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Wednesday, March 08, 2006

Meet the blogger

I attended my first bloggers’ meet last Saturday. Simple, right?
Right, but not entirely.

It was arranged as a farewell lunch for pinat, a blogger I hooked up with just recently, as a result of a curious click on nurul’s blogroll. How did I know Dr. Nurul in the first place? Through Chen of course. What about Dr. Chen?
From foodies and Sarawakian blogs obviously.

What about them? Oh well, you know how it goes. Bloggers have blogrolls and link up their comments so they can grow in circles and eventually merge as a great big colon full of crap colony of diverse cultures, backgrounds and issues.

Anyway, back to the meet, coz I can hear a few foreheads hitting the table already.

I was excited about Saturday’s lunch at Laksa Shack, Sunway Pyramid, since it marks my first hand, foot and mouth experience of the blogosphere materialization

I made sure I had enough sleep, woke up early to get there in time, feeling fresh and perky. Lunch at 12.30 pm, that was the plan, and I wasn’t about to screw up a first impression. Something nurul figured was done out of sheer discipline. Discipline? Sorry to break your beaker Nurul, but I left mine in high school.

I spotted the venue five minutes early, just enough time to grab a pretzel from Auntie Anne’s.

What…?

Hey, I needed the plastic bag to carry my bulky Olympus mju 300 okay. It creates a misleading bulge in my jeans’ pocket.

Standing outside Laksa Shack I munched pieces of the pretzel as I scanned the people passing by. I glanced inside and saw several groups of people engaged in delightful conversations over lunch.

“Hmmm, I’m not late am I? The notice did say 12.30pm and those people looked like they’ve been there since 11.30 am. They couldn’t have started before everyone arrived, not without me at least” I thought.

So I stood guard at one side and continued chewing, looking out for people who are looking out for, people. Like a cow, I attempted a casual look to blend in.

I was also glancing at my mobile every other second, expecting a call from any of the organizers, Zuhri or Nurul, since I gave them my number without any exchange. I don’t normally use the vibrator, especially in anticipation, because the sudden tremor below the waist will definitely make me gasp and twitch like C-3PO.

Then I saw a slim figure sporting a familiar face. Is there a doctor in the house already? I took a closer look as she came nearer. She looked like she’s looking for someone or a group of people. I looked away as soon as I sensed her looking my way. It was like a game of espionage. I’m sure she spotted me but was reluctant to approach.

How was I to be a gentleman approaching without getting a smack? I wondered and decided to wait. Yeah, such a gentleman.

She walked pass me and I saw her walking away, still indicating a thorough scan over her surrounding. I looked away again to avoid her glimpse. Heck! What was I doing? I felt like an ostrich burying my head in the sand. This made me smile awkwardly. I struggled to wipe the smirk off my face for fear of looking like a complete mental.

Suddenly the phone rang. “This must be Zuhri” I thought.

“Hello, Agus is it?” a woman asked and I guessed it was Nurul.

“Yes” I confirmed and she continued “I’m Nurul. Are you at Laksa Shack?”

“Yes I am” I replied and she went “I knew I saw you! There! At the entrance!”

“Yup! And I think I saw you walk by too. Well, I’ll be right here then” I hung up and she appeared in front of me.

“I…, I thought I saw you went there(pointing to the left). How, how did you get in front of me that quick?” I asked.

Note to self: You buried you head in the sand, remember?

“Yeah, well…” she paused.

“Oh, you must have walked behind those booths there” I explained to myself out loud, my hand making a circular sweep of the space.

So there we stood, both of us, as we asked quick questions of ‘did you come alone?’, ‘from where and what time did you set off?’, ‘where did you parked?’ and ‘who else is coming?’; you know, the usual questions to break the uncomfortable silence.

The most amusing part of this small talk session was when Nurul said,
“I knew I saw you but I couldn’t convince myself. I saw your picture in your post, the one about your out-of-body experience; you look bigger there, standing beside your friend. So big. I didn’t expect to see you about this size now…small…”

“Hahaaa…well, you saw all 85 kilograms of me then. Now I’m 65. So, you know, I’m smaller now.” And I gave several bursts of giggles. That never gets old!

However, as uplifting as it felt, this kinda made me miss how people used to be impressed with how big I was (and have grown) back then. The bewildered look on old friends’ faces when they scrutinize my shoulders, chest and sometimes, the sturdy wagon I drag behind.

But knowing that I wasn’t horizontally proportional to my height, and all that confidence was actually false hope built on fat, makes me go “Oh lardy!”.

Sorry, I slipped over some grease again.

Moving on.

After a while came Zuhri, accompanied by his wife and 7 year old son, Adiputra. We exchanged introductions and proceeded into the shop. There we exchanged more icebreakers and small talks.

Then came the celebrated Pinat and family. Her daughter was a little cranky at first because she was rudely interupted during her afternoon slumber in the car. But she quickly got the feel and was soon the main attraction. We ordered drinks and got the talking.

Wegra arrived handing Zuhri’s new accessory, a flash for his new DSLR. I drooled.
We were complete at last so we ordered lunch. It was the longest lunch fueled by a bowl of different laksa each and a couple of drink refills.

The adults were having a ball chatting away but two kids became naturally restless. Pinat's daughter somehow saw what she wanted but no one could give. She saw people ice skating while having a round with daddy and decided she must go play with the ice skaters, sliding so swiftly on the glittering icy floor. Her cries were building up a scene but Wegra came to the rescue, performing child distraction tactics like a pro. Together with Zuhri's son who wanted to browse some toys, she single handedly carried the blues away, literally, and the adults were free to chat again. Someone said "Oh she's a natural isn't she..." The kids were happy to have her. Zuhri's son was drawn to her; like the kid magnet she is.

We continued chatting long after our table was cleared. Don’t ask me about the food unless you don’t mind probable death by utter bore.

I’m almost done here, anyway.

Strange event, this…when bloggers meet. All that seemed to come up initially had to do with our blogs. Well, what else would a blogger expect? The new particle found in an atom? How the Mesozoic era shaped the world history?

Odd as it may feel, that is precisely the thing that brought us together. And from there we take it further. We move on to more personal issues and in depth discoveries into each other’s somewhat public life. This is when we try to put the personality in place. Do they match the profile? Does every thing you’d expect of him/her fall into place? Does the blog reflect at least half the personality if not none?

Well, the answer lies within the person’s judgment and as it is with blogs, subject to an unlimited array of analytical paths and deductions(hint:tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine). Honesty is a luxurious option. The act (meeting up) may be simple but the conclusion is what ever you decide it to be. A path every blogger will face at least once.

For me, it was lovely.

Like I said, it’s that simple.

Thanks to Nurul and Wegra, the following picture is possible. The size reduced for a breezy download. Non skimmed and free from additives.


Clockwise from front left, Wegra, Agus, Zuhri with son and wife, Nurul, and Pinat with daughter and husband. Lovely.

Thanks to Zuhri for his consent. Now I just hope Pinat is okay with this one.

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