Hello World,

You've been sending me parcels of Grey Skies and Rain the past few days. I'd just like to inform you that I have received the parcels, and there appears to be a problem with the order.

In reference to my PO no. 1001, I ordered Everyday Blue Skies. The Grey Skies you sent has caused a slight raucous in my workplace. Job efficiency has dropped by 15%, while the number of absentees has significantly increased. This is unacceptable as the reason I placed an order for Everyday Blue Skies was to affect the exact opposite effect. 

Also, the Rain that you sent was too large in quantity. Its arrival has thus caused great chaos. The workplace is experiencing visual obstruction, slow traffic, damaged shoes, and dampened spirits.

The week is almost up. I need you to rectify this problem by early Monday morning. These mistakes have caused me and my colleagues much unpleasantness and additional monetary costs.

Please advice your counter measures.

Thank you.

Regards,
KL Man

I've found almost everything ever written about love to be true. Shakespeare said, "Journeys end in lovers' meeting." What an extraordinary thought. Personally, I have not experienced anything remotely close to that, but I am more than willing to believe Shakespeare had.

I suppose I think about love more than anyone really should. I am constantly amazed by its sheer power to alter and define our lives. It was Shakespeare who also said, "Love is blind". Now, that is something I know to be true. For some, quite inexplicably, love fades; for others love is simply lost. But then of course love can also be found, even if just for the night. And then, there's another kind of love. The cruelest kind. The one that almost kills its victims. Its called unrequited love. Of that I am an expert. 

Most love stories are about people who fall in love with each other. But what about the rest of us? What about our stories, those of us who fall in love alone? We are the victims of the one-sided affair. We are the cursed of the loved ones. We are the unloved ones. The walking wounded. The handicapped without the advantage of a great parking space! Yes, you are looking at one such individual. And I have willingly loved that man for over three miserable years. The absolute worst years of my life! The worst Christmases, the worst Birthdays, New Year’s Eves brought in by tears and Valium. These years that I have been in love have been the darkest days of my life all because I've been cursed by being in love with a man who does not and will not love me back. Oh god, just the sight of him! Heart pounding, throat thickening. Absolutely can't swallow.

It took 2009 to realise that 2008 was awesome!

In 2008, at one point I was a student, an intern, an employee, and a freelancer all at one go. I had flings, I dated, and I also committed. I got full use of a spare car, I wrote a short story, I completed my degree course earlier than mapped out by my course counselor, I made great friends, I achieved monetary goals, I took up an array of classes and courses, I was in a band (even if only for a couple of weeks), I even took on a stray Ferrari 599 GTB Fiorano with the muscle of a Mitsubishi Evolution 8 (yes, it must be said, that this was the highlight of the year). 2008 deserves a pat on the back.

2009, on the other hand, sure hasn't packed that much of a punch. Graduation was the biggest waste of six hours I had ever spent at any event, hands down (even driving to Kuantan and back for no reason would have been more gratifying). I'm single. I crashed the spare car. I got three short stories running on no substance. I have less time to spend with my great friends. Running a startup means that I'm spending way more money than I'm earning. My array of classes have dwindled to two and yet I feel the strain. I have no band. I have no access to any vehicle that can compete with even a Satria GTI.

2009, you have another three and a half months to prove your worth.

Men. Hot-wired for going forth and multiplying.

Women. Hoards, protects, and nurtures by instinct.

Marriage. A pandemic disillusionment.

If men, by order of evolutionary purpose, are inclined to spread their seed far and wide, and women can't suppress their inner calling to protect what's theirs by interfering with man's philandering ways, then marriage of the two opposing forces appear a grave mistake.

In life, I want it all. I want wealth and health. I want education and beauty. I want food and fitness. I want a sensitive manly man. I want a rationally irrational manly man. I want a driven, purposeful man with time to spare. I do want it all.

Think about it. If men are essentially the same from when the world began then, taking into account elementary and evolutionary changes, traditional men are the ones most likely to wear wedding ring marks into their wallets. Can't blame them. It's in their blood. So then maybe men who are more in-tune with their emotions, have a greater tendency to hoard, protect, and nurture i.e. effeminate, make better candidates for monogamous relationships? Because of the traditional man's inability to accept monogamy, and the traditional woman's inability to allow for polygamy, marriage of the traditional couple makes for an unhappy union built on discontent. Maybe now is the time for the hybrid couple. Feminine meets feminine, masculine meets masculine; no one makes up for anyone's shortcomings. And I don't get it all after-all. 

Life's a bitch. Watch YouTube.

Nothing goes better with a piping hot chocolate brownie than vanilla ice cream, nothing gets out the aftertaste of a bad date better than beer (and lots of it), and nothing washes away the long hours of the day better than a hot shower.

Switch on the heater, run the water for a minute. That first step under the shower head would feel like a Coca Cola ad: "Ahhh." The water's gentle caress wipes away those motorcyclists who, after years of self-loathing, have apparently forgotten that their bikes come equipped with brakes. The constant pounding sprays on the shoulders massages away the one hour of persistent trying to get through a government department helpline that finally wasn't of much help anyway. The stream cascading through portions of hair and scalp tickles away the wet shoes from today's erratic downpour, washes away the half hour of waiting in line just to save RM3, and swiftly blocks out the waiter who called me aunty.