18 til I Die

I got that phrase from a WWW fan… I think the Rock said it.. waitaminit.. isnt the rock the scorpion king guy? hmm.. not sure. Anyway, subject of post is my hair. YES. Still my hair. Frankly, I don’t know how long I can go on like this. The salon guy said not to wash it for 3 days. Today’s the 2nd day and I have to curb the ever increasing urge to reach for my shampoo. FRANKLY, my hair STINKS. I’ve never gone so long without washing it…. but i must resist.. RESIST.. otherwise it won’t remain straight and mom will whup my ass for wasting her money.

My room is still in an awful mess, the mess having been preserved in all its post-Ball-just-returned-from-Marriott glory as I didn’t give a flying fish about cleaning it up before returning to Melaka. Was quite sad to discover that the mess didn’t disappear magically on its own, after i came back here. So, I’m currently in the process of trying to clear enough space so i can see my own floor. I really was quite insulted when Eric walked into my room last week and asked me "Oh so this is your store room ar? To keep things isit?"  If he wasn’t so close to me, I’d have knocked him unconscious.

Went into MUSA today to settle a couple of Ballrelated stuff. For example, MACP sent a letter to the Public Affairs Dept causing a hooha claiming we haven’t paid licensing fee for the Monash Ball music that we played. The reality is that we have already gotten an invoice and have been liaising with them for the past two weeks. Silly organization.. overlapping duties. Make people panic only.

Mom’s coming to stay with me tomorrow nite. Pray I make it thru the nite. Die.. means cannot go out!

Ahaha… My head feels so much lighter and visibly smaller now. Although there’s still the same amount of hair on it, the torturing and flattening and chemical poisoning has shrunk my hair by about 1/2.. Yup.. i went to rebond my hair today, to mom’s great relief. She had been pestering me to go do sumthing about my rat’s nest of hair for ages, but I’ve always not bothered because ..well.. I’ve just not bothered. My usual Melaka salon said they were brave enuff to try and tame the little Simba living on top of my head so off I went at 11am this morning.

My hair was so voluminous that the salon guy assigned two assistants to grapple with it. Otherwise, i quote him.. "we do until tomorrow also cannot finish" .. SO, they plastered the poison on, I thought i could hear a couple of hairs screaming in agony, as they got zinged by the chemicals.. then came a session of steaming, then rinsing, then ‘kiap’-ping (with the hair flattener) , then plastering more poison, then rinsing then plastering one layer of treatment then rinsing then blowing then finally cutting then….it was alll OVER. Took about 6 hours .. and the sun was about to set as the new me stepped out of the salon, with a new flat head. J says its really flat and i guess that means the poison did its job well. Hehe.

I just remembered something. There’s one more party I have to organize… anybody got any suggestions as to where to have a bash for 200 people with dancing and (drinks?) .. HueiYing has suggested Planet Hollywood.. comment on, people!

Ok its been about 20 minutes since my last post, and it was quite an eventful 20 minutes. I opened the fridge and saw the choccies. But they were so complicatedly wrapped that i turned my attention to a cake box. It said ‘full moon’. I opened it and two red eggs dropped out, fell to the floor and cracked. Heh? My mom is so disgusting. She actually put a cake box in there with the two red eggs still intact. No point asking her why she did that. Her answer is always the same "ya meh? I dunnola .. im so busy la dear" Well. I tried to cut the damn cake but it was rock hard that my knife bent. Wasting energy only. So i picked up the red eggs, rinsed them in the sink and started eating them. I figure since we always have cold hardboiled egg slices on our Caesar salads, so no big deal in eating 2 cold hardboiled eggs at one shot. So thats over and done with.

I go to my computer, see Huei Ying and start chatting. Midway through our conversation of "yo kawan" and "wat are you doing?" I ask her why she did not bring her digital camera to the ball.

Her answer: my dad brought it with him to his trip to tahiland

It turned out to be Thailand. Adoi.

I am wasting my time online. I am a time-waster. That feels good. Especially since I did not use to have time to waste.

My aunt wants to go to Hong Kong in November. My grandma wants to go to China. I am devising a plan to get them to take me along. This means more car trips to do errands.

The days following the Ball are but a haze of blurry images, disjointed video clips and time spent doing nothing but sleep. I slept for 13 hours at a stretch, wanting to think of nothing, abso-fucking-lutely nothing at all. Even as I type this with a physically invigorated body, my mind is still tired and dread fills me when I hear the word ‘Ball’. Some may wonder "why am I painting a picture full of weariness and dread" , shouldnt i be happy that it is all over?

In a sense, I am. I am glad that all of the hard work we have put in did show some tangible result, I am glad nothing extraordinarily terrible happened…. but I can’t say it was perfect. Nothing is perfect. The show went on, of course, but no one except a few of the crew knows how much effort was put in, how much cancellations to the programme were made, and how many tempers were lost just to ensure we started, maintained, and ended the show on time. Things like that will happen, miscommunications will occur, tempers will flare, people will even yell. But after it is all over, when one has gotten over feelings of anger, fury, and hate, you will find that there is absolutely no point in bringing up the subject, to argue pointlessly again. All of us are tired. Who isn’t ? I cannot name one Ball crew head who did not work hard before or during the night, cos all of them did. Hope all of us will take this one week to recover from the effects of the Ball. I know I need it.

But you noe wat? After it all, the hard work was still worth it, as most of my friends who attended came up to say they enjoyed themselves despite them getting lost and all. So guys, our hard work didnt go unrecognized after all. 

I’m currently holed up in Melaka, gettin some much-needed R&R. Mom needs me to help her build a Powerpoint presentation about her school to be shown at the concert she is organizing. Oh btw, for those who don’t know, my mom runs preschools for kids. I usually don’t go to the schools, as there is no safe place to hide from the screaming little monsters. Even when I have to go there to send some stuff like books or vegetables, I never linger long. Anyway, this is the 16th year of the schools’ operations and they’re having a concert. I’m supposed to help on that night, and I’ve marked out that date on the calendar as the darkest milestone of my life. Pray I will survive.

Hey, dont get me wrong. It’s not that I don’t like kids. But I am… hemm.. help me out here.. wat is the equivalent of ‘racist’ for race discrimination when it comes to kid discrimination? Anyway ill just call it kid discrimination. I really don’t mind those witty, cheeky ones who call you ugly and such (yes, one kid at my mom’s school said my mom looked prettier than me) but I really feel like strangling the buggers who yell and scream and cry their lungs out like as if someone is torturing them. And the reality is, all that happened was another kid accidentally stepped on his foot.

Sorry to end so abruptly, but I was just informed by my grandma that the fridge is filled with goodies they brought back from USA. Apparently there’s a huge box of chocolates. My tastebuds are begging me to go investigate. Laters….

Of all the things in my life, almost all of them have altered/changed course over the years. All except one. Melaka, that small hole of a town I grew up in, seems to be the only constant in my life. Just like pi is 3.142. Like how the sun always rises in the East. Sitting on the bus back to Melaka after exactly two months of being away, I watched the all-too-familiar scenery unfold before me. First was the Ayer Keroh toll.. then the 3 obnoxious looking towers that are supposed to represent the 3 main religions in the country.. then the ancient Crocodile Farm that people from outstation still ask me about (I just dont get it about the crocodile farm thingie and why so many outstation ppl noe about it! It’s not like the croccies there can speak French or something).. Next its that long stretch of road that I ran down once before in the pouring rain in Form 1. Jaya Jusco is next; there’s just so much in this town that has not changed for two decades. It is only here where a moment feels like an eternity. Only I have changed, and I see it through different eyes now.

I was at home on Saturday, happily ensconced in my bed still reminiscing poignantly about my childhood days in Melaka and how good life was when wan tan mee only cost RM2, when the electricity suddenly died on me. And may I mention that no one else was going to be home the whole night, and the prospect of a freaky dark night alone was just nerve-shattering. Of course it didn’t help that I’m a scaredy cat who’s afraid of the dark. At first, I contemplated just locking my door and going under the covers forever, when the phone started to ring. I nearly jumped out of my skin, recalling all sorts of scary movies. It was a scene straight out of any Thai freakfest worth its salt. Anyway my perfectionist nature couldn’t stand to leave anything undone, and I just had to pick it up. My aunt was blaring on the line, telling me to get down to my grandparents’ place if I was scared.

Heh! Me?! Scared? No way! Come onlah.. I’m 21 la.. grew out of it edi la.. I told her. Then slammed down the phone and scooted back into the room to hide. Anyway, the sensible 21 year old that makes up about 20% of my mentality finally took charge and I scrabbled around some drawers in the kitchen for some candles. Found some, then proceeded to put them all over the place. When I finished, my living room and bedroom looked like I was getting ready for a seance. Lagi panik. Started moving candles here and there, which was when I spilled hot wax on my hand and thighs. I can tell you, it is NOT a pleasant feeling. I really do not understand how some people into sado-masochistic stuff actually use hot wax to arouse themselves. Frankly, it turns me more off than on.

Woh… I crapped so much about my dark night alone. Actually it may not seem like a big deal, but for a person who automatically yells ‘Mommy!!‘ everytime the lights black out, it is a ghastly experience.

Well, I’m back in bright and shiny KL now, with time whizzing past. Really, I somehow feel my watch moves faster when I’m up here. Yesterday was spent gallivanting around KL from the pageant clothes fitting at Wh, One Utama to the training classes at Blitz studios. So busy that I forgot that I had an assignment due today (Tuesday) and rushed back to uni to print out the question paper at 9pm yesterday. Din’t sleep the whole night trying to figure out the calculations, and when I came in this morning… the nastiest surprise awaited me. Apparently the lecturer changed the due date to Friday. I wished to hang myself.

Anyway, day’s almost over.. will be going makan with Eric and Jessica later. Everyone’s pretty stressed over the ball, could be seen when we had the final Ball meeting at 12 today. Cross fingers and toes……

*cut to present* Jessica has just walked to my table and dumped a box of 30cm by 30cm plastic wrap on my table asking me to use it to wrap veggies. Well. Number 1, I don’t know how to wrap veggies, especially round ones, without using up at least half the box. Number 2, I don’t have any veggies to wrap. My fridge is full of unhealthy but irresistible edibles. Mostly chocolate-based. From chocolate milk, to chocolate sweets, to chocolate wafers.

*Reality check- I may not be able to fit into my Ball dress.*

This post is hereby dedicated to the de-virginization of Huei Ying, our MUSA general secretary. By the way, the word ‘de-virginized’ was very intelligently coined by Nigesh, MUSA Publicity Officer. Today was a day of great historical proportions, as our secretary, at 22 years old, has lost her virginity.

This. Is. The. Story.

The day dawned bright and sunny, I woke up at about 10:45 to the chirping of my handphone. Knowing it was Jessica the Awful calling to disturb me as she always does every morning when she comes into MUSA and I’m not there, I picked up without even glancing at the caller ID. "Yes, Jess. I’m coming in. What you want?" Apparently, she wanted lunch. So I got ready, and went into MUSA, found out that a lunch at Sushi King was being planned. All because of that promotion where all the plates on the kaiten belt are going for RM2.

Anyway, YES, we are getting to the crux of the story. BE PATIENT.

So we asked Huei Ying to come along. She was very reluctant. "Oh come on." we chorused. "Please, it won’t kill you." We pile into Preston’s car, and we go to Pyramid.

This story continues from Huei Ying’s point of view.

Oh no… It’s too big.. I hope it won’t hurt me… It’s my first time..Pls.. oh no.. I suppose I’ll have to get it over with, I can’t stand being the oldest person here and not have done it yet!! Jess and Jac and Shirley have all done it and they love it so much… Perhaps I will grow to like it as well.. if only it wasn’t SO big.. Perhaps  should have chosen another one.. (Like, huh?)

Then she sighs, opens it up and pushes it in. And nearly chokes. We laugh.  Finally, she screws up her face and holds it in her mouth. "Swallow it.. come on."  She does what we say. We clap and I announce, "You are officially no longer a sushi virgin."

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…………………..

Urm. You should have been there to observe the situation. I’m not sure I did it enough justice.

And THAT! is the main lesson I’ve learned throughout my time in MUSA. No matter how much effort you put in, there will always be someone who will not be satisfied with what you do. I remember when I was in Girl Guides during secondary school, the campfire we started got out of hand, and the eggs we gave to the students as souvenirs were used as missiles. As Troop Leader, I remembered feeling like a microscopic, worthless speck of dust, even though most people said they enjoyed themselves.

Fast forward 4 years, and I’m facing the same situation again. We initially booked one half of the grand ballroom for our Ball, thinking that we wouldnt be able to get more than 40 tables. However in the 3rd week of ticket sales, all tickets were sold out and there were 10 more tables on the waiting list. Not wanting to turn away people who wanted to go, we decided to open up the other ballroom into a bigger one. However, that caused the seating table arrangement to get screwed up, as in a bigger ballroom the arrangement of tables are different than in the squeezed, smaller room. We tried to make things easier for those tables who were placed into shitty positions, but we knew that not everyone could be satisfied. In view of that, I tried to make things easier by getting the event management company to provide a 9′ by 12′ screen to be used as live feed, for those who may not be able to see the stage. However, the students won’t know that til they come for the Ball, so before that, the Ball crew had better brace themselves for hell.

This is so saddening. I do hope that the students will understand that this is something we could not avoid, and that if there was a slight possibility of improving the situation, I would have done it. Neither am I fairy godmother, who can wave a wand and make problems go away. I’m still a normal person, who also feels the heat sometimes. I’ve not gone for classes these two weeks. Everyday stuff crops up, little fires have to be put out. Sigh.

Anyway, what I want to say is… To my crew, thanks alot for coming this far together. Please hold on a little while longer and lets give this one shot all we’ve got. To the rest who are going for the Ball, please do understand us, we have our limitations to what we can achieve for you, but rest assured, we will give you our best.

P.S:- To mom, sorry for not taking your calls lately. I’ll come home this weekend, I promise.

See there is a reason why I usually do not post mega personal stuff in a blog; it’s bound to be read by everyone. Seriously considered taking down that previous post, but then someone mentioned to me that there would be no point then in writing a blog if you filter your thoughts and feelings when writing. Emotions should be raw, memories real, that’s what makes Life so interesting. (also frustrating, exhilarating, boring, exciting, suspenseful, etc) However I don’t believe that there will be such posts like the previous anymore, although I don’t feel it is childish to vent feelings, but if it is a precursor to a bigger explosion, the whole world would be best off not knowing about it. it would be like those hong kong dramas they show on tv….

Anyway, will be having a group presentation meeting later at 10, following which I am free to do whatever I choose. Only I am FREE to choose one option, (trying to give the illusion that I have a choice) which is to finish up writing in the Ball booklet to give to Dutts ASAP. Poor Dutt Way!! He really deserves a mention as he has been juggling Ball duties, with MONGA duties and his assignment as well. Hope everything will be fine soon………

It’s 9:11 again. Funny how I always happen to look at my clock when it hits 9:11, regardless of am or pm. Toodles.

Yup. That’s what I am. How else can I feel with a guy who always seems to misunderstand every word I say, gets pissed after he misunderstands, and seems to think he’s right ALL the time. And even when it’s CRYSTAL clear that he’s in the wrong, it’ll take forever for an apology to come. Yet when I trip up abit and make a mistake, he’ll demand I admit that I’m wrong a thousand times. And I usually never get one from him. It’s usually a diversion of conversation away from the topic. Ask me what kind of guy this is a year ago, and I would have said egotistical fathead.

To be fair, I do make mistakes some times but I do apologize. It is only when I don’t apologize that I feel that I did not do anything wrong to deserve such violent outbursts towards me. Usually I keep quiet. Because I believe that shutting up is better than letting it all out, in cases of minor irritations. It’s like a small mozzie bite, after a little scratch or two, it goes away. However, what I can’t stand is that when I keep quiet, I get accused of starting an argument. Like huh? I kept quiet to AVOID an argument because I feel it is stupid to argue over small stuff, yet I find myself accused of starting the yelling match. To me, silence is a great way to avoid confrontation, as a person can’t have an argument all by himself. Therefore, when it comes to an issue I feel not worth wasting my breath over, I will be quiet. So don’t misunderstand and think I’m blaming you for every single thing that’s going wrong in my life, or for not doing anything, because I’m not.

Wow, I actually blogged about this. That would actually mean that it’s kinda serious to deserve a mention in my blog. Some contemplation must be done. Nothing can survive when two people are too alike; when a calculator is used instead of the heart.

My soul is tortured. I feel like a sword of uncertainty is slicing through my body, leaving me writhing in spasms of nervousness. Talking to Shao Siang who got the Shell Gourami thing didn’t reveal any encouraging result. I think I’m not gonna get it. WAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!! I’ll just let myself sink into the aforementioned hole of depression now. I can’t take it anymore.   :(