18 til I Die

Not if individualistic is taken in the context to mean original, and one of a kind. But if individualistic is taken to mean not bothering to tell your housemate about the bloody cut in water supply today for a good half day, then I’d say it’s kinda selfish wudn’t you? First I woke up this nice Friday morning (no class yeh!) to the sounds of kitchen drawers banging and pans clanking. Ok, I’m used to that, and can tune it out. But then a kinda pissed-sounding Syed calls to say he just found out that there is a supply cut today; finding out only after the water had been cut. Talk about too late. I get up to check my taps, and true enuff, after an initial promising jet of water, it then reduces to a pathetic trickle, and then to nothing at all. Syed, I share your sentiments. Nobody thought to remind me at all.

Saving grace is that Ming gave me some water to brush my teeth so I can at least show up in uni barely presentable.

I can’t cook without water. I know. I’ll go back to bed.. and turn my back on the world. And the non-existent water supply.

Still no font color. Bleaks. Bleary. Blub blub. Matches my mood, kind of. I have been down these few days. You know the times when you’re just not satisfied with what you are doing, wishing somehow you could do more, BE more than who you are right now? Or maybe invent a new item, like a tv doubling as a fridge (oh wait, that’s already been done, fridge doubling as a tv).. or just, achieve something. Be recognized for it. Stand Up. Stand Out. (that sounds familiar.. oh. the poppish MUSA catchphrase) Wallowed in a pool of self-misery and a tub of vanilla and macadamia gelato for the past two days. Just not knowing what to do with myself.

I think this general feeling of ‘blah’-ness can be attributed to the fact that I stuffed up my resume for Bain and Company, a consulting firm right up there with the Big Guys, by that I mean McKinsey, BCG yada yada. I have whined about it to countless people off my blog, so I’m not about to do the same thing to you. Basic fact remains: I stuffed up on the layout. Big time. So much that my perfectly well-rounded achievements (not being pompous, but it’s a given that you have to be good to even consider applying) couldnt make up for it.

You may be thinking, "so what if your resume got dinged the first time?" But hey, to moi, it’s a diff ballgame altogether. Maybe I’m too used to having things come easy. To have things go smoothly all the time, to get that interview, to get that scholarship. I’m not trying to say woh me smart, me good and all… but I can say, Ive been luckier than most. So when the shit hits the fan, I don’t even bother to run from under it. Cos somehow I think it wont fall on me. Somehow. But things are getting tougher now. You have to compete. You gotta have a perfectly worded, perfectly presented CV out of the thousands that apply to the pool of elite investment banks and consulting firms. I’ve revamped my CV layout millions of times, written gazillions of cover letters. It’s gotta stand out, but not too much that its gets dinged.

This frustration just boils down to the fact that Im addicted to achievement. No matter what, I just have to achieve something worthwhile. It is a good aim, somewhat lofty though, but when it gets to the point where you feel like a complete worm if you’re not doing something earth-shaking, or impressively astounding, then I’d say it’s .. well.. an addiction. "We are what we are"?? No way. It’s "We are what we achieve." And right now, what I want to achieve is a job, a great job, before graduation.

On a side note, Huei Ying also helped me submit my resume to CIMB, u noe, Malaysian investment bank, taking over SBB soon? Apparently its quite competitive there, too. Average HD or high average D. I don’t even want to look at my transcript. Scared I don’t make the cut. I may be a low average D or maybe just hit 75, but I don’t wanna think about it right now. I’d hang myself.

So it was with a gloomy mood that I went with Yvonne to the Golden Key Networking Wine and Cheese session just now. Bleh, i was thinking, socializing again. Not now. Not when I’m in the pits. But its really funny, how you pretend to like talking and asking inane questions, and suddenly you find yourself actually laughing and swapping stories with people you didn’t even know until two hours ago. And knowing me, once I start, I can’t stop. Talking, I mean. bla bla here, blabla there.. oh, entrepreneurship? omg i cud never do that.. oh really, so what are you doing now? … wow thats amazing.. and yada yada yada.. amidst the clinking of wine glasses and paper plates of cheese and finger foods. I must admit, the socializing did do me good. Took me out of my rut. Can’t say if it’s permanent, but it sure helped.

Now I probably should get addicted to finishing up my assignment.

I’m Sickkkk!! I’m paralysed!! I’m dyinggggg…..

The pain clouds my mind. I try to relax my muscles and forget about the dull ache that has magnified into a pain of abysmal proportions. Ever since I got hit in the back by the toilet door that Amit shoved open without even stopping to check if anyone was inside, I’ve been writhing in agony. Ok, it sure sounds as if I’m at death’s door or something, but I always tend to be a drama mama when I’m in pain.

It all started the morning after the horse riding. I woke up hurting everywhere. I think I pulled a muscle in my back; consequently I hobbled around the house the whole day. And after Amit hit me in the back with the door, I had to lie down in bed for 2 and a half hours doing absolutely nothing. Just stare at the ceiling, look left and right. And missed class.

Benci.

My blog font color button is not working. Now I can’t colorize my words. Now I’ll have to write doubly better to ensure you guys get the full experience of what I’m going to say. Or maybe I should hold off writing this post until Friendster fixes it. Or maybe not. Whaddaya say to a challenge? Ahhah!

Was quite involved the past few days in stupid everyday things such as uni and studies, except for the weekend where a couple of us took off to Mornington Peninsula for a terribly exciting road trip. And as you will find out, a terribly PAINFUL one too.

As an introduction, Mornington Peninsula is Southeast of Melbourne on the map, and about an hour’s drive from Clayton. We were supposed to meet at 12pm at Chadstone. BIG MISTAKE. Cos it was the first day of the David Jones sale and we ended up leaving for Mornington at 330pm with extra bags, and me a hundred dollars poorer even before the trip started. Eh cannot resist, lah.. I mean, where in this whole wide UNIVERSE can you buy a pair of Miss Sixty and Tommy Hilfiger sportshoes for 60 bucks each??! U see? U comprende now why I had to spend that moneyyy?? The ‘cannot-miss-a-good-bargain’ people would definitely agree with me. Plus, I conjured up a really good excuse to buy them.. i hadn’t brought sneakers with me cos i didn’t plan to do any horse-riding, which was on the menu for the weekend. But I changed my mind halfway through lunch at the David Jones food court and hence had a valid reason to buy shoes. Never you mind that it was two pairs…

Anyhoos, upon reaching Flinders, the astonishingly cute and quaint little town (u noe those that only has a Main Street), we drop our bags at Suanie’s (ok to cut a story short, he is yvonne’s dad’s friend but we think he’s so cool he doesn’t deserve the ‘Uncle’ title) and go for a breathtaking walk around the hills and the beach. Then dinner was at a bakehouse where I had the best pizza I’ve ever tasted and the best lemon tart EVER! EVER! EVER! evereverevereverever…

<— All hail Chef Simon! Knight of the Pizza! Master of the Lemon Tart! Oh.. and all hail the Oven!

The 3 of us girls squished and squashed ourselves into a suspiciously small looking sofa bed, whereby as the night wore on, sylvia nudged yvonne, causing yvonne to encroach on my space and me hanging half off the bed til morning. Oh but I unknowingly retaliated by pulling the blanket away, leaving sylvia shivering. Poor Yvonne in the middle.

Sunday dawned bright and sunny, and we happily breakfasted along Main Street before our riding at 11. You know what beginners luck is? Well, I don’t. Cos frankly I’ve never had it whenever I tried anything for the first time. Play chor tai ti also lose, play poker also die. Same went for this first horse-riding experience.

My horse’s name is Charlie. Charlie is a medium sized horse, and looks pretty tame, but we all know looks can be deceiving. As soon as I mount him, he promptly heads for the luscious grassy spot by the trees and bends down to eat. I slide forwards and nearly topple off. I start freaking out cos Charlie ignores all my frantic tugs at the reins to make him go join the group of horseys which are preparing to leave. It was pretty embarassing, but I whined to Suanie that I wanted to get down.. I din want to ride anymore.

Seeing as I was on the verge of a hysterical fit, and Yvonne looks like she’s about to go into one as well cos her stupid horse is kinda like mine, Liz the kind old lady who owns the ranch tied our two stupid mules to her big horse. So we basically tailed her and didn’t need to use our reins for the first part of the ride. We went into the woods following a sandy trail.. Liz let Yvonne’s horse loose first, and after awhile, I got up the courage to ride alone. Idiot Charlie knew I was a bloody weakling. So the moment Liz sets him free, he trots away from the group to.. yes, you guessed it right, a patch of delicious grass. I’m so sick of arguing with a horse, that I just sit there and wait for him to finish eating. The others slowly disappear in the bushes. Then Charlie has to run to catch up. And where does that leave me? Bouncing uncomfortably up and down while greedy Charlie races to reach the rest of the horses. My ride goes on in a cycle like that, where Charlie stops, eats for about 5 minutes, then races. Then stops, eats, and runs. But overall, I’m glad he didn’t throw me off. We had an understanding, Charlie and I, where I’d let him eat all he wanted, and he promised not to let me fall.

<— we couldnt bring cameras on the ride, so we had to be contented with taking piccies at the stables—>

We stopped by at Sunny Ridge Pick-It-Yourself Strawberry farm for heavenly strawberry smoothies and ice cream.. and then drove up to Arthurs Seat, the tallest point in Mornington Peninsula. While we were there, Suanie started chatting to some bikers (that guy can talk to anyone!), after which they graciously let us pose with their bikes.

<— im a bad-ass biker chick! here me roar! (hahaha.. im delusional.. its more like, im a wuss who cant control a horse.. hear me squeak)

Oh I forgot to say that Wei Kiat joined us today for riding and all, coming down from Clayton that morning. So it was me and him, and Yvonne and Sylvia who took the chairlift down to the bottom of the hill from the peak of Arthurs Seat. It’s a chairlift. Not a cable car. I freaked for the 2nd time that day.

<–ignore wei kiat. He is just pretending.. whereas I am TRULY afraid of heights…—->

Once we get to the base, we take off for home. So that was my past weekend. Full of good food, good fun, and good shopping.. what more can a sane girl ask for?

—- penguins unite! oh did i mention Sylvia, Yvonne and I bought the same pair of Miss Sixty shoes?! —–

i love melbourne, yo.

And not to mention bad for your assignments/presentations/ tutorial work. Is there a Timewasters Anonymous branch in this suburb of Caulfield that I can join? I don’t like travelling anywhere by train or by bus or by foot unless it’s to go shopping or to have fun. Another exception is uni. Damn, I’m sounding more and more bimbotic every day. Shopping, shopping, shopping.

Honestly though, I cant help it. The shopping here is really good. I can find stuff that I like from Chadstone to Smith St. In Malaysia I can’t even get 3 things that I like even though MNG is having a crazy ass sale.

Did some pondering over my life yesterday. I seem to be doing that quite a lot here. (cos i have so much time) I graduate end of this year. This means a new life, new chapter. New (first!) job, new car, new pad… damn headache. HOW TO PAY FOR ALL THIS! As if my starting salary can cover.. assuming I fail to get a job at a consulting firm or investment bank, and have to work at like, EY, instead. No offence against EY and all, but I think the pay is seriously not commensurate with the job. And how does one survive with 2.2k in KL nowadays?!

This is my post-graduation to-do list:-

1. Go to L.A for Christmas, visit sis, get office wardrobe. Go back to San Francisco and eat at Fog CitY Diner again.

2. Confirm job offer (no actually, my aim is to land a job by august) and starting date.

3. Get new pad near office.

4. Grovel at mummy’s feet for more downpayment on new car.

Items 1. and 2. are do-able, but in the case of the 3. and 4., I’ll prolly end up staying in Aunt Suz’s apartment in Sunway as a ‘tukang jaga rumah’ and to holler if anyone breaks in. Mummy will prolly make me sign a loan contract with her. For a measly 10k. Bleh.

Actually I can make a downpayment myself if I didn’t have to pay my own school fees next semester.

This morning I woke up wondering what’s Malaysia’s medal count. Probably zero gold kua, I thought, while pottering around the kitchen. My housemate confirmed soon thereafter that they were around 1 medal short of a double digit. Meaning 9 medals. I was pleasantly surprised. This kinda shows the sort of pessimism that is associated with anything Malaysian nowadays. Except of course, the wonderful mamak food that I still salivate after in my dreams.

I was swayed by the argument of "how can you be in melbourne yet not watch commonwealth games" and hence dutifully bought a ticket for badminton, the only sport whose rules I understand, and where Malaysia stands a chance of winning. Don’t talk to me about squash. Nicol sudah ‘balik kampung’. And count me out of stuff like weightlifting and shooting. Yawn.

We decided to go really early to book good seats, so we reached Melb Exhibition Centre at 3 pm. Well, we weren’t the first to arrive. The damn Singaporeans beat us to it. Anyhoos we still managed to get one of the best seats in the joint, with good lighting and at a perfectly elevated row so we could see all 3 courts, with the best view of the 2nd court where all Malaysia games would be played.

First game was Singapore against some mat salleh country. So we supported our neighbours. From then on, we cheered for Aussie cos it’s like, we’re in their country and since it’s provided me with good shopping so far, I’m pretty happy yelling for them. Then came Malaysia vs India. Our side wielded Wong Choon Han and Choong Tan Fook; and that’s when the entertainment and suspense really started. The pace picked up with that game. One notable moment was when Choon Han or Tan Fook, I cant remember who, tried to ‘action’ and hit the shuttlecock with some drama pose which really drew impressed oohhs from the crowd. Haha, but then they lost the point 5 seconds after that.

The India dudes were like some cili padi’s lah, one fella keep on smashing all the time. But in the end, Malaysia finished them.

We waited until around the end for the Women’s doubles to be played, and only cos we thought Wong Mew Choo would be playing. However, it turned out to be Julia Wong. (tak pernah dengar pun) But since they were playing against North Ireland, Malaysia also sapu them la. This is the first and last game of the Commonwealth that I will watch though. My heart just cannot ‘tahan’ the suspense. Nearly died watching a particularly tense part between Msia and India in Men’s Doubles.

A couple of Malaysians were there with the flag, and took to running around like screaming like banshees when it was announced that we won. At times like this you do feel a bit proud to hold the flag lah, so I did. Pinjam from one guy and took this picture.

i dun even noe his name… heh heh..

Also bought some souvenirs which I think will run out before the Games end; a water tumbler and a notebook. I figure I can get the rest like keychains after the Games when they’re selling it off cheap. So dun worry peeps in Msia, you will get something!

I end with this picture. The funniest of the lot that I snapped.

Tan Fook: Oi, return the serve lah!

Choon Han: How to return?! You hit until duno go where!!

At first I considered giving this couple some face by not putting it up, but then suddenly when I thought of them I got irritated all over again, so I don’t care. Moreover, their faces are not shown so nyehnyehnyeh..

Location: AFF 3331 International Banking and Finance lecture.

Topic discussed: Balance of Payments (very serious subject.. needs supreme thought processing and concentration)

This stupid couple sat in front of me and started their nonsense. First I had to endure the girl feeding the guy KFC popcorn nuggets. Had to endure the sight, and the smell, cos I was hungry. Then the idiot guy is not contented with just eating the chicken, cos since it’s ‘finger lickin good’, he has to lick and suck her fingers as well. wtfjkfklakefyejh!!!

This is a lecture theatre, you horny idiots. Besides the fact that I’m insanely jealous cos my boyfriend is not here for me to feed him KFC popcorn chicken, THIS IS A LECTURE THEATRE. I’m righteously indignant, call me prim and proper but to me, the lecture theatre is like the sacredest of all sacred places, and horny touchings and watever craps are absolutely sinful. Although I don’t consider a car, a train or heck, any other place, off limits though. I think I’m just nitpicky when it comes to anything to do with studying. It’s like, my lucky pen is sacred, nobody can use it besides me cos I’ve been using it in exams since like UPSR, and I think most of my A’s have to be credited to it. And like, my books are holy too, I don’t put them on the floor and anywhere that is below my chair or bed level. Basically, the higher the better. Ok ok, you get the point.

Anyway, the lecturer starts talking about current account deficits. But these two start another type of ‘conversation’ altogether. Through the crack between their two seats, I can see the girls hand reach over to the guy’s side, and her elbow and arm start moving… eeeeeee…. my hair starts standing on end. I show Yvonne, but judging from her puzzled look, I don’t think she understood what I was trying to show her.

I must make sure i don’t sit behind couples ever again.

I’m trying to see as much as I can of Melbourne and Victoria while I’m here, so I’m kinda jumping at any chance to go anywhere, do anything. Except sky diving and bungee jumping. A bunch of us joined the Exchange Club day trip to Philip Island yesterday, although only Stella went surfing, as the surf class was full. At first I thought ‘oh nvm i can go walking through the town, maybe shop’… and then we reached Smiths Beach. Which is very far from the town. *cry* the only place that sold stuff was a rickety old convenience store, which also sold hamburgers to go. I think beaches are cool and stuff. Feels nice to just laze around and doze. But I kinda have a thing against sand. I hate it. They get everywhere.

Stella left me in charge of her video cam, so I amused myself by filming a Smiths Beach documentary. It included Stella tripping over her surf board, Stella and some girl doing some Pirates of the Caribbean staring out to the sea kind of pose, and ME.

Then I got bored. I mean, there’s really nothing to do on a beach. So I do this..

*snoreeeeeee*……..

yvonne and sylvia do the same thing…

That’s how we spent 3 hours. Just lie there doing nothing. It was soooo tiring. Finally after the surf class ended, and thankfully before I got bored out of my mind, the bus took us to civilization. I immediately went hunting for food. We sit outside some fish n chip place, and then I saw this cool sign.

Haha. Get the message? Anyway, it was meant as a joke. Although I might consider Tiffany’s. Or De Beers. But not Poh Kong or Habib Jewels. Sheesh wat am i crapping.

Finally we come to the main aim of me going on this trip. To see the oh-so-talked-about-die-die-must-see penguins. It’s like one of those things you just HAVE to do if you are in Victoria, right up there with going to Great Ocean Road. When I step inside the welcome area, I kinda sense something is not right. Starting with this sign.

Can you see what is wrong? The number 45 minutes. Meaning I had to wait. Boy, I was going to find out just how long that wait was. At that time I snapped the picture, I was also thinking, what if the penguins decided to stop over at Smiths Beach, and not come here at all? Wohh.. dun wana think about it.

Then I found out that to see the penguins come ashore, we had to sit outside on a raised arena somewhat like those stadium or cinema seats, facing the beach. An outdoor arena. I was like, do you know how cold it is out there?!?!?! And there I was happily thinking that I’d paid for a nice luxurious indoor viewing area with glass panel, sitting in the warmth watching the penguins freeze their asses off outside.

Nope. Apparently, if you want to see the penguins, you have to make sacrifices. So we huddle together facing the incoming sea wind head on, praying desperately for the idiot penguins to arrive so we can get our money’s worth of watching them toddling to shore and then get the hell back into the visitor centre. And when they finally come, they’re so small all i can see are some black and white exclamation marks trotting on the beach. "Er why are they so small??" The answer I got: "That’s why they’re called the Little Penguins, dumbo." Which is true. I fact-checked it on a souvenir fridge magnet I got from the Visitor Centre.

Well, overall, to summarise what I think about this penguin shebang, go for it by all means if you’re the kiasu sort who just has to do everything possible associated with visiting Victoria (like me!). But skip it if you hate waiting, hate the cold, or hate penguins. Frankly, watching Nat Geo on tv would teach you more about the penguins. And better close-up shots of em, too.

I went for Ken’s memorial service yesterday. But I don’t want to talk about it. It hit me raw and I’m still not able to talk or even think about it. I remember asking Erikko to help me tell his parents in Japanese that we are sorry couldn’t have done more. And thats all I allow myself to think, and feel, for the moment.

————————————————————————

Meanwhile, life goes on, swiftly, unforgivingly. Today I sat with Ming at our kitchen island counter going through the Australian Financial Review, the Age and Economist trying to find a suitable article for her to use in her assignment. I think my housemates all knew what was up with me and my downcast puppy look I’d been wearing for 2 days. So I think in an effort to cheer me up, I was taken to Bridge Road for lunch and something correctly chosen to make me happier: Shopping. And not only shopping. Really DAMN good shopping.

This is the exhaustive list I ended up with at the end of the day. I think I was trying to take my mind off things (i just downloaded my group assignment question off webct and couldn’t understand the INSTRUCTIONS. like wtf) that I over-indulged. Bear with me while I show you just HOW MUCH i’ve over-spent.

2 turtlenecks, one sweater, and one black warm jacket from Esprit. And 3 black chiffon-y sequin-y dresses. DO NOT ASK ME WHY I NEED 3 BLACK DRESSES for. i just do, okay? all i know is, i will have 3 choices of what to wear to Monash Ball this year. go figure. maggi mee this whole week.

kang hui, you must come here since you like shopping. I’ll go find out where ALL the great shops are and I’ll take you on a specially-tailored-to-fit-your-small-size-blow-your-mind-out shopping thingamajiggie.

Aiyor. Damn guilty now. Ter-spent too much. Must go study to make up for it. That’s what I always do after shopping. Study. I wonder if that means I should shop more often?

I cannot believe this. I don’t want to believe it. You’re still so alive in my mind, I remember your face, us sitting down in Adidas waiting for the other guys to finish their shopping like some old grannies. We took pictures. You were sad, I know, you told me. But why did it come to this? We’re both on exchange, we both have the same chance to live a different life, to enjoy our precious time here.

This is the second time in a year I lost a friend to Death. Only this time it’s worse. HL didn’t choose to die, but you did. What makes it worse on all of us who went out with you that day, is the fucking guilt that we could probably have done more. We all knew you were sad. We all knew you had problems coping. We thought maybe just joking and laughing would bring you out of it. We just didn’t know it was that bad, Ken. If I knew then that you were going to do wat you did to yourself yesterday, I’d have punched you right there in Adidas. And yelled at you to fucking snap out of it. And then we could talk some more about it.

Maybe I should just remember you as how you were when we sat next to each other at that exchange program welcome dinner last month. You sounded excited, telling me all about Japan and asking me so many things.

I look around my friendster photos and my blog and I see you in those pictures. I can’t believe the fact that I’m going to your memorial service in Clayton tomorow.