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.

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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.

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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.