The not so sexy part of my job involves travelling long distances to poke around dusty construction sites or view millions of boring scale models which start to look the same by the time you see Semi-D Phase 20 of the n-th housing development.
Avoid such a visit I can't, because its exactly what my job depends upon.
So it was that I found my bleary-eyed self in the back seat of the car in the wee morning hours, clutching a pillow in one hand and a coffee tumbler in the other, bracing myself for a long drive down to Johor.
Besides getting diarrhoea and having to make a pit stop in Pagoh, the journey to Nusajaya was a fairly uneventful one.
The interesting part really, was how much of nothing there was in all those catalytic developments in Nusajaya. While the residential part is slowly coming up, they still remain far out of the average Johorean's price range, and depending on Singaporeans to turn their noses towards this end of the Causeway to sell your houses sounds just a tad bit too high beta for me. If Singaporeans come, they come like bees. How many times have you just seen one bee buzzing around with no hive nearby? To be fair to them, their houses are actually very good and well-designed. If I were working in Singapore, I wouldn't think twice about buying a house in Nusajaya.
In all, the client I accompanied was a bit let down, he had hoped to see people, but all we saw most of the time was land. Clearing land, plantation land, dusty land, undulating land, golf land, land under construction, but seriously very few people.
I pray for my stock coverage sake that those catalytic developments in 2012 do not get derailed by change of government, change of heart, or change of economic winds.
We left at 5, stopped to have tea in Pagoh, and then arrived back in the city by 8pm. If my driver hadn't insisted he wanted to stop for tea and chat with a fellow driver he bumped into whose from an office building near ours in KL, we could have got back earlier. I think he fancies himself a pilot, the way he sped down the highway.
Luckily I was asleep otherwise I might have freaked out.
Lucky my boss wasn't in the car too - the driver might have gotten fired. Boss thinks he drives too fast.
Thursday, March 31, 2011
Thursday, March 24, 2011
the whole world is up in the air
So Gaddafi is still hanging on, while Portugal's PM quit in a row over the country's messed up finances. Germany is reiterating its vows to go nuke-free and leaning towards renewable energy, while the paranoid Swiss have been warned NOT to take them iodide or iodine pills to avoid jeopardizing their health in the absence of a speck of radiation.
Meanwhile some market punters are advising people to buy timber stocks on a reconstruction theme for Japan - a very good fact pointed out was that a good number of people are dead and more likely than not the survivors would be getting their asses out of Sendai and Fukushima faster than you can say Jack Sprat once they actually get their hands on some petrol. So who exactly would you be building houses for?
But I've shed tears for Japan, not because CNN's Anderson Cooper or BBC did a particularly good job of covering the poignancy of the situation there, but because the truth stood out even when no words were said. And today I cried again because I thought Elizabeth Taylor was beautiful.
I suspect its PMS but whatever.
Credit Suisse is taking clients to the Sevens in Hong Kong, while we're trying to work on upping our market share. My friend in UBS got a 60% pay rise last year and he still complained about a bad bonus.
CPO Boy and I were lunching at Shangri-La when both our peripheral vision picked up on Jacob Yeoh, heir apparent to everything under the sun. We had initially been speculating about the table he subsequently approached, wondering if those were the Rothschild bankers.
I was of the opinion they looked more 1MDB than Rothschild, but CPO Boy said they had an air about them. I still think they're 1MDB.
At this point I need to categorically state that our lunchtime conversation is in no way a reflection of our professional selves - in fact, we spend 13-14 hour weekdays working hard not to drop the ball, speaking to clients from New York to Tokyo, pouring our soul into writing kickass and classy reports that we're not even sure anyone reads, to be honest.
But its a tough life.
I realized how bad it had become and how involved I have been in work when I decided I wanted to have a little night out with friends this Saturday at Velvet and found that I could only call one person.
The rest would probably scream at me and say where have I been for a year.
It's been so long since our days at Velvet - I clearly remember our episodes of downing Moet (looking back, who the hell downs champagne?), becoming totally best friends with people you just only met and seeing them week after week. I certainly do not miss it, but a work-imposed hermit-like existence isn't very ideal either.
---------------
Oh bollocks. A reporter just called me and asked what I think about a new acquisition and I realized I forgot to check the stock exchange today after market close.
yeah, life is bitchin'. -_-
Meanwhile some market punters are advising people to buy timber stocks on a reconstruction theme for Japan - a very good fact pointed out was that a good number of people are dead and more likely than not the survivors would be getting their asses out of Sendai and Fukushima faster than you can say Jack Sprat once they actually get their hands on some petrol. So who exactly would you be building houses for?
But I've shed tears for Japan, not because CNN's Anderson Cooper or BBC did a particularly good job of covering the poignancy of the situation there, but because the truth stood out even when no words were said. And today I cried again because I thought Elizabeth Taylor was beautiful.
I suspect its PMS but whatever.
Credit Suisse is taking clients to the Sevens in Hong Kong, while we're trying to work on upping our market share. My friend in UBS got a 60% pay rise last year and he still complained about a bad bonus.
CPO Boy and I were lunching at Shangri-La when both our peripheral vision picked up on Jacob Yeoh, heir apparent to everything under the sun. We had initially been speculating about the table he subsequently approached, wondering if those were the Rothschild bankers.
I was of the opinion they looked more 1MDB than Rothschild, but CPO Boy said they had an air about them. I still think they're 1MDB.
At this point I need to categorically state that our lunchtime conversation is in no way a reflection of our professional selves - in fact, we spend 13-14 hour weekdays working hard not to drop the ball, speaking to clients from New York to Tokyo, pouring our soul into writing kickass and classy reports that we're not even sure anyone reads, to be honest.
But its a tough life.
I realized how bad it had become and how involved I have been in work when I decided I wanted to have a little night out with friends this Saturday at Velvet and found that I could only call one person.
The rest would probably scream at me and say where have I been for a year.
It's been so long since our days at Velvet - I clearly remember our episodes of downing Moet (looking back, who the hell downs champagne?), becoming totally best friends with people you just only met and seeing them week after week. I certainly do not miss it, but a work-imposed hermit-like existence isn't very ideal either.
---------------
Oh bollocks. A reporter just called me and asked what I think about a new acquisition and I realized I forgot to check the stock exchange today after market close.
yeah, life is bitchin'. -_-
Thursday, March 10, 2011
its a love-hate thing
Today I scream and whine and moan and bleat about having to call the two most idiotic clients on earth - and slink away for a corporate lunch feeling absolutely depressed.
But suddenly as a result of that lunch, I get sent to... guess where....
Tokyo!!!!!
Again. For the 2nd time in 5 months. The reason why I'm so excited is because:-
1) Yesterday's cursory check for a 5 night holiday package for two in the cheapest option hotel in MASHolidays website cost RM22,906. Flying economy too.
2) I get to hunt down the fantastic sharks fin broth in Tokyo Station and whack and whack as much as I can
3) I get to go to that back lane alley in Tsukiji market and have that bloody fantastic sashimi rice.
4) Head to Laduree and Nenrinya at Ginza and buy back boxes and boxes of macarons and baumkuchens
Dammit I'm drooling already.
Oh, well and of course, there's work too.
Yeah.
But suddenly as a result of that lunch, I get sent to... guess where....
Tokyo!!!!!
Again. For the 2nd time in 5 months. The reason why I'm so excited is because:-
1) Yesterday's cursory check for a 5 night holiday package for two in the cheapest option hotel in MASHolidays website cost RM22,906. Flying economy too.
2) I get to hunt down the fantastic sharks fin broth in Tokyo Station and whack and whack as much as I can
3) I get to go to that back lane alley in Tsukiji market and have that bloody fantastic sashimi rice.
4) Head to Laduree and Nenrinya at Ginza and buy back boxes and boxes of macarons and baumkuchens
Dammit I'm drooling already.
Oh, well and of course, there's work too.
Yeah.
Monday, March 7, 2011
square one
It's funny how you can go round the world but end up coming back to square one, right where you left off not awhile ago.
Case in point - The contractors, after hacking about half the kitchen floor, hacked right back to the doorstep of the entrance to my home, and realized the leak was less than 20cm away from where they started digging. If only they had dug 20cm in that direction, they would have found that leak 3 weeks ago.
Case in point number 2 - I keep telling myself I do not need a coffee machine after spotting the sleekest black and aluminum Nespresso machine in Hong Kong 6 months ago, on my first marketing trip. I go everywhere, unable to put lingering wants to rest, and end up buying the coffee machine and 25 sleeves (of 10 capsules, ie 250 cups of coffee) in the same shop in Hong Kong's IFC mall where I first saw it.
A splurge definitely. But a splurge I've worked hard for this year. And anything that helps me wake up in the morning helps me work better too.
*rationalizes the exorbitant purchase well*
----------------------
I start work tomorrow. Bring on the 2 and a half month countdown, baby!
Nothing can derail this conviction, ever.
Case in point - The contractors, after hacking about half the kitchen floor, hacked right back to the doorstep of the entrance to my home, and realized the leak was less than 20cm away from where they started digging. If only they had dug 20cm in that direction, they would have found that leak 3 weeks ago.
Case in point number 2 - I keep telling myself I do not need a coffee machine after spotting the sleekest black and aluminum Nespresso machine in Hong Kong 6 months ago, on my first marketing trip. I go everywhere, unable to put lingering wants to rest, and end up buying the coffee machine and 25 sleeves (of 10 capsules, ie 250 cups of coffee) in the same shop in Hong Kong's IFC mall where I first saw it.
A splurge definitely. But a splurge I've worked hard for this year. And anything that helps me wake up in the morning helps me work better too.
*rationalizes the exorbitant purchase well*
----------------------
I start work tomorrow. Bring on the 2 and a half month countdown, baby!
Nothing can derail this conviction, ever.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
on the road again
What is it about travelling that can be quite lonely? I used to aspire to be one of those fast-walking, always in a hurry executives with a Berry in one hand, swiftly maneuvering their Tumi carry on case through the airport crowd.
Now I am one of them, but I sometimes dread it. The social chatter, company dinners, the facade one puts up in the many hushed conversations in hotel lobby lounges. I especially hate foreign hotel rooms, and can hardly sleep well. That's been a problem since I was a child, this inability to fall asleep in a foreign place.
And tomorrow I face a room full of more questions on the 3 reports I'm going to talk about.
The Fullerton hotel is surprisingly not as impressive I thought it would be. The room is small, the size of my room at home, which I'm happy with at home, but not for a 5-star hotel. But I'm just happy with the small things - finding a nice enough laundry bag and toiletries to hoard and take back home.
Ahh the little hobbies that keep life simple.
--------------
Would I date a guy who likes the simple things, and doesn't mind staying at home? Well, I've tried dating "exciting" and all i remember of our times together is hanging out in nightspots with like 30 other people I've never met before. He'd probably stay out late drinking, and after awhile I'd get tired of tagging along, preferring to stay at home, and sooner or later, we'd fall apart.
Not too exciting then, huh? But how do you bring exciting to the guy who likes simple things, mix em both together and find a cocktail mixture for a life together?
----------------
Sleepy already. Time to sink back into the sheets and dream a little dream.
Good night.
Now I am one of them, but I sometimes dread it. The social chatter, company dinners, the facade one puts up in the many hushed conversations in hotel lobby lounges. I especially hate foreign hotel rooms, and can hardly sleep well. That's been a problem since I was a child, this inability to fall asleep in a foreign place.
And tomorrow I face a room full of more questions on the 3 reports I'm going to talk about.
The Fullerton hotel is surprisingly not as impressive I thought it would be. The room is small, the size of my room at home, which I'm happy with at home, but not for a 5-star hotel. But I'm just happy with the small things - finding a nice enough laundry bag and toiletries to hoard and take back home.
Ahh the little hobbies that keep life simple.
--------------
Would I date a guy who likes the simple things, and doesn't mind staying at home? Well, I've tried dating "exciting" and all i remember of our times together is hanging out in nightspots with like 30 other people I've never met before. He'd probably stay out late drinking, and after awhile I'd get tired of tagging along, preferring to stay at home, and sooner or later, we'd fall apart.
Not too exciting then, huh? But how do you bring exciting to the guy who likes simple things, mix em both together and find a cocktail mixture for a life together?
----------------
Sleepy already. Time to sink back into the sheets and dream a little dream.
Good night.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
all the simple things
I just emerged from one of the worst results week ever. End-February is usually not a good month to pursue anything at all, not even sleep, because that's when almost 100% of companies under one's coverage choose to release their full year '10 results.
And the way those companies approach this is akin to a horde of bargain-hungry old aunties making a concerted beeline for that cheap bag in Chatuchak market.
The last day of the week was finished off with 3 companies reporting and all I did Friday was stay on an adrenaline high pushing out note after note after note. I thank the cheeses that 2 were in line and only one resulted me in having to scurry panickedly to their head office in KL Sentral in a thunderstorm on PUBLIC TRANSPORT to listen to why their earnings were 65% above my forecasts.
By the time all the notes were finished and I handed over to my assistant in India to do the housekeeping and standardizing and formatting, it was 230am. I'd been working for 19 hours.
Then tomorrow I fly out for a week on the road to Singapore and Hong Kong, with my reports and game face in tow.
After an excruciating time, you know what's the only thing I want? A hairwash. Visit a furniture shop. Sleep.
The phrase 'all the simple things' is really underrated.
And the way those companies approach this is akin to a horde of bargain-hungry old aunties making a concerted beeline for that cheap bag in Chatuchak market.
The last day of the week was finished off with 3 companies reporting and all I did Friday was stay on an adrenaline high pushing out note after note after note. I thank the cheeses that 2 were in line and only one resulted me in having to scurry panickedly to their head office in KL Sentral in a thunderstorm on PUBLIC TRANSPORT to listen to why their earnings were 65% above my forecasts.
By the time all the notes were finished and I handed over to my assistant in India to do the housekeeping and standardizing and formatting, it was 230am. I'd been working for 19 hours.
Then tomorrow I fly out for a week on the road to Singapore and Hong Kong, with my reports and game face in tow.
After an excruciating time, you know what's the only thing I want? A hairwash. Visit a furniture shop. Sleep.
The phrase 'all the simple things' is really underrated.
Monday, February 14, 2011
har, no old newspapers ar?
That was what the incredulous Bangla slash Paki slash I don't really know what race worker from the main contractor's office said to me, crouched by the base of my backyard wall.
This follows two weeks of uncertainty over whether the leaking water from my unit (which caused a dramatic lift breakdown a month back) was due to my renovating contractor's error or the main contractor's (if it was the latter, it meant no huge repair bill on my hands).
After establishing that my own contractor did not hack the pipes in the floor (where the supposed leak was coming from), I was pretty happy to sit back, take leave and let the main con drill / fix / hammer / dig whatever needed to be done. Do not fancy waking up to leaking tiles and smelly water.
The worker asked me for old newspaper and I realized that I had glossies upon glossies of InStyle and Elle Decor, but not a shred of old newspapers anywhere.
Moral of the story, however abstract and meaningless it may seem -
1) Print is going down the toilet in favour of digital media, as the younger population takes over
2) Always doggedly pursue a matter and postulate all avenues of possibilities to ensure you achieve your aim of passing the blame to someone else. I spent days drawing mental issue trees in my mind trying to come up with different scenarios which had the highest likelihood of resulting in me not having to pay for repairs.
So this is what I'm spending Valentine's Day doing. Listening to drilling sounds in my backyard area with my legs propped up on my sofa bench, popping kuih bangkit in my mouth and wondering if I should chop off my hair.
This also means, I am not at work.
Ya-the-HOO!!
This follows two weeks of uncertainty over whether the leaking water from my unit (which caused a dramatic lift breakdown a month back) was due to my renovating contractor's error or the main contractor's (if it was the latter, it meant no huge repair bill on my hands).
After establishing that my own contractor did not hack the pipes in the floor (where the supposed leak was coming from), I was pretty happy to sit back, take leave and let the main con drill / fix / hammer / dig whatever needed to be done. Do not fancy waking up to leaking tiles and smelly water.
The worker asked me for old newspaper and I realized that I had glossies upon glossies of InStyle and Elle Decor, but not a shred of old newspapers anywhere.
Moral of the story, however abstract and meaningless it may seem -
1) Print is going down the toilet in favour of digital media, as the younger population takes over
2) Always doggedly pursue a matter and postulate all avenues of possibilities to ensure you achieve your aim of passing the blame to someone else. I spent days drawing mental issue trees in my mind trying to come up with different scenarios which had the highest likelihood of resulting in me not having to pay for repairs.
So this is what I'm spending Valentine's Day doing. Listening to drilling sounds in my backyard area with my legs propped up on my sofa bench, popping kuih bangkit in my mouth and wondering if I should chop off my hair.
This also means, I am not at work.
Ya-the-HOO!!
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