Showing posts with label home. Show all posts
Showing posts with label home. Show all posts

Thanksgiving

November 24, 2009 | Published in , | 6 comments

In general, I definitely think people in Malaysia don't say thank you enough. I've heard this rant no less than a hundred and twelve times in my life from my grandfather who gets irate whenever people don't say thank you - he always says thank you. This is why - out of pure habit - every time I get out of someone else's car, I always say thank you to the person who has driven me home. I always say thank you to the person who's just done me a service, be it give me my kopi peng, hand me some change, hold open the door for me etc. Granted, I may be a grumpy person, but that doesn't mean I forget a simple monosyllabic "thanks" or "please" every time somebody has done something small for me.

If I'm rude, it probably just means I either a) have a face problem with you or b) don't like you - at all :)

It goes without saying that ang mohs are infinitely more polite when it comes to simple manners; their sentences typically end with "have a nice day!" or "have a good night". You'd be amazed at how much better you feel as a customer and person afterwards even though you may have just bought about twenty dollars worth of unnecessary candy (I've been stressed).

Since this is my first Thanksgiving here, I thought I'd be extra nice. Here are some things I am thankful for:

1. my underappreciated and overabused family back home
2. my similarly treated friends the world over - I'm only mean because I love you and so you'll remember me always. I hope, anyway.
2. my partner in crime in Boston who gets the worst treatment by far; he only shuts up because he has to.
4. computers and the WWW
5. sam edelman zoe boots
6. james hetfield
7. frozen yogurt
8. the fact that i can, if i so wish, eat my grandma's laksa and char kway teow simultaneously when i'm back home

Happy Thanksgiving!

If you've been reading this blog and/or my notes consistently, more power to you ^^ Email me and I'll send you a postcard. I really do like sending out postcards - when I remember!

pitfall

November 20, 2009 | Published in , | 2 comments

I don't usually fall sick; I like to say that I am a hale and healthy person, one who exercises three or four times a week on average and was once capable of running 10 km in under an hour without having to do too much training. I don't remember the last time I was bedridden, coughing and being brought to tears every five minutes like a baby choking on Lego part. Crying and sickness are both the same to me: deathly weakness. The slightest infection and boom bang bang good as dead. I have been stuck in a drug-induced fog, half-dreaming of little white roads that lead to nowhere plagued with the inherent oh god what am i missing in class today how much more reading do i have to do? there is no end to the path I'm taking and I drop down and sit quietly cross legged on the ground like a little girl and I cry and I cry. make it stop, i say. make it go away.

it's times like these when you miss your family and those closest to you the most, so much so that you hole yourself up and refuse to see anyone the whole week. if i were at home, i'd have crackers on the tackiest plastic banana leaf plate and my mug of unsweetened Milo in the twenty-year-old black octagon shaped mug, the shape of which I found so fascinating as a child. i'd have white porridge and soy sauce and pickled cabbage and fried eggs that my grandma would specially make for me. she would barge into my room and ask me questions about how i'm doing every 5 minutes and then run back out again. long story short, why the fuck did i ever leave home again?

everyone i know around here is often quite fascinated with how i'm not actually from London but actually just study there - which sort of makes me on exchange with two places if you think about it properly. i only got to see my family once every 3 months or 6 months. this year i won't be seeing them for 9. it'll only be another 6 before i go home again in june. the first quarter has flown by and it doesn't even feel like i've blinked once. my eyes are dry from capturing all the action and inaction of an American life. yeah, i slave at the lab, i work 7 hours in the library on quite lot of days because it's my last year and i'm not fucking it up again for the 4th time but i've also had some amazing times here: the endless stream of parties, the alco, the weird costumes, the odd spontaneous activity or two, eating every kind of American cereal, the jetset life. i look forward to the rest of them and the rest of my life.

oftentimes i catch myself muttering, 加油 加油！

What Am I?

November 07, 2009 | Published in , | 1 comments

< *whine >

So, the other day I had a random girl come up to me asking if I am Singaporean because she'd heard me talking on the phone. I laughed and said, "No, I'm Malaysian", but she was really excited because she'd grown up in Singapore but literally lived in America all her life etc. I didn't think much of this until later on at night. It triggered an avalanche of thoughts which ultimately begged the question: what am I?

I'm Malaysian Chinese, but I almost don't speak Chinese at all; English is my first language; I went to an international school in the same place for 15 years, so that doesn't make me a Third Culture Kid; I say "lah" and "leh" and "lor" pretty often if surrounded by the correct crowd; I studied in London for 3 years, and now I'm in the US; I'm pretty well versed in Western culture, English literature and Western history, but have a near zero knowledge of my country's history; I come from a family of - for lack of a better word - anglophiles (my grandfather speaks Queen's English - and when I say Queen's English I suspect he may have a better grasp of the English language than the Queen herself).

I've always been ashamed of my inability to communicate in Mandarin or Cantonese properly. I can speak Hokkien fine, but hey - how many people actually speak Penang-style Hokkien, right? I took a Level 1 Mandarin class last year and did pretty poorly in that, despite the fact that I had constant help from my flatmate. After that stint, I decided I'd just watch Mandarin/Cantonese shows to acclimatize myself. It doesn't help that Wah Lai Toi doesn't do Malay subtitles anymore, though.

Anyway, at least I can cook Malaysian food. Sometimes.

This never used to nag at me before, but nowadays as I mingle with people from people all over the world here in International House, I find myself having trouble introducing the concept of why my first language is actually English and not my mother tongue. People are amazed at how well I converse in English when I come from a developing nation in South East Asia (though this may actually stem from ignorance more than anything else). I should be able to speak and write Mandarin the way I speak and write in English, dammit! I just have more trouble than I thought I would attempting to speak Mandarin in that I sound ridiculously foreign and just wrong overall.

Being this far away from home and Malaysians in general has made me realize that maybe Malaysia isn't as terrible as Malaysians think it is. The United States is equally mired in political and racial problems as Malaysia is, but people sure as hell aren't running away. I wonder why.

I am probably not the best candidate to represent Malaysia, which is a crying shame. I wanted to make the spoilt brat decision of going to China to live for the summer, but I doubt even 3 months would help. Especially when nobody speaks Mandarin at home. Sigh. This identity crisis needs to be addressed ASAP. Identity crisis and future career prospects. Yes, top of priority list definitely. I don't really want to graduate; I don't mind working 'til midnight everyday writing lab reports. Honestly.

< / whine >

goodness

September 07, 2009 | Published in | 2 comments

I'm leaving the country this Friday and I won't be back for another 9 months. I've never been away from home for this long before.

I am sad, happy, excited, apprehensive, nostalgic, undecided, petrified beyond belief.

"I know you can be overwhelmed, and you can be underwhelmed, but can you ever just be whelmed?"

I am whelmed.

Say

September 04, 2009 | Published in | 2 comments

I only spent a total of six days with R this entire summer. It is wrong on so many levels for two people in a relationship to see each other so rarely, but despite the blatant boundaries, neither of us care. I left for Singapore early one Friday morning after having struck a deal with my boss to take off the day before. My phone had died on the way and he couldn’t contact me and I couldn’t contact him. Through clumsy telepathy and use of a public telephone, he managed to track me down. I had to hit him with my Longchamp before he noticed me in his state of sheer panic. The first thing I told him was how bad his hair looked. “I know,” he replied, “I know." And then he gave me two taro pies from Burger King and a bottle of Pink Dolphin.

I am a punk rock princess with the worst temper when I am with him.

i want to be a panda

August 18, 2009 | Published in , | 0 comments

We were talking about the following photo today over the wonder that is MSN -


- and I said I wanted a pet panda after staring at the delightfully fuzzy thing. Mind you, I am hardly into furry miniscule creatures and slobbering animals, unlike most other girls I know; I am a coffee-drinking, alt-rock-listening, platform-loving sort of person.

Anyway, he suggested colouring a chow chow black and white so that it could potentially look like a panda.

We then proceeded to name this potential panda-dog Zoe for reasons only we can laugh about until the day we die.

ETA: Some people have already done it (the panda-dog thing) and gotten slammed!

LOLZORS

Heart

August 13, 2009 | Published in | 1 comments

Source: heartbeatbox

So close no matter how far
Couldn't be much more from the heart
Forever trusting who we are
And nothing else matters

space and time

August 02, 2009 | Published in , | 5 comments

Singapore in no particular order:


Me and my giant jug of sugar cane. Filled me up almost immediately.



T-shirt: Topman; Skirt: Topshop; Bag: Miu Miu; shoes: Gap





Tramped up and down air conditioned shopping malls in my spanking new pastel green and fuchsia French Soles. Was surveyed by a random man from Herbalife. Happily ate taro pies from BK upon arrival because I asked for it and I got it. Sat in the passenger seat pestering the already flustered and confused driver in more ways than one. Went to Mustafa at midnight and admired the shine of gilded Citizen watches in white fluorescent light and almost stepped on a rat in the cereal aisle. First night, ordered 40 satay sticks, 1 large plate of fried hokkien mee, 2 plates of vegetables (because apparently I don't eat anything else, he says), 1 plate of o chien - all for 2 people. We took about 90% of the food away because I can't eat that much since nobody really force feeds me anymore :( Second night, similar story only +3 other friends. Visited the comic book shop and oohed and aahed at the assortment of Lord of the Rings figurines I've been missing my whole life. Paid homage to Topshop Ion Orchard and came out with a pair of bright pink leather brogues I'm absolutely dying to wear but haven't because my spanking new pastel green and fuchsia French Soles are too cute to pass up - for now. Had my first filet o fish yesterday at someone's insistence. I left for home soon thereafter and I felt bereft, for the second time in two months. Sigh.

Vapid Summer

July 01, 2009 | Published in , , | 1 comments

I arrived home last night to a simple array of food that consisted of no less than 5 dishes. Nothing lavish, my grandma insists. My room resembles a small rubbish tip but I can take comfort in the knowledge that it will be cleaned sooner or later at somebody's insistence. I can also watch Disney cartoons at any time of the day without getting yelled at for being a useless hobo.

The only thing is, Streamyx (Malaysia's darling internet service provider) still hasn't gotten its ass in shape after about 238 years of being active. This is not surprising; I am not a stranger to the country's inherent incompetencies. I'm currently leeching wi-fi off some poor neighbour who has never ever bothered to put a password to his network.

I love how cartoons are mostly social discourses and commentaries: Donald Duck is in bed, his alarm rings, he doesn't want to get up, Donald's Bad Conscience tells him to sleep on, Donald's Good Conscience tells him to wake up and go to school, Donald's Bad Conscience somehow manages to persuade him to go fishing ("fishing", they say) and smoke a pipe...

And then I just sort of lost concentration.

Cartoons with strong evangelistic and halo bearing schoolgirl undertones just don't cut it for me anymore.

Ooh, it's rainningggg.
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