January 28, 2011
How do you know if your boss is a good boss?
Is it when he gives you a voucher during a festive season for a free meal of antibiotic laden chicken in a fast food restaurant?
Is it when he asks a couple of office clowns to haul a crate of wrinkled mandarin oranges to distribute to the whole lot of you?
Or is it when he sends out a lame ass email with an animated .gif that is oddly big in size wishing you and your family (whom he doesn’t even know) a pretentious warm seasonal greeting?
You only know your boss is a good boss at times of crisis. At times of crisis, instead of blaming his employees for the mistake, he owns it up for them. Own up not because he’s trying to be a fucking hero, but because he believes that when any of his people fails, the whole team fails, and that’s parked under his leadership, and he’d look forward to fix that up. And to fix that up, that doesn’t mean to yell at that person, but to evaluate how he’s going to manage it differently, to fine tune the results.
It’s not easy to be a good boss. That’s why they are hard to come by. And they don’t just go around the office to distribute oranges and shit to buy themselves some reputation. It’s just an age old shtick to hide their stink.
So remember, don’t be so fucking stupid and gullible. Those oranges given by your boss should not mean anything to you and don’t chalk it up to them being a nice person, because they aren’t.
Have a great Chinese New Year. Drive safe.
January 24, 2011
One of the immediately noticeable challenges I faced when taking care of my daughter alone, was story telling – with a Chinese book. I have been telling stories all these while to my daughter Regine, but only in English. My wife covers the Chinese department. But my daughter – obviously missing her mom very much – wanted me to tell stories from a Chinese book. More like a comic actually. Being illiterate in Chinese, I struggled to meet that demand just by figuring out the pictures like an archeologist studying hieroglyphics from an alien civilization. I managed to scan one of the stories below (after the jump) – you guys try to figure out, see if you can get it right. (I eventually gave up, and my daughter ended up telling me the story herself)
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January 16, 2011
My wife Emily was called to an overseas business trip for a week and departed the country 2 days ago. To many people, this would seem like an ordinary thing, but to my 4.5 year old daughter Regine, this means that for the first time ever in her life, she never gets to sleep beside her mother and never gets to see her for more than a day. That’s like me losing the lower half of my torso and both my arms.
I thought I could handle this task of taking care of my daughter, taking a cue to improve our bond in the process. But after just barely 2 days of being with her, I realized that I am no substitute of a mother’s love. My daughter’s not the same like when Emily’s around. She’s trying to act normal, but I know she’s just trying. When she thinks I am not around, she’d talk to my wife’s photo and kiss her belongings. Occasionally, I’d see a rogue tear or two rolling down her cheeks, but she wouldn’t cry because I had told her people her age are badasses and do not cry. It makes me just so sad seeing her like this. This whole business of having a kid, it’s really not for amateurs. I’m emotionally stretched to the limit here.
Here’s a picture of her in the park today. Had to bring her to the park, to take her mind off things.
Feigning happiness in the park for a few hours.
January 10, 2011
When I first joined Company Y, I was already made to involve in several key projects around the stinkhole. One of the projects in particular, was at its beginning stage and all its team members were a bunch of dead fucking serious no joke kind of people. Working with them was like a Jew working for a bunch of elite SS Nazi guards. A totally ‘potong stim’ kind of experience.
And then there’s this guy in the team called Larry, a very experienced elder engineer with a straight face. He has a deep dark voice and never smiles. Whenever the guy was at a meeting, he would just stay quiet. If he ever talks, it would only be short and terse comments. Gave me an impression that he’s too stucked up in the ass to socialize like a human.
That went on for like, a few weeks until one fine Friday night – I was hanging out at this watering hole with my friends, boozing and half drunk as usual, when I saw Larry at this same place we were boozing. If I was sober then, I would have totally ignored that fucker but alas, I was not. So I rowdily yelled out at Larry – “Hey Larry! How’s it going man? Woo hoo!”. He naturally ambled over, also half drunk, and started bitching about how his boss was such a dick to him and something more (I couldn’t register with my half addled mind). But I remember myself telling him this – “Hey man good to see you here. I never thought you’re cool enough to booze at places like this…” I didn’t know why I said that but, it was done in an drunk-honest kind of way and totally not gay at all.
Then came the Monday after the weekend, I was sort of half embarrassed about the encounter with Larry… you know, because after all, we were all supposed to be serious or some shit like that. So I never said a word about that night to him when I saw him… until Larry came to me and said in jest – “Hey Michael, why are you working so hard here? Let’s go boozing!”. And he was never the same again after that day. We started to work like how team mates should be. We often bantered around and exchanged dirty jokes. Just a couple days back, he expressed how he wanted to have a tit-fuck with the busty office admin, and then to also doggy fuck her while smacking her ass.
Now who would have thought Larry is actually a normal person like me? Instead of a person like what I originally perceived him to be? And strange enough, it was the booze that made all of these possible.