[Story: A Day at the Barbecue Picnic]

The Malaysian Students’ Association at the University of Minnesota held a barbecue picnic at Van Cleave Park yesterday evening around six and everyone was invited cordially. It was held in celebration of several occasions. The end of summer classes, the annual obligation for the summer season, the "world premiere" of Iman (the new hot female freshman) and bidding a farewell party to the seniors leaving the U are to name a few. Some arrived early to help prepare the food (I was whisking the flies away from hovering onto the marinated chicken) while others came late just to gobble down what was already served on the table (you cheeky bastards!). We had charcoal-grilled chicken, oil-soaked fried noodles, warm orange juice, half of a whole fruit of watermelon and a small box of cherry-flavored ice cream. The watermelon ran out first because the guys who dealt with the barbecue fire kept eating them nonstop. Next, the one box of ice cream was gang-banged by the many that could not wait until the main course was ready. The food was great (it was free, so be grateful) and the weather was nice. In the end, everybody was several pounds fatter, their skins oilier and socially happier. Around 9:30 PM, I arrived home and wasted the night surfing the Net, looking for pictures of the teenage Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen (my latest underage girls fetish).

[Fantasy Interlude: If Only It Were This Easy]

The room was so crowded that Lalat’s bowl hat seemed like a coconut floating down the river of humans. He walked around in search of someone he had never seen or known before. From person to person, he whispered the name of that someone he was looking for and from one to the next, they kept saying that they do not know her or had even heard of such name. Lalat did not give up and kept on staring at every face in that crowded room. His face was tinted with panic and anxiety. He moved from one wall to the opposite and from one group of people to another but still no avail. He was more worried. They kept saying ‘No’ and ‘I am sorry’. He was starting to feel that this pursuit was going nowhere. He wanted to stop looking but he knew that it was important to find this person. So, he decided for a final effort.

"If this doesn’t work, then I’ll just go home", he assured himself. There was a punch bowl table a few feet away from where he was standing. The punch had almost dried. Lalat forced his way to the punch bowl table. His strong arms swept the crowd to their sides, like he was swimming in a pool of mud. Upon reaching the table, he climbed it and thrust his chest towards the ceiling, landing on both feet on top of the table. Bang! The room became silent. All eyes were on that madman on the punch bowl table, standing tall and proud and breathing incoherently. As soon as he caught his breathing pace back, he raised his head high and nervously yelled from on top of his lungs.

"Could whomever name is Lina or any other variation of that, here present in this room, please raise your hand so I could see you?"

A few people looked at each other, craning their necks, asking for an explanation to what was going on. A slight murmuring sound started to fill the crowded room. Lalat became restless and so was the crowd. His eyes kept sweeping the room for raised hands but there was none. He grew more desperate.

"Anybody?"

Still there was no progress from that. No arms were raised, just the muttering voice of confusion. He decided to try for the last time.

"I need to see you, Lina! It’s about the journal, my online journal."

Immediately, the crowd’s chattering began to echo the room’s four walls. More heads were frantically going from side to side, nodding and shaking and mouths were gossiping faster and louder.

"Please!"

Slowly, at the far end of the room, one tiny arm was raised, hanging to the open air, fingers clenching and idly waving. Lalat worn eyes beamed with excitement and relief as he spotted it from the punch bowl table. "There she is, at last." He could not identify the face of the arm’s owner amongst the crowd but was fairly sure he had found the person he was looking for.

Instantly, he jumped off the table’s edge and pushed his way afire towards her direction. He had his eyes fixed to her standing spot and was rushing faster and faster as he got closer to her. With one big shove, Lalat was finally standing in front of her. She stepped back a bit. His breath was so loud and heavy that Lina looked a little scared by him. She did not look him in the eyes because he was staring at her so deeply. Lina did not know what to do and kept silent and waited for Lalat to stop gasping. Then, he spoke first.

"Are you Lina?"
"Yes, well, no. My name is Azlina."
"Yes, yes, Azlina is fine. Are you a friend of Ed?"
"Ed Nadhra? Yes, I know her."
"You read my journal before?"
"I used to. Yes."
"And then you stopped coming, correct?"
"Yes."
"But why?"
"Excuse me?"
"Why did you stop coming?"
"It was not funny anymore."
"Really?"
"Yes, it became more and more about you and just you yourself."
"It is supposed to be that way! It’s my journal!"
"I know that, but I prefer the old you. The insulting one, the one poking fun at people, making jokes about other people’s weaknesses."
"And you liked him, this old me?"
"Yes."
"Oh, you did. I see."
"I am sorry, but it’s just a matter of choice. I still have my highest respect for you and your work. Don’t be sad."
"Oh, I am okay."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah. Thank you for your time."

Dumbfounded, Lina stood still and with her eyes filled with sorrow as Lalat turned around and walked sluggishly towards the exit.

[Story: What is Actually the Issue Here?]

"Your new layout is horrible!"
"Huh?"
"I am talking to you. It’s horrible! Believe me, it is. Don’t you know anything about HTML?"
"Actually, no. I just changed the templates."
"You must change it back to the former. The one that you put on before is easier on the eyes."
"Oh, okay."
"Anyhow, what do you want to say to them?"
"Them who?"
"The guys. I am going back to Malaysia soon and probably will have an outing together with them. Meet them somewhere."
"You mean, all the other journal writers?"
"Yeah. Jae, Udika and all. I was planning to make a stop in Singapore, but I canceled it. We are close."
"Oh."
"So?"
"You want me to say what?"
"Don’t you know that they thought you and I are conspiring to poke fun at them?"
"Really?"
"Yeah. I was attacked from all sides, you know. It was your doing!"
"Sorry then."
"Listen. I have known these guys even before you were there. Longer than you’ve had."
"You mean, the veterans?"
"Yeah. Do you know Anas?"
"No."
"Never mind him."
"So?"
"You were more fun when you were that guy, that insulting one. You wrote things which were insulting and that’s good."
"Insulting? In what way?"
"You know, you keep on insulting other people and you wrote openly about why you hate somebody. Insulting them face on, you know? Even Lina said that your page is not enjoyable anymore because it’s mellower now. She has stopped visiting now."
"Lina?"
"Yeah. Azlina, my friend at Purdue."
"Oh, Purdue!"
"Don’t you have a tracker?"
"Used to, but then I stopped using it. It worried me a lot."
"You kept guessing who is visiting your site?"
"Yes."
"So, what do you want me to say to them?"
"What is actually the issue here?"