To make up for the angry, expletive-ridden one below. Haha.
Friday is Date Day for LoverBoy and I, and we went the normal date route - dinner and window-shopping. Well, we wanted to go watch a play (fuhhhh... cultured, no?), but the only play at KLPAC was Metamorphosis, some Kafka-based play that promised to be deep and thought-inspiring.
So we went to 1 Utama! Are my bourgeois tendencies showing?
Who cares. I had a yummy dinner with my luvver at Paddington's!
Pancakes for dinner? Yes please!
Carbs don't count if you eat them with your luvver. Cuz lurve burns calories.
My Full Monty (teeheehee @ the name!), which has bacon, sausages, mashed potatoes, an egg, a side salad, guacamole AND cheddar pancakes *drool*
LoverBoy wanted to demonstrate his 'artistic' gravy-dribbling skills.
We shall not make comments.
LoverBoy muscularly pointing at his Aussie pancake burger (very yummeh!).
Pointless camwhore picture.
Oh, and 1U has really outdone themselves in the decoration stakes!
I thought Empire's decorations were pretty
and they are, but look at 1U's!
Not so colourful, yes, BUT IT'S A FRICKIN KAMPUNG!
With REAL grass and paddy! And a scarecrow and a paddy-threshing thing!
I was very excited.
"It IS real padi!"
"Baby.. that man's wood is hanging out of his pants, ewww"
"I know, and I've got my eye on him."
BTW, I just realised Adam is very colour-coordinated. Unlike moi.
Look! They're so kampung-y and awesome! I can practically hear the kompang and taste the kuih, mmm.
Or pancakes and photos?
At least I'm honest about my membership status (very much active) in the bourgeoisie =D
'Sells' fiancee? 'SELLS'? WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU TO SELL SOMEBODY? IS SHE YOUR POSSESSION? EH, HARLOW! EVEN IF YOU WERE MARRIED, SHE WOULD STILL NOT BE YOURS TO SELL! You may or may not be aware of this, BOY, but women are not slaves to be bought and sold at your whim and fancy! Would you like it if your fiancee sold YOU to fund her shopping trips? NO, RIGHT? SO WHAT THE FUCK GIVES YOU THE RIGHT TO DO IT?
And what the holy heck is she thinking, getting engaged to a teenager? Can people be any more STUPID?
He's a teenager, which means:
1. he's most likely not very highly educated
2. therefore, most likely not working in some high-paying job
3. they will most likely have their first child within a year (teenage hormones, you see)
4. young, uneducated husband, and even younger, less-educated wife plus baby equals flirting with poverty
Wow. What a catch. Factor in the fact that he gambles so much that he was unable to pay his debt...
Be still, my beating heart.
Of course, this is IF she marries him, which I sincerely hope she doesn't since he sold her virginity to his debtor. That being said, she was about to marry him even with points 1-4 in play. I do not think very highly of her intelligence, to be honest.
But this isn't about how stupid she is. HE DIDN'T EVEN HAVE THE DECENCY TO SAY 'Hey, I sold your virginity to cover my gambling debts. The man is coming tonight. So.. yeah. Be prepared, eh? Go watch some porn. Get a little high.'
No, the snivelling cowardly bastard CONNED her into it. And the cherry on this whole fucking cake is that it happened in his GRANDMOTHER'S house. And as the girl screamed for help, the grandmother was unable to do anything because the door was locked.
This PERSON ( I won't call him a man, because he has no fucking BALLS), destroyed his fiancee's life, AND traumatized his grandmother. And is a useless fucktard with shit for brains.
Am I being too harsh?
I DON'T THINK SO.
He should be castrated.
And spat on.
Before being sentenced to a lifetime of servitude, caring for women who are disabled/ill/elderly in a puny, almost futile attempt to make up for (I want to say 'the terrible wrong he has done' but it isn't strong enough) FUCKING UP a life.
Oh, and if you think I'm done with my tirade, HA. Fat chance. The link actually contains two articles. And the second one is about how a woman tried to commit suicide after constantly enduring beatings from her husband.
Again, HARLOW! WHO THE FUCK GAVE YOU THE RIGHT TO BEAT YOUR WIFE? This is, unfortunately, not as shocking as the first article (unfortunate because it SHOULD be shocking), because this story is, sadly, an oft-repeated one. WHY does abuse continue? Because many women do not have the courage to walk away. It's very common, and I should know.
And as one who knows, let me tell you that NOT HAVING THE COURAGE TO WALK AWAY IS THE WORST THING YOU DO TO YOURSELF. Not only do you continue getting bashed for no reason (and no reason is enough to warrant getting hit by the man who is supposed to love and protect you), but you're actually enabling the abuser, allowing him to think that you'll be there no matter what he does, which is not good for YOU.
If he REALLY loves you, he wouldn't ever raise his hand to you.
Love and possessiveness are two separate things.
Conclusion of rant: A penis doesn't give anybody the right to subjugate a woman. If a man loves and RESPECTS a woman, he would never abuse her. Physical or mental, abuse is abuse and shouldn't ever be tolerated.
Just another scene from my window, of UKM in the peaceful golden rays of the sinking sun.
"Just hold still, while I.... *gobble* oh my, your ticks are simply delicious, Arlene!"
SO CUTE. I haven't ever seen monkeys do that, I'm sorry if my city-girl roots are showing!
The human equivalent.
As I type, some sort of monkey feud is happening outside my (firmly SHUT) window. I can hear all sorts of enraged monkey sounds, and a mild kerfuffle going on, accompanied by thumps on my window (eeek!). If this is some dispute over a mate, I really hope the mating part of the whole process will be carried out away from here; I don't want to listen to ecstatic monkeys getting it on!
Daaaayyyum, monkey, doesn't that HURT?
(Random observation: This is literally 'hot monkey sex' wtf)
Yes, it is 12.19 am at the time of writing, and I have a presentation due at 12 pm tomorrow for my Gender Identities class.
Work progress: almost nil.
Stress level: almost nil.
Sometimes I think I'm too chilled for my own good.
However, I just felt this NEED to blog about this awesome video I just watched (ooops, did I just give away the reason for my non-existent work progress?).
Watch first before reading!
Yeah, a guy who plays the piano with his feet. Okay, so I've seen people paint with their feet; what's the difference about the musically-inclined foot pianist guy?
I really like what he said - I have only two choices in life: either die now, or live a wonderful life.
It's so effing true, and we don't need to lop off any limbs to live that motto! Personally, I'm guilty of the crime of drifting.
Not the car sort.
I sometimes think my life kinda follows the Newton Law (I can't remember which one, I left my Physics behind 5 years ago HOLY CRAP I'M GETTING OLD wtf), the one that goes something along the lines of an object not changing direction until hit by some other object and/or force.
Then I watch inspirational videos and I decide 'OKAY! I will take charge of my life!', which by the way, I am aware also constitutes objects that hit the object of my life in the Newton Law analogy. But at least I'm aware of it! And am making a change for the better! Don't judge meee T___T
Okay. Enough psychobabble, I shall go make minimal headway on my damn presentation, fml.
Go forth and do something effing awesome (burping musically DOES NOT COUNT), dammit. Go make discoveries in a scientific field or write the Great (Insert your country here) Novel. At least then I'd feel less guilty about blogging when I should be doing assignments fml fml fml.
By the way, my Gender Identities notes talks about voyeurism and fetishism. I should be like *pervy grin and manic look in eye* ENTHUSIASM.COM but unfortunately even pervy things lose their luster when they are in the form of frickin lecture notes.
Also, I just read Kenwooi's latest blog post about 'How To Suck at Blogging', and he talks about how it's incredibly boring, etc to write about the traffic on your blog and the searches that hit your page. I kinda terasa, but still! I think it's funny.
The 2nd one says 'hidden cam in girls hostel'! Hahaha wtf pervert.. I wonder what on earth directed that search to this blog! Swear to god, I haven't been spying on girls in my hostel. *shifty eyed*
Recently, the boyfriend's laptop decided to up and die on him in a spectacular fashion - necessitating major surgery by Dell who replaced his entire hard disk (for free, so the torture was merely mental and not wallet-al).
Today, I saw him for the first time in three weeks (curse you, Bangi, for being so damn far away from Subang!), and for some reason I wasn't soppily gazing into his eyes or memorising his nostrils or something.. I was looking at the box in which his new hard disk arrived. And I noticed something funny on top.
No shit, Sherlock.
I had no idea. No, seriously. Most enlightening.
On another note, I miss him already.
I love how we sit in A&W debating whether or not porn is partly responsible for social ills.
I love watching funny vids with him.
I love how he would suddenly snort while laughing at said funny vids.
I love thumping him on the back and telling him to 'STAND STRAIGHT, DAMMIT!'.
I love his 'pan cool' face.
I love that he loves the e-books I email to him.
I love how he's given up on me ever watching the tv shows he's loaded into my external hard disk.
I love pointing out pretty sunsets, and how he'd go 'WAAAAHHHHHHH SO NICE' totally sarcastically but I know he thinks it's pretty too. It's just, you know, hidden under a layer of pan-cool-ness.
I've loved Anne Hathaway since I first watched her in The Princess Diaries, and since then, she has never failed to impress! Totally excited about her latest movie 'Love and Other Drugs', also starring Jake Gyllenhaal, the last time they were on screen together, it was pretty damn depressing so I'm really looking forward to something light-hearted and RAWR!
Maggie (Hathaway) is an alluring free spirit who won't let anyone - or anything - tie her down. But she meets her match in Jamie (Gyllenhaal), whose relentless and nearly infallible charm serve him well with the ladies and in the cutthroat world of pharmaceutical sales. Maggie and Jamie's evolving relationship takes them both by surprise, as they find themselves under the influence of the ultimate drug: love. Based on Jamie Reidy's memoir "Hard Sell: The Evolution of a Viagra Salesman." Written by Twentieth Century Fox
God only knows when it'll play in Malaysia but I hope it's soon because it looks HOLY CRAPBALLS AWESOME. *big shiny eyes*
I've been bed-ridden for the past couple of days, miserably blowing my nose while simultaneously hacking away like a 2-pack-a-day-for-the-last-6-decades ciggie junkie - when I wasn't knocked out in feverish unconsciousness.
I'm a bit better today, though! I think this recovery is due in part to the massive amount of bed rest I had, and also this rather funny article I read.
Okay, it wasn't meant to be funny.. But the whole "guys, girls aren't really materialistic - the 5Cs ACTUALLY mean caring persona, cosmic hotness, confidence, comedy and character!" is really a bit of a joke. Idealistic much? Who did they interview anyway? Teenagers? They claim that it was a pool of women aged 18-35 but I find that almost ludicrous, or maybe it consisted of WAY more 18-year-olds than 30-odd year-olds.
Guys, as a member of the fairer sex I feel that I should tell you that the 5Cs may actually be 8Cs, and girls will choose those 8Cs based on the two sets of 5s combined - the materialistic 5 (car, cash, credit card, etc) and the character 5 as stated above.
I'm sorry if I burst your bubble - but honestly, women who look for potential life partners tend to look for outward signs of the ability to provide for a future family. And those signs do NOT include sleeping on the street/getting an allowance from parents/driving a car that has rust stains or, God forbid, a HOLE in the roof.. the list goes on. Of course, character is important as well - nobody wants to date a wealthy guy who picks his nose in public and kicks puppies on the street, or one who lacks social skills and cannot be brought home to meet the parents.
I'd like to announce right now that I'm no mercenary money-sucker, even though this post pretty much kills the starry-eyed delusion of 'love' that lots of people have. I do not own any LV things, nor Coach, nor whatever amazingly exorbitantly-priced goodies they have on the market. I love wandering around Pavillion, gazing lustfully at shiny things that scream YOU CAN'T AFFORD ME!, but I'd honestly much rather buy them on my own than get a sugar daddy to buy them for me because then where's the satisfaction in that?
My most humble apologies if I've crushed any young, fresh dreams with the weight of my cynicism. I do know of people who love each other, regardless of money et al, but sometimes I sit and wonder how long it'd last after college.
Once we hit a certain age, our priorities change. That's a fact. I used to think love would survive on, well, love. I realised it doesn't. There are many factors in Love, and Love left to fend for itself against the wolves of life can easily turn into Hate. Not good.
P/S: just realised that the general tone of this post is at odds with the title.
This is why I've been MIA for a few days. My uni's convocation ceremonies, which run back to back, two sessions a day, for FOUR DAYS, have kept me pretty busy. No, I'm not convocating; I'm in the choir, and we're the entertainment for the bored graduates waiting their turns to receive the certificate that says 'HEY YOU'RE A GRAD!'.
Proof I'm a choir member.
No, there were no heavy rains and flash floods near the area.
Also, the costume is hideous, so here it is hidden behind the sign - I'm trying to ease you into it so you don't fall over in horror.
So, we the choir sit with the band and other musical people, waiting our turns to have the spotlight on us and show up on screens that show the live recording of the event. I've seen myself on the HUGE screen, and believe me, my face was not made for TV. Sigh.
After each session of mind-numbing boredom (alleviated only with the use of iPods and its ilk, and also by burying one's face into a book), we get to meet up with choir seniors! And it's a choir tradition to lambung our seniors, muahaha.
"Wait, guys, maybe we should talk this over.."
"I'm nuummmbaahh oneeeeee!"
Now for the Assistant Choir Master and Vice-President's turn (we were on a roll, baby!)..
"Whaat? Hahaha NO."
"Unhand me, you brutes!"
You can't see me, but I'm there as well, lambunging Sasa.
This is what we look like when we're NOT laughing manically while tossing people in the air.
As you can see, the male choir member is a breed that is slowly going extinct.
It's okay Sasa, you're still growing! ...Not.
This is an example of a good picture. Centred, and EVERYBODY IS IN THE PICTURE. WITH NO MISSING PARTS.
Keep this is mind as I show you the next one.
Behold David's attempt at photography.
This is David, after being attacked by the angry females who beheld his attempt at photography.
Who smile after exacting revenge (what do they say about hell, fury and women? That's right, men, QUIVER IN FEAR.)
Don't I look like a professional camerawoman??
Meet Michelle, possibly the cutest person to walk upon this earth.
By now, I assume you can tell that this 'celebrate our seniors!' moment has devolved into a mad 'let's take pictures of EVERYTHING!!' scramble. And that's how we ROLL, baby!
In case you think that all we do is take 'camwhoring' to a whole new level, I'll have you know that when a session of Convo is in progress, all we do is study/read/listen to music. I read TWO WHOLE BOOKS. Both sob-fests, and effing AWESOME! 'Handle With Care' by Jodi Picoult, and 'A Thousand Splendid Suns' by Khaled Hosseini. Will gush about them in another post (maybe), but let me tell you, it's a bit disconcerting when you have to perform and smile for the camera minutes after tearing up. It's a mad dash of finding the right song score sheet, straightening the costume, putting my shoes on, wiping tears, checking face in mirror for red eyes and tear-stains, etc.
It was Monday morning, and I rolled out of bed WAY late for my 11 am class (yes, I'm aware that it's a late class, but heck, late class means sleeping later and waking up later, no?). Then I remembered that I wasn't having a class because my Gender Identities lecturer had invited a guest speaker to give a talk about women empowerment, and it would be held significantly further away from my hostel than my usual class was.. Which meant that I would be EVEN LATER, since I had to walk further. FML
Got there just before the talk started, thank god. The speaker was Chong Sheau Ching, the former columnist for The Star: You may remember her, she wrote the 'Stories for My Mother' column every Monday.
Anyway, she wasn't there to talk about her days as a columnist. She told us about how her husband left her, jobless and with a 2 year old, for her friend. She told us about how the depression almost drove her to suicide. She told us how she was alone and ostracised by her family for being 'chucked out' by her husband, and for her decision to not get a 'proper' job because she wanted to care for her child.
Then she talked about her project, e-Homemakers, with which she reaches out to the women in society who are alone in the world, who struggle to make ends meet, and who are considered 'handicapped' or 'a burden'.
But I don't want to just talk about Ms. Chong, fantastic speaker and all-round inspirational woman though she is. You see, she brought a woman with her - Justina - who is one of the organization's success stories. Justina is both bipolar and a SLE patient. She, like Ms Chong, had been ostracised by her family and on top of everything, had almost no money. Ill, unwanted, and broke, she attempted suicide twice (suicide is illegal in Malaysia, by the way) and almost ended up locked up in Tanjung Rambutan.
If my life was anything like that, I would've just lain down, waiting to die.
But Justina came out of it, and is now working with e-Homemaker's Salaam Wanita branch, where they make baskets for sale.
In adherence to the Fair Trade stipulations, everything is non-toxic (even the shellac!). The basket I bought was RM12, which is very reasonable, considering that they have to source for paper of a particular colour in order to make the basket. The women weave art in a practical form, which is amazing given the fact that they are mostly underprivileged, and until e-Homemakers, had no skills that they could market.
You know, there was one part of Justina's speech (yes, she was a speaker too, but only spoke for a few minutes, detailing her background and how e-Homemakers helped her turn her life around which was a bit propaganda-ish to me but it was a real eye-opener nonetheless) that really got to me. She looked me right in the eye, this cheaply dressed, middle-aged woman who had almost nothing in life and said
"Life is good."
She continued, "You are really lucky - you have health, youth, education and a family. Please treasure everything you have, and hug your parents when you see them."
And I couldn't help it - I started tearing up. It was really embarrassing but I really terasa because I always take everything for granted and there are times I've been harsh towards my parents (and I can be pretty darn caustic when I'm really riled up) and there is a woman whose own family members wouldn't accept her disabilities, telling me to love mine.
Thanks Justina for helping me put things in perspective.
The name on everybody's lips now is LOW TAEK JHO, or the snappier version of the same name: Jho Low.
He's the guy who parties with Usher, canoodles with Paris Hilton and splashes the equivalent of a small country's GDP on champagne.
Some people say 'WOW I WANT TO BE HIM!' and some people say 'GILA, SPEND SO MUCH MONEY! THERE ARE SO MANY POOR PEOPLE SUFFERING IN THE WORLD'
I say: Leave the man alone. If he can make gazillions of dollars, he can jolly well spend a million or so here and there. He has (literally) earned that right! And if you can't do the same, don't be bitter. Just rob a bank or something.
Anyway, the poor man has been making the PR rounds, trying to clear his name of the excess and debauchery (I'm waiting for a 'One Night in Paris II') associated with it. Apparently his success is due, in part, to awesome connections and 'being in the right place at the right time', and he tries very hard to downplay the spending thing, claiming it's not his money, or that he and his friends split the (HUGE) bills. But this post isn't about how he made and spends his money.. for that, you can just go to The Star Online and read the myriad of articles devoted to him.
This post is just to say that there are so many other things in this life to have a really strong opinion about - sex education, nuclear weaponry in North Korea and child abuse being a few choice examples - and how one man makes and spends his millions is NOT one of them. Why do I read articles that say some people 'hate his guts'? If all you, like me, know about him is that he's from Penang and is uber rich, what do you know about his guts? And what is with the obsessive need to find out more about him and his life? He's just a rich guy. GEEZ.
Mojitos, the smell of freshly cut grass and sun-dried sheets. New books. Old books. E-books. The sound of far-off thunderstorms. Snuggles, kisses and sappy love songs. Friends. Family. Sloppy burgers and dainty desserts. Good, strong coffee and ice-cold beer. Life =)