Motivation - Just like the doctor ordered

Serving Suggestion:
I’m a loser
A prologue to motivation
About life…and growth

Acknowledge
As I got heavier I started to experience multiple conditions that I simply brushed off as signs of growing older or just things I naturally picked up. When I do see them as indications of being overweight, I told myself that I was probably still in the growth process. It’s only natural to experience those things as you’re getting heavier. But who was I kidding? I knew about BMI and it sure was not ‘Being Miserably Ignorant’

Joints
I was finding it more tiresome to walk all day in the mall or stand for a long duration. I experienced fatigue and pain in my knees and ankles. The reason was very clear to me though; I was heavy and my joints simply couldn’t carry me very far any longer. I knew I had to lose weight but believed something must be on it’s way to kick my butt guide me. And so I waited.

Sleep
I began to snore after months of employment. Initially they were soft noises and they sounded more like heavy breathing. So I was told. I concluded that it must be the stress and weariness from work but I reconsidered this excuse since that was hardly true. I then learned from others that my snoring had become louder and thought age has finally caught up with me. On sleepovers with some friends, one of the light sleepers woke me up several times to stop my snoring. I got an earful the next morning of course. Alas, I was a certified snorer, is there such word? Through time I discovered that I could in fact feel and hear myself snore. I would be awaken by a persistent noise and rattles in my throat. It was an exciting discovery which was proven each time I caught myself at the crime scene. Excited but not the least proud.

“Huh, what do you know, I can hear and feel myself snoring. Eureka…” I often said to myself, went back to sleep only to snore again - a vicious cycle if you ask me. I have read somewhere that being overweight could be the cause. So I told myself to do my best in losing weight and jump on the first solid opportunity that comes my way; if only I knew which way I was going. In the meantime, I continued snoring.

They say…
I have voiced my intentions to go on a diet for a million reasons and kind friends shared information, tips and the go-to people. A friend was swift and eager to dish out his philosophy on health and weight.
“It’s no joke man. When you’re overweight, you can bet that most of the illnesses out there is knocking on your door. Trust me, I’ve seen sufficient proofs of this. Heart diseases and failures, stroke, high blood pressure, and many more. You gotta get fit, like right now!” he urged.
I looked at him and kept this to myself, “easy for you to say, you’re all skin and bones with minimal flesh!”

As we stood there talking, images of the big bad wolf were sneaking through my mind. And he was beating on my door saying “I’ll huff, and I’ll puff and I’ll strike your heart down! Now open the door you great juicy pig!”

I shook the images off my head and thought “Must lose weight. Wolf is near. Must burn fat. Oink…” But unlike the smart pig, I locked the door and just waited.

Garments
It has also been difficult for me to find a pair of pants that doesn’t look ugly on me since my second year in university. Whenever there were bargain clothes for sale, I usually end up frustrated and jaded because there was no such size and the ones that did fit looked horrible. I could no longer wear jeans and the only comfort up my stubby legs were slacks and khakis.

And get this, I thought I caught the culture of wearing boxers and really felt it was a nice change that I actually forgot that the only reason I switched to boxers was because briefs were uncomfortably constricting. My behind was getting too big for comfort and boxers provided some breathing space up front. Talk about subliminal influences!

Also, because I’m vertically challenged, all the shirts I wore were too long and hung halfway through my thigh. I looked like I own a wardrobe of mostly pajamas.

Never mind looking good, I couldn’t even get decent looking clothes.

Self confidence
There’s the worry of tasteless style, and there’s the worry of tasteless persona. As if I didn’t have enough bad hair days to worry about, I was constantly aware of my physical state. A huge landmark is hard to miss.

Mirrors are evil I tell you. They would mercilessly tell you that you’ve gained so much. Sometimes I would walk quickly past a huge mirror and hope no one saw what I saw. There was not much space to save face either. Some people have faces which are totally disconnected from their system. They don’t look the weight. But scan down and you are tempted to ask when the baby is due. Me? I’m completely the opposite. Food seems to be processed right in my mouth and the extra energy is stored on my face, (after including various body parts). Imagine how monkeys eat. Like there’s an amplifier between my system and the structure of my face.

This may sound pathetic but I didn’t like the camera pointed at me. Like mirrors, they are equally evil. They seem to be programmed to exaggerate whatever unpleasant features we have. It’s still true today though.

What’s up doc?
I went to a health screening in June 2005 and it was a perfect way for me to gauge my condition.
“It should be a piece of cake. I may be fat but I could be as healthy. Just don’t repeat what I did three years ago” I thought.

What did I do the last screening?

Let’s see…

Well, I told the good doctor how I woke up at about 4 in the morning with a bloody ear and nose two years back in university, prior to my employment. The cause still puzzles me to this day and there were definite side effects. Upon hearing about the assumed side effects, he advised me to be cautious and get further examination. He was sympathetic that it was my first offshore job and that I must be very excited to join the company. Therefore he gave me a clean bill of health but advised me to reconsider or at least be mindful nonetheless. I showed him immense gratitude and quickly left before he changed his mind.

This time around, I was more prepared and expected a smooth session.
The first thing recorded was my weight and height. As I stepped onto the scale the middle aged nurse was surprised to see my actual weight.

“Well, well” she chuckled.
“Why, what’s wrong?” I asked quickly.
“Oh it’s nothing. I just thought you’d be lighter. You don’t look this heavy.” She explained.
So much for a good start.

Bummer! I was aware of my weight issue but I didn’t expect it to pop up even before the elaborate tests were done. That does it. When I get back from the holidays, I’ll be dieting. No if, ands or butts after the break.

Everything went smoothly, including the hairy ‘pants down’ instruction by the doctor. It could have easily turned out a complete disaster if I had a female examiner. The thought makes the hair behind my neck stand, among other things. Or worse, I could have met the anal probe or given the prostate examination.

Ok, I lied. It was a smooth ordeal. My first full frontal and I was mildly disturbed by the thought. But I decided to face it like a man, turned both chubby cheeks to the good doctor and gracefully bent over to pull my boxer back up, as ordered. He kept a good distance all the while. I walked out of the room unscathed.

“Ok, that’s it. We’re done. Please come back in two weeks for your result” the nurse said.
“Can I get it after three weeks? I’m off for a long vacation and will pick it up as soon as I come back” I asked
“Sure. Give us a call.”


Fiesta
I spent one week in Kapit Celebrating Gawai (not without incidents) and another week in Kuching celebrating the remaining fiesta. Food was everywhere and drinks flooded the village. Copious amount of calorie intake made me look like a blowfish. I was more determined to kick start my diet once I get back. I knew it would get harder with each bite but haggling was swift and temptation won every time.

Relatives often exclaimed how big I have grown and my dad would add ‘yup, a full grown pig’. I know that sounds horrible. Believe me, it felt so, but we’re used to his sarcasm for whatever reason and intention. I felt like saying “yeah, and that makes you the father of one” but remained silent.

I took it as an acknowledgement of my current state and as his hope that I can make something out of it. Incidentally, he did tell me to exercise because I didn’t exactly look proportional. Ah, family and the subtlety. And once, while I was sitting at the back seat of the van, I noticed his glance on the rear view mirror, smiled and said “like a bull”. My face went numb and I was silenced. Once again, I knew it was casual and carried no offense whatsoever. Oh but I took it with me alright. Boy did I have something to prove.

The screening result
I came back from my vacation all fired up and determined to burn the flab. I picked up the test result and the cover letter says it all.


Many solid reasons couldn’t make me start the program. After all this while, all it took was for a professional to slap it to me in black and white. Heck, I could have told myself that but noo, I needed to get it from the doctor himself. It took me about two months to tell my friends that I was medically obese because it was highly embarrassing and progress on my diet was slow. And only now I’m telling the world.

Funny huh, how different things wake you up. I know of some friends who actually got into a messy medical complication before they decided to lose weight. I also have many lady friends who used this strategy to fit snugly into their wedding dress. The general rule is ‘buy first, fit later’. Oh but it is true for the grooms as well. Guys, it is a sweet gesture.

Motivation is always around. Some people look for it, some people wait for it and some never see it coming. I always tell friends that no one should tell you to lose weight nor do they have the right to do so for no reason, especially when you are obviously happy with the way you are. The only person capable of making it work is yourself . No matter how strong the support can be made available, if the motivation doesn’t quite do it for you, you'd be better off enjoying life.

So if you’re fat and loving it, good. If you’re lean and also loving it, good.

Now pass the gravy please.

About life...and growth

Best served with A prologue to motivation

___________________________

So far I've been telling stories of how I look like growing up. I appreciate the attention and it is fair to show after I tell. So here is a series of images representing the periods of my early life. How growth seemed to have a mind of it's own. The earliest record that I have with me is when I was 14 years young. I'll have to dig the next time I go back home for younger images.

At 14, 1991

At 15. Chilling out with classmates (blurred due to concerns about owner's underage image issues)

At 16. Soccer match during Bintulu trip.

At 17. Bintulu trip for prefects

At18. Merdeka Square

At 19. Floating at Sunway Lagoon Theme Park

At 20. Just chilling with two of my sisters.

At 21. Group photo for Christmas Night

At 22. On graduation day for seniors.

At 23. On graduation day for seniors.

At 24, chilling out after a Christmas Carol

At 25

At 26

At 27, with my niece.

At 28

At 28, 2005

June 2005. Attending a tribal ceremony outside the longhouse. Thank God they handed out this large hat.

Before, Christmas 1999

After, June 2005

This was for weight overload but I hope you didn't get image overload. And you think you've seen the motivation. Well, that's only half of it.

A prologue to motivation

Continued from I'm a loser

Growing up, I was a very skinny little boy. Relatives would call me ‘anak batu’(meaning ‘son of a stone’) during family reunions since I didn’t seem to have grown last they checked. That made me shy. I usually wore a shirt because I didn’t want people to see my protruding bones, especially my scapula every time I scratched my back, and my ribs lest someone plays them like a solo guitar. I wished I could grow up faster and wondered if I would stay that way till I reach old age; then I looked at grandpa’s figure, the resemblance made me wonder no more.

My parents were baffled as well and sometimes during family dinners one would say ‘I don’t know where all that food goes to’ and the other one would acknowledge with a smile or a giggle.

I began to grow normally only half way through high school. The extra curricular activities kept me lean. I liked sports but could not excel since I lack the stamina to build the necessary skills. I’m just not a natural sportsman. Soccer was enjoyable but I couldn’t even last till half time. I picked up hockey and played for the school but never endured a full game. It was frustrating to learn that I was not born with stamina above the average. I mean, some friends were built like bulls! Even in elementary school.

When I entered university, sports was not part of the graduating criteria so naturally I was more than happy to drop the idea altogether. I did visit the campus gym occasionally.

I grew heavier than the average sportsperson but the hardships of living a poor student’s life kept my weight down, unnecessarily low at times, when it got really tough. My study loan approval took much longer than I had anticipated. Things turned out better toward the end fortunately, but I wouldn’t want to go back studying anytime soon. Even then I was always heavier than my best friend especially after a long break at home.

I started working as an engineer (70kg approx.) more than three years ago, and that was when I started to take shape, or rather, no shape. I slowly accumulated 10 kilos and remembered that being at a constant 80 wasn’t that bad. Each time I get off a scale I would say “well, what do you know, eighty last three months, still eighty now. Better constant than increasing! I rest my case”

And every time I got a kilo heavier I’d say “ah, what does a kilo really mean anyway”.

Besides, almost everyone who haven’t seen me for a while exclaimed “Whoa! Your growth is impressive! Do you work out?” or something equivalent. The sight of me caused a visual scan which sometimes leads to a physical scan of my shoulder and biceps; you know how guys size their comrades. I was huge but there was no reason for me to worry about my weight and I didn’t think BMI meant anything. The broad chest that I had usually passed as mostly muscle, muscles I knew were lined heavily (and cleverly deceiving) with fat cells.

But make no mistake, I kept the dream of being back to my prime state during high school years. Whenever I bought a slightly tight pair of pants out of error, I would say “oh well, I’ll just keep it and wear it when I lose weight”.
And a friend would giggle and say “Haha! Stop dreaming dude”

But I always had this to say, “Ah, you’ll never know my friend. You’ll never know”, and it seemed to echo forever.

I'm a loser...

I have been asked many times how I became a successful loser. Those in the know are left curious. Friends and families who weren’t nearby to witness the slow transformation are bewildered by the change. Some failed to recognize me at their front doors - it took them a moment to retrieve the familiar face they were used to, blubber and all.

Since then, I have been repeating my story and it basically came out the same. But every now and then I felt that I left some important facts inadvertently and as much as I wanted to share, I always strayed from the points.

It took me a while to decide how I should go about sharing my dirty little secret. I have been telling stories about my adventures like Gandalf to the little hobbits in Bilbo’s farewell party. The style and tone were different in each meeting; some would just listen, others would ask a series of questions and some wriggled and pleaded me to be their physical therapist. I wish I am, so I can work full time helping them lose weight. But that’s not the only scope of the job is it?

It is easier to discuss this weighty issue face to face but when it comes to communicating online, it’s another story. Interactivity is limited and I can only guess what my readers have to ask. It is my wish to convey as many information as I can, necessary or otherwise.

But first,

Disclaimer
The information contained herewith is offered in good faith. They may or may not be useful to everyone. This is by no means a complete and concise guide and I shall assume no liability to the losses suffered in connection to this post, including but not limited to the reader’s weight.


Moving on, this series of post is another channel for my purpose. What is my purpose again? Oh yeah, to describe what I did to lose weight, the things that made me do it, and the facts that kept me in it. But if I was able to do all that, I would probably be in an autograph signing session for my first published book on dieting wouldn’t I? What am I doing here?

Exactly! (to whatever your thoughts were )

So, if you have asked before, I will save your precious time to enable you to start your own program with these important points you could pick up. These are not orders and for those who haven’t asked, I appreciate your attention.

1. Get motivated. I don’t know how, just get there. There are a million and one reasons that you might have. But it all boils down to your weight and ultimately your health.

2. Do your homework. It doesn’t matter if you cheat. Just make sure you understand it.
Get your hands on anything you can find. With whatever means that you used, once you’ve found a good one, stick to it.

3. Invest. Reap what you sow. Need I say more? Hint: good scales – for you and your calorie intake. Handbooks and pocket guides. Magazines. Exercise machines and accessories. Gym fees.

4. Sacrifice. It’s not all good and nice. There is no such thing as free meals. In fact, they are the very culprits. There are foods that you must avoid for several weeks and some food can never be satisfying. Your research would have produced the details.

5. Change and adapt. There’s no abstract. It is clear that you need to be different and you know it. Be prepared to walk your own path, against the normal flow. Find healthier ways of going through your daily routines. Activate your lifestyle.

6. Have faith, get health. The time will come when you will face frustration and feel like giving up. Resist. Take a step backward, review and renew your program to suit your current physical state.

7. Enjoy your new life. Feel the refreshing drive. When you’re near your goal or reached it, soak in the glory and make it your undying motivation. Get fit and stay fit. After all, if you’ve done all of the above, you’d probably have got the hang of it and see that it wasn’t that hard.

Repeat after me ‘I have done it once, I can do it again’ and that’s not your license to slack.

Now you might think that all the above could not have possibly contributed to a successful weight loss program. It’s too general. There has to be more.

Well, you are right. Plus, there are just too many ways to fail; too many variables to account for.

However, bear in mind that I am not trained a physical therapist or a dietician. The list of seven merely describe the summary of my journey; how I would classify everything I did to have made it work. And of course, being my own editor, there are bound to be trash lying indiscriminately here and there.

So, if you feel that the list is good enough to get you started, I am truly honored. I sincerely wish you all the best and God speed. But if you think that they could use a little elaboration and perhaps you could read more about my journey, I am honored all the same.

Continue to walk with me another day.

Snail Suckin' Sunday

Last Sunday I experimented with these river spiral snails. I bought a pack from the Sunday morning market near my apartment. I believe they’re called ‘bali tong’ in Chinese. In Malay, it is called ‘siput sedut’, literally snail sucked. Well, that’s how you get it out, you suck.

I clipped off the butt to facilitate the sucking and while preparing the ingredients, I saw them move, no butts! They were alive, even after a few hours in the fridge, not frozen of course.

The flesh were colorful so I thought I take a few shots of my raw material before plunking them into boiling water.

Since it’s my own meal, I decided to suck each one out and stir fry them without the shell. It’s Sunday and I got the whole afternoon see.

The verdict, it’s better to stir fry with the shell coz my dish turned out to be extremely slimy. It’s like eating them alive! Although it did help them speed down my throat.
And there is still that green matter on each one. No wonder they are sucked, bypassing the unsightly look.

I should have done more research, for preparation and the recipe. Sigh*

Another sucking session next week I expect.

A lively picture don't you think?

The shell makes it look a lot. It actually is very little.

Yes, I love chillies. The other green matter. This dish is stir fried with some tumeric powder, hence the color.

You'll have to search for the recipe since I don't have a proper one, yet. Experimenting remember?

Escargot anyone?

Freakin' fritters

The oil price increase has shown some effects in my world. One of my colleagues have taken the bus to work because his car guzzled 15 bucks a day to work. That is simply outrageous!

Yesterday my housemate bought some traditional tea time treats called ‘kuih’, specifically prawn fritters or cucur udang (cucur=fritters, udang=prawn).

The fritters were not obvious so I asked him what they were.

“The seller said they are prawn fritters but I don’t see any prawns in them” he said.

“Ah, very typical of them. Opportunists business people. It’s the oil price I tell you. Everybody is using it as an excuse to reduce the quality and/or serving to cover their operation cost rake more profit.” I said.

And don’t even bother asking why there are no prawns in your prawn fritters. They’ll ask you ‘do you see any kodok(toad) in your cucur kodok (toad fritters)? Or are there any badak(rhino) in your cucur badak (rhino fritters)? No! It’s just a namesake.

Pretty soon we’ll have no banana in our banana fritters. Impossible you say? Believe me, impossible is nothing. Nothing, that’s what you’ll get if price keeps on increasing.

And then there is the fried noodles dish we love so much called mi goreng. (mi=noodles, goreng=fried). It used to be a cherished dish of the street vendors and hawker centers. A complete meal with meat and vegetables thrown in. However, today, it is not a delicious dish easily found everywhere. It has gone through a negative evolution in most places and all you get today is mi go-wrong! Gone, I tell you.

They say money makes the world go round. Well, at the rate things are going, it seems my world is spinning out of control. But what can I do?

Roll with the punches, adapt and evolve. And keep smiling.

Although I suspect some are laughing their way to the bank.

April Sunset In Miri

These were taken in April 2005, at Miri Esplanade in Bakam, right in front of my old highschool, SMS Miri. Enjoy.




There were no adjustments made to the pictures, so tweak your monitor setting a little to get your desired brightness, contrast and hue.

Have a great weekend, even if you're working tomorrow. I'm not.

Flashing crows in Bangsar

Every evening is a croaky affair in Bangsar’s Lucky Garden. The trees are alive with the sound of crows. Really, it looks like the leaves are flying off the branches, noise and all. There’s a mad rush happening on and above ground. The crows are busy preparing for the night, tidying up their nests and catching up with each other’s accounts for the day.
People are walking in quick and erratic motions to avoid becoming a target practice while the birds casually spit from their behind. You would too if you saw the pavement and street all wet and marble like. Cheese cake anyone?
Trust me, you do not want to be walking under the trees when the crows come flying home. The size and texture of their droppings on your windscreen…urghhh

You’d hear ‘caawww, caaww’ *tack* ‘caaw’ *tack*tack* ‘caaww’….

I come here grudgingly but it is the next best place to get my groceries. Two supermarkets, TMC and Village Grocer, offer decent products of both worlds, local and international, at reasonable price with a wide variety. Most important of all, it is the nearest place to shop, with ample free parking space. The only catch is the crap.

I was there last Saturday evening for a cuppa at Starbucks and some groceries, in Bangsar Village Mall. As usual the birds are home and gossiping the evening away, talking trash and oozing manure. I walked across the street as fast as I could and when I looked back I saw them take flight in unison, more of a scram, from the trees, regroup and explode again. This got my attention and instinctively I grabbed my camera and waited for another burst of flights. Nothing happened so I decided to shoot blank. And wouldn’t you know it, they performed the explosion right after. So, I waited and tried again. The same thing happened.

“Is there some cosmic order that I don’t know of? Some unknown force of nature messing with me so I can’t get a good shot?”
I fired several more rounds and the birds couldn’t make up their minds. To fly or not to fly. Is that even a question?

Hey! Are they mocking me? How the hell do they know the instant I click my camera. I’m not making any sound here. I know these birds are intelligent but they can’t possibly have super sensitive hearing or animal instinct?

I finally realize that my flash was on and that was their cue. For a moment I thought they've outwitted me. But damn they sense flashes well ! I was very far away but they could detect my flash going off. I’ll never get a good clean shot this way. Unless I have an independent flash. Then we’ll see who’s messing with who.

Oh but I didn’t have to get another flash to have some fun. I went closer and took shelter under the bus stop, right across the street. The crows were chilling out precariously on the branches above when I sent spikes of stunning flashes and made them burst into flight. Some must have soiled themselves. But for them it’s all good. It’s on the hood.

“Those are for my car you did every week. That’s for my collar many months ago. And that’s for my friend’s head years back” and I grinned a wide one.

Sufficiently amused, I hurriedly walked back into the mall, hoping none of them had time to figure out what just happened. Crows never forget, so the notion goes.

And I'm making sure I have a record.

One more for the blog, I reckoned.

It was not clear to me, growing up, how cunning these birds are. I didn’t think much of them since I seldom come across them. Let alone encounter a murder of crows. Yup, that’s what they are called in groups. They are rarely seen in Sarawak. Sure there were plenty of images on TV but it was recorded from lands far away.

Nothing prepared me for the culture shock when I first lived in Section 18, Shah Alam in '96. The number of crows there amazed me. They were everywhere. Especially in residential areas where domestic food waste was in abundance. There were husky ‘caaawww’ sounds everywhere I turned. Black shiny figures whizzing around. However, I soon see them just like everyone else, a nuisance. They are not only unhygienic since they scavenge for food wastes, they wreck dumpsters and tear rubbish bags, scattering trash around. And worst of all, they poop everywhere. Making everything their target practice. A good friend even got shot on the head twice during our college days.

The early introduction to crows I got was in elementary school. It was a tale of the thirsty crow. I believe every Malaysian knows it. Several clicks traced the origin of the fable to India. Now that’s new. I always thought it was Malaysian. But then again, it is not that hard to see since Malaysians are partly made up of descendants of Indian immigrants working in the rubber estates in the past and cultures intermingled. For the uninitiated, this smart and robust little bird managed to drink from a slender neck pitcher after placing pebbles into it diligently, all drama and suspense aside. The moral of the story? Think fast, your life depends on it.
No, really, that’s it. But of course you could always come up with your own ideas.
Excuse the horrid color painting. It's my first attempt with photoshop's paintbrush. Only the outline was by hand. And I didn't get the chance to get a picture of the droppings since I was too scared to get in the line of fire. Besides, there's too much crap in here anyway.

Related Links: Fans Site Killers Site

Have a great Wednesday's night out!

Well I'll be tagged!

I’ve been tagged by Zuhri. It’s about the 13 things in your room and since there are no rules and boundaries, here goes anything.

1. The scents of a man – The first thing that came to me was my collection of perfumes. Except for the three Body shops and the Ferrari black, all are procured during a warehouse clearance sale by the importer and distributor, Luxasia and during Isetan Sale in the last two years. Most are sold at 70% discount. They may be cheap but they make me smell good . From left : Bodyshop Altaro, Amorito and Aztique, Burberry Weekend, Ferrari Black, Ferrari, Versace, Dolce & Gabana, Versace Versus, Paco Rabane Ultraviolet Man, Nautica, Carolina Herera H2O 212, Moschino, Hogo Boss and Paul Smith. Now that doesn’t make me smell good naturally does it? Hell, with all that perfumes, you probably think I hate my own original smell don’t you? Well, not exactly. These different scents accentuate the different moods I am in when integrated with my own. Now aren’t you curious about my own…

2. The poisons a man discerns – Except for the tequila and Johnie Walker Black Label, the rest of the bottles are bought from duty free outlets in Miri. I drink a shot or two during weekends when I’m not out partying; a night cap. And when The Thirsty Traveler is featuring any of them, I lift my own glass and drink to knowing exactly what he’s talking about. Most of the times however, they help me collect dust. Trust me, I’m no alcolo’hic*! Perfumes have alcohol too you know. So these I use to exude that drunken stench scent.

3. The words for a man - These are the books that sit in the wall cabinet. I read LOTR two years back but revisit some chapters now and again. The same goes for Harry Potter. ‘The Story and It’s Writer’ Is my current read. It’s an anthology of short stories by famous writers from all over the world. This was my lucky draw during my American Degree Program preparation in Shah Alam back in 98. It has been collecting dust since then and only recently did I pick it up. I’m glad it’s managed to follow me throughout my nomadic years. Also, there are some foreign language guides and most of them are for flipping through only. I thought they might come in handy; yeah, usually when I can’t shut my eyes to sleep. Gute Nacht.

4. The weight of a man – Yup, this were two of my many tools for dealing with my heavier issues. A bathroom scale and a kitchen scale, both are not where they’re supposed to be, in my bedroom. The bathroom scale I use everyday to monitor my weight. And before you go ahead and say I’m obsessed with my weight, professionals say it is helpful to be aware of your weight if you want to stay lean. It tells you when to crank up the gear whenever there is a steady gain, rather than a late detection. The kitchen is actually a diet scale and was used during the initial stages of my diet program and I swear it has been months since I took it out of the drawer, till now, when I needed a picture. It helped me estimate the amount of food in preparing for a balanced low calorie diet.

5. The chunks for a man – make that double chocolate chunk. This is my new craze from the great Betty Crocker herself. Home made cookies in 20 minutes, and she ain’t just crockin yer chains. They are delicious. I can’t bake it as good as the serving suggestion shows but it tastes good all the same. And you know how misleading these suggestions are. I keep these soft cookies in a zip lock plastic bag. Why do I have it in my bedroom? Because I can don’t have a cookie jar in the kitchen and a host of other different reasons. I know, I know, lame excuse, bad for my weight etc. etc. But I know what I’m cookin’. And now you know why I weigh myself everyday!

6. The hair of a man – I am my own baker, I am my own barber. I’ve been doing my own hair for a while now and haven’t had any complaints (haha!). I screwed up once and learned to cut my hair better every time. The only frustrating thing about my hair is the male pattern baldness. This is ironic because if it’s such a problem to me and my head, I should be glad that the root of the problem is gradually falling off my head, sometimes by a good bunch. Well, here’s how I see it, when it falls on my shoulders, it’s a burden.

7. The main board of a man – I can’t seem to get rid of this old main board. It hangs behind my bedroom door. I can’t imagine myself disrespecting the ‘mother’ board.

8. The crafts of a man – This is a portion of my bedroom wall. The perfume rack is my creation, made from rejected parts sold separately at Ikea. You guessed it, they’re cheap. The overhead storage rack is actually shoe rack frames arranged on two wooden beams. A bachelor who moved a lot learns to make his own things. Limited space challenges the mind in designing to adapt and customize. It is a cost saving hobby as well. Besides, I don’t know when I’ll be moving out again so these things I can leave behind. I only used screws, no nails, so they dismantle easily. Hmmm, come to think of it, I put my heart and soul into them and I’d probably take them with me.

9. The space of a man – Since my room is small, many things hang on the walls or are stored on overhead racks to save space. There are racks on other portion of the walls. The foldable table comes in handy but is rarely used so it hangs on the wall most of the time.

10. The junks of a man – The overhead storage rack stores many boxes that keep all sorts of junk long forgotten and deserved to be thrown away. But they linger on. So do many things under my bed but these are kept for their future purposes.

11. The parts for a man – The planks are loose parts sold separately at dirt cheap prices from Ikea. So far, they’ve made my perfume rack and a counter top for my window. I love Ikea’s “As Is” policy. I’ve bought many items that are ex displays, missing parts or have minor scratches sold for less than 50%. I’ve bought tampered glasses from Ikea that are ideal for my next coffee table project.

12. The old computer – Under my bed also lie my old pc. It still runs perfectly but I’ve used the hard disk as an external storage device for my laptop.

And last but certainly not least;

13. The Ring for a man – I am no Frodo but I do have the One Ring. The Evil Sauron of RHB Bank tempted me with this very Ring to get me signed up for it’s credit card. Now I am bound by it, as much as I wish to get rid of it. Like Frodo, I am finding it hard to resist the power (of Visa and Mastercard). And it is consuming me (cash) from within. But as Frodo does, I will win this war. I will cast the golden chip based card in the fires of mount doom. The ring I will keep, coz it’s rare and not cheap!

“Oy Samwise Gamgee! Where’s that money you owe me? I can’t pay my bills with your stinkin’ taters y’know. And don’t tell me to sell this Ring either.” *thud*

So with these thirteen items in my room I leave you to decide if you have your own to share. If you wish to be tagged, leave a comment saying so, for this is no simple task and you may end up tidying up your room (and your chest) for the pictures; a requirement intended to assist your readers on their journey to knowing you a little better, through the simple things lying in your room.

But let me tell you that it was worth it, because like the things you’ve been wanting to clear out, you’ll be glad you finally shared some unknown facts about your room, thirteen to be exact.

The Moss Pit

My Brain was tapped over a comment I made in a dear blogger's comment box and I was asked to define 'substance' in Kate Moss' case.

My skull shook and my brain stirred for an answer.

Here’s what I have to say...
______________________________________

Go easy on the tapping there, please. It's beginning to displace some parts of my squishy brain, or what's left of it.

You're right. No one is perfect. And it is not fair to describe and figure out people by merely reading or hearing about them, what they say, do or comment. And as rightfully indicated, they are still entitled for their views and comments, which is also not perfect, shocking and offensive at times.

I agreed with FH2o and rephrased his preference for style and substance. This was meant to indicate that style alone does not get anyone very far, male or female, super model or super regular. No reference was made to Kate Moss.

But that must have been misleading because it gave the impression that I think Kate moss has no substance. Trust me, that would be the last thing in my mind. She has done so well to stay in the business because as we all know, the fashion industry is ruthless. I would be a bleeding moron to think that it is pure luck and divine intervention that she stayed so long. Even idiotic to arrogantly say that she lacks or has no substance when I don’t even know squat about her other than she’s a supermodel.

This triggered some research and I soon found out that Kate Moss and Substance is not a pretty picture in Google, unfortunately. This is old news to some though.

News 1

News 2

I haven't the time and energy to launch a full blown research but as far as 'substance' is concerned, I believe she has it, in every sense of the word. Although I strongly doubt she needed the other substance to make it big. It just sort of sniffed up her alley. That’s not surprising in the rich and famous playground, even here in the local scene.

The rich and famous can afford to make bigger mistakes but that doesn’t make them get away any easier. And I know branding and generalization is unconstructive but that’s what we get in the world today. Can plus size models make it big? Does TV and Hollywood promote real people and real life? Is reality TV even real?

Scandalous as this may be, she is learning to deal with it and whatever she did must have paid off because as it was kindly shared here, there are more positive news about her now than many months ago. She is cat walking her way to fame and success again. Fans now love her more. Critics can’t wait to sniff her faults again and there will always be those who see her as just another supermodel; they don’t know, they don’t care.

And before I forget, there are also those who are getting to know her a little better every day, thanks to people a lot like you.

Fire in the sky

I’ve seen many pictures of clouds and the sky in this circle and thought I add one more today.
This was an evening sunset at Boulevard Commercial Center, Miri,

Have a great weekend. Paint the town red.

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.

G'day mate!

Yesterday I posted pictures of a beautiful model of Malaysia Airlines plane, which I took in Bangsar Village. A kayaker nut asked ‘there were no models of animals or toy animals at the mall? sad mall’ and it made me beam with joy on this beautiful Tuesday Morning.

Why, it’s like he knew what came about before the plane flew my way.

I was walking out of Starbucks after a productive wi-fi session when out of the blue came this great big kangaroo! It was part of Malaysia Airlines' Australian travel promotion. I was so excited to see the Ozzie that I grabbed my tool hanging around in my laptop backpack, and snapped away.

Seriously, out of the blue.

Close that pouch will ya Ozzie! And stop scratching your behind...

So, there you have it, a model of an animal in a mall. Don’t you just love the ring?

Now can someone please tell us an amusing kangaroo story?