In my recent work performance review, my boss told me that I am beginning to show some leadership skills, and it will be good for me to keep focus in that direction, to be able to advance to the management level… This is what he actually wrote in my review portfolio:

I see that Michael is turning into a more diplomatic and helpful person. He is encouraged to continue sharpen his soft skills in dealing with people and start to think as a [functional] member/leader to influence the WW team to achieve better results.

Well, I don’t really know why my boss thinks that I have the prospect to be part of the management level exec… because, to be honest here, the only 2 things I would enjoy if I imagine myself being a leader, would be:

a) the glamorous and handsome paycheck that comes with the post,
b) the thrill of yelling at my direct reports arbitrarily, oh that can be so fun.

But then, I guess that’s probably why he said I need to hone my soft skills of dealing with people to perfection first, which I think is loosely translated to - be kind to other people even though they’re assholes, and be more proactive in offering assistance to everyone, even if they don’t need it (just to look good). A little bit more practice is all I need. And I didn’t wait long to start an attempt to hone my skills… and it happened today…

The target was Milkboy, my lab technician, who came into the lab with a dejected look - after learning about the tragic news that he’s going to share a hotel room with the director at an outstation trip for a teambuilding event. So to say, he is fucked.

Now, on any given normal day, I wouldn’t have invested an iota of interest into anything to do with his private affair. But because I was determined to ‘hone my soft skills’, Milkboy’s doom kinda became an opportunity for me to shine. The ways of a leader, always lend a hand… So, I chose to give a fuck, and I gave him some helpful advice:

“Hey Milkboy.”
“Yeah”
“So you’re sharing the room with the director, eh?”
“…”
“You know, in case he touches you at night, remember not to scream, ok?”
“what the…”
“You can cry if you want, but just shed a teardrop or two in absolute silence. This can be a blessing in disguise. Your chance of skipping a few levels of promotion, which you’d definitely gonna need… you know what I mean?”
“!@#$%^&*”
“And I promise not to laugh if I happen to see you the next day running around like Jacky Chan…” [oh I'm sure you guys know how Jacky Chan runs...]

I think I did a great start. Caring for my peers, showing devotion, and helping them to cope with their problems. I think I’m gonna make a good leader, no shit… But I could still use some luck, so, wish me some if you’ve got any to spare…

Emily was hearing her housewife colleagues meting out each other’s glorious moments in their respective domestic quarrels in an automobile, when it came to her turn to tell her story. When my wife told them that she and I would usually go quiet after each quarrel inside the car, it garnered quite a reaction from the bunch.

I don’t exactly have the details, but I can imagine it go like this, “What? You’d just keep quiet?? No… girl, that will be too easy for your husband”.

I am not sure if this was for the good or bad, but it seems that they have their own idea of how to react each time they have a quarrel with their husband. From what I understand through Emily’s description, the reaction must possess following characteristics:

1) it must be something out of ordinary.
2) it must have the ’shock and awe’ element.
3) it must be done with style and glamor.
4) it must not be easy on your husband.

I then asked, “So what is it?”. I was thinking of something like jumping out of the car window and roll on the tarmac like a Hindustan stuntman (or in this case, stuntwoman), which kinda fulfilled the 4 big important criterias above, but it wasn’t.

Emily replied - “2 of them did this before - they actually asked their husband to stop the car, got out of the vehicle in a dramatic fashion and attempted to walk home.”

o_O”

My reaction - “That was fucking dumb.”

But surprisingly, their plan actually worked. It so happens that their husbands did go after them and wheedled them back into the vehicle, bloating them with pride and self confidence. And that was why, I reckon, the ladies failed to spot anything wrong with their acts.

“If it were to be me, dear, you can best bet your ass that I won’t come back after you. You can walk home sweltering under that hot sun, for all I care. I’m gonna go ahead and drive myself the fuck home.”

“You’re a heartless fucker. How could you do that??”

“If you look at it this way, I’m just fulfilling your wish of not wanting to be with me. Who knows, maybe you needed that moment alone to walk long distance home and cool off. If you don’t want to walk home, then don’t ask for it.”

“Maybe I should ask you to get out of the vehicle instead, and I DRIVE HOME.”

“Fine for me. I just need to make a couple of phone calls and I’d be spending the rest of the day happy-houring with my buddies at our regular pub in no time.”

“…”

Maybe we guys take things easier than the ladies. I don’t see the logic of doing things like that to your spouse. I for one, would definitely never do that. Threatening to walk home to force the situation in favor of you isn’t right. That is just spastic.

Going quiet is the best you can do if you have a quarrel inside a car. Mitigate the damage. Avert yourself from further confrontation lest you’d say something you might regret. Walking home alone on a highway can be very dangerous. You risks yourself of getting kidnapped by sex fiends, gang raped by rabid dogs or worse, run over by a garbage truck. It’s just not worth it. (well, unless you enjoy it…)

I had an unfortunate encounter last week in this locally franchised chicken rice outlet, which was run by an assortment of Banglas and Nepalese. I should have known that I was in for a really challenging time if I patronize that joint, but the situation didn’t permit me much choice, so I gave it a try anyway. I was with Regine and Emily, and after I’ve placed my order with one of the locals, Regine started to hit her high notes and I had to get her something to calm her down.

Plastic fork and spoon - they work all the time for my daughter (it escapes me why). So I flagged one of the waiters over. Tenzing the Nepalese attended to me and gave me this emotionless gawk. I then requested politely in English - “Can you please get me a plastic fork and spoon for the kid there?”

He went on gawking, but with a change of expression of a freaking out look. I could tell that he didn’t get a shit I said, so I switched to BeeEm - “Boleh bagi sudu dan fork plastik?” (I’m sure I didn’t say it quite correctly but, it was at least something 80% BeeEm).

He reservedly nodded for a couple of times and went off. It finally made sense to him, I thought, but I was wrong. Tenzing didn’t get it. Apparently, he went off to summon his Bangladeshi colleague - whom I would refer as ‘Jahangir’ - to check me out instead. Tenzing then bolted off to somewhere, his burden now transfered to Jahangir, who came to my aid with the same stupid gawk, with an addition of faked anticipation. So I had to repeat my request all over again, in English, with some emphasis of sign language - that I would like to have a plastic fork and spoon for my soon-to-go postal madcap daughter.

Like Tenzing, he nodded and disappeared, nowhere to be seen again. I was made to wait for the plastic utensils that never came, until my patience wears thin and eventually, got one of the shirking locals to get it for me.

The whole episode kinda left me perplexed (like who wouldn’t?) - if those foreign workers do not speak or understand the common spoken languages in our country, then why did they attend to me in the first place? Were they buying the odds of miracle that I could probably speak Bangladeshi or Nepalese? And which moron in his right mind allowed these people to man the outlet as front runners? (somebody could have at least appointed someone who COULD SPEAK AND UNDERSTAND something)

The whole thing prompted me to think - are we Malaysians really that short of labors that we need to get so many Banglas and Nepalese to do our chores? Or is it that we’re too conceited or lazy to give a shit about these menial works? Whatever it is, if the trend keeps going on like this, I’d foresee a near future where we would need Banglas to bless our weddings at churches, remove our tumors at hospitals or even run the goddamn government - because we Malaysians are too fucking lazy to do anything at all (and they’re so cheap to hire anyway).

This is so fucked up and definitely has to change.

I have been thinking today - oh how I hated Chinese fucking New Year. If it is about something, it has to be about spending money unnecessarily. The projected damage that Emily and I are getting this year, stands menacingly at about 700 bucks. Small amount, but considering the fact that they are to be spent for NOTHING, it’s a motherfucking lot of money. You see, most of the time, they are given away to obnoxious kids whom we hardly meet or particularly fond of. And those kids, would wish nothing of you except to bilk you off your money. They don’t really care if you’re his father’s cousin or that uncle who once saved the family dog’s life. They just want that red thing in your hand, and then you can disappear for all they care.

So, what’s the fucking point man? Where’s the love bebeh? If you were to ask me, I’d say I would rather spend those hard earned money on something that I feel worthy, like my daughter’s expensive formula (which costs about 100 over bucks per jumbo can - cheebyeee!)… or some exotic lens filters which I’ve been abstaining from getting for myself. But the custom dictates otherwise, and whoever that came up with the idea of distributing money to bribe ourselves some friends and relationships, ought to be hung and shot.

If this is all for turning the gaiety event up a notch, why can’t they have candies instead? Kids would go nuts for candies. Just like Halloween. They can dress themselves up or do funny things to amuse us, and based on their performance, we arbitrarily decide how many Tic Tacs to be dispatched on that those little tykes’ palms. Or maybe, we can judge them based on their final exam at school. Those that got good results, candies for them. Those that failed any subjects, will have to hoover that little green bug from grandma’s lawn there. (Come on, it’ll be fun)

If they’re too piss scared to eat little green bugs, well then, stay the fuck away from Uncle Michael! (And leave me a little peace).

No pain, no gain - kids should learn about that from young to better prepare them to face the bitterness of reality. But until that idea gets popular, perhaps I should think of a way to avoid this… like maybe, go for a vacation or something.

Yeah, I’m so gonna do that someday.

To those of you who have been following my blog since 2004, you should know what this is all about. Exotic names from China. That is, people from China who adopted Christian names for themselves. Here are the new ones I spotted from one of the directories (the surname was changed to default ‘Liu’ to preserve the anonymity of the individuals.)

Mango Liu –> I’ve seen a lot of these Chinese folks naming themselves after fruits. I wonder why…

Rainking Liu –> I bet this guy’s envisioning himself as one of the anime characters.

Rooter Liu –> It sounded like a cross between a rooster, and a hooker.

Runner Liu –> He makes a good office boy.

Cowit Liu –> A cow from IT department?

Jackal Liu –> Oooooo jackals are badasss.

Dream Liu –> Won’t make a good security guard

Mirinda Liu –> So, we’ve seen Fanta, and now Mirinda. What next? PowerRoot?

Ninja Liu –> An assassin without any disguise.

Simba Liu –> His dad is Mufasa, and his tagline is Hakuna Matata

Mouse Liu –> I wonder if his name was conceived from a real rodent, or that computer pointing device?

Donkey Liu –> Insult him, and he won’t have a choice to get mad “Hey Donkey! Come over here!”

Tree Liu –> He’s a little bit more than just a stump.

Mallet Liu –> Customized insult for him “Hey Mallet, you’re a tool”…

Babble Liu –> Gives the phrase ‘that babbling bitch’ a whole new meaning

Child Liu –> You can’t blame him for anything, coz he’s just a child. Wicked.

Jump Liu –> His brothers are Squat, Crouch and Teabag

Double Liu –> Imagine this “Hi, my name’s Double, and I’m still single”

Six Liu –> He’s probably the sixth kid in the family. You can guess the rest of his siblings’ names.

Jungle Liu –> You’d get malaria by just talking to him.

Flying Liu –> Otherwise known as ‘chasing the dragon’.

Alehandoo Liu –> A friend told me it was an alternate spelling for ‘ada hantu’.

Catbean Liu –> I wonder what’s a cat-bean. Cat’s testicles? Shouldn’t that be called ‘cat nuts’? Or ‘cat balls’?

Euphemia Liu –> Wow, that’s sophisticated man.

Yoyo Liu –> This is a name usually adopted by cats.

Polar Liu –> As long as he’s not bipolar… he should be fit to work.

Iceblue Liu –> You can tell from his name, that he’s trying to be cool.

Auditor Liu –> This is the motherfucker of all bizarre names. Who in their right mind calls himself an auditor?

and some other miscellaneous names that are totally bizarre and sounds so fucking out of place:

Njula, Sicaty, Karolar, Mumu, Setuis, Beank, Slook, Lalasa

Sounds like a bunch of space aliens that are bidding to take over our planet, don’t they? But these are real people who works in my company. As you can probably tell from the current and past lists, these engineers and executives from China know no boundary when it comes to naming themselves. They’d call themselves ANYTHING, just to get things going. And we still have a long way to go to achieve that standard… I have to give it to them man… like, totally.

*****
related entries:
Exotic names I
Exotic names II
Exotic names III