June 23, 2008

on sweetness

Posted in Family, Happenings at 2:26 pm by meldee


Sweet offerings.

*kueh ee, to symbolise sweetness, completeness and purity.

Taken with my Canon EOS KISS, Cousin’s wedding, Malacca.


I found the Dhammapada online, trying to recall a quote I read somewhere about sweetness and virtue (but it turns out I was mistaken, at least I knew it was in the chapter about Flowers!). Lovely.

I was in Malacca over the weekend for my (second) cousin K’s wedding to P, a Nyonya girl. They got all kitted out in the traditional garb, albeit not in full costume—methinks the full set would probably be incredibly heavy as the old school ones are made of pure gold! I went snap-happy (again, pictures are on Facebook) and took heaps of photos, mostly of my own family, and these amusing pair of light-up devil horns that got passed pretty much around the room, even landing on the head of the groom and the father of the groom!

It was an incredibly fun time, being with family, talking rubbish and being loud and totally at ease. It just made me thinkabout how sweet life is when we choose to relate to it this way.

I watched my aunts and uncles taking to the dancefloor for old-fogey dances (the Twist! Haha!), my cousins doing their own thang in the corner of the room, the amused faces of the old aunties and the rapidly reddening faces of the old uncles…and when the last slow dance of the night started, I watched the groom lead his bride onto the dancefloor and they began a soft, slow swaying, followed by other couples, my own parents included.

It made me smile (from the inside!) at how beautiful this all was, as cheesy as it sounds. K & P, just at the very beginning of their life’s journey together, dancing side by side with my own parents, who have loved, lived, laughed (and sometimes come damn close to clobbering each other in frustration!) for almost 25 years now. Others, like my aunt and uncle, have been married for over 30 and they’re so much a part of each other it’s funny.

Life is really as sweet as we make it. *happy sighs

Ok, this post pretty much has no point other than to further implicate myself as a total mushbucket. And that I have a sweet tooth—further encouraged by T’s posting of various lollies and stuff to me 😀


April 20, 2008

on giving thanks

Posted in Family at 1:46 pm by meldee

It’s indeed ironic that we so rarely give thanks for the things and people that are right before our eyes.

But it’s also not easy; in fact, it can be very hard indeed. How do you begin to thank someone for everything they’ve done for you since the day you were born? For the bathtime fun, the school lunches packed, the diapers changed, the clothes so lovingly stitched and repaired? For the food laid on the table, the hugs and kisses, the long talks, the stories shared?

How do you tell them that it is because of their love and time, tears and encouragement, that you are who you are today?

Though you can talk to them about anything and everything, it’s so difficult to really stop, and say, ‘Thank You’ for being around all your life. For knowing you better than you know yourself. Because really, where do you even begin?

I know I couldn’t start to thank her without it ending up a complete sobfest, complete with anecdotes that have been rehashed a million times before and emotional declarations. Only because I think the love we have for each other can only remain unspoken between us, for if we were to try to describe it, we’d draw a complete blank. Because it’s infinite.

For those of you who know me well, you will also probably know how much she means to me. How much I adore her though I grumble about her incessant naggings and having to bring her out shopping; how much I love her cooking and hearing about her blonde moments (yes, she gets them too!); how she is my rock, my idol, my angel.

Happy 71st, Granny.

It is because of her I know the value of life. Her bravery, courage and resilience have inspired me all my life and I know I will always think of her as my Superwoman. I want to have children that inherit her giving spirit, kindness, devotion and strength so that her memory will never leave this earth. I want this, because I don’t know if I could ever be half the woman she is.

I can only hope.

Thank you. Because I want the world to know how much I really do love you.

December 9, 2007

iron-clad irony

Posted in Bah!, Family, Happenings, Malaysia, My Home, Ranty Pants at 12:57 pm by meldee

Some incredibly ironic facts about yours truly:

  1. I am a faux-Chinese. I think my only Chinese traits (besides the physical, which is rather obvious) are that I can be chronically kiasu and I’m always looking for ways to save money (so I can splurge it on something else). Language skills are zilch.
  2. With a name so musical it borders on hysterical (I outgrew it’s ‘cuteness’ about a decade ago), I am completely and utterly non-musically inclined.
  3. I am, so it seems, an adult who has nothing to show for said adulthood save for monthly cramps, mammaries and a driver’s license. And oh, the right to vote and pay full fare on stuff.
  4.  For a Piscean who’s supposedly all fluffy and flighty and lovey-dovey, I am not feeling any of those right this very moment.
  5. I am a passive ‘activist’. I’ve added the ‘…’ because clearly I am not actively doing anything except breathing furiously through my nostrils like my yoga instructor taught me this morning, while the rest of my friends are out there actively defending their rights, and the rights of others.


Because my Daddy told me so *grumbles*.

It had been all worked out, I was even on my way to the train station with Apsara and Seetha (I was driving—and I had my aunt in the front seat as I offered to drop her for her class at UM on my way) when he called asking me to turn back immediately, or else (I am quite used to these threats now, lately they’ve been threatening to take away my car keys).

For good measure, Daddy rang my aunt, and then for contingency, rang my lawyer aunt to call me and tell me to go home.

Honestly, am I that much of a child still? I ranted to my cousin, who said something which struck me and just totally reflected the attitudes of so many out there, I reckon: “Human rights is just a myth in this country. You already have everything you want, what else do you need?”

Has it really come to that? Can we as civil society merely turn the other cheek and shrug, saying “I am comfortable just the way I am, why bother?”.

The thought of it both saddens me and makes me incredibly furious at the same time.


I heard from Seetha that eight people were arrested this morning, four of them lawyers, for walking around *ho hum*. Geezus H.Krispy Kreme, are they going to arrest people for getting some ‘morning exercise’ in groups now and detain them under the Internal Security Act (ISA)?

This is fucking bullshit. All of it.

Honestly, the ISA is the best scare tactic the government has created so far. Even small fry like me and you are terrified of making anti-government statements for the fear of “being detained under the ISA”. Fuck that, are we then supposed to obediently bob our heads and agree with everything they shovel at us?

C’mon people, we can do better than this.


I am so so so embarrassed 😦 And disappointed.

And worn out because taking anger out in the gym for two solid hours is most wearying.

I hope those who went to the Bar Council today are safe and well.

Apologies 😦

I am such a failure *drops head into hands and wails*

September 27, 2007

that’s how the cookie crumbles

Posted in Family, Friends, Happenings at 12:04 pm by meldee

Quite a few things have happened lately, I suspect it’s because of the full moon. Yes, I’m still going round my astrological bend here, so if you if you think I make sense, read on and nod accordingly; if not, just read on anyway and furrow your brow.

First of all, there was the issue of my dress being unzipped by a Mr. Monash candidate on-stage during the pageant Q & A session during ball night. While no, my dress did not fall down, I was left fuming internally and feeling very embarrassed as this occurred in front of the Pro Vice Chancellor, various Monash alumni and sponsors. I also know that this person is running for candidacy in the MUSA Elections and should he make a public apology (as has been suggested), it could affect his chances.

As an Assistant Returning Officer, I am thus in a quandary of sorts. While I can fully empathize with him as a person, I cannot condone in any way, shape or form the fact that his actions, as juvenile and childish as they seemed, constitutes sexual harassment. As a university student, it is expected that there is a certain degree of maturity, so regardless of what his friends might think, please realise that I have nothing against the person in question, just his actions.

The student population needs to be reminded that it is not ok to publicly humiliate a person in front of an audience regardless of what the intentions are and while some could accuse me of scapegoating, I will have you know that I have no personal problems with this gentleman in question. However, I am a quasi-feminist and thus must make it a point to stand by my principles because right or wrong to you, these are my thoughts, and my stand, and I will not apologise for it.

And speaking of standing by one’s principles, I either very stupidly (or perhaps I wanted this to happen) forwarded my Bringing Human Rights Home article to my aunt, who in turn forwarded it to my father. He is reportedly very very very very very (x 10,000000000) disappointed in me, which of course I feel terrible about.

But once again, while I sympathise, and would like to clarify that by NO MEANS am I belittling my parents whom I love and respect, I am standing up for what I believe in. I guess as a journalist/writer this is one of the hardest steps I will take: separating my personal from my professional. If I allow myself to be guilted into apologising for every little thing that offends or hurts someone, I will get nowhere, because almost everything is seditious anyhow.

I was, in any case, merely using my experience as a case study for the limitations of the scope of the UNDHR; while it is not a bad thing, it is the reality of things. I’m glad I specified this in a paragraph towards the end; I’m finding it increasingly important as a writer to always cover my behind when I say controversial things -_-”

On to happier news: the cyst in my breast has somehow vanished. Hurrah! I have another appointment in 6 months for another follow-up though; while I am happy it’s gone, I am happier that I managed to drive all the way down to KL by myself and not get lost 😛

Sigh sigh sigh. Eventful holidays indeed.

Just quick splurts here while I wait for Sush to pick me up for wan tan mee (nyums). Comment away, my friends.

Am I being plain evil (in both cases) or am I doing the right thing? Sometimes even I need affirmation :/

September 24, 2007

bringing human rights home

Posted in Bah!, Family, Random Ramblings, Social Responsibility According to Me at 10:11 pm by meldee

I actually wrote this for publication, but since it has far exceeded the usual word limit (it stands currently at 1,489 words, so bless you if you persevere throughout this article) I shall share it here. I anticipate many to have fallen asleep by the fourth paragraph, but I’m hoping you will surprise me.

I surprise even myself, when I really go off on a tangent or start rambling about something I feel strongly about.

Share with me your thoughts. Am I being unreasonable, or am I not being reasonable? 😛



As a quasi-feminist currently undergoing a third-year unit in global consumption and Otherness, I am at times left wringing my hands in despair on the odd occasion when I make attempts to bring what I’ve learned in the classroom into the family living room.

Oh, not just speaking about it, of course, anyone can do that; but making actual attempts to enforce them—my parents, bless them, are learned, worldly folk who obtained their professional qualifications overseas; while I deeply admire and love them, at times they drive me stark raving mad. They are remarkably forward thinking in some ways, and in others, make me feel as if I am transported back to feudal times.

The current bone of contention in my household is the fact that I, an adult, working hard freelancing as a writer for eight solid months to scrape up enough for a return ticket to Australia to see my friends (and boyfriend) in celebration of the completion of my undergraduate degree, want to “leave home without permission” for a holiday.

My parents are very reasonable people. They can, for emotional reasons due to their acute unexplainable fondness for a prickly, cantankerous being such as myself, also be incredibly unreasonable. Please do not tell me patronizingly that they act the way they do because they love me; doubtless to say, I am aware of this—what antagonizes me is their selective approach to applying this ‘love’.

As a young woman, I see no real harm done in taking a few weeks off after completing my course of study, using hard-earned money I have saved, to go on vacation. Article 24 of the UN Declaration on Human Rights says in recognition of the limits of the human mind and body, that “Everyone has the right to rest and leisure.” Article 13 also talks about the freedom of movement, assuming one has valid corresponding paperwork: “Everyone has the right to leave any country, including his own, and to return to his country.”

So, one might argue, what is the problem here?

I am thus being guilted (‘emotional blackmail’ is too strong a term, though with critical distance one could argue it is such) into wanting to take a vacation using my own money, at a time where I am legally and financially capable to do so. Mind you, I have not amassed a grand fortune in my pitiful bank accounts, nor am I normally the overly rebellious kind. But I am being punished for my decision and actions, and this is the point that I disagree with.

If I am faced with the prospect of such a familial uproar over me taking a holiday, what more when I choose to marry? What if it turns out that I am homosexual? What if I conceive out of wedlock, refuse an abortion, and decide to bring my child up as my own? Where then can you draw the line? Will I be punished even more severely then for my decisions? Of course, I do not doubt this for a second.

Even coming from a semi-modern Asian family where old, quaint values are (unhappily?) married to the practicalities of day-to-day living, there are still absurd and redundant rules we as children have no choice but to follow. Double-standards exist everywhere and are applied on a whim; we are left no choice but to concede when the filial piety card is played, because heaven forbid, we might be accused of being the ungrateful spawn of Satan himself.

Speak too radically against societal discourses, and one is accused of being ‘Westernised’ (oh the cardinal sin of it; when we are constantly and willingly exposed to Western ideas and discourses via Althusser’s Ideological State Apparatuses, namely law, religion, the media and one’s own family in the name of progress; should one’s ideas deviate too drastically from the Asian norm one is practically burnt at stake for it), or worse still, ‘immature and idealistic’.

The disagreement I am having with my parents thus brings to light two possibilities: one, that my parents for all their book-learning, are really close-minded conservatives who are unable to accept a universal document as applying to everyone including their beloved girl-child; or two, the UNDHR is problematic in the sense that it does not specify its scopes or limitations to include or exclude certain peoples.

My father’s argument when I informed him of the charter stating the right to travel and leisure was a terse “This only applies to working people, not those living off their parents.” At this response, I smirked internally, because I know when the family trump card is laid down, one has a fair indication that one has touched a raw nerve or made a comment there is no reply to.

But by virtue of the fact that it is called the United Nations Declaration on Human Rights, one would thus be able to deduce according to elementary logic that I am human, ergo, these rights also belong to me. Unfortunately, for most, the UNDHR remains an ideal—if such rights are a challenge to uphold even in an educated middle-class urban family like mine, what more for those in marginalised positions?

One might not hesitate to critique my navel-gazing at this stage, but I would like to impress that it is more than this. I am merely using my position and experience as a point of reference to point out the inherent contradictions we occupy in this liminal space between tradition and modernity.

I just love it how parents and those of the older generation spout such things like ‘children are the future’ and encourage us to live our dreams—so long as we obtain their stamp of approval and hand in a 24-page proposal before attempting to do so. Where then lies room for exploration of new ideas and frontiers, if we are only allowed to roam within preset boundaries?

Our Asian dilemma is an unusual one. We are thrust into the arena of the global in terms of culture and education, keeping up with the trends and current debates—yet, should something contrary to traditional values I have no idea why we cling on to with such desperation, such as embracing homosexuality, cohabitation or single motherhood arise, lips are thinned and we are grimly told that we cannot act this way, we are Asian.

Does being Asian make us any better, or worse, than anyone else out there? We are all part of one race, and that is the human race—ethnicity and difference has for far too long been used as an excuse not to take down these absurd boundaries we have erected around ourselves and our community in the name of keeping things pure.

Has it not occurred to the purists that by building these impenetratable walls around us in the name of protecting our culture and heritage, we are not only keeping others out, but ourselves in? On what basis do we pick and choose what to keep in and what to discard? Where does one draw the line between plain logic and tradition?

This leads me back to highlighting the issue of the selective embracing of the UNDHR—for as long as we cling on to ideas that we are protecting our culture and heritage and thus choosing to knowingly snub a universal charter on fundamental human rights, we cannot hope to progress mentally and emotionally. It says naught about real progress if one has only amassed a material fortune but possesses nothing in one’s head and is so closed up to new ideas.

If this matter regarding my taking a holiday causes such an uproar, what more my right to religion, marriage, owning property, health and education? It does not make sense to say, “Oh no, education, that’s different,” because it all still falls under the declaration on human rights, of which the right to travel is one of. And this is just my personal quandary; I am sure there are many other unheard voices of dissent out there.

I am not asking my Asian counterparts to launch into a mass revolt, or to start denouncing one’s heritage—I am merely asking us to consider where we draw the line, and to be more conscious of it. It made me ache in my Women’s Studies class when many of my female (in terms of both sex and gender) classmates admitted to being marginalised, or treated as a second class citizen by their own families, even, because ‘that is the way things are’.

I do not doubt that true progress will come eventually. But real change takes time, and I encourage young women, and men, out there to stand their ground. Know your rights, because as Foucault said, (specialist) Knowledge is Power. When we are aware, we are empowered. And we should not hesitate to take a stand, even on an issue as seemingly insignificant as taking a holiday.

* the UNDHR is available here in case you felt like doing more reading.

 Bless you for persevering.

July 31, 2007


Posted in Family, Happenings, Social Responsibility According to Me at 6:58 pm by meldee

I’m worn out. Frazzled, fried, half-baked, sauteed, steamed, rolled up and inserted in a bun and wrapped up in toxic plastic.

Ok so perhaps that was an unnecessary visual, but it’s all good 🙂

Week three of uni, and I’m beginning to think I may have bitten off more than I can chew (as usual, nothing new there!).

On top of a full load of class, I have snagged the position of Assistant Returning Officer for the upcoming MUSA general elections, am writing for four publications, and have not long ago extended my services as willing dogsbody to the wonderful people at the All-Womens’ Action Society (AWAM). It’s only really beginning to hit me that I’m going to wear myself out, but hey! It’s only uni on top of work and volunteering, it could be worse 🙂 I could be having a baby!

Heh ok that was completely random. But yeah, seriously. It feels good being active and productive, and I have the feeling that I am meant to do this—the writing, the volunteering.

I had a mystical experience in uni yesterday during lunch, over a frankly, rather bizarre conversation about tantric sex, when a classmate who is a self-taught healer and spiritualist took one look at me and said how he’s sorry I’ve been having a rough last few months. Which frankly, startled me because I hadn’t talked with him for ages. He also remarked how I have a lot of rage bottled up inside (whoops)…we talked about callings, about divinity, meditation, spirituality.

And the whole conversation left me feeling remarkably rejuvenated because I’ve always been a bit of an airy fairy, and hearing all this, right now, made everything fall into place 🙂 Intuition is an amazing thing, and signs are all around us. I know I sound very mysterioso right now, but it’s all good. I’m not trying to explain myself, just merely relate my epiphany of sorts and encourage anyone else out there to do the same 🙂

Today we also had two remarkable speakers from AWAM and WAO who spoke for the Wom*n’s Affairs Collective’s Feminism 101 talk in Monash’s Wom*n’s Room. It was a small session, but no less powerful—we traced the history of feminism in a Malaysian context, talked about what we can do to empower ourselves (the answer, my friends, is not blowing in the wind—it is in education, and finding one’s voice. Speak up and do it proudly, because our rights are all enshrined in the Federal Constitution) against everyday harassment.

It’s so inspiring being around strong, beautiful women who have such strong conviction in their beliefs, not only as feminists but as members of society because that’s what feminism is about to a large extent in this country—fighting for protection, or against obscure laws that affect all of us as citizens.

I’m waxing lyrical, and at the same time falling asleep. I suppose nobody really wants to listen to my endless yibberings, so I shall end it with pop culture propaganda: watch The Simpsons Movie, it is possibly the best movie I’ve seen all year save for Babel 😀

*hums* Spider-pig, spider-pig…

Yes by the way thanks for all the nice encouraging messages about the car 😀 To my shock and horror, driving back from my aunt’s place on Sunday night, I discovered that the backlight behind the speedo- and tachometer is a terrible, bright, brazen, incomprehensibly Ah Beng electric blue.

I am horrified to realise that I am driving an Ah Beng car.

But is ok, I like being different (just like everybody else ho hum), and plus I’m glad I don’t have to walk home anymore ;D

Just call me Ah Lian, but don’t ever forget that I could probably write circles around you or beat your ass in a game of Scrabble. Ha!

July 16, 2007

joshua bell/commence final semester

Posted in Family, Happenings, Random Ramblings at 9:28 pm by meldee

I went to watch Joshua Bell live in performance yesterday at the KLCC MPO with Tems and Joanne 😀 We got our tickets heaps early, maybe as far as two months back, and have been eagerly awaiting being in the presence of this music maestro, left to gawp in the audience at his dexterity and amazing violinistic (?!) skills.

*breathes awe-stricken sigh*

First of all, I’m a huuuuuuge music buff. Any kind of music—while I’ll be the first one to admit that I have no formal training in music (unless you count a few months of crappy keyboard training at Yamaha in Parade), I will also say that I do not discriminate (much) when it comes to music (unless it’s techno or trance). I love my classical stuff, and adore strings…

Secondly, Joshua Bell. Not only is he incredibly talented, he is pretty darn good looking too (in some pictures, he reminded me very much of Philip Dearman though, for some reason! Eeps.) though he may not have looked his best yesterday, oh wells. The audience was silent throughout his amazing performance (one piece, with a sympathy/appreciative encore, because the people wouldn’t stop clapping!) and heaved a collective sigh of appreciation when he was done.

Thirdly, this being my first time at the MPO, I was awestruck. I loved everything, the quiet, cool, classy atmosphere, the dim, sophisticated lighting, the sinks in the toilet cubicles (because I am a jakun) …not to mention entering the actual hall itself and taking in the intricate (and arguably,verging on tacky) details. When the orchestra started to play, watching the bows move up and down in unison, the swift, almost poetic movements of the conductor, the passion that emanated from the stage…I was hooked. I am hooked.

Apparently they’re playing Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake in November. *swoons* I hope I’ll be back from Melbourne by then…made calls today, and apparently the MATTA fair tickets usually only last two weeks, which is terrible news, but better than nothing I reckon.

Sigh. I suppose love, like anything else, is only rewarding if you put much effort, time, and devotion into it.

Digress, another point. Josh Groban is touring this region too, come year end. My, my. I have too many Josh-Loves in my life, Josh Groban (for always, forever), Joshua Bell, Joshua Tan. Haha the last one, in jest, but I reckon KKB will get a rise out of it considering how he’s always making fun of us.


So I began my final  semester at Monash today. The new campus, as everyone has been saying, is pretty impressive. Given today’s the first day of it being fully operational, there were the inevitable hiccups, like this lecture of some boring-ass bioscience guy rambling on and on transmitting into all five lower level lecture theaters while we were watching the first screening for our Contemporary TV Studies class, Soapdish (a satirical film parodying the ridiculous world of soap opera, starring Whoopi Goldberg, Robert Downey Jr., Teri Hatcher, etc).

I like Contemporary TV Studies already, because for our first assignment we are required to watch at least one season of either The Sopranos, Buffy, or…..Sex And The City! Plus we have to write a critique on two articles from a book/texts about the above mentioned texts. I could feel the frisson of excitement among the girls as SATC was mentioned.

*wiggles toes in glee*

Also, another subject I’m sure I’ll enjoy—Writing Experiments 😀 We get to do all sorts of weird and wonderful things and break with discursive conventions and syntax and come up with some funky shit in class—huzzah! For our final project, we are to submit a 2,000 word piece for grading purposes, but can also opt to present our work visually—2,000 words in a song, play, sculpture, dance, etc…it’s a wonderful and liberating idea, to let our work transcend words!

I can’t wait to get started, I have about a million (possibly terrible) ideas bouncing around in my head. I want to do something huge and flamboyant, in keeping with my loud, OTT Sagittarius bits.

Yes, in case thou art wondering, I have been dabbling back into the world of astrology thanks to a new, good friend 😉 And Linda Goodman. Who is and has always been my astrological sifu ever since I got hooked at age 11. Anyone want personal astro-analyses done? 🙂 Heh.

In case anyone’s wondering, I am a Pisces Sun and Venus, Aries Rising and Mercury, and Sagittarius Moon and Mars. Yes, I am very fire-influenced; very indignant when I feel my integrity is being questioned, very friendly (and clumsy). I have wanderlust and will always say the most tactless, terrible things because the words skip the filtering portion of my brain and come tumbling out my mouth uncensored. Yet, I can also be the girliest girl there ever was, and love daydreaming and scribbling poetic lovemush and walking around with my noggin in the clouds.

Aaah. Astrology. I like.

Tems and Joanne, you can get over my buying the book yesterday now—I’ve come clean 🙂


This morning as I was loitering about the foyer reading the morning paper, I noticed two huge Lexus pulling up to the compounds, one silver, one black. Knowing how hard the guards are on simply letting people in, I thought it was going to be the PVC or someone of similar ranking pulling up.

My curiousity was piqued when I saw two men hop out of the first Lexus, run to the second one, and pull the front door open. And emerged…..a girl. With a backpack, and plastic file. The men ushered whom I presume is her younger brother into the front  seat before rushing back into their Lexus and pulling out of the compound as the girl stood waving at the cars for the longest time.

Now. What. The. Fuck.

If the girl in question is the daughter of a V.V.I.P (in which case she is likely to be), wouldn’t one suppose that all this extra attention, especially in the main foyer area teeming with keeno students on the first day of classes be bound to draw some, if not more attention of potential would-be faker friends or kidnappers or what-have-you?

I absolutely despise how people in this country (and of course, by extension, all over the world) think that because they have money they can buy absofuckinglutely anything and everything. Two Lexus to fit two people in each? Just because she’s privileged she cannot walk from the main gates into the compound, and on that same note, is thus rendered incapable of opening her own car door?!


You are in university, for crying out loud. An institution for higher learning. Learning that cannot be presented to you on a silver platter because you need to put in your own effort into your work. Honestly, just by witnessing this girl having, nay, allowing, someone else in another car to open her door for her seems to indicate to me a person who would want the easiest way out, and thus, forsake work, and hog the space another more deserving, intelligent person could have gotten! Why? Because she has the money!


I’m so disgusted. I hate the whole thing, having to have someone else do your shit. Especially open your car door. Like I mean I wouldn’t mind it if it were at a particular posh location, or a one-off thing, like the boyfriend opening the door for you before you go on a special date, but at uni? In broad daylight? Having to exit another car just to open a fucking door? That’s downright ridiculous.

I reckon it’s more than sour grapes speaking now. My Sagittarian bits are outraged that someone who is in perfect physical condition could permit such a pointless and degrading act of subservience. I hate fakers and can spot them a mile off, I always feel uncomfortable around people who are particularly nice or sucky-uppy. I can just tell, all right? That’s my Piscean psychic capabilities and ultra-sensitive emotional tuning fork doing the job.

Grr. Anyhoo, I should try not to get too worked up about petty, small, ridiculous things that are no real concern of mine anyway. I shall read more Linda Goodman, and meditate over her wise words, and memorise the section on how to recognise people from particular sun signs so I can go nuts analysing people.


June 27, 2007

end of exams/new car/i’m so postmodern!

Posted in Family, Malaysia, My Home, Random Ramblings, Shopping! at 1:38 pm by meldee

Yesterday was a superhappening day to say the least.

I finished my exams (for good, I hope! Next sem, as I’ve been gloating continuously ad infinitum, I haven’t got any exams bwahahaha *snooty face*), waking up at 4am for last minute mugging and drinking the free Tongkat Ali 3-1 coffee my Dad brought back one day (‘Power Root’ it says on the sachet, haha double innuendo!) and having the caffeine and Tongkat Ali high wear off an hour into my PR exam resulting in me almost falling face-flat onto my half-scribbled exam paper. Followed up by a lunch/goss session with my fave Singkie (if Hong Kong people are Hongkies, Singaporeans are Singkies!) Farhanah a.k.a. Bonch-Bonch.

Home home home, just as I was about to pass out my mum called me downstairs to go to Glenmarie, which can only mean one thing.

Test drive new car.

But today it wasn’t a nice car or anything, so pause the excited exclaimations. It’s only a Proton, which at RM26,999 is the cheapest brand new car in the Malaysian car market. Now also before you start slagging off Proton, let me just say that beggars can’t be choosers, and I only plan on using it for a year or two.

Le new car. I have decided to call it Black (Scrap) Metal when it arrives 😀

There were two colour options, black or orange—obviously I took black. What with my midnight curfew and a pumpkin orange car, I’d just be itching to be called Cinderella.

I can get it within two or three weeks, which is just in time for the new semester. The new campus being so bloody far from the bus stop, let’s just say I’m grateful to have a car at all! I mean I know Proton’s been getting all sorts of shit from everyone (most of it well-deserved) and it’s prices are unjustifiably high…like I mean, come on, the new Iswara’s car doors are hollow. The speedometer, aircon, everything looks plastic and tacky, tacky, tacky.


Ok, I actually don’t have a point, I’m just grabbing at strings here. But I will maintain however that a car is better than no car! Hee.

I was listening to this song yesterday while I was studying for my PR exam and it made me break out in giggles. Heh.


I’m so postmodern that I just don’t talk anymore, I wear different coloured t-shirts according to my mood.

I’m so postmodern that I work from home as a surf life saving consumer hotline.

I’m so postmodern all my clothes are made out of sleeping bags, I don’t need pockets, I’m a pocket myself.

I’m so postmodern I go to parties I’m not invited to and locate the vegemite and write my name on everyone.

I’m so postmodern that I write reviews for funerals, and heckle at weddings from inside a suitcase.

I’m so postmodern I’m going to adopt a child, and teach him how to knit, and call him Adolf Diggler.

I’m so postmodern that I break dance in waiting rooms, play Yahtzee in nightclubs, at three in the afternoon.

I’m so postmodern I only go on dates that last thirteen minutes, via walky talky, while hiding under the bed.

I’m so postmodern I invite strangers to my house, and put on a slide show of other people’s Nans.

I’m so postmodern I went home and typed up everything you said and printed it out in wingdings and gave it back to you.

I’m so postmodern I held an art exhibition – a Chuppa Chup stuck to a swimming cap, and no one was invited.

I’m so postmodern I make alphabet soup, and dye it purple, and pour it on the lawn.

I’m so postmodern I request Hey Mona on karaoke, then sing my life story to the tune of My Sharona.

I’m so postmodern I only think in palindromic haikus – “Madam, I, Glenelg, I’m Adam!”

I’m so postmodern that I sit down to wee, and stand up to poo, at job interviews.

I’m so postmodern that I dress up as Santa, in the middle of August, and haunt golf courses.

I’m so postmodern that I cut off all my hair, and knitted it into a beanie, and threw it off a bridge.

I’m so postmodern that I stole everyone’s mail, and cut them up into a ransom note and hid it in a thermos.

I’m so postmodern I take my lego to the supermarket and build my own shopping trolley, and only buy one nut.

I’m so postmodern I wrote a letter to the council – .I think it was ‘M.’

I’m so postmodern I bought a round the world plane ticket, and stuffed my clothes with eggplant and pretended it was me.

I’m so postmodern I’ve got a tattoo of my pin number in hieroglyphics on my neighbour’s guide dog.

I’m so postmodern I fought my way into parliament and made a law banning Nuttelex, and then moved to Spain.

I’m so postmodern that I iron all my lettuce leaves, put my shirts in the crisper – they’re real crisp.

I’m so postmodern I give live mice to buskers, dirty tea towels to the Mormons, and pavlova to crabs.

I’m so postmodern that I live in a tent, on a platform of skateboards that’s tied to a tram.

I’m so postmodern I write four thousand-word essays on the cultural significance of party pies.

I’m so postmodern I recite Shakespeare at KFC drive thru, through a megaphone, in sign language.

I’m so postmodern I’m going to watch the Olympics on a black & white TV, with the sound down.

I’m so postmodern I go to the gym after hours, push up against the door, then cry myself to sleep.

I’m so postmodern I wrote a trilogy of novels from the perspective of a possum that Jesus patted once.

I’m so postmodern that I marry all my friends, soak myself in metho, and tell them that they’ve changed.

I’m so postmodern I bought every book written in 1963 as a reading challenge, and clogged up a waterslide.

I’m so postmodern I think I might be a god in my undies rolling in sugar, in the carpark of a rodeo.

I’m so postmodern I prerecorded this song, and laced a message subliminally telling Shane Porteous to buy a smock.

I reckon the Communications lecturers would be shaking their heads incredulousy while my classmates would be sniggering. I’m tempted to send it to Dr.Yeoh for laughs.

June 1, 2007

timing, timing

Posted in Family, I Wonder..., Love and Relationships, Strange Feelings at 7:30 pm by meldee

I’m afraid I’ve been thinking (a dangerous past time, I know)“- Gaston from Beauty and the Beast.

Same applies for me la, but it’s not too bad, sometimes I do come up with pretty deep stuff if I may say so myself 🙂 Though yes, I also admit sometimes it is utter crap.

I was wondering, especially at this age–you know, late teens, early-to-mid twenties…when’s the right time to start following your heart even (or especially) when everyone else you know is against it?

It’s just one of those things, you know. It could be something as simple as buying a slutty top or dress just ‘cos you feel like it, or getting a piercing, or a tattoo–or getting a partner or potential spouse.

Family and friends will always want what’s best for you, granted. But sometimes, you are the main arbiter of what truly makes you happy. They will always say something along the lines of not wanting you to make the same mistakes they did,but I honestly feel that who qualifies a mistake as a mistake? Similar arguments apply to what constitutes beauty–as the old adage goes, one man’s meat is another man’s poison.

Taking this first step isn’t so much about rebelling, I feel, or ‘going against’ the wishes of those who only want what’s best for you. It’s about you, what makes you happy. And at the end of the day, doesn’t that account for more than anything else? Because it never will be possible to make everyone happy, the line of the oldie goes something like ‘can’t please everyone, so you got to please yourself.’ You’re going to be guilty of sedition anyway, might as well be guilty of something that makes you happy right?
More than anything, I feel this first step is a bigger thing than moving out of home. Because although you live out of home, overseas, like many of you are right now, you still ‘listen and obey’, more often than not, right? But it’s still such a big thing, I feel, being fully conscious of doing something you know a whole batallion of people will disapprove of.

That’s when I reckon you truly become an adult, the say you can say, “Thank you kindly for your advise, and I have considered all the options–but this is what is going to make me happy so I’m sticking to my guns”.

Now now, I’m not encouraging a full-on rebellion or burning people at stake–it’s far less dramatic than that. How often have we not done something for the fear of ‘going against’ the word of the parents, or friends, and then regretted it a few days, months, years down the line?

Life without making mistakes and learning from them is a half-life, I feel. I’m not saying we can entirely disregard the opinions and advice of others, just to know when to draw that line between what makes them happy, and what makes us happy–because ultimately, whose life is it?

But this timing, aah, that’s the tricky thing.