I've been reading back some of my earliest entries on this blog, entries that date way back to April 2004, which sounds like a very long time ago but isn't, not really. After all, I have friends who I've known for 10, even 15 years. By April 2004, I'd already known most of the people I know today, safe mostly for friends I've met through work. A lot of them I didn't know as well as I do today - obviously - but it's interesting to realise the gradual tapering out of new friendships made as we, ahem, age, compared to the hike I experienced during my earlier years in Melbourne.

Surprisingly, those entries don't make me cringe. I sound... young, but in a very hopeful, youthful way. It was the voice of one who was continuing to develop her skills and her style as a writer, even as her perspective of the world was being sharpened and honed and constantly changed. It's been quite an interesting sidetrack down literary memory lane.

This sudden sentimentalism was further boosted by a gathering of primary school friends yesterday at The Curve. It was a small one, about eight of us, but it was great. Some of them I haven't seen since I left primary school at 12, others I've seen here and there but never really got round to having a conversation with. Yesterday, we did, and it was pretty cool. I always did have a soft spot for my Chinese-school roots.

I stole these off Chang Chang's (above, second from right) Facebook page. And speaking of Facebook, it's been heaps fun tracking down people there too. I just found an old friend from high school; it's been years and years since we spoke, and I can't wait to catch up with him.

What is it that makes me want to seek out people from the past as I get older? That makes me finally start to appreciate and enjoy time with family and relatives? That gives me a warm fuzzy feeling as we gather after umpteen years and sit around a table to make conversation? We weren't exactly best pals back in primary school or high school, and sure, the conversation probably did feel a little forced at times, (one too many pauses, the occasional awkward sips from our drinks), but speaking for myself, I had a good time. I hope they did, too.

It's been a very baby-filled fortnight. While grandma has made no secret of the fact that I should have gotten pregnant right from the second I said 'I do', my mother (M) and mother-in-law (MIL) did at least maintain a respectful, if anticipatory, silence the first couple years.

Of late, however, their careful hints and hopeful references to 'my grandchildren' have gradually escalated from 'so your mother-in-law has been asking me when you're going to have kids' (good try, mum, blame it on the other mother), to 'you guys still don't want to have kids ar?!!!' Very unsubtle, I know.

Grandma, on her part, is most pleased that finally, people are starting to see her point about providing her with (more) great-grandchildren. After all, has she not advocated reproduction 'as soon as you can'?

The father (F) and father-in-law (FIL) have wisely kept mum (pun intended) on the subject. While I hear my FIL has casually expressed his intentions - out of my hearing - to educate his grandchildren, I don't think F really wants grandchildren yet. Although perhaps his reaching the big six-oh this year might push him in that direction. It's different for him though, he doesn't feel the pressure. None of my cousins on his side of the family are even married. It could be another five years or more before they get to attend the nuptials of another nephew/niece.

Having said that, I should add that the abovementioned grandma, the M of my M, is exempt from all whinging and irritation expressed here because she's my absolute favourite elderly person in the world, I love her to bits, and she can do no wrong - the vast majority of the time. I should also add that all this baby-talk has not been helped by real baby-talk, thanks to the CNY reunions which has seen the maternal cousins gather... with their cute little tots.

Sure, they're really cute, and I'll even admit to (finally!) wanting one of my own... in the future. But the operative word here is 'in the future', obviously, because babies aren't just something you can go to 1Utama and select from the 'new season' collections. Secretly, it's a relief to discover some maternal yearning. M isn't exactly the hands-on mum type, and I did wonder if I might have inherited the totally undomesticated gene. For sure, I'm a doofus in the kitchen, though I can't say I inherited her ambitious career gene either. Gawd.

The thing is, I wonder whether the folks want us to have kids because they want grandchildren, or they want to be able to tell their friends and relatives that they have grandchildren. There's a very big difference. Especially when sentences almost always start with, 'So-and-so already has...' and 'So-and-so keeps asking me...'

In this aspect, at least I know my grandma is 100% sincere. Because it's not like she has anyone to call up and announce the good news to. I think all these so-and-sos, well-meaning, gossipy or just plain nosy, should not get to pressure the folks and indirectly bug me.

Secondly, the constant nagging really takes the fun out of planning for a family. I'm sure hubby would be a little more open to discussing the subject if everyone was just a little more subtle and open to hearing 'whys' and 'nos'. I almost don't want to get pregnant just because I don't want the credit to go to parental pressure. I want our planning to be ours, and I want the decision to be ours, and it's a little hard for that now when everyone keeps preaching insemination. It's probably one of the most annoying side effects.

Thirdly, and I confess this is really personal and judgmental, I hate it when M says 'don't worry, you have so many people waiting to take care of your baby for you', and uses that as a reason to have kids. When MIL says that, it's an offer of help because she really is waiting to play grandmother. But when M says that, it annoys me. I know I'm being horribly biased, and we're always harsher towards our own parents, but what is the point of having kids if you don't intend to take care of them? It's almost like, in an exaggerated sense, deliberately having kids for the sake of appeasing the masses, and then packing the child off because your part is done. I'm a latch-key kid, can you tell?

Nevertheless, these are just thoughts and rantings, a culmination of almost non-stop baby-talk and an increasing awareness of my maternal instincts and advancing years. I don't think I'm in any way old, but I guess I always wanted to be a hot young mama.

I'm also pregnant.

Just kidding.

No, really, I'm not. But (no?) thanks to one and all, Y and I have been talking about it. We probably should too, before our parents adopt grandchildren.

Chinese New Year has never been a big deal for me. When I was younger, I never appreciated the get-together opportunity this festival afforded, simply because I was too young to appreciate re-connecting with long-lost cousins and aunties and uncles that I actually cared about. Every year for 23 years, I joined the season exodus of KL for Penang, the hometown of my parents, which really couldn't have contributed to my enthusiasm (not!). The long car ride up north, the traffic jam back to KL, and the invariable squabbling and fighting - I don't come from the most peaceful of households to begin with, and four feisty, irritated siblings who didn't even want to be there in the first place was a recipe for chaos - unfortunately make up much (though not all) of my CNY impressions, along with other equally unfestive memories.

Then I got married, and I finally got to spend CNY in KL. I couldn't wait for my first time. It was fantastic. My siblings got jealous almost a full year before they had to make their first trip without me, while I patted myself on the back for getting myself a cool husband and in-laws who stayed put for the festival. Their jealousy didn't last too long. The following year marked their first CNY not celebrated in Penang, and this year appears to have cemented that end to those long journeys. Penang is fantastic, but CNY really isn't the best time to visit. Plus, I do like to be in charge of my itinerary (read: go with friends instead of the parents).

Anyway, like I was saying, CNY has never been a big deal for me, so you'll forgive me if I was more excited this year about my four-day weekend than about wearing red and hearing fireworks. I was very pleasantly surprised. In fact, I had such a good time I'm making a list of my top three CNY highlights this year, in no particular order:

1. Seeing long-lost cousins and aunties and uncles
This is definitely a sign of my advancing years. I was so thrilled to see cousins I hadn't seen in like, three years, and others I hardly see even though they live here in KL, and aunties and uncles from afar and... Basically, it was just a lot of fun. The cousins even had our very first excursion - to watch The Eye at the cinema (we couldn't get tickets for anything else). Y doesn't really get it because he barely spends time with his cousins, but he came along for the movie and I am very pleased.

2. Singing karaoke with my siblings
Y's mum recently bought a karaoke machine for the house and I'm determined to play my part in making sure it's well-used. I admit to being rather surprised I managed to get all four of us to sing together, but we had a blast. My I'm-fifteen-this-year-and-oh-so-cool younger brother Josh sang too! And we have rather incriminating videos of Bec and Jess, which I will consider putting up if I can get them off Josh.

3. Non-existent traffic!
This is a recurring highlight. I'm going to miss getting practically anywhere in ten minutes when the revelers return from their various kampungs.

Not-so-highlights:

1. Everyone seems to have taken the opportunity of CNY (don't ask me how it's connected) to put forward their requests/opinions that I reproduce. I have many thoughts on that subject, which I will expound on in a separate entry. Maybe tomorrow.

Already running super-late for a media preview of CJ7, I brisk walk into GSC Mid Valley, and stop short when a rat scampers across the lobby. Scampers - I like that word. It's a good thing I'm not afraid of rodents, but everyone else around me is. As the women scream and dart into faraway corners, I watch with amusement as the men stand their ground... carefully keeping their distance as well.

Already running super-late for my media preview of CJ7, I brisk walk towards the designated cinema hall, and stop short when the rat scampers past me and traps itself between me and the closed doors of the cinema I need to get into. The women are all safely hidden away by now, and the men and I watch with amusement as the rat runs around in circles in an effort to find a way out... carefully keeping our distance.

Just because I'm not afraid of it doesn't mean I'm going to go right up to it and shoo it out of my way. It eventually works out an escape route. I should have taken a photo. But if it were a monitor lizard crawling across the lobby, I'd have told Stephen Chow to stuff it and gone straight back to my car.

The movie wasn't half bad, by the way.

Happy Chinese New Year!

It's been a flat-out week - for some reason, the New Year seems to have brought more traffic jams (as if a whole new bunch of people just started work on 2 January) and more work hours. Even though we've recently had two new additions to our team, which technically should mean work is being spread out, right?

No matter, at least there's cable TV in the office, so this happy camper has been getting her fill of the Aussie Open and American Idol. There's also a lot, and I mean a lot, of junk food, which us girls have been devouring at freaky speed (the guys in the office just don't seem to eat).

But that's not what I mean by thievery.

My colleague got her handbag snatched this week. Right in front of the office! It was about 5.20pm and she was opening her car door to get in when a Malay guy who was standing nearby pretending to talk on the phone snatched her bag, ran to an accomplice on a motorbike, and the two sped away.

We were furious.

I actually don't know who was more angry - my poor colleague who lost everything including her spare car keys which happened to be in her bag; my bosses who, as a result, have had to change all the locks in the office and run around looking for padlocks because my colleague had copies of the office keys in her bag; or the rest of us, angry for our colleague, for the inconvenience, for the atrosity, for the knowledge that we will never feel safe from now on. We wanted to inflict pain. Or at least, I and a couple others did.

While we satisfied ourselves with fuming and imagining scenes where we would all miraculously be able to beat up a couple of snatch thieves, my boss rang the stolen mobile phone, and it turns out the _____ (insert rude name here) had not turned off the phone! They canceled my boss' call, and he promptly texted them something along the lines of:

If you fucking come back here again, I'm going to fucking kill you.

Can you believe the punks actually replied? And in English too! Something along the lines of:

I can see you, you can't see me, you can't catch me, ha ha ha!

?!!!?? And then they came back the next day! They rode past the office, stopped and stared inside for a while and then ran off before we could call the cops. If they show their faces again and for some reason we don't quite manage to run them down, we're bringing in the police.

I should also add that this is the second time they've snatched a bag in front of our office, so the entire road is Very Very Angry.

Everyone is now on the watch for two Malay ____ (insert rude name again, feel free to be creative) on a motorbike, one of them dark and small and the other taller and with a moustache, loitering around the area. Unfortunately, that description fits a lot of people.

The day after the incident, another colleague called us from her car at about 6pm.

"I'm in the car already, but there's a Malay guy on a motorbike with a moustache just hanging around outside the office. He's on his mobile phone but he doesn't seem to be doing anything, quite suspicious."

We promptly sent our boss down to investigate, and five minutes later, he came back.

"It's the architect from the firm next door."

Oh.

I think I should invest in a baseball bat.

I like this pic - for soppy reasons. These kids were trying to persuade me to buy their wares for "one dollar", and the little girl on the left demonstrated much entrepreneurial potential when she changed her tune from "three for one dollar" to "four from one dollar" after about three minutes of trailing me.

The boy in the baseball cap gave up pretty quick, but the other boy with the recorder and the girl stuck on for ages! The boy was pretty cute too, he played the recorder to show me how it worked, and I was this close to reaching for my purse to give these kids a dollar each - just for being so cute and for trying so hard.

Then I remembered, Y had all the small notes.

These were the only two kids I seriously considered buying stuff from, firstly because they'd followed me so far off their beat there were no other kids around so no one would be disappointed, secondly because they were really persistent and cute, thirdly because I could always have given away the stuff I bought as souvenirs. Too bad Y had the foresight to only give me big notes. If there's one regret I have from Cambodia, it'd be not buying from these two (forget the boy in the baseball cap).

For the rest of G's pics, go here.