STORIES, STORIES

Aun Joo, as she is wont to do, sprang on us on Sunday morning and dragged us all out for breakfast, which led to lunch, which led to more people dragged out to go to All Aboard , a gaming community centre, which led to tea, and then dinner.  I managed to force everyone to play BSG ( just like the good old days ) except I totally failed in retrospect. Nobody enjoyed it (except me for the nostalgic rush and my excitement for all things nerd-culture) as I bungled explaining the game since I hadn't played it for about 4 years. All Aboard was exactly the kind of place we needed back in Jeddah - a place where we can throw our money to play games and chit-chat all day without external hassle. Here, you can rent board games (range is US$4 to US$14 per game unlimited time), or bring your own game and rent a table for US$4 the whole day. I could only imagine what this place was like on Tabletop Day.  But that also feels like a lifetime ago. It's been so many years ...

Diversify yoself before you wreck yoself. My weekend read was Bloomberg 's cover story on Saudi Arabia's Deputy Crown Prince and alpha millennial Mohammad Bin Salman. It made me feel like Saudi was a lifetime ago. ~END~ This post is part of a series of photos and stories very creatively called 100 Days of Malaysia .

Open floor plan workplace means I get to look at everyone's screen when I pass by, and in fairness to me, it's part of my job to do so (to make sure all is going according to plan, you guys). Me: What the hell are you looking at, Riz? Riz: It's Friday night, Ness. I want to find this dish for dinner. It's delicious. Do you have this in Saudi? Me: Why you so old, Riz? Riz: Shh. If you're interested, I think they might have it in Heritage Row .  Me: Where's that? Riz: You don't know where it is? It's the happening place in town! Bars, clubs, restaurants. (To everyone) Guys, Heritage Row is still a happening place, right? Everyone: (mumbling) Riz: It was a happening place 10 years ago. ~END~ This post is part of a series of photos and stories very creatively called 100 Days of Malaysia .

For a time, I only went to one restaurant - the one right downstairs the office - for lunch, everyday. My cigarettes in tow, a few copies of magazines and newspapers to catch up, order my iced coffee and Mongolian chicken chop, and have my one hour break from publishing insanity. The owners are a middle-aged Malaysian Chinese couple who also man the restaurant, and who have known me for most of the years I've been here in Malaysia. We always chit-chat about work, a bit about business and politics and current events, and they've always treated me like a regular, which I was. One fine afternoon - and this is a story I've discussed at length with co-workers - of exceptionally stressful deadline-chasing at work, I ran down to Pasta Boy Cafe to chill out. As I sat smoking, a middle-aged guy walks in with his family of four - his wife and two teenaged kids. He sat in the smoking area at the table next to mine, and while his family followed suit, he started coughing wildly and ...

The whole point of living in Southeast Asia is noodles. This is my favorite pan mee  dish (Chinese name which translates to "flat flour noodle"). It's like a wider, thinner fettuccine noodle, no sauce, just mixed with egg, salty dried fish, ground meat and scallions. It's a little bowl of magic. The servers place chopsticks on my table and I wave them away, because please, spoon and fork for this forever ajnabi. I usually enjoy my noodles with a glass of iced milk tea and the latest Bloomberg . ~END~ This post is part of a series of photos and stories very creatively called 100 Days of Malaysia .

Everybody loves food truck food. Even better, it’s one of those things that people are so proud to declare their love for OMG. I can’t help but hear the undertone of condescension – deliberate or not – when I’m in the midst of friends trying to outdo one another with their love for food truck food along with all the other novelty, kitsch items that our perpetually hipster generation gushes about. OMG YES, I just LOVE being POOR, it’s so BAD , is really what I hear (and also say, let's all be honest). Whether it’s buying things at flea markets, or living without furniture, or driving a beat-up car, I guess we get so tickled by the idea that we’re just not poor enough to have to really, unironically suffer through them. I feel this the most when I get my food from the food truck parked outside our office here in Petaling Jaya, Malaysia. Unlike the food trucks in popular culture, this one is a stark reflection of not only tradition and culture in Malaysia, but also of how h...

Can you spot the Bey? I currently work at AMG International , a Malaysian publishing house that produces closed distribution (in-house) business magazines and corporate publications. We have a sizable stable of magazines that we produce content for and then send off to print a few times every month (one of them pictured above, a magazine for the country's electricity utility). Right before we do, my Malay co-workers at the Graphics Department hold up the proofs to me in mock seriousness and say, " Du3a2 ? Bismillah?" to which I nod, signaling my approval and acceptance of full responsibility for any costly error that might just bite us all in the ass when thousands of copies are finally in print. In many ways, the things we do here as Southeast Asian Muslims, the Arabic words we say in worship, look and sound like parodies or parroting of the Arab (Saudi?) Islamic culture, but in many other ways, they're not. It's the Asean Muslim brand of Islamic cultur...

I took Monday off from work to recuperate and regroup my mind, body and soul. It largely meant staying in bed and appreciating the fact that I didn't have to get up for any old reason, but it only lasted until 11am. Pretty soon, I was at my desk doing work and side-work, and no, I don't think it's because I'm a workaholic, I just happen to really be interested in a lot of the things we do at the office. Love the things you do and do the things you love. ~END~ This post is part of a series of photos and posts very creatively called 100 Days of Malaysia .

Laundry, a bar/restaurant at The Curve mall which is a 10-minute walk from my apartment here, has played host to a few of my friends from Saudi (holla!) and a lot of my friends here in Malaysia. It's my go-to place for drinks and music and some good conversation. Never too early for whiskey. I met up with a couple of my friends who are at least a decade older than me. While I'm friends with people in their mid- to late-twenties because there's so much lols in that age group (and they make me feel like I'm also in still in my 20s), there are a few things I can't really share with them, only because I've been alive a bit longer than they have. Things like complaining about working for 13 years already, or meeting different kinds of people, or being so over the excitement of a Friday night, or wanting to buy a house – "boring, grown-up" stuff that my younger friends can't relate to. The biggest difference is that when I'm with my older f...

I can't afford a car and all the other expenses that come with it (hello gas, toll and road tax!), but good gotdamn I can afford a driver's licence. I tagged along on a trip to Auto World in Sungai Besi anyway, just in case by some miracle, I ALL TOO SUDDENLY can afford a car. But a cat is fine, too. Welcome to douchebag country. ~END~ This post is part of a series of photos and stories very creatively called 100 days of Malaysia .