good. And I'll be there in person too! :)
Folks in the Klang Valley won't be spared either, especially if you spend any time at all in 1Utama. It'll be nice to actually have nothing to do, for once.
Get that: Nothing. Goyang kaki only!

One more week....

I might be good, I might be bad. Those of you who know me personally can easily predict which. If you don't know me personally, do speculate. I'm curious to see how everybody else sees me. Honest!

One more week. Why does it have to be so short, yet feel so unbearably long?

07 December 2005

The Blog(u) 17: The Beach

Warm wet sand, as white and pure as driven snow, squeaked joyfully underfoot as the lovers walked along the beach. The sunlit shore where land and sea came together was a serene kind of place. The surf did not so much pound as roll quietly, almost respectfully, towards the two figures.
plink stood looking out to sea, ankle-deep in its cool, clear water. As the sea retreated, it pulled the sand from between plink’s toes and tickled her feet familiarly. plink sighed contentedly as Love put his arms around her waist and held her close. ‘I wish we could be like this always,’ she whispered. Then she paused. Something was not right.
Her toes, they were the problem. They were too long. And her feet, they were too large. plink’s legs went on forever. She was too tall. Then there were the curves. plink gasped in shock as she found that she was now an altogether different shape.
Love watched in tolerant amusement as the young woman sprang out of his embrace and started to look at herself. As she looked over one shoulder to see how her bottom was now shaped, plink saw him smiling. ‘Did you have anything to do with this?’ she demanded.
‘Not at all,’ he replied urbanely, kissing her hand. plink did not know which was the greater shock, being kissed or the fact that her fingers were long and delicate.
‘But how…?’
Love placed a gentle finger on her lips. ‘This is all your imagination. What you are here is who you are.’
‘I’m a beautiful young woman?’
‘With hair as dark as ravenswing and eyes of living mystery, if you like clichés.’
‘And you?’
‘I am real, but I’m really two people.’
‘Excuse me?’
‘What’s the last thing you remember?’
plink let her memory wander back over the confusion of the last few days. There were indistinct half-memories, vague impressions of having done some things and met some people. Suddenly, she remembered the badlands just outside the city where she had met the Jedi Master Viewtru. She went suddenly cold as she remembered the confrontation with Fear, Doubt, Verbiage and Bombast. ‘I think I need to sit down,’ she said, struggling to sound calm.
plink walked further up the beach, with Love gently holding her close. They found a little hut with a table and two chairs inside. On the table were two open coconuts with drinking straws poking invitingly up from inside.
‘You set a good table,’ Love complimented her.
plink smiled wanly as she took her seat. The last memory that came clearly to her was the vast swarm of lights coming from the four, the memory of a battle lost.
‘What happened afterward? After they got me, I mean.’
Love took a long drink of coconut juice, his brows knitting together in concentration. ‘This really is quite nice,’ he smiled. ‘In the grip of the four evils, you wrote comments and entries in the blogosphere.’
‘Was that all?’
‘Ah, but you did so in a poorly thought, uncontrolled fashion. Remember the power they turned on you?’
‘That power, your power, was let loose on the blogosphere. The devastation was horrific. Intelligent discourse was blocked, debates got sidetracked and it’s a wonder that you didn’t start any flamewars while you were at it.’
‘And how do you fit into all of this?’
‘I am Love.’
plink laughed. ‘I know, but I’ve seen your face somewhere before. I know you.’ She began to look around him from one direction and then another, trying to remember just who Love was.
His brow creased in that delightful way again. ‘Stop that, this is important.’
‘So everyone keeps telling me. It would be easier if you weren’t so strikingly handsome.’
‘Flattery, plink?’
‘I could spend a lifetime looking into your eyes, Love.’ As plink gazed into his eyes, she felt love and a little something else. Before she could make out what it was, he closed them.
‘plink,’ he sighed. ‘To gaze too deeply in the eyes of Love is to invite madness.’
‘So people say, but why?’
‘I am also Hate.’

06 December 2005

Where have all the young ones gone?

This week, we'll be losing two of our best juniors, not to another department. They won't even be going to another employer. Our lucky two are leaving to totally different fields altogether.
It's a bit like having pharmacists going to train as dentists or dentists as doctors. Or a gifted tax lawyer running away to do criminal law.
Although no one field or profession is better than any other, it does seem a shame for people who are good at what they do to run away (or be forced away) to do something else. Something a little easier to get into, with an easier lifestyle.
It's not uncommon either. Of the people I worked with as a junior, almost all are in different, related fields now. This can only be good for the people involved, but how do we stem the loss of good people?
Why do we make life so difficult that people would sooner walk than carry on?

02 December 2005

The Blog(u) 16: The Hall of The King

'Majesty,' The messenger looked a little wild about the eyes, but The King knew what he was going to say.
'Majesty,' the messenger appeared a little shaken, but pulled himself together with obvious difficulty.
'Majesty,' the messenger took a deep breath and genuflected again: he would have fallen over otherwise.
'The beast has been subdued, oh my king,' he was finally able to say. 'Four sorcerers were needed, such was its power. Whole tracts of Your Majesty's blogtrees have been ravaged by this thing.'
ElviSia straightened on his throne. 'I would behold this monster.'
'Yes, my king,' replied the messenger. 'Even now do the four bring their vanquished foe in bondage before you.'
The vast doors at the end of the throne room swung slowly open. A blue, ghostly light shone through the growing gap. The chamber was suddenly silent as four figures marched a fifth through the assembled masses.
The four were obviously sorcerors. White robes etched in gold and edged in black clothed the most powerful wizards of the realm. The golden words seemed to burn as their prisoner was delivered up to the throne.
Golden words also flickered and burned across the rumpled white smock that clothed the evil one. Bound up in heavy chain, blue fire and golden words, the evil one was shockingly small. The King looked more closely at the thing that had ravaged so much of the blogosphere. It appeared to be a young child, but for a most un-childlike egotism and contempt that emanated from it.
The evil one raised its gaze to meet his and its smirk spoke volumes. Dark eyes aglow with unholy power, it grinned. The expression was a grotesque caricature, full of long dripping fangs. Seeing that people recoiled in horror, the evil one laughed.
It was a chilling sound, starting out as a low, malicious chuckle. The sound was indistinct at first, like the faint murmuring of the wind. It swelled with a slow, self-satisfied rhythm, perversely pleasing to the ear. A shocked gasp ran through the crowd as the monster laughed louder yet, in two, three, then four voices at once.
A firm wrench of the chains brought the evil one to its knees. Fangs bared, it snarled defiance in its many voices at the King.
The matter hung there for a long moment. The evil that roared and slavered in the centre of the throne room was guarded by a mage for each of the four winds. Each of these, the most powerful sorcerors in the land, muttered the endless spell that bound the little horror in chains, fire and words.
Four heavy chains of blackest iron were kept in the hands of the mightiest magicians of all. Yet, such was the evil that sweat stood out on their brows as they laboured to contain it.
Then it happenned. Standing effortlessly, the little evil seemed to shudder grotesquely. From nowhere, a cloud of grey moths appeared and enveloped the little figure.
Suddenly the blue flames went out in a vast explosion. Blazing gold letters sprayed everywhere, felling the exhausted wizards in a hail of fractured magic.
Standing free in a ring of fire, the evil one cracked another fang-toothed grin at the king. Then it advanced on the throne, its tiny footsteps shaking the whole chamber.
'Halt. Go no further,' commanded two voices in unison. Stepping between evil and the King, one figure in white and one in black confronted it.
'You cannot stop me,' snarled the evil one. Grey moths swirled in the air, bringing the suffocating quality of doom with them.
The following confrontation was titanic. Thundering detonations and blinding flashes of all colours assaulted the senses. Lightning raked the stone floor and granite shards pelted all and sundry. Terrified courtiers fled to the doors even as the King's bodyguard bore him to safety..
As the evil one turned to follow, both the figures in white and in black struck home. Brightly burning talismans stuck fast over the eyes of shrieking evil.
The ones in white and in black moved one last time, laying their hands almost gently on their adversary's forehead. Their touch flung the evil one spinning across the chamber, against one of the great doors.
There was a great explosion. A great wall of fire swept back into the hall, a rapidly advancing tide of burning red heat. Then as suddenly as it began, the fireball vanished.
They had won. No more grey moths befouled the air. The stink of doom had gone. It was done.
Torn from its hinges by that last great explosion, the great door was a scattered heap of mangled steel and wood splinters. The four weary sorcerors and the two unnamed went to the wreckage. In it they found a little figure dressed in a white peasant smock. The little girl was curled up with her eyes staring blankly in terror, twitching occasionally.
As they drew closer, they heard her whisper, 'I'm so sorry.'

01 December 2005

Somebody whacked me with Tongkat Irony!

Earlier today, someone asked me, 'Where do we go for lunch, Your Wryness?'

I, wry? What did I do to deserve the name?

Am I really that evil/twisted/bitter/cynical? I AM NOW!

Right, that's it! Them's Fightin' Words!

The Blog(u) 15: The King of the Hall

'Thankyou. Thankyouverruhmuch,’ said the King. His Majesty waved at the adoring crowds briefly before his stretch limousine whisked him away. In the distance, he could hear the voice announce over the loudspeakers, ‘ElviSia has left the building.’
Life was lonely at the top, but it did have its perks. One of the big performers of the blogosphere, The King was a master of digital reality alteration. Aided by his faithful crew, his stage act was a resounding success, drawing huge crowds every time. In particular, Mr. Foh To Shorpe, his Visual Effects supervisor and the burly Spaniard Senor Humare worked their magic to let him perform his own.
Speeding home to his keep, or rather, ranch, The King thought about his next act. His Majesty was adjusting his quiff and sideburns when the telephone rang. It was his Chief of Security with bad news.
‘Things are bad, O King. There is a monster rampaging through the bloglands and none can stop it. Your Majesty we are preparing the greatest possible efforts and an escort will bring you safely home.’
The King quietly thanked him and started to brood once more. Absently adjusting his sequined lapels and jeweled sunglasses, ElviSia wondered who or what this thing was.

What did it want?