I've told you before what I want, what I can't stand, what annoys me..but everytime I'm shot down or made to feel like I'm the meanest person on earth.

I'm tired of being the bad guy. I'm tired of being told that I'm selfish just because I have certain ideas of how I envision my life to be.

Everyone has a right to dream, the right to aspire - is that so wrong?

I'm still Fatty McFat in my head

So since I've been back in Malaysia for almost two years now, I've kinda lost some weight. About 15kg of weight.

Before

I'm not gonna lie. Adjusting to 'being fat' took a bit of getting used to. And before you start rolling your eyes, this is not some oh-look-at-me-I-think-I'm-awesome post. It's not. Read between the lines if you may.

See, I gained helluva lot of weight towards the last few months during my year abroad. My boyfriend Alex and I LOVE to eat, and we would literally eat all day and all night. We ate, we slept, we hung out, we traveled..life was good. I was the happiest I'd ever been, and I hardly noticed the massive weight gain. I suppose because no one ever brought it up, or made me feel like shit for it. Sure my clothes, no longer fit, skinny-Ts starting to ride up my belly - a first for me. But Alex gave me the solution, buy clothes that fit..and that meant buying a size 12, and eventually even a size 14.

Now I'd been able to fit in 8's and 10's before, and trust me..getting your brain to be O.K. with buying 2 sizes bigger was a huge blow to the ego. It took me awhile, but after awhile it got tiring having to constantly suck in your tummy with super tight tops. So I surrendered and started on rebuilding my wardrobe. But despite all that, I was still pretty cool with myself.

And then I came back to Malaysia, and it started.

One after another, starting from my own mother (I'm a poet huh!)..all I seemed to hear was "WOW you've put on a lot of weight!"

Some looked seriously distraught, but for the most part, people almost seemed to enjoy the fact that I was overweight. Sick or not?

I would go shopping by myself in malls (I love doing this), and I'm not trying to blow my own trumpet here but before I would get boys looking at me, and their girlfriends giving me the evil eye - not like I was all that hot pun, but I guess to some, maybe I was competition? THEN.

But this time around, no one looked, no one stared, no one gave me the evil eye. I was invisible. It was refreshing, yet I couldn't help but feel like..hey man wtf!? I'm still hot what! My boyfriend tells me everyday I am! Of course he would, he's your boyfriend!

So after a couple of months of this constant 1-sided conversation in my head..I started to accept my new found invisibility and used it to my advantage.

I had no reason to dress up fancy anymore, no reason to care about how I did my hair and so on.

I also found that certain friends lost touch with me, or like some people that I was never really close to just slowly disappeared from my life..which didn't really bother me coz quite frankly, I could care less. Those of you who are close to me know that I am somewhat of an anti-social, so it was abit of a relief not to have to feel obliged to hang out with people I wasn't really close to.

But after losing all that weight (not intentionally btw, it just sort of happened), all of a sudden I'm getting all these msgs and texts from these people complimenting me on my weight loss. Which I guess is great, and I guess they're just being genuinely nice..but I can't help but feel like, OH so NOW I'm relevant again?

Ya ok I'm being a sour puss, so I'll try to end this on a positive note. This post goes out to all my family and friends who've been keeping it real with me, be it at 79kg or 60kg.. you guys are awesome and I gots your back always mayyyyn!

Oh and a quick shout out to my girls Zef, Inayah, Tati and Amal for coming out and celebrating my joint-birthday thing with Zef last Saturday.. I had the best best time :) love you girls!

Sugar Cane Kowalzyck
Sugar. The worst (but yummiest) thing ever created by MAN! So ok, I've been told I lost quite a bit of weight this year, and I attribute it to me cutting down on "some" daily sweeties i.e. no teh ais, kopi ais, less snacking on cookies and unnecessary tidbits at work.. so I think that somewhat contributed to the weight loss. And I can see how based on the following..be warned! You shall never look at your favourite guilty sweeties the same way again :(













Sent this to Alex, and this is what he sent back:


He's so corny it hurts my mouth everytime I try to knock this stupid grin off my face :D

MALAYSIAN RACISM


Was doing some reading on Malaysia as a third world country and came across this blog and some of the comments kinda pissed me off. So here are some of the snippets, and my response (in the heat of the moment, yes I know I'm very emotional!) :

Bumi Ownz U Says:
September 21, 2008 at 10:38 pm

Malaysia is third world. Its corrupt, the foot paths are falling apart.. there are deaths due to bits of buildings falling off.. there are beggers on the street.. there are dodgy rip off merchandise in dodgy areas in the city… in fact, the cleanliness of the country is disgraceful.. people throw rubbish, empty bottles out of their windows… Malaysia hires third world people to build their third world low quality structures… just look at the bricks and you will see how “quality” the materials are.. look at the finish… look at Proton.. maybe you should sell it to India because nobody wants it…

Malaysia is third world… Low quality.. producer of low quality subsistence products… its GDP is considered third world.. its economic size cant even compete with 3.5million people singapore… if you are proud of Malaysia, maybe you should get out of your hole and see the world and what progression really is…

riezawa Says:
September 23, 2008 at 9:31 am

Ah, well before you burn the writer for the message, read more of the stuff on the rest of the site… I’m a Malaysian Chinese presently studying (Actuarial Science/ Finance) in America.

“maybe you should get out of your hole and see the world and what progression really is…” I think I’m sufficiently out of my hole now… Right?

Honestly I wouldn’t want to get into UiTM in the first place. Is it ranked anywhere as a particularly good uni to go to? No?

“Catch a taxi in Tokyo and then catch a taxi in Malaysia and you will realise why Malaysia is still third world…” What, because taxis in Malaysia cost at least 300% less? Kesian the Malaysian taxi uncles lah, they’re not all bad. Burn a hole in your wallet taking a cab in USA and maybe you’ll revise your opinion, you know.

Actually I’ve wanted to write about the Malaysian Apartheid for a while now. Indeed, I think it’s quite true. Maybe someday, if I’m not lazy.

RM isn’t really a joke… Maybe I should make a joke about the USD. That one is a riot.

Audra Says:
April 1, 2009 at 12:31 pm

I’ve always had a problem with racists statements. I am a 25-year old Malay, but have always been mistaken for a Chinese. Growing in various states in Malaysia, I’ve had a tonne of friends from all different religions and races and never really thought racism was a problem until I left high-school.

I didn’t do too well in my SPM, 3As and the rest were Cs. My dad had just retired from serving the government as the Dean and Campus Director for USM, so money was not in abundance. Therefore, I had to settle for UiTM (Oh the HORRORS huh Riezawa) and not some fancy private college. While this left me terribly unhappy, I made it a point to be a stellar student and I’m proud to say that I’ve accomplished much more than my other counterparts who studied in private colleges and even universities abroad. I then managed to snag a partial scholarship to do my MA in London (not through UiTM, completely on my own effort and pocket).

BTW Riezawa, what’s the point of going to a highly ranked University if you end up coming out of it with a particularly shallow mentality such as yours? In case they didn’t teach this in Actuarial Science in the US of A, it’s what you do with your education - regardless of where you obtained it, that counts. Fuck, I’ve met numerous people in the current KL workforce from so-called prestigious colleges and universities from KL and around the world who can’t even write a decent e-mail in English. Going to a high-ranking university just means you have money, and not necessarily the brains. Oh and FYI, UiTM grads are highly sought after because they CAN actually work, and not full of shit like most private college spoilt brats out there. Again, of course there are spoilt rotten apples everywhere. All I’m saying is don’t be so quick to judge a person based on what Uni they come from.

Secondly, yes the racial quota sucks. I can understand why non-bumis would be upset. However, here’s some food for thought : I have three sisters who received full scholarships to study medicine in England and let me tell you, they slogged hard to get it. Today, all three are serving government hospitals and work 7-days a week..and for what? To help the Rakyat. Hell, they’ve probably operated on one of your relatives. Why don’t you tell them to their face how you think their education was undeserving? Do you know how shit they pay? While most others would easily find any excuse not to return to Malaysia let alone work in the govt hospitals purely for monetary reasons, there are tonnes of others who do it because of the passion and the REAL desire to help those in need. Let me tell you something, if you’re doing medicine because “WAHHH CAN EARN A LOT OF MONEYYY” then we’re all fucked. I would not go to a doctor who has money as his/her motivation.

This is the reason why Malaysia will never be anything more than a third world country because of its citizens and their third world mentality. Everyone thinks that everything should be handed to them on a silver platter. Fuck dude, if you’re in the US you should know damn well that most students take up loans for their education and not have their parents pay for it. Instead of being all wah wah wah I’m not getting this, I’m not getting that..what is it exactly that YOU are contributing towards the country? If you are so far awesome and above this shitty country, then why are you not being the bigger person here? Serve the country, as it has served you by providing you with a safe haven, a roof over your head and food on your table that has enabled you to be where you are today.

Oh and another thing : I am TOTALLY for equal rights. If only there were equal amounts of Chinese and Indians serving the Police, the Army, and all the uniformed bodies that risk their lives to fight for the country. I seriously have a lot of respect for all the non-Malays in the armed forces, super thumbs up to them. Chew on that. Yeah I said it. Equal rights should come in not only in terms of education and “ideal” jobs. No one is forcing you to join the army, you have the freedom of choice to study whatever the hell you want to yet still you complain? Heavens, what an ungrateful bunch of whiny brats. You know what, if you hate this third world country so much, do us all a favour and don’t come back. I’d rather hang out with the everyday Rakyat than you shallow, pretentious, materialistic obnoxious folks ANY DAY.

Seriously I am SO TIRED of hearing people bitch about the inequalities of the world. FACE IT people, life isn't fair. So you don't get to go to a dumb Malay university. Some other person has AIDS. Someone else is bankrupt. And somewhere out there someone realised he just fucked his long lost grand-daughter. LIFE FUCKING GOES ON.


Can we all just get a long now?

Pet Peeve Item #1: The Desperate Interviewee

Every once in a blue moon, someone I'm not very close to or a really old acquaintance will initiate a chat session (which I'm TOTALLY fine with) by saying "hi", to which I reply "hey hi how are you, it's been awhile" and that person says "gud" in all his or her inability to spell..and then proceeds to say nothing. I mean, ok..why would you try to chat me up..and then stop saying anything after you tell me you're doing good? what's that about? is there something I'm not getting? are you trying to fish for an interview, in which you are the star and I am supposed to stop doing whatever it was that I was doing when you interrupted me, to ask questions about your life?

I don't get it?

Juno

So we all know Juno is an awesome movie, but what's even more awesome is the soundtrack! I finally remembered to download my favourite songs off that soundtrack..so I'm gonna share with you one of 'em here!



You're a part time lover and a full time friend
The monkey on you're back is the latest trend
I don't see what anyone can see, in anyone else
But you

Here is the church and here is the steeple
We sure are cute for two ugly people
I don't see what anyone can see, in anyone else
But you

We both have shiny happy fits of rage
I want more fans, you want more stage
I don't see what anyone can see, in anyone else
But you

You are always trying to keep it real
I'm in love with how you feel
I don't see what anyone can see, in anyone else
But you

I kiss you on the brain in the shadow of a train
I kiss you all starry eyed, my body's swinging from side to side
I don't see what anyone can see, in anyone else
But you

The pebbles forgive me, the trees forgive me
So why can't, you forgive me?
I don't see what anyone can see, in anyone else
But you

Du du du du du du dudu
Du du du du du du dudu
I don't see what anyone can see, in anyone else
But you



This one's for you Alex, my doudou trois! kiss!

Sempurna

You turned around and blew me a kiss. I forced a smile, and blew one back. I stayed on and watched you walk away from immigration, until I could no longer see your feet. I turned and looked for the nearest restroom. I shut the door, and started to cry.

After what seemed like an eternity, I stuck my earphones into my ears and took out my iPod. The very same one your mother gave me. Music - Playlist - AUDRAkay - Andra & The Backbone. Sempurna was the song of choice. The song that we had been listening to over and over again in the car the past three weeks you were here. I could imagine you humming it, how you said it sounded like a Phil Collins song. We still never figured it out. I regretted not telling you what the whole song meant.

Oddly enough, it made me feel stronger listening to it, when it should've brought me closer to tears. It felt as though you were telling me those words, invisible hands holding on to me that were helping me to my car. I looked down, not wanting to look at the people who were very obviously looking at me with my smudged make-up. I walked, and I walked fast.. I reached the carpark, and I could hear my breathing getting louder and louder. I just wanted to get into that car. The minute the door slammed shut, I screamed and I cried.

I started the car, and with every inch I moved away from the place that I parked, the sicker and sicker I felt to be leaving you, while you were still just only miles away from me. I felt helpless, and felt like dying. The most horrible drive home, all I can remember were the tears that consistently kept my cheeks wet. My body functioned like clockwork. I didn't know what I was doing, but I was moving the car.

Three weeks ago, I drove the same road.. I was excited, nervous.. but most of all, just happy to have had my hands in yours again. Three weeks later, I am a wreck. I wonder, how many times have the trees by this road to and from KLIA witnessed the highs and lows of people passing by.

I reached PJ. The streets looked different. My house felt different. Mom opened the door, no words were exchanged. I sat down beside her on the couch, trying my best not to look like I was devastated. She softly asked if there were any problems. I told her about the manual check-in.

She softly patted me on my thigh, and instantly I felt teardrops on my arm. I closed my eyes and turned away. Viv sent me a text, and all I could think of was how relieved I was that she didn't send you off. Only because I was in no mood to see or talk to anyone. No one could possibly understand the sadness inside of me. I felt that if I talked about us, that it would've cheapened our time spent together.

I know we fought a lot during your three weeks here, and I know it's because of what I did in the past.. I know I said that these were the worst three weeks of my life..but I take it all back. If anything, I've never felt more alive.

Our last night together was the most magical. It sparked something in me, it made me feel like that very first time in your Gubbay room all over again.

Alex,

You are a person full of character, and I know I've called you a negative person before.. but you're also the nicest, most caring, funny as hell, real, intelligent, responsible..and of course sexXxy as fuck and handsome-st man on earth. Besides Mommy and Daddy, you are the only person I will ever trust my life with.

I think maybe the reason why I feel a lot calmer now, despite having to say goodbye for the fourth time.. is that eventhough I'm sad in my heart, I know this is not the end. I know I will see you again very, very soon and it will be amazing.

I'm so glad you met my family. Mom told me to tell you that she loves you a lot, that you're a nice sweet boy and she misses your company. You've also pleasantly changed her perception of Americans, who knew! She said that when you hugged her goodbye, she didn't want to hug you too long because she would've started to cry.

Alex my darling, please know that you are dearly missed here.. the house feels so empty without you walking by the hall, with two glasses of iced water in hand.. one for you, and one for me. I keep hoping to see you walk through that door, with your sleeveless t-shirt and shorts, and that smile on your face.

You may not have enjoyed my crappy country and the shitty people you had to deal with here, but I'm sure glad I got to see it through your eyes. I'll see you as the tiny, green bird with the splash of red feathers underneath, my Toco, a tiny electric blue fish in the clear blue waters of Lang Tengah full of sharp corals and sharks, the lizards on my porch.. all the things that will put a smile on my face :-)

Alex.. I find it incredibly poetic that my Mom's red lilies bloomed for the first time in 20 years on the morning you were about to leave..and you saw it. It's as if it bloomed for you, for all the joy you have brought us, to me especially.

I love you with all my heart my baby Alex, thank you for being my man.. and I'm so proud to be your little girl..for always..

The Anti-Camwhore

This post isn't going to make me famous with many, but honestly I couldn't care less. And yeah, some of you are even going to say, wow she's so shallow and so petty. Well screw you, this is my blog and I'll bitch if I want to.



As far as I'm concerned, I was the original camwhore. I had a digital camera (albeit a pretty shit one) way before anyone else. Sometime in 2000. And I had been messing with Photoshop since I was 14 (read: 1997). Yes, everything I know, is self taught.

I joined Friendster in 2003. At first I had a really awesome picture of Devon Aoki as my primary pic. And while everyone had poor-quality scans of their passport/pictures with bad eye exposure, I had already posted up awesome cropped pictures. Ya I knew how to crop, how cool was I. Which then led me to camwhoring. Taking many-many pictures of myself. And way before the advent of America's Next Top Model and having Tyra giving picture-taking advice, I already knew that you needed to take hundreds of pictures of yourself to find a few that really Popped. Of course in time, you would perfect this skill and be able to get THE shot at the first try.

And this was good for awhile, I had fun experimenting..photoshop is by far my favourite program of all time.

Slowly but surely, other camwhores starting sprouting up here and there.

Dude, don't get me wrong. Camwhoring is hecka fun. I get that. And hell some of my friendships even blossomed from our joy of camwhoring and photoshopping.

Honestly though. Camwhoring for the purpose of spawning art or something..well something that has a story or SOMETHING lah..anything substantial is totally fine by me. Til today I still see really good camwhore pictures that have good compositions, good use of colours and so on and I still get blown away. I give credit where credit is due. And I sure as hell can appreciate a good picture.

But wow. A picture for pictures sake?

Do we really need to see 47 different angles of a person in the same outfit, pouting in all different angles, trying her damnest to look cute/sexy/hot? There are porn sites for that, thank you very much.

And I thought I took a lot of pictures. During my time in London, I was always the token Asian with her camera at all times. No one else had theirs, well coz they were too busy enjoying the moment, soaking it all in..not consumed about ok I can't wait to post this up on Facebook tonight when I get home. None of that. To be honest, I would camwhore only before and after I went out, not so much when I was actually out. Likewise when travelling. I would be looking for a goodshot of the people and places as compared to having 20 pictures of me with the same backdrop..to get a good one of me. Bitch please, I look good in all my pictures.

But when I came back to KL, boy was I in for a surprise of the level of camwhoring.

I went out with a bunch of people I had not seen in awhile. The minute they saw me, without even saying Oh Hey how are you, it's been so long..the first thing they did was to call me over to..yep you guessed it..

"TAKE PICTUREEEEE"

so I got in the shot, flashed my pearly whites and click.

"Nono I look grossss in this oneee, take anotherrrr,"

click click.

"Omggg I look so gemukkk in this oneee,"

oh brother. this was gonna be a long night.

so basically this was it. the whole night. the minute i sat down to have a drink,

"hey picture everyyonee,"
"my cameraa pulakkk,"
"mine tooooo!"

And it never stopped. The pace was steady the whole night. No one was spared. Every guy who was unfortunate enough to be standing near the table had had to take pictures of us. Even the bartender. Bless his soul. The best part was when I was asked to take some pictures, first horizontally, vertically, and of course my favourite line,

"Make sure nampak my kasut tau!"

If you need to know, I am rolling my eyes up so hard right now I think it might actually stay that way.

To sum it up, I had no fun whatsoever that night. More than half the time was spent taking a 101 different shots of the same people, the same poses, the same rehearsed 'sexy' dancing.. this shit is acceptable when you are a gung-ho 18 year-old in the clubs looking to get freaky with the regular club-hottie lah.

At that night, I missed my buddies in London like hell. Hana and her crazy no-rules dancing. I remembered dancing and rocking it out everytime Veron and I got together. Even Toshi was hilarious in her own way. All of THAT was fun.

Not being a resident poser.

I don't know. Maybe I'm just getting old and crabby.


Crabby or not, it's good to know that I'm no longer stuck in a bubble.

Um..Happy New Year?

Alright, so i'm a little bit behind time. Four months late to be exact. Have I been wanting to blog? Yes, very much so. Unfortunately, time has not been a friend to me..and I'm finding that I need more than 24 hours in a day.

So Happy New Year, Gong Hei Fatt Choy, Happy Thaipusam, Selamat Maulud Nabi and all that jazz. Now that we're done with the "formalities", let's get this show on the road then.

Last night I had the weirdest dream. Here's what I recall.

I was watching the Travel & Living channel with my mom. It was on Rome, that Samantha Brown show. My mom started getting upset, she said she tossed a coin at Trevi Fountain and apparently if you do this, it means you will one day return to Rome. But of course she never went back and she kept saying how it was now too late coz she was too old.

So I took her there (yes coz in my dream, I have all the dream money one could possibly have), she was happy, so forth and so on.

That's all I remembered from there. The strange thing was, after this dream.. I was in that blurred line between being asleep and on the verge of being awake.

Do you guys ever notice that sometimes, when you're really tired and just as you are about to fall alseep.. you make sounds, beyond your control? like you'll be sleeping and suddenly you make an 'ugh' sound and you know you made it, but you didn't do it consciously?

well okay, in that stage of in-betweeness, i heard a voice say 'Hey'. And I knew it wasn't me. well it didn't sound like it came from me. I was lying on my side, and the voice came from behind me. but I was too tired, I thought okay it had to come from me..and I just sort of dozed off again..but my conscience was telling me that something horribly wrong must be happening.

And then it led me to thinking that something must've happened to my mom. My mom must've died in her sleep. That's why I had the weird dream about her saying it was too late to see Rome. That 'Hey' I heard must've been my mom's spirit trying to wake me up to go check up on her body coz everyone was sleeping still.

I know this sounds absurd now, but it all felt very real as it was happening. I started to feel so upset that I woke up, got out of my room and went to her room..but the bed was empty. I rushed to the kitchen, and let out a huge sigh of relief..

..she was pottering about the kitchen as she always does, making herself a cup of tea. Alhamdulillah.


Dreams.


I'll never understand them..

Apologies..

for the relapse of abandoned-blogging syndrome. I don't even know why that is. I have been in America for a month now, but contrary to popular belief, I haven't been anywhere particularly touristy yet. The first two weeks were pretty fast-paced, meeting everyone in the first week, dinners with the respective families, getting my hair done by the family hairdresser, getting my teeth checked, shopping non-stop..and then of course you have.. the amazing eating marathons.

oh my.

There is a reason why Americans are said to have the most obese people in the world. It is because they have the most awesome food in the world. The most awesome fast food to be precise. And all those drive-thru's. You know you're in a great country when there's a drive-thru Starbucks.

Also, the grocery shops or supermarkets as I'm used to calling them are the best. Never before have I enjoyed grocery shopping until now. Supermarkets here have everything, and even serve good, cheap sushi which totally gets top rankings from me. And they're actually nice places to be in..from their decor to the customer service which is without a doubt, THE awesomest. Everyone's so goddam friendly I want them all to be my friends. I want to live here, for real. Now I just need to pack my Momma and my Poppa in my suitcase to come live here with me.

Oh and the best thing about America? SCRAPBOOKING. I know. They have specialty shops everywhere for scrapbooking. Alex's mom got me one for my birthday and for a fancy-stationery addict like myself, that's the best gift (of course I'm not complaining about the 3rd generation iPod Nano either :p) Even in their Wal-Mart's you have a section dedicated to scrapbooking and you can get all sorts of cute additions for scapbooks from themed papers, to stickers and cute little appliques to match the occasion. Am I loving it or am I loving it.

So things were going well, then BAM..puasa month. I found myself being cut from doing activities that tire me out. Now I pride myself on fasting the whole of last year in London (thanks to polycystic ovaries) and only missed two days this year due to a trip to the dentist but I've definitely come to the conclusion that fasting abroad, alone, is not easy and in no way fun.

Last year, I had classes from 11am - 7.30pm yet I still managed to fast a whole month. At the time, my Czech friend Hana reckoned that it was because I was missing home so much that I had the need to hold on to something that was a part of my culture, to feel like I wasn't losing myself. While I would like to agree that part of that theory did sound true..I'd like to think that now, after having to explain to a huge Christian family in the US of A about my reasons for fasting (which some think is absolutely hazardous to health in terms of dehydration) I find myself having to justify my religion and my choices.

Don't get me wrong, Alex's family is the nicest family I've ever had the opportunity to have met. I love that they are curious about me, I love that they ask me all these questions about my culture and religion. And if anything, it has only made me realise why I've been doing these religious acts that I've been doing and I'm glad that I've realised that I've had the right intentions all along.

Like another fellow blogger had mentioned, I am perhaps not the best example of the perfect Muslim. I drink on occasion, and do not cover my aurat. These are some of the more obvious characteristics. I used to pray once a day for a short time at least before leaving for London, but it was tough to keep that up once I got there. For the most of my life in London though, I did a very good job of sticking to Halal food, but towards the last month there..I found myself just dying to eat non-Halal chicken whenever the mood struck. And when I came to America, let's just say the greed and need to want to try all the Buffalo Blasts and Jamaican Breeze's got the best of me. I ate like a King. And boy, it felt good.

So when puasa month came, I had a bunch of decisions to make. And I knew if I made a decision, I had to stick to it. Because I had to explain to a bunch of white people why I was doing what I was doing, I knew I didn't want to be fickle, let alone be seen as a fickle person. Bottomline is that I'm a Muslim. Do I love my religion? Yes. I figure, as long as I have a good justification for my actions, no one can say what is right and what is wrong and in doing my duty as a good Muslim, it is my responsibility to portray my religion for what is, all its beautiful qualities, and not my weaknesses as its follower. An ex of mine once told me that the most important thing in Islam was the intention to do everything for the Almighty. It is a belief that I still hold on to strongly.

Secondly, I know I'm not a bad person. Call me gullible, but the story about how the gates of hell are closed in this holy month along with all the syaitan's has always stuck with me. And so the story goes that everything bad that you do in this month, is completely your own doing - and not the doing of Satan's temptation as in the case of Adam and Eve. Always being up for a challenge, I take it upon myself to prove that I am all that I claim to be. It also gives me a cheap thrill to secretly say "Face!" to no one in particular whenever I turn down a Carls Jr Spicy Crispy Chicken Burger. Ok so I'm lame, but I think of the fasting month as my reality check. It's like I give myself the liberty to act like a twit for 11 months, but once every year I make sure I'm stable by detoxifying my sins for a month. Make sense? Go figure.

So for this month, I have decided that I'm going to be good (except for the fact that I share a room with my boyfriend, I'm not about to shoo him off the bed and nooo way I'm sleeping on the floor again). I'm going to fast, eat only Halal meat, and not drink. The drinking, I don't care. I'm not an alcoholic. But the meat business is tough. Not only is it hard on me, but it is hard on Alex and his family especially his mom whom I spend a lot of time with. She has to makan the same time as me, drop everything else to make sure I eat at 7.03pm, and she has to think of places with good vegetarian/fish dishes. I am grateful that they are so accepting of me even as far as his mother going to a Halal meat market to get ground beef to make lasagna for her son's birthday. I do feel truly blessed. There are so many reasons to complain about not having to eat, but it is times like these that one should be thinking about all the things they are blessed with, for instance, a family to break fast with or even the Pasar Ramadhan just filled with delicious treats - what I would give to have Nasi Dagang right now.

So here's to everyone who is finding it hard, think too much and it will be a chore. Just think of it as self-improvement rehab.


And really, isn't that what religion is about anyways?


Safe fasting ya'll.

And we're back in 3..2..



so by now I'm pretty sure no one is reading this blog anymore for the lack of posts in the past 2-3 months, but I'm hecka bored and I'm tired of the Lindsay Lohan - Britney Spears repeats on channel 236 so I am going to BLOG!



AHHHH how nice it is to be able to write out my thoughts to absolutely no one in particular, oh blogging how I have missed you :)



I suppose it is only appropriate that I write a quick update as to what has been happening since..god knows when! The Top 10 Things that have been happening are (in no particular order):



1. Me completing a 20,000 word dissertation, meaning that I am done with my MA!!! ..or so I hope! If my tutor deems it acceptable, I will have my Masters by the age of 23..whoopdedo!



2. The weather in London finally catching up to its schedule as it slowly but surely starts to heat up in AUGUST nonetheless. Summer, is officially here.



3. I am tired of thinking about my future and am officially living in the NOW. So no, I don't know if I'm going back to KL at the end of the year for sure, but it sure looks like it!



4. I am now 72kg. Yes, I was 55kg when I left KL. I may be fat, but I make a size 12 look good hunny (this is what I tell myself when I feel like crying everytime I look in the mirror). At least I have a man who likes my juicy booty :)



5. I am leaving for Sacramento, California on the 26th of August for two months to be with Alex :))))) love you Doudou Trois *kiss*



6. I want to take up a job at a ski resort. I applied for a couple and received some feedback.. butttt some things are holding me back. So we'll see.



7. I am a complete PSP junkie now. I dream of rolling a Katamari, LocoRoco, Lego StarWars, and Bomberman.



8. I also know who Boba Fett is. I am a officially a complete nerd.



9. I miss hearing the Malay language, eating Malay food..and most of all lying down on my mother's bed watching afternoon telenovela's with bad dubbing.



10. I miss Paris. They say Parisian's are a snobbish lot but I beg to differ. We were there for Alex's birthday and to visit a friend and she was nothing but hospitable and kind (a little too kind if you ask us). She introduced us to her friends and they were just the same. I would just like to thank Anne, Isabelle, Simon, and Lola for their kindness and for making this trip absolutely memorable. They will always have a place in our hearts. <3

And there you have it! Not terribly exciting, I know. But I am getting old. And fat. And lazy. C'est la vie!

Happy 6th-month Anniversary

(29 November 2006 - 29 May 2007)

When I think about the past seven months that I've been here, it's hard to think of any memory without you. I still remember everything as if it were yesterday. From the time I saw you at Trafalgar at night from inside a car, the shy hi-bye conversations in the kitchen (not to mention the "I think he's in the kitchen now" before finding an excuse to be in the kitchen :P), watching Click in your room, the Halloween party (how Veron was part of the 'plan' to pull you meh), the Christina concert, how I was amazed you didn't pull any moves on me then and realised what a gentleman you were, you buying me a cookie and food when I was sick before we were even an item, the nights I was too 'tired' to just walk across to my room after a movie, our games nights in your room, ARTention, my Christmas present to you, Venice and Rome I will never forget how I felt that night on the deck when it was just us two looking out at the dark Venetian waters and lights of San Marco, the kiss on Plaza Venezia in Rome, how you ran back to me before immigration checks at the barrier to kiss me and say I LOVE YOU - the first time you said it, how it put a smile on my face, the empty room I had to go back to, the first time I saw you on the webcam, the tears, the laughs, the fights, waiting for you at the airport with a daffodil in my hand - how you smiled and turned at the sound of my voice before you even saw me, making sago with me in the kitchen, always washing the dishes while I cooked, how the most mundane chores were the most fun thing to do when I'm with you, having dinner with my sister, just being in my room watching TV and snuggling. You loving me unconditionally.

I love you Schmoops.

Thank you for being so patient with me. I know I haven't been making it easy for you, but you know you mean the world to me, the only one who makes me feel special and worthy of being loved. We've both come a long way, God knows long-distance is tough but we made it this far.

Audra sayang Alex :)

Disclaimer: This post was written half-way a few weeks back before holis began, but was so busy that I never got around to finishing it..so the references to 'last week' was in actual fact almost a month ago.

Why I Love the UK.

As most of you already know, the past week has been the worst since I got here. First on Tuesday, I had a presentation on what my dissertation would be on, and because I had a lack of time and resources, I just presented Shahnon Ahmad's Ranjau Sepanjang Jalan and the translation by Adibah Amin that I got off Amazon.com for frikkin £10.00 because I had already done it for a previous essay that was due the same day. So the presentation was good etc. like I made use of my PR training and went the whole 9 yards, Powerpoint Presentation, handouts etc. but it's like I wasn't feeling it and I wasn't excited about doing that. I was plagued by a feeling of hopelessness, and to top it off, I was expected criticism from the panel..but all I got was, "Yes, it's interesting to see how you've grouped it that way..it's very well organised." You'd think I'd be happy right? WRONG.

For some mental reason, I was on an emotional rollercoaster that week. I'd been so stresssed prior to that, and put in so much effort into it that I felt like the comments weren't constructive. Like okay, cmon.. I KNOW it couldn't be perfect..so what gives right? So anyway I went back upset, thinking okay..they must either not take me seriously or my presentation must've been really boring. And you know how after a presentation no matter how good or bad it is you're usually just relieved and glad it's done and over with? Well no matter how hard I tried, it bugged me..day and night. So the next day I emailed my lecturer and also mentioned that I knew it was too late coz I had done the presentation already but if I could change my topic to subtitling instead because I'm interested in venturing there. She replied that she thought it was a wonderful presentation and that it was a basis for a good dissertation but that she totally understood my POV on subtitling and said she would help any how she could. So that was one thing sorted. Gotta love helpful and understanding lecturers.

So now for the pièce de résistance: On Thursday I was still feeling bummed. So I thought, OK. Maybe some retail therapy would help. Plus it was Tehrym's birthday Friday night and I needed to get some things. So I went to Enfield Town and shopped and shopped, and bought quite a few things. My last stop was Monsoon, and I don't even go in there usually because the price is slightly steeper than Topshop etc. I go in, I look at belts..and I see one that I really like..it was soft, not like the hard, cheap belts you find elsewhere. It's £25. I breathe in and think long and hard. In the end I decided to just fudge it and before I knew it, I was carrying a tiny Monsoon paper bag with a belt in it. So I get on the bus back to Oakwood and put my stuff beside me. I get off, and get on the shuttle back to Trent Park.

As I get off the shuttle and walk towards my hall, I realise..fuck. I didn't have my Monsoon bag. I felt like a total idiot!! The most expensive thing that I had bought that day and the one thing I was actually not sure of getting was G-O-N-E. Words cannot express how much of a spaz I felt that day. Instead of making me feel better..retail therapy was more of retail injury - to my pea-sized brain and my wallet. Anyway, I brushed this off as best I could..and focused on Tehrym's birthday. So Friday was good, the party was nice etc, etc.

I slept at 3am, because I was supposed to send my sister off at Heathrow since she was finally leaving the UK for good. I woke up at 6.30am and decided I would take the cab to Oakwood since the shuttle didn't start that early. Then I told myself, well make sure you have enough money first. So I started looking for my little cardholder that had my bank card and Oyster (travel) card coz I sometimes put some money in there.

And guess what. I didn't find it. Yep. You guessed it. I put it in the Monsoon bag, along with the belt I lost. AUDRA, tu es GENIAL.

You cannot imagine how I broke down. I was so upset because I wouldn't be able to see my sister before she left. I called her up, crying and she calmed me down and said it was okay, and she asked me to sort my card out first. So I called the bank, cancelled my card. And then after I hung up I forgot to ask them about my balance. When I called them back it was a whole process of passing me from one person to another, and 15 minutes later when I finally got the 'right' person - voice message. Just my luck. So I had no cash, and no credit. By this time I am exhausted from the lack of sleep, from the tears, and from the headache. So I decide to sleep for an hour before heading to the bank in Enfield. Once there, I checked my account, and thankfully..no money had been removed. I took out some cash using my cheque book and made my way to my friends place in Enfield to get some Malay DVD's for my dissertation. On the bus, I asked the driver for hecks sake..where the Lost & Found for buses were. Thankfully it was on the way so I got off at the appropriate place.

The place was empty and the counter was closed, despite the sign that said it was supposed to be open. I rang the bell and the partition was lifted and a woman was there asking me what I was looking for. I told her, a red Monsoon paperbag, possibly with a belt, and a cardholder in it. She said, one second let me go back and check for you..and with that, she closed the partition again. Immediately, I leaned on the counter as I knew she wasn't going to find anything and that it would take awhile. Not even 5 minutes after she left, I was shocked when I heard a voice behind me say, "There you go!" I turned around in disbelief, and there I saw the woman, WITH the Monsoon bag..and get this - everything was in the bag. I mean E.V.E.R.Y.T.H.I.N.G. From the belt to the debit card. I jumped for joy, thanked her numerously and skipped on. I then went on to Hanie's place, Veron's place with lunch and nap, before heading to Central to visit my cousin and aunt. It sure was the longest day of my life.

Well, the point of the story really is to note my amazement and the luck of my situation. Let me assure you that if this were in my dearest country Malaysia - that bag would have been longgggggggg gone. Money would've been drained out of my account, and I would be a total wreck. Thank you to the kind soul who found the bag and passed it on to the bus driver, if you had taken the belt I would have still thanked you for saving my card but that just goes to show what a big-hearted person you are. To the bus driver, thank you for being an honest, honest man - if I knew who you were I would commend you and the Transport for London services for having such respectful staff. Lastly, thank you Alex sayang for bearing with me throughout my crazy, PMS-y self.. I don't know how you do it.. but I sure love you for it :)

Truly.. my faith in mankind has been restored.

You Are Pop Art

When it comes to art, you're definitely not a snob. You can appreciate the mainstream aspects of culture, even if you need to twist them a bit to make them your own. Whether you're into comics, retro pinups, or bold colors, you embrace what's eye catching and simple. As far as most other art goes, you consider it a little too elitist and high brow for your tastes!

What Art Movement Are You?

Go Back to *****, BITCH.

I'm stressed. I won't lie. I've been going through shit, because I'm stressed about my dissertation. And I'm at a low. I haven't been this low since I first got here the first month. But I miss my parents a lot. I really don't care much for anything else back home, but my parents..I can't live without. It pains me to know that they are getting older by the day, and that I am not there for them. To make things worse, I can't even be with my boyfriend. But that's the way it is. And I have to deal. Then, I get news from an old best friend in KL. And then I hear that some high-school "friend" that I HARDLY EVER spoke to has been trying to bad mouth me by saying, "Audra, rich girl..using dad's money and having fun in UK".

FUCKING HELL. YOU HAVE NO FUCKING RIGHT TO SAY THAT, YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW ME! I FOUGHT AND WORKED FUCKING HARD TO GET TO WHERE I AM TODAY, I GOT A FUCKING SCHOLARSHIP, MY DAD WORKS HARD TO MAKE SURE I HAVE FOOD, I DON'T GO FUCKING WASTE MY MONEY TO GET INTO CLUBS AND GET FUCKING WASTED ALL THE FUCKING TIME LIKE ALL THE OTHER SHITHEADS THAT STUDY ABROAD SO SHUT YOUR TRAP, YOU WHORE, YOU STUPID JOBLESS BITCH WHO USES OF ALL HER FRIENDS. SERIOUSLY HOW COULD YOU USE HER LIKE THAT..YOU CALL HER YOUR FRIEND? BUT YOU TREAT HER LIKE YOUR DAMN SECRETARY? HELLO LOOK IN THE MIRROR LA OK..KALAU DAH BURUK TU, HOW CAN YOU AFFORD TO HAVE SUCH A STINKING PERSONALITY? SURE SUCKS TO BE YOU. TAKDE DUIT PUN NAK CLUBBING, HOW SAD IS YOUR LIFE DUDE? THAT YOU HAVE TO PINJAM MONEY FROM PEOPLE TO GO CLUBBING..AND AT FUCKING 24 YEARS OLD? YOU ARE A FUCKING JOKE.

breathe.

that felt good. that felt damn good. that piece of news has really made my day. you know when you're in high school and you know you're weird and that people don't get you and you feel like you don't really fit in or that you're not good enough, but you know these people are stinking losers anyway so you don't really give a shit and mind your own business? well that's me. sri amanians are the biggest losers out there, so full of themselves when there's nothing to be proud of..it's like they're all on some kind of an ego trip for what also I don't know lah. and like I always say, its easier to hate and ugly girl that's mean then a pretty girl who is mean. Like when a pretty girl is mean you're like sure, she's prolly used to getting shit her way all the time. But when someone that looks like a buttface is being a bitch you're just like yo, whats this shit.

well, that's thoughtful and nice how bitch got her panties all tied up in a bunch talking about me, i feel bad that she never even crossed my mind once, since I got here. thanks for all the profile views people and assuming things and starting rumours, it's nice that you try and associate yourself with me by talking about me like you know me so well..it's sweet. it REALLY is. thanks, but no thanks. yo shit ass ain't worth jack and I wouldn't want to be associated with you, ever. this is for all the haters, leave me the fuck alone..I haven't done anything but mind my own business and I'd recommend you try it, but then again your desperate Britney-esque attention seeking attempts would probably not allow it. so just make sure you keep those shavers away.

The feeling with no name

He is the one that puts a smile on my face,

The one whose green eyes see right through me,

Beautiful are his eyes like the sea that catches the sun,

Through it I see bliss, kindness, honesty and fun.



But for a second I see something else,

And for that second I feel something else,

Like a thousand stones tied to my chest,

It’s a feeling that hasn’t a name.



He is the one who makes me happy,

Rubs my back and looks after me,

I run my hands through his curls,

And for a moment, all my troubles are far away.



But now he is oceans away from me,

I catch a whiff from the open window,

And it takes me back to the time,

I saw him first by chance in a car,

How I knew it was fate, what else could it be?



Both attracted but ever so shy,

It was Halloween, sandwiches, concerts and games,

Movies and cook-outs before anything,

It was when I knew he was a proper man.

Unlike the others I had met before,

He was the one I needed more,

Than anything else I had ever wanted,

Than anything else I had ever needed.



And now the trees outside,

They know our story,

They remember the walks we’ve taken,

They remember the laughs,

They’ve seen the passion,

And they also remember the tears.



They’ve watched while their leaves

Changed colors from green to yellow,

Naked, to being frosted with snow,

And now, with their pink cherry blossoms.



Still they are with us, with me when I’m sad

Thoughts of tomorrow, with no pleasant answers,

Leave me hoping, for that scent again,

So I can forget, for a moment,

That feeling with no name,

And instead have dreams

Of walks in the park,

How it started,

How it should end.

The Swiss Escape, 10-13 March 2007
Was in Geneva, Montreux and the French border at the small village of Yvoire with my neighbour from Kelana Jaya, Farah and her friend Alif. Stayed at her uncle's - the Malaysian ambassador in Geneva. Geneva was uber cool, not much to do..but awesome sights. Those mountains were especially breathtaking..Mont Blanc, Chateau de Chillon in Montreux, Jet d'Eau - the highest water pump in the world, and of course what trip to Geneva would be complete without at least a glimpse of the United Nations headquarters. Geneva's THE place to get your designer watches - Rolex, Phillipe Patek, Jaeger-LeCoultre...to your everyday Swatch which was prolly the only thing I could afford but I said NO! So you can expect everything in Geneva is ON time. The bus timetables are exactly as they should be, never late or early - its amazzaazzzing.

If you're ever in Geneva, I highly recommend dropping by Montreux though and walk along the Swiss Riviera for spectacular views. Plus Freddie Mercury's recording studio is also there and it's a regular concert venue. Ah je t'aime la Suisse :)

The attack of the random
dude I can't even begin to describe this..love it! imayoutubewhore..yessaaiamm.

Would you like a pie?

"Set in Russia, turn of the century. This is dark, penetrating theatre."

Would you like a pie?
No..

But it is a good pie.

Nevertheless.

Last time you brought me pie, I cut into it with my tiny pie cutter and millions of birds flew out hitting me in the eyes and the tadpole.

It was a trick pie.

Why you no like my pie?

I JUST TOLD YOU

WHY YOU NO LIKE MY PIEEEE
WHY DON'T LIKEEEEE

WHY MUST YOU BRING ME PIEEE
EVERYDAY FUCKING PASTRY GOODS WITH YOU

MY PIEEEE..

The best piece of theatre I've seen in awhile if you ask me. :)

Merrymaking at My Place.