Tercemar: Budaya, Agama atau Ego?

Wow. Some really heated exchanges over Sepet, Gubra, and indeed anything related to Yasmin Ahmad. This means that typing "kedai babi" and bilal+anjing in Google would probably get them Googlebots puzzling, Who is this Yasmin Ahmad, and is she going to be more popular than Paris Hilton?

Because deep down, all this furore is NOT really about religion. It's not about preservation of budaya either. You may think I'm wrong (and I'm sure you know you're right), but I think it's about how two films from this little lady really got up some people's asses.

Now, because I can't be bothered to do legitimate work which I'm paid to do, let's pretend that I'm approaching this scientifically (without emotion or bias) and purely academic (without any agenda and revenue potential).

Infatuation junkie, me?

Must. Not. Behave like an idiot.

Let's see how long this one lasts.

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In the meantime, am trying to catch up with work left behind due to AWOL-like flu symptoms last week. Salary is in, so pampered self by eating at Starbuck's today. Sandwich produced strong soporific effect and snoozed expertly in the office. Timely visual feedback enabled suitable arrangement of facial expression as VP Operation came by for a quick review. Proficient use of shortcut keys allow for switching of IMDB window to the test server page. All in all, am waiting for karma to masticate my ass.

Urban pleasures

Ayah asked me once, what is it about living in the city that I enjoy so much. He is a true-blue kampung boy; better Banting than KL, and when he was in the UK he preferred Dundee to Nottingham. (of course this was way back in the 70s, I'm sure Dundee is a sizeable urban jungle now. Ahem.) 

Unlike the rest of my family, I have a genuine affinity for cities. Doing my Masters in Lancaster was absolute torture for me, where there were more sheeps than people, and I truly coveted the rare trips I made to Manchester those days. No doubt that the megalopolis that is Manchester is depressing to some people; the poor urban slums, the dark gloomy old buildings overshadowing grey wet slabs of pavement. There is hardly any greenery to sooth your eyes, save a few spots in spring and summer.

Bridget-Jones moment

I am lonely.

There I've said it. I have not gone to work for the last two days, my boss is overseas, and as a result no one has noticed that I was not where I should have been. My parents didn't know, neither did my sisters. The only person who noticed was my housemate, and only because she came home this time (she usually stays over at her fiance's place).

I think I'm a good candidate for a 2 weeks dead, half-eaten-by-Alsatian spinster, much like our favourite singleton.

Of Annual Dinners

Blogging from the office is not turning out so well, as my conscience glands churn out extra guilt juices, my posts inevitably turn to work issues.

Well, no more! For my thoughts now turn to what I've been up to last weekend, and it was unproductive and does not generate any revenue in the least.

I was searching for a dress. Yup, the company annual dinner has dawned upon us once more. I managed to escape last year's as it coincided with Mama's Open House, but no such excuses this year.

Progress. Or not.

It has been about two weeks since I moved to my new place. I have finally tired of my 2-hour commute (one way, and through Federal Highway. Urgh.) and managed to get a nice shoebox near Ampang.

Nowadays, I sleep more and eat less, which is a Good Thing.

I also seem to be working less. Not a Good Thing.

Where is the fire? The passion for my work has fizzled out. Ii has been a downward slide for some time, which is a pity as year end also spells potential bonus.

Last year was a good haul for me, and in true spirit I squandered my windfall and sold all my shares. Bugger.

But I would like to have another go. My shoebox and I will appreciate any (undeserved) financial reward.

It’s OK.

It’s the end of a long Friday. And I rediscovered this guy.

And this guy.

Enjoy your weekend, ladies and gentlemen.

Anything but this

All of us would never have said this before the downtime, but truly we missed our login page dearly. Such is the attachment, as with oxygen and water, that only  people in the online-based business would truly understand.

I really don’t feel like coming to work tomorrow, because I know that I wouldn’t be able to do hardly any work. And tomorrow’s Friday. I feel cheated. We always slack off on a Friday, but that’s because we do it out of choice. Now that circumstances are forcing me not to do work, I no longer enjoy not doing work during my working hours.

Go figure.

In the Doldrums

Streamyx downtime has crippled our operations. Since Monday.

I’m sure legal eagles of the corporate world in our predicament are rolling around the term “loss of business” on their tongues like a jellybaby.

This has been the worst week I’ve had since last week, which I initially thought was the worst week. Lost two days due to asthma, and came back raring to go in the false hope of catching up. Then TM decided to play silly buggers with their system.

Funny how you still feel tired after doing practically nothing.

My first entry. Again.

Hmmm. Am making a habit of moving around and changing blogs.

Maybe there are other people like me out there?

Hermit bloggers unite!