Does this page look sucky? Tell you what: it does not suck, I make sure of that. Only your browser sucks. This page works and looks better in a browser that supports web standards, though it's still accessible to any browser or Internet device. Please upgrade or switch to a better browser and this message will go away.

Sunday, June 30, 2002

Bbrraassiill!! 2:0

Brazil has done it again! Yes! Hurray! It's over! I can catch up on normal television again!

| 6/30/2002 06:15:00 AM Reading blogs at work? Click to escape to a suitable site!

Saturday, June 29, 2002

How I'm doing so far

Okay. I have a good lead now. Fortune had me cross paths with someone who's planning to change courses as well; she's a from the same faculty; she's a fellow Sabahan; she's a total babe. (If you're cheering for me, I'll have to insist I'm sticking strictly to business.) She can help me get out. Meanwhile for now, I'll still be taking classes as usual. I have a CAD assignment to hand in tomorrow.

I've cooled down about the dancing thing. I'm okay. I'm okay. How is this? Well, we had a few days off, without us asking. Plus the rumors are true: we'll have a show in Korea this October. They'll be selecting the members who'll get on the plane, in July. I have a good chance of being one of the juniors to be selected. Why? I dunno, they like me, I guess.

But I'm sure I'll still quit sometime. I intend to move out to a hostel next semester, then I wouldn't have anything to do with this college and whatever extracurricular shit it demands.

| 6/29/2002 03:03:00 AM Reading blogs at work? Click to escape to a suitable site!

Wednesday, June 26, 2002

Do you Blogtrack?

Since Blogtrack's been down for quite a while, I can hardly check the blogs that I read regularly. (I don't commit every blog's url to memory. Ouch.) I therefore find it impossible to spread wordlove at this time.

Oh! Oh! Oh! Brazil 1 : Turkey 0! Hey, everyone knows Brazil's gonna win this Worl... shuttup.

(Pardon the distraction; I just had to put that in, for moment's sake. Aahh what the hell, this post is several minutes late already...)

"Oh, and what the hell was Ronaldo thinking with that haircut? You goose! You better score today."

| 6/26/2002 06:46:00 AM Reading blogs at work? Click to escape to a suitable site!

Tuesday, June 25, 2002

Another one falls

They killed off Confessionalism! Bin's last words were along the lines of, "let this be a lesson to us all (online diarists)." I think someone sued him or something for invasion of privacy or something, thanks to his photo-blog, which seemed pretty benign to me. Oh crap. I shall miss following the exploits of a fellow single-and-looking.

I take that back. I'm not crazy about looking right now. Sorry girls. Get lucky.

| 6/25/2002 08:10:00 AM Reading blogs at work? Click to escape to a suitable site!


Lately I've been plagued by a notion that... I donwannabe a civil engineer! Sob sob!

It's been only a few weeks through this first ever semester... and I confess: I 'm not enjoying it as much as I probably should. I recall the Engineering Faculty tour, on one of my first days here, of what I'm supposed to be doing: patting cement, shovelling gravel, baking road-cakes. I admit, it all sounded like fun—way back in school.

One by one, the practicals I conducted began confirming my fears. I had no frickin' interest in what I was doing (or trying to do)!... as indicated by the number of yawns I expel during these times. Even simple Calculus, most of which I've already dealt with in matriculation college, now feels like a square peg I'm trying to push into my round brain. I want out.

Other (lesser) factors driving me here are:
- engineers usually find themselves unemployed for years after graduating. It's not just what everyone says; I have a cousin who had to migrate to Singapore to find work, and that's only so lucky for him.
- it's messy. I'm not keen on touching the stuff/getting them on my pants. (Cement esp., etc.)
- excessively paranoid perhaps, but I'm getting a little concerned about the health risks associated with dust and fumes...
- Civil engineers were the world's first engineers. Pity that kind of glamour has no appeal for me.

I probably wouldn't come to this conception if I haven't realized what my true passion is. Yuk! Did I just say that? I mean... something that I can swallow, something I am good at. I have my eye on the TESL (Teaching English as a Secondary Language) course. My excuses are as follows:
- I've never fussed or put any importance on this fact before, (ahem!) but English is evidently my strongest subject.
- Looking back, I've been a walking dictionary to many of my friends. I've also frequently been a walking spellchecker and grammar-checker. (You don't get point-and-click immediacy, to be modest and honest.) The point is: I'm no stranger to tuitioning others.
- I might later continue with postgraduate education in the most obvious place: the UK. (Good. A past crush of mine is studying there.)
- When all that's done, I'll come back and have a job without so much as lifting a finger.
- I'll be a lecturer and get rich quick.

| 6/25/2002 08:10:00 AM Reading blogs at work? Click to escape to a suitable site!

Monday, June 24, 2002

I'm not dancing, man

In my head: Seberapa Pantas, Sheila on 7.

It's been 24 hours after last night's performance, and already they're making us practise new moves. It's for UM's Festival of Arts this coming August. Shit. Please not today. I'm worn out. C'mon, don't we get a holiday from this for yesterday's work?

I was warned earlier about this. Membership in Tanjung Budaya demands unending commitment. Sympathetic seniors warned of nightly nine-to-twelve practice sessions. It will likely interfere with my studies. Don't stay unless you're really into this, they say. Well I think they're right. So I've decided: I'll quit after the Fest. I can't be sucking on them dicks for too long. I'm starting to hate it; in fact I think I do hate it, after typing that last sentence.

| 6/24/2002 06:57:00 AM Reading blogs at work? Click to escape to a suitable site!

Sunday, June 23, 2002

Danced at a wedding dinner

Last night was my first commercial cultural show.

Tanjung Budaya performed at a posh Malay wedding dinner in Bangsar. (a residential suburb which appeared to me as of high society, with all the big houses, the many pubs, the significant concentration of Caucasians...)

Our traditional dances were of Minangkabau flavor; it may be a clue to the newlyweds' cultural background and ethos, but I couldn't really tell.

It wasn't like any Malay wedding I've seen before. It was extravagant: lasers, mists, n-course dinner, flowergirls in white, dancers hired from UM (that's us)... Sorry folks, there's nothing else exciting like I screwed up or ripped my pants onstage or anything.

I saw a few Japanese guests, perhaps friends of the family. Saw a kimono-clad one. Cool.

| 6/23/2002 05:40:00 AM Reading blogs at work? Click to escape to a suitable site!

Friday, June 14, 2002

The ball on big TV

Go Korea! GO!

They've just kicked Portugal out of the game. What terrible luck they're a-suffering from. Boy how many times they missed shots.

I watched the match in the Summit Mall with Dad. Huge, and I mean HUGE screen with surround sound; enveloped by patrons. To use the cliche: it was like being right there! My legs twitched whenever the ball was being passed in the direction of the camera. Argh. Footbalitis.

Damn, he didn't give me pocket cash as I secretly hoped. Instead he took me to an ATM.

Dad's going back to Kota Kinabalu this morning.

Song in head: Hash Pipe, Weezer.

| 6/14/2002 08:31:00 AM Reading blogs at work? Click to escape to a suitable site!

Today's cab driver wisdom

It was six in the evening, rush-home hour. I had to take a taxi to the Summit Hotel to meet my dad.

Everybody was hailing the taxis passing by. The vacant ones come docking beside the crowd. Passenger wannabes stick their heads into the cars telling the driver where to. The driver evaluates the requested destination, shakes his head in refusal and rejoins the traffic without a client. Or otherwise.

But taxi drivers might not be as shitful as you curse they are. The one that took me in, a fiftysomething, was a considerate soul disguised as just another city slicker earning bread. He lamented for a guy who had came to him just before I did but didn't take him in; his terminus was only nearby and in the direction of mine. He went on to lecture that everyone wants to get home at this hour. Between the lines, I could read that he was saying, "What a loss. I could have helped him."

Yes there's some compassion in this metropolis.

| 6/14/2002 08:31:00 AM Reading blogs at work? Click to escape to a suitable site!

Monday, June 10, 2002

"Dance club" recruit

The Sumazau dancers—and that includes me—are now automatically members of Sri Tanjung Budaya, the famed cultural dance group of College Number Nine.

Me. Dance.

Surprisingly, I'm pretty good at it. Something to append to my list of talents... if I'd actually compile one.

I'll join for the benefits. It's a chance to travel; we do shows around town, and occasionally overseas. (I hear a lot of "Korea" suggestions, perhaps to lure potential junior male members. For those who don't get it: Korea and Japan jointly host the World Cup this year.) And membership counts as active participation in a college project, which is a requirement that keeps you in this college. Inactive residents get kicked out, we're warned. And as well I suppose, I wouldn't suffer from everyday sit-in-my-room boredom.

It's keeping us busy. Nightly practices. We're set to do shows for several events in and outside campus. I don't know if I can take it. Maybe I'll quit when it's all over?

Song playing in head: Redundant, Green Day.

| 6/10/2002 08:35:00 AM Reading blogs at work? Click to escape to a suitable site!

Thursday, June 06, 2002

Rant continued

Map of Malaysia

(See previous post.) I think every East Malaysian that has crossed the South China Sea has a story to tell.

This one always happens, so I've been told: one would be asked, "Is this your first time in Malaysia?..." and the enquirer may or may not oops with, "Er, I mean, in Semenanjung?" Yes I got hit by this one, from one of the family members of my Indian roommate, who all came to check out the room and the guy already inside it, with the Sabahan good looks, fresh straight out of the jungle, and curiously speaking perfect English.

Some confuse the two East Malaysian states. I had been acquainted with a KL native, a fellow freshie, for a couple of days — or so I thought. The other day he introduced me to another Sabahan as, "Lionel from Sarawak." I promptly corrected him. It wasn't a big deal really, but I saw in his eyes of surprise and his squeaked "Eh?" that he was somewhat embarrassed. Aww.

And then there's that rowboat story.

I've also been reminded that unlike at home, the traffic here don't look out for pedestrians. I think that says something about the locals in general.

Nonetheless it's not bad at all. Most of the locals were nice, thus defeated the presumption I was led to believe that Semenanjung folk were posh, ruthless and kiasu. For what it's worth, they're friendly and hospitable and whatever it is that sells Malaysians to tourists.

Some people come up to me seeming genuinely interested in me; I've been chatted up by a few, er, guys. Oh well, lets give the girls some time...

A couple of times some guys, mere aquaintances and perfect strangers, have graciously invited me onto their motorbikes when they've spotted me walking back to the college. How cool is that? I wonder if this gesture is a casual norm around here.

...or if I'm somehow popular. After all, everyone did see me lead the Sumazau dance troupe on Freshie Nite. (I was one of the handpicked Sabahans to do this. I did not volunteer.) Surely everyone recognizes me since then.

| 6/06/2002 02:55:00 AM Reading blogs at work? Click to escape to a suitable site!

Saturday, June 01, 2002

Lionel set loose upon KL

Landed in KL two Sundays ago. Took a taxi to the Malaysia Tourism Centre (MTC) where my cousin Boy, a professional dancer, works and was waiting for me. Since he was busy, he let me out to take an initiate's walk around the city by myself. I headed to the KLCC shopping mall (where the tallest twin towers in the world spire), as Boy suggested, which was just close by.

And like a kid in Toys 'R' Us... I was slurping on the sights and sounds of the big, pretty mall. I could get used to this. I've got four years here.

Spent the night at Boy's apartment before migrating to the UM campus. Orientation followed. Ugh. Such an unimportant thing to blog. (I won't.) It was to last a week.

After which I and a band of my fellow Sabahan collegemates toured KL over the weekend, taking all matter of available public transport. Oh what fun it is to ride on the LRT. On my to-visit-often list: Sungei Wang, Petaling Street and that labyrinthine bookstore in KLCC.

They say things are cheaper here on the Peninsula than on Borneo. Good. I can indulge in buying more music. Some new clothes maybe. And I want to save up to buy a computer that I don't have to fight over with the rest of the family. At least I'm not with them anymore. As of now, that last sentence was overtoned with gleefulness.

I wonder what you West Malaysians think of me now. A proverbial deer that has pranced into a village? From socialising with the locals, it seems to me that East Malaysia is to West Malaysia as Canada is to the United States. Loosely translated, "geographical and cultural ignorance." So what if I'm a deer. Just don't ask a Sabahan if she uses rowboats to get around back home. This happened to a friend recently. Fucking idiots.

| 6/01/2002 05:07:00 AM Reading blogs at work? Click to escape to a suitable site!