Damnit.

This is what I had to deal with last week. A tectonic-plate-slow Streamyx and a kaput WiFi. It's infuriating, to be honest, to try to use a computer without any sort of Internet connection whatsoever. I've lost count on the number of time I've forgotten this fact and opened Safari (Apple's standard Internet browser) only to be slapped in the face with the message "Safari can't open the page...blah blah blah". A call to TM had them sort out (i.e. make marginally less slow) the connection speed, but trying to massage the white Netgear wireless router to actually communicate with the Mac proved more time consuming.

Lots of prodding and browsing the manual diagnosed the problem - the router was inadvertently reset, deleting all the information needed to connect to the Internet. On Netgear routers, this information would have to be put back before wireless connectivity would be re-enabled. A few minutes of typing in the ISP details and putting up with a dependable-if-predictably-slow 5-year-old Dell and wireless internet was for everyone in the house to enjoy. I was understandably proud, to say the least. Bill Gates, eat your heart out.

Now, if you know me you might think I'm only interested in cars. Well, you're damn right. And obviously, being a car addict and just turned 17 I wanted to get a driving license. So two weeks ago I went for the Driver's Education Curriculum class in Nilai. This is a mandatory 5-hour course that is basically a prep for the theory exam. As expected, it covers everything from road signs to accident factors to demerit points. What I didn't expect, however, was the lecturer who goes by the name of Victor. While effective at teaching, he was an oddball, a Mr Thong of sorts. I mean, he started the class by introducing not only himself, but the rest of his family as well. And being from a race that originated from the land of Bollywood, his verbal and body language was nothing if not dramatic. He is, in short, a bit scary. If you see him as your lecturer, run.

A week after that decidedly haunting experience, I decided to put everything Victor taught me to the test. Literally. Because I had to go to Kinrara to sit for the theory exam. An objective paper (well, not exactly "paper", since the whole thing is computerised), it consisted of 50 questions divided into three parts. The first 15 questions are all about road signs, while the next 25 questions tested driving skills and ethics. The final 10 questions, on the other hand, ask about stress and the highway code, including driving licenses and demerit points. The best thing is, every one of those questions is a random selection from 500 preset questions. And they're all in a book that would be given to you. Together with all the answers.

Simple, you may think. I thought so too. Until a slight distraction in the form of my 10-year-old cousin staying overnight meant that even after all my efforts, I still couldn't finish studying for the test the night before. Under-prepared is an understatement.

So I arrived at Kinrara at about 8:30 (after hastily studying on the way there), expecting the whole issue to be done rather quickly. It turned out not to be.

You may have waited in a government building before. You might even think you feel my pain. But I'm afraid not. Yes, waiting in the government building is always an excruciatingly long process, but waiting in a government building for an exam? Frankly, I'd rather have done the exam in the Samad toilet. And there was no use to study - for me, the more I try to study at school on exam day, the more I forget. To make matters worse, I didn't carry my PSP with me. And I got a really bad cold. Enough said.

So, bored, irritated, unprepared and suffering from an increasingly leaky nose, I was finally let into the exam room at 10:30, worried that I'd actually flunk it.

And promptly came out again.

Soon afterwards, the blokes at the desk produced the results slip (very SPM-ish, no?). It read like this:

SEKSYEN A: 13/15

SEKSYEN B: 25/25

SEKSYEN C: 10/10

JUMLAH MARKAH: 48/50

MARKAH LULUS 42/50 

Best of all though, was the time taken: 10 minutes 23 seconds. Sticking to the motoring theme of this post, that means that in around the time it takes for Jeremy Clarkson to complete a full lap around the Nürburgring Nordschleife in a Jaguar S-Type (diesel, granted), I did 50 questions. That's even faster than EST.

Yes, I didn't get full score, but hell, I was happy.

With the result in the bag, I took the next step towards obtaining a license, which was to attend a workshop. Another mandatory course, it is split into two sessions - a three-hour theory (indoor) session and a three-hour practical (outdoor) one. The first session is similar to the first class I attended, but focused more on driving. But of course, being the JPJ, we had to wait. Again. This time though, I learnt my lesson and carried my PSP with me, so it wasn't so bad.

After quite a while they finally sent out an lecturer. And of course, being in the JPJ, he was Malay. What was funny, though, was the jacket he was wearing. It was black, with a JPJ insignia on one side. And on the other (like as if they'd sponsor them) was a cheap Nike iron-on badge. I had to twist my face to stop laughing it off.

Fake badges aside though, he was at least relatively funny, and much better than Victor. Even going so far as to make fun of his name, Hamdan. Which, in Cantonese is - of course - salted egg.

After this, it was time for the practical. No, I haven't been able to drive a car yet. At least legally. Anyway, this session was just to show the various parts of the engine bay, as well as to demonstrate changing tyres, using an actual Kancil as a volunteer. However, the bloke who taught us, Zul, forbid us blokes from participating in the session and relegated us to the seats instead, because it would be "too easy for the guys". So he let the girls participate.

Now that would be fine if they were actually smart. Instead, we had to sit there in frustration as the they tried to differentiate between a radiator and an oil dipstick (bearing in mind this was all taught just a few hours ago during theory). At least we got to choose which girl to embarrass.

Still, it all went well. After yet more waiting, we were let home. Now that I'm waiting for my L license, the next stage is, of course, driving. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be using the internet. Wireless broadband is fantastic, isn't it?

Tagged again?

I've recently been tagged by Philbert. It's called "Three Things". I don't think I need to do an introduction - the title itself says it all.

Three things that scare me.
i) That bloke who taught me the Driver's Education Curriculum. His many parrot-esque "MARI!!!"s are enough to haunt you for endless nights. Nice guy, though. Just...odd.
ii) Cockroaches
iii) That Astro woman. Her voice borders on psychosis-inducing.

Three people who make me laugh.
i) Philbert. One part insensitive berk, two parts pervert, ten parts brilliance.
ii) Top Gear. I know, but putting Clarkson, Hammond and May individually on the list would've filled it up. Besides, they're at their funniest when they're with each other.
iii) Lee Mack. Top-shelf comedian. Go search YouTube.

Three things I love.
i) Cars.
ii) Photography (Yes, I finally have my DSLR!).
iii) My Mac. Yes, my answers are the same as Philbert's. Shut up.

Three things I hate.
i) Horrible advertisements.
ii) Broken language on signs.
iii) That Astro woman.

Three things I don't understand.
i) Additional Mathematics.
ii) Hokkien dramas.
iii) Girls.

Three things currently on my desk.
i) My Mac mini.
ii) My PSP.
iii) My Sony α200.

Three things I'm doing right now.
i) Chatting with Philbert.
ii) Wondering why BMW always has such pretty receptionists at their functions.
iii) Studying for the theory driving test.

Three things I want to do before I die.
i) Go to London to be on the set of Top Gear.
ii) Have a really nice car. Preferably an Aston Martin.
iii) Be a designer.

Three things I can do.
i) Draw.
ii) Take pictures.
iii) Play a piano (vaguely).

Three things I can't do.
i) Play a violin.
ii) Do ballet.
iii) Get 11A's in SPM.

Three things I think you should listen to.
i) Rachmaninov's Prelude in C-Sharp Minor.
ii) Dr. Gregory House.
iii) Your parents.

Three things you should never listen to.
i) Me.
ii) The Government. I second Philbert on this.
iii) That Astro woman.

Three things I’d like to learn.
i) Play a piano. Properly.
ii) Driving (I will be, soon).
iii) Italian.

Three favourite food.
i) Beef noodles.
ii) Grilled Chicken Foldover.
iii) Two all-beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese, pickles, onions on a sesame seed bun.

Beverages I drink regularly.
i) Water.
ii) Kickapoo.
iii) Yogurt drink.

Three shows I watched as a kid.
i) Barney. Can't ignore a purple T-rex that is actually nice with kids.
ii) Teletubbies. C'mon, they're cute.
iii) Power Rangers. Okay, now I'm really embarassed.

Three people I’m tagging.
i) Priya.
ii) Suwarna.
iii) My sister.

National Disgrace

The other day I went to the Selangor Registration Department to collect my sister's IC. It was a painless process - take a number, grab the card, leave. Ten minutes at the most.

But it was during those ten minutes that I saw something that drove me up the wall. A sign.

It wasn't actually a sign, just a piece of paper people would usually print a short message on so as to avoid spending a few hundred ringgit on a proper signboard. That's fine. But what really raised my blood level was not the message it conveyed, the gaudy-coloured paper or even the cheap-looking speech bubble shape of the sign. It was how the message was written. I don't remember what it was about, but it started off - bearing in mind we are talking about a message on a sign of a government building in a major city - with this:

"Sekejap aje................."

And then I saw another one at the photo booth reading something like this:

"Semasa ambil gambar boleh duduk diam tak??? Bolehhhh.......hhhhhhhhhh........."

Now, before a Malay starts pointing fingers at me for being racist, I would like to make it clear that I'm fine with people talking like that in everyday life. I even have friends that text to me that way. I may not like that kind of lingo, but if people want to speak the way they want to speak, God has not yet created a creature or force that can stop them.

But this is ridiculous. Putting signs like that in a Malaysian government building is akin to stepping into the Pentagon to find hip-hop language in their signs.

Is this the image we want to portray? That Malay is our national language and even government officials can't use it properly?

We may be way past the age of ties, jackets, tweed hats and meticulously perfect Queen's English, but that doesn't mean we should speak like men in caves in 1325 B.C. At least their language wasn't broken.

Travelling through time

Chili's for birthday.

Yeah, chocolate-flavoured snot. Thanks, Pei Hau.

Anyway, last Saturday was my birthday. Now, I didn't want to do anything fancy this year, but then Priya called, saying she wanted an outing. Have to please a friend, no?

So fast forward a few days later, me sitting in a Starbucks outlet at the Gardens at five in the evening...


...with Philbert and his gorgeous new MacBook. I feel outdated already.




Now, being anal and suffering from a severe form of OCD, Philbert is very, very protective about his 'Book. Nevertheless I managed to have a go.


Soon, Starbucks turned into an impromptu studio. I whipped out my tripod and we started shooting, experimenting various techniques. Admittedly, however, they were mostly rubbish.



Eventually we got bored of taking pictures. So we went back to the Boulevard. And took some more pictures.




While I was busy taking pictures, Philbert caught a glimpse of Priya. So we decided to surprise her with our camera flashes. She was clearly not happy.



After a bit of a telling off, we were ushered into Chili's to meet up with the rest - Asmath, Beth, Brigette, Pei Hau, Choo Xiang, Suwarna, Amelia, Michelle and Ayesha.





The food was fantastic. Nachos for the appetiser, chicken quesadilla for the main course...

... and guess what we had for dessert.


Yup. A giganormous piece of Secret Recipe chocolatey goodness, brought out by some waiters singing "Happy Birthday". Which turned out to be kinda funny, because minutes later they carried another birthday cake to a girl sitting on the opposite table. Okay...



Needless to say, not a lot of the cake ended up in my mouth. Ayesha smothered my face with chocolate and, just as I've washed my face and was about to tuck in, Pei Hau did the inevitable.

Oh, and if you were looking for any photos of that particular moment, tough luck. Camera was with me. Sorry.

Cakeface shenanigans aside, the rest of the evening turned out to be rather enjoyable. Chit-chatting, gossiping and much joking. Most of them aimed at Priya.




After a while the bill came. And what a bill it was. We somehow managed to sink ourselves into a RM250 hole. Luckily, there were eleven of us (Choo Xiang left early), so it was considerably easier to swallow.

Just before we left, a woman came up to us. Uh oh. We thought we were in trouble. That we've made so much noise that we were going to be given the single biggest telling off in the history of mankind.

And you know what she said?

"This is what Malaysia should be. I love watching you guys. Remember that, after 20 years, we are still Malaysians."

What a nice lady.

P.S. Thanks Priya. Without you I wouldn't have that much fun on my birthday.

Smile!

Yes, I finally broke down and replaced my old, broken Casio camera. And given that I wanted to take up photography as a hobby and since everyone left, right and centre seems to be going for a DSLR, I might as well get one myself.

But while everyone else has bought either a Canon or a Nikon, I went for the left field choice. That camera I'm holding in that picture above is a Sony α200.

Why? Value for money. A Canon EOS 400D with an 18-55mm lens currently goes at around RM2,499 (Philbert got his for somewhere in the region of RM2,800). The Sony - even with a slightly better-specced lens - is yours for RM1,999. Toss another 500 quid at your dealer and you can even get an additional telephoto lens.

So, two lenses for the price of one. Handy, eh?

Thank God it's...um...Monday?

So this is it. The white-knuckled, heart-in-mouth ride through Form Five has finally (officially) come to the end.

No doubt many of the Form Fivers have been waiting in anticipation for the simultaneous release (well, we got ours a bit late, but that's beside the point) of the slips of paper that would determine the future of every 17- and 18-year-old in the country.

Me? I didn't give two grains of rice about it. Somehow I just didn't feel the slightest bit anxious about taking my SPM results. Then again, I'm not getting something like a MacBook if I got straight A's.

Then came the 12th of March. Suddenly I was in the shoes of everyone else. Thoughts were swarming around my head about failing my Additional Mathematics yet again and getting screwed over and over by every single relative and teacher I've ever known. But it was too late to do anything about it, because Pn. Chang was already sitting there with the results slips. I therefore gulped, took a deep breath and went straight to her.

Not a 9G in sight. Good. First goal checked.

A 3B in Malay. Phew, thank goodness i didn't flunk this. I thought I'd do much better than last time since I actually finished the essay, but this was way beyond my expectations.

A 1A in English. As expected. Plus a GCE O-Level 1A. Added bonus.

A 3B in Moral. hated the subject in the first place, so couldn't be arsed.

A 4B in...wait a minute, a B in History? How the fuck did I pull that out of the bag? Not when I skipped questions and bullshitted the rest. No fucking way.

From there on forth it just got better.

A 3B in Mathematics. Could've done better, but I still can't complain.

A 3B in English Literature. Brilliant. Very, very pleased.

A 1A in Physics. Finally. A result I've waited ages to get.

3B's for Chemistry and Biology. In this company, deeply average. But there's nothing wrong with it.

And then came the show-stopper.

A 4B for Additional Mathematics.

I almost fainted. Then I compared my grade with others, and I almost cried.

But as always, there's something to spoil the party. I arrived at school expecting a 1A in EST to be in the bag. I got a 2A.

What. The. Fuck.

Alright, I'm being melodramatic. But come on, that paper was shit easy, so getting something slightly off-target when everything else was so gloriously above my expectations is a pretty big anti-climax.

That aside though, I'm extremely happy with my results. And this wouldn't have been possible without the help of everyone who guided me for the past two years. So I would like to thank my teachers - whether school or tuition - and my parents who had the patience to sit through my absolutely lackadaisical attitude towards studying and got to me and woke me up when I needed it the most.

Oh, and one more thing. Those who aren't happy with their results, cheer up. It's not the end of the world. And even if it is, there's always next year.