Penelope Gan

the yellow fever fever ...

2012-01-17T20:11:00.000+08:00

'Drama!' I had thought when I read that safari planning takes a year.

Rather, a good safari planning takes a year.

Rolling my eyeballs, my brain clicked the cynical switch that processed an internal justification for Eugene Fodor's non-spy subordinates that had written it with the all-so-hoity-poity-retiree-Brits or American flare; the very target market for safari go-ers who have saved a lifetime for this lifetime experience - yes, yet another phrase frequently peppered on the pages of "The Comprehensive Guide to African Safari Planning".

Well, naturally I would have concluded that, when one entire page was devoted to 'potty talk' and a third of a page on 'what the heck do you do with your domesticated 4-legged furry 'family' member before you embark on this journey of a lifetime?'.

Point is, say what you want ... judge me.

I simply do not have one year to plan. Heck, in my typical Penelope fashion, I don't even have a month to plan.

So within 3 days I had 'mastered' the 101s of safari ...

what to expect,
what to wear {definitely not Ralph Lauren or any Sophia Loren inspired fashion spreads we have grown up with visualising what safaris are},
what to pack,
what to do with a charging hippo {oh boy, watch Madagascar - Gloria did run a lot in that movie ... and err... she did the rumba too!}, and
what happens when your gaze is locked by the returning gaze of a lion!

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What I hadn't accomplished by then was to get my 'Home Ministry's' {read: mom} "VISA" to scoot off and shake my bon bons in the bush, which I had been assured that even the most impoverish leopard will not be enticed ... hmmm... I am suddenly feeling insulted, while typing this down.

What I hadn't know at point of booking too was there's a distinct difference between a safari operator, tour operator, travel agent and safari ranger.

More embarrassing are the following discoveries:

the BIG 5 does not include giraffes - it doesn't??!?!?? It is BIG, well, tall.
Hippos do live in Africa - not that I knew where they lived in, but I do know Gloria lives in New York!
Hyaenas do not smell, but nonetheless meeting one is no laughing matter...
Leopards and cheetahs are not interchangeable names for those "spotted" feline with super sharp "fangs"; one is a permanent "cry baby" with a tear line "stain" and did you know that leopards looks different depending on which part of Africa they come from? Well, thanks to the shape of their {ahem!} rosettes (that's what they call the 'spots'!)

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The thing that I still can't figure out is: why is the leopard considered a BIG 5 and not the cheetah?

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oooooouch!
As I write this: Self Confession of a Safari Moron, I remembered something: binoculars!!!
great! who has one?

errr... as a matter of fact, I do know of two people who would have them, but how do I ask for a loan. Theirs ain't the Chinatown 'Made in Gemany' type.

Man ... {here's the regretting bit coming ...so brace yourself}

I sooooooooooo should have entered the Leica photo contest. The one I had been bugging H.I.T to compete in but I never gotten around to it purely because I was in my ridiculously impossibly high self esteem state of mind thinking that I should only participate on the 2 months of the calendar year where the prize was a 3-Day Leica Workshop in Londo;, ignoring the months where telescopes, binoculars and Leica X1 camera were the prizes.

But see, you can only win once. And I had no idea why I'd want a telescope or a binoculars. I neither envisaged myself to cultivate a hobby in birding, nor saw myself as a peeping tom. Besides the Leica X1 is a crap camera. There I said it. Yes, I actually uttered that a Leica camera is crap. Happy?

However, back to the point: given the above considerations, I decided to only participate on the two months where the workshops were given but naturally I forgot all about it.

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That aside, the biggest shocker for me was to discover that I must have a Yellow Fever Vaccination Certificate at the 11th hour.

I had thoroughly checked through the "needles" requirements other than Visa needs prior to booking the trip, knowing my distaste for the needles. I had unnecessarily made myself all queasy doing what seem now like a premature yipee-hoop!laa somersault turn in the air when the World Health Organisation website and the local Quarantine and Ministry of Health website had declared the countries I am visiting as non-endemic countries for malaria and yes, yellow fever.

... and then the below appears when I double clicked on the trip's booking document's font size 9 disclaimer nicely tucked at the bottom of the document that seems to go on forever:
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"important notice for those traveling to South Africa"

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As I had extensively berated in the past about the size of disclaimers' fonts that has a reverse co-relation with its importance, I shall spare you that ranting today but say:

thank God for my banking training!!!

With that I have been running my fingers like a headless chicken in search of clinics / hospitals / medical halls / medical centers who could stick a damn needle into me and issue the Yellow Vaccination Certificate pronto. The second shocker of course was to discover the cost of the damn immunisation which though in the nurse's best attempt to sound friendly and encouraging, the fact that the vaccine lasts me 10 years still does not make up for the exhorbitant cost ... not to mention the possible side effects and the number of lead days I have to give to ensure that the vaccine has kicked in and South Africa does not throw me out.

I am already running the yellow fever fever ...

tic toc tic toc ...

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12.1.12: a re-blogging treat for my geeky friends!

2012-01-12T12:12:00.000+08:00

I just came across this amazing post by Christoph Niemann on the NY Times site at:

http://niemann.blogs.nytimes.com/2010/10/25/unpopular-science/

I reproduce it here for your viewing pleasure:

Whether we like it or not, human life is subject to the universal laws of physics.

My day, for example, starts with a demonstration of Newton’s First Law of Motion.

It states, “Every body continues in its state of rest, or of uniform motion in a straight line…”

“…unless it is compelled to change that state by forces impressed upon it.”

Based on supercomplicated physical observations, Einstein concluded that two objects may perceive time differently.

Based on simple life experience, I have concluded that this is true.

Newton's Cradle shows how energy travels through a series of objects.

In our particular arrangement, kinetic energy is ultimately converted into a compression of the forehead.

The forehead can be uncrumpled by a downward movement of the jaw.

Excessive mechanical strain will compromise the elasticity of most materials, though.

The human body functions like a combustion engine. To produce energy, we need two things:

- Oxygen, supplied through the nostrils (once the toy car is removed, that is).

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- Carbohydrates, which come in various forms (vanilla, chocolate, dulce de leche).

By the by: I had an idea for a carb-neutral ice cream.

All you need is to freeze a pint of ice cream to -3706 F.

The energy it will take your system to bring the ice cream up to a digestible temperature is roughly 1,000 calories, neatly burning away all those carbohydrates from the fat and sugar.

The only snag is the Third Law of Thermodynamics, which says it’s impossible to go below -459 F.

Bummer.

But back to Newton: he discovered that any two objects in the universe attract each other, and that this force is proportional to their mass.

The Earth is heavier than the Moon, and therefore attracts our bodies with a much greater force.

This explains why an empty refrigerator administrates a much smaller gravitational pull than, say, one that?s stacked with 50 pounds of delicious leftovers. Great: that means we can blame the leftovers.

(Fig. A): Let?s examine the behavior of particles in a closed container.

(Fig. B): The more particles we squeeze into the container, the testier they will become, especially if the container happens to be a rush-hour downtown local at 86th and Lex.

(Fig. C): Usually the particles will distribute evenly, unless there is a weird-looking puddle on the floor.

The probability of finding a seat on the subway is inversely proportional to the number of people on the platform.

Even worse, the utter absence of people is 100 percent proportional to just having missed the train.

To describe different phenomena, physicists use various units.

PASCALS, for example, measure the pressure applied to a certain area.

COULOMBS measure electric charge (that can occur if said area is a synthetic carpet)

DECIBELS measure the intensity of the trouble the physicist gets into because he didn't take off his shoes first.

Often those units are named after people to recognize historic contributions to their field of expertise. One NEWTON, for example, describes the force that is necessary to accelerate 1 kilogram of mass by one meter per second squared.

This is not to be confused with one NIEMANN, which describes the force necessary to make a three-year-old put on his shoes and jacket when we're already late for kindergarten.

Once the child is ready to go, I search for my keys. I start spinning around to scan my surroundings. This rotation exposes my head and all its contents to centrifugal forces, resulting in loss of hair and elongated eyeballs. That’s why I need to wear prescription glasses, which are yet another thing I constantly misplace.

Obviously, the hair loss theory I just presented is bogus. Hair can't be “lost.” Since Antoine Lavoisier, we all know that “matter can be neither created nor destroyed, though it can be rearranged,” which, sadly, it eventually will.

Not everything can be explained through physics, though. I’ve spent years searching for a rational explanation for the weight of my wife?s luggage. There is none. It is just a cruel joke of nature.

what?!? Mt. Kilimanjaro? … no way dudeS

2012-01-07T00:18:00.000+08:00

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A week or more ago I had posted on my facebook status if I should do one of the following:

OPTION ONE

Serengeti National Park with Victoria Lake (not Falls) and glimpses of the Masai tribe enroute to Ngongora Crater (apparently the best photo op for African wildlife),

OPTION TWO

Victoria Falls (yes! the 1 mile wide and mighty splash of water), Chobe National Park and Kruger National Park

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VISA wise, all of them didn't require one - boy, I love my Malaysian passport!

……..Kenya, Botswana and South Africa: up to 30 days stay

……..Tanzania, Zambia and Zimbabwe: up to 90 days stay

The problem is this:

Serengeti is on my bucket list. so is Victoria Falls.

It must be pricey or geographically or geo-politically difficult or inefficient to do both Serengeti and Victoria Falls in a trip, else the "zoos" of safari tour operators would have designed and organised it.

DATES?
Pretty much the same; I'm thinking of the condense version, but even then, it's impossible to do both together {back-to-back} or a few months apart - the flight time on its own will just kill me!

COST?

About RM 200 difference… not including sundry, tipping, transits, other incidentals - though I suspect these will be low and manageble as I don't expect any swanky boutiques or well stocked airports to burn the magnetic strip on my plastic ... well, until Val surprised me by crying out loud that she really, really wanted to go to Johannesburg.

my sister + Jo'burg?

impossible! well, until she mentioned that Mercedes CLS is one of the fastest selling cars there and Jo'burg has one of the highest density of CLS in the world! Africa, I suppose, just doesn't fail to shock!

FLIGHT?

Time and convenience are both equally inflexible and lengthy with very little frequent miles opportunity. Direct routes are almost non-existence and if it did exist, we're talking about flights that runs into 5-figures of my pathethic Malaysian sea shells!

I'm planning to do this all just barely under 5-figures though its likely to be a low 5-figure bill when I am done... given God forbid, I do not fall prey to the tsetse and need an upgrade of 'tents' and lodges badly. ... so no way am I going to dish out a 5-figures air fare!

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As of two days after the facebook status went up, some new insights emerges.
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I am told that if I did the Serengeti option, I absolutely MUST do the balloon ride.

I was told to 'knock' off stuff in exchange for the balloon ride, else the animal migration at my absolute best posture of 5' 6" eyeview level will yield a view of a huge cloud of orche dust that - like pesky tics on the coat of a labrador - will continue to be a pain and nuinsance to my camera gears, or rather more accurately, what remains of the gears I have.

B...b..bb....Bbb...ut the balloon ride cost 30% of the entire trip's costs (not including the airfare)! Thus, I doubt there's anything I can "knock" off other than foresaking one of my limbs as animal feed ... that is, if the predators are that hard-up to begin with, notwithstanding the fact that my insurers will be far from humoured.
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Another interesting development is: I am highly likely to see only the Big 3.5.
Big 3 for sure - elephants, rhinos and hippos are way too large to miss, and slow - relatively. The point five I am told would be an experience where the park ranger will point towards some moving grassy patch and say semi-enthusiastically: see that? That's a leopard or lioness.
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OK, I get it. To get the Big point five and perhaps the last of the Big 5, visit a lion or leopard sanctuary. To see them with a 100% guarantee or have a money back deal, flick the HD TV channel to National Geographic.
sigh
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All of these... and we're not even talking about the possibility of shooting {on film, not for food or fur} any of them. For starters I do not have any equipment and have no interests in plonking down two limbs in exchange for a minimum 300mm with a large aperture lens and a solid tripod that weighs more than my total baggage entitlement and dictates that my trip will be an overland one rather than those puny charter planes.
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Secondly, I am only capable of photographing grey coloured chunks of flesh that weighs tonnes in the wild (read: elephants and rhinos), and that too are those that are so accustomed to people they will pose, pout their lips {I kid you not! … more than 40% of my Pobitora Wildlife Sanctuary rhino shots had pouty pinky awful looking lips showing - see HERE (bottom photo)} even when I am shooting with a 85mm f1.8 lens! Yes, that was how close I was to the beasts!!!
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So, here I am reduced to a state of limbo-ness and utter confusion if I should even bother to pursue this adventure and if I will realistically be any more prepared if I wated a few years later … the answer of which I do know with 99.99999% certainty being NO.
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What's truly intriguing is how quickly I forget. Just 4 days ago before I pen this down I was going:
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"No way! Are you nuts?!? Mt. Kilimajaro is a different 'animal' to climb. Not only does it take days to ascent, the change in 5 topographies, climate and a drop of oxygen levels to about 60% kills you!"

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And this impressive knowledge comes from remembering Tony Hsieh (Zappos' CEO) personal account of his climb.
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And this is coming from me who ascended Mt Ararat a few months back with a wonky healing knee that was frankly deteriorating by the day in a Ralph Lauren cargo (fashion) pants by mistake!
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Also on a relevant note, arthritis is a bitch. Similar to cancer - somewhat - it spreads, and it spreads fast.
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This reminds me that I've got to get my thumb checked and my ring finger as well, since I can't even open a pack of potato chips without wanting to pee in my pants from the sharp excruciating pain or trying to depress my car alarm button!
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That aside, my Patagonia dream is still real and burning in my heart.
And all of a sudden I am having this hare-brain idea that I should be visiting Serengeti NP as a reward trip post killing myself on Mt. Kilimajaro or as a prelude.
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This is of course is all very weird for me as I find myself drawn towards scaling flat-top summits; the two loaves of bread looking mountains in two separate continents and countries; Tanzania and Australia. The only difference is the latter is an easy climb that is not encouraged due to respect for the culture and believe of the aboriginals..
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Mt. Kilimanjaro, Tanzania

.Uluru / Ayers Rock, Australia

How easily I am persuaded to kill my knee! All it took was some cheeky suggestions by fellow climbers and hikers … and there I have been burying my nose in 3 travel-trekking related books on Mt. Kilimanjaro.

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FYI

Mt. Kilimanjaro is a dormant volcano on the roof of Africa and is one of the closest point in the world to the sun. It's also the highest peak on the continent and the tallest free-standing mountain in the world standing tall at 5,895 m above sea level.

The origins of its name remains a mystery.

Some says "Mountain of Greatness', others believe it to mean 'Mountain of Caravans'. In Swahili, 'kilima' means top of the hill or the word 'kile makyaro' which means 'impossible journey' in Chagga language.

It takes an average of 12 lives a year (thought there are no official records) compared to Mt. Everest's 6 lives in 2005 and 10 lives in 2006.

I, personally am incline to go with the Chaggas - impossible journey

Cravings

2012-01-03T06:23:00.000+08:00

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4 hours 28 minutes to wake up time.
I am wide eyed as usual.
Blogging is the last thing I should be doing. It keeps me thinking the rest of the night/morning. Searching for a punch line.

Like it matters.

For days I have been feeling thirsty.

The type you feel after leaving a service from hell but packed Chinese joint smelling of everything they serve there, but mostly of bad sesame oil. The MSG overdose type that no amount of green tea can wash the after taste away or quench your thirst; yet amazingly the sensation does finally dissipate but you can't put your finger down as to how or what or why.

Like it matters.

Despite the thirst and feeling like I have a miniature version of Himalayan salt mountain range at the tip of my tongue, I am dreaming - day dreaming, night dreaming, wide-eyed awake dreaming of Krispy Kreme.

strange...

I don't really fancy Krispy Kreme … unless it happens to sit on Bob-the-Builder's desk.

But that too I suspect is because I get great joy seeing his face light up with excitement at the prospect of sinking his teeth into that sinful oil and sugar water drenched piece of dough.

Krispy Kreme basically has the same effect as Coca Cola on me.

The sudden craving. Brain commanding tongue to make the request and hand to finalise the transaction with exchange of hard cash for a pile of sugar. Brain then reprimands lips and mouth for being so reckless as to almost dribble at the sight of them … this reminds me of the occasional lunch time purchase of super spicy Malay rice at the open car park beside the Bank. 'Makcik Bawah Pokok' was the name we had affectionately called her. Obviously her affection for us was non-existence. Or rather her desire for hard currency far outweighed any consideration of our cravings for her food. We were abandoned for a far more lucrative open car park smack in the middle of higher high rise a few blocks down the road at downtown Kuala Lumpur.

But there's one distinct difference between her food and Coca Cola or Krispy Kreme… her food tasted good until my tears and mucus covered my ducts and smell sensory.

With Coca Cola and Krispy Kreme, my desire for them takes a sharp gravity like plunge after the first taste.

Yet, I am craving for Krispy Kreme now.

At this juncture where my cravings can not be fulfilled unless some price in shinning amour hand delivers them to my door step. There is no Krispy Kreme around here.

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To top it off I have this insane craving to make a mini album on my Romanian Road trip last year with some friends.

This of course can not be fulfilled either …

But more bizarre is the subject of cravings.
This is because I had 'suffered' and not enjoyed most of my time in Romania … other than the Hilton Bucharest stint and the Transfagarasan road trip {read HERE}.

{while searching for muscular Popeye type to assist us with out flat tyre, I took photos of Viscri town - a UNESCO World Heritage Site with a population of Roma majority and a fortified church that dates back to 1100. And oh well, yes I took photos of the travel mates as well who decided to wear dresses for the Bran Castle visit - reason which is unknown to me!}

01012012 experimentation of indulgence

2012-01-01T01:12:00.000+08:00

It was a spur of the moment thing.

Something that seem right, purposeful and urgent at 10-ish p.m.

Not exactly the best urge to have at such a time, and worse still when it requires 3 different exotic types of cheeses, whipped cream and oh yes, a reliable mixer and not a manual egg whisk and a large bowl.

The mission?

red velvet cake.

Naturally, like all ridiculous urges that needed to be fulfilled at the most ridiculous hour and place, I've never made a red velvet cake in my entire life. I don't have a red velvet recipe with me. I've only tasted it once in Ben's with Val when we were looking at alternatives just in case we could not find a strawberry flavoured cake for Beck's 4th birthday. Oh ya, we're just going to lie through our teeth that the red velvet is a strawberry cake. Seriously what does a four-year old know? And how developed can a four-year old's taste bud and appreciation for food be {conveniently forgetting the fact that reincarnation does exist!}.

I shall save you the drama that when on in this: "The Making of Penelope's Red Velvet Cake" episode - one that ranges from forgetting to get red food colouring, whisking up the cheeses and whipped cream way too early; risking it settling or melting over the freshly baked cake (read: hot!), to only having a 4" long knife that could possibly not slice the 12" diameter cake horizontally into half coupled with the fact that the 12" diameter cake tin had produced a cake way too thin to be sliced into half!

So, it must have been either beginner's luck or the perpetually kind Heavenly Gods smiling down at me as the clock struck midnight - at the change of one Gregorian year to another …

Since the above attempt was successful and this renders me 'stuck' with one whole sinful cake that defies all health consideration and healthy living diet lifestyle I have been trying to stay on course, I decided to spoil myself by making apple flavoured water kefir (bottom right most photo) and another batch of super yummy-licious ice-cream soda tasting water kefir by adding a few drops of pure vanilla extract into a mug …

add some ice, and I'm all ready to toast to a new{gregorian}year

{L to R: rejuvenating and feeding water kefir, water kefir grains rinsed off, apple flavoured water kefir fermentation}

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phew!
Thank Goodness I am not into making new year's resolutions.
Even if I were, making red velvet cake again will not be on it … and gulp, gulp, it sure is going to be tough to keep the healthy living and eating lifestyle once you have tried the vanilla extract drops in water kefir.
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{happy} 2012 Everyone!

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Malaysia Airlines and Enrich boleh BAKAR!!!!!!!!

2011-12-30T18:06:00.000+08:00

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Ever tried to access your Enrich online?

Well, there's nothing much you can do online especially when the gateway is 'down'. I am suspecting that the gateway has NEVER been up as it has been purportedly down since mid-year!

Well then, that's not much of a problem coz you are advised to call the toll free number for any transactional type activity or a dedicated number if you're calling from overseas. The thing is this: both numbers are essentially the same and leads to the Call Center (i.e. 03 7843 3000) and though if you're calling from Timbuktu, Mali coz you'll definitely be racking up a huge bill waiting for some real human being to get onto the line as the system navigates you through a labyrinth of confusing selection.

This too is not seriously a problem, especially if you are used to calling Call Centres and by now would have been accustomed to the crisp and clear woman voice everyone uses to direct callers through some should be no-brainer steps of getting assistance. The only minor annoyance about MAS' system is if you had key-ed in the wrong selection, there is no way of back tracking your choices and there is no way to get to real person on the phone either; i.e. there is no "speak to a real human, please press "ZERO""

Never mind that.
Just some minor flaw which MAS can rectify at minimal cost and swiftly with no service disruption.

And if you're calling locally, just hang up and try again. It cost less than a ringgit even if you dutifully or respectfully listen to that crisp and clear woman voice detailed instructions.

The thing is this:
It boils your blood if you attempt to call Malaysia Airline or Enrich Call Center at the end of the year.

Why?

Every single mortal who owns an Enrich card will have their miles expiring on 31st December!!!

Now, now, in this technologically advanced age, wouldn't it be prudent to stagger or have a few expiration dates? Surely even a simple algorithm designed programming would have covered the complexity and tedium of tracking expiration dates of cards.

But since they did not even think though the telephone scripting, I suppose it's really a lot to ask for them to think in binary codes.

So, if that can't be done, why not have more staff handling Enrich during this period rather than one person. Yes, ONE sorry person who would have to receive all the brunt of callers who have been on the phone line for hours ... the persistent callers like me, that is.

I gave up after 2 hours 34 minutes of being on hold. I swear I'll be hearing the recorded 'on-hold' message till next year at this rate.

Deviously, like 99.9999999999% of other Enrich callers facing the same predicament, I selected the First Class Online Booking option and spoke to a Customer Service personnel after 3 rings! ah HA! Obviously the 1990s Quality Circle, Quality Service Mantra of 'pick up the phone after 3 rings' is still applied here.

I have longed learned that in situations like this you could play it 3 ways:

HARD (i.e. nasty - my typical default mode after being transferred more than 8 times by call centers or speaking to someone who is incapable of assisting me)
NORMAL (ain't gonna get you no where babe! wake up, mediocrity doesn't work in this world)
NICE (50:50 chance ... you may find someone obliging who will assist you, or you may bump into someone 'by-the-books' who will ignore you, or worse still Cruella de Vil who will take advantage of you)

I started off with HARD.

I was given 4 alternative Enrich phone number by the guy who said,

"so listen {you idiot caller - i.e. me}, I can repeat I have no authority to do Enrich transaction over and over again or do you want me to give you other numbers to call Enrich?"

OK. I totally deserve that but I should also have seen it coming from this dirty rude monkey when he rattled off the following numbers:
2162 4146, 2162 4236, 2162 0727, 2162 0725

what do you think?

It wasn't even a funny prank.
Now, I'll be having "nombor yang anda dial sudah ditamatkan perkhidmatannya" ringging in my ears in addition to the above on-hold messages!

I figured, either he was so annoyed with me - though hardly possible as I wasn't really shouting or screaming at him or even remotely rude. I had merely informed him with gritting teeth tone that I have been placed on hold for 1 hour 54 minutes (at that point) and I do not want to be transferred back to the Enrich department which obviously had no one working there and wanted to be assisted by him NOW.

Or maybe the girl working at the Enrich department jilted him for his best friend.
Who knows?

In any case after filling up 3 online REQUEST for INFORMATION, CONTACT US, and COMPLAINT forms as well as emailing to 2 MAS related emails while listening to the on-hold messages ... I received a bulb light moment. It was then I realised that both the local contact number and overseas number is the same!

I called using the overseas number option, got my pointer finger positioned and ready to do some 'bad phone connection scratch sounds' if I needed it and selected ECONOMY CLASS TIX BOOKING this time around fearing that if I chose FIRST CLASS/BUSINESS CLASS TIX BOOKING I might just get that same rude guy on the line.

sigh {of relief}

Another guy picks up the phone after >10 rings. So obviously they have a few dedicated people waiting anxiously for obnoxious secretaries of 1st Class / Business Class flyers and a couple of staff for Cattle Class and none for Enrich (we are after all suckers who they rather have us "losing" our points to some expiration timeline they had set).

I decided to wish the person and in a calm manner stated my problem...

I also mentioned that I am seriously running the risk of using my entire airfare budget on the phone call being put on hold for nearly 2 hours (fact) and I do know it's coz the phone lines are so damn unreliable in Timbuktu, Mali unlike our wonderful country Malaysia!!! and was wondering if he was kind enough to assist me as his friend earlier had given me 4 alternative numbers and none seem to work or ... it's the damn unreliable phone service in Timbuktu, Mali and not Malaysia or MAS.

To seem convincing I had the minor sound effect going {though at the back of my mind I wondered what Call Center system they had installed and if it was able to display the origins or phone number of the incoming call}.

And waaaa...lah.... I was given 2 other numbers ... one which was as hopeless as the 4 above.

The other was an exclusive number the Call Center staff use internally to contact the Administrative Division of Enrich for assistance and clarification.

No surprise, I had everything settled with the Admin number, though I have to say the girl on the other end was far less friendly and seriously bossy ... but what can I say? If lies and womanly helplessness got me that far, I wasn't going to let a stupid woman, who is also unfortunately the linchpin in this entire episode ruin it for me. No way could I be reduced to listening to the "on hold" phone messages for another hour or two … so, I played the NICE, polite, begging poor soul ...

4 minutes. That's all it took.

Total time wasted trying to rescue some expiring frequent flyer miles?

2 hours 53 minutes.

Total time wasted on Malaysia Airlines and Enrich (including web surfing and blogging) :

3 hours 36 minutes!

Let's not even go down the total phone bill cost!

seriously ... Malaysia Airlines and Enrich boleh bakar

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i MUST save the world ...

2011-12-27T03:36:00.000+08:00

I've crossed a week @ the new place.

Wait a minute, I think I'm close to crossing 2 weeks ... or is it 3 weeks now???

yipee!!! did I say 3 weeks?

I had said I would give it 4 weeks and start putting down the pros and the cons on paper and weigh them carefully before making any decision.

Oh heck!

With me, a better remedy would be to burn the piece of paper down to ashes, drink it and hopefully be haunted by a dream with a resolute decision in it. The trick is of course to wake up remembering the dream, or in this case the resolute decision.

My 'mom' {the ex-boss} had said to give it 3 months ... minimum.

Oh well, we'll have to see what happens to the above decision making mechanism.
For all you know I end up with really bad constipation or even acute stomach complications or carbon intoxication ... some of those morbid 'illness' only I can 'cook' up that renders me unfit for employment ... and voila! the consideration of: should continue @ the new place or otherwise? cease to exist.
Well, you could say that I wouldn't be totally clueless as to what I would do next… unlike the ridiculous {mis}adventure of attempting medical school in nature's freezer, or even the earlier law school attempt.

None of that however exceeds the expectation of my {mis}adventure many years later of me attempting not to have crossed-eyes sorting out binary codes while figuring out in my state of idleness "why the heck would I want to know who owns the limousine Humvee that pulled right in front of the plush 5-star hotel lobby I was living in; missing my toes by a few inches!?!"

This incident metamorphosed quickly into a Sherlock Holmes need that persisted and consumed my soul for over 2 weeks - hardly surprising given the state of boredom and dis-engagement towards work, people and environment I was in.

so, what would I do next?
that's simple.
Believing that I was born to be at airports {notwithstanding my love-hate relationships with long lay-overs, excessive transits and annoyance with provincial airports} my next live's pursuits will be about airports!

Look, someone obviously needs to save the world ...
With the exceptions of a few international airports with mouth-gaping wow architectural marvel and well thought and laid-out amenities, services and recreational spaces, most airports are well, glass-steel-concrete rectangular structures built over large spaces of land.

With the arrival of self-cleaning surfaces, airports are just 'cold' and often the preferred colour scheme of greys and blues - apparently stain looks better on them! - adds on to this 'cold' feeling.
.

.
depressing
yes, that's really what it is!
Often this feeling goes unnoticed while we look forward to either arriving at the next destination {hopefully home or a lovely 'home' away from home that's often plusher than home home}, or purely to end the dreadful exhausting soul-less journey. The feeling of 'low' is often attributed to home sickness, jet lag, dehydration and exhaustion.

Being a perpetual {mellon collie and} infinite sadness type of person, I know it's the environment. Surrounded by the grey-blue unnatural and hard materials just saps my energy ... more so when I no longer perk myself up with M&Ms, Mars and some ice blended coffee fix in my younger days. {read: HERE - when rules don't apply}

Lucky for me, I get a momentary energy booster by looking through a viewfinder and tapping the back of a 'lady bug' - shutter release soft button. But like said, it's momentary; given that the view is just that 'inspiring' with similar looking shops selling almost identical items ... perfumes, skin care, cigarettes, liquor, leather goods, scarves, books, sandwiches, coffee, tacky and totally over prized souvenirs, chocolates, Legos ...

Now, Legos is something that continues to intrigue me.
With only so little personal space up in the air and a flimsy plastic tray passing itself off as a "dining table-cum-working desk" how does one propose that a clumsy four year old with just about refined motor skills and chubby fingers work around building a monster truck or a fire brigade air bound?

In any case, I'm not saving the world by clearing out airports from Legos.
I'm talking interior decor here! Yes, injecting some energy and funk into airports!

And if that fails, like all things, there's Plan B.
ahem. did I hear you mutter "this better be good" ?
sheesh ...

Well, since Plan B is most probably going to be "it", suffice to say at this point it's with regards to Making the Most out of Frequent Flyer Miles.
Speaking of which, yes, I am off ... I gotta surf for holiday ideas and plan my next vacation - yeah, yeah I know I'm hardly a month @ the new place, but I've got frequent flyer miles expiring on 31st December 2011!!! uh-huh, this is a matter of life and death in my books!

.
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Merry Christmas

2011-12-25T00:48:00.002+08:00

{sorry … couldn't resist!}

Merry Christmas yaw'all !!!

{just so you know, though it ain't important … I have a blog referencing Wallace & Gromit - one of the few life 'mentors' - in "draft". Never quite completed it though had intended for it to be out before this… oh well, as they say: Man plans, GOD disposes!}

moving on ...

2011-12-22T02:37:00.000+08:00

2nd December 2011

goodbye Al Rajhi Bank Malaysia ...

{the joke below is probably really passé but I thought it was hilarious enough to leave my Al Rajhi-an 'family' behind with ...}

Young Chuck moved to Texas and bought a donkey from a farmer for $100. The farmer agreed to deliver the donkey the next day. The next day the farmer drove up and said, ‘Sorry Chuck, but I have some bad news, the donkey died.’

Chuck replied, ‘Well, then just give me my money back.’

The farmer said, ‘Can’t do that. I went and spent it already.’
.

Chuck said, ‘OK, then, just bring me the dead donkey.’
.

The farmer asked, ‘What ya gonna do with a dead donkey?
.

Chuck said, ‘I’m going to raffle him off.’
.

The farmer said ‘You can’t raffle off a dead donkey!’
.

Chuck said, ‘Sure I can. Watch me. I just won’t tell anybody he’s dead.’.

A month later, the farmer met up with Chuck and asked, ‘What happened with that dead donkey?’
.

Chuck said, ‘I raffled him off. I sold 500 tickets at two dollars apiece and made a profit of $898.00.’
.

The farmer said, ‘Didn’t anyone complain?’
.

Chuck said, ‘Just the guy who won. So I gave him his two dollars back.’
.

Chuck now works for a Bank.

{well truthfully, you are left with this lousy joke primarily because I accidentally deleted a really nice photo, which I obviously do not have a copy of it on me! ... that's the peril and risk of blogging too many drafts and letting it 'sit' in queue}
.

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

In any case, that {the above} was purely for laughs.
I am not dishing my ex-employer or the industry.
Seriously every where is the same. One way or the other, it all balances out.
Take for example the new place ...
.

on Day 2 @ the new place I messaged "grandpa Robsie":

"GOD! I cannot work here. We are responsible for mutating the chickens of the world and many other gene genocide with GMO induced substances and chemicals. {insert name of cigarette company (which I was briefly attached to in my past life)} déjà vu"

He replied:

"lol! This sounds like a Wallace & Grommit episode."... followed by wisdom of how we are actually helping to make food production faster and more affordable to feed the world. And besides he adds, GMO food do not kill people like cigarettes do.

true ...I know all of that.

b..bbbBUT... my chicken ban stands. Same applies to any funky looking vegetables.

.
But it all voices down to how long can I sustain myself really?

My organic dried snack foods are fast running low.

I ate the entire pack of millet with seaweed wrap in less than an hour...

I am painfully rationing my 5-grain cracker and muttering swears under my breath for misplacing the dried fruit and nuts bag.
.

I feel worst that an alcoholic with withdrawal syndrome when I have to mentally stop myself from over consuming my water kefir beverage. No, it's not because of the 1% alcoholic content in it. Rather, I fear the water kefir grains (friendly bacteria) are put under too much duress and strain to produce continuous yummy carbonated drinks for me.
'
And with water kefir ... my stock of Maikabari Organic Green Tea pales in comparison.

.
With a day that starts with me battling the temptations of snuggling in further under my blanket at 5:30 a.m., I am famish by 10:32 a.m., give or take 10 minutes. My liquid breakfast diet that had served me fine for more than 2 decades is not holding up in this environment. This, I gather is partly due to the fact that I am forced to face with a hard decision of deciding on my one real solid meal for the day - lunch - at 9:00 a.m. purely to meet the delivery time of 12:30 p.m., give or take 10 minutes. This morning ritual I reckon possibly activates my brain and gastric juices to an overdrive mode, thereby resulting in the temptation and need to fuel the body with some carbo and sugar by mid-morning; else my eyelids naturally transforms into shutter doors made of the thickest nuclear resistant steel and concrete.

.
yes, admittedly I am seriously NOT a morning person ...

{unless we are talking real early and by that I mean anything between 12:00:01 to circa 02:00:00}

Or unless there's a winged metal 'bird' that I need to chase ... or when oxygen deprived and when altitude sickness have overtaken the brain ... ah ha! that's when I rise early.
Else, feggettit! I ain't NO morning person...
.

At the new place, it's not an option.

It's a question of how long I'll be able to heck it.
.

Doesn't help that I sit in a "cave" 12 hours a day, give or take 15 minutes; void of any mobile telephone connectivity and restricted Internet {read: cultural dessert}
.

The 'cave syndrome'! has also made me craved for non-sensible short messages from various Telco carriers, banks, boutiques, embassy alerts ... things that used to irritate me to high heavens especially when I am driving.

.
And oh, lastly the 'cave' is surprisingly cold.
And by cold, I mean the bbrrrr... bbrrrr... type cold.
The type where penguins thrive and grow fat! which by the way it's a fallacy that the cold makes you burn fat and therefore lose weight - there is seriously no correlation what-so-ever and I've been a test tube now for over 10 solid >12 hours day. If you doubt me, oh well, perform an easy experiment: flip your television channel to National Geographic or Discovery and wait till you get some animal coverage on penguins, seals, walrus, polar bears ... need I go on? {smirk}
.
I'll be signing in more ... or not.
Depending on how miserable I get.
Miserable dramatic works - there will be more dramatic, Ally McBeal type imaginations and prose.
Miserable depression is a no go ... but perhaps, it will curb the appetite and weight gain.
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Inspired by 3191 ...

2011-12-19T07:19:00.000+08:00

... these are vignettes of simple everyday things: a cup of coffee, soft-boiled eggs, rain boots kicked off at the front door, the stem of a flower, many crumpled napkins, many spoons. Though the two women were 3,191 miles apart the images are complementary in their color and composition more often than not. Sometimes startlingly so. The blog, and the book that followed after a year’s worth of images (and 3,000 visitors a day from Australia to Iceland), capture the rhythms of everyday life, often surprising the viewer by the sheer beauty of the most quotidian element. That each woman paused to record the curve of a daughter’s ear, a bowl of cereal or a shadow cast across the floor before sitting down in front of a computer is an act that carries with it the most clichéd, yet essential, of all messages: stop and smell the roses (and the coffee, the toast, the morning air). We’re living in difficult times, and it seems it’s exactly these tiny details and fleeting moments that can offer us the most solace and even joy. —Allison Arieff, The New York Times

The morning hours before the hustle and bustle of the day commences is the perfect time to pause and enjoy a sense of renewal and vitality. On the morning of December 7, 2006, Maria Alexandra Vettese and Stephanie Congdon Barnes each took a digital photo of everyday objects randomly arranged on their kitchen tables and, unbeknownst to one another, uploaded them to the website Flickr.

"A Year of Mornings" collects 236 images—always taken before noon without discussion between the two women – from this uniquely 21st-century artistic collaboration. The intimacy of these photographs—discarded clothing, a view of a snowy day from the window, a table cloth—combined with their striking similarities in color and composition defies the reality of their long-distance collaboration. While clearly kindred spirits, the two women have met in person only once. Their friendship is maintained solely online, sustained by a shared love for moments of serenity, solitude, and peacefulness. The annotated photographs in "A Year of Mornings" radiate an aura of sweetness and light—the promise of a new day.

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

inspired

Mohit G and Penelope G decided to have our own version:

PERSPECTIVES - 2302 Miles Apart

OK, not very innovative.

And worse still we weren't doing it 365 days a year.

We had attempted with a realistic once a week upload.

We went as far as a schedule for 3 months, outlining the one-to-four word title per week.

The shorter the better … as everything was meant to be opened for interpretation.

The idea was to see how two different gender, two people from two different sides of the world would perceive the world.

Our very own anthropology and sociology study if you will.

Needless to say with demanding work load; me, then a banker and he, a programmer {only he doesn't do any real programming but manages a team who does it} … we were often half praying the other would be so hard pressed with time and fails the pact.

Eventually the embarrassment was abandoned and very quickly we would openly admit and tease the other party for failure to upload.

Soon, the project was totally abandoned when personal crisis hit me first, followed by him.

something we would not discuss with others … just between us and the family.

I would no longer term this something as "battling with" but rather "living with".

Our telephone conversation yesterday was profound{ly funny} - not in a ha-ha manner but a peculiar, ironic manner.

Are we miserable?

No. We are far from capable of feeling miserable or being able to detect 'miserable'.

What's left is the ability to know when we're actually feeling 'good'.

We, according to Mohit, have slipped down the Maslow Hierarchy … and until and unless we regain a seemingly good altitude, it's unlikely that we're capable of many things amongst which our interest in photography.

Maybe he's right.

In any case, while I try to keep the Penelope Gan | Photoblog going … tough as it really needs some serious inspiration, drive, and mojo to not only post a photo but blog about it, I had always wanted to showcase some of my film experimentation and digital photos still in archive.

Lack of drive to actually start with some html or CSS, I gave up my >2 years old attempt to finish off a personal website with photo gallery capabilities built on WordPress platform for a simple blogger 1 column wide width layout.

And with that … here's a new attempt called "My Range Finder"; given that all I have is one film range finder and the {on permanent loan? gift?} Leica M8.2 (digital).

With the new job - miserable and demanding - we'll see how successful I am.

ambitious? Hardly.

Probably just looking for some distraction and reviving a hobby.

And with all of the above said, I must go to snoozle land NOW!!! … else I'll be cracking my brains in my sleep deprieved state as to why I refuse to show up for work … and I've barely survived 7 working days to date!

the day I could finally take off ...

2011-12-16T19:53:00.002+08:00

On my night stand.

{or should I say previous night stand?}

Lonely Planet:
Sri Lanka . Western Balkans . Turkey . India . Myanmar (Burma) . China . Russia & Belarus . First Time Around The World .

Obviously a CRISIS is happening here.

The 'First Time Around The World' has a handsome two-thirds shot of a cheetah.

I've always had a thing for cheetahs.

I've read somewhere that cheetahs will not bite if you pat it right in the middle of its head.

If ...

Perhaps it's like a cobra.

They can't attack upwards or backwards.

Ah ha... that explains how one is able to plant a kiss on the cobra's hood.
This I have witness; nonetheless thanks but no thanks I ain't trying it and besides I do not have a thing for snakes.

Anyways, I've always wanted to die in the hands of a grizzly bear.

Despite the detailed and horroring accounts in the various Readers Digest I read growing up.

hmmm... makes me wonder how many bear attacks per annum; further reduced to survival rates and lastly the pick up rate of Readers Digest.

I've always found the typeset and layout of Readers Digest distasteful.

Wondered who would actually fall for their gimmicky "YOU WON $1,000,000" bold statements with elaborately drawn water-marked mock cheques. Or those gold foiled plastic keys to your brand new Ferrari. And I was no more than 9 years old at that point.

Given my age, if the gold foiled key had been a gold foiled chocolate shaped key, perhaps I would have liked Readers Digest a bit more.

Nonetheless. I spent my 11th year on this earth cramping up my fingers and developing tennic wrist by practicing to tie a know out of a rubber band stuck right at the bottom of a cleaned-out empty large size Gobbler peanut butter and jelly jam jar, aided with two tweezers. I had read in 2 issues of Readers Digest that that's how neurosurgeons practiced before a surgery.

Obviously my level of intuition, intelligence and suspicion fell with age.

I was definitely more suspecting when I was 9 than 11.

In any case, supplemented by the local provicial library visits, pouring over obsolete out of print and also home to the silver fish colony of the library, I had turned in a paper on the brain at school. Needless to say, my mother was called in ... the beginning of many more episodes which by the time I had secured a full scholarship at college she was fed-up and had retorted, "If she's still scoring at the top of her class, what's the issue?"

Look, it was never the case of a bad job.

It just didn't quite address the topic or question.

And thanks to that, I was introduced to the expression "off tangent" at a prime age, thereby confusing me thoroughly in physics in my later years.

"Off tangent" remains today ... as you would have observed.

So, getting back on course ... the books or my night stand was procured in one go on the evening I had decided to quit Al Rajhi Bank for good ... regardless.

This is after I had submitted my resume across the seas to India and somehow received 4 local phone calls within the week... a true testament to the effectiveness of technology and the gossip channels.

At that point, securing a 'future' was of far concern.

At that point, my dream - one which I had haboured for years - could be realised:

Transiberia?
Pantagonia?
Aurora stakeout?
Mongolia trekking?
Big 5 spotting?

Suddenly everything and anything was possible.

I could finally take 4 weeks off without a care.
6 weeks was not an issue.
So why not 8 weeks?
or even a gap year? ... if I could survive me alone on the road …

I know deep down in my hearts of heart, I can't survive me.

I can't tolerate me for long!

ha ha

How is this even possible?

Well, it is ... a thought for you to explore with yourself too.

.
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Transfagarasan Road Trip

2011-12-06T00:02:00.000+08:00

'No one can manipulate anyone else. In any relationship, both parties know what they're doing, even if one of them complaints later on that they were used.'

Athena of The Witch of Portobello

I am NOT a Paulo Coelho fan. I've always been intrigued by those who rave about it.

But at MYR 14.90, what's the risk really? I got 'The Witch of Portobello' - an enigma; dissatisfied and lost soul who conjures anger, support, respect, disgust with those she had encountered. Revered and feared, a saint and a demon, she partakes a journey around the world into an unseen spiritual world.

As a reader I found myself highly irritable and in most part impatient with Athena, but I have to admit she left an imprint on me.

gypsies.vagabonds

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

Jeremy Clarkson, Richard Hammond and James May sealed the deal by snaking their way through national road 7C in their Ferrari, Lamborghini and Aston Martin.

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

I had always thought that Romania's appeal {for me at least} would lie with the bears in the Carpathian Mountains … and ok, a quick visit to Bran Castle more commonly known as Dracula Castle {thanks to the myth created by Bram Stoker who himself have never stepped foot into Romania!}

Who would have guessed that national road 7C {transfagarasan mountain road} would be the highlight of the Romanian trip?

The Transfagarasan was built between 1970 and 1974 by military forces on Nicolae Ceausescu's instructions as a result of the 1968 invasion of Czechoslovakia by the Soviets.

Nicolae Ceausescu built the Transfagarasan as a strategic military route to cross the mountains in the event the Soviets attempted a similar invasion on Romania. The builders used 6000 tons of dynamite to clear a path for the road on the northern side of the mountains (this is the most spectacular) and on the tunnel. 40 soldiers are reported to have lost their lives during construction.

Purported to be one of the most spectacular roads in the world, the Transfagarasan is 90 km long and runs throught the Fagaras mountains (trans + Fagaras), a part of the Transsylvanian Alps, and connects Transsylvania with Muntenia.

The Transfagarasan starts at Bascov, near Piteçti, and follows the valley of the river Argea. Upon mounting to the highest point, it descends to Cartisoara in the Olt valley, where the road ends.

Besides rising to a height of 2134 meter and has sharp hairpin turns; proving a challenge for every driver, the Transfagarasan has more tunnels and viaducts than any other roads in Romania, with the longest and highest tunnel connecting Transslyvania and Walachia located near Balea Lac (Lake Balea).

The Transfagarasan Road Trip
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A few miles beyond Curtea de Arges, the Transfagarasan road starts to face the mountain slope. What lies ahead for the next few miles is a typical mountain landscape with pines and alpine meadows.

The Transfagarasan runs trough the Arges River gorge.

After travelling beyond the last village, Capataneni, you'll see a road sign to Poenari Castle. This castle was property of Vlad III the Impaler; and not the Bran Castle that has frequently been mistaken. Vlad earned his nickname by impaling, torturing, burning, skinning, roasting, and boiling people who did things that displeased Vlad - such as stealing, lying, and adulterous relations. This was apparently the way Vlad kept his people in order and taught them that stealing would not be tolerated in his lands.

His fortress - the Poenari Castle - is visible high above a remote cliff and is accessible through 1,480 stairs!

Ascending slightly more than 10% of the way up, the prospects of sinking my teeth into some roasted corn while dipping my toes into the stream at the foot of the hill was more alluring and logical. Without much hesitation, I descended the stairs, fished out some change and got a corn plus a ring of oversized "pretzels" that doubled up as edible fashion accessories … something I was sorely missing by then, having brought only 2 pieces of Tiffany & Co. with me during the 3 week trip!

Following the road further north, you'll reach Vidraru Lake. A man-made reservoir, retained by a dam that is 165 meters high, 305 meters long and holds 465 million cubic meters of water the dam was ranked 5th in Europe and 9th in the world upon completion generating approximately of 400 GWh/year.

The Transfagarasan road runs over this dam.

At this point the road splits up; with one route to the left side of the lake and the other passes the right side of the lake, We had taken the right one based on recommendation that it is in a far better condition then the left one despite being 3 km longer. As I'm unable to comment or compare, either road you chose will meet at the northern side of the lake.

Passing through some scenic spots and waterfall, you'll eventually see the tunnel under the Paltinu Ridge as you approach to the top of the Transfagaran Road. Take the tunnel but be careful! - regardless of weather conditions, the road in the tunnel is always wet and slippery. Exiting the tunnel brings you to the highest point of the Transfagarasan - Balea Lac (Lake Balea).

Lake Balea is a glacier lake with clear, icy water, surrounded by mountain peaks. Temperature can drop to sub-zero even during the summer months here and strong winds will wreak havoc. Nonetheless, it worth parking just as you exit the tunnel, stroll along the food stalls dotting the road side and take a walk to the lake.
.

As you descent the northern side of the Transfagarasan road, you'll will be able to see the sharp descent and the hairpin turns of almost the whole Transfagarasan road stretch; especially in good weather.

Along the way to Balea Cascada (Falls) you can see the cable cars gliding up and down the mountain. In winter, when the road is blocked by snow, this is the highest point you can reach by car and the rest is accessible by cable cars.

Unlike Jeremy, Richard and James, you'd probably want to do the Transfagarasan Road in the comforts and safety of a 4x4 than a swanky sporty car as the maximum speed imposed is 40km/h (25 miles/h) … and even if you'd wanted to burn some rubber with your Ferrari, the vehicle swallowing portholes at the lower altitudes would not permit you.

The road is often closed from October till June due to snow.

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others that might be of interest
Behind the scenes video of Top Gear filming at the Transfagarasan Road:

The could have been a great advert shoot for Toureg:

the day I stared @ Leicester Square's footpath

2011-11-29T00:06:00.001+08:00

...

Flustered.

I felt my cheeks burning red.

In fact, I could just feel the heat rising from my neck upwards.

I can't recall now if I had a muffler or a turtle neck on; I'm incline to think it's a relatively light weight turtle neck. It's not cold enough for those lovely scarves… yet.

I do recall what he wore though. Dark steel bluish-grey turtle neck over jeans.

Strange that I recall that so distinctively.

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

I had arrived early… fearing I would over sleep or missing the train… something I could not afford as I have a flight to catch in the next few hours.

Having a breakfast meeting with an early afternoon flight is insane.

Having a breakfast meeting at 9 a.m. after 'talking' to the person at 1:32 a.m. seriously dictates that both of us should be in an asylum and not wandering the streets of London.

In any case it appeared like a good idea a few weeks earlier given my tight schedule and his need to bury himself in a pile of books.

As I walked out of the Leicester Square tube station early that morning I thought, "hmmm… so this is how Leicester Square looks like on a Saturday morning."

I've only been to Leicester Square between mid-morning to 11-ish p.m., careful not to miss my last tube home. The latest I had stayed was with my girlfriend at Costa. Someone whom I've not met and spoken to in 14 years and the moment we met, we clicked and wagged our tongues non-stop, as if there was never a time lapse or a void in our lives from one another.

A second thought that struck me was: I've never taken any photos of London. Ever.

I suppose in part it's complacency. And partly familiarity.

I shrugged at the idea and smiled to myself as I headed over to the Burger King at the corner. The designated meeting place. He'd be sitting by a window, he'd said a few hours earlier.

As I walked passed it, peering through the windows I was glad that he had not arrived and I'd have a few moments to nip into the 'London' store that sold everything that screams L-O-N-D-O-N to get the 'Mind the Gap' t-shirt for a friend who was doing a fellowship in Oxford but didn't manage to get the t-shirt himself; a reason that is unclear to me.

The union jacks, Big Ben, london taxi and those men with impossibly high black hairy hats must have gotten the better of me as I spent in excess of 300 sterling pounds - again, something I've never done before. I hate kitsch, el cheapo over-the-top and over priced touristy souvenirs. Worse still I bought everything for me!!! with the exception of the t-shirt; which come to think of it, I haven't got a slightest clue if it had arrived Mother India and the recipient I suppose does not have the courtesy to inform one way or the other! bah!!!!

Oh well, first and last time I'd be touristy shopping for sure.

Balancing the bags - one of which proved tricky with the metal reproduction of 'Abbey Road' sign - I fished out my Leica M8.2 and decided to take a few shots.

As I was walking and clicking away I suddenly stop in my tracks.

My brain was finally registering that the rough edges felt by my right index finger as I press the shutter release button was the original 'naked' screw like fixture which over-priced Leica can't even provide us Leica camera owners {read: suckers} with a nice finish.

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

OMG! OMG! OMG!

where's the ladybug???

Think. THINK! THINK!!! Was it on when I took the camera out?

It's my ladybug.

It's not just any ordinary ladybug.

Lemme explain.

I had heard and always wanted a Leica as a novelty.

My turning point came at the sight of a ladybug button attached to a pre-loved M3.

I spent 6 days 21 hours and some excruciating minutes doing a speedy Gonzales Leica 101 for Idiots research over the internet, racing against the eBay auction clock.

I had swallowed my pride and dialed the ex-'s number for advice; bracing myself for laughter that boomed and echoed across the Himalayan hills.

I had endured a lecture that sounded like how sunny side eggs should be cooked, but I know it had something to do with light metering in the absence of a metering function on the M3, and not about eggs per se. I was too embarrassed to ask "why do I need to care?" about the sunny gibberish explanations.

It would have taken me many rounds of reincarnation to admit {then} that I was planning to bid for a funky old camera with a cutesy ladybug on it. Or should I say, I was planning to buy a cutesy ladybug that happens to sit on a funky old camera.

Needless to say that didn't happen as the seller was reluctant to sell me a cutesy ladybug for the price of a very expensive camera equipment with an inconsequential accessory.
hmmmm… there are nice people on eBay after all.

It took me lots of rejection from Leica store assistants around Hong Kong, hours surfing eBay to finally stumble upon the ladybug soft shutter release button moons later.

… and now?

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

Flustered.

I felt my cheeks burning red.

In fact, I could just feel the heat rising from my neck upwards.

But I can't be concern about that. I would be fine. I'm not going to die of some discomfort.

I have to search for my ladybug. But where? How?

{light bulb} moment

or rather one too many detective movies/series …

I decided to walk to one end of Leicester square and started progressing one square foot at a time forward, taking an abrupt U-turn as I reach the end and covered one square foot at a time. For some strange and inappropriate reasons I hear my brain reciting the Hail Mary!

But that must have worked… the Heavenly Gods probably thought they'd spare this wacko brain {me} who's about to join the hungry homeless folks wandering around in her pursuit of finding a ladybug no bigger than the tinniest of her finger nail.

… breakfast meeting forgotten.
… flight time totally out of my mind.

That was the day I stared at Leicester Square's footpath ...

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

We had breakfast at St. Martins.

Mueseli with yogurt for me. A full English for him.

{"mmmmm… yummy Portobello grilled mushroom" I thought, trying not to appear rude staring at his plate.}

ouch! … and how long ago did the world mourn???

2011-11-25T22:28:00.001+08:00

I am so gonna get boo-ed and blasted with this blog entry b..bb..but, when you note brilliance you just can't ignore it and being geeky {read: altruism} I just must share. Every cell in my body begs me to share!

So one way or the other - hate or love - enjoy!

50 Reasons NOT 2 Date A Photographer {re-blogged}

2011-11-23T23:38:00.000+08:00

Can't take credit for this blog entry … ripped it off {with some personal adaptations} from here purely in the interest of sharing a good laugh!

They rather hold their bulky camera, than hold hands with you.
On a romantic date, you’ll watch the sun go down and think “Wow this is gorgeous” and they’ll go “mirror lock, tripod, and stop down f/8 at 1/125.”
You’ll never be able to enjoy tv, movies, or magazines because they’ll point out all the visual flaws.
They like to sit in obscure coffee shop and voyeuristically watch people for great lengths of time.
If you’re taking a walk outside and you come across some “interesting light” they will make you sit/stand while they take a photo of anything but you.
You’ll never get to enjoy freshly cooked meals because they’ll spend 15 minutes taking 20 variations of the same dish with their iPhone.
They get angry when your friends go up to them and say “I am interested in photography, can you recommend a good camera for me? Nothing professional I just want to take pretty pictures.”
You’ll wait longer for them to finish analyzing art in a museum than you’ll wait at the dmv.
Same goes with old used bookstores.
When you think they’re giving you their undivided attention, they’re really wondering how they could fix you with a little Clone Tool and Patch Tool.
Or they are actually using you to not look so creepy as they people watch everything going on around you.
They rather drop $1,000+ on new glass than a purse for you.
You can’t take a photo with them without taking at least five more.
If you ask them if you look fat, they’ll say “don’t worry I can photoshop you later.”
They’ll never photoshop something simple for you if the content is not up to their “standards.”
That photo they randomly took of you yesterday? Good luck getting them to send it to you.
They spend all their time on the computer (and not for porn).
They can’t have a normal conversation with throwing acronyms and random numbers.
They still use film cameras.
They spend a lot of time with people cooler than you i.e. models, actors, musicians, successful rich people.
They’ll be fussy over the position of a common household object, like a coffee cup.
They won’t return your calls or text messages, but you can bet they’re still posting pics on Instagram.
They like watching old films that you’ve never heard or will ever understand.
They like looking at weird things in general.
Instead of having penis-envy, they have camera-gear-envy.
If there’s a natural disaster in a far away land, they’re already on a plane going over there.
Everything is watermarked.
They think everyone else’s photos suck.
They want to color correct a lot of scenes from Twilight and Jersey Shore (not that they will ever watch it).
They hate rainbows, especially ones spinning in a circle.
Whenever you’re in a group talking and the conversation goes deep, they’re taking notes in some form of Moleskine.
They use over priced Moleskine notebooks.
They like trespassing into old abandoned buildings filled with health hazards.
They always want to show a new photo they took, but don’t really care if you like it or not.
They hate your n00bie friend’s new artsy profile picture.
Bright, sunny days make them sad, but cloudy, overcast days are apparently great!
They’ll take you into places that have “culture” as well a high chance of getting mugged.
Your birthday present will be a photo of something/someone you have no interest in or idea off/who.
You can’t go anywhere new without them stopping to take a photo of everything and anything.
They will always bug you to be a test subject/stay out of the frame.
Nothing can ever be naturally pretty, everything must be fixed in Photoshop.
Bringing their camera means, bringing 50lbs of equipment.
If you break any of their things on accident, you’ll owe them thousands of dollars.
You can’t get them a birthday/Christmas present without spending at least $500
They are natural hoarders, collecting and keeping piles of old newspapers, packaging, magazines, and other things that “inspire” them.
They are weird and geeky.
They have hard drives of photos, but probably have printed 10 images.
They are always secretly judging your creativity.
If you’re ever in auto mode, they laugh at you.
They orgasm every time they learn a new lighting technique.

guys, how many of these are you guilty off???

life at the crossroads turns into a Bollywood film!

2011-11-20T12:12:00.000+08:00

I not too long ago picked my shattered heart from the floor while keeping a straight face and continuing the conversation in a controllable tone. If my ex-Boss had been in the room or my Personal Executive Coach for that matter, they would have somersaulted with such elated joy that their toes would touch the fluffy clouds in the clear blue skies just witnessing my composure. I have arrived … though consistency is the key, and both had acknowledge this journey of improvement since 2 years back, constantly encouraging and reminding me about consistency!

Bursting into tears the moment the toilet door was securely shut behind me, all I could see was a long, dark, cold, lonely tunnel with walls closing in on both sides and one lonely shadow … mine.

Not only was my "world" collapsing, I am losing a dear friend and supporter.

A person who delights me and cheers me up at my lowest moment.

A worldly person whom I love engaging with; topics varying from the three Abrahamic religions, literature, travel to cricket.

Being someone with "relator" as my first strength {base on Gallup's Strength Finder} and "individualisation" as the 5th strength, 'losing' dear friends such as this has great emotional and mental impact on me.

Sure, there are others around, but the fact is, the number of friends who falls into this special category are fast dwindling. Besides, this guy is super special!

The silver lining of this event however was: it created such a great jolt and sent shock waves down my morale and values system that it caused me to take some action - finally!

to focus on myself…

again, something my ex-Boss, Personal Executive Coach and other self assigned wise Mentors around me had been nagging me for at least 2 years now.

But since I am still very much "in the making", I did not embark on any ground breaking leap of 'progress' and continued to disappoint my CEO by not pulling off the "heroin" I.V. from my wrist; but rather searching for another 'pusher'.

Walking down memory lane, this is what I did over the last 4 to 6 weeks:

10 MINUTES AFTER OFFICIAL NEWS

Cried behind closed doors - thank God I chose to work in this Bank for it's 5-star hotel toilet standards. Great move. First class decision making applied! :p

5 EXCRUCIATING HOURS LATER

Retail therapy - bought 5 pairs of pants from one store! and smugly appreciated the close proximity of KLCC to my work place.

1 DAY LATER

Planned trip to Los Angeles with Val, with the back-up plan for New York.

WITHIN THE WEEK

Sent some 'personal documents' out.

FOLLOWING THE 'personal DOCUMENTS'

Contacted people I've never spoken to {not me at all!!!} and those I've not spoken to in ages!!!

WHILE TALKING TO SOME PEOPLE …

… who have repeatedly expressed that my 'heroin junkie' habit is a bit too much for their affordability, I turned my attention to plotting escapism routes and planning for a personal rehabilitation - Zululand Cheetah Conservations here I come … or any other possible Gap Year opportunities that includes chasing gas and dust particles in the North Pole.

IN BETWEEN HERE and THERE

attended to 'stranded' friends in need of help;

…. including taxi-ing people around

…. {grrr… I hate driving, but somehow that seems to fit into the 'therapy'}

…. giving some financial handouts

…. {something I've been meaning to stop, beginning with saying 'NO' to books loan requests}

…. loaned 4 books out!

…. {I'm a slow leaner in some aspects}

WEEK TWO

Seriously considered going cold turkey with the 'heroin addiction' … partly fueled by Steve Job's view of life and his infamous speech.

Partly having my nose rubbed into the gravel by my CEO when I seek counsel from him - to bring the Social Enterprise Val and I had built - Scrap-n-Crop.com - to another level rather than waking up some 20 years later to the realization that being a corporate 'slave' for 35 years had not prepared me for my next 20 years of life in formal retirement.

as WEEK TWO PROGRESSES

with the Groupon deal Val and I did for our Social Enterprise - Scrap-n-Crop.com - ongoing … errr… we are NO Stevania or Steve-whatever! There's no way I can stomach the daily operational headaches and heartaches coupled with the errands, chauffeur and care giver responsibilities that comes with working @ home.

A timely and good realization denoting the existence of God {one that loves me at least} in my life.

WEEK TWO DRAWS TO AN END

Totally feeling and humming "love is in the air" with a sweet, stable, dependable and sincere guy.

{I think. I hope.}

the END {of WEEK TWO}

I said "yes" … felt deliriously happy and calm.

Totally seeing a future together… and like all true "love affairs", the "yes" I uttered disappointed a high percentage of people in my life who is in disbelief and shocked over my choice.

MY LIFE TAKES ON A TWIST: IT'S A BOLLYWOOD FILM {somewhere in the middle of} WEEK 3

Right at the "solemnization fire" with Mr. Stable, Dependable and Sincere, a sexy, irresistible, exciting proposition comes from Mr. Tall, Dark and Dangerous without any obligation.

"Just give me 5 days and walk down this path with me," he said.
"When I want something, I am shameless…" he carries on.

I was tempted to play with fire! I told Mr. Stable, Dependable and Sincere about my intention.
To my horror Mr. Tall, Dark and Dangerous {herein known as the 'Dark Side'} had informed Mr. Stable, Dependable and Sincere of his devious intentions and "my love" - Mr. Stable, Dependable and Sincere - consented my meeting with the 'Dark Side'.

I found myself floating on halogen clouds with the 'Dark Side'.

How was I possibly deliriously happy a few days ago? That was an erroneous assumption.

A DAY LATER … as WEEK 3 {draws to an end}

My life is no longer a Bollywood Film. It's a Bollywood Film about CIRCUS!!!

The 'old lover' comes back knocking on the door with a brighter and bigger 'engagement ring'.
With this offer I had always known what to expect: Cold, Transactional, Mutually Fulfilling Financially and enough of Intellectual Stimulation to last a lifetime.

However, unlike the day before, I was not flattered nor floating … if felt as if I had fallen into a bed of thorns. I was beyond confused.

I wished someone would throw me in front of an oncoming train. That way (a) I don't need to make any decision, (b) no one gets hurt, and (c) if it's not classified as suicide, the Conventional PA, Life and Takaful Life kicks in!

{insurance is appears seems to be my "recreational drug addiction" if my pay cheque is my "heroin"!}

WEEK THREE ENDS

I spoke to "my love" after I had an endorphin burst in my brain from contorting body parts to align chakras whiles hypnotized by ashram type music.

I affirmed my decision:

through thick and thin with sprinkling of 'sugar and spice',
'sexy' is what we shall create as a team …

I am relieved.
But not calmer. Just numb.

This must be the right choice though.

It feels right {I think}.

I feel that the Heavenly Gods are smiling down at me {I think}.

… as for those I have disappointed with my decision to take the rough road with the worst risk-rewards returns, well, they have loved me all these years … they will come around. They know I am a sucker for pain!

- - - - - - - - the end {not} - - - - - - - -

.and since this is my life … yes, the life of Penelope Gan …

it just is never straight forward and easy…

and like all Bollywood films that never seems to draw to an end, with unsuspecting twist and turns even as you sit with a backache and droopy eyes from Bollywood over dose, the protagonist is always undecided and the antagonist relentless … and such was the weeks to come ...

EARLY in WEEK FOUR

The 'old lover' leaves a short message requesting to speak.

I reacted with what seems like a nonchalant "whatever" …
Not because I was suffering from an over inflated ego. Not because of lack of interest.
It's just that I am confused and numb. I had decided to 'go with the flow' - whatever that means as well.

Incapable of saying 'NO' and being rude, I continued to wreck my brains for a way to say a nice 'NO' - whatever that means - blocking any thoughts and decision on the following choices:

'sexy adventurous' Media Industry (Doha-Nairobi)

'old lover' in Consulting (Kuala Lumpur)

'my love' in Corporate (Kuala Lumpur)

In the meantime I officially terminatied my current relationship.
Cutting off any strings and attachments.

Elated?

NO. Still NUMB.

WEEK FOUR ends with almost NO interruptions

The 'old lover' cajoles me to take a nibble off the fat, juicy carrot being dangled in front of me.

Fleeing - in my usual cowardice fashion of not wanting to hurt anyone - I bought time yet again, prolonging my 'pain' and 'suffering'.

WEEK FIVE crazy blast off

Accepted the 'old lover' nibble proposition in the form of travel for them to start brandishing their sexier offerings in the region as well as allowing them to feed and cater to my egoistical boost of being included in the 'actuarial club' despite dropping out of my Applied Mathematics and Actuarial Science major in university! Needless to say I was duly impressed and had it just been me and the 'old lover' at the altar, it would have been a no-brainer.

I did not confide in 'my love' about my intended short rendezvous … but guilt got the better of me. I texted him while cruising down the highway to the airport, asking him out for lunch the week after. A stickler of honesty and integrity, I have placed myself squarely in a conundrum with those text messages; clueless as to the context of the lunch meeting and thus begin another dimension of my 'pain' and 'suffering'.

What do I tell him?

Is there anything that I want to tell him?

Have I made the final decision between him and the 'old lover'?

Do I leave it to faith?

Do I allow my future to be decided upon my split-second and hormonal swing reaction to what 'my lover' says over lunch?

And if that wasn't cruelty in the highest order in my books, WEEK FIVE ends with a brand new proposition to escape all the craziness here for Doha by a senior member of the Bank for the financial industry; not media! which equates to way,way, way more moo lah and stability.

bah!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Frankly, I wonder {too often to the point of it being unhealthy} what these people see in me.

Don't get me wrong. It's not that I am ungrateful or aloof … rather this is the reaction and self inflection of a not-so-confident perfectionist with OC{P}D.

.- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

There's no real way to pinpoint the exact timeline of the above occurrences and it's meant to be so.

I had initially scheduled a release of this blog some where in December 2011, but decided 20 November is a great date purely from a symmetry stand point of 20112011 … you know how I tick anyways … so, no explanation needed!

Gen-Y trades wifi, social media freedom for hard cash?

2011-11-18T23:58:00.000+08:00

.
interesting
makes me wonder if I have comfortably fallen into the "know-no-saurus" category; an affectionate name we used to call some Baby Boomers in the Bank due to their {in}ability to handle our social media, social networking and all that is funky approach to employee engagement.

In all fairness, majority of the Senior Management team never opposed it; rather rooted and supported us ... plus jumped on the bandwagon. Some getting hooked, others falling off along the way.

To me fair, some were already on them before we embarked on the campaign and implementation of the various medium.

... and within a year, they had all traded in their Blackberry-es for the iPhone; our official phone.

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

In any case, I've received a number of personal emails and calls on my blog topic - gimme back microboredom. Most chided me on it despite agreeing on the social degradation the lack of microboredom had created. To keep it short and sweet, let's just say I was whacked for the microboredom piece!

Well, for those of you who don't know, I celebrated when my mobile phone went missing and was adamant to be without one. I had a bet going ... actually several bets in the following forms:

will I last the 7-day 'NO PHONE' self impose ban?
if I do, will I take it to the next level of permanent mobile connectivity retraction?
if I don't, will I get a Blackberry or an iPhone?

Let's say none of the above held true ... and sorry guys who bet-ted.

I was so filial {read: afraid of my mother's nagging}, I quickly gave in; accepting the need to get a mobile phone on day 5, but resisted to have one physically on me until day 9. Just to spite everyone, I took my maid's basic Nokia phone.

Even with the above bygone days long forgotten, I am still with one of the most old fashioned smart phones - not counting the official Blackberry - which exudes boring in any case.

Anyways, this is not about me {and apologies for my inability to step out of my innate Libran need to be narcissistic}, this is about an interesting graphical representation (info graphic) of the next generation's work expectations done by Cisco and reproduced above.

Thanks SMZ for sharing - you are simply the best - in my books at least!

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

interesting

makes me wonder how many people actually live in the real world and have hired people or are looking for a serious job opportunity and career.

Even if one were to use the info graphic within a tightly confined geographical context and one of an affluent and developed nation {suggesting the United States of America here, which is where the data is coming from anyways, but questionable about the "affluent" bit as of now}, this argument of "The Next Generation's Work Expectations" will hardly hold true.

In a tight labour market, a rude awakening will unfortunately hit these young, free spirited, parent-reliant job seekers as they discover that it will be the EmployeRs expectations that rules the day with a disproportionately high numbers of job seekers versus jobs available.

Trading in wifi, social media access, freedom of mobility and work sites for hard cash will be a farce the moment their reserves and handouts from mom and dad dries up as they enter the workforce. With the need for hard cash to sustain their desires for multiple gadgets … we'll have to see who's expectations are met and who's rules rules the job market.

Nonetheless, neither should corporations across the globe sweep aside the expectation of the Gen-Y as they will be the mainstay and fast becoming the majority of the workforce demographics. Recognising how ingrained and 'important' social networking in today's society is important and if harnessed correctly can produce desired results.

The trick therefore lies in tailoring towards the New Generation's expectations while balancing the books.

GOOD NEWS: it appears that "the carrot and stick" tactic remains unchanged.
Corporations just got to figure out how to prepare the new species of carrot for a different palate!
.

L.O.V.E sucks!

2011-11-14T02:52:00.000+08:00

i am convinced love is the BIGGEST joke ever in life

Sure, in my case it's definitely infatuation.

But love, infatuation, crush {as the teens calls it} they are all one but the same in terms of the emotional chaos and distraction it results in.

Whilst it's noble, almost serene in its projection from a philosophical stand point - being a state of mind or virtue that represents human kindness, compassion and affection - or even from a scientific and evolutionary point of view where it's plain brutal facts of a function that keeps us together against menaces and facilitates the continuation of the species, it is the "chemical love" that's creating a storm in my teacup, to put it mildly, that I abhor.

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

How is it possible NOT to have any cyber footprint in this age?

And yet that holds true and puts my patience to test!

When it comes to my patience, we all know how badly I can fair.

The upside of this is: rest assured I won't have the temperament to poison anyone to death … the most common method employed by the fairer sex in all domestic and spouse related murders - strictly FYI.

This explains my reluctance to change my 'single' status as I know deep down in my heart I'll eventually develop the mens rea to want to prematurely terminate my other half at some repetitive points along the collective future time line we chose to take on.

Anyways, that's for another day.

Here's an interesting discovery - but staying true to my confused, complex, contradictory nature - I hate being stalked and googled {yet have multiple blog sites and websites}. But I have tried my hands stalking and exhausted every means of tracking and finding information on him over the past few weeks.

I remembered reading his Linked-In profile {read: boring and nothing I had not known}, but in my desperate need to 'hold' on to something, even boring trumps exciting …b..b..bbBBut, the profile doesn't show up again despite numerous creative attempts through Spotlight and other inner recesses of information layered up and stored by Mac.

It's now past 2:30 am and my mind is far from receding into 'sleep' mode.

Every synapses is jiggling; anxious and alert about the possibility of connecting something… about him. But it is a VOID - save for one lousy corporate website results that keeps appearing; one where he 'sits' on the 'all-so-important-people' list. The type of list I'll run away from and hide in the darkest and deepest cave should my name ever appear on; forgetting my claustrophobic state of mind.

What am I trying to find so desperately?

dirt

Even the faintest of stain on him. A microscopic size spec will do.

Noooo… I am not wanting to destroy him.

I am trying not to destroy me {from admittedly self destruction}

uh huh … my current behavior and obsession sure seems to indicate quite the opposite.

But you don't get it; so please do not pre-judge me.

I am saving me from a broken heart …

I NEED to see him in his less than decent, cultured, stable, brilliant ways. Calculated and guarded with the occasional burst of cheekiness and flippant statements - the glimpses of "I am comfortable and informal with you" - plus the over use of emoticons. Things that usually produces the same negative reaction in me as hearing nails being scratch over a black board, but when it comes from him, it's an: awwww...

From him, it flips my heart over.
I skip in the air.

I don't want to.

I can't.

I MUST not.

Heavenly Gods, please I beg you, please give me dirt. Just one.

I can't go on re-reading his emails and short messages endlessly.

'Jump' with hope and anticipation at every blip my phone produces … silently praying that the 'envelope' icon when depressed will produce a message from him.

… but it's not him!

sinking my self into a decidedly foul mood with a whirlwind of negative thoughts intercepted by foolish girlish flights of fancy and hope.

I can't do this any more.
I can't be clocking the hours, minutes, seconds before I get a response.

Gut feel tells me he's fast asleep beside a warm body now as I type this.

I wonder what she's like. I wonder how the kids in the nearby room are like.

Fact is I don't know any of this for sure.
Fact is I have to flush him out of my system. It's not a matter of choice here ...

STOP!!!!

I command my mind time and time again.

I need to be pre-occupied, I tell myself many atimes.

I need to get away … now

………………… ……… ……… … far

What have I done?

What is wrong with me?

He is not even my kind - I've always been allergic to the 'nice', 'fair skinned', 'un-callous hands', and worse of all 'vertically challenged' type - the latter rendering all my beloved minimum 4" high heeled Giorgio Armani, Louboutin, Fendi …etc. redundant!

{sigh. I should think shoes - for that few seconds where I typed the above, I was feeling fine!}

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

Love is the triumph of imagination over intelligence.

Henry Louis Mencken

TGIFriday to OMG-its-Friday!

2011-11-11T00:00:00.000+08:00

There's a good reason why I do NOT subscribe to evangelist type religion.

I'd rather like the ambiguous, follow with blind fate orthodox type religions.

If they tell you to rub ashes on your forehead, be it.

Wail and cry against a slab of vertical stack of stones, be it.

If you're to hit yourself with a beech branch without flinching and walk down uneven cobblestone streets dripping blood along the way … errr… that's where I draw the line.

Penance comes with pain - noted.

But the pain in question has to be considered, pondered while sipping pipping hot cups of Earl Grey and slept over super soft down pillows before proceeding with a decision.

That, truthfully, is how I operate.

There's nothing more 'painful' than long sermons though.

The senseless happy clap-py sessions to attain elevated sense of euphoria - spiritual or other forms.

As life has it, you're handed a bad hand of cards from the deck time to time.

And as life has it, we are to be constantly tested by the Heavenly Gods.

I am sitting in a 'sermon'.

I sit in 'sermons' almost every Friday unless for some miraculous reason I am required {even remotely so} to be present somewhere else other than the office.

These Friday 'sermons' have resulted in me being probably the only person {if not living micro-organism} in the universe who hates Fridays and do not mind Mondays. Since July, the word Thank God It's Friday in my vocabulary had ceased to exist; replaced by Oh My God It's Friday!!!

It's amazing how much trivial people can go into.

It's amazing how long winded (repetitive, not elaborating) a mindless dull topic can carry on.

Today's 'sermon' is about cubicle allocation … and we're clocking in 40 minutes by now.

Void of any curry puffs, kuih lapis and teh tarik that would have at least mirrored us somewhat to the semblance of the civil service, one of which at least I could amuse myself with the thought of 'food tasting' and mental arithmetic as to how much workout is needed to burn off the calories at the gym, I am seriously going berserk restraining myself from yelling:

"WHO THE @#$% {expletives of your choice} CARES?!?! IT'S NOT EVEN OUR DIVISION'S RELOCATION. AND THIS IS STRICTLY THE BANK'S PREROGATIVE, NOT INDIVIDUALS SENSE OF 'OWNERSHIP', 'RIGHT' OR WHO DESERVES THE PRIVACY!!!"

With no other distraction available, I did a quick summation of executive dollars being wasted in this room.

gulp {the curse of knowing every single person's fixed remuneration in this institution!}

+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +

My days are definitely numbered.

This is of course self-imposed.

gimme back microboredom!

2011-11-07T01:28:00.000+08:00

ONE useLESS FACT:

Had these ads existed back in those days {the pixelated sepia days of yesteryears}, I would not have existed on this planet.

why? Simply because if microboredom were arrested 6 decades ago with people toting the likes of iPods, smart phones, tablets and a host of other electronic gadgets or diversions to flee boredom and seek for social connectivity on cyber communities, life today {extrapolated for the pixelated sepia days of yesteryears, that is} would be one of Artificial Intelligence or more probable, a drudge of over activity, information overload and numbness we can't even begin to imagine!

And with that it could only mean one thing: neither of my parent would have met one another as they would be too busy establishing "connections" with pixels and having their lives "~~ful~~filled" by pixels!

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

microboredom

is a term coined by Motorola a few too many years ago as a catch word that refers to the brief moments when we are without a device to distract us from inactivity.

A further drilled-down definition classifies microboredom as 'moments that occurs in three- to six- minute intervals', and these intervals is researched by other philosophers and psychologist {who obviously is mis-funded} to occur anywhere between 5 to 20 times a day.

On a superficial level, microboredom has effected our lives in the form of simplistic, snack-bite sized games such as Solitaire, Tetris, Snake and Angry Birds on our mobile devices, or "interactive" leveling-up games with peers such as Farmville, to our incessant need to broadcast our mundane activities and feelings in Twitter and Facebook.

Not dismissing the overarching point of players like Motorola who took an interest in our personal boredom 'space', microboredom represented enterprises significant opportunity for advertising. These exploitation of our mindshare comes in the from of "micro-sodes" {2-minute long television episodes developed for small mobile devices of Prison Break to 24 Hours}, sponsored quizzes and games, to outright interesting advertisements and blasts.

Whilst I had read about microboredom and am guilty of being one of those exploitative people who had jumped on the bandwagon to develop communication for such mediums I had not thought much about it until recently during my trip to the Balkans where the obsession of finding and tapping on a free wifi was greater than the need of a wandering nomadic Bedouin in search for water.

But even that didn't prompt me to pen anything down until tonight as I sit in my dimly lit hotel room … re-examining the focus group participation I had been invited for recently and the conference I am attending.

It was a high level focus group discussion exploring the use of social media, effective communication medium and styles in the cross-generational workplace.

Discussions took on a slight over emphasis on the use/importance of social media and the need for workplaces {not just enterprises utilizing it for marketing and advertising} to embrace social media to reach out effectively to their Gen-Y employees. There were a few interesting thoughts and opinions, but nothing ground breaking in my opinion; partly due to the fact that this is rather a pas`se´ topic by now, but more importantly because I have been doing so for a few years now at the workplace {read HERE on the social network created by a few of us in the Bank as an example} - which is in the first place why I was invited into the group to talk about the experiences and effectiveness of them.

What ensued however surprised me.

It was a separate conference independent of the focus group activity.
A short discussion on the above started the day, followed by a conference slot given by their Regional Practice Head in Change and Communications to wrap up the sessions for the day. "marketed" as THE MUST ATTEND speaker/topic I regret to have missed it as I was in discussion with some of their other personnel on other pressing personal matters. The speaker did seem to have impressive credentials and real life implementation experience. Someone whom you'd want to listen to. But alas … some things are just not meant to be.

Nonetheless during the lunch break, I had the good fortune of trying out a 'game' they had created for sale on a demo iPad which suffice to say was akin to: Angry Birds Teaches Employees on Benefits.

Before I played it, I had thought it was a rather funky and clever business proposition when I was told about it. Judging by the session given on Medical Benefits and the way forward {I am so getting the titles wrong here, but too lazy to look it up for accuracy, you'd have to live with the gists of it}, I was convinced this was going to be mind boggling, brilliant… enough to get me to sign on the dotted line.

But as soon as I was at it … {yawn} I WAS BORED!

… even an umbrella thrown in for those who made it past Level 2 didn't inspire or motivate me to pass Level 1.

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I generally tend to think that anyone who says that "I get bored easily" or complaints that "I am bored" frequently feels a bit superior to the rest of us. Almost pious if you like. See, those statements generally gives me the impression that they have advance acumen and/or a fascinating, extremely important, therefore busy, life in general. It's almost like achieving effortless ennui can only mean that they are savvy and cosmopolitan enough to have the "been there, done that" attitude.

But to flee short fleeting moments of boredom toting electronic gadgets today does seem a tat paradoxical doesn't it? for these superior beings - no?

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

TWO useFUL FACT

A decade ago it was perfectly normal - a fact of life, in fact - to have time ticking away, as we stood in line or sat in gridlock bumper-to-bumper traffic or simply gaze idly into space waiting for something to happen.

This 'emptiness' and stillness was never thought as boredom.

Contrary to popular belief today, we don't get bored because we don't have enough interesting things to do. We get bored because we cannot connect in a deep and meaningful way with something{one} and/or focus on anything at all.

In our current over stimulated, hyper entertained and multi tasked world, often our minds simply can't cope and 'land' on a thought or subject long enough to be engaged or arrive at any meaningful comprehension before being diverted by another stimuli. As a result of the onslaught of information and distraction received, we tend to be numb, consequently dismissing most stimuli that passes our sub conscious state of mind as "boring" and thereafter making the mistake of classifying our exhausted mind as bored.

The 'stillness' experience a decade ago is seriously not a bad deal.

It forces introspection and brings out life's most quintessential human moments, but as modern philosopher Dallas Willard said:

"Silence is frightening because it strips us as nothing else does, throwing us upon the stark realities of life."

Most of us would rather give up our kidneys than explore our inner voice or dig out the skeletons buried deep in our dark closets. We tend to refuse to stop reacting to the external world, and to explore and listen to the internal ones out of fear and insecurity.

We rather not believe that we are most human when we feel dull or bored.

Discovering the new, sometimes profound things, be it an epiphany about a relationship or a new invention, is not our priority!

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Granted, there's expectation for one to emerge from a situation with an accomplishment and often people emerge from boredom feeling as if they had accomplished nothing.

But is accomplishment {at all times} really the point of living?

Like it or not, to be able to be in a state of restlessness is one of life's greatest luxuries; a sign of progress from the centuries of pursuing survival all the time.

Like it or not, boredom, nothingness, dullness is the essential human emotion that underlies art, literature, philosophy and even science … some might argue love.

As for me the long drive home after a tiring, challenging and frustrating day forces ruminations for me. Pang of homesickness in airport terminals puts the journey in perspective. My life choices begs to be revisited as I lay still into the late nights at strange cities and hotels.

Last but not least, there's nothing more annoying in my books when straddled over a meal or on a road trip with a group of people fingering their smart phones and iPads; "conversing" and "connecting" with others who are not even physically present! … a situation constantly present during my Balkan trip with friends; painfully reminding me of the breakdown of communication we experienced …

and admittedly I too was glad with every phone blip denoting incoming emails, short messages and the signaling of: whooohooooooo free wifi detected!

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YOUR PERSONAL 'STILLNESS QUOTIENT' TEST

Can you sit and do nothing for an hour or two without feeling guilty, bored or frustrated?

Can you be by yourself for a whole day and enjoy it?

Do you feel restless or frustrated when a TV or car radio—or some other sort of noise—isn't in the background?

3rd Broken Heart, 5 Gaps {and 1 Gap Year?}

2011-11-04T18:18:00.000+08:00

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He broke my heart.
{This is the 3rd time - the broken heart in a span of week, and not him breaking my heart 3 times!}

The broken heart:
This time, it was the confirmation of his impending departure.

After 5 years, I had found him painful to deal with; he hardly seems to hear and appears to have bad time management.

"He irritates everyone", if one were to go solely by his reputation in the market.
But it is quickly followed by: "but everyone loves him!"

He's like one of those things that just gets under your skin and refuses to let up, I suppose.

Nonetheless, I've always adored him.

Maybe coz he has a soft sport for me and gives me the time of the day.

Maybe it's coz he hears me out … when it's important, and takes the extra effort to assist and pave the way for me.

Maybe its coz he respects me as a person and gives me credit when it's due.

Maybe it's coz he values my opinion, laughs at my jokes and shares experiences on many fronts with me.

What I know with certainty is this:

i am inspired by him

. energetic . fresh ideas . strong influential skills . innate ability to individualised .

The only senior management I had seen taking the pains to carefully select words and craft motivational statements in his people's performance appraisal; even if its an unsatisfactory performance.

He's one with a heart of gold.

One who would stick his neck out when its right.

One who can be counted as a friend and supporter.

Trying not to show any emotions at the news and resisting calling him, I spent the rest of the day at work with labored anticipation, jittery nerves and delicate water ducts that threatens to swell up from time to time.

Unable to concentrate, I decided to reopen the draft copy of my resume and complete it.

Holding back from sending it out to consultancy firms for the longest of time, I found myself drafting an email to the ex-Malaysian practice Managing Director of one of the world's leading global professional services company that assist organizations improve performance through effective people, risk and financial management. After all, it's the largest and oldest in its field. Staffed with enough actuaries, mathematicians, economist - like myself, my type of people.

Beyond that, I know very little about them.

At 6:15 p.m. I took my jacquard Prada out for a walk heading towards the car park.

By 7:00 p.m. I had parked my car, took a photo of the parked car (acknowledging my lack of concentration at that juncture to be reliable for a recall later), bought 5 pairs of Gap pants, had the hem measurements done, collected my alteration collection slip, paid for the parking and walked towards my car. I was feeling a lot calmer by then; though still in a daze. I've never bought Gap pants. I only own 2 other Gap clothes in my life … till now.
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{big long pause and sigh}

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Galle and Male will be the new India in my life.

Whoops! Got to start liking those "chicken of the sea"

{read HERE for my opinion on them - the "chicken of the sea"}

… or perhaps embark on a Gap Year myself, given that I can't decide on the various propositions received.

The only thing I have decided is my very own 'expiration' / 'deadline' here... and thanks to he who broke my heart the 3rd time; I was woken from my stupor and took charge of my life.

For that, I am ever thankful and can't help but remember and recount all the reasons I adore him.

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

Like a vast majority of my posts, the occurrences are real {exaggerated to an extend as my imagination and inner voice/thought would allow} and are often posted as an after-event, days, weeks, months and sometimes years later.

Travel postings in particular and my whereabouts are deliberately delayed or sequences jumbled for security reasons.

For this particular post, I had to edit and re-edit many times over to coincide the publishing time with the formal announcement being made at the Bank. Posting with regards to the Bank are often heavily crypted for privacy and confidentiality purposes.

finally! the Government strikes a cord with me ...

2011-11-01T23:53:00.000+08:00

Depending on the cheque amount, I might finally vote in the upcoming elections!

My wish? A 4-hour work week?

2011-10-30T15:15:00.000+08:00

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I had heard great things about The 4-Hour Workweek by Tim Ferriss, but the gimmicky title always kept me from reading it.

I am without shame a snob when it comes to business/management/self help books. Void of a genuine and reputable PhD {though I know how permanent(ly) head damaged these people can be} after the author's name and empirical evidence, I will NOT read it … unless dictated by someone with authority or I have seriously nothing else to read!

But with rave reviews of Tim's new book The 4-Hour Body, with yet another annoying gimmicky title, I was convinced that there is something to his books and got me started at the beginning to see what all the fuss was about.

Naturally being someone who cannot enter a bookshop {or stationery shop or pharmacy for that matter} without loading the shopping basket up, and the need to collect the 10 Kinokuniya stamps to get a discount {which is stupid coz it’s only a 10% discount – or less, given that it is literally impossible to round the bills up to perfect splits of RM 50 per discount stamp}, I finally bought the book.

Funnily enough the entire raison d’être of the book, to reduce the amount spent working because it is boring and meaningless, does not really apply to me.

Other than the initial resistance of rising in the mornings and abandoning the warmth (and smell) of my bed, I fall more in the “love what you do and you will never work again a day in your life” category. In the case of the former, I attribute it to inertia and my innate dislike for change.

But, I generally have nothing to complain.

I have ‘carved’ work to be a:

“do what I like and love …
tolerate and get over the boring but important stuff,
but only if it falls in the ‘means to the ends’ category of work”

Furthermore, with annual leave of 26 days and public holidays that clocks up a generous 17 days, I can go on fun mini vacations all the time. Can. But I don’t want. Preferring to go for lengthy ones at a time.

I am also unconvinced about Ferriss’ analysis that boredom sits on the opposite spectrum of happiness; i.e. happiness is opposite to boredom. And by that I don’t mean this to sound like a bad English class, but rather Ferriss’ idea that we should keep ourselves active and occupied. I find that hyperactivity to be in itself a tiring pursuit and counter productive.

why? Why work for work’s sake?

I know that I am running the risk of sounding a hypocrite here, given that I do not leave my desk till late … but ah ha! That’s between the choice of chocking mother earth up burning diesels in Kuala Lumpur’s gridlock traffic {despite driving one of the most energy efficient vehicles ever built} or spending more time perfecting work I love doing {notwithstanding the fact that I am a perfectionist at all costs!} or pursuing personal activities while desk bound like blogging this entry.

My point however – in contention with Ferriss’ – is:

isn’t crowding one’s live
with activities to tick off the clock
an escapism from finding deeper contentment
with ourselves and the lives we chose to live?

That said, to be fair to Ferriss, he did in the later chapters of the book espouse doing things that strikes a cord with us and to do things slowly.

As I had not set out to trash The 4-Hour Workweek, but rather write my personal views about it after noticing it being one of the top 10 books that had affected an Executive Coach (EC) I had engaged for my Mid-Manager level development programme at the Bank. Whilst the EC had not elaborated lengthily as to how/what/why The 4-Hour Workweek had impacted his life, it got me thinking nonetheless, if by finally procuring The 4-Hour Workweek and reading it, had The 4-Hour Workweek left me any impressions? Has it changed my life?

Sure, it’s a famous book.
Sure, Tim Ferriss had openly admitted on his own self publicity and promotion – and kudos for being a good marketer.
But good marketing and publicity on its own is not enough to make the Best Sellers listing.

If anything, the book provided extremely practical productivity improving advice, some of which I have been adopting, hence not finding the tips gravity defying and new. Naturally, this discovery took many turns of trial and error and time, while someone else who is determine and picks of The 4-Hour Workweek would have the advantage of adopting trial and tested methods immediately.

Friends and bosses who really knows me {and reads my blog} will probably be ‘laughing’ at this book review of mine, given the hours I work and my definition of personal pursuits and work. I suppose it’s a debate of nomenclature here and one’s view and definition of the word: ‘work’.

Whilst most people will narrowly confine it as repetitive, mind numbing, boring, tasks that gets you through the day and financially sustains you, I have managed to find pleasure, joy and other intrinsic benefits in work. I have also managed to derive economic gains {be it directly to myself or others} with my personal pursuits and hobbies; thereby blurring what is ‘work’ and ‘hobbies’ by strict traditional definitions.

Whilst most individuals ideal Pareto of work-life balance would lie in the activity itself, mine lies in the emotional gratification derived from any activity; i.e. getting meaningful things done… if I am seriously making any sense here.

However, one thing remains true for me regardless of definition and ‘separatism’ of “work” vs. “personal pursuit” or in lay man’s term “work” – “life”: I adopt the philosophy of increasing the productivity by doing the same amount of work in less time; putting more emphasis on planning and going a great job the first time round.

In the spirit of Ferriss’ The 4-Hour Workweek, here are some of the things I am already doing; some for years, some recently … as I’m still a person in the making … and wished Tim Ferriss or someone like him had written a similar book earlier:

·    I do NOT read the newspapers or watch news daily. For the most part news are sensationalised, irrelevant, advertising generators or dribbles of political parties in power. The hottest scandals are easily within earshot around the water cooler machines and/or over lunch … often contributing nothing to your depository of knowledge. I chose to read the analysed and condensed news from The Economist {again, only sections that are relevant to me else you’d never get through the entire month’s issue}, Time {wishing an equivalent of Al Jazeera in printed form will emerge for fair and unbias reporting}, National Geographic {more from habit than anything else, but makes good toilet break reads with nice glossy photos and the occasional pull-out maps} and occasionally some tech-y sites and magazines to know the latest advancements {not fad} when I get my hair done or in airport terminals.

·    I do NOT own a Blackberry on purpose {uuurggghhhHHHHHH not for long now given the requirements of all the new job offers}. In the same spirit I do not want an Android, iPhone or any smart phone in the market. If things are URGENT, they should not be sent via short messaging system or email.

   In addition, I do not response to work messages or calls after hours, during lunch and dinner, in meetings {unless it’s escapism or trying to keep awake in the meetings}, and when travelling internationally – there’s only so much I can do when I’m abroad in far flung countries!

·    I always have a TO DO LIST and stick by it! My TO DO LIST contains only: “urgent” and “important” stuff, with “important” being the priority, and not "urgent" as most people do.

   To incentivize myself and get myself motivated to complete the tasks laid out on my TO DO LIST, I intersperse my TO DO LIST with ‘low hanging fruits’… trust me, it’s easier to get down the list when you see something ‘ah ha! Nice and easy coming up if only you get that uuurrggghHHHHHHH piece of work out of the way.’ and to stick by the self imposed shorter deadlines.

·    I decline most meetings that does NOT have >20% relevant input from me.

   I chair meetings with clear agendas and pre-send meeting agendas, reading materials and synopsis of the materials along with bullet point ‘action / decision’ needed. If possible, I’d like to introduce STAND-UP Meetings and BYO refreshments instructions… but this proposal has been rejected time and time again!

·    I only embark on projects/assignments where I am capable of accomplishing every task needed with at least 80% competency level… this ensure 100% control on the outcome should Murphy’s Law decides to happen.

   But the catch is this: I do NOT do most of the repetitive, low-skilled, low-competency, low-value creating work, or those that places me in a foul mood. I outsource and delegate them to others whom I had gone through the arduous pain and high amounts of time investment on training them {‘training’ is a task that I dread but spend a lot of time in ensuring that’s its done very well since this is a classic example of ‘a means to an end’ type of situation/work}.

·    For repetitive, low-skilled, low-competency, low-value creating work that I still need to do personally, I adopt the batch mode staying true to my Economics training of economies of scale… and in my case it would be something along the lines of blogging for Scrap-n-Crop.com!

·   I keep only 10 or less un-read emails in my Inbox. Leaving a few gives me the false sense of security that I am still important (!!!) and haven’t over-delegated or outsourced my work, but really I mark them unread and flag messages that (1) I may want to go back, (2) may be useful sometime in the week, (3) annoying but needs to be address by this week.

   I make it a point to remove email notifications and stop subscribing to them! from websites, blogs, Facebook, Linkedin etc. But for those that I may want to read, void of anything else to do or as info-tainment, I route them automatically to pre-set ‘Folders’. This way I see only activities I chose to when I chose to.

·   I strive for less clutter. A good way to start is with material goods. I weed out the things I do not (1) even remember owning, (2) have owned but not used for > 12 months, (3) is a hassle to use no matter how cool and good I look with it, (4) have been sitting in their original packaging in a pile at some corner of some room… I’m yet to adopt the harsh Pareto principle here of keeping 20% of things that I use 80% of the time … but thanks to two home break-ins this year, the thieves have taken care of my camera gears, eletronics gadgets, watches and jewelry {most of which I have no recollection during the police report itemization process!}.

·   I try to engage only with KEY decision makers for decisions. Involving more people in the process will not improve the quality of the decision nor would the most probable output of a pro-longed contemplation make a wrong decision any better. Wrong decisions are in any case very quickly ascertain once they have been made and with less people involved, the easier it is to rectify it with reduced variant of time taken for each individual to go through the process of ‘realisation-blame-guilt-admission-(and finally)-action’.

·    Be thankful of the blessings I have and try to live MY life rather than agonizing over why I can't be someone else and worse still, spending the time and energy imitating others (or pleasing others for that matter) … {as I’m still in the making, I do slip into the “why am I not Salman Rushdie” mode from time to time though I can’t quite put a finger as to why Salman Rushdie any more … it was a 15 year old’s dream.}

·    Live for today and enjoy life experiences.

Do read the book - The 4-Hour Workweek – and take cue on how you can take charge of yourself too.

That’s all I can say about its merits. I sure am still in my “work in progress” mode trying to be less of a perfectionist, anal, obsessive compulsive person. Does anyone know a Time Ferriss of such with a book out there?

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lucky me it's not 915,103,765 choices!

2011-10-23T23:30:00.000+08:00

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Did you know that there are more than 915,103,765 ways
of combining six eight-stud lego bricks of the same colour?

..
So?
So, nothing.

This ain't another math entry.

Has there ever been a math entry?

In any case, the 915,103,765 is not a number I had picked format he sky.

I only got the Heinz 57 flavors inspiration when it comes to eye balls rolling ridiculous exaggerated facts about me - which the exaggeration is usually as obvious as a big African elephant standing in your doorway which you cannot possibly not notice (only that this of course is not physically possible - the elephant, dodo! Concentrate - sheesh)

So? What's with the lego bit?, you asked.

Heh heh

Not-a-thing.

Just a random Penelope light bulb moment I thought I would share given that I have no other inspirational juice at the moment with my brain being bogged down or rather squeezed between a 3-sided G-clip / wrench (that don't exist), trying to make a decision. Well, of course if you were to include my present situation as one of the choices, that makes it a 4-sided G-clip / wrench.

AarrrRRRRRRGGGGGGGGhhHHHhhhh…

…………...…………...…………...…………...when choices can actually be a bad thing … more so when expressive me can't even pour it out openly for opinions!

Lucky me it's not 915,103,765 choices!

Imagine that.

That would seriously be the most cruel and diabolical plan any secret agent or spy organization can come up with to torture a person like me.

Someone who doesn't even know how she likes her eggs done.

{wait-a-minute! that puts me in the same league as Julia Roberts' character Maggie in Runaway Bride - another hopeless trivial that occupies my natural RAM - such a waste of capacity!}
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confessions on my L0V3MARKS - Land Rover and Mac

2011-10-15T08:38:00.000+08:00

The sms a few mornings ago did it for me.

sms: Evoque is in Msia!!! Spotted at JPJ Putrajaya. Pics now online. 4 door white model.

He meant the 5-door.

I sped dial Land Rover Malaysia demanding why I wasn’t informed ... only to be calmed down. The official public launch is not due for 2 weeks and as we speak the invites are being sent out. Oh whatever, just as long as I’m in the list.

My good ol’ sales guy then says, “Do you want me to put your name down for booking and you can come in and decide on the customisation?” to which I retorted, “Oye! You think buy candy meh?”

We’re talking about a Range Rover here.

Not a Power Puff Mighty Ranger toy or something like that.

And definitely not candies that gives a child the same effect in the 1950s.

But in a way he’s right.

The sales man.

No... I still stand by the mantra that: CAR sales men are not to be trusted. Especially those with the “USED” pre-fix.

But in this case, he’s right.

This Range Rover is CHEAP. OK, let me rephrase it.

This Range Rover is by far the cheapest Range Rover there is on the market {excluding the used rickety ones}. Starting at just over RM350+K ... man, that’s even cheaper than my all time love – the Discovery – at over RM400+K and a Discovery minds you wears the “Land Rover” badge, this Range Rover is CHEAP.

Also he was not exaggerating nor applying pressure when he said “200 units has been pre-booked. The wait is going to be very long.”

About 3 or maybe 4 months ago, I had gone in to harass them about the impending arrival of the Evoque and back then they had something like 80+ bookings. A few weeks later it came to my attention that my Bank’s Wholesale Director had booked his.

But, I’m a tat hesitant.

{yes, shut your gapping mouth! and read on}

Price tag aside that makes you retrack your steps a tat backwards; the Range Rover Evoque is cheap by relativity, expensive in an absolute sense.

my problem?

I can’t quite reconcile its shape.

Murano meets CRV meets X3 – this is another tragic evolution in the steps of a Honda Civic where the original designs and the designs today bear not a single shred of resemblance at all.

Well, the logical part of the brain says the Evoque was a concept car anyways, and hence never meant to achieve the face-lift or progression of the Range Rover.

But the whiny emotional one laments: still??? It doesn’t look like a Range Rover.

Next, there’s the pricing.

At RM350+K – sure without the bells and whistles – where does it position itself?

And as incredulous as this is going to sound: where’s the exclusivity?!? Every Murano ah beng {apology to my friend who drives one} owner is going to so call upgrade.

The Range Rover image is just going to be diluted!

This is very much like the sorry state Apple is in now {in my personal humble opinion}.

Perhaps not the best topic to get into now as everyone continues to moan and groan over the high probability that their fingers will soon be defunct – oops! I meant the passing of an iconic figure and founder of Apple.

But bear with me ...

I have always been an Apple fan and user – the computer that is.

We used to (in the 70s and 80s) pay a ridiculous premium with blind fate that the machine will work {limited support} and in a defiant moronic way proceed to hold our head high and mutter that we Mac-ians are superior when nothing ‘talked’ to our machines and any output on our machines played on the mainstream PCs turns in gibberish pixels. This of course does not even take into account that we kidded ourselves for the longest time that we didn’t need all the frivolous and hopeless array of software, games and applications floating legally and illegally in the open and black market. Given that there were just a handful of us idiots out there, naturally we didn’t have the virus problem our PC counterparts had – but seriously, what commercial market would there be to sell us {idiotic morons} anti-viruses anyways???

So, in any case, with the proliferation of the successful i-gadgets that caught the world’s imagination and stretched the man on the streets logic of wanting something they didn’t even know they wanted {not, needed} designs have been vamped up to be slicker, smaller, lighter and more appealing. Abundance of applications {regardless of its real utility and relevance} were developed and every person on this face of the earth was in ‘power’ and ‘control’ of his destiny; partnering Apple and customising what they think they need and want.

Great machines became cool gadgets that quickly evolved into a rite of passage in modern society across 3 generations; from toothless cataract ridden bent old folks spotting tattoo imagery of Betty Boop Biker Silicon casing to toddlers regressing back to the dark ages tracing alphabet with their finger tips rather than writing with writing instruments and receiving oral education from a well fed cat that has taken over the place of a formal and trained tutor.

None of this frankly bothered me and I for one would openly admit that I am living in such a household, but own nothing more than a 17” MacBook Pro with SSD myself ... purely because I NEED it.

What bothered me is the quality and robustness of the machine built these days.

I was perfectly happy with a machine void of illuminating keyboard and graphic cards that makes the pixel images better than the real 3D object in front of me.

I was competent without the need of all the swipe of a finger, two fingers, three fingers, four fingers, single tap, double tap, pinch, punch {just kidding} track pad that gets me and the machine confused to the point of me resisting any high velocity and force of a fist-and-machine contact.

I was complete without the myriad of “i”-softwares that requires almost no imagination and creativity, just some coordination and spatial ability to ‘connect’ cursor to icon and click.

These modern day wonders that drove fads and changed the cultural landscape had brought down the robustness and reliability of my machine... which in short no longer meets my NEED for a Mac to the ‘T’.

The shorter research and development time, excellerated product life cycle, mass production and the need to jam pack and overstretch the capacity of what it had originally been built for had eroded the joy I derived over the years of getting the job done with zero hassle, effectively and efficiently – the very ethos of what a machine should be, and reason as to why machines were invented by men in the first place.

So with the Range Rover pegged at such a price level what lies ahead does seem like a scary prospect. A possibility of owning a RM350+K of problem that rigs up an expandable bill beyond reasonable proportions. Perhaps...

Plus, if I were to buy the Range Rover now, what do I buy at 40?
Kindda kills the aspiration in a premature way - no? But in the deep creaveses of my heart, the throbing and pumping I feel whispers, "I WANT . I WANT . I WANT"
But
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