Hunger and karipap

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

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

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?

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...

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

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

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...

...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

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....

...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!

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...

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

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

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

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

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.

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!

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

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

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.