Week 3: The Easter that was.

over the weekend, i had some visitors from Newcastle. i can't even begin to describe how happy i was because earlier, i had resigned myself to the sad fate of a lonely Easter. it is times like these that i NEED distractions. and it couldn't have come at a more opportune moment.

i am constantly amazed by how much pleasure i can derive just by doing simple, ordinary things...such as driving around in a car listening to music, hanging out at the beach, having a cup of Easyway, sharing pancakes and wedges with barbecue sauce, drinking beer at Cheers, loafing around Circular Quay at 4 am doing naught else but talking shit with the Opera House and Harbour Bridge for our private viewing. reliving our times spent together during the roadtrip.

so simple. so ordinary. yet so fulfilling.







tomorrow is my first big talk! wish me luck!

Week 3: The man and his bucket.

i got this story from a friend who has put up with a lot of shit from me for the past 5 years. a psychologist by qualification (though not a psychologist by profession, YET lol), i've been having free consultation sessions with her for what seems like forever. anyway, once again tonight she flexed her psychologist muscles and told me this story.

once upon a time there was a man who would go to the river to collect water everyday. he brought the water back to his house using two buckets which he carried across his shoulders on a pole. however, one of the buckets had a tiny little hole from which water would leak out. so everyday he would arrive back home with only one and a half buckets full with a trail of water behind him.

he did this everyday for a long long time until one day the leaky bucket spoke to him.

"eh you, why don't you just throw me away and get a new bucket? you don't need to waste your efforts anymore."

to which the farmer replied,

"why would i want to throw you away? can't you see the trail of flowers on the ground leading from the river to my house?"

so now. should i just give up and walk away because it is seemingly broken?
i can't and i won't.

Week 2: The end of Summer.

since coming back to sydney i've been having really weird dreams every night. it is either that i dream about home or i dream about rats...or both. and as most of you know, the former i love to bits and the latter...well, if Noah had allowed the latter to drown in the Great Flood, i would be a much happier person.

my dreams about home aren't anything extraordinary or has much to shout about. mostly i dream about me waking up in my own bed, brushing my teeth and walking downstairs to see my mom sitting at the breakfast table reading the Star. after the usual pleasantries, i would head off to, maybe, a shopping escapade with Nikki at Midvalley, or a yum cha session with Karen and the OB gang and finally winding off with shisha and abby at d'kampung. just very normal everyday stuff and nothing out of the ordinary would happen (eg. i win a million USD) that would indicate that i am dreaming. THUS i am fooled every night into thinking that, hey, i AM back home! WOOT!

waking up from a dream like this can be, and IS, a bitch. waking up to my handphone's annoying incessant beeping and realising that i'm clinging to dear life on the sides of my bed with a mess of suitcase+papers+random miscellaneous stuff on the floor being the first thing to greet me is truly disheartening. and it sets a very depressing mood for the rest of the day. because. i. feel. conned.

(and i don't like feeling conned. although that is exactly how i've been feeling for the past week but that's another story)

and then, during brief pockets of the night, my mind decides to switch from home-dreams to rat-dreams. and i tell you, it is bloody terrifying indeed. most times i wake up from such dreams with a scream in my throat and cheeks wet from tears. YES I AM SO FUCKING SCARED OF RATS UNTIL I CAN CRY OK EVEN THOUGH IT IS ONLY IN MY DREAMS SO FUCK IT. thank god for the fact that rat-dreams aren't as frequent as home-dreams; i've only had them 3 times so far. but then again, 3 times in 10 nights is a bit too much la.

like last night for instance. i dreamt there was this huge furry fucking ugly and disgusting GREY (wtf there are NO grey rats ok?!?!) rat standing beside me whilst i was trying to enter someone's house. and of course, i freaked out and ran straight into the house and onto a chair. and this person had the NERVE to tell me, "Oh nola, it's a rabbit...SEE *picks up rat and wiggles it in front of my face* it is a rabbit!!" well fuck you it is clearly a rat and not a rabbit and i'm 22 years old already don't you think i can differentiate between a rabbit and a rat, huh!? (at this point, i don't remember who it was that picked it up, but i suspect it was nikki...girl, how could you do this to me?!)

anyway, i started screaming and she just wiggled it a little bit more in front of my face and. then. she. dropped. it. on. to. my. back.

i tell you, all hell broke loose.

i could FEEL the claws scrambling down my back and the rush of fur which is too short to be soft yet long enough to poke you and make you feel uncomfortable...like a #2 cut at the barber shop. and so of course i was screaming and crying and then i suddenly woke up and tears were streaming down my face. and for a moment, i felt so paranoid that i threw away my blanket and just laid there in the dark, trying to listen to scratching noises.

sigh.

it's damn terrible la. either i get depressed or i get terrified. and these dreams are giving me such a headache. maybe i have such an aversion to dreams now that for the past 3 nights when i'm about to fall asleep, this really terrible headache invites itself in and i cannot sleep. fuck man, i'm subconsciously preventing myself from falling asleep. but of course i force myself to sleep la because i know that if i dont sleep i'm gonna be dead-er than the urchins i cut up daily. haih, why la is my life like this?

confirm tonight i'll dream either or and again.

Week 1: I was never like them.

i've survived a week of uni...HOORAH! actually, and let this just be a secret between you and me, there wasn't much surviving to be done. i can pretty much go in how and when i please...except on fridays because as we all know, if it seems to good to be true, then it most probably is. so yes, the only time when i legitimately have to go into university is on friday mornings from 9.30-10.30. every other times are fair game. so come and talk to me on msn and keep my company ok? everything seems a little more mundane these days post-kl excitement.

anyway, that's not all i wanted to say. i'm in my fourth year now in sydney uni and in all honesty, i never imagined i'd stick it out this long. when i was in first year, i had this terrible fear that i'd just pack up and leave before the first semester was over because i wouldn't have been able to cope with the change. i was so sure that i'd up and go running back to kajang, possibly ending up in One Academy doing something like graphics design or journalism. but look at me now! i say, go stubborn-ness!

okok...that's not what i wanted to say either. what i REALLY wanted to say was that the kids, and i mean the freshies, all seem so young! you can easily spot the freshie from a crowd of students. they're the ones exuding fresh exuberance from their faces, all eager and waiting for the next class, the next practical, the next hot guy/girl to sit beside them in tutorial. they're the ones with the backpacks pulled high up on their shoulders and an armful of textbooks that look as though they collectively weigh about 5kgs. they're the ones who talk too fast, laugh too loud and buy too many beers in Manning even though they know that by doing so they're totally gonna fuck up their chem lab which will be coming up in an hours' time.

these people are the freshmen, the noobs and they are completely devoid of the cynicism that lecturers, 8am-starts, assignments and deadlines will bestow upon them in the months to come. and like the sadist that i am, i look at them with glee because i know that in time, they will understand what university truly means.

i can't wait for second semester to roll in. HAHAHA!

love you peeps bye.

1:38 am

i am a person inherently attached to my memories like superglue on fingertips. Live For The Future, but i am ultimately kept alive by the recollections of my past.

i can't help myself.

everything that has ever happened to me seems infinitely better than what i am going through now. it is as though the days that i am living out this very moment are akin to a brand new car:
inevitably depreciating in value as time marches on.

i can't help myself.

when i think back on what was and what could have been and what should have been, i'm just filled with an indescribable...

34 days.

i didn't actually keep to my intended hard-core partying schedule...lap sap? tag? didn't even step foot into the place. however, i did spend a lot of time with family and friends. my all-time favourite place in malaysia is currently d'Kampung.

anyway, i just wanted to put some pictures up because the blog is looking a tad too black and white - what with all the words and nothing else...where are the happy colours?! ok less talk, more photos.

during the chinese new year period...my angpau haul this year was unbelievable. thank god for huge extended families and aunties and uncles and married cousins that i didn't even know existed. the little girl and boy that you'll see in the photos are kids of my eldest cousin on the paternal side. fucking adorable, but also kids from hell. the boy broke abby's third brake-light. yea, go jayden.





had a few outings where no one got too drunk. i'm not talking about me. strangely enough, this time around i was very conservative with my consumption of alcohol as well as going out clubbing. i even turned down an opportunity to venture out into maison on the pretence that it was raining (ok la, it wasn't pretending, IT REALLY WAS RAINING! LIKE SHIT!). how uncharacteristic of me. i have a suspicious feeling that this lack of alcohol consumption is somehow tied to that very VERY disastrous night-out i had with Tammy (coughcough) and it somehow spawned an aversion to alco. i can't even look at a jam doughnut in the eye without a slight gaggy sensation (inside joke: only tammy will get it).






and finally, the very impromptu, last minute and stress-filled trips down south. i had grand plans to visit cambodia, bangkok, langkawi and even penang...but in the end i settled for malacca and (god help me) port dickson. it wasn't so bad though, i actually had a lot of fun even though the others kept saying that it was boring. BOO! it's the company that matters la!








i'm very proud to say though, that throughout the whole 34 days i managed to refrain from eating western cuisine, instead opting for good old malaysian grub. the only times i succumbed to white man's food was when i went to chilli's. in my defence though, i only went for their top-shelf margarita. heh.

bye.

rewind

funnily enough, it feels as though i never left. the only thing that betrays my absence is this empty space at the top shelf of my wardrobe where my suitcase should have been.



time to be patient again.

the fourth time.

it is no secret; my dislike about being in sydney. from the very start of the first year of my degree to now, i would have gladly chosen to remain in kl and stay put if given the chance. of course, though, this feeling ebbs and flows; sometimes i push it to the back of my mind and forget about it, and for awhile, i remain contented...but at other times, this feeling of hate (yes, hate, and i'm not afraid to use it) rushes up my throat and through my whole being that it makes me want to vomit, curl up in bed and go to sleep just so that time would pass more quickly.

with only 4 more days ahead of me before i return to sydney, i've been feeling more and more depressed. every year, the same cycle happens: i ask myself what i'm doing in sydney and why. then, i tell myself that i'm pursuing what i love best...that i'm carving up for myself a future. finally, when i'm satisfied with my answer, i fly back calmed.

yet, this year more so than any other, i find myself wishing and wondering why i didn't just go down a more conventional path. i whine and moan and tell myself that i should've done something like business or accounts or mass comm, that i should've chosen a degree that could've been completed in malaysia (or at least one that would've allowed me to spend a significant amount of time here), that i should never have gone to sydney.

and the magnitude of it scares me a little, because then it would mean that i'm acknowledging the fact that i've made a wrong decision regarding my life...and one that can't be easily remedied. also, it would mean that i'm a hypocrite. i've always been terribly harsh on people who are critics of marine science, yet here i am lamenting about how i shouldn't have done it.

very confusing. i love my degree. but i love my family, friends and home more.

a month is just not enough.