just minishorts.

With Christmas approaching and several weeks of missing my occasional blogging sessions, it's quite hard to believe that I've hit week-35 on the pregnancy schedule. And yes, of course, I'm terrified to the bone, extremely anxious, and honestly, rather fearful of what lies ahead.

I fell quite ill during the 33rd week of my pregnancy. The flu bug hit me hard, and I got the fever, cough and a runny nose attacking me all at the same time, causing my doctor to not smile at me for the first time in months. The worry was for the H1N1 wave, and being pregnant puts me in the 'high risk' category, so I was out of the office for an entire week. A week later, I switched on the office laptop to be greeted by 270 emails, out of which 188 of them needed individual attention.

I can't imagine the kind of bombs I'll receive when I return from my maternity leave.

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Obviously pregnancy changes people – not only me and Eric (physically and mentally), it also changes the people around me. For one, everyone is a lot more open and we talk very very candidly about sex, sexual organs and how to reproduce effectively (I'm serious). And then when it comes to taking care of babies, the mothers are all beamingly expressive over very private matters. The process of becoming a parent is like an initiation rite – you get welcome into an open yet very private club of 'been there done thats', and suddenly you get an additional topic to talk about to every other father or mother you know.

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So today's overdue update is this: I'm 35 weeks pregnant, and in 'what-to-expect' pregnancy guides and sites, they say that I'll be delivering in another 3 to 5 weeks. We're quite broke (pregnancy and babies cost a lot of money) but everything for the baby is purchased for already. Thank God of course, for hand me downs and a lot of lovely gifts from darling friends. If I don't update in the next few weeks, it's because I'm terribly busy trying to complete all my working tasks and hand over duties to my team before I leave for the maternity holidays. In the meantime, enjoy your winter soltice tong yuens, have a very blessed Christmas, a joyous welcoming party for 2010, and make yourselves some reasonably achievable new year resolutions. My list is quite simple this year:

1. Breastfeed for at least 6 months
2. Slim down to original weight by December 2010
3. Get a raise at work
4. Enjoy baby and the new family life thoroughly
5. Cope well and ease into my new life effectively!

Have fun!

I honestly think they don't actually. And the annoying thing is, it's confusing the whole lot of us. So sometimes, of course, I'm terribly envious of friends in the field, in different industries, who work for supervisors who know what we're talking about. Who understand our actual roles, and respect our responsibilities and efforts to constantly push for integrity and transparency.

Yes, a part of PR is about lobbying for presence in the media. No, lobbying for presence in the media does not have to include 'buying editors'. Yes, some journalists and writers are unscrupulous that way. Yes, it can be an option.

No, it is not a recommended choice, especially not if you're seeking to uphold credibility and build a clean and transparent image for your corporation.

And yes, if we say no to you, even though you're the boss, it doesn't mean we're disrespecting you. It means that we're constantly taking that risk of making you unhappy and angry at us, with your best interests in mind.

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At least, if you asked me, I'm not the type who would recommend paying off writers to get a story written. SERIOUSLY.

A few weeks ago, a bunch of us old chums from the same school were gathered around some coffee mugs and empty plates, lamenting over the state of diarray we have landed ourselves, a decade since we left the old place. Reunions are like that these days, starting off with great joyous pats on the backs and commenting on how we've never quite changed, or, in my case, how well I now look that I'm complemented with a bump in place of my tummy.

And then we catch up a little, exchange name cards (in case we've changed offices again), and someone buys the coffee. A little over an hour later, we're left with depressed sharings of 'whose work sucks the most'. And someone, someone the wisest of all (or at least, the one a little less wise than I am) would loudly claim, 'Well, it's a job, it's work. You're not supposed to be happy where you're working.'

Because, apparently, 'Work is supposed to be suffering.'

I quite heartily disagree. Many many years ago as a school kid with an affinity for seeking up 'quotable quotes', I stumbled upon this piece of ancient wisdom, 'Do what you love and love what you're doing and you'll never work another day in your life.'

That line has driven me to insist that life isn't about studying the top of the notch courses to find a job that sucks but pays well, to provide me with enough dosh so that I can scrimp and save like a wicked Scrooge until 45 years later, to reap the harvest of my hard work. I don't believe work should be all that hard. On the contrary, I really believe if the work gets overtly tiring, then it's time to leave. It just isn't worth it working like a donkey for 45 years of your precious life for the heck of a few million bucks to enjoy in your later years. Sure I may not be rich doing a job that I enjoy doing, but at least it keeps me happy for the 45 years that I'm working, rather than waiting my entire life, grumbling and wallowing in misery over indecisive bosses and promiscous secretaries, or impossible sales targets and stupid customers (the list goes on). If you can be okay and choose to be happy where you are now, with what little material possessions you have, why aim for happiness only at the end of retirement?

So I really think work is meant to be enjoyed.

Allah word use

Perhaps being fortunate enough to claim existence to life in Malaysia allows me the space to be constantly be puzzled over the religious authorities claims upon a language. Sampai orang nak sembahyang dalam bahasa sendiri pun boleh jadi masalah. Why on earth does the word 'Allah', which essentially means God, and is 'God' to so many other Christians in the rest of the world who speak languages which refers to God as 'Allah', so prohibited in this country?

And besides, there are so many other things for us to bother and worry about. Like  college undergraduates stupid enough to consult mediums  for quick fix remedies to 'bad luck' and ending up contracting STDs – oh wait, not your problem right? Because these people are pagan worshippers and have nothing to do with you? But apparently, some peace-loving, God loving person from another country who happens to call her God Allah as well, trespasses upon your precious territory?

I'm sorry but it's hard for me to understand why such a sovereign and almighty God would need gatekeepers to keep people in check. I suppose human beings just love being superior to other people, including God. At least, my understanding of God is that, He wouldn't be such a narrow minded bigot. Loving and Forgiving, yup, that's who God is to me. I kind of believe even your Allah would be loving and forgiving!

Interesting read here: Allah belongs to the Muslims, Christians, Jews or Sikhs?