I had a myself a merry little Christmas

Hello world.

The accounting nerd here has just finished 5 midterm papers in two weeks. It is Monday again, and it is an inexplicably good feeling to watch Monday blues consuming everyone, because my Mondays are class-free. *grins*

Christmas has just passed. I guess that makes the Monday after it bluer. I was about to go to bed when I remembered that I have neglected this place for a while.

I love Christmas. The songs, the shopping, the decoration put up in malls, the glitter, the lights, the gifts, the trees, the colours. I guess that’s why I like cinnamon, because cinnamon smells like Christmas. Hence, the reason why I like Starbucks, because Starbucks smells like cinnamon, and they have a whole bottle of it for me to generously shake into my Caramel Frappucino. Caramel, cinnamon and coffee – three of my favourite. Ahhh, bliss.

Uh, okay. Back to Christmas.

This year’s celebration was different for me. It involved being with people, in a place I did not live in. My first year in university, Christmas involved watching Christmas movies in the hostel and bursting into tears when I heard people caroling because I wanted to go home so badly. My second year, I stayed home determined to make the perfect egg tart (but failed and is still failing) and apple muffins to bring home on my flight the next day. And now, my third Christmas here, surprisingly, involves interaction with other human beings, and food being served to me, and forking out money for the bill.

I am honestly surprised I managed all that mingling and eating. *proud* lol. Socializing has never been my forte.

We went to TGIF. I ate crusty Tennessee Chicken. Refilled many rounds of carbonated drinks. Got slaughtered, because the standard dropped to sub par (I guess that happens everywhere – an increase in diners but the same amount of eating places, hence a drop in quality and increase in price?). Exchanged gifts. Then took a stroll outside in fear, afraid that random people would spray nasty things at us. Food was average, and so was the atmosphere, but the people were great, and that alone was enough to make everything good =)

Now I guess I’ll have to start counting again until the next Christmas, and look forward to New Year. New Year resolutions? I’m not really a believer, but we shall see.

Btw, Happy Birthday Jesus.

MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! =)

Iron woman comin thru

Today st called me ‘iron woman’. I thought, “really?”

Iron woman or not, I could only have been one because someone dug me out from the grounds underneath. I would never have pulled through without the both of you.

Thank you for being there. :)

PS: I learnt that the song 伴 is a bloody joke despite feeling very much like an idiot lately. Talk about lifelong learning. Hah

The Boyfriend Manual: Lying, cheating bastards

A friend suggested I write this – a manual for the boyfriends on how to operate their girlfriends. I had no idea where to start, but life is a funny thing. It finds ways to inspire you, despite the ‘inspiration’ coming in a rather unfavourable form.

So here goes.

I once read somewhere in someone’s blog, she said something like “when the partner is hurt by the other’s action, it is considered cheating, because you are snooping around behind your partner. So whether you are cheating or not, is defined by your partner. My reaction to that was “what if the partner is SUPER sensitive?” eg: will explode in tears when you make eye contact with the opposite sex.  Then how?

I then thought that the male gender may need a little help in defining where we girls draw the line. Bear in mind that every girl is different. I do however think that I am referring to a majority of the female population.

Here’s my (more than) two cents worth of thoughts.

#1. Flirting with other girls.

This includes every being that has a vagina, and it doesn’t matter whether they are your colleagues or major customer of the China girl from the nightclub you patron. Dear bfs,This is the mildest of all  offences and there is a certain limit you can go. When you flirt without us knowing, it is wrong. When you flirt to the extent of exchanging phone numbers, it is wrong. When you flirt to the extent that you are hiding things from us, it is WRONG. Flirt in front of us, we can take it – because we feel that you have nothing to hide, and to some point it even reassures us that we are different from all the other girls. We are more confident than you think.

#2. Hearing from you is better than us finding out on our own.

Dear bfs, at any time, we would rather hear your confession and apology, rather than having you twist and turn and dodge corners and to let us catch you lying into our faces. We have awesome 6th sense, and investigation and observation skills – we know. And when you lie, it hurts. And when it hurts, we cry. And when we cry, you turn around and tell us that we’re annoying. You see, you’re the one who gets annoyed in the end. Why not save yourselves the trouble and just come clean in the very first place.

#3. Sex with the other woman.

We hope that you at least decide to spare yourself (and us) some dignity. We would like to believe that we chose a man with taste. So before you go sleep around with some whore or China waitress from some bar, please consider how cheap it makes you look, and the amount of risk of STDs you are opening yourself (and possibly US) to. Thank you.

#4. We need time to heal.

Yes we know you’re probably sorry about whatever stunt you pulled after we confront you. And we know that after all the tears and anger and frustration, and you realise there’s no where left to hide probably want to make up because you suddenly realise how awesome your current gf is compared to the bitch you were playing around with, you want to make things good again. And at that moment, we’re probably seeming very much aloof and cold and cruel. We know you’re frustrated. But what you do not know is that we’re trying equally hard to make things right. Feelings are a funny thing; they have a brain of their own. Telling ourselves not to feel hurt, to forgive and forget, to brighten up and hold your hand and skip around and chatter around you like usual is like telling ourselves not to think of a pink elephant.

Time heals. We need that. Because you really can not imagine the pain and hurt you put us through. And along with that, we need to see action, because talk is fucking cheap.

#5. Do not do to others what you do not want done to you.

Very very simple, no? Just don’t expect out of us  what you aren’t giving us. You men (not referring to all men) are always feeling insecure about every little thing and hating all our other male friends. If applied the same way, the rule would say “if you can do it, why can’t we”. But personally, i do not stoop THAT low.

#6. To the friends of the lying cheating bastards.

Hello there. You are accountable. We hate you just as much if you got our guys into this situation in the very first place.

#7. Dan lain lain lagi

Dear Bfs, please just let us know if you would rather date some other woman. I think a lot of woman would rather have no man than any less than one man. We would understand. But to be cheated on and lied to, that we cannot tolerate.

.

.

,

I think females today should really learn to stand up on their own. Earn your own money, depend on no one, because in fact, no one owes you anything at all. Anything extra coming from anyone at all is a charity case. You’ll be much happier thinking that way. It makes you a better person too, because you learn to say ‘thank you’ and not take things for granted.

The best thing (cheated-on and lied to) people can do for themselves is to love themselves. Take time to indulge, take care of your body, dress up and walk with your head up high, despite whatever shit life throws at you.

Tomorrow shall be a better day. Amen.

Dinner!

I couldn’t help but take a picture because I felt that the colours were very pretty.

After having cookies and coffee, cookies and Milo and cookies and milk for breakfast, lunch and dinner, guilt kicked in so I used up whatever was left in the fridge and came up with this – something uh, more healthy? =P

Oatmeal Cookies

I have been wanting to make these long long long ago. Today was supposed to be used for assignments and revisions for the coming midterm papers before I go off and play during midterm break, but as usual, things happen, hence study plans fail.

What happened was that I went to Suiee’s house and she let me try some awesome cookies her sister got her. They chewy and yummy and fruity. I fell in love, and told myself I simply had to make those cookies I had been putting on hold for so long. They changed my perception towards chewy cookies. I’ve always been the crunchy-cookie kind of person, but now I know, chewy is good too!

It started with Google.

I went with Oatmeal Cookies in the end because it called for Walnuts and that was exactly what I had.

These are the sacrifices and they are all about to die and turn into lovely cookies. That red scale has travelled from Suiee’s house since last semester and has never left my house - I doubt it will be leaving anytime soon. *grins* And yes, the can of raisins priced at RM7.95 came all the way from Choice Daily, Kuching.

Then, butter met sugar. I have a theory, that a cookie maker can have muscles trying to cream the two, provided they do not eat the cookies afterwards. Owh, I guess that’s why mixers were invented. Sadly, I do not own one, so muscles and a fork will have to do.

Egg and vanilla joined the family. They intended to breed and create a whole new population of Oatmeal Cookies.

Suiee and Zihan came for corn soup in the midst of my baking session, and I forgot to take pictures of which ingredient met which ingredient after that. Distraction, tsk tsk tsk... Btw, Suiee took this – my dinner, her supper.

Flour and walnuts and raisins and oats came into the picture and created cookie dough!

And then these came out of the oven!

 

The verdict: I thought that it was a little on the sweet side. The oats were too coarse for my liking, but should I have used quick-cooking oats, the texture would be too fine. Chewiness was okay I think, and the walnuts added some oomph to it.

Suiee and Zihan thought the same. The taste of oats was rather overwhelming. But they later said that these were as good as the ones from Subway. I’ve never tried those, but omgee damn proud lor, but maybe they were scared to see me cry. Owh well, there’s always room for improvement.

One thing I’ve learnt from baking is that whenever you see an angmoh recipe, first thing you do is cut the amount of sugar in half =P I did that and it still came out pretty sweet. See, I am capable of learning despite it being a matter of how soon, considering the countless sweet-until-almost-inedible things I made.

Baking is therapeutic to me. When I am hyper it calms me down, when I am bored and emoing it fills up my time, and when I am sad, it takes my thoughts off problems for a while as I measure, mix, and watch my work grow in the oven. The part where the creation comes out inedible however requires a whole different kind of therapy =P But if whatever I’ve made comes out satisfactory, that is when everything that was wrong seems right again. Sadly, this does not happen too much in Kuching because the master of all cooking, mom, lives there too. Whatever I make is almost always a failure to her. BUT, it is a different situation here in uni because my food-deprived Cyberjaya counterparts do know how to appreciate my creations =D Good food is scarce after all!

Btw, I sacrificed a spatula in the process :S Sigh, I never knew cookie dough could be so evil.

Seeing a broken spatula suddenly makes me think of wounds and pain – i don’t know why.. Everyone has different kinds of pain tolerance. For instance, think of a bleeding finger. Those afraid of pain would slap a plaster around it and wait patiently for the wound to dry up and heal. I on the other hand have no patience. Countless times I have offered the bf Double Prawn Herbal Oil when he gets wounds – he screams and runs the opposite direction.It will be SUPER painful for a couple of seconds, but the wound will dry up very quickly, then you will be free to go on doing whatever you wanted to do without being scared of wetting the wound or having the constant annoying tiny bit of pain.

I think this explains a lot about people. Some prefer gradual, tiny bits of pain for a longer duration. I would rather have a quick one – suffer teruk teruk first, then be free from it afterwards. If I were a nurse, a lot of patients would suffer. But it does not make me a bad nurse, because i still have their best interest at heart =)

Goodnight!

Pasta Zanmai: Love declaration & plea

Dear Pasta Zanmai, hello. I am sure you are not aware of my existence. I however have been introduced to you by rather inconsiderate friends (which I am grateful to). These are the people responsible for my 4am cravings for you.

All of a sudden I am dreading the thought that one day I will return to my hometown where you do not exist and will never meet you again, because you see, all we have is this sorry shop who passes sushi on conveyor belts and claim themselves the ‘King’ of it. *grins*

You see, dear Pasta Zanmai, I have had a phobia for Japanese food ever since my encounter with Dengue. It was not the Dengue; it was the generous portion of unagi i fed myself with right before Dengue struck me. For the entire day, I had tasted unagi in my mouth, burped unagi and vomited unagi. I refused to touch it with a ten-foot pole ever since. I distanced myself from Japanese food, for almost two years, that is, until I met YOU.

Although I am still rather reluctant to touch anything fishy, ie: Raw salmon, Salmon, Unagi (gasp! runs opposite direction), I consider it a gigantic step to have actually stepped into an outlet selling Japanese food, and later eating Japanese food, despite the slight hint of fish smell in there, and then craving for it at 4am in the morning. What charm have cast on me?

You relieved me off my sesame ice cream curiosity and you filled that void in me that was longing for green tea. I still remember the crunch of that pizza with oysters and the aroma of simple curry with rice. Those mini sets were incredibly awesome. And it was after my encounter with some other Japanese food outlet that rhymes with sakae, I discovered my love for you that has in fact always been there but never discovered.

So dearest Pasta Zanmai, could I have touched your heart enough for you to open up an outlet in Kuching by the time I return? I am sure there would be many Jepun-neesy people there who would contribute to a profit, because all we have there is the husband of the queen sushi and a few tiny, independent shops. I am sure Jepun-neesy people would love you, because you have managed to make even me, a not very Japanese-culture-inspired person love you. Thank you very much.

xoxo

The Wall Street Event and a cold joke

The Wall Street Event will be taking place tomorrow. The team spent almost 5 hours prepping the Multipurpose Hall, stacking, arranging, clearing and cleaning. Today was tiring, but I cannot help feeling somehow touched by the amount of cooperation that every member present contributed. Also, through the tables crashing down on and possibly bruising my legs (yay i have an excuse to wear pantyhose) and the disturbing sound of chairs as they were dragged through the hall, I noticed that hey, Cyberjaya Accounting Club does have a number of awesome gentlemen around. There is hope for mankind!

I personally feel that my contribution to the event is minor. Hardly any, to be exact. Aside from the few pointless speeches. This event has however taught me lots more. It made me see how important it is to have a motivated, understanding leader who tries his best to take everybody’s welfare into consideration. It is things like these who touch people’s hearts and make them want to work harder. It taught me that as a team, we ought to have everyone’s backs and that it’s ALWAYS about the solution, not the problem. It taught me the importance of leaders looking out for the people under them, rather than turn them in. Last but not least, I got a scary glimpse of the corporate world.

Well, there’s still tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after to continue learning and seeing and experiencing. Hopefully i can cope, as midterms are coming in, and so are assignments. I really do not want another experience with the kind of results that previously hit me. It was a hard blow. The past few days of studying, well, TRYING to study Company Law has been excruciating. It seems i had just found the perfect antidote for insomnia – Corporate Law!

However, today, something made my day. Let me put it this way.

Mood swings and emoness: weight gain (because i slept all the time and skipped running sessions)

Physical wear-out: RM2 – a bottle of A&W rootbeer to quench thirst and reward my effort.

A forwarded joke from my father, whom I feel so much closer to lately: PRICELESS.

*smiles from the inside*

This was a forwarded mail from mom to the both of us explaining the meaning of “Alfresco”. She likes forwarding mails.

> Olive
> Where shall we eat after the show ?
>
> Sean
> What about that restaurant down by the river ?
>
> Olive
> Do you mean the one with peacocks running around the garden ?
>
> Sean
> That's the one. It's very traditional and I just love the atmosphere.
>
> Olive
> And it's such a warm and pleasant evening that we'll be able to dine alfresco
> on the riverside terrace.
>
> Sean
> Yes, that would be lovely. And with the sky so clear we'll be dining by
> moonlight. How romantic !

Explanation :
> Alfresco - An alfresco activity, especially a meal, is one that takes place
> in the open air.

And THIS, is what dad replied:

At the open Kuching Open-Air market (KongSiBoi) we have rats (no peacock)
  The birds are all hanging upside down.(waiting to be cooked)
  Assorted fishes (shells and sotong too) all swimming in ice.(cold water
fish?)
  Plants standing in rows (waiting to be cooked too)
  And there is also a river flowing near by.
  Sometimes the moon also shines but most of the time we have street lights.
  Now I know why Lynda liked to go there.
>
> What do they called it?
  Alfresco..
  Maybe can start a Alfred Store to provide alfresco at KongSiBoi.

Now i shall go study law =D =D =D =D =D

I screwed up, I’m sorry

The day has been super non-productive. Nothing on the to-do list has been crossed out. Clothes that were supposed to be folded nicely and put back into the wardrobe are still strewn over the bed. No research that is supposed to be done has been done. And no amount revision that was to be done has been done.

But today, I did learn one thing; In life we are constantly telling ourselves to do good. To be good human beings, to treat others the way we would like to be treated, to not harm or hurt unnecessarily.

However, sometimes, the one thing needed to screw everything up is a bad memory. A bad memory leads to wrong decisions and wrong decisions lead to agony, on all sides.

Sometimes being mean is unavoidable, and the fact that it was not intentional does not make the damage any less. People always revert to the saying, “it’s the thought that counts,” but really, in this situation I think thoughts don’t matter at all.

Today, was unproductive in terms of my to-do list. However, it has thought me that when either roads lead to damage, it’s okay to bang your head on the wall over what you have done, and later count on ethics to path your way. It has also taught me to toughen up in order to do what is less wrong.“I am sorry” is not protocol. It is the child of conscience and the heart.

I am starting believe that it is not them, it is me. problems like these are forever creeping up on me because I let them. Attitude needs to change, memory needs to improve.

Off to bed with a lesson learnt, tomorrow will be a better day.

Happy (belated) Birthday KY!

I was going to write about the awesome friends I have here, but lets not declare anything, because heck, I still want to keep these friends and it is taboo to declare anything before anything because fate likes to play “NAH! In your face!” with people and prove otherwise, and cause you to ‘bin chee chee’ and swallow every word you have just spat out.

SO, we shall fast forward to a birthday celebration. Suiee’s sister celebrated her 19th birthday two nights ago. I’ve never seen the birthday girl so feminine – she was sweet as ever in a dress, and her boy reminds me of the guy who acted beside my Jung Ji Hoon in A Love To Kill. =P

I hope she has all the fun being 19 =)

That day I pried myself out of my nest and decided to tag along and park my bottom comfortably into Suiee’s car for the celebrating. Beforehand, Suiee made the cake while i supervised as i witnessed sisterly love happening before my eyes. She beat the eggs, and mixed the chocolate, and arranged marshmallows and cracked brains together with Zihan over where to take the birthday girl. Best of all, she did all the dishes =P

We ended up in Sakae Sushi, and ate Sushi King-like food, which was actually a rather refreshing and eye opening experience, and later Gasoline at the Ampang look out point. It was then then I realised my love for Pasta Zanmai, thanks to Zihan, in terms of Japanese Food, and my frustration and discontentment over Gasoline Cafe (am i able to write about this? is someone going to sue me? aku takut).

Somewhere along the way too, KY’s friends car kind of uhm, broke down? They found the problem to be with the erm…”minyak pelincir”. I just cant seem to generate its English name now. We waited by the roadside for all the required ‘procedures’ in order to get the car runing again. I however feel that it is experiences like these that make events so much more special. Something unexpected, but yet there you are, with your whole bunch of friends by you. Plus now, I can proudly declare that i know what minyak pelincir is used for, and where to actually put it in, and that its original colour is not black despite its name in chinese.

Towards to end of this post, I realise, WHOA, I am actually writing about an outing, instead of quirky things that are coming from the corners of my bored brain =)

 

 

 

The Sixth Sense

Sometimes the sixth sense is a scary thing. It is scariest when it has a tendency to be accurate. I am not too sure which is worse, to be friends with someone who has good sixth sense and risk being all figured out, or to have the spot on sixth sense yourself.


Females tend to be better at things like these, they say. I have been told by a few that mine is pretty sharp.
So what happens when someone you’ve known your whole life to be someone suddenly becomes someone you do not really know and did not expect would exist although your sixth sense warned you of the possibility of it happening, but you chose to shrug of the warning, because you thought your sixth sense was just well, something screwing with you mind.


What happens when you start to find that the things you feel are becoming more and more accurate, but there is a chip somewhere in a block of something and it cannot be put back again. What if the chip HAS already been put back but the sixth sense warning sirens are ringing ever so loudly and flashing red lights, again, and telling you to wake up?


The dilemma of those blessed with this gift, is whether to believe it, because it had been right so many times, or whether to shrug it off again and defend the brain from the insanity threatening to consume it by not thinking so much, yet risk falling flat on the face all over again from naivety.

Yes, I babble

Today is result-release day

So what now? Jump out the window? Go jogging? Swim? Go shoe shopping? Sleep? Take the longest bath ever? Scrub the bathroom sparkly clean? Watch Dexter murder someone?

Results were just released. I dared not during the meeting session for the fear that I would cry there and then. I came home and procrastinated all I could before opening it. I guess deep down I knew it would not be favourable.

Sometimes I wish there was a device that could record feelings, because right now, I want mine to be remembered. Those feelings to disappointment, regret, feeling sorry that I probably didn’t make my parents very proud, or that I could not show that I could really pull through the hell. I want to remember this feelings to that this trimester would be a time to make things right. I want to remember so that I do not slack or take for granted. I want to remember to be motivated. I want to remember so I do not regret =(

Petula Clark sang “so kiss me goodbye, and I’ll try not to cry, all the tears in the world won’t change your mind. There’s someone new, and she’s waiting for you, soon your heart will be leaving me behind. Linger a while, and I’ll go with a smile, like a friend who just happened to call. For the last time, pretend you are mine, my darling, kiss me goodbye”.

Difference here’s that my dean’s list isn’t pretending to be mine anymore. It left, and I need to curl up and wallow in sorrow for a little while. Then I’ll get up being thankful knowing I could have done much worse. But just for now I shall go get depressed.

How to ask a guy out

I noticed that my mind is more prone to thinking ridiculous thoughts when I am hungry. Tonight, I thought of ways timid, nice, homely girls who have hardly any friends *ahem* could ask guys out without being too outright and saving themselves the embarrassment of a rejection. If the nice, homely girl is VERY timid, using the many messaging medias such as SMSing, Facebook (not outright on the walls, please, or MSN (but risk having your messages undelivered and causing heaps of anxiety because MSN is crappy lately) would be more preferable. At least the screens do not know you are blushing!

#1. “I’m home alone and there’s nothing to eat. I’m totally craving for Ma Lak Mien at Life Café now. But I don’t like eating alone (must show sad face to gain sympathy). Sighhhhhhhhh. But then again, screw awkwardness. I think I’ll head there before I starve to death. Eh, how bout u join me? My treat!”

#2. “Hey I painted my toenails this absolutely awesome red shade (because I was hungry and had nothing better to do at home). It’s realllllllllly pretty. Wanna see?”

#3. “Guess what? Today I baked chocolate lava cake (note: there must be research beforehand about what ‘guy’ likes to eat. If ‘guy’ does not like chocolate lava cake, substitute with something else). Mom actually said it was good but two people can only eat that much. Do you like chocolate lava cake? If you do, help me eat some?” (then, proceed to meet ‘guy’ somewhere to deliver)

#4. “Have you watched Donnie Yen’s (I think most guys would like Donnie Yen?) new movie? Trailer looks awesome!!! I wanted to go catch the late night slot but I heard that The Spring (this is a mall where MBO is situated, feel free to substitute with any local mall) is haunted so I daren’t go late nights. I would’ve gone alone if I was less busy during the day”. (show sad face)

#5. “Owh, you work in that area? I heard there’s this place selling really good chicken rice nearby. Do you know how to get there?” ….. “Huh? I’ve no idea where that is, maybe you could show me sometime soon during your lunch breaks?”  

*if ‘guy’ tells you he packs lunch to work every day, say “Awwwww u poor thing, even more the reason you should go eat that awesome chicken rice and when you decide to, please show me the directions there”.

#6. Lastly, the most obvious of all – write this on your blog, and tell him you want to do any of the above, and send him the link. This is why iPhones (or any phones with the ability to go online on the move) are awesome, ‘guy’ can immediately check.

PS: I just realized that more than half of my methods (#6 doesn’t count) involve food. FML

Can do today then don't do tomorrow!

Okay, so I take back what I said. Apparently, the not so conscious part of my brain had not been calculating correcting. The only thing it gave me was false optimism.

Only when I started revisions the night before exam did I start hyperventilating and panicking. I was not able to remember things I studied beforehand and if not for the highlighter marks I left on those notes, I would never remember having read them.

I was so scared, that even the mere 30 minutes I had to sleep, I lied in bed hearing my own heart thumping away, conscious.

Therefore I change my mind. When I may have said that procrastination may be somehow good, I now think that it isn’t a good idea at all. All that anxiety, stress, frustration, immense fear, ‘lostness’, guilt and regret was horrible.

However, however… Today is a new day. Exams are over. Holidays are kicking in. And I am a free spirit. Well, a free spirit with heaps to do once she gets home. =P

Taxation and my procrastination theory

I am now approaching the end of my final exams, with one more paper to go tomorrow.

Taxation. The moment that word pops out, I think many students would shudder, and later have a string of adjectives such as “scary, confusing, tiring, crazy, OMG, fuck fuck fuck, difficult, impossible, BACA BACA BACA and etc.” flowing through their stressed out, saturated brains.

The same happens to me, but this morning at 6.20am and not getting any sleep yet, I am not here to talk about how bad taxation is treating me (since I only have to study it now and not feed it money yet). I’ll always remember what my finance lecturer said, which went something like “…when you have a pie, someone will want to come in and take a slice of that pie without giving anything in return. That someone is the government”. =D

Owh yea, I was saying I wasn’t here to talk about how bad taxation is.

I am here because throughout the exam, I have been thinking a lot about procrastination itself. Why do we procrastinate? Why are we only able to stop getting glued to the ever so charming Jung Ji Hoon in A Love to Kill only when exam a stone throw away (that hasn’t happened to me yet, but I am assuming it will sometime later today because tax paper is on 1^st Oct morning) and why do we write pointless posts on our blogs, when we know that when the time comes, we’re going to want to feel like crying and kicking ourselves and telling ourselves that we deserve to walk into that battle field and shrivel up and die.

Then we’ll go listen to Christina Aguilera’s ‘Fighter’ and continue cramming till 6am to sit for exam at 9am (and wanting to cry and telling ourselves that we won’t be this way the next exam – I know I’m not the only one doing that). And then, repeat the whole process the next semester, and the next semester, and the next semester.

I think there’s a reason behind all this. I think there’s a subconscious mind working there, and trying to make sure that we do not go insane from all that stress. Therefore, it MAKES us procrastinate (yeah Lynda, blame the subconscious mind).

The subconscious mind is able to urhm, ‘predict’ the amount of time we need to study and the things that are actually relevant. SO, by limiting our time through making us procrastinate, we don’t have to absorb as much information, just sufficient information for us to sit for the exams.

All this in the name of helping us keep our sanity, because our subconscious mind is aware of the amount of strain that its friend, the conscious mind, that we use in this memorizing-competition is able to take. Procrastination after all, is a form of relaxation. That is, if you do not take into account of being stressed at the same time you enjoy procrastinating.

PS: actually I’ve ditched Biology after Form 6, so my definition of ‘subconscious mind’ is er.... the part of you that automatically helps you get up only after 9 hours of sleep even though you set your alarm to ring after 6 and a half hours. Or the part of the mind that tells you to wake up when you keep dreaming about going to sit for an exam today, which you thought was tomorrow. Or the part of the brain that tells you that you forgot to take something but never tells you what.  I’m sorry if I’m wrong.
SO… I wonder if I have made any procrastinators out there feel better? =P.

I've made a breakthrough !

Me likey toasted. Toasted marshmallows. Toasted bread. Toasted bread and cheese. Toasted bread and cheese and kaya. Toasted bread and cheese and kaya and coffee. Owh, I guess coffee doesn’t count.

Anyway, in the midst of studying I thought of muffins.

And thanks to this very sweet woman who has been contributing to my survival for the past two weeks, who gave lovely muffins to my very sweet housemate who happened to pass one down to me out of her generous heart, I discovered yet another heavenly combination.

.

.

.

TOASTED MUFFINS WITH PEANUT BUTTER! =D =D =D

Cut them muffins into half, toast and sandwich with a dollop of peanut butter. Toast until desired burnt-ness. The muffins were owh so aromatic with a tinge of crispiness plus the richness of peanut butter.

Yeah, I know. Who knew? And now I satisfied half my peanut butter –chocolate cookie/cake/bars/anything craving that has been lurking in the dark sides of my brain for over a week and screaming for me to fatten up.

WHEEEEEEE!  Owh btw, I am aware of the fat consumption that just happened. No judging aights? I shall make it up to the bright sides of my brain that scream for me to work out some other time. Dark side won tonight. =D

Shark Fin Soup & Wedding Dinners 2

Why exactly do people take shark fin soup?

Shark fin is actually tasteless. The ‘enjoyment’ comes from the texture; slippery with a slight bite. But really, you ought to ask yourself, is it really the shark fin that you are enjoying, or the many flavours incorporated into it through seasonings? Because if it the flavours you like, then why not got for some other soup that is cooked the same way, with the same ingredients, without the shark fin. And so I’ve heard of people quoting its health benefits, but seriously, how much are you going to achieve through one bowl of shark fin soup? It’s not something that we middle-class beings eat on a daily basis. Eat more fruits and vegetables, drink more water, exercise and stay away from too much ciggies and alcohol. You’ll gain heaps more health benefits that way than through the consumption of a bowl of shark fin soup.

I think status is the one prominent to the popularity of shark fin soup at weddings. It is freakin expensive, therefore it reflects status on the dinner host. It is freakin expensive, therefore the dinner guests enjoy shark fin soup. Kind of like value for money, kind of eating a delicacy that does not come around too often. You know the monetary value behind it, therefore you enjoy it.

I compare this eating shark fin soup because of the hefty price tag to liking a hideous branded handbag, because it costs thousands of dollars. It helps you make an impression because of the price tag. Therefore you purchase/carry it around.

While we’re on handbags – fakes are selling everywhere. The case is the same with shark fin soup. Because the real deal is costly, fake shark fin is being sold and this is usually mixed with a little of the real thing. This is usually not done with an intention to conserve, but instead to cut cost. Some unscrupulous restaurants do that and charge dinner hosts for the real thing. This is wrong on so many levels I guess I don’t have to point them out one by one. And I’m sorry for eaters who thought they were getting the real deal in terms of taste, health benefits and value for ang pows given.

How do we fix the problem that has been shark torturers for ages and blasting sharks to the brink of extinction?

Simply by saying NO.

If the wedding guests said no to shark fin soup, the hosts are not likely to order it. They would probably be glad not to have to order it from the caterer and having to put all that extra weight onto the already humongous catering-bill after all the money spent on photographs, wedding packages, room/house renovations or buying a new nest, their honeymoon and etc. hosts not ordering shark fin soup from caterers means less demand in for shark fin in the market means less shark finning.

As for the marrying couples and wedding dinner hosts, I believe that awareness rules over the status, anytime.  Being aware of the hazard from serving shark fin soup is way better than serving it for the purpose of making a good impression, because you don’t. The impression you would mostly likely give out is of your ignorance. Shark fin soup has been incorporated into wedding tradition in most asian countries, but that does not mean we must blindly follow tradition when it is wrong in so many ways. Countless traditions have been broken; why not break this “tradition” that brings more harm than good too.

It may be hard, every bit of effort counts – not taking shark fin soup, not ordering shark fin soup, not buying shark fin. I myself used to have second thoughts rejecting the bowl of soup offered to me. But I believe someone has to start making a change somewhere, and if I take that bowl of soup, no one would ever wonder what is wrong with the girl with an issue with shark fin soup and no one would know about the plight of sharks. The society or the older generation may insist on shark fin soup, but that is because many of them are not aware. YOU, the younger generation hold the responsibility of conservation on your shoulders – you should know better. 

When the buying stops, the killing does too. =)

Shark Fin Soup & Wedding Dinners 1

I care about animals. I believe in not inflicting unnecessary pain on them. If you make a sadistic joke on the topic, I will not laugh along with you or share your enthusiasm, be it in the name of friendship or respect. The most you can get from me is a straight face, if not sarcasm or hostility.

Shark Fin Soup.

I have been intending to write about this since I attended a wedding dinner with the bf not long ago. I have intended to write EVERYTIME I attend a Chinese wedding dinner. I just never really knew how. But here I am, finally, and hoping that I’m writing this right and hoping that I can contribute my tiny share to the survival of these creatures.

This looks majestic I suppose. Perhaps that is what the tiny human needs in order make him/herself look bigger – to hold a massive body part of a dead animal.

As a kid, I used to love shark fin soup. It was sort of like the highlight dish during the wedding banquet night. Perhaps I was cute, or charming, or adorable, or lovable, the older folks at the table always let me have two bowls. But I stopped when I got old enough to realize how shark fins came about. Here’s a rough idea how: “…millions of sharks die a slow death because of finning. Finning is the inhumane practice of hacking off the shark's fins and throwing its still living body back into the sea. The sharks either starve to death, are eaten alive by other fish, or drown (if they are not in constant movement their gills cannot extract oxygen from the water..”

Yes indeed, animals do get killed for food. But I disagree with shark finning because of the brutal way they die. The shark bodies are not taken because they are generally of low value and they take up space and weight in the fishing vessels. May as well bring back more valuable fins than transport worthless shark meat that take up space that can be filled with money-making fins, right?

This is what I used to picture when I decided not to eat shark fin: imagine having a cut the size of a 20sen coin. Then imagine dipping that cut into salty sea water. Ouch. Now maybe the shark doesn’t hurt from an exposed cut in the sea water – I don’t know. How about this: imagine having your limbs chopped off (the pain won’t be good). Then imagine being thrown into sea water. Not only are u hurting, you are also not able to move or swim up for air. You suffocate. And just to add some spice to the story, maybe a shark comes along and eats you up, shredding off your flesh, bit by bit. (From my bit of reading, sharks are gentle animals they say. So I guess they don’t attack. I don’t know).

to be continued...

The Girlfriend Manual

The definition of manual: a small book giving information or instructions.

Perhaps that is what life really lacks – a manual. And now, since I am a pathetic, almost friendless, lifeless female species whose life many people thinks revolves around her bf too much, I shall talk about the significance of a manual for girlfriends.

1. To tell you what to do around his friends

Despite having already been in a relationship for almost 6 years, there still are those moments when you do not know what to do or how to fit in among those friends of his, especially when your age gap is HUGE, like mine, and when you don’t know the friends very well, like when he makes new friends or meets old university friends that existed before you did.

i) Ciggies:

A manual will tell you what to do when all of them decide to talk a puff on the ciggy while you are a non smoker. The situation worsens, when there’s no place to sit down or food to stare at, ie: the smoke before getting into the car. And naturally, non-smokers are afraid of ciggy smoke, so standing next to the bf and getting smoke blown into your face ain’t very nice.

ii) When there is men guy talk.

When you’re cooped up in the same area with the buddies, say, a car, and they start going off about subjects like er…sex? Or say things that pretty much belittle women. Are you supposed to act really calm or show that you are annoyed or be a good sport and laugh? Because I somehow believe than men, in the presence of the female species should show a little respect. Imagine if we and our girls spoke of how to measure penis size in front of you. Not too comfy for you eh? But then again, you’re not supposed to shoot down the bf’s friends which you rarely know, are u? Yet, smiling away the awkwardness is kind of pathetic, but it’s manners, no?

I could go on debating with myself for hours… so moving on:

iii) When their friend’s gf’s existence is insignificant to them.

Your bf takes you along to meet the ‘friends’, and the moment they see him, he is dragged off to do ‘boy things’, and you’re pretty much left there not knowing what to do. Your insignificance is pretty much proven by how they do not bother to introduce themselves of include you in conversations. SO do you butt in? Do you initiate speaking? Or do you invite yourself and tag along. But if you do, what if they start talking while puffing? Refer to (i).

iv) What do you do around the friends’ gfs

Sometimes I don’t know which is worse; to be the only girl in a group of men guys and not have anyone to speak to, or when they bring their gfs along, and still have no one to speak to.

.

.

.

.

.

Maybe I don’t start socializing easily. Well I can’t expect everyone to be as chatty as Suiee and perhaps I SHOULD learn to be chatty. But I can’t help being a little intimidated by loud guys whose age are mine plus 6 which I barely know and speak a language I am not fluent in and add ‘sohai’ in almost every sentence.

At times, I would rather not tag along in situations like these, but the bf insists. Sitting there and not participating in conversations isn’t really my idea of a fun night out. But at times, the gfs tell themselves that it’s the time we spend with our guys that matters, and not their friends. Aren’t we just awesome?

Tomorrow morning, I shall be dragged to a wedding where the bf becomes the ‘brother’ to the groom. I insisted on staying back in the room, perhaps to study audit, but he refused to leave me home alone. I think the manual should also include what a gf of the ‘brother’ should do when he and all the other ‘brothers’ are busy getting the bride’s team to open the door for their groom.

A sleepless night

Guilt, fear and frustration makes me wonder if i should just go on and be a housewife. After all, i enjoy cleaning the house and spending time in the kitchen. Seeing everything in order and walking on squeaky clean floors bring the utmost satisfaction. Cooking good food and successful baking gives me a sense of contentment that would make right a wrong day.

Yet, since the new trimester started, i hadn’t even had the time to cook a single proper meal here – too much playing and too many meetings. It’s a 180 degree turn from the life i used to know, where a lot of time was spent in my room. I enjoyed the solitude and solitude is a necessity as a little breakaway from the hectic outside world. But since i found out there is a possibility of finishing uni earlier, i am determined to play my heart out, try new things and attempt to ‘live my life’, before i have to set foot on the dreadful working world and grow up.

We are entering the fifth week, and i still go to every Corporate Accounting class blank and blur. Tasks and responsibilities are piling up, and my brain at this moment, decided that it wants to be super forgetful.

Back to being a housewife. Well wouldn’t it be so much simpler if i could grow up into one. it would have saved a lot of trouble answering questions like ‘what do you want to be when you grow up?’ because i never knew, and i still don’t know.

However, it is a forbidden thought, because since young, mum has hammered again and again and again into my head that a woman must be able to stand on her own two feet because it is simply wrong to have to depend on someone just because you are a woman. Therefore, a woman has ought to have her own career, income, and be able to drive ;)

But somehow, i sometimes wonder if i’m on the wrong career path. I think i should have studied about setting up cleaning agencies or things to do with food =P

So Najib has a new kitten

I don’t read the papers. I’m not interested in politics. I knew because dad called, and joked that someone named his kitten ‘Rosmah”. The prime minister was looking for suggestions from the readers of his blog on what to name his kitten, and many typical ass kissers said “1 M”.

It was pretty obvious to me that he was trying to imitate the US president by having a presidential pet. Perhaps I am a skeptic, but I just didn’t think that the heart was there. As usual, it was a call for votes.

I think he screwed up. buying a kitten was so wrong, and wrong not because he wanted to ‘act’, but wrong because he failed to set an example to Malaysians. He mentioned that BUYING the kitten was a spur of the moment decision – it implies that he never even intended to keep a pet. Either that, or it was about an article a found from an animal rights blog written a few months back saying that Najib does not care for animals and they are of the least interest to him, because animals can’t vote.

I somehow believe that it was not a spur of the moment purchase, but more of a planned political propaganda gone wrong.  Well I believe I know where he went wrong.

He should have just adopted a kitten from a shelter instead of buying it. This is what all animal rights activists would say. They believe in helping the animals that are already in need, and adopting them at a small fee that would benefit the shelter and enable them to help even more animals. It is about giving them a second chance, and him, of all people, should have set an example. I can just imagine all the kiss ass people who would follow his trail and adopt a pet from a shelter if only he set the right path. But I guess he didn’t have enough passion to think that far. Simply picking up a cat this way won’t do, Mr. PM.

I think that many people pick up pets from pet shops or breeders because that is where pedigrees come from. I think most Malaysians carry this materialistic attitude where they put a price tag to everything, even pets. If my local breed dog happened to give birth to 8 mongrel puppies, I believe I would have a hard time giving them  away, because to people, they are dogs that are well, not very beautiful and not worth a lot of money. They see having to feed and care for the dogs a chore. However, if I were to have 8 pedigrees, and I called people up saying I wanted to give them away, I’m sure those who never really wanted a dog would quickly take all my pedigree pups, because, sad to say, they ARE more beautiful, and they have a price tag that is of at least RM500 on them. In short, it makes their owners look good – better than having a mongrel. Which is why, I feel that Najib has failed to take the chance that could help change people’s mindsets about pets. People fail to see that a pet isn’t a deco in the house to make you or the house look better, but to love and be loved by in return.

The Loudmouth

It feels a little odd, because yesterday night, my room was still a little squeezy from two people living in it. Yesterday night, I was sleeping on the floor while mum slept on my bed. Tonight my room feels empty because she flew back home this evening. The kitchen is kind of quiet because there’s no one cutting fruits in there, and the clothes-hanging thingy is off duty, because while she was here, she would wash a ton of clothes at a time and I’d complain there wasn’t enough space to hang them as I put them out to dry. Gosh I miss mummy.

I sent her off at LCCT today because I was worried she wouldn’t manage all that luggage on her own. I wanted so bad to board that plane home too, going to LCCT for the first time, without luggage and not boarding a flight feels odd. I took the KLIA transit back and had someone step on my nerves on my way back. It was a man that was in his late 30s or early 40s and his wife sitting behind me. They were probably going on a vacation and his wife’s parents were sitting on the other side of the shuttle bus from LCCT to KLIA.

He pissed me off because of the way he spoke; typical loud mouth and a brain that is barely there and yet without a filter. He was outright rude his mother-in-law, in front of his wife and the whole freakin bus. All she wanted was a meal and a short break in KLIA and he was yappin away and telling her they were in a rush. He spoke with sarcasm about his mother-in-law to his wife. The whole journey he was complaining about the poor woman, along with Air Asia and Tune Hotel, without even making an effort to hide what he was saying from her. Along the way, he even told her to shut up, sort of, when she opened her mouth. When she spoke (I think it wasn’t even to him, but to her husband) he told her to keep quiet if he didn’t know, said something like “people say you also say. Don’t know then don’t simply say lar, later get laughed at.” Yeah, convert that to Cantonese and make it sound 15 times harsher, that’s exactly how it sounded. Apparently, smartypants knew everything he was talking about. I guess the only thing he didn’t know was that he didn’t sound very clever either.

I was angry at him, but I was angrier at his wife. I was angry at how she let him bully her parents and not say a word. I was pretty sure this was not at all the idea of a holiday for the elderly couple – a trip with their disrespectful, loudmouthed son-in-law. Perhaps, they were the ones paying for the holiday and the two ungrateful bums were only tagging along. I’d refuse to marry such a man. I’d have boarded the flight with my parents without him. But owh well, I am pretty sure karma would run its course and bite that bastard hard in his arse and stick a durian up his asshole.

However, above all, I did learn a lesson today. Humility is indeed important, because no matter how awesome you think you are, there is bound to be someone more awesome than you are. The loudmouth today must’ve thought he was smart, complaining about anything and everything, and taking about things as if he knew everything. But I was pretty sure that at least half the people in the bus who understood Cantonese were laughing at him. Either that, or they wanted to tell him off for the way he treated and elderly woman.

And now, off I go to bed. Entering Week 4 of the academic year, and I haven’t really had time to waste. I’ve been playing pretty hard since the exams ended, and coming back to uni hasn’t stopped me. However, if Week 1 to 3 was a sentence, I guess Week 4 is a comma, that is, until the bf comes over.

Cycles of no cure

Lately, my thoughts have been scattered and the ideas come in little bits and pieces, like the little islands of the Philippines, rather than er…. Borneo? There’s all this philosophy about growing up and people and life racing across the mind, and this explains why I am unable to come up with a composed and tidy post to put up.

It makes me wonder if I would judge my thoughts the way I judge the writings in my diary I wrote back at 14 years old when I read them now. I felt so mature then, and that I understood life. However I now feel that I was just naïve, and perhaps, this is what growing up is all about. I wonder if eight years from now, I’d be feeling the same thing about me now. But I guess the fear of appearing silly shouldn’t stop us from doing things huh?

People age I guess, and with experience they grow. It isn’t easy to stick to your opinions anymore. You would think that perhaps, there was a reason behind every action. The line between right and wrong, black and white becomes even more undefined. Everything happens in cycles, and in the end, no one party is to be blamed, but we come up with a more general answer for it (because we’re rational and also because we are afraid) and say the clichéd “it is everybody’s responsibility”.

For example: as I dropped a RM1 note into the SSPCA donation box today, I thought  to myself, that being led by a new woman, perhaps SSPCA will now be more successful in terms of getting volunteers and sponsorship and publicity. I think SSPCA have come a long way from before, as I see that they now have a Facebook page to keep people updated, donation boxes in major shopping areas and adoption campaigns everywhere. I eventually decided that perhaps this new leader was better than the old, no? but after walking for a while, it hit me that perhaps the old leader was just tired or working and working and not getting much of the public to get involved, and therefore she got tired and gave up. The public, on the other hand, judge her, in a sense that there was news circulating around about her ‘swindling’ the shelter’s money and all. The public therefore got wary and became more distant. This woman then, instead of working harder to change perceptions, moved further away. In the end, nothing got fixed and matters became worse. This is what I mean by cycles. No one party is to be blamed. But one negative action from one side leads to another negative action from the other side.

Another example – a married couple. Husband and wife recently got married. Wife suffers ‘culture shock’ from moving in with the in-laws. Squabbling happens. Husband is stuck in between. Wife expects husband to help but husband does not help. Wife gets angry and becomes resentful. Husband gets angry at wife for acting that way. Wife gets angrier and becomes very self-centered because she believes it is ‘every man for himself’ and therefore keeps all her money and uses husband’s money as much as she can. Husband realizes and holds money ketat ketat. Wife and husband squabble over money because wife feels husband is not carrying out his responsibility to provide for the family. Now in this situation, could you decide who was wrong?

I don’t know, maybe I truly am focusing on the wrong things here, by finding the person at fault. And while there may be no one person that is to be held responsible, there will always, always be someone that falls victim to these situations. In the first case, the animals that stay in the shelter, and in the second case, the children to the crumbling marriage. Theoretically, the solution would always be to talk it out, compromise, communicate. But at times, when situations of these ‘cycle’' have already gotten this bad, I don’t quite see space for any talking and sharing to happen, hence the cycle continues.

And here’s another random thought: ignorance is bliss, which is why we would rather ignorye everything. And when we’re unable to ignore it, we live in denial, because denial enables us to continue living in that fairytale we spin up. But what happens when the truth explodes right in front of your face? Well, different people handle things differently. Some cry, some go insane, some go for retail therapy, some explode themselves. As for me, I think Life Café’s spicy noodles and milk green tea and a long bath worked wonders today. =)

Thoughts from Pre Audit

 

No, no, this time i’m not procrastinating. in fact, i do realize the urgency of getting my last minute audit revision done before i sit for exam at 9am later. i’ve been itching to write, with a gazillion things going through my head.i shall make this a quickie.

first, i’ve been so overwhelmed by exams, that i did not realize that i’m like 11 FREAKIN DAYS to home, to Bullet, to Hero and the should-have-been-there Rifle that i was looking forward to. about that next time, and perhaps a theory about how money makes the world go round, and building the perception of people towards pets, specifically, canines, maybe?

secondly, i think exams, studying, aren’t really everything. i mean, if i really failed at studying, say i couldn’t graduate, i could always go home and learn to cook chicken rice huh? what really is the point when you’re supposed to memorize everything, when in the actual fact, you’d actually have books to refer to when you come out to work? and, besides, from what i hear people that come from the outside of my tempurug katak say, working is a completely different thing. really, students should just pay tuition fees in order to come out and experience life and grow up and have fun before they proceed to live a dog’s life in the working world. i mean, studying, it’s not entirely fun fun fun-you do learn things. i learnt not to leave my cups soaking in the sink since i came over the south china sea. and i now understand how it has annoyed the heck outta my mother.

and thirdly, suiee told me that sleeping with my phone beside me is bad. radiation, something like that. kills brain cells? cancerous? something like that i assume. so here’s a sadistic thought. if i put my lappie on top of a food container i recently saw ants crawling on, would i get to kill those annoying creatures? or maybe cause them to crawl around with a bulbous cancerous head? sorry, so much for the love of animals.but then again, they’re insects. =P

okay, quickie done and spirits lifted, now back to auditing.