More Tea, Please.

Stab

2012-01-14T18:58:00.002+08:00

Perplexing how a single scene could take me back

to the world of white beds with metal railings, syringes and instruments that beeped the whole drawn night;

to when I lived each day clutching at each straw of certainty in a haystack of uncertainty, ever wondering if I could learn to be happy, if I could be like ordinary people.

I have often wondered how it works if, every person wanting to be unique, there were a standard into which most fell. And me wanting to fit into that standard, just to stem the pain, would be wishing away that which made myself unique. With time I've come to look back and look calmly, chin up; but at the time it was a series of lows and part of me - a big part of me - wanted out.

And so it took me

Back to being fragile and guarded and - just keeping the pieces together.

Skywalker

2012-01-08T20:44:00.001+08:00

Every word is true, and it is just as my heart had spoken. We are soulmates.

"We appreciate the beauty of life. The beauty of falling in love. The beauty of growing stronger after each lesson.

The beauty of the heart."

Every word is true. And I cry because my heart is out there so plain with you, because at last I've found someone who understands.

What a meaningful start to the new year, and a precursor of what we aim still to be.

I could imagine her on her wedding day, a true princess in a fairytale of white tulle and golden trimmings.

Sunlight in her hair, stars in her eyes.

And I just want to see you married happily ever after. Never cheated on again.

In the year before this she experienced "the miracle of finding, knowing and loving" [herself]".

I had a great many defining moments; but only today did I find the summary of my 2011 - learning to be a bigger person.

I learnt to accept defeat gracefully, because grace is what makes a woman;

to extend forgiveness to those who did not ask for it, because I saw how past years of grudgery had embittered my insides.

To hold my peace where a younger me would have made destruction of disorder,

to listen to poison and know it for just that, nothing more;

to fall flat on my rump and then look upward and onward,

and laugh,

and love.

As I go through this life, I realise there are a fair proportion (not too common, but not too scarce either) of people like me, web-thinkers who connect the dots without trying. Kindred spirits, or those of "my world".

Even though we are little more than a week into the year, already profound moments have found their way in to beautify my life by that much.

What is it about writing that is more enduring than identical words expressed in speech? Is it just that it can be read again and again while the most meaningful words spoken tend not to occur exactly as they did last, if ever again?

This year will be significant, I feel it.

Away from my homeland I am free to eat only what I please, spend time according to my needs, and furnish my room as I wish.

In just my first semester, there have been so many little things which mattered to me, that I never had at home.

A fruit bowl. Wall hangings. Home-baked muffins. Someone who asked "How was your day?"

White furniture. Warm lighting. Pretty things everywhere I looked.

And I know I am partially indulging in a lost adolescence; my own swallowed by angst and mistrust.

It may seem delayed,

but I am going to laugh,

and have a good time,

and feel pretty.

It may seem strange, but I am both girl frivolous at last, and at the same time, woman growing wise in heart.

My life philosophy;

to shortchange

Oh this is youth, and how glad I am to be living it!

Ps. All photos are original, and personal favourites.

It's the Life in You That Presses On

2011-12-12T21:53:00.000+08:00

Rather strange, it is. To be called an average girl just because I enjoy the things other girls do, because I can.

The irony is I remember being unable to do just this; remember being too afraid and self-restrained. You would not have called me the average girl then, I was a far cry from her. Inside I felt so pale and raging hot in turns; I felt insignificant and raged against it.

Only now I've grown into feeling special and loved; and you dare call me ordinary? I laugh at that, laugh because you don't know a thing about me.

Time is too slow for those who wait,

Too swift for those who fear,

Too long for those who grieve,

Too short for those who rejoice.

But for those who love, time is eternity.

- Henry Van Dyke -

I spent years waiting, and waited in fear. I stood by the sink grieving, after rejoicing had fled. Now it is time to love, and I'm learning we don't lose when we love.

Tummy Whispers

2011-10-28T21:11:00.000+08:00

Maggi mee, comfort food.
I remember sneaking downstairs on sleepless nights, to my Papa with the telly on;
he'd whip up a bowl of chicken noodles with an egg done just the way it should be, and pour a little into the pretty plastic bowl with flowers.
And we'd both sit at the coffee table with the telly on
and slurp in silence.

Plate's Edge

2011-08-17T15:39:00.003+08:00

Sudden urge to write, but no time for it, there's not much time for much else besides getting through uni life each day. Not that it's an unhappy thing; on the contrary, I genuinely still find joy in my current time and place; it's just that I don't have those beautiful long spaces of time for indulging in a good read or a write anymore. When's the last time I finished a book proper? Ages ago, it seems. As for writing, all I have now are the itsy bits of print which show up in my mind's eye, and I catch them, jot them down, like crumbs in the space of time between plate's edge and sinkhole. They are snatches of emotion, enough to get me by, a mediocre subset of the whole I'm missing out on.

Sometimes the places look still as they did the day you showed me around, and it brings a smile to my lips.

Like they're already gone despite still breathing in their bodies

Tomorrow I'll wake up and I will be sane.

Started running today and I love it. Gotta add sneakers to my December shopping list, 'cause I foresee these running shoes getting soiled steadily.

*Sigh* Has it really been just over a month since I dressed up for a jaunt? No regrets arriving with little more than a single suitcase and backpack, but I do miss wearing impractically pretty clothes.

Awakening On This Other Side

2011-07-21T15:20:00.002+08:00

The first dreary day since my arrival in Sydney nearly two weeks ago. But I am happy here; there are many things to say but right now this is on the tip of my tongue; I am happy here.

Every day of the first week felt like a vacation; I know it was holiday season anyway, but the essence of the feeling was in me, and perhaps it had to do with how restful it is to have no one but myself to tend to. Just yesterday I took the elevator back up to my room after doing the laundry, inadvertently savouring this independence and freedom. I imagine most, if not all, students go through this same relish when living away from home, but I know mine is a little different.

Perhaps the following snippets from my writing pad will provide a sufficient glimpse of my experiences here, seeing as time will not allow a full photo entry. =)

I can't bring everything with me, just pack it away. I have loved her, but now I have to pack this away.

Dear diary, I met the nicest guy today.

I must wash my hair, or die trying!!

How cold it is for tropical me.

Today we sat on the grass and ate. Got attacked by birds. So we ran away. Then a little kid came and chased them off by hitting two sticks together.

Child courage.

Are you serious!? I brought my rice cooker all this way and forgot to pack the cable!!

Found it some nights later. Apparently I'd just not recognised it 'cause it was unusually clean compared to how it was at home.

I wanted to be the one who'd let you win because you could; I'd walk my own pace and smile in pride.

But now I have new dreams and a brand new hope, awakening on this other side.

Sitting by the weather forecast page, refreshing it hoping it will turn warmer somehow.

What do I hope to achieve as a dancer?

A marked improvement in my natural style - modern

A certain degree of versatility

Courage to cypher

Every night I lay myself down feeling so thankful and content. For all that I have, here and back home. To God for bringing me here. And I pray that I will be this grateful for the tough times He will also bring me through.

It's really annoying that banks close on weekends!

Gym junkie?! Me!?

You want everything? Then this is what happens.

This is the sweetness of doing nothing.

Without A Heart

2011-07-06T18:32:00.006+08:00

Why is it that once you start crying it is so hard to stop?

And I'm not even crying for the usual reasons one would expect of a girl leaving home; I weep out of old wounds made fresh, weep for the love I never knew I was supposed to have.

Excited I was, bright-eyed and ready to make a new life in a new land - but now I am even glad. I need room to grow, and this space is but a cage over my wings.

It is a trap: this home I have dreamed in for all of my life, this house I have served from the days my broom was actually for stirring cauldrons, this pressure chamber I have shared with her for ten years. And though I've known for some time that I have to go, it pains me to think I'm leaving her behind in this trap.

She looked on without a heart, as I wept from mine.

Grave Angel Eyes

2011-06-22T23:30:00.002+08:00

Two and a half weeks in Canada, and I'm feeling the ickiness of Malaysian humidity! In another two weeks I'll be starting a new life with intentions to make the most of it. I just get the feeling that uni will be the best time of my life - in its first half, at least.

Here's a post all about gifts given and received in the past year, featuring my handmade cards! I love making cards, and expanding my horizon means I have an excuse to buy, buy ...and buy pretty things that can be incorporated into cards. XP

Personalised balloon for the best friend

Little gifts that show me the love

Oh and I love wrapping presents too. This was for a Gymboree boy, turning one. Must've been the prettiest gift from Gymbo so far. =P
The thing about Gymboree birthdays is, the celebrated student always gets a T-shirt. So to the person wrapping, it means wrapping the same object and it would be dull unless you challenge yourself to come up with a different way every time. Which is just what I did.

I appointed myself official present-wrapper and had three other rounds to experiment with. No photos, because I forgot to take them at work. Overall success reported, but I don't know how much longer I could've gone on, haha.

Perpetual calendar from Lady Jayne, whose products I adore.

Pocket calendars from Fat Spoon, irresistably pretty!

The whole set

They make for dainty Christmas gifts.

We shall see later on what becomes of this

Project #1: Miss Cheryl's. From Those Who Will Keep On Dancing.

Most cards start off with an inspiration, a concept which evolves as the card progresses.
This one was based on a clothesline, sparked by mini pegs as accent pieces.

A quick 'do, with notice given by VP about a day before.

Aforesaid VP, with the calculator pulled from her handbag after dinner. =P
This darling is now literally flying high, with Singapore Airlines.

Here, I have sacrificed much and learnt more. I was pushed out of my comfort zone with the mantle forced upon me, and all I could do was take a deep breath and hold my chin up.
Because backing out or giving up is not an option.

From this experience I saw that perseverance is one of the things that make me tick. Maybe I was born this way, but I can also say that life has presented many opportunities for me to show how long and how strongly I can hold on -
and well, I learnt to seize them.

Project #2: Amirah's. Comeback Queens.

Even shopping in Australia, I am reminded of you!

We grew apart, but you were never far from my thoughts.

All those sunshine days we spent together; happy, happy times.

We met in the alley fourteen years ago, and you shaped my life.

Project #3: Sean's and Jaf's. It Shouldn't Be This Hard to Say Goodbye.

A special date, for more than one reason

That night the kitchen counter saw the beginnings of growth spurts
Secret fear and reckless smiles
The phone line fizzled after the eleventh
But I never ceased.
Now I only look back to see how far I've come.

The best friend I wasn't sure I had. =')

There's something about wood and paper, and the authenticity of open space they afford.
Sometimes I get afraid of marring their beauty, but it is an empty beauty that could instead hold the artistry of a soul.

With bated breath, I attempt the first stroke.

Didn't have a plan, didn't have a template.

An impromptu design, made up as I went along.

My first experiment with wood and metallic puff paint; a relative success!

Sean's frame next to Jaf's 'chopping board'. Just a little farewell gift to lighten those days when being a future doctor gets suicidal. =P

Through the slow days lounging behind schooldesks,
tears cried in science labs and gifts opened in toilets;
Facing conmen, Dutch men, and lame jokes that could kill any man -

We've come a long way, boys.

A lot can happen in a year.
How sobering it is to know we three will not meet again like this for four, five - maybe more!

When I first heard from Jaf that he was leaving, it was like a brick to my stomach. And I never knew how heavy that could feel. My first thought was

Of all places, why India???

But of course, it's one of the places for Medicine. Of course. It's just that my good friend is going there and I've never had a good friend go away before. Over the years we have climbed the ranks in each other's friendship scale, and now he's a best friend I never guessed I'd have.

Funny how things change.

Project #4: Caveman's. The Envelope Card.

The idea of a piece that was both card and envelope had been at the back of my mind for some time; it only remained to see if I could pull it off.

Figuring out the closure took some time. I wanted it to look effortless, near seamless. That meant a slit (which could come loose in delivery), or some complicated placing of buttons and string.
Or maybe the answer was magnets.

So two days before deadline, I went out determined to find me some little magnets.

Worked like a charm!

Mission accomplished.

Project #5: Najjua's. Standing Out in a Frame.

Now, this was a different challenge: Naj's guy was putting together a big scrapbook with birthday wishes from her friends, in any form they wanted.

An ordinary card wouldn't do; it had to look good just lying flat. Yet at the same time, I wanted something she could savour separate from the rest of them. In case she ever went overseas and couldn't fit that bulky scrapbook into her luggage.

I wanted to stand out. So I gave her the option of hanging my card on her wall, or leaning it against her bedside lamp, or anywhere instead of just being trapped between artblock pages. My first photoframe-style card.

One look, and I knew it was the perfect 'wallpaper'.

OHmygorgeousprettisimo!
My parents used to caution me in buying new toys, or new gadgets, or learning a new instrument, claiming that it was just a fad and would pass. But I have come to understand the distinction between passing interests - a new restaurant, a trinket I've not quite seen before - and those that last in me. For the most part, I fall for the same things and traits again and again. Which isn't bad news when you see me buying yet another pair of earrings, knowing they won't be discarded in just several months. Or better yet, when I've forgotten the number of my parking lot and simply rely on falling for the same items on the way back - just in reverse. It's like an emotional roadmap back to the car!

As I once confided in Sean,
I don't love easily, and once I love I don't let go.

Measured and marked, to get even corners.

Project #6: Joanne's. The Beginning of Easel Cards.

My desk, when in full cardmaking mode.
On the right is my big craft drawer, but of course not everything can fit inside ;)
so I started a 'secret stash' in the cabinet above where all the precious rolls of paper are kept. Wellll eventually the papers took over and all other tenants have been evacuated, tqverymuch. =D

Of easel cards, I was ignorant 'til I gave in and bought a lovely magazine that was all about cardmaking - I mainly wanted the calendar that came with it, which is very, very pretty.

Once I laid my eyes on this particular card structure, I could only marvel at how (or rather, howww?!!!?) it was done.
A few mind-boggling days later, I upped and asked Google. The rest is history.

The first part of cardmaking for me is paper selection. I draw inspiration from their colours and textures, fuelling enthusiasm and unfolding options through which I pick my way. All the combinations, the possibilities, the excitement! This is the joy I experience, even before the 'perfect' choice is finally made.

Getting this frame to stick on right was tricky, to say the least.

First shot of weaving took some calculations and meticulous handiwork.

An easel card is given flat, and unfolds to stand upright for display. Or simply to remind the recipient that he or she is cherished.

Project #7: Koko's. Say Tag.

Attempt at masculine; tag concept.
Olive and camel colour palette.

Matter of precision

The striped stand is actually done in a deep metallic maroon, very beautiful.

Breaking out in bolster fights, thieving like a magpie from your treasure trove of drawers, making crayon art on your furniture; it's been good growing up together.

Project #8: College Lecturers'. There Have Been Some Wonders.

Mini canvases painted over in metallic acrylic that took me ages to choose, after work in Czip Lee.

What did I have in mind? Something like that.
Or so I tell myself to avoid disappointment, lol.

I didn't envision making them bookmarks at all. It was the paper, I tell you, the paper.

Mass production doesn't suit me, but I needed to be fair.

Tediously ink-lined edges

Just one of the minute details which enhance beauty; and if you can't put your finger on it, all the better.

The papers just belonged.
I love these pretty concoctions! Why do I have to give them away?

Yes I kept one for myself but even that, too, I've just given away in Canada.
Hohoho, Merry Christmas. =P

Look! The memo holder comes with a bookmark as demo. =]

Very handy box for gift-giving.
There's even a slot for class dinner save-the-date's!

Project #9: Remember Me?

- said the little wooden alphabet.

Now I'm pretty in pink and ready to go!
Once again, black lining really helps with class act; creates exclusivity and definition.

Just like an artist.

Project #10: Giovana's. Unexpected Champion.

Her birthday fell on a Sunday, I just had to take hold of it!

It's not about how beautiful they say you are,
it's about how beautiful you really are.

Long-time girlfriends

Our promise

Our connection is legendary.

Project #11: V(i)P. Tea in Tinkling China.

To go with the book I gave her.

Nothing like tea and fun in my babydoll dress~

We went for our favourite pastime together - sitting down for a cuppa tea!
the tea republic was a lovely place I'd read about; thrilled to be there. =D

What a way to set the mood. I'm all ready to indulge now.

Listen to wisdom

Our two pots of tea with rocky road and a platter of macaroons. It was as bright a day as we lacked the last time we tried at Delicious, and it was her farewell. I rushed right over from a couple hours at work, ready in frock and all.

May the good things in life shine on you.

Very chic. I like.

Try and stop us.

I can't wait to see what Sydney has to offer in terms of dance. Generally, the explosive diversity I vaguely expect from a city as vibrant as it sounds. Specifically, what I can eventually master despite my inexperience and lack of training. Oh I can hardly wait.

Project #12: Mummy. Wilt Not.

She liked them lilies and orchids.

Big bloomin' babies!

There was a time she never wore pink. Only a few years ago her wardrobe started amassing pink and that marked a shift in her mindset, her viewpoint in life.

Colours. How they speak.

Project #13: Carmen's. The Record-breaking Overdue.

Meant to be the first easel card I made, but it never saw completion 'til five months later.
A sweet, serene theme at work here, with a seashore vibe. Since I know she has the same taste as me, especially in shades of pink. =)

Layering for the ultimate sandy-sweetheart effect nearly drove me up the wall. So many shades of beige and brown and pink, so many grades of pretty-good and not-too-bad and could-this-be-perfection? !
To be sure, I needed something light to bring out the delicate frangipani tones. But that second layer had to have a warmth also, to lie harmoniously with the base cardstock.
I love the result.

Tiny red beads for an ideally arresting accent; such fiddly bits they were!

I think this is my signature style; a look that is effortless but with underlying intricacies. And always, always finished. You could wish for more embellishments, but the card has to have a certain elegance and look finished.

Can't miss this, the quintessential mark of Nicole.
If it's not there, it's a pirated product. ;D

Rub-A-Dub

2011-04-21T21:00:00.005+08:00

Here's something I've never done before; put up a wishlist. It started as a list of things I craved, and those I'd eternally crave for. Good stuff like apple pie die hard. Which explains why my wishlist starts with edibles!

Tummy Rumbles
Chocolate coated digestive biscuits
Red velvet with chocolate icing
Ben&Jerry's Chunky Monkey
Chocolate Haagen Dazs
Peach crumble
Apple pie

Vanity Sighs
Earrings Classy, funky, sexy, anything but tacky
Cardmaking material and equipment Or just paper, beautiful on its own
Notebooks Those lovely ones I rarely bring myself about to buy for my collection
Anything pretty, dainty, wooden, swirly, fairy-related or with appealing delicacy Trinkets, mirrors, boxes, bags, stationary, apparel

Personally Hunting For
Versatile sling bag
Pretty mini umbrella
Classic pinprick diamond studs

Blacklist
Aka the Items Which Usually Disappoint
Toiletries
Candles
Stuffed toys

Ps.
I Don't Wear
Belts
Rings

An Equidistant Nameless Sphere Away

2011-04-20T23:01:00.000+08:00

Written 3rd August 2010

The old feeling enveloped me; the one of staying motionless and just looking back, nostalgia. I couldn't leave the outside, the whir of wheels and spur-of-the-moment directions called out of the child figures now only visible to me. Once I crossed the line of meeting, I couldn't turn back. Onward, my heart tugged, forward - into memories far older than those I try to restrain now. Immersed myself. The colours, not so close to the ground now - patchy black, with stabs of green; white streaks and smatterings of brown. This is where I grew up. Here in Cats' Alley. I met one of them after fifteen paces; it stared at me with familiar yellow eyes. The same tension, the same pause. I seized the moment and then went on. I liked the view from closer to the ground. Things seemed more real and existent then; not an equidistant nameless sphere away. Crunch, crunch beneath my feet; it used to fill my ears with more exuberance, contending with the wind as I raced my way to the next junction. Stopped, stood.
From this portal I turned to see how far I'd come.
My eyes flew to the space where green was in mid-convo with blue, both resting on the edge of a blackened runway. Now all the houses look the same, though on the way up each exuded personality - the same feelings as I passed the same shaded yards, the same sense of obstruction as I barely turn my head; I knew them all. Then I see you braking to a stop at the end of that runway; I hear the signal we agreed upon and steady myself for the descent. Without thought I switch the right pedal up - and push, on left. Everything hurtling rooftops converging voices scents sounds, all sliding past - swerve to the right, been wondering when that metal sheet would reappear - grip for a screech and the cats break up their conference; once more I push and my hair whips my face, my eyes sting and water but nothing stops me 'cause I know I'm returning to you.
You who wait there a little past the meeting line. I cross the threshold and go back to only holding dreams.

Of Fire and Soul

2011-04-19T23:16:00.002+08:00

What does it mean to dream of the elements, and of fire being mine?

For some mysterious reason, some of my best quotes come when I'm sitting on the toilet bowl. Just when my phone is well out of reach and I am conveniently immobilised.

Dancing gave me a literal pain in the butt today. But I've finally found what I've been looking for, and it's an uplifting sensation. Drove home as one in a dream. The movements, weight shifts and flow that come most natural to me, have always escaped definition - until now.
I've tried ballet, hip hop, popping, locking, ballroom, latin; none have felt native or answered my soul's calling the way modern dance does. When I did hip hop, they said my style was
"too graceful". When I tasted ballet, it was bitter enough to toss the spoon into the bin so I'd never have to take another scoop, so to speak.

Been remarkably busy these past months. But I'm coming back with a bang, ready to share a precious piece. Stay tuned.

Pictures Hanging Crooked On The Wall

2011-02-05T08:14:00.001+08:00

Fun-filled Jan! For a quick post I've combed through months-old albums and picked out that which struck my fancy. The shots documenting my art shall appear in the following post, as some have yet to be transferred from camera.

Where old and new meet

My most beautiful keychain, from Auckland

It broke after I dropped my carkeys for the third time. ='(

Get your fix ;)
Oral Fixation candy in Damned Delicious Cinnamon

Of course, aside from the flavour, I fell for its packaging.
Sucker for boxes and paper products.

For the past year and a half, my bed has been used strictly for storage purposes.
*Ahem, didn't I just tell you, -paper products- ?* XP

I've been collecting boxes since primary schooldays, but stopped a few years back when I realised I wouldn't have space to keep them all. =(
Paper remains an active passion, though. Still perusing craftstore shelves, ending in debate as to which to take and which to leave.
You're gorgeous.
I don't need you.
But there's something about your colour, something I've never seen before.
What if I don't make use of you, wouldn't that be a waste?
What if I never see you again; a bigger waste?
As you can see, ladies and gentlemen, shopping is not for the mentally challenged.

Next up is a bunch of photos from nearing the end of CAL.

In college, Literature has always been where I felt weakest. The medieval-English text we had in A2 wasn't helping; spelling correctly in modern English would usually mean your textual knowledge was deplorable, 'cause the English had a completely different set of spelling back then. On the one hand, spelling like Chaucer made you feel less like an airheaded moron; on the other, spelling as you usually would made you feel sure of your sanity, that you hadn't yet succumbed to the Lit Invasion.
At least, that was the fear our seniors ingrained in us within the first week of classes: "Lit Will Take Over Your Life!!"

Well, I held on 'til the very end.

=P
A few weeks before the Lit paper, I decided I was tired of being unsure of Chaucer's spelling, and went all out to make friends with it.

(Photo evidence that desperate times call for desperate measures.)

Placed his work so I could see them

While I looked up to drink water...

While I washed the dishes...

While I brushed my teeth...

The bunch of 'em, over 40 quotes in total stuck all over the house.
Crazy is as crazy does. ;)

Pretty cell sketches from secondary Science,
dug them up as I was clearing out my old academic stuff.

Selling my CAL books off was rather gratifying.
I'd driven straight to Subang from Genting, got stunned by the flock of students camping about their cartons of books. None of the faces were familiar. Wanted to chicken out but I went chin up instead to do things I've never done before.
The sun blazed down with a vengeance and the whole lot seemed about wilting with the exception of one or two crazies who charged down the walkway roaring the most ridiculous rates in attempt to end their suffering. I expect they were among the ones who'd been there since 7 in the morning.
During the three hours I was one of them, I
Shouted like a potato vendor in a strawberry field. I was the only one selling CAL at that part of the walkway that day; everyone else was from SAM.
Chased a client across the street. One of the SAMs referred him to me, bless her. And chased after him again when he forgot to take half of what he'd paid for.
Did all that without lunch.

Now, as far as I know,
Nicole doesn't shout, she doesn't chase strangers across the road, and she definitely isn't one to miss a square meal.
But I did that day, and I'm glad about it. =D

A file for every occasion. =)

Dutifully sorted every piece of paper into one of three piles:
Fully used
Relatively blank
and
Ican'tremember,Ijusthaveathingforcategorisation.

Massive clearout.
Also the day I reclaimed my bed. X)

Our big Lit notes, three-quarters of which I didn't actually read. =X
It was plain slogging away!

So long, Bronte.
Jane Eyre fell apart and I had to send her for a second binding.

Off to work now. =)
Where we sing songs, blow bubbles, and do happy things.

A Colour to Say It All

2010-12-16T22:28:00.012+08:00

And it brings to mind
old people sitting at an angle, oblique, oblivious to the passing minutes
yet willing them away with the absence of will to do more than sit.
There is a nothingness in the air ahead of them
and gladly would they join it
if only

if only we would let them.
Feels like we're pressing something into a hand within whose very veins
blood shuffles - reluctant.
There's a lot of pain involved
and the last thing we need
is more.

This time I don't hide the knives.

There is too much to record, I can't keep up with my own life, blogwise!
The monster post in the making for Sept and Oct I think will have to remain in the morgue; right now ready your hearts 'cause I have recent writings, a hodgepodge:

I know now that if I had to choose, it'd be writing over dancing. This is my explanation.
Drop everything. That's what I do sometimes when the need to write is compelling. It may be a half-folded T-shirt, a toothbrush, the dishwashing gloves, a fork and its partner, a bunch of keys; I leave and don't return until I've written everything out.

The shuffle, the meeting of eyes, the impulsive smile. As the vendor counted out my change, the smiler named her plate's contents. It was a puzzling garble until I caught "chicken"; the words seemed to tumble out of her mouth, as though anxious to express meaning to a listening stranger. Vaguely that's when I realised she was disabled; a second glance showed mildly deformed limbs, and suddenly her lacking in stature made more sense. In that quick moment a feeling of gladness also registered itself, a sweetness from having smiled with my heart.

It started with
The circle of stones I made for my favourite tree, and when it died I visited its grave nightly just so it wouldn't feel forgotten.
Then
I've never lived in a house without palm trees. One day I came home and they were all chopped away. It feels slightly barren sometimes, remembering the shapes they made on the ground, and me trying to fit both my bike and myself into one of those shapes so we could escape the scorching noon heat while I searched for red dates to cook. I only took those that were smooth, unblemished. Some, which exposed husky strands soaked in a sickly orange, I inspected curiously before silently chastising the squirrel that had left it half-eaten. Finally I'd have scavenged enough or else the heat would get to me and I'd retire indoors after stashing away the day's gatherings.
Just like a squirrel.

"Goodbye, madamoiselle~"
Still young enough to speak nonsense that means nothing and everything at the same time. Nothing because a grownup cynic would scoff at your mindless choice of words; everything because I hear the loving fluorish you added just to make another moment between us.
The next day's ramble was hilarious what with hitch-hiking (which you never see in Malaysia), my little sheep straying across the Lake Gardens, and one mini me being lugged up all the uphills (on a right shoulder I didn't know could ache so), and Cola lips all around.

And I finally got back on the saddle, not to mention the beautiful aisles of books. A place I simply get lost in, and it's nothing to do with my sense of direction. =P

Bit of gravel on my bag. Catch my breath, let me.
Just the slightest bit gingerly, I kicked back the stand and swung onto the pedals. A sense of liberation rolled through me, like a child who'd found her field of flowers. Breezing across the streets, I surprise myself with the surge of control from narrowly avoiding a squashed rat. Oddly enough, it intermingles with an equal lack of control; potholes hoist a redder flag now, rivalled only by roadgrilles like the one I rode into the day of my first Acceptance. We had to wheel my bike home.
Back in the present, I relish once more the in-between speed of cycling. Driving was too fast, isolated from the real world; walking was to slow, the same reality followed you for too long. Cycling feels the right amount of real. The strongest feeling though, was one of homecoming. And it wrapped me, this motion I've known even before pre-school.

I remember clearly a single image of my figure looking out the window, into a grey February morning. I remember how the branches intertwined in broken harmony against the bleakness of an iron sky - how I knew you didn't see the same things I did, or feel the same things I felt!

Rapunzel is the best movie I've seen in months! And I met my first Kirsten, that dolluva girl who held tight for reasons unknown to me. Or anyone else, for that matter. I won't forget that fierce, dictative knock and her walking in for a goodbye hug that felt so genuine.

Crazy weekend and week up ahead. I love every bit of planning!

Oh the title? A sudden obsession a few days back where I went
I need to find a colour that expresses my feelings perfectly.

At that moment, I needed something more than words, I needed something that would stare back at me with strength equal to all I was feeling inside. Something like a buffer to catch me from tipping over.

Heartscream

2010-11-24T22:02:00.013+08:00

This is hurting me all over again.

I was curled up with a book in my favourite seat after eons deprived of this luxury, I'd wrinkled my brow in sympathy for the protagonist, and laughed at a smart bit of comic by the author; when suddenly, still holding the book but detached from it, I started tearing.

And it wouldn't stop.

I haven't cried this way for months. I was going fine, I'd made my Decision, why'd you have to pop up again like a d*mn weed when all I want is to be able to look out my window and smell the roses?

The repeated irony never fails to turn up a corner of my mouth - makes me laugh, even. I'm sure now God has a sense of humour in His timing and I'm glad to know this side of Him but that last time, it wasn't funny. More like exasperating and impossible.

Today I drove on the road where you realised we'd forgotten the chicken sandwich. And I stood on the black black escalators in an outfit that wasn't purple.

I miss the way you blink and how it undermines the seriousness of the topic, and of your stoneface.
I miss the way you walk on your toes, always odd to me but at the same time so a part of you that it, too, I embrace.
And I miss the way you speak, with that little upward inflection at the introductory line when you're explaining something to me.
I miss being part of your life, 'cause - face it - you're still very much part of mine.

And that is why I got rid of seeing bits of the life of someone who doesn't want to know about my life,
why I walked mechanically and felt my own face turn to stone,
why I won't pick up when Nobody is calling.

I know now, firsthand, that the ones who experience the highest peaks, the most radiant joy, are the same ones who go through the emptiest tunnels, the deepest grief. And that's the reason why I would need someone of a more moderate temperament. Two of my kind would only destroy each other.

My mind, it connects everything to something else I know. It's wonderful, I appreciate this innate ability but when it comes to you, it only makes me want to disconnect heart and mind. It makes me feel like being born without this way of thinking seems more like a superpower than anything else. An orange will always be an orange to you. But to me, it is laughter, kindness and a mini caveman.

Just like how the mention of grilled chicken is enough to make me squint in amusement, 'cause in my mind's eye you're wearing an apron and it's the most unmanly thing you've ever worn.
Imagine this happening every day with every saucer of chilli I push aside, every time I put on my contact lens and remember a broken promise, every custard concoction I see when I enter a bakery, every ...everything.

It's true that if a guy wants to find you, he will.
But it's also true that if a girl doesn't want to be found, she won't be.

I cried and cried. When I returned my father's call, I wasn't even coherent. Took an hour to get ready for supper with him. We talked about cares greater than my own, impending losses more calamitous than mine, and for a picture I remember the garlic naan that looked more like a pizza. Also, I learnt to never have garlic naan the last thing before going to bed, 'cause it stays in your throat and greets you first thing in the morning.

Still it drizzled heavily.
I came home in a quieter state of mind and read what Jaf had to say. And started crying again, not so much out of sadness this time but because I was deeply moved,
for he'd said everything I needed to hear. =')

Then my fairy godbrother called and for the second time that night I sobbed into the phone with a shocked man on the other side.
And these loving people, they picked up my shards and set me on my feet again.

You're like a disease that won't be cured. Luckily my best friend is a doctor-to-be.
Actually, that's not relevant. =P
I'm just glad to know (or rather, have known) you both.

P.s.

The card whose delivery made me go,
"I never want to do something so stupid for a long, long time."
Teehee.

Rev

2010-11-15T13:22:00.008+08:00

Feeling achey all over, blue, and slightly fatigued.

A party period?
So not sexy.

I've tried to find a way around it,
tested to see if it would ring any less true, but

I know I cannot be happy being a scorer of mediocre grades.

Yes, I've outgrown the rigid Asian mentality of straight-A's defining my worth,
have shed most of the inhibition which once cloaked me in what the public called aloofness,
have gained also a greater measure of belief in pursuing my ideals
- even if it means going it alone.

I know what I want now.

And I won't let this happen again.

A Quietude In Passing

2010-11-14T13:43:00.002+08:00

Another one gone, this same year.

There will be
the walking through space
wrestling belief that something will happen with the next step you take
something that will bring him back, closer to you
or you to him
whichever
anything to lessen the pain

the smelling of linens as you fold them away
preserving the all you felt for him
and he for you
before separation snatched him from your safe harbour
the inward strain of ears
to remember his voice
anything that used to be.

Of fathers and husbands
Every reminder that tells them he is no longer here, every glance that shows them the void he would otherwise now occupy, I know it,

I know it because I've been through a shade of it - once like a clouded daybreak, once again like a rainstorm that surges back and forth.

But these are living people I speak of. Theirs are not.

So how much more would their heart ache, to the very heartseams which I yet know not of - and pray it remain so for long enough a time.

Love is a frightening glory, as great and comforting as it is devastating. It can give you the world the very same time it can take it all away, because the moment you gain something, it's yours to lose.

* Title verb refers to the act of passing away, as well as the walking action of mourners paying last respects. And for this author, a reflective passing of thoughts.

Around The Corner

2010-11-10T19:42:00.006+08:00

Elsewhere, the night air would be sweet.

Here, it is too, but only because it is scentless. Void of power to move me through the sense most evocative of memories.

Tonight I escape the captivity of scents which accompany stale textbooks, new paper, perfumed cards, corroding metal; no smell of black ink, oversized jackets, rose shampoos and apricot scrubs.

Some part of me wonders at my approval of this emptiness; why does it not alarm? why not overwhelm like the sense of loss it could represent?,

I think as I breathe in the clean scent of a hope without you.

After all that's happened, I'm living with the people in my mind - once again faceless, nameless; figures waiting to be brought to life, just like what happened
that day around the corner.

Out There

2010-11-05T17:09:00.007+08:00

Step in time, love, step in time,
live inside the morning

- Susan Stewart -

First time in ages I've missed a whole month of blogging. There's been no time, and life after CAL is about to begin - I'm counting down the days on my fingers (and toes).

Amidst the hard work and days moving both fast and slow,
my perspective and viewpoint have undergone shifts;
some come in surges, others in gentle undertones which strengthen as life's events dictate conviction.

I'm on a learning streak, finding it in me to embrace life for its subtle joys, tantalising possibilities, and less subtle - but no less precious - growing pains.
Again I say, to embrace life for these, and not despite these.

Here's to living bigger, undiminished.
To the people I love, we've got a masterpiece to make of our lives.

All This Sunlight Floods My Soul

2010-09-09T14:30:00.005+08:00

It's another beautiful day.

Waiting to collect photos of goings-out.
Meanwhile, here are several unposted favs. =)

There's gonna be some dancin', some groovin',
'cause I've got my solar tank filled to the brim.

I love this, crinkly ocean effect.

~Sun worshipper~

"Fine Like Buteeeeeeeeeerr"

2010-09-03T16:19:00.012+08:00

All-effective remedy for one SwirlDancer:

Heaps of sunshine.

Of course, ice-cream and crackers wouldn't hurt either.

Picture above shows poundcake and peach compote, yumm.

There is an airy feeling, a lightness inside me. I've been writing loads, reading regretfully little, worrying occasionally and picking myself up - repeatedly.
With so many things on the agenda, the bright-eyed planner in me sometimes - but rarely - fears there may not be enough time to achieve them all. But it gives meaning and flavour to an otherwise plain existence as man.

To be just man, without plans, without dreams, is unthinkable. And here lies the rub; a dreamer may be one who floats with her head in the clouds, a dreamer may also likely be the one who falls hardest when the bubble is burst from beneath her dreaming form; she hurtles through space, clutches at time, and lands on leaves of brittle stem in the glen below. Her homeland.
Yes, I have been disappointed time and time again, not just as man, but as dreamer. Despite the sidelong glances ever present from Risk, I don't suppose this part of me will change; bruises heal slow in this fragile flesh, but I am not afraid.

Trials ended for me yesterday, then it was straight out after dinner for some downtime with my VP. I'm so glad she waited for me; Step Up 3 came out a loong time ago in dance movie time!
We hurried from work, from home, and settled in place long before the lights were dimmed for 3D action - meaning I did not, contrary to usual practice, go in late for the movie. Eheh.
I'm still thinking about how, when I left the theatre, no words would come to my tongue to describe what I'd just seen. "Awesome" was too weak a word. This is a movie that lived up to expectations; stunning choreography throughout, sicK breaking; the first qualifying rounds I especially favoured for its raw, fierce energy.
In a word with best fit, it was DOPE.

Legacy Perez, my muse for his inspirational brand of breaking.

No conventional ballet-meets-street-dance routines here; this was entirely off the hook with moves so fresh and gritty I could barely blink for fear of missing a step. Then there was the effortlessly lighthearted Broadway-styled number between Moose and Camille; it turned my mouthends up and even let loose an unsuppressed giggle or two. Charming to a fault. Tango too was used to great effect and managed to look classy instead of the usual borderline tacky.

Accent move before movie's finale choreography

Another plus point was the storyline, which evidently had received more attention this time round - thank goodness. Instead of being a mundane vehicle to get us from danceclub to the showdown, this one made a brave attempt at portraying its male protagonist as something more than just a devoted dancer.
I should stop now. But not before saying, the whole sense of family in the movie... reminded me immensely of the peeps over at Subang! ^ ^

Drove over to Sunway Giza and chilled awhile more before parting, each with thoughts enough to keep her up for hours still. In Lienn I've found a fellow dreamer; one who made me realise I'm not victim to the brittle stems that await our kind when the rainbow gloss vanishes; one who showed me I'm stronger even than I think.

Everywhere Aches

2010-08-29T20:49:00.008+08:00

Please, I just need somewhere to cry. To show myself.

Now I know why I get on the fast lane. So I can get home, fast; I keep thinking of how I should be afraid of crashing into another car in this state.
Yes I can soothe your pain, relieve your anger, stand by you and stay up as long as you need me to, my dears. But for a moment tonight I felt I'd been a listening ear, advisor and encourager; now who was going to be mine?
With wide open eyes I listened to my girl sobs as my hands steadied the wheel.

Suddenly I felt so afraid. It never occurred to me to.
I feel so tired. Everywhere aches. But there is no pillow for my heart, no shoulder for my head and I can't rest my body. I must go on. There will always be trouble at inopportune times such as these, but I have two essay papers tomorrow and I must go on.

Flashes of Reality

2010-08-29T20:36:00.004+08:00

Clippings from recent yesterdays:

I'm at peace.

Brings tears to my eyes.
Every time.
Thank you for loving me.

Had a leisurely, quietly industrious morning in the sweet sunshine. I love this tranquil presence in me.

Hamlet for president!

You can call me anytime, in tears in heartache, and I'll be there for you.

Without knowing it, I'd made your day; and though it was not the best timing, it felt great! I liked hearing about your plans, your motivations, and how you're gonna give it all a shot even if just for knowledge's sake. It makes my world a little more meaningful, to see someone reaching just the same way I am.

Scaling Glass Walls

2010-08-22T20:47:00.005+08:00

Girl, why're you crying here?
The signs stop making sense
and you can't tell why the sudden
hurt so thick, can't see the road
for lights of streaks, every time
you blink.
Why're you driving in the fast lane?
when all you want is to go slow, and
go back where you belong.

Never peeled your own potatoes
Never had to scale glass walls
Never had so little to say while
trying to look happy.
Never thought of how, weblike, the
traffic lights could glare trapped
between your lashes.

But I will - always - carry your tea mug
behind, no matter how many times I
drive in the fast lane
without knowing why

fell out love's cradle;
I was never meant to be a baby,
always always I had to grow up
before my time

with the exception of life's sweetest days,
scores and hundreds of them
strung together in your presence. Then I tripped at the knot.

Dropped my keys - did not pick them up;
did not stop did not care did not look
until I'd reached blank sheet.

You see without looking,
hear without listening,
are here without being,
and I feel I'm alone.

So let me be; from the rooftops I'd
wanted to shout it out, now I just need to find my way down
to a safe place.
Where they keep their promises.

Author's note: Written one shot. Unembellished thoughts; merges everything important, or which was important, to me.

Imported ThDC

2010-08-07T22:26:00.014+08:00

Jam-packed week and -end. Been floating in the 'sick' region for nearly a week now; darn sore throat threatened to ruin my Wed Psych presentation but it suddenly cleared two hours before. Deliberately cut classes for the first time - two days in a row. Once to sleep in hopes of recovery, and once to burn rubber to Subang.

Last dance practice on Wed.

Last dance performance on Thurs. At least, until A2 ends in late Nov. =(

Thurs also happened to be Yee Fai's birthday; good thing it coincided with Subang's ECA Drive and they invited us to perform!

The circumstances were bad though; it was an outdoor affair and had rained thoroughly beforehand. The stage was soaked and I had to detour to pick up a hard copy of our soundtrack. Thank goodness I still made it in time.
Didn't know we were the first ones on; I hate rushing right before a performance. After rolling on the waterlogged stage and successfully ruining my hair within the first twenty seconds, I was only satisfied that I jumped decently high compared to past stage attempts!

Gosu on his way down.

After the nerves it was plain chilling.

ThDC cousins in attendance at TDC senior's birthday celebration! =)

It was good getting to know Subang more; we went to Fullhouse which I've been wanting to try for ages!

My father's now in Bangkok on seriously the best business trip. A man, an array of fishing equipment, and a body of water full of monster fish. Epic.

I looked up the firm he's checking out and found... Now this is passion.

Through fishing trips with local Thai anglers; conversations with them over many long days and nights; listening to lectures and applying all that to personal experimentation, I learned and perfected an entirely different way to fish.

Whether you're a beginner or seasoned angler ; whether you look to fish alone, with family, friends or companions; whether your budget is modest or generous; our team will help you forget - in just one day - the constraints and pressures of your hectic working life.

As far as fishing is concerned, I humbly admit that this old fisherman has learnt quite a few new tricks!
Is it not fantastic to be able to write such things, with all my experience, at 71 years of age?

It will be THE fishing event of the beginning of this millennium for Bangkok, for Thailand…my last love !

What a beauty.

Today was a full day out, productive but I'm so tired.

Things changed a little bit more on Tuesday. And even more yesterday.
I've missed being outdoors for too long. Everyday cooped up without seeing the different moods of the sun I love, forsaken in an iceberg of a concrete slab. So I went for a walk without telling anyone and it was just like last time. Even coming home, just like last time.

There was too much inside me. Too many thoughts, emotions, nuances, recollections, imaginings.
I wrote, and I wrote.

And I found myself again.

Silence Converges

2010-08-03T21:54:00.007+08:00

I love all this synergy.
The way we of contrasting styles pit our efforts to overcome our differences.
The way we ask for criticism and improve upon it, with open arms.

At the Speed of Song

2010-08-02T00:27:00.006+08:00

I won't hide from the light of day;
gonna dance 'til these doubts fall away.

Like sunbeams from behind skylines,
Like teardrops to my lap,
Like ribbons from the greatest gift,
And harsh words from your tongue.

...all long ago.

Just fall away.

BucK

2010-07-24T23:34:00.002+08:00

Sudden faith. More reason to doubt less. I'm not really worried; I just know things will work out.

And I have the patience to see the "know" through. Or I will get the patience to, darn it! =P

Not Perfectly

2010-07-24T00:51:00.009+08:00

There I was, perched on a pinnacle. After the fearsome weekend, I felt strong. And I was strong. It showed in my drive, my fearless glance, and the bright smile which lasted - 'til Thursday.

Monday was a bustle of errands.

Tuesday, first training session with Denise for this Saturday's Talent Fest. The most last-minute routine I've done, with choreography from scratch. Reached Segi after 45 minutes in the after hours jam. But it was great; I forgot the pain in my heel where the skirting stabbed it, and just danced with abandon, late into the night.

Shakespeare knew "pleasure will be paid, one time or another", as in my case, since I slept less than 4 hours that night and paid the price in a sudden dip of energy after Wednesday. Maybe my endurance wouldn't have given out just yet, with adequate sleep. But certainly, I'm living without you. Not doing it perfectly, but I am.

Wednesday was another training session with hardly any training done, hahaha. In fact, I was already slightly feverish - still am - and the hours flew by in an intense heart-to-heart with Denise. The air was all hope and strength; tears in her voice, laughter and merriment, sweetness and goodness mingled as our tongues wagged fast and furious.

"One in a million."

I won't forget the new meaning that phrase took on as she described her other half, and I found myself completely identifying with her. Dance called out, steps were in need of creation, but we sat down and just - shared.

Thursday night went out with Sean for a Shopping Mission. Indecision struck hard, darn it. But it was good seeing him again.

The Friday we'd been gearing up for rolled around. I was tired, left class prematurely to come down to an incomplete booth, and felt the old harried feeling rising in me. As in the days before I met him. Before he always fixed my problems and made me see things look better when we take a step back.
Our elaborate deco plans paid off at least; we got into the Top Ten Booths again!
I felt down, but strangely enough, this has been a day of many highlights. The sobering, uplifting, enlightening kind.

I started writing this in a moment of weakness. In every situation where my insides are threatening to combust or wither, in significant highs or lows, I write. Writing is my salvation.

Good news: My current diary has run out of empty pages, so I get to pick a new one.
Bad news: You may not feature in it.

Mere hours later,
Sean and Jaf announce they're coming over in 5.

They surprise me with a hot chocolate and it's the first Starbucks drink ever that I finish to the last sip! =] We talk. and talk. We theorise, debate and muse and I wear my worried expression alternated with my LOL one. And nearly squirt hot chocolate out my nose.
I was loathe to let them go but at least it's a cosy ending to Jaf's 19th birthday; being shooed out the compound at the stroke of midnight. =P

Then I got it. I feel so cared for, and blessed; I have them and 'nett darling and Douggie. And of course I know, somewhere out there, if Naj knew what I was going through she'd be right there swearing or blabbering a mile a minute for me. And that's good enough for me.
Here's something I thought of earlier; this week, I feel I've aged some. But also learnt some. And I'm growing, I'll pick myself up. Sometimes God says Yes, sometimes He says No.
He has said neither to me. So that means His third answer applies - Wait.

My take on love?
A recent memory;

"In actual fact, Papa is a terrible person."
-Papa himself-

Maybe I see the truth in it, but you're still my Superman.

Accepting someone for all they are.

Homegirl

2010-06-28T21:18:00.007+08:00

Last stretch of our teens, homegirl.

Somehow I'd always kept this for you, knowing it would find its way into your hands
someday.

Do You Remember?

Squeezing in all the love I can.

Long-time neighbour, friend and life influence.

To let completely go of what we had... would be sacrilege.

Don't Look For A Floor

2010-06-25T15:05:00.004+08:00

June 4th to 6th

Most important examination in my life so far; and yet, the most relaxing one.
The days flew by, panic and peace co-existing in a manner previously unimagined.

Within hours of shading the last answer in my AS,
I bid goodbye to both my favourite teacher and guy, bundled into Vinna's Cross Polo and began the vacation business without delay. X)
These were to be my HolidayHolidays before settling down for the 4-month grind preceding A2. Those four months will see me adopting a different approach to college life; something I'd always thought ideal but never found possible.

Carmen, Hong Onn, Yang Kang and I arrived at the home of Vinna's grandparents in Ipoh by evening.
Stately and lavishly furnished, it seemed we couldn't have had better free accomodation!

The stairway that had Carmen and I gushing about Beauty and the Beast.

There were graceful columns flanking the main doorway, Italian imports making up the dining set, motionless figures watching from their portrait prisons as you traversed the upper hallway,
but one particular feature which struck my fancy were the plaster murals - large painted works with a pleasing paperlike texture, mounted seamlessly onto walls.

On our last morning there I discovered a pretty one underneath the grand stairway, depicting a pair of windows opening out into a starry night. The classic teddy bear waiting by the windowsill lent a whimsical touch, reminiscent of the desire all soft toys have to run and play, as popularised by Enid Blyton.

Nearly as intriguing was a well-sized globe just behind me, white and unassuming.
Well, it didn't interest me very much until I took a closer look at Mexico which seemed to be shaped out of... red quartz. And look! Yugoslavia over there might be made of turqoise! Suddenly every nation on that globe took on a more impactful purpose of being there; they were all made of precious stone.
Interesting.

Strolling through the many rooms, I stumbled upon this sight - it took my breath away.
All around was pink and draped curtains, and the feeling of emptiness beckoning me to run for my luggage and establish myself here, right now, in this

fairy room!

I learnt something between then and now;

How to ignore the sensation of falling...
Don't look for a floor.

Yeah I always used to wonder who'd catch me when I fall,
said years ago
I promise I'll be here for myself, even if no one else is.

And to think
I used to write your name in the misted mirrors of yesterday,
used to dream and smile and then lay both down 'cause there was no truth in your eyes.
No more dreaming
No more reaching
'Cause you weren't worth my tears; I cried for the grey morning that now turned pain against me.

For a while at least

But I wouldn't let hope die; I dreamed on 'til you found me.

It was an odd reverie, that Monday night.
It was as though the past several hours of unconscious, enveloping comfort suddenly wobbled and - under the weight of thought - warped into a specimen for inspection. A prod. A wriggle. A need to be fully conscious; an unexplaination for this internal pantomime.

A place which felt like home
but wasn't mine.

Why, of all things, am I in possession of the need to think about happiness? More specifically, of happiness when I have it. When it's a constant presence in my life.
Sometimes I cannot figure myself out.

Tea at the curiosity-inciting Indulgence!
Best free meal I've ever had.

I liked the personal feel of the menu-listed names,
the warm and vibrant colours everywhere including the washroom,
and the originality of their offerings.
(Most of them, anyway.)

After a whole day on our feet
and a cardio workout for our wallets. XD

Our lovely host Vinna is seen here crouching in embarrassment 'cause her shopping bags were outside in a truck waiting for us to make way.
I'm kidding; she didn't buy anything 'cause she was going to Singapore for her shopping instead. =P

Girl Meets Life Aspiration

Nahh, how about

Easily Removable Clothing (no sleeves to turn inside out)
+
Loaded Wallet (cash or card, pick your poison)
+
Store-powered Stamina (as long as there are shops in sight, she keeps on going!)
+
OoohYeahBaby Environment
=
Shopaholic Unleashed ^ ^ *Rawrr*

Shoe-shopped 'til I dropped!

All cosied up

June 11th

After weeks and days of being kept in the dark, Kendrick's plans were unveiled to me at last. And it still makes me want to laugh, 'cause he's not the kind who plans faaar in advance - he's not like me.

The rain called for a change in plan; he had that covered and the evening went fine and dandy at Kenny Vale.
Then he took me for a play - Beauty and the Beast.
First of all, I've always wanted to be brought to see a play - without having to ask.
Secondly, the past few years have got me curious about Sri Cempaka's annual productions - seemingly topnotch by school standards.
He shot two arrows through my one heart that night.

The opening was promising; elaborate props and style-appropriate costumes.
Then the first highlight of the play happened for me: when Belle sang her sweet high notes to tell us that the protaganist of her favourite book wouldn't appear "'til chapter three~". Even in the movie, that moment always stood still for me.

Quality work all through; a faithfully followed script, a delightfully dashing and debonnaire Lumiere, a beautiful and accurately-timid Belle with a splendid voice to match, and another character worth noting was Gaston - devilish in his cocky arrogance. =D

Midnight drew near; Cinderella alighted with a smarting ankle out of the pumpkin we did not - after all - purchase.
After the day's earlier formalities - to suit me, what transpired was as natural and unceremonious as someone like him could have wished for.

And I set off his house alarm within minutes of becoming his girlfriend.

June 12th

Anan and I went to Plus8 for dinner.
Expected a mamak since it looked like Rasta from afar but it was a little more upscale than that - a high-class mamak! Hahah

Wide choice of Western and Chinese; we settled for rice and dishes since the Lychee Chicken sounded tempting - and turned out simply delicious! Had that together with Mayonnaise Prawns - fresh, generous helping.

He sat back before the plates were cleared and let me do the honours. So I was pret- make that very full by the end of dinner.

But I had to do justice to the beautiful cake he surprised me with; baked mere hours ago by his pastry chef friend in Sheraton where he works.

Dark Chocolate Mousse Cake
Topped with strawberries, raspberries and gold leaf.
*Droooools*

Week Three of June

A lively one of Going Out and reacquainting myself with the piano.

Watched Karate Kid with Kendrick, followed by rock climbing which left me powerless to wear any of the five pairs of shoes I'd bought in Ipoh - flipflops were the only footwear that wouldn't hurt. Life's irony. =P

Talked all day long with 'nett, quality bonding time despite a dreadful ulcer. Cheap and delicious lunch at HongKong Point, Centrepoint!
Music practice at night, and a headache.

Monster tummy upset for my soulmate Najjua. Recovered in time for us to have tea at Tutti Frutti regarding which she made the
Quote of the hols: "I gotta kluakan monay dulu. Is a gold diggin place man."

Prom Night
which I totally skipped, ahah.
Spent it with Kendrick instead, and an express snack-smuggling operation, and The A-Team.

Two music practices in one day which quite drained me.

Father's Day, on which my father gave an afterthought call to say
"Don't come for dinner just because it's Father's Day, if you're tired,"
which sounded silly to me 'cause of course I'd go no matter what; naps were meant for that purpose!

June 21st & 22nd

Was dreadfully late for our Solaris date, but things righted themselves soon enough.
A whole day with Kendrick, what else could I ask for?
To my satisfaction, we did spring-cleaning for his wardrobe and part of his room; Meet the Family didn't really work out hahah, but little Kenneth made up for it by insisting he stay at home with us instead of following everyone else to the airport. =)

Lake Gardens, where a frog hurtled onto his shoulder and bounced off me, and into the night.
Kendrick stomping around looking to kill the bugger.

Tea at Delicious with Kendrick.
Done, done, done.
Both families taken care of.

June 23rd

Day out in Cheras, hosted by Carmen. The Korean bakery - and the sole attraction of South City Plaza - was closed, so all I bought there was a scrunchie.
Went on to do the Mines where I got a new schoolbag and a pair of flipflops. I knOw this is the third pair I've gotten these hols, but it's in a whole different league, I'm serious!! X)

Continued the eating at Connaught night market - longest in the Klang Valley - without a cent in my pocket (figuratively, since I never do keep anything in my pockets).
Denied myself many purchases but still had a decent time on borrowed money.

And now with a play tonight and three more appointments to keep, I hereby announce myself flat broke.
Let the congratulations pour in.

Drab Dyspathy

2010-06-01T18:38:00.006+08:00

Out I stood,
searching for the sunset that'd still my disquiet.
But all was grey, and silent, cold mist and fog.

One band of light, to it I looked
'til acid flash snapped my trance in recoil.
'twas that mocking foe; light, blithe, and gay - everything I was not.

Thinking of all the times you made me smile,
Tracing the hard corner of this arch against the downy background of clouds - so bland.
What are they compared to us?

But I will do this. I said I would.

Sugar Shivers

2010-05-19T09:30:00.006+08:00

First there was The Checklist, all ticked. Then there was the everything else that I didn't dare put on The Checklist for fear of never having them ticked.

This one had the many, many things I'd been looking for and never thought I'd find so soon. Well, I didn't - he found me. The very moment I wasn't searching or looking out for him. But then, that's often how the most fantastic things happen. Just like that.

I've had sugar shivers sent down my spine before,
sweet everythings which amounted to nothing,
happy imaginings laid down in the face of sober truth;
walkaways from never-could-be's-so-I'm-not-hanging-around.

And I've learnt. It all tells me I've found someone.
Someone who will last. Someone who won't fade away.

She Buried Her Father, I Buried My Dream.

2010-04-25T21:04:00.016+08:00

It's been a week of high drama. Two separate plots have made a deep impression in me during that single timeframe:
the passing away of my close friend's father,
and the near-achievement of a long-cherished yearning.
In the end, it is dreams which have come back to aid me in their role of comforting, and guiding us with their deeper wisdom.

Exactly a week ago, I visited Uncle Albert in University Hospital. He was Giovana's father, and she is the closest thing I have to a sister. Over a year of fighting with nose cancer had reduced this macho man to nothing more than a vessel of pain. I thought it better for Gio to be away from his heart-wrenching moans, so we went for a walk.
That was the last time I saw him alive.
Just an hour later, I sat with my own father at dinner. Wanting to make the best use of those few hours we spend together each week, I blurted out the mains of the Vienna Opera Ball - and that I wanted to go. Didn't have to wait long to know I hadn't started right. Or that maybe there was no right way to tell it, any way I tried.

I came home and sat on the proposal for two days. Yes, I sent a proposal to my own father explaining the Ball that takes place in the Vienna State Opera only once a year, making it the most prestigious Ball in the birthplace of the Viennese Waltz... doesn't get better than that.
Two years ago I learnt about this... and stored it away as one of the things to pursue when the time came. And now it has come, in the form of Reinhard Polt - my chance to be a debutante in Vienna come 3rd March 2011.

Once-in-a-lifetime; this is no exaggeration, for the Austrian Embassy is narrowing down the number of international debutantes starting 2012, and anyway after this chance I'll be too old come out of uni to dance as a debutante... the age limit is from 15 to 22.
Everything looked ripe for the picking, my dream was glistening and taking solid form in the palm of my hand; all I had to do was curl my fingers around it...

It was the hardest No in my life. Truly and honestly. How can I make you understand the crumbling of castles around your eyes that I experienced on Wednesday night?
Just like the mirror proposal, I'd put together a meticulous document under three-and-a-half hours. The next day, what I understood was that I'd been given the green light but then it turned out to be a glaring red. I got the first inkling of a misunderstanding, followed by horror seeping in and eroding the dream like acid. It was also the worst non-shouting scolding my father has given me. Of course it wasn't just about the Ball. Of course there were other things tied in to the issue; that's always been the way my family fights.
So there's one good proposal, and one sh*t - according to him. He has never sworn at me before. That's why I couldn't cry yet; I was too angry.
But I broke down after he hung up.

Next night: Thursday
Attended the memorial service of my sister's father - my first Christian one. It was decidedly cheerful - fullhouse party, anyone? - though the eulogies reminded us of our solemn reason for gathering. Was excited when Gio's turn approached; she was nervous, but I thought she could do it. Her speech was humorous in opening, unintentionally lengthy in closing, but the thing that made us all proud of her was her composure which strengthened with every line uttered.
It made me think. I'd been encouraged to still send in my debutante application that morning; just in case my father changed his mind before September. I was tempted; I still hoped. But it was there I saw what I needed to do: how could I chance further displeasure from him through disobedience if I ever wanted to speak with the same confidence my sister did? For all my financial stability, Gio has showed me the peace that comes with the secure knowledge of her father leaving for a better place. If mine were to go now, I couldn't say the same. And I want that kind of memorial service for my father. I want it for him, that his mortal suffering will not pale in comparison to his eternal damnation; I want it for myself, that I need not remain behind in regret and pain every passing day.

So, visions of white gloves up to my elbows, Swavroski tiara on cascading spirals, rose posy in my hand and waltzing all night in a stunning gown; I bury you.

And what of dreams which flit through our slumbering minds?
It was actually a dream on Thursday night that made me take a stand on the Ball conundrum. I dreamt of choosing a packet of gourmet-chicken-filled-buns for dinner with my mom. I'd put down my chocolate drink momentarily, boba pearls at the bottom.

When I woke up, I understood.
Meat represents learning from life experiences; I was to take last night's lesson at the memorial service to heart.
Chocolate, which comes under sweets, can be interpreted two ways: the one that applies to me now is the need to focus on the basics - I'll feel less inclined to wish after what I do not need.
Just like that, God has supplied me the answer I needed.

Yesterday's ballroom workshop was more tiring but also more fun! Met a few interesting ladies - again I was thought to have learnt ballet previously - and polished up our waltz, rock'n'roll, and cha cha. Highlight of yesterday was doing the Viennese Waltz with Mr. Polt. Like what I've read, it really felt like we were flying across the floor! I never thought my legs could actually think on their own - because certainly my mind wasn't keeping up with the increase in pace, it was probably gaping at my legs' independence! And then he lifted me up into the air and I descended with a swirl of my skirt. Sans ballgown, sans tiara... but still, something I've wanted to do all my life.

"Heart, stop aching."

2010-04-16T18:49:00.011+08:00

I was kneeling down to scoop rice into the pot, and she whipped my face with the kitchen towel in her hand. She hates you. She hates everything you've done to her, and she's displacing that hate onto me whenever I remind her of you.

Is there any guy who can handle my issues? No one as yet. That's why I choose to stand solo, holding myself together. It's not like another pair would know how to.

On another matter, it's been a long time since I've felt this kind of fear. The kind that makes me want to swerve, pull back, to avoid facing it.

We didn't manage to get enough people for the ballroom workshop.
Which most likely meant Mr. Polt would call it off. He isn't called Dance Master for nothing, is he? Should probably spend his time on things more important than a little Dance Club who can't even meet his minumum requirement in numbers.

Actually, to me, 'Dance Master' meant someone who appreciates the art enough to carry the love that comes with it wherever he goes. Someone who sees beyond the red tape and protocol because he can't help but share his knowledge with those who earnestly seek it.

I averted my eyes when his reply came. Now was the time to shrink into a furball and get vacuumed into ignorance.
I put the phone away as I went about my chores.

I knew I'd be able to deal with it; in my head I was prepared to send out cancellation texts with sincere apologies, notify Subang to remove the invitation, and shoulder the responsibility of taking the blame. Just like a President should.

Half an hour later I dared myself to look it full on. And learnt a lesson in self-inflicted suffering. It was the kindest text and brought tears to my eyes as I registered his promise, "You can count on me!" In short, he was saying he knew I'd done my best... and he'd do his too. It was the miracle I'd told Carmen we needed, this morning.

We'll meet you in spirit, sir.

Heart, stop aching. I know it's been a sore day, but you've got to keep on beating. So I can live for tomorrow.

Thank you, God. So much.

Love Game

2010-04-16T17:02:00.000+08:00

"Nicole, I know you're tempted to have your finger in every pie and to make copies of all those documents so you can know the littler details, but don't. Keep your head in the CAL game."

Love,
your better self.

So This is What it Means, to Have Your Heart on Paper...

2010-04-15T00:12:00.014+08:00

Sunday
Led Jaf all the way to Sunway Pyramid to watch Alice in Wonderland 'cause it wasn't showing anywhere else anymore. But the ticket still cost 12 bucks! Suspect. - -
Found the world within the movie fairly fascinating, especially since I never finished reading the books. Ended the Day Off with my first foot reflexology massage, in an Uptown outlet with pleasant lighting and pretty curtains.

Monday
LAN project photoshoot in the library. Of all places, you may think. Unless you've seen our library, then you pretty much may abolish that thought.

Douglas and Yang Kang in a broil.

The kiss and make up.

Slid one shoe off 'cause afraid of getting told off by librarian, haha.
Was actually surprised no one chased us away for climbing onto the table.

Mm hmm.

Carmen's solo shot for credits.

Mine; for once my nose looks remotely sharp.

It's a LAN project; so yeah, 1Malaysia.

'B'ecause I'm caught between the reasons not to, and the maybe's of what could be.

Stepped into ECA office, had trouble extricating myself from it,
scooted off to Midvalley for more hanging out! Before that we'd taken lunch at a yummeh Korean place in Desa Sri Hartamas - another one of my enjoyable walk-in attempts.

We were late for collection of tix. Parked at my least fav lot (Zone G) and dashed for the counters.
Carmen and I bought a new set at the reservation counter, then started looking for Hong Onn and YK. I was just saying, "Hope they haven't bought another set on their own...", when Carmen twisted her head to check the regular counters. And spotted the very pair.
What ensued was like a scene out of a TV drama, with Carmen yelling their names and myself doing the inevitable "StOPpPpPp!!!" while sprinting past stunned onlookers. Drama sial.

Well, The Lovely Bones was worth the chaos. Heavy stuff. It had amazing writers who made us smile,
laugh,
cry,
clutch out companions in suspense,
and tear up again
before another lighthearted twist.
All happened seamlessly. More of a thriller and less of the weepy-story I'd thought it would be. The graphics in 'heaven' were quite attractive, but the movie could've avoided being draggy by cutting down on 'heaven' and flashback time.

Wednesday
Do you believe in love at first sip?
Until this day, I didn't.

But Bobalicious Smoothies took me by the heartstrings and looks to be master for a long time to come.
Their product fuses smoothies and bubble tea pearls - two of my favourite things on earth.
What's more, their smoothie is of the right slushy consistency (as all true smoothies should be) and their boba (that's what the pearls are made of) is chewy in the swellest degree, unlike those ripoff pearls which end up mushy and sticking to your teeth.

HellooOo sexayy.

Thursday
Met with the Austrian dance master who'll - God willing - be conducting our Ballroom Course; Reinhard Polt.

He towered over us, even our own Ms. Cheryl in heels. Had genial manners and a thick accent which was fortunately easier to understand in real life than over the phone. According to what I learnt on TV last time, this is because we subconsciously read people's lips when meeting them in person. Obviously, this is impossible on the phone.

His taxi took some time to find the college from Bangsar station, so we waited at the reception lounge. And that's where a very rewarding moment took place for me.

Mr. Rahul was approaching, I looked up to greet him, but it was snatched out of my mouth when he paused and said:

"Good proposal."

It was just one of those moments which tell you, heart and soul, that your effort has paid off and your fears unfounded.

I'd toiled for hours tailoring that proposal in the wee hours of a March night,
looking up and comparing formats,
fleshing out a skeleton of points,
reading and rereading,
pruning paragraphs,
and most of all - writing with my heart.
Truly had no clue how 'formal' the formal proposal had to be; was expecting to get corrected by any one of the higher authorities for letting emotion seep through my writing, but I kept the 'emotional' lines which embodied my sentiments whole.

And there we have it, the proposal for the mirror that's gonna be here for the next dozen generations of dancers. Even though I may never train for competition in front of it... This has been my vision for the Club this year. And next year I want them to take it further; use this mirror well and do something we couldn't before it came.
Turn it into the heart and home of all our dancers.

Now the stress is focused on the upcoming ballroom course - can we find enough people in time?
I really, really want to learn and go to Vienna for the real ball. Or at least just learn for the love of dancing.

Being here has taught me so much. I thank God for placing me in this role though I'd once tried to slip out of it. And a few times after, I'd questioned my will to continue in this position.
My head declared I couldn't take it; my heart said stay.

You Give Me Pomelo-atic Dreams

2010-04-12T01:41:00.003+08:00

Third time's the charm, or so they say.
It certainly was a thrill to be able to accept TDC's third party invite last Friday, to celebrate Ian's birthday.

Lien Siaw and I drove over to Sierramas East and waited ages thinking we were at Sierramas West. T.T
That didn't dampen our spirits, though. The guests from TDC were so hospitable, it set us at ease soon enough.

Note: Lien Siaw wearing Chia Sern's glass-less specs.

It really warms my heart to recall how readily they extended their arms to welcome us ThDC reps.

Chia Sern lost the geeky specs, and I nearly believed he was wrongly tagged on Fb when I saw his photo the night before.

He was so hungry he started picking on the closest thing to him - which, before the biscuits came, happened to be me. Lol, just kidding. But it's true the guys began teasing me loong before Yee Fai and his carload of seven appeared on the scene.

I was standing on a ledge. =)
He's actually kinda tall.

Sushi served, in addition to satay, pasta, pizza and salad.

Well, the boys were so into making fun of Yee Fai and I that when the fellow in question really showed up, I felt like hiding under the table haha.
Yes. That table.

In the foreground we have Derek (a junior)
and Mabel (perky senior).

When I saw him, the first thing that crossed my mind was
He looks so tired...

And he really was. Two hours in one of KL's horrendous jams is no walk in the park.
He grabbed a quick bite and then curled up - but we'd give him no rest. X)

All bow to Master Fai!

Hilarious. He woke up and we scattered like ants from a descending shoe.

Besides my uncle's, I've never seen a grand piano in anyone's house before.

Sheng trying to appear less noob than he actually is, at the piano. =P

Then Ian brought down his saxophone and demo-ed.

*Flying kisses from TDC*

"Is the temperature alright, ma'am?"

Rofl! Jake getting a 'hair perm' from Ian and Chia Sern.

The Avatar pose I complied with.
An exhausted Yee Fai in the background.

Alan and Gosu were lobbying all night for this cause. - -''
That Alan, popping up at every opportunity to steer me towards Fai Fai.

Birthday gifts:
Ian with the vibrating headrest from Lien Siaw,
and one complicated, belted jacket (obviously chosen by girls)
above a simple, striped hoodie (obviously selected by guys).

ThDC left early, before even getting to see Ken Ming, Daniel and the rest.
Well at least they had a blast that night, and shared the first slice with us.
=)

As The River Flows

2010-04-10T12:38:00.016+08:00

Tuesday, Carmen took me on a long-promised excursion to Decanter. I sat happily in the passenger seat looking about at the National Science Centre from sides I'd never seen before. Soon I found myself in Bukit Damansara and continued noting places of interest while Carmen drove around in circles trying to pinpoint Decanter's location.

At 3.01pm, we pulled up triumphantly at the shopfront.

And gaped at the ironically cheerful blackboard announcing they were closed for cleaning at 3pm that day.
Honestly!!
I was rather let down; the white wooden framework was exactly my cup of tea, and the menu seemed equally inviting. A waiter, clearly amused by our plight, told us we could go over to the other Decanter at Setiakasih - just a few roads away.

So we took heart and began the hunt once more.

Alas, it was obviously a pub and not the sort of place for a sunshiney lunch like we wanted. This time was no dismay, though, for nearby beckoned an understated establishment simply named The Bread Shop.

The name was enough to pull us in.

I found the exterior deceptively simple,
speaking nought of the stylish atmosphere within.

What a sight. The interior kept to the minimalist theme, but was tastefully done up in black, distressed metal and shades of wood lending their warmth.

It was a place with pastries screaming "take-me-home!"

No need for a fancy signboard outside, I now understood.
It had an obviously loyal clientele; I gathered by observing a steady stream of poised expatriates and trendy moms come to buy the bread after picking up their Sri Cempakan children.

And for good reason too;
our tea spread came close to RM50.

Now, don't let the prices take away your appetite,

the Mango Cheese Chicken Croissant was decidedly tasty!
Its cheese was melted into the bread, a move surreptitious enough to please anti-diary-product consumers like me!

Scones for the price of two lunches.
Would you like those with cream and jam?
Of course. Don't they always come together?

Apparently not here. A serving of clotted cream means an extra RM1, and for jam it's RM2.
The jam was slightly bitter compared to those in other teahouses, but together with the cream it was still good.

Hot cross buns. Real hot cross buns.
That's all I could think when I saw them behind the glass.

Before I'd swallowed my first mouthful, I realised I'd tasted this before...
A familiar aroma similar to that of a freshly painted house filled my nostrils and I forced myself to down the next several bites.
Next time, I'll just say it once.
Hot cross buns.

Cinnamon Swirl was named after two of my favourite things on earth though, so of course I ordered it.
And enjoyed it, nonwithstanding its tad excess in sweetness.

I only consider the Iced Chocolate a ripoff. There was nothing, nothing out of the ordinary to justify its above-average price tag. Just the usual cupful of milk with normal-grade chocolate syrup at the bottom.

All in all, a lovely outing.
I delight in driving wherever the road takes us, and stumbling upon exciting new eateries. Preferably the quintessential cafe.
Mmmm~

Return to the geeky retainers. X)
Two back molars growing at the same time, making it necessary to wear them full-time.

Varied response to them in college, ranging from:
"Since when...?"
and
"It's cool."
to
*Unrelenting shake of the head*

=) Well, at least now I can explain the sudden crookedness in my bottom row of teeth!

In Hand

2010-04-08T12:46:00.003+08:00

Just booked my tickets for West Side Story, mid-AS.

It.feels.so.good!

Growing Like A Bamboo Shoot

2010-04-08T10:56:00.013+08:00

Everyone seems to have a clear idea of how other people should live their lives, but none about his or her own.

-The Alchemist-

Finally, I'm reading it! After years and months of putting it off. Yesterday I decided to treat myself to taking this hotcake home - to celebrate the end of AS trials. And before that, a group of us popped down to Pavilion for How to Train Your Dragon which - awww darnit - had some pretty cute dragons featured. Storyline was typical of a son-railing-against-father's-expectations tale, but the fanciful life of dragons - their characteristics, behaviour - engaged the audience well enough to compensate.

The boys cramming in for aircond while waiting for Vinna to change her outfit and pick us up.

Faces from left to right are of Aaron, Abhinav and Yohan.
Imran, Hari and Douglas are somewhere behind them. X)

Hmmm I think this was Aaron on Douggie.

Came back in time for another fruitful meeting with my organising committee for the Club's soon-to-be charity concert. I love how these occasions end up teaching me so much - in fact, my only vexation is how long everyone takes to show up. Precious time is lost!
Interviewing the committee members one by one allowed me to see from an employer's point of view; began to suss out the necessity of the questions which often make the interviewee squirm in their seat.
Interesting, really.

Strange-woman-who-smiles-at-me (how Red Indian is my vocab these days) seems to have joined the ranks of the remarkable people I've met in college; most of whom seem to be meant for a pitifully short term at TCSH.

These who have impacted me on a personal level include Ms. Thinking Skills (from scarily brilliant to respectfully human), Mr. Lee (the funniest, most candid Math lecturer) and - never forgotten - Ms. Ratnes (the best teacher I've ever had). I hate how the last three are all going, going, gone. At least we still have the powerhouse Ms. Anne for Lit!

Here's something I realise they have in common: all are highly experienced in their field, and that's what garnered my initial respect. But all also have personalities and attitudes which stand to firmly prop up their intellectual prowess - no wishy washy giggling here.

Of Ads and Building Blocks

2010-04-01T22:55:00.009+08:00

Lately, an ad has caught my eye repeatedly and every time I read it, I snigger, or laugh, or smile. Different responses, but inside is the same admiration for the people behind the ad - especially its writers.

The only other ad to attract my attention this way was the Nike one featuring Josiah Ng, two years ago. I loved the tone of absolution in its lines; the chalky explosion of graphics behind my then-most-admired-sportsman, and the ending realisation of "I am... Courage." giving me that prod in the chest to wake up and see:
I needed to be brave enough to say No to my weaknesses. To want to break away from them. The distractions, the procrastination, the whatever that was keeping me from focusing on my SPM. That ad taught me that determination works the same way for a scholar as it does for a world-class athlete.

Now I'm starting to see where a major in Literature can take you. Not that I'm planning to do that. I'm pretty much set on Finance, Business or Economics. Just gotta sift through the finer details to know which I want. Or, I may discover something altogether different in the process. Like a returned interest in Fashion Marketing or some other. Accounting is something I could live with, but not choose to live for.

Back to the ad. Initially, I was merely drawn to the visual concept laid down - clean and uncluttered. I decided I liked it so much that I'd spend some time deciphering the tiny words the man figure seemed to be made up of. And boy, did it tickle me.

This ad has been critisized as feminist; misogynous, even.
But I snicker at the deadpan take on metrosexuality and, as quoted, "our genderless society" where there are now three options on official forms in some parts of the world:
Male or Female or Neither

I love the quaint reference to those "little old ladies" who "remain on one side of the street" as boys turn into self-centred, pruning creatures more concerned with turning heads than turning theirs to offer help.

And the remark on non-fat lattes and the salad bar?
Amusing, at the very least. Makes you think of the state the world has come to.

But I'm glad to affirm that there are still gentlemen bred into this generation. In one week alone, three different guys have held the door open as I traversed between carpark and college. Note: All three were strangers. And one of them even waited as I was quite some distance away.
That was a little while back, but I'll remember it fondly to know that we ladies still have a chance of getting our gallant knight.

Necessity is the mother of invention. Necessity has found me a new approach to studying;
I call it block mugging.
Thought I could never do schedules, couldn't stick to one.
But with my self-invented method, I should be able to redeem myself in the one month left to AS.
Okay, so it may have been used by others before me, but at least I thought of it myself; not by reference to them, teehee.

I feel like I can go go go.
Oooooyeah.

Reacquaintance with the Manual

2010-03-14T22:00:00.005+08:00

What's that feeling when you are so drained from within that breathing is just as tiring as not breathing? Something similar to dejection. Ah, that's it. Heartsick. Came to mind because I feel the drain happening from there. It's like trying to draw breath from a deep, deep pit and your lungs never really fill 'cause there's just too much darkness weighing down the air.

Where are the fragmented thoughts which used to spew from the tips of my fingers; the result of fragmented periods of existence? I feel them returning, as a shadow takes its turn from sunbeam at nightfall. I've been happy, last week. The kind of happy that people ordinarily don't think about, but which I wonder at.

So I'm back here once more.

Why the chosen post title? I thought it'd be fun to have a turn behind the wheel of a manual this evening. Hadn't touched one since passing the driving test, more than a year ago.
This was a jeep so square and masculine it seemed so foreign. Taut, black leather seats and a wide glass panel to see the road through, with funny little wipers I'd like to fix onto my umbrella. And doors which are pushed open by button, and slam shut of their own accord, so don't leave ur leg dangling out the chassis - or else.

Well, it was nearly as bad as learning from scratch. By the time I got into my own car, it felt like a welcome home. Sank into the perfectly moulded seat. Shut the door myself. Locked, handbraked down and changed gear. It felt like a toy car now. The comparison could be of one between beef jerky and putty. Turned the steering wheel - too hard - and took a few minutes to reaccustom to my ultra-sensitive brake. My head started spinning and I got onto the highway.

It's not about the driving episode. There were other things. It's about how nothing seems to progress though you seem to be trying so hard.

I came home and cried and tried to dance the tears away.

February

2010-03-13T21:38:00.004+08:00

12th to 17th
Family vacation (mother's side) in Gold Coast, Australia. More precisely, on the Sovereign Islands just off Gold Coast. Not enough interesting eating done, I thought. But it was a rare occasion on which I enjoyed Thai food, since it was watered down for non-Asian taste. Did all my shopping on the second last day; never have I put all my shopping skills to such good use before - or been forced to!

It was actually stressful, but I knew that if I paced myself and moved fast, I could pull this off. Spending every dollar was the challenge - don't deny every thing that seems whimsical; don't purchase every thing that seems indispensable. I had to stretchhhh my dollars to last 'til the last souvenir, but at the same time accomodate the trinkets that came before I found it.
Champion purchase? Beautiful hardcover notebooks that I'll only use for something as important as my wedding week. XP And I found good dance pants there for RM21!! *Dies of joy*

20th
Movie night with Sean and Jaf:
Legion first. Rather creepy but at the same time its creepiness seemed generic. Monstrous beings scuttling along the ceiling, sinister music spelling out fatal mistake, and self-blame for another's death. But Paul Bethany was interesting to watch; there's something about his mouth which draws the eye.
Then Percy Jackson and the Lightning Thief was a major disappointment. Waste of time, even. Well I don't think the other Greek mythology flick of the year (Clash of the Titans) will turn out this bad. =) It's about time; I've liked Greek mythology for years.
Left MV for Yann's CNY open house. Mandarins are somewhat addictive. *So are ang pau's* XP

Mostly this year I've been busy running the Dance Club. Sometimes I want to cut myself some slack and just do my collegework. Wanna stop the downward slide I'm been experiencing in classes this sem.. But I can't. I've committed myself to my role, and though I've never imagined holding this position, I know in my heart I'd rather be a Nobody in Dance Club than a Somebody on the Student Council. 'Cause this is where I want to be. I want to learn, and being President has taught me so much already. First of all, that it really is about serving my members. It's about doing the things others won't, like staying back and staying up and calling left right centre.

Perhaps I'll continue another day. It's been a tiring one, with house chores all morning and music practice all evening and waking up early for keyboard duty tomorrow. Where does collegework fit in? When does the Scholar get to breath from under the DutifulDaughter, the ChurchGoer, and the ClubPresident?

My focus needs airing.

Trials are two weeks away, and the Scholar needs air to breath.

A Minute or Two in Jan's Sunshine

2010-03-13T17:45:00.000+08:00

(way overdue)

...was what I spent just before I ran in to make this post - the one I kept putting off, always telling myself there'd be another time when I'd feel less preoccupied. But I never did. The days just rolled one into another, in a cycle as blameless as it is natural; and who am I to stop the order of nature?

I love the sunshine on my lashes, the wind on my cheek. Birdsong cuts through the air, like a forgotten lullaby - my old friends, I am glad to still hear you. Powdered wings flit around and past me; now I barely flinch. Maybe it's true I shall grow out of this fear someday.

Locomotion through the slits in my garden walls bring me out of reverie; but no, it is not the brown dog I was hoping to recognise. And its owner, not the leather-skinned old man who used to grin at us as we pedalled our bicycles across the road in haste, in the sort of fear little children have when they see a sharp-toothed critter coming their way (the dog, not the man).
With a pang of regret, I am unable to recall the last time I saw the brown dog on one of its evening walks. I only remember the shock I felt when, a few years ago, I noticed both dog and owner had grown scrawny and aged together, like partners heading for the same deathbed. And I wonder if he has indeed gone, on to the next world.

I'll now seize the chance to run through the many happenings of January!

9th
Second time in my life hanging out with my cousins from my father's side. They're closer to me in age but we're quite distant. Am glad my older girl cousin takes the initiative to bring us out. We spent the day at Sunway Pyramid drinking smoothies, feasting on Sakae Sushi delectables (scallops were a hot choice with me, thanks to their sprinkling of black pepper), playing pool and basically ignoring the gloves and socks we'd brought for ice-skating.

Lol, one delay led to another and by the time we were done taking photos at Dreamworld, a two-hour spell in chairs sounded nice. Which brought us to Cirque du Freak: The Vampire's Assistant. Rightly relegated down my list of 'Movies I Wanna Watch' beforehand, it was entertaining in a commonplace way, with characters two-dimensional to the point of being hackneyed (except for the slightly enigmatic Crepsley, well done to John C. Reilly), and a paltry romance subplot thrown in like an afterthought. Just alright.

10th
Michelle Too's newborn sister's full moon party. Scrumptious servings provided by caterers; I had two mid-sized rounds!
Rushed off for the highly anticipated Sherlock Holmes. Was supposed to be a treat for my mother - I lent her my Sherlock Holmes novels later, she was having a binge on him - but was pleased 'nett could join us as well. The show was really good! The writers did the character justice, bringing out his trademark wry humour, uncanny observations, superior intellect, and most of all... his wit. I loved how it was done, especially the men's facial expressions. In comparison with Cirque du Freak, the love interest here hit it off, providing an interesting collage of rivalry, enticement, and undeniable chemistry.

11th
Glad it was a holiday from college. Attended the burial of Giovana's grandmother. I woke up close to 6 in the morning and in my haste forgot to bring my phone along. Only realised when I wanted to call Gio while stuck in a jam outside Summit.
It was a Buddhist affair, an echo of my grandfather's funeral rites - he was my closest relative ever to die, and I was only 6 - except now I was observing it with more understanding. I remember my grandfather's rites as a happy occassion, playing catching to our heart's content, and I, relishing my ability to outrun them.

On this day, my sister seemed calm and unperturbed. Perhaps she'd already spent the worst of her sorrow the preceding weekend - the soul left on Fri, burial was on Mon. Only her mother cried, and hid her eyes behind shades. We had a sunny morning all the way; with dolefully cheerful music coming from traditional instruments, and incense permeating the air - not that I had any particular objection to that.
Gio took me to see the deceased when we reached (it was near Dewan Bahasa and Pustaka in KL). I looked at the elderly figure who had always been in my sister's life, who'd seen me periodically growing up beside Gio, whom I'd shared a vacation bedroom with when I was 13, whom I'd heard snoring... now devoid of life.
After that brief moment, the morning passed with several prayer sessions. Standing at the back and smilingly refusing the joss sticks, we had the view of all other relatives bowing, shuffling and basically waiting for the next instruction to bow. Honestly, if I learnt one Chinese word this day, it was "bai". Several other humorous observations struck me, but I don't recall them now.
A bus to the cemetery. Tying a red sash to my sister. Feeling very 'ang moh'-ish as she translated the priest's instructions. A clod of earth thrown atop the coffin with strictly just one hand. Back onto the bus and back to Subang.

We took advantage of Gio's leave and spent the afternoon at Summit. Lunch at Hainan Chef to see Aunty Karen, then peeked into every photo store to find my cousin - the only one of my age.

12th
Went to the Placement Centre in Taylor's Subang with Carmen. All on account of some important uni-application form. On impulse, I dropped in at the studio across the road. TDC was busy rehearsing for the next day's flashmob and they were using Tik Tok! Somehow or other they got me standing on a chair, recruiting dancers for my flashmob. Which paid off, since half my mob was imported from Subang. Afterwards, I brought Carmen to Patisfrance for a customary 4 scoops of gelato, before picking up something for her mother's designer business.

14th Got my wish, but at a price. Came back late from college, no electricity at home. Got lost on the way to KL Pac. Had problems collecting our tickets. But I did it. Went for Men in Tutus and it was worth it. Funny, engaging, brilliant execution by the hulking ballerinas.

16th Unexpectedly marvellous reports from from all lecturers at the Parent-Teacher Meeting. I felt like a mushroom whose shelter rock had just been removed; the sun was dazzling. But my academics went downhill right after that - this new semester.

22nd Trained hard the whole week leading to this ECA Drive Day. ThDC's first flashmob ever was a success! I was too anxious to demo at the Club booth. Why hadn't Subang called to confirm if I could go get them now? So I left Sri Hartamas a little late and it was jam the way back and Subang crew and I arrived with 5 minutes to spare 'til performance time. I hadn't peed, eaten, or drank in hours. But it was time to go. I remember how my lips cracked into a smile for the audience and how very dry my throat felt as I danced - parched as the sands of Gobi.

30th Showdown 2010 auditions with TDC. Met up unplanned; visit ThDC's blog for details and pics. =]

Review the old Sun, Sea, Sand... It's Sights, Sorbets and Shopping!

2010-02-11T17:08:00.007+08:00

Vacation Notice :

Feeling rather drained after college today. Worked crazy last night completing three different subs, and preparing Valentine's gifts for today's celebration. I hadn't planned to do anything, but the idea just took root in my head yesterday and I went ahead with it - especially as I was conveniently eating in OU that night. Dressing gifts and writing are, after all, two things I really enjoy!

It would take a lot of oppression for a girl not to feel excited about flying off to the Gold Coast the very next day; maybe it's not oppression but fatigue that's dampening my spirits. A good night's sleep should put that to rights though, and I foresee myself being cheered up by being in the presence of my adoring cousins - who themselves are sugar, and spice, and free of lice. X)

Back in the country on Wednesday, the 17th.

Back to college 24 hours after. Oh man.

A Pensive Adagio

2010-02-01T19:56:00.010+08:00

Perhaps the hardest part about having divorced parents is that the one who stays separately doesn't know the minute details of your life. The details that distinguish one day from the next, that prevents the week from being just another block of seven before meeting for the regular Sunday dinner.

I'm being less than general here, but it somehow gets tricky to share this little jarful of anecdotes; often it feels like I store them up hoping for an appropriate moment to laugh about them, or moan about them, but that window of opportunity evades me.

What 'details' do I mean? Oh, little things like how I left my blanket out in the rain yesterday and had to dump it in for washing and sleep with a musty spare throw instead. Or how my first visit to the cobbler went today, because the strap of my sandal broke suddenly as I was walking around college middle of this week.

He doesn't even know I nearly melted in the sun on Saturday and stood for 2.5 hours straight on Sunday evening, both at Showdown 2010 in OU. Or that I played backup singer for the second time in my life at a Youth bbq two days ago. He scoffs at my commitment to dance when I tell him it's causing me to slip academically.

The strange thing is, I don't remember these things when I'm with him. And it sure would be queer to read him updates from a list at dinner.

But ah, such are the vagaries of life.

"It's a Shopping Mecca."

2010-02-01T14:16:00.007+08:00

My heart is beating fast just thinking of it.
Those words triggered a spot of research on the Gold Coast where I'll be spending the whole of my coming CNY hols...

absolutely disrupting my Literature analysis - which I'm sure will never be finished on time; that is, by tomorrow morning.

Die. But oh, to die for...

I promise to keep half my suitcase empty on the flight there. Or at least bring a spare suitcase or some other. *Maniacal shopaholic laughter*

P.s. January updates in progress. Too busy to blog these days.

Mind-messing Business

2010-01-08T21:18:00.007+08:00

There's something I didn't include in the previous post. It was my last dream of 2009...
which was really queer because I'd never experienced anything like it before.

1st January 2010

Last night I dreamt I died. Shot point-blank. It was either Gio or me; I remember being glad to see her alive, and getting used to being dead, just looking at the people around (or slightly below) me... I still felt fear when something bad was about to happen, but no longer in the mortal way.

Without realising it, I left Dreamland. Felt disoriented waking up in my body, that I actually had a body. For just a few moments ago, I'd been an insubstantial soul...

Back from a three-day stay at my father's! The activity never ceases; time and time again people have called me a "busy woman" but at least I'm happy to be kept occupied, instead of rotting away. There is always something to be done, the way I see it. Maybe that's why God has seen to it that I have someplace to take a break at; like my own little holiday villa. Lol.

On Tuesday night we went out for groceries. Thought we were going to the usual smaller Giant, but my father turned into the gigantum one that I've often wanted to visit. You know, just to take a look around. I expressed my secret joy and he gave one of his little snorts and said,

"You don't have to wish, just say."

^ ^ How I love to be his girl.

Set my eyes in QuickScan mode 'cause I knew I couldn't drag two grown men (my uncle was there too) in tow for window shopping. This place was nicer to explore than Tesco! (Talkin' in terms of little stores.)

Well we entered Giant itself soon enough and I walked through aisles and aisles of detergent, cereal, brooms, steel pans... until we reached the confectionary section. Then my brain cried out "FoOOOD!"
Now my kitchen cabinet is decently stocked with biscuits and such.
*!!*
Oops, I left my KitKat ice-cream at my father's. =/

Another delightful buy was... WHITE BREAD. The last loaf of Gardenia, to be exact. Wonder why High5 was still in abundance. Anyway, WHITE BREAD is a rare commodity in my TTDI house. Which explains my jakunity. And c'mon, nobody eats pork floss on wholemeal. I've tried, and it's total sewage.

Wednesday, went to catch a movie with Yann. I think I'm a jinx for movies or something, 'cause we ...missed the starting of The Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassus. Rushed in from the Curve, newly bought calendar in hand. Sweet, beatiful desk calendar I can use year in and year out. Muax. (Ew, first time posting that.)

Heath Ledger's last project was worth the rush and my excitement. I found the movie very thought-provoking, especially since I couldn't figure out all that symbolism in one go. Gotta sit down with it some other time and digest it. Not free for that until 20th Nov 2010. =(

Visuals-wise, I relished the style it was done in. The colours were rich and saturated, but there was also a lot of darkness - shot the way it was, the filth felt real but glamorous. Very absorbing.
Then there were the out-of-this-world imaginations where even sparklier colours were used. The shoe dream was ridiculous, and the stilt-walking segment even more so. Both tickled me.

With so many big names in it, I was somewhat confused with who's-who. But now I know that 4 of those names were playing one character. Johnny Depp was unmistakable, though. He had those distinct cheek hollows showing and reminded one so much of Jack Sparrow. =)

One Phone Call Later...

Now is not the right time to tell me I've been spending too much. Now, when I want to watch Men in Tutus so badly.

Train of logic right now:
I'm returning to college in 5 days' time. There is an avalanche of studying and club matters waiting to be taken care of then. I probably won't set foot in a mall for the next 5 months save for its supermarket. I will, in short, turn into a nerd and bound and gag my shopaholic persona.

Is my expenditure justified now? Men in Tutus... the critically-acclaimed, one-of-a-kind... and my first ballet at a theatre.

='(

How can it not be justified?