Frag | Men | Ta | Tion

The wants and needs

2012-01-29T22:45:00.000Z

So want a cat and a dog...my womb pines and pines for them.

Thank goodness the same cannot be said for a real human baby.

While the idea appeals insofar that a baby would be an amalgamation of The Boy and me and I want to know who it'd look like,that's where the desire ends. I do not want to pay for it. I do not want to raise it. I do not want the responsibility, heartache and exhaustion associated with child-rearing.

And I rather pay for new clothes than baby food. 'nuff said.

Cat/dog though...

Patience.

One day I will be stable enough for that.

Soon!

Taking advice

2012-01-28T13:31:00.000Z

Honestly.

If I seek advice I'd ask.

I do not need offhand remarks to suck it up.

And at the same time I do not need to feel judged.

For my choices in life.

For sucking it up and getting on with it.

(Or is it that I've grown such a streak of independence.

And cannot accept criticisms of any kind.

They bring me right back to my younger days.

When I do not like being told what to do.

I like to believe I have cultivated.

The moral compass and the judgement.

To know right from wrong.)

2012-01-16T10:05:00.000Z

Dear Faith and Fate,

I know I’ve asked of you two things recently.

Maybe I wasn’t sincere enough.

Maybe it was too much bargain-like.

Maybe it’s because I’ve not been giving enough and trusting enough and believing enough, that I came to you only in times of need.

So maybe I have no right to ask at all.

Much less expect.

I’ll leave it up to you, Wise One.

I cannot See, so I just have to accept.

Knock knock

2012-01-14T02:34:00.001Z

*Pssst*

Hello you.

I'm still here.

Still alive.

I've left the world of blogging in favour of privacy. Life became a little monotonous, despite the changes heaped on me over the past year. Because I'm still..here.

It's been one big year.

I'll talk about it one day. Maybe.

Meanwhile, just a shout out to say that boo-boo I made in my last post, nearly a year ago? Ah it didn't matter.

Yeah, Happy Chinese New Year to you too.

2011-02-05T00:54:00.000Z

Probably the least Chinese-y, festive one yet. In other words, I had a day off, went for some tapas and a museum visit.

And came back to work where it went tits up. I made a big boo-boo aand now I feel so, so, so sorry and embarassed and worried about what I've inadvertedly done.

People not thinking you're working hard is a hard pill to swallow. Especially when it isn't true. After a life of overachieving, I've brought that principle and work ethic with me and I thought I'm doing okay. According to some people perhaps, it was wrong.

Sometimes I wonder what I am doing, y'know? 11 years of school, 2 years of college and 3+1 years in university later...where am I? Sales environment is so brutal. Your background doesn't matter unless it's one that's involved figures and margins and profits and revenues. I know in my heart of hearts I'm not cut out for it and never will be. I don't disdain it but I have no patience for the culture that comes with it.

'tis not me, enough said.

It's just that phrase made famous by some TVB actress.
I admit fate but I'll never admit defeat.

Also I recognise I cannot run away forever, and this is yet another lesson in life I need to learn. And in order to learn in I need to get on with it, and go through it.

It's the rat race and for what it's worth, I am part of it now. It's just life, innit?

Because of that phrase "not good enough", I spent years in uni over-compensating. And I know once I get over the chagrin, I will try to over-compensate, it's not that it hasn't happened yet, but the desired effect hasn't been achieved. It hurts, because I take it hard, I care too much, and take it personally.

What can I do? Just get on with this one and work hard.

:(

This really, truly takes the cake for a Chinese New Year that never came.

This is one story full of shit I've read.

2011-01-13T22:52:00.002Z

Commitment!

Leong Chi Wei

Bachelor of Finance (Hons)

Class of March 2010

When I was a student in UTAR, "thinking" was my favorite activity as it enabled me to explore life and to understand further what life really was as well as my role and contribution towards family, friends and the community then.

I always ensure myself to develop plans and set goals to excel in all aspect of my life- family, friends, studies, curricular activities etc. It is all about being truly committed to achieve your goals set in order to make family & friends feel proud of you, and at the same time contributing to the community and nation building.

Very often, I find people tend to ignore the importance of goal setting in their lives and therefore would just head to nowhere and depend on how luck plays along the way. Without a target, a person is not motivated to achieve something that would benefit the family and community and that, in my opinion, is a very selfish act. When a person has the potential to do something that would benefit others, he should strive to achieve that.

While some may claim that they do set their goals, but how committed are they in achieving the goals? Unfortunately, more often than not, goals are not achieved simply due to lack of commitment resulted from low level of determination and perseverance.

With goals and commitment, I would say I am happy with my days in UTAR as a student representative who had contributed to the students' welfare and development. Time management skills came in handy then as I needed to balance my time for family, friends, studies, sports and student representative duties.

Presently I am a unit trust consultant with Public Mutual assisting clients in financial planning. It is always nice to help others improve their financial position as this would enable them to solve their financial problems and achieve financial freedom in future. Besides, those contributions are in line with Malaysia Vision 2020 to become a developed and a high-income nation and that is the reason I choose the career.

It's always not easy to make changes for better life but it is possible with a full commitment. To do that, first you need the courage to step out of your comfort zone and pledge to strive forward at any cost to achieve success in life that would eventually contribute to the society.

Lastly, feel free to drop me an email or text me to keep in touch with one another. Email: cn_leong@hotmail.com Hp No: 017-6593817.

This came through the UTARian January Newsletter. Glad I never participated in its self-praising fest, especially by inflated egos patronising the rest of his peers for being 'lesser'.

Short musings

2011-01-09T00:18:00.001Z

I had this thought in my head since yesterday, I think it came from something I watched on telly..maybe, possibly...I don't know, I have very short-term memory and my memory retention is close to nil these days. It may actually be fair to call me an air-head.

Ah, but I remember now. It was from the book I'm currently reading (Beautiful as Yesterday, Fan Wu). Something about a really good writing programme in Colombia.

At least I think that's Colombia...

Aaaanyway, point is, do you need to go through a programme (undergrad, postgrad, whatever) to be a good writer? Most probably not, but if I have the luxury of choosing, would I go to one? Well, not creative writing cos I just don't do creative writing, but critical thinking and writing, yes, in a heartbeat.

What makes reading someone's writing worthwhile? It's not enough that someone has a story to tell, but the story need to be told in an engaging way to capture an audience. There must be story development and not just skimming the surface of people, emotions, places...you know the gist.

Like how lecturers moan that it's not enough to teach, they have to do it in an entertaining, informative way, droners go nowhere...but that's how it is, isn't it? I've said it years ago, charisma is important, and I'm glad this particular teenage wisdom of mine still holds true (although regrettably probably quite a few won't).

But also, I think in order to write, one must have something to say...which explains my lack of blogging, I suppose, because more often than not I have nothing to say that is of importance or amusement enough to warrant a sit down and a think.

Hell, I don't bother dissecting much myself, and reading Xiaxue's longer blogs sometimes make me realise she's written well thought-out arguments, and bothered to put them in a logical sequence.

Suppose that's what writing's all about, no?

I think writing allows me to think, to piece together my thoughts, to elaborate on what I'm thinking, and to put it all in a logical order. I'm thinking right now as I type. This is the random thought in my mind right this second.

I wonder if this is the thought process of most people, or do they think first, and then put it down and set it in stone, so to speak?

I really did enjoy the practicalities and learning of media in uni, and I really actually do miss it. I want to go back in time to savour it all once more, not that I wasn't aware the first time around. I do regret not carrying on with media studies and picked up politics instead (what was I thinking, ack!), but it's now in the past, who knows, one day, maybe I can afford to go back to school. Now I cannot, and now I have a job to go to and bills to pay and life to carry on, but I'm glad that just reading about writing ignited thoughts in my head that I haven't had in a while.

Passion, passion is something I need to find, a reason to live and a meaning of life.

Season's Greetings and all that...

2010-12-27T21:22:00.006Z

...yes, some down time after a few mind-numbingly frantic months, and currently I'm doing nowt that can be counted as substantially productive.

How can this be that I'm now this sloth-like person with not much motivation or zest for life, and life is work, weekend, work, weekend, rinse and repeat?

Where's that sense of adventure and curiousity?

Hibernation and awaiting financing. That's what.

Money is the biggest obstacle...that, and dragging a less wander-lusty boy about.

That being said, I'm off to Newcastle to see Shean tomorrow, and to get some dimsum down my parched throat.

A hilarious little nugget meanwhile: I bought a HTC Desire off Amazon late in Nov, and as we all know, England was crippled by the earlier heavy snow and cold weather, I mean, granted I was here to witness it all afterall it was perishingly cold (cannot forget that one morning I waited in -13C temperatures for my lift to work), and the seller, for reasons unknown, decided to send it a few days late, AFTER the heavy snowfall. Result?

My phone never arrived.

After some amiable 'how now?' and 'oh nos' with the seller, I got my refund and before Christmas even arrived, my hands itched and went click, click, click. I checked on other HTC Desires on offer on Amazon again. I really really craved it, I wanted a smartphone for what must've been a year now only to wait and wait, and when I finally bought one, I wanted it there and then. I so nearly had it as well, but no, it's still stuck in some depot somewhere (or perhaps it's in the warm hands of a postie, I don't know), so with the refund I went ahead and ordered another one. Emailed the seller to please send it tracked. He replied by saying, no, not sending the phone to Nigeria unless he's been paid.

WTF?

But it was just a small misunderstanding, he had people trying to con him, and all's good. He sent it tracked the next day, and here's me thinking, oh with the Christmas rush (it was only 2 days before Christmas), I best send it to the office (safer), plus it'll only arrive way after Christmas, right?

Wrong.

It arrived on Christmas Eve. The first day I was off work. That night, I checked the tracking, and kicked myself. Because now the earliest I could get it would be Wednesday when the office reopens, which was then 4 days away. But nooo, Wednesday I'm in Newcastle! I'm only back in York Thursday afternoon, late. I have a window of an hour and half to take a bus to the office to retrieve my phone. Would it be worth the effort?

I think so.

So Thursday I'll go to the office even though I'm clearly still on leave.

£"$%^&^%$£"!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Apologies, that little nugget of a story wasn't so little now, huh.

*************************

You know, with 2010 nearly done and dusted now, I feel so much less sentimental than I used to be to see a passing year. In fact, a lot of things changed, but a year's just another year.

My brain these days is slightly muddled and murky, like, I have no clear thoughts or even attempted to clear my thoughts. It's just one day to another. But also, I cannot deny this: I am sad. I don't know over what, but a blanket of sadness and worry covers my head and torments me almost every night. I think I'm just worried about the future, or rather, about having no future.

I want to be happy, but that's so hard to achieve.

I don't feel sexy, or pretty, or good about myself, because I don't have the self-belief, or confidence.

I don't feel intelligent, or knowledgeable, or wise, because I don't have the answers.

And this place is very difficult a place for me to be in.

Maybe this is truly the first time in my life that I don't feel secure because there's no beginning and end to look forward to, like finishing school, or graduating, or finishing a contract? Not many friends here, although I'm so grateful and so blessed with a couple of friends yet that I can still talk with sometimes...

I know now for a fact that I've lost certain people, and I thought I'd come to terms with it, but like ghosts and phantoms, they resurrect and haunt, and I'm still learning the art of letting go. Love is truly a strange thing, both to give and to receive.

Like I said, I've not analysed this properly on purpose. I've not written down my thoughts, or anchored it with anything.

I don't need more thinking, you see. I need new interests, and faith.

And a bit more money.

Aiyaaaaaaa!

The feeling of Sadness...

2010-12-12T17:48:00.007Z

Posted this originally as a comment on Mabel Teoh's blog on the suicide of Alviss Kong

My first inkling of this incident came on Facebook when I saw a link posted by someone to someone else's blog telling a girl off for claiming to be suicidal and to go do an "Alviss Kong" instead of creating more drama.

After a little snooping around, I found the articles and stories...long story short, Alviss was in love with a girl, and had a 4-month relationship with her, which ended despite him 'confessing 5 times' to her - and he jumped off a building (for reasons apparently ranging from to prove his love for her, to not being able to handle the rejection...I'm not sure and won't claim to understand).

True enough at 22, and on his second relationship, he hasn't gained the maturity to understand love isn't always mutual and often go unrequited. Four months may have seemed an eternity. Perhaps it's effects of Chinese pop culture - I've always wondered why Chinese loves songs are so melancholic, so full of rejection, death and pining - the idea and romanticism of love in a culture that ironically isn't all that romantic and more often, plagued with practicalities, tradition and conservative in-laws. It affects the young who pined over someone for years, and gained the idea that once they're in love with someone, they have to possess the subject and when spurned, they have to stalk, hurt and destroy the subject's happiness, or not allow anyone else to be with the poor person, either. It's all typical stories, and I've heard about them in various degrees about acquaintences (of acquaintances)...if only we all learn to be more siu sa or 冷淡 about it...

But I digress.

It is the ugly comments and posts of fellow Malaysians, that highlight how unforgiving, judgmental and shallow the society is.

Everyone played the blame game, those without sympathy said so with such derision ...and so very very few showed kindness or empathy. Is it true our collective emotional quotient is so low, so few learned to show aa bit of kindness and understanding towards others?

I remember the case of the Singaporean medical student who died in a hit and run in London on her birthday, and felt so sad for her lost life. But a bit of googling revealed the comments by Singaporeans questioning why she's outside the hospital she worked in at that late hour, as if it was of utmost importance. Some poured unfounded accusations of her being a sex worker out at night (like so many other Singaporeans who abused their student status, apparently), and showed their contempt at her for being a scholarship holder at Cambridge (green-eyed monsters, anyone?). You know the saying 'if you have nothing good to say, say nothing at all?'

The Internet and the anonymity it provides allow nameless and faceless people to pour their shit wherever they want. Instead of expression of sadness or shock or condolences, people receive contemptuous, cruel, thoughtless comments and jeers. Medium is the message though.

This is just a microcosm of our society and culture, one so steeped deeply in me by my mum and peers, the culture I've tried hard the last two years to cut my ties and untangle the webs from...it's a kiasu society stricken by a structural lack of empathy and understanding towards those who are sad, or different. Those whose aspirations don't fall into the typical line of study hard > great career > marriage > car & house > children. A culture that refuses to acknowledge there are different ways of life. It is a society that can be so cruel with thoughts and words, and one that can stand aside to watch others suffer and not lift a finger to help, while maintaining a commentary of cruel comments for their own amusement. A society that both cared too much about what others think but at the same time, is extremely individualistic and self-centred. A culture of superficiality, maintaining appearances and refusal to seek out depth of understanding on emotion. One that's quick to point out someone is chi sin, or chi ma gan, ngong ...the deragatory terms go on and on. What mentality is this?

***

I'm rambling on slightly, but how people reacted to Alviss, and to Mingwei's deaths, both for such vastly different reasons, made me recoil with disgust.

Because I am a product of this society, and I too had my reckonings and learning to be indifferent and different, and why I am staying away. It's not really easy, especially with the feelings of isolation and having no one I could relate to, or talk to. Especially lately as I fight this blanket of pain, anger, sadness and helplessness that suddenly drop on me for no particular reason at all. Lately I feel hopeless and ready to give up, and yet, I have to tread carefully, maintain my sanity and present a normal person to the world, when my insides are screaming. Because I know to show weakness is to ask for trouble and judgment.

Where do I go?

But I'm okay. I'm okay.

***

Was it worth a life, your life?
You claim you love her and now you've given her
A lifetime of haunting.
Regrets and sorrow.
The living have to continue living.

My condolences

Some counter-thoughts...

2010-11-06T23:17:00.009Z

I haven't done this in ages now, putting some analytical thoughts into this poor neglected blog of mine, and there's a little more reasons to it than me simply being lazy...

But this little nugget is interesting. I found this one by chance. It was a blog entry by a fellow Malaysian who was not born Malaysian but grew up in Malaysia (herein known as M)...and how M said she's always been told she's "doing it wrong" because of the subtle cultural differences she experience growing up in Malaysia.

And the only way she can fit in is to take on the Malaysian culture, 100%.

But...what is the 100% Malaysian culture? From my point of view, I always felt slightly rejected (possibly because I was fat, angry and defensive), and just never been wholly part of the social scene that my friends seemed so comfortable in. I didn't understand it back then, experienced the teenage angst, the whole "Why me!" self-hate and self-pity fest (and grew out of it), but maybe really, deep down, everyone just did what they have to do to fit in, and they just did a better job at fitting in than I did. How'd I know, since I never questioned it, that they were happy doing so, that they never secretly wanted to be different? Leaving Malaysia behind gave me the freedom to be who I am - the Malaysian I am - liberated from social norms and pressure. A little too outspoken, a little too wacky, a little odd for my homelanders' tastes maybe (but how'd I know? Maybe it's just all in my head afterall) but I am being me, but that doesn't detract from the fact that I am Malaysian, my identity shaped by how and where I grew up.

Also, being in the same level playing field as anyone else who isn't British in England, like M is foreign where M is, although I don't see that as a "privilege", I am able to and I do get on with them lovely English people, and while I do make a bit of an effort to pick up the accent, I don't do much of anything else to fit in desperately. The fact is, I'm just from a land faraway and there's little expectations of me from locals. Maybe that's the privilege and opportunity I have - But this fact is still far from making me a "model Asian", because I'm still not a typical Malaysian, or Oriental, or Asian (apart from my obsession with -good- food) person or a model or an illustration of anything, and again, how would I ever know if the mainstream or dominant culture here accepts me? I don't go out much or drink, for example, and that makes me an oddity here. But neither does the boyfriend, and he's actually English, so does that make him unacceptable or that he's "doing it wrong"?

Also, to this point, I am the only, well, Oriental person in a company that has over 120 employees, but again, I just don't see myself being hired as the "Token Asian". I'd hate the thought of that. I know they offered me a job because I was awesome at my interview, not because they wanted to up their cultural diversity levels (although it may have been a bonus point to them, but the decision would've still be made solely on merit). Also, the argument that others aren't easily accepted because they didn't assimilate could be rendered null and void because others just didn't make that effort to. Many students here stick to their own groups, culture and language - be they Spanish, Cypriots, Indians, Chinese or Malay - and they're comfortable being in the outside fringes of English society, insulated by the shared identities and I do not blame them for that. People stick to what they're familiar with just like how I turn to a pack of Maggie Kari and a mug of Milo (with good English cream) for comfort.

As much as I perceive myself as a Malaysian, I still went through the identity confusion, anger and feeling of rejection by how racial politics were played at home. I felt it acutely and took it personally when I was told "jika you tak suka, you balik Cina", like "oi, I am the third generation born here and as Malaysian as anyone else, who the hell are you to think you have the right to tell me to get out?"

But as much as I feel passionate, and as much as I know (or don't know) Malaysia, I still wouldn't speak for Malaysia. I'd speak about it though, but I will never claim to speak for or represent Malaysia. In fact, I always wondered if I'm spreading untrue or inaccurate facts about Malaysia based on my personal experience and always make a disclaimer. I won't say the same about the remarks I made about Singapore though! But I'm NO token Malaysian or Asian. I'm just me, and I just get on with things, and find my own place to belong to.

In the last two years, I learned a lot, and this is the one knowledge I gain - to let go of some of my past prejudices, and to gain wisdom from my experience.

Just because I'm a Chinese ethnically, it doesn't mean I'm less Malaysian, or have less right to talk about my nation or my culture. I have a heritage, and I won't reject that. I'm taking away no one's ability to speak for themselves and their culture, and I learn to explore my own culture, society, language and identity, both ethnically and nationally, at my own pace, because I have no need to answer to anyone. I'd never call China my home, but it doesn't make me less interested in where my forefathers came from, but I know where my loyalties lie.

But really, it's not a privilege to get on with "Westerners" as a "model/token Asian", that distasteful thought just does not sit well with me.

(Enough to spur me to blog about it, although the thought did strike me that maybe I misinterpreted the "privilege" part, because I haven't asked M about it, I cannot be entirely sure I understood what M meant, and this is once more, my personal viewpoint based on an individual's understanding.)

I miss...

2010-11-01T22:32:00.001Z

...being young.

The older you get, the more your dreams seemed out of reach.

And then, even the dreams fade, to be replaced by practicality and drudgery of life.

This must be what they call 'settling'.

Busy-ness

2010-09-29T09:15:00.000+01:00

I think it may be the first time in my life where I was thrown straight into a routine and had no time to think.

I understand what it's like to be a Dilbert in a cubicle.

For I have joined the mindless workforce known as 'office workers' and is now an OL (although whether I qualify or not - leaving the house with only eyeliner and sometimes no makeup at all and zero heels) and the days are inundated by emails and filled with administrative work (no filing though, unless moving emails from my inbox to folders count)...and I only have maybe 2-3 minutes at a time to look at Facebook during lunchtime and by the time I go home all I want is dinner and then to fall asleep watching telly.

Rinse and repeat.

Weekends are filled with 'exploring the city', going to the supermarket, cooking, cleaning up (must do laundry this weekend!) and suddenly, it's Monday again.

Ahhh the life of a drone!

First time in weeks I have a few minutes and a few thoughts to spare.

Until next time then!

DIY man

2010-09-01T12:45:00.000+01:00

The Boy: I'm really proud of the chest of drawers from Argos I DIY-ed! Despite the bag of missing screws! Can I be a stay-at-home bf and do this all day every day?

Me: NO.

It just hit home...

2010-08-24T02:55:00.001+01:00

...that I'm moving.

On Friday.

I have a gawdawful dream last night...before falling asleep I was fretting about the photos and cards and stuff still on my walls, and then I dreamed that it was Friday and the van man lugged everything into his van and I was wailing about my photos on the wall and he was dragging me by my arm.

And I am packing ahead of time anyway considering I'm not moving til Friday afternoon...but better early than late, no?

And the waiting is over and the prayers' answered...and I'm so grateful, so so grateful.

One problem over. This time next week I'd have finished my first day at work.

Without even realising it I'm counting down the days til I start work. Eeeeeks!

I think this year living with people has been successful...cos I held my tongue, let things be, and avoided bickering and confrontations. I'm happy I've lived in close proximity with the same people for a year now, and not had a single ugly moment. I think it's a milestone. I'm getting better. I hope! *fingers crossed*

Wishing and praying

2010-08-18T01:22:00.000+01:00

This sucks.

I know I'm responsible for myself, and I truly enjoy doing that. But this current crisis sucks. I can't find a flat or a shared house in York. Well, I can, but I can't find what I liked, and have it, too.

I don't like how things are so out of my control. That I'm at the mercy of not just my own, but also another person's limited spending power. That so much rides on whether someone took a shine on us, or not.

I hate the waiting, I can't help how anxious I feel and how angry I get and how worked up I become while I wait. With a mixture of hope and dejection. Of not daring, but still going for it.

Rippling out from the deepest of my soul, the negativity and bad juju not just affects, but consumes me whole and I turn monstrous. I am truly and utterly ashamed of myself, and of my shameful behaviour, reaction and mindset.

Lately, in an introspective phase, I begin to truly wonder if I can be content. That lesson that I never learned. Still have not. I know I'm young, and I choose this path of uncertainty and unpredictables, but oh, the strength needed to sustain good, positive thoughts and keep going on.

I am truly scared of myself. Of how unhappy I am willing to be. How I dwell so much on the bad and dismiss the good. And lately, how easily my thoughts creep to giving up when I don't deserve to, when new and exciting things are happening and big changes abound. It's just that the end results remain the same: no matter which way I see it, I end up back where I started. And these couple of years, I could chalk it up to amazing experience, but I choose to see it as an abrupt end to a long-term project I started and not ready to finish yet. Not by long shot. In short, why am I doing all this when in the end it means nothing?

Now you see what I mean? From a simple issue at hand, my mind dwells and digs up all the issues I face, short and long term, and hook them in my heart, clawing and scratching.

Underwater with no air.

I need to break into the surface pronto, and breath. With no cue. And stay there paddling.

I wish I am able to talk with those near and dear. I feel so alone. And worried. I wish I can share and get a sobbing shoulder, and relieve The Boy of his duties for a while. I am afraid of this: that I'm driving him away. And if there is indeed a Higher Being, and I am of the agnostic stock, then tonight I get on my knees and pray for relief. For the jigsaw to fall into place. For my sanity. For hope. And for belief. I pray.

Nigglings in my heart

2010-08-13T13:17:00.000+01:00

I knew it all along...

My mom (and I'm pretty certain my dad, to an extent) is disappointed with my choices in life.

From me studying political science, to my choice in men. And why I choose to stay so far away, and who I choose to make friends with...

And I struggle hard to keep away the nagging voices in my head, to learn to be my own person, and be okay with that.

And the voice of disapproval just never recede.

When will I, if indeed I can, truly break free?

When I'm swimming in money? When I find a man who will give me loads of money and not expect my silence and acquiescence in return? When my friends are in the who's who list and when my career makes me a who's who?

Earghhhhhhhhhhhh!

Dreams vs Reality

2010-07-21T03:43:00.002+01:00

A blog entry inspired by Joanna's blog post

It's 3.13am, I don't remember being awake at this hour for the best part of 4 months now, and I was mentally drafting a blog entry.

So I re-fired my laptop, and here it is.

The Boy has been so awesome to me.

He knew (from the umpteenth time I've ranted about it) about my life-long struggles with weight and lack of self-esteem and self-confidence, and my self-image issues. I recognise now that a huge amount of my issues came from my weight, but a lot also came from how my family, peers, society and I dealt with it.

I've lost quite a bit of weight a couple years ago, bla blah bla, but since being in England, lost a lot of my food inhibitions and embraced my inner Martha Stewart. Result: Meat grew on my bones. Again. And I tried to deal with this by alternating between controling what I eat and ignoring it.

My aunt recently commented on my weight gain on a photo on my Facebook. The Boy was sufficiently enraged. I wasn't so reactive, I've resigned to having my size, appearance and perceived weight gain and lost being scrutinised by all and sundry. He left a rather assertive comment below my aunt's comment. I showed my mum the offending photo.

Y'know what she said? "But, you have gone bigger these days!"

That's just how it is, isn't it?

Lately I've been fighting with my inner demons and my unwillingness to go home, or even at all near the society I grew up in. I see newly arrived Malaysian students in my neighbourhood and while I might mosey over for a nose, I'll never identify myself.

Joanna wrote about her (and mum's) dream as an 18 year old, and what to expect. To meet a decent Malaysian guy in uni - one who came from a decent, well-off background, to get married at 24, have kids couple of years later, a high-flying career and the standard-issue house, car, kids and pets.

Although my mum has never overtly put the same pressure on me (and in fact, told me to not settle for just any guy and that I should date a bit), for some reason I've put the pressure onto myself. Not with the guy, necessarily, but career-wise. I haven't been successful. At 24 I've got not much to show, and currently I'm not even employed. A disgrace!

And I could take the easy route and go home. But therein lies the problem. Each day I get 'out here', makes me guiltier for leaving my mum at home with my brother. Because she was ill, and because my brother had to be home and therefore not given the same freedom to go anywhere he'd like to go for days at a time. But yet, the environment is so toxic when I'm home.

I'm reminded almost each day what a failure I am as a daughter, a sister, a friend and a person - how selfish I am, how lazy, how inadequate. I've been driven to the brink many times, and the only reason I'm still here is because of the hope of escaping from it. The last time I was home, the thought of being able to fly away sustained me. I felt so guilty about wanting to leave, I cried on the plane. I asked myself if this is the right thing I'm doing. I'm still asking myself that question.

I think it is, for now. But I've learned demons follow a person. Mine are still haunting me, and through it all, The Boy has been an immense strength and support.

I still don't know how the story will be for the two of us, I wonder if I'm settling. Then again, he may be settling for me, too.

At the back of my mind, my dream man is a City worker, dashing, intelligent, intellectual, rich, well-traveled. Someone I can show off. Someone who can give me loads of dispensable cash. But in reality, The Boy isn't any of that...yet.

He is an artist; a laid-back, funny, down-to-earth, stubborn git. He is cute, endearing and surprisingly sensible and perceptive. He is close to his family, and while intelligent, is not an intellect. And we get on really well. For two people with nothing obvious in common, we're good together.

And I love him for being my strength, and for making me laugh, and for listening to my self-absorbed whinging, and for the person he is.

I don't know if there's any more dreams left in me - perhaps one or two. But reality is cold, and something I have to face, and I'm glad to have him with me on this leg of the rat race.

Endings

2010-07-14T09:16:00.000+01:00

...my internship that is.

Started yesterday, ended today.

Learned some, gained some and need more. Money, that is.

To the great job search, again.

I'm dejected, in truth...It drains the will of living out of a person, making one feel so insecure and inadequate of one's inabilities. But that's the way it is here, and I chose this path, so I will walk on.

Bruges was great, I will do a good blog post on it very soon, but on the ferry home...the dark waters beneath the ferry looked so inviting. It'd be so easy to just...jump in. While I'm still ahead. But is the situation bad enough? At all? Was I crazy? It is NOT end of the road for me.

So I took a moment to take stock, to look at the bigger picture. Yes, maybe it's time to go. Better now than in a year's time, when I still have not much to show, and not because of what I am incapable of. At least now I take away the most of what I have done; what I could do, but not have the opportunity to...and put it to good use elsewhere. "Free reins" was just an excuse, I'm not a salesperson.

I know what motivates me: That paycheque, the knowledge that what I do meant something, good communication and camaraderie, and that there's a team of supportive, equally enthusiastic workmates alongside me.

Will come back when I'm more cheery. Meanwhile, one gotta plod on.

Bye Pudu Jail

2010-06-21T15:55:00.000+01:00

I did not apply for a single job last weekend.

I was bad. :(

*Bad, lazy Puiyee! BAD!*

On another thought, Pudu Jail is apparently going down tonight (probably is in the midst of being demolished already as we speak). I only feel a bit sorry because I spent my memorable primary school years in its vicinity only to watch the surrounding areas change and transform with shocking speed and brutal efficiency ...all in the name of development.

The monorail and Berjaya Times Square wasn't even there when I went to school there. The building across our school was called Shaw Parade, and we used to go to the McDs on the ground floor there before computer classes. That main road separating our school from McDs was where I learnt to cross roads safely. Bukit Bintang Girl School existed when I was a kid, and I could see it from my mum's office when she worked in KL Plaza.

These days I barely recognise the entire area. The Pandan roundabout was no more to start with. I wouldn't know how to go to Jln Loke Yew if you ask me these days. Jalan Peel, Jalan Cochrane, Jalan Tambi Dollah and Jalan Changkat Jering remain only names from my childhood.

And today another landmark will be physically removed from us.

Development, the evil word, huh?

Source:Pudu Jail

But not from my memories.

Those are good. Those remain treasured.

NOTE TO SELF

2010-06-18T11:07:00.000+01:00

WILL APPLY FOR JOBS THIS WEEKEND, NO PROCRASTINATING, ELSE, ONE WILL PUNISH ONESELF.

Yes, I'm screaming at myself. That's right.

Weirdos abound

2010-06-17T11:03:00.001+01:00

Confession: I FaceStalk.

A lot.

It pleases me immensely to log on in the mornings (after a 12-hour hiatus) to check on people's not just status messages, but posted items/links, changes, photos, events, etc.

I'm born nosy. I blame momma and dadda.

Maybe it's my Asian genes?

ANYWAY.

Point is, there is quite a few people who I FaceStalk especially simply because they post constantly and they're a laugh. They run the gamut - from being plain stupid to plain vain to simply unbelievably retarded (but believes otherwise).

I enjoy. A LOT! :D

Same reason why I read blogs written by an unnamed American-wise-guy-former-'expat'-in-Singapore-who-had-a-row-with-Xiaxue. Because some people are truly unbelieable, y'know? Plagiarism! Nicking ideas off other people! Stating the obvious! Viewing the world in one dimension!

Now...I'm not saying I'm not a weirdo/retard/vainpot myself. I am. I just happen to have a bit more self-awareness.

Siapa makan cili, dia terasa pedas lah, ya?
*If you eat spice, you'll feel the heat*

Otherwise, don't be perasan lah!

Trying to reflect the mean karma with a mirror as I type

Holiday booked

2010-06-14T15:45:00.000+01:00

Well, not a holiday per se, more like a weekend getaway to Bruges, Belgium.

Itinerary
8 July
Sheffield --> Hull (train)
Hull --> Zeebrugge (overnight ferry)

9 July
Arrive in Zeebrugge --> Transfer to Bruges on coach
Explore city and check in hotel

10 July
Explore city
Evening coach from Bruges to Zeebrugge
Zeebrugge --> Hull

11 July
Hull --> Sheffield

Fingers crossed!

Twelve months today!

2010-06-08T12:28:00.000+01:00

For posterity's sake (I'm really usually not this sentimental *cough*) -

And regrettably, we're not going to do anything "special"...well, because it's middle of the week, he's at home and we do plenty special things together anyway *wink*.

I mean, we do plenty of walks, meals, shopping, visiting, films...

Couple of things on the pipeline though: Maybe a 2-person BBQ in a park this weekend if the weather permits and/or a Japanese meal.

Love ya, you shmelly poo

Hunger and karipap

2010-06-07T12:01:00.002+01:00

My stomach's been growling and grumbling for a while now. It's 11.53am and still at least half an hour before it is decent to have my lunch.

And I keep smelling curry puff (karipap to us Malaysians lah ya...) even though I think it's just the reduced continental loafs in my drawer (18p for 4!).

I'm thinking of Bruges or Amsterdam with the boy on either the 18th or 25th weekend.

We went to Leeds last Saturday but it was too warm and bright and sunshiny to do too much.

I cooked lamb shanks yesterday.

And I'd do many many things for one of these gems ~~preferably with a piece of boiled egg and many chicken chunks inside~~:

Credits

Oh mak aku...

Delivery boy

2010-06-02T11:05:00.000+01:00

Last night my housemate's Tesco delivery order arrived.

She was on the phone upstairs and her boyfriend was cleaning the toilet and trailing bleach.

I opened the door, greeted the guy, he looked at me, and was obviously taken in.

Small talks, passing around products ensued.

Tickles me to know I still *have it* despite being in an oversized uni hoodie.

*Pats back, me*

An entirely syiok sendiri post

Don't know now

2010-06-01T10:48:00.001+01:00

What do you do, when you know someone close is walking down the other path?

That it's a road of no-return, and their mindset, beliefs and faith, will all be so irrevocably different, so opposing and opposed of yours?

That the very core, essence, nature of your friendship, of the trust and love you placed on it, will have to change?

I've lost so much, and I'm losing this one more.

Feels like one more reason to hate.

Too many women?

2010-05-27T14:17:00.000+01:00

With the addition of another person into our house, we have a total of 4 females and one male living together in close quarters.

One evening, we all sat together to watch Ally McBeal and naturally, girl-friendly conversations ensued.

Our lone male housemate took a bottle of beer from the shelf, retired to the kitchen, tuned in to Hallam FM, and contemplated life.

And that's how I found him, sipping his beer.

'Too many women!', he said.

Classic.

A day in the life of...

2010-05-26T10:37:00.001+01:00

Bliss is...when the weather permits and you and your housemates walk to the market to shop; when you smell charcoal smoke wafting in the air; when you hear the sound of meat sizzling on the barbie, and when you have a huge chow-down session with loads meat, potato salad and laughter.

This is our very first BBQ of the year, despite the threatening rain (it did drizzle lightly at one point, we moved the BBQ to the alleyway between our house and neighbour's) it was amazing.

Then a week later, to celebrate my housemate Ally (long-awaited) finishing her dissertation, Hilary moving into the house, and mine and Tim J and Tim C's birthdays, and Marcia's internship with the British Red Cross (yes a lot of reasons to celebrate!), we had another BBQ.

It was a warmer, sunnier day as well.

Marcia wrapping up Tim C's present, our kitchen looked like a mini-disaster zone with plates, salad bowls and sauces spread around.

I do love this photo, it's really not that great it being unfocused and grainy...but it did capture the moment.

And finally, just to show off, my massive birthday card...

It's a good start to warmer weather, but I'm finally old enough to not want to tell people my age anymore.

Ish.

Bad habit

2010-05-21T14:20:00.000+01:00

When I'm in a supermarket or sandwich shop or newsagent...

I am always tempted to pick up a snack or two. And sometimes I succumb.

A bar of chocolate. A bag of crisps. A stick of Starburst.

But I never finish them. Actually, I don't even open them or look at them. They sit on my table for weeks and weeks, til Tim asks if he can have some. I always let him finish them off.

Aior...either I eat or I stop buying. Cos I have a lone packet of Salt & Vinegar Walkers Crisps on my desk and 2/3 of a stick of Starburst in my drawer that will remain uneaten now.

Brick wall

2010-05-20T09:55:00.004+01:00

Dear me,

I really, really need to talk. I just don't know who'd listen and help me analyse this. I've been feeling a tad low.

I wonder what it takes to make lasting relationships.

Because I seem to be the type who burns bridges every so often...and awful as it is, the last few weeks, I have been and still is tempted, to burn that one bridge that I have cultivated, watered, fed and nurtured for a year now. Well, more like built foundations, laid bricks, painted and tarmacked considering I'm speaking of a bridge...but anyhow, my heart is painfully telling me, I want out.

But immediately after that, I know how absurd it is, because there is no solid reason to, apart from my feeling bored and frustrated about how life is going in general. That I want to set myself free once again, into the world, and start again.

Reset.

I can't. The illusion that I have done it once came from the generousity of my dad. There will be no second chance, and rightly so. There's nothing left I'm allowed to ask beyond what I have already demanded.

Why? What is it?

Dancing on my tongue is the closest easiest reply: I'm afraid of commitment. I want to hold out.

But for what? How greedy can I get? When will enough really be enough for me?

I just feel at this moment, that life is on a bit of a freefall. I feel like I have no support, and I'm too prideful, too ashamed to ask. To admit I don't know, to admit how green I still am. I am on the verge of cracking, perhaps already am, but I can't pinpoint the exact reason(s), and it baffles me because I'm supposed to be a strong person. But a strong person doesn't snap and throw tantrums and sulk. And those are the very things I found myself doing to comfort myself, reminiscence of the young girl I was. The only element missing is the out-and-out yelling and arguing.

I just want to jump onto a ~~plane~~ train (volcano ash, less carbon footprints) and leave once again. When will I learn, truly learn to be in control? Why the relapses?

Heart, be still...

So much to say...

2010-05-14T10:54:00.000+01:00

...but really, nowhere to say it.

Because half (or most) are just thoughts floating in my head, the need to whinge and moan.

1. My tummy hurts :(

2. My hands are cold, the office is cold.

3. I don't wanna work today, still tired from yesterday.

4. I feel like cooking. Its extremely satisfying. Even if it goes wrong, it won't taste horrible. Because its usually just the case of not getting the 'right' taste, but I'm glad apart from being slightly heavy-handed with salt (and pepper), I've got good seasoning 'eye'

5. I'm slightly put out with The Boy. I don't know why. I know I shouldn't be. I'm being unreasonable. I'm feeling the sort of feelings I should not be feeling. I need to master them and be more rational. Do not let my heart rule over my head.

6. I have 7 hours til end of my work day.

7. My hands are still cold.

8. I want more money.

9. I wanna fly off somewhere again. Or take a train. Just go away.

10. Just Friday blues, shut up Puiyee.

An unusual feeling indeed

2010-05-06T00:43:00.001+01:00

And that feeling is, at the moment, pretty content.

Very rarely I share news of joy, because of my inherent fear of jinxing things. Sort of like, by voicing something aloud, I turn it pear-shaped.

But as I walk home from work these days (I still sleep late and drag myself up in the mornings), I feel good. I have a vague smile on my face. I wave hello to the little old lady standing outside her house at 5.15pm every evening.

I feel in some ways I've came a full circle. Its a good feeling.

Yesterday I got tired of my long hair and trimmed it myself on my bed with the bin sat next to my covers. Today I changed all my bedcovers. My duvet's bright and pink again. I get paid tomorrow. It's also UK elections day. My laptop screen busted 2 weeks ago, and the computer guy at the computer shop is taking his time. Tim loaned me his laptop. No stress.

It's 12.45am, I should shower and sleep soon. Maybe after reading some news on the Beeb. Maybe after watching Jamie 'Oh my Lord!' Oliver prance his way through Stockholm.

Bahasa saya....

2010-05-04T15:38:00.000+01:00

...sangat, sangat karat.

Apakah punca masalahnya? Sistem pelajaran yang tidak berkesan? Masa di bangku sekolah, selama 11 tahun, saya fasih Bahasa, siap dengan loghat Melayu. Tapi, tinggalkan sekolah sahaja, hancur terus, penguasaan bahasa langsung menjadi lemah.

Sekarang, nak fikirkan perkataan pun susah, lidah kelu, kena cari di Wikipedia atau kamus Inggeris-Melayu!

Dan dahlah sekarang daku di seberang laut, tiada peluang berbahasa. Maklumlah, jarang dapat bertemu orang Malaysia, tegur sapa pun cuma di kedai sesekali-sekala.

Aduh, sedih. Sedih.

Oh I have a blog!

2010-04-25T17:43:00.002+01:00

Before I start, it's Tim's birthday today. 26 and ticking.
Happy Birthday, darling!

Good thing I remember sometimes.

That, you know, I have a blog. To think it's accompanied me through, how many years now, 7 or 8? being my constant white slate to ponder on, vent out and analyse life as it unfolds for me...

Its purpose changed, of course...I learnt about the pros and cons of airing dirty linen in public, the consequences of uncensored thoughts to people around me and to have trolls and teenage-hormone-fueled cruel comments posted to me years and years ago.

Now I'm not even sure I have readers, and it doesn't matter in the slightest. Tim asked me the other day, why do people blog? If they don't intend it for an audience, why make it public at all? And why do we allow strangers to read our thoughts, the very same we hesitate to tell, or downright hide away from our loved ones.

I don't know. Personally, maybe in some ways it helped me censor my thoughts? That I have true, very un-PC or very biased/ignorant/unkind thoughts, but I learn to keep those quiet by posting only what I think is okay to say on here? It's no longer an arena for me to moan about my mom, or the tediousness of chores or the minute details of my day-to-day living, so what is it for me then?

It seems like all I do is to vent here. Why not in a diary then? Because...it's just easier to type and post, than to put (real) pen on (real) paper? Besides I don't have to lug a diary around with me. I just need access to a computer and the Internet. Or at worst, a pendrive. And as we all know, it's easier to find a cyber cafe these days than to find a stationary shop, yes?

Anyway, as I ramble on aimlessly, a beautiful rainbow appeared outside my window, underlining the beauty that appears alongside grey April showers, its semi-circle obvious and it felt like if I'd care to do so, I could walk to either of its end and find my pot of gold. And as I look up, now, it's already faded, reminding me how fleeting (or ephemeral or transient, whichever you prefer) beauty and really, life is.

And yes, the underlining point is, I no longer come here and confide regularly, willingly. So why do I keep it up? Is it for sentimental reasons? Or the once-in-a-blue-moon urge to blog, like right now? I don't know. Maybe its just for posterity reasons, voicing my soliloquy, aloud. Maybe I just want a form of memory so that I can look back 10, 20, 30 years down the road. Books can rot and disappear, but I don't see that happening to the Internet. Or maybe it's a false sense of security. Who knows?

But I think I should post things up more often. Even if its only a new haircut, or someone's birthday, or just a good/bad day.

And yes, some good news finally: Third time lucky, you'd call it, I interviewed for Towntalk UK for a 12-week internship, and guess who received the formal offer?

Real work for me at last. Time to do what I can do, and find a way into a permanent career path. I hope I won't cock it up to say the least, and that I'll do more than well.

I start tomorrow.

Oooh, am already nervous!

Do Not Know...

2010-04-05T21:51:00.002+01:00

why...

But.

Anger, hopelessness and melancholy has been my companion all last night and today.

The fight I fight seems too immense. Like a losing battle.

A voice niggling inside telling me to quit while I'm ahead.

Cut my losses and move on.

I've left my home, my country, my friends, my family.

Can't go back.

Can't go ahead.

No faith no love no trust.

A bit of mumble jumble

2010-03-11T21:34:00.000Z

Quite a jumbled mind I have in recent days...

Where do I start?

The main things are: I've started a job, I'm depressed, and I'm trapped in circles made in my own head.

Right now I'm listening to One Republic's Come Home...I know it's a sad song, but for some reason it's also one of the most memorable songs and one of my favourites. Not just lyrics-wise, but also how haunting it all sounds, I don't care what you say, that it's pop and mainstream or whatever, I'm a conformist! Therefore I listen to mainstream music, kapish?

But, yeah, it's like, a couple years ago (or maybe it's more than that, I'm getting older afterall), I felt like I need to run away to find myself. But then I learnt maybe I will have to run away, learn and then realise what I want is at home anyway. But I'm not ready to go home.

And there's nothing I desire more than happiness, but what if it's at the expense of others? Would that still make me happy in the long run and in the bigger picture? I don't know. All I know is, my life's in a limbo at the minute, I have half a job that I'm really unhappy about, no clear plans for the next month, much less 3, 6, 12 or 18 months ahead, and should I even plan when life's so fragile and so surprising, and throws you many twists? I don't know either.

I guess I'm now living life "on the run" if it makes sense. I just don't want to be on a freefall and splat on the ground because then that wouldn't be pretty. Acceptance is hard, especially of reality and the practicality of things. I always considered myself practical and down-to-earth. But I'm also very set in my ways, willful and stubborn. I want things in a certain way, and usually, my way and my way only. To accept that this job is all I can hope for at the moment, that I need to dredge to my workplace every morning, that I have to stop throwing tantrums the moment my alarm rings and to stop looking so miserable at work...all that is difficult. I just can't swallow it. Or accept it.

People come in all shapes and forms, and I need to remember the learning opportunity that I can take away from this, even if the financial gain is but a pittance. And remember the goodness, the kindness and the generosity of strangers.

I need to learn this lesson now if I want to move on with life: That the world is not just my oyster, it's also millions of other people's oysters. That when I take, I should be taking away from another person. I don't know where I'm going with this...because now the thought struck me. Couple of posts ago, I asked for luck with something important; it was for a job interview. I didn't get it, of course...the other person showed a bit more "knowledge" than I did during the interview. Otherwise I was perfect in every way. I took that hard, perhaps too hard. I was picked over, and I took it personally. But then, who can I blame?

It wasn't for my lack of passion, it was for my lack of knowledge.

I feel slightly, ok, very cheated.

I can't believe right now how much passion, how much drive, how much want I'm showing in wanting to prove my abilities and potential and break into the communications industry. I've said this before, and now with even more conviction, after I've landed my current dismal job in a call centre, cold calling businesses to ask for their details. It's probably the easiest job with the chillest team in the entire centre, but I seeth under the control and manipulation of the supervising team leaders. I refuse to be played like I'm daft, I refuse to submit to their wishes and phrasing my words and mentality in the way they wanted me to. I refuse to be baited to enter their insipid contests to be top caller so that I earn an extra £5 or be given chocolates for rewards. I feel more strongly than ever that I'm more than that, that....I have ambition. I have dreams.

I refuse to spend my time in a dead end job in a call centre.

But more and more, I'm afraid my dreams will only remain as such, that my writing has suffered and is suffering, and I've lost my mojo, and the ability to express. I just want to be given a chance, I feel like I'm fighting a hopeless fight. My actions sometimes indicate I've given up, but no, I haven't and I won't. I can't. I just want to eke out a life for myself, to find meaning to my life, here.

And once I give up, I give up the expectations, hopes and dreams of not only myself, but of those I love and cherish. But the self-doubts question whether I deserve chances at all. Have I worked hard enough to go where I want to be.

Secretly, maybe the answer is no.

Ugly Chinks

2010-02-26T02:34:00.000Z

Case 1:
Few weeks ago, I walked back from town and was crossing a big busy street. I saw a teenaged couple with a baby stroller. We passed by each other and he called out "Ching! Chong!" and she giggled.

Case 2:
Right round the corner from Chinese New Year, Tim and I were walking by the playground at the top of Edmund Road, when we saw two kids, a girl and boy, about 8 and 6, squatting down near where we'd walk past them. She called out "Chinkhead!" It was so unbelievable it took me and Tim literally moments to register. We turned around and they were stood there looking pleased with themselves. We walked off. They followed, yelling "Chinkhead!" over and over.

I was shaking with anger. What can you say or do to kids? Who are their parents and what have they whispered into these kids' ears? It was incredulous. I think I've witnessed a complete cycle.

...the dog eat dog world

2010-02-24T13:02:00.000Z

Sometimes they say waiting is the most painful thing in the world.

Sometimes they say rejection is.

Or maybe forgetting the rejection.

All I know is, I think Coelho didn't know what he was talking about when he said, When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it.

I guess you don't deserve unearned desires.

But when I really wanted something, needed it, paid my dues to try to achieve it and felt it fell right through my fingers...

And I don't know where to go from here.

Now, that's pain.

Just another jot

2010-02-09T23:44:00.007Z

Sometimes it feels like I have a lot to say, but don't know where to start.

Other times it's lidah kelu...like my brain's filled with vapid nothingless and I struggle to form intelligible thoughts.

Opening my folder full of songs I downloaded since 1998(?) and playing them in the middle of the night have that effect on me - melancholy, loneliness and hopelessness.

But all's okay, I will not wake up tomorrow morning sad. Still...that effect...

How has January came and gone? Perhaps it rated high above as one of the most challenging months for me yet - emotionally and mentally. With the 50-60 job applications I sent and nothing positive back, I have every reason to self-doubt, self-question and let resolution and confidence slip right through the door. In short, I've never felt so, well, rejected, in my life. Still, its just another life lesson: learn to take it astride and get on with it, no?

I woke up this morning with so much doubt and worry on my mind, it took me awhile to plaster on a smile and chase them ugly thoughts away. Everything felt like it's been put on hold, that my state of happiness is fleeting and temporary and hinges on something more tangible. And that tangibility is placed on one thing: Getting a (decent) job so that I can get on with the order of earning some money. But it's also a certain motivation within me to give back what I've learnt and apply it in real-life circumstances and to have it enrich my life, and learn more somehow, this time in practice. I am ready for the next chapter but it feels like there's a stretch yet before I can turn the page.

But, what is it? The economy? The fact that I'm foreign? My lack of experience in the job market here? My (lack of) education? Something I'm not doing right with my CV or covering letters? I don't know, and I wish I do know so that I can start improving, y'know? I'm seized by so many panicky moments that one day soon I'd have to pack and leave, then I'd segue to a strong determination to stay, and then hopelessness from not being able to get a job. I think I've cornered myself and perhaps it's not the right mindframe. There's always agencies though it'll be last-ditch option. There's many options I've not even begun to explore. I just need to remind myself to keep an open mind and eye, to be careful of my spending and to keep, keep positive. I know I am good (or at least not bad) and I just need to open that door, that opportunity to prove I can. It's frustrating but I'll get my day in the sun. Somehow. By hook or by crook.

It's not like I don't have anything to do meanwhile...job applications can take hours at a time. I've just procured the entire Harry Potter book set for under £12 (had a headstart by being given 2 for free) and finishing the 2nd book now, and picked up a Marketing Communications book from Sheffield Hallam library and going through it as well. And there's the foodblog I've started but filled with nary a thing. I'm also reading foodblogs by the bowlful and picking up recipes from Appetite for China and Rasa Malaysia and a bunch of others. There's walks to Heeley City Farm and to town to pick up this and that with Tim. And when all else fail, there's iplayer and 4oD. It's just frustrating that money (or the lack of) severely limits what I can do. But bright side: I'm thoroughly enjoying my Potter books, and surprisingly enjoying the Marketing Comm book too - I didn't realise how much I learnt in my undergrad years were related to Marketing Comm as a whole (though doh, it was a Communications degree) and what we were taught in Advertising also relates to Marketing. I'm happiest when I'm mentally stimulated, the geek that I am. So I feel a lot more fulfilled that I have been for days...Tim is now actively 'correcting' my enunciation (and sometimes pronunciation!) so my English English (as opposed to Malaysian English) is improving, and oh not to mention I have some cleaning up to do before Chinese New Year and there's the pleasant thoughts of what to make for New Year's Eve (braised pork belly and turmeric stir-fried cabbage?), and the thought of hanging my face over a bowl of steaming, creamy and spicy curry laksa from a small-alley Malaysian coffeeshop couple weeks from now in London is making me feel distinctively buoyant.

Perhaps there's a thing or two I could also mention, but I'm ever so slightly superstitious and I don't wanna jinx myself. So cross fingers and wish me good luck please? And I'll tell when there's good news. Promise.

Post on FB wall to someone in the same shoes.

2010-02-02T01:05:00.002Z

I don't even use a Western type name. It's Puiyee Khong all the way. And it's probably why I have never been called for an interview.
I suspected that long ago, when I tried applying for part time bar/retail work. They never ring.

Well, its not an equal country for sure, I've had people accusing me of wanting to stay here for a myriad of reasons, as if I came from a backward, poor country and needed to claw my way here to survive somehow when in reality I could easily go home or to Singapore and get decent positions, and I would never describe my background as poor or backward. Also, had unsavoury council types accusing us of overstaying and stealing jobs, but hey, I'm not the one on dole and sat on my arse all day yelling about footie on the telly. I just happened to like it here, fell in love with a local boy and decided I could stay for a while and see how things go. Then people seemed to think I nabbed him because I wanted British residency. Can't win at all can I?

Not to say the least of the people who go "nihaooooo" or "ding dong dang" at me ....I feel that racism is so rift here, more so than I've ever encountered from individuals at home (problem in Malaysia is more structural and at political levels, which is also why I rather stay here than go home), and I'm so fed up I can retort "I'm not from China, douchebag" within a split second of someone trying to be funny to me. I feel strangely more Malaysian than ever and refuse to identify too closely to the Chinese students here, but a lonely one because I'm not in the Malaysian circles in Sheffield. It's quite a lonely existence already without battling the voice telling me that this is quite a discriminating country despite what they try to portray. So, grass is not greener on the other side, tough life eh.

New food blog!

2010-01-27T02:26:00.002Z

No I have not moved.

No I have not quit this blog.

But yes I have a new BLOG!!!

Click to view at I buy, I cook, I eat.

Bit bare at the moment, but it's work in progress, more in coming days!

I'm an adult

2010-01-10T20:02:00.003Z

You know when I'm silent on my blog, it meant major major emotional rollercoasters are happening to me and I hardly jot them down (yes, even that 8-month lapse!) because it's just too raw, hurtful and sudden to put into perspective. I've gone from an angst-ridden, must-express-everything teenager to someone older, perhaps slightly ever wiser thoughts-wise, if not action-wise.

The last two months had been so difficult, so so difficult. Suddenly the "I'm right, you're wrong" black-and-white dichotomy is not so clear anymore, everything's fuzzy around the edges. The hurt put onto me one after another left me wailing and in tears, in physical pain more than once, but I gotta rise from that and go on with life. Sometimes I wish I can push a rewind button. So many times I woke up and remembered dreams of reconciliation. Then I remembered why my heart hardened. Then I was reminded painfully I was pushed away, deleted out of existence. So there I stay.

Then life presented me with another challenge...and this time its even closer to heart. I felt manipulated, at my wit's end, angry. I'm not a kid anymore, I'm financially helpless at the moment, but I'm trying pretty hard to find jobs and be independent in all senses. I found myself quiet and deep in thought walking through the snow and holding hands with my boyfriend, in a pantomime, while watching movies, and in general situations. My head's too filled up with too many what-ifs, and too much fear. I've been worried and worried and worried for a while now.

Right now I can't see the big picture. I truly felt like I belonged to no where, to no one. Maybe it's just me being stuck in my own paranoia, but it's like I can no longer go home because I'm unwanted. I want to stay here, but for how long? After 2 years, and then what? I still have to pack and leave. A hand reached out from inside my brain to smack me (this is metaphorically, of course) and told me to think optimistically: Even if I only stayed here for 2 years for work (plus the year of masters), it's still a very enriching 3 years of my young life. And come on, surely I can see how much better that is to nothing at all?

But I am desperate for a paying job, not just because I want financial security, but I am experiencing an alarming need for..homing. I want to own a place of my own! *Alarm alarm alarm* But, but...mortgages! I want a dog! But, but...15-years' responsibility! I want to buy gadgets for my kitchen, and all those nice things to put on my bedroom walls/bathroom appliances/cabinets...oh my God, I want furniture! I told some friends, the day I purchase a piece of furniture gotta be the day I commit myself to something. And funnily I'm not too afraid of that right now. My fear is not to be able to do that.

I guess I really am getting older, and I just really want a nice place to call my own. But how do I get from Point A to Point B? I've been told to practice self-fulfilling prophecy thoughts: If I'm convinced I will get a job, I will and vice versa. And I need something to fill in my time, and Tim suggested I start a food blog or something like that...perhaps I will consider that. Yes. I need a direction in life, but I cannot expect it to appear from nowhere, it's gotta come from me.

So, hey myself, stop being a sap and think about practical things. And be happy. *smack smack smack*

Happy New Year everyone, another year another story.

Ah how time flies.

Too late

2009-11-27T15:50:00.004Z

At what point do you stop talking about anything?

When you don't have much to say, or when your thoughts become so personal, you rather keep it private lest it be read by other people and the outcome is many hurt parties. I learnt from journalism class that there's many sides and many angles to a story, and because this blog is my own, I've ignored journalistic conventions and go with my own side, and my own angle.

But there's the constant worry that one day someone will read what I wrote and get hurt.

Also, I could blame Facebook, its more than sufficient to post status messages, and photos on there, and blogging becomes an effort because you're doing things twice. A person have to draft a blog on her mind, arrange sentences and so on, whatever it takes to write a piece that's publish-worthy. Anyway.

This time, I'd say my silence is from the fear of hurting people, of announcing to the world my every move and action, and the self-absorption that so plagues us Internet-folks who embraced the "me, myself and I-itis" of the Internet.

The last week since I've been back, I've been very conscious of ranting to Tim, sometimes half-angry, half-sad, more than often slightly teary too, about the friendship I mentioned on my last blog. Seemed like the situation is the same, one can say we've reached a stalemate, as worst things happened and no discussing ensued.

Tis so easy to just say "I care, I care", but its the actions that mattered in the end. Things had changed, through her choices and my actions, and this time it felt like it's too late.

It's too late, too much damage done to patch things up. There's a big thorn in my heart. I've always knew when a fight's just a fight and things will be okay in due time, but this time it felt final. Like as if it's a break-up and this really is it. I cannot imagine things going back to how it was, and that it's already too late.

I don't think I care anymore. My love and respect fizzled out. It's really sad, it's really final and brutal, but it's just too late.

Tis a crazy life

2009-10-30T20:15:00.008Z

My mom had a stroke last Monday. My security blanket, the conviction that things are okay, and will stay okay, was pulled out under me. To say I fell hard on my bum and dazed...is an understatement.

Staying with her over three days, tending to her and basically be her buddy led me to think a lot of things. Of how it's not time yet. She's barely into her fifties. I'm only a third of my way through my twenties. I still want and need my mommy. I still want to be babied, to be a child, to be my mommy's girl. Thinking of her less than healthy made me run into the corridor to collect myself. I do not want to cry in front of her. Watching her cry broke my heart. I'd do anything to change reality. To make her alright. To make us alright.

Maybe I've not accepted the reality yet. She's not too bad, just weakness on one side, and needs a bit of help up and down the stairs. You have no idea how painful it feels to watch your mother eat, and listen to her say that swallowing is an effort. For a woman who loves her food...and for a woman who loves to gab, talking is an effort, too. I looked at my own left arm and leg, and wondered how it would be like to be tired of lifting them up after a few seconds. I felt a need to protect her so strong, and yet so helpless in face of fact. Suddenly I found myself being the one doctors talk to, nurses refer to, and mom and bro depend on for a daily routine. The responsibility felt so massive, and so sudden.

I hope my mom recovers soon, and back to her fierce, prideful self, in tip top condition and all.

In face of all this, with all these newfound responsibilities, anxieties and stress, I learnt there's only myself to depend on. Never did I think of relying on anyone else, but I let my guard down just this once, because I'm so tired, and I am so disappointed and betrayed. In playing good daughter, I also have to play good best friend. I have to understand so many people, so many angles. Empty promises made. Words tumble easily from mouths, but. But. What's the value of friendship? Nothing. Easily bartered away in knowing we'll always be understanding. That there will be time to make up. That I'm supposed to understand.

I understand. I'm not the one who's going to make my best friend happy forever.
I'm not the main star in a best friend's life.
In the scheme of things, what am I?
I dread to weigh the truth.

All I know is, tis just another empty promise, and I'm betrayed and disappointed. I expected too much, that is my mistake.

I would have understood even better had things been handled differently. Had no promises were made.

But such is life.

Move on, Puiyee. Sudah lah, lumrah hidup.

A prose for you

2009-10-09T07:09:00.002+01:00

I don't know if I believe in the extravagant show of love. In the four months we've been going out, there were small exchanges of gifts, eating out, buying things...sharing and pooling money and belongings. I've never done any huge-effort-out-of-my-way thing for him (wrote him a poem, a song, - though maybe a prose counted? - went way beyond myself to make/get him something, etc), though I couldn't say the same about him. I know he's been so generous and so thoughtful to me.

I've yet to receive my first flower, though. *hint*
He couldn't afford to come to Malaysia with me, but he came to London with me, and we spent a few wonderful days together.

So, I believe that its not the 'showing' that matters, but the real thoughtfulness, the 'heart' and the effort the other person puts in without being asked to. And if a person meant it, you'll know. I've had no reasons for doubt and insecurity - I trust him. And he's never let me down. There's always regular contact. I usually know where he is, what he's doing, and how he's doing. And for that, I am gratefully reassured.

I know in that sense, I am blissfully happy. It's only been over a week that we're apart, and I have him on my mind a lot. Sometimes I end up grinning like a mental person in the middle of a public space. I compensated by shopping and buying things for him. I wondered if he'll eat durian. I thought of him when I'm eating some yummy food and wished he could try it too. I wanted to hold his hand and show him off - that's him, that my man. Sometimes those three words are right on my lips. I guess we're both playing the waiting game.

When we first went out, my heart was full of doubts. Someone told me that by the end of this year, if I didn't feel like I have fallen for him, I should walk away. I think I'm here to stay.

And I hope he knows this.

I am...

2009-10-04T14:02:00.003+01:00

...feeling slightly neglected.

Life here felt exactly like I've wrapped it up and put it away, only to come back and unpack it...to find that people have moved on and are too busy for me.

I feel like I wanna fly back now.

:(

Homeward bound

2009-10-01T20:42:00.000+01:00

Its 8pm now, and I've been on the go since 7am this morning. I'm airborne somewhere in the Middle East, dinner is about to be 'served', and another 7 hours before I land.

I fervently hope the boy is now safe and sound back in Sheffield (at least Meadowhall Interchange, as his bus is due to arrive at 8pm). We've spent three nights in London, and it was an amazing time - eating Malaysian food in Chinatown, going to the British Museum and dropping our jaws at mummies, watching the sun set on Tower Bridge, watching Phantom of the Opera on the absolute worst seats in the entire theatre. It was good.

And I can not be grateful enough, or affectionate enough towards the Boy at the moment. I wonder how and why, through all my ill-spirits and unkindness, that I deserve such a good-natured, humourous, thoughtful and lovely person. And I feel awfully bad that he's probably waited at the Victoria Coach Station for hours, bored, tired, sleepy and grumpy, for his bus that's not even due until I've
landed in Bahrain.

He is awesome. And 4 weeks til I see him again.

Now: Bahrain.

I've found the wettest toilets ever. Bahrain Airport female loo was invaded by women of I don't know where (I'd hazard a guess of somewhere in South Asia) with cloth covering their heads loosely, and them washing their faces and feet in the same toilet sink. It wasn't just wet, it was flooded. I forgot how disgusting wet toilets are. And I've forgotten how humid and warm night airs can be.

This is just a teaser of what is about to greet me when I step off the plane in KL. Hmm.

I've also met two Chinese Malaysians at the boarding gate: both works in Ridyadh as nurses. One immediately told me she's earning RM15 000 per month. Telling me maybe all those repression in the Middle East is a good thing, that the UK and the US is too free. The other seemed more wise, telling me it's not the money that mattered, even though many nurses came and went in Saudi Arabia because they could not tolerate the culture or society, they'd learn something and bring it away with them. Even a year out there would be good for anyone. I couldn't agree more though I've spent a year in one of the freer societies in the world and I doubt I can go to somewhere like the Middle East and ...fit in. I already feel slightly ill at ease, needing to put up pretenses and self-censor, something we all learn to do well; whispered, hushed conversations instead of open, frank discussions. If only the first nurse found out my boyfriend is an English lad and I've embraced the 'irresponsible' life...

Oh. I don't know, this homecoming is such a confusion for me. I wonder what the next four weeks will entail. We shall see.

Meanwhile, I've loved and hated London. The crowds. The impatience. The pushiness. The hecticness. The rush. The beauty despite its perpetual sounds and smells.

Thank you, Tim.

All done...

2009-09-23T21:51:00.002+01:00

...with dissertation.

Finally. The final piece of work I'll hand in for academic purposes. I think I'm done being a student...for a while anyway. Unless....I don't have to write dissertations. Come to think of it, maybe I'd like going back to Primary 1 and start all over again. At least I know what I'm doing second time around. I'd do food science. Or cook.

But I'm just blabbering. This will not be a very coherent or even eloquent post; I'm just too frankly tired.

I promised myself to finish dissertation last Friday evening but I ended up going to the library at midnight on Saturday and printed my dissertation at 3.30am. After an hour or two of iplayer after that, I was dead to the world....except at 7am we woke up for a carboot sale. I got a nice denim jacket out of it for two quid. And a grater for 20p. And Tim's got a mini fridge for £2.50. And we had nice steak sandwiches. And we went to bed again til 2pm. And then I got up to...pack. We left for Tim's parents' house at 7.10pm...and made and ate lasagne at 12am.
I got him up at 10am to head into town to get my dissertation bound, had some sandwiches, window-shopped, then I collected my dissertation, ran to the department to submit it, and went home to...pack. Finished packing finally and then I collapsed into bed again and waking up at 9am on Tuesday because the van guy's coming at 11am. Took only half an hour to take all my worldly possessions in UK across town, and I'm now living out of boxes for the week before I head down to London and then home, and after a bit of unpacking, went to the department to chat with international students and then headed to Meadowhall for Yo! Sushi (we have a 40% discount voucher!!!) and I went all out. We walked around just a little bit...but I was tired, and my feet were so sore, and my brain was so numb.

By the time Tim and I made it back to my new place and after watching Mathilda with my new housemates, I was so exhausted I fell asleep mid-kissing.

And Wednesday we walked back into town to the train station so that I can get a new railway card and collect my deposit for the Boomerang and get new keys cut. And when I go to donate blood, the nurse asked if I've been stressed lately....boy. Does she know.

That's it. And now I'm idle and got nothing to do in a strange new house and a new status. I've got a splitting headache. I will call my boyfriend, then head for a shower, then watch iplayer til I fall asleep.

My Chinese name

2009-09-12T00:45:00.001+01:00

To be quite honest, I've never really checked what my given names meant, and only idly wondered a few times when I have been asked.

So...

许 xǔ
English Definition:
1.to allow
2.to promise
3.to praise
4.perhaps

佩 pèi
English Definition:
1.to wear
2.admiration
3.jade pendants

怡 yí
English Definition:
1.happy; cheerful; joyful
2.harmony

Source: http://www.ourchinese.org/

What does it translate to then?

"To promise admirable joy" ??
"A promise of joy" ?
(Since I'm *wearing* it and all that)

*tah hah hah hah hah*

Okay well, not quite.

I like the whole "wearing" and "owning" being joyous. And peaceful.
Its a good name, I now know.
Me mommy and daddy wants me to be happy.
Awwwww.

Of time and timing

2009-09-04T18:45:00.003+01:00

I've just recently watched A Series of Unfortunate Events, and not really being aware that the antagonist is played by Jim Carrey, I almost smacked the laptop, broke the DVD and poke a few needles into his imaginary voodoo doll. I don't like Jim Carrey, in case you did not get the gist already.

My arms are so sore. My legs are sore. My brain is numb. I just want to sleep and read some vapid chick lit, sip tea and sleep some more. I just moved this morning. Did the bulk of moving my belongings last evening, and then four hours unpacking, before I realise the contract ends 19th and I'm only staying there for three weeks, if I extend for a week. If that. My laptop broke down. Well, the inverter did. To put it in a nutshell, everything works as per normal, except the screen is dim. I can see faintly that there's things on the screen, just that the light isn't there. It will cost me £70 to fix it. And I don't even know how long it will take. I miss my laptop already. On top of that Tim's laptop was hard hit by an amusing virus (at least I secretly think so). It gave him a blue wallpaper with a few paragraphs on it with misspellings and bad grammar saying things like "Your're computer is infected. For your family, your children, your friends, please get antivirus". What's not amusing is that he'll have to reformat. At least he's got his data backed up with some pendrives last night. Speak of a series of unfortunate events now. Two computer nerds computer-less for a few days. How are we supposed to function?!

I've also just gotten an extension for my dissertation. I can technically hand it in on 28th September now. Which I hesitate to do. Ideally I still want to finish by 14th, or maybe around that time, because I want to relax and do my thing. This shackles called Dissertation is sucking the joy out of my soul.

Last night, after unpacking, Tim and I walked home from Boomerang to Central Quay for one last time. We had one last walk by the river. The three white (edible) ducks that never failed to sleep at the same spot weren't there. Perhaps it was too cold. Too windy. Too wet. But I felt the pain of lost so acutely. I've stayed there for almost an entire year, and what a year it has been. I've enjoyed my own ensuite, and cabinet-hogging in the kitchen, and a lot of privacy. I've even enjoyed staying in 2 flats that wasn't filled to capacity.

Boomerang is almost entirely opposite. There's 6 of us in a small flat. The walls are thin and noises carry. I can hear people peeing and flushing the toilet that's next to my room. I'm staying with 5 people I know. There's not much space in the kitchen for me to hog. And I sleep on a single bed. I guess it's really not bad at all because I'm now 5 minutes away from the library, but its just a lot of change to cope with at the moment.

Moving was also stressful - I came to this country with three bags, and over a year I've accumulated so much things that I'm ashamed of myself. In my defense, a lot of them are castaways that I scavanged. That's the joy of living in student accomodation - in a corner reserved for unwanted items, I've picked up duvet sheets, blankets and throws, boxes, bags of clothes and stuff, crockery, utensils and things of all sorts. I've also been to car boot sales and picked up pasta jars, photo frames, clothes...

I wonder when and if I do go home for good, what am I going to do with them things.

So anyway, the year I had in Central Quay - it was good, but nature states that nothing stays static forever. I cannot stop the sands of time slipping through my fingers, the only thing I could do and will do is to cherish and treasure the memories. And the memories of walking in flip-flops in winter to Castlemarket, catching the 52 bus, the walks along the river, the sounds and atmosphere of the pub downstairs...I'm grateful for the experience.

Moo for Malaysia.

2009-08-28T17:53:00.005+01:00

First off, I really kesian this cow.
Disclaimer: Apologies for the squirmish ones, don't scroll down!

Opps, sorry, too late

I hope that cow was slaughtered for food, and not for the sole purpose of being marched up somewhere, displayed and insulted, spat and stomp on. And surely not in the holy month of Ramadan.

Here's the story:

By Shazwan Mustafa Kamal, Malaysian Insider

SHAH ALAM, Aug 28 — A group of Malay-Muslim protesters claiming to be residents of Section 23 have threatened bloodshed unless the state government stopped the construction of a Hindu Temple.

Amid chants of "Allahuakbar," the group also left the severed head of a cow at the entrance of the State Secretariat here as a warning to Selangor Mentri Besar Tan Sri Khalid Ibrahim.

The "residents" said that the construction of a Hindu temple in a 90 per cent Malay- Muslim neighbourhood was insensitive because activities there would disrupt their lives.

They claimed that the "noise" from the temple would disturb their own praying, and that they would not be able to function properly as Muslims.

The group of 50 over protestors marched shortly after Friday prayers from the Shah Alam State mosque to the State Secretariat.

“I challenge YB Khalid, YB Rodziah and Xavier Jeyakumar to go on with the temple construction. I guarantee bloodshed and racial tension will happen if this goes on, and the state will be held responsible,” shouted Ibrahim Haji Sabri amid strong chants of “Allahu Akbar!”

Ibrahim identified himself as the Deputy Chairman of the Resident’s Committee against the building of the temple in S23 here, which is perceived by some as being a Muslim majority area.

He told the press that the state should move the temple to Section 22 as ‘originally planned’, and also labelled Khalid a “traitor to the Malay race and Islam”.

It is understood that the protest is an immediate reaction towards the Selangor MB’s visit to the Hindu temple site yesterday, an act seen by the "residents" as disrespectful to the Muslims of the community.
Mohd. Zurit Bin Ramli, who claims to be the secretary of the "Coalition of Malaysian NGOs" echoed Ibrahim’s stand on the matter, saying that it was irresponsible on the part of the state government to approve the construction as there was apparently a “90 per cent” majority Muslim population in Section 23.

“With a temple on our residential area, we cannot function properly as Muslims. The temple will disrupt our daily activities like prayers in the Surau. We cannot concentrate with the sounds coming from the temple,” stated Zurit.

When asked whether members of the protest were affiliated with any organisations or movements, Ibrahim claimed that the people present today were members of PAS, PKR as well as Umno who are “united in the name of Islam and the Malay spirit.”

The state government was also accused of lying to the people of Selangor.

The Chairman of the Residents Committee, Mahyuddin Manaf excitedly proclaimed that the committee would uncover “the lies” and find proof of the state’s misconduct.

“Khalid Ibrahim wears a mask of a Muslim, but in truth he is a liberal. PAS stands to lose out as a result. I voted for PAS as well as Khalid in the past elections,” Mahyuddin claimed.

The issue first cropped up when the Selangor government proposed that the Sri Mariamman temple be relocated from Section 19 to Section 23.

And my two cents:
Really really makes me don't want to be Malaysian anymore. Nak pergi main jauh-jauh already. Why fight it lah when they tell us everyday we're not "real" Malaysians? Its been one year plus (since last election) of rejection and dejection lor.

Apa 1Malaysia. Look at what people do to tell you forcefully there is no 1Malaysia. How to go on living as citizen, born and raised in a country you have to bow and kowtow to people and prove all the time you are loyal, super-tolerant and have blind faith that one day it will be ok? How many still want to fight the tide, when the rest thinking "suan le, let's just earn money and live nondescriptly". more

Wanna go to Singapore and be like Xiaxue already. At least I already got the ang moh bf part...now I need to mental myself to stop thinking I'm Malaysian. And enough money for blow...sorry, nosejob, and a lot a lot of clothes and make up, Photoshop skill and a semi-celebrity status.

But aior...tak boleh weh. :( Saya suka nasi lemak too much.

:(

Ok. Official: I confess I've been reading Xiaxue's blog the entire evening, and this afternoon. And in some ways, I'm slightly envious.

She's blonde, she Photoshops herself, she had a nosejob and she owns a Princess Room painted in pink. She's probably got 10x what I have in my wardrobe (and spends about as much), she blings her phone, camera and laptop in pink diamantes. My point is, frivolousness aside, I want a bit of her life.

Her blogs are light-hearted and funny, and Joanna writes in the same way: controversial, snarky, bitchy...in other words, I like. I cannot hide it anymore. Beneath all these seriousness, there's a deeply embedded blonde in me. Its screaming a bit lately to be let out.

Along with that, I don't know what kind of instinct is this that's kicking in (not the maternal one, thank God), but I want my own flat/house, cute dog(s), and an awesome kitchen with the works. I want to cook and decorate, and fill up my home with the necessities: TV, furniture, candles, hangings...you get the picture. Homing instincts?

Problem is, I see me doing it here in England. Or in Singapore. I'm used to having an oven. I like having easy access to cheap pasta and pasatta. I've gotten less and less stubborn about being Malaysian, and being out here made it easier to go incognito, and less loyal.

Have I sold out?!

o_O"

Oh dear.

Tulan leh

But one thing lah:
I declare from now onwards I'll write a bit more Malaysian-style (what to do, who ask me to be born a Malaysian? Blame the stork for dropping me off in KL), and I'll try to be more light-hearted. This way, I have more entertaining things to write about, right?

And when my dissertation finishes (ha, I say it like as though it will write itself), I will blog more and give more time here.

And to kick-off my new resolution, I am going to (er...what's that word again...er) gush (GUSH!) over my ABC soup.

Few nights ago, I bought a £5.42 whole chicken (minus head) and chopped it roughly the way mummy taught me, and made a chicken curry out of it.

While I was assaulting and deskinning that poor chicken, the boy surfed onto his Facebook and wrote this:
Tim Jones is watching his girlfriend full on knife assault a chicken then tear it apart with her bare hands. She's a very special lady :)

Cute la that boy. So I was left with the carcass and neck, and a bit more bones from chicken thighs in the freezer. So last night, at roughly 4.50am when dawn was breaking, I envisaged beautiful ABC soup.

But wait. Got potato, got carrot. No onion leh! How?
Its ok. Nick one of Mr Fish's.

FYI Mr Fish lives in Room D, and is a pretty good looking ang moh. After a bit of stalking on FB, found him on Leeds network. Draw your own conclusions lah. But he has the weirdest diet ever. Every morning he dices onion, carrots and celery, saute them in extra virgin olive oil, salt and pepper, and boils brown rice/whole wheat pasta/mullet grain, and mix all of that with two cans of Tesco sardine/mackerel in brine. Then he leaves fish and leftovers in the sink for everyone else to pick up, and expects the hobs to clean itself automatically. He also doesn't know the concept of "emptying the trash".

So with my ABC soup floatng in mind, I try to sleep. Try, try, try.
Cannot.
6am already. Very light outside.
Pop one Paracetemol.
5...10...minutes later...*drools and snores*
God-sent.

So with chicken bones, carrots, potato and stolen-onion, and some salt, pepper and 2 tablespoons of Shao Hsing wine, I have my ABC soup. Oh my. I forgot how hearty and good soups like this taste, just like the way my mom made it in the slow cooker (ok, the wine was my idea, and I have no slow cooker).

I am satisfied.

Until I saw that cow up there.

I shall abstain from cow for some time now.

Ok, back to dissertation!

Personal letter for me

2009-08-19T01:23:00.009+01:00

It seems too much of a coincidence to let go...in the span of a single day, I've read my bestie's blog and spoken to another of my bestie, and they both mentioned one thing: Privacy.

It's true isn't it?

To quote Amelia -

The purpose of a blog is to allow a space for expression. A space for random ideas, deep thoughts, retrospection and also sudden mind spasms.

And here I am, an adult, still writing in my blog, the same one I've started when I was 15. But circumstances has changed. Back then I poured every feelings I had into my blog. Every angsty thought, every joy, every pain, every celebration and every grief. These days I hardly found anything worthy of writing. My daily life settled into a humdrum routine that hardly required any thinking or retrospection. I wonder how did every event filled me with wonder, and how they were jot-worthy, and these days I let things pass by without second thoughts. Is it part of growing up, of being an adult?

I've never felt more adult before. Perhaps it's overdue, now that I'm 23. What I say and do matter more. I'm responsible and accountable for every word and every action. I can no longer use "being young" as my crutch, because I'm no longer so young anymore, am I?

My thoughts are no longer private and I cannot write as freely as I would like to. Every entry that served as a emotional release for me had to be written in some sort of cryptic way, so I can express myself without revealing too much. It seems to me that blogging, has somehow lost its purpose.

Ah, how I wish I can still write like that. Yes, I'm lifting off my best friend's blog. Her thoughts mirrored what I feel, except she's expressed it beautifully. I've learnt many a lesson about being too free with my writing, and I can remember the first incident where my college-mates printed the blog entry I wrote the previous day, and it ended up with many tears and feelings of betrayal. I learnt the price of being too free with my tongue in university, it was a heavy price to pay. I trusted the wrong people, my spirit was broken for a long while. To this day, it felt like I'm still running away from that period of my life, that miserable six months I existed instead of lived, and it was a bitter life lesson I will bring to my grave. So, I finally learn to self-censor, to keep thoughts about people out of my blog, and to stick to insipid, general things in life that will not offend anyone. Because I cannot pretend to be a nice person who thought kindly of everyone. No, I'm one of those people who are suspicious and negative about things, the kind of person who subscribe to "guilty until proven innocent" mindset, and although I'm much better now, I'm painfully aware that its the way I perceive people, and its something I've not been able to change. So, eventually, I've even stopped writing regularly. So that begs two questions:

1. Is it worth keeping a blog when I cannot even say freely what I feel about anything and everything?
2. Are our lives so dependent on those nearest and dearest to us?

I told my other friend, what's the use of writing now that I've lost my audience with my blog being on hiatus for over 8 months? She, whom I will not name, told me perhaps its for the better cause, because I have the privacy to write and not have persons concerned reading and judging me for it. She started a private blog for that exact same reason: she wanted to write from her heart and not get into trouble for it.

(I've even read through and edited this entry, so that it doesn't appear a certain way, to speak of the devil)

So why do we choose to express ourselves so publicly, and yet lament the lost of privacy? I bet nobody from a mere generation ago (think: your parents) would imagine that just about anyone could be famous through youtube, and through their writings and photos (think: Karen Cheng and Kenny Sia), that you could text or email your local politician, and critisize your prime minister on his blog. We are a generation hungry for attention, and we are a generation who record our lives publicly. No details are too sacred and personal these days. People record their relationships, pregnancy, dying and living for all and sundry.

So do I.

But self-censorship, I certainly practice. When I write, I'm conscious of the risk of having my friends, classmates, professors and my mom bumping into my blog.

And the last thing I want to do is to hurt them, their reputation, and in consequence, mine. Expressing myself may be important, but -and I cannot believe I'm saying this- the people I care about, people I love, are even more so. Certain things should be kept private and personal, and I see why, I see it now. Another part of me is still trying to reawaken the part of me that feels life so urgently. Been dormant for a while, and I want to be able to describe life in all its vividness without resorting to talking about people. I want to record life as I see it.

Like I said, I've never felt more adult in my life. I'm responsible for myself, and I'm far, far away from those I grew up with, and from mom and dad. I worry. I worry about where I'm living next, whether I can get any jobs, what sort of jobs I can try for, and where I'll be this time next year. I worry about money, about failing my parents and myself, and somehow, the feeling of inadequacy is ceaseless. Sometimes it felt like I'm only maintaining a facade, that there's still a child in me wanting to burst out and be careless and irresponsible. But those days were long gone. My peers had gone on to be engaged, get married, made babies. Holding jobs, paying their mortgages and having weekend getaways in nearby cities. I'm lucky to have been given a year's grace, but even that is ticking away.

I'm not angry anymore. I'm not sad anymore.

But I'm still lost.

Who am I? Who am I?

Can I still afford to be lost?

Quick hi

2009-08-18T00:14:00.006+01:00

Really I've got nothing to say at the moment, its quarter past midnight (ha-ha I've even started using the English time system - quarter past, quarter to, half past) on a Monday evening and I really SHOULD BE WORKING.

Instead, I got suckered into reading no other than Karen Cheng's blog..yes the woman of "Doing the Karen Cheng" fame. I guess what I really want is to get back into the groove of writing (semi)regularly, especially blogging.

Once in a while, I examine the reason for the lack of writing, and connected it to Facebook and the wonders of photo uploading. So instead of words, I (and thousands of others) went the lazy way and uploaded photos that suffice in making up for the words lost.

But that needs to complement the writing, not replacing it, as I realise how rusty I am with this, I've really lost the knack of writing, of looking for necessary vocabulary to express myself, especially because I'm not reading as often anymore, either. Perhaps being in THE English-speaking country abetted the loss of words ever-so-slightly...but meh. Who am I kidding?

So...here's the story. I'm currently still staying in Central Quay, the student flats I've stayed in since I arrived. Except in a different flat in a different block, and only til the end of this month. Early next month, I move.

To The Boomerang, the building that was an ex-pub.

View Larger Map

Not for long, I hope. I must confess a certain dislike to the area the building's in (Netherthorpe...which is *rough*), and how thin the walls are (noise travel TOO well in that place), and how we all have a single bed (been spoiled rotten with having a double bed), and also the fact that I'm sharing with even MORE people than I ever had. Six of us will be sharing a flat, and the only saving grace is that we're all friends, and there's three toilets and two showers in there. But I'll miss having my own self-contained bathroom where I can spend a lot of time and leave whatever I want in there while I mind my business. And then...I don't know what. I've been house-hunting pretty diligently the last couple of weeks (with a lot of help) and quickly realise that houses are easy to find, within the budget range...housemates are not. I've been offered a room with a double bed for pretty damn cheap rents near Bramall Lane (home to Sheffield United team), but has yet to see the place. Hopefully things will work out; people living there are nice. And I like nice people. And I strive to be nice.

So that's my housing situation.

I really hesitate to air the rest of my plans only because I haven't had any idea what I'll do with myself a few months down the road. Been hitting a worrying crisis lately, of not knowing what to do. I have enough money to live and find work for the next few months, but money will run out, and economy's grim and lately I've felt homesick enough to think maybe it's not bad at all that I return to Malaysia, and then search for work in Singapore. It's just easier. I'd move home. And live with mom. Except...can I still...? After living out for a year, do I want to move back? Being out here for almost a year now (in fact I've lived out for 11 months now!) made me realise I've been ready for such a long time to be on my own. Except I've been a lucky turd and got head start with money. But I know one day the tap will dry up and it'll be up to me to turn my own tap on. And of course, that's my main worry these days.

The other one is, I've got less than a month now to write my dissertation, and I'm nowhere at all, AT ALL, near done. I can say confidently I've got a couple chapters' draft, but that's it. Its a big sprawling mess, and I'm not feeling the panic yet, the rush and the need to get things going. It worries me, and cripples me. Like right now, it's past midnight, and I've stayed in all day, NOT working. I guess this is the time I send a silent prayer to the stars for strength and grace. And epiphany.

One more thing I want to mention is, I'm really trying hard to balance things. I've been seeing Tim a lot (every day of last week!) and while I enjoy every moment, I need to remind myself that it'll not be permanent, and I need to remember I'm my own person, and that I should not neglect my friends. Its easy to do so, using dissertation as my excuse, but I should know better. I've also been avoiding going up to Boomerang, only cos I can't be arsed to make the trek halfway up the hill. I also don't want to fall into the trap of being obsessed with my boyfriend - "Tim this, Tim that...Tim and I blah blah blah", especially with a couple of girls on my Facebook seeming so guilty of it that it makes me ~~fascinated~~ sick reading their blogs and following their walls. But it can be easy to do so, huh? But I will not let my life revolve around my boyfriend, I will grow my balls and worship gumption.

I will not resist this though:

Me in his jacket, hee.

Though, this I will say: I'm not sure what will happen in future. Of course I'm scared. It seems like no-future-no-hope kind of thing, hinges on where I'll be in a few months' time, and in the longer term, where he'll be when he finishes uni. I can feel it, feel myself feeling more for him with time. Its unsettling to say, yeah I've got a boyfriend. ~~I'm 23 and its the first time in my life I can, if I want to, point to a guy and yell "That's my boyfriend!".~~ Feels surreal. And still feels like its just a dream and I'll snap out of it soon. This insecurity I have about guys not sticking around, its really unnatural, is it not? A product of one unsuccessful long-distance short-lived semi-relationship, and a series of sad sordid tales. I know I've got mental strength, so its up to me to snap out of it. To know that decent guys with good hearts exist and I've met one. He's so endearing and cute and funny, and we're good together. I hope karma doesn't (see I'm stuck for the word I want right now.) bite back (that's it!) after the shit I've done though. Let bygones be bygones. Water under the bridge. I've straightened up good now!

We've also been doing a bit (ok, a lot!) of cooking lately, and I'll let the photos do the talking:

Bolognese sauce and pasta

Strawberries and whipped cream - we whipped it by hand ourselves! Utterly sinful.

Lasagne (he made this with *some* help from me!)

Stuffed peppers

You get the picture! Yum. I really do enjoy cooking when I have people to share my food with, though I must say its a costly and time-consuming hobby considering the way I live off 10-minute prep time meals for ages, and not bother with something as elaborate as a cottage pie or lasagne or my mom's boiled pork belly that takes like an hour to cook.

But...I gotta say, it's worth it. Yum.

Next, I wanna try baking muffins or banana loaf. Never meddled with any sort of bakery or pastry stuff before, time to try! Yes, I am semi-Kitchen Goddess! Step aside Nigella!

Anyway, I should really do some dissertation work. Really really should.

Things to do, and to bring back...and forth

2009-08-13T18:10:00.021+01:00

1. This is my to-do before I leave:
-Find accommodation for after 19th Sept DONE
-Change my HSBC account to something that doesn't bloody charge me £8 a month DONE
-Get new young persons' railway card (one month in advance)DONE
-Collect train tickets London-Sheffield from Sheffield Station DONE
-Change my address details to the new(as yet to be)found place for Vodafone, University, HSBC
-Sort out London trip before I leave DONE
-Where to kip for the night when I return DONE
-Get back deposit from Unite and Vodafone DONE
-Make appointment with UHS DONE
-Sell textbooks DONE

2. This is a (GROWING) list of things I'm shipping back to good old England in preparation for winter:

-Milo DONE
-Konnyaku jelly DONE
-Ipoh White Coffee (for the Boy)DONE
-Chinese Tea
-Curry Paste DONE
-Chinese mushrooms DONE
-Ikan bilis DONE
-Sago DONE
-Root beer DONE
-Dried mango DONE
-Sakema DONE
-Lantern DONE
-Mooncake
-Durian flavoured things (dodol?)
-Contact lens
-Contact lens solution DONE
-Nivea Lipbalm DONE
-Toothbrush (Oral B) DONE
-Laptop fan cooler
-External hard drive
-Dehumidifier

3. And THIS is a reminder of things to check before I go home:
-Undies from Marks & Spencer for Chenn DONE
-Pet advice for the dogs
-Jewellery cleaner for mom
-Shortbread DONE
-LUSH DONE

...

I'm back! And alive!

2009-07-31T16:21:00.017+01:00

Ayup! That's right! Its me and I'm back after missing for almost 10 months. I've been jotting notes on Facebook, being such an addict and on there constantly...

But I do remember that I have a blog, somewhere in the dusty shelf of the back of my mind. And I remember how its accompanied me, first from blog-city, and now blogspot or blogger, through my teen years, as a sounding board, memory board and ranting board.

You'll have noticed a few changes: An addition at the top of my blog. Two, actually! =D

Adsense...whatever to bring in some money.

And a little image to remind me (the non-sappy type) that I have, yes, finally, maybe, found myself a *drum roll* boyfriend! I'm as surprised and shocked as the next person. The perpetual single in me snort derisively and thought, "tis NOT possible!" But it seemed like he's going to stay for a while.

*Clap clap clap*

Can't believe the sort of changes I've let go without noting down. My HTML skills definitely gone rusty, I forgot how to link, and post pictures. But all will be rectified as of...right now!

So here's a pic. Or two...

Prerequisite details: The Boy is Tim (...uh, yes, no confusion, apparently I have an affinity to the name), 25, Yorkshire lad, university-going arty-type and absolutely sweet and funny and sharp and been really really good to and for me.

What did I do to deserve such a great guy?

In all honesty, I had my doubts, and fears...I've expected him to wake up everyday and thought it was all a big mistake and walk away...but I guess the fears were bordering on unreasonable paranoia, and I am learning to trust and believe that the situation is permanent. I've always thought of falling for someone as fireworks and great big fluttering heartbeats and butterflies in stomach...but I guess I'm starting to learn that maybe, just maybe this is the other kind, the kind you nurture and build together, the kind that inspired the Love Comes Softly kind of stories. Right now we're in the process of building memories together, and so far? So good.

*Fingers crossed*

Tee hee.

Meanwhile...I have a lot on my plate, and definitely is not doing it at the moment, mainly being my dissertation. Am also house-searching, and probably job-seeking, going home in October for a month, and planning, wondering, thinking.

Been a bit stressed to the point of having regular nightmares...rare for me.

But yes, all those and more when I've got time to write them down.

Meanwhile, a look of Sheffield in Summer

Okay, I just want to stick this somewhere...

2009-07-31T15:34:00.000+01:00

The lack of plans

2009-07-27T16:13:00.000+01:00

Funny it seems how I've forgotten to jot down memories these days...or rather, the past year or so, considering I've faithfully done it for the best part of the last 10 years.

Has it really been a decade already since I've reached teenagehood, went through mid-teen life crisis and is now slowly awakening to the fact that I am indeed an adult, not daddy's little girl anymore?

"You need a plan." So Tim said.

But...That's how I've been operating for a long, long while now. Planless. Without plans. Day-to-day. Some days it nags at me; I know its not the best of plans. I don't know why I've placed blockers on my brain, stopped myself from looking to the future, planning for tomorrow. I definitely have a fear of commitment, it was certainly terrible how long it took me to click on that 'Buy now' button for my flight home. I hesitate to go left, right, up, down...I guess if there's an analogy, its that there's many doors (still) opened and I don't know which ones to slam shut.

Should I be worried I don't have a Plan? What IS my Life Plan anyway? I don't remember anymore. Had there been one to start with? Who would've known I'll end up where I am today, not that 'today' is static because tomorrow I'll be somewhere else?

The wanderlust in me tamed and waned slightly, but the thirst for adventure has not been quelled, not in the slightest. Am feeling a bit restless, like I need to go on life's another chapter, but I need to be patient, to wait, to finish this task before I can hop over the other side. All I know is, I'm not ready to go home, not yet, not by long shot.

I came out here to find answers, and so far, made more questions. I've learnt a lot through trial and error, burnt my own fingers more than once, and I hope not only am I a better person for it, but a tougher, wiser one. I definitely know what I don't honestly care about - Michael Jackson dying, most of world politics, writing another academic paper and the drinking life, but I care too little about things that mattered too - my mom, my family, loved ones, friends, politics at home...But the nightmares I had the last couple of days serve as a wake up call.

Yes. I think I need a Plan. But nothing too specific.

Because I like the thrill, stress and wonder of an unplanned adventure.

Telly at 3am is no good

2009-06-26T16:13:00.000+01:00

Ha, now that I finally discovered I've got IPTV, I've spent evenings in watching loads of it, catching up on what I've been missing out. And after a couple hours of repetitive news of Michael Jackson's death (feels surreal innit?) and a call to my mom at 7am her time to inform her (she was less than pleased), I just decided to swap channels to BBC1...and watched something that's fluffy but pretty close to my heart.

It was Claire Richards from Steps and her journey into weight loss and wedding day. She went from size 18 to 10 within 8 months, and I cried watching her. There were scenes of her trying on clothes from her fat days, and the elation, disbelief and disgust of her former self. The before and after photos. the symbolic getting rid of her fat clothes. The difficulty of losing that last bit of stubborn pudge.

Yeah, I've been there. But what struck me was, that inadequacy for being big (contradictory, no?), the questioning other girls on self-image and feelings about certain things, and the insecurity...it never really goes does it. It comes back like a phantom, haunting you and crippling you at vital moments. At one point she said, she'll never ever want to go through all that again. I nodded, and cried. It wasn't easy, I'd never want to go through what I did to lose that weight, but now I'm slowly watching myself pile up, drop off, pile up, drop off, and its horrible. I know its more to do with my lifestyle and refusal to join a gym or do any sort of hardcore fitness stuff. I don't remember how I did it, I know what motivated me, and sometimes I just need to remind myself I've came a long, long way.

Growing up being big in a society that requires you to be thin to be accepted left such an impression on me, that even being in a nation where I am short and small does not help me kick off the impression that I'm still too fat and too plain. Some days I know I'm not. Others, I fake the confidence. I wonder how many girls live their lives in constant vengeance about their sizes, and constant struggle to accept and love themselves. Maybe more than we'll ever suspect. It reassures me that I'm not alone, not by long measure. I know I've written about this time and again, but goes to show even with time lapsing behind me, nothing changes too much, does it. I'll forever be haunted by my phantoms, and it'll be up to me to banish them, or at least, keep them under control.

In the end, Claire was glowing and absolutely beautiful in her wedding dress. I know I harbour dreams of trying on and having pictures of me in a dress, without a man, because I just want to look beautiful, and like a bride. Pure vanity; it doesn't mean I want to get married though! I guess its true every woman, secretly, dreamt of a dream wedding. Me, I just dream of the perfect dress. And the perfect body.

Love thing

2009-06-16T16:13:00.000+01:00

I don't know how much it takes, or how well you need to know a person to jump into relationships.

I know I've always and constantly and annoyingly bemoaned my singlehood status, but I've lived the lifestyle, and lived it well. And I hesitate to leave it behind, because of all the 'opportunities' I feel like I'm missing out on if I stopped. Just do whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted, and meet many, many guys. I'm tired of all the random meets though, as nothing comes out of anything up to this point. I crave stability and a constant supply of cuddles.

And then it all turns topsy-turvy.

But the one burning question is: what does it take, that magic that's needed for me to envision a relationship. I know I've chatted about connection and chemistry with someone lately, and personally felt that I really need to connect, and this is beyond physical attraction, for me to be really attracted to someone. Someone I can trade not only anecdotes and mini-amusing-stories of my life, but also share deep, profound, meaningful conversations with. Someone I felt like there'll be enough there to sustain a huge commitment with. Basically someone I can talk about my fears, insecurities, reasons and thoughts about openly, and him me. Stories of my past and what made me, me. Part of it is my fault; I've stopped being open and honest and direct. I wish I know how to open the lines of communication.

Right now I am so torn.

I want to do the right thing. To be fair. I know I've always rushed things in the past, and knowing better now, I want to be more aware and have no hurt parties. I've been told I'd be a fool for not grabbing an opportunity (and a decent bloke). I'm just overthinking it and scared. I've gotten hurt. Faith in men isn't exactly very high. Met complete twats. And all that. So I hesitate to trust and just go with things.

Yeah I'm a crazy, crazy girl (Marcia's words).

This is worth a note

2009-05-31T16:12:00.000+01:00

Yep, this is really note-worthy.

I spent the better part of last evening laughing in amusement and irony.
We went on a night out to Crystal, and when all my friends had left, and it was only me and Xin, a guy from my Democratization class left...

Not only did I not manage to pull anyone (not that I was on the pull)...
...But HE pulled two decent looking male bitches.

It's set in stone.

I am going to be single forever.

In addition...

I am Puiyee, fag hag.
At your service.

Doodle-da-tum

2009-05-26T16:11:00.000+01:00

Warning: expletives ahead. It IS 5.15am. I have NOT been to sleep. And I greatly want some sleep.

This is abso-fukin-lutely crap.

I am wide awake with Red Bull-induced caffeine swimming in my veins, my heart pumping and head pounding. I feel like I want to throw up.

Watched the day got dark, and the dark got light. 2/3 through my crappy essay on Korean Democratization and all the various Kims and Parks and Rhees floating in my peripheral thoughts and doing no justice to them.

Got tired, and picked up one of those chick lit I have for a spot of bimbo-reading pleasure before putting it down to get some sleep. Sleep didn't come.

And underneath my overly-warm duvet for end-of-spring, found my mind wandering, unpleasantly, loathingly back to men and my (lack of) love life. Again. WHY!? I just want to pack it nicely, and chuck it at the corner of my bottom drawer, forget about it. Not worry about it. Not even need to think about it. As a very wise friend once advised, men are only men.

...And it all amounts to nothing in the end.

Box it all up, maybe island-living isn't all that bad.

I'm sorry. I'm admittedly pathetic, boring and a little circular in my thoughts. I'm a bag of misery. I need a spot of self-bashing right now. What in the effin name is wrong with me. God. Stop it already.

Stupid sad eejit.

Fkin hell I really need to get on with this essay. Then all this thoroughly mind-screwing, time-consuming, energy-wasting and inconvenient thoughts will all go away. I swear, brain is just having fun distracting me from the real problems.

Eargh. Fkin frustrated I am right now.

"£$^^"£$^%&*(*&^$£"£$%^&*£$"R"%TY^T^&*(&^%$£"£$%^&^%$£"!

Banana shortbread

2009-05-17T16:11:00.000+01:00

(A)
250g sugar
130g margarine (I used butter)
1 tsp sodium bicarbonate
1/2 tsp salt

(B)
2 eggs

(C)
300g banana, mashed

(D)
300g plain flour
1/2 tsp baking powder
80ml milk

(E)
100g chopped walnuts

Cream (A) till light and fluffy. Add (B) and cream till smooth. Add (C), mix till well blended. Mix (D) till well combined. Add (E) and mix till well incorporated.

Pour mixture into a greased and lined loaf tin (L20cm X W10cm X H8.5cm). This quantity and mixture makes 2 loaves. To make the bread look extra attractive, sprinkle some chopped walnuts on top. Bake at 180C for 45 minutes.

Thoughts bouncing in my head

2009-05-08T16:10:00.000+01:00

I wish I can press a reset button, erase certain things I've seen and done.
I wish I hadn't fucked up.
I wish I can relearn rights and wrongs.
I wish I live in more blacks and whites, and not slink from one shade of gray to another and another.
I wish I made more prudent choices, and not live to regret them.
I wish I am not tormented by all this and knowing that I've done it to myself single-handedly.
I wish I knew where to go from here.
I wish I can have the faith, for just a moment, that things will sort themselves out.
I wish I can finally stop fighting, and start accepting.
I wish I can release these personal demons haunting me.
I wish for wisdom, patience and faith.
I wish I can still believe, hope and dream.
It's not too late...
Nor is it impossible.
I'd like to believe so.

Disclaimer: I'm okay. I really am. Just middle of the night, stressed out. Lesson is, if I expect a lot from myself, I better start performing. And find the bloody motivation to do so instead of a million other whimsical distractions.
*Smacks self*

Singletini

2009-04-18T16:10:00.000+01:00

Don't mind the title....it's just a nice catchphrase for us singles out there.

And don't get me wrong. I do enjoy being single. I go through phases of extreme loneliness and depression about not having anyone, but most of the time, especially when I'm out, I like being the roving single. I like being able to flirt with whoever I wanted, making those eye contact and thinking, 'yes, score!' when he looks over, and going wherever I wanted whenever I pleased, without needing to be accountable to anyone. Just pack up and leave, and stay with whoever I liked.

But I'm also tired of meeting new people all the time, trying to suss them out...trying to see if the jigsaw puzzle fits, and the disappointment upon disappointment...and then there's the meeting all the wrong guys and getting the wrong attention. And when you stand at traffic lights, or anywhere with a crowd, you look at the couples and wistfully wish for some affection, too. But then the crowd moves, and life goes on. And then I'm a little confused by my mom's questioning, it feels like she's putting the pressure a little for me to find someone. I wish I can explain, it's really not that easy. It takes one hell of a guy to be able to take me for me, and vice versa. All this time I've never talked about guys with her, and I'm unwilling to start now. It'll happen when it happens, that's what I've concluded.

Am a little bitter and cynical about guys, but lately that's turned around a little, and maybe, just maybe there are decent guys left yet in this country, but still. I get unsure, don't know if I want this, and it's been such a long time since I've felt all those good feelings, falling for someone, and here I stand, not wanting to go there again, not wanting to get hurt again. I've not allowed myself to trust or like a person for so long, don't know if I'm capable of it again.

I like the status quo. Singlehood.

But I also want to be able to get some affection and someone I can trust and talk to. Share the good, the bad and the ugly. The ups and downs. The funny and the profound. The holding hands, looking across the room and seeing him there...I miss all that. And I've always enjoyed the chase. And being chased. Which is contradictory to what I wanted to come across as - tough, independent, capable. Yeah, yeah, I'm a bag of contradictions.

I don't know what I want.

Just someone to sweep me off my feet.

Meanwhile, I think I just want a good proper snog.

Yeah don't mind me, this is a pointless rant.

This is why...

2009-04-04T16:08:00.001+01:00

You've described a condition called "Alcohol Flush Reaction". This condition is due to an inactive enzyme which is normally responsible for the breakdown of acetaldehyde, a by product of the metabolism of alcohol. Acetaldehyde is a toxin from alcohol. Because the body is unable to break it down, the accumulation of the poison in the blood stream causes flushing (redness in face and chest). This condition (inactive enzyme) is said to be more prevalent amongst the Asian community and is attributed to their lower levels of alcoholism; due to the fact that the reaction prompts them to stop the abuse of alcohol by nonconsumption of alcohol.

Click here

Alcohol flush reaction (Asian Flush, Asian Glow, Red Cheeks, Oriental Flush, Big Blush) is a condition in which the body cannot break down ingested alcohol completely, due to a missense polymorphism that encodes the enzyme, acetaldehyde dehydrogenase (ALDH2) [1], normally responsible for breaking down acetaldehyde, a product of the metabolism of alcohol.[2] Flushing, or blushing, is associated with the erythema (reddening caused by dilation of capillaries) of the face, neck, shoulder, and in some cases, the entire body after consumption of alcohol.

Wikipedia article

Okay, this is why I don't usually drink...and the answer is not in 'building up' tolerance, it's not going to happen!

My loyalties

2009-03-21T15:08:00.000Z

I've had a few conversations with a Malay person recently...and it despaired me.

We talked about racism in Malaysia, and I said how disappointed I am that to this day we could not look past the colour of our skin.

She mentioned the Social Contract, and why the Malays still cannot accept the Chinese and Indians as one Bangsa.

It is because they are suspicious. They do not know where Chinese and Indian loyalties lie.

I mustered all the dignity I had, and told her, here halfway across the world where I am right now, that Malaysia is my home, my motherland, my heart.

"Hidup orang Malaysia, mati orang Malaysia".

And in a very sad way, I wondered how dare she question where my loyalties lie.

I thought of my family, my friends, the people who were in the Bersih rally, the Pantai Dalam rally, the vigils and the fight for a better Malaysia. We are all of all creeds and colours. All wanting a better Malaysia.

Is there a need, is there really a need, to ask where our loyalties are?

Mind jogging at 3.30am

2009-03-14T15:07:00.000Z

I've just finished Paulo Coelho's The Pilgrimage, and these huge, powerful, revealing thoughts are swimming in my brain and I guess I best capture them before they flee into everyday, mundane life...

In gist, it is really about a pilgrim's journey on the Road to Santiago, in search for his sword with his guide Petrus. But he will not find it until he discovered the secret of his sword. And the secret was what to do with his sword once he found it.

But in usual Coelho fashion, he weaved in stories of pride, wisdom, self-discovery and humbleness. The Road to Santiago is a road for the common people. Everyone of us, if we just open our eyes to it, and stop denying its existence, is able to achieve our dreams. But we lose the will to fight the good fight, and resign ourselves to a life of not ever achieving our dreams.

He wrote of love, in its purest form - agape. It consumes us and allows us to push on. But it is this form of love that so many people experience and pass on to others in form of giving and sacrifices.

And only by teaching others, would we learn most. Perhaps Coelho is right, the answers' already in our hearts, and it takes very simple things, like listening and watching, to find them. Petrus told the pilgrim that it was only by teaching that he truly understood the meaning of the pilgrimage and all that it encompassed, and his own true path.

Happiness is not a sin. So why are so many people afraid to be happy? And yet perhaps the most humbling thought I had was why do I personally covet happiness, as if its the end of the road for me, that I figure all this self-searching and painful loneliness will lead me to some answers, and yet I fear finding it?

It clicked in my mind, just as the pilgrim finally realised why he was denied his sword.

It was because neither of us know what to do with it once we've found it.

The secret of our happiness is what to do with it when we found it.

And to find it we have to fight the good fight...the pilgrim was forced to climb waterfalls, raise crosses, climb mountains and the final steps to achieving them all would be the hardest, easiest to fail or give up, the point where you're prone to question thyself, and get cold feet...and yet you've got to fight the good fight. The final hurdle humbles you, and serves as a reminder that you've came a long way.

Mind-provoking. Very humbling.

Cry my beloved Malaysian soul

2009-02-07T15:06:00.000Z

Cry my beloved Malay soul
AB Sulaiman | Feb 6, 09 10:51am
http://www.malaysiakini.com/opinions/97705

When Alan Paton wrote ‘Cry The Beloved Country’ he was lamenting over the inhumanity of man over man, of how the whites can devise, construct and implement race- and colour-based social and economic injustices over the blacks in apartheid-era South Africa.
MCPX

The whole world had condemned this practice; we were among the loudest screaming against it.

South Africa has moved on since then, and today it is one shining example of an emancipated, open and progressive country, enjoying a respectable place in the community of nations. It has thrown apartheid into the bins of its history.

malaysia people rakyatHere in Malaysia, yes we condemn apartheid, and quite rightly so. But in the same breath we were and are still its major proponent our version of apartheid.

We do not call it apartheid; of course not. We call it instead ‘Ketuanan Melayu’ under the guise of ‘championing Malay rights,’ and implementing it under the New Economic Policy. It’s smart, right? In none of them does the word ‘apartheid’ appear!

Yes, we are smart. We do not blatantly call it apartheid, we merely perfected the process of social separation. First of all we ensure the great majority of civil servants, the police, and the military are manned by Malays (the target benefactors). We give them good salaries, good perks and assured employment. We then devise rules and regulations, and even laws, to ensure the NEP’s easy implementation.

We then brainwash our Malay brethren with the notion ‘untuk agama bangsa dan negara’ that there is a higher ideal beyond performing a duty with professionalism and dedication, and that is doing things in the name of religion and race.

We devise rules and regulations, and even laws, to ensure the NEP’s easy implementation.

Then we design and implement social and economic policies like channeling lucrative government contracts, separate education streams, housing rebates, banking and financial support, in favour of, you guessed it, the Malays.

It does not stop there. We devise measures to prevent the people from raising too much objections to all these by introducing or continuing legislation and religiously implementing them.

The Sedition Act for example stops people from talking too much about language and religion. The Official Secrets Act prevents people from gaining access to government files.

Students and lecturers are not allowed to discuss and make public any subject that would appear to be critical to government (yes, government, not political) policies and philosophies.

All publications must, first of all, get operating licences. Newspapers must not only get a licence before publishing but it must be renewed every year.

Sacrifices conveniently forgotten
The king of all of the suppressive and oppressive laws is the Internal Security Act, when a citizen can be put under detention without the benefit of any charge!

All said and done, we sacrifice the rule of law in favour of rule by private individuals. To show that we are really smart, we pooh pooh the loyalty and patriotism of the non-Malay segment of the population.

We call them pendatang or immigrants bearing the stigma that they are social discard from their original country, similar to rogues, rascals, refugees, mercenaries and scoundrels. We just ignore their proven talent and ability in wealth creation and economic productivity, as well as to their demonstrated loyalty and patriotism.

Many of such pendatangs have made the ultimate sacrifices as military personnel defending its security, during the Emergency, the Confrontation period with Indonesia and as policemen while policing the social environment.

They have contributed and are continuing to, in sport and the arts. Their record as loyal and patriotic Malaysians is quite impeccable. But we do not really care.

The perplexing thing is that despite these attributes and positive records of the non-Malays, we are still going about championing and implement apartheid principles. In this new year, perhaps we can do with a little reflection: why are we doing all this?

We do this apparently to recover our lost soul. We perceive that we have been victims of colonisation when the Portuguese, Dutch and British colonisers all but butchered the Malay entity, psychology and culture. In the process we perceive that we have lost our Malay identity.

With independence, we thought we could recapture the lost glory of Malay suzerainty by becoming masters of all facets of a nation, especially its commerce, and economy. We found out that the Chinese community had beaten us to it.

We felt the Chinese had capitalised on our weakness and captured the economic initiatives (and wealth) as well as the social characteristics of the country. We lost ‘face’.

Now we want to regain the mertabat or dignity and pride of the Malay race!

Yes, we feel that we have to recover our soul and it is here that we are reminded of Paton’s book title, but in this case suitably paraphrased to – cry my beloved Malay soul.

Our Malay soul needs to cry for doing the right thing for the wrong reason or the wrong thing for the right reason; even for the wrong thing for the wrong reason, but not for the right thing for the right reason.

To start with colonisation is really not an excuse for our psychological malaise and ineptitude.

Colonisation has been a feature of human history and felt all over the world. There are very few countries that have not been colonised in the world.

It is thus a neutral concept in human social and economic development. It is certainly not an impediment to social or economic progress as we are wont to portray it. We should dump this notion that we hold dear into the bin of history.

Rethinking our way of thinking
Just look at the records. The Koreans were once colonised by the Japanese, but today Korea is an industrial power house. Singapore was once colonised by the British and was indeed a part of us, and today we see this tiny country being a solid financial, trading and industrial entity.

Most pointedly of all, the US was once a British colony and today it is the mightiest nation in the world. Our second grouse - that the Chinese have cornered the economic sector of the country also needs re-looking into, on two counts.

First, the Chinese did not become successful based on any conscious and concerted economic programme to economically marginalise us.

We did this self-inflicted wound ourselves. As proof, we have to note that most of the Chinese came to our shores with only their feet, hands, guts and brains and perhaps a bundle of clothes, nothing more.

They become successful for their hard work, both physically and mentally and for the sacrifices they were prepared to make and had undertaken. They were successful for having the mental fortitude to seek opportunities, grab those that come along and worked extra hard to realise the potentials of these opportunities.

Secondly, we have been given a chance to be equal with them, both under numerous 'special privileges' enshrined in the Constitution, as well as under its NEP implementation programme.

The special privileges have always been in the constitution while the latter began in 1970. In short, we have been given the chance - the opportunity - many times over, to better our Malay polity.

Whereas the Chinese had to struggle just to find and identify the opportunities, in our case they were handed to us on a silver platter!

Thus far we have failed to capitalise adequately on them. It rather shameful we missing out on these chances specially created for us in the first place.

Either way the root cause of our weaknesses and the strength of the Chinese lies in two words - positive thinking. Our thinking is mired with so many dos and don’ts, so many musts and musn’ts, so many cans and cannots, may and may nots, plenty enough to created and internalise doubts and fears in our minds.

So much so that we have doubt over what we can and what we can’t do, what is allowed and what is not. We spend a lifetime looking for these highly complex cans and cannots, musts and must nots, that we have hardly any mental energy left to develop and self-confidence to get on and face the realities of life.

Let’s refer to this case as the ‘can’t don’t and won’t syndrome’. The Chinese by the way are not encumbered by such syndromes.

What appears to have happened is that this syndrome has affected our mental ability to conceptualise. We see things on the straight and narrow. We accept wisdoms handed down to us by our elders as the gospel truth.

Blinded by sentiment
We do not see that things can be seen and interpreted in many alternative ways. We feel we have the monopoly on truth; we therefore think that we are right all the time and other people are wrong all the time. Witness the way we see religion for example.

We think that we as Muslims are right and other people who profess other religions are wrong, all the time.

We need to cry for thinking that we can and have doctored the way the people think and do things. We have been intimidating the people with what they can read or write or think and do.

We seem to be saying "you can think anything, do anything, write anything so long as it does not criticise or condemn the government".

Soul-searching and resuscitating is not or should not be about pointing accusing fingers at some bogeys. That would be a most negative thing to do. It would be better for us to be open-minded and be able to identify our own strengths and weaknesses.

We improve upon our strengths and dump our weaknesses. Mainly we must be able to develop the awareness that we have both the strengths and weaknesses in the first place.

To illustrate, the NEP has proved many time over as a failed strategy for our socio-economic advancement. Let us be aware of this in the first place and move on seeking other ways with better chance of success.

How about secularising the Malay mind? It might make for a good start for we can see many of the don’ts, can’ts, musn’ts dissipating into the wind.

In the meantime, here we are in the early days of a new year. We should begin by realising that whatever 'smart’ moves we had undertaken all this while have not really been that smart after all.

The joke is on us. Everybody says so – the liberated Malays, the non-Malays, our neighbours and the rest of the international community. Only those of us basking in our closed mind and benefiting from the profits of the status quo say it’s alright.

Happy New Year all the same and here’s hoping this year we can get a good perspective as to what propagating a good mertabat really means. It’s long overdue.

In the meantime, cry my beloved Malay soul.

25 thigns meme

2009-01-31T15:05:00.000Z

Rules: Once you've been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with 25 random things, facts, habits, or goals about you. At the end, choose 25 people to be tagged.

1. I am a huge Harry Potter fan. The books accompanied me through my school days: I read the first one beginning of my secondary school years and the final one in my final year at uni. Its the great amount of imagination, and work/research Rowling's put into it that made it so magical and engaging. I'm almost terribly realistic but Harry Potter made me imagine, so its quite a feat really.

2. I love Grey's Anatomy - drama, medicine, good looking people, witty dialogues, sex. What's not to like except the more and more absurb plot and Danny's disturbing appearances? Actually I love most medical dramas. ER, House, Medical Investigations, CSI (all 3 of it)...hmm.

3. I'm fascinated with ancient Chinese costumes. Hence me watching TVB's period drama series like Lady Yang and War and Beauty, etc. Actually fine, I like quite a few of them TVB series.

4. Big Milo fan. So big that I bought a bag to UK, had another big bag shipped, had a mate get me a bag when he heads back here and bought a 1kg tin from the Asian grocery store...all within my first 3 months here.

5. Am an affectionate person. I love my hugs and kisses. A lot. And cuddling? Its tops. =)

6. I wish I could, but I don't enjoy alcohol all that much. It doesn't taste or feel good to me. I just get from nothing to too hot and my head throbs and I grow sleepy and then I'd want to throw up. Zero to drunk isn't exactly nice.

7. I'm terrible. I can sleep everywhere. I'm that notorious person at the back of every lecture snoozing away. My parents paid for me to sleep through uni, ha. Being able to get away with it and still do well is crazy. I can sleep on your bed. On a library table. On the bus. The plane. But I don't sleep at night til I'm 2 ticks away from dropping and drooling from lack of sleep.

8. So I'm not a morning person. I'm in a daze and in my own world in the mornings. Don't talk to me. I'll talk to you when I want to and feel like it.

9. I used to be fat. (What, you mean you're not now?!) Yep. At 5'1" I was a size UK 14. That's pretty terrible. One day some superstrength epiphany came over me and I thought enough was really enough. So over 8 months I walked and starved myself down 40lbs (20kg). I cannot and will not put myself through that again. Like I said, it was superstrength. Now I'm back to puny laziness.

10. Because of that, I was teased through school. I had a lot of issues with self-esteem, self-image and confidence. But I wasn't mousy. I was bitchy and defensive. I hurt before I was hurt. That was my modus operandi. No boys ever looked at me. I still have the leftover baggage haunting me (in every sense) but I try to move on and away from all that now. But I think some scars are for life.

11. I get really really bad food cravings, I discover. Right now I'm hankering after nasi lemak, yam cake and my mom's cooking.

12. My favourite fruit is mango. Mango on its own. Mango pudding. Mango cake. Mango scented shower gel. Mango anything. Bring it on.

13. I never remember song lyrics or movies plots. Literally in, and out.

14. I don't have the concentration to read anymore like I used to :(

15. Total Internet junkie. I need to seek help.

16. I love going places and seeing how other people live. Traveling remains my life's passion. I think Bangkok with Gianne, and Penang with the girls would probably be really good memories I'll keep for life.

17. I'm a WYSIWYG person. No bullshit from me.

18. So...I rarely wear make up, dressing up is fun but not a daily affair and sneakers remain my footwear of choice (because I can't wear flip-flops in this weather can I?!). It's not that I don't like to look good, I just can't be bothered most of the time.

19. I think my dream is to run a cafe or B&B by the sea somewhere watching tourists go by, and close up during off-peak season and travel.

20. I have bad, bad hand-eye and hand-body-leg coordination. I'm clumsy. I'm klutzy. I'm awkward. I'm not comfortable with my own body. Therefore I suck at games, team sports, posing for pics and salsa-ing. General dancing too. However, swimming is good. Swimming is fine. Swimming is solo.

21. I've got no talent in anything, but I think I can write. I hope I'm not delusional about that.

22. I'm bad with budget (you're forewarned).

23. I think I'm really, really picky with my choice of men. Therefore my perpetual singlehood.

24. Not many people know I'm short-sighted. Not many people's seen me with glasses, heck.

25. I'm actually, really shy. I borrow confidence from people I'm with. So the times I actually do approach people and ask, I amaze myself. I'm always too embarassed and shy to do so. Not directions though; I'm capable of asking for directions, ha.

Pan mee

2009-01-29T14:57:00.002Z

Yes.

Today, like many true blue Malaysian foodies, I had four (4) [empat] 四 meals. I'll stress, worry and moan about it tomorrow.

Because today, I got ready for bed at 10pm. And the moment I hit the pillow, my mind was filled with the wonderful images of pan mee. The ones I regularly eat from the dirty stall in Maluri. The kick ass ones my mom made. I couldn't kick the images away. It kept coming back. So I started wondering.

Is it possible...?

I have no minced meat to make the wonderful minced meat we pour generously onto the bowl of noodles with. Am I desperate enough to go down to Tesco's, get a boxful of beef mince, use a spoonful and throw the rest of £4 away? Not really.

I have no sweet potato leaves, which is possibly the soul of the soup.

I have no pan mee noodles, of course, and I don't have flour or the finesse needed to make noodles from scratch.

But I have dried shiitake mushrooms! I have wonderful, wonderful ikan bilis. I have noodles with similar chewy, eggy texture of pan mee.

I nicked someone's half chicken breast and minced it. I've a bagful of rocket-watercress-spinach salad and decided I cannot be picky in the wrong continent.

And I am craving pan mee at 10pm.

Do I remember how to make the minced meat and shiitake mushrooms? Huh. After watching my mom do it every other weekend for the better part of my life, you fkin bet.

And this, this is something I hadn't had since September. This stuff is even better than the ones my mom use in her kitchen, because it's the bigger, cheaper kind, the kind we get from hawkers and kopitiams (sorry mom!)

THIS. This is the no-fail, craving-satisfying bowl of steaming pan mee, and pretty true to my mom's version (plus modifications).

Ahhh. I am a very happy person.

And yes, so happy that I felt compelled to blog about it. Now I can sleep happy.

*Sighs in deeeeeep satisfaction*

Quotes

2009-01-22T14:56:00.000Z

From Paulo Coelho:

“The Soul of the World is nourished by people's happiness. And also by unhappiness, envy, and jealousy. To realize one's Personal Legend is a person's only real obligation. All things are one. And, when you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it.”

“Waiting is painful. Forgetting is painful. But not knowing which to do is the worse kind of suffering.”

“We can never judge the lives of others, because each person knows only their own pain and renunciation. It's one thing to feel that you are on the right path, but it's another to think that yours is the only path.”

“When we least expect it, life sets us a challenge to test our courage and willingness to change; at such a moment, there is no point in pretending that nothing has happened or in saying that we are not ready. The challenge will not wait. Life does not look back. A week is more than enough time for us to decide whether or not to accept our destiny.”

“Be brave. Take risks. Nothing can substitute experience.”

“I think that perhaps we always fall in love the very first time we see the man of our dreams, even though, at the time, reason may be telling otherwise, and we may fight against that instinct, hoping against hope that we won't win, until there comes a point when we allow ourselves to be vanquished by our feelings...”

“Tell your heart that the fear of suffering is worse than the suffering itself. And no heart has ever suffered when it goes in search of its dream.”

“I think that when we look for love courageously, it reveals itself, and we wind up attracting even more love. If one person really wants us, everyone does. But if we're alone, we become even more alone. Life is strange.”

“You have to take risks. We will only understand the miracle of life fully when we allow the unexpected to happen.”

“Everything that happens once can never happen again. But everything that happens twice will surely happen a third time.”

“The moment of that kiss contained every happy moment I had ever lived.”

“The wise are wise only because they love. The fool are fools only because they think they can understand love.”

“One is loved because one is loved. No reason is needed for loving.”

“Pitiful is the person who is afraid of taking risks. Perhaps this person will never be disappointed or disillusioned; perhaps she won't suffer the way people do when they have a dream to follow. But when the person looks back-she will hear her heart”

“Love can consign us to hell or to paradise, but it always takes us somewhere.”

“You drown not by falling into a river, but by staying submerged in it.”

“You can become blind by seeing each day as a similar one. Each day is a different one, each day brings a miracle of its own. It's just a matter of paying attention to this miracle.”

“But there is suffering in life, and there are defeats. No one can avoid them. But it's better to lose some of the battles in the struggles for your dreams than to be defeated without ever knowing what you're fighting for.”

“Every blessing ignored becomes a curse”

“No one can lie, no one can hide anything, when he looks directly into someone's eyes.”

"Why do we have to listen to our hearts?" "Because, wherever your heart is, that is where you'll find your treasure."

"Freedom is not the absence of commitments, but the ability to choose--and commit myself to--what is best for me."

"We all have the ability…we just don't all have the courage to follow our dreams and to follow the signs."

"We wouldn't worry nearly as much about what others thought of us if we recognize how seldom they do."

"Join with those who sing songs, tell stories, enjoy life … because happiness is contagious. Join those who walk with their heads high even when they have tears in their eyes. Avoid those who … have never shed a tear..."

Damn, I love this man.

Self-smacking

2009-01-11T14:55:00.000Z

Okay.

I know I've been unhappy to a point where friends start worrying about me. Really worrying. But let's put things into perspective, yah.

Unhappy
-Men (or the lack thereof)
-Being sick all the time

Happy
-When I meet people I know and I can smile and chat with them
-When I hang out in the ultra modern, airy, huge Information Commons using and abusing its facilities
-When I shop, make and eat good food
-Grocery shop!
-Watching people being stupid drunk on West Street any given night of the week
-Being here, halfway across the world
-New experiences, sights and sensations
-Traveling up and down this great cold country
-The friends I've made
-The friends I still have and will have for many years and many more years to come
-The person I'm learning to be
-Being broke = finding alternatives
-Ending the day knowing I've been a little productive
-Snapping photos and seeing how great they turn out to be
-Snapping photos and lamenting over the dud ones
-When my friends made me food and hand-delivered it to me, and text me to ensure I'm still alive
-When I text my flatmate and he came to my rescue
-When I feel better and the world feels round again
-Seeing people hold hands, all the love I'm surrounded by
-Knowing in the end I have a home and people I love to turn to

Yeah....why am I unhappy again? Me being human meant I've let the bad things overshadow the rest of the (many) good ones. All these good aspects of my life, I don't think I have a right to be unhappy at all.
So, going to give myself one hard smack and snap out of it.

Thank you guys for loving me, you know who you are.

Health-(un)wise

2009-01-08T14:54:00.000Z

I've never had to think so much about my body and health til I came to this blasted, freezing country.

-Bouts of horrid, shiver-inducing, sweat-drenching feverish, hacking, sniffling colds once every 2-3 weeks fucking up my immune system royally
-Gastric pain requiring me to run around asking if people have Antacid at home (maybe I should start carrying some)
-Really really cranky (as in I lose temper and snap at people, literally) and not being able to focus if I uh well, miss a meal or don't eat at proper hours
-Wonky cycles
-Random nosebleeds
-Low energy levels

Okay. Time to get my 22-year old healthy body and immune system back!

2008 - year that was

2008-12-31T14:54:00.000Z

So, strangely, I feel like I'm being dragged across the 2008-2009 bridge without conscious thoughts, like most things I've been doing these days. One day fade to another, one face melt into another and that's how time pass me by. Also, this sensation of transient, temporary state of being, this non-permanency is not anchoring me, and I feel like I'm floating aimlessly. Eeps, for someone looking for answers, perhaps its the best way to go, the whole reason for me to uproot myself and come here, isn't it? That pursuit for something, I know not what anymore.

Very solid concepts also lost its meaning to me, like a day, a month, a year...how will tomorrow be different from today? Dates and months will change, the year will change. And I'm still here. Unchanged? Who and what do I talk with anymore? Even the things that mattered to me are not the same anymore. I've been too willing to not care about things I thought mattered, and too stubborn about other things that shouldn't matter at all. Always that sneaking suspicion that I'm not very likable, lovable or understandable at all. Like I'm faulty, a paradox, and should be traded in for undamaged person - but - that's a stupid way of thinking. I actually ran across a profile full of cliched lines like "Be kinder than necessary, because everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle" and that made me think that there's a grain of truth in there.

I'm going to steal and chuck the whole thing here:
1. There are things that we don't want to happen but have to accept, things we don't want to know but have to learn, and people we cant live without but have to let go.

2. IT'S SAD WHEN..
someone you know becomes someone you knew
when you can walk right past them
like they were never a big part of your life
how you used to be able to talk for hours
and how now you can barely
even look at them

3. Life is short,
Break the rules,
Forgive quickly,
Kiss slowly,
Love truly,
Laugh uncontrollably,
And never regret anything that once made you smile

4. It's true that we don't know what we've got until it's gone but it's also true that we don't know what we've been missing until it arrives.

We're all allowed to be sentimental fools once in a while, and right now its my moment.

Well, 2008 has been as eventful as the last. Marks a lot more significance in my life than I care to list here, but its a year of milestone upon milestone.

- Year I learned about friends, friendship and loyalty.
- Year I learned most people are, well, not to be trusted with too much.
- Year I loved and lost...or was that lost and loved? Not that it mattered anymore.
- Year I graduated.
- Year I left home and ran away across the world.
- Year I learned how trying it is working with a best friend and a person I despise all at once.
- Year I go to grad school.
- Year I go through life not too worried about how I look like, because now it shouldn't matter anymore.
- Year I learned most men are arseholes (heh, we know that's true)
- Year I met a lot more people from everywhere, and learning how very alike we all are, despite the differences.
- Year I laughed and cried a whole lot more with the people I love and cherish.

There's others...but I guess what really matters is that its been another learning year, and while it wasn't all happy and dandy, its all been an experimental year of experiences. Have I got a resolution for 2009? Well, the same old things - learn more, laugh more, live life and remember to be a better person.

*Wipes the dust of 2008 off*

Hey ho 2009.

Love Actually

2008-12-25T14:53:00.000Z

I actually wrote this on a piece of scrap because its the middle of the night and I can't log into Phan Shean's 'puter. Am in Newcastle 'celebrating' Christmas with the fella, roasted a small turkey even. Weekend before Christmas I was in town on the way home, it was 2am and the party revelers were outside, all drunk and merry, none of the walking in a straight line, it felt so eerie. It was like walking a dead city, shops closed with only the lights on, and walking zombies stumbling slightly on the uneven cobbled roads.

Anyway, the title does refer to the movie, which I watch alone last night, Shean leaving me 1/3 of the way in because in his words, can't really see a point to the movie and it's pretty much hit-and-miss. Its about various kinds of love and its many betrayals - there's the widowed man and his-very-much-in-love-with-girl-in-his-grade 6-year old stepson, a bored, roving husband, a bloke in love with the woman who married his best mate, a working class girl falling in love with the PM, a blossoming love between two people despite language barriers, an ugly fooker whose life mission is to look for quick and many many shags, and people falling in love despite the most awkward of circumstances.

We all know people in various stages of that. On the way in and out of love. Maybe you're in one of those yourself. Love remains the biggest, most elusive mystery the human race is plagued with. What is this thing really. All the self-help books in bookstores teaching us all to how to present ourselves, how to date, how to maintain relationships, how to get over breakups. People live and die for it. It's many a splendoured thing; it is the purest of pain. The millions of songs, movies and human expression dedicated to love, to recognise, celebrate and mourn it.

It seems ridiculous, really.

But I am a cynic, and in a short time, learnt to be cold about it. Nothing like have loved and lost to make a person wary. And nothing like knowing a person can like me but do nothing to endear himself to me and expects me to still be there, that selfish kind. So I come to a point where I am indifferent. Not like I don't get excited, or that I don't fall for someone but it takes a lot more. And I'll always hold back in case he walks away again. That way I don't get as hurt anymore. That way I can walk off another episode unscathed. So it's not a lack of enthusiasm. Its self-preservation. I need that. Don't get me wrong. There are many decent men. I cannot pretend to deny that. There will always be happy couples, there will always be boy-meet-girl and fall-for-each-other. Maybe not for me, not this time. Not for a while yet. Somewhere along the lines, I stopped thinking the problem is me. Somehow, I know its just fate and not something that is within my control. Got to let go. Who knows, I spent too much time on it already. Enough. There's other things in my life to take care of.

Also, there are life's needs and life's wants. Love is a want. The needs...? If I really really need to, they're pretty bloody easy to fulfill. But I still like bit of a challenge. Pick and choose. But I get used to not having anyone sticking around. Fine, fine. Normally I don't think twice about my choices. Tis a woman's prerogative, as they say. But...

Call it a narcissistic moment. Pivotal. Just something I want to note, almost.

I might regret this one.

Fears

2008-12-02T14:52:00.000Z

If people were to ask me if I have a fear....I might say I don't know.
But I do, and it's a silly one.

Doorknobs.

I'm always afraid I'll get electrocuted (metal knobs = amazing conductors) and that's the legacy of my old uni. We always play a game of chance, tapping the knob with the tip of our fingers before withdrawing quickly and hoping we don't get that painful jolt whenever we have to open doors. And I found I do that here too. I'm aware it's a psychological thing, the whole 'once bitten twice shy' saying. So if anyone noticed me tapping knobs before opening doors (though people won't) there you go, I have a perfect explanation.

Same with other things in life, we all had painful experiences, learn from them, and learn to avoid them.

Brilliant piece of forwarded snark

2008-12-01T14:52:00.000Z

----- Forwarded Message ----
From:
To:
Sent: Wednesday, November 26, 2008 9:23:15 AM
Subject: FW: Fatwa-fatwa yang akan datang - Please read

Makin hari umat Islam makin ditindas dan dikongkong. Bukan oleh orang Cina, atau orang India atau orang Yahudi atau orang Kristian. Tetapi dianiya dan dikongkong oleh orang Islam/Melayu sendiri. Please read on.

Selepas fatwa pengharaman yoga, fatwa-fatwa yang akan datang adalah seperti berikut :

Disember 2008
Orang Islam dilarang mandi di kolam renang awam. Di kolam renang awam, akan terdapat orang-orang yang bukan Islam yang memakai pakaian renang yang singkat dan mendedahkan aurat (terutamanya amoi-amoi china yang cun dan seksi). Ini boleh menjejaskan akidah orang Islam. Cara yang paling baik ialah kita haramkan orang Islam dari kolam renang awam.

Januari 2009
Orang Islam dilarang pergi ke Pulau Pinang. Ketua Menteri Pulau Pinang adalah seorang yang bukan Islam and majoriti penduduk Pulau Pinang adalah orang yang bukan Islam. Apabila seorang Islam berada di Pulau Pinang , beliau mungkin terhidu bau char keoy tiaw yang dimasak oleh orang bukan Islam dan ini boleh merosakkan akidah kita. Cara yang paling baik ialah kita haramkan orang Islam dari pergi ke Pulau Pinang. Orang Islam yang kini tinggal di Pulau Pinang akan diberi elaun pindah sebanyak RM 3000 untuk membantu mereka berpindah ke negeri-negeri yang lain. Perpindahan ke negeri Kelantan dan Terengganu amat amat digalakkan.

Februari 2009
Orang Islam dilarang meminum root beer. Walaupun root beer tidak mengandungi alkohol, namun perkataan "beer" ini boleh menimbulkan keghairan dan kelakuan tidak senonoh di kalangan orang Islam. Dengan pengharaman root beer, orang Islam bolehlah meminum minuman ringan yang lain tanpa was-was. Ginger beer juga diharamkan.

March 2009
Orang Islam dilarang memakan di kedai Mamak. Walaupun mamak kebanyakkannya Islam, tetapi asal usul mereka adalah India dan ada kemungkinan terdapat unsur-unsur India di dalam perniagaan mereka seperti bercakap Tamil dan memakai seluar dalam buatan India . Untuk mengelakkan sebarang syak wasangka, mulai 1 Mac 2009, orang Islam dilarang dari memakan di kedai mamak (kecuali Tun Mahatir kerana dia sendiri mamak kelas I)

April 2009
Orang Islam dilarang bermain ping pong atau table tennis. Ping pong berasal dari negeri China dan oleh yang demikian, mungkin terdapat unsur-unsur agama Buddha atau Confuciusism di dalam permainan ping pong. Ornag Islam yang terlalu banyak bermain ping pong akan terjejas akidah mereka. Sebagai permainan alternatif, orang Islam digalakkan bermain sepak raga (tetapi bola raga mesti buatan Malaysia , bukan dari Thailand ).

Mei 2009
Orang Islam yang berkerja dengan kerajaan dilarang mengambil gaji masing-masing. Ini kerana sebahagian besar pendapatan kerajaan adalah cukai pendapatan yang dibayar oleh syarikat-syarikat orang bukan Islam. Orang Islam digalakkan meminta sedekah dari orang Islam yang lain. Untuk memudahkan permintaan sedekah, bakal peminta sedekah digalakkan mencangkung di hadapan bangunan UMNO.

Jun 2009
Orang Islam dilarang keluar negara. Terdapat terlalu banyak godaan yang boleh meruntuhkan akhlak dan akidah orang Islam. Perkara ini telahpun dikaji dengan teliti hasil lawatan sambil belajar ke Bangkok oleh Majlis Fatwa Kebangsaan baru-baru ini. Oleh yang demikian, orang orang Islam diminta menyerahkan balik paspot masing-masing ke jabatan immigresen secepat mungkin. Perjalanan keluar negara hanya dibenarkan untuk menteri-menteri dan orang kuat UMNO sahaja, itupun hanya jika diiringi oleh ahli Majlis Fatwa Kebangsaan.

Julai 2009
Orang Islam dilarang berfikir di waktu siang. Kebanyakkan masalah jenayah dan maksiat wujud kerana orang-orang yang tak ada kerja berfikir yang bukan-bukan. Untuk membenteras maslah jeneyah dan maksiat, orang-orang Islam mulai 1 Julai 2009, dilarang dari menggunakan otak mereka diwaktu siang. Pemikiran mereka akan dipantau oleh Majlis Fatwa Kebangsaan dengan menggunakan sekumpulan specially trained monkeys. Orang Islam boleh menggunakan otak mereka di waktu malam tetapi pemikiran dihadkan kepada perkara-perkara berkaitan dengan makan dan minum sahaja.

Please do not laugh. Many of the above will become a reality if we do not do anything. The rational-thinking muslims in this country are simply not doing anything. We let a very small minority of narrow-minded idiots to control our lives. We, especially the Malay muslims, are fast becoming a laughing stock worldwide. We are obsessed with the little little things.

When there are so many important things remain to be done, why must the Fatwa folks spend their time on little things.. tomboys, yoga, etc, etc. Why don't we ever hear anything from the Fatwa folks for social justice, eradicating corruption and poverty, protecting single mothers, helping the poors, educating the ummah, protecting the environment or ensuring fairness in society.

If you are a rationale, forward thinking muslim, please speak up. If you choose to remain silent, it only means that you agree with whatever is happening. And do not blame the non-muslims for all our troubles. We are asking for it.

Bukhari Hood
Shah Alam

Short thought on human rights

2008-11-18T14:51:00.000Z

I've been writing an essay on human rights, and just been intrigued by this:

Different societies and states value different kinds of rights. There are essentially two divisions:

a) Civil and political rights
b) Economic and social rights

They are ALL basic rights, and interlinked, inalienable and indivisible. Yet, no one single state had came to provide all for their citizens.

The United States of America value civil and political rights. Very much. Free speech and the right to vote for them first. Neo-liberalism ideas, the very epitome of freedom. Their people also do not have access nor rights to universal healthcare, nor education. The poor are blamed for being poor. The premise is: You have to work to receive. Welfare states are pooh-poohed. The downtrodden depend very much on charities and foundations for their needs. Tax money goes towards 'free' causes. Like, you know, wars? Also, to institutions like IMF and World Bank so that they have the biggest say. And...yet. One in ten...that's one in TEN, y'all! is living in poverty in United States. Poverty isn't just a problem in the developing and undeveloped world.

Zoom onwards to socialist and developing countries, and to a certain degree, United Kingdom. Economic and social rights reign. Universal healthcare and education for all. Limited free speech. Job security, pensions. In other words, all your basic needs are met. But I reiterate, your speech is limited, you have no right to carry guns (is that really a big issue?) but, it doesn't mean a complete blackout in political rights or free speech. You just need to pick the right apples. Filling the stomach is more important. Now, there have been outrage about the seemingly lack of political and civil rights in other countries. And there are studies saying people from say, China and Singapore do not have too much problem with that. Hmm. There should be censorship of sorts - in one source, a Singaporean was quoted as saying:

"I think that total freedom of speech might bother me more. I know that's the wrong kind of thing to say to you isn't it? But you read about total freedom of speech and how people can't stop - people in America for instance can't stop people getting up big rallies with the neo-fascists and holocaust deniers and anti abortionists and anti-gay movements. And you can't stop these people from saying things and sending out hate mail because they have freedom of speech. They are protected. And that I find more scary".

Two things really:

1. Civil and political rights are free to provide. In other words, the United States need not allocate any budget at all towards the provision of those rights for its citizens. Other countries spend gazilion bazillion on providing economic and social rights for their people.

To me, every unfortunate working person is taxed, no matter where they call home. What their tax money is used for...that is the difference. Starting to see something here?

2. Matt Bishop said this in class, and I don't remember the exact thing he said, so I paraphrase:

"What do you get with free speech and no food?"

"Silence."

Food for thought.

I can't believe I'm still thinking about this after submitting my essays. I may have oversimplified this though, so don't shoot me down for it (especially if you're American!).

Also, if you have the time, go here:

Another day, another time

2008-11-04T14:48:00.000Z

I'm starting to lose count of the days I've been here, and that's good because I'm still loving it here. Trying to get into the rhythm of things still, its kind of tough when people spoke in different accents about things I never knew about. Imagine a two-hour seminar on WTO and the IMF. And then compare the IMF with the World Bank. And then talk about trade unions, multilateral agreements and export tariffs. There you have a very lost Puiyee. Add on that post-structuralism critics on development, plus realist and cosmopolitan views on state relations. Then ponder on why some rights are inherent and inalienable, and how natural rights came to be and how they evolve, according to John Locke, into human rights belonging to all of us which are not to be traded, sold, exchanged or given up. How political and civil rights are more important than social and economic rights, and what kinds of rights and duty one should have for all of humanity. Those are the things I learn about these days. I don't think my days in UTAR prepared me for this. This is really challenging, really something else. Really a good way to appear stupid, and l feel *stupid* most of the time.

Apart from that, life is good, I think. I've traded cheap movies, mamak sessions, close friends and haircuts, and oh, TV, for nights out in pubs, shiatsu lessons and staying in the library. Meeting people I'd never dream of meeting. Some of the feeling of that lack of adventure and opportunity's faded already just by merit of that. Others...

I'm still here seeking some answers to questions I've never solidly formulated in my mind. Strange as it seems, on a couple of long phone calls with a stranger, I get to ask again, and answer again on things that matter in the end. Religion, pursuit of happiness and the notion of success. It is true we're all here to seek our happiness. And not in the traditional sense...I suppose one could use the word fulfilment too. Their life's mission, their calling, doing what that will fill their soul and purpose on Earth. Perhaps this is all a fallacy, that in the end we're all just seeking for love, simple as that. Or perhaps for some people, money is more important, and yet others, its power. Me? I am just looking for somewhere I belong. Doing something I know I will want to spend the rest of my life doing. I'm still looking, evidently.

As for religion, Mr Anonymous asked, if indeed there is God, then why do people pray to different 'Gods' by mere geographical differences. Personally, I think organised religion is just a way for people to feel like they belong to a group. Performing rituals that seemed ridiculous to us but are unquestionable to them gives them that 'specialness' that the rest of the world do not have. Also its a great way to fundraise and abuse powers in the name of God, but that's another story. But I think people want to believe in a greater power, in mother nature, forces of earth, destiny, providence, fate....because they need to have faith. They need an excuse and a reason, something to put their fingers on when something extremely good or bad befall them. And the faith to move on from it. Something to anchor them down, to buoy them and to lift them up. Hence...God. Not everyone believes in a great being booming down on humanity telling them how to believe. Perhaps its a whisper in the wind, shapeless, formless...we all form deeply personal, private thoughts, images and memories of all things, including God. I absolutely loathe people who asked me about my God. That's my personal relationship with powers greater than me. Sometimes, I want to stop when the Mormons here chase after me and tell them that I've gone through shit without needing their God and when life is good now, all the less reason to believe in their beliefs. Not receiving and donating blood? You know what? I believe in karma. Just by donating what I can, I hope someday when I need it, I'll receive too. Faith, again.

I would never dismiss religion as bullshit, just as I'd never dismiss politics as dirty donkey shit. But it is worth a look on why people believe in what they do, unquestionably, on why people leave their beliefs and form new ones, and on why people do not believe in religion to begin with. Did development, modernisation and urbanisation contribute to urban decay? (Do elephants have trunks?) Are people colder, more superficial and realistic? (Is China part of Asia?)

Does it mean we lose faith, join the rat race, be part of that neverending drumbeat to dull concrete fog of life?

Are there still those among us asking and questioning, seeking some answers?

You tell me.

3 weeks and counting

2008-10-28T14:48:00.000Z

Wow. I think today marks the 3rd week I've been here, and it seems like a short time..and a long time all at once.

I learnt a little more about myself and survival on my own - most important lesson of all is that I am okay. For all the worries and paranoia that I am just an empty vessel, I guess some of them's just a little empty noise.

I'm loving this. Being on my own. Having my own schedule, doing what I want, when I want, and on my own time, and terms. Meeting people from all over the world. Laughing, talking, walking, eating...no crying yet.

Take today for example: Ran to the train station to get a railway card cos the internet system doesn't like my passport number then library to return/collect books, sat in on a class, went for a research fellow's interview for his study, quick salad at the student union then to the blood donation drive, then to Marcia's to hang out before dinner, home for dinner then hour long phone call with a to-remain-nameless friend, and I'm supposed to be reading but here I am typing this and chatting...it's a full day, and it feels satisfying and productive.

Opening bank accounts, sorting out housing contracts, sorting out more problematic phone contracts, registering myself with uni, going to classes, being responsible for myself and keeping an eye on budget...this is actually fun. I remember feeling so daunted by the gargantuan task of starting a new life, not knowing anything about everything here, and now I'm slowly etching a place for myself. I enjoy the daily commute, whinging about the bad weather and rain, walking, getting my own groceries, thinking of what to eat when in reality I'm still too lazy to cook in the kitchen, even housekeeping my own room. Did I have problem adjusting? Huge culture shock? Not really. I guess I'm just lucky with that. I do feel a pang of loneliness at times, but easily cured by going to classes and doing some social thing. Meeting people isn't as easy as it *should* be.

But I know long ago that I've been ready to be on my own, that my presence at home had been a pain in everyone's ass. I felt like I was imposing myself. That I was struggling to balance between needing to be independent and living on another person's terms. And I knew, deep down, that I've left home for good. That this is it, the world is here, and I'm going to embrace it and free fall into life.

Sheffield: First week(s)

2008-09-25T15:47:00.000+01:00

Sheffield.

Well today marks my being here for a week, and if I don't start blogging about it, I don't think I ever will. That's actually how lazy I've become about keeping up with my life. I mean, things like starting a budget, filing things, keeping on top of my notes...I was never too adept at it, but now I'm just downright lazy.

The journey here was a long and not-too-exciting one...from KLIA to Singapore Changi International I got stuck next to a Chinese man with smelly, stinky, smelly smelly breath, and a 4-hour layover. I went online, then mucked around a little before bumping into a small group of Malaysian students headed to Manchester on the same flight. The flight wasn't too eventful, and thankfully the centre of our 3-seater row was empty so I had some space to throw myself about. Arrived in Manchester on a gloomy morning where we were gracefully ushered into the Heath Services for what I thought is demmit-health-check-but-my-x-ray-is-in-my-check-in but all the lady did was take down our passport number and details and which university we're headed to. I know. Wtf?

We were greeted by some Sheffield students who were part of the meet-and-greet scheme of the student union, and with a pair of siblings from Cyprus and their mom, we were unceremoniously dumped at Central Quay. The first flatmate I had was Doni, from Suzhou. After settling in, I talked with him, and then he happily took me around to buy my first necessities. We went...everywhere. Castlemarket, TJ Hughes, Sainsbury, 99p store, £1 store, frozen food store, The Moor, Tai Sun, London Road and the Chinese supermarket in The Forge...I think we even dropped by Primark and John Lewis. I was shown where Primark, Argos, banks, phone companies and Boots are, and in truth, his help was immeasurable. In the span of one single afternoon, I was introduced to most of Sheffield city centre.

I even stopped to see the tram stations, St Paul and St John Cathedral, City Hall and the Peace Gardens.

The next day, I was given directions to the University, and I trekked 45 minutes uphill to see Elmfield, which is a beautiful old building where the Politics Department is. I was exhausted by the time I reached the roundabout at the centre of the city campus. My first thought was, no fkin way I am going to walk like this on a daily basis, I wouldn't be able to make it. I trekked back to the city via West Street, and its a lot easier going downhill, and I think I shopped some before coming home to make dinner. It was after dinner that I went and explore parts of where I live in a little, and the back of Central Quay faces River Don, and there were ducks in the river. There's also a small pub/restaurant across the river, and it's quite a quiet place to reflect and walk in. And then I smelled Bak Kut Teh. I remember I grinned. It was 7ish, dinnertime for most of the residents and the smell of cooking was extremely homely and ...I don't know, gives me comfort.

The weather is crazy in this place, sunny two days, then gloomy and windy and cold the next couple, and then sunny again. In Malaysia, no one checks the weather, ever, but I learnt my lesson here. From hereon, before I head out every morning, I'm going to check the weather, even if only to see if it's going to rain a little. Because rain+wind=BAD.

My room faces the city centre, or what I can see of it since it faces uphill, and I can see the cathedrals from here. When the church bells toll, the sound is just absolutely beautiful and soothing. If anything, I'm just slightly unhappy (now coming to terms with it) with the fact that ALL my flatmates are from China. It feels like I flew to the wrong continent, sometimes. There's also some funny things I've noticed here, just small things like the lack of soybean milk (and how much I missed it), how the traffic is just as horrible as Malaysia and that pedestrians are given very little respect (so those chivalrous expat drivers must NOT be English, then!) , jaywalking is perfectly acceptable, how dirty and stinky with pee the city is on Friday and Saturday mornings, how noisy weekend evenings are with the crazy partying, and some jarring drunk racist shoutings from a Brit girl. Queues in this place are horrible, it feels like they're helpful, but ultimately inefficient and slow. I got long queues everywhere, from paying the bus driver to supermarkets to banks to the horrible reception in Central Quay and at the city. Its something I definitely need to get used to. But shopping is great here, I needed a coat so I walked to H&M and saw all these colourful hoodies and I already started to finger them before I halted myself. I was definitely losing the plot and I had to remind myself I don't have that much to spend.

I've had some department introduction meetings, and have met quite a few of my future classmates, and some had been great. A Chilean woman named Marcia and another from Beijing and I went bank shopping (for us), phone shopping (for Marcia) and coat shopping (for me). Yesterday we were at a graduates intro meeting and I met Joe, a Spanish who learnt to speak basic Chinese right here in Europe and Eva, a molecular medicine grad student from Kunming, and we spent the rest of the day chatting in English and Chinese about politics and England and China until dinnertime, where a huge group of graduate students met and went for dinner in 3 different pubs (because not a single place here can fit all of us).

I can see already this isn't going to be an easy year, even before my first class we've got a huge load of reading for the various modules we're interested in, but well...I hope I'm ready to take it all on. Sometimes, I've got my doubts, it feels like maybe I've bitten off more than I could chew.

I'm going to make the most out of the year though. It'll be amazing, for better or worst. I hope.

NO to BN

2008-09-12T15:45:00.000+01:00

Reform is now inevitable, irreversible and hopefully imminent. TDM may go back to UMNO and support someone to beat Badawi at the coming UMNO elections, but this will not satisfy the thirst for change in Malaysia by all races. UMNO is beyond redemption, and the only way forward to rescue Malaysia is to replace the gangrened heart of power and replace it with a new entity called Pakatan. -Hiro

Beautifully written.

A comment on Mahathir's delusional comment @ http://mt.m2day.org/2008/content/view/12569/84/

Whether PR works or not...change must come. This cannot go on. This is not democracy. This is not what Malaysia stands for.

Enough lah

2008-09-08T20:22:00.001+01:00

Okay, my knowledge of Malaysian politics isn't any more superior than the next person in the room. I am probably quite apathetic and a little outdated at times. I do not know the faces of our politicians, I do not know who's who in the leadership...I wasn't even sure who or how powerful the guy who presented me with my degree was.

But then, I read a piece of news on Malaysiakini, and tears sprung out. I felt despair more than anger at how things have gone this far in Malaysia. My premise is simple. I am a person born in Malaysia to persons born in Malaysia, whose parents were born in Malaysia. Malaysia x3 makes me pretty damn well Malaysian. To me, this is home. Even though I am Chinese by heritage, I do not identify with China. It is just a mystical land on the map where so many people of my skin colour, culture and language left and found homes elsewhere. The Chinese diaspora is well-known. Some of my mother's family sailed to America, some ended up closer to home in Hong Kong. And then my great-grandparents inadvertently arrived here. Diaspora - it is translated from Greek to mean 'the scattering or sowing of seeds'. And I am one of the plants sprung from these seeds - sheltered, nurtured and conditioned by my new environment, thus every minute change in this environment will affect the seedlings.

"Remember! The patience of Malays and Muslims has its limits. Do not push us to the wall, where we will be forced to reject the Chinese for the sake of our survival" - Ahmad Ismail

Statements like that creates fear in me. He wins. I am scared. On most days, knowing my Malay friends and people I meet from day-to-day life, I know without a doubt Malays will lay down their lives to defend us, their fellow Malaysians. I know, I have heard it being expressed sincerely, that while we are not colour-blind, because in truth we are *NOT*, many would ignore that fact, choosing only to see the ultimate truth, that we're all in this together, we're all Malaysians. Selective truth is a truly wonderful - or terrible - human trait. But on days like this, it makes it so hard for me to remember that. I'm already wary of walking the streets of KL filled with immigrants (legal status unknown) trying to ike out better lives here, and now I am weary in the comforts of my own home. We just wanted to feel safe, to know we are safe at home. Home.

We are ALL trying to survive in very trying times. I don't see the point of pushing one community off the ledge to benefit the other. Working in tandem - united we stand, remember? - would do a world of good for Malaysians.

Plus, in the biggest of ironies, to me, that statement is bluntly seditious. According to our draconian ISA laws, he deserve a penthouse in Hotel ISA. So why is he sleeping soundly in his own bed tonight? Whom or where do I seek reassurance and security in being Malaysian tonight? Although I shouldn't question it, but would my faith and loyalty pay off in the end, or is it all in vain?

You know, my ancestors boarded ships to this land for a better life for themselves and their descendants - us - and their backbreaking labour and hardship made us what we are today. I have pride in being part of this heritage, that much is true. The seeds they scattered are all grown up now, coloured and shaped by this environment for generations, so I beg you, please see us as fellow Malaysians and not immigrants or squatters, because this is my only home. It's not like we are here illegally or do not give back to the country. Skeptical as I am, scoff as I do at pathetic attempts of patriotic songs or superficial show of 'colourful Malaysia', this is home.

Is it so awfully wrong that we ask for equality and recognition? To have our colours mocked and pleas thrown back into our faces is a huge let down.

Aku anak Malaysia. I grow up learning to embody that spirit, will continue to, and always will.

I am Malaysian, for better for worst. I just hope soon it'll be easier to love, honour and cherish my country.

Attachment

2008-05-08T06:47:00.005+01:00

Time: 04:10

Aaaah. Its nearer to morning than night now, and I'm just finished with a few episodes of Grey's Anatomy. And whadyaknow, I feel loads better!

I wrote one miserable missive this afternoon, but I think I'm scratching that and writing something else right now, if I can manage without dozing off.

This afternoon, I said I'm moping. I'm hating myself for this, but I'm moping.

Well, that's going to stop. But I guess I could pinpoint that to two things, really: The panic I felt over my last paper, and the weight of realisation crashing down.

I guess that's because I finished so much earlier than everyone else, and it was about the first time I sat there for half an hour doubting myself while everyone else is scribbling away that sets me off. That half hour wait outside the hall didn't help either. But I am letting go.

All the symbolic acts are there - the handing in of the hard bound copy of my thesis to the office and watching it stamped...effectively transferring ownership to the university; a farewell dinner and hundreds of photos...

But also, it felt like I've said my farewells long ago. That what's left of me and Uni is just the packing and finishing up. I know for a fact I won't miss that place. That I've left before I physically could. But what I did not see was how it provided a crutch for me, knowing I know how to do well in there, and now I don't have that.

There's always a fear that I'm secretly a failure. To this day, I still wonder what, if any, is there I'm actually good at. That I could do for a living, to sustain myself, and that it will provide meaning to me, and to the world. How what I do will actually matter. It feels like I want to do bigger things, but right now, I feel like I'm as mediocre as mediocre goes. What am I cut out to be?

I don't know.

This self-searching begun years ago, hasn't ended, nowhere near to answers, and I'm making peace with that. Perhaps it'll be a lifelong search, but I think I'm going to be okay with it. That I can always question myself and change whenever it's needed. That's survival, right?

Thoughts of days long past, of certainty sometimes find its unwelcome presence in my mind. I was thinking that, once, I knew how to handle being myself, I knew how it's like to be single, I knew what it's like to be fat, I knew how it's like to be a student, I knew how it's like to just be me. All the self-esteem, self-image issues, all the struggles and fights...but they are not here anymore for me to hide behind.

I've changed. Some of the changes are by my own hands, true. But mostly circumstantial. I'd like to think I've learnt a lot from this past one year, the final year of university. That I will be able to handle this new me, hopefully with more grace. Always the klutz that I am, though.

It's funny isn't it? All these changes? I'm going through cognitive dissonance. This new ...situation is something I'm not used to. And I've never really thought about it because, well, I've just pushed them aside and dealt with it minutely...and I'm suddenly looking at the big picture.

You know what, I really don't know myself anymore. And who is this "myself"? Me?

Because right at this point, I can't say I'm fat. That I have self-esteem or -image issues because demmit I don't anymore...can't say I'm single and actually meant it, and perhaps the biggest of them all, that I can't say I'm a student. So yes, I'm having a hard time adjusting here.

Well, hi, identity crisis.

Am I contradicting myself? Am I rambling? Maybe I am. This is one of those I'm-on-my-own moments though.

This bites me right in my own ass, I gave someone that recently, that we don't have to do this alone. I've got people I know, love and trust...and I've tried, and tried their patience. I guess I never really believed that anyone else may be willing to be my crying shoulder. I've learnt to put my guards up. Sometimes, I wonder, why change that? Why allow myself to be vulnerable? I've been on my own all this while, and I'm doing okay...why change, except, is that enough anymore? I want more, but I'm scared. Am I trying to detach? Do I still carry that old I-don't-deserve-love thing in me? Dear God I hope not.

Okay, definitely rambling. Am I posting this? Am I?

Random

2008-05-01T19:03:00.003+01:00

Time: 02:04

So I'm sitting here in the middle of the night playing sad songs from my music list and wondering why the hell am I up and doing this.

Few hours ago I was jittery and sort of in a hyper-mood so yes, this is the unfortunate unwinding. I don't even know why I'm blogging except there's no one around to talk with and I'm feeling a little lonely and vulnerable and typing this will provide relief and perspective, I hope.

Just thinking about family. Truth be told, I've never really gave those much thought...I've got my own little dysfunctional family unit and it works to our advantage (dad not around meaning no one over-protective, overbearing and paranoid to nag, control and curtail me) and I've always got my mom's parents and siblings as extended family, and feel secure in knowing most of them live 5 minutes away and that they will be here in a heartbeat should I holler.

But then now I wonder if that's enough. In truth, I've got all these cousins, aunts and uncles I haven't seen or talked with for over 10 years, I'm not sure I'll recognise my cousins anymore if we ever bump into each other in the streets and I'm sort of okay with that. But am I okay or have I just never gave it a thought?

I felt inclined to blame it on the fact that our elders did not put in an effort to maintain contact. Sometimes it felt like I've been divorced from my dad's family too. Estranged is the correct term, really. Like how my mom never encouraged us to send postcards, and how I know their parents didn't bother, either. It helped only 2 families lived in Kuala Lumpur, the rest of them are in either Johor, or Singapore. Sometimes, whenever I'm in Singapore, I almost willed myself into bumping into some of them just for the sake of them looking at me and knowing I've come pretty far from the awkward teenager they knew me as. But I've never considered calling them. Or wanted to.

And now I'm feeling a little sad over that loss of these people, my flesh and blood, for better or worst. We share the same surname, the same grandparents, but we may as well be strangers. It's a weird feeling. I think I've wrote about this some time ago, and that sadness never changed. Do I want to do something about it? Do we have to wait for funerals for a reunion (knowing that's the total end of the fragile link between all of us)? I don't know. I'm helpless.

I guess I should be moving on with life, finding my own ties, kindred spirits, soulmates and my own family in this world of six billion people. Life ebb and flow.

Bloody hell, I don't like how I'm feeling at the moment. This better be PMS or something.

Lost

2008-04-15T19:59:00.004+01:00

Time: 02:59

I'm truly at a crossroads right now...and it's choosing between potential love and potential self-development.

My question is, where do I go from here.

I'm not rushing into any rash decisions, but this is one of the rarest few moments I wish I have a mystical revelation, a sign telling me where should I go, what should I do.

Finally there's true possibilities, and I'm not comforted.

If I choose the love, I'm going to a place where I won't even be in my element. Where my choices as a Malaysian/Asian will be truly limited by, ironically, my (in)ability to speak, read and write Chinese. Where jobs may be hard to come by and it will be a struggle. But I may have found someone I could love. And I could do my master's in near future anyway.

If I choose the self-development, I have my misgivings...I'm burnt out by school and not sure if I'm ready for another dissertation in a few months. I'd have to start over the process of sussing out guys. But my entire year will be supported. And I may be able to develop my full potential.

It is somehow comforting to know that if things are meant to be, it will be, but I guess I want it, and I want it now.

I can't drag him into this...it should be my decision. But I need to know.

I fear his answer. I fear he does not want this as much as I do. I fear that it is a case of one-sided thoughts.

I fear he will want to let me go.

My forgivable aspects

2008-03-27T16:03:00.003Z

Time: 00:11

Now that we're on the verge of leaving home...will it ever be the same when we return?

Mull over that. I cried the first time I watch it.

Gianne wrote a while back about the concept of forgivable aspects. To paraphrase her, it is a concept where....people still stick to certain sort of people, no matter how fucked up they are.
A little like "he ain't heavy, he's my brother"...like a person may be a fucktard but he's got friends because he's generous, loyal and a good entertainer...or she may be the biggest bitch in the world but you won't find a more honest person, either...and those are the qualities that still draw people to people. That there are 'forgivable' qualities about you that no matter how exasperating you've been, people still forgive you because of them.

Here's what Gianne left for me:

your forgivable aspects?

1) i love how much you are able to feel, and your capacity to love.

2) i love the way your mind works. sometimes i'm a little afraid of your depth because i might get get lost or drown in it. (can i dissect your brainnnn????)

(in short, you're a person of great substance ;P)

3) you bring yourself so well when articulating your ideas and opinions; it's like i can feel the clouds parting and light shining through wtf

4) you... challenge me to be a better person =).

5) you're funny and quick and interesting and a supremely wonderful friend (pretty much everything, short of a worship altar XD)

6) you're like fried tofu wtf. from outside you're a strong person, and at the same time, you're vulnerable ... it's something that i find endearing.

7) okay, this is so superficial but you're Miss Vavavoom!!! lesbian lovers insist!!

(please take this list out and slap yourself with it in the case of low self-esteem okay wtf)

Thank you, Gianne. I'm not sure if I live up to all you say, but indeed if that's what you think of me...I could live in peace with knowing I've done alright and will strive to do so continuously. So if I ever screw up, please screw me over.

What do the rest of you think?

A bit o'progress

2008-03-22T18:00:00.004Z

Time: 02:00

I'm happily reporting that I've done the content analysis, for most part. I sat myself down yesterday evening and since 3pm today, and started what I should've done weeks ago. I think all in all I spent over 10 hours staring at articles and trying to determine their slants and angles and counting paragraphs, and my eyes literally glazed over. Nonetheless...only pie charts and graphs, and honest writing to do now. Will submit the first draft soon, and then spend the next couple weeks writing and amending my final draft. My bum is numb, and my days here are numbered.

I'm counting down, winding up, tightening loose ends.
Yesh, I can smell freedom. It's so near, beckoning to me.

It is at times like this I must remember why I picked content analysis, this particular topic, my purpose of studying, my commitment and my goals. And I must dream a little of the victory that could be mine if I fight hard enough for it. I know I always play down things, because there's this innate fear that I will not live up to the mark, and perhaps I fear disappointing myself beyond anything. Afterall, it seems like I can never get what I want the way I want it. But I gotta start to believe and hope.

Joy comes to my life in quiet, unexpected ways. Sometimes they are such small things, they seem insignificant. But even a smile can make someone's day, so, why not. Being open to realms of possibilities...even to places I've never thought of going or people I've never thought of meeting...that's exciting and fun to think of. Then again, reality hits and I wonder if I'm reading too much into things. Best to keep a distance and not plunge in blindly. Right?

But I'm still a little behind in my work, and some leaps and obstacles more from being finished (Read: A LOT MORE WORK TO DO!). The FYP, my law assignment, and my pain-in-the-ass-what-a-drag-no-one-wants-to-do-it IMC assignment. Not to mention 4 more papers to sit for. But small steps to the big finalé. Just a few things on the to-do before I can hit the road for the Next Step.

Consider this a pep talk for myself. And back to the grind! (Tomorrow, that is)

Procrastinator's Note

2008-03-17T15:54:00.006Z

Time: 23:54

Again, I'm here purely because I'm procrastinating. I'm due to start on my FYP Chapter 4...more than a week ago, and it's still in its glorious existence only in my head. I need a huge proverbial kick in my ass so that I start doing something very soon.

The journey is about to end. Who'd know? I still remember so clearly that very first day in university. I guess you could say if I could change things, I'd go back to that morning in Chinese class, and whisper to the naive and arrogant girl, to warn her of 3 rocky years ahead full of tears, joy, loss, adventure, lessons, loneliness... and that it will end unexpectedly. That maybe she'd wanna do a 180 and run the hell out of that place. That all the mistakes are not just her own, but that her hands will be dirtied.

I guess there's no shame in confessing I want a do-over. Some other place, some other time. Did university break my spirit? I don't know. I don't. What I know is this. It changed me, polluted the way I see the world. Those changes are big and small. Abstaining from meat, losing weight, finding and losing love, learning how to keep my mouth shut, learning about trust and betrayal, growing up...yeah. Maybe the changes are for the better, that a dose of reality and cynicism was what I needed. I haven't found what I wanted out of it, and I'm still searching. Perhaps life wants me to digress here to learn a lesson. I'm trying to make the best of it. My writing suffered, my passion waned. My next big journey in life will be to reunite with my hopes, ambition and passion once again. That much I promise myself.

And I guess this is where I'll break down and confess to all who've asked me if I'm lonely. I've always told them I'm alone, but rarely lonely, because I'm insulated by the love and support from those who cared. But these past days, the loneliness I've banished is creeping in again, enveloping me with its cold, dark embrace. And I succumbed. I want nothing more than to break down and crumble, but I can't let myself. I need to be strong in my convictions, in my principles and in my own self, because that's all that's left. As much as I'd like to, I feel it's no longer fair to burden others with it. I despair they will be bored and frustrated with me and my constant neediness. I fear I'm getting caught up in myself, my feelings, my emotions and my stubbornness that I neglect others.

I know in the bigger scheme of things whatever it is I'm going through isn't all that big a deal, but again, it is because I'm going through this right now that makes it especially hard to keep my chin up. All the advice and empathy I received comfort me, and I will always be grateful to those who did so for me. But I know I stand alone in this.

I do not know who stalks me (and maybe no one does, and it's all in my head), but as I try not to use another's words as a weapon against them personally, I expect, because of the law of karma, that mine will not be used against me. We all are vulnerable, and I'd like to know I can let myself be once again, without fear. If its true I've been a lousy person and friend, and that I really don't deserve anymore attention, then leave me be. I've made my amends and compromises, and had what I deserved returned to me multi folds and enough is enough. I've reached my breaking point and forgiveness is no longer one-sided now.

I'm sticking to my guns.

I'm also stealing a quote from Amelia (and Chris)'s blog:

"Remember to be gentle with yourself and others. We are all children of chance and none can say why some fields will blossom while others lay brown beneath the August sun. Care for those around you. Look past your differences. Their dreams are no less than yours, their choices no more easily made. And give, give in any way you can, of whatever you possess. To give is to love. To withhold is to wither. Care less for your harvest than for how it is shared and your life will have meaning and your heart will have peace." - Kent Nerburn

As I eat my humble pie, I try to mend my prideful ways and learn to treat others better, and to be less harsh on myself and others. But it will take all my faith and strength, but I'm trying, right?

Winds of changes

2008-03-10T18:39:00.001Z

Time: 02:39

The 12th elections' over, and the dust is settling. It set a precedence for me in more ways than one: I voted, and I was out of the country when the results were announced. I was scrambling to look for a computer with Internet, cursing and regretting my decision to go to Singapore anyway, despite being alone and having to risk long waits at the customs thanks to a particular Mas Salamat who escaped Singapore prison by going to the bathroom, just like a movie ploy. My mom with good intentions did not allow me to return to KL Sunday evening, but looking at the lack of "excitement", I returned anyway rather than being stranded in Singapore. We, the rakyat, are mature enough to accept changes and that gave me a huge measure of relief.

I was greeted with shock more than anything in finding out four states in Malaysia now belongs to the Opposition, or the Barisan Rakyat. Joining them, of course, is Kelantan, and also FT Kuala Lumpur. I don’t think anyone saw that coming. I certainly didn’t even have faith that we can even deny them the 2/3 majority.

But it happened.

We, the rakyat, went beyond that, and then some.

That proves it all.

It proves how dissatisfied we were with the government, it proves we are now enlightened, we are empowered to not fear changes anymore, and we are equipped with knowledge and the Internet to know better than to trust traditional media bullied into submission by our (Mis)Information Ministry. That we are allowed to exploit cyberspace was a blessing I credit to the BN government. I also have no doubt whatsoever that without the rigging going on with certain leaders of the Barisan Nasional, the BR sweep will be higher. It proved that the youth of the nation, despite being banned from politics as students or indoctrinated with BN ideas and manifesto, are going through an awakening and awareness slowly, but surely. And we’re starting to give a damn about it too.

Analysts feared this elections will be the dirtiest yet, and that fact didn't daunt the BR voters: Generally, people are cynical that change will come at all, but the best part of all, they voted anyway. Even with the riggings and all sorts of stories from the ballot countings, the BR came through.

At moments like this, as I explained Malaysian politics, democracy and voting to some Singaporeans, I felt pride about where I came from. I felt proud to be part of the changes, to play a part in it, and to witness history in the making.

Going to Anwar's Lembah Pantai ceramah allowed me to meet thousands of Malays, and if the NEP really benefited them, and if they are really as comfortable and protected as the government claimed them to be, why are they there? And why, despite the racial cards played by BN, were they so friendly to us? They talked to us, they allowed me to stand in their spots to see better, they yelled for Makkal Sakthi, and they shared their views and smiles. They reminded me we are all Malaysians first, and race a distant second.

Now the BR has their work cut out for them. They made promises, and they'd better deliver, because as much as I have misgivings for some of their front runners, they may be better than their BN counterparts. They have to be. They're our hopes now, considering some goons in the BN are arrogant enough to point fingers instead of looking inside themselves to study what went wrong. Even as voices from all sides of the country tried whispering, then yelling, about their mistakes and abuse. Even at this time, some are still not sorry, and I’m afraid will never be.

At least this time we see bloggers, human rights lawyers, educated fresh blood and younger politicians voted in. The change today is long-coming, long-awaited and long-needed for. This is more than winds of changes, this is typhoon Rakyat.

Quoting about what I learnt in Social Contract, I will not sell my freedom for more promises and lies. We give up certain rights to earn the right to live in an orderly, equal society; and when I deliver my part of the bargain, I expect it to be reciprocated, or else.

So, if the BR deliver, they will then see to it that the wheels are turned and BN turned opposition in the next elections. Otherwise, we're back at square one, and then, and only then, will I know there will be little left for me to want or hope as a Malaysian.

Meaning

2008-02-26T19:30:00.003Z

Time: 03:30

I'm actually beyond exhausted. In fact I feel lightheaded. It seemed like a permanent thing now, and I credit that to the lack of sleep. I feel cold too. It seemed so constant that I go everywhere with a jumper now.

But there are thoughts that filled my mind and they make me anxious, depressed and emo. As of lately, I've reconsidered some of my thought processes and perception. It's wrong to say I'm unhappy; rather, there are causes to that unhappiness and I have no one to blame except myself, and unless I'm exposed to these causes, I'm really actually fine.

But I reiterate. I felt lost and that life is mediocre. Perhaps what someone told me is true: that I am seeking a meaning. To my own existence, to my life, to my relationship with people, a meaning to my very being. I've had the chance to think again, to dig up old Ethics note and ramble on about Rawls and his Natural State. To talk about Kant and Categorical Imperative, and I thrived. I've had that awful realisation at the beginning of this semester that I don't read enough. If I compare my knowledge to a Poli-Sci student from say UK or US, I'd crawl into a hole in shame. I crave knowledge, and the more I learn, the more I realise how much I really do not know.

I can't be intense all the time, to debate or think. It's mentally draining. (I'm vain! I like clothes! And Grey's Anatomy! And Josh Duhamel is soooo hot!) But I liked to throw thoughts back and forth. It makes me feel alive, heard. I know I lack that sort of interaction unless I'm with a certain group of friends. And with Dr Carmen's Critical Thinking Circle, I've found a new venue for that.

Lately, it struck me that perhaps I went to university too early. I was naivé and trusting, arrogant and judgmental. I had my yardstick, and I compared everything to my strict, self-perceived logic. And I was uncompromising. Betrayal upon betrayal hurt me. I feel insecure and vulnerable, and that racked me with self-doubt. I was a wreck. My daily interactions were shaped by fear and suspicion. And now after learning this much about myself, I feel that I've matured a little bit more. And I felt that I've moved just a little further. That I've outgrown the pace I'm in now. I'm ready to move onto the next level. Hopefully as a better person than I was. And I accept that I'll always be different, and I'll always be in the minority. I feel alone but not lonely. In this walk, I'm not solitary, there will be lone walkers, just like me.

Yes. I'm growing up. And out.

Just Chaaaaaaange...for Malaysia

2008-02-26T19:09:00.005Z

Time: 03:09

First off:

The first 20 times I played that, I laughed too. But it's SNARKY. And cheesy. It sticks to your brain like a parasite, replaying "just chaaaaaange...for Malaysiaaaaa" over and over.

Compare that to this:

Personally, I feel like throwing up. It's like an overdose of Petronas ad. That, with the fact that I've watched Fahmi Reza's 10 Tahun Sebelum Merdeka, and the I *heart* Pak Lah fan club photo so prominently displayed on last Sunday's Sunday Star, I've hit a breaking point. A stunned moment of clarity that perhaps I've been lied to more than I've realised. I'm not quite eloquent at 3am in the morning, but do this people really sit and think of 25 million people as their personal experiment? That everything that had happened was part of their design, and we all fall into place neatly like an intricate mosaic or a complex jigsaw puzzle?

But did some pieces go missing? Perhaps they miscalculated, misstepped. I'd like to think of Pak Lah's (un)announcement of the dissolution of the government and his changing of mind mere 24 hours a huge political mistake. It costs him, for sure. People call him a liar. Even I, a mere undiplomatic citizen, would say something along the lines of "Well, you know there are rumours of elections coming, so, anything can be expected. Let's wait and see, shall we?" Seriously, he should just invite his PR guy into Kamunting. I'd have him hanged and quartered, personally. Also, what kind of PM need to clarify that he "worked hard"?

And what kind of PM do not accept there are unhappy people under his governance?

This is a proof that alternative truths prevail:

Call me ungrateful, but I think I'm finally awakening from the 11 years of free education I've received. Time has come for me (after 21 years) to choose who I want as my government. You'll be sure I will think very hard.

POWER TO DEMOCRACY!

To friendship

2008-02-11T18:05:00.000Z

Time: 02:06

Before I go onto the actual intention of this entry, I have to vent:

On the first day of Chinese New Year, my mom decided not to cook, so we went over to KIP next to Kepong Carrefour for some Korean food. We were led upstairs where the entire seating was on a raised platform (sorta like a Japanese restaurant) and customers sit on the floor with a hole underneath the tables for leg space. Anyway, I guess the wooden platform was a novelty for a huge family seated behind us because this boy of 8-9 years old was running the entire length of the restaurant to and fro, to and fro. It was not only annoying the rest of the customers, it was HIGHLY hazardous because the servers were carrying pots full of lit charcoal for the Korean BBQ table to table. Said boy nearly collided with a waiter carrying a huge stone pot of boiling spicy soup. For a moment, I had a graphic picture of his face if the soup landed right on his head. Edible face meat.

As if that wasn't enough, his father was smoking in the air conditioned room to the discomfort of everyone else trying to enjoy the actual taste of their food, and then the boy led his sister of about 3 years old to the first floor window and opened it. A waiter rushed to slam the window shut before girl plunged down. The best part? No one reprimanded the boy. The family ate as if nothing happened.

If I was mommy, the boy would be walloped on the spot before being tied down and gagged. But that's why I'm not mommy.

Anyway.

I've had a sudden urge to express my cheesiness and my appreciation towards people who've been my friends for years. I cannot thank them enough for being there for me, for loving me unconditionally, and for every laughter and tears we shared, for the camwhoring, for the fitting room pics, for the joy, experience and life lessons. They shaped me into part of who I am, and without them, my life would be that much less meaningful. So, here's to you guys :D

CNY post

2008-02-08T17:09:00.000Z

Time: 01:10

A very Happy Chinese New Year.

In order to keep my resolution alive (and avoid writing my thesis for a bit), and not to renege on my word on blogging more often, I've even whipped out my dusty thesaurus and started looking for my first word: back out (renege).

It's true when you haven't been writing for a while, all that's left is a vocabulary fit for daily conversation and acceptably passable assignment write-ups. So I've been reading a little bit more (American Girls About Town with my absolute fav contemporary American female writer Jennifer Weiner) and at the process of finishing another autobiography about social work and the political atmosphere in Iran early last century. Written by Sattareh Farman Farmaian with Dona Munker, Daughter of Persia's a rather interesting read, focusing on how a woman born in the woman's quarters (or harem, as they say in the book) wanted more than a life of arranged marriage and children and became the first Iraqi female to study in UCLA, worked for the UN and returned to Iran to contribute to social work there.

That made me think of where I am today, and an immense sense of gratitude comes to me. The news that there's a huge possibility I'm leaving end of this year had spread like a wildfire and relatives I don't talk with are wishing me well and urging me to go, go, go. Just a generation or two ago, (my mom and grandma) females are limited in their choices about their education and life, but I've got all that I want and then some. I may get cold feet about picking up and starting over now and then, but I can't wait either, to be honest.

Onto happier times, here's some photos from Chinese New Year:

Grandma making magic with her wok and wand

Um..some kind of shellfish with asparagus

Piping hot and wanting to be eaten

The pre-requisite chicken with onion and soy sauce in oil dip

"Fatt choy hou see" think that's what it's called... "Fortune and Good Things"

This is my favourite thing...fried dumplings, and I can put away quite a few of those.

Captured the feast a split second before I sat down and completely forget to snap pics. It sucks to know I take such crappy photos (angles, lightings, taste and eye for it) but that's all I have.

Passionfruit from granduncle's garden..that's a fruit for thought indeed. Never knew they can grow in our climate.

The after-dinner gossip session. Grandma's telling everyone to look at my aunt's recent wedding photos (again). I think she's really, really proud.

My mom and the rest of the families have a tradition of exchanging gifts (mostly cookies, nuts, candies and dried mushrooms) and these are the lined up goodies.

Top view

Aunt Elaine, Grandpa, Aunt Joanne and Khai Syuen

Grandma

Almost adorably irresistably cute. Almost.

Whadyacallthis? It's called "Fire flower" both in Chinese and Malay, but beats me what it's called in English.

And then there's (half of) me! Yeah, in QIPAO! That's a first!

Ten kinds of feelings crept over me as I consider that this may be my last Chinese New Year with the family for the next few years at least...but onwards, right? Afterall, nothing's confirmed anyway.

Much love to all of you, and have a good year.

The silence reigns

2008-02-06T06:08:00.000Z

Time: 14:09

It's so weird. I know it's been like that for a while now. I've been like that. I've just completely stopped talking about my life, or write much about it. I haven't written anything proper or random since forever. My last pictures were from Bangkok, and that was last May. How can this be?

I'm inclined to blame Facebook. Afterall, why bother with Photobucket when Facebook uploads much faster, and friendlier?

But I guess that's not really an excuse for not writing. My thesis is still hanging. I've slacked. Let myself fall into the gutter of complacency and mediocrity. I fear so much of stumbling and falling at the finishing line, but I've lost the will to pick things up where I drop them.

What on earth has (have?) happened to me?

I guess it's really cos I don't think there's a lot of interesting things to put here. Sure, little incidents are worth etching into my memory as being memorably memorable, but they're all regular things, you know? Things that I'm not sure people who reads my blog will be interested in. I don't remember days and dates, names, places and incidents anymore.

I realise that lately I've started to internalise my feelings, which is something new. Everyone who knows Puiyee, knows she's got a big mouth and an inability to keep things to herself. I guess this is a worthy lesson: to shut up and speak no evil. I see the horror of watching my words and intentions twisted and changed, and there's nothing I can do to rectify it. I'm not innocent; I've spoken. How they're interpreted, is beyond my control. As a writer, I should've realised that. That is my mistake, and mine alone.

Time to grow up some more.

In some ways, I feel genuinely happy about my life; afterall, there is nothing wrong in the surface. At all. My studies are going and I'm finishing soon (to my relief), I've got my best friends and comforts of home, good food, clothes and family. But I'm surprised people kept telling me, I seem to be really dissatisfied. That I want more, but more of what? Its like I haven't really lived, and I can see why: I'm still holed up in my city, inside the embrace of family and childhood friends and my routine, in short, nothing outside my comfort zone. I feel like I'm struggling to get out there, but I haven't found the key yet.

Of course, in other ways, I am dead unhappy. Downright depressed. Like sitting alone in the middle of the night talking to random strangers listening to music and thinking random thoughts kind of unhappy. I've got no direction in life whatsoever. I'm not sure I want to be a journalist, and that felt like a kind of betrayal to my convictions. I'm not sure I have what it takes to be a good journalist. Or anything else for that matter. I wish I can see a direction. I'm going to be 22 and I feel like a lost kid sometimes. I took a lot of interest in politics lately, and that is revelation in itself. Maybe I'll be writing on more of that soon.

On another matter altogether, I damn taubat already about the need for a guy. At this moment, I know I'm not really looking for anyone, or for love. Sure, I wouldn't say no to whatever comes my way, be it random dates or a flirt or chatting online or at a table wherever, but trust is an issue now. And yes, I won't settle for anything less than what felt "right", because I've had experienced that headiness, the excitement, the wonder of liking someone creep over me. That want to look into his eyes and stare at their wonderful depth forever, the desire to know his thoughts and learn about him slowly, relishing on every new fact. And if I have a certain preference for a certain kind of guys, so be it, I think. I'll find him, wherever he is.

Oh, and last night I did a thing that's a wee bit spontaneous. I spoke to an American guy who happened to be in town, invited him for coffee, took Amelia with me, and ended up taking him and his friend on a terror ride on my brother's Myvi to Ming Tien in PJ for some local food and then to a nearby mamak to impress them with some teh tarik skills. I've had an amazingly fun time, and I hope they did, too. It reminded me of why I like to meet random travelers when I backpacked, and yeah, I should do more things like that. It was also amusing to look at the rear view mirror to see two very tall guys folded into my car. And it makes me really, really happy and proud to see them enjoying my city, my food, my culture. It was great. Yeah. How do YOU pronounce Malaysia?

Malay-zhuh or Malay-sya? Personally, I use them interchangeably.

Well, til my next post at I-really-don't-know-when, Malaysia Boleh!

Clichés

2008-01-13T13:24:00.000Z

Time: 21:25

As we grow up, we learn that even the one person that wasn't supposed to ever let you down probably will.

You will have your heart broken probably more than once and it's harder every time.

You'll break hearts too, so remember how it felt when yours was broken.

You'll fight with your best friend.

You'll blame a new love for things an old one did.

You'll cry because time is passing too fast, and you'll eventually lose someone you love.

So take too many pictures, laugh too much, and love like you've never been hurt because every sixty seconds you spend upset is a minute of happiness you'll never get back.

Don't be afraid that your life will end, be afraid that it will never begin!

*******************************************************************************

I guess it's all true.

And that I have to be able to love, like I've never been hurt before, and stop blaming a new love for things the old one did. Now...how do I do that is the question.

Another lesson forward

2007-12-21T15:48:00.000Z

Time: 23:49

2007 has been eventful.
If I am to start listing it out...
It will be a long, long blog, plus well, I'm lazy and am stingy with my thoughts now.

To cut a long story short, it's the year I lost close to 20kg; the year I had a fallout with my collegemates, and didn't bother to pick it up; the year I found love, and yes, lost it too.

Eight months... it's not such a long time, but I guess it's not fair to measure time against feelings. It was sweet. I felt loved, right til the end, the ultimate betrayal. I blamed myself; why was I such a fool, why did I let the wall I've built crumble down, why did I go too deep when I've told myself not to, that it may well end before it begun. I did.

I told myself I was such a fool, over and over, til someone said, "No, you're being human." I micro-analysed, I went through every possible detail for signs. He was so good, he let on nothing. Either that I was so blinded. But I wouldn't change a thing. Because I still believed he is a good person, who made a very selfish decision.

I learnt a lot. About the person I am, and can be. I am a taker, a selfish, mean, inconsiderate person. Yet, I never knew I had such a capacity to give, and to love. I eschewed status, physical contact, security and held back from making demands, because I know he would've provided them if he had the ability to. He gave me a sense of being wanted and loved, a bolster against all the guys out there who didn't want me as a fat chick. It didn't matter what other people think; I have someone who loved me.

And then I lost that. I was hurt, and confused. I sobbed. Was I not good enough, could there be things I didn't do that I could have, is there something wrong with me. To my chagrin, I sold my pride and gave up my ego. I chased after an answer, hell bent on an explanation, a reason for me to cry to. A security blanket have been lifted up from me prematurely; I didn't know how to face myself, how to face the cold world and to go back to society as the new me. I know now why people in love resort to desperate measure to go after what they wanted. Love is dangerous, but the only way to experience it is to give freely.

I talked to everyone, sometimes saying things out of anger and sadness. And then the question came, "Was it worth all the pain in the end?"

One guy built me up, tore me down. Single-handedly. It still feel so raw, the wounds so fresh, but I smiled. Yeah. Yes, I wouldn't have changed that. The only regret I have is all those empty promises. The promise never to hurt me intentionally. The promise to be honest. The promise to be there. The promise of him. Once in a while, I hope he feel rotten and lousy for what he did. But maybe one day I may be able to tell him it's been one hell of a ride.

Oh well, it doesn't matter anymore. Whether I want to or not, I will learn to walk forward again.

We had a reunion dinner of sorts, and I told someone the conversation will revolve around weight and looks. That the skinny girls will start beating themselves up saying "I'm fat, I need to lose weight". And I was right, as usual. This time, I felt contempt. Their eyeballing me don't make me feel good; it was shallow, hollow and meaningless. I've truly learnt the lesson that the body doesn't make the person. I am who I am. I know now there are men out there who will accept me as I am, and possibly make me happy.

There's a funny quote I saw: If you can't handle me at worst, you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best.

To be honest, I'm alternating between feeling okay, and feeling sad and alone. But never lonely, because I know I am loved. I have friends, and I can't begin to express my gratitude to them for coming through for me, even across the world. It will take time, but the wounds will heal. Maybe I'm still stinging, but it will take a while for me before I start trusting men again. Who knows, maybe one day it'll be my turn to get lucky once more.

Ling tak hei, fong tak tai.
(Picking it up, and putting it down)

Malaysia, my country.

2007-12-10T17:07:00.000Z

Time: 01:11

I've all but abandoned my blog, but I can't keep quiet any longer.

I feel helpless, angry, sad, and near tears for my country.

I've been following the political news from Malaysiakini VERY closely since UMNO's AGM, the BERSIH rally on 11 Nov, and attended a Youth for Change event at the Bar Council.

I didn't learn anything I didn't know already, but it opened my eyes. I've never claimed to be "neutral" about politics, but I know a lot of people would. Latheefa Koya said, stop saying neutral, no one's neutral in politics.

Even if I decide to leave the country and live in an island, I've taken my political stand.

Instead, be "objective". Don't be apologetic for not agreeing with the government.

Azmi Sharom spoke of how the current regime changes the Constitution at their will; that he rather see a political party make clear that if they're voted in they will change the entire Constitution, than a party who claims to uphold the current constitution and yet changes it to suit their agenda.

The Hindraf rally further opened my eyes and ears. Though not all their actions are to be condoned, it reflects on the desperation, the plight and the issues faced by the Indian community.

And the rally provoked governmental actions I would not believe possible until they acted.

I knew about the Human Rights day march. And I agreed with this blogger.

How, exactly, did Malaysia celebrate it's Human Rights Day?
By arresting people marching for human rights.

"For me, this characterises a true Malaysian. A true Malaysian understands very well the impact of careless words and actions. A true Malaysian is acutely aware of who will be provoked into retaliation and who will actually suffer the consequences.

"Because of this, a true Malaysian will try to be judicious in word and deed, even when striving for change," he said.

~Abdullah Badawi (as taken from Malaysiakini)

Malaysians are retaliating against the injustice inflicted upon them by the very government they voted in, and trusted in. Yet, we suffer.

So what is the characteristics of a true PM? Stand aside and watch? Feeding lies whilst being fed with more lies? Living in your own world of denials? Don't even start on being judicious...when the constitution can be changed anytime.

AUKU, PPPA, ISA, OSA, Sedition Act. All gagging tools. State-owned media.

What's that quote again? Only when free press exist would there be true democracy?

I am sad. I am angry. I feel so helpless. Malaysians finally spoke out, only to be gagged, disempowered and denied their rights.

But I am hopeful still.

There can be a better Malaysia. There MUST be.

Malaysia can be saved, but it will start from you and me.

Do the right thing next elections; take a stand. Be objective, not "neutral".

If we don't do it...who will?

So I'm a fool...

2007-10-03T16:30:00.000+01:00

Time: 23:32

The gums around my wisdom tooth hurts. It's been hurting since last Saturday. Extends right down my jaw to my throat. Chewing hurts. Swallowing hurts. Talking hurts. Wisdom is a pain in my ass. The tooth will have to go next week. I knew that for two years now; it's just never been this bad. Just delaying the eventual.

Its now the semester break, and I know I've bungled up a couple of papers. It should've been easy; it wasn't. I had distraction. Sitting in Starbucks studying and memorising and fidgeting, all I could think of were the sea, walks, movies, linking hands, warm embraces.

I am going to pay. Right now I don't care, but I'm setting myself up for something I can't even grasp or see. I can foretell, but I can't halt myself. Did the better, rational part of my mind flee, or am I thinking as clearly as I hope I am?

Commitment. That word encompasses everything. The honesty, hope, loyalty, giving, taking, waiting, anticipating. Of baring myself, being vulnerable, fear, risks, disappointments, hopes. Of insecurities and too many what-ifs.

I've made that decision, no turning back. Can't shut the feelings out. Not the ups nor the downs. I've already bought the long-haul ticket and boarded the ride. Now what?

Some say it takes two to tango. So far I felt safe and contented with being led, but right now, I feel forlorn dancing to the solitary tune. I'm being clingy and ridiculous, being the exact antithesis of who I portrayed, no, who I thought I am. It hasn't even been that long, and yet I knew now how it felt like to miss so much, it hurts. I fear the real thing, then.

All will be fine in the end. Trust. All I have.

Guilt

2007-09-21T19:31:00.000+01:00

Time: 02:32

I wasn't going to blog...I know, I know, but I've gotten lazy.

In light of the missing girl and the sexually assaulted and murdered girl case, (If you don't know about it click here, here and here) there are many PSAs on the radio lately warning and reminding parents to look after their kids and never ever leave them alone and let them wander off in public areas.

It's a knee-jerk response, I know, but...it reminds me of something that happened years ago.

It was 1995 before the family went to Australia for autumn and we were shopping for winter clothing in Sogo. I remember my brother (I was 9, he was 6) and I were at the toys department and I was admiring Barbie dolls on my own for quite a while when my mom found me and asked for my brother. He was missing.

My dad...he told me it's my fault, there and then. That my brother has been abducted and that his limbs will be cut off and he'll be made to beg in Thailand. And it was all my fault. I burst out crying. My mom was angry at my dad for saying that to me, I remember, but she was more concerned about looking for him and went to the ground floor info counter. Some girl found my brother outside Sogo's main entrance and sent him to the info counter. All was well.

But...when missing kids like Nurin and Yin appear on the newspapers, that incident comes back to haunt me. I remember how vulnerable and small and innocent my brother was. Technically, I was innocent. What was a 9-year-old supposed to do? My brother was looking at Lego and I was looking at Barbie dolls. He wandered downstairs when he couldn't see my parents. If my dad never uttered those things to me, maybe I won't feel as bad.

But I do. And I'll always carry that guilt. It's not right, but I'll always remember the "all your fault" part. Missing kids always make me sad. And guilty.