How does it feel ...

when you're sittin' at a table dining, and at that particularly comfortable moment surrounded by friends; new and old, you would unknowingly be making sidewardly glances; you see a 29-year old on your left, and sitting opposite of yourself is a soon-to-be 24 year old on December 26th, and there's a 26-year old and well I don't think I need not dwell or be borthered further on the age consensus which I had just thought of in my head.

At that spur of a milisecond, upon realizing that I'm the oldest of those who were at the table on that particular moment, I realized I still feel exactly the same way as I was when I was 25, 20, 17, 15... I could just go on and on. I still get excited when I make visits to a computer games store sifting though computer games that comes in CD, DVD, or even diskette format (that was back in the late 80's). Of course, then there are cars, motorcycles, knives, et cetera cetera.. yada yada... And I still get that same tingly sensation when I see a nice looking girl.

Boys will be always boys, who on certain occassions are called men.

Life is like...

.. a box of chocolate  you'll never know when you're going to get it..

Here's another one:

.. a box of chocolate gone bad, you'll never which one it is.

Where art thou, my muse

The lacking presence of my muse seems to have left me dried, have got lots of things to write about, but I just don't feel like it, can't put it into words to form sentences, in this state I won't be able to write anything as serious as to why I like to smell my laundry.

What transpired today

As I have expected, I was pulled into the nearest freely available conference room. It was a fairly short discussion, as I have explained to my future-upcoming-soon-to-be-former manager why I'm leaving. He did sounded sincere about his offer, I mean, if I ever thought of wanting to come back, that I should let him know and he can make "certain" arrangements to have me back. Though I'm not sure of wanting to take his word for it, provided that he will still be the Tower Delivery Manager though.

Oh, hmm.. gotta go and finally fix the bumper first thing tomorrow morning. Haih.. Ciao

LOR

I've just submitted my LOR yesterday, not going to elaborate on what an LOR is, just leave it be as it is. I'm expecting myself to be called or pulled away into a conference room for a discussion with my manager and/or AL, I hope it will be a short one, hands-off, ok-tata-bye-bye.

Huh

Er, I've just made a girl cry today, I mean she's one of those TM's call centre agents. I was swearing alright, but I consider it as mild by my standard, but at least I wasn't screaming, as opposed to the guy to whom I was talking to last night though. I wasn't angry at her in particular or anything, I was just mad at the way they handle my complaints: the hands-off houdini method - lodge the complaint, gimme-the-report-number, disengage, and never-hear-anything-from-them then onwards standard MO when lodging a complaint to TM. I've never been amused by it, never did, and I don't think I ever will.

Exactly the reason why I am very particular when it comes to reprimanding somebody or about something. er, everytime when there's a girl, or for more politically correct definition, the ladies are somewhat involved. I don't think the ladies are weak-minded IMHO, I mean I've had my fair share of beating, as in mentally, thank you very much. It's the crying part that makes me go weak on the knees.

What a weekend

Oh yeah, just what exactly had happened during the weekends? I've pretty much scratched my friend's front bumper. And the first thing popped out of my mouth? Owwwhhh... sheeeett.. It's a new Vios by the way, the E model was it. It's dugong shape just makes it hard to estimate how much further ahead the curb was, and no I'm not blaming the car, as a friend was trying "hard" to point out, as I'm always in the habit of blaming the trees, the birds, it's that other guy/gal, or was it the shop owners of groceries stores that sell those cigarettes. I guess it's the form of escapism that I could relate to, as I always try to see find the funny side (or the lighter side if you would call it) of everything regardless whether it's painful and/or bitter, and no, I'm not in denial.

Oh back to the scratched Vios, so I went to the Ikano store at the Curve, and inquired one of the friendly store assistants on the sort of scratch that those rubber compound car products would be able to fix, and especially on the Vios. I call a minor scratch, and the owner's version of the description? "You call that a minor scratch?!?!?". Not really sure whether he's pissed or annoyed, but I think I should be able to pretty much surmise that it's somewhere in the middle.

Oh, and did make a stop at a nearby auto shop and was told by the owner of the auto shop (I think) that a respray of the whole front bumper would cost me 250 pak lah dollar. And according to Pengulu Seri Kembangan, that's decently cheaper that what he had to pay to respray his Wira's back bumper.

While this entry is being written, and as I'm currently watching an episode of House "One Day, One Room", the TV series, where this rape victim lady was insistent on wanting to talk to House about everything else but on what had happened. It's not so much on the whole classic House lines that interests/amuses me, since I've already watched this particular episode a dozen times, it's more on what was quoted, where "life is a series of rooms, and who we get stuck with in those rooms determines how our lives play out". Now that's food for my thought for the day.

Clean laundry

I can't seem to be able to express how I like clean laundry. Yep, I've said it clean laundry. I will always get blast over sniffing my clean laundry, how good it smells and feels like, when you brush it over your nose and/or cheeks. Today, or rather yesterday was such a day.

Traffic Report

Nothing to report except the roads that leads into KL was damn packed, had to loiter around Pusat Bandar Damansara for an hour and a half. Half an hour sitting my sorry behind down at Starbucks downing a cup of Cap and a slice Blueberry cheese cake, or was it? Goddammit I missed my old cellphone, else I'd be snappin' pictures of it and of the traffic. Nothing beats a photo or two, if one photo speaks a thousand words, imagine how many thousand words worth would it be if there were more than one or two photos.