Archive for Personal

The disease of “Someday I’ll”

I think we all know that person or persons who constantly regale you with great deeds done…in progress.

They talk about their great novel.
Or breakthrough album.
Or trip to the Amazon.
Or leaving that job they hate so, so much.

But dreamers and doers are often not the same person.

It’s easy to fantasise but realities like mortgages, children and the like often put paid to lofty ambitions.

It’s all right to consciously bid goodbye to dreams and decide you want to prioritise your family or career.

But some people let their thwarted hopes eat them alive. I watched my mother let her bitterness poison her marriage and household. I grew up believing that marriage was nothing more than a stifling cage and my mother the best example of a clipped bird that in anger turned on its own brood.

Forgive yourself for letting some things pass you by.

Forgive the people who you sacrificed your dreams for, whether they be your spouse, children or parents.

The simple truth is that you must live with your choices and that in the end, you have no one but yourself to answer to. Of course the religionists will bring God into the equation but to thine own self, be true as Shakespeare says.

Either wait for the right time to chase your dreams, or be willing to accomodate a little time in your current schedule for them. If you can’t see yourself doing either then let your dreams go. Maybe with a little sadness or wistfulness but own your choices. Life is too short for regrets.

The problem with allowing comments

…is that it breeds the anonymous trolls.

The Job’s comments policy is very clear, IMHO:

Please refrain from comments of a racist, sexist, personal, vulgar or derogatory nature and note that comments can be edited, rewritten for clarity or to avoid questionable issues. We also reserve the right to delete off-topic comments.

Not brain science, right?

Tell that to the many readers who think it is OK to go against the comment policy. Let’s not get started on the likes who write like this:

“PARTI XXXX ARE #&#&#&#&# AND @*#*#*#*# EH BLOODY POLITICIAN A YOU ARE A %*$*$*$*#(( ”

Moderating comments is soul-destroying.

Bad language.

Bad grammar.

Bad taste. In humour.

And pretty much every single commenter considers it his/her “right” to be published on the site. Am mystified. And also thinking I need to stock up on a lot of mindnumbing substances.

Crawling out of the comfort zone

Why, yes, it’s the new job post.

Anything worth doing is worth doing well. But the path towards “doing well” isn’t always easy.

It’s been about a week relearning the subeditor routine. Working, for me, requires a rhythm, a structure and a routine that is flexible while also being familiar.

There’s been a lot to get used to. Shifts, for instance. On morning shifts, I wake up at 6.45am and finish up work at 4pm. Afternoons mean 4pm to 12am manning the subsdesk.

The multitasking is a bit of a headache. Scanning the newswires and emails for things to put up, and in the morning it’s a mad rush to update all the sections. I admit the first half hour after waking up my mind is still hazy but it gets better as the day goes on.

Until I get to moderating the site’s comments. By the 20th comment, I usually feel like slashing my wrists. Anonymous commenters do not hesitate to unleash the vitriol. I just wish they would, oh, spell better.

So I’ve been learning things the hard way – silly mistakes, cluelessness as to the daily work routine, muddled communications. But the people I’ve been working with have been the patient, kind and professional sort. So I’ve nothing to complain about in that regard.

I hope I’ll get into the groove by the end of the month and become less of a liability. Setting small goals, making baby steps. By the end of the month, may this post remind me how far I’ve come since I wrote this.

Crossed fingers!

Gotta be standing for something

It can be hard dealing with pigheaded people. But someone stubbornly set on an opinion is still better than someone who’s wishy-washy. You have to stand for something and figure out what you’re for and what you’re against.

Sometimes what angers you is a good clue about what makes you feel alive. And I figured out that it riles me up when people make excuses for poor use of language in the public sphere.

Use all the bad grammar you want on your blog or at home, but I have no patience for people justifying it on government websites. Have some standards for pity’s sake, Malaysia.

Still tired

Fatigued at moment. Likely due to sleep debt. Hope it resolves soon.

Survived the first day!

Will blog about it once my braincells have recovered from moderating TMI’s comments. AIEEEEEE.

I can haz new job?

icanhazjob

It’s my first day sub-editing for The Malaysian Insider. The only real change is that instead of working in pyjamas from 8am to 6pm, I’m working (still in pyjamas) from 7am to 4pm or 4pm to 12am.

I wrote this blogpost last night but scheduled it for  9am today SO NO I R NOT SLACKING AND BLOGGING AT WORK REALLY REALLY.

Though am slightly sad Goreng.my didn’t work out the way we envisioned it, but I learned a lot about  managing a “proper” website. Lesson No.1: to make a lot of money with a site, you actually have to put in a lot of money and have sponsors lined up before even launching.

Am looking forward to subbing for TMI as the experience will be quite different from, say, my last stint subbing at Malaysiakini. Not going to talk badly about my previous employers as that is not classy. What I like about my current employers is that I can work from home, I don’t need to come into the office except for the odd meeting or to prove that it is me subbing and not my cat, Wally.

That means: being able to play loud music and dance like a crazy hyena in-between uploading stories. The blog will probably be continually updated about life as a sub-editor, tricky style guides and how to resist the temptation to illustrate political stories with random pictures of kittens.

 

 

Hello, 2012.

The first Monday of the year and I’m as happy as a lark. Just because.

Joy, after all, can be where you find it.

I’m a bunny momma again!

Malone looking a little confuzzled.

So the significant other got me…a rabbit. Say Hi to Malone the Christmas bunny! He’ll be the sixth rabbit I’ve ever owned.

The good: he’s got personality and doesn’t bite.

The bad: he disapproves of his current feed. Finicky eater, this one.

Both my cats are far from thrilled but who knows? Maybe Malone might end up being a better playmate for Cat No.2 than ornery loner Cat No.1 is.

A Christmas story to remember

(This was published as a Facebook note Friday, 25 December 2009 at 21:26)

So, I lost my purse last night.

Yes, I very clever hor. The good news is I got it back. The unbelievable news is how I got it back.

Just an hour after I’d dropped it, some guy finds it and calls Maybank. Maybank can’t get my phone, they tell the fella to just leave my purse at the nearest police station.

But no. Instead, he rifles through my cards and discovers my workplace. He then sends an email to my colleagues who then call me.

Three hours ago, I got my purse back. He showed up at a cafe near his lodgings. MH, as I’ll call him, is a foreigner of South Asian descent. I offer to give him a reward and he waves it away, appalled. “No, no, I didn’t return it to get a reward!” Then he hastily walks off.

Half an hour later, he SMSes me, tells me that he had to rush off because he was running late.

“If you really want to give me something, remember me in your prayers.”

I could have cried.

It was against the odds that I would get my purse intact, and that a Good Samaritan would go to all that trouble just to return it to me.

God bless him and all the people who make the extra effort to do good in this world.

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