Of Being A Nerd

Overlooking the Leeds River at sundown


It’s Thursday night and that means tomorrow will be my last day in Leeds. This will be my last training course for the year. I must say, this one has got to be the most dullest and errr.. (went off to do a Google search on a particular word), yes, crummiest one of them all.

There could be several reasons for this:-

1) This is a nerd’s course (What am I saying? Nerds rule!)

2) There are absolutely no females on this course (Oestrogen-defficient)

3) The course is based on a mail server system developed by a very massive and unpopular multi-million-dollar cooperation (do a Google search on anti-trust lawsuit)

4) The trainer may have made a pass at me on the first day (*shivers*)

5) My unpredictable and diabolical immune system (so what else is new?)


Now before I go on, nerds and geeks are NOT the same thing.

Nope. Nein. Nada. Tidak.

Let’s put it in a slightly different perspective. I always like to use an analogy when it comes to issues like this (I’m such a nerd) especially when I’m trying to make a point of something.

If you drive a Renault Megane, you wouldn’t go around saying you have a Laguna.

Other people might say, “Megane? Laguna? It’s a bloomin’ Renault! They’re both French! They’re both the same!”

Would you agree to that?

No, I didn’t think so.

(at least to some level I hope)

The word “nerd” first appeared back in 1950, in Dr. Seuss' If I Ran the Zoo, where it referred to a small humanoid creature who looked comically angry.

Nerds love being graded, because their key characteristic is that they are, or (and this is important) act like they are, smarter than average.

A geek’s interest (or geekiness) will often be limited to a particular subject or domain, say audiovisual equipment instead of chicks in high school, whereas a nerd will have a depth of interest in any subject beyond that of the average Joe; giving him a superhuman ability to both frighten and bore people. Haha!

The main reason of this post, for example; to make a distinction between words most people are just as happy to use interchangeably, might indicate a certain nerdiness on the part of its writer; yes, yours truly (as if you don’t already know that).



A very long week of training


I mean, from my own observations, geeks tend to be neat freaks. I once ventured into a Computer Programmers’ class by mistake and my God, their desks are so tiday… and clean. Their mobile phones and PDAs are placed neatly on the desks, parallel to each other. Pens are placed perpendicular to their notepads. Everybody was wearing extremely clean shirts and trousers/jeans and extremely well-groomed. Some of them have pens neatly tucked on their shirt pockets; sorted according to the order of colour! It was the scariest experience in my entire life; to have entered geeks’ territory. I could swear one of them was laughing at me

Walk into a System Administrators’ class and what would you find? Exactly the same stuff.. minus the freaky neatness and tidiness of course. Mobile phones, PDAs, pens, notepads, chocolate bars, coffee mugs, network cables, used tissues, loose change, etc. all scattered everywhere on the desks... and some on the floor. Some wear scruffy clothing and have really messy hair. Some looks like any other ordinary person, albeit the odd eccentric gadget or gadgets they carry on them, be it two mobile phones or one mobile phone, a PDA and three USB sticks.

Much laid back here; the nerds’ domain.

Yeah, my kinda place.

To sum up then, a geek is like a nerd, but with a particular and ardent interest rather than a nerd's heightened insight into one or many areas. Both share a general obliviousness to current fashion trends and often have a sense of humour... only a mother could love. Awwww.

But in case you haven't heard, nerd's the word, because while he's not necessarily accepted, at least, in the end, he's respected.

And that’s what counts...


...right?



A spotless hotel bedroom mirror


p/s: I have just watched Morgan Spurlock's Supersize Me on Channel 4. Initially, never have I ever wanted a Big Mac so much in my life! After watching the show however, I so much never want another Big Mac in my life ever!

On the road to recovery

Flowers on the dining table


Waiter: Good morning sir, coffee?

Me: Yes please.

Waiter: Good stuff. Err.. I don’t mean to pry or anything... I know it’s none of my business...

Me: Yes?

Waiter: I had a look at your room number.. and noticed that it’s all inclusive. That means dinner is free.

Me: I know that.

Waiter: I just thought that since it’s free… well... you know.

Me: Yeah, I understand what you're trying to say.

Waiter: Let me just bring you the menu again… have a look.. I’m sure you’ll find something you like in there… I mean… it’s already been paid for.

Me: Ok.


Such a nice chap. I probably should have told him that I could only take halal meat and that I have completely exhausted their menu of all vegetarian and seafood meals during the last few times I was here. I should also probaly have told him that I have been unwell for the last couple of days and didn't have the appetite for anything. He seemed very eager to help, and I just didn’t have the heart to tell him. He must be about the same age of me. I wondered if this was only his part-time job.

Speaking of exhaustion, I have been going to the loo more times than I could handle in a day, let alone in a single night. Although I’m feeling much better now, my stomach has taken a toll on things. I haven’t missed a single class yet, and only have today and tomorrow left to go. Let’s just hope that things will improve from here.




Written at the back of a Boots Effervescent Vitamin C 1000mg tube:

WARNING: Excessive consumption may produce laxative effects.



Oh man....

When The Signs Are Clear

A visit to the local pharmacy


When you struggle to wake up in the morning

When the hot shower still feels cold

When you run out of breath after walking for only five minutes

When you could hear your own heart beating

When everything around you seems to be moving very slowly ala The Matrix

When every single joint in your body starts to ache

When you find it very difficult to concentrate on anything

When meals make you feel sick rather than full

When you don’t feel like doing anything apart from sleeping


Your body is just trying to tell you something.


Don't ignore it....


.....listen.



The Lost Codger needs his rest

Learn from your mistakes

As I was driving to Leeds earlier today to attend yet another training course, I can’t help thinking the things that we have to go through every single day of our lives. Some might think of it as something pretty mundane, but if you really think about it, each day is actually different.



Driving on the M1


You wake up in a different position, you brush your teeth in a slightly different style, you look at yourself in the mirror in a different pose, you step out of your front door at different times, etc.

Sometimes you have good days and sometimes you have bad days. Sometimes you have half and half. Sometimes you have a whole week of good days and the rest of the month of bad days.

As unfair and crappy as that may sound to a number of people, those are the things that make life as it is, interesting.

Imagine a whole day where everything is just perfect, and everything becomes very repetitive…. until you die of complete and utter boredom. Would that be an ideal way to experience life?

How would you appreciate the little things?

How would you understand the value of certain things?

How would you learn the important things?



A break at the services


Learn from your mistakes.

You've probably heard this many times before and it's actually very good advice. But what about the times when you're not making mistakes or you're not aware of any but, as we know, there are always things to learn? Sometimes mistakes don't show up until we decide there's been a failure.

At this point, you can look back to identify the mistakes and learn from them. But what about when you're in the middle of things and all appears to be going well? Perhaps your business is running fairly successfully, your career is progressing steadily or your home life seems stable and settled. You may not be making any obvious mistakes, but there are probably many things you could learn to improve or seek to become excellent at doing.

So, where do you start? You need to be aware of any potential mistakes you could be making and for this; you need to be open to learning. When you're open to learning, you may well prevent future mistakes by nipping them in the bud. Be open to clues and messages around you; listen to what others are saying, read more and listen to your intuition.

Then, instead of immediately jumping to the conclusion that this isn't relevant to you, or telling yourself that you already do something as well as you can, look for ways of improving and how this message can be relevant to you. We can learn a lot from others' mistakes, their thoughts, their ideas and actions to shorten the learning curve for ourselves. There are opportunities around us and we need to be open to receiving them and willing to act upon them.



Checking in at the hotel


Be open to more clues and messages, especially ones that could shorten your learning curve or correct potential mistakes. Instead of justifying any of it to yourself, just open up and ask, "What, if anything, can I learn from this?" Listen to your responses and choose what to do about them.

Having had your share of mistakes, learn from them, but more importantly never (or at least try to) do them again.

No doubt some may have to go through making mistakes more times than they should. It may be worse when a family member or a very close friend is involved. You will be able to share the pain and anguish they go through. But would you actually want that?

As much as we try to help them out, they must be willing to receive help in the first place, and that takes a lot of pride and acceptance. Trying to give help to someone who refuses it is like offering a nicotine patch to a smoker who doesn’t want to quit.

We can only hope that they will eventually learn from their mistakes, before any permanent damage is done.

As for me, I’ve made a lot of mistakes, I must admit. I’ve learnt a great deal from them. There’s no denying that I will make more in times to come.

Hey, that's how I learn to really value and appreciate the little things.

But more importantly....



....no regrets.




Smiling in the mirror

The Sigficance of Inanimate Objects

My mum gave a ring to me years ago when I was about to depart to the UK. I was barely 18 then. She said that I should wear it all the time so that whenever I feel down or lost, the ring would remind me that she would be there for me all the time.

I didn’t take it into heart initially. I thought it was a bit weird to be seeking comfort from an inanimate object, let alone a small silver ring. I didn’t even fancy the pattern back then.

Over the years of being a student in the UK, the ring was subjected to a mixture of attention and neglect. When I was happy and cheerful, the ring would be lost somewhere in my pile of junk or in a storage box in the closet. I would carry on with my mundane everyday tasks and pursuits until I completely forgot about the ring. Strangely, I would come across the ring again, when I needed it the most.





As I entered employment back in 1998, the ring was lost again. By this time, I was 23 and was extremely eager to get myself established in the UK. I was very young and had nothing to lose.

Things were tough at first and I had to settle for an unfurnished studio flat in the outskirts of Hertfordshire. I had to use a sleeping bag, which was inherited from my elder sister, as I couldn’t even afford to buy a bed yet back then. I remembered the countless cold nights where I would be staring at the ceiling wondering how my life would turn out in the following weeks, months and even years. I began to think of my sole purpose of staying behind in the UK, whereas all my friends decided to go back home to start their lives.

A year passed by and there were no significant changes, at least none of the ones that I wanted. I thought that it was a good time to go home. After all, I had given it my best and the experience was more then plentiful.

My employers didn’t want to let me go and offered me better pay. I was reluctant at first because I thought I had enough taste of working in the UK. I agreed to extend my employment for a further six months, and after that went by, for another six months.





By this time, the change that I sought had materialised. The year 2000 marked a significant time for me.

And it was then, that I made the decision to permanently reside in the UK.

I moved to central London and found my ring again. I began to realise the significance of this ring. I can only assume that my mum had intended to be that if I were to be so far away and become successful one day, I would never forget who it was that made it possible for me to be there in the first place. I'm sure everybody out there has a similar inanimate object that they hold close to their hearts.

Five years have gone by now. I’ve got my own place, I’m the head of my department, and I’m earning pretty well. My employers provide me with a mobile phone and company car. I can afford fancy clothes and high-tech gadgets. I have everything that I could ever need.

And yet, these are the things that matters least to me.

The change that I had sought all this time, never really materialised.

I thought it did for a little while, but perhaps I wasn’t ready then....


....or did it?








Somebody told me today that the blog world is a place for tortured souls.

Could that be true? Is that why I'm still here?


I’m really hoping....


....for another change.

I've had enough!

A person can only put up with so much...


.... it ends here.

The Life of a Bee

There is no denying that spring is finally here. One would take a walk in the nearby park and see a few bees buzzing from flower to flower; doing what comes naturally to them.

As a friend once (or twice?) told me, the bees collect nectar, which is a sweet sticky substance discharged by most flowers and mix it with saliva in their mouths. Their saliva works just like ours; it helps break down the sugars found in food. This nectar and saliva mix is stored in hexagonal wax honeycomb until the water content has been reduced significantly. At this stage, it looks just like the honey that we eat.

This may sound wonderful and beautiful, and no doubt it would be a shame not to be in any part of it. Despite this, the life of a single bee, believe it or not, is actually short... and brutal.





The life span of a bee depends on the season. In the winter, a bee can live for up to four months. In the summer however, it lives for only about three weeks. It is during this time that when there is a lot of nectar around, it works itself to death. Its wings get all raggedy and it can no longer fly.

The nectar is stored in the hive to allow the Queen to last out the winter. Should there be any stronger and fitter bees that made it through the whole summer months, they will be ejected from the hive... and will eventually die in the autumn.

The point is, once a bee has done its duty, it no longer serves any purpose and just... R.I.P.

A Queen bee, ironically, lives up to four years.





As much as how tragic and dreadful it all may seem...


...I actually envy that bee.

Stressed

!£"!$%$%^*(*(~@:£!"$%"!£$^%£%£"%(*&@£!!!


Shall I jump in? Shall I? Shall I?


But I just got this new suit!


Shall I?


Oneeeee.... twooooooooooooooooo...


Huhuhuhuhhuhuhuhuhuhhhh.... (psyching self out)


Hmmm... my shoes look manky from this height.



*sigh*



p/s: Note to self - must get a new toy pronto

And Three's A Crowd

“Take a look at this.”

James shoved his shiny new Motorola V975 into my face. He had just got this new flip mobile phone. I was beginning to feel “phone-envy”. Note to self: time to get a new mobile phone.

As much as I would like to admire the fine silver aluminium case with gunmetal trimmings, I can’t help but notice that he had the picture of his new girlfriend, Hillary, on the phone for wallpaper.

“Look at the quality of the picture. Notice the pixels.”

I tried to find the flaws he mentioned but was too distracted by the picture of the pretty girl smiling back at me.

“Now look at this one.”

He shoved another phone into my face. This time, it was his old Sharp GX30. As I glazed my eyes onto the small 65,000-colour screen, lo and behold, was a picture of his girlfriend again, in a very… err… “girlish” pose.

“Much sharper isn’t it? Look at the colours too.”

“Yes”, I thought to myself. “Definitely more pink in this one”.
(pink being the colour of the skin)

I was beginning to wonder which bit he was trying to show off to me; his new phone or his pretty girlfriend. Oh well, some guys can have both I guess.

James wasn’t too happy with his new phone. The fact that he found a chip, the size of a grain of salt, made it even worse. He wanted a replacement. He demanded one.

“Are you ready to order?”, the elderly Chinese waiter with retro Elvis Costello-style glasses came out of from nowhere, startling the both of us from our comfy bench-style seats. I could swear he would have had some bones broken then had I just have two more cups of coffee earlier.

James took the liberty of ordering, in Cantonese of course. He knows I can only have seafood and vegetarian dishes.

Ten minutes later, our order arrived. Fried and salted squid in batter, king prawn in black bean sauce with cashew nuts, mixed vegetables and tofu, complimented by two bowls of steamed rice. I can assure you, the food was definitely plentiful.

Just like any other strapping young lads, we didn’t waste any time letting the food get cold. As we were half-way through our MSG-laden feast, Hillary walked in through the front entrance.

“I’m going home now”, she sulked.

“Why? What's wrong? Come and sit down”, James retorted.

“I’m not hungry. I want to go home early.”

Hillary had just finished her piano class. James has been escorting her for the past two weeks.

“Ok, I’ll send you home. But come and have a seat first.”

“No I really want to go home now. You guys enjoy your dinner.”

“Yes sure, but just have a seat. I’ll send you home soon.”

This awkward sport carried on for a further two minutes before James finally managed to persuade Hillary to sit down. He’s good. I should take notes. Damn where’s my notepad?

James and I carried on with our dinner while Hillary just sat down and had Chinese tea. Unlike James, Hillary is mixed. Most of the time we would talk about the differences in our language, culture and food.

I also noticed that since Hillary had sat down, James had been in constant physical contact with her. I’m pretty sure I know where his hand went under the table when it’s not holding the chopstick.

Yes, how so very awkward. And there I was pretending I didn’t see any of it. Hmmm, there sure was a lot of MSG in that veggie.

This “hidden” sport became more energetic as James reached the end of his meal. Well, both his hands became free then.

The fact that they continue to have a normal conversation with me over the table, made an awkward and embarassing situation even worse. I can now feel something definitely happening underneath the table as somehow or rather, my leg was rigorously brushed, probably been mistaken for somebody else’s.

Oh dear.

I tried to keep cool and took another sip out of my over-brewed Chinese tea.

I was able to sense that they both could use a room right about then.

James signalled for the bill.


It's true what they say....


Two's a company....

It's Good To Talk

(phone ringing)





(A lady with a mellow and croaky voice answers)

Lady: Hello.

Me: Hey it’s me. You ok?

Lady: Hmmm....

Me: You sound really down. Is everything ok?

Lady: No, not really.

Me: What’s wrong? You can tell me.

Lady: Well, why do YOU feel down?

Me: Oh, that.. well... yeah.


(talk went on further about how crappy things are)


Lady: *making shuffling sounds*

Me: Eh? Hello? Hello?

Lady: *more shuffling sounds*

Me: Hello? You still there? Hello?

Lady: Can you hear me?

Me: Ya, are you trying out your new Bluetooth headset?

Lady: No, it’s this new phone. I don’t like it.

Me: Aha, you like your Samsung better?

Lady: Yeah a LOT better.

Me: How so?

Lady: Well this one is bulky and heavier. And to access the power button you have to swing it open which is a NO-NO!


(talk went on to further criticise the phone)


Lady: I’m thinking of going back soon. Haven’t been back for a while.

Me: Ya, sounds like a good idea. Have you booked a ticket yet?

Lady: No. Haven’t seen any good offers.

Me: Ya, I’m looking for some good offers as well. I’ll let you know if I come across any.

Lady: Ok, thanks.


(talk went on further about holidays)


Me: *turning to the computer*

Lady: What are you doing?

Me: I’m putting on your favourite song.

Lady: Eh? What’s that then?

Me: Hang on a sec...


(Cindai starts playing on the computer)


Lady: Ah... she’s got a really nice voice.

Me: Really? I think it’s pretty normal. I think your voice is much better.

Lady: Haha only you would say that!

Me: No, really, I do think yours is a LOT better.

Lady: *giggling* Stop it.


(turns the volume up)


Me: *humming to the song* (not knowing the lyrics)

Lady: *starts singing along faintly*

Me: *humming some more*

Lady: *becoming more confident and sings along louder*

Me: *starts making fool of self by raising pitch of voice and singing*

Lady: Hihihihihihihihihihhhh!!!


(continues on until the song ends)


Lady: Hihihihihihihihihihihhihihihhihi!!!

Me: You really like that don’t you?

Lady: Hihihihiihihihihihihhihihi!!

Me: Hehehehehehehehe!!!

Lady: *gasps for air*

Me: You ok?

Lady: Ya. I just seem to enjoy laughing at people’s misfortune.

Me: Well it’s okay in this occasion.

Lady: What’s that sound?

Me: Oh, I’m in the kitchen now. Preparing dinner.

Lady: Okay, I’ll leave you to it then.

Me: You working tonight? Have you had any sleep?

Lady: Ya. I slept quite late last night.

Me: Okay then. Hope it’s not too bad.

Lady: Thanks.

Me: Take care.

Lady: You too.


*click*



Me: *sends an SMS* Hope you feel a bit better now. :)

Lady: *replies to SMS* Hehehehe. I hope you do too.








Every cloud has a silver lining...


... is there such a thing?

Of Being "Nice"

I decided to take a stroll at the nearby park earlier today. A few things were going through my head. I was feeling kind of depressed and was desperately in need of some cheering up. The last time I went to the park, I was extremely overjoyed. Alas, it didn't seem to work this time.

Something was definitely missing.

Of late, it seems like everywhere I go, I have to put on this "everything is alright" persona to make people feel comfortable around me. And then if I show any of true self, it is completely uncharacteristic of me from other people's points of view. It just seems like I ALWAYS have to be funny and talkative around other people or they think something is wrong with me. I'm aware that this is very unhealthy.

Bottling up your emotions and only act how others expect you to will do a lot of damage to your emotional state in the end. You'll end up depressed and grumpy because no one understands you. You won't be able to hide how you feel forever. Either you'll get so down that it starts to affect you in other ways or all the contained feelings will explode in some way that you may end up regretting. It's better to express yourself now then wait and let things get worse.





The problem is, how do you express yourself? Who do you talk to? Your close friends? Your family? Total strangers? The homeless living under the train bridge? The Good Samaritan Helpline? Will they be ok with the "real" you?

Hmmmm......



On a side note, there sure were a lot of couples making out in the park. One would expect they would try to be as subtle as possible with the presence of children and old age pensioners loitering around. But heck no! They were really lashing it out at each other like nobody’s business! As much as I would like to find a comfy spot on the grass to sit down and be a silent spectator to this rather intriguing sport, I was let down by my own pulsating bladder.

As I exited the park to rush back to my flat, I looked up and noticed this road sign, grinned sheepishly and increased my pace.





We're only human after all...


...aren't we?

The Camera Can Lie

It's yet another Saturday afternoon and I found myself engaged in the kitchen preparing what everyone would typically be calling a “bachelor’s meal”.

The photos come out really well against the black background, which is peculiar when “black” is quite commonly known as somewhat a grave colour.

One would look at the photos and assume that I’m a good cook. Like almost everything else in this world; appearances can be very deceiving.

Why is it that when a person is joyful and happy, he or she would project exactly that, in the form of a smile, a laughter or in some occasions, a bit of humming and perhaps even some singing? But when a person is unhappy beyond their deepest misery, he or she would tend to hide that from everybody else?

Everyone can fake a smile or laughter, but whom in their right mind would want to fake lament?

What is it about expressing grief and sorrow that we hold off from the public?

Why?

Is it due to the fact that it is a sign of weakness? Could it be that one dislikes the attention or fuss that it would generate? Do one fear of being responsible in case it spreads to others?




Hmmm...

....perhaps a walk in the park would do me some good.




In the meantime, Sardine Fried Rice anyone?







HaHaAH HhaH haHAHA HA haHA H AHAHAHha aAHHA haAa hA hA HAHha HAHAHa hA Ha ha HAHA HA Ha hA A HahaH ah Hha HAAHAHa A AHaH H AHA ahhAHa AHAhaHAHA AH HA A HA HA HA HAHA haHA HhAHA HA H hAHAH HAHAAH!!!!!!!

Melancholy Mood

Raindrops on my window


Sitting by my window, it’s a wonder I’m still sane
Watching tiny raindrops kissing my window pane
Wondering if the rain will be here all day
Or will the sun drive the rain clouds away?


Thoughts of my past in my head are looming wild
Of times playing in the rain when I was a child
Amazed I am how fast the years have gone by
Tears are in my eyes and I have an idea why.


This dark chilly and rainy interlude
Has placed me into a melancholy mood
Hopefully the sun’s shine will soon resume
And replace the rain and take away my gloom.




I hope so...

Of being the bus driver

Part of being good at your job is to make sure that everyone actually knows and understands what it is that you’re good at.

If you happen to be a dentist, people will generally understand that you are good at fixing or healing tooth and gum-related problems.

If you happen to be a professional cyclist, people will know that you are extremely fit, understand the concept of aerodynamics and probably be a good mechanic.

If you happen to be a journalist, people will assume you hold the power of language and be able to communicate to thousands of readers through your written work.

In my case, I’m the Head of IT in a medium-sized law firm. I can’t even begin to imagine what goes on the minds of the people whom I told of my job title. For all they know, I could be commanding a fleet of cyborgs with USB sticks as the massive weapon of destruction, downloading everybody's memory content into them, leeching them off their very essence of life.... whoah that would make a very good sci-fi novel (if not a very nerdy one).

Actually, I don’t even know the best way to describe my job myself. Which is why when people ask me what I do, I would say, “Errr.. I fix PCs and stuff”, when this is really not the case. Even my employers (which consist of fourteen partners and growing) have trouble knowing what it is that I exactly do. To make things worse, some of them don’t even remember my job title (tsk tsk tsk).

Most of the time I’m stuck in my office, managing the ten servers that operate our core network infrastructure which facilitates our file and print services, our email, our Internet access and our core applications.

Before I even begin to explain what that last paragraph means, I shall stop here. This is exactly the problem. Try saying that to the average Joe Bloggs walking down the high street.

“Yes, I manage ten servers that operate our core network infrastructure which facilitates our file and print services, our email, our Internet access and our core applications.”

“You DO what NOW?”

Through my years of experience in the industry, I found that if I needed to explain something which is technically complex in plain English, I would try to tell it in comparison to everyday common scenarios; in the form of an analogy.

For example, the other day when I tried to explain the concept of bandwidth restriction to a solicitor when he wanted to be able to download movies using our mundane internet connection;


*takes a deep breath*

“Our internet connection speed is like the flow of cold water and bandwidth is the size of the actual pipe where the water goes through. If we have a large pipe, the flow of water would be fast and if the pipe was small, the flow would be slow. The same thing would apply if say you are in a household with ten sinks. If everybody would turn their taps on, the flow of water would be trickling. As soon as one turns off their tap, the flow would improve and gets better as and more more taps are turned off. Imagine the effect it would have if somebody decided to flush the toilet. This is then compared to our internet connection speed and the amount of users that we have. Downloading movies would have a similar effect to flushing the toilet.”

*exhales*

Believe me, it works.

Going back to our original problem, how do I explain what it is that I do?

I took me several nights to come up with this, but I finally managed to come up the “bus driver” analogy.




TO BE CONTINUED...

The end of Hulk

Right, the Hulk end theme was beginning to annoy me...

Thought I'd try a different tune tonight...

Good-bye Hulk.... no noo ne noooooo.. no no ne noooooo... no no ne noo nooo ne noooooo....

Dear Britney....

Dear Britney,

You don’t know me but I am one of your hidden undisclosed greatest fans.

I decided to write to you when I saw the news on telly this morning on your recent pregnancy announcement.





First and foremost, I would like to congratulate you on the success of all your released albums. They did rather well despite all the media rumours and gossips. I would also like to congratulate you on your acting debut in “Crossroads”. I think you performed really well for your first major movie role. And lastly, congratulations on getting pregnant.

When your first single, “Baby One More Time”, was first released back in 1999, I had just started my first job in the UK as Technical Support. I’m a foreigner you see so it was really difficult to enter employment over here. Boy, that was a really tough year. Anyway, back then, I couldn’t see what all the commotion was about, especially how people got all excited to see a girl in a school uniform gallivanting away in the hallway. Perhaps the music video was targeted towards paedophiles; who knows. I didn’t take a fancy to your debut single.

It was not until you released your second single, “Sometimes”, that I was mesmerised. The song really meant something to me then and you really looked cute in the musicvideo! From then on I made an effort to keep track of all your songs. They kept me company during those long cold winter nights the time I spent alone in my flat in the Hertfordshire countryside. The farm animals there were very fond of your songs and would collate at my bedroom window each time I put on your CD.

I had my own personal blog at the time (we call them “online journals” back then and I had to write everything from scratch using plain HTML; there were no such things as templates!) and decided to pay tribute by developing a whole page dedicated just to you. I even defended you the time you were accused of having a boob-job. The media really had a whale of a time with that. Have they not heard of this magical thing called a “push-up bra”? They probably thought it would cause a stirry response from the public if they mock you and hurt you. But I knew you were above all that.





MP3s were getting really popular at the time and although I have all your songs in this form, I actually parted with my hard-earned cash and bought all your CDs; both albums and singles. Does that not mean anything to you?

I was extremely heartbroken when I discovered you were dating that guy from N’Sync. How could you? I later found out that you guys have been together since your “Mickey Mouse Club” days and thought that it was actually sweet. And I know that under the circumstances, it would be impossible for you and me to ever be together. I learnt to forgive you.

With the release of your single called “I’m A Slave 4 U” back in 2001, I became slightly dubious. Not that I don’t fancy looking at your body in hot steamy sweat and you acting like you were suffering from chronic constipation surrounded by your similarly-affected dancers, but I felt that it all seemed a tad bit unnecessary.

What were you trying to proof? That you’ve grown up from that sweet and innocent looking girl and turned into this nymphomaniac lusty sex kitten? Britney, Britney, Britney... did you not know that over 70 percent of your fans were under-aged girls? What were you thinking? Did you NOT know the meaning of being a role model?





You were lucky you had some good songs then like “Overprotected” and “I’m Not A Girl, Not Yet A Woman” on the same album. I was about to let bygones be bygones, but with the release of the videos from your latest album, “In The Zone”, I was massively appalled.

I got the shock of my life when you appeared almost nude in “Toxic” and what were you thinking in “Me Against The Music”? You French-kissed Madonna? EUGHH!!!! Fortunately, I have taken quite a fancy to the song called "Everytime". I thought it was a beautiful song, full of great lyrics, good vocals and a lovely backing track. The video could have been better, but I thought it captured the mood perfectly.

My dearest Britney, I don’t know what was going on your mind at the time. Why is it so important for you to project a sexy image to the public? What happened to the old sweet and innocent little Britney?

I look at you now and see a completely different person.

I realised that this started to happen after you and Justin broke up. He’s happy with Cameron Diaz now (is he still?). Let him go. As wonderful as the person that he is, you have had your moments together and it is time to move on. If this is your way of getting back at him, please stop it. I know it hurts like crazy, but gosh Britney, Limp Bizkit frontman Fred Durst? Rowdy Irish actor Collin Farrell? To make it worse, you married an old childhood friend in early 2004, only to have it annulled a few hours later.

Five months later, you then married Kevin, a man who walked out on his girlfriend when she was still pregnant with his second child. How long have you known this person? Did it ever occur to you that he could possibly be just after your fortune?





Honestly, what were you thinking?

Ok, I can understand that you were probably going through what other women your age would be going through as well. You were thinking of marriage, settling down and have your own kids. Being in constant view of the media probably didn’t help much and what seemed a little pressure initially may have been amplified to the point that logic and reason have no place in that fickle mind of yours.

My dear beloved Britney.

What happened to you?

You deserve much much better than this.





Britney, I have nothing against you. I just hope that one day, you will learn to not let what other people think get to you, to accept yourself for who you are and understand the true value of being with someone who really adores you, who genuinely cares for you and who really loves you.

Until then...

...good luck.



Love always,

iJun



p/s: Could you please send me a life-sized autographed photo of yourself?

Black is in...

... and white is out.

I've always wanted to ditch the white background.

Too bright for my taste.



Let's see if this works for me.

The Lonely Moon

I am lonely like the moon
You are far away as the earth
Now you say I light your thoughts
Night after night
Soon you forget


We are drifting in this dance
I can feel you circle my heart
Keeping such a graceful distance
So close but somehow apart


Sometimes I cry for you
Knowing you don't want me to
Sometimes I whisper to the stars up in the sky


That I want to find the way to your soul
Kiss in the sun when the morning comes
You don't seem to count the hours
When we are not together
I've seen a tender fire in your eyes


Yet when I'm gone you carry on
I float in this emptiness
Till at last love returns
With the night
And the lonely moon


I am lonely like the moon
Always wanting you to be near
I embrace you till the dawn
Then with a smile
You disappear


We continue in our dance
There are times I think it should end
But I lose myself in rapture
And we start all over again


Sometimes I cry for you
Knowing you don't want me to
Sometimes I whisper to the stars up in the sky


That I want to find the way to your soul
Kiss in the sun when the morning comes
You don't seem to count the hours
When we are not together
I've seen a tender fire in your eyes
Yet when I'm gone you carry on
I float in this emptiness
Till at last love returns
With the night
And the lonely moon


I love the warm emotion you bring
Though there is pain, I don't complain
How you can inspire me
Whenever we're together
Every time it's like a new song
You move me so
I think you know
I won't even say a word
In your arms or far from sight
I'll be your light

Like the lonely moon

Late is an understatement

Flashback to 20th March 2005 2:32am

(phone ringing)

(a lady’s voice was overheard on the other end)

Mum: Hello?
Me: Assalamualaikum!
Mum: Waalaikumsalam, eh Ijun!
Me: Hi Mum!
Mum: Happy birthday! Hahaha!
Me: Hehe.. thank you.
Mum: We were just about to call you. What time is it over there?
Me: Oh about half-two in the morning.
Mum: Not asleep yet? Having a party?
Me: No, just didn’t feel like sleeping.
Mum: Oh ok, any plans later?
Me: Er, I may got out for lunch with some friends.
Mum: That sounds nice. Hang on, let me get your father.





(serious hollering overheard in the background)

Dad: Hey son. Happy 30th birthday! Hahahaha!
Me: Thanks Dad! Hehe.
Dad: So you’re 30 now ha? Hahahaha!
Me: Ya.

(uncomfortable silence)

Dad: So how’s work?
Me: Been a bit busy implementing new stuff. But it’s ok.
Dad: I see. Have you lost any weight?
Me: Err, a bit perhaps since the new year.
Dad: That’s good, keep it up.
Me: Thanks Dad.





(more uncomfortable silence)

Dad: Let me pass you back to your mother. Enjoy your day!
Me: Ok Dad! Hehe.

(some shuffling sound overheard)

Mum: Did you get our card or not?
Me: Erm.. nope.





Mum: Eh, we sent it to you last week!
Me: Err.. to my home or work address?
Mum: To your work address.
Me: Well, nothing on Friday. Perhaps tomorrow?
Mum: We posted it early so that you get it on time.
Me: Maybe its just a little late.
Mum: Hmmm.. check with your post room ok, son?
Me: Ok Mum. Will do.
Mum: Anyway, hope you have a nice happy birthday today.
Me: Thanks Mum. Send my love to everyone.
Mum: Will do. You take care, son.
Me: You too Mum. Bye.


*click*

The Italian that went to Malta

Sunday Laundry


It's another lazy Sunday afternoon and a friend reminded me of this old joke that has been around on the internet for some time. I just couldn't resist putting it up here. In some ways, it reminds us how sometimes people can just be....

....misunderstood.




The Italian that went to Malta
------------------------------
(try and put on an Italian accent while reading this)

One day Ima gonna Malta to bigga hotel. Ina Morning I go down to eat breakfast.

I tella waitress, "I wanna two pissis toast."

She brings me only one piss. I tella her, "I want two piss."

She say, "Go to the toilet".

I say, "You no understand. I wanna two piss onna my plate."

She say, "You better not piss on the plate, you sonofabitch!"

I don't even know the lady and she call me sonna ma bitch.


Later I go to eat at the bigga restaurant. The waitress brings me a spoon and knife but no fock.

I tella her, "I wanna fock." She tell me, "Everyone wants a fuck."

I tell her, "You no understand. I wanna fock on the table."

She say, "You better not fuck on the table, you sonafabitch!"

I don't even know the lady and she call me sonna ma bitch!


So I go back to my room inna hotel and there is no shits onna my bed.

I call the manager and tella him, "I wanna shit." He tell me, "Go to toilet."

I say, "You no understand. I wanna shit on my bed."

He say, "You better not shit on the bed, you sonofabitch!"

I don't even know the man and he call me sonna ma bitch.


I go to the checkout and the man at the desk say: "Peace on you".

I say, "Piss on you too, you sonna ma bitch, I gonna back to Italy!"



Arrivederci!

London: The Journey Home

4:32pm
- All set to go! 5th gear on the M62....




4:38pm
- Friday rush hour traffic... *sigh*




6:29pm
- Time for a break... tired and hungry.



6:35pm
- Paid £16.36 for this but didn't care!




6:52pm
- Nobody else seems to be around....




7:01pm
- One of those high-tech toilet flush sensors heh heh....




7:02pm
- "The force is strong with this one..."




7:03pm
- Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!! Let's do that again!




7:11pm
- Oh-uh... looks like it's getting dark...




7:20pm
- Back on the road....




9:03pm
- Almost there now...




9:34pm
- Home sweet home.





...quite a long journey, but it wasn't that bad :)