Thursday, December 28, 2006

Zoom in, zoom out

(edited)

My parents bought me a new digital camera for Christmas. Being the techno-not-savvy person that I am, I tried to upload my pictures into Facebook but was rejected several times. Not one to take rejection lying down, I fiddled with the USB thingy (I've only just upgraded the word USB to everyday vocabulary less than a month ago - I personally like discs and old fashion A-drives), clicked and reclicked edit photos, plugged and unplugged the cable from my camera, scrolled up and down the menu bar looking for something that would give me a hint... but nothing. Frustrated, I rang Eing, who then asked, "Have you installed the software yet?"

There's software?

So I dug out the CD from a pile of what I considered to be 'junk' in the box the shop people gave me and followed the instructions. It all seemed to flow quite well until I got kind of stuck at the legal jargon. As an undergraduate I would have skimmed them over and assuming I did better than everyone else who probably ignored it, would click 'next' or 'agree' without a moment's hesitation. Now, I actually read it and make mental notes of what I'm allowed and not allowed to do! How frustrating when the rest of the world doesn't feel bound by it! the strange thing is that if I had studied something else, let's say Philosophy or English, I would not have felt it as necessary to comply with the law as I do. The other day, I was in a hurry to go out. I left my apartment, took the lift all the way down, walked for a bit, realised I didn't have my ID with me (in Malaysia it's compulsory to carry ID) and debated for a second before deciding getting caught wasn't worth it especially if I were going to be a practising lawyer in Malaysia. I wouldn't want a black mark for something petty like that. So retraced my steps all the way back. Was SO annoyed but infinitely relieved that I was now without blame. The law certainly makes one a prisoner and even more so when one knows the law. If one claims ignorance, one is still under the law so breaking the law will still amount to punishment. However, the 'trick' is when the sentence is passed. Without mens reas (intention), the lesser punishment can be argued for and is usually given. Exceptions would include strict liability offences which mean the tariff is set for the punishment and it doesn't matter whether you intended to break the law or not.

I think when people think of God as a judge, if they do ever think of Him as a judge, they would more often than not see their offence against Him as one of Intention rather than one of Strict Liability.

"I didn't mean to hurt so-and-so with that rumour"
"I took that piece of bread because I was hungry and that person had more than enough to share. In fact, why not punish him for not sharing with the needy and selfishly keeping everything to himself??"
"It wasn't my fault. He started it."
"It was only a little, white lie"
"That man drove a lorry over my son on purpose. He deserved to die!"
"Everyone else does it too"
"It was only something I thought about. I wasn't going to do anything about it."

We all come to God with our excuses, treating Him as everything and everyone... except God. We whine the way a child tries to dissuade punishment from a parent. We stare sullenly like the time we got caught by school authorities. We pull out the same legalistic excuses we used when approached by the clergy. We bat the blame back and forth like the time owning up risked confrontation. We knit and sew rags of self-justification for ourselves to hide the knowledge that we are in the wrong afterall. We point in the other direction to the traffic cop. We want to stand out and be individuals yet when it comes to taking responsibility we shy away and try to remain unseen from an All-knowing, All-seeing God.

Like most of my blog entries, this started out as a frivolous dig at myself and at life's curveballs. I never thought that studying Law would actually impact me so much. I guess I took in more in class than I thought I did :) In studying Law however, I am pointed towards a Law on a grander, infinite, complete scale; a Law that no man can ever hope to attain. A Law that shows us up for who we are; in the light of such a Law, our ambitions become hubris, our loves becomes hate, our passion becomes destruction, our hope to fulfill the Law becomes a joke. Such is the situation of all man without Jesus. Such is the emptiness and hollowness of life without the One who created life and sustains it. The Law God gave Moses wasn't bad law of blessings and curses that Jesus came down to earth to destroy or overturn. It was God's perfect standard which, man on his own could never fulfill and so could never hope to reconcile himself to God. Jesus didn't come down to earth to destroy the contents of the Law, He came to fulfil the purpose of the Law. The Law revealed man's sinfulness because man could never keep God's perfect commandments. Man could never keep God's commandments because man's heart was calloused and naturally disobedient. When Jesus bridged that gap through His death on the cross, it wasn't that all of a sudden we didn't need to abide by the Law anymore and could go round stealing and harming people as long as we believed in Jesus' atonement for our sins. His death did not destroy the Law in that sense. Rather, He has done for us, what we could not do on our own; Jesus Christ brought us into a relationship with God. As a result, we can have an eternal relationship with God and can obey the Law as free men. When we do fail to obey the Law, our access to God is still wide open because access to God no longer lies in fulfilling the whole Law on our own but through Jesus, who has bridged the gap once for all forever. As a result, we are no longer bound by the Law but we are bound by whether or not we trust in Jesus as our Saviour, Redeemer, Christ and Lord. How wonderful it is not to be burdened by the yoke of law. I was burdened over something as small as not bringing my IC/ ID out. How much more would my burden be if I knew I had the whole of God's perfect law to follow every moment in order to have a relationship with Him. The pharisees must have been an awfully burdened lot to be carrying such a load on their shoulders! Their biggest mistake was not recognising the person who came to take their burden. Do not Jesus' words make so much sense now when He said in Matthew 11: 29-30:

Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.

Of course! If Jesus were the fulfillment of the covenant (and He is), His burden would be light because He already had and has an eternally perfect relationship with God the Father and so can bring us into a relationship with God.

My thoughts tend to trail... and my blogs are usually a result of things I have been chewing over or mulling, wallowing, burrowing in. I have to say it has become increasingly ploughed and less 'fun' to read but hopefully when I read back my blogs, I can look upon my present with hindsight and learn from the past.

Saturday, December 23, 2006

Under our noses

Sarah and I were up chatting for 4 hours into Saturday morning, after which I drove home in a half daze, half adrenaline fuelled crze (hey it rhymes!). We were talking about B-O-Y-S becoming M-E-N. Despite the lack of one letter in the final sequence, we more or less deduced that they didn't lack anything innately due to a mere technicality in spelling. The male-ridden thought process in my head had been churning and analysing since the early hours of the evening when one of my brother's friends, asked me if I had a boyfriend. Not that I mind saying, "No" but the boy's 10. When I was 10, I was more concerned about elephants being poached in the world rather than if my friend's sister/ brother was next in line to throw a few red packets (money in red wallets of paper that only married people give out) to feed my piggy bank. Part of me felt the bairn insolent for addressing me with such a question but then I sighed as I realised kids 'now-a-days' grow up SO much faster than we did in my time. They are generally taller, bigger (scarier) and use I-pods and camera phones the way I used to work a giant pencil sharpener. It's not that I mind the question but if I knew the answer to the bigger question of when, where, who and how, I probably wouldn't mind as much. If I knew for certain that the only knot I would be tying was for mountain climbing, I would admit it in a shot with impish glee, especially to well-meaning people would might otherwise think that yet another life has gone to waste down the celibacy chute. I guess I don't really want questions asked that have answers I don't yet have. It's the being in limbo (almost), the will I or won't I that agitates me because I'm the kind of person who likes to know where she's going, what time she'll get there and whether they serve hash browns all day. Hopefully I'll stumble through this era relatively unscathed and when I reach 30, fingers crossed, I'll be elderly enough to stop being asked questions to which I have no answers, namely girl-boy-relationship related ones.

I know I want to do mission work. I know that if I had to choose between getting married with 2.5 kids or going on a 15-year mission trip to Timbuktu with no running water, I would choose the latter. I'm not against getting married. If Mr Husband was also called to Timbuktu and due to poor contraception avoidance tactics, we end up having 9 children, all within a year of each other, that would be comical and my call would then be to my husband and children with other ministries beside, but if I had to choose either or, I know that world mission would always come first. I know that if that decision comes, it will not be an easy one to make. Afterall, spending a certain amount of exclusive time with the opposite sex naturally sets up emotional roots which will have to be uprooted should a relationship turn out to be, not necessarily unbiblical, but insufficient; insufficient in giving God the glory He rightly deserves, above earthly intuition, above earthly desires, above earthly loves. A lot of people say and believe that security is important and that for me as a woman, my security should lie in either wealth or a husband who can provide. I defy those opinions with the same fiery possessiveness I have over my relationship with Christ; my identity is in Him and Him alone. Money and safety are pitiable idols if my feet are not firmly planted and watered in God's Word. I understand concerns about needing money in this world; as a missionary the pension fund is somewhat limited and as for safety, well, as hazardous as the world is to walk through, how much more safe can I be in the hands of the God of the heavens, earth and seas, everything in them, under them, over them, past, present and future, allowing them to live and sustaining them to perform even the simplest of tasks such as producing the most miniscule amount of energy (mytochondria) or contracting and expanding by way of moving (paramecium and others)? Do I feel threatened by this world? Many times. Do I feel mauled by images from television and movies causing havoc with my mind? Yes, I do. Do I feel like I can barely sustain myself physically or materially, let alone provide for a family? Yes. But at the end of all that doom and gloom, my Saviour awaits and His arms are open and I am straining to finish this race to be with Him. I can't wait to cross the line and jump into eternity, flying free. It doesn't automatically solve the problems now but it does give me something to purposefully aim for. It's hardly idealistic; reality hits hard where it hurts the most, Christian or not, but the true reality of being hidden in Christ surpasses all my worries and even though they niggle at me and I still try get to college on time and pay my rent and plan my future, I do so with the assurance that it will not be futile. It will not be in vain.

What I said before about being in limbo... I am in the position to make decisions that will impact the rest of my life. I could, if the opportunity arose, say yes and possibly be on my way to an automatic Vios and maybe in time a metallic forest green Mercedes SLK-230 with dark grey upholstery and power steering. Or I could say no and have a 4x4 BMW Z series :p But probably, until such a time arises, I don't have to worry about my answer and focus more on now.

Thursday, December 21, 2006

Donkey days

My brother's birthday is tomorrow. I have to find a picture of a donkey big enough for him and his friends to pin tails on. I've just baked enough brownies to feed an army and it doesn't stop there. He's made plans and gave me instructions before I had even set foot in the car from the airport. I also need to make pizzas (with specifications), a volcano-shaped, chocolate birthday cake, chicken nuggets, fry homemade crisps, make manggo and lychee jelly in moulds, spaghetti bolognese, sausages and pineapple cocktail sticks... he even wanted fried chicken and chips on top of it but really, how much food can 10 kids eat??? I also have to organise games including pass the parcel, pinning the tail on Donkey, egg and spoon race etc etc.

Tonight I'm off to a high school reunion at some seafood restaurant or something.

Monday, December 18, 2006

Supersis me!

My very smart, very hardworking sis just won a money-licious prize for being best overall student in her uni in Aussie. She is the same person who lines the family cabinet with maths trophies, science medals and straight As. She can play The Phantom of The Opera and if that's not great enough, she plays it on the violin. She's taller, slimmer, more athletic (cross country runner - wooo...) and now lives in a house with a swimming pool :P She knows how to operate an Apple Mac (to me that's huge!!!) and will probably invent her own calculator to do maths in the future or discover a new way of liver surgery. She was the one who told me, when we were kids, that when she made it big, she would buy me a yatch. I hope she remembers cos I think she's heading that way.

In all of it, it's very easy to feel slightly unimportant. Afterall, she's probably gonna be the one who sends my bro to uni, tops up my parents pension fund and drives the biggest car in the neighbourhood, not to mention owning that house with a swimming pool. Maybe I can start hinting that I want a Bull Mastiff that'll cost about RM2,000 for a vaccinated, male puppy. It's cool that she's doing so well for herself, at least it's one less person to worry about in the world and I do worry. In spite of us having been through battles known to the rest of the world as sibling rivalry (and have the scars to show), she is still my sister and although to her face I wouldn't say so, if someone did say something bad about her, the hairs on my neck would start bristling and I would turn into werewolf/ vampire, ready to rip the jugular vein, tearing tissue and bone... kay, too much gore, but you get the picture.

At this point in time, I am doing a course I don't know I'll complete, trying to win people I don't know will finish the race and wondering how to keep my slowly depleting ka-ching afloat. Maybe I was born to be an eccentric hippie, busking on the street (if only my saxophone didn't break down last night). Afterall, all famous people had one of those for a relative somewhere in their geneology, right? Am I proud of my sis? Course I am. She's worked hard and deserves her reward. I can't complain about my life either. May not be heading to a 25-foot yatch anyday soon but I have been much blessed, more than I can ever count (unlike the medals I collected in school), for things I cannot demand and do not deserve. In fact, I deserve the complete opposite! But God is gracious, slow to anger and abounding in love and I cling to that love and to the justice that follows it, because it is through His grace I am saved.

Wednesday, December 13, 2006

Casino not royal

Warning - spoiler ahead!

Besides the white horse galloping down a stretch of sandy beach, the very slick baddie at the start who could move almost as fast as Jackie Chan and Craig's ice blues, I found Casino Royale hardly as gripping as previous, nail biting, what ifs, James Bond films. The car was a Ford (what's going on there???) and although I silently went "Noooooo..." when it spun on its own axis, Bond driving a Ford is like Prince Charming riding a Shire (Maybe that's a tad unfair as Ford has undergone a huge makeover and actually looks quite sleek now but it's the principle behind the car). In my case however, any horse will do. He could be James Bond, Blunt or Bun... hehehe. I made a mental note to get my man's suit tailored if he ever did have to look like he was betting 10 million squid (there was something about the way the lapels smoothed into the tux that made me smile - the tux itself looked like chiffon should float on it) and Craig was certainly put in more believable circumstances than the previous 5 Bonds - I could only wince and wonder what guys thought of the literally, ball-breaking scenes. Thankfully, in all his cheesy-beachy shots, Craig was nowhere nearly as hairy as Pierce Brosnan or smarmy as Roger Moore. I think Pierce is fantabulous but personally, too much hair dude. I had to get used to the whole blonde Bond idea but Craig's intensity as far as a person can be intense in a Bond film can go, which emerged at various points, sidelined the importance of the colour of his hair. The muscles above my left eyebrow worked overtime throughout the film whenever James Bond fell totally out of character such as handing in a resignation letter to spend his days with a seemingly perfect woman on a yatch and displaying actual fondness and adoration for the object or should I say subject, of his gaze, instead of simply being the womaniser we all know him for. The end tied things up nicely with reagrds to why James Bond goes on being the person we know him to be although we aren't quite allowed to see what happens to Mr White. As a character study, Casino Royale, has provided many 'insights' to Mr Bond but as a Bond movie, it did not quite impress an impressive impression on me. Except maybe, that now I know there are stirrups I can use to ride horses on the beach without needing footwear and that Daniel Craig's eyes currently head the list should I ever be asked the question which actor's eyes do you like the most?

Application time. Unfortunately, if a James Bond type did feature in my social circle (and I mean a true blue James Bond type, not guys with wishful thinking), I would probably go ga-ga over him, whilst at the same time battling an internal monologue of pros and cons. As much as I claim to be pessimistic, I suppose there's always the chick-flick hope of bad boy come good. But maybe the best thing I can do is walk away.

Tuesday, December 05, 2006

Rubbish

(edited)
How does one explain a day that seemed to go so well until an email or letter or comment serves to remind that this world is evil, that relationships are only ever imperfect, that passion outside that for Christ is only ever destructible? Sometimes I really hate this world. I hate everything humanity stands for. I hate the hubristic nature of fools who have made themselves gods of their own lives which the more they deem wonderful, the more worthless it resonates throughout eternity. The fruitlessness, hopelessness, helplessness and futile ambition goes from pathetic and pitiable to evil, arrogant, self-absorbed and rebellious when not recognised in onesself. No little wonder that God is angry. No wonder He limited man's years, denied the ultimate fulfilment of man's ambition and man himself. With one word He wiped out the entire world except those He chose to save. Living creatures He stilled, even water and rocks, without breath in them, He destroyed. How can man know this and still think to himself, "I chose to accept Christ into my life and therefore God 'chose' me. God didn't really have any say in saving me. I chose Him therefore..." What possesses us to even consider that we can save ourselves? Human hubris.

Bla. I have no idea how God counters His wrath with His incredulous compassion and thus, passion to save us. I'd bet I'm not even close to being 0.00000001 percent as mad as He is about the state of this world.

Yet, there's so much to enjoy. Our heritage I suppose. Afterall, God did make the earth and He made it good. Problems begin when we take the earth for granted and say, "No thanks" to its maker. Brats. Childish, errant, ASBO-ridden children who would rather cower snarling than surrender and walk upright. That's us without Jesus. That's all of us.

Thursday, November 30, 2006

Half empty, half full

Everytime I think I'm getting lost in the hustle of things and need refocussing, I read Purpose Driven Life by Rick Warren. I think it's because from all my spoon-feeding years of Malaysian education, it's a hard habbit to kick getting everything sent straight to my gut instead of going through digestion. I'm not saying that Purpose Driven Life is not a good read. On the contrary, it's concise, convenient (it's broken up into different areas of life) and most importantly, correct in sound teaching. I get lost a lot and need someone or something to point my toes back in the right direction. It's not just men who don't ask for directions and was it women who couldn't read maps? Sometimes in my eagerness I step right off the path and into the thicket and wonder why people aren't following. Or in my myopic state, I walk into a lion's path without realising the danger I'm in. Too often I worry that I'm overdoing things. Too often I worry that perhaps the world, or even other Christians are right when they say I'm too extreme in character, in views, in life. I worry more about being overzealous than I do being a spectator. I mean, look at the Pharisees. They were an overzealous lot and no one wants to be like them. They had good intentions but bad motives. Everytime I go out for a meal with people, pray for family and friends, talk to guys, call a friend, I question my motives. I don't want to live a half life, you see. Even when I'm tired, let me be tired so that when something happens during my tired state, God is given all the glory. Heck, this isn't some super spiritual ideology. There's no shame in being tired and there's no shame admitting that to God. In fact it's when we don't admit we're tired, needy, hungry or lost when that displeases God. When we see ourselves as suffcient, as good enough, as complete, without God, when we really have got no idea at all. You know what? It's when I'm overworked, full to the brim with activities, meeting people and raring to go when I am most satisfied in God. I believe God would be less glorified in me if I were to try be someone else. I guess I've always thought I had rough edges and I've always thought the rough edges had to go before I was on the right track to becoming Christ like. But I think if I were a shape, I don't think God made me a circle hence, I have edges and trying to rub those edges out would not only hurt myself, it would be denying who God made me to be. Some scatter seed, not stopping for it to take root. Others come along and nurture the seed. Still others come and help the seed mature, becoming plants, which then produce more seed to be scattered. I think I need to stop feeling guilty that I don't want to stay put. That as much as I want spiritual fruit to grow and religious nuts to dry, I don't think I'm built to stay. Although, if God were to change my heart and purpose and one day I find that I actually want to stay then I would feel most satisfied in Him when I stay. But for now, my heart is restless. I don't know how long I will be in KL for. I didn't know how long I would be in London for. 5 years went by very quickly. Christmas is coming up. My course finishes in July. Every opportunity is an opportunity to share the gospel. I don't know when my time will come to an end in KL but it would only have been half a life if I didn't be true to the person I am.

Saturday, November 25, 2006

Scary blogging

I feel like a spy. I have at least another week to wait before Internet connection is up and running at my place so am in an Internet cafe once again. Instead of going to my usual place in Bangsar, I decided to browse round Brickfields since I needed somewhere more 'central' than Megamall. Whilst strategically fairly central, the need to use a bus to get there makes it a slightly less attractive prospective, especially for someone who does not have much time on her hands. this place in Brickfields is scary but I'm determined to get my money's worth - consider it a Chinese thing. People are gaming and making scary boom-boom machine gun noises, the place smells like somewhere the police might want to reasonably look into and the dodgy lighting makes me feel like I'm a Soviet spy although I've neither ever met a soviet spy nor been to the Soviet Union. I studied Soviet Law though. Does that count? Anyway, being the boring Saturday afternoon that it is, a bit of imagination was thrown in to make my life not so mundane.

I was just on MSN but no one else was on. Strange. And then I remembered the time difference between here and England; it's 9am there. My MSN pals are probably asleep after being online til 4 in the morning. We are the nocturnals that wander the corridors of cyberspace. I've got a 'party/dinner' thing tonight. Actually locals call it pot-bless/luck but SMACC calls it SMACC team. I still don't know what to bring... my diet the last 4 days have comprised coke and mushrooms. How dodgy does that sound??!!!?? But they're NOT magic mushrooms and cocain rather coka-cola with extra sugar (is that possible?) and straw mushrooms stir fried with more freind onions. I think my insides could look like a war zone at the rate I'm going. Speaking of coke, I cut my hand trying to open a 1.5 litre coke bottle. The cap wouldn't open, I tried calling physics whiz Chris to see if he could help but his phone was turned off, so I dived into the task armed with a pair of scissors and two knives. I managed to force the bottle open but at cost to my hand. the knife slipped and not so neatly put a gash between my thumb and fore finger. Any lower and I really might have needed stitches as the membrane between the two would have been sliced. Reminds me of the time I cut myself against a jagged tin I had just opened. Sliced my right forefinger to the bone and could see the cavity between skin and muscle/ tissue/ bone. I remember thinking it was pretty cool at the time but I think it was because I had gone into shock.

Monday, November 20, 2006

Upsy-daisy

Narrator's voice: This is a story of three little boys. Their names were Tim-tims, Chrissy and Marky. They lived at the bottom of a well.

"What did they live on?"

They lived on treacle.

"But why did they live at the bottom of the well?"

(ignoring annoying voice that is asking too many questions the narrator can't answer) And so, these three little boys were trying to draw...

"What were they trying to draw?"

Treacle.

"Where did they draw the treacle from?"

Insert Mad Hatter: You can draw water from a water well, so why can't you draw treacle from a treacle well?

Yes, my name may not be Alice but often times, I believe I live in her world. I would even take advice advice from a caterpillar if I ever stopped to listen to one...

So, life is nicely turning the right way up again. I am managing to get more sleep (hurrah!!!), have bought more Christmas cards and am eating well (always a good sign). I'll be flying home to see my folks for a 9-day break over Christmas hols and that's something to look forward too. Even more so, my (even more brief) stay in London; I'm trying to stretch it to accomodate 2 weekends. In the midst of pondering the wonders of fried rice, oyster pancakes and crispy noodles (can you tell it's almost dinner time?) I think life is good. There are days when my heart feels like it has shattered into a million pieces, my legs are cramped and my head feels like a mallet is pounding it but hey, when daybreak comes, after a good night's sleep, I find my worries are secure in Christ, I can still walk and am still blessed with coherent thought. There are always two roads diverged in a yellow wood (or so says Robert Frost) and we can either choose to be more and more cynical and upset at the world, which strangely enough, makes us more and more hubristic because then the world revolves around us or we can take the road less travelled on and see where that takes us.

Tuesday, November 14, 2006

New Laptop!!!!!! Inter alia...

Found on Google

This will be the last time (hopefully) that I'll have to ever, ever, cross a city with a train, bus and on foot for Internet access. I have (kind of) decided which laptop/ notebook (whatever) I want to buy and it should become my property by the end of the week! Yipee! Only, I have to wait til my landlady installs the actual internet connection which is -doh- important too but as long as I have my laptop, IO can gaze lovingly at it and think of all the things it can do for me. Muahahahahahaha. My new laptop even has a camera so peeps on MSN can see me brushing me teeth and see the food I eat here. How cool is that?????? I have just sent off an email full of woe and melancholy so this blog is going to relieve the caffeine induced side of me. I nearly threw my pillow out of the window a few nights ago because someone was singing using a megaphone of sorts at 5 am!!!!! But I remembered that it was against the rules to throw things out of the window. The problem studying law is all you remember are rules and then, fun kind of flies away :( My window is sooo big though that I can easily walk through it from my bed. I actually shut it the first few nights because now that I know that sleep walking with me is a possibility, I didn't want to end my life on the concrete, skull crushed and finding out I have no brain.

In fact, life here has become quite dull so I have taken to spicing up my neurocells, happy cells and whatever other cells that need replenishing and plumping up after losing quality, quantity, elasticity and general perkiness. Went browsing round bookstores and am alarmed that books such as 301 More Things to do to have Fun at Work appeals to me. This must certainly mean that my life has exited the main motorway and gone down 'Boring' street. Other books I came across (which caught my attention) included The Diary of a Not 'It' Girl. Yup, that's me. But I'm sure my diary is much more interesting although I didn't stop to read hers. Enough to catch my eye, not enough to catch my hand. Aha. Speaking of diaries, I had one ages ago. Oh dear. I've just realised that now, when I say ages ago, I can honestly mean ages and not use the word as an exaggeration.

What this life is full of care, we have no time to stand and stare?

Anyway, I hid my diary on top of the dog's kennel. There, a bit of Debbie trivia for you. It didn't last very long; I had too much to write and hiding my book, fishing it out, then rehiding it, took up too much time. I had living to do. The third book I came across was Pregnancy for Dummies. Other than the question, "How?" and by that I don't mean technically, I do wonder, do people really need help books on how to be pregnant? I always assumed one just was or was not. Maybe, there's another part to growing up I haven't understood yet. Fourth book was by far my favourite; in series There's Treasure Everywhere of Calvin and Hobbes, Calvin says, "I don't think you should have to do something unless you're enthusiatic about it." Ditto.


Other things that have been crammed into an area known as the brain, in which although Einstein used only 3 per cent, my pastor has apparently used 85 per cent (of the depleted brain, I quote), included, for some time now, the hubristic nature of human beings. We pulvorise forests and build concrete jungles in their place. We abort life flippantly yet demand rights to making one. We encourage our friends to step on others to get what they want yet when people step on us to get what they want, we climb onto moral high ground and shake the finger. According to the book of Romans, we're divided into roughly 3 categories; the hedonist, the judgementalist, the legalist. All of then have fallen away, all of them do not seek God, all of them are evil, even the best of them. The hedonist doesn't even acknowledge God. He builds his rose-bush walled palace and lolls around feasting, drinking and indulging himself in his every whim and fancy. The judgmentalist stands and points. Grace comes looking for him and calls him home but he shrugs it off, and yells and points at the hedonist, demanding punishment for all the baaad things the hedonist has committed. He even has a list so that he can prove he was in thr ight all the long. Instead of choosing grace, he follows self-righteousness. Then there's the legalist. He has fallen down a huge ravine and is trying to build his way home. Year after year after year he toils and he has finally managed to build enough rubble to take 5 steps. Grace offers to take him home and he glares at grace because grace is slowing down his work. Grace looks at the rubble the legalist has proudly collected. This will get me home, he crows. Grace looks at the 5 step worth of rubble and notices that the legalist has 5 million to go. But the legalist is already at work, piling up rubble... (stuff I've learnt from book I am reading by Max Lucado, entitled In the Grip of Grace. Will write more when headache is gone).

Friday, November 10, 2006

Tommy and me

Running out of time

I sooooooo need a computer. Wait. No. I need a computer with internet connection. I need a computer with broadband internet connection!!!!!! It's so depressing sitting in the only internet cafe I know of that exists in this place called KL. I need to take a tube and a bus that almost never comes before I get to my destination and then muscle my way through lots of people who also want to use the internet. At this point, I don't care. AAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yes. Headache is overuling any smidget of sanity I might have regrown during my sleep, only for it to be smashed again when the junk of a bus doesn't arrive. Actually, not the bus driver's fault. More the bus owner. They're certainly not out to win our hearts, souls or affection. More like our money. Can you believe that they don't supply change so whether I have RM5 or RM1, I have to put the whole lot into the **** machine and how much is the fare? RM0.90!!!!! Argh. Like snarling at the bus driver will do me any good. I could feel my arteries bulging through the roof. As I chose to sit by the window, passers-by should hardly be surprised if the window pane suddenly went red with my blood gushing out from an already compressed head. Bla bla bla. I was going to come in and write such a nice blog about how I found this bookshop (actually Tim took me) where they actually sold Piper and Packer and Lewis and Grudem. I nearly cried with happiness and nearly hyperventilated with joy but remembered that I was in Malaysia where people would more readily dump me in a psycho ward than applaud my individuality.

I will get a computer. I will get a computer. *Sniffle* I want Tommy back. I want to see his furry face and heavy jowls and bury my face in his smelly coat even though it gave me hives for week. I miss his doggy breath and his drippy nose and I don't care how disgusting that sounds. Oh Tommy boy, when will I see you again?

Monday, November 06, 2006

Going home... again

Having spent almost 2 weeks in London, climaxing at Carly's wedding yesterday, I feel ready to go home to KL. Am actually missing the dudes in KL, the late night dinners and Chinese soaps, despite wallowing gloriously in sarcasm galore here and almost perfect weather (10 to 16 degrees is personally ideal). Did swing dancing with Bubba and 80s-style clubbing, which was hilarious. L and I tried to get CD and IF to dance but as they were stubbornly upholding their wallflower-power, we went and danced next to them at the risk of embarrassing ourselves. The wedding also gave me the chance to be 'reunited' with a few people I had not met for ages namely Bubba and Christy. Christy and I went paintballing more than a year ago for Daniel's birthday and he's the only person, thanks to a camera phone, who has proof that I hugged a Rottweiler (Tommy) which was almost as big as I was; my head could have fitted into his jowls quite easily. Will try post the pic up someday when I find the link but that day, although past, was one of the most fun in my life.

I've LAG to thank for letting me stay with them the entire trip; huge blessing and and advance thank you to LNA for when I come to stay in January.

Friday, November 03, 2006

Possessive

You Should Drive a Corvette

You don't just like to drive on the road, you like to own it. You live to intimidate other drivers with your car's muscle power!

Thursday, November 02, 2006

Snow dreams

I wish I were a polar bear. They seriously have everything going for them; fur, claws, teeth... They only wear white and even when that gets stained, they have discovered some magic dust far above the prestige Vanish offers to get rid of those stains, leaving their coats brilliantly white. The real McCoy. They never need mascara or eye liner because their windows to the world are as deep as the blackest night. They don't need gloss or lippy because they have their steak rare, actually not even rare, rather raw, all the time. Their lips are black yet no one accuses them of being gothlike or antisocial. Their bad manners are applauded and sent round the world, their right to annoyance and violence protected and their glutoney sated. They swim, fish, surf on snow and slide down ice. They sleep for half their lifetime and are sufficiently updated with omega 3. We've not heard anyone complain of their fishy breath because, if they did, they probably wouldn't live to tell the tale. They lumber and no one says, "Walk upright," they growl and no one says, "Behave." They swipe with their paws, irritated at some non existant housefly and no one says, "Patience." They see killer whales and leopard seals and penguins. It would be grand to live the life of a polar bear and be a real snow queen.

Tuesday, October 31, 2006

Hellish love

In The Four Loves, C S Lewis said that the only place where one could escape the pertubations of love was Hell. Unfortunately it's true. Streams of consciousness have been flowing rather rapidly the last week or so and the influx of words on the screen is just one way of damage control to the banks of the river running through my brain. For if the banks of my mind overflow, I might find myself having to cope with disillusionment or worse, delusion. Internal monologues are synonym to packing and repacking labelled ideas and trains of thought and have proven the most efficient programme to ensure the docking of new ideas do not interfere with expired products to be thrown away. It keeps me sane when the world refuses me access to basic rights such as spell checks, blocking pop-ups and deleting previous meticulously planned blog entries. Why do we stand by and accept these chains, indoctrinating us to believe that we do not deserve instant spell checks in whatever language we wanted, English or American.

On a cheerier note, I met up with HS today to talk about the death penalty that is still available to some legal systems in this world. I wanted to meet up with M as well to talk about euthanasia but it looks like our time tables clash and we'll have to make a date in January.

Friday, October 27, 2006

Hateful

Had a nasty nightmare about snakes last night. Woke up in the middle of the night clutching at the sheets and threw my pillow (Elsa's pillow actually) across the room, before nearly falling off the bed, shaking. At times like that, all I can do is laugh (or snicker drily) at myself because the alternative of crying for days has never and will never cut it. Been there, done that. I hate that I dislike reading certain parts of the Bible because they remind me that there are snakes in this world. I hate that I can't visit the zoo, hike, trek or camp in peace. I hate that it taints all that I enjoy, even travelling and meeting new people. Fear doesn't just paralyse limb, heart and mind, it aims to kill. It tries to rob joy and erodes at any shred of self-worth left and leaves me wondering whether I wouldn't really be better off dead. If everyone had a God-permitting thorn, my phobia of snakes would certainly be up there with the big S-I-N. One would think that if I believed God gave or allowed me to have this fear, that I would hate God too. Hate that I am sometimes questioned whether I have been left to fear without hope of my fear ever abating. However as much as I hate my fear, I despise my sin even more and if my fear causes me to remain humble and wholly dependent on God as my provider, protector, guide, saviour, redeemer and maker, then, even as I collapse in fear, even as I have begged God time and time again to take it away, I am grateful that it keeps me in check, focused on my God and in doing so, I await the New Creation with more longing, yearning for the day when I may savour it and where there will be no more tears or fear.

Wednesday, October 25, 2006

True-blue banana

How Malaysian are you? - The Challenge
Your score : 0 out of 45
Call yourself a Malaysian? Sure or not? You, you, you Mat Salleh!!! Bet you speak with an accent too.

Brain stew

Do you think cats get back ache? I have been wondering whether I need to go and see a chiropractor. Sometimes my lower back feels like it could crumble any day, leaving me about a foot shorter than I already am. At that rate, I could possibly die shorter than I was born. Hahaha. On one hand, I am slightly concerned, but on the other, having put down to experience my hyperchondria-induced, masochistic temperament, I refuse to give in to wild, self-constructed suggestions that I will die of chronic back pain. It is indeed interesting being both hypercondriac and masochistic. Being myself and continuously expanding this idea of self, provides a breeding ground in which one aspect of my nature feeds off the other and I am left stranded in a vicious circle that lives only in the crevices of jelly-like, grey cells, from which I emerge occasionally to give an impression of, at best, acceptable insanity. It is not that the fruits of Epicurus cannot live side by side with the reality of pain. In fact, where the Epicurist is the protagonist, the Masochist can only ever be the antagonist when in self doubt. For both revel in life, the flesh and self-gratification, the former in pleasures of senselessness and the latter in pleasures of pain. Pain holds fast more surely and more truly upon the human soul than self-delusions of airy-fairy notions of freedom, explaining why pain is universal and the Epicurist only runs naked behind his rosebush covered stone wall.

So yes, am viewing these matters of the troubled brain online because I doubt my Bible study group tonight will understand :p

Tuesday, October 24, 2006

London Bridge is not falling down

I know because I' m in London and if London bridge was falling down, everyone would know about it and it's not. So there. Arrived London last night and will be staying with Lauren and Gaby (for geographical purposes, they live in Westferry), which means if you live nearby, I look forward to having dinner with you at some point soon. Met a guy called Chris and the first thing I said to him was, "You're a guy." Story is Lauren had picked me up at the DLR and when we arrived home I thought I needed someone to lift my bag up the stairs. I knew that this dude called chris was there so knocked on the door to ask him to help. For those not in the know, my brain sometimes has trouble realising that sentences spoken in my head cannot be heard by other people so more often than not, people only hear half of what I'm saying and can't figure out why I'm saying the things I'm saying. I had to walk all through Bank station, up and down stairs (no lifts) with a suitcase 3 times my size so thankfully there were guys on hand 3 times to help me along. I just stood blocking half the stairs with my giant bag and waited for someone to help me. Finding guys with fists made out like ham and arms that could forklift cars is far easier here than it is in the east. Although in the ordinary circumstance I would be wary of the gruff-spoken, towering bulk of muscle that helped me and not let them near my person or stuff, me being in the situation I was, couldn't help but feel grateful that they were on hand to help me. My friend Daryl is one such guy. He's clad in leather most days, even in summer and to me, could easily fit in with the london skyline. If he weren't my friend, I would be incredibly nervous around him but it helps having a bodyguard around when I'm walking down dark alleyways on my way home. I'm still a little jet-lagged and make even less sense than I do when not tired. So do forgive my random ramblings but I have to add, you're the one looking at a site in search of a fluffy pooch.

Saturday, October 21, 2006

Working feet

I am really earning my money at Hilton; the work is not hard but constant and it's the repetition that aches but after a while I should be as sturdy as nails, only... I'll be going to London for 2 weeks so when I start again in November, I'll probably be as raw as when I first started on Monday. But the pay is good. spent almost all of it when I got my pay check on Friday; that's the good thing, money in every week instead of monthly. Went to Sungai Wang Plaza (translated as Money River Plaza) at Bukit Bintang (Star Hill) to shop. it seems so strange when tourists here ask me how to get to 'Star Hill' as I only know it as Bukit Bintang. There are some very nice things about working for Hilton and when I think about it, the pros do outweight the cons.

Pros:
1. Free breakfast and lunch
2. I've made friends with chefs in high places (literally, we're on the 33rd floor)
3. TV room with sofa beds (so you can sleep whilst on your break) with Internet connection
4. Pocket money
5. I feel kind of connected with London or at least the international scene because of the many international executives we look after
6. We get BBC News in the lounge; it's too soft to listen to, I'm not allowed to turn the volume up and I'm meant to be serving clients anyway, not standing in front of the TV


Cons:
1. Sore back
2. Sore toes
3. Sore legs
4. Sore bum
... I guess I could albeit grudgingly call it a workout

Tuesday, October 17, 2006

Chavvies

Heard Marcus had a chav night for his birthday. It's sad when I go "Am I bovvered?" to people here as a joke because it's a joke they don't get. Hehehehehe. But people here get lots of things people in London don't. Words like p'rasan, choi and manok don't have the same ring to it trnaslated into English. As I'll be getting Internet access AT HOME soon, life will be smoother, communication, though always wrought with misunderstanding will be faster (so we can miscommunicate faster and make the world a worse place than it already is) and the world will seem smaller. I have written out my gift list for people in London and my gift list for people in Malaysia for when I come back. I like giving presents. It's fun. People don't have to say thank you; I like watching people enjoy the present or hearing that they enjoyed it. That's enough for me. It means somehow, I have played a tiny part in making their day/ week/ year just a little nicer even if they might take the present for granted after a few minutes.

I spend more hours awake than I do asleep. Wow. How did that happen? I got a job. Am now a Hilton employee and have a hilton uniform and Hilton badge and eat Hilton food... I work and study in college enough hours a week (a week, not a day) for me not to have to face the blazing hot sun for more than 15 minutes a day. That is good news. But the gospel is better news. I never thought that I would have a problem proclaiming the gospel in Malaysia. Maybe because I left it when I was too young to understand politics. Maybe the problem has always been there. I don't want to be a coward. I don't want to be silenced just because I don't believe in what the majority believes in. But how far am I willing to go? If the consequences were only to me, somehow, it makes it my problem, if any do arise, in a way, my fight, my life. But it's not my life or my fight. It's not even a fight against the rulers of this world, as the Bible says, but against the principalities that govern the human heart; greed, lust, malice, self-righteousness, pride, sin, the devil. I can only be equipped to fight whatever God may ask me to do. I may not even be asked to be confrontational for my entire lifetime but that's not the point. The point is that I will be ready when I am called. That I will be prepared when I am sent. I suppose that's what being focused is partly about. Not looking to the right or the left, not looking to see how many casualties have fallen in history or how many could fall or even how many there are left. But to fight the good fight, the best fight we can fight for God and His glory that we may finish the race, that when we receive our crowns, we would not regret not having done more.

I am increasingly aware that media law is changing dramatically and media access is like no other time has ever been. I know that my words written may be viewed by anyone at anytime and might even be taken out of context. It might even be used against me and against God's people. When i talk about armies and battle, I could easily be misinterpreted. Called a fundamentalist, whatever that means. I believe the Bible is fundamental. Does that make me a fundamentalist? The Bible calls us to be innocent but shrewd. I might have to rethink how I blog and what I blog about. I might have to go back to maaass emails (oh no! think of all the thousands of kB you'll get in your files if I have your email add... hehehe). I started with chavvies but my train of thought is rather far away from whether it's a fashion faux paux to wear pink or fake burberry tracksuits from head to toe.

Thursday, October 12, 2006

Another day, one day at a time

First off, a BIG sorry to all who love Malaysia and everything in it, even the weather. I will try not to grumble or moan or complain because where else can you get such lush trees (fed well by the extreme amounts of CO2 in the air which slowly kills of humans and animals but allow the plants to reign supreme) whilst travelling to and from college? There are things I like about KL; namely food and air conditioning. There are things I don't like; like obnoxious guys who ask for my mobile number. Well, that kind of happened in London as well but it remains something I don't like. Actually, the most current guy is a course mate (I use the term 'mate' lightly) and the way he phrased exchanging numbers went something like this,

Him: Take my number down.
Me : Huh?
Him: Go on, take my number down then give me a call so I'll have your number.
Me (still in a daze): Ok.

I proceed to give him my number and then kick myself for it. History repeats itself, first as tragedy and then only ever as farce. I should just tattoo 'dyke' on my forehead then I wouldn't get any sleazy guys giving me the jeepers-creepers. But it is kind of my problem too. I can generally say 'no' except when a guy asks for my number, no matter how weird, deranged or plain psycho. It's like a default programme in me that is constantly and consistently defected.

Anyway, better news to follow, I'll get internet access at home after I come back from London so I won't have to travel half and hour in the heat to an access point. I am slowly establishing a group of friends, although I call Ryl and Sarah back in Kuching often. I have a few makan moments lined up (makan means eat) cos am making almost as many makan buddies as I have Christian. I can't even do laksa without crying. I try not to open my mouth in public unless I speak Malay because I'm pretty conscious of the fact my English sounds like I probably came from Pluto (which I will forever hold to as a planet, no matter what wacky scientists who can't be bothered to travel there say). In Malaysia, you want to stay as inconspicuos as possible so you don't get mugged, cheated or hit on. I've had problems not being able to converse in Mandarin because most Chinese people in KL don't speak Hokkien. Great, in London being bilingual would have made enough of a wow factor. In Malaysia, not speaking Mandarin, is a supposed foothold for tactless people to release proverbial mental diarrohea concerning my disregard to my heritage as a Chinese person. Go and flush a toilet. It didn't help either that the person who adjusted my mobile selected Chinese as the language of choice which means I have to find a Chinese person who CAN speak Mandarin to help me untangle the mess. Grrrrr.....

As much as I am Malaysian and will carry the things I've learned in my country to my grave (is that good enough for undying patriotism??!!??), no sooner did I 'settle,' my feet were itching to move again. Not just to London. Maybe Australia, maybe America or Canada. I haven't quite 'found' myself yet and am still looking for my poodle. Maybe when I find my poodle, I'll find home. I wonder if there'll be poodles in the New Creation...

Wednesday, October 04, 2006

Homesick

For the first time in my life yesterday, I was decidedly homesick... for London. Quite a few people have made settling into KL a bit more... settling, but yesterday whilst all was quiet in the apartment, I made the decision to wallow in self-pity and indulge in wanton misery. In reality, I should have been 'most amazed and delighted at my extraordinary circumstances' to Seneka-cise my words (Seneka is a friend of mine who loves mixing as many adjectives of lofty disposition as possible together in the same sentence, preferably one after the other). My room is the biggest I've ever had, I have a king-sized bed (result of the marriage of two single beds), not one but TWO wardrobes, windows so large I can fall right through them - literally (if I lived on the ground floor it would have been my escape from unwanted visitors who called unexpectedly but unfortunately I live on the fifth floor overlooking the tennis courts) - and til January, my own bathroom. Not that I dislike KL, I'm actually starting to enjoy it a bit more... I've been to the MidValley Megamall, Jaya Supermarket and college twice each, so shopping outnumbering studying at the moment 2:1. It's the little things I miss about London...

1. Being able to pop into Superdrug and know exactly where the eyecream is and how much it'll cost without having to consult my sometimes deactivated Malay dictionary in my head to ask (where the nail clippers are).

2. Yelling for Elena to see if she wants to go to Blockbusters or Tesco to get popcorn. At about 11am today, I wanted popcorn with melted butter so badly but I would have had to walk for half and hour in the blazing sun just for mediocre popcorn.

3. Having a part time job. I can hardly find any part time jobs here unless I did free lance stuff. I have a good mind to write into major newspapers begging them to let me write feature articles just so I have more than my CLP to do. Saying that, Andrew, who's the pastor at my new church, SMACC, has said he would like me to do some church work. For the time being, I have no idea what this church work is or whether it will be voluntary or paid but I'm still holding out for a part time job.

4. I miss being able to walk down the road and get whatever I needed; Chinese, videos, DVDs, popcorn, flu medicine, INTERNET ACCESS!!!!!!! I searched Megamall for an hour before I found this place secluded away behind a bookshop. One disadvantage of Megamall - it's too big... I don't have internet access at home and though initially I thought I could go into college for it, I discovered that my college is now using the so called computer lab for classes, Oi! What's the big idea??!!?? Some people actually want, no, need to surf to rid excess energy. Do you realise the amount of calories one could burn just by repetitively typing???!!??? I feel like screaming but no sound echoes forth so I shut my mouth to avoid looking like a goldfish. So, I will get a laptop at home soon. I don't know when but if not soon enough, my head might burst then you'll see all my ideas squirming around on the floor then someone might steal them and copyright them and then my parents wouldn't get the royalty and, and, and....

5. I watched Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory yesterday and seeing Johnny Depp reminded me of Phil Blue :(

However, it has to be said that my week here has not been dreadful. Besides the people, one or two other things did make me smile.

1. Cheap jewellery

2. Miles and miles of shopping - only I don't have a car so being exposed to the hot, hot sun, practical daywear would be the shorts, T-shirt and walking shoes combo which kind of limits my creativity to dress up. Also I don't want to draw attention to myself else ruthless muggers here might get to me. One of my coursemates, Cheryl asked me if I had bought my pepper spray yet on my first lesson.

3. Burger King, Nandos (reminded me of Elena and Pete), Crabtree and Evelyn (only everything there is super expensive because they've had to convert it into ringgit and then plus crazy tax on top of it), tinned pinapple.

So there, I feel so much better venting my feelings, even though possibly only 5 people will read this (I think) or maybe more (I don't know). At this point, I'm looking forward to going back to London at the end of October just to get that eyecream from Superdrug and to watch Jonathan Ross.

Regardless of everything, I just want to say - Jesus rocks and Heaven is certain! One good thing about not having internet at home and not wanting to read up on my law is that I read God's word more and am reminded constantly that even as I feel homesick for another earthly place, how much more should I feel 'homesick' for the New Creation because truly, that is our home, as Christians. So there, I am a disgruntled yet contented Christian, living in a country that should be my home but is not, making each moment count because there's nothing I can do about the moment that has passed. Jesus rules and He loves us :) Awesome God.

Wednesday, September 27, 2006

On the road again

Said goodbye to my brother just now. Have only been home a week and I'm off again. I wonder if he feels upset that his big sister is leaving him again. Or maybe I've been away so long he doesn't notice. As much as I'd like him to miss me, I would rather he not and be okay than miss me and be sad. There's almost nothing worse than leaving people you care about; funny isn't it? I'll only be across a pond and will even be able to fly back for weekends yet I miss him as much as if I were in London. Am in the middle of packing and despite having bought a larger suitcase, when I went out for dinner with my mum, I still felt drawn to buying more...

Travelling is fun. Or at least, that's what I tell myself and that's what I believed. Until recently I was contemplating life as a globe trotter, perhaps a lifetime of running away and living for the moment. If I leave before I settle, I can carpe diem more because I wouldn't have to worry about consequences as I would be leaving anyway. However, there have been snatches of doubt and pockets of uncertainty even while I day dream of riding a camel across the Gobi desert. I can only put it down to me being female. If I weren't female, I wouldn't even need to wrestle against the - I can't believe I'm going to say this - want (did you hear that word being spat out?) of settling and being secure. I'd just go ride my camel, donkey or whatever else and hunt and sleep outside and... okay, very primitive view of man but hey, you get the picture. And because being me, who wants to fly in the face of convention and everything 'normal,' I force myself, on basis of principle, to not be everything everyone is telling me I'll be; a wife, a mother, a lawyer, a rich person, a stable income class, respected, looked up to, bla bla bla. Perhaps believing all that makes life more painful; that some women who want to be wives never meet the 'right' man and some who want children come face to face with closed wombs. Not accepting that I want such and such could make whatever I do have all the more special. Except that I don't stop at not accepting, I run in the opposite direction, running away from it as if I never want to be bound to it, by it, for it, with it.

I think about my place in life and in society more, the more I travel. It's hard to leave people behind even as I look forward to meeting new people and old friends in another country. What do I want? I am so fickle that whatever I want could only bring me destruction if not surrendered to God. God gave me passion but unless my passion is bridled for His use, it is only destructive all the time and hurts me, my ministry, my witness and those around me, knowingly or unknowingly. In the end, I can only do what my Maker wants me to do because I only want to do what my Maker wants me to do. I want our wills to be so intertwined, I yearn to see Him face to face. It will be a terrible day to behold His glorious beauty a sinner and yet knowing He will then call my name and save me as His own, is too much to bear and the only way I can thank Him, in the minutest form in the miserable state that I am in, is to live my life His way, and only His way. So in some respect, I am calm about moving, knowing it means I will meet more people with whom I can share the gospel and my life with. The important thing is making it last with the people I have now and making sure nothing that has to be said goes unsaid.

Tuesday, September 26, 2006

Growing old

Sarah, Cheryl and I are no longer the 3 year olds we used to be - doh. We are proud to proclaim that we do not wet our beds, suck our thumbs or wear squeaky shoes that our parents thought were fashionable. We no longer attend church in our pyjamas as we used to do in primary school because getting up earlier than 15 minutes before church was just too early. We no longer drink from the milkbottle although I still remember exactly how much I drank; 3 scoops of milk powder, 1 scoop of chocolate malt (Milo) and 6 ounzes of water. We no longer beg for rides home from senior youth members who can drive. Instead we're being begged to drive them home. We no longer speak the lingo and we repeat everything our parents used to tell us to anyone who will listen. We shoulder responsibilities, feel tired by 10pm and have to think of what to prepare for breakfast the next day. We look at the younglings in church and wonder why they worry about certain things which seem so minute until we realise we worried about the exact same things when we were their age.

The best test of our age old wisdom came tonight when we went to Cheryl's new house and tried to unlock her wardrobe. The key was no where to be found so we tried to open the door the old fashion way; by force and a bit of brain power.

How many girls does it take to open a locked wardrobe?

About half an hour (or was it an hour) later, we had tried using most girlified equipment to open the door - cardboard, hairclips, safety pin, clothes hanger, light from the back of a mobile phone, even a pair of tweezers because a pair of manly pliers could not be found. Eventually, the door was forced open! Hooray for the over 20s locked door challenge champions...

Sunday, September 24, 2006

Rested, resting, rest

So, I have been home 3 days yet it feels like 3 months. Coming home was not as bad as I thought it would be; I neither forgot how to behave acceptably in public nor my Malay when questioned. The food is as good as always and am trying to fit in as many home town dishes into my belly before I fly to KL, but things have changed, especially apparent in the fact that I shared my bowl of char siu mee pok with Sarah at supper on Saturday. Results of my restraint were not unpleasant though as both A and I commented that I looked like I had lost weight - yesssss!!!!!!!! - it was probably the clothes I was wearing rather than actually having lost weight though but it was nice to think others thought so ;p

I was actually really stressed last night at the thought of going to KL so soon. I would have liked to rest and put my feet up a couple more weeks but that just will not do as I seriously need to get cranking on my course. It was not merely the thought of going to KL that bothered me; usually I am quite happy going anywhere and turning it into home. I think my stress is that I think I need to do certain things. It was fine when I wanted to move, wanted to look for housing, wanted to find a job, wanted a phone, wanted a housemate but now the mode had shifted to need. I think the panic and worry had mounted for some time, which led to a full-out, SOS signal to God; having to look for accomodation with my dad (part of me feels I will be less stressed if he did not come along but part of me is glad for the company), buying a new phone tomorrow, memorising a new number, getting to grips with the whats, wheres, whys, hows and whos and a host of other previous issues I had to settle before leaving London wormed their way through my 'Everything's OK' road block between my brain... and my brain.

I wish I did not have to go back to study. I wish I could just spend a few more days at home with my brother and dogs (Troy and Deuce have grown so much and Sally has been an awesome mum to them - I'm so proud!), playing marbles and sleeping and letting my dogs chew my feet. But you know what? Life will not wait for me to be ready. Life will go on and I have to be ready. I wish I were 15 again when the biggest worry was whether I could slip through without being caught by the prefects on duty for having long fingernails during the daily assembly inspections or whether the Maths teacher would catch me eating in class. When we were 15, growing up was all we ever wanted to do. 7 years down the line and we find growing up is about responsibility, burdens and a jarred history. We find that at 25, what we wanted for ourselves at 25 when we were 15, was what we kind of already had at 15. I can't roll my eyes at the adults anymore, I am one. I don't wonder why they worry and seem to not enjoy life, I feel the same way. I don't question them for slowing down when the world seems to be speeding up, I like music from the 80s - how old is that??!!?? - and that's what I call music. Soon my slimline phone will be too bulky because they'll all have microcells implanted and nanopods will be replaced by gigapods. "Nanopods?" we will be asked, "...that's some box my grandmother used to fiddle around with."

I guess I'm still healing. Time heals. God heals. But to heal, I need rest and I guess my wounds are just being tried a little more than I would like them to be because I'm not getting enough rest. So, here's to rest.

Thursday, September 21, 2006

Love bug; it's just a bug right?

The Feeling - Never Be Lonely

People in love they're fast and foolish
People in love get everything wrong
People in love get scared and stupid
People in love get everything wrong

At least they're not lonely
At least they're not lonely
They'll never be lonely

B-b-b-baby
I think I'm going c-c-c-crazy
Why should I be sane without you (hahh)

They tell me to fight it
They can bloody well just try it
I'll never be the same without you (hahh)

People in love get special treatment
People in love get everything wrong
People in love their hearts get eaten
People in love get everything wrong

At least they're not lonely
At least they're not lonely
They'll never be lonely

B-b-b-baby
I think I'm going c-c-c-crazy
And why should I be sane without you (hahh)
They tell me to fight it
But they can bloody well just try it

Touchdown

Am currently in very big airport waiting for next flight home. Am also somewhat hungry after giving that reasonable thought but because internal body clock is a bit confused, although I am generally confused and confusing, I don't feel like eating. Much. Marcus emailed to clarify a few things I didn't know beforehand. I didn't know a boeing 747 was a jet. Wow. All this time I have literally been 'jetting' back and forth around the world. Cool. Very cool. He also said that an 'I Owe You' was a rain check, not a rain cheque. I assumed the latter just because most things people own other people have something to do with money. Managed to get all my luggage on the plane back at Heathrow. Went extra early cos had lots of stuff (even after sending off 179 kilos in advance - I should SO be a collector or collecter, whichever way a pedant would put it) but was coincidentally very teary when nice lady behind counter asked if I was going home for good so she checked all my stuff in and I believe, but have yet to confirm... she upgraded me to a first class, window seat for this next flight home. Goody. Tears work wonders with everything. I don't like using them in general but if it lets me get my way, turn on the tap! I think there are people waiting behind me to make use of this free internet connection. I really don't think they should expect me to go any faster. Afterall, I waited my turn, someone else should wait theirs. Just because I'm not a hundred a sixty two shouldn't mean I can't use the free internet services too. Anyway, if I were a hundred and sixty two, I'd probably need my great great grandchildren's grandchildren to type as I dictate, as old ladies do. Not that I have anything against dictating or old ladies although I would draw the line at dictators and permanently cranky old ladies.

Monday, September 18, 2006

Reality check

So, I will fly on Wednesday... can't say I feel too bad. Leaving London is almost a farce. I said almost. I have planned to be back for Carly's wedding (woo hoo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) in November and my mum has just said she would like me to come back in January for my graduation so I can take that all important photo drapped in tapestry as I was in Japan when I was meant to graduate (see where my priorities lie :) ??). That would mean that I will return to London more times in a year than I did going home to Malaysia in 5 years hence, a farce. It will also mean that Elena and I will graduate together - if they have both the Theology and Law graduates on the same day - yay, together, we wouldn't be so totally bored out of our minds! My plans when I get home so far include: Church wise, I will be going to SMACC. Amy M from St H knows people there as do a friend or two here and it's affiliated, or so I'm told, to St Ebbes, Oxford. So good teaching all around. Furthermore, I'm told some services are held in golf clubs! How strange. Even better. I have also made plans to meet up with Eing back home and to eat lots of good Kuching food before I go.

Friday, September 15, 2006

My interesting day

My interesting day started with an interesting night in which I dreamt of nothing because I couldn't get to sleep for long enough to dream of anything. If I had dreamt of anything, it would have been me reincarnated as a ferret with a brindled bull terrier chasing me, foaming at the jowls. Two hours of tossing and turning led to more tossing and turning, opening and shutting windows, chucking pillows overboard, looking for them again, kicking my duvet away, chilling to the bone, heating up when the duvet was back on and nursing a very sore head. Several times I thought I would need to drag myself to the bathroom to regurgitate the contents of my stomach which would have consisted of Chinese, Chinese and more Chinese and 5 Lindor Lindt truffle chocolates. Being seasick couldn't be worse.

So, after my interesting might, I started my interesting day by looking in the mirror. Bad choice. I wish I could have forgotten what I looked like but the memory will stay with me everytime I feel the urge to laugh at (or gawk at more likely) balding turkeys or scab ridden dogs. Had to nevertheless meet and greet a potential housemate who was a VERY tall Aussie lass, which made my neck ached even as my muscles tried to form a nice, benign smile. After the girl had gone I soaked tea bags to put on my eyes to relief it of the heaviness that threatened to drown my eyeballs in my eyelids. The Jo knocked on the door. I had no idea she was coming and thought that it might be important post or something. Opened the door with tea smeared around my eyes and tongue still stuck halfway down my throat. Went back to bed. Jo suggested I used cucumber so with tea stains still visible on my face, I went to the local grocer to buy a cucumber. I have met him in my pyjamas with a towel round my head so I doubt he took tea stains on my face to heart. Bought a cucumber. Sliced it with the knife I used to slice my kievs in half. Kievs are chicken-based. The smell of the marriage between cucumber and chicken brought me back to Kuching, my hometown where the best Hainan Chicken rice is sold; delicate steamed chicken with thinly sliced pickled cucumber and carrots dipped in chilli, ginger and garlic.. MMMMMMMMM. All of a sudden, going home wasn't so bad an idea.

Sarah came round at about 2. We then went to Chancery Lane; Ede and Ravescroft to see if I could get a graduation gown cos I was in Japan when the rest of my class graduated and had no idea a picture of me swamped in an oversized poncho meant so much to my parents so had not bothered to go find one sooner. Unfortunately, all their academic gowns are in Cambridge and there was not enough time for them to send one to London before I left. As much as I am sorry that my mum will not have a picture of me waving a non-certificate around with a bit of velvet covered cardboard stuck to my head, I believe I have been saved from a certain fashion faux paux that is only fashionable because it symbolises tradition; something the British are very good at.

Will be watching Phantom of the Opera again tonight with Pete and Elena.

Thursday, September 14, 2006

What now?

I wish I were in the middle of the ocean with a 450-pound Bengal tiger. Finished reading Life of Pi today and have allowed myself to wallow in self-pity for a bit, wishing myself anywhere but here, even on a lifeboat with no companion save a tiger who would probably eat me the first chance he got. Eating raw turtle couldn't possibly be worse... maybe my wish will be answered, hey, I'll be flying home soon. Life's problems are funny - not haha funny else they wouldn't be problems, but unexplainably funny. Weird funny. Annoying funny. Constant funny - not constantly funny. When I was in Malaysia I faced a certain set of problems, when I'm in London, the same, when I went to Japan - even though for only 3 weeks, for crying out loud! - I met the same problems there. I think the problem is me. Should I wish for God to wire me differently? I kind of like who I am; except for this nasty t-h-o-r-n. This thorn I have is so bad, I would happily tear mylimbs apart to free myself from it. A couple of bloodied pints lost will amount to nothing if I could rid myself from this sore. If I had a beak, I would tunnel my way through my own flesh until a gaping hole was permanent, to take hold of the thorn and fling it as far away as I can. If only I could be Prometheus, chained to a rock, having my torso torn apart and my liver eaten every day by vultures and eagles, if my thorn were in my liver. Unfortunately for Prometheus, his liver regrew every evening, to be torn apart and eaten again the next day. I just wish for my thorn to be eaten once. But that cannot be. Unless Frankenstein's monster came and plunged his hand into my ribs, pulling out my heart, I will never be rid of this thorn. Unless my brain went into a coma, even if my body were to shrivel and contort, my thorn will still haunt me. Oh, to be rid of it! The rawness of the wounds inflicted may be more than I can bear yet, Jesus says my grace is sufficient for you, my stength is made perfect in your weakness. Many times I have done a Catherine Tate, "Am I boverred!!??!!" to God only to have silence answer me. Then I answer myself, of course I am bothered. Doh. Part of the reason why my thorn taunts me so is because I AM bothered about what I do and say. If I really weren't bothered, stuff all, I'd do things my way. Anyway, I have to go off for Chinese now. Jo is waiting...

Tuesday, September 12, 2006

In the park

It seems odd that I do not blog everyday, that I have weeks sometimes between blogs, that I think more and talk/ write less. That was something I thought I would never do and something the 'old' Deborah would have gawked at. Nothing to say??? Actually plenty to say, just too much to put into words. Went to the park today with a few friends and had Bible quizzes to see exactly how little of the Bible we knew. It's amazing that the teachers of the law in Jesus' day would have had memorised considerable chunks, if not the whole Old Testament. I mean, the Pharisees were always the lot that got the stick but you have to admit, if they didn't know their scripture by heart, some of Jesus' more radical claims and phrases would not have had the impact it did. And to dedicate hours, days and an extire lifetime memorising scripture, if we can take anything away from the Pharisees (besides not being hypocrites) it would be to memorise scripture. And how much more do we as Christians have! For we would not be memorising God's words blindly, not knowing what they meant or worse, applying it in a way we were never meant to; our eyes have been opened and our minds renewed by the Holy Spirit that the Bible is no longer another cultural text, but God's Word, as full of life today as it was when God first spoke them into hearts long ago!

In the park I also saw a poodle - unclipped - and a gorgeous, police chestnut (horse) whom I wished I had the room and riding experience to take home with me. He had a nice butt.

Thursday, September 07, 2006

Memories

People I have 'met' in London whom I will never forget:

1. Jonathan Ross
2. Father Ted Krilly
3. Father Dougal Maguire
4. I will try forget Father Jack
5. Mrs Doyle
6. Alan Davies
7. Stephen Fry
8. Fern Britton and Philip Scofield
9. Gordon Ramsay

Most of the above might be a total clueless list if you're not British or have access to British tv but it shall serve as a memory for me when I review my blog in the following months/ years.

If you want to take a peek at my new college: Brickfields college

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

Right, left, write, wrong, rite, Wong...

Things that went right (they went the Wong-way that's my way so they went right) today:

1. Did not wake up with a headache
2. Had Chinese and fried seaweed for breakfast
3. Saw 2 more girls for the house
4. My cheque has come through!
5. Met Carly for Starbucks
6. Went to Smithfields for shopping - Carly bought me a one-pound scarf (bargain)
7. Saved 25 pounds by NOT buying a dress
8. Had tiramisu and hazelnut ice cream
9. Another Christian girl has contacted me about the house
10. Am looking forward to seeing Victoria tomorrow to watch a play called 'Boyfriend' in Regents Park
11. Am going for dinner with Eileen tomorrow night for pui bak (fatty belly pork - yummmm)

So things DID look brighter!

Tuesday, September 05, 2006

Stress is no fun

Let's list all the things that went wrong today:

1. A cheque I banked has yet to come through so now I'm in the red
2. I have yet to find a housemate and I need to find one AND she has to sign the contract by this Friday.
3. The person I think is most suitable for the housemates I will leave behind has yet to give me her number. I can only bombard her with emails :p
4. I cannot sell my law books to Blackwells because they only accept books in November and by then I'll be gone.
5. I could not sell my Russian Law book to Hamiltons because they don't stock it so can't buy it back. Why can't they just buy it to recyle??!!??
6. I have a monster of a computer I would gladly 'give' away for fifty bucks including scanner and printer.
7. I need chocolate but am in the red so will feel really guilty if I bought it. Besides, I had chocolate for dinner last night.
8. Am panicking ever so slightly.
9. Am in line for being labelled 'the tap' by God because everytime I think of leaving I leak.

Maybe tomorrow will look brighter.

Weeks to go

I have one week before I bring my official accounts in London to a close! The arrangement I had for my room has fallen through because of reasons I do not think necessary to discuss but I am in a right state about what to do now. I know God is sovereign and frankly, I've gone through too many emotions to deal with anymore; to get angry, upset or otherwise and there's always the other person to think about. I could throw a fuss and spew molten lava everywhere but that's not going to help - I guess I'll just take life as it comes. It does mean however, that I have ONE WEEK to find someone to stand in my place else I'll continue paying for a room I'll not be using. Needless to say I am disappointed but some things can't be helped. Other things I have to do include emptying Hamlett (double T there, no spelling mistake), my prized, self-painted, glazed, clay piggybank. He's only filled with coppers so I'll be spending a good day counting them out. I'll be spending the remnants of my days in London going to the West End, having dinners in favourite diners (done Tinseltown and Nandos), finding a new housemate and working up the courage to tell the girl at the Chinese take-a-way about Jesus.

Thursday, August 31, 2006

Oranges, zebras and leopards

Not to be big headed or anything but the current design in high street stores are SO copying me. When it was once considered lame to wear zebra or leopard print, I proudly wore mine and now, it's everywhere!!! And it's deemed fashionable now. What I don't like is that now when I wear my prints, people are going to think I'm a fashion victim rather than trend setter - boo! Also, I've been meaning to get an orange top for ages to go with my white skirt but now orange is EVERYWHERE which makes me reluctant to buy it now. My only consolation is that fashion is very different back home and so whatever I wear will be my own...

My dad has decided that he doesn't want me in a YMCA afterall. After all the kerfuffle, I won't get to fulfil the live-in hippie role I was hoping I'd embrace.

Wednesday, August 30, 2006

Annoyed for no reason

Yeah, that's part of being a girl. Do I need a reason to get annoyed? Unfortunately in the heat of annoyance, feelings get hurt, sentiments ruined and good relations spoiled. Grrrrrrrr.

The movers and shakers will pack my things up on 12th September so that'll mean goodbye to my sets and sets of shoes til I see them 'on the other side' in a week's time. Thankfully, I don't think I have enough shoes to warrant a 'stupid girl' title courtesy of Pink. More worryingly, it's goodbye saxophone and books and books. I have collected more books in the last 3 years than in my entire teenage years. But then, I was spending more time either brooding in my room and punching pillows or out talking with my dog than I was reading so that shouldn't be surprising. My dad has suggested YMCA accommodation for me in KL. Initially I thought, "NO WAY!!" I'm used to a 2-storey house, complete with bathroom, own living area, big kitchen, oven and TV. YMCA conjured up images of shared kitchen/ bathroom and living area and the one thing I dislike with regards to housing over everything else is shared bathrooms. When I went for my Oxford interview, I balked at the shared bathroom existance I might have to have. It was almost inconceivable that I had to walk down 2 corridors to use the lavatory and then queue again for the use of bathrooms. I was nearly happy that I got rejected. Nearly because no one likes to get rejected, by Oxford or otherwise.

However after much internal deliberation, I think I should embrace the idea of living in the YMCA. Sure I probably wouldn't have the privacy I want and I might have to turn a blind eye to crusty cooker tops and the lack of an oven but it's only for 10 months or so and I could be the live-in Christian hippie whom tourists meet and hey, other people not withstanding, I could be the only Christian person they might ever meet. It might be quite funny to see someone aimlessly wandering the corridors of the YMCA in the evening with a toothbrush in her mouth, practising the foxtrot without a partner. I am decidedly warming up to the idea of being a hippie. Gypsy skirts and dreadlocks. Dreadlocks??!!?? I wonder what my college will think of that. I already ponder that the many piercings I have might not be to everyone's liking hence I'll have to keep a substantial length of hair to cover up on less appropriate moments. Anyway, it may be that I wouldn't live in the YMCA afterall. It's a jungle out there but as long as I have a two-edged sword, I should be okay.

Tuesday, August 29, 2006

Dancer off her feet

People were dancing in the square in Southbank yesterday. Proper dancing. Ballroom dancing. Waltz, jive, foxtrot. As I watched from Waterloo bridge, I wished I had someone to dance with at that point. I don't know if there will be a dancing community in KL although HW said he'll put me in touch with a few of them who left London recently. As I watched the people dance, what held my attention was not the couple who could clearly dance head and shoulders above everyone else, but the children laughing as they twirled one another around in circles, the love birds who were just enjoying the music and taking 2 steps at a time whilst looking at everyone else to see which way they could go, fathers who were dancing with their daughters who only reached their waist and most touchingly the over 50s who looked like their knees were going to give way yet were relishing one another's company in a way only old love can. And to top it off, they were dancing in the light drizzle of the evening in plastic pink raincoats supplied by the organisers. A vision of pink indeed.

Saturday, August 26, 2006

Packing

Packing is going well, or not so well depending on how one sees it. I managed to scoop FREE boxes from my 'local' bookshop and lugged them home (about 10 of them). Just as the tape holding them together was about to break (about 50 steps from my front door) Jerome came and rescued me :) He's only 14 but I can forsee him breaking hearts in the future. Intentionally or unintentionally is another matter but yes, he was a gentleman, which fitted in with my mood for the day after having read Pride and Prejudice. If I were 12, I would be smitten. Actually if I were 14, I would be smitten. Anyway got right down to the business of packing, propping the boxes up and making them 3D. Before I'd packed half a box, I was starting to feel teary so quickly went and looked for food. Food keeps my brain on auto pilot so I'm not thinking about why I'm packing. The food I bought for my brother is now sitting in my stomach and when I walk by grocery stores I top up on my tinned pineapple. I LOVE tinned pineapple.

Wednesday, August 23, 2006

Weddings galore

In the flurry of emotion, I totally forgot to blog about the wedding front. Have attended 3 friends' (or 5 if you count them individually; 2 couples were both my friends) weddings this August, one in which I was a waitress.

Eileen and Alfred's wedding was waaay back on the 5th at St Helens where as a guest, I happily got stuck into an onion bhaji before meeting Martin in Covent Garden. They went to Tanzania for their honeymoon. It's almost a month now since they started wearing the 'man and wife' title. Couldn't make the dinner reception of 12 gorgeous Chinese courses (I heard), one of which was shark's fin soup - YUM!

I was serving at Heather's wedding the Saturday after. Somehow it didn't occur to me that serving as a waitress meant running around. I wore black heels to look 'smart' as Lauren wanted. Silly me. Ended up wincing all the way to Mile End where there was a party there with people I had not seen in a long time; Adam, Hazel, Philip, Daryl... Thankfully I got a lift from Sim and Rebecca to the party and from James Jamieson back to my place so that helped A LOT. Else I would have to deal with the long walk to and from bus stops.

The Saturday that just passed, I was in Lancing for Joe and Tara's wedding. Was there from Wednesday for Tara's hen night, where we went to a pottery painting place - I painted a large cappucino cup and saucer and am very proud of it - and had Chinese take away. Into Thursday and Friday, I helped make service orders, waited for the fudge man (whom I took a picture of - I'd bet no one he delivered stuff to ever took a picture of him before and with such glee too I must add), watched a lot of SKY and helped Tara's mum empty her fridge of chocolate mousse ;) Joe and Tara are now in Nice. The aforementioned Sim and Rebecca were also married on the same Saturday. I couldn't make it but I heard the whole affair was 'very Sim-and-Rebecca.'

4 weddings...

Tuesday, August 22, 2006

Summary

Hey guys, things have been pretty hectic around here. I'll be zoning out of London 20th September and arriving Kuching the next day. Then I'll chill back home (SIB! SIB!) over the weekend then my dad and I will fly to KL to look for accommodation. My new college will be near a YMCA so anytime people want to visit if I don't have space on my floor... you're more than welcome to crash with me, only I have no idea where I'll be staying. Studio flat, 2 bedroom, 2 bedrooms... who knows??!!?? Too many emotions running through my head and I don't want to turn my blog into a mush story hence the lack of blogging. But just to bring you up to speed, I have been crying the last week almost every day. There, that'll definitely keep b-o-y-s away from my blog. Hahahahahaha. Except Daniel. Right DANIEL??!!?? You'll always read my blog and tell Carly to read it too right? Okay, that was a bit too specific. But that's the problem, when my brain and my heart are not in the right gear, the car jump starts, jerks and then crashed into the car parked in front ( if you parked it too closely in the first place). So I will keep my head when all around me are losing theirs and I will keep afloat when all around me are sinking... yeah that's because I've got a wider expanse to cover surface area.

Anyway, wayward emotions aside, I'm getting into the hang of packing, repacking, buying more stuff and then repacking some more. I have a wish list from my brother I'm going to fulfill even if it means trekking goodness knows where just because I'm that sort of person. He's taking up art which is brilliant; I might frame his paintings on my wall and stick them on my fridge like a proud mum, only I'm his sister and I don't know if I'll have a fridge. It's so weird that I'll be living in KL for 8-9 months. in some ways that's perfect cos to me Malaysia means Kuching and besides the shopping and the zoo, I don't know what I'll find interesting in KL (sorry Wai Nyan, I'm sure you'll find me something exciting to dig my nails into). Also, it'll be nice to live in a place in Malaysia other than Sarawak (for those not in the know, it's the state where Kuching - city - is in). And there's a ballroom dancing association in KL and I'll be able to indoor ice skate, neither of which will be available in Kuching in huge quantities although my friend teaches ballroom. The next 2 years are sorted at least. Who knows what the years that follow will bring. But for now, I have to pack, say my goodbyes, try to hold back tears and then on the plane.... WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH! Maybe that'll get me extra peanuts, pillows and pineapple juice from the air stewardesses.

Tuesday, August 15, 2006

These boots were made for walking...

No, I am NOT a big fan of Jessica Simpson. No, wait, I will rephrase that. I am NOT a fan of Jessica Simpson. Besides, she was not the first person to record that song and my vote goes to the original version. Contrary to the song's motive for walking boots (walking all over the source of injured pride), my boots (and I have quite a few) are making their way over seas and continents back from whence I came; Malaysia. That's right folks. After 5 years in London, I am making my way back home come October. I have lived in London for longer than some Londoners have, although then they wouldn't call themselves Londoners would they? I don't think the time has come for me to start summing up what my experience has been like and I believe enough has been said through the years on my blog. Every year has brought on new challenges and new friendships, it's own share of burdens and joys, but then again, that does not make my life any different from Tom, Dick or Harry or Joe. For the moment, I've got books to read, errands to run and a wedding to attend. As I contemplate going home, part of me doesn't want to. I have settled here (oh no!) and feel more alive and unrestrained than I did in Malaysia, which led to teenage rebellion and a lot of angst-ridden brooding sessions in my room, which had black, paper bats - the flying rodent kind, although that said, bats are not rodents - hanging from the ceiling. Going home, I might have to bring my stubborn streak of individuality under control again and will have to constantly remember that the older generations in Asian communities demand respect and almost reverance and the lack of it thereof will bring about angry outbursts of blame, hurt and tension. I'll have to adjust to a different church, a different community and a different lifestyle. To make matters slightly more interesting yet exciting, I'll be living in KL, the capital, which I've never lived in before. The slang used is different, the food will be different and the pollution levels.... oh well... maybe I could have a greenhouse on the balcony. Part of me however, feels that the time is right to move, if I ever want to move. I suppose it just depends which side pulls harder; the part that wants to make a nice little hovel in the ground in which I can lay my derriere or the twitchy side that wants to run and never get caught.

Thursday, August 10, 2006

Home, home, home

I am suffering (again) from this thing called nervous energy. Perhaps when God created me, He inserted 500 hares between my knee and ankle joints for fun. (For those of you who would claim the audacity of such a claim - that a loving God would put long-eared, busy tailed mammals in beings made in His image - I believe God possesses a unique characteristic, which incidentally He added to our souls, called 'humour'). Anyway, I feel the onslaught of a migraine coming on, which although does not give me the right to be petty, batty and catty, provides me with an emotional shield, which blocks out cause and effect. By the way, nervous energy is not a disease, I just twitch a lot. Maybe I have ADD but that I've thought about that for far too long for it to become an issue.

BREAKING NEWS!!! I could be going back to Malaysia by November this year (and the world groans as another plane follows a gravity line from London to Malaysia. If we could wear ruts in the sky where we've travelled, the care bears would have less road accidents). That is the extent of my logical (logical??!!) conversation for the day. I'm off to see if I can blag expired muffins for my tea.

Monday, August 07, 2006

Work; a chasing after the wind?

Ecclesiastes 2: 10 - 11
I denied myself nothing my eyes desired;

I refused my heart no pleasure.

My heart took delight in all my work,

and this was the reward for all my labor.


Yet when I surveyed all that my hands had done

and what I had toiled to achieve,
everything was meaningless,
a chasing after the wind;

nothing was gained under the sun.


Am currently looking for work and in London, you would think that there will be no shortage of jobs - the land of opportunity and glory. However, there are little niggles that play a part in limiting job openings namely my qualifications, how big my pond is, how fast I can swim and whether I have any interest in the said job at all. Not every fish likes worms. Some fish eat other fish. If I were a fish, I'd be a pike. You might think that as a law graduate, I would have ample opportunity to go into city firms and become one of those pin-striped people of black, blue, grey or city yuppies forbid... red, but I really don't want to be another skittle in a box (even though London is a very nice box with high street shopping and kebab diners). Furthermore, I would like to enjoy my job, not just do it for having a job's sake. Being a solicitor (pin-striped lawyer) is extremely rewarding for some and for the right person, it could be a dream come true but having a computer in front of me and a keyboard at my fingertips the whole day without the satisfaction of at least a daily bout of Tetris or Solitaire would be like having a cup of water under my nose in the desert. I would rather not tempt fate to 'try be good' than getting the boot for running round the block screaming that I'd conquered the 14th level of Super Tetris. Heads will turn, not in admiration over my strategic abilities to lead my blocks to certain victory but that I had been playing Tetris at all. Maybe my aggression could be taken out on a job that involved physical activity or debating, which brings me to my second law option; the wig-wearing kind known as the barrister. I think it would be fun to be a barrister. However, I think I'll need to restrain myself from placing random facts in the case just to make it sound less boring. Cos, until I turn 50 odd, cases will probably be boring, draining and mind-numbing. My brain gets numbed by my regular headaches enough every week, month, whatever. I don't need more mind-numbing exercises.

I have thought of applying to teach English in Japan next year and have so far looked at several websites for this. Prospects are looking good; I get paid, lodging, travel etc etc but one or two tiny details makes me think, "Uegh??" Working on Sundays for one. 37 lessons in 5 days the other. I think given the Japanese etiquette of working, I could be working from 6am til 11pm.
I like the fast-paced life but I think there're people out there who forget that there're other people out there who can't run as fast. I'm a sprinter. If you want me to go long-distance, get me an MPV (multi purpose vehicle) then I'll show you how to step up the gas.

So yes, basically I am unemployed - whoopee! I never thought that saying that would sound so uplifting. I used to think that the day I said that my butt would be down in the dumps and I'd be a mopey wreck but I'm not :) I'm quite liking this almost-hippie situation I'm in. So I live in a house instead of the park and don't play the bongos but when I move to Mongolia, remind me to get dreadlocks.