Under The Weather Post

Don’t feel so well today. Throat feels like an F grade sandpaper and the forehead’s blazing. Must have been all the sun from yesterday’s telematch and screeching during karaoke. Not even Downton Abbey or the multitude of unseen movies in my hard disc can tempt me. Somehow here I am typing this post. 

On the upside, it’s great to fall sick on the weekend as my parents can pamper me and I don’t have to tolerate shitty college cafe food. Yes I am just that ready for India.

Also, going for facial today makes me feel like a sadist. Already sick, but I dragged myself to accompany mom to the horrible torture chamber known to all as a beauty parlour. I can’t remember the last time I went for a facial, but all I can recall was how tear-jerkingly painful it was. Pain is beauty indeed. However, my face is anything but beautiful now as it’s all red and blotchy. Sobs.

My face was like a war zone as the beautician wrestled with my blackheads and zits and there I was squirming and wondering when will it be over. A lifetime later, she finally left me alone with the mask and I drift off into a victorious slumber.

 

It’s that time again, where I’ve decided to write a post. It’s usually because I have nothing better to do or I had a mini mind breakthrough. And for this post it’s the latter.

The past few weeks have been pretty eventful. Ups and downs at starkly contrasting magnitudes.

Here goes, for the latest mind revelation (drum roll): this too shall pass.

So much for the breakthrough. Heh.

Well in my defence, the phrase has decidedly become my mantra. Shit happens, you just gotta deal with it. Of course the phrase is unfortunately ambiguous so the same thing applies even if you are high as f***.

But then again, nothing a good book and my faithful iPod can’t cure. I have so much more to live for. Everyday is a blessing with the beyond awesome friends and family. And there are simple pleasures that make each day an adventure, but also regrettably involves blowing off some bucks. Who said money can’t buy happiness?

Allow me to demonstrate:

1. Feast like a king. As in order the food anyway even if the price will normally bring about a  heart attack but you thought, screw it and order it anyway.

2. Buying a book you’ve always wanted to read brings a certain satisfaction, even if you haven’t gotten around to read it yet.

3. This might seem trivial but going to the cinema and karaoke joint just bring such joy.

Things that keep me sane and contented AND do not involve the paper include blasting the music in the car at dangerous levels, screaming along together with my sister (so glad we share some of our musical preference), discovering the Lumineers, guitar and talking to my dog. Haha.

At the end of the day, it’s not so bad after all.

It’s gonna be alright. At least that’s what I tell myself for now.

Placement is out and after listening to the (multiple) shattering of this thing called the heart as they announced it, it’s been decided that I will be heading to Krishna Institute of Medical Sciences in Karad, Maharashtra.

Let’s look on the bright side first (which will be brief) It looks nice, the university. And it is also pretty cold there which is a great change from scorching Malaysian weather. So guys, no I won’t be tanned when I come back from curryland (the general assumption).

But it is also some sort of a nunnery because only girls are sent there. Yup, just my luck. It’s funny because just before the placement my friend asked what if we end up in the all girls place (read: are we gonna grow old alone and die as virgins as people told me if you don’t have a boyfriend by the time you graduate from med school, you’re doomed) and I told her we won’t be that unlucky. Well guess what, shit happens. To me. She got somewhere else but I’m glad she did.

It’s okay I can deal with the nunnery part but the worse part is that I am separated from most of my friends. Yes I knew this was coming, it’s inevitable but still, it doesn’t make it any less depressing to have it confirmed. To top it off my bff Michelle won’t be heading to India at all. In fact she might leave anytime now. Gonna be a bit dramatic but a part of me died a little inside.

But it is not just me. Save for an occasional jubilation for much too few, lot of hopes were dashed, hearts broken in the hall where the announcement took place.

Also, perhaps the most tragic part, it really doesn’t help to have my worst fear confirmed.

Bleeding only to see the gloom of the clouds ahead. Can you hear the steady dripping sound?

Today I was introduced to the concept of philistinism.
Decide if you want to be a philistine.
I don’t.

A train of thought hits you and hey, suddenly it’s crystal clear that a revelation that should have hit home a long time ago finally did. What amazes me is how it has eluded my supposed existence of a brain for this long of a period. I’ve allowed it to gnaw at my consciousness for what seemed an eternity and now if I may, I can safely say I’ve seen the light.

This is the light at the end of the tunnel I have been waiting for so long.

Enough of personal reflections. Allow me to describe (brag?) my current way of life which is just a wee bit busier than what is called sedentary in normal social standards. My typical day starts off with a jog and then a hearty and by hearty I mean high-calorie, potentially artery-blocking but very satisfying breakfast followed by a post-breakfast nap in a very contented state. Brilliant isn’t it?

It gets better, when I awake from my post-breakfast slumber, it will almost be lunch time and I find myself in a happy dilemma to decide what to eat for lunch. Since I’ve already jogged in the morning, burning a few hundred calories that have been reimbursed by the hearty breakfast (which is as good as I didn’t have anything for breakfast), I figure it’s totally unnecessary to perform the act of chewing on grass biscuits and other bland, tasteless healthy food like muesli or oats.

Then I’m at leisure to scheme on what to do for the rest of the day that tickles my fancy, a liberty I thank God each day.  Life is good. 🙂

The Semi-feminist Post

First and foremost I’m glad to say the so-called writer’s block has been unplugged and from now on I’ll try to write everyday. No promises though because you must understand, this is coming from a world-class procrastinator.

This post is triggered by the grostesque gang raping and mutilation of the 23 year old woman in India, but the following feminist (considered) notions have been in my mind for quite a while.

I’ve come across this phrase many times and I have to agree with it, we live in a society that teaches female counterparts to not get raped instead of teaching the men to not rape. I don’t know what went so wrong that the human civilization has degraded to such extent to condone it.

Yes, we live in Malaysia where eastern values are deemed to be followed, women should be dressed conservatively and such, but is it really right to point the finger in the direction of those that will be viewed as insurgents that come in the form skimpily dressed women when they get raped? Raping is a detestable, revolting act, a murder of the mind and there is no excuse for it regardless of what drove the devils in the rapist to commit it. So no matter how fine (or lack thereof) the spaghetti strap on the tank tops or how short the hemlines of mini skirts go, it doesn’t warrant rape.

Needless to say I was pretty jubilant to read about SultWalks sprouting all over the globe. Nothing more empowering to see women to take on the male chauvinist pigs, not to mention sexily while they are at it.

The politicians that make sexist remarks, some insinuating that the rape victims asked for it by the way that they dress or how the protesting women were slapping on make up by the throngs, just crying for your goddamn attentions in the so-called pink revolution, should really be burned at the stakes for their ignorance. There is little wonder how our society are plunging into regression when we are being lead by these incompetent, downright stupid supposed leaders. Truly a classic case of the blind leading the blind.

Look, I’m not a bra-burning feminist. I still want my man to open doors and pull out chairs for me but I certainly do not welcome my dressing to be dictated. Any attempts will only be greeted by extreme hostility as demonstrated by this post.

I think I’m having what they call a writer’s block.

There have been many drafts comprising of one or two miserable sentences for a new post and there they shall remain.

Them Books and Porridge

Whoa I can’t remember the last time I wrote anything here. Apologies to those that care to read this sad excuse of a blog. :p

Been busy with studies for it’s the final semester and the workload is sky high. I feel like I can never do enough. (Gonna whine and complaint like a kid here. My prerogative.) I barely have time to do the stuff I want to. Actually that’s only partly bull. Haha. I still found time to go to the movies religiously, every time a new movie (still reeling from the thrill of The Dark Knight Rises) that is of my interest is released. What I mean is that I have to sacrifice quite a bit here and there in order to get more studying done. Like less time on the piano/guitar, reading books, exercise (not that I’m complaining actually, I only exercise to not gain weight, damaging my eardrums with my dinosaur iPod while I’m at it) and sadly turning down friends. Sorry folks. A nerd’s gotta do what she’s gotta do. It’s just for these few months. I really want to pass the cut-off point. I even downloaded a freaking app on my phone to keep me motivated. Lol.

But fret not, I am not insane. Stressed maybe. My mom told me to not study so much for she fears that I will turn into a nutjob. I don’t study ALL the time. But I sure am amazed to see some of my comrades that seem to be able do so and the level of kiasu-ness that comes with the package. The heat is on, I get it, but for me I refuse to disregard everything else in my life. Moderation is the key in my personal opinion. I pity those that can’t stand the sight of another person studying when he/she is not. I used to feel that way but I got over it somehow. People getting smarter won’t make me any more stupid. Go figure.

I will focus on working on my own goals and we’ll see what happens.

Aside from that, I am proud to announce that I can now cook more things. Haha. The fasting month has certainly brought a change in me where I have no choice but to cook when I cannot stomach anymore by-products of a certain (only??) shop in my college. I learnt how to make porridge. Laugh all you want. I hated porridge before this. Watery tasteless goo design for sick people. Never ate it even when I was sick. No reason to know how to cook it right. Heh. But now I see the light. It’s the fastest, simplest meal I can have apart from instant noodles. One can only eat so many packets of instant noodles before one’s pulse races when one sees the amount of one’s hair fall. Pimples, dark circles and eyebags I have come to terms with but my mane? Never…! So back to porridge, it’s not that bad really. One of my earlier attempts almost resulted in rice, so I added more water in and ate fat, expanded rice soaked in water in the end. But practice makes perfect. I am now a pro at the art of porridge-making. B-) I even made some with red rice. Lol. Roommie’s idea. It was edible. And I felt so healthy I could die.

So there you go, first post in a long while. Will probably be another long while before another post pops up because I’d really rather spend my time watching Suits (damn, that is one fine show you have to watch before you die) instead of typing random thoughts that goes through my brain.

Downside Of Words

Aren’t words magical?

Words have the ambiguous ability to act as balm to soothe a heartache, or fashioned into knives and daggers to bring people down. It can be the best personalized weapon of destruction designed to inflict the worst of hurts on one. Physical wounds would form a scab to cushion the pain and heal completely eventually. However emotional ones remain raw and torturous every waking moment.

Words can be treacherous serpents born from the tongue of it’s maker, pregnant with poison just waiting to be unleashed. The venom could engulf one’s heart in flames of despair if wielded accurately.

There are many times where I found myself in a situation where white hot fury consumes me and since I can’t actually hit the person, I automatically ransack my brain for the most lethal string of syllabus, contrived with the sole aim to agonise, to be hurled at him/her. Well finding myself at the other end, the end which is being hurled at, was a debilitating taste of my own medicine to say the least.

I will be more careful in my speech. Sometimes silence is the best thing to say. After all, words once spoken, can never be taken back.

The Kid

I was reading something intently in the bookshop today when I felt something tugging at my cardigan. Behold, there stood a toddler of about 2-3 years staring curiously at me. She had these enormous puppy-dog eyes and her expression was of amusement as her father told her that she had not tugged at her mom, but a stranger. I was reduced to a beaming idiot. She slowly let go of my cardigan and kept her eyes on me. I saw her mom and she didn’t look too thrilled but hey, not my problem.

I’ve always adored kids and even contemplated on venturing into paediatrics. This incident somehow enforces my narcissistic (but not baseless 🙂 ) belief that children generally like me. This is a pleasant thought indeed.

Thank you little munchkin for making my day.