10.28.07
off days
Off to Kalimantan tomorrow, folks—so don’t bother checking by here for the next four days or so. When I’m back I promise a shitload of pictures! 
***
On another note, wedding dinner in Melaka was good! Good in terms of company (my cousins and I amusing ourselves), not necessarily so in terms of food. I ate bloody king prawns without taking anti-histamine medication and my rash has flared up again from the last time I ate crabs and didn’t take it. Bully for punishment? C’est moi.
Sylf and I had fun (in the most juvenile sense possible) arguing who was cheaper—in terms of outfit yesterday night. She won—quote of the night: “Yerr, you’re cheaper than me! So nice.”
***
The Facebook addiction lives on. I suspect I will be suffering withdrawal symptoms when I’m supposed to be focusing on other things.
It’s really freaking-cow-hot today. I feel like passing out in bed with the AC blasting but the bills came up to almost RM700 last month so my dad’s not too happy—confounded brother la! *grumps* Besides, I have to pack.
I’ll leave you with a snappy line of dialogue I read in a book recently (9 more to go! Am savouring the prose of The God of Small Things much the way one would savour the taste of wine on the palette—serious, this is not a fancy way of saying ‘I am putting off reading this book’) :
Guy #1: *mutters* “You sonofabitch”
Guy #2: *quirking brow sardonically* “I’m always surprised by the number of people who know my mother”
I love it 
See you in 4 days or more!
xoxo
M.
no more assignments, woots/ ponderings: illegals or expatriates?
Handed in my final assignment for Consuming Otherness: Gender & Global Culture today, after the IMU Art Comp closing ceremony and prize giving (which I got a bit lost, because I took the first turning to Bkt Jalil after the Sunway toll—ended up on the freaking Kesas having to pay an extra RM2.20, gaah). It was fairly interesting, ye gads I even got called up to the front and given a souvenir mug for being ‘The Press’, which oddly made me very very shy. I’m not normally very very shy :/
Maybe because I felt so inferior to all these medical-y people—one of the VIPs gave some speech illustrated on ATP + Pi —-> ADP (whatever the hell this is) and how it was the most important equation ever, rarara…I just sat there with this look of horror on my face because I had my life flashing before my eyes (no, I’m kidding).
This doesn’t beat the line about Einstein’s theory of relativity and the universe though that was spouted by some physicist on Discovery Science’s Brilliant Minds—”When we physicists look at his equations, we weep. Because it’s so beautiful. Because life as we know it can be summed up in an equation less than an inch long”.
I guess art really is relative ey?
Good thing though, I made a new friend and we bonded over bitching about how private universities try to screw their students over (and we, erm, bitched about Medical students. But in all fairness some Med students are really nice! Others, well, are horrid and ought to be shot)
***
I was forwarded an e-mail by a close friend who works with NGOs (let’s call her X) asking for help—donations, cash, manpower, etc—for some Myanmarese refugees. Apparently the UNHCR has temporarily shut down registration for the Myanmarese because so many are fleeing here due to the bloody conditions back home. I asked another friend (let’s call her W) if she’d like to chip in some money, as I have pledged a small amount to buying food for them, X promised to help buy food, etc to give to them on her trip to the families.
But W said something that made me stop and think, and it unnerved me a little, which could be both good and bad. “Honey”, she typed, “You realise you would be supporting illegal immigrants?”
There was just something about this simple statement that struck me, the connotations, the underlying messages…hm.
Now I admit I used to (and still do, depending on the context—but forgive me, old habits die hard) look at migrant workers weirdly, especially those who don’t bathe regularly (you can smell ‘em 
) and make rude catcalls and try to perve at your legs. I do agree it’s a problem, illegal immigrants, expatriates, whatever you want to call them—but to some extent I feel it’s different with the Myanmarese.
But is it really? When can we draw the line? I have a whole bunch of thoughts jumping around in my head that I can’t even begin to articulate.
At the end of the day, we’re all part of the same human race, and we all have the same fundamental rights. Is extending a helping hand in a time of need really ’supporting illegal immigrants’ or just being a decent human being? Can we really chose to include/exclude those of a certain nationality from being ‘worthy’ or receiving our aid?
I don’t support illegal immigration. I do, however, sympathise deeply with displaced peoples who have to flee worsening conditions in their home country, and I would try to help them in any way I could. But as W also said, if I help one family, more and more will be coming in and then…she trailed off at this point, but I got the message.
Our country will be overrun with migrant workers. They’ll crowd public places, ’steal our jobs’, be responsible for social ills and goodness knows what else. But then again, how’s this different from what many of us aspire to do?
Many of us plan on migrating overseas to more developed countries, get a job, start a family there, and enjoy better standards of living. That is exactly what they want too.
Some might argue, but we’re educated, they’re just blue collar workers. And so? Someone still needs to do blue collar work, and if none of us will, they would. It’s just another bloody double standard, I feel, beefed up by bureaucracy and paperwork. And I always find it so hypocritical that whites or Europeans here are ‘expatriates’, while those from third world countries are ‘illegal immigrants’ or ‘foreign workers’.
It’s just another way of us sucking ass, I think. Pardon the crude analogy.
I dunno, maybe some of you will have some thoughts to throw around too. Please do. In the mean time, if anyone wants to help out with refugees too, drop me an email and I’ll point you in the direction of X, or someone else that can help you help others.
Me, I’m going to take things one day at a time: for now, it’s this World Vision trip, then when I come back, my kids at the childcare centre. This doesn’t mean I’m stopping there, but for now, these are my priorities.
I do want to save the world
On another note, I was also forwarded another email by X, an article on The Sun’s website about how within the last 7 months (within KL/Klang Valley, I’m presuming?) there have been 1830 reported rape cases. That’s an insane number. And those are just the cases that are reported! I’m not sure if this number has increased or decreased from previous years, but reading it made me shake my head in horror.
This means that every day I, or friends I know and love, are not raped, is a miracle. That’s scary, sad and….oh gosh, I don’t have the words for it. What is this world coming to :/
10.22.07
kalimantan, imma koming!
Woots.
Now that it’s settled I can actually blog about this, I’ve been bursting to blog about this since I made the call on Friday. But I kept it in, for the fear that I wouldn’t get it!
Next week, I’m off to Singkawang in Kalimantan for a humanitarian trip of sorts with WorldVision
I got forwarded the call for interested participants on the deadline itself, by Shuxian and Fei Wen—woots, girls, thanks! Today I went for an interview with them, and this evening got a call saying that they’ve picked me to go. The trip is fully sponsored—what’s the catch, you ask? Well, I’ll have to ‘tell my peers of my experiences’—heck, I tell you guys what strange morning habits I’ve had, as if a free trip would go unblogged-about!
I will also probably have to be their media biatch (my words, not theirs) in the sense that I’ll have to go for interviews, give speeches, lalala….all stuff I’ve basically been doing since….well, as far back as I can remember So it’s a perfect partnership! And best of all, it’s for a cause I vehemently believe in: the betterment of living conditions for all humans regardless of location, religion, or creed.
Especially since it deals with children, but instead of helping them directly, WorldVision actually pools funds together from the children sponsored to building community infrastructure and equipping their parents with life skills so they can provide a better life for their kids.
And this is a step further to my dreams of going off to save the world, one child at a time 
I am intensely excited. I leave next Monday, the 29th, and return on the 1st of November.
Funny, because on the astrology website I read religiously (ahem), at first I raised my eyebrow suspiciously at this:
“A truly outstanding short trip seems to be on your agenda on or near the full moon, October 26. This trip is not far – about 500 miles or less – but seems outstanding in some way. It will offer you a chance to enjoy being in completely new surroundings and also allow you to learn something new. Investigate how you can use this magical energy. If you have not taken a vacation so far this year, this would be the ideal time to steal a long weekend away – and don’t take your computer!”
Mind you, I do take these forecasts with a pinch of salt, but very often I find that this website especially is incredibly spot-on with the predictions. Should you be a skeptic (and I salute you for being one), I invite you to try following yours for a few months and tell me if some of these things said are spot-on or not!
Mind you, I know she said 26th—but for all it’s worth, I’m also going down to Melaka for another wedding dinner (YAY!) on the 27th. And I usually make allowances for the dates, because I seem to be a supersensitive Piscean, and I experience things (like Mercury in retrogade, which involved all my electronic gadgets going haywire on me at the same time) earlier—this travel prediction was an odd one-off.
I suppose this means I better go donate blood this weekend, because generally you shouldn’t after traveling overseas o_O
But woots! One more assignment to be handed in (WMN3150, whoo!), one wedding dinner and face-stuffing with a 10-course Chinese dinner, then Singkawang, woo hoo!
I just looked at the itinerary, I think there’s a 6-8am slot for us to go tap rubber or something o_O
10.21.07
sunday anecdotes
So I headed over to Izuan’s by my lonesome today for his Raya Open House (more like, Open Mansion, tcah!) as Zhen Yao and Kathia regrettably had other stuff to do. I was pretty much all geared up to go adventuring into the wilderness of Shah Alam, and was determined to go alone.
And I found it! Yay
Anyway, there, amidst the of insecurity/awe driving down the roads and gawping dumbly at the positively palatial proportions of some of the properties (oooh, alliteration!), I was looking forward to the food, but of course Met a few people from uni there, Shazeea, Cze Wien, Desmond, Daleel, Taha…and some of Izuan’s friends, of course.
Among the topics of discussion were of course, our Can-or-Not up in space, and among the uni lot, some of the stuff that went on in the new council’s meeting which I absolutely howled my head off at.
We were talking about making contraceptives readily/easily available to young women in the Wom*n’s Room next semester, provided they use it properly, and with their own prior knowledge (disclaimer: I am not encouraging premarital sex, I am encouraging educated decisions on matters including and especially sexual intercourse). The discussion turned to other forms of contraception such as the birth control pill (not the student’s place to decide—these have to be prescribed by a medical practitioner!), female condoms, etc—
while reiterating the fact that we are not advocating sex per se, but safe sex. And at this point someone piped up, “Well, I have a solution—we should just take the money and buy vibrators, that way there are no STD/pregnancy scares and everybody will be happy”.
I received some mighty strange looks from all the middle-aged folk around us, LOL.
Another hilarious thing, Shazeea, who gave Taha and Daleel lifts to Izuan’s from Sunway, had to leave early, so I offered to drop them back seeing as how I’m only a little over 5km away. Mind you, these two guys, are heaps tall. As in, I reckon Taha’s well over 6ft, and Daleel’s taller than him. Fitting them in the car, Taha had to sit in front with the seat all the way back, and Daleel had to go in the back seat sideways.
I was tickled at this; I must have been the least likely candidate for a carjacking/assault *choi, touch wood* with these two guys in my car! Needless to say, BSM* (car’s name, will not spell it out in case someone takes offense to me stating the obvious with regards to Proton’s (sheer lack of) quality) was straining heavily—it helped not that I got us a little lost on the way back, and ended up in Batu Tiga!
The drive back, was needless to say, highly entertaining
All in all, a good weekend. Saturday was spent in the final MUSA Council Meeting (from 10am-4pm!), cleaning up the Elections Committee office (sob, goodbye, old friend!), embarking on another mini-adventure to send Yee Hou home in Kelana Jaya, and then doing yoga with the kids at the childcare centre! Total wipeout.
Bring on the final week of my undergraduate year, yeah baby!
10.19.07
malaysia boleh
Congratulations, my homeland, for sinking to new levels of low.
I am referring to the RSF Annual Press Freedom Index, where we now sit at 124/169.
Oh well, at least we’re free-er than Singapore that sits at 141. And that’s a point to be proud of, hmm? *raises eyebrow cynically* Much like with our Spaceman (as is the most fitting definition, if this analysis on the space endeavour is anything to go by) , as long as we beat our neighbours, right?
Nevermind that if we ever go to war, they can mobilise their entire male population while our NS trainees can preach to them about nilai-nilai murni and go at them with brooms (no offence to you ex NS-ers, please contextualise this ey? I’m referring to firearms, person-to-person combat, etc).
fish
I feel quite sorry for the fish in the outdoor aquarium of sorts my grandma keeps for feng shui purposes. It sort of swims around aimlessly within the four walls of its watery (leaky—but still full of rainwater) prison.
Sorry, because first of all, it has no proper filtration system—but mind you, it’s one of those super-resilient freshwater fish that can survive in murky ponds, etc; secondly, because it’s all alone. And thirdly, because what can I do to make a difference in the life of this one fish?
I’ve often wondered about fish. Do they feel lonely? Can they tell that they’re just a teeny tiny speck way down the food chain?How is it that they can swim around those four glassy walls and not try and kill themselves in madness?
A few weeks back this poor little fish’s two friends died off, one after another, in a span of three days. I felt really sad as I scooped the little things out the top of the water, staring down at their shiny-scaled, stiff bodies. It’s so different when you handle fishes bought in the markets, you can pick them up and slice them up accordingly, but it’s a different feeling towards a fish you’ve seen everyday since it first arrived, swimming around happily, gobbling up its little fish food balls like you haven’t fed it in weeks. Mind you, we fed them everyday—these three bigger fish, and four smaller ones. I think the smaller ones were eaten up by the bigger ones at some stage, which is also quite sad—I liked the way they were so tiny, with red wriggling bodies that caught the sunlight.
After the deaths ,I conclusively thought there was something wrong with the water, or that maybe it wasn’t getting enough food, but me being me, I just left it. I mean, I fed it as usual, as my grandmother was away somewhere on another mini-break, and I thought it would only be a matter of time before it too died. I used to check up on it everyday, wondering when this last fish, all alone in an aquarium that once contained easily 7-8 fishes, would head up to that big aquarium in the sky (or drain, whichever fishes prefer).
But it survived, and it still is surviving. I cannot vouch for its frame of mind (presuming it has one), or its emotions, etc. But I do wonder, do fish, and other animals, have coping mechanisms for when they are all alone, confined, and in literal darkness? Is it still the same happy fishy I thought it was when it swam and wriggled with glee with its other marine mates? Or is it different, when happiness is alone? Does happiness still exist when one has nobody to share it with?
It made me think of how prison, especially those isolation chambers, is such a terrible place to be. It really does break the human spirit to be naked, alone, and in darkness, surrounded by four cold stone walls and nobody to vouch for that they are still alive, in the loosest sense of the term, save for when food arrives for them.
But often in life we too have our own prisons, either of our own doing or otherwise. And like the fish in my aquarium, swim around aimlessly, mindlessly consuming air and food, not really knowing our purpose. While I suppose it may seem utterly hopeless with no promise of improvement, things can change due to unforseen circumstances.
Something could happen to lift you out of your aquarium, into another realm. Or you could leap out of the aquarium into the unknown, though of course you might land up in a drain eaten by rats. Or you could pray for company, and rejoice when several other little fish join you in your routine.
Or, you could just wait to die.
10.18.07
bookheaven
Yessssss.
Just found out my library card is valid till the end of summer school, huzzah! I forsee many many trips to the library over these holidays. *rubs hands in glee*
I know, I am such a dork. I even have the picture (on my phone, though, boo—can’t find the bluetooth on my computer to switch on so I can’t transfer it to show you) to sorta prove it—me in Ethan’s sexayy specs, or me in sexayy Ethan’s specs, either way you put it.
I really am thrilled though, because this means I can read as many books as I like and not pay for it, because technically, I have, by way of library fees. Books here are not cheap—and for a lit lover like myself it can put a strain on one’s pocket. So I’m using this opportunity to take out as many books as possible—comprising, mostly, for now, Booker/Nobel Lit/Whitbread Award winners.
It has always been my fantasy to be able to walk into any bookstore I like and buy whatever books I wanted without having to think twice about the cost. *sigh* Someday, someday.
Anyhoo.
I’ve already read, finished and returned Vernon God Little (abso-fucken-lutely hilarious!) and am currently savouring the deliciousness of Ishiguro’s The Remains of the Day. From what I’ve read so far, Ishiguro’s prose is like hot scones with melted butter on top—a delicious indulgence that of course, is terribly British. All prim and proper, if you please. I like. Vernon God Little, by contrast, was about as redneck as you could have it—a boy detained (and on the run) from charges for murders he did not commit in the barbecue sauce centre of America. It was incredibly satirical, and quite witty—and of course I appreciated the colourful words he Pierre used to invoke images of more…provocative…things.
My holiday reading list (because I want feedback, recommendations, etc):
1. The Impressionist, Hari Kunzru
2. Incognito Street: How Travel Made Me a Writer, Barbara Sjoholm
3. An Artist of the Floating World, Kazuo Ishiguro (yes I’m on a rampage)
4. The God of Small Things, Arundhati Roy
5. The Buddha of Suburbia, Hanif Kureishi
6. Shopaholic & Baby, Sophie Kinsella
Don’t laugh ok, especially at the last one! For your information I used to be quite the chick lit chick before I turned into a quasi-book snob, and old habits die hard. But sad to say for chick lit I usually switch off la, because plots are usually overdetermined and characters can be quite blah.
But for those who want postmodern chick lit, I highly recommend Cecelia Ahern’s A Place Called Here. I reckon it merges the genres quite well, and you can spot all the recurring themes, imagery, etc. I want to write like Ms. Ahern, I really do.
/edit
In typical me-style I’ve already finished Shopaholic & Baby. Get it out of my system quick, you know? While there were the requisite laugh-out-loud moments, I’ve decided for the life of me why would anyone consciously create such a stupid character. Of course Becky Brandon (nee Bloomwood) may be lovable in her ditzy own way, but honestly, at times her sheer stupidity makes me want to knock her over the head with a cudgel.
That’s it, no more chick lit la. Unless of course I decide to do my dissertation on chick lit (any passable Malaysian/Asian chick lit for me to massacre and analyse to death? Please don’t even bring up that annoying chick May Zhee—something with a little more substance, please), which would require me to devour many chick lit books in the name of research.
I can’t stand these stupid, vapid, vacuous portrayals of women so frivolously caught up in the world of consumerism, sex, and patriarchal ideologies. But it’s sad because not many people (myself included at times) want to really soak up strong, independent, ballsy women.
/end edit
***
To commemorate our final day of class, Temme, Kathia, both Cheryls, Ethan and I sat around for almost a good 6 hours (aye, 6 hours!) gas-bagging in the cafeteria. Meaning to say we talked. About everything and nothing, which often make for the most fun conversations ever.
It evokes a sense of nostalgia, because this is it; the end of our undergraduate year. Kathia’s going off to China, Cheryl Yab’s wanting to work in Singapore, Cheryl Dunn wants to abscond the country (smart girl), Tems will be around but working, Ethan will be here one more semester and me? I still don’t know yet for sure where I’m going, but this is sort of like the end of an era, you know? The fin de siecle.
Has it really been three years? My God, time has just whizzed by.
From being wet-nosed first years who hadn’t a clue about discourse or semiotics and ideology, to jaded third years who are constantly bemoaning the stupidity, passivity and general dead jellyfish-ness of some of our juniors. I know it’s been said a million times before but university life really has been the best years of my life (“so far“, sniffs the Homer in my head). The combination of really being exposed to new things (some radical, some not so), taking on responsibilities, coming into one’s own…I feel a little wistful that I kind of studied most of it away, though I guess it will pay off in the end.
And it’s not like I haven’t been without friends. I’ve met amazing people, been taught mind-boggling things, seen more than I thought I would. *gets all misty-eyed*.
Ramblings aside, cheers to you, my friends, classmates and countrypersons (I’m being politically correct here). It has been, in short, fabulous, dahling.
10.16.07
rumbly grumbly rainstorms
I love the rain. I know it’s quite barmy considering how much I bitch when this time of the year swings round about not being able to do my work (especially tasks that require me to be online), when terrible thunderstorms strike from about 2pm-6pm—Subang being the iron-rich area that it is, my modem’s been struck by lightning twice already so when the storms hit I immediately unplug all things electrical and either work on my laptop with the battery reserves, or curl up in bed with my books.
I was in uni today collecting my assignments for both Sharon’s subjects when the storm struck. As I had offered Kathia my umbrella services (I had a rare smart moment, grabbing the brolly when I was accompanying Dahlia on a smoko break near the smelly giant drain), she being the rain-hater (“the thought of a single raindrop on me, *shudder*”—heh!) that she is, took me up on the offer of Johnny Bravo’s (that’s me brolly! For obvious reasons—it’s got Johnny Bravo on it. Methinks my mum has Dexter) rain shielding properties.
I happily splish-splashed my way with her to the carpark, taking off my spanking new strappy red espadrilles and swinging them round, actually enjoying the rain, to her horror. I dunno why, there’s always something about rain that makes me happy. I love the way the wind lashes at me, the way the raindrops kiss my skin, the feel of water between my toes. If I were a fish (literally), I’d wriggle my fins in glee.
***
There was an Honours briefing session prior, which I attended with Cheryl Dunn, Dahlia and Divya—there were also two first years who came along (good grief, talk about getting a head start! Not to scare you kids, but survive MCP, CCP and Authorship first before you even seriously contemplate taking on a fourth year!). Of course, there was the free lunch, which is always worth a go for
Also helped that my academic crush was there! *twinkletoes* I’ve decided maybe I don’t like him so much today because although he has nice facial hair *nudges Tem*, he wore these absolutely feral slippers. Yaagh. What is it with my academic crushes (there was one in first year, but every other female was also possibly crushing on him, too) and feral footwear!
Thank God, also, my boyfriend has good fashion sense. Though yes there have been times when I want to completely undress him (ooh la la!) to redress him because his clothes don’t fit anymore—he’s lost a shitload of weight since I left, and is really fit now (with muscles…*drool*) but this means all his clothes hang off him! I need to be his little personal shopper when he gets here, note to self.
But yes, rara-ramblings aside, I am seriously contemplating just screwing the Masters option and doing my Honours year—because, dahling, let’s face it, my chances at getting a scholarship (80%-100% summore, naaah!) are pretty dang good. I’ve raked in all HD’s so far for all the assignments I’ve gotten back (and this will hopefully remain constant!) so I reckon I stand a really good chance at doing my Honours for really cheap, if not for free, as since my dad’s company subsidises 50% of my fees, or RM6,000, whichever is less.
Plus I’ll be able to still live at home, help consolidate parental funds, and actually earn more money via freelancing, or tutoring, if I am up to par.
Plus really sink my teeth into the wonderful theories my poor brain has been lambasted with over the last three years, and put it all into practice with fieldwork and stuff!
Plus, if I do super well, there is of course the opportunity to fast track on to a PhD.! Of course, all this is waaaaaay too daunting to be thinking about now, needless to say the parents are thrilled—good old mum wants me to continue the legacy of academia she imagines she’s leaving behind, heh.
So…yeah, woots. Another year put off, from entering the workforce. I am such a wuss.
***
I’m glad it’s rainstorm season because I’ve finally checked three books out of the library that I’ve been dying to read for the longest time:
1. Vernon God Little, by DBC Pierre
2. A Pale View of Hills, by Kazuo Ishiguro
3. The Remains of the Day, by Kazuo Ishiguro
*twinkletoes*
Books + rich coffee + James Morrison on my iPod = Perfection.
Thunder and threaten and terrorise all you want, tropical storm! I am well prepared.
***
rain
sinking in skin
drip. drizzle. drain
dancing delicious
waterproof wanderlust
puddles pools precious
sloshing soles skip
tremulous trickles
divine droplets
i love
10.15.07
omg!
ZOMG.
MY BOYFRIEND IS SO DAMN HOT. *fans self and runs for cold shower*
Is it normal to be so enamoured with one’s other half?
Especially over a year into the relationship, though mind you, more than half of it has been long distance. Pfft.
But damn, baby, he’s hot o_O
***
Mun Teng and I today reached a milestone in our relationship: we’re co-purchasing stuff.
More like, sharing the cost of a dress we both love, that is not expensive at all to begin with but since we both vowed not to spend money on anything except food at Bangsar today, we both decided splitting a dress (we’re going to share custody *grin*) over counts as half breaking our vows.
I just figured out why I can’t upload pictures—exceeded my damned Dropshots bandwidth. Gaah. Will use Flickr when I can be bothered to, right now I just want to lie back and fan myself and repeat over and over (with much awe): my boyfriend is so hot, my boyfriend is so hot….
Hands off girls, he’s mine.
