Reach

The pancake analogy aside, I have to say that I enjoyed my 21st birthday. It wasn't as bad as I had expected (did I really want it to turn out bad? You masochistic bastard you).

It was a blast with me scaring JY (PURE GOLD, that fraction of a second) and enjoying the company of happy people. Special thx to Spenceley ppl- yes Neil, you qualify- who organized the "surprise" bash... Yesla, I was actually (partially) fooled cus of the 7.30pm "reservation" for that restaurant above Ho's Bakery. Thank you all who cooked. 

I shall list all of you out: Natade (chicken), Jet (Prawns), JY(who cleaned up in record time), ZY(AWESOME CAKE!), Yong-Z(for the COOKIES! :D), Neil(for the pasta sauce, i mean, meat dish), Carl (tofu), Hannah, Angel, Germ and Adam (who did a good job as the decoys), Tat gor (who helped sapu the leftovers :P *AND contributed to create mashed potatoes with zhong), Thim weng (for the stuffed chicken), Howe(for pizza) and zhong (for his trademark mashedpotatoes).

:). The dinner made my day. A note to my Angel: Happy Birthday!! Smile always! (Not that you needed that advice anyway) 

**A big thankyou to ym, guoshen, wz and longman for the dinner the day before.

In the meantime, here's something I scribbled down during the dark hours of easter break..

_________________________________________

Creativity is one thing that seems to endlessly flow from those in the entertainment field. Another thing that they have in abundance would be ka chings- a deity of the 21st century. You know, artists can be such show-offs. They create their masterpieces in the hope of receiving worldwide acknowledgement, then they start praying for a windfall that would sustain them for a lifetime. 

Modern art sculptures which possess such quality that you "can't tell the difference between its arms and its arse" are able to fetch over thousands of dollars. What I don't get is why a beautiful painting by the ordinary man on the street can only reach a fraction of that value. Believe me, it's all a big hoax to con the filthy rich, breeding more rich people in the process. 

Then again, it could just as possible be that I'm childishly envious of the fortunes they've accumulated and the skills they possess.

Well, I'm not going to bitch about those who made it into the upper echelons of society by selling their talent. No, this is going to be focused on how a string of articles managed to inspire and convince this scribe of yours to reach for the moon the way he used to.

The simple penning of art is what I'd like to call her articles. They proved to be little beacons of light on a stormy night, an inspiration at a time when I had unknowingly lost my passion for healthy romanticism. It was a rediscovery of sorts, like how one rekindles memory of his/her first love. No doubt, the cheesiness can be overwhelming for the serious war-hardened souls. 

Not for me though. 

As I see it, every writer has their own style: some are renowned for their snide and cynic remarks about everyday issues; some are known foremost for their witty demeanour which forms the backbone of brilliant pieces or work; then there are some, like Alex, who give people the often underestimated optimistic scribbles, shining the spotlight on humanity's triumph over the dark side. Our forgotten pleasures in helping others, the wonders that one genuine smile can work, satisfaction of watching the the average Joes and Janes busy themselves with quotidian chores as we take a ride through the streets of a bustling city... all of these, relived during my sojourn at the page that held her article. 

I'm talking about the little things that fail to even cause a blimp on the radar when they should. Interesting to note that it is this same set of invisible yet tangible human values and traits which rescues us when bureaucracy overdose and the inevitable mortal vices threaten to crush our spirits. 

Some may argue that this is simply akin to garbing the hideous nature of truth with wishful thinking. The naysayers say that it is just an act of providing false hope for us in this dark and horrid world that is the 21st Century. I beg to differ.

For months, in our political haze fanned on by online news portals, I've gotten so engrossed in the sniping and crucifixion of politicians and political parties on both divides that the gradual separation from writings I used to love went by unnoticed. Until now, that is. Losing touch with the optimistic and heartwarming elements- both of which form the core of romanticism- happened like how the many unfinished businesses in my life fizzled out, a far cry from the fanfare with which they started. 

With this discovery, I can only keep the flames of hope burning, willing global and local scenes which are out of grasps from our tiny hands to take a turn for the better in the near future. In the meantime, embracing all the smooth and tingly edges that life has to offer shall be held with higher regard than before, knowing well that to execute the best plans in the world, one has to first believe. 

Thank you for bringing me back :).

Works of the columnist mentioned may be found in thestar online and her blog.

Pancake on the hob

It looks pretty on the top, but when you flip it over, to your chagrin, you discover that the bottom's burnt!! You didn't even smell the burn because you had your nostrils trained to the orange juice you were sipping. You realize that it is inedible and the only suitable place for this is in the bin. Reluctantly, you chuck it into the plastic bag.

Now, if we look at things in retrospect, we will be able to dissect a few key points from this episode. You can choose to focus on the good parts, in this case, the up-facing side of the pancake; OR you could choose to remember the reason why you had to throw the pancake away. Then when you wonder why it got burnt, you remember your orange juice. "Why oh, why did you have to drink that strong-scented juice drink while frying your pancake?" you ask yourself. As a last resort, you then question the reason why that orange juice was even your choice of drink. 

I ask myself, does the drink even matter? Would I have changed anything if I somehow manage to pull off a Hiro Nakamura to prevent myself from drinking orange juice, or as a matter of fact, from ANY sort of beverage that would impede my sense of smell during that time.

The answer I have given myself time and time again was: "yes, this would not happen if i didn't do this, and if i didn't do that".

I'd like to point out here that everyone is a professor, scientist and actuary on hindsight. Anyone can go "Oh dude, you shouldn't have made that turn" after your car got smashed. That said, I'm going to provide myself a fair and unbiased judgment because I shouldn't have allowed my clingy tendencies and approval of romanticism (or rather, disillusionment) to shroud judgements. I think that whether or not I had something to sip or not on that day doesn't matter anymore. It probably wouldn't have made a difference if I wasn't drinking anything and even if it could, truth of the matter is that it didn't happen. I was sipping an orange juice and the pancake would've burnt anyway because I wasn't experienced enough to estimate the time for one side to cook. Besides that, the amount used was spread just too thin and the fire, too hot. In a nutshell, nothing would have prevented the pancake from burning. No point crying over spilt milk. 

Yes, now we've established that it was a good choice that we decided to throw it away. No point crying over spilt milk. No point crying over burnt pancakes either. It doesn't matter if a part was still good. The other side was burnt, and it had to be thrown away. Unless you can invent a miracle burntpancake reversing magicbox, I doubt I'd eat that pancake. End of story. 

Now to finally take out the trash.

P.s. Thankyou for ruining my night.

Italy- Day 3

Whatever happened to those Italy posts I've promised? Well, they can't be posted up because I don't have the photos (cus my camera died after day 3). Just for the sake of tying up loose ends, I'm going to continue on the journey I started with Day 3.

Italy- Day 3- Longest night ever in La Spezia and the most breathtaking view (that I've ever seen):

To pick up where I left off the last time, we arrived at the La Spezia train station well later than expected. 

Were we able to catch the connecting train to Riomaggiore? No.

Were we able to leave our bags at the left baggage? No (closed).

Were we dressed to withstand a long rainy (and chilly night)? No.

Despite all that, we pulled ourselves together, determined to camp it out in one of the platform's waiting rooms. SO that's that. With those lousy back-numbing chairs for our beds, breeze through broken windows to freeze our bones and simple raincoats as our blankets, we attempted to sleep. Shifts were rotated. Can't remember who took the 1st shift. I think it was me and jun sheng... then again, I'm pretty sure I dozed off during my shift :P. Sometime during the wee hours, a guy approached us and poured some incomprehensible Italian into our ears while pointing to his ticket. We didn't understand what he was saying and he staggered off to the other side of the room and slept. Time, as Einstein argued, is relative, as is everything. So between that incident and the arrival of a train bound for the stranger's destination, almost 1 day passed- relatively speaking. the night was THAT long OK. We woke him up so that we won't feel guilty when he wakes up and realizes that he'd missed his train. :P

I'm joking of course.. We're all good Samaritans who wouldn't hesitate to help those in need. Heheh.

So after that LONG night of restless sleep under my thin raincoat, we finally saw something stir from within the station's McDonalds. I swear, I have never been so glad to see a shop open in the morning. We all rushed into the little McDonalds (shared with another deli of sorts, Italian style). Turned out the McD wasn't opened yet, but the other one sharing this lot was. Had a simple breakfast there (Croissant+coffee for me) and washed ourselves up in their toilet, all the while leeching off their central heating. 

The train from La Spezia to Cinque Terre wasn't long. Before we could succumb to dreamland's allure sitting on the train's comfy cushions, we were there at our first village- Riomaggiore. It was still rainy and we were not very optimistic that the weather was going to improve that day. After a short walk from Riomaggiore to Manarola, breakfast was already on some of our minds, especially Jun. heheheh.. And mine too lar. We started the real hiking stuff from Manarola to Corgnilia via one of the small towns which name currently escapes me. Anywho, the trek was a little energy-sapping, but it was well worth the effort. By that time, the sun was out, lucky us. Following the red and white marks which can be found painted on rocks, and etched into tree trunks, we were brought into the wonderful vineyard valleys and over the hills where the Tyrrhenian sea greeted us with its glittering beauty. Due to the topography, their vineyards were all planted on narrow steps on the slopes of this unique countryside. Standing on the pathway wedged in between rows of vines, we had the sea on our left and the steep climb on our right (with an endless sight of MORE vineyards). Behind us, the view of that cute little village of Manarola and the lone ferry boat moving towards it from one of the northern villages; in front, another 2 villages which I assume are Corniglia and Vernazza. It was truly a sight to behold. I will upload some photos when i get it from JS after his exams :).

From Corgnilia, we had an awesome Italian lunch complete with an antipasti (appetizer), a Primo and a secondo- Fish!!! and some smacking good seafood. I myself had some sort of grain (resembling rice) with prawns for the primo. In case you're wondering, the Italians take pride in their meal structure. Hence, it's best if you know a thing or two about these and also *important is the COPERTO- cover charge. Some are reasonable while others are just ridiculous. Now back to the meal: It was GOOoood. We reached a consensus there and then that the night's "chillout" (get it? Chill, OUT? Heheheh. LAme lar you) at the train station without paying for accommodation was definitely a good move since we get to spend on that day's lunch.

As though we weren't bloated enough, someone suggested some more gelato... and I agreed. You can't deny yourself some good ice-cream la, especially when you're supposed to enjoy your holiday to the max. Being the lazy bums that we were, we decided to put serious hiking on the back burner- indefinitely, and took the next train for our last city, Monterosso al mare. The place wasn't that great as the construction of a man-made beach was underway. Nevertheless, we took the opportunity to laze on the gravel. Yes, gravel. It was actually a very good place for a nap. Sun, smell of the sea, sound of waves lapping onto the shore, breeze. *snores*

After discussing with the rest, I wanted to go to Vernazza since it was said to be the most beautiful village out of the five. Caught a train there and really, it had a wonderful little harbour. As the rest of them experimented with the SLRs (Nigel, Ke Lun and Jun being the models) I explored a little and managed to find my way up at a watch tower. A sense of loneliness hit me as I enjoyed the view from the top. A wonderful view isn't perfect when there is no one close to your heart with whom to share.

It has to be noted here that the word "little" has to be used here because although the villages do not necessarily have the size and mass to compete with the likes of Venice and Florance, the fact that they are one, or in this case, 5 of a kind makes them stand out. I personally like how they are separated from the world. It is when you are among the cliffs of vineyards, quaint cottages dotting the mountainside and perched on the edge of a cliff overlooking the sea.. that you truly feel on top of the world. 

Yes, I fell in love with Cinque Terre. It makes me wonder how amazing it is that the villages remained sheltered from our poisonous hands all these years. Over-development, pollution and full-scale exploitation of local resources would usually be the theme of tourist attractions such as Florance and even Venice. It was the lack of that tourist-y feel that earned itself my bonus star.

End of the day, train took us back to La Spezia where we collected the luggage and headed for our next station: Florence (Firenze).

Our star

1st and 2nd paper (Wastewater and Transport Engineering) didn't go well. 3rd paper which is on the 2nd of June will be my last hope to keep my sorry ass afloat in the murky borders of 1.1 and 1.2. 

I have always been proud of the few local Malaysian talents who manage to not only shine locally but in the global arena as well. Just recently, I stumbled upon this Miri-born and KL-raised girl ZeeAvi (a.k.a. KokoKaina) and her little 'ditties'- as she would call them. Right, ditties that turned into youtube features generating up to hundreds of thousands of hits, pushing her out of oblivion and onto the big stage. Mark my words that this is no small fry: Her song is featured together with the likes of Jack Johnson and Matt Casta in a holiday compilation released last November titled "This warm December- A bushfire Holiday Volume 1". 

Moi salute youz Miss ZeeAvi! *Tabik*

From her official website http://www.zeeavi.com/, she's currently touring the States- and by that I don't mean Selangor, Johor, Perak, Pahang etc... she really is touring the United States of America. (I particularly enjoy listening to her "Kantoi"). To be a little selfish, I think that she should try (if she hasn't already) some jazzy, swing-y songs because of the smooth tunes she'd been able to pull off. It kinda reminds me of those old malay songs in P.Ramlee movies, don't ask me why>.<. Not that I watch a lot of P.Ramlee films; I've only caught 1 or 2 on TV my whole life. That aside, her song Monte is played in one of the recent Private Practice episodes.

AAnyway, her self-titled album is out now in the States and will be released in Malaysia on the 27th of May. 

Here is one of her youtube vids which has Honey Bee, Bitter Heart, Kantoi and Monte. Enjoy!

People blues

It is under stressful conditions that I attempt an escape from the entrapment I find myself in. This grey and torrid clashing of the internals, I find to be terribly unfit for early spring weather. The two are similar though, when you think about it. Awkward infighting and awkward weather. They make such a wonderful couple.

Problems...

Like an awakened Mt Vesuvius, poised to swallow all of Pompeii with its fury, the merciless force of destruction has finally descended upon me, hell bent to break the soul within.

When unleashed, the forces of heavens and earth combined will be powerless to stem the tide. 

Submission..

Despite the soft optimism sprung from those green patches outside, despite the subtle bloom in the sea of dry sand, the land remains eerily calm, as though awaiting its impending doomsday.

...but no, the day of apolyptical doom will not befall, not yet.

They know.

When every sap of energy amounts to nothing...

What of the lush miracles of life that number up to the thousands among hopefuls?

What of the unavoidable desire for the dancing petals?

They remain, of course

unemotional, distant; a perplexing group of entities who are (and at the same time) are not part of this surreal universe.

Tiresome to dissect, they make up the paradox of his make-believe conundrum.

The grass, still unfazed by melodies and touch. 

The thorns, still alert and seducing.

The long dark cloud, 

still hanging over him.