web counter The Madness of MokcikNab: My Life as a Blob
The Madness of MokcikNab
Motives, movements and melodrama in the life of a thirty something mum.

Wednesday, July 07, 2004
My Life as a Blob

The sad truth is, a blog is only as interesting as the blogger. Which is why my other sisters' blogs are that much more readable. Spread the Jam, like Elisa is sweet and frothy and warm and welcoming and very much on the "sunny side of the street" whereas ecrivez juste is deep and quiet and belies a dark talent. I promise I will link them as soon as I learn how to write code.

I reread my entries and realized how much it contradicts the promise of my blog title. Maaaan, I am seriously boring. I mean, who would discuss the merits of detention without trial at Simpang Renggam and consider it small talk? I should put in interesting bits like the 3 Ministers whose names were apparently found on Noritta's speed-dial. (Oh wouldn't you like to know)

While I pondered my colourless personality, my husband was writing his resume. Yes, he's 40 and still needs to figure out a CV, which he did using one of the general templates on MSWord. It was very much a fill-out-a-form kind of thing, so he came to the part where he had to list out his "interests".

"What do I put for interests ah?" (he put on his best gas-delivery-man accent)
"Haiyah, just put lah what you like!" (I put on my best Nyonya-kedai-employing-said delivery-man accent)
"What? What are my interests?"
"Apa-apalah, berkebun ke, menebas ke.."
"Can I write down sex?"

It dawned upon me that my husband and I have no interest beyond our work. We both decided to opt out of the rat race and plunge into the murky depths of business ownership. My husband utilised his Engineering degree and 16 years' working experience in Petronas, Peremba and MMC to beg for work (no, tender for work, he says) on behalf of slimy clients who, invariably, will always forget to pay him. This is the kind of stuff that takes up every waking hour, and if he can make deals telepathically, while he sleeps, believe me he will. I fear that one day I will wake up to find out I have married Willy Loman.

My friends and I have this little company which provides live streaming content for internet broadcasts. To convince people that those two words belong together is already an uphill task, and to tell them of its benefits to their organization is akin to telling the Amish of the benefits of g-string. Or a vibrator.

So you see, all we think about is strategies and possible opportunities and unlocking value and all these boring words you get in CEO-speak. Things get worse when my husband and I work for the same project : aspects of planning and revenue streams become dinner conversation. Ever wondered what couples say to each other after sex? We mull over seed financing.

The problem is, we like doing business. To each other, we're as absorbing as Sponge Bob on a wet day. To others, we are at best, perplexing. I dread sitting out a kenduri kahwin - guests inevitably ask the same questions that I wonder if they weren't handed a list together with the bunga telur. It will go something like this :

Guest : Oh, I don't see you on TV anymore (it usually starts like this - a worse option is when they giggle and ask you if you are, indeed, you)
Cringing me : Err.. I quit about one half years ago
Guest : Yes, I know, I read it in the paper/URTV/Majallah Nona
Me : Ooo-err. Terrible pictures. (and I know what's coming)
Guest : So what do you do now? (meaning : what are you doing to feed your children, you has-been)
Me : I'm in internet broadcasting.

The guest, who was probably expecting me to reply that I now run a boutique/hair salon/kedai makan, will by now lose interest but is continuing this conversation out of politeness. I'll go to pains to explain my crusade for convergence while she silently figures out if MCMC isn't that outdated fashion brand. (yes, she - because it is always a woman) I stop as soon as I see her eyes glazing over.

Guest : Oh I see.. Umm, who did Normala marry ah?

My husband promises that we'll have a sparkling social itinerary as soon as we make enough money. (Oh, where have I heard that before?) We used to have season passes to the Philharmonic, never missed a theatre production and had tried out every new eatery. I would have read at least half of the books on a best-sellers list. Now my life is a Venn Diagram where my enterprise is the universe.

As I am writing this, I hear my husband proclaim : exciting! exciting! He was talking about carbon credit. (If you understand the business potential of carbon credit, I am so sorry for you) He eventually filled out the "interests" section of his resume. It is no coincidence that he put down "cricket', a sport that was once described by Robin Williams as baseball on valium.


eh okay what.. baru start meh..
you're like a new born and we're just starting to get to know you.. :)

p/s some people do consider your corporate venturing world a form of madness (read: my husband)
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