Some days, I wonder how my heart works. Why I still love the people I do and why I feel happyhappy when I see them and get all awkward when I imagine them with someone else. There's no real basis for it, but I believe strongly in what the zodiac tells us about the people around us (mostly because I've had so much real life experience which proves that these profiles are actually pretty accurate). I used to lie awake at night, staring at the darkness, trying to figure out how to stop thinking about the past, but now I realise that I wouldn't even be here if I didn't make the mistakes I did. At the end of it all, there's this empty ache because I don't know whether I really made the right choice. I still haven't changed, I guess. I'm still ready to do the silly things I always said I would do for someone whom I love. I still wear sleeveless shirts and dress so casually people always mistake me for a student or someone's younger brother (yes, I know. Real men wear collared T-shirts, apparently).

I want hugs and soft kisses which make my heart beat faster. I want someone to talk to (yeah, I suck at listening). Someone to buy nice things for. But most of all, I just want to go back to a simple time when everything was clear-cut, my feelings were so clear and I woke up every morning remembering why I was doing all this. Everything is so tangled, but there are still simple things inside me. I'm just not sure what I can do now, everything seems so complicated and laden with hidden meanings.

I've been listening to Annett Louisan's not-so-new but hip album quite a bit recently, but I always glossed over one song because it was so cheery and upbeat. While waiting for someone to come online (yeah, you! Why do you think I'm online so often? xD), I actually listened to the lyrics and I was surprised. She put it in such a light and airy manner, but anyone who has ever loved someone and still has not moved on will understand what she's saying here:


Du hast dich nicht verwählt,
ich habe nur mein Herz mit meinem Telefon und mein PC vernetzt.
Wenn du mir sagen willst,
dass du jetzt um mich weinst,
drück die eins

No, you haven't got the wrong number,
I've just connected my heart to my phone and my PC
If you'd like to tell me,
that you're crying for me now,
press #1


Wenn du mich fragen willst,
ob ich noch sauer bin,
ob wir uns treffen könn´n,
von wegen Neubeginn
oder wer weiss was sonst für eine Heuchelei,
drück die zwei

If you want to ask me,
if I'm still mad at you,
or if we could meet up,
and discuss getting together again
or who knows what kind of crazy ideas you have,
press #2


Brauchst du Hilfe bei der Frage
wie´s mir geht in meiner Lage-
ich Gefühle für dich hege oder Groll.
Wieviel ich dir glauben sollte,
was ich jetzt noch von dir halte
und wie oft mir so was noch passieren soll,
drück die null

If you need help figuring out
how I'm doing here now
or whether I still have feelings for you or plain hate you.
How much I should trust you,
what I still think of you,
and how often something like this should happen again,
press #0

Her voice is so sugary in this song, only the last lines of the song give you an idea of how much sadness there is in these things (here's where I do the obligatory "Ahhh, I want to date someone like her!" statement).


People say I'm shameless and crazy, but when I saw her smiling, I wished that I had been able to sneak up and sing:

Once upon a time I was failing in class,
now I'm only falling in love.
There's nothing I can do, roti canai's bad for the heart.

See! Even I'm shy sometimes! ^^

On a happier note, I was having late-night nasi lemak with some old friends (and a future terrorist), and these indian guys were running a really tight ship. They had trays of drinks ready, you order and they grab one and the kitchen guy would replenish it. They had a huge cooking surface where there were at least 10 eggs being fried at once. The waiters would walk past the kitchen and shout stuff like "<food order 1> <food order 2>....NASI LEMAK AYAM TELUR GORENG ". They even walked so fast that you feel like you're stuck in a game of Diner Dash. But I think the best part was when the guy came up to *kira*, he cleared the plates, and instantly reeled off a number. I was so impressed with the guy, I did a little *tabik hormat* and he said with a half-serious smile "Manyak makan nasi lemak boleh jadi ini macam!" *shake head*.

I wonder how people do the whole celibacy thing. They make it seem so easy T_T

I'm on my way back from work and it's raining outside, you can see the water washing away the day's dirt from the LRT windows. The air conditioning is cold enough to crystallize everyone's thoughts and I find myself standing in front of a boy and his father. The boy looks like he should be in Standard 3 but he speaks with a really touching childlike innocence. He's wearing a blue shirt and he sways from side to side in his seat like the train is actually a submarine exploring the undersea depths of Kuala Lumpur and we're being rocked by giant air bubbles rising to the surface.

"Bapa, bapa...hari ni nak makan apa?" he asks while still staring out the window. His father is looking for something in his pockets and nods absently before answering.
"Hari ni hujan lah"
"Nak pergi restoran apa, bapa?"
"Restoran rumah"
The boy smiles, thinks for a second then starts laughing and you can see a smile spreading across his father's face. Restless, the boy grabs his father's hand and examines it like a fortune teller. When he sees a stick of gum sticking out of his father's backpack, he pulls it out and holds it up to the light to read it.

"Bapa, apa ni? Si-apa?" I lean in and see that he's holding a stick of gum and is squinting at the word xylitol. His dad takes a look at the label, but probably has no idea how to pronounce the word. But he just looks his son straight in the eye and says...
"Silat oil"

I want to laugh, but I realise I'm wearing my headphones which I've long since turned off so I could eavesdrop on these two. So I just stand and smile silently to myself. It's a cute and wonderful thing, I think. But when they get off at the station, I catch a glimpse of the back of the boy's tshirt and I see two words: "Sekolah" and "Autistik". I wonder whether I could be a cool dad too, if my children were autistic. I really do.

"Apa yang kamu buat kat kerja? Asyik tidur aje!"

I can't say he's too far off from the mark actually. (My younger brother and I have this penchant for conversing in Malay. We probably picked this up from all those Malay manga we read.). I spend most of my time at work dreaming. I try not to sleep openly, but sometimes, I just doze off and start drooling on my keyboard. My colleagues are nice enough to *psst!* me. My boss walks by and slaps me on the back when he sees me yawning, but he also yawns a lot ;)

Recently, I was asked to create a document to track my translation activities (who the assignments came from, how long they took, etc.) and it was satisfying to look at all these figures. Now I know I've done more than 100 official translation jobs. Not counting the times when secretaries drop by for a quick question, or when my German colleagues IM me over the office network to ask for help. I'm rather happy that the corporate communications team over in Germany actually bothers to consult me nowadays whenever they are working on something new which will be published in English eventually. There's actually a very open atmosphere in the company, both here in Malaysia and over in Germany. I remember when I pointed out a bad translation on one of our internal wikis, and my colleague was quick to point out: "ups - aber das waren nicht wir ComMädels :-)" (oops, but we comm girls didn't do that). I guess this is why I like my job, the requests may be rushed, but people always ask in a polite but casual manner and it feels more like I'm doing a friend a favour.

The work isn't always technical. Sometimes, I get to translate semi-formal announcements about events in the company, and there's a certain tone of pride in these announcements which is hard to pinpoint, but as a translator, I try my best to convey this. I really wonder who actually reads the things I translate. But whenever I translate something, there's a feeling of accomplishment, like I've drawn a secret crayon drawing on the wall which only other little boys of my age can see and appreciate. Slowly but surely, I'm drawing on the wall. I wonder what kind of image I've been working on.

Twisted arms rise, casting lazy shadows on the dusty earth. Brushing back strands of hair, she leans against the tree trunk to survey all that lies beneath the hill. Slender fingers smooth the ruffles in her skirt, folding it neatly before she sits. Ignoring the prickle of the grass and the crackle of dry leaves, her eyes remain shut. Slow. Sudden. Warm droplets escape and trickle down her cheeks. Her fingers unclench and a piece of paper flaps off in the afternoon breeze. Nails clawing into her palm, her heart violently cries out as the sun disappears behind the clouds.  

The fat, puffy clouds stroll casually across the sky, occasionally leaking some sunlight through. It's midday and the sun is at its brightest. In about thirty minutes, my shirt will cling uncomfortably to my back, but for now I feel a thin breeze whistling past and everything is fine with the world. Things have been slow at work, so I have been taking leave as much as possible. Otherwise I wouldn't even be taking the train to the office at this time. It feels like a luxury, and I secretly gloat, having had a full ten hours of sleep. Sitting at the edge of my bench, I see two students sharing a copy of the Sun, standing dangerously close together. He probably likes her, but doesn't have the guts to tell her yet and she probably really wants to know what her horoscope for today will be like. A woman laden with shopping bags is sitting on my right. Her son happily runs from one end of the bench to the other. Whenever he stops at one end, he silently faces his mom and smiles before looking down seriously and dashing off in the other direction.

I close my eyes and the smell of grass slowly wraps itself around me.

A faint scent drifts over, and with my eyes still wrapped shut, I can tell it's coming from the end of the platform. I pull out my phone and pretend to fiddle with the buttons, but she's so far away I can only see what she's wearing - a black short sleeved blouse and a simple cream skirt. When she glances up at the clock, I notice her shoulder-length brown hair. Glancing over in her direction, I can hear the shuffle of feet and the train slowly rolls into the station, like it's been fasting all day.

Standing behind her, I can see her head bobbing to the beat of the music from her headphones. I'm so close I could reach out and tap her on the shoulder, but I feel so far away. My body is rooted to the spot, and my mind watches me from the other side of the platform. A strange, unknown ache rises inside me and it feels like the last day of the school holidays. I can see myself standing there, motionless, as the girl with the most perfect collarbones and beautiful hazel eyes passes me by.

Note: If you do happen to see someone whom you find attractive, you should at least try to talk to them. I'm too shy to do such things, but it's hard missing someone ><


 

The sky is navy interlaced with streaks of grey. Slow-moving clouds hide the moon. A steady stream of cars pass by, headlights bathing my back in sickly yellow light. Not looking, not thinking; my feet slide along the sleeping slabs of concrete. The fading pools of light cast by the streetlamps overhead are barely bright enough to keep the darkness from spilling over from behind the sound barrier. Thick and black, the darkness makes me wish I was already in the safety of my bed. Nervously, I increase the volume of the music I am listening to, trying to chase away these thoughts. There are small slits in the concrete to let the rainwater through, but as I peer into their emptiness, I can imagine falling down into the shallow drain and the murky water rising until all that's left of me is a cheery handphone strap floating on the surface. I close my eyes and shake my head like a dog drying itself, but the image remains. Foul water tugging at my knees and invading my ears. Heavy, opaque water drowning out my screams. I can feel someone staring at me and but all I can hear is the rush of water around me. When my eyes open, I see a crude mouth with sharp little teeth. I feel one finger snap, then two. In the night, nobody can hear you scream.

Walking out of the office, I look up and see the worn, grey sky. Clouds drift by desolately, looking unwashed and tired. A crowd of empty people march to the train station. No one glances around, their steps are measured and filled with unknown purpose. I scan the floor of the train station for cats lazing around, but the only cat lying around was smart enough to plant itself on a low chair before falling asleep. The soft fur lining its face seems to dissolve in sheer bliss as warm breaths of sleep escape from its pert nose. I watch for five more breaths, then discover that the rain is slowly making its presence felt outside. I tap my card and walk into the belly of the station.

Just as I step off the escalator, I see the white body of the train slide past me, tired faces blurred in the yellowish light of the evening. I turn down my headphones and rustle around in my bag, but my fingers come out empty. With nothing to read, I am left to study my waiting companion. Black flats with a mid-length cream skirt. Her shoulders are swathed in a black, long-sleeved blouse with a hint of light pink peeking out. I turn and pretend to look at the scrolling signboard which suspiciously screams out "Tren akan tiba dlm 1 minit 68 saat". When her fingers uncurl to flip the page, her arm relaxes just a bit and I can see that she's wearing a vest with a pink lace collar underneath her serious black blouse. The music starts to fade away as I focus on her lips, trying to imagine her smiling. The station falls silent and the drip-drop of the rain merges with the steady beat of my heart. But before I can finish piecing her smile together, the train rolls in. The signboard sighs inaudibly.

I lean back and feel the cold metal pole pressed against my spine. A middle-aged man chats on his phone so loudly I could probably hear him from the other end of the train. The poor woman standing beside him cringes inwardly and outwardly and I wonder whether there was once a time when she would wait for this same man to hold her hand. To my right, a little girl with unruly tufts of hair and a sweet yellow stripe summer dress is struggles to stand on her mother's lap. Her chubby little hands clutch at her mother's hair as she tries to pull herself up to get a better view of the outside world. With one hand guarding her shopping, her other tries to reign in her feisty little mountaineer. In between smoothing her daughter's skirt and admonishing her halfheartedly, the woman looks around hoping that nobody notices her daughter's unsightly behaviour. The little yellow-striped adventurer decides that she wants to climb higher, so she raises one foot, plants it firmly on her mother's chest and begins her ascent. Surprised and indignant, the mother quickly pulls her into her lap, but her little eyes glisten brightly like the lights whizzing past outside. As I stare into her eyes, I feel a little less tired and the sound of her mother telling her to sit down quietly almost sinks into the background noise.

Waves of sleepiness start to rub at my eyes. And the rhythmic rocking of the train is not helping at all. I turn around and see the same woman, now sitting down but still engrossed in her book. The cover is all black with a single white chess piece. The colour scheme floats around in my head until it suddenly strikes me where I've seen this before. Instinctively, I feel drawn to her neck. Long, dark hair pools around her collar and flows down her shoulders. The soft lines of her hair are a sharp contrast to the clean lines of her eyebrows and the arch or her nose. Looking at her, the sounds around me are sucked out through an invisible crack in the wall and we are left in a whirlpool of silence. Squinting, I can make out the outlines of her clavicles as they beckon to me. Meeting someone like this on the train is both exquisitely beautiful but filled with a sense of disappointment. It is seldom that such an interesting meeting (if I can even call it a meeting) happens to me on the train ride home. Like a sleek leather glove in the shop window, I know that such beauty is beyond my grasp. I'll walk past and admire it, and think to myself, "One day, I shall step inside and buy you, you lovely piece of leather,". It is an illusion, but a pleasant one nonetheless.

A sharp jab in the side wakes me from my reverie. The doors are open. The little yellow-striped girl and her harried mother passing by and I spot the elbow which *accidentally* brushed against me. The old man walks out without a care in the world and all anger deserts me. Old people can do whatever they want. When I get that old, I want to be evil. But that's a long way off. Looking back at the bench, I see the long-haired beauty still sitting down, her nose stuck firmly in the book. She's probably going to leave anytime soon, and nothing I do will stop her. I know it. She knows it. It's probably even written on the very page she's reading as I think this very thought. Dejected, I stare at the floor. The scuffed, dirty, grey floor...with a tag on it. I'm not really thinking, but I just walk over and pick it up. It has no picture on it, but I'm dead certain it's hers. I watch as my hand reaches out and taps it on the edge of her book. The back is facing me and by some miracle of mental agility, I actually remember to read her name before she plucks it from my hands. Belinda.

It must be a sign.

My hands freeze like they've just been kissed by a polar bear but my brain is running away, all on its own.

"Hello, how are you? My name is Edward."

I know it's wrong to lie, but sometimes, the words just come out on their own.

I remember that the change of the seasons would always come silently with this subtle feeling of change. It's now summer. And It really feels like the days are getting longer. A lot of things have been happening around me, and I am occasionally surprised to see how strange these things are. I'm living my life, day-to-day and it's hard to perceive my life the way others would.

I usually stay online with msn at work, so I can talk to friends when I'm bored and poke my younger brother to piss him off. So yesterday, I was talking to him on msn while we were both at work (the poor man is now doing his internship, which does count as work, I guess) and he mentioned how my older brother's company booked the whole cinema for a screening of Transformers. I was completely out of the loop >< But it's no wonder, because I'm in a sort of slumber now. All I do is work, meet my girlfriend, read, sleep. But it is a little worrying when I realise how little time I actually spend with the people who live in the same house as I do. So it's a nice thing that my dad still sits in the car with me (watching my awful driving) when I drive to work in the mornings.

Another funny thing was when I talked to Sidek on facebook chat. I was telling him about this interesting japanese movie I had watched on the weekend (Departures - catch it now at MidValley or Pavillion). It's a movie which talks about how the dead are prepared for their funerals. And I actually cried at least 4 times while watching the movie, certain parts are just really filled with an everyday sorrow which has been distilled tenfold. So when I told Sidek I was crying in the movie, he was kind of surprised. I guess people don't really think I'm the kind of guy who would cry, but actually I do that a lot now. Maybe there's more sad things in my life as I grow older. But I just don't like keeping it in me. My life is filled with many good things but there are also a lot of bad ones. I've never been one of those "macho" (yes, all my friends reading this are laughing already...) guys. I pretend to be many things, but when it comes to this, I'd rather just be honest with my feelings. I think by now, a huge amount of people must have seen me cry in shopping complexes already xD


Yesterday evening, I logged on to facebook, and decided to click on the facebook chat thing just to see who's online. I usually don't do this because it's always the same people, but I was feeling inquisitive. Lo and behold, my host sister was online. So we had a brief catch up session on our lives. She explained to me how she's going to pursue teaching (majoring in math and art) and I was really happy. Elisa is the cute little sister I always wished I had when I was growing up (I still wish I had a sister now, it's just something I always wanted). And she's actually quite talented when it comes to art. So I'm glad she's stopped studying mechanical engineering (ugh ><) and moved on to something more suitable for her. She wasn't exactly suffering, but as she so aptly put it, "...if I'm not going to pursue what I like the best, then it really doesn't matter. I can study anything else. Preferably something I don't like, so I won't have to care whether I'm any good." I guess the same could also apply to me studying IT. So she's submitted her portfolio and the interview is today. Then we finally started talking about her love life and I found out she has a nice new boyfriend waiting to celebrate with her once the interview is over. Elisa has always had interesting boyfriends, and this one is no exception, I guess. I like it how she said "Für mich war es ausschlaggebend, dass er ein bisschen geisteskrank ist." (The thing which decided it for me, was that he's a bit crazy). One of her other boyfriends had a really nice body (mmm) but he was rather conventional and they didn't last long. So yeah, I'm kind of proud of her. The part which caught me off-guard, was when I tried to explain to her about my current relationship...and when I told her about how my best friend was in love with the woman I'm with now, she was like "Fuck, das ist hart" (yeah, it means what you think it means...). I wonder when people will finally come to terms with the idea of me being a person who really is not that nice.


I was out the other day in Mont Kiara (a very posh looking area which made my wallet hide in shame in my jeans pocket) and we couldn't decide how to kill time because we had arrived much earlier than everyone else. So when I saw this black cat across the road, I followed it into this place called the Porto Romano (next to Wendy's) and it disappeared under a Campari umbrella. It was a polished black, cutting through the cold night shadows. Sometimes, I wish I had that kind of elegance and sense of direction in my life.

1) Black
I love the colour black. I don't know why. I was always a pretty cheerful kid so I'd be wearing bright colours, but I always felt attracted to black clothes. I remember one phase in my life where I only wore black tshirts. Walking around in KL with black sleeveless shirt and black jeans with black shoes, black socks and black underwear. I used to have this pair of glasses which had roundish frames. It was pretty fragile (for my standards) but it looks like the kind that John Lennon wears xD I really liked these glasses because they were black. There was a certain elegance about them.  I actually feel different when I'm in black. It's kind of strange but comforting.


2) Vanity
This one is rather strange. Especially since I dress very casually. And how I get bad haircuts quite often. But I'm really vain. Sometimes, it shows because I want to look a certain way. And I go to great pains to achieve this. I don't care if it's raining and there's water leaking in my shoes. I just don't. I think if I was a woman, I'd be wearing really nice lingerie (light purple with white lace) most of the time, regardless of what I was actually doing. But most of the time, I'm satisfied dressing in my usual laidback manner. When you walk around as much as I do, you appreciate nice slippers and shorts.


3) Regret
I guess this is related to my self-confidence which is totally disproportionate to my looks and abilities. I never actually regret things. I make choices. I know there's circumstance. But when I do something, I choose it for my own reasons. So no matter what happens, I won't really regret it. In my own perverse way, I'm proud of my choices because they made me who I am today.


4) I love to argue
I argue a lot with people. And I tend to win a lot because I'm sneaky and years of practice has made me quite good at this. Ask my friends. I don't find arguments offensive, if done properly. We all have different opinions. So why not talk about our views and argue? If we all just agree, then life would be very boring. But I tend to go overboard. Sometimes when I win, I take the other side and argue and maybe win again. Ahh, the joys of being a contrarian.


5) I dream in black and white
My dreams are usually extremely interesting affairs. They really are like films. At least I remember them that way. They are very detailed. I never realized it, until I spoke to someone who asked me whether I dream in colour or black and white. I know what colours the things in my dream have. But they appear in black and white nonetheless. I never found it disconcerting and these dreams usually don't have any music. I wish I could record some of them, because they're seriously scary and I love horror movies. I guess this is what happens when you have a wild imagination like mine. It's still working when my body is already fast asleep.


6) I used to walk like a duck
Ask my mom. I used to put one foot directly in front of the other in a weird way. But I never had any difficulty walking. It was just weird. But then when you're folding clothes and you decide to just walk around wearing your dad's underwear on your head for fun, most people won't notice small things like this.

It's been a long but interesting week. I haven't been sleeping much lately and my body feels like it's running on empty. People used to tell me I could go with less sleep but I wouldn't believe them, but I think now I do. It's not so much a matter of what we want, it's a matter of slowly but surely slipping into a routine where you never really get around to sleeping.

I've been very busy with a project called car2go. Basically, it's a new concept by the Daimler group where they have a fleet of 200 smart fortwo cars which are available for rent in a city called Ulm. This is not like a normal car rental because you pay by the minute instead of based on distance travelled, and you can rent a car and then park it somewhere once you're done - none of that hassle of driving it back to the agency. So anyway, I got a firsthand peek into how the system works because I was translating test cases for the system. While translating this, it struck me how hard it is to use a website when you can't read the language it is written in. My colleagues kept on bombarding me with screenshots to translate (yeah, what can I say...I'm the kind of person who lets my mouse hover over the link and if it says .../gallery.html then I'm guessing that's where the pictures are!). After years of staying in Germany, I find it normal that I can speak and write in German. Just yesterday, I was finished with work and I was walking past the meeting room and I saw a glimpse of the woman who used to teach me German so I popped in for a short chat. For a moment, she wasn't sure who I was, but when we both spoke in German at the same time, I think it was pretty clear who I was. I ended up talking to her for a whole 30 minutes (entirely in German) and neither of us were fumbling for any words, so it was something which I'm rather proud of. The funniest part came when it was time to go (actually, I was supposed to meet my girlfriend for dinner, but I was talking to my German teacher because I haven't seen her in years). Two things happened. First of all, the nepalese security guard (who smiles at me every morning because I always yawn when I come to work) passed by the meeting room, noticed the door was ajar and took a peek at us. He looked inside and realized we were speaking German then screwed up his face when he recognized me. It was a very cute Mr. Bean-like face..."Ehhh! Why you speak funny" expression. The second thing which happened was when my teacher's students walked in. She promptly said: "Er war mal mein Schüler. Er ist mein Produkt. Ein sehr gutes Produkt, muss ich sagen..." ["He was once my student. He is my product. A very good product, I have to say..."]. They just blinked, sat down and listened to us speak to each other. I've never really been called a product, except by my mom who laughs when people say that my older brother and I look alike. Then she just says "Well, they came from the same factory,". But it was a warm feeling, knowning that I finally have some sort of real skill in a foreign language. My work requires a lot of concentration and the work is very sporadic, but there are nice moments when I get feedback saying that my translation has helped people understand things, or that my translations are actually better than those produced by the expensive (30 Euro a page!) in-house translation service which our company provides in Germany.


But the best part was at the end of work today, when I was waiting for the elevator to come. There's 6 elevators, but they always seem to take forever. So I'm standing there alone, adjusting my headphones...when three of the female interns from Germany walk out. The elevator arrives, we all walk in and they start talking. The conversation goes like this:

"Endlich, das Wochenende!" (Finally,  the weekend!)
    "Yeah, jetzt können wir der Herd ausprobieren..." (Yeah, now we can try out the stove...)
"Wir haben reichlich Tomaten, machen wir mal Tomatensoße," (We've got lots of tomatos, let's make tomato sauce,)
   "Ja, aber vorsicht...der Herd knarzt immer...vielleicht magst du das machen?" (Yes, but be careful, the stove always crackles, you wanna try?"
"Nee, schau mal hier..." (nope, look at this)
   "Boah, wo kommt das denn her?" (whoa, where did you get this?)
"Nicht vom Herd. Das ist vom Bügeleisen..." (Not from the stove, it's from an iron)
   "Das ist ja süß!" (That's so cute!)
"Hmm...nicht wirklich. Ich hab hier noch eins. Ist schon drei Jahre alt." (Hmm...not really. I have another one here. This one's 3 years old)

So yes, three German interns are afraid of the gas stove in their apartment. And then one pulls down her sleeve to show off her scars. It's hilarious. To the rest of the world, they could be talking about the latest in fashionable tattoos, and I'm the only person in the elevator who understands. Towards the end, the iron girl kind of caught on, I think. Because I was smiling at all the right parts. But then again I had headphones on, so she probably thought I was just staring at her because I've never seen European girls before :D
 

"I want to sink to the bottom with you
        the ocean floor is big and blue"

I woke up this morning feeling tired. It's been a long time since I've actually been refreshed after sleeping. I like that sharp, crisp sensation when my mind and body wakes up (one after the other ^^), and I'm actually ready to do something. I remember a lot of times where I woke up like that, just to roll back into bed, but that's just how I am. I find myself not being able to sleep properly, which is sad, because I'm a pig. I'm supposed to be good at eating and sleeping. When I was talking to my younger brother, he even said, "You wake up sometimes in your sleep, say one sentence and then go back to sleep. I don't know what the hell you're saying, but it sounds like your job is stressful." My job isn't exactly very easy, but I've been having a lot of other problems, and they're slowly coating me with a fine dust of sadness. I hate it when there's so many little things to consider. Everything I do could hurt someone I care about. Maybe it doesn't seem like it, but sometimes, I actually do think before I act. It feels lonely, to have to consider how other people feel, when I know they will probably never see what I'm doing. I used to work as a system administrator, and it's a job where you're close to invisible. When you're doing a good job, things runs smoothly and nobody even knows you're around. But when something malfunctions, then everyone blames you. I still help people with their computers sometimes, but I spend a lot more time fixing peoples' feelings.

"Well I guess what you say is true
        I can never be the right kind of girl for you...
              I can never be your woman. I can never be your womannnnnn"

I don't even know why these lines popped into my head, but I really remember the girly voice of the guy who sang this song. I was in the car, driving through Universiti Malaya after dropping off my brother and I was happily singing this and pretending I had a tudung on. I usually can translate pretty fast, but lately, I find myself doing a paragraph or sentence in the same time I once used for a page. I like translating because I can work on the words and slowly filter the meanings so that other people may also understand them the way I do. I was actually kind of depressed until this song started playing in my head:

"She's taking time making up the reasons
To justify all the hurt inside
Guess she knows from the smiles and the look in their eyes
Everyone's got a theory about the bitter one
They're saying, "Mama never loved her much"
And, "Daddy never keeps in touch
That's why she shies away from human affection"
But somewhere in a private place
She packs her bags for outer space
And now she's waiting for the right kind of pilot to come
And she'll say to him
She's sayin

Sod it! I'll drive the car, you useless bastard!"

There are times when I feel sad and there are times when I feel happy. But I'm always thinking of the woman whom I love.

I think I finally figured out what's wrong. I keep on putting my own needs in the bottom drawer while I do things to make other people happy. I feel like slapping myself (yes, I know it's funny, but it also hurts, and I'd feel tempted to dodge).

I am a contradictory person by nature. I will agree to what you say, and yet I will always have my own opinion which can be totally different. I like going out, but I also like staying at home. My weekends intersect with the lives of so many other people, and though it feels like I’ve always been like this, I can remember the times when I was perfectly happy – just me and a book. I was cleaning out my stuff the other day because I was looking for some papers and I found a clear plastic case designed to hold namecards. It was filled to the brim with old movie ticket stubs. I remember watching “Arlington Road”, “In the Mood for Love” and so many other movies, all alone. It never occurred to me that watching movies alone might be sad or lonely. The movies which I’ve watched with others have a different feel to them, but I believe that to truly enjoy a good movie, I have to close myself off from everything else and just devote myself to the movie. I’m not the kind of person who brings in food or drink to a movie. They’re just accoutrements. I find my eyes following the camera and I never really think ahead to see what might happen in the movie. I just watch. Sometimes, I cry without realizing it because the feelings presented to me seem so real. And this is how it is for me right now. I am in love with a beautiful young woman who doesn’t really know she’s beautiful (I do, but it took quite a few coincidences for this knowledge to finally get through my thick skull). I want to see more of her, and I look forward to being with her whenever I can. I would like to spend more time with her alone, because then she can slowly relax and be herself. I see things in her I don’t think anybody else has ever bothered to look for, and it’s touching. There’s a gentle softness in her eyes which tells me that she’s been waiting for someone to just reach out and hold her. I may not be the world’s most reliable man, but if there is one thing I am good at, it must be making someone feel loved. I don’t mind going out with her and meeting her friends because it’s a chance to get to know her better, but the few moments which we spend together – just the two of us – are marked by this wish that time would stop so we would never have to part. Whoever said that parting is such sweet sorrow is a liar. 8:30 becomes 9 and finally it’s time to go because the last bus is already on its way into the night. I don’t know how she can say goodbye. When I say it, there’s always this soft voice in my heart which says, “Please, won’t you ask me to stay a little while? Let’s trade glances, entwine our fingers and share some laughter and a smile.”
 

It hasn’t been very long, but for the past few days, I am reveling in the fact that I’m finally a *registered* boyfriend so to speak. My mom was kind enough to pretend she was being fooled by my lies. But it’s hard when reading the things she writes brings a smile to my lips. Sometimes, I read something which reminds me of her and I smile like an idiot and a part of me is surprised I can still feel like this. I haven’t been a very happy person, and I could only speak to my younger brother about it because at certain times, he has this amazing depth and he can understand anything which I say. Now that my mom knows, I feel a little lighter. I’ve never been good at pretending. It’s happy and sad that my mom said “I’m just glad you’re happy”. It’s happy because it’s nice to know that she understands, but it’s also sad because at some point, I think she knew what was going on with me and she must have been quite worried >< I guess I’m the typical “I should have given birth to a piece of char siew instead of you” son.
 

This morning, I woke up once again to that comfortable winter feeling. I can feel the cold winter air floating around me, but everything under my blanket is warm, crisp and toasty. If I breathe out now, tiny drops of frost will form above me. But it feels different now. Now I imagine her head resting against my chest and her hand still clasping mine. The blanket covering us feels soft, but not as soft as her hair against my skin like clouds brushing against the grey morning sky. There are many ways to keep warm in winter, but right now, I can’t think of any better way than this.

One of the nice things about working is getting money. I've never had a lot of it,  so I've always appreciated what little I have. After paying my mom the usual protection money and my brother his "upah pemandu". He used to be my driver, but now I drive to work in the mornings, a very strange experience indeed. I haven't had any accidents so far. But back to the topic of money, the very word paycheck invokes the idea of something more tangible than the electronic payslip I get every month. I think the closest I ever got to this was summer last year when I was working as an interpreter at this union conference. At the end of the two days, the man who hired me pulled out a suitcase of money, instructed his secretary to count it out, while I watched, eyes dripping greed. It was quite a lot of money, and the idea of a suitcase full of it is pretty decadent indeed. They paid me something in excess of a thousand, and it was a nice feeling, having all that money in my hands. Which is something I like about paper money. It's comforting, just like having a book in my hands.

The very first (and also last!) paycheck which I got while working at my first job was deposited directly in the bank. I wanted to buy a new phone, but it took me ages to do that. And now that I have my work clothes and a shiny black phone which appeared in The International (Detective Iggy Ornelas) there isn't much I want to buy. Actually there is, but I'm not sure whether I should be spending any money on these things, so I'm just going to do some speculative dreaming here...

I want a new pair of earphones. I like listening to music at times and earphones let me do this - undisturbed. Most people say the ear buds are intrusive, but I like the way all sound slowly dies away, and I only hear what I choose to. My old Koss plugs were great at this. So great I wouldn't even notice a large truck was trundling by until I felt it whizz past me on the street. I remember walking to uni every morning, and listening to the guitars in Ellegarden's "Space Sonic". I could literally feel every guitar riff injecting some life into my tired legs on those frosty winter mornings. And I still remember the first time I heard Vienna Teng with my old Koss plugs, I felt like the whole room was just blanked out. The soft tones of "Pontchartrain" suddenly seemed so much more defined and full of sorrow. I'm no audiophile, so I don't really know what to get. I just choose something within budget and functional. I've seen these Singaporean ones (Ear pump! Pam Telinga...even the name sounds funky xD) going for less than RM50, so I'm pretty tempted, but somehow, I still miss my old Koss plugs. I remember walking round like a madman in the Passau Media Markt (giant IT discount store) looking for headphones before finally settling on them.


Another thing which I've been looking at for ages...is a phone for my younger brother or maybe my dad (if I can ever persuade the man to carry one around, let alone use it). Kim Jee always ends up with hand-me-downs, so I think it would be nice to get him a nice, new phone. He's such a modest and practical kid, he puts all the money I give him straight in the bank...even my mom never worries about him. Someday, he'll be a responsible husband. From the way he eagerly agrees to use my current phone if I buy myself a new one, I can tell he's not opposed to the idea, but I really don't know what he'd like. Everything is too wasteful to him, and the basic phones are too...basic. After all, he's still using an ancient Nokia with the keypad markings absolutely worn away from SMS-ing. This is a man who once told me I'm not a heavy sms user and I used to send more than 70 a day. It's hard to choose stuff for my brother because we're just so different. And I'm a hopeless Sony Ericsson fanboy ><


Grocery shopping isn't really something I do very often nowadays, but I used to go shopping every other day when I was studying because I cooked daily. It would be fun to try out a new recipe someday, but I'm always so wasted when I get home, and I'm hardly home nowadays for dinner. When I do come back, it's always eat -> msn -> sleep. But cooking spaghetti carbonara was really fun. It felt nice to get it tasting quite nice, it wasn't as good as what my host mom cooked for us during summer holidays, but it's better than those fake stuff which they serve outside where they don't even bother using bacon. There's just something about cooking which I enjoy. I'm all alone in the kitchen, and it feels peaceful. So yeah, I'd love to buy some potatoes and make some simple dish one of these days.


My wardrobe is pitiful. I wear the same old T-shirts all the time. I think people can recognise me just from my olive green T-shirt with the names of the main religions written in german. It's a Christmas gift and it used to be tight on me, so I guess I have lost quite a bit of weight. When I walk around, I always like to look at T-shirts. I hate shopping for them here in Malaysia because it always seems to be a choice between nice design and good quality. There's hardly any way to compromise. The nice designs are mostly printed on super thin T-shirts which would hardly survive any abuse and those with soft, inviting fabric are usually monochrome and simple. If I could find a shirt saying:

"Sex is a game: Single Player AND Multiplayer"

I'd buy it on the spot. Though it would be hard to wear it out when I'm out for dinner with my mom T_T I dream of the day when people in Malaysia will be decked out in T-shirts which either have sublime typography or designs which look like they're woven from the fabric of our dreams.


Another thing which has been on my list of things to buy ever since I got back is swim trunks! I unceremoniously dumped both the hawaiian print shorts and the speedos when I was in Germany because I was strapped for suitcase real estate. So now I can't swim unless I borrow some from someone. Which is a real hassle. But swimming has always been something I've enjoyed, even though I haven't been doing much of it in the past few years. It's really fun to swim at night, when the water is warm, but if you go far enough from the shore, the water starts to get colder, and to glide across the line where both streams meet is a very nice feeling. Just lying on my back and staring at the milky night sky makes it twice as fun. There's a certain peace about being in the water. Floating about in the water, my thoughts usually
empty out of my brain and I feel more attuned to my body. This is when I envy videogame characters. It would be a strangely liberating thing, if I could just press a button and start running and continue running as long as I felt like it (or until the foolish guards have stopped searching for me) or swim indefinitely in the sea while reading (maybe I'd need a little umbrella to cover my book when it rains?).


Last but not least, I think I should start paying more attention to those car loan ads. And maybe learn more about cars. For the most part of my life, I've ridden in cars, buses and trains. And anyone who knows me knows that I am not afraid to walk to get somewhere, but maybe it's finally time to start driving so I can make her feel more secure and comfortable. It's no fun when you have to drive your boyfriend around (ahhhh, I have such a lovely chauffeur <3).

Where should I start? Well, first of all, I'm back in Malaysia. I finally finished *studying* computer science in Germany (yes, I actually did study!). Making my way back here was a very long and harrowing process. Mainly because I wanted to get back as soon as possible...and I only left myself three days to pack up everything in my room. I still remember the Hausmeister (supervisor) when he stepped into my freshly cleaned room and remarked "See, I told you the floors are white". I spent so many hours in that tiny space, just rolling around in bed, cooking with my trusty wok...but most of all, playing around with my laptop. I'm glad to say that the people in Passau are still alive and kicking without me, but I will miss the cold morning air, walking around the bustling campus and those moist chocolate muffins which kept me alive for the last two years.

Coming back was interesting, I guess. I came back for the woman whom I love but sadly, things didn't turn out very well. So now I'm back where I started. The thing that surprises me the most is how things still seem to be the same. The last time I came back, things seemed so different. But now, when I meet my friends, the sleepy, wistful feeling I used to have is gone. And I still don't give them any face. I'm sorry. I guess that's just who I am. Nowadays, I'm just a regular working adult (I'm sorry to insult all the rest of you by comparing myself to you in this way, but I know no other term for this). I wake up early, sleep at work, translate stuff from German into English and dream of the weekends. The weekends are like slivers of chocolate in an otherwise bland scoop of vanilla ice cream. I always plan to do so many things, but end up doing so little in the end. All I can say is, I value my time a lot more now.

I want to have more meaningful conversations. I want to actually be aware of my thoughts. But most of all, I wonder why I'm here.


ps: Manny, now that you can go back, you should! I'm not holding you back anymore now, am I? :D

It's been such a long time since I've last posted, so I'm not really sure what I should write about. The only interesting event in a while is that I'm back online. It gives you a whole new perspective when you have to consider what it is you need to do online since you're only going to be able to get online in the uni. My daily routine was, get up, fire up the pc, check my assignments, pack everything on the usbstick, then do whatever I had to at the uni(check mails, read newsgroup posts, etc...). And now I can just lie here on my bed and surf :)

It wasn't easy getting Net in my room. Nope. First, I had to buy 30 meters of patch cable and an 8 port switch, then I had to get four other people to agree to a common date for the actual wiring work. Luckily enough, I managed to get ahold of Tom, an old hand at installing networks and stuff, and he walked me through the whole procedure. The hardest part was threading the cable through the attic....when you have knots in the cable you need to pull out, untangle it and do it all over again....not to mention there was no labelling in the attic at all, so I had to hunt out the cable by sound (good thing I didn't watch any horror movies the week before). After getting the cable done, the other four whose rooms the cable was going through got together and decided to get Internet too (why didn't they tell me earlier???) and so I ended up helping them on Friday. Took 3 hours but now everyone's online.

Been studying...or trying to, at least, and it strikes me how little has changed. I still study like mad a few days before the exam. Does life ever really change? *my fridge is empty except for a kiwi, an orange and some cake*

Almost forgot that it was Valentine's Day until someone reminded me. Feels kind of pointless this year. I usually have something up my sleeve this time of year, but this time I was just too lethargic to try anything. The snow hasn't let down at all. A friend of mine who drives back home to Munich on the weekends found his BMW snowed in on Friday:

"I walked up to my car, and there it was buried in snow. So, I clawed my way in and started the engine. The thing wouldn't move, not an inch. Sat there for 5 minutes feeling like an idiot. Then I saw a shovel leaning against the shed in a nearby house and I went to borrow it. 30 minutes later, the owner of the shovel was standing beside me and we finally dug my car out a little while later. But I didn't want to call you, I knew you were busy with the cable and stuff."

It's nice to have friends who actually say stuff like that :)
People here actually knock before they enter.....

I'm feeling the old itch again. Somehow, I feel the need to speak english. And be understood.

:)

whew...after days of debugging and rewriting, I finally have my program up and working like it should (hoffe ich zumindest!). Still have to streamline the code and comment the whole thing, not to mention run the final set of test to guarantee the functionality is complete... The utility class alone already takes up 100 lines of code, the admin class and the receiver take up another 250 each..not to mention a bunch of smaller classes. Somehow, it's been exhausting but fun. Everytime I tried to sleep, I kept on thinking of how to get my program working. Once, at around 1 am..

*hmm...I should have buffered before doing the switch! Aha!*
*Should I get out of bed and write it down? Otherwise I might forget it by tomorrow morning...*

(turns on light, puts on glasses)
*Hmm, might as well program it right now...*

In the end, I fixed the small problem and some others I hadn't noticed before...but at the cost of my sleep (finally got to bed at around 3). I guess I'm a perfectionist and I can't stand not knowing why something doesn't work. Luckily enough, one of the guys in charge of this course is really nice (but the other is a real asshole). It's always funny to watch them harmonise during presentations, the nice one will try to explain everything in simple terms, and the asshole will cut him off and issue terse sentences which can only be understood if you've been programming all your life. Once again, I can't help but notice: it's not your programming skills that matter. You may have lines and lines of elegant code, but if you don't understand or can't explain the concepts you used to someone else, then it's not worth much.



http://www.fmi.uni-passau.de/~fong/
*link to my programming theme song...keeps me awake. I don't drink coffee and hot cocoa makes me want to snuggle up in my blanket and fall asleep*

Finally, I am a student. I guess it took a while to sink in. It's fun(ny?) being a student. I'm actually learning stuff that's interesting and I actually study nowadays (okay, I still download tons of manga and I played No One Lives Forever 2 till 2am, but who's counting?). And twice a week, I give english tuition. It's really gratifying to actually be able to help someone else learn the language :). Somehow, I can't imagine myself working in a job where all I do is program stuff...the human side of things. So many things we learn now are just abstract concepts without much contact to real life. Wonder how all this will be of use to me once I'm done studying (if I ever finish...). All around me, I see people with so much skill and know how, but so little ability in sharing this knowledge. It's kind of like how long it took phone manufacturers to catch on that voice dialling is more intuitive than pushing some buttons. And even today we see a multitude of nifty, but not really useful features...

Oh well, I haven't posted for a long time, but here are two interesting (and funny...) events that happened a while back:

Event 1
(Kapfinger Wohnheim - the corridor in front of my room)
It's a normal boring Monday. Just finished discussing the exercise which I have to pass up on Wednesday with my partner Christian, who stays only three rooms away. I start up my little red pot and get ready to cook, but before I can measure out the pasta, two things happen:

a) my phone beeps...aha! new SMS.
b) *knock* on my door

Thinking that it's probably Christian with the answer to the second part of the exercise, I open the door without checking first. Lo and behold, a cheery white man stands before me. What have we here? He's wearing a nice suit and has a slick black nametag saying "Elder Meier"...*not good*. As you may have already guessed, he's a christian (but not Christian..haha). He starts off in shaky german and then quickly asks whether I understand english. Relief permeates his whole being once I tell him english is my mother tongue. After a little small talk (where do you come from? Do all malaysians speak such good english? - it's hard to shoo people away when they're complimenting you so often), we come to the gist of the issue :

"Could you spare some time to listen to our message?" *it's REALLY important and could save you* (sure, he didn't say that, but it was written all over his earnest smile).

At this point, I know I have to say "No" clearly otherwise he'll just keep at it till I give in. So, I say:
"Well, it was worth a try, but I'm pretty much immune to religion. A few weeks ago, the Jehovah's Witness were here and next I'll probably get the mormons too.".

Well, this seemed to satisfy him. Or so I thought. To fill up the awkward silence, I say
"The mormons are a pretty weird bunch, but you seem like an okay sort. If the mormons came by, I think I'd just shut the door and hide till they leave."
"Why are the mormons weird?"
"Well, they're more like cult members and they're weird. You can just tell. They radiate this strange aura."

If you haven't already guessed, this guy was in fact a MORMON. Silly me. Oops.

*Cheery white man, smiles and points to his nametag 'Church of the Latter Day Saints'"
"Well, we are mormons *grin*".

Now I feel so embarassed that I could just kill myself. But since he's taking it so well, I swear to really listen to the next mormon who comes along (maybe...I don't believe in oaths, but if she was a really...*ahem*...convincing mormon, maybe). His partner next door gets a rude door in the face and the three of us stand there in the semi-lit corridor and talk a little while before I finally send them off with a "No, I'm really not interested, I have assignments up to here *draws line at eyeball level*". I really admire people who can go door to door in winter and do this stuff. And accept insults from people like me and still smile.

Event 2
(in the aquarium, FMI)
Sitting at a PC checking my mails and in runs Matthias, a friend of a friend. Shakes my hand and asks:

"Where's Maxi?"
"No idea.."
"Can you help me?"
"Sure."
"Well, this friend of mine has a problem with his notebook. He keeps on getting porn sent to him over his Bluetooth connection."
"Haha, what's the problem? It's free, right?"
"You think you could help him?"
"I guess."

Out we go to the cellar and there it is, his friend shows me his My Pictures folder and it's filled with tasteful pictures of Carmen Electra in wisps of cloth so thin they'd be gone if I sneezed.

"So, the thing is, I'm sitting in the lecture hall and turn my notebook on, and I keep on getting all this porn..."
"You don't like porn...?"
"ermmm...well, it'd be nice if I could turn it off, it's kinda distracting.."

After some fiddling around with the Bluetooth settings, we discover his computer is open to ALL devices...aha.
But if it was me, I don't think I would have turned the option off.... :)

I really wonder what I've been doing these past few days.
Feels like the Earth has made two full turns without me.

Been trying (well, not very hard as usual, but that I'm trying at all is something, by my standards at least) to write this program to test whether a number is prime. Read the formula (pseudocode) over and over, the algorithm looks relatively simple on paper.....heck, they even gave us an example of the functional implementation (haha, not allowed to write it as a recursive function though). I've got the shell up and running, the random numbers are landing in the right range, my short function for finding the greatst common divisor is spiffy and I can almost claim I understand the russian peasant multiplication I'm using. The only thing that I still have to do is to implement the Miller-Rabin idea to unmask those evil Carmicheal numbers (ok, maybe I'd still need to do some tuning to avoid a stack overflow later, but I'd be happy to be that far now). Sometimes, I really wonder why I chose to do this (the voice in my head says I should have signed up for some baking/cooking course) and then I flip the lights in my room to watch "Advent Children" and then it's all clear to me. Maybe I'll never be able to do anything like that in my life, but the idea that computers can create something so eerily lifelike, is something that makes me want to continue trying. I miss life in Malaysia now. Everything was so easy back then. I don't remember having to study at all. Ha Ha Ha. Okay, maybe I'm not doing that much studying now either, but I try my best. So many things just keep on getting in my way. Shiny new notebook, teflon coated wok, fragrant new chocolate (Feinherb ala Mousse au chocolat - I love the people who make Ritter Sport) and all these thoughts of love swimming around. Some things never change I guess.

Had so much time, I actually went and modified the Fedora Core wallpaper so now I have a Fedora bored? wallpaper for my XP background :)

Spent the first seven I earned already :)

Went out with Verena, and saw "Night Watch" (oder eben "Wächter der Nacht"). Since the film was showing at 10:30, we had some time to kill. Walked to the cinema and checked the schedule out, yup - 10:30. So we walked past the Zakk and dove into a nearby cafe (Schachpartner gesucht, ab 1800). On the doorstep, there sat this well-fed cat with a beautiful coat of fur, just begging us to let it in. but the workers standing right next to the entrance told us we couldn't let it in :(

Ordered a hot chocolate and a mango juice. Verena's mango juice was so thick the straw stood absolutely still when the waitress brought it to our table. After chatting a little, we looked at our watches...9 o clock, still lots of time to go. We ran through the possiblities (or rather she did, since I'm not really familiar with the Passau nightlife) and finally decided on the Cafe Pharao. The place was really comfortable, low tables with cushions everywhere and nice rugs. The reason we chose this place was because Verena had suggested I try out the shisha. Sat down and stared at the menu : "capuccino, apple, orange, melon, caramel, banana, mint..." and the list goes on. Never tried shisha before so I chose banana, just for the heck of it. Well, it was an interesting experience alright, soft grey smoke with a light banana aftertaste upon exhaling. I think I actually liked it. Sitting there, we got to talking about films, and before we knew it, it was time to go. Bought tickets and stepped into the dark hallway leading to the cineplex..... Lights off, show already on (we missed the preview, but that's cause we were deceived by the evil sign "Entrance...at the Inn Promenade ("Eingang.....am Innpromenade"). Story was interesting but was ultimately overshadowed by the special effects. what can I say, first russian effort I've seen. Felt much better after going out, since I was wondering whether I should start with the programming already. I need more friends here, I think :)

-Michi...wieso bist du nach Erlangen umgezogen? Ich brauch dich hier :) Bis jetzt habe ich gerade noch geschafft, xmms zum laufen zu bringen.

Of all the people I know, I seem to be the most stupid. I never cease to amaze myself :)
Everytime my life's on track (well, somewhat...I mean it took me this long to start studying), I tend to have this uncontrollable urge to do something stupid. I've done so many stupid things in this life, I can hardly keep track of them all. Those of you who know me, should be acquainted with the more spectacular ones (no, I'm not going to name any, there's not enough space here to list them all and I'm not even going to start).

Right now, I'm sitting in the uni, trying to figure out what I should do (besides trying to make my Fedora Core 4 easier to use for a linux newbie like myself) to get a new girlfriend. All suggestions are welcome. Eventually, when I have enough time, I'll probably make an application form (pdf) with all the input I get from anybody reading this post...

All you slackers who read this blog but never comment, here's your chance to show off your wit/intelligence (or the lack thereof).

ps : Please be original...!