I was taught to use my own money when I was younger. Not really in primary school, but it really started when I was in Form 1, right after my father's demise.
I started to love Chinese boyband Energy, hence whenever I see them releasing a new album, I'd want to buy one. However, requests to ask for purchase it were all rejected by my mother, and back then Mp3 sharing was not a big deal. It was hard when you want to listen to music, and it's unlikely that the radio stations will keep broadcasting the same song everyday.
The final straw came when there was a really big concert coming up, and my mother will not budge no matter how I cried or pleaded to her. I was left brokenhearted, so was my sister.
Therefore, I made up my mind, and after having a discussion with my sister, I've decided to....save my allowance.
I do not get much. While the rest gets to enjoy about RM10 per day, I only get RM5 per week to eat one packet of RM1 nasi pedas during recess. But instead of eating them, I silently kept that RM5, and smiled and telling my friends politely that I'm not hungry even though I was actually starving inside. I got the tendency to look at other friends' food which drew really fierce looks from them because in their eyes I was "greedy" for their food.
And what do I do with those RM5 that I've saved? I used them to buy music albums, with their really expensive prices that could go up to RM40 - RM50 at times. I knew I couldn't do it alone, hence I've discussed it with my sister, and that was how we actually saved it up together and buy one album.
We do attend those activities whereby we queued up really eagerly to get signatures and handshakes from our favourite idols. And there are many times we had promised to switch places because they only allow album holders into it.
And the concert tickets were products of bargaining with my mother, by saying that we will pay her with the only resource that we could get other from her weekly allowance: Red packet money.
Yes, that was how we quenched our thirst for loud music and bustling crowds. And frankly, the satisfaction was far greater because we knew we came here via business conceptual thinking.
Of course, there was also the time whereby I went to work after SPM, not to gain working experience, but to earn money, so that I could get what I really wanted: a handphone.
It was nothing really big actually, just a common Sony Ericsson K700i. It was my baby and I cried whenever I couldn't find it. Even till now I still feel the pinch when I stopped using it because, that was the first RM625 that I could afford to buy a phone worthwhile for two years, and with it, countless memories with pictures inside it.
So I dare say this, Zewt's blog commenters who recently go and blast all the youngsters that they couldn't appreciate things, which part of your life that you didn't like about us now?
We could be sipping coffee filled with money we've earned when we're free, like the weekends? Those promoters who stood around, sometimes with high heels, smiling to every customer just to pass some flyers which you will not have noticed and threw into the trash can. Or pouring to every customer inside a hypermarket a cup of fruit juice which will all come back mostly with trash and no more sales made.
That is really thick from Yuppies like you people to look down on us who, I think have better and more careful financial planning. Because we can still enjoy ourselves even as we are students.
Shopping malls? Oh please that's small stuff. Unlike you credit card people who bust it up during every PIKOM PC fair, looking at young promoters, who sometimes had to bare their skin to lure your leering stares into buying the products which are not even ours in the first place.
Dudes and Dudettes, we ain't the one browsing expensive Bonia stores to buy ugly bags or horrendous t-shirts. We are probably paying for a RM9 fruit tea, in which the waters are refillable so that we could enjoy the atmosphere ONLY. At most we enjoy a good movie, or play it up at the arcade. If not, which part of "frugalism" did you see in youngster culture?
So until you people do realised that we as youngsters do suffer from the RM2.70 rise, and frankly really felt better for the drop, because people from YOUR older generation fucked up the petrol price in the first place....
Stop blaming on us for the mistakes. We probably care more than you people ever do in your whole lifetime.
S'cuse me, I'm going to enjoy myself window shopping in Sunway Pyramid later on, which is probably free, plus the RM1 parking fee, and that, at most, RM15 petrol by driving there.
Ba-bye! *bimbotic wave*
The article who pisses Yuppies off can be found HERE, but original content can be found HERE.
And these people are the ones who said that they do not believe in the mainstream newspapers. Tsk, tsk, tsk.
This further proves that we are more aware because I don't believe 100% of what newspapers said.
P/S: Please read this article by the awesome Gen Y blogger Nigel, and please tell me which part of the video has youngsters inside, Kthxbai!
Motivation
Posted by
cDi
comments (3)
I think calling it motivational is the right word.
There is this article which I have by a certain Professor Tai who writes motivational books. I was a really angry kid when I was in Form 4, hence my mother bought one book to teach me how not to be angry.
This book is called "不生气，要争气！". I read all of the articles inside the book. Professor Tai split it into short stories to teach us about the daily lifestyles of these few Taiwanese who shared their stories. And I found one who really affects me a lot because, I seriously did not have that level of tolerance.
Read on if you do. And err, it's in Mandarin, so I'll just upload the Mandarin version first before I translate it into English. Please say "aye" if you want to read it in English thanks.
那是一个傍晚，我很兴奋地骑着爸爸送给我的机车，从学校回家；在等红绿灯时，突然看见左前方的那辆深蓝色的福特天王星，不是老爸的车子吗？
变绿灯了，老爸的车子走了，我戴着安全帽，快速地跟在后面，想给他一个“意外的招呼”。咦？该右转了，爸爸的车子怎么不右转？我跟着爸爸的车子，往前直行。过了三个红绿灯，天王星停在一家花店门前，老爸下了车，店员已经准备好一大束漂亮的花，大概是老爸早已预订好了。
奇怪，今天是妈生日？还是结婚纪念日？爸干嘛要买花送给妈？
爸爸抱着花上车，我很好奇，就偷偷地骑着机车尾随。爸爸的车子居然没有往回家的方向走，而是到了一间公寓。爸爸按了门铃，不久，一个女人下楼；爸爸见到她，就很愉悦的把花送给她。两人亲密地交谈后，爸爸帮她开了车门，两人一块上车。
那时，我的心快速跳动着，又紧张，有愤怒--我的父亲，从来没有送过花给妈，也从来不曾为妈开过车门呀！每次爸出门，都是妈在后面，用小跑步跟着。
“我是学历史的，我一定要追根究底，知道我爸爸要到哪里去！”我骑着机车一直跟在老爸的车后，也深怕被他发现。后来，轿车终于停在一家高级餐厅门口，父亲很亲密地搂着“那女人”的腰，进了餐厅。
当晚，我气昏了，不想回家，但也不晓得该怎么办？我骑着机车在外面到处乱晃。十点半，我还是回家了，一进门，爸妈都坐在客厅里看电视。
“回来啦！吃过饭没有？”爸爸仍然一幅关心的口吻问，并对妈说：“赶快去把菜热一热，给儿子吃！”
“好啦！你不用假了，不要装了！”我扯开嗓门，对着父亲大声吼叫道：“你真的很不要脸！你何必装得像‘好爸爸’一样，你根本是个伪君子，小人，恶心！--”
爸妈被我突如其来的举动吓住了，傻眼了。
“你说，那女的是谁？你干嘛送花给她？还跟她很亲热地到餐厅吃饭！”我几乎是发抖地对父亲骂说：“你这样做，不怕在外面被车撞死啊！你到底是不是人哪？”
老爸听我这么一说，愣住了，双眼发呆，没说话；而妈也低头静坐，不语。
我转过头，大声对妈说：“妈，你怎么也不说话？你像佣人，像奴才一样，每天侍候着他，但是你知不知道，他在外面养女人，你怎么不生气啊？”
爸爸绷着脸站起来，上了二楼房间。
“妈！你不要这么窝囊好不好？你这样省吃俭用，爸爸在外面养女人，到餐厅一出手，就是好几千块！而你，辛辛苦苦在家当个老妈子，一毛钱都没有，这算什么嘛！人家说，老公有外遇，太太都是最后一个知道的，你看，我都知道了，而你还不讲话，不生气！”我气得几乎失控地怒骂着：“妈，你干脆离婚算了！我把姐姐叫回来，我们一定会支持你的！”
“不要这么骂你爸爸！”妈突然开口对我说：“你爸爸对我很好，真的很好！”
“妈，你到这个时候，还说什么鬼话？”我愈听愈生气：“他在外面养女人，你居然还说他对你很好？--”
妈妈擦着眼泪，慢慢说道：“你绝对不能把你姐姐叫回来，她已经嫁人了，不要再去烦她！--你知不知道--我是怀着四个月后---，才嫁给你爸爸的！你姐姐---不是你爸爸的骨肉--”妈妈吞吞吐吐地说着，两眼泪水一直流下。
“你爸爸在知道我怀了四个月的身孕，又被那个男人抛弃时---还愿意接纳我，娶我---让我有脸，还有意志活下去--”妈妈拭着泪水，继续说道：“你爸爸明明知道，你姐姐不是他的亲生骨肉，但是还那么爱她，疼她；甚至在她出嫁时，还给她那么多嫁妆---你爸爸对我这么好，我还能怨恨他什么呢？”
XXXXX
在一个学习“沟通成长”的小组讨论会上，建民说了上述真实的故事；讲到这里，她的眼眶不禁湿红，声音也有些哽咽。他继续说道：
“隔天我起床，看到我爸妈，也不知道要说什么，只觉得，整个家都很‘虚伪’，我受不了那种气氛！”
后来，建民接口课业繁重，坚持搬到学校附近租屋住，而他爸妈也没有拦阻。
历史系毕业，退伍后，建民找到一个教职，也交了一个女朋友。有一次，建民在女友面前，很生气地提起父亲“外遇，养女人”的事，女友听完后说：
“可是，你不觉得，你爸妈都很伟大吗？在你爸妈那个年代，如果你爸不娶你妈，让她怀着别人的孩子四个月儿被抛弃，她还有脸活下去吗？你妈说不定会去自杀的呢？那，还会有你吗？而你爸爸，虽然他又外遇是不对，但是，他早知道你姐姐不是他的亲生女儿，却还是对她那么好，而且还能‘保守三十多年的秘密’，换成是你，你能做到吗？你能做得比你爸爸更好吗？”
女友站在外人的立场，娓娓说道：“你即使不能原谅你爸妈，但至少可以‘同情他们’啊？毕竟他们都背负着三十多年的沉重秘密和压力啊！而且，为什么你爸爸‘对你一百次好，却比不上一次不好？’”
建民脑海里一直回荡着女友的话：“如果是你，你能做得好吗？你能做得比你爸爸更好吗？--你能吗？--”
“是的，爸爸对我，对姐姐百般的呵护与照顾，生病时，爸爸整夜未眠，焦急地看护----‘他对我一百次好，却比不上一次不好’？我为什么要一直骂他，诅咒他，怨恨他呢？”有时建民心中充满着矛盾和冲突。
最后，建民对着学员们说：“现在，我也很后悔，后悔为什么我骑机车是要‘东张西望乱看’，才会看到我爸爸的车子；然后又不死心，跟踪他，看到他买花，又送给其他女人---我是学历史的，我常常很好奇，很想去知道‘事实真相’！但是，在知道真相后，却又后悔---为什么要知道那么多？”
XXXXX
有些人会生气，因为都是“别人不对”，“别人不好”，“别人对不起我”，就像本文中的建民一样，他将别人的错误不断“放大”，却将别人的一世恩情加以“缩小”，甚至是“视而不见”，以致於心中产生愤怒。
其实，只看别人缺点，不看优点的人，日子会过得很痛苦，因为他认为自己是最好的，别人都是“虚伪的”，“错误的”；然而，以建民来说，他的父母不都很“宽容”吗？不都很疼爱子女吗？甚至连不是自己亲生的女儿都疼爱有加。
俗语说：“身在彩虹中的人，是看不见美丽彩虹的！”
似乎我们对愈亲近的人犯了错，就会愈加苛求，愈加责难；但是或许我们已身在“彩虹”之中，已经很幸福了，又何必去苦苦追究亲近如父母的小错？如果“角色互换”，我们能做得比别人更好吗？
倘若始终记住别人的不对，老是一肚子闷气，怎么会有好日子过呢？
There is this article which I have by a certain Professor Tai who writes motivational books. I was a really angry kid when I was in Form 4, hence my mother bought one book to teach me how not to be angry.
This book is called "不生气，要争气！". I read all of the articles inside the book. Professor Tai split it into short stories to teach us about the daily lifestyles of these few Taiwanese who shared their stories. And I found one who really affects me a lot because, I seriously did not have that level of tolerance.
Read on if you do. And err, it's in Mandarin, so I'll just upload the Mandarin version first before I translate it into English. Please say "aye" if you want to read it in English thanks.
那是一个傍晚，我很兴奋地骑着爸爸送给我的机车，从学校回家；在等红绿灯时，突然看见左前方的那辆深蓝色的福特天王星，不是老爸的车子吗？
变绿灯了，老爸的车子走了，我戴着安全帽，快速地跟在后面，想给他一个“意外的招呼”。咦？该右转了，爸爸的车子怎么不右转？我跟着爸爸的车子，往前直行。过了三个红绿灯，天王星停在一家花店门前，老爸下了车，店员已经准备好一大束漂亮的花，大概是老爸早已预订好了。
奇怪，今天是妈生日？还是结婚纪念日？爸干嘛要买花送给妈？
爸爸抱着花上车，我很好奇，就偷偷地骑着机车尾随。爸爸的车子居然没有往回家的方向走，而是到了一间公寓。爸爸按了门铃，不久，一个女人下楼；爸爸见到她，就很愉悦的把花送给她。两人亲密地交谈后，爸爸帮她开了车门，两人一块上车。
那时，我的心快速跳动着，又紧张，有愤怒--我的父亲，从来没有送过花给妈，也从来不曾为妈开过车门呀！每次爸出门，都是妈在后面，用小跑步跟着。
“我是学历史的，我一定要追根究底，知道我爸爸要到哪里去！”我骑着机车一直跟在老爸的车后，也深怕被他发现。后来，轿车终于停在一家高级餐厅门口，父亲很亲密地搂着“那女人”的腰，进了餐厅。
当晚，我气昏了，不想回家，但也不晓得该怎么办？我骑着机车在外面到处乱晃。十点半，我还是回家了，一进门，爸妈都坐在客厅里看电视。
“回来啦！吃过饭没有？”爸爸仍然一幅关心的口吻问，并对妈说：“赶快去把菜热一热，给儿子吃！”
“好啦！你不用假了，不要装了！”我扯开嗓门，对着父亲大声吼叫道：“你真的很不要脸！你何必装得像‘好爸爸’一样，你根本是个伪君子，小人，恶心！--”
爸妈被我突如其来的举动吓住了，傻眼了。
“你说，那女的是谁？你干嘛送花给她？还跟她很亲热地到餐厅吃饭！”我几乎是发抖地对父亲骂说：“你这样做，不怕在外面被车撞死啊！你到底是不是人哪？”
老爸听我这么一说，愣住了，双眼发呆，没说话；而妈也低头静坐，不语。
我转过头，大声对妈说：“妈，你怎么也不说话？你像佣人，像奴才一样，每天侍候着他，但是你知不知道，他在外面养女人，你怎么不生气啊？”
爸爸绷着脸站起来，上了二楼房间。
“妈！你不要这么窝囊好不好？你这样省吃俭用，爸爸在外面养女人，到餐厅一出手，就是好几千块！而你，辛辛苦苦在家当个老妈子，一毛钱都没有，这算什么嘛！人家说，老公有外遇，太太都是最后一个知道的，你看，我都知道了，而你还不讲话，不生气！”我气得几乎失控地怒骂着：“妈，你干脆离婚算了！我把姐姐叫回来，我们一定会支持你的！”
“不要这么骂你爸爸！”妈突然开口对我说：“你爸爸对我很好，真的很好！”
“妈，你到这个时候，还说什么鬼话？”我愈听愈生气：“他在外面养女人，你居然还说他对你很好？--”
妈妈擦着眼泪，慢慢说道：“你绝对不能把你姐姐叫回来，她已经嫁人了，不要再去烦她！--你知不知道--我是怀着四个月后---，才嫁给你爸爸的！你姐姐---不是你爸爸的骨肉--”妈妈吞吞吐吐地说着，两眼泪水一直流下。
“你爸爸在知道我怀了四个月的身孕，又被那个男人抛弃时---还愿意接纳我，娶我---让我有脸，还有意志活下去--”妈妈拭着泪水，继续说道：“你爸爸明明知道，你姐姐不是他的亲生骨肉，但是还那么爱她，疼她；甚至在她出嫁时，还给她那么多嫁妆---你爸爸对我这么好，我还能怨恨他什么呢？”
XXXXX
在一个学习“沟通成长”的小组讨论会上，建民说了上述真实的故事；讲到这里，她的眼眶不禁湿红，声音也有些哽咽。他继续说道：
“隔天我起床，看到我爸妈，也不知道要说什么，只觉得，整个家都很‘虚伪’，我受不了那种气氛！”
后来，建民接口课业繁重，坚持搬到学校附近租屋住，而他爸妈也没有拦阻。
历史系毕业，退伍后，建民找到一个教职，也交了一个女朋友。有一次，建民在女友面前，很生气地提起父亲“外遇，养女人”的事，女友听完后说：
“可是，你不觉得，你爸妈都很伟大吗？在你爸妈那个年代，如果你爸不娶你妈，让她怀着别人的孩子四个月儿被抛弃，她还有脸活下去吗？你妈说不定会去自杀的呢？那，还会有你吗？而你爸爸，虽然他又外遇是不对，但是，他早知道你姐姐不是他的亲生女儿，却还是对她那么好，而且还能‘保守三十多年的秘密’，换成是你，你能做到吗？你能做得比你爸爸更好吗？”
女友站在外人的立场，娓娓说道：“你即使不能原谅你爸妈，但至少可以‘同情他们’啊？毕竟他们都背负着三十多年的沉重秘密和压力啊！而且，为什么你爸爸‘对你一百次好，却比不上一次不好？’”
建民脑海里一直回荡着女友的话：“如果是你，你能做得好吗？你能做得比你爸爸更好吗？--你能吗？--”
“是的，爸爸对我，对姐姐百般的呵护与照顾，生病时，爸爸整夜未眠，焦急地看护----‘他对我一百次好，却比不上一次不好’？我为什么要一直骂他，诅咒他，怨恨他呢？”有时建民心中充满着矛盾和冲突。
最后，建民对着学员们说：“现在，我也很后悔，后悔为什么我骑机车是要‘东张西望乱看’，才会看到我爸爸的车子；然后又不死心，跟踪他，看到他买花，又送给其他女人---我是学历史的，我常常很好奇，很想去知道‘事实真相’！但是，在知道真相后，却又后悔---为什么要知道那么多？”
XXXXX
有些人会生气，因为都是“别人不对”，“别人不好”，“别人对不起我”，就像本文中的建民一样，他将别人的错误不断“放大”，却将别人的一世恩情加以“缩小”，甚至是“视而不见”，以致於心中产生愤怒。
其实，只看别人缺点，不看优点的人，日子会过得很痛苦，因为他认为自己是最好的，别人都是“虚伪的”，“错误的”；然而，以建民来说，他的父母不都很“宽容”吗？不都很疼爱子女吗？甚至连不是自己亲生的女儿都疼爱有加。
俗语说：“身在彩虹中的人，是看不见美丽彩虹的！”
似乎我们对愈亲近的人犯了错，就会愈加苛求，愈加责难；但是或许我们已身在“彩虹”之中，已经很幸福了，又何必去苦苦追究亲近如父母的小错？如果“角色互换”，我们能做得比别人更好吗？
倘若始终记住别人的不对，老是一肚子闷气，怎么会有好日子过呢？
Speechless
Posted by
cDi
comments (1)
I used to think that well, internet advertising, not too bad. Promotion ads in blogs, not too bad. Promoting so and so item on your own blog, also okay. Your blog what, let you do what you want. Your readers will just read any (shitty) content you put up anyways.
But this time this stupid company (both the product and advertising company) has gotten to a new low.
By introducing anonymous bloggers who are lovers. Describing how sweet they are. How they wish that they will only be together forever. What is more, they are only known by their pseudonyms Lemon and Berry. Which I guess it's cool, since most anonymous bloggers have pseudonyms.
I thought it was sweet that girls were gushing over the lovey-doveyness of these two bloggers. But I didn't have time to look at those two bloggers cause I was very busy with my assignment.
Then I was browsing by cun's blog which was also talking about these two again and I was really irked because I realised most of the bloggers who mentioned about these two bloggers were tied to the same advertising company.
I'm an anon blogger, and the first trait about being anon is : You DO NOT freaking get promotions no matter how good you are.
So I actually, stupidly, clicked on the link to see what is the fuss about Lemon and Berry.
And I saw a yellow and purple background, accompanied by a Lemon and a Berry staring back at me.
The Ribena Gang. Starring Lemon and Berry.
They are bunch of fruits.
"Oh LooK! Fruit bloggers! Who sold their sorry ass to write pathetic entries together under a stupid fruit name?" was the first thing crossed through my mind.
Oh and get this, they don't know how to start blogging, but they have their own paid domain to start with!
Holy mother all of Lords combined, that is the most GENIUS thing a noob blogger knew! Could it be that under that idiotic moniker there lies an IT expert who knows how to buy a domain first before using it?
Oh and get this, they have synchronised blogging entries!
Whatever that Lemon blogs, Berry blogs about it too. Oh. Em. Gee. So sweet right? Two bloggers blog about things at the same time?
Ptui!! Are they Siamese twins? Are they connected to each other? Blog together so synchronised.
Please la, I've seen real couple bloggers who blogs but they DON'T synchronised their blog entries.
Bloody hell, lousy marketing scheme la I tell you. Worst still, it puts a really bad insult towards the others. I'm so tempted to say me, but what the fuck, like you'd read this.
But fine, it is after all a business trick. Deception is a business trick.
But Deception will make us hate you people more!
I've told a few other friends who blogs (anonymously) about this stupid campaign, and their feedback was merely "Despicable. Are they really that desparate?"
So fine, you guys could do what you want. You and you. Get all your bloggers to blog about the sweet virtual relationship of Lemon and Berry. Get people to go "awwwwwwwwww" because you tell the attached bloggers to blog about their own relationships as well.
I tell you, I'm getting very sick of the campaign. My eyes are soring. I keep rolling my eyes whenever another blogger starts about Lemon and Berry.
And I wonder why isn't your Singaporean advertising company acting that way. Each of their bloggers have something specific to blog about. Unlike YOU, and your idiotic MASS PROMOTION!!!!
Get some kind of FUCKING system that only specific bloggers blog about certain topics so that REAL, UNEXPECTING readers can get a piece of mind to READ!!!
No, I won't say I was deceived, because I never really bothered to click on the link the first thing I saw that so-called promotion. But I was half-thinking maybe they were really promoting good anonymous bloggers for real. But apparently, their policies remain the same.
Well done, Nuffnang. You've pissed me off more than impressing anyone.
But this time this stupid company (both the product and advertising company) has gotten to a new low.
By introducing anonymous bloggers who are lovers. Describing how sweet they are. How they wish that they will only be together forever. What is more, they are only known by their pseudonyms Lemon and Berry. Which I guess it's cool, since most anonymous bloggers have pseudonyms.
I thought it was sweet that girls were gushing over the lovey-doveyness of these two bloggers. But I didn't have time to look at those two bloggers cause I was very busy with my assignment.
Then I was browsing by cun's blog which was also talking about these two again and I was really irked because I realised most of the bloggers who mentioned about these two bloggers were tied to the same advertising company.
I'm an anon blogger, and the first trait about being anon is : You DO NOT freaking get promotions no matter how good you are.
So I actually, stupidly, clicked on the link to see what is the fuss about Lemon and Berry.
And I saw a yellow and purple background, accompanied by a Lemon and a Berry staring back at me.
The Ribena Gang. Starring Lemon and Berry.
They are bunch of fruits.
"Oh LooK! Fruit bloggers! Who sold their sorry ass to write pathetic entries together under a stupid fruit name?" was the first thing crossed through my mind.
Oh and get this, they don't know how to start blogging, but they have their own paid domain to start with!
Holy mother all of Lords combined, that is the most GENIUS thing a noob blogger knew! Could it be that under that idiotic moniker there lies an IT expert who knows how to buy a domain first before using it?
Oh and get this, they have synchronised blogging entries!
Whatever that Lemon blogs, Berry blogs about it too. Oh. Em. Gee. So sweet right? Two bloggers blog about things at the same time?
Ptui!! Are they Siamese twins? Are they connected to each other? Blog together so synchronised.
Please la, I've seen real couple bloggers who blogs but they DON'T synchronised their blog entries.
Bloody hell, lousy marketing scheme la I tell you. Worst still, it puts a really bad insult towards the others. I'm so tempted to say me, but what the fuck, like you'd read this.
But fine, it is after all a business trick. Deception is a business trick.
But Deception will make us hate you people more!
I've told a few other friends who blogs (anonymously) about this stupid campaign, and their feedback was merely "Despicable. Are they really that desparate?"
So fine, you guys could do what you want. You and you. Get all your bloggers to blog about the sweet virtual relationship of Lemon and Berry. Get people to go "awwwwwwwwww" because you tell the attached bloggers to blog about their own relationships as well.
I tell you, I'm getting very sick of the campaign. My eyes are soring. I keep rolling my eyes whenever another blogger starts about Lemon and Berry.
And I wonder why isn't your Singaporean advertising company acting that way. Each of their bloggers have something specific to blog about. Unlike YOU, and your idiotic MASS PROMOTION!!!!
Get some kind of FUCKING system that only specific bloggers blog about certain topics so that REAL, UNEXPECTING readers can get a piece of mind to READ!!!
No, I won't say I was deceived, because I never really bothered to click on the link the first thing I saw that so-called promotion. But I was half-thinking maybe they were really promoting good anonymous bloggers for real. But apparently, their policies remain the same.
Well done, Nuffnang. You've pissed me off more than impressing anyone.
Writing to myself
Posted by
cDi
comments (0)
Hey ya! My internet is back again! Ta-dah!
The battle against Screamyx was over after a 3-week long gruelling painful suffering of cronyism and idiocy. It has come to an end about 4 days ago, which I've spent gleefully browsing Youtube, blogs, Google.
Sadly, after 4 days of non-stop surfing action, I can't find anything great to read anymore. I can't really comment on the Fatwa because I ain't Muslim (as Mr. Rocky had so politely advised *cough*). I'm currently stuck on the last week of my semester doing possibly close to nothing while just wondering on my activities. And with nothing else interesting on the blog, I'm writing something to read for myself.
I could have want to join the Bukit Gasing Youth Leadership Camp. It should be fun, and it has been a long while since I went out and mingle with youngsters my age, or possibly younger than me. But erm, there are certain setbacks. But I have to deliver the ultimate answer by today I guess.
What else? Ah, the internship. Makes me jittery still, because they haven't called to meet up yet. I really wonder how is it like working in a newspaper. I've been hearing about the long hours, the pressure from the editors, the constant sleazing attitudes in politicians, the weirdos called PRs, but am I ready to take up the challenge?
What's more, am I freaking ready to wear office wear every single day? Urgh!
As much as most lady bloggers love to talk about make up, office wear, hairstyling, I ain't part of that clan. I prefer to have my hands dirty (as in, mud dirty), less is more, simplicity at its best. Those kind. But it's a job requirement so I can't really complain much can't I?
And then that sudden realisation that people from my school are turning up everywhere. Most of them were seniors, hardly any juniors had come out with a bang. I remember seeing this blogger, that blogger, another blogger, a blogger's boyfriend, a worker, all coming from the same school I went to.
The only difference is that I felt that they looked to be superior although it is not the case, just a false illusion due to their exposure of their own faces, and mine without any. But it's great to see people coming from Subang Utama, being famous here and there in the blogosphere. Heck, Hannah Yeoh is from here. That's the biggest achievement in my opinion because I think she's a good assemblywoman, just not a very good politician dealing with business deals. I fear her future could be just this, just being assemblywoman because she's good at caretaking. Lets hope she could have the fighting spirit later on.
It's just that little sense of pride tingling from within as I always passed by these faces not too long ago in canteens during recess, and here I am reading about their everyday lives as they see it.
Sometimes I wonder if my blog (or any anon blog for that matter) was also read by these individuals who although have many activities with that one company, would come back and read something that is not so mainstream? Sometimes I do wonder if showing my face will bring in more revenues but heck, who am I kidding?
I have a life outside a blog. My blog doesn't represent my life.
Hmm, what else to comment about? The current political situation is rather sluggish these days, with the politicians going out of the country for regular business trips/formal trips to study what other countries have in terms of technology.
Sometimes I do wonder what is wrong with Malaysia? As I watched Japan Revealed just last week, about their advancement in technology, and their ability to still practise many other of their oldest cultures around, I do wonder what could we do to withhold what is unique for Malaysians?
It seems that due to the segregation that occured very early in the beginning, we don't have a common culture we share. Ephyon suggested that yes, we do have common cultures of practise now that we called ourselves Malaysia, but it's all modern practises. And it's still such a young country. Plus, our ancestors were here way way way before 51 years ago. What happen before that that we should uphold and continue on before it dies off?
Sometimes, really I do wonder sometimes, with Malaysia bestowed with a handful of the oldest environment around (note: oldest forests, oldest caves, oldest islands), but with a young culture, are we able to put ourselves in the map and not getting mistaken as Singaporeans?
Bah, writing stuffs that are so shallow yet hard to answer. Maybe I've been using my time to think too much.
See you.
The battle against Screamyx was over after a 3-week long gruelling painful suffering of cronyism and idiocy. It has come to an end about 4 days ago, which I've spent gleefully browsing Youtube, blogs, Google.
Sadly, after 4 days of non-stop surfing action, I can't find anything great to read anymore. I can't really comment on the Fatwa because I ain't Muslim (as Mr. Rocky had so politely advised *cough*). I'm currently stuck on the last week of my semester doing possibly close to nothing while just wondering on my activities. And with nothing else interesting on the blog, I'm writing something to read for myself.
I could have want to join the Bukit Gasing Youth Leadership Camp. It should be fun, and it has been a long while since I went out and mingle with youngsters my age, or possibly younger than me. But erm, there are certain setbacks. But I have to deliver the ultimate answer by today I guess.
What else? Ah, the internship. Makes me jittery still, because they haven't called to meet up yet. I really wonder how is it like working in a newspaper. I've been hearing about the long hours, the pressure from the editors, the constant sleazing attitudes in politicians, the weirdos called PRs, but am I ready to take up the challenge?
What's more, am I freaking ready to wear office wear every single day? Urgh!
As much as most lady bloggers love to talk about make up, office wear, hairstyling, I ain't part of that clan. I prefer to have my hands dirty (as in, mud dirty), less is more, simplicity at its best. Those kind. But it's a job requirement so I can't really complain much can't I?
And then that sudden realisation that people from my school are turning up everywhere. Most of them were seniors, hardly any juniors had come out with a bang. I remember seeing this blogger, that blogger, another blogger, a blogger's boyfriend, a worker, all coming from the same school I went to.
The only difference is that I felt that they looked to be superior although it is not the case, just a false illusion due to their exposure of their own faces, and mine without any. But it's great to see people coming from Subang Utama, being famous here and there in the blogosphere. Heck, Hannah Yeoh is from here. That's the biggest achievement in my opinion because I think she's a good assemblywoman, just not a very good politician dealing with business deals. I fear her future could be just this, just being assemblywoman because she's good at caretaking. Lets hope she could have the fighting spirit later on.
It's just that little sense of pride tingling from within as I always passed by these faces not too long ago in canteens during recess, and here I am reading about their everyday lives as they see it.
Sometimes I wonder if my blog (or any anon blog for that matter) was also read by these individuals who although have many activities with that one company, would come back and read something that is not so mainstream? Sometimes I do wonder if showing my face will bring in more revenues but heck, who am I kidding?
I have a life outside a blog. My blog doesn't represent my life.
Hmm, what else to comment about? The current political situation is rather sluggish these days, with the politicians going out of the country for regular business trips/formal trips to study what other countries have in terms of technology.
Sometimes I do wonder what is wrong with Malaysia? As I watched Japan Revealed just last week, about their advancement in technology, and their ability to still practise many other of their oldest cultures around, I do wonder what could we do to withhold what is unique for Malaysians?
It seems that due to the segregation that occured very early in the beginning, we don't have a common culture we share. Ephyon suggested that yes, we do have common cultures of practise now that we called ourselves Malaysia, but it's all modern practises. And it's still such a young country. Plus, our ancestors were here way way way before 51 years ago. What happen before that that we should uphold and continue on before it dies off?
Sometimes, really I do wonder sometimes, with Malaysia bestowed with a handful of the oldest environment around (note: oldest forests, oldest caves, oldest islands), but with a young culture, are we able to put ourselves in the map and not getting mistaken as Singaporeans?
Bah, writing stuffs that are so shallow yet hard to answer. Maybe I've been using my time to think too much.
See you.
Presents comes best when you welcome the second decade
Posted by
cDi
comments (2)
Ephyon kept asking me about when will I post about my birthday experience. But I really don't know how to begin.
What could I possibly blog about when good stuff just kept coming my way? I've never seen so many nice stuffs happening to me in just one day. Never. It is possible that I was cooped up at home for the past 18 birthdays, and with one birthday that me and him didn't get to enjoy much because of his part-time job.
I could start by saying, I was given RM10 Top Up for free by Maxis due to system error. Despite my, err, honesty, the service crew's advice to me was simple, "Take it, Shh, and walk away"
o_O Free RM10 top up on my birthday. Sweet.
My coursemate couple treated me to the, I think, possibly the most worthy luxurious Japanese Buffet in my life. They brought me to Shogun, and the service was excellent. They kept changing plates even though my plate was clean. Ephyon gushed over the fact that there is a real chocolate fountain inside the restaurant and he could take as much chocolate as he wants.
I put my eyes on those food that I would never have dreamt to eat at this age. Example would be, raw oysters. The slimy creature in the shell that I presume are "high class food", something I wouldn't be eating unless I go to J.W. Marriott Hotel, or Australia. Yet I could find it so close to home, just located in Sunway Pyramid.
To be honest, I don't see what's the big hoo-ha over eating a raw oyster. As I took two for me and Ephyon to try out. I even took some lemon, because it is in general knowledge that squeezing lemon juice on the oyster will bring out its natural taste. Ephyon and I took one hard look at each other, and gulp it. It didn't taste bad, but it's just not as exciting or heavenly tasty as what others had described.
Then he was interested in archery, trying to reenact the "Robin Hood and Maid Marian" scene in "Men In Tights", Unfortunately, this "Maid Marian" is a better shooter than he is. But nevertheless, he enjoyed himself and we had all the fun we had. I don't know how to describe it but sometimes it just feels good for lovers who had a big fight the week before to enjoy some together time. It really make things sweeter.
I just couldn't describe more about the amount of surprises that he had prepared for me when we went to that restaurant that I wanted to go. He went to the toilet, and seemingly was going to retrieve his phone, when he came back with a bouquet of roses. 9 beautiful champagne roses. I was stunned, truly stunned because he already had given me a present before that. I am still a girl at core, and I still like receiving flowers, once in awhile =D.
Then after that the restaurant manager kept asking him about "eight seats", and he kept denying it, until my circle of friends showed up, one by one, singing to me the birthday song.
The feelings I had at that time was really beyond description, I remember feeling happy, feeling shocked, feeling really content, it just mixed all up and I almost err cried. Almost, really almost.
Our dinner was really more or less the happy get together. After that we all went to watch Madagascar 2 together because well, why not? It's been a long while ever since we do that.
Then I receive yet another gift by Ephyon. That makes it, three gifts now. And my circle of friends have, for the first time, let me hold something fashionably branded for the first time. I was used to buying sporty brands like B.U.M, Converse, but a famous brand from France? Oh my God. Thank god it ain't pink, but I couldn't think of what kind of occasion would I use that purse. Err, I really appreciate that gift, but changing that purse might take me some time. ^^
After all that happiness, I still get some "Me and You only" time with Ephyon before he sent me home. =D
Thank you for everything and made my day almost perfect. It is ruined a bit by the assignments, but everything else was truly perfect.
The better gift I've received without wishing was a phone call from my course tutor informing me on which newspaper that I will work.
Sadly, Eyeris, it ain't your newspaper =(.
I did think that there's a chance I'd be going there. But errr, my course tutor sent me to another newspaper, and it is one of the Good Choice newspaper I've listed last time.
Now I really believe that life turns when you welcome the second decade.
I don't know if my birthday next year will be as extravagant, but this birthday is truly unforgettable.
Thank you to everyone who made that happen.
P.S: My apologies to the many readers who had been following my non-biased feelings in politics, music, media, and blogs. What I blogged about these days were mostly about my personal life. It's hard to keep in touch with the news when they update almost daily and I am without the Internet.
I wished to blog about Obama's victory but I couldn't because the dial-up was too slow.
I wished to blog about the Congo conflict, but it was gone as soon as they came.
What about the Parliament fiasco? King of Tennis fiasco? They all became old news the moment I knew about it.
It's really very frustrating when I don't have the internet to blog about all these topics.
Okay la, maybe I'll ceased my blogging about my life until my internet is stored. Because I think after this post, there will be a long slumber in my blogging. Won't be that exciting hahaha. XP
Bye
What could I possibly blog about when good stuff just kept coming my way? I've never seen so many nice stuffs happening to me in just one day. Never. It is possible that I was cooped up at home for the past 18 birthdays, and with one birthday that me and him didn't get to enjoy much because of his part-time job.
I could start by saying, I was given RM10 Top Up for free by Maxis due to system error. Despite my, err, honesty, the service crew's advice to me was simple, "Take it, Shh, and walk away"
o_O Free RM10 top up on my birthday. Sweet.
My coursemate couple treated me to the, I think, possibly the most worthy luxurious Japanese Buffet in my life. They brought me to Shogun, and the service was excellent. They kept changing plates even though my plate was clean. Ephyon gushed over the fact that there is a real chocolate fountain inside the restaurant and he could take as much chocolate as he wants.
I put my eyes on those food that I would never have dreamt to eat at this age. Example would be, raw oysters. The slimy creature in the shell that I presume are "high class food", something I wouldn't be eating unless I go to J.W. Marriott Hotel, or Australia. Yet I could find it so close to home, just located in Sunway Pyramid.
To be honest, I don't see what's the big hoo-ha over eating a raw oyster. As I took two for me and Ephyon to try out. I even took some lemon, because it is in general knowledge that squeezing lemon juice on the oyster will bring out its natural taste. Ephyon and I took one hard look at each other, and gulp it. It didn't taste bad, but it's just not as exciting or heavenly tasty as what others had described.
Then he was interested in archery, trying to reenact the "Robin Hood and Maid Marian" scene in "Men In Tights", Unfortunately, this "Maid Marian" is a better shooter than he is. But nevertheless, he enjoyed himself and we had all the fun we had. I don't know how to describe it but sometimes it just feels good for lovers who had a big fight the week before to enjoy some together time. It really make things sweeter.
I just couldn't describe more about the amount of surprises that he had prepared for me when we went to that restaurant that I wanted to go. He went to the toilet, and seemingly was going to retrieve his phone, when he came back with a bouquet of roses. 9 beautiful champagne roses. I was stunned, truly stunned because he already had given me a present before that. I am still a girl at core, and I still like receiving flowers, once in awhile =D.
Then after that the restaurant manager kept asking him about "eight seats", and he kept denying it, until my circle of friends showed up, one by one, singing to me the birthday song.
The feelings I had at that time was really beyond description, I remember feeling happy, feeling shocked, feeling really content, it just mixed all up and I almost err cried. Almost, really almost.
Our dinner was really more or less the happy get together. After that we all went to watch Madagascar 2 together because well, why not? It's been a long while ever since we do that.
Then I receive yet another gift by Ephyon. That makes it, three gifts now. And my circle of friends have, for the first time, let me hold something fashionably branded for the first time. I was used to buying sporty brands like B.U.M, Converse, but a famous brand from France? Oh my God. Thank god it ain't pink, but I couldn't think of what kind of occasion would I use that purse. Err, I really appreciate that gift, but changing that purse might take me some time. ^^
After all that happiness, I still get some "Me and You only" time with Ephyon before he sent me home. =D
Thank you for everything and made my day almost perfect. It is ruined a bit by the assignments, but everything else was truly perfect.
The better gift I've received without wishing was a phone call from my course tutor informing me on which newspaper that I will work.
Sadly, Eyeris, it ain't your newspaper =(.
I did think that there's a chance I'd be going there. But errr, my course tutor sent me to another newspaper, and it is one of the Good Choice newspaper I've listed last time.
Now I really believe that life turns when you welcome the second decade.
I don't know if my birthday next year will be as extravagant, but this birthday is truly unforgettable.
Thank you to everyone who made that happen.
P.S: My apologies to the many readers who had been following my non-biased feelings in politics, music, media, and blogs. What I blogged about these days were mostly about my personal life. It's hard to keep in touch with the news when they update almost daily and I am without the Internet.
I wished to blog about Obama's victory but I couldn't because the dial-up was too slow.
I wished to blog about the Congo conflict, but it was gone as soon as they came.
What about the Parliament fiasco? King of Tennis fiasco? They all became old news the moment I knew about it.
It's really very frustrating when I don't have the internet to blog about all these topics.
Okay la, maybe I'll ceased my blogging about my life until my internet is stored. Because I think after this post, there will be a long slumber in my blogging. Won't be that exciting hahaha. XP
Bye
Remembering Papa: 7 years on
Posted by
cDi
comments (1)
I know I did mention that my next post, was to be how I battle the wrath of Screamyx and Tek Ni Shen, but it was a losing battle. I'm now in FTZ again because my current situation is that I can't even use the dial-up. Those idiot Tek Ni Shens came, and killed my phone line, literally. I can't even use dial-up, can't call out, can't receive calls. Whoopee eh?
But nah, I am writing this because I felt like writing. I realised I didn't mention much about my dad. And even if I did, it was just a passing by mention or it was something negative about it. I didn't really want to go through all the chronological stuff about what had happened.
But today I went to offer my prayers together with the rest of my family. It has been 7 years since that day when he left us all of a sudden. I didn't really do much other than offering the incense. What more, I went around to see how much that lot were filled with different people who passed on later. It is after all, a tower which holds different urns by different people who had passed on. Young and old, some of them babies, they each had a face that the people will remember.
I passed by one of these slab stone to find a woman who's husband had been battling for her urn to return to him. He wrote a letter naming his pain from being separated from his wife, after she had returned to her hometown, and died there. She died without telling him, and as her rightful husband he wanted to go through the rights of law to reclaim his wife's urn and placed somewhere closer to him.
It was disheartenning to watch dramas like these. He must have had a tough time persuading his in-laws, tough time keeping his composure. Sometimes I wonder why a death could make relationship became far worst than before.
Somehow my case was that way too.
I called my mom "Mommy" since young, but my dad was subjected to be called "Papa". Reason behind it being that I've learnt how to call his name by the time I am 7 months old. Unfortunately, that was the only thing I could say until I was the age of 5. I don't know why my mother went to the conclusion that I was being a slow-learner, but she told me my first understandable sentence was uttered at 5, which was very slow.
I don't remember that part of the memory.
I only remember sleeping on my father's shoulder and he carries me around. It was a very nice feeling, considering the amounts of drool on his shoulder. And the countless I woke up crying with a fever, and he carefully placed me at his arm, never letting go till the next morning.
However, he was also a cruel father (at least in the eyes of other friends). He never used a cane like my mother would use whenever the children did something bad. Instead, he used his big, muscly hands, and smacked us till his palms were red. His palms weren't the only ones red as he make us cry for mercy. It was really painful, and it was nothing like a cane. Somehow every beating he made it was straight from the heart, that he intended to make us feel the pain.
Then again, he was the best source whenever we want to go and play. That is because he likes playing as well, and he brought us to Genting Highlands, The national Zoo during its glory, but never overseas. It was my mom's idea to not give us a passport until we were 18 (until I was deceived of course. She waited until I become 18, not all three children).
The best times of my life were celebrated with my dad, but it was also the worst times that I've had with him. After the 1997 financial crisis, he started to become reclusive, drinking beer almost everyday, and he started to think of logic for himself, not for his family. He started putting blames. That wasn't the dad I knew.
However, that revived his political awareness, as he helped in PKN, as he volunteered his house to become a venue for a speech. It wasn't as open as how Hannah Yeoh had campaigned, but were always subjected to houses because the draconian devil, was oppressing on the opposition. He helped out in setting up what would be USJ.com.my now, with many of the moderators who's names I've known since I was young, who still actively participated in helping Hannah Yeoh getting her big break. I was somehow related to that.
But at 2001, he left us.
No message, no regrets. All he had with us was a trip to Colmar Tropicale a week earlier, that last happy moments he has with his family.
As we sealed his urn with a stone slab that bears his face, I realised we've sealed so many other relations.
We've sealed our good family relationship with the paternal family, and they will always remember my dad whenever they see me and my siblings. My grandmother never smile again after that. She never asked about our lives after that. It was really strained.
I on the other hand, without realisation, sealed my innocence and adolescent behaviour with him.
I used to be a very selfish, and ignorant girl. When I want something, it must be mine, if not I'll throw a tantrum so badly that I'll break doors. Countless times I've ripped a good dress because it was too hot (and at the age of 6 bear in mind). And I've tried knocking the door with my chubby hands because my grandmother thought it was to be a punishment to lock me outside. My cries were never sympathetic, always it'll be because of me, me, me.
That time, it sealed everything. Without realising it myself, I "grew up"
Without knowing, my behaviour changed. I don't cry as much anymore. Even as accusations piled up against my will never have I retaliated by crying, because I don't really have any proper good friends to confide into. As everyone remembers laughing gaily over the silliest joke available I find myself always being so independent, not talking to anyone.
It was here when I started to close my own feelings and started listening to others. By hearing them sharing with me their innermost problems do I realised I could maybe be a good friend to them. I shared with them a lot of things but nothing bad enough that must be a secret.
A lot of people called me matured. Too many, in fact, that I kept putting up that role of being the sensible, logical "auntie" around giving advices, making sure they get the comfort, and ensure my ears are always there to listen to them.
Until that blog post, which I announced that I don't want to celebrate my birthday.
Many were shocked with that announcement. Shyam told me to grow up, some others wrote a post about friends, and that I should appreciate them. Many others came to talk to me after a long time.
If it was anything comforting, it could mean my mean streak was coming back. I was becoming that selfish ignorant girl who was lost at the age of 13.
I've gotten so used to people calling me a strong, dependable matured girl, that the moment Shyam told me I should grow up, I was suddenly filled with anger, yet I didn't think much and leave it at that. I was turning back to who I was before, that part of me which was sealed after so long, emerged.
Sometimes I wonder what would happen if Papa didn't die? Would I be here, knowing these bunch of friends, or would I have always be the misunderstood freak?
Odd enough, it was this love-hate relationship I've had with Papa that I found love. I remember they were all going to Kek Lok Si, because Janice wanted to pray to her father, to forgive her for not coming to visit often.
I was really bad. I didn't went in to pray. I was too afraid of seeing other friend's fathers that I stayed outside until they were done. That sort of started my relationship with Ephyon.
I doubt this is really a post to explain why I felt that way when I blogged about not celebrating my birthday. I don't think I need to tell you how I was back then, because alot of my coolest and closest friends are known when I am in university. I could understand if they couldn't understand why do I behave that way.
Then again, it's not a full post about Papa.
It is just a journey of how I grew up, and how Papa's death was influencing the way I behave, and how I am.
I don't know if my mean streak will stay, or would it vaporise and I'll become that loving "auntie" you people love so much, but this is something I want to tell my dad, even if he's not there.
Dad, you used to look down on me because my cousins were all achieving results that would make any parent proud. You shoved to me mom and your results to tell me that I was born to parents who have good results. But what is the point of good results, when I wouldn't be happy?
I'm now studying Journalism, the ONE and ONLY relative from YOUR clan doing so. Others were pursuing Medicine, Science, Engineering, Law. Boring!
I stand out to be one of those who dare to be extraordinary. So what if I could be looked down because in their opinion, Journalism is a "common" subject? At least I DARE to, and I do not have to feel like I'm kept within the line of "goodness".
So what if my cousins finished studying. One of your favourite cousins, finished law, but so what? He chose to work in a band. Does that mean that law was his interest, or he finished achieving what his parents want him to achieve?
I wish you could see me now. To see how I turned 20, with a resolution that the next time if I feel like throwing a tantrum about how friends are abandonning me, the first thing I'll do is ignore that fact, and face the smiling crowd.
I may never know who do or do not wish me with sincerity. But at least I want to tell you Papa, that I've grown up, that I knew how to psychoanalyze myself without needing much help from others.
At one point I wondered why couldn't I have someone who would tell my friends and family why I behaved like that, instead I have to explain them myself. Makes me feel really narcissist, that I love myself so much I throw tantrums, and then explain to them MYSELF why I behave like that.
Nobody could look at me like that Papa, and you used to be that messenger. I honestly thought I found a substitute messenger in the form of Ephyon, but it appears that in the end, I have to explain to them myself why I behave that way.
It may not seem anything now, that you would be 53 if you were alive. But still, Papa, no matter what I knew about you, you will always have the respect and love from your favourite daughter.
Happy belated birthday Papa. Hopefully I would know that it's you when I can see you again.
But nah, I am writing this because I felt like writing. I realised I didn't mention much about my dad. And even if I did, it was just a passing by mention or it was something negative about it. I didn't really want to go through all the chronological stuff about what had happened.
But today I went to offer my prayers together with the rest of my family. It has been 7 years since that day when he left us all of a sudden. I didn't really do much other than offering the incense. What more, I went around to see how much that lot were filled with different people who passed on later. It is after all, a tower which holds different urns by different people who had passed on. Young and old, some of them babies, they each had a face that the people will remember.
I passed by one of these slab stone to find a woman who's husband had been battling for her urn to return to him. He wrote a letter naming his pain from being separated from his wife, after she had returned to her hometown, and died there. She died without telling him, and as her rightful husband he wanted to go through the rights of law to reclaim his wife's urn and placed somewhere closer to him.
It was disheartenning to watch dramas like these. He must have had a tough time persuading his in-laws, tough time keeping his composure. Sometimes I wonder why a death could make relationship became far worst than before.
Somehow my case was that way too.
I called my mom "Mommy" since young, but my dad was subjected to be called "Papa". Reason behind it being that I've learnt how to call his name by the time I am 7 months old. Unfortunately, that was the only thing I could say until I was the age of 5. I don't know why my mother went to the conclusion that I was being a slow-learner, but she told me my first understandable sentence was uttered at 5, which was very slow.
I don't remember that part of the memory.
I only remember sleeping on my father's shoulder and he carries me around. It was a very nice feeling, considering the amounts of drool on his shoulder. And the countless I woke up crying with a fever, and he carefully placed me at his arm, never letting go till the next morning.
However, he was also a cruel father (at least in the eyes of other friends). He never used a cane like my mother would use whenever the children did something bad. Instead, he used his big, muscly hands, and smacked us till his palms were red. His palms weren't the only ones red as he make us cry for mercy. It was really painful, and it was nothing like a cane. Somehow every beating he made it was straight from the heart, that he intended to make us feel the pain.
Then again, he was the best source whenever we want to go and play. That is because he likes playing as well, and he brought us to Genting Highlands, The national Zoo during its glory, but never overseas. It was my mom's idea to not give us a passport until we were 18 (until I was deceived of course. She waited until I become 18, not all three children).
The best times of my life were celebrated with my dad, but it was also the worst times that I've had with him. After the 1997 financial crisis, he started to become reclusive, drinking beer almost everyday, and he started to think of logic for himself, not for his family. He started putting blames. That wasn't the dad I knew.
However, that revived his political awareness, as he helped in PKN, as he volunteered his house to become a venue for a speech. It wasn't as open as how Hannah Yeoh had campaigned, but were always subjected to houses because the draconian devil, was oppressing on the opposition. He helped out in setting up what would be USJ.com.my now, with many of the moderators who's names I've known since I was young, who still actively participated in helping Hannah Yeoh getting her big break. I was somehow related to that.
But at 2001, he left us.
No message, no regrets. All he had with us was a trip to Colmar Tropicale a week earlier, that last happy moments he has with his family.
As we sealed his urn with a stone slab that bears his face, I realised we've sealed so many other relations.
We've sealed our good family relationship with the paternal family, and they will always remember my dad whenever they see me and my siblings. My grandmother never smile again after that. She never asked about our lives after that. It was really strained.
I on the other hand, without realisation, sealed my innocence and adolescent behaviour with him.
I used to be a very selfish, and ignorant girl. When I want something, it must be mine, if not I'll throw a tantrum so badly that I'll break doors. Countless times I've ripped a good dress because it was too hot (and at the age of 6 bear in mind). And I've tried knocking the door with my chubby hands because my grandmother thought it was to be a punishment to lock me outside. My cries were never sympathetic, always it'll be because of me, me, me.
That time, it sealed everything. Without realising it myself, I "grew up"
Without knowing, my behaviour changed. I don't cry as much anymore. Even as accusations piled up against my will never have I retaliated by crying, because I don't really have any proper good friends to confide into. As everyone remembers laughing gaily over the silliest joke available I find myself always being so independent, not talking to anyone.
It was here when I started to close my own feelings and started listening to others. By hearing them sharing with me their innermost problems do I realised I could maybe be a good friend to them. I shared with them a lot of things but nothing bad enough that must be a secret.
A lot of people called me matured. Too many, in fact, that I kept putting up that role of being the sensible, logical "auntie" around giving advices, making sure they get the comfort, and ensure my ears are always there to listen to them.
Until that blog post, which I announced that I don't want to celebrate my birthday.
Many were shocked with that announcement. Shyam told me to grow up, some others wrote a post about friends, and that I should appreciate them. Many others came to talk to me after a long time.
If it was anything comforting, it could mean my mean streak was coming back. I was becoming that selfish ignorant girl who was lost at the age of 13.
I've gotten so used to people calling me a strong, dependable matured girl, that the moment Shyam told me I should grow up, I was suddenly filled with anger, yet I didn't think much and leave it at that. I was turning back to who I was before, that part of me which was sealed after so long, emerged.
Sometimes I wonder what would happen if Papa didn't die? Would I be here, knowing these bunch of friends, or would I have always be the misunderstood freak?
Odd enough, it was this love-hate relationship I've had with Papa that I found love. I remember they were all going to Kek Lok Si, because Janice wanted to pray to her father, to forgive her for not coming to visit often.
I was really bad. I didn't went in to pray. I was too afraid of seeing other friend's fathers that I stayed outside until they were done. That sort of started my relationship with Ephyon.
I doubt this is really a post to explain why I felt that way when I blogged about not celebrating my birthday. I don't think I need to tell you how I was back then, because alot of my coolest and closest friends are known when I am in university. I could understand if they couldn't understand why do I behave that way.
Then again, it's not a full post about Papa.
It is just a journey of how I grew up, and how Papa's death was influencing the way I behave, and how I am.
I don't know if my mean streak will stay, or would it vaporise and I'll become that loving "auntie" you people love so much, but this is something I want to tell my dad, even if he's not there.
Dad, you used to look down on me because my cousins were all achieving results that would make any parent proud. You shoved to me mom and your results to tell me that I was born to parents who have good results. But what is the point of good results, when I wouldn't be happy?
I'm now studying Journalism, the ONE and ONLY relative from YOUR clan doing so. Others were pursuing Medicine, Science, Engineering, Law. Boring!
I stand out to be one of those who dare to be extraordinary. So what if I could be looked down because in their opinion, Journalism is a "common" subject? At least I DARE to, and I do not have to feel like I'm kept within the line of "goodness".
So what if my cousins finished studying. One of your favourite cousins, finished law, but so what? He chose to work in a band. Does that mean that law was his interest, or he finished achieving what his parents want him to achieve?
I wish you could see me now. To see how I turned 20, with a resolution that the next time if I feel like throwing a tantrum about how friends are abandonning me, the first thing I'll do is ignore that fact, and face the smiling crowd.
I may never know who do or do not wish me with sincerity. But at least I want to tell you Papa, that I've grown up, that I knew how to psychoanalyze myself without needing much help from others.
At one point I wondered why couldn't I have someone who would tell my friends and family why I behaved like that, instead I have to explain them myself. Makes me feel really narcissist, that I love myself so much I throw tantrums, and then explain to them MYSELF why I behave like that.
Nobody could look at me like that Papa, and you used to be that messenger. I honestly thought I found a substitute messenger in the form of Ephyon, but it appears that in the end, I have to explain to them myself why I behave that way.
It may not seem anything now, that you would be 53 if you were alive. But still, Papa, no matter what I knew about you, you will always have the respect and love from your favourite daughter.
Happy belated birthday Papa. Hopefully I would know that it's you when I can see you again.
6-month sabbatical
Posted by
cDi
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I called. We chatted.
He couldn't do it my way. He was being helpful he said.
I couldn't do it his way. I won't learn how to tolerate.
The most, I told, was that I will 忍
忍得一时风平浪静，退一步就海阔天空。
That's the best I can do. I'm a born Scorpio. I can't be helped.
Because all he could say was sorry if he couldn't comply, and let our relationship rot.
My wish was that his problem can be solved. That's it. I don't see why I had to comply. It's not like he'll be the guardian forever.
What if he needs to? It's okay. I'm through. Maybe I'll back away. Who knows?
There will be a 6 month gap between me and him. My industrial training first, his industrial training later.
That gap might be widened or narrowed.
That 6 month sabbatical, that 6 month break from all things lovey dovey, that 6 months.
If we can maintain it, good.
If we can't?
Too bad.
Let it come. I want to be tested.
That's it. The end.
My next story is about the battle against Screamyx and Tek Ni Shen. Stay tuned.
He couldn't do it my way. He was being helpful he said.
I couldn't do it his way. I won't learn how to tolerate.
The most, I told, was that I will 忍
忍得一时风平浪静，退一步就海阔天空。
That's the best I can do. I'm a born Scorpio. I can't be helped.
Because all he could say was sorry if he couldn't comply, and let our relationship rot.
My wish was that his problem can be solved. That's it. I don't see why I had to comply. It's not like he'll be the guardian forever.
What if he needs to? It's okay. I'm through. Maybe I'll back away. Who knows?
There will be a 6 month gap between me and him. My industrial training first, his industrial training later.
That gap might be widened or narrowed.
That 6 month sabbatical, that 6 month break from all things lovey dovey, that 6 months.
If we can maintain it, good.
If we can't?
Too bad.
Let it come. I want to be tested.
That's it. The end.
My next story is about the battle against Screamyx and Tek Ni Shen. Stay tuned.
I don't want
Posted by
cDi
comments (5)
When I first started out my blog, I had sworn to not include anything personal about my life. My personal stuff, ongoing, personal, not to be spoken stuff.
However, I would like to pass this message on to my friends.
Friends, I knew that my birthday is coming, but this is one message I want to tell you.
I Don't Want To Celebrate It.
You heard me. I just want my day to go as peaceful as possible, with no bish bang booms, with no songs, no cakes, no presents, no laughter.
I don't know where I get this notion from, to not think of birthdays as a big thing.
But in truth, it is not. It is because a man had to feel special, and chose the day when they made their mothers squirm and struggle to bring them to this world.
It is not the day I want to know how I've changed myself. It is not the day I want to know how I turned to openly welcome my second decade in life.
I'm through with birthdays and I will tell you why.
You people may think of me as friends, but I don't. I don't have friends, I don't have friends who would call me just to say hi. I do have one, and he calls only once in a blue moon, but he always said he called just to say hi, even though actually everytime he called he had a purpose.
I was still hurt from many of the "friends" I've had. Friends who do not go out often. Friends, who lounge around in the cybercafes. Friends, who are coursemates, but never even let me into their little group for empty chats, and only got things to ask me, when there's English and assignment problems.
English, and Assignment problems! Is that my only value in this course? Is that what I was useful for? I'm not frivolous enough so I cannot join in chats of fashion and mindless humour? I'm not Chinese-ish enough so I cannot join in and laugh over stupid cold jokes?
Am I really really really that strict and hard to talk to? Just because I was strict in work that doesn't mean I would be that serious in talking. Are you people really that stupid to mix both of them up?
I remember one sentence, uttered by one coursemate that my standards was "too high". My standards! And I'm a leader who pushes around! And She Don't Like To Be With Me!
No, I wished to tell her. My standards were not high, it was because she wasn't confident about herself, that is why she thought my standards were high.
But so what? My standards became high, hence, no one wants to work with me. They'd rather work with someone else. Or, my communication skills are a problem. OR, I always go out with my boyfriend because all he knew was to be WORRIED with me! When he should be encouraging me to mingle with my friends, even though it was alot of karaoke-ing and bowling. They asked me so many times, They asked me SO MANY TIMES! And I rejected them! Why was I so stupid? Why was I so stupid to follow my boyfriend out all the time??
I don't deserve a birthday. I don't even have true friends.
When I was younger I used to lament why don't I ever have birthdays to celebrate with my friends since it was always a school holiday. Now it is even worst. I bet no one in my course knows.
My little circle may have had something prepared. But here's the message: Stop preparing, and go away.
When am I going to be the priority in that circle? Nobody ever come to me, and go "aiyah, you so weak, let me help you la." No one. They all expect me to be, strong, matured, calm, composed. When they have shit, I shouldn't have.
When my friend is silent, it is abnormal; when I am silent I should be left alone. When my friend is helpless; the whole group went towards her; when I feel helpless, I sought help from the MSN chats.
You ask yourself my friends in that circle, when have I ever become priority?
When?
When the time my boyfriend felt like a piece of shit from an argument?
When the time we were out I was always there listening silently while you guys all laughed away?
And the girls, why do we not talk and chat anymore? Do you people will only be there when there is a birthday?
I understand if my boyfriend's birthday was important. I understand if Islander's birthday was important. I also truly, truly understand if Bloodsun's birthday was important. But I, for the love of my own self and my current life, couldn't fathom why was I important.
I've never done anything important, nor am I too far to do anything important.
Oh sure, my boyfriend. I bet he's the best in this circle. He's the only one who could handle every member of the group, including me. I am rumoured to be "too tough to handle" because I could be very icy cold within minutes. He can go out with the girls when he needs to, he could go to cyber cafe when the boys ask him to. He's the pillar for every woe and joy celebrated there.
Do you understand now?
I know that if you celebrate my birthday it is only giving your face to my boyfriend. You really think I was so stupid to not know? You people will only plan all this because you LOVE Ephyon, not me.
You people don't love me at all. And I know that, from the actions of my own course. I bet you, none of them would go my Friendster or Facebook page, and specifically note down the Youngest member of this class. They would think it was the other girl, not me.
So what is the point of birthdays? Especially mine?
I don't feel proud and I don't feel happy. I wouldn't think it is such a great event at all.
So thank you my friends, for reading this. Maybe it is my nature, but I really want my birthday to be as discreet as possible. Thank you for all that planning, or at least that's what you people want me to think: That you people care.
I've already plan to forget that day's speciality. And I sincerely hope you could do so too.
Lets make my life easier shall we?
Thank you.
Love and Regards,
CiNDi
However, I would like to pass this message on to my friends.
Friends, I knew that my birthday is coming, but this is one message I want to tell you.
I Don't Want To Celebrate It.
You heard me. I just want my day to go as peaceful as possible, with no bish bang booms, with no songs, no cakes, no presents, no laughter.
I don't know where I get this notion from, to not think of birthdays as a big thing.
But in truth, it is not. It is because a man had to feel special, and chose the day when they made their mothers squirm and struggle to bring them to this world.
It is not the day I want to know how I've changed myself. It is not the day I want to know how I turned to openly welcome my second decade in life.
I'm through with birthdays and I will tell you why.
You people may think of me as friends, but I don't. I don't have friends, I don't have friends who would call me just to say hi. I do have one, and he calls only once in a blue moon, but he always said he called just to say hi, even though actually everytime he called he had a purpose.
I was still hurt from many of the "friends" I've had. Friends who do not go out often. Friends, who lounge around in the cybercafes. Friends, who are coursemates, but never even let me into their little group for empty chats, and only got things to ask me, when there's English and assignment problems.
English, and Assignment problems! Is that my only value in this course? Is that what I was useful for? I'm not frivolous enough so I cannot join in chats of fashion and mindless humour? I'm not Chinese-ish enough so I cannot join in and laugh over stupid cold jokes?
Am I really really really that strict and hard to talk to? Just because I was strict in work that doesn't mean I would be that serious in talking. Are you people really that stupid to mix both of them up?
I remember one sentence, uttered by one coursemate that my standards was "too high". My standards! And I'm a leader who pushes around! And She Don't Like To Be With Me!
No, I wished to tell her. My standards were not high, it was because she wasn't confident about herself, that is why she thought my standards were high.
But so what? My standards became high, hence, no one wants to work with me. They'd rather work with someone else. Or, my communication skills are a problem. OR, I always go out with my boyfriend because all he knew was to be WORRIED with me! When he should be encouraging me to mingle with my friends, even though it was alot of karaoke-ing and bowling. They asked me so many times, They asked me SO MANY TIMES! And I rejected them! Why was I so stupid? Why was I so stupid to follow my boyfriend out all the time??
I don't deserve a birthday. I don't even have true friends.
When I was younger I used to lament why don't I ever have birthdays to celebrate with my friends since it was always a school holiday. Now it is even worst. I bet no one in my course knows.
My little circle may have had something prepared. But here's the message: Stop preparing, and go away.
When am I going to be the priority in that circle? Nobody ever come to me, and go "aiyah, you so weak, let me help you la." No one. They all expect me to be, strong, matured, calm, composed. When they have shit, I shouldn't have.
When my friend is silent, it is abnormal; when I am silent I should be left alone. When my friend is helpless; the whole group went towards her; when I feel helpless, I sought help from the MSN chats.
You ask yourself my friends in that circle, when have I ever become priority?
When?
When the time my boyfriend felt like a piece of shit from an argument?
When the time we were out I was always there listening silently while you guys all laughed away?
And the girls, why do we not talk and chat anymore? Do you people will only be there when there is a birthday?
I understand if my boyfriend's birthday was important. I understand if Islander's birthday was important. I also truly, truly understand if Bloodsun's birthday was important. But I, for the love of my own self and my current life, couldn't fathom why was I important.
I've never done anything important, nor am I too far to do anything important.
Oh sure, my boyfriend. I bet he's the best in this circle. He's the only one who could handle every member of the group, including me. I am rumoured to be "too tough to handle" because I could be very icy cold within minutes. He can go out with the girls when he needs to, he could go to cyber cafe when the boys ask him to. He's the pillar for every woe and joy celebrated there.
Do you understand now?
I know that if you celebrate my birthday it is only giving your face to my boyfriend. You really think I was so stupid to not know? You people will only plan all this because you LOVE Ephyon, not me.
You people don't love me at all. And I know that, from the actions of my own course. I bet you, none of them would go my Friendster or Facebook page, and specifically note down the Youngest member of this class. They would think it was the other girl, not me.
So what is the point of birthdays? Especially mine?
I don't feel proud and I don't feel happy. I wouldn't think it is such a great event at all.
So thank you my friends, for reading this. Maybe it is my nature, but I really want my birthday to be as discreet as possible. Thank you for all that planning, or at least that's what you people want me to think: That you people care.
I've already plan to forget that day's speciality. And I sincerely hope you could do so too.
Lets make my life easier shall we?
Thank you.
Love and Regards,
CiNDi
[Insert Title]
Posted by
cDi
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She crossed over a road, leading to the new apartment where she was staying. Concentrating hard on the road where she was leading to to not realise that she was freezing cold.
She did not think that she had to walk all the way back, did not think that her legs will give way. The tram had broken down due to "icycles forming at the electric cable. Situation has now calmed down, but the bus passengers trapped will have to find another way home. Maintenance will be in a moment." It came blaring out from televisions who had just captured them live. She didn't stop to think, just wanted to walk away from the crowd.
It was cold. She didn't wear any gloves on her way back. She cursed herself for not listening to the radio. Then again, "chilly" could have meant something significant. But it didn't for her.
It didn't for any person from her country trying to fit themselves into Washington D.C. And the residents themselves wore gloves.
She reached into her pocket to retrieve a box of cigarettes. Pall Mall, green, 12 sticks. She needed a puff to get herself warm. She flipped it open, only to find it empty. Her last smoke was before she boarded the tram.
Christ, she cursed out loud, before realising that she had unknowingly adopted the local slang. But she still receive many stares due to her Asian features, her long black and slightly curly hair, her taste of clothing, her constant frown. What is the fascination with Asians and their smiles? Jesus.
There it is again, she had been using Jesus Christ as her shield for foul language, even though she hardly embraced the religion. But it was a constant way to swear in this city of "civil manners". The capital of the USA may not be as rowdy as New York, but she still sees resemblance between the two.
She passed by a restaurant, and stopped to look. Cooks, kitchen helpers, busy marinating turkeys with main ingredients. She saw basil as one of it, and was painfully reminded with her friend of the same name back home. Wonder how was his band gigs coming along?
And the turkeys, she wondered. Even though it didn't mean much to her culture, eating turkeys with loved ones seems like a very "family warming" event, in her opinion. And since it was nearing that time of the year, it seemed pretty average, plus, if they do not be quick, they will not finished stuffing the turkeys, and that restaurant is most famous for their big, stuffed, deliciously roasted turkeys.
She walked around a park, where she sees children playing around with mini sleighs, kids who proudly show their parent their snowy achievements. The lake wasn't hardenned enough for skating, hence children were seen trying their best to break the thin iced layer. It may not be suitable for skaters yet, but it is still incapable of breaking with pebbles.
As she was back to the bustling city, and she stopped by to catch her breath. The walk from the last stop where the tram had stalled till this stretch of the city was pretty long. She looked at a homeless man, picking out garbage from the dustbin. She knows the habit of calling garbage "trash" in the country she's currently living, but she felt it was degradetory. The homeless man was seen nicking out whatever was edible, and a bypasser saw the pitiful sight of that tramp, and decided to give him a US dollar. He took the money, and cursed. Thankfully, the bypasser did not understand a single thing he said, which was, ironically Cantonese. She looked on with a bemused expression that a Caucasion tramp could converse Cantonese so well like it is his mother tongue. Then she heard the buzzing sounds signalling pedestrians to cross over, and she did.
She stepped up to her apartment, keys clinking with a worn out spider next to it. And the room was openned, to the many kinds of rubbish she had piled up. The heater was filled with what was already dried up from the previous snowstorm, and she felt lucky that today wasn't it.
She picked up a few clothings, and then switch on her laptop. She randomly checked a few emails, one from her mother, telling her that grandmother finally passed on. Her heart sank, but she knew her grandma has gone on to a better place.
Then she read another email from him. She smiled, and, feeling nostalgic, she clicked on the pictures they took from New York Times Square. That was the only time he went to visit her, and that was three years ago. She was adamant on staying here, and his work commitments are back at the home country. Their relationship didn't go well, hanging on a thread of promise. Her boyfriend (or soon to be ex) had proposed to her, but she don't really know what was her decision.
She had too many secrets lingering here to tell him. She didn't tell him that she took up smoking, she didn't tell him that she's seeing someone, errr, make that, three someones. She started applying for a PR here. The Washington Post decided to make her Head Journalist. And she wondered why she carried on harbouring hopes on something she will lose anyway? And damn it, why isn't he seeing someone else yet?
All these pent up frustrations continued to sting her eyes, and she took out a mini bottle of Kahlua to take a sip. Then, she unraveled her new box of Pall Mall, and with a light click, smoke was coming out of her mouth. Humming to a new tune, she started typing away before she submit another article. Hopefully this time, she gets a Pulitzer.
She was embracing Loneliness, and she liked it.
She did not think that she had to walk all the way back, did not think that her legs will give way. The tram had broken down due to "icycles forming at the electric cable. Situation has now calmed down, but the bus passengers trapped will have to find another way home. Maintenance will be in a moment." It came blaring out from televisions who had just captured them live. She didn't stop to think, just wanted to walk away from the crowd.
It was cold. She didn't wear any gloves on her way back. She cursed herself for not listening to the radio. Then again, "chilly" could have meant something significant. But it didn't for her.
It didn't for any person from her country trying to fit themselves into Washington D.C. And the residents themselves wore gloves.
She reached into her pocket to retrieve a box of cigarettes. Pall Mall, green, 12 sticks. She needed a puff to get herself warm. She flipped it open, only to find it empty. Her last smoke was before she boarded the tram.
Christ, she cursed out loud, before realising that she had unknowingly adopted the local slang. But she still receive many stares due to her Asian features, her long black and slightly curly hair, her taste of clothing, her constant frown. What is the fascination with Asians and their smiles? Jesus.
There it is again, she had been using Jesus Christ as her shield for foul language, even though she hardly embraced the religion. But it was a constant way to swear in this city of "civil manners". The capital of the USA may not be as rowdy as New York, but she still sees resemblance between the two.
She passed by a restaurant, and stopped to look. Cooks, kitchen helpers, busy marinating turkeys with main ingredients. She saw basil as one of it, and was painfully reminded with her friend of the same name back home. Wonder how was his band gigs coming along?
And the turkeys, she wondered. Even though it didn't mean much to her culture, eating turkeys with loved ones seems like a very "family warming" event, in her opinion. And since it was nearing that time of the year, it seemed pretty average, plus, if they do not be quick, they will not finished stuffing the turkeys, and that restaurant is most famous for their big, stuffed, deliciously roasted turkeys.
She walked around a park, where she sees children playing around with mini sleighs, kids who proudly show their parent their snowy achievements. The lake wasn't hardenned enough for skating, hence children were seen trying their best to break the thin iced layer. It may not be suitable for skaters yet, but it is still incapable of breaking with pebbles.
As she was back to the bustling city, and she stopped by to catch her breath. The walk from the last stop where the tram had stalled till this stretch of the city was pretty long. She looked at a homeless man, picking out garbage from the dustbin. She knows the habit of calling garbage "trash" in the country she's currently living, but she felt it was degradetory. The homeless man was seen nicking out whatever was edible, and a bypasser saw the pitiful sight of that tramp, and decided to give him a US dollar. He took the money, and cursed. Thankfully, the bypasser did not understand a single thing he said, which was, ironically Cantonese. She looked on with a bemused expression that a Caucasion tramp could converse Cantonese so well like it is his mother tongue. Then she heard the buzzing sounds signalling pedestrians to cross over, and she did.
She stepped up to her apartment, keys clinking with a worn out spider next to it. And the room was openned, to the many kinds of rubbish she had piled up. The heater was filled with what was already dried up from the previous snowstorm, and she felt lucky that today wasn't it.
She picked up a few clothings, and then switch on her laptop. She randomly checked a few emails, one from her mother, telling her that grandmother finally passed on. Her heart sank, but she knew her grandma has gone on to a better place.
Then she read another email from him. She smiled, and, feeling nostalgic, she clicked on the pictures they took from New York Times Square. That was the only time he went to visit her, and that was three years ago. She was adamant on staying here, and his work commitments are back at the home country. Their relationship didn't go well, hanging on a thread of promise. Her boyfriend (or soon to be ex) had proposed to her, but she don't really know what was her decision.
She had too many secrets lingering here to tell him. She didn't tell him that she took up smoking, she didn't tell him that she's seeing someone, errr, make that, three someones. She started applying for a PR here. The Washington Post decided to make her Head Journalist. And she wondered why she carried on harbouring hopes on something she will lose anyway? And damn it, why isn't he seeing someone else yet?
All these pent up frustrations continued to sting her eyes, and she took out a mini bottle of Kahlua to take a sip. Then, she unraveled her new box of Pall Mall, and with a light click, smoke was coming out of her mouth. Humming to a new tune, she started typing away before she submit another article. Hopefully this time, she gets a Pulitzer.
She was embracing Loneliness, and she liked it.
The Whys
Posted by
cDi
comments (0)
Why do I hate liars? Black and white liars?
Why are blog haters pricks? And blog supporters idiots?
Why some people try very hard to make themselves look intelligent?
Why can't I write a good feature with uses of melancholy, destructive sentences, tuning into despair, wallowing through the darkness? Why can't I write like Basil, who changes a simple, common terminology like "Chilli sauce" into the beautiful word called "condiments"?
Why keep a blog when you want to keep your lives private?
Why bother when you can't be bothered?
Why commit suicide when you can just quit your blog?
Why some people come online with nothing to do?
Why does the New York Times have a readability of 9.2 and The Star is only 2.0? (highest point is 10. Readability = difficulty in reading)
Why am I in Journalism?
Why is it that some people are still passive jerks when they are almost close to obliteration?
Why do we need Pendidikan Moral?
Why do you promote your blog to the whole world, but when a parent gave a suggestion, you show it to the world, causing every other genius and smarter, matured people to not go and comment in your blog?
Why do you discuss about Barack Obama when obviously Three Quarters of your commenters turn out to be tweens who do not give a fucking damn?
Why blog when you can write?
Why do I love and hate the relationships between Newspapers and New Media?
Why do I love and hate Rocky Bru?
Why am I asking these questions?
Why won't I reveal my identity even though I can if I want to?
Why do I blog?
Why?
Why are blog haters pricks? And blog supporters idiots?
Why some people try very hard to make themselves look intelligent?
Why can't I write a good feature with uses of melancholy, destructive sentences, tuning into despair, wallowing through the darkness? Why can't I write like Basil, who changes a simple, common terminology like "Chilli sauce" into the beautiful word called "condiments"?
Why keep a blog when you want to keep your lives private?
Why bother when you can't be bothered?
Why commit suicide when you can just quit your blog?
Why some people come online with nothing to do?
Why does the New York Times have a readability of 9.2 and The Star is only 2.0? (highest point is 10. Readability = difficulty in reading)
Why am I in Journalism?
Why is it that some people are still passive jerks when they are almost close to obliteration?
Why do we need Pendidikan Moral?
Why do you promote your blog to the whole world, but when a parent gave a suggestion, you show it to the world, causing every other genius and smarter, matured people to not go and comment in your blog?
Why do you discuss about Barack Obama when obviously Three Quarters of your commenters turn out to be tweens who do not give a fucking damn?
Why blog when you can write?
Why do I love and hate the relationships between Newspapers and New Media?
Why do I love and hate Rocky Bru?
Why am I asking these questions?
Why won't I reveal my identity even though I can if I want to?
Why do I blog?
Why?
Hey guys.....
Posted by
cDi
comments (0)
I'm FUCKING back!
No not really.
Internet is still down at home, I'm sitting in the most famous internet cafe that made Subang Jaya extremely popular among ravenous males that wants to curb their lustatious desires to kill. And eat.
Yeap, the (in)famous FTZ.
I've been dilligently calling Streamyx for the past 2 weeks that they have already know my name even pronouncing it from backwards.
IDNIC. My name is IDNIC!
They did send a technician over to help check my line status. Then, they send ANOTHER technician in charge of the wiring.
Why the hell do you need TWO technicians to do a job which covers everything in Electronic Engineering? (Might I add, my friend said it was the BASIC!)
But the WIRING technician didn't do a good job! And then today, they have sent LINE STATUS technician over to check my line status. Still suck. He said he had to file a report.
My mom asked "Can't you just call the other guy?"
"No. I have to file a different report before I can do so"
"He doesn't have a handphone?"
"Not that I know of."
-__________-
Colleagues. And he have no idea how to contact the second guy. What The Fuck.
But I had been tempted to tell him "A nutless monkey can do your job!"
I'm so out of date in scandals and internet gossip! Please bring me up to date!
At least Streamyx is more systematic this time. They didn't put some noob into work. Yayness.
Of course, my purpose of being here is not just to satisfy my Internet needs. I need to complete my two assignments pronto.
So see you. Ta.
No not really.
Internet is still down at home, I'm sitting in the most famous internet cafe that made Subang Jaya extremely popular among ravenous males that wants to curb their lustatious desires to kill. And eat.
Yeap, the (in)famous FTZ.
I've been dilligently calling Streamyx for the past 2 weeks that they have already know my name even pronouncing it from backwards.
IDNIC. My name is IDNIC!
They did send a technician over to help check my line status. Then, they send ANOTHER technician in charge of the wiring.
Why the hell do you need TWO technicians to do a job which covers everything in Electronic Engineering? (Might I add, my friend said it was the BASIC!)
But the WIRING technician didn't do a good job! And then today, they have sent LINE STATUS technician over to check my line status. Still suck. He said he had to file a report.
My mom asked "Can't you just call the other guy?"
"No. I have to file a different report before I can do so"
"He doesn't have a handphone?"
"Not that I know of."
-__________-
Colleagues. And he have no idea how to contact the second guy. What The Fuck.
But I had been tempted to tell him "A nutless monkey can do your job!"
I'm so out of date in scandals and internet gossip! Please bring me up to date!
At least Streamyx is more systematic this time. They didn't put some noob into work. Yayness.
Of course, my purpose of being here is not just to satisfy my Internet needs. I need to complete my two assignments pronto.
So see you. Ta.
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