All's fair in journos and press gifts.

Ah, ethical dilemmas.

As a journalist you get swamped with PRs who throw you free things from washing detergent to all sorts of make up to an electronic hairbrush (that can double-up as some other gadget ifyouknowwhatimean).

What do I do?

Fake a goody and refuse it and give it to someone else, or secretly and greedily hide it in your bag with the idea that if no one saw it, I wasn't greedy.

How much is too much? What is the point where you reach that moral peak where your judgement is blinded by the cosmetics that are painted over your eyelids?

Yesterday morning I went for a notebook launch and in the afternoon a branded underwear/timepiece/ shoes competition winner announcement thingamajig.

The former gave me a RM20 bookstore gift voucher, the latter an ugly RM585 watch.

Now if you base it on the type of person I am, I would usually be thrilled with stationery/book-related things. What use would I have for an expensive (and ugly because it's chunky) watch when I already have my new Fossil Motion Dial watch with animated butterflies fluttering all over the dial?

But such is men's (and women's) greed that I favour the ugly watch more than the voucher which I could use to purchase lots of pretty notebooks and pens with.

And the other day I tried and tried (but in vain) to go for a boutique opening in hopes of getting a discount or some nice freebie from the shop.

My boyfriend called me a Moocher (in jest, of course).

But it is true, isn't it? All those years of studying ethical journalism has gone down the poo-poo hole and I am now nothing but a crazy-eyed, messy-haired and chip-nailed unscrupulous writer who is always on the lookout for good assignment 'bargains'.

So here's an important ethical question that I have tossed and turned in bed over,

Should I keep the freebies for myself, or should I Give Them To You?

Oh, so tragic!

Last week while I was at the office waiting to go for the Da Vinci premiere with a colleague (which I ended up not going and you will see why) I got a call from my sis who told me that my dad had gotten into an accident.

The story.
My dad was on his way out for a jog and was standing by the road when a motorcycle hit him.
Injured, stunned, and one of his shoes having flown quite a distance away, dad was helped by passerbys who carried him to the bus stop where he sat in pain.
The motorcycle man? Unconscious.
When he came to, my dad was still there; not being able to walk home as he was in too much friend.
A neighbourhood friend of his who was driving past saw him and stopped to offer dad a ride home (FYI:our house was half a minute's walk away).
Anyway, before he went off, dad had a talk with the stupid fellow who ran him down.

Dad: You okay?
The guy nodded.
Dad: Lain kali jangan pandu laju sangat ya? (Next time don't ride too fast okay?)
The guy nodded.
Dad shook the man's hand and said: Ok lah. My friend bring me home. Bye bye!
.
.
What the? How can anyone be that benevolent I ask you? And mind you, that word's only associated with deities and buddhist charity homes.

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The amazement of how he handled the issue aside, I bawled when I got the phone call from my sis, and have been calling him every other day since.

Last saturday was his 52nd birthday.

He's okay (alive) but is not quite mobile at the moment. He also can't sleep due to the pain (skin on his legs, waist and shoulder came off, entire left leg is bruised). He wants to go out for dinner and celebrate (that at least he's alive) but outside food prolly isn't the healthiest.

What's good food for injuries, does anyone know?

Cheesy Destiny.

There are moments in life when you think back to years gone by, and realise that there have been definitive moments that hint and tell you: this is what you're gonna be.

We don't realise these moments though, often too caught up with cleaning up after people and feeding the dog.

I think my moment just hit me as I walked out of our office toilet and saw the mess that was 'my' table (it's not really mine, we have to share due to lack of space).

It hit me that at 12, I was the fastest typer in my computer class and the only kid who could type with all her fingers no less.

It hit me that when I was 16, I LOVED to log on IRC and chat up strangers (who are now my friends), 'interview' them to find out about their life.

It hit me that in high school, I won our school English competition for three years in a row.

It hit me that in college, I'd go around the hostel from room to room asking if anyone wanted any help with their assignments and beg them to let me type it out for them while they dictate (I know, freaky huh?)

It hit me that in university I'd hand up assignments a week before deadline, make the tutor browse through it and if she thought it could be better, I would redo the entire thing. Also, I churned out a 10,000 word thesis on copyright law in cyberspace (something I know nothing about) in a month and still got a B+.

It hit me that the highlights of my previous job in that sad, sad company in Kuching, was getting to liase with the media and writing press releases that were printed out word for word.

Alli asked if all the moves we had to make was worth it.

I think 10 years down the line, when I walk out of a toilet and get one of those moments, I'd say it was.

(Unfortunately, such opportunity for moments have yet to present themselves, hence I am disinclined to feel fortunate about present circumstances).