October 16, 2008

on see-sawing

Posted in Happenings, Random Ramblings, The Thesis, Travel and Adventure, Uni at 4:14 pm by meldee

It’s been a mad few days; and ones that I will possibly look back on in a few weeks and smile wryly at. Until then, I’m floundering in a pit of frazzled-ness.

Take this morning for instance.

Was supposed to send my grandmother to the bus stop for her to catch her express bus to Melaka. I thought she said 8pm, so I was rushing to get her there by 7.30. When we got there, poor thing gives me a doleful look and says, ‘It’s only an hour I have to wait’.

Her bus was due at 8.30am.

After driving off, I felt so bad I wanted to turn around and wait with her, but it took me 20 minutes to wait at the traffic light to make the U-turn so I decided not to. It took me about 50 minutes to crawl the measly 5km to uni after that.

Got to uni, and BLOODY security guard at the staff carpark stops me and demands to see my card. There’s only one guard who does this to me, always the same feller. I pressed my card up to my window (it displays the card validity period and faculty) and he shooed me away.

There was a car behind me and I was still wracked with guilt from depositing my poor gran off so early (plus my window rosak. Proton car, what’s new) so I just reversed and drove all the way in to the construction area to park.

By the way, this guard only picks on me. I swear to God. In the time that it took me to walk from my car to the end of the path, he’d let in four other cars (two with P stickers!) without so much as a ‘STOP! SHOW ME YOUR ID!’.

I was eyeballing him furiously from behind my bug-eye sunnies and he was actually eyeballing me back! At the end of the pathway I pulled out my ID and waved it very violently at him to say ‘I HAVE MY BLOODY ID YOU STUPID COW!’

Then I got stopped at the main gates. By the nice lady security guard who sees me everyday.

Who also asked me for my ID. (Bloody hell).

Turns out she was walkie-talkieing with the feller who denied me entry and she eyeballed my card.

‘But your card expires in two weeks,’ she said, confused. ‘I know!’ I wailed. ‘This is the last week of my class and I always park there but he didn’t let me in! He always picks on me!’

Grimacing sympathetically, she walkie-talkies back to the guard. ‘Her staff ID expires on October 31st 2008. Today is not the 31st, it is the 16th.’

Apparently the fat bastard thought this month was what, NOVEMBER?! Bloody eejut. He then apologised and asked me to go back so I could repark my car. Huff. Fat chance.


Rest of the day was spent tutoring (for four hours, oh la la), giving a talk (I am totally creeped out that my name has been splashed on all the uni computer desktops)…in which I got to talk to a cute guy (ho hum!), and now, waiting for my effing virus scan to be completed because the effing uni laptop gave me a nasty something-or-other.

On the agenda is another talk to attend in the evening, working on my slides for my presentation tomorrow, and then starting to read feedback from one of my supervisors on one of my chapters.

And, oh, work on my conference paper.

Yuppo, will be going to (get this) BALI to present my very first (international, eek!) conference paper! All expenses paid, which I am quite smug about. I said I’d blog about it only when I got it, so it looks like my visualisation has actually been pretty effective.

It’s basically a young women’s leadership forum and dealing with the future of feminisms in Asia, so I will be one of possibly hundreds of presenters. I am both terrified and thrilled, and I know it’s a wonderful opportunity, but still.

Wah. With the current workload. Plus there’s a wedding this weekend! Gah.

I’m quite literally see-sawing up and down and mood-swinging like a maniac, because there have been so many things coming up this month. I am so relieved that tomorrow is officially the last day of the semester, and that all this madness should settle by next week.

Big sigh. Apologies for being a Rambly Pants but I’m done now. Expect to hear nothing of me for the next few weeks. It feels like at times like these I am too busy to even breathe.


September 25, 2008

on nothing in particular

Posted in Happenings, Malaysia, My Home, Random Ramblings, Social Responsibility According to Me at 10:12 am by meldee

Don’t forget.

Canon EOS Kiss, The Annexe @ Central Market ladies’ loo (heh), Kuala Lumpur.


If they gave out awards for the worst bloggers ever I wouldn’t be surprised if I were up for a nomination. As long as they didn’t notify me via my blog, for obvious reasons πŸ™‚

Apologies for not replying comments etc, I’ve become remarkably bad with this sort of stuff in general so please don’t take it personally! I’m not even sure why I still keep a blog anymore (sort of like a token pet chicken, that you can’t bear to, um, slaughter for dinner, nor give it away or set it free because you’ve sort of gotten used to it).

I expect to be blogging a bit more when I’m actually on my 2-month sabbatical from All Things Academic–what a luxurious (or hellish, knowing how easily I get bored!) break that will be!

My final thesis deadline is the 14th of November–that’d be my third and final edition (good gods I hope so). A few more rewrites are needed–my third and fourth chapters need to be majorly beefed up in terms of theory and I’m supposed to have a full, rough-ish version by 24th October.

I really never expected this year to be so draining, though I imagine if I hadn’t been such a busybody everywhere else and stuck my fingers in so many pies I wouldn’t be feeling so frazzled! I recall blogging about this, or at least writing about this in my diary (I think this latter possibility is more likely as I don’t think I caught on to the whole blogging phenomenon until I went to college) when I was in Form Five or something when I was trying to teach myself Physics, slog three hours daily over Add Maths prep questions and memorise endless facts for History for SPM, on top of being Interact Club President, President of the English Society (I think? Good grief everything feels so long ago!), go for volleyball training for MSSD, etc…and I think there was the Taylor’s College Debate thing I did as well, on top of like a million other things!

Given all that I suppose I, of all people, shouldn’t be surprised that I feel like a goldfish with its fins tied together. Perhaps it’s no wonder then that everybody else but me seems to have confidence that I will pull through and come up swimmingly!

I’d normally believe it but I really do find myself dreading things that I normally looked forward to…such as holidays, because holidays mean my productivity levels plummet because I’m, er, actually on holiday, or that the uni’s locked up (as it will be these Raya holidays–I cannot imagine anyone else coming in, and the security guards are always very grumpy about having to buzz me in because my swipe card doesn’t work on public holidays!) and since I’ve reformatted Isadella (It’s a Dell, lah) I’ve been stuck with a FOSS version of Microsoft Word which makes me lose all my formatting…gaah.

Anyhoo, moving on.

I had the privilege of doing some rapporteuring for an advocacy workshop on migrant workers in Malaysia and one of the issues that were inevitably brought up was the status of refugees and asylum seekers in Malaysia. Now, I’ve always known that these issues have been out there, heck I’ve even done work with refugee children before.

But I don’t think I really quite grasped the seriousness of the issue–we’re talking about real human beings here who should have the right to safety and shelter and healthcare and education, but they have almost nothing–Malaysia doesn’t even recognise the status of refugees, some of which have been in this country for over 15 years!

I was completely appalled and had to almost hold my jaw off the floor as I heard anecdotes (off the record, of course) about cases of abuse and violence. There were even some pretty heated arguments and debates about what refugees should get and supposedly what they want, which I overheard parts off.

Which made me sort of go a little quibbly inside because from looking around the room I know most of the people there were not refugees, and probably didn’t really have to give a damn, but they did. They don’t have to get so involved, but they do. Which made me again think of this Amnesty International saying, that ‘the only thing necessary for the persistence of evil is for enough good people to do nothing‘.

And it just made me want to try to save the world all over again, you know?

A poem shared with me by a friend not five minutes ago, that made me think of refugees, because my friend reads my mind.

If Porcelain, Then Only the Kind
by Stanislaw Baranczak

If porcelain, then only the kind
you won’t miss under the shoe of a mover or the
tread of a tank;
if a chair, then one not too comfortable, lest
there be regret in getting up and leaving;
if clothing, then just so much as can fit in a suitcase,
if books, then those which can be carried in the
if plans, then those which can be overlooked
when the time comes for the next move
to another street, continent, historical period
or world:

who told you that you were permitted to settle in?
who told you that this or that would last forever?
did no one ever tell you that you will never
in the world
feel at home in the world.

Translated by Frank Kujawinski.


Selamat Hari Raya to all.

I wish things in the country would bloody settle down already so issues of actual importance can be worked on–I’m sick of all this faffing around. Roar.

August 5, 2008

where am i?

Posted in Happenings, The Thesis, Travel and Adventure, Uni at 12:00 pm by meldee

Here, there, God-knows where.

Canon EOS Kiss, M.University Cultural Night 2008.


So I’ve been away…don’t know how many have noticed, indeed, how many still stop on by as part of their blog-skipping routine. It’s four weeks into the semester and things are starting to go blah again, as they inevitably do. Have been feeling scattered and uneasy, and the pressure is mounting (as is the pile of work).

I’ve decided to firmly knuckle down this week before I head up North for an eating holiday with a Dahling. 2,000 words is the goal–how feasible this is remains yet unseen.

It has come to my attention that I have a blogstalker. While that in itself is hardly something to be shocked or horrified over, given the very nature of the Internet itself, the whole notion of stalking in general scares the bejeezus out of me. I never understood why some people do it, or comprehended the compulsive nature of it. I suppose I’m being quite contrary as I have stalked a few blogs in my time (now mostly fashion-oriented ones) but I hate it when online activity spills into my offline life.

So BlogStalker, stalk my blog all you want but please don’t give me meaningful looks in public. Good grief, the very thought of it… it’s enough to make me want to pee in my pants with fright.

I am perfectly aware that I am rabbitting on quite incomprehensibly.

For anyone who cares, indeed, I assume not many would, I am about 7,000 words into my thesis. This means I’m about a third done? Unfortunately, not much of this 7,000 words make any sense; it’s still a montage of dispersed arguments and disparate thoughts. Now I know why I was discouraged from tutoring, alas my pride required me to do it just to prove a point (and to earn money).


I have a new pet rock. I kid you not. I carry it in my pocket (starting today, seeing as how I got it yesterday) so consider yourselves warned, would-be-assailants, I have a pet rock and I’m not afraid to use it.

Listening to Yann Tiersen’s soundtrack for Amelie always makes me smile. I’ve been listening to it for the past..oh, four hours? It’s on repeat; it almost always is. Perfect for mood music (mood to do work, that is).

I am obsessing over my hair. Again. My Aries is fascinated with it and so I can hardly help myself.

Three months to Australia. The visa and return ticket have yet to be sorted, though. I’m not migrating there yet, so you can stop asking me polite questions or fretting that I may not return. I fully intend on bringing The Boy home with me again though and letting him experience Chinese New Year on the home turf.

Wanderlust’s hitting hard lately. The more I know I need to stay in, the further away I want to flee. Let’s hope the trip North this weekend and the sojourn down South at the end of September to visit a dear old friend will keep me motivated, and satiated.

Books on photography and vintage RM10 skirts have been one of my sources of joy lately. As have the long whispered conversations with The Boy, though I hope his Internet connection gets sussed out soon because my phone credit is depleting like that *snaps fingers*.

I want to crawl into some seaweed and stay there for a good while.

July 6, 2008

on colourings

Posted in Happenings, Kids, Malaysia, My Home at 5:38 pm by meldee

Don’t box me in.

Taken with my Canon EOS KISS.


As the English/Malay speaking half of World Vision Malaysia’s Youth Ambassadors (hah! I sound so self-important) I had to today emcee a colouring contest at the Putra World Trade Centre in conjunction with the My Family Showcase. All registration fees went to World Vision Malaysia (yay! Methinks about RM4,000-RM5,000 was collected) and kids between the ages of 5-12 stood to win cash prizes.

Now, hardly exerting stuff, but it was quite challenging, and hilarious how miscommunication was so rife and there wasn’t enough space for all the kids to colour together; the younger ones remained inside the hall while the older kids had to colour outside (poor things).

Now, why this is blogworthy: it was scary.

Like, seriously—the air of competition, the hardcore coming-early-to-book-a-spot, the doting parents who watched their kids like hawks…now, I’ve entered a few colouring contests in my time (haven’t we all? It’s like some Malaysian child’s rite of passage)—never won, obviously, because when I was a kid my 5 second attention span was much worse and I never got the hang of the shading thing—but I don’t remember those colouring contests being less of a contest than it was a battle!

Ok picture this yeah—clearly some of the kids go for art classes (in addition to the music/piano class, the taekwondo class, swimming class, maths class, English class, spinning class cooking class upper-middle class…yeah I’m kidding about the last three, but you catch my drift); these kids were the ones with the hardcore parents.

The parents that buy them full on mini-tables and chairs and lugged it to PWTC just for this. The parents that forced me to return submitted artwork “because the full two hours are not up yet; Ah Boy, colour some more until time is up, I don’t care if you are tired or not”. The parents that crushed littler kids in the melee that happened during prize-giving up on stage.

Gaah! The kids are almost as scary….especially among the older ones, many of them actually brought pieces of cloth to cover their half-completed artwork to prevent other children from seeing what they’ve done! They’re sitting there on their cushions/mini-chairs, barefoot, little scraps of crayon-stained cloth around them, dusting and scraping away at their artwork, giving their opponents sneaky looks and glaring quite dangerously at me when I make announcements, like they’re thinking “stuff yer gob, ye crazy woman, let me colour in peace! Yer disrupting my artistic train of thought as to whether I should colour the man’s hair cornflower yellow or sunshine yellow.”

Speaking of which, is something else I noticed—call me over-analytical but my Arts training has done me well. I noticed that almost all the kids, colouring artwork that featured families and kids (and a cat, for the older group of children), coloured the skin of the characters in the pictures light. As opposed to dark. Yes, even the children who were Malay or Indian (dan lain-lain).

I just found this so problematic and sad. Things are such that these little ones think that fair is beautiful and dark is not? Sigh.


I also found myself asked twice over these last two days, once by a salesgirl at a cosmetics counter, and another time by a DJ at PWTC (I digress here, but why do DJs always put on this fake ‘ohmygod I’m so cool listen to my sexy raspy deep’ voice when they’re at the mic, but when they’re not on it they can talk like a ‘normal’ person again? Gaah.): “So what are you? Malay? Chinese? Mix?”

Everytime I am asked this lately, my answer is always the same. “I am Malaysian”.

This always throws people. “Yeah, ok, but what are you? You speak Malay so well” to which I usually reply, “but that’s inconsequential. I’m Malaysian and I don’t think I should be defined by my ethnicity or my language.”

I always make them uneasy with this…haha.

The DJ-type person also interrogated me on why I couldn’t speak Chinese, because I told him that Jia Xiang (the other WVM Youth Ambassador) was doing the Mandarin version while I spoke in English/Malay. (Gaah. Because!) I was a little offended by this, even though it happens to me so often you wouldn’t believe it, and I told him so. Because I choose not to, and why does it matter, especially to him anyway? Does it make me less of a good person because I can’t speak what society deems my mother tongue?

It’s a personal choice and I don’t think I need to justify myself to anyone.

Call me a shit-stirrer but I think it’s high time we embraced this on a personal level to not be defined in terms of these things. The more we harp on issues of ethnic pride and the whole my-language-is-better-than-yours and all-English-speaking-people-have-forgotten-their-roots issue the more we are perpetuating this vicious cycle.

There’s only one race, and that’s the human race, and we’re all citizens of this same country. So why the labels? Why the need to put everything in boxes? Why can’t we be free to be you and me?

July 1, 2008


Posted in Happenings, Malaysia, My Home, Social Responsibility According to Me at 2:41 pm by meldee

I wrote this letter to The Editor of The Star (as you would) yesterday, but it didn’t come out—am not disappointed or pissed, because knowing me, I won’t shut up about these things πŸ˜›

(And with the recent spandanglings involving Anwar? Mad.)

Anyway I thought I’d share it here, and leave it up to you to make up your own minds.

Mind you, I’m not asking anyone to take sides—just be careful and know that this could happen to you. In a way I’m glad it happened to me, because I am aware of these things—I’d hate for it to be someone who’d not say anything.

And..ahem…I’m sure it’s pretty clear which club I’m talking about.


Dear Editor,

I am writing about a recent incident that had me disturbed and disappointed when I paid a visit to a new club in Sunway. Being that is part of an international chain of clubs, it is understandable that they have certain standardised rules and protocol, among one of them allowing a one-time entry after the cover charge has been paid.

While I understand that this measure is put in place for crowd control, this incident I experienced I felt, was bordering on the unreasonable.

At one stage, I wanted to leave early for home. As I had driven there with a friend and she did not want to leave yet, I requested that she and another friend walk me to my car that was parked some distance away. I did this because I am conscious that there have been too many instances where people are accosted, raped or kidnapped while alone at night.

The bouncer at the exit, however, was adamant that once my friends had exited the club they would be required to pay for re-entry, even though we explained to him that my car was a good distance away and that I was alone.

While I realise that I made some mistakes on my part, namely having parked so far away in the first place, I feel it does not justify the attitude the club bouncer had to deny me the relative security of having my friends escort me back safely.

If he could not make an exception for my friends to re-enter, he should have at least offered to escort me to my car personally, or ask one of his colleagues.He was also rude about the whole incident, which I feel is unacceptable.

I would like to say that this has nothing to do with chivalry, it is more common sense and concern for another human being.

This is a brand-new club that has not even been officially opened yet—while they pride themselves on being the only smoke-free club in Malaysia I think they should also take pride in something as simple as extending concern over the safety and comfort of their customers. If they truly wish to provide a good overall experience, they should remember little things like this count, too.

In my opinion, club bouncers need to take every measure to ensure that the safety and well-being of its patrons are well and truly taken care of, not merely just inside the clubs. Club management, too, needs to ensure that their parking lots are well-lit and have one or two security personnel patrolling the area.

I have every right to go out once in a while to socialise with friends and should not have to live in perpetual fear of my safety. I try to be as proactive as possible but sometimes, like in this instance, I was not careful enough.

I would like to remind other young women to adopt the following precautions in light of my own errors: if you can avoid it, do not drive out alone at night. Always park in brightly lit-areas and don’t stall in your car after you get in—always lock your doors and be on the alert for shady-looking characters. If you have to commute alone, make sure you constantly update friends or family of your whereabouts and what time you are expected to be home. And lastly—never drink and drive.

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 πŸ˜€

February 1, 2008

sign for safety/ hunting for equal footing

Posted in Friends, Happenings, Sad Stuff, Social Responsibility According to Me at 11:16 am by meldee

There’s been a lot going on lately, which while I suppose hardly counts as a valid excuse for not updating my blog regularly, is a truism. I am often drained after work, and can hardly muster the energy to go out with friends, let alone blog.

First of all, as some of you may have read, a friend of mine tragically lost his girlfriend, and many others lost a good friend who was respected and admired, in a bus crash that shouldn’t have happened.

Read more, and sign the petition to up the safety ante of especially those who take long-haul bus trips at Bus Crash No More, a blog/information centre started by friends and sympathisers of those who perished in the crash.

My heartfelt condolences go out to friends and families of the victims, and all those who have ever lost someone they knew in a road accident due to someone else’s negligence.


On another note, while undoubtedly not as somber, some of you may know that I am now working on a temporary basis at a women’s NGO in PJ. While I’ll admit it’s not as stuffy and stoic as I thought it would be, it’s also extremely draining due to the constant rejection I’ve been getting while making requests for sponsorship for our fund-raiser.

All I can say is, if you believe that Malaysia still has a long way to go in terms of men and women competing and being respected as equals; if you believe in the elimination of violence against women; if you believe that obscure laws that discriminate against women need to be changed; if you believe that women and families in crisis need to be helped and have someone to turn to; if you believe that education is the best long-term solution out of these issues…

Please support AWAM’s endeavours to raise funds to sustain their many services to the community. For the past 20 years, they have been behind the scenes, quietly and sometimes, not-so quietly bringing about the changes that we need and so easily take for granted.

The fund-raiser to be held is also in conjunction with International Women’s Day on March 8th, aptly themed ‘Financing for Equality’.

Find more details at the AWAM website, or alternatively, check out the Facebook Events page.

Many thanks.


January 12, 2008

for posterity.

Posted in Happenings, I Wonder..., Random Ramblings at 5:43 pm by meldee

I know I’ve been M.I.A. again. I swear it’s a miracle that anyone still reads my blog (IF people still read my blog, that is, at the rate I’m going!).

But I’ve been busy with work, and anyone who’s started work recently knows how it is: the first week absolutely drags by and you feel like you want to quit but this is the Big Moment you’ve been waiting for and gearing up to all your life (why, employment, of course! We don’t study for like 16 years for nothing mmkay!) and you can’t ruddy chuck a hissy fit now can you?!

But of course I’m not properly working yet *grins*. It’s just a way for me to fill my days and work for a cause I believe in. And I’d be a total liar to say that the money isn’t a factor. I mean, I was willing to work for no or little money, but at the rate I’m going I’m actually very very happy *beams*.

But I am a big wuss when it comes to properly joining the labour force full-time. I know it’s so weird, considering among my friends I’m one of those who started working part-time pretty early but the idea of the drudgery of a 9-5 job 5 days a week 4 weeks a month 12 months a year makes me want to rip my hair out from the follicles and run up and down my street naked and foaming at the mouth.

You get the picture, I’m sure.

This year represents such a big turning point for so may people in my life. Most of my friends have graduated and are working or will be soon; Tim’s got a really promising proposition from the power station where he works at now and I’m embarking on writing my first dissertation and possibly, tutoring…it’s all immensely scary because I’m finally Growing Up.

I’ve also repaid my first RM500 on my PTPTN loan for university *beams*. I’m extremely proud of this as it’s come out of my own money, the little that I have, scraped together from my freelance work (that RM500 was basically 2 months’ worth of writing…eeps!) . With another job on the horizon (styling for a fashion booklet with a magazine),that’ll be another RM400 that can go to paying off my loan.

Ya, ya, I know I’m so obsessed by it ok but I absolutely hate being in debt. To anyone. Including the government, which is quite unfortunate when you think of it ironically. The idea of going out in the world with this huge-ass debt hanging over my head makes me squirm uncomfortably: how am I supposed to go backpacking around the world knowing that back home, I’ve deprived some poor-but-incredibly smart kid in the suburbs a chance at escaping the cycle of poverty through higher education?!

I’m tripping on guilt. But anyhoo.

For 2008 I have no resolutions. Only hopes.

  • That things internationally will take a turn for the better. Much fewer (better yet, no more) assassinations, bombs going off, murders, corruption, natural disasters, infringement of democratic rights of peoples.
  • That things back home will change—away with corrupt officials, lazy assemblymen, sexist parliamentarians. That freedom of assembly, speech and expression will be upheld and the constitutional right of every Malaysian will be respected. That we will bid adieu to the some of the cocky members of the ruling coalition and welcome those who can and will make a difference.
  • That I will be consistent with doing my share of the chores at home.
  • That I will not be too hard on the students I may prospectively tutor and cause them to drop out of the course.
  • That I will seriously ace my Honours year and graduate with First Class Honours and be a kick-ass whateveriwanttobe.
  • That it will not be a full year before I am with Tim again.
  • That I WILL STOP BUYING SHOES. And clothes. And bags. And STARBUCKS COFFEE (rawr!). And whatever nonsense I can actually quite easily live without.
  • That I will not rile my mother up and piss her off for fun. I hope I can find more conducive ways of entertaining myself and remember: high blood pressure runs in the family and that the guilt of ‘accidentally’ killing her would probably haunt me for a good many years.
  • That I will no longer make stupid New Year’s Resolutions that I cannot keep.

Amen. Here’s to the future.

Bring it on, baybee.

December 12, 2007


Posted in Bah!, Dahlings, Happenings, Malaysia, My Home at 3:36 pm by meldee

Again, more depressing news in the media.

The unwarranted and completely unnecessary arrests of several Bersih and Opposition leaders and supporters intending on peaceably handing over a memorandum to protest the extension of the retirement age for the EC chairperson.

This time, I actually personally know one of those arrested. I neglected my news-reading yesterday as I was feeling under the weather, but feeling much better today I did a bit more reading (digression: I really do need to start work on my Honours thesis ideas).

All I can say is that I am appalled that the authorities have resorted to such scare tactics to prevent the public from speaking out against the way ‘they’ do things. Our democratic system is clearly a farce.


On to other stuff, as I’m quite distracted by my incessant and extremely painful back pains.


After months and months, Esther Phan is finally home and in great form πŸ˜€ Hanging out with the girls this morning over our roti brunch and then heading to Sushers’ for the cool air (and clean toilet, heh) to yabber on and on, was just like old times. Lovely.

Expect my updates to peter out slowly, as the Boyfriend arrives in 10 days and I am getting busier and busier.

I hope everyone keeps well and has a good holiday season to come, and that we’d stop hearing so much depressing news about our abusive authorities, dense policies, and plain stupid statements.

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. Β 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.

Β ***

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*

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