First of all:

Terrorists didn't bomb my hotel.

No drugs were stuffed in my bag.

I didn't lose my virginity to a Balinese woman.

And I had a blast (no pun intended).

Five days in Bali.  After weeks of mulling over it, I finally decided to take a vacation somewhere...anywhere. So why Bali? One, it was cheap. Two, it was near. Three...it was cheap. Yes, I'm a typical Chinaman who values a low-cost holiday over my life.

But what an experience!  I don't think I scratched the surface of what one could do in Bali...and factoring in a relatively tight budget, I still managed to jet-ski, scuba-dive, go sight-seeing near a volcano, play with turtles, snakes, monkeys, visit temples, para-sail, watch sunsets and lie like a bum on the beach.

I also went alone, which felt quite depressing at first. But it turned out to be a surprisingly great move, as I discovered I could do what I want, for as long as I wanted.  I doubt anyone would have wanted to walk with me around Kuta for four hours, but I enjoyed it immensely.

It turns out I learnt a few things about myself.  For one, I realised I love soaking into a certain kind of environment.  Away from my comfort zone, I forced myself to mix with the locals, who delighted in showing me the nooks and crannies of their beautiful island.  One took me to a coffee plantation near the hills, and we spent almost one hour chatting with workers while sipping freshly-roasted coffee.  Another took me on his motorcycle on a tour around Jimbaran (one of the tourist hot-spots), and brought me to his favourite seafood cafe to eat ikan bakar.  Another taught me scuba diving for a cheap price.  I drank it all in, and loved every minute of it.

I also realised that I am a scenery-freak.  Specifically, I'm a sky freak.  And whether it was on the hill-tops of Kintamani overlooking Mount Batur, one of Bali's two active volcanoes, or my 6pm ritual of sitting on the beach gaping smack-jawed at the sunset, there were plenty of sky to savour.

I'm not sure why, but the sky fascinates me.  It's this huge canvas filled with an array of colours and beautifully crafted clouds.  It all reminds me of the greatness of my Creator.  He's so big...and a big mystery.  Where is He in that universe above me? It's almost like God is hiding behind the very clouds he creates.  I can't really see Him...is He there somewhere?

For me, that's one of the greatest tensions of my Christian faith: knowing that I'll never fully grasp and understand the glory of this limitless Being called 'God'...yet still learn to sense His presence in my world anyways.  It must be a leap of faith, the steps of the deranged, to follow a Divine who you can never really pinpoint and say, "There He is!"  Maybe that's why it's so much easier for churches to reduce God and our faith to easy principles and standards - it's so much safer to listen to preachers trying to simplify Him than trying to let our hearts listen to His leading.

But as I looked at the sunset, I pledged my heart to follow the God Behind the Clouds.  I can't really see Him...but He is there and present.  He is involved in the heart of this adventurer, and I can't wait for the destiny He has in store.

Which, I believe, includes a special companion.  My wife-hunting trip in Bali didn't yield any fruit...but I have candidates! So should I choose:

a)

b)

c)


d)

"Stay hungry.  Stay foolish."

- Steve Jobs.
j

Seventeen days into the afterlife (also known as 'Life after Star'), and something has dawned on me - there's more than just one me. Let me introduce you to them:

There's Total Bum Jon, who sits and watches Jack Bauer kick some terrorist butt on the fourth season of 24 for the most part of the day.

There's Socialite Jon, who goes and meets long lost friends for lunch, dinner and supper.

There's Introspective Jon, who finds a nice quiet cafe, and sips his English Breakfast tea while doing his SOAP devotions (and reading FHM in between).

There's Lau Sai Jon, who spends half the day on the toilet bowl thanks to a continuously bad case of diarrhoea, and no thanks to McDonald's Spicy Chicken.

There's Filial Jon, who uses his day to eat lunch and swim with his parents, and his nights watching any flick with Mom and Dad.

Well, as of yesterday, there's a new addition to the family.

TV Jon.

Yes, that's me, suit, tie, make-up and the works. It was my first foray into the world of television as a co-host. The programme? Absolute Football, where these three supposedly learned experts on football give their opinions and insights into the world of the Italian and Spanish league. Yes, stop laughing, I do know a thing or two about football.

Nervous would be an understatement in describing my inner world, but it got much better as it went on. Somehow, when I watched the recording, I was really embarassed by how I looked. Producers said I was alright though, so that's something. But, from feedback from friends, colleagues and fans (cheh, I wish), I must remember next time:

1. Don't wear my Simpsons socks to the next episode.

2. Change my horrible looking black shoes to something more...formal.

3. Stop saying 'yeah..' before every sentence (thanks G)

4. Add more facial expressions other than Stoned, Slightly Less Stoned and the Raised Eyebrow Glance.

5. Argue with my colleagues more.

Huge fun! The gig is only part-time though, so this alone won't contribute to my honeymoon fund. But for the experience, and so that I can tell my children something interesting about my younger days, this definitely was a blast.

And in case you don't believe me, and think that picture above might be a picture of my brother, here's another shot (with my name, cool huh?):

j

I really miss you guys.

j

Work doesn't induce you to crave for more toys. It makes you hope for something bigger than that.

G