In about 4 hours, I'll be stepping out of my mum's house, fully garbed in white from my head to my toes on my way to answer Allah's call to his Holy House. I am feeling both nervous and excited - nervous because I feel so unprepared, so unworthy of being his guest in the most barakah of places, hoping no ill befalls me. But excited because the last (and first) time I went to Makkah was 17 years ago, and I only remember bits of the trip.
One thing I do remember is that feeling of awe when praying at the Masjidil Haram - as I get up from teh rukuk or sujud, my eyes will befall the Kaabah right in front of me. Not an embroidered or painted image on the prayer mat at home, but the REAL thing. And it really hits you then: ALLAHU AKBAR. God is Great.
And Great is HE in welcoming me to his Holy House - small, lowly, unworthy me. This will be my last post till I come back home in 45 days, InsyaAllah. Till then, take care everyone.
Be good.
Saturday, 23 December 2006
Sunday, 17 December 2006
Celebrating Motherhood
A couple of days ago, I met up with several friends for lunch. We normally do have lunch together, but after the restructuring our HOme Office was relocated to Dayabumi so our little 'clique' was kinda broken up.
One of them, I was having lunch with for the first time since she'd given birth early last Ramadhan. Two others were glowing first time mothers-to-be. Another is still on maternity leave. While we were lunching, another former colleague came by who had also just returned from delivering a baby boy.
I'm older than them (the lunching ladies, not the boys) by about two or three years. I'm also the first to have kids, so automatically I was designated Resource Person and Agony Aunt regarding motherhood and sometimes, career. It was wonderful to hear the new mummies sharing their experiences, their eyes lighting up whenever talk goes to the topic of their babies. Overall they seem to be having the time of their lives. Yup, nothing like having children to put them on top of your priority list. I mean, Nuaim's already 2 and a half years old and I still can't stop talking about him.
It reminds me of the time I had a chat with another friend, who was caught in a career-vs-motherhood dilemma. She had put off having children to concentrate on her career, but is planning to start soon. At the same time, a wonderful career opportunity has presented itself to her, involving a faraway location. It's the kind of break anyone would want, the kind I myself craved a couple of years ago. Her husband, however keen he is on having children, is not so keen on the idea of having children in that part of the world. When she asked my opinion, I think she already half-guessed what my answer would be. Of course, had I been single, I'd have signed the papers and grabbed the flight tickets immediately. But getting married introduced new principles in life, and having children strengthened them even further.
Firstly, however 'modern' and career-minded I may appear, as a Muslimah the first thing I tell myself is I am working only because my husband allows me to (and also if he didn't we could hardly afford this kind of lifestyle, and it's nowhere near the annual-overseas-holiday type either). My husband's blessing is important to me. Besides it's also a contractual requirement when I accepted that scholarship 13 years ago.
Having a husband, and hence a family, also means that whatever career decision I make requires me to factor them in. How easy would it be to maintain the family unit? What kind of environment will the kids grow up in? What facilities are there? Some working arrangements that would've appealed when I was young(er) and free(am I less free now) just simply don't fit in anymore.
And you know what? I'm not complaining.
And this, my dear friend, is the most important bit.
You may feel right now, and other people may feel, that once motherhood comes in you have to sacrifice the bigshot career option. The sigh that says 'look what I had to give up just to bring a snivelling baby into this world'. I hope, when you do have children, that you never, ever have that thought.
Because when you come home from work, or even give up that corporate career completely, and you look at that wide toothless grin or hold that snivelling baby in your arms at night, you'll realise that the jetsetting corporate career world pales in significance. Trust me on this.
And giving up on something so insignificant hardly warrants being considered a sacrifice, right?
One of them, I was having lunch with for the first time since she'd given birth early last Ramadhan. Two others were glowing first time mothers-to-be. Another is still on maternity leave. While we were lunching, another former colleague came by who had also just returned from delivering a baby boy.
I'm older than them (the lunching ladies, not the boys) by about two or three years. I'm also the first to have kids, so automatically I was designated Resource Person and Agony Aunt regarding motherhood and sometimes, career. It was wonderful to hear the new mummies sharing their experiences, their eyes lighting up whenever talk goes to the topic of their babies. Overall they seem to be having the time of their lives. Yup, nothing like having children to put them on top of your priority list. I mean, Nuaim's already 2 and a half years old and I still can't stop talking about him.
It reminds me of the time I had a chat with another friend, who was caught in a career-vs-motherhood dilemma. She had put off having children to concentrate on her career, but is planning to start soon. At the same time, a wonderful career opportunity has presented itself to her, involving a faraway location. It's the kind of break anyone would want, the kind I myself craved a couple of years ago. Her husband, however keen he is on having children, is not so keen on the idea of having children in that part of the world. When she asked my opinion, I think she already half-guessed what my answer would be. Of course, had I been single, I'd have signed the papers and grabbed the flight tickets immediately. But getting married introduced new principles in life, and having children strengthened them even further.
Firstly, however 'modern' and career-minded I may appear, as a Muslimah the first thing I tell myself is I am working only because my husband allows me to (and also if he didn't we could hardly afford this kind of lifestyle, and it's nowhere near the annual-overseas-holiday type either). My husband's blessing is important to me. Besides it's also a contractual requirement when I accepted that scholarship 13 years ago.
Having a husband, and hence a family, also means that whatever career decision I make requires me to factor them in. How easy would it be to maintain the family unit? What kind of environment will the kids grow up in? What facilities are there? Some working arrangements that would've appealed when I was young(er) and free(am I less free now) just simply don't fit in anymore.
And you know what? I'm not complaining.
And this, my dear friend, is the most important bit.
You may feel right now, and other people may feel, that once motherhood comes in you have to sacrifice the bigshot career option. The sigh that says 'look what I had to give up just to bring a snivelling baby into this world'. I hope, when you do have children, that you never, ever have that thought.
Because when you come home from work, or even give up that corporate career completely, and you look at that wide toothless grin or hold that snivelling baby in your arms at night, you'll realise that the jetsetting corporate career world pales in significance. Trust me on this.
And giving up on something so insignificant hardly warrants being considered a sacrifice, right?
Monday, 13 November 2006
Preparing for the greatest journey of my life.
Last Monday, 11 a.m. I received an SMS from Mak. It read:
Yeah, I know, it comes as a surprise to most of you. The only people who really know of my plans are those at the office. Well, it'd be a bit of a bummer if I just suddenly disappear for 45 days without prior notice, wouldn't it? And they only found out because everyone had to prepare a Leave Plan from October to March next year. I didn't really want to talk about it until I really know for sure that I'd be going - I've been on the standby list since early this year. And even then I wasn't too sure whether I really did want to go either. All these excuses were swimming in my head - the kids are too young, too much work at the office, I'm not ready (orang Melayu kata tak sampai seru kononnya), etc etc etc. But then, it's the same as donning the hijab, isn't it? We are never really ready unless we make a commitment to be ready for it. And the last couple of weeks have reaffirmed my commitment.
On the 11th and 12th, I had to attend a state-level assembly for all the bakal-bakal haji. It was held at the Shah Alam Sultan Salahuddin Abdul Aziz Shah Mosque, and we were supposed to stay the night (I didn't, because I met my neighbours there and they decided to go back home so I hitched a ride with them). The assembly was meant to be as practical as possible, so we had to put on the ihram garments at the appropriate moments to perform the tawaf around a dummy Kaabah, walk the Sa'ie along the pavement, and stone the Jamrah. For good measure, we did the stonepicking at night.
But what really had an impact on me was the sheer size of the congregation. At the mosque, there were about 3000 of us, from just one state. Imagine a sea of people all clothed in white. The first time I entered the Hall for the first briefing, I just went 'WOW'!!! Multiply that by 10 and that's about the number of Malaysian pilgrims in total. And multiply that by 100 for the whole congregation in Arafah. And 5 million people at the Masjidil-Haram for each congregational prayer.
During mealtimes , when everyone's rushing and pushing to grab their food, you can see and hear the patience dissipating. And to think this isn't even one percent of what we're going to face in Makkah. With people from all over the world, speaking different languages, hardly understanding one another. And yet patience is the currency to earn Haji Mabrur. The thought of it is scary, but thrilling at the same time.
************************************************************************************
Anyway, there are several things I need to do before I leave on the 23rd of December.
Number 1: Pay off all my debts.
If I owe you anything, especially in terms of material possessions, please claim it from me. I may have nicked or borrowed a few stuff from people at school or the office (maybe intentionally or unintentionally) and forgot to return them. And I'm about to make a confession here (well, three, actually), stuff I borrowed from my juniors in Seremban (shock! horror!) but never got round to returning them. And the worst bit is I don't remember the girls names:
1) A set of three books written by Christopher Pike, the 'Final Friends' series. The owner is two years my junior (Form One 1991), from blue house, and I think she performed in the English drama in her freshie concert but I hardly saw her acting after that. I think she was Noor Farilla's starter. Anyway, she was so nice to lend me all three when I only wanted to read one, but I in turn lent them to some friends and never quite got them back. The worst part is, the books apparently were bought in the UK (according to an inscription in the front cover), so even though they were available in Malaysia, there must've been some sentimental value attached to them. I never got round to replacing those books.
2) A small torchlight from one of my younger Freshie Sisters (Form One 1992) yellow house. I think she was in the Freshie Concert English drama for her batch, although I can't quite remember what character she played. I borrowed the torchlight for one of the Police Cadet camping trips. I think she wore a tudung and spoke with a slight lisp.
3) Now this one is tricky. She's also one of my Freshie sisters, also from yellow house. She was in English drama too, and I think she played the 'male interest' (hey, all girls' school, have to make do lah). I remember her having short curly hair. The trouble is, I can't remember what I borrowed from her. It must've been something small and inexpensive, like a pair of scissors or something.
So is this bad or what? I feel really terrible - 13 years on and I still have this hanging on my head. And me being Head Prefect and all. Well, who says I'm perfect?
I just hope that, even if the three of you are not reading this, that you have found it in your hearts to forgive me. I'm planning to donate an equivalent sum to a charity, and I hope the pahala of those deeds are accredited to you. If anyone does know how to contact these girls (gosh, they'd be 27 now) please get in touch with me so I can contact them before I leave.
Alhamdulillah..just frm tabung haji. cnfrm.So this is it, people. My lucky number is up. If all goes according to plan,God-willing, I'm going to be joining the estimated 3 million Muslims from around the world congregating in a desert in Saudi Arabia on the 9th of Zulhijjah, 1427 H.
Yeah, I know, it comes as a surprise to most of you. The only people who really know of my plans are those at the office. Well, it'd be a bit of a bummer if I just suddenly disappear for 45 days without prior notice, wouldn't it? And they only found out because everyone had to prepare a Leave Plan from October to March next year. I didn't really want to talk about it until I really know for sure that I'd be going - I've been on the standby list since early this year. And even then I wasn't too sure whether I really did want to go either. All these excuses were swimming in my head - the kids are too young, too much work at the office, I'm not ready (orang Melayu kata tak sampai seru kononnya), etc etc etc. But then, it's the same as donning the hijab, isn't it? We are never really ready unless we make a commitment to be ready for it. And the last couple of weeks have reaffirmed my commitment.
On the 11th and 12th, I had to attend a state-level assembly for all the bakal-bakal haji. It was held at the Shah Alam Sultan Salahuddin Abdul Aziz Shah Mosque, and we were supposed to stay the night (I didn't, because I met my neighbours there and they decided to go back home so I hitched a ride with them). The assembly was meant to be as practical as possible, so we had to put on the ihram garments at the appropriate moments to perform the tawaf around a dummy Kaabah, walk the Sa'ie along the pavement, and stone the Jamrah. For good measure, we did the stonepicking at night.
But what really had an impact on me was the sheer size of the congregation. At the mosque, there were about 3000 of us, from just one state. Imagine a sea of people all clothed in white. The first time I entered the Hall for the first briefing, I just went 'WOW'!!! Multiply that by 10 and that's about the number of Malaysian pilgrims in total. And multiply that by 100 for the whole congregation in Arafah. And 5 million people at the Masjidil-Haram for each congregational prayer.
During mealtimes , when everyone's rushing and pushing to grab their food, you can see and hear the patience dissipating. And to think this isn't even one percent of what we're going to face in Makkah. With people from all over the world, speaking different languages, hardly understanding one another. And yet patience is the currency to earn Haji Mabrur. The thought of it is scary, but thrilling at the same time.
************************************************************************************
Anyway, there are several things I need to do before I leave on the 23rd of December.
Number 1: Pay off all my debts.
If I owe you anything, especially in terms of material possessions, please claim it from me. I may have nicked or borrowed a few stuff from people at school or the office (maybe intentionally or unintentionally) and forgot to return them. And I'm about to make a confession here (well, three, actually), stuff I borrowed from my juniors in Seremban (shock! horror!) but never got round to returning them. And the worst bit is I don't remember the girls names:
1) A set of three books written by Christopher Pike, the 'Final Friends' series. The owner is two years my junior (Form One 1991), from blue house, and I think she performed in the English drama in her freshie concert but I hardly saw her acting after that. I think she was Noor Farilla's starter. Anyway, she was so nice to lend me all three when I only wanted to read one, but I in turn lent them to some friends and never quite got them back. The worst part is, the books apparently were bought in the UK (according to an inscription in the front cover), so even though they were available in Malaysia, there must've been some sentimental value attached to them. I never got round to replacing those books.
2) A small torchlight from one of my younger Freshie Sisters (Form One 1992) yellow house. I think she was in the Freshie Concert English drama for her batch, although I can't quite remember what character she played. I borrowed the torchlight for one of the Police Cadet camping trips. I think she wore a tudung and spoke with a slight lisp.
3) Now this one is tricky. She's also one of my Freshie sisters, also from yellow house. She was in English drama too, and I think she played the 'male interest' (hey, all girls' school, have to make do lah). I remember her having short curly hair. The trouble is, I can't remember what I borrowed from her. It must've been something small and inexpensive, like a pair of scissors or something.
So is this bad or what? I feel really terrible - 13 years on and I still have this hanging on my head. And me being Head Prefect and all. Well, who says I'm perfect?
I just hope that, even if the three of you are not reading this, that you have found it in your hearts to forgive me. I'm planning to donate an equivalent sum to a charity, and I hope the pahala of those deeds are accredited to you. If anyone does know how to contact these girls (gosh, they'd be 27 now) please get in touch with me so I can contact them before I leave.
Sunday, 5 November 2006
My little open house weekend adventure
The weekend's come and gone, and my forecasted binge didn't quite materialise. I did attend all 3 open houses I was invited to, but spent half the time chasing after Nuaim that I was hardly ever full.
First one up was AND's on Saturday, in Ara Damansara. His invite said 3-6 pm, but I only arrived at 5 as I had promised to take Nuaim along after his afternoon nap. Actually, I was ready to leave without him when he woke up and saw me putting on my headscarf. After a quick wash, he put on his purple Baju Melayu and matching kain sampin (this boy definitely knows how to dress to impress, I tell you) and off we went.
I'd been to Ara Damansara before, to some other friends' homes, but this was in a different part of the residential area. The map provided was quite easy to read, so I managed the trip with no one else but Nuaim for company. What I wasn't prepared for was the playground in front of the house. The other kids had their daddies to accompany them, and Nuaim was quite keen to follow, but the dark clouds and impending rain put him off. I was lucky to reach the car and leave just before the torrential downpour began. Didn't even have time to rescue the bit of chicken satay that flew out of my hand and into the corner of the living room (if you're reading, AND, it's just behind the curtains of the sliding door. Sorry about that).
Today there were two houses to go to, in the general area of Shah Alam. One was a yearly affair by FR, an old school friend (who actually has her do at her parents' house in upscale Glenmarie Court), and the other was my Deputy Project Manager's in equally impressive Bukit Jelutong. I decided this time to go at noon, intending to arrive in Bukit Jelutong by 1 pm and leave for FR's an hour later.
I got lost twice in Bukit Jelutong. The map showed two ways of getting there, and the route I took was longer than it looked on paper. The first wrong junction took me to a highly exclusive enclave of BJ, where each bungalow had a unique design, and some were still under construction. I realised I was lost when all the roads read Jalan Menara when I was supposed to be on Jalan Birai. The next wrong junction led me to Jalan Bidai. At first I was convinced I got it right, that maybe it was a typo error on the map. There was even a home made signboard saying 'OPEN HOUSE'. But after going round in circles and ending up in dead ends, I headed back to the main road. By then Nuaim was already fast asleep in his car seat.
Heading towards the new Guthrie expressway, I finally found the right street and located the house (the cars leading up to a solitary canopy tent in the middle of the road was a big clue). I had to carry Nuaim, as he was still half asleep, but I managed to feed him some chicken satay and rice. He behaved well enough, except when I 'ter'fed him something spicy (bad, bad Mommy!).
At two, we left for FR's. The route from Bukit Jelutong to Glenmarie was not too familiar to me, and I almost got lost again. Halfway there I remembered that the house had a pond of koi fish, which should keep Nuaim occupied while I helped myself to the food. Oh, goody!!
What I did not reckon on was the decorative stone fish spouting water into the pond. At first Nuaim seemed happy to just look at the koi swimming lazily about, and walking up and down the ramp leading to the back gate. Then, just as I was warming up to the company, Nuaim decided to perform his idea of wudhu' using the spouting fish. He later proceeded to give his toy truck a wash, getting himself half-wet in the process. I had to make a quick exit before he decided to get himself truly drenched by jumping into the pond (apparently some other kid has done that before), but only after FR took a photo with us, wet toy truck and all. When I get that picture, I'll put it up here for posterity.
Another picture I'd like to put up is of one of the houses in Glenmarie Court. The first time I saw it was last year, when I attended FR's open house with Hubby. We decided to take a tour around the gated residential area (it's not everyday we get to gawk at rich people's homes, Hubby said) and saw this huge, white, classical style building that reminded me more of a European museum than a Malaysian house. Even had its own TNB mini-substation!! Must remember to to ask FR who it belongs to. I snapped a picture with my new (and free!) Motorola L6, and would've taken a few more, but I didn't want the car behind me to think I was a stalker. Some day, when I get the phone's data cable and phone tools (not free!) sorted out, I'll get the photo up here so we can all gawk together, okay?
I'm planning to start my Puasa 6 tomorrow. Target completion: Tuesday 14th Nov. Or Wednesday. As long as it's complete before the department's Makan-makan on Thursday.
P/S 8 Nov 2006 - Received Nuaim's photo from Freida yesterday. The dastardly fish is on the right, next to the labu sayung. He's wearing the new baju lawa I bought him to appease for the plain one I bought earlier.
First one up was AND's on Saturday, in Ara Damansara. His invite said 3-6 pm, but I only arrived at 5 as I had promised to take Nuaim along after his afternoon nap. Actually, I was ready to leave without him when he woke up and saw me putting on my headscarf. After a quick wash, he put on his purple Baju Melayu and matching kain sampin (this boy definitely knows how to dress to impress, I tell you) and off we went.
I'd been to Ara Damansara before, to some other friends' homes, but this was in a different part of the residential area. The map provided was quite easy to read, so I managed the trip with no one else but Nuaim for company. What I wasn't prepared for was the playground in front of the house. The other kids had their daddies to accompany them, and Nuaim was quite keen to follow, but the dark clouds and impending rain put him off. I was lucky to reach the car and leave just before the torrential downpour began. Didn't even have time to rescue the bit of chicken satay that flew out of my hand and into the corner of the living room (if you're reading, AND, it's just behind the curtains of the sliding door. Sorry about that).
Today there were two houses to go to, in the general area of Shah Alam. One was a yearly affair by FR, an old school friend (who actually has her do at her parents' house in upscale Glenmarie Court), and the other was my Deputy Project Manager's in equally impressive Bukit Jelutong. I decided this time to go at noon, intending to arrive in Bukit Jelutong by 1 pm and leave for FR's an hour later.
I got lost twice in Bukit Jelutong. The map showed two ways of getting there, and the route I took was longer than it looked on paper. The first wrong junction took me to a highly exclusive enclave of BJ, where each bungalow had a unique design, and some were still under construction. I realised I was lost when all the roads read Jalan Menara when I was supposed to be on Jalan Birai. The next wrong junction led me to Jalan Bidai. At first I was convinced I got it right, that maybe it was a typo error on the map. There was even a home made signboard saying 'OPEN HOUSE'. But after going round in circles and ending up in dead ends, I headed back to the main road. By then Nuaim was already fast asleep in his car seat.
Heading towards the new Guthrie expressway, I finally found the right street and located the house (the cars leading up to a solitary canopy tent in the middle of the road was a big clue). I had to carry Nuaim, as he was still half asleep, but I managed to feed him some chicken satay and rice. He behaved well enough, except when I 'ter'fed him something spicy (bad, bad Mommy!).
At two, we left for FR's. The route from Bukit Jelutong to Glenmarie was not too familiar to me, and I almost got lost again. Halfway there I remembered that the house had a pond of koi fish, which should keep Nuaim occupied while I helped myself to the food. Oh, goody!!
What I did not reckon on was the decorative stone fish spouting water into the pond. At first Nuaim seemed happy to just look at the koi swimming lazily about, and walking up and down the ramp leading to the back gate. Then, just as I was warming up to the company, Nuaim decided to perform his idea of wudhu' using the spouting fish. He later proceeded to give his toy truck a wash, getting himself half-wet in the process. I had to make a quick exit before he decided to get himself truly drenched by jumping into the pond (apparently some other kid has done that before), but only after FR took a photo with us, wet toy truck and all. When I get that picture, I'll put it up here for posterity.
Another picture I'd like to put up is of one of the houses in Glenmarie Court. The first time I saw it was last year, when I attended FR's open house with Hubby. We decided to take a tour around the gated residential area (it's not everyday we get to gawk at rich people's homes, Hubby said) and saw this huge, white, classical style building that reminded me more of a European museum than a Malaysian house. Even had its own TNB mini-substation!! Must remember to to ask FR who it belongs to. I snapped a picture with my new (and free!) Motorola L6, and would've taken a few more, but I didn't want the car behind me to think I was a stalker. Some day, when I get the phone's data cable and phone tools (not free!) sorted out, I'll get the photo up here so we can all gawk together, okay?
I'm planning to start my Puasa 6 tomorrow. Target completion: Tuesday 14th Nov. Or Wednesday. As long as it's complete before the department's Makan-makan on Thursday.
P/S 8 Nov 2006 - Received Nuaim's photo from Freida yesterday. The dastardly fish is on the right, next to the labu sayung. He's wearing the new baju lawa I bought him to appease for the plain one I bought earlier.
Friday, 3 November 2006
Counting My Blessings
This morning we had a meeting to address the project's schedule slippage. We've got another five months to complete the job, and less than half the required manpower to complete it. So the first stop gap measure that management has come up with is for us to work overtime.
Now, being executives, we're not entitled to claim monetary compensation for the overtime hours. The only carrot being offered is day off in lieu, but only if we put in at least an extra 4 hours after 5 pm. Per day. Oh yes, and dinner.
I'm not complaining here. I've been doing this since my first year in this job. Not from the first day though - those weeks were easy, when I didn't have a real project to my name. But it's been the norm for me to stay late at the office for various reasons. Sometimes it's the work, other times it's the traffic or weather. And of course, at one time, it was a love interest. But now love interest is marital spouse and far away in Sudan.
Despite the perfect setting for doom and gloom, I still feel pretty positive about my life in general. And this is why:
Now, being executives, we're not entitled to claim monetary compensation for the overtime hours. The only carrot being offered is day off in lieu, but only if we put in at least an extra 4 hours after 5 pm. Per day. Oh yes, and dinner.
I'm not complaining here. I've been doing this since my first year in this job. Not from the first day though - those weeks were easy, when I didn't have a real project to my name. But it's been the norm for me to stay late at the office for various reasons. Sometimes it's the work, other times it's the traffic or weather. And of course, at one time, it was a love interest. But now love interest is marital spouse and far away in Sudan.
Despite the perfect setting for doom and gloom, I still feel pretty positive about my life in general. And this is why:
- I am blessed with a husband who loves me and fancies me like mad. He may not be rich, nor is he the handsomest man in the universe, but he truly appreciates me despite all my faults (although sometimes I wish he'd display his appreciation in more affectionate ways).
- I am blessed with a beautiful, intelligent son (my first) who can charm the pants off a 90-year-old crone.
- I am blessed with a healthy, strong, tenacious son (my second) who could probably pull off a virgin maid's chastity belt with his bare hands.
- My in-laws treat me and accept me as their own daughter, and, since they don't have any daughters of their own, that's a very privileged position to be in. So much so that I happily spent 9 days of my Raya holidays with them, in Alor Setar, despite my husband not being there with me.
- My job, despite it's wacky schedule and near impossible targets, has enough challenges that gives me immense satisfaction when I overcome them. And although sometimes my superiors give me tasks beyond my job scope, it allows me to develop and discover new talents I never knew I had. And my colleagues and subordinates are wonderful people to work with.
All in all, I'm in a pretty comfortable position right now. I just hope it stays that way.
Right, looking forward to a weekend of binging now. I got three open houses to go to. Looks like I'll have to put off my Puasa 6 till next week.
Be good y'all.
Thursday, 2 November 2006
I'm still at the office.
At 7.45 pm.
On a Thursday night. Friday eve, a holy night for Muslims.
I should be at home already, praying, reciting the Yasin.
Blegh.
On a Thursday night. Friday eve, a holy night for Muslims.
I should be at home already, praying, reciting the Yasin.
Blegh.
Monday, 9 October 2006
Baju Lawa untuk Nuaim
Nuaim has a thing for checked collared shirts, which he calls 'Baju Lawa'. He has them in almost every colour, and every morning after his bath he'll grab one together with a pair of matching long pants. Most of them are short sleeved, although he does own a couple of long-sleeved ones, which he calls 'Baju Datuk'. I think he's trying to emulate his paternal grandfather, who regularly wears them on his trips to KL. Nuaim would even wear them to bed, if he had his own way, but nowadays he favours 'Baju P. Ramlee', which is what he calls his pyjamas (I have no idea what gave him the idea to call them that).
Nuaim has been wearing these shirts since he could walk, and although the shirts still fit due to the loss of some bodily fat, he has definitely outgrown his trousers. I thought I'd buy him a few new pairs . I was also keen to see Nu'man wear something other than the baby bodysuits evryone keeps giving him, so decided he should get his own brand new checked shirt for Hari Raya.
So there I was in the children's department of Jusco 1 Utama, among many other parents procuring brand new clothes for their offspring. I found a cute shirt and a pair of shorts for Nu'man, and two pairs of trousers for Nuaim. Then I thought I should get a shirt for Nuaim too. After all, his brother's getting something new so why shouldn't he? But all the checked shirts on offer looked boring to me (except for the one I bought Nu'man, but I didn't want them to wear similar clothing) so I bought a PLAIN shirt with some checked trimming around the collar and pockets.
When I reached home and announced that I bought him new trousers, Nuaim wanted to try them on immediately. Then he saw the checked portion of his new shirt peeking out of the shopping bag, and he wanted to try it on too. He was excited at first, but after he put it on and realised the checks weren't as visible as he'd hoped, the smile vanished slowly. Being the good boy that he is, he didn't sulk, but he kept his head down and wouldn't look me in the eye, and kept asking everyone for affirmation that he looked 'lawa', to which we all said yes. It almost broke my heart to see him so upset, and very quickly I stowed away Nu'man's new clothes and promised to get him a new checked shirt for Hari Raya.
Now I just have to decide on the colour.
Nuaim has been wearing these shirts since he could walk, and although the shirts still fit due to the loss of some bodily fat, he has definitely outgrown his trousers. I thought I'd buy him a few new pairs . I was also keen to see Nu'man wear something other than the baby bodysuits evryone keeps giving him, so decided he should get his own brand new checked shirt for Hari Raya.
So there I was in the children's department of Jusco 1 Utama, among many other parents procuring brand new clothes for their offspring. I found a cute shirt and a pair of shorts for Nu'man, and two pairs of trousers for Nuaim. Then I thought I should get a shirt for Nuaim too. After all, his brother's getting something new so why shouldn't he? But all the checked shirts on offer looked boring to me (except for the one I bought Nu'man, but I didn't want them to wear similar clothing) so I bought a PLAIN shirt with some checked trimming around the collar and pockets.
When I reached home and announced that I bought him new trousers, Nuaim wanted to try them on immediately. Then he saw the checked portion of his new shirt peeking out of the shopping bag, and he wanted to try it on too. He was excited at first, but after he put it on and realised the checks weren't as visible as he'd hoped, the smile vanished slowly. Being the good boy that he is, he didn't sulk, but he kept his head down and wouldn't look me in the eye, and kept asking everyone for affirmation that he looked 'lawa', to which we all said yes. It almost broke my heart to see him so upset, and very quickly I stowed away Nu'man's new clothes and promised to get him a new checked shirt for Hari Raya.
Now I just have to decide on the colour.
Saturday, 30 September 2006
Where's my IPTV?
I received a mailer from my ISP last month informing me that I am one of the selected few to receive free Internet TV for 3 months. Initially I wasn't too keen, since I'm hardly living in my own house with my husband out of the country (I know, 30 years old, married, got two kids and still staying with parents is so uncool) and even when I do go home we hardly watch TV. But then it's free, and who knows there might be some good programmes on, so I said yes.
An installation contractor for the ISP called me a couple of days ago, and agreed to come over to my condo this morning at 9.00 a.m. to set the thing up. I had to drag myself out of bed, away from my cuddly boys and back here in Damansara Perdana. Might as well get the place all cleaned up and everything. Fortunately, there wasn't much too do except sort out my bills while I wait for the guy to come over. When it was 10.30 and the installer hadn't arrived or called, I rang up the ISP and was told that my appointment was actually for 10.00. So, already half hour gone but no one's ringing my doorbell yet. Finally the contractor called and said he's on the way, will be here at 11.00. Well, it's almost noon and he's not here yet.
Speak of the devil. He's HERE!
An installation contractor for the ISP called me a couple of days ago, and agreed to come over to my condo this morning at 9.00 a.m. to set the thing up. I had to drag myself out of bed, away from my cuddly boys and back here in Damansara Perdana. Might as well get the place all cleaned up and everything. Fortunately, there wasn't much too do except sort out my bills while I wait for the guy to come over. When it was 10.30 and the installer hadn't arrived or called, I rang up the ISP and was told that my appointment was actually for 10.00. So, already half hour gone but no one's ringing my doorbell yet. Finally the contractor called and said he's on the way, will be here at 11.00. Well, it's almost noon and he's not here yet.
Speak of the devil. He's HERE!
Wednesday, 27 September 2006
Baby boom
Just in case anyone got over-excited over the prospect of me getting pregnant again, I'll have to disappoint you people by emphatically stating that there will be no addition to my clan within the next 9 months. If I have it my way you'll have to wait for another 3 years or so. Okaylah, 1.5 years, boleyyy?
One of my aforementioned colleagues did give birth though, to a beautiful baby boy - fair-skinned, thick black hair. Muhammad Kashfi, welcome to the world! Didn't have any cameras around except for the new mother's, so pictures will have to wait.
The really funny bit was actually the trip to the hospital yesterday. 7 of us decided to go visit the new mum and babe in hospital during our non-existent lunch break (this being the fasting month, Big Brother expects us all to work non-stop through lunch to justify being let off early at 4 pm to beat the traffic to make it in time for iftar with family at home. So nice of them bosses.). We thought it'd be a good idea to all squeeze into my car, which we managed to do with careful planning and coordination. Mind you, it was no mean feat as there was an 8-month pregnant lady and a 1-month pregnant lady both sitting in the back seat. And there was a long-legged beauty as well, all 5 feet 7 in of her. If anyone caught a picture of us and sent it to the newspapers, it would have been worthy of a RM50 cash prize.
One of my aforementioned colleagues did give birth though, to a beautiful baby boy - fair-skinned, thick black hair. Muhammad Kashfi, welcome to the world! Didn't have any cameras around except for the new mother's, so pictures will have to wait.
The really funny bit was actually the trip to the hospital yesterday. 7 of us decided to go visit the new mum and babe in hospital during our non-existent lunch break (this being the fasting month, Big Brother expects us all to work non-stop through lunch to justify being let off early at 4 pm to beat the traffic to make it in time for iftar with family at home. So nice of them bosses.). We thought it'd be a good idea to all squeeze into my car, which we managed to do with careful planning and coordination. Mind you, it was no mean feat as there was an 8-month pregnant lady and a 1-month pregnant lady both sitting in the back seat. And there was a long-legged beauty as well, all 5 feet 7 in of her. If anyone caught a picture of us and sent it to the newspapers, it would have been worthy of a RM50 cash prize.
Monday, 25 September 2006
Nawaitu Sauma ghadin...
Ramadhan al-Mubarak everyone!!!
True to my word, the first blog I visited since the fasting month began yesterday was Ubi's. And she has obliged by putting up some very delectable photos. If it's anything like last year, anyone who can't stand the sight of food while fasting should stay away from her blog for the next 29 days. Unless you are like me who is bent on torturing my own soul with such temptations.
Anyway I spent the first day of Ramadhan dozing away with little Nu'man. It is such a heavenly experience to be able to cuddle up with a chubby 6-month old baby in your arms, especially if he's your own offspring. You should all try it, works so much better than popping happy pills. I enjoy it so much I'm thinking of surrounding myself with 6-month old babies for an indefinite period of time.
Speaking of babies, 2 people I know are about to deliver their babies soon, and 2 more just conceived. An e-mail hubby sent to me from Sudan has me thinking about having more babies. Mak has started speculating that I am pregnant, on the basis that she's feeling under the weather and experiencing nausea after a meal. Apparently she felt the same when I was carrying Nuaim, so to her this is as clear a sign as any that another grandchild is on the way. Go figure. I think it's just the response of malnourished bodies to a sudden influx of ikan tilapia bakar.
True to my word, the first blog I visited since the fasting month began yesterday was Ubi's. And she has obliged by putting up some very delectable photos. If it's anything like last year, anyone who can't stand the sight of food while fasting should stay away from her blog for the next 29 days. Unless you are like me who is bent on torturing my own soul with such temptations.
Anyway I spent the first day of Ramadhan dozing away with little Nu'man. It is such a heavenly experience to be able to cuddle up with a chubby 6-month old baby in your arms, especially if he's your own offspring. You should all try it, works so much better than popping happy pills. I enjoy it so much I'm thinking of surrounding myself with 6-month old babies for an indefinite period of time.
Speaking of babies, 2 people I know are about to deliver their babies soon, and 2 more just conceived. An e-mail hubby sent to me from Sudan has me thinking about having more babies. Mak has started speculating that I am pregnant, on the basis that she's feeling under the weather and experiencing nausea after a meal. Apparently she felt the same when I was carrying Nuaim, so to her this is as clear a sign as any that another grandchild is on the way. Go figure. I think it's just the response of malnourished bodies to a sudden influx of ikan tilapia bakar.
Thursday, 14 September 2006
Whatever happened to James Spader?
I caught an episode of Boston Legal last night, and my first reaction was, "Is that James Spader?" He looked, in the words of his on-screen character Alan Shore, 'cushy'.
And I used to find him so geekily cute when I saw him as an Egyptologist in Stargate 12 years ago.
And I used to find him so geekily cute when I saw him as an Egyptologist in Stargate 12 years ago.
Monday, 11 September 2006
Searching for Stingray
We're not talking about the dastardly animal that killed Steve Irwin (am I the only one who's slightly glad I won't be seeing him on TV anymore?) but I'm tracking down an old friend here.
Stingray, wherefore art thou? Changed your URL? How come it points to Count of Monte Cristo now? Or is that your new alter ego?
Stingray, wherefore art thou? Changed your URL? How come it points to Count of Monte Cristo now? Or is that your new alter ego?
Woman Is Fickle
Anyone who has visited my blog (yes, all two or three of you) in the last couple of months would realise that the only thing that's changed constantly is the look. I can't decide which image my blog should portray - somewhere between traditional, edgy, mysterious and fun-loving.
Somehow my life currently does not seem so blogworthy. Maybe it's because I've already verbally communicated whatever is worth reporting to anyone who might find it even remotely interesting (and even if you find it tedious you won't get away until I finish) that it's not worth repeating. And the really juicy stuff is not quite meant for public viewing (trying to maintain an aura of mystery here).
Anyhow, hope the new look will survive a couple of months' scrutiny. I've actually used this template before, and was trying to customise it but me not so good at HTML la. Of course, come Ramadhan I'll get fed up with dark colours and will probably opt for something green to freshen myself up during office hours. Don't feel like b*&%^ing about office work and office people either - same old stuff, just different document title and drawing number.
You people who's blogs I regularly visit and care to visit mine therefore are reading this, I have a message for you:
Somehow my life currently does not seem so blogworthy. Maybe it's because I've already verbally communicated whatever is worth reporting to anyone who might find it even remotely interesting (and even if you find it tedious you won't get away until I finish) that it's not worth repeating. And the really juicy stuff is not quite meant for public viewing (trying to maintain an aura of mystery here).
Anyhow, hope the new look will survive a couple of months' scrutiny. I've actually used this template before, and was trying to customise it but me not so good at HTML la. Of course, come Ramadhan I'll get fed up with dark colours and will probably opt for something green to freshen myself up during office hours. Don't feel like b*&%^ing about office work and office people either - same old stuff, just different document title and drawing number.
You people who's blogs I regularly visit and care to visit mine therefore are reading this, I have a message for you:
Please upload lots of food pictures so I can salivate over them at
Ramadhan. Ubi, you are target Numero
Uno.
Thursday, 17 August 2006
Reflections on Self Development
Things I need to work on:
- I have to learn to delegate my work. This involves trusting others to perform up to my standards, and also to be less rigid if things are not done exactly the way I would do it.
- To get things done, I have to give just the right amount of coaching and direction, without going overboard and micromanaging. See item 1.
- If people are not as self-starting or take enough initiative, I have to deal with it and not wait for that person to receive his/her comeuppance. See item 2.
- If I don't agree with how things are done, deal with it constructively. Don't GRUMBLE in front of everyone but the person-in-charge! See item 1, but this is in relation to bosses!!
Monday, 14 August 2006
It's SHOWTIME!!!
Having missed the first season, I was looking forward to catch the Puteri Gunung Ledang musical in its second run at the Istana Budaya. Since Hubby is only coming back after the run finishes on 20th Aug, I bought tickets to watch the matinee on Saturday with my sister instead. My mum and two other sisters caught an earlier show, and reviews were encouraging, especially AC Mizal’s portrayal of Gusti Adipati, the Majapahit ruler.
So did I enjoy the show? Let me just say that despite all the reviews (on par with West End & Broadway productions, according to some newspapers) I decided beforehand not to put my hopes up too high, lest I end up being sorely disappointed. And I’m glad I didn’t.
By Malaysian standards, it was a very ambitious production, and again by Malaysian standards it succeeded on certain levels. The set was pretty impressive, the score was good, albeit a bit too contemporary for me. I was hoping for something more like the M. Nasir-Siti Nurhaliza duet ‘Bagaikan Sakti’ that was the movie’s theme song, but the music was all new. I did enjoy Sultan Mahmud of Melaka’s jazzy number though, which was unexpected (jazz tunes in 15th century Malaya?) but somehow it portrayed the character to a tee. You could see a lot of heart and soul went into the show, but unfortunately, and especially for the title character, the passion could not quite make up for the lack of natural talent.
Oh yes, she did win Best Actress at the Malaysian and Asia Pacific film festivals, and she did spend weeks in a Javanese keraton learning the ropes of a Majapahit princess (method acting you!!) but this is after all a musical, where more than half of the dialogue is in song. With all due respect Datin Seri, you’re a brilliant thespian and dancer (probably better than anyone else on stage in these two departments) but you ain’t no Lea Salonga. It was especially jarring whenever she launched her mediocre vocals into a duet with the formally trained Stephen Rahman-Hughes, and there was one cringe-worthy bit where she seemed to have lost her note. I was almost wishing that I had bought tickets for the show with the alternate cast instead. As it turned out, AC Mizal wasn’t playing Adipati that day, and the understudy, though physically impressive, did not quite have the booming voice that would strike fear into you.
But at least I’ve watched it, and although for me it’s not exactly at par with Miss Saigon, we’re getting there.
So did I enjoy the show? Let me just say that despite all the reviews (on par with West End & Broadway productions, according to some newspapers) I decided beforehand not to put my hopes up too high, lest I end up being sorely disappointed. And I’m glad I didn’t.
By Malaysian standards, it was a very ambitious production, and again by Malaysian standards it succeeded on certain levels. The set was pretty impressive, the score was good, albeit a bit too contemporary for me. I was hoping for something more like the M. Nasir-Siti Nurhaliza duet ‘Bagaikan Sakti’ that was the movie’s theme song, but the music was all new. I did enjoy Sultan Mahmud of Melaka’s jazzy number though, which was unexpected (jazz tunes in 15th century Malaya?) but somehow it portrayed the character to a tee. You could see a lot of heart and soul went into the show, but unfortunately, and especially for the title character, the passion could not quite make up for the lack of natural talent.
Oh yes, she did win Best Actress at the Malaysian and Asia Pacific film festivals, and she did spend weeks in a Javanese keraton learning the ropes of a Majapahit princess (method acting you!!) but this is after all a musical, where more than half of the dialogue is in song. With all due respect Datin Seri, you’re a brilliant thespian and dancer (probably better than anyone else on stage in these two departments) but you ain’t no Lea Salonga. It was especially jarring whenever she launched her mediocre vocals into a duet with the formally trained Stephen Rahman-Hughes, and there was one cringe-worthy bit where she seemed to have lost her note. I was almost wishing that I had bought tickets for the show with the alternate cast instead. As it turned out, AC Mizal wasn’t playing Adipati that day, and the understudy, though physically impressive, did not quite have the booming voice that would strike fear into you.
But at least I’ve watched it, and although for me it’s not exactly at par with Miss Saigon, we’re getting there.
Friday, 11 August 2006
A little dash of nostalgia
Due to the transformation the company is undergoing, we've been requested to relocate to different premises to make way for a sister unit. Today the company organised a Spring Cleaning exercise to facilitate a'lean and mean' relocation. Apparently we're only allowed one box of personal items per person in the new office. I don't foresee myself moving into the new office anyway - probably shipped off to Kerteh or wherever directly from this project - but I still had to sort out the junk from the useful stuff. Thirty minutes and I should be able to get rid of all the junk
Problem is, while they may look like junk to everyone else, all those files and folders are important to me. Two hours on and my old desk looked no different from when I started. I found myself on a sentimental journey, flipping through pages and remembering the sweat and tears I put in for this job or that, the long hours and nightmares I endured to come up with a project ITB that earned me two lines of praise from the client. This is all of my working life, this is all of the experiences and lessons of six years as a dedicated employee of this company. It was difficult for me to let things go, if only for the memories that they evoked.
Even more heart-wrenching was all those business improvement initiatives that I partook in. A friend jokingly called me the Company mascot after I participated in a company Branding workshop. And there was the Growth Strategy Study, when I spent half a day after my wedding finalising the presentation materials. Back then I was swept up in the dreams and visions of greatness, but that has all disappeared in a puff of smoke. All for nothing.
Yes, yes, I know I should be looking at the bigger picture, and I know that most of us are still secured of a job in the new set-up, but I still can't help feeling like the sacrificial lamb.
Problem is, while they may look like junk to everyone else, all those files and folders are important to me. Two hours on and my old desk looked no different from when I started. I found myself on a sentimental journey, flipping through pages and remembering the sweat and tears I put in for this job or that, the long hours and nightmares I endured to come up with a project ITB that earned me two lines of praise from the client. This is all of my working life, this is all of the experiences and lessons of six years as a dedicated employee of this company. It was difficult for me to let things go, if only for the memories that they evoked.
Even more heart-wrenching was all those business improvement initiatives that I partook in. A friend jokingly called me the Company mascot after I participated in a company Branding workshop. And there was the Growth Strategy Study, when I spent half a day after my wedding finalising the presentation materials. Back then I was swept up in the dreams and visions of greatness, but that has all disappeared in a puff of smoke. All for nothing.
Yes, yes, I know I should be looking at the bigger picture, and I know that most of us are still secured of a job in the new set-up, but I still can't help feeling like the sacrificial lamb.
Saturday, 29 July 2006
One of those days
I had one of those 'this can't be happening to me' days recently. One wrong thing after another.
The roads around KLCC were partially closed due to the ASEAN conference going on the whole week. Expecting massive jams, I decided to take the LRT to work. One day, as my brother was sending me off to the Bangsar station, I noticed that I'd left my handphone at home. No matter, I could always call him from the office to pick me up later. Then as I fumbled in my bag for my Touch n Go, I saw that my security pass was missing too. I made a mental note to pick up a temporary pass from the front desk when I reached my destination.
So there I was, striding purposefully towards the female security personnel, when I opened my purse to get my IC and - it wasn't there. Mentally I placed the blame on Nuaim, who is always emptying my purse of all my cards and cash. Panic started to mount when I couldn't find my driving license either. I quickly racked through my mind, trying to remember where I had placed these items as everything else was in place. Then it occurred to me that I had taken out my IC and driving card and placed them into a dinner purse when attending a kenduri last weekend. Kesian Nuaim tak pasal-pasal kena blame.
According to the big sign in front of me, I could only get the temporary pass in exchange for an IC, driving license or passport. As I had neither of these on my person, I smiled sheepishly at the female PB, wondering silently whether I could use one of my store loyalty cards instead. Was she going to turn me in for failing to carry my IC with me at all times? There's no jail sentence, is there?
The PB smiled back, trying very hard not to laugh. She asked if I could call a friend who would sign in on my behalf, but as I didn't have my phone with me, I couldn't reach anyone. The only person whose office number I remember happens to be my boss, and he was the last person I wanted to share this predicament with - though I have no qualms telling everyone else who bothers reading this blog what an airhead I can be.
I turned around, almost determined to take the LRT back home to collect all the forgotten stuff when thankfully enough I saw a colleague walking into the lobby. He obligingly 'lent' me his identity for the day.
That night I packed everything meticulously into my bag, and placed it right next to the bed. I'm not forgetting YOU anytime soon.
The roads around KLCC were partially closed due to the ASEAN conference going on the whole week. Expecting massive jams, I decided to take the LRT to work. One day, as my brother was sending me off to the Bangsar station, I noticed that I'd left my handphone at home. No matter, I could always call him from the office to pick me up later. Then as I fumbled in my bag for my Touch n Go, I saw that my security pass was missing too. I made a mental note to pick up a temporary pass from the front desk when I reached my destination.
So there I was, striding purposefully towards the female security personnel, when I opened my purse to get my IC and - it wasn't there. Mentally I placed the blame on Nuaim, who is always emptying my purse of all my cards and cash. Panic started to mount when I couldn't find my driving license either. I quickly racked through my mind, trying to remember where I had placed these items as everything else was in place. Then it occurred to me that I had taken out my IC and driving card and placed them into a dinner purse when attending a kenduri last weekend. Kesian Nuaim tak pasal-pasal kena blame.
According to the big sign in front of me, I could only get the temporary pass in exchange for an IC, driving license or passport. As I had neither of these on my person, I smiled sheepishly at the female PB, wondering silently whether I could use one of my store loyalty cards instead. Was she going to turn me in for failing to carry my IC with me at all times? There's no jail sentence, is there?
The PB smiled back, trying very hard not to laugh. She asked if I could call a friend who would sign in on my behalf, but as I didn't have my phone with me, I couldn't reach anyone. The only person whose office number I remember happens to be my boss, and he was the last person I wanted to share this predicament with - though I have no qualms telling everyone else who bothers reading this blog what an airhead I can be.
I turned around, almost determined to take the LRT back home to collect all the forgotten stuff when thankfully enough I saw a colleague walking into the lobby. He obligingly 'lent' me his identity for the day.
That night I packed everything meticulously into my bag, and placed it right next to the bed. I'm not forgetting YOU anytime soon.
Saturday, 22 July 2006
Mega Sale!!!
Tis the season to spend spend spend!
Today is the official launching of the nationwide Mega Sale, where supposedly everything in the country goes for a discounted price. Yeah right. I've fallen for it before, but it's not going to stop me from shopping. And it's happening right on my office doorstep.
Note to self: Suria KLCC 3-hour spendilicious sale on Monday 6 pm. I'm going to buy me these:
Today is the official launching of the nationwide Mega Sale, where supposedly everything in the country goes for a discounted price. Yeah right. I've fallen for it before, but it's not going to stop me from shopping. And it's happening right on my office doorstep.
Note to self: Suria KLCC 3-hour spendilicious sale on Monday 6 pm. I'm going to buy me these:
- A nice, proper watch for work. The one I'm wearing has become Nuaim's teething toy, despite him being beyond the teething phase by at least 18 months.
- Those lovely Hush Puppies shoes with the cute bows, even if they're not on sale. I can fully justify buying them, and I'll win the argument. I was a champion debater, you know.
Tuesday, 18 July 2006
Rindu Semakin Jauh
I think I'm going through the 'Mandi tak basah, makan tak kenyang, tidur tak lena' phase. So far only the eating and sleeping (or lack thereof) symptoms of the 'missing-you' syndrome have manifested themselves, but based on good IPS engineering practices, 2oo3 failures should be enough to trip the system. And boy am I tripping! Not good for maintaining breastmilk supply either. My production rate has dropped by half.
I had been caught up in the excitement of a new baby and coming back to work to notice Hubby's absence for the last month. I've realised that, pre-Sudan job, the longest I've ever been away from him is 3 weeks. And even then we were still in the same time zone, so my leisure time did not clash with his working hours, or vice versa. Right now, several thousand km and 5 hours apart, the distance has finally got to me. It sucks when he calls and our conversation is interrupted by requests to check whether the hydrotest for System 32 has been completed, or whether the Material Requisition for Anti-Surge Valves will be ready in time for the next shutdown. The result of which both the quality of my conversation and my work deteriorates.
One of my colleagues recently had to take a week off because the workload really got to him and stressed him out. He's back at work, looking a bit pale but happier now that we've acknowledged the problem. At least, I hope he's happier because I certainly didn't realised he was that depressed. Maybe I was just too absorbed in my own little world to notice.
It did get me thinking though, whether this is all really worth the effort. Some days I feel all charged up, ready to take on the world and everything life has to throw at me. These are my super-efficient, highly productive moments. Sadly those moments are scarce and far between nowadays. Where it once took me just 3 weeks to produce 4 technical specifications and 13 datasheets, I now take almost a month to produce only 1 document. It doesn't help that the PM is targetting for December to complete the engineering phase!
At times like these I really need my emotional punchbag. It helps that we perform the same job, albeit on different projects, so he understands exactly what problems I have to go through at work. Although sometimes this punchbag tends to swing back and hit me right in the face. Not physically, of course.
I miss the conversations we have over dinner or in the car, even if it's just to fret over Nuaim's latest hair-raising antics (he does a mean imitation of a Hindi movie rolling-on-the-ground scene nowadays) or coo over Nu'man's dimples. There are also other things that you just want to talk about in person in private, not via YM in an office environment. And definitely not in a blog with everyone else reading in.
15th August is such a long way away...
I had been caught up in the excitement of a new baby and coming back to work to notice Hubby's absence for the last month. I've realised that, pre-Sudan job, the longest I've ever been away from him is 3 weeks. And even then we were still in the same time zone, so my leisure time did not clash with his working hours, or vice versa. Right now, several thousand km and 5 hours apart, the distance has finally got to me. It sucks when he calls and our conversation is interrupted by requests to check whether the hydrotest for System 32 has been completed, or whether the Material Requisition for Anti-Surge Valves will be ready in time for the next shutdown. The result of which both the quality of my conversation and my work deteriorates.
One of my colleagues recently had to take a week off because the workload really got to him and stressed him out. He's back at work, looking a bit pale but happier now that we've acknowledged the problem. At least, I hope he's happier because I certainly didn't realised he was that depressed. Maybe I was just too absorbed in my own little world to notice.
It did get me thinking though, whether this is all really worth the effort. Some days I feel all charged up, ready to take on the world and everything life has to throw at me. These are my super-efficient, highly productive moments. Sadly those moments are scarce and far between nowadays. Where it once took me just 3 weeks to produce 4 technical specifications and 13 datasheets, I now take almost a month to produce only 1 document. It doesn't help that the PM is targetting for December to complete the engineering phase!
At times like these I really need my emotional punchbag. It helps that we perform the same job, albeit on different projects, so he understands exactly what problems I have to go through at work. Although sometimes this punchbag tends to swing back and hit me right in the face. Not physically, of course.
I miss the conversations we have over dinner or in the car, even if it's just to fret over Nuaim's latest hair-raising antics (he does a mean imitation of a Hindi movie rolling-on-the-ground scene nowadays) or coo over Nu'man's dimples. There are also other things that you just want to talk about in person in private, not via YM in an office environment. And definitely not in a blog with everyone else reading in.
15th August is such a long way away...
Want to know the real me?
I'm not a nice person. In fact, I'm downright rude and cruel and ungrateful most of the time. Except that all this happens in my head, and behind a fake smile pasted on my face.
Just so you know, when I'm just smiling at you saying nothing, the inner me is venting forth such venom you wouldn't survive if I said it out loud.
Why do I hold it back, bite my tongue?
Because I don't want to rock the boat. Because it's not worth all the fuss and agony. Because it's just rude. Unbecoming of me to say such things. And it'll hurt you. That's the intent of those words.
Sometimes I hold it back so much I become a pushover. Adoi, sakitnya jatuh.
Just so you know, when I'm just smiling at you saying nothing, the inner me is venting forth such venom you wouldn't survive if I said it out loud.
Why do I hold it back, bite my tongue?
Because I don't want to rock the boat. Because it's not worth all the fuss and agony. Because it's just rude. Unbecoming of me to say such things. And it'll hurt you. That's the intent of those words.
Sometimes I hold it back so much I become a pushover. Adoi, sakitnya jatuh.
Monday, 10 July 2006
Patting myself lamely on the back
Breath. In. Out. With relief.
So I passed the assessment. Only JUST. I think my assessors, one of whom is destined to become my future boss once I finish this current project, was more keen to make me pass than I was. The position ‘reserved’ for me in the new company is a higher grade that the one I’m in now, and I know my current supervisors aren’t going to let him hear the end of it if I didn’t make the cut.
I’d prepared a little speech in my head, in case they DID fail me. I would’ve said, in a disdainful tone with a couldn’t-care-less attitude, that with a full-time project and two kids, getting through the assessment was the least of my priorities at the moment. How what’s important is that so far all my projects are performing well (as if I played such a major role in getting it done) and none of my clients have complained. However, as we were nearing the end of the assessment, I was surprised to find how desperately I wanted to get through this. After all the high expectations and wonderful performance of 2004, it’d be a crushing disappointment to fail, not least for my superiors.
Also, I have to admit, my ego did take a bit of a beating. With everyone saying how I’ll get through with a breeze, I almost believed them. Instead my interview outran the allotted 2 hours by 90 minutes. No wonder I feel so drained!!
Some good did come out of it. We’ve acknowledged that I still lack the practical skills to become a well-rounded, competent engineer. And apparently I have a good grasp of the theory and concepts, although I fluffed up a lot of simple, everyday equations. In fact Future Boss seemed shocked when I said that I’d stay in engineering for now.
FB: “For now? What do you mean for now?”
Me: “Well, I have an option presented to me to go into management instead of staying in the technical line, and might decide to take that up in future.”
FB: “What options?”
After I explained to him that I definitely want to stay in engineering to strengthen my technical capabilities, and even if I were to go into management it would be in the technical line, he relaxed.
Sayang jugak korang kat aku ni.
So I passed the assessment. Only JUST. I think my assessors, one of whom is destined to become my future boss once I finish this current project, was more keen to make me pass than I was. The position ‘reserved’ for me in the new company is a higher grade that the one I’m in now, and I know my current supervisors aren’t going to let him hear the end of it if I didn’t make the cut.
I’d prepared a little speech in my head, in case they DID fail me. I would’ve said, in a disdainful tone with a couldn’t-care-less attitude, that with a full-time project and two kids, getting through the assessment was the least of my priorities at the moment. How what’s important is that so far all my projects are performing well (as if I played such a major role in getting it done) and none of my clients have complained. However, as we were nearing the end of the assessment, I was surprised to find how desperately I wanted to get through this. After all the high expectations and wonderful performance of 2004, it’d be a crushing disappointment to fail, not least for my superiors.
Also, I have to admit, my ego did take a bit of a beating. With everyone saying how I’ll get through with a breeze, I almost believed them. Instead my interview outran the allotted 2 hours by 90 minutes. No wonder I feel so drained!!
Some good did come out of it. We’ve acknowledged that I still lack the practical skills to become a well-rounded, competent engineer. And apparently I have a good grasp of the theory and concepts, although I fluffed up a lot of simple, everyday equations. In fact Future Boss seemed shocked when I said that I’d stay in engineering for now.
FB: “For now? What do you mean for now?”
Me: “Well, I have an option presented to me to go into management instead of staying in the technical line, and might decide to take that up in future.”
FB: “What options?”
After I explained to him that I definitely want to stay in engineering to strengthen my technical capabilities, and even if I were to go into management it would be in the technical line, he relaxed.
Sayang jugak korang kat aku ni.
Wednesday, 5 July 2006
Boss, I'm due for promotion
This wonderful Company is very sadistic about promoting people. It used to be (way back when I was still green in the job) that after a certain number of years in the same position, you'd get promoted to the next level, as long as there was a 'box' available for you. Strictly speaking, one had to attend a requisite number of functional training to be considered 'skilled' enough to be promoted, but this was not really implemented. People got by despite being less technically adept than their subordinates.
Someone must have alerted the Big Guys in 2002, because suddenly everyone's movement up the career ladder (at least those in the same job grade as me) was put on hold until they completed their training. The training centre had to hold extra sessions, all jam-packed with 20-plus participants, to cater for the number of personnel due for promotion. I was quite happy then to give up my training spot to more senior (read: more years in the company) people, as I'd already had two mini-promotions in as many years.
Then the salary scale was revised. Instead of just jumping from grade to grade, these were now grouped together into several 'bands'. Making the big leap from the bottom band (where I am now) required one not just to complete their training, but also to prove their technical competence through an oral assessment. And this is the headache for me. My assessment is in TWO DAYS' TIME!!!
If I had done the assessment back in 2004, I would have passed with flying colours.
I did go for a 'just-for-the-heck-of-it' assessment then, and the results were very encouraging. In fact, competency-wise, I leapfrogged at least half of my more senior colleagues. But as I had yet to finish my training then, I wasn't eligible for promotion anyway. Besides, I couldn't langkah bendul over so many other engineers in my department, so I didn't really make a fuss about it. After all, making the big leap after 6 years in the job, as opposed to 4, is still an achievement compared to some.
However, post-delivery and still recuperating from Pregnancy Brain Drain, I can't seem to recall anything from all the training and work I've done (except for the sweat and tears). I tried to get out of it by submitting the 2004 results, but apparently they're only valid for a year so I have to do it all over again. So here I am, in a self-imposed confinement back at the condo away from my kids, and what am I doing? Blogging and bloghopping as usual.
Aaargh!!! Stress siot!!!
Someone must have alerted the Big Guys in 2002, because suddenly everyone's movement up the career ladder (at least those in the same job grade as me) was put on hold until they completed their training. The training centre had to hold extra sessions, all jam-packed with 20-plus participants, to cater for the number of personnel due for promotion. I was quite happy then to give up my training spot to more senior (read: more years in the company) people, as I'd already had two mini-promotions in as many years.
Then the salary scale was revised. Instead of just jumping from grade to grade, these were now grouped together into several 'bands'. Making the big leap from the bottom band (where I am now) required one not just to complete their training, but also to prove their technical competence through an oral assessment. And this is the headache for me. My assessment is in TWO DAYS' TIME!!!
If I had done the assessment back in 2004, I would have passed with flying colours.
I did go for a 'just-for-the-heck-of-it' assessment then, and the results were very encouraging. In fact, competency-wise, I leapfrogged at least half of my more senior colleagues. But as I had yet to finish my training then, I wasn't eligible for promotion anyway. Besides, I couldn't langkah bendul over so many other engineers in my department, so I didn't really make a fuss about it. After all, making the big leap after 6 years in the job, as opposed to 4, is still an achievement compared to some.
However, post-delivery and still recuperating from Pregnancy Brain Drain, I can't seem to recall anything from all the training and work I've done (except for the sweat and tears). I tried to get out of it by submitting the 2004 results, but apparently they're only valid for a year so I have to do it all over again. So here I am, in a self-imposed confinement back at the condo away from my kids, and what am I doing? Blogging and bloghopping as usual.
Aaargh!!! Stress siot!!!
Saturday, 1 July 2006
Fashion victim
Part of the school uniform where I did my A-Levels in England was a dark blue V-neck jumper. It was compulsory for us to wear it throughout the year until Spring was officially announced, which would be some time in May or late April. For a foreign student like me who wasn't quiet used to the cold, I kept the jumper on almost throughout the whole school year. When it got too warm, some of the girls would wear the jumpers tied round their waists, much to the displeasure of our Headmaster. In fact, it so incurred his wrath that he brabded them 'victims of the tyranny of fashion'.
I have to admit feeling a bit like a victim these last few weeks. Having spent two months of maternity leave in shapeless T-shirts and baggy trousers, I was fretting over what to wear back to the office. Granted, I have regained my pre-pregnancy weight, but there's been a noticeable shift in the terrain. Certain parts have grown, while my previously narrow hips have become almost non-existent. I also realised that my scarves and workclothes were mismatched. My female logic deduced only one solution: SHOPPING!
Coincidentally, Hubby received some discount vouchers for the new MJ concept store. So of I went to check out the new outlet, with a mental list of the stuff I need:
I have to admit feeling a bit like a victim these last few weeks. Having spent two months of maternity leave in shapeless T-shirts and baggy trousers, I was fretting over what to wear back to the office. Granted, I have regained my pre-pregnancy weight, but there's been a noticeable shift in the terrain. Certain parts have grown, while my previously narrow hips have become almost non-existent. I also realised that my scarves and workclothes were mismatched. My female logic deduced only one solution: SHOPPING!
Coincidentally, Hubby received some discount vouchers for the new MJ concept store. So of I went to check out the new outlet, with a mental list of the stuff I need:
- Dark brown or grey trouser suit - jacket must end below bum to hide flatness
- Plain dark blue shirt to match existing patterned blue scarves
- Plain maroon/dark red shirt to match existing patterned maroon scarves
Instead, what I bought were:
- White shirt with red stripes
- White shirt with black stripes
And was tempted to almost buy:
- Black court shoes with cute ribbons
The reason being, I had a RM20 discount voucher that I could use if and only if the value of clothes purchased are at least RM120. And being a loyalty card and discount voucher junkie, I just had to spend money to make a saving. Some logic, huh? And this coming from an Instrument Engineer who designs Safety Systems for gas plants.
I figured I'd only need to spend RM100 in total. But the sales and marketing guys at MJ are really clever. The shirts I bought cost RM69.90 each, which meant I actually spent close to RM120 - no real saving. Any other combination of clothes that appealed to me would've cost RM119.80. I bet they marked up the price by 10 ringgit that month, just to snare hapless gullible consumers like me.
And I still haven't found what I'm looking for to match all those scarves.
Sunday, 25 June 2006
What Nuaim Did
Dearest Abang,
How are you in the land of camels and kharuf? I hope you're keeping well, and the sun is not too harsh on your skin. Yeah, yeah, I know it's not macho to wear sunblock and moisturiser, especially for a big guy like you, but skin cancer doesn't discriminate, kan?
How far away are you staying from the Red Sea? In a proper house or a cabin? And what time does the sun rise in Port Sudan? Just so I can visualise you jogging all the way to the beach in the morning, that's all. SMS doesn't provide enough space for very descriptive missives, and keeping Nuaim and Nu'man company doesn't leave enough time to SMS either. And it really bothers me when your handphone goes dead just when I'm describing Nuaim's latest antics. I never get to the "I Miss You" bit...
Nuaim was really restless yesterday. It started in the morning, when Mak's neighbour dropped by with her baby on the way to the store. Their house is one of those Nuaim visits in the evenings, because it has a fish pond. When they left (actually while they were still in Mak's living room), Nuaim wanted to go visit them at home to see the fish, despite there being no one around. He was getting very close to Tantrum Territory, so I decided to take him for a stroll at one of the shopping complexes, anywhere that has fish of the breathing & swimming variety. Does 1 Utama have a petshop? I must have confused it with Ikano Power Centre, because when I searched the shop index I couldn't find anything on pets or animals.
Luckily enough the Rainforest section had an aquarium of local freshwater fish, so that appeased him. And then we discovered there were actually several koi ponds and waterfalls there. So many fish, of all sizes and colour! I was content to just walk around with Nuaim until he saw two kids walking on a narrow wall between the trees and tried to literally follow in their footsteps. I had to lure him away with promises that we were going to see aeroplanes next. Fortunately there was a big styrofoam model of a jet fighter hanging in an atrium near GSC, and it was close enough to a juice bar so I could get some liquid sustenance.
We had to go through the toy section of U Parkson to get to the carpark. There were miniature cars, trucks, aeroplanes and space rockets in a glass display cabinet which caught his eye, and I had to hoist him up onto my shoulder so he could see the toys on the top shelf. I would have bought him a toy, but the pieces were either too small or too expensive. Tunggu balik Kelantan beli kat Rantau Panjang lah. Or when you come back with more moolah than you can spend.
Nuaim has somehow developed an aversion to being restrained in his car seat. He flipped and flopped on the back seat, and I didn't have the energy nor the patience to deal with him in a humid carpark, so I just made sure that the doors were locked and drove off with him lying on the floor. As we neared the exit, he clambered onto the passenger seat next to me, but still refused to put on the seat belt. It wasn't until we reached the traffic lights at the TTDI junction that I could finally strap him in. Of course, he was really tired by then (after two hours walking about, so was I), and fell asleep before we got home.
Now I understand why you always take a long nap after Nuaim's Sunday morning Tumble Tots session. I'm so sorry I nag you for it.
We went to see the house in TTDI Jaya in the afternoon. Mama and Bapak wanted to see the house too, and Apet roleplayed as a QS to help Azzam take measurements. Everyone was throwing ideas, and my initially simple plan of extending the kitchen and dining room started to grow bigger and bigger.
"You can extend the living room all round right up to the edge," said Mak.
"But then I'll have no verandah," I responded.
"You don't need a verandah."
"But I want one." I was starting to sound like a petulant little girl.
See, this is why I prefer to do things on my own. Mothers mean well, but sometimes they can be so... imposing. And that's when I start to act childish. It's not really me, I'm just responding to external stimuli.
It wasn't until Azzam pointed out that the column in the living room corner couldn't be removed did they drop the notion. Yay, I get to keep my verandah!!
Bapak had taken Nuaim to the playground in front of the house, so he didn't get to see the house properly until after we had finished discussing the renovation plans. By then, it was 6.30 pm and we had to rush home for Asar prayers. Bapak, Mama and your brothers stayed for a late tea and Maghrib prayers, but when they were about to leave Nuaim wanted to go with them. It was heartwrenching to hear Nuaim's cries, I was tempted to let them take him, but Bapak insisted that 'we shouldn't take the boy away from his mother. It's bad enough his father had to go away.' He's so considerate I almost feel guilty.
I've gone through all the videos of Nuaim in my PC and renamed them with more accurate descriptions of the contents. Going through his pudgy baby moments left me feeling nostalgic. How quickly they grow up! Soon Nu'man will be rolling, crawling, walking and running around too.
You may have noticed I don't write much about Nu'man. That's because he spends most of his time sleeping. Two nights ago, he went to sleep at almost midnight and didn't wake up at all till 8 a.m! He's such a happy baby, all you need to do is smile at him and he'll be grinning away! The only time he cries is when he's hungy, or Nuaim tumbles over him.
Oops, I promised to bake lasagna today and it's almost 4.30 so I better start now before the kids wake up.
It's been 12 days since you left. I miss you. How many weeks more before you come home? Is it 60 or 100 days before you get R&R? I hope things are improving over there, then you can come home sooner and we can all go stroll in the Rainforest together.
Lots of love,
Dian
How are you in the land of camels and kharuf? I hope you're keeping well, and the sun is not too harsh on your skin. Yeah, yeah, I know it's not macho to wear sunblock and moisturiser, especially for a big guy like you, but skin cancer doesn't discriminate, kan?
How far away are you staying from the Red Sea? In a proper house or a cabin? And what time does the sun rise in Port Sudan? Just so I can visualise you jogging all the way to the beach in the morning, that's all. SMS doesn't provide enough space for very descriptive missives, and keeping Nuaim and Nu'man company doesn't leave enough time to SMS either. And it really bothers me when your handphone goes dead just when I'm describing Nuaim's latest antics. I never get to the "I Miss You" bit...
Nuaim was really restless yesterday. It started in the morning, when Mak's neighbour dropped by with her baby on the way to the store. Their house is one of those Nuaim visits in the evenings, because it has a fish pond. When they left (actually while they were still in Mak's living room), Nuaim wanted to go visit them at home to see the fish, despite there being no one around. He was getting very close to Tantrum Territory, so I decided to take him for a stroll at one of the shopping complexes, anywhere that has fish of the breathing & swimming variety. Does 1 Utama have a petshop? I must have confused it with Ikano Power Centre, because when I searched the shop index I couldn't find anything on pets or animals.
Luckily enough the Rainforest section had an aquarium of local freshwater fish, so that appeased him. And then we discovered there were actually several koi ponds and waterfalls there. So many fish, of all sizes and colour! I was content to just walk around with Nuaim until he saw two kids walking on a narrow wall between the trees and tried to literally follow in their footsteps. I had to lure him away with promises that we were going to see aeroplanes next. Fortunately there was a big styrofoam model of a jet fighter hanging in an atrium near GSC, and it was close enough to a juice bar so I could get some liquid sustenance.
We had to go through the toy section of U Parkson to get to the carpark. There were miniature cars, trucks, aeroplanes and space rockets in a glass display cabinet which caught his eye, and I had to hoist him up onto my shoulder so he could see the toys on the top shelf. I would have bought him a toy, but the pieces were either too small or too expensive. Tunggu balik Kelantan beli kat Rantau Panjang lah. Or when you come back with more moolah than you can spend.
Nuaim has somehow developed an aversion to being restrained in his car seat. He flipped and flopped on the back seat, and I didn't have the energy nor the patience to deal with him in a humid carpark, so I just made sure that the doors were locked and drove off with him lying on the floor. As we neared the exit, he clambered onto the passenger seat next to me, but still refused to put on the seat belt. It wasn't until we reached the traffic lights at the TTDI junction that I could finally strap him in. Of course, he was really tired by then (after two hours walking about, so was I), and fell asleep before we got home.
Now I understand why you always take a long nap after Nuaim's Sunday morning Tumble Tots session. I'm so sorry I nag you for it.
We went to see the house in TTDI Jaya in the afternoon. Mama and Bapak wanted to see the house too, and Apet roleplayed as a QS to help Azzam take measurements. Everyone was throwing ideas, and my initially simple plan of extending the kitchen and dining room started to grow bigger and bigger.
"You can extend the living room all round right up to the edge," said Mak.
"But then I'll have no verandah," I responded.
"You don't need a verandah."
"But I want one." I was starting to sound like a petulant little girl.
See, this is why I prefer to do things on my own. Mothers mean well, but sometimes they can be so... imposing. And that's when I start to act childish. It's not really me, I'm just responding to external stimuli.
It wasn't until Azzam pointed out that the column in the living room corner couldn't be removed did they drop the notion. Yay, I get to keep my verandah!!
Bapak had taken Nuaim to the playground in front of the house, so he didn't get to see the house properly until after we had finished discussing the renovation plans. By then, it was 6.30 pm and we had to rush home for Asar prayers. Bapak, Mama and your brothers stayed for a late tea and Maghrib prayers, but when they were about to leave Nuaim wanted to go with them. It was heartwrenching to hear Nuaim's cries, I was tempted to let them take him, but Bapak insisted that 'we shouldn't take the boy away from his mother. It's bad enough his father had to go away.' He's so considerate I almost feel guilty.
I've gone through all the videos of Nuaim in my PC and renamed them with more accurate descriptions of the contents. Going through his pudgy baby moments left me feeling nostalgic. How quickly they grow up! Soon Nu'man will be rolling, crawling, walking and running around too.
You may have noticed I don't write much about Nu'man. That's because he spends most of his time sleeping. Two nights ago, he went to sleep at almost midnight and didn't wake up at all till 8 a.m! He's such a happy baby, all you need to do is smile at him and he'll be grinning away! The only time he cries is when he's hungy, or Nuaim tumbles over him.
Oops, I promised to bake lasagna today and it's almost 4.30 so I better start now before the kids wake up.
It's been 12 days since you left. I miss you. How many weeks more before you come home? Is it 60 or 100 days before you get R&R? I hope things are improving over there, then you can come home sooner and we can all go stroll in the Rainforest together.
Lots of love,
Dian
Thursday, 22 June 2006
Catatonic Road Rage
If all you've got to do today is find peace of mind
Come round you can take a piece of mine
And if all you've got to do today is hesitate,
Come here, you can leave it late with me.
You could be taking it easy on yourself
You should be making it easy on yourself
Cause you and I know,
It's all over the front page, you give me road rage,
Racing through the best days,
It's up to you boy you're driving me crazy,
Thinking you may be losing your mind.
It's all over the front page, you give me road rage,
Racing through the best days,
It's up to you boy you're driving me crazy,
Thinking you may be losing your mind.
If all you've got to prove today is your innocence,
Calm down, you're as guilty as can be,
If all you've got to lose alludes to yesterday,
Yesterday's through, now do anything you please.
You could be taking it easy on yourself
You should be making it easy on yourself
Calm down, you're as guilty as can be,
If all you've got to lose alludes to yesterday,
Yesterday's through, now do anything you please.
You could be taking it easy on yourself
You should be making it easy on yourself
Cause you and I know,
It's all over the front page, you give me road rage,
Racing through the best days,
It's up to you boy you're driving me crazy,
Thinking you may be losing your mind.
You're losing your mind.
It's all over the front page, you give me road rage,
Racing through the best days,
It's up to you boy you're driving me crazy,
Thinking you may be losing your mind.
You're losing your mind.
You, you've been racing through the best days
You, you've been racing through the best days.
Space age, road rage, fast lane,
You, you've been racing through the best days.
Space age, road rage, fast lane,
And if all you've got to do today is find peace of mind
Come here, you can take a piece of mine.
You could be taking it easy on yourself
You should be making it easy on yourself
Come here, you can take a piece of mine.
You could be taking it easy on yourself
You should be making it easy on yourself
Cause you and I know,
It's all over the front page, you give me road rage,
Racing through the best days,
It's up to you boy you're driving me crazy,
Thinking you may be losing your mind.
But you and I know,
We all live in the space age, coming down with road rage,
Racing through the best days
It's up to you boy you're driving me crazy,
Thinking you may be losing your mind.
It's not over, it's not over, it's not over,
It's all over the front page, you give me road rage,
Racing through the best days,
It's up to you boy you're driving me crazy,
Thinking you may be losing your mind.
But you and I know,
We all live in the space age, coming down with road rage,
Racing through the best days
It's up to you boy you're driving me crazy,
Thinking you may be losing your mind.
It's not over, it's not over, it's not over,
It's not over, it's not over, it's not over, you and I know
We all live in the space age, you give me road rage,
Racing to the best days
It's up to you boy you're driving me crazy,
Thinking you may be losing your mind.
Losing your mind
We all live in the space age, you give me road rage,
Racing to the best days
It's up to you boy you're driving me crazy,
Thinking you may be losing your mind.
Losing your mind
Monday, 12 June 2006
Hodge Podge
I turned 30 at the end of last month, and Nuaim turned 2 on the same day.
Nuaim, Nu'man and I were staying at my in-laws in Alor Star on my birthday. We were treated to a wonderful cheesecake from Secret Recipe, which was the first cheesecake I've had since 6 pm on 6th April 2004 (that probably helped Nu'man along his way to the big wide world outside my womb). The next day, we drove back to KL and reached Mak's house just after dinner, where another sinfully delicious chocolaty cake of the same company was waiting for us. Nuaim was too scared to blow out the candles on his own. He kept calling them 'bunga api', probably because they reminded him of the fireworks during the SUKMA opening ceremony.
We didn't have time to throw him a proper party, as it was a hectic 3-day weekend with all the travelling to, from and around Kelantan for a relative's wedding. There were cousins, nieces and nephews I hadn't met in ages, so much so that I had a terrible time recalling all their names. Hey, when you've got 45 cousins, some of whom have doubled their own offspring since the last time you saw them, what are the chances of being able to tell them all apart?
Anyway, the thing I really wanted to talk about was this: turning 30.
It's supposed to be a semi-major milestone, a precursor to life begins at 40 (when youth ends, I'd like to add). One can no longer blame the raging hormones of a twenty-something for any dodgy decisions or actions. I heard on Radio IKIM some time ago (and it's about the only thing I've ever heard on radio that really sticks to mind), that when we die and the Day of Reckoning is upon us, the only years that matter are the first 40 years of our lives. So whatever worthy cause or act should have already been over and done with before life even begins. That means I've got 10 years left to make up for and outweigh all the bad and inconsequential stuff I've done in the past. And since I'm no angel and definitely not a saint, not all of the remaining 10 years of youth is going to be well spent either.
So it's good to reflect on the past 30 years and figure out whether I've got what it takes to tip the scales towards the good side of average.
For the life (and afterlife) of me, though, everything I've ever achieved seem to be only for worldly ends. I consistently got good grades, earned a much coveted scholarship to study in the UK, and graduated with top class honours. Got a good stable job, got a house, a car, got married and have two kids.
Applause. Well done. Pat myself on the back.
But what really counts? Things I have, or how I treat what I have? Especially the family bit. I love them all really, but I do wish I treat them better. Be more polite, loving, affectionate, patient and caring. Learn to bite my tongue when my words could very well end up biting their hearts (which, unfortunately, they almost always do). To accept and give unconditionally. I'm an easy person to fall in love with, but terrible to live with.
So my birthday resolution is this: for the next 10 years - and beyond, I shall be the most wonderful wife, mother, daughter, sister and citizen of the world I can be.
It's a shame that just as I realise this, Hubby finally got his wish to join an overseas project. He's leaving tomorrow and will be away for 60 days at least. How now?
In the midst of the World Cup, where other women cry foul over being substituted with football as their partners' constant companion, I am joining the ranks of the Sudan project widows...
****************************
On a lighter note, here's a picture of Muhammad Nu'man, at the age of 2 months.
Nuaim, Nu'man and I were staying at my in-laws in Alor Star on my birthday. We were treated to a wonderful cheesecake from Secret Recipe, which was the first cheesecake I've had since 6 pm on 6th April 2004 (that probably helped Nu'man along his way to the big wide world outside my womb). The next day, we drove back to KL and reached Mak's house just after dinner, where another sinfully delicious chocolaty cake of the same company was waiting for us. Nuaim was too scared to blow out the candles on his own. He kept calling them 'bunga api', probably because they reminded him of the fireworks during the SUKMA opening ceremony.
We didn't have time to throw him a proper party, as it was a hectic 3-day weekend with all the travelling to, from and around Kelantan for a relative's wedding. There were cousins, nieces and nephews I hadn't met in ages, so much so that I had a terrible time recalling all their names. Hey, when you've got 45 cousins, some of whom have doubled their own offspring since the last time you saw them, what are the chances of being able to tell them all apart?
Anyway, the thing I really wanted to talk about was this: turning 30.
It's supposed to be a semi-major milestone, a precursor to life begins at 40 (when youth ends, I'd like to add). One can no longer blame the raging hormones of a twenty-something for any dodgy decisions or actions. I heard on Radio IKIM some time ago (and it's about the only thing I've ever heard on radio that really sticks to mind), that when we die and the Day of Reckoning is upon us, the only years that matter are the first 40 years of our lives. So whatever worthy cause or act should have already been over and done with before life even begins. That means I've got 10 years left to make up for and outweigh all the bad and inconsequential stuff I've done in the past. And since I'm no angel and definitely not a saint, not all of the remaining 10 years of youth is going to be well spent either.
So it's good to reflect on the past 30 years and figure out whether I've got what it takes to tip the scales towards the good side of average.
For the life (and afterlife) of me, though, everything I've ever achieved seem to be only for worldly ends. I consistently got good grades, earned a much coveted scholarship to study in the UK, and graduated with top class honours. Got a good stable job, got a house, a car, got married and have two kids.
Applause. Well done. Pat myself on the back.
But what really counts? Things I have, or how I treat what I have? Especially the family bit. I love them all really, but I do wish I treat them better. Be more polite, loving, affectionate, patient and caring. Learn to bite my tongue when my words could very well end up biting their hearts (which, unfortunately, they almost always do). To accept and give unconditionally. I'm an easy person to fall in love with, but terrible to live with.
So my birthday resolution is this: for the next 10 years - and beyond, I shall be the most wonderful wife, mother, daughter, sister and citizen of the world I can be.
It's a shame that just as I realise this, Hubby finally got his wish to join an overseas project. He's leaving tomorrow and will be away for 60 days at least. How now?
In the midst of the World Cup, where other women cry foul over being substituted with football as their partners' constant companion, I am joining the ranks of the Sudan project widows...
****************************
On a lighter note, here's a picture of Muhammad Nu'man, at the age of 2 months.
Wednesday, 17 May 2006
Little Wise Old Man
Yes, finally I habis pantang so can climb up the stairs to get to an online PC and blog here!
I gave birth to Muhammad Nu'man bin Mohamad Ariff weighing 3.24 kg and measuring 46 cm in length on 6th April, 2006 at 10.55 p.m.
He's almost exactly like Nuaim, but exactly half a kilo lighter, two inches shorter and more than a shade darker than his Abang Long. However, in 40 days and purely on breastmilk (yay!) Nu'man has grown into a larger than average size of 4.7 kg and 57 cm. At this rate he'll outgrow Nuaim in no time at all.
I call him The Wise Old Man as he seems to have a very calm demeanour. He hardly cries, doesn't demand much attention and coolly accepts whatever treatment he receives. As opposed to Abang Long Nuaim @ The Drama Queen.
More posts and pictures later.
I gave birth to Muhammad Nu'man bin Mohamad Ariff weighing 3.24 kg and measuring 46 cm in length on 6th April, 2006 at 10.55 p.m.
He's almost exactly like Nuaim, but exactly half a kilo lighter, two inches shorter and more than a shade darker than his Abang Long. However, in 40 days and purely on breastmilk (yay!) Nu'man has grown into a larger than average size of 4.7 kg and 57 cm. At this rate he'll outgrow Nuaim in no time at all.
I call him The Wise Old Man as he seems to have a very calm demeanour. He hardly cries, doesn't demand much attention and coolly accepts whatever treatment he receives. As opposed to Abang Long Nuaim @ The Drama Queen.
More posts and pictures later.
Tuesday, 4 April 2006
It's my baby and I'll try if I want to...
So this is it. The final countdown has begun.
By this time tomorrow, InsyaAllah if everything goes well, I'll be holding my second son in my arms. And it'll be at the end of a journey with so many crossroads to choose from.
I started my leave yesterday. In the last week, my baby's growth has leapt from a smallish 2.4 kg to a 'just nice' 3 kg. Just to be sure that we covered all eventualities, my gynae did a measurement of my pelvis, then looked at me with a sceptical eye and said, "Are you a sportswoman?"
Turns out I have a narrow pelvis, about an opening of only 11 cm, which is actually the borderline size for a normal vaginal delivery. If Nuaim had insisted on coming out through normal channels instead of C-section, he would definitely have gotten stuck not even halfway through. As it is, with this pregnancy, now is the best time for me to deliver the baby. Doc advised me to go for a planned, induced labour. I told her I'll wait it out, at least till Wednesday. And that's tomorrow.
I had decided much earlier on a vaginal birth and for labour to start naturally instead of being induced. In the past few weeks, conditions seemed favourable for what people still call a 'normal' birth (as if having a C-section makes one a freak!). So despite not having to work anymore, I'm trying to keep myself busy and active. According to a colleague, that and eating loads of food helps to speed up the onset of labour. Eating for me is not a problem. And Hubby of course was ecstatic that a certain activity would also help to - ahem - 'dilate the cervix.' I was half-expecting (and hoping) for a 'show' in the middle of the night, but except for a certain heaviness in my lower abdomen, nothing's happened yet.
So yesterday, wishing that I didn't have to and telling myself it's only a backup plan, I called the hospital to book me in for tonight.
Right now I'm stuck between having to deal with two extreme 'mindsets'. Mak, who has never had a Caesarean (in fact Nuaim's delivery was the first in our family) wants me to go au naturel and wait for the labour to commence on its own. She also thinks my doctor is generally biased towards performing a C-section, regardless of the patient's condition; and that somehow getting labour induced is just going to lead to another surgery. I keep telling her that if I wait any longer, chances are the baby will be too big and I won't even be able to try for a vaginal birth, but somehow that reasoning seems to escape her.
MIL, on the other hand, delivered all 3 sons 'through the window', so I get more sympathy from her. I tell her that this is the best time for me to try for a normal delivery, so I really want to grab this window of opportunity, but we'll just have to wait and see how I get along tomorrow. She keeps telling me not to force myself if I feel I can't go through with it, that it's more important for both me and the baby to be safe.
Sometimes I wish I had planned to spend my confinement in Alor Setar instead of here, but there are too many things to deal with that actually requires me to be here.
And then, of course there's ... but we'll not talk about it here. Not yet, anyway.
Things are also getting pretty emotional between me and Nuaim now. He seems to be so clingy nowadays, and despite the fact that he's been spending nights away from me (to get him over his breastfeeding 'addiction') he still gets really upset when he wants to 'mamam' and I refuse him. Sometimes I give in, because I'm too tired of arguing and also because deep down inside I just want to be able to spoil him like everyone else does. After all, I am his mother, aren't I? I should be entitled to spoil him rotten like nobody's business if I want to.
Dear God, I so wish this thing will be over quickly and safely. I guess asking for everyone to be happy is too much, but just as long as I'm happy, boleh tak?
By this time tomorrow, InsyaAllah if everything goes well, I'll be holding my second son in my arms. And it'll be at the end of a journey with so many crossroads to choose from.
I started my leave yesterday. In the last week, my baby's growth has leapt from a smallish 2.4 kg to a 'just nice' 3 kg. Just to be sure that we covered all eventualities, my gynae did a measurement of my pelvis, then looked at me with a sceptical eye and said, "Are you a sportswoman?"
Turns out I have a narrow pelvis, about an opening of only 11 cm, which is actually the borderline size for a normal vaginal delivery. If Nuaim had insisted on coming out through normal channels instead of C-section, he would definitely have gotten stuck not even halfway through. As it is, with this pregnancy, now is the best time for me to deliver the baby. Doc advised me to go for a planned, induced labour. I told her I'll wait it out, at least till Wednesday. And that's tomorrow.
I had decided much earlier on a vaginal birth and for labour to start naturally instead of being induced. In the past few weeks, conditions seemed favourable for what people still call a 'normal' birth (as if having a C-section makes one a freak!). So despite not having to work anymore, I'm trying to keep myself busy and active. According to a colleague, that and eating loads of food helps to speed up the onset of labour. Eating for me is not a problem. And Hubby of course was ecstatic that a certain activity would also help to - ahem - 'dilate the cervix.' I was half-expecting (and hoping) for a 'show' in the middle of the night, but except for a certain heaviness in my lower abdomen, nothing's happened yet.
So yesterday, wishing that I didn't have to and telling myself it's only a backup plan, I called the hospital to book me in for tonight.
Right now I'm stuck between having to deal with two extreme 'mindsets'. Mak, who has never had a Caesarean (in fact Nuaim's delivery was the first in our family) wants me to go au naturel and wait for the labour to commence on its own. She also thinks my doctor is generally biased towards performing a C-section, regardless of the patient's condition; and that somehow getting labour induced is just going to lead to another surgery. I keep telling her that if I wait any longer, chances are the baby will be too big and I won't even be able to try for a vaginal birth, but somehow that reasoning seems to escape her.
MIL, on the other hand, delivered all 3 sons 'through the window', so I get more sympathy from her. I tell her that this is the best time for me to try for a normal delivery, so I really want to grab this window of opportunity, but we'll just have to wait and see how I get along tomorrow. She keeps telling me not to force myself if I feel I can't go through with it, that it's more important for both me and the baby to be safe.
Sometimes I wish I had planned to spend my confinement in Alor Setar instead of here, but there are too many things to deal with that actually requires me to be here.
And then, of course there's ... but we'll not talk about it here. Not yet, anyway.
Things are also getting pretty emotional between me and Nuaim now. He seems to be so clingy nowadays, and despite the fact that he's been spending nights away from me (to get him over his breastfeeding 'addiction') he still gets really upset when he wants to 'mamam' and I refuse him. Sometimes I give in, because I'm too tired of arguing and also because deep down inside I just want to be able to spoil him like everyone else does. After all, I am his mother, aren't I? I should be entitled to spoil him rotten like nobody's business if I want to.
Dear God, I so wish this thing will be over quickly and safely. I guess asking for everyone to be happy is too much, but just as long as I'm happy, boleh tak?
Thursday, 30 March 2006
Arsenal did it again!
Arsenal 2 - Juventus 0.
Of course I didn't watch the game. After Arsenal managed to beat Real Madrid in the last round, I thought that was the best result they'd ever get this season. Having to face Juventus, who are almost sure to win the Italian league title this year, seemed too high a mountain to climb. Especially as we had to face former captain Vieira, who has been instrumental to Juve's current form.
So it came as a surprise when after dinner last night my sister (who's a big Juve fan, by the way) said something to the effect of, "Juve's finished. After 2-0 I don't know if they can come back."
The papers yesterday, of course, didn't get to cover the story in time, but finding out later is just as sweet.
Of course I didn't watch the game. After Arsenal managed to beat Real Madrid in the last round, I thought that was the best result they'd ever get this season. Having to face Juventus, who are almost sure to win the Italian league title this year, seemed too high a mountain to climb. Especially as we had to face former captain Vieira, who has been instrumental to Juve's current form.
So it came as a surprise when after dinner last night my sister (who's a big Juve fan, by the way) said something to the effect of, "Juve's finished. After 2-0 I don't know if they can come back."
The papers yesterday, of course, didn't get to cover the story in time, but finding out later is just as sweet.
Monday, 27 March 2006
The Workshop at the Saujana
As promised, a very long post on the Workshop in Subang, which took place on Wednesday and Thursday last week. Or read - what you get when you pay a management consultant exorbitant amounts of money to conduct a session where you have to do all the dirty work yourself.
When I checked in at the Main Hotel Lobby on Wednesday morning, I was told that my room would be at 'The Club' and I had to check in there instead. Ooh, sounds pretty exclusive. They had a car bring me round to the Club, which was located towards one end of the resort. I checked into a room which had a view of a landscape pool, with the lake in the distance. Having settled myself in, I called up the guy I was supposed to meet for the briefing.
We agreed to meet at the lounge, where he explained to me that all I had to do was 'interview' a member of the Top Management, get together with other similar interviewers and 'synthesise' our findings into a presentation back to the Big Boys (and a Lady). Oh, and watch some video set in the future which was supposed to be very impressive. The top guns had already been briefed about the interview, and it seemed as if they had quite a lot more to do over the next two days, so I was set for a quite relaxing stay here. Or so I thought.
I went back to my room, feeling really hungry, so I ordered a Hamburger and a pot of Milo that cost just under RM50. At 2.45 pm, as agreed, I made my way down to meet with the rest of the group. When I got there, I was told that the session was postponed to 4 pm, and the venue had changed. When we regrouped at the restaurant for the interview, we had to wait another hour before it was time to 'pick up' our partners in their briefing room.
I have to admit to panicking for a while, as I don't really recognise the Top Management except for maybe 3 or 4 persons. My partner was not one of these 3 or 4. Someone described him as wearing a coat and a red tie, but when we got to the room no one had a coat and tie on. Fortunately, he was sitting right next to someone else I knew, who promptly introduced us.
The interview went quite well. I hardly had to do any prompting, and before I knew it, the interview had ended. Then the tables were turned and I got interviewed instead, starting from where Iwork back to my schooling. As we walked back to the briefing room, the topic turned to my pregnancy. The small size of my tummy, hidden under the voluminous black abaya I was wearing, misled him into thinking that I was actually in the earlier stage. When I informed him I had 3 weeks to go, he seemed genuinely surprised that I was still up and about.
Anyway, because of the delay that afternoon, the 'synthesis' discussion took quite some time. I don't understand why they have to make us get into four groups, present each group's findings then combine into two and finally one list of findings, when everyone had pretty similar results. By the time we finished the list itself, it was almost time for dinner. We hardly had enough time to squeeze in Maghrib prayers, let alone take a nice long shower, before we had to turn up at the same interview venue for an Italian dinner.
The food itself was good, but I have to admit I wasn't very good company. I've always been really bad at making small talk. I mean, how do you speak to company VP's, especially when the topic was on BMW's and golf, two things I have never really had the pleasure of indulging in?
In a way I was glad when dinner was finally over, but we had to head back to our discussion room to devise a presentation format for the next day. It didn't help that the room's aircon wasn't working, and I really think we were not that productive considering the time and the location. Hubby and Nuaim had decided to come over to spend the night, but by the time I trudged back to my room, both of them were already dozing away. Nuaim slept soundly the whole night, in fact when he left with Hubby in the morning, he hadn't even laid eyes on me.
I was tired, sleepy and missed playing with my baby. I think I deserved to have a good cry, so I did.
When I made it downstairs to breakfast, I had my professional, confident face back on. We worked on our presentation, again in that really hot room, and didn't get to watch the video. Lunch was a hot and humid affair, despite having it indoors, and we were 'treated' to a speech by one of the consultant's big shots that, to my engineering mind, didn't offer anything concrete or tangible to take away as food for thought. I felt like a plant wilting in the heat, so just had to take a shower. This resulted in me being late for our last minute presentation dry run, and I wasn't really able to take in the last slides before we had to head off to do the presentation proper.
It could have been worse. No one told me that they decided to make do without the music, so when the slides came onscreen I thought it was just a technical test and I missed my cue for the narration. Fortunately things went smoothly enough, and my insipid attempt to wrap things up with a golf joke was warmly appreciated.
I was looking forward to checking out, going home and spending a couple of hours with Nuaim before heading back here for another dinner, but we weren't let off so easily. I suppose after the huge amount of money we must have paid them for the video, we were obliged to at least watch it.
It turned out to be a collection of 10 different scenes, all intertwined, set in 2010. The scenes were supposed to depict how things would (ideally) be like in the future, especially concerning Leadership and Performance Management. I was expecting a very hi-tech look a la 'Minority Report', with arms sweeping over virtual screens and retina scans, but the only difference was that everyone, despite having Asian names, spoke in an American accent. I was hungry and hot (temperature, not personality) and really couldn't be bothered to analyse all the stuff. My table kept making funny remarks about the people appearing in the video, which lasted a whole 2 hours.
Dinner that night was much more enjoyable. Knowing that it was finally over brought a huge sense of relief to me, and my dinner companions stuck to topics I could really appreciate. The waiter must be new, because he kept misreading all the non-verbal instructions (and misunderstood some verbal ones too) and I bet he actually hailed from mainland China, judging from his accent.
Hubby picked me up at 10, but when I reached Mak's house my in-laws were there, and I couldn't just excuse myself and go straight to bed. Add to that a restless son who wouldn't let me sleep and a busy weekend, it's no wonder I feel as knackered as I do today.
And I still haven't started on the Forum notes.
When I checked in at the Main Hotel Lobby on Wednesday morning, I was told that my room would be at 'The Club' and I had to check in there instead. Ooh, sounds pretty exclusive. They had a car bring me round to the Club, which was located towards one end of the resort. I checked into a room which had a view of a landscape pool, with the lake in the distance. Having settled myself in, I called up the guy I was supposed to meet for the briefing.
We agreed to meet at the lounge, where he explained to me that all I had to do was 'interview' a member of the Top Management, get together with other similar interviewers and 'synthesise' our findings into a presentation back to the Big Boys (and a Lady). Oh, and watch some video set in the future which was supposed to be very impressive. The top guns had already been briefed about the interview, and it seemed as if they had quite a lot more to do over the next two days, so I was set for a quite relaxing stay here. Or so I thought.
I went back to my room, feeling really hungry, so I ordered a Hamburger and a pot of Milo that cost just under RM50. At 2.45 pm, as agreed, I made my way down to meet with the rest of the group. When I got there, I was told that the session was postponed to 4 pm, and the venue had changed. When we regrouped at the restaurant for the interview, we had to wait another hour before it was time to 'pick up' our partners in their briefing room.
I have to admit to panicking for a while, as I don't really recognise the Top Management except for maybe 3 or 4 persons. My partner was not one of these 3 or 4. Someone described him as wearing a coat and a red tie, but when we got to the room no one had a coat and tie on. Fortunately, he was sitting right next to someone else I knew, who promptly introduced us.
The interview went quite well. I hardly had to do any prompting, and before I knew it, the interview had ended. Then the tables were turned and I got interviewed instead, starting from where Iwork back to my schooling. As we walked back to the briefing room, the topic turned to my pregnancy. The small size of my tummy, hidden under the voluminous black abaya I was wearing, misled him into thinking that I was actually in the earlier stage. When I informed him I had 3 weeks to go, he seemed genuinely surprised that I was still up and about.
Anyway, because of the delay that afternoon, the 'synthesis' discussion took quite some time. I don't understand why they have to make us get into four groups, present each group's findings then combine into two and finally one list of findings, when everyone had pretty similar results. By the time we finished the list itself, it was almost time for dinner. We hardly had enough time to squeeze in Maghrib prayers, let alone take a nice long shower, before we had to turn up at the same interview venue for an Italian dinner.
The food itself was good, but I have to admit I wasn't very good company. I've always been really bad at making small talk. I mean, how do you speak to company VP's, especially when the topic was on BMW's and golf, two things I have never really had the pleasure of indulging in?
In a way I was glad when dinner was finally over, but we had to head back to our discussion room to devise a presentation format for the next day. It didn't help that the room's aircon wasn't working, and I really think we were not that productive considering the time and the location. Hubby and Nuaim had decided to come over to spend the night, but by the time I trudged back to my room, both of them were already dozing away. Nuaim slept soundly the whole night, in fact when he left with Hubby in the morning, he hadn't even laid eyes on me.
I was tired, sleepy and missed playing with my baby. I think I deserved to have a good cry, so I did.
When I made it downstairs to breakfast, I had my professional, confident face back on. We worked on our presentation, again in that really hot room, and didn't get to watch the video. Lunch was a hot and humid affair, despite having it indoors, and we were 'treated' to a speech by one of the consultant's big shots that, to my engineering mind, didn't offer anything concrete or tangible to take away as food for thought. I felt like a plant wilting in the heat, so just had to take a shower. This resulted in me being late for our last minute presentation dry run, and I wasn't really able to take in the last slides before we had to head off to do the presentation proper.
It could have been worse. No one told me that they decided to make do without the music, so when the slides came onscreen I thought it was just a technical test and I missed my cue for the narration. Fortunately things went smoothly enough, and my insipid attempt to wrap things up with a golf joke was warmly appreciated.
I was looking forward to checking out, going home and spending a couple of hours with Nuaim before heading back here for another dinner, but we weren't let off so easily. I suppose after the huge amount of money we must have paid them for the video, we were obliged to at least watch it.
It turned out to be a collection of 10 different scenes, all intertwined, set in 2010. The scenes were supposed to depict how things would (ideally) be like in the future, especially concerning Leadership and Performance Management. I was expecting a very hi-tech look a la 'Minority Report', with arms sweeping over virtual screens and retina scans, but the only difference was that everyone, despite having Asian names, spoke in an American accent. I was hungry and hot (temperature, not personality) and really couldn't be bothered to analyse all the stuff. My table kept making funny remarks about the people appearing in the video, which lasted a whole 2 hours.
Dinner that night was much more enjoyable. Knowing that it was finally over brought a huge sense of relief to me, and my dinner companions stuck to topics I could really appreciate. The waiter must be new, because he kept misreading all the non-verbal instructions (and misunderstood some verbal ones too) and I bet he actually hailed from mainland China, judging from his accent.
Hubby picked me up at 10, but when I reached Mak's house my in-laws were there, and I couldn't just excuse myself and go straight to bed. Add to that a restless son who wouldn't let me sleep and a busy weekend, it's no wonder I feel as knackered as I do today.
And I still haven't started on the Forum notes.
Sunday, 19 March 2006
Any Time Now...
Almost everyone I bump into at the office keeps asking me the same question: "So when are you due?"
When I tell them my due date is 13th April, the response is always, "Oh, any time now then."
Seriously, I think they should put in the Project schedule as one of the major milestones: Senior Field Instrument Engineer EDD.
I had estimated that towards the end of March things would have slowed down for me at the office, leaving me with enough time on my hands to blog, and pick up where I left off with 'What to Expect when you're Expecting' (which is somewhere in month 4 or 5, so that's a lot to catch up). At my 36th week check-up the baby's already engaged in the pelvis with an estimated weight of 2.4 kg, much smaller than Nuaim was at that stage, but a good 600g up from the previous two weeks. A week later, the weight hasn't changed but my cervix has already dilated by 1 cm, probably due to the fact that I've been here, there and everywhere, much to the distress of everyone else around me.
Today, despite my resolve to work right up to 'Labour Day', I've decided to stay at home. Correction - Hubby decided I should stay at home and get some rest, so like the good wife I agreed to do his bidding.
It doesn't stop my mind from going into hyperdrive though.
I've realised that lately my body is having a really tough time catching up with my brain, especially with so much mental stimulation on offer. Which is probably the thing that lead me to this state of lethargy.
First of course, there was the yearly appraisal that gripped everyone in high fever. Everyone knows it takes no small amount of brainpower and creativity to make the most mundane task read like a really crucial contribution to the company's growth, just to ensure you get that extra salary increment and performance bonus. Never mind that it causes the real value-adding/ profit-making work to come to a standstill for the whole month of March. Finding the right balance between having multiple objectives (to make it look like you did a lot of work, therefore are indispensible) and having delivered a really outstanding job (after all, too many mediocre results ain't gonna get you an overall rating of 'Exceeding Expectations' in the end) is something I'm still trying to figure out, even after 4 review cycles. The thing is I'm proud of the little short-term things that I did, because I think I did them very well, whereas the longer-term jobs was just a matter of going through the motions for me. Although some may argue that my motions are better than most in my current grade. The only reason of course being that with the new job grade structure, despite two fast-track promotions in the past, I am now no different from a junior engineer who's only left uni a year ago.
Then there was the Project Managers' Forum at Marriott Putrajaya last week. I had already planned since a month ago to attend the Forum, partly via some encouragement from a very senior person who had roped me in to help prepare some speeches for the VIP's (now I know what Rob Lowe's character in 'The West Wing' feels like), and partly because I knew the project wouldn't mind me being absent for a few days, since most if not all my deliverables were already completed. Besides, you don't always get to stay in a really posh hotel on company expenses. What happened in the end though, was that I actually had to stay attentive throughout the Forum to jot down the important points of several speeches and presentations, to be compiled into some report.
Okaylah, whatever.
Anyway, in the week leading up to the Forum, I was assigned at the very last minute to the Technical Evaluation team for a package that I'm not entirely familiar with. Yeah, yeah, I know I helped to write the Evaluation criteria, but that was only because I was standing in for my LE at the time (and I made sure this was recorded in my appraisal) and my colleague who prepared the specs was overburdened with other work. In the end I don't know if my evaluation actually bears any great impact to who gets the job. It still wasn't finished when I left for Putrajaya, and I still have a couple of bids to look at. Plus the evaluation actually takes place in Tower 1.
As I was rushing across the skybridge on Friday 17th, I received an e-mail asking me to be in Subang Jaya for some sort of Management Offsite Session right after the Forum, subject 'to the (Company) President's final approval.' What? I may have to rush from Putrajaya to the other side of town, and you can't even decide whether you really need me to go or not? Add to that, my appraisal form had to be finalised by the very same day, and I was still chasing former Project Managers for a performance rating.
Fortunately, said PM also attended the Forum, so after a so-called 'Networking Dinner' where I sat with all-too-familiar faces, I was able to finalise the appraisal and send it off to the office via Hubby who consented to playing 'Mat Despatch'. Of course, this was after a Saturday which was half-spent playing a waiting game at the hospital for a 10-minute check-up, and ended with a visit to see a relative in Kajang who had to be hospitalised a week before her sister's engagement; and a Sunday when I wanted to relax but for Nuaim who, for some strange reason, stayed awake throughout the day despite waking up at 7 a.m, a Tumble Tots session at 10.30 and a swim around 4 pm after checking in at the Marriott. By Maghrib I was almost screaming my head off for Hubby to take him back to Mak's house like we planned, just so I didn't have to keep picking him up whenever he fell off the armchair after an attempt to play Superman. Hubby, of course, believes in letting Nuaim fall from high places so that he'll learn from consequences. What gives him that idea I'll never know, as he himself has never learnt to put on the seat belt or drive within the speed limit despite the numerous traffic summonses.
Anyway, the Forum itself was very good, there were some really amazing speakers (and even more brilliant session chairmen) but the hotel, I feel, has slackened somewhat.
I received the call on Monday evening confirming my selection for this Offsite workshop in Subang, and please can you attend the briefing on Tuesday afternoon? I tell them, in the politest way possible, that this was impossible, but that I'll see them on Wednesday morning instead since the session itself only starts on Wednesday afternoon.
So I did get to go home on Tuesday night, and despite my best intentions to make it to the office on Wednesday morning just to see how things were getting along without me, I decided to stay back home till 10 a.m. when I had to go off to the Saujana Resort in Subang.
Right, next is the Workshop. My mystery disappearance from the office that led everyone to thinking I had already started my maternity leave. For some reason I feel the need to write down every little detail of what happened while not disclosing several confidential issues, so bear with me. Or stop reading right now. But this is almost one week's worth of blogging so it's a very long post. Oh sod it, I'll just keep it as another entry.
When I tell them my due date is 13th April, the response is always, "Oh, any time now then."
Seriously, I think they should put in the Project schedule as one of the major milestones: Senior Field Instrument Engineer EDD.
I had estimated that towards the end of March things would have slowed down for me at the office, leaving me with enough time on my hands to blog, and pick up where I left off with 'What to Expect when you're Expecting' (which is somewhere in month 4 or 5, so that's a lot to catch up). At my 36th week check-up the baby's already engaged in the pelvis with an estimated weight of 2.4 kg, much smaller than Nuaim was at that stage, but a good 600g up from the previous two weeks. A week later, the weight hasn't changed but my cervix has already dilated by 1 cm, probably due to the fact that I've been here, there and everywhere, much to the distress of everyone else around me.
Today, despite my resolve to work right up to 'Labour Day', I've decided to stay at home. Correction - Hubby decided I should stay at home and get some rest, so like the good wife I agreed to do his bidding.
It doesn't stop my mind from going into hyperdrive though.
I've realised that lately my body is having a really tough time catching up with my brain, especially with so much mental stimulation on offer. Which is probably the thing that lead me to this state of lethargy.
First of course, there was the yearly appraisal that gripped everyone in high fever. Everyone knows it takes no small amount of brainpower and creativity to make the most mundane task read like a really crucial contribution to the company's growth, just to ensure you get that extra salary increment and performance bonus. Never mind that it causes the real value-adding/ profit-making work to come to a standstill for the whole month of March. Finding the right balance between having multiple objectives (to make it look like you did a lot of work, therefore are indispensible) and having delivered a really outstanding job (after all, too many mediocre results ain't gonna get you an overall rating of 'Exceeding Expectations' in the end) is something I'm still trying to figure out, even after 4 review cycles. The thing is I'm proud of the little short-term things that I did, because I think I did them very well, whereas the longer-term jobs was just a matter of going through the motions for me. Although some may argue that my motions are better than most in my current grade. The only reason of course being that with the new job grade structure, despite two fast-track promotions in the past, I am now no different from a junior engineer who's only left uni a year ago.
Then there was the Project Managers' Forum at Marriott Putrajaya last week. I had already planned since a month ago to attend the Forum, partly via some encouragement from a very senior person who had roped me in to help prepare some speeches for the VIP's (now I know what Rob Lowe's character in 'The West Wing' feels like), and partly because I knew the project wouldn't mind me being absent for a few days, since most if not all my deliverables were already completed. Besides, you don't always get to stay in a really posh hotel on company expenses. What happened in the end though, was that I actually had to stay attentive throughout the Forum to jot down the important points of several speeches and presentations, to be compiled into some report.
Okaylah, whatever.
Anyway, in the week leading up to the Forum, I was assigned at the very last minute to the Technical Evaluation team for a package that I'm not entirely familiar with. Yeah, yeah, I know I helped to write the Evaluation criteria, but that was only because I was standing in for my LE at the time (and I made sure this was recorded in my appraisal) and my colleague who prepared the specs was overburdened with other work. In the end I don't know if my evaluation actually bears any great impact to who gets the job. It still wasn't finished when I left for Putrajaya, and I still have a couple of bids to look at. Plus the evaluation actually takes place in Tower 1.
As I was rushing across the skybridge on Friday 17th, I received an e-mail asking me to be in Subang Jaya for some sort of Management Offsite Session right after the Forum, subject 'to the (Company) President's final approval.' What? I may have to rush from Putrajaya to the other side of town, and you can't even decide whether you really need me to go or not? Add to that, my appraisal form had to be finalised by the very same day, and I was still chasing former Project Managers for a performance rating.
Fortunately, said PM also attended the Forum, so after a so-called 'Networking Dinner' where I sat with all-too-familiar faces, I was able to finalise the appraisal and send it off to the office via Hubby who consented to playing 'Mat Despatch'. Of course, this was after a Saturday which was half-spent playing a waiting game at the hospital for a 10-minute check-up, and ended with a visit to see a relative in Kajang who had to be hospitalised a week before her sister's engagement; and a Sunday when I wanted to relax but for Nuaim who, for some strange reason, stayed awake throughout the day despite waking up at 7 a.m, a Tumble Tots session at 10.30 and a swim around 4 pm after checking in at the Marriott. By Maghrib I was almost screaming my head off for Hubby to take him back to Mak's house like we planned, just so I didn't have to keep picking him up whenever he fell off the armchair after an attempt to play Superman. Hubby, of course, believes in letting Nuaim fall from high places so that he'll learn from consequences. What gives him that idea I'll never know, as he himself has never learnt to put on the seat belt or drive within the speed limit despite the numerous traffic summonses.
Anyway, the Forum itself was very good, there were some really amazing speakers (and even more brilliant session chairmen) but the hotel, I feel, has slackened somewhat.
I received the call on Monday evening confirming my selection for this Offsite workshop in Subang, and please can you attend the briefing on Tuesday afternoon? I tell them, in the politest way possible, that this was impossible, but that I'll see them on Wednesday morning instead since the session itself only starts on Wednesday afternoon.
So I did get to go home on Tuesday night, and despite my best intentions to make it to the office on Wednesday morning just to see how things were getting along without me, I decided to stay back home till 10 a.m. when I had to go off to the Saujana Resort in Subang.
Right, next is the Workshop. My mystery disappearance from the office that led everyone to thinking I had already started my maternity leave. For some reason I feel the need to write down every little detail of what happened while not disclosing several confidential issues, so bear with me. Or stop reading right now. But this is almost one week's worth of blogging so it's a very long post. Oh sod it, I'll just keep it as another entry.
Sunday, 12 March 2006
The Glass is Half Full
Despite the company about to close and everyone around me being apprehensive about where they're all going, I can't help but feel optimistic about the future. Sure, people are reminiscing about the good old days, the friendships (and marriages) that have been formed along the way - and there is that sad feeling of course that everything you've worked for and dreamed of is not exactly working out the way you wanted it to be. But there's a great big world out there, even within the Group corporate structure, that's offering so many different opportunities. It's just a matter of looking at all the options available, and choosing which one suits you and your circumstances best.
Besides, after moaning and raging for the first few weeks, it is time to move on. One doesn't really expect to stay in the same place for years. But then again, a lot of senior people in the company have been there since day one about 13 years ago, so maybe that speaks for something. I suppose it was the nature of the job - being project-oriented, the work takes you to different places, working with different people (sometimes different nationalities) and of course there is always the outstation allowance that is so, so desirable to everyone else on the outside looking in.
But it's never been about the money for me (haha, I may be singing a different tune when I end up in Kerteh or Bintulu without that extra RM4000 a month), but always the experience of meeting people and learning something new every day. And that's something that's being offered to me on a plate at this moment.
So what's left to do? Carpe diem!
Besides, after moaning and raging for the first few weeks, it is time to move on. One doesn't really expect to stay in the same place for years. But then again, a lot of senior people in the company have been there since day one about 13 years ago, so maybe that speaks for something. I suppose it was the nature of the job - being project-oriented, the work takes you to different places, working with different people (sometimes different nationalities) and of course there is always the outstation allowance that is so, so desirable to everyone else on the outside looking in.
But it's never been about the money for me (haha, I may be singing a different tune when I end up in Kerteh or Bintulu without that extra RM4000 a month), but always the experience of meeting people and learning something new every day. And that's something that's being offered to me on a plate at this moment.
So what's left to do? Carpe diem!
Friday, 10 March 2006
Blogger's block
Bored. And boring.
I'm trying to recall what actually inspired me to start blogging. I love reading other people's blogs - some are funny and witty, others poignant. Some blogs help me keep in touch with friends who are far and away beyond the shores of Malaysia. Like novels, when I read something good, I feel an urge to write too, hoping that, without imitating the style, I can be as funny or witty or emotionally engaging as these bloggers who get 30+ comments to a post.
But, I have to admit, I'm a lame writer. Most of what I write are everyday, mundane things that don't really affect anyone else but me. The only reason I use the Web instead of a handwritten journal is because I'm so used to typing that penmanship tires me out (plus my handwriting has gone from mediocre to illegible). And even if the subject matter does have a larger impact, other people have written about it in a bigger and better way. So maybe I'm just one of those people who are taking up much-needed cyberspace that could be put to better use serving the community or generating some business.
I suppose blogging is just a manner of keeping a journal for me, albeit it's no longer private as I don't hide behind a pseudonym or alter-ego. It's also a way to let my friends know what's happening - some of them complain that it's so difficult to keep track of where I am. The only glitch there is that I need to be at a place where I have internet access, and the space and time to blog in the first place. Which is why a 3G device like the Dopod 900 was so appealing I almost splurged RM4000. The idea of being able to write about anything anywhere anytime (as long as there is 3G connectivity la, which apparently is still lacking in Alor Star) is really attractive, especially when my blogging ideas only come forth when I'm in the car, or lying in bed, or am just too tired to drag myself to the nearest PC. And I'm sure I've blogged about this Dopod thingy before, which makes my blogging even more boring than ever - the fact that I'm rehashing blogging ideas.
But using my real name has its cons. For one, there are some things that I really need to vent out which I can't do on these posts because they are also intensely private, or may affect someone close to me. No man is an island, they say. You are someone else's child, spouse, parent, a company employee, a boss or all of the above. Privacy is something you sacrifice, unless you intend to keep two separate blogs for different readers and purposes.
Have a good weekend, people!
I'm trying to recall what actually inspired me to start blogging. I love reading other people's blogs - some are funny and witty, others poignant. Some blogs help me keep in touch with friends who are far and away beyond the shores of Malaysia. Like novels, when I read something good, I feel an urge to write too, hoping that, without imitating the style, I can be as funny or witty or emotionally engaging as these bloggers who get 30+ comments to a post.
But, I have to admit, I'm a lame writer. Most of what I write are everyday, mundane things that don't really affect anyone else but me. The only reason I use the Web instead of a handwritten journal is because I'm so used to typing that penmanship tires me out (plus my handwriting has gone from mediocre to illegible). And even if the subject matter does have a larger impact, other people have written about it in a bigger and better way. So maybe I'm just one of those people who are taking up much-needed cyberspace that could be put to better use serving the community or generating some business.
I suppose blogging is just a manner of keeping a journal for me, albeit it's no longer private as I don't hide behind a pseudonym or alter-ego. It's also a way to let my friends know what's happening - some of them complain that it's so difficult to keep track of where I am. The only glitch there is that I need to be at a place where I have internet access, and the space and time to blog in the first place. Which is why a 3G device like the Dopod 900 was so appealing I almost splurged RM4000. The idea of being able to write about anything anywhere anytime (as long as there is 3G connectivity la, which apparently is still lacking in Alor Star) is really attractive, especially when my blogging ideas only come forth when I'm in the car, or lying in bed, or am just too tired to drag myself to the nearest PC. And I'm sure I've blogged about this Dopod thingy before, which makes my blogging even more boring than ever - the fact that I'm rehashing blogging ideas.
But using my real name has its cons. For one, there are some things that I really need to vent out which I can't do on these posts because they are also intensely private, or may affect someone close to me. No man is an island, they say. You are someone else's child, spouse, parent, a company employee, a boss or all of the above. Privacy is something you sacrifice, unless you intend to keep two separate blogs for different readers and purposes.
Have a good weekend, people!
Thursday, 9 March 2006
Champions' League Cheer
ARSENAL ARE THROUGH - and CHELSEA AREN'T!!!
Okay, it's been a very long time since I've watched English or European football on TV or anywhere else, and I don't recognise half the team anymore, but I still love it when Arsenal do well. I know my team is doing badly in the domestic league, but maybe, just maybe this is the year for European glory. We can all dream, can't we?
Tuesday, 7 March 2006
Oscar Red Carpet
The Oscars came and went without much excitement in my household. That's probably because I have not watched any of the movies nominated for the Awards, except 'Narnia' on a VCD with horrendous subtitles. Oh yes, there was also Kiera Knightley's 'Pride and Prejudice', which I did see at the cinema, but I'd definitely need to get my hands on a pirate copy to watch some of the Best Picture nominees. Even then, it's probably something I can only stomach after I give birth in April, as per Ain's recommendation upon watching 'Munich'.
I'd already checked out the results in the afternoon via Internet at the office, so the only motivation for watching the repeat show last night was to gape at the dresses and jewellery. The Red Carpet segment came on Astro at 9 pm, and I was watching it with Mak while waiting for Hubby to come back from Isyak prayers at the mosque (I know, such 'hedonistic' pursuits while my other half communes with God). We were admiring Naomi Watts' dress when she was asked how long it took to put the whole thing together and she replied, "Oh, a few hours, with a bit of stitching here and there."
Mak's response to that was, "What if she needs to pee?"
Maybe they stitch in a super-absorbent scented adult diaper in as well.
I'd already checked out the results in the afternoon via Internet at the office, so the only motivation for watching the repeat show last night was to gape at the dresses and jewellery. The Red Carpet segment came on Astro at 9 pm, and I was watching it with Mak while waiting for Hubby to come back from Isyak prayers at the mosque (I know, such 'hedonistic' pursuits while my other half communes with God). We were admiring Naomi Watts' dress when she was asked how long it took to put the whole thing together and she replied, "Oh, a few hours, with a bit of stitching here and there."
Mak's response to that was, "What if she needs to pee?"
Maybe they stitch in a super-absorbent scented adult diaper in as well.
Monday, 6 March 2006
LRT Laments
Reading this post on Ubi's blog reminded me of one time I took the LRT when I was pregnant with Nuaim. The carriage was quite full, being after-office peak hours and all, so no seats were available. I stood facing a not-so-young but still healthy looking man, my big tummy almost invading his personal space. Standing next to me was a young lady. After a couple of minutes, still no one offered me a seat, and I was resigned to having to stand all the way back to Kelana Jaya when the lady next to me addressed the man in a clear voice, "Uncle, this lady is pregnant."
Everyone must've heard her, so the guy sheepishly got off his seat and offered it to me.
But seriously, it's amazing how after all these years, we still have not figured out who should give up their seats to whom. Despite the 'Budi Bahasa Budaya Kita' campaigns on TV, which showcased a guy pretending to be asleep when an old woman, a pregnant lady and a blind man in turn embarked on the LRT, there are still people who blissfully ignore the sign above their heads that say 'Arent' We a Courteous Lot?'.
When I was studying in the UK, men would readily give up their seats to women, irrespective of whether she is pregnant, old, handicapped, carrying children/heavy bags or not. That's what they call chivalry, and it's not old-fashioned. In KL, it's a whole different world. Sometimes, I see a young couple sitting together, and I'm tempted to say to him that the way to a girl's heart is to act the chivalrous knight and offer pregnant me your seat. I don't know about the rest of the world, but I'd be mightily impressed with my guy if he did that. Hang on, if he didn't do that in the first place, he wouldn't be my guy at all.
Same goes with being courteous and polite to waiters/waitresses, cashiers and even public toilet cleaners. Of course it's their job to do all that stuff, and they do get paid, but there's nothing wrong with giving them a smile and a 'thank you' once in a while, is there?
One of my pet peeves is seeing people pay for stuff with their credit cards without even facing the cashier, as if it was beneath him/her to even lay eyes on the person working at the counter. If you're some rich Tan Sri's offspring with unlimited credit limit that's a different story, but most of the time the payer is just an ordinary Joe (in one real-life observation, the payer was a university student surviving on a $400 monthly overdraft facility). There's no need to behave so arrogantly - who knows, the person behind the cashier might be another university student like you, only working part-time, so at least he doesn't have to worry about paying off his monthly overdraft.
Everyone must've heard her, so the guy sheepishly got off his seat and offered it to me.
But seriously, it's amazing how after all these years, we still have not figured out who should give up their seats to whom. Despite the 'Budi Bahasa Budaya Kita' campaigns on TV, which showcased a guy pretending to be asleep when an old woman, a pregnant lady and a blind man in turn embarked on the LRT, there are still people who blissfully ignore the sign above their heads that say 'Arent' We a Courteous Lot?'.
When I was studying in the UK, men would readily give up their seats to women, irrespective of whether she is pregnant, old, handicapped, carrying children/heavy bags or not. That's what they call chivalry, and it's not old-fashioned. In KL, it's a whole different world. Sometimes, I see a young couple sitting together, and I'm tempted to say to him that the way to a girl's heart is to act the chivalrous knight and offer pregnant me your seat. I don't know about the rest of the world, but I'd be mightily impressed with my guy if he did that. Hang on, if he didn't do that in the first place, he wouldn't be my guy at all.
Same goes with being courteous and polite to waiters/waitresses, cashiers and even public toilet cleaners. Of course it's their job to do all that stuff, and they do get paid, but there's nothing wrong with giving them a smile and a 'thank you' once in a while, is there?
One of my pet peeves is seeing people pay for stuff with their credit cards without even facing the cashier, as if it was beneath him/her to even lay eyes on the person working at the counter. If you're some rich Tan Sri's offspring with unlimited credit limit that's a different story, but most of the time the payer is just an ordinary Joe (in one real-life observation, the payer was a university student surviving on a $400 monthly overdraft facility). There's no need to behave so arrogantly - who knows, the person behind the cashier might be another university student like you, only working part-time, so at least he doesn't have to worry about paying off his monthly overdraft.
Saturday, 25 February 2006
Change is Inevitable
A couple of weeks ago, I heard about some major drastic changes happening in my company.
Well, the official briefing finally took place about two weeks ago, on a fine Thursday afternoon at a five star hotel not 5 minutes away from the office (whatever the news, they never fail to have it somewhere classy). It started with a very short and quick explanation of a study that was performed at the Group's Corporate Level, and the result was that:
Well, the official briefing finally took place about two weeks ago, on a fine Thursday afternoon at a five star hotel not 5 minutes away from the office (whatever the news, they never fail to have it somewhere classy). It started with a very short and quick explanation of a study that was performed at the Group's Corporate Level, and the result was that:
- There'll be a new Research & Technology Division, with new units and subsidiaries.
- My company will be part of this division
- My company will exist only as a legal entity and not a live, breathing organisation. In other words, we're closing down.
That session was quickly followed by a presentation to show what would happen to our staff, and a session for all those 'steaming, burning questions'. This, I suppose, was the most long-awaited part of the briefing.
I had a lot of 'steaming, burning questions' myself. For one, I didn't quite get how they arrived at the conclusion that my company was no longer needed and would have to be scrapped, to be replaced by something that we've always been aspiring to be in the first place. I mean, there didn't seem to be any representative from the company in the study to defend our position. Did they even take into account that we were going through a sort of internal Transformation programme to make ourselves bigger and better? Did they consider other ways of dealing with the situation?
I didn't ask anything about the study because no one else seemed interested to know. At least, not during the Q&A session, although there were a lot of corridor talk later. Hmmm, mindset and behaviour still not changed, I suppose. Besides, it would have been for a purely academic reason. The decision has been made, nothing can change that. We can argue all sorts of angles but it would be just a waste of precious time when everyone seemed more concerned with their own future. If the briefing was held immediately after we all found out when we shouldn't have, it would probably have been a different atmosphere, a more emotional session. I had actually pictured myself ranting and raving with tears down my face, but three weeks on (including a week-long break) had rationalised everyone.
Everyone (including me) asked question centred around one theme, namely "What happens to me now?" As it turned out, even the questions that were asked didn't get a clear enough answer. I suppose there's no concrete plan yet, and having to deal with 900 employees (although almost two-thirds are not permanent staff and could be easily, coldly dismissed) of various situations is no easy feat.
My position seems secure, for now, but the company (or the 'Staff Re-deployment Task Force', to be more appropriate) could decide to just pull everyone out of the project before we complete it in 2009.
We'll just have to wait and see...
Sunday, 19 February 2006
Hush Little Baby...
Reading a book always puts me in a certain mood for writing. When I finished reading Vikram Seth's 'A Suitable Boy' three weeks after my third year finals, I was convinced that I should become a writer instead of an engineer. His style made it look so easy. I remember sitting in a train and describing the things happening around me, as if to set the background of the first chapter of my first great novel, but after 5 pages of just droning on about the engine and the passengers I realised my non-existent plot was nowhere near a short story for a school magazine, let alone the next Booker Prize.
I had borrowed Tash Aw's 'Harmony Silk Factory' from my youngest sister about a week ago. The first part of the book didn't particularly strike me as anything special - the narrative was simple, telling the story of Johnny Lim through the somewhat prejudiced viewpoint of his son, despite the fact that most of the events took place before his birth. It took me almost a week to finish it. When I started to read the second part, though, I began to see the brilliance associated with this first-time novelist. It's amazing how he is able to change his writing style, especially when you consider that the second narrative is the journal of Johnny Lim's wife, and you get to see Johnny in a totally different light. I was able to read the second and third parts of the book in less than 2 days (the fact that it's the weekend may have helped). One part of the book affected me deeply in particular - when Peter Wormwood sees Johnny cradling his sleeping two-year-old son at the train station. This was at the end of the book, which I had read about an hour ago, and which is partly why I am still awake at 1 a.m.
Descriptions of young children often get me into a really emotional state. When I read that passage, I pictured Nuaim as Jasper, his long lashes softly caressing his lower eyelids in sleep. Then when Jasper wakes up, I see Nuaim standing there, holding on as he looks around him, his right eye squinting against the bright light as he is wont to do before he groggily lays his head back onto the shoulders of whoever happens to be carrying him at the time. When I went to bed, I found Nuaim asleep, his arm thrown around Hubby's neck as their heads rest on the same pillow. Somehow, tonight I do not want to put him alone in his cot. Let him share the bed with us, his parents - he'd make his way in at some point anyway, like he does every night. As I tuck myself in, rearranging the pillows to make myself comfortable, I find myself engulfed by the strangest feeling, as if I was about to lose something precious and most dear to me. I realise, as the tears started streaming down my face, that it was Nuaim I was crying for.
It's silly really. I mean, he's not going anywhere at the moment, is he? He's just lying there on his stomach, occasionally murmuring something in his sleep as his chubby hands search for the corners of the pillowcase. Maybe it's because of the pregnancy, although I know that it's the same feeling I had when Nuaim was first introduced to the bottle at the age of three weeks, because apparently I couldn't produce enough breastmilk to satiate his hunger. At that time I knew that I had lost exclusive feeding rights to him, that I could no longer claim him all to myself, that he was no longer solely dependent on me for care and comfort. In public I'd jokingly complain about how he never wants to leave my side, always clinging on to my breast like some desperate lover, but secretly I revelled in the closeness, the bond that exists when your child draws succour from your own body. And yet even as I rejoiced at his development, his growth as he found his feet at 11 months and could walk, then run and climb, I dreaded the day when his feet would take him away from me, his newfound independence releasing him from my smothering embrace.
I suppose I am feeling guilty for not paying much attention to him earlier today (yesterday?). Hubby had gone to KL for a whole-day 'Kursus Pengurusan Jenazah', so he dropped us off at Mak's house in the morning. Mak was going for an overnight trip to Johor with her friend for a wedding, and I wanted to go pick up my repaired brooches and buy some toiletries at Jaya Jusco, so we left together. My brother dropped Mak off at her friend's in Subang Jaya, then sent me to One Utama before heading off to Taman Tun to run a few errands. I spent two hours at the shopping centre, alone, before my legs felt tired and my head started to feel heavy. By the time I got home, it was time for lunch and Nuaim was asleep. I spent the rest of the day watching TV and finishing the book, and Nuaim was left in the company of the maids. I know it was selfish of me, but I felt I deserved some 'me' time. Besides, I stil have a whole day tomorrow (or is it today now?) to spend with him, and I do need my rest, which is difficult to get with Nuaim.
And yet here I am, lamenting how my private moments with my firstborn have swiftly gone by, to be replaced soon with the arrival of another baby, with whom I shall be recreating scenes of crying fits and diaper changes throughout sleepless nights. Will I sing the same songs I used to sing to Nuaim in my attempts to cajole him to catch few winks? Will I still whisper the same words of advice, hoping he'll grow up to become a good Muslim, obedient to his parents, the way I did that one night during confinement when Nuaim just would not stop crying and ended up putting both Hubby and me in a terrible mood? Will I count his fingers in the same four languages as I did when Nuaim used to suck contented from my bosom? And what will Nuaim feel when he sees this new baby in my arms?
Or will I keep these memories only for Nuaim and myself, refusing to share them even with his sibling(s), instead creating new memories with different songs, different toys and different tactics (I'm still stuck with the ability to count in only four languages, and only from 1 to 10), even assigning different caregivers?
The tears have not stopped. But for tonight a least, I shall hold him tight in my arms and not let go.
I had borrowed Tash Aw's 'Harmony Silk Factory' from my youngest sister about a week ago. The first part of the book didn't particularly strike me as anything special - the narrative was simple, telling the story of Johnny Lim through the somewhat prejudiced viewpoint of his son, despite the fact that most of the events took place before his birth. It took me almost a week to finish it. When I started to read the second part, though, I began to see the brilliance associated with this first-time novelist. It's amazing how he is able to change his writing style, especially when you consider that the second narrative is the journal of Johnny Lim's wife, and you get to see Johnny in a totally different light. I was able to read the second and third parts of the book in less than 2 days (the fact that it's the weekend may have helped). One part of the book affected me deeply in particular - when Peter Wormwood sees Johnny cradling his sleeping two-year-old son at the train station. This was at the end of the book, which I had read about an hour ago, and which is partly why I am still awake at 1 a.m.
Descriptions of young children often get me into a really emotional state. When I read that passage, I pictured Nuaim as Jasper, his long lashes softly caressing his lower eyelids in sleep. Then when Jasper wakes up, I see Nuaim standing there, holding on as he looks around him, his right eye squinting against the bright light as he is wont to do before he groggily lays his head back onto the shoulders of whoever happens to be carrying him at the time. When I went to bed, I found Nuaim asleep, his arm thrown around Hubby's neck as their heads rest on the same pillow. Somehow, tonight I do not want to put him alone in his cot. Let him share the bed with us, his parents - he'd make his way in at some point anyway, like he does every night. As I tuck myself in, rearranging the pillows to make myself comfortable, I find myself engulfed by the strangest feeling, as if I was about to lose something precious and most dear to me. I realise, as the tears started streaming down my face, that it was Nuaim I was crying for.
It's silly really. I mean, he's not going anywhere at the moment, is he? He's just lying there on his stomach, occasionally murmuring something in his sleep as his chubby hands search for the corners of the pillowcase. Maybe it's because of the pregnancy, although I know that it's the same feeling I had when Nuaim was first introduced to the bottle at the age of three weeks, because apparently I couldn't produce enough breastmilk to satiate his hunger. At that time I knew that I had lost exclusive feeding rights to him, that I could no longer claim him all to myself, that he was no longer solely dependent on me for care and comfort. In public I'd jokingly complain about how he never wants to leave my side, always clinging on to my breast like some desperate lover, but secretly I revelled in the closeness, the bond that exists when your child draws succour from your own body. And yet even as I rejoiced at his development, his growth as he found his feet at 11 months and could walk, then run and climb, I dreaded the day when his feet would take him away from me, his newfound independence releasing him from my smothering embrace.
I suppose I am feeling guilty for not paying much attention to him earlier today (yesterday?). Hubby had gone to KL for a whole-day 'Kursus Pengurusan Jenazah', so he dropped us off at Mak's house in the morning. Mak was going for an overnight trip to Johor with her friend for a wedding, and I wanted to go pick up my repaired brooches and buy some toiletries at Jaya Jusco, so we left together. My brother dropped Mak off at her friend's in Subang Jaya, then sent me to One Utama before heading off to Taman Tun to run a few errands. I spent two hours at the shopping centre, alone, before my legs felt tired and my head started to feel heavy. By the time I got home, it was time for lunch and Nuaim was asleep. I spent the rest of the day watching TV and finishing the book, and Nuaim was left in the company of the maids. I know it was selfish of me, but I felt I deserved some 'me' time. Besides, I stil have a whole day tomorrow (or is it today now?) to spend with him, and I do need my rest, which is difficult to get with Nuaim.
And yet here I am, lamenting how my private moments with my firstborn have swiftly gone by, to be replaced soon with the arrival of another baby, with whom I shall be recreating scenes of crying fits and diaper changes throughout sleepless nights. Will I sing the same songs I used to sing to Nuaim in my attempts to cajole him to catch few winks? Will I still whisper the same words of advice, hoping he'll grow up to become a good Muslim, obedient to his parents, the way I did that one night during confinement when Nuaim just would not stop crying and ended up putting both Hubby and me in a terrible mood? Will I count his fingers in the same four languages as I did when Nuaim used to suck contented from my bosom? And what will Nuaim feel when he sees this new baby in my arms?
Or will I keep these memories only for Nuaim and myself, refusing to share them even with his sibling(s), instead creating new memories with different songs, different toys and different tactics (I'm still stuck with the ability to count in only four languages, and only from 1 to 10), even assigning different caregivers?
The tears have not stopped. But for tonight a least, I shall hold him tight in my arms and not let go.
Wednesday, 15 February 2006
Temporarily Empty Nest
It had rained yesterday afternoon, and I had had an after-work appointment with an insurance consultant who was going like a bullet train, she gave me such a hard time to interject and ask questions (is this common to all insurance consultants/ sales people in general?). Anyway, by the time we reached Mak's house, it was just in time for Maghrib and dinner.
It was Mak's turn to have a 'Kutu' gathering yesterday, which usually means lots of good stuff to eat. As it turned out, the menu was 'Nasi Dagang Terengganu' (the beras pulut version) with kerutuk ayam, gulai udang and gulai ikan tongkol. There was also pengat pisang for dessert. I would have also sampled the rojak pasembor, but by then it had gone off a bit so I'll have to satisfy my craving for it some other day.
Anyway, after a satisfying meal, Maghrib prayers and generally just lounging about (as anyone is wont to do when they go back to their parents' house), we decided to call it a night and head back home around 9 p.m. Nuaim, however, had other ideas. When I told him we were leaving, instead of heading towards the door as he normally does, he went to Mak instead, pushing me away and saying, "Bye Bye, Ummi!"
I thought he was just joking then, but when I told Hubby and we both called out to him, he just totally ignored us and started getting Mak to play Hide-and-Seek with him instead. Oh well, I thought, if you want to stay the night at your grandma's house it's fine with me. At least I'll be able to get a good night's sleep and my nipples would be spared from mutilation by a 20-month-old toddler's very sharp teeth (yes, at his age and my pregnancy, Nuaim still insists on being breastfed to sleep!).
As we drove into our carpark, Hubby commented, "It's so quiet."
By the time we were back in the condo, it was a relief to be able to totally relax and do the whole wash-tone-moisturise face-cleansing routine without Nuaim crying for attention, but only temporarily. Before long, we found ourselves filling the silence with anecdotes of Nuaim's amusing antics in the past few days.
So this is what it feels like when the children have left. And it was only for one night...
Oh, BTW, it's high time I put a picture of this little adorable monster on the blog. Maybe I'm biased, being his mother and all that, but you tell me, how can you resist such an angel?
It was Mak's turn to have a 'Kutu' gathering yesterday, which usually means lots of good stuff to eat. As it turned out, the menu was 'Nasi Dagang Terengganu' (the beras pulut version) with kerutuk ayam, gulai udang and gulai ikan tongkol. There was also pengat pisang for dessert. I would have also sampled the rojak pasembor, but by then it had gone off a bit so I'll have to satisfy my craving for it some other day.
Anyway, after a satisfying meal, Maghrib prayers and generally just lounging about (as anyone is wont to do when they go back to their parents' house), we decided to call it a night and head back home around 9 p.m. Nuaim, however, had other ideas. When I told him we were leaving, instead of heading towards the door as he normally does, he went to Mak instead, pushing me away and saying, "Bye Bye, Ummi!"
I thought he was just joking then, but when I told Hubby and we both called out to him, he just totally ignored us and started getting Mak to play Hide-and-Seek with him instead. Oh well, I thought, if you want to stay the night at your grandma's house it's fine with me. At least I'll be able to get a good night's sleep and my nipples would be spared from mutilation by a 20-month-old toddler's very sharp teeth (yes, at his age and my pregnancy, Nuaim still insists on being breastfed to sleep!).
As we drove into our carpark, Hubby commented, "It's so quiet."
By the time we were back in the condo, it was a relief to be able to totally relax and do the whole wash-tone-moisturise face-cleansing routine without Nuaim crying for attention, but only temporarily. Before long, we found ourselves filling the silence with anecdotes of Nuaim's amusing antics in the past few days.
So this is what it feels like when the children have left. And it was only for one night...
Oh, BTW, it's high time I put a picture of this little adorable monster on the blog. Maybe I'm biased, being his mother and all that, but you tell me, how can you resist such an angel?
