Monday, June 30, 2008

Meme! Meme! Meme!

I like memes because the time I take doing this equals not having to study. I got this from why? yarn. He didn't tag me. I volunteered. The things we do...

Starting time: 3.22pm (+8 GMT)
Name: debibo
Sisters: 1
Brothers: 1
Shoe size: 3 1/2 - yes I can wear children shoes
Height: 4'10" and if I were in the UK aged 12, I would have to sit in a child safety seat, the humiliation...
Where do you live? In my subconscious
Favourite drinks: At this point in time, iced coffee.
Favourite breakfast: All English/ American breakfast, deep fried with extra hash browns!
Have you ever been on a plane? Inside a plane yes. On a plane, no.
Swam in the ocean? Yes.
Fallen asleep at school? Many times. Maths is boring.
Broken someone’s heart? Wouldn't know.
Fell off your chair? I don't remember. Might have done.
Sat by the phone all night waiting for someone to call? Yes!!!
Saved e-mails? Sometimes.
What is your room like? I redecorated it with some polysterine board and a lot of red paint.
What is right beside you? A chair.
What is the last thing you ate? Chicken rice, Malay style.
Ever had chicken pox? Yes, in kindergarten.
Sore throat? Several times a year.
Stitches? Only in my mouth when I had a wisdom tooth out, otherwise.. NO (and I'm proud of it)! I didn't even get stitches when I sliced the top bit of my finger off in Form 2 whilst doing a project or when I cut my knuckle to the bone on a cornbeef tin during my uni years *beams*.
Broken nose? It's too small to get broken.
Do you believe in love at first sight? That's how I got 2 cats and 2 dogs.
Like picnics? Very much so. I'll even picnic in winter, freezing my butt off in the park.
Who was the last person...
You danced with? In Zouk with Meng Yew. Or was it Kevin?
Who last made you smile? Probably Dom or Karen during lunch.
You last yelled at? Myself this morning. "Wake up Deborah! Wake up! Waaaakee uuuupp!!!!!"

Today, did you:
Talk to someone you like?
I talked to God. I like God. Yes.
Kissed anyone? I've just kissed myself. Yes :)
Get sick? Not yet.
Talk to an ex? Talked about an "ex"...
Miss someone? Yes. Ouch. Hurts everytime.
Eat? Too much.

Best feeling in the world: Riding horseback across the Mongolian countryside.
Do you sleep with stuffed animals? No.
What’s under your bed? The floor.
Who do you really hate? Anyone who talks, insinuates, implies bad stuff about my family.
What time is it now? 3.36pm (+8 GMT)

Is there a person who is on your mind now?
Do you want children? Funny you ask. I was thinking of adopting 3 yesterday. 2 boys and a girl. And I'd want adopt from Cambodia, Nepal and Mongolia in the future.
Do you smile often? As often as I scowl.
Do you like your handwriting? Yes but I don't think my examiners do.
Are your toe nails painted? No.
Whose bed other than yours would you rather sleep in? Elena's bed is very comfortable...
What colour shirt are you wearing now? T-shirt! T-shirt! Blue.
What were you doing at 7pm yesterday? In church playing charades.
I can’t wait till…: I go riding in Mongolia again.
When did you cry last? About an hour ago. Ok it wasn't all out crying. A little teary eyed maybe.
Are you a friendly person? Too friendly.
Do you have any pets? Not at the mo. But I want at least 2 dogs at some point in the future and consecutively, one dog to share between every 2 subsequent offspring.
Where is the person you have feelings for right now? On earth.
Did the last person you held hands with mean anything to you now? Yes. She's my study buddy. We were experimenting whether one could read into the dynamics of any one relationship through analysing hand-holding :)

Do you sleep with the TV on? Rarely. It must be something really boring. Like golf.
What are you doing right now? Not rushing to relieve my bladder :) Well, you asked!
Have you ever crawled through a window? Yes.
Can you handle the truth? Yes. But I don't have to handle it well.
Are you too forgiving? Gullible maybe, forgiving, no.
Are you closer to your mother or father? They're both within the same general distance away from me.
Who was the last person you cried in front of? Artificial intelligence. That's what they call computers now-a-days right?
How many people can you say you’ve really loved? *Wrinkles nose* I have a lot of friends. I love my friends.
Do you eat healthy? Healthily you mean. No. Hence the expanding waistline but then look at cows. They eat healthily yet they get bigger every day!
Do you still have pictures of you and your ex? My "ex." Yes. I would throw them away but I like the picture composition.
Have you ever cried because of something someone said to you? Yes.
If you’re having a bad day, who are you most likely to go to? Elena, Tyng Yng, Carly, Victoria and Sarah, to name a few.
Are you loud or quiet most of the time? In the library, one has to be quiet.
Are you confident? Yeah.

5 things I did 10 years ago:
1. Shaved my hair with my dad's razor.
2. Had a surprise birthday party.
3. Dreamt of horse riding.
4. Went to Australia to do horse riding.
5. Met why? yarn.

5 things on my to-do list today:
1. Study as much Civil law as possible.
2. Empty my bladder.
3. Eat my chocolate.
4. Eat birthday dinner with Tyng Yng in Italian restaurant.
5. Recharge my mp4.

5 snacks I enjoy:
1. Apam balik
2. Farley's Rusk
3. Chocolate
4. Cheezels
5. Raw instant noodles

5 things I would do if I were a billionaire:
1. Pay off debts and buy property for my parents
2. Live in Mongolia and own horses
3. Send my brother to uni
4. Invest
5. Set up a foundation for impoverished women in African countries;
(a) to teach them skills they can make profit from such as baking, sewing and making pottery
(b) to provide capital for small businesses so they have an outlet in which to use their skills
(c) to set up links with organisations that will buy the fair trade products/ souvenirs
(d) to set up and sustain a crop and irrigation system to share amongst villages so that they can plant their own vegetables for themselves and to sell excess
(e) to condemn genital mutilation

5 of my bad habits:
1. Eating too much
2. Fidgeting
3. Jumping to (wrong) conclusions
4. Scratching scabs
5. Rolling my eyes

5 places I have lived in:
1. Kuching, Sarawak, Malaysia
2. Bayswater, London
3. Waterloo, London
4. Oval, London
5. Petaling Jaya, Selangor, Malaysia

5 jobs I’ve had:
1. Reading mother/ babysitter
2. Legal manager, London
3. Student support, KCLSU
4. 2 attachments at 2 law firms
5. Professional Support Lawyer

Sunday, June 29, 2008

Sayonara Chris

Chris waiting for the sunrise on Mount Kinabalu, Sabah, Malaysia

Today will be the last day I get to see Chris (for another 80 years max - I don't think I'll live past a hundred and four). Chris, I know you read my blog and the people who matter know what you've done for "Alice Smith," SMACC and Jesus these past 2 years. I'll miss you. I already miss Gordon. I still miss Mark. Remember the stegasaurus.

Friday, June 27, 2008

Honey, I...

Winnie the Pooh: Does my bum look big in this?

Photo from: here; quotation for the purpose of comic effect, my own.

There are some days when guys don't understand girls, girls don't understand other girls and girls don't understand themselves. Such a time becomes obvious when hypothetical girl rings friend to discuss what to wear to interview the next day whilst bemoaning the fact that she has nothing to wear because happy eating hours have decidedly prospered her middle causing her to resemble a very comfortable bean bag. As aforementioned friend tries to calm girl down, girl throws the clincher as she wails, "But Winnie-the-Pooh is NOT sexy!!!"

Wednesday, June 25, 2008

Some days - Pt II

Karen and I were bumming (with Dom and Josephine too) and came up with... go to her blog to find out.

Tuesday, June 24, 2008

Beauty and purity

From the Star today, I got an irksome advertisement and a quote from Pope Benedict, both of which made me roll my eyes and distracted me from studying today.

Annoying, perpetual advert first.

"Beautiful is young"

That was the caption that the whole advertisement embodied. We can make 50-year old women look 43! Whoop dee do. I don't want my nice and comfortable grandmother or my other frail and crinkly grandmother looking like they've gone through a bleaching session with amplified botox and scarily drawn eyebrows or dyed hair, thank you very much. I think if anything old is beautiful, especially if you've been learning life's lessons along the way. I am 24 and I think my 51-year old mum looks better than I do.

I think gimmicks like these capture a lot of women (and men)'s attention because they think love is beauty and beauty is being young. What I look forward to, is not forever young, it's forever you. Ok, corny. Moving on.

I don't know if what Pope Benedict said was taken out of context but it made me slightly peeved. He (supposedly) said, "Communion is only for the pure of heart... and for those... free of major sins... searching through the sacrament of forgiveness, the purity that sin has stained."

Given reasons and sentiments in my Communion blog entry a week ago, I disagree.

If communion is only for the pure of heart, I'll never be able to share in communion.

If communion is for those free of major sins, I'll never be free to take communion. (I understand that Catholics have a different idea in major and minor sins but I think all sins are essentially rebellion against God which is the biggest sin of all).

The only sacrament of forgiveness in my books in Jesus hanging on that cross on Golgatha. Even if I lived in a land where I could never take communion (for whatever reason), I would not have failed to 'search through the sacrament of forgiveness' just because I failed to take communion.

We are not just searching for purity for even if we found it, what will we do with it? We would only ever destroy it completely because that's just who we are. Searching is insufficient. Finding is insufficient. Only being made pure is sufficient and we cannot do that on our own. Only the Holy Spirit transforms, only the blood of Jesus washes us clean. Nothing I can do will ever wash away my stain. Not even Communion.

Now, I'm off to see friends and have dessert. Brain-wise today has been mildly productive (until I complete a round of Sudoku, I can never claim to have satisfied the mathematical quota my brain really requires but that I deny to it). Study-wise, I really need to do better.

Monday, June 23, 2008

Some days...

Oh Goody

Someone just told me over lunch that he can tell if people are gay or if they have a boyfriend/girlfriend (clearly, said guy hasn't met Matthew). Anyway, I like a challenge, so asked him whether he thought I had a boyfriend. I gave my best "I-have-a-boyfriend look" and what did ya know, he said yes. Wrong deduction but it proves that a bit of acting can make or break impressions.

Said guy also said that people who are married are more mature and do not use phrases like, "Oh goody." I know many unmarried mature people and just to upset the balance and prove a point, if I do get married, I will make it a point to say, "Oh goody" in his presence. Having said that, my friend Hoong Wai thought I was overeacting when, upon seeing dinner served one day, I rubbed my hands together and said, "Oh yummy."

Saturday, June 21, 2008

The things men say

Some of the things said by lawyers these days are just unbelievably stupid! The people who say them just happen to be male so this aint no dig at the Y chromosome; just the stupid ones. People bearing the XX chromosome set are not an exception either.

Read in 2 articles in the newspaper yesterday:

First article: About rape
Situation: Father rapes daughter
Verdict: Guilty
Here's the conker...

Mitigation (which means any excuses you can give to lessen the amount of punishment the judge will give you for being a d***):

The lawyer for the man who raped his daughter had the balls and gall to say this:
"My client used a condom so he should be given a lesser punishment."

Of all the stupid things to say!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! That lawyer deserves several expletives.

Thank goodness the judge redeemed my hope in the justice system when he peered down - ok, I'm just imagining him peering down, hopefully disdainfully and with utter contempt through moon spectacles - and said something along the lines of, "So it's ok to rape if you use a condom?"

Thank you Mr. Judge.

Second article: Also about rape
Situation: Neighbour rapes girl-next-door (a minor) and she is now 7 months pregnant

Lawyer says: We have to find out who fathered the child.

Ok, not as ridiculous as the first lawyer but it reflects the ingenious stupidity (for want of a better word) people would rely on to get out of a scrape.

Saying, "My dog ate my homework," in these circumstances is more probable.

Having said that, I hope I NEVER come across these people in Court because I would either just stare at them, realising that there are people in this world who are as thick as my patience is thin, or I would jump across the table and start tearing their hair out and kicking them in my sharply pointed shoes, which will make me liable for contempt of court.

Friday, June 20, 2008

Made of Honour - really?

Went to watch McDreamy at the movies last night.

For those who don't know what the movie is about, there's this guy and this girl (it's a chick flick) and they're best friends (recipe for disaster right?) and then she goes off to Scotland, finds an incredibly flawless Scottish bloke, gets engaged and asks her friend Tom (McDreamy aka Dempsey) to be her maid of honour. As usual, it's when he discovers he's about to lose her when he think he wants her (so what's new?). And... SPOILER ahead... he wins her back in the end. Where else? At the altar when she's about to marry the other guy. Made of honour? I don't know.

To the audience Tom and Hannah (the girl) are perfect for one another; they go vintage shopping together, he gets her coffee (knowing exactly what type of Starbucks the other person wants - cinnamon, whipped cream, semi-skimmed, 70% etc - seems to be the epitome of friendship these days), they share cake and she is his date at his dad's repeated weddings (because other girls would get the wrong picture if he invited them to a 'family' event). She orders all the steamed dim sum instead of the good fried stuff (which to me is unbelievable) but hey, he likes her for that anyway.

Honour. For the European it would be pistols at dawn, to the cowboy, a stand-off with balls of hay randomly rolling across the scene, to Greek king Menelaus, it was launching 10,000 Greek ships to get Helen back from troy and to the Chinese, well, probably something to do with kung fu.

As I watched the film, 2 trains of thought began to form. Tom was obviously suppose to act with honour but what was the honourable thing for him to do? To step aside and let her marry Colin (Scottish duke with 4 castles who goes hunting and horse riding in the rain) or to barge in on the wedding and get a beefy punch in the face for doing so? As much as I knew that he and Hannah would end up together, I was hoping and hoping that he would do the honourable thing and give her away. Why?

It's hard to fall in love. Harder still to let go. That Hannah had feelings for Tom was apparent to everyone but Tom. That she finally managed let him go, he should have done the honourable thing and stood aside. Isn't that honour? To do something you don't want to do because it's better for the other person; that's honourable. Clearly the movie was hinging on self-honour rather than a gentleman's honour. I felt like shouting, "You've had your chance dude! You've messed things up for yourself, why go mess her heart up too?"

Unless she never let him go. But still.

Thursday, June 19, 2008

All's well...

I forgot to buy chocolate after lunch and have bits of yong tau fu stuck between my molars :(

AND this Paintiff (yes, PAINtiff) also prays for:

a) Clothes - I'm running out of clothes to wear
b) A prohibitory order to stop bad chocolate being made in the world
c) General damages
d) Costs
e) Interest
f) Such further and other relief that this Honourable blog deems fit and proper to grant

Was going to blog about something today but a quick look at previous blog entries mean that it's high time I wrote something fickle else this will just end up some monotonous, depressing rant on how awful the state of the world is.

Hopefully Made for Honour will make it better tonight. I don't 'dig' Dempsey but sometimes a chick flick with a king sized chocolate bar and a dark carbonated beverage is the best pick-me-up a girl can get. That, and stocks and bonds in bluechip industries and oil... and gold cos it doesn't depreciate.

P/s Some woman made me annoyed this morning. We were about to cross the same street when a taxi zoomed round the corner. As it was his right of way, it didn't matter to me but this lau ah poh was about to launch into a tirade about crazy drivers who didn't respect the elderly to the person standing next to her only, she realised that the person standing next to her, yours truly, did not seem to care. I mean, you may be old, but that's no reason for the world to heed your every whim and that includes not having to stop when it's their right of way (unless you're senile enough to walk straight into an oncoming lorry, in which case, they'll probably stop).

Monday, June 16, 2008


Even if one is not in an 'exclusive' relationship per se, one will find that there are enough platonic relationships around that need to be sustained, without having to worry whether we will get the chance to worry about whatever it is people worry about when they're in an exclusive relationship.

My relationship with my parents is constant and constantly changing. Where previously I would not have a qualm about asking dad to top-up my phone, now I'd rather go without if I cannot afford it, than to ask him for more. I give more in other ways, but I also give by not taking.

I think about my mum and wonder if I should ask her about menopause. I wrinkle up my nose as I think about this.

I think of my brother and sister and wonder what's going through their minds and especially for my brother, if I should start treating him as a man or as a child; in many ways he will never stop being my little brother.

I think of my girl-friends and think that we have more in common than we care to admit. Most of us have had our hearts broken at some point.

I think of my guy-friends and try to understand why they are who they are. Half the things they say don't filter through because it's blocked by my defences going, "How can you say that??!!??" but I'm learning. Breathe easy. A guy-friend of mine once told me, "We (guys) are all red-blooded, Debs." He might have been struggling with some internal turmoil but I was grinning cos it sounded like something out of a Barbara Cartland novel. Silly response but I'm learning.

Then there are those who could have been closer but whom you wish you never knew. What do I do about them?

There are those whose mere name brings a smirk to my lips and an arch to my brows; people who I think are a waste of time and space. People I can't be bothered with. People whom I have lost respect for. What can I do? I can try to be nice. But until I am nice, all I can do is try. And how can I reconcile that side of me to the side that really cares?

We had communion yesterday in church and I was thinking about all these issues and as the dish and cup went round I wondered, "Can I take communion? Should I take communion? What happens if I sit at God's feet and say, "I like my sin." Is that even possible?" The Bible says if you want to sacrifice to God and you have issues with your brother or sister in Christ, you should go sort out these issues first. I thought of platonic relationships, not so platonic relationships, relationships that seemed to be gone forever only to be restored, relationships I thought would be forever, only to be soured.

The bread came round. I mean embossed waffles. I hesitated a split second. I felt condemned if I took it and condemned if I didn't. I dipped my waffle into the wine and watched the crimson soak in. In Cross-Examined, Meynell says that whilst blood is deemed unclean in the Old Testament and yet God took what was unclean and made it clean and not just clean, He made it perfect, in Christ; the blood of Christ doesn't stain us with guilt, it washes, it sanctifies, it purifies. To be completely soaked in blood in the Old Testament would have been horrible - I don't know how many days the person would be deemed unclean and made to live outside camp - but the blood of Christ works to bring the opposite. People who have been soaked in the blood of Christ are inside the camp, not outside. I ate the crimson-stained, embossed waffle.

I am condemned. That is why I need Salvation. I have Salvation. As much as I should be condemned, I have confidence that I am saved. You want to know what fear of God is? It is not merely being afraid He will turn your city upside down and take all your loved ones from you. it is not thinking He'll punish you for X,Y Z that you did and shouldn't have done. It is looking ahead to judgment and knowing that He will save you even though you stand condemned. And how will He do this? Through the blood of Jesus Christ.

My struggle is real. Heck this is what it is to be Christian. If you told me Christians had no struggles, I will scoff at your understanding or pity your reasoned foolishness. Tell me you're not sure, tell me you'll consider, but don't tell me Christians have no struggles.

Saturday, June 14, 2008


I think it will be obvious from various posts throughout this blog that I think my dad is pretty awesome. I think it's also ostensible that my Heavenly Father is beyond incredible. 10 minutes ago, I realized with slight shock, that the friends I consider closest to me are have all gone through the pain of losing their respective fathers through various illnesses. I can list all the amazing things you've done for me and sacrifices you've made that make me cherish our friendship (C.S Lewis says that real friends don't live on praise but he didn't say anything about me not praising you :p) but they wouldn't suffice even if I took out a whole page in The London Telegraph or Guardian or News Strait Times or Star or Metro or Malay Mail.

Without naming names, I am thinking of you all this Father's Day (not that I don't think of you often). Your fathers were blessed to have you as am I.

Friday, June 13, 2008

Happy Birthday, Murphy!

Dear Murph,

Happy 59th birthday, gorgeous! One more year and you'll reach the grand six-o. Isn't that just darling? I have not had anything special yet to commemorate our 24 years together but perhaps we could go out for dinner later and you could shower me with your Midas touch. After all, it's your fault I'm down to my last 25 cents. The train was a little slow today so I know you're not completely out of touch with the world. Remember 'those days' in Oxford during the war (also known as entrance exams)? You outshone everyone there and that you were obviously mine has immortalised the memory of our relationship in the minds of many people I subsequently met in London. In fact, they often ask how you are and we swap stories. I secretly think you have won far more brownie points than Iona's fat, A-list superstar or Jane's professional, babbling, ity choice of a gnome.

I adore that you are faithful. I admit it gives me a reason to boast albeit shamefacedly; but there are seasons when you are truly doggone faithful and I wish you would go find a starlet somewhere and 'help' her with the same amount of zeal you do me. There are days when I wish that you would go lavish your allure and attention on someone else. I have to say you can oftentime be clingy. It's ok to let go, you know? But then when you do, I run after that strong and silent German. I nearly died the day you taught him that lesson he'll never forget. I was almost hysterical we'd get caught and then it would be the end of everything decent and civil in our world. I know never to judge you by your exterior again. You're all Murphy. The other day the rain poured. Thankfully I was not in the middle of Timbuktu, wearing my suede shoes, without an umbrella in sight but if that ever happened, I'll know that you love me to the ends of the earth a.k.a Timbuktu.

Darling, here's to 24 years and lest your memory fail you, today is Friday, the 13th.

Forget the lame jokes about men getting old and losing their appeal. For someone who digs David Caruso, Dustin Hoffman and Harrison Ford, you're still a spring chicken and I know that sometime today, as I fall on a banana peel left behind, you'll be right there beside me.

All my love,

P/s I have always wondered my dear, where were you when I pushed Sean in front of that bus? Accidentally, of course.

To get more info about Murphy, go here.

If you have no idea what I have just been blogging about, you must be a fatalist or wait, I mean fat, A-list. Minus the superstar. Or maybe you're just a (pro)fessional, (babl)-ing, (ity) gnome.

Thursday, June 12, 2008

Meme :)

I got this from here whilst meme scouting cos I wanted to relieve my brain from disciplinary proceedings by the Bar Council.

I tag:
  • Anusia - do you have a blog?
  • Tyng Yng
  • Karen Chong
  • BKing - No, not BB King
  • Why? Yarn
  • Steph Yeo
  • Squid
(7 is a perfect number)

Don't think so; there's a Deborah who's a judge and a Deborah who's a nurse in the Bible. Go figure which one I'll turn out to be.

Can't remember. Maybe 2 weeks ago.

Yes, because it's illegible but it causes me problems during exams.

The pork variety. Luncheon chicken doesn't count!!

No, not even a dog :(

I don't know. I would need to be very patient... which means all my friends are very patient :)

No, I never use sarcasm.

I think so.

No, but I would want to sky dive at some point.

Post Original!

No. I knot them in such a way so that I don't have to.

Umm.... maybe when I'm stressed I realize I possess strength I didn't have :p

Half Baked; Ben & Jerry's. It is a mixture of all my favourite ice cream; Cookie Dough, Brownies, Phish Food, Fudge etc etc.


Women: Whether she has an irritating voice.
Men: Whether he is trying too hard.


Temper, temper.

At this point in time I miss Elena muchly because she would buy gingerbread men when I was having a bad day and would come home beaming, saying,"I got you a man."

Not applicable. Am wearing skirt and flip flops.

Fried chicken.

The air conditioner.

The multi-coloured one.

The aftermath of rain, cut grass, petrol, matches, lavender, oranges, lilies-of-the-valley, horses!!

Karen. Last night. I called about 'homework.'

Equestrian events, Crufts (dog show), gymnastics, football, cricket.


Black/ very dark brown

No but I should.

Category is too wide but last night I was craving freshly baked walnut bread with rosemary tinged vinaigrette and stuffed olives with feta and salami.

Happy endings. I don't do scary movies.

Cliffhanger; last night on TV.

Black TEE-shirt.


Hugs. But if you're gonna hug me, give me a proper bear hug, not one of those half-hearted ones with a world of space between us.

Anything chocolate, lemon custard pie, anything with gooey meringue, anything with chestnut cream.

Besides all the law stuff for exams and the Bible, The Pig That Wants To Be Eaten.

No mousepad.

See Q.30.

Rain falling, horses neighing, farmyard sounds, trucks in the distance, wind blowing through buildings or grass, the air-conditioner.

We all live in a yellow submarine...

Japan. Cos home is both UK and Malaysia.

When I flex my right thumb, my left thumb and left index finger involuntarily flex too. I call it a crossed nerve somewhere. Lynn calls it a freakshow to be displayed to every newbie who joins us for dinner. Yes, I am a freak.

Tuesday, June 10, 2008


Another day, another migraine.

The last time I had an unbearable migraine I had to take leave from work. Today, though I was physically in the library, my mind was in some dark, air conditioned cave, void of sound, movement or light and void of smell save the lingering calmness of hong iu :) The valley of the shadow of bottle-smashing-on-your-head; I peregrinate through it often enough.

I ended up sleeping on my notes, my head wrapped in a woollen hood, trying to avoid the glare of light but even the short rest did not come easy as I struggled to remember everything that I have learnt in the last month whilst I slept, attempting to hold them all in regardless of the supposed holes I have in my cranium and wondering whether the stuff I was trying to hold in was worth anything come crunch-time; perhaps I have learned complete trivia which will prove useless in the exam. Whenever I get headaches I also eat twice as much as I usually do; as long as the muscles in my esophagus are traveling one way, they will be unlikely to travel the other way and no, I do not want to see remnants of yesterday's dinner. The result of overstuffing as we all know is bloatedness. But honestly, I'd rather be bloated than cling to the toilet bowl like it were a lifesaver.

I miss the days where mum or dad would willingly answer my desperate knocks on their door be it at 11pm or 4am to find a small bundle crouched and leaning against the doorpost complaining of headaches or joint cramps for the umpteenth time in a week. And then the nutmeg oil or athlete's rub would be taken out and for the next half hour I would try go to sleep as they rubbed the oil into my limbs or head. These days I have to do it myself. There were days when I felt guilty because I knew my parents had had a long day and needed rest and other days when out of guilt I didn't seek them out even though the pain was so severe it became an effort to breathe. I would try fall asleep but in a restless frenzy, would be dreaming that I was holding a bottle of vapour rub, looking for mum to rub it into my legs.

As Father's Day approach once again and the longer I find myself living at closer proximity to my parents than during my uni days, as much as I want to give myself the opportunity to further my adventures abroad, I find myself remembering the sacrifices my parents have made for me and in that I feel as though I am being drawn home. Part of me thinks I'll be able to do so much more for them if I get my legs on better financial grounding ie overseas but will that be enough when all they want is for me to be home?

I have a migraine and as dad sometimes puts it when there's nothing left to say, "It means your brain is working."

Monday, June 09, 2008

Morbid XP

Last night I dreamt that my intended was a dashing figure in blue... only, he happened to be a Nutcracker sugar figurine, we lived on top of a multiple tiered cake, layered with pink and yellow icing and he was about to be eaten!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Friday, June 06, 2008


I was tagged by Steph to do this meme and am meant to tag 8 others but the people I know who might do this sort of thing probably already have and the people who don't wouldn't do it even if I tagged them so I'll let this stay where it falls.

1. Do you have sugar rush like I do?
Always on a sugar rush except when I'm not on a sugar rush.

2. How many hours did you sleep the night before you fill in this tag?
Not enough to recover from the nightmare I had that Ashton Kutcher was my uncle, I was about to estrange him from the family and my grandfather's basis for supporting Ashton and Demi's marriage was because the old man had a wife in every constituency.

3. What's your favorite thing to do?
Horse riding and walking in the rain.

4. Do you think money can buy happiness?
Happiness is Cadburys.

5. If you can have 1 dream to come true, what would it be?
To not need my dreams coming true.

6. Do you believe you can survive without money?
If I plant potatoes and never leave the house, yes.

7. What are you afraid to lose the most?
My soul.

8. If you win $1 million, what would you do?
Pay off debts and invest.

9. If you meet someone that you love, would you confess to him/her?
Been there, done that.

10. List out 3 good points of the persons who tagged you -
She's smart, pretty and didn't break my neck when I accidentally broke her favouraite 'tick-tack' pencil in Form 1.

11. What are the requirements that you wish from the other half?
That's another meme in itself.

12. What type of person do you hate the most?
I dislike hypocrites.

13. What is your ambition?
To pass the CLP.

14. If you can teleport once, where would you go?
To where the questions and marking scheme for this year's CLP exam is.

15. What dramatic event(s) that you have ever encountered in your life?
If I told you, I would have to relive the trauma.

16. If you could undo doing one mistake in the past, what would it be?
I would have listened to my mother when she said, "Drink more milk. It'll make you grow taller."

17. If you have a chance, which part of your character would you like to change?
The angry part.

18. What music have you been listening to recently?
Scissor Sisters, Matchbox 20, The Carpenters.

19. What is your least favourite animal?
Snakes but trying to get over it.

20. If one day you couldn't do the things that you are used to doing now anymore, how would you feel?
I'll go live in a cave.

After dinner thoughts: CLP-ians read the last 3 paragraphs

Why do I beat myself up over things I cannot control and do not change the things which I can and should? Ah, the great irony of life; we want to change everything except the things within our ability to change. We are dissatisfied with what we have but what we do not have is what we may never have and quite reasonably, should not hope to have, although it is possible that it may yet be attained. Then again, humans are hardly creatures of reason.

Hope is a dangerous thing. It mocks plans of hypothetical betterment in which hope has no part and subjects the mind to a maelstrom of false and insincere manifestations that baffle logic and hinders wisdom. Yet even if we were to diminish hope to an insignificant part of human emotion, the question has to be asked, what is the hope of giving up hope? Then we find ourselves back at square one. Disguising hope with any another word to eradicate its forceful presence in our lives would be a hopeless ordeal of rearranging the history of language, satiating post-modernism and considering political correctness. We find at the end of the day, as we run circles around hope, not quite daring to reach out for it, yet always sneaking glances in its direction, that the reason hope seems so deliciously inviting yet distant and harsh in its treatment of those of worship it is solely because we are running in the wrong direction. Instead of running to hope, we run round and round, side-stepping it as though it were an enemy yet not wanting to leave its irresistible glow.

The permutations of the mind are puzzling in its complexities but if one should stop to search the manifold layers that surround our love-hate relationship of hope, we will find that the enticement of hope or actually, the reason we fan hope to keep its embers glowing, lies within ourselves. Man is a creature of much pride.

It is pride that keeps us from admitting that we are without hope and pride that compels us to move... in the wrong direction. Let me take an example of a situation I find myself in, currently consuming my every waking hour and often my sleeping ones. If I truly and utterly believe and am convinced that there is no hope in my passing this exam a.k.a the CLP, why then do my actions not follow suit? If I believe it to be an unworthy chase or worse still, futile, why risk the physical strain and mental compulsion to ready myself for a task I am convinced I will ultimately fail at?

Admitting we are without hope and hoping we are not without hope are so interchangeable in their everyday uses that we call each by the other's name. If I were to believe with every iota in my body that there will be no point taking the exam, I will stop here and now. But, if I were to sit for the exam, regardless of all the, "Woe is me," sentiments uttered, the action of sitting for it betrays myself and unveils my lies that, I am actually hopeful about passing this exam, that I do not believe all is actually lost. That is, unless my intentions are to fail so spectacularly that the CLP will never have to be undertaken by any sentient being in any point in the future.

So I study. And I labour. I go to institutions which promise to go where no man has ever gone before and delve into my cankerous brain to unlock the secrets of memorizing case names and better still, retaining them for a sufficient length of time; approximately 1.47th of a second after the last paper is done.

In the end, everything appears to bear the hazy sheen of smoke. When the flickering of an erratic fluorescent light reminds you of a nagging migraine, aching neck muscles and nausea you have been feeling since the day before yesterday, all one can do, is get on bended knee(s) and grasping fistfuls of feathered, grey carpet with both hands cry, "Oh LORD, what IS ultra vires??!!??" and hope that no one in the library will think too much or too little of you for doing so.


For the first time since embarking on this crazy idea that I could complete my 10 subject CLP course in 2 months and pass, I find myself hesitating, perched precariously over an imagined edge looking into a hole that isn't really there. It is true that it's only an exam. It's also true that the success of completing this paper will lead on to further ventures I have concocting in my head and the failure of which will leave me with "strike two" and too much time on my hands. It's not that I feel more confident this time round; the last time my extent of study was flipping round a few pages mumbling to myself in Starbucks half expectant that I would, for once, follow the majority, which in the 24-year history of the CLP means having to join the ranks of retakes. It's a wonder that I managed to pass any at all but it still was not enough of a pass to not do a resit. This time round, I actually want to pass which makes a slight difference in how much I think is enough and how much more pressure I feel obliged to take on, not to mention the 'economic crisis' of increased rice and oil prices. We could soon be a nation living on yams and jungle fern, making it a vegetarians' paradise.

On one hand, I am appreciating taking time off work and revelling albeit briefly, in student life again. On the other, I know that I cannot afford the luxuries of being a student; this exam is no longer about my prowess, if any, as a student. It represents much more. Perhaps that's why I find myself hesitating.

Tuesday, June 03, 2008

Rain, rain..

I like the rain and I like walking in the rain. But not when I'm sick and not when I'm down to my last pair of jeans until next week. So stuck in front of the computer at college, I started to browse my past posts. I do not know whether it is narcissistic to say that I find myself extremely amusing.

An extract from a post entitled: Man Flu, Bird Flu reads as such.

"Chilvary is dead!" women around the world cry. But it is not that the knights have disappeared but that the damsels have ignored their call of,

"Rapunzel, let down your hair!"

and have built for themselves escalators to go down the tower on their own. And then, reaching the bottom, they scowl at their knights (in shining armour) and ask,

"Why didn't you rescue me?"

2 cents

I don't usually jump on the band wagon when it comes to political issues or current affairs. I suppose I would like to be more 'in there' with the crowd that is aware of rising oil prices and a changing education system but I'm more like one of those sitting around the periphery, nodding or shaking my head, without really engaging. Perhaps it comes from a personal history of being apolitical or an even more personal characteristic of detaching myself from situations which could cause an unbalance of my equilibrium.

Yesterday I (finally) noticed that news isn't what it used to be. It used to be that so-and-so was raped along Jalan (road) this-or-that by another so-and-so and the police are now making inquiries into the matter or such-and-such an issue will be getting discussed by MPs (which, if you read between the lines, usually means haven't been discussed yet and will probably never get discussed because the use of "will be" doesn't necessarily mean come to pass or inevitably anymore). These days the crimes are related in more graphic terms; certainly from my point of view. Besides the brought up issues of school uniforms (which is another story in itself), oil prices and blocked (and then unblocked) access roads, where the police got to shine as heroes ala some western movie where the sheriff is actually is good guy (as it should be), I read a piece of news yesterday which made me want to round up all the people I care about and keep them in some MI5 guarded safehouse with genetically modified dogs for extra protection. Before you launch a tirade on genetically modified dogs, think of the bull terrier or even the adorable poodle. They are all, to a certain extent, genetically segregated and modified.

Anyway, back to the issue: This was published in yesterday's Star.

It made me feel a rush of various emotions altogether. Firstly, I hope that anyone I know with money problems will never ever, ever, go to loan sharks. Secondly, whatever your problems are, if you need someone to talk to or you need somewhere to go to just chill, please, please come see me. I don't live in a grand place (understatement) although maybe it's half decent if you're willing to sleep on the floor (cos that's where I sleep anyway). Sometimes money problems seem bigger than they are if you don't have someone to share the burden with, and I don't just mean financially. I can't solve a RM100k debt for you but I can buy you lunch (and dinner) and give you toothpaste.

Secondly, the way those loan sharks treated the woman just stirs up all sorts of nasties that people just don't want to know. In light of recent events, Malaysia has seemingly become more educated in the way we handle our rights, politicians and welfare of our country. But what is the point of having information without acting on it where it counts? The government may change but do you know if your neighbour is struggling with marital problems? The oil price may shoot up sky-high until we all have to revert to bicycles but before all that, do you consider your friend who is about to put a gun to his head? I don't care about my rights if I can't care about yours.

There are so many points of view to the rising social problems we see and I can feel my heart race even as I think of the overwhelming crisis which is the human heart and at its soul, not just degradation, destruction, immorality and a penetrating inhumane nature which betrays our role as humans, but death; the sting and stink of death. On one hand, these social ills have always been around just that we were either unaware of them in our ignorance or unbelief or we simply minded our own business hoping the same would not happen to us. Having then been freed from ignorance, how can we take one look around and crawl back under the coconut shell, burrow or wherever we first came from without wanting to make an impact or to at least desire for a better world?

The better world part is guaranteed not to happen anyway until Jesus returns (thinks the Christian) or until the world gets eaten by some giant black hole from some other galaxy because our sun will never create enough force to become a black hole (thinks the atheist physicist). So why bother? If man can shake his fist at the face of God and say, "I am able," why can we not, even if you're not a Christian, take that stance and say, "I am able" instead of cowering hopefully behind police who (we hope) will uphold the law or authorities (who we hope) will possess integrity or political bloggers who are willing to go to jail for their convictions? I say 'we' because I myself am included. I think of all the 'wonderful' things I want to do for society but the second I'm faced with a simple drawback, I flee in my mind before the battle has even begun and pathetically lick wounds which don't even exist. Fear is like a roaring lion and in the face of it, it's hard to see anything but that fear.

Freud would say human depravity all links to sex. There I've said it. I've mentioned the 's' word. I see the elderly open their mouths to rebuke, the youth blush and those who consider themselves experienced, snicker. Sometimes I think Asians hold themselves more honourable or morally correct than their Western counterparts. I only have this to say, at least our Western counterparts are not as hypocritical. Sex is still considered a taboo subject in Asia and yet behind closed doors, it runs rampant resulting in can I say it, more and more heinous crimes. It seems like it's no longer sufficient to rob a woman of her money, old, pregnant or otherwise. In fact, if you 'only' get robbed and you're female, people would more often that not say to you, "Thank goodness you didn't get raped." What is this world coming to??!! I am at my wit's end the more I think about how disgusting and bestial the human heart is. Truly the Bible is right when it talks of our souls as rotting corpses.

This article also prompted today's blog entry. I am actually frightened by the gravity of the situation which children, and children they are, find themselves in whether directly or indirectly. It makes me wonder how I can ever, bring a child into the world knowing what he or she will have to face, often on his own. It is again in fear, when I find myself doubting the power of the Holy Spirit yet at the same time, pleading with God to show me that he is enough to care for everyone I love.

Even as people know these crimes are taking place, few do anything about it. If only half the people in Malaysia who talk so candidly and openly about sex and porn, talk as boldly about the social injustice going on in our society, that in itself would be a deterrent to potential criminals. I wonder if the victim's friends in the aforementioned article came over to console her, to validate her, to love her. Or did they hide away in shame, with the excuse that they did not know what to say or worse still, not wanting to share in the shame as her friend. My heart breaks at the thought.

There. That's my 2 cents worth. Or 2 sen or francs or yen or pence, wherever you may be. Go love someone. Who are you to know that today, where it counts, you may be just what they need.