The Cities Of The North

It seems like much of the travelling I do these days is for work. I was visiting Ipoh and Penang a week ago. Tomorrow, I'll be off again - this time, to a "peaceful" land (read what you will into that).

Now, all this travelling for work may sound like some fancy jetsetting life but trust me, it's far from it. First of all, I barely go anywhere by flying. And when I do, it's ALWAYS by budget air. Secondly, there's nothing fancy about my destinations. Penang is probably the best place I can look forward to visiting. And of course, travelling for work is really about work. So there's no such thing as going sightseeing and such except for whatever I might be able to squeeze into the evenings.

So it was that my trip to Ipoh was packed with meetings. Across half the state, in fact. Definitely didn't have time to stop for any sights, natural or otherwise. I decided to spend the night in the refurbished station. Poor choice, because the rooms weren't as refurbished as the exterior. Of course, if dodgy uncles roaming the garden outside your window is your kind of thing, then you may like it for it's erm... convenience. For me, I was left to wonder where the famously smooth-and-white-as-tofu-skinned boys of Ipoh had all gone to. Probably KL. Tsk tsk.

I kinda wished I had just gone ahead to Taiping for the night. The air's fresher there, and the food is not only good, it's amazingly cheap. Maybe next time, then.

Penang was more of a dissapointment, workwise. I spent a good deal of time running around, rescheduling and ultimately getting ffk-ed (stood up) by half of the people I had made appointments with. Horrible manners, these people of the North. So having to deal with all this meant that I only had time to hunt for DVDs. And eat. And buy tau sar peah. And eat. And go for body attack, body balance, and body jam. And eat. And catch up with my ex-housemate. And eat. And eat. And eat.

Hey, one still has to eat while one's at work, no?

Coming up next: What I ate

Never Was A Cloudy Day

Do you remember the 21st night of September?
Earth Wind And Fire : September

To be honest, I don't have a very good memory. Facts and figures from my history books just slide off my brain cells like water off a duck's back. I tend to remember concepts better. And the tales of the Ainulindale and the Quenta Silmarillion (even though they're arguably from a history book as well). Oh and song lyrics dating all the way back to the '80s.

This is one of the primary reasons why I blog. I do remember many of the events of my life, though I would hardly be able to say how long ago it happened. Blogging to me is really a way of keeping my own little Book of Records. It does help. At least now I can put a timeline to what I've been through. Or at least what I've gone through since the start of 2005.

Take for example, a year ago. Thanks to blogging, I remember exactly where I was that day, what I did, and what kind of place I had to be winched down into. I remember hitting the gym for a quick shower that evening, and catching an eyeful of, erm, whatever it is people would catch an eyeful of in the showers of one the most notorious gyms in the valley. I even remember the exact condition of my skin that day.

I remember dinner. What I ate, who I ate with. I don't remember what is was we talked about (because I didn't blog about it). But I do remember that we laughed as much as we ate - which was a lot.

And I remember this - it was a fine day. A happy day. A very happy day.

Drowned Glass, Reincarnate

I ask you, do you want to come and play?
Get the world to come and play.
So sit back, relax, fasten your seatbelts!
It's going to be a bumpy ride
To the other side...
Christina Aguilera : Enter The Circus

He takes a breath, drawing in the scent of evening air cleared by the late shower. Clean. Fresh. Alive. He takes a look about himself, appraising the lay of the land. Above the far horizon, the twilight bends, breaking into an arc of fragmented colors.

He sits. He smiles. He has come home.

Ah, the feeling of laying new ink on a fresh page. Alright. So it's actually the tapping away on the keyboard, making words materialise on a freshly reloaded screen. But the gist of it is there. It's the start of something new. Or, in this case, the continuation of something familiar in a new place.

There once was a blog called drowned glass. It's still there (at least for now). But I don't blog there anymore. Sometimes, a guy just needs to move on. And this is where I've moved to.

New blog, new name, still the same gay old me. Don't expect me to be any wiser than I've been. Or wittier. Or whatever-er. I'm just here to record my days in the hope of seeing where I've been, to get an inkling of where I'm going. If you care to come along for the ride, you're most welcome. I accept constructive comments, friendly gestures, fabulous gifts and most major credit cards (though cash is always preferred).

Ready? Then here we go!