18 til I Die

Life. Is best served chilled. Best enjoyed before its sell by date. Best lived when its fresh, and young and excited and happy and hopeful. This thought came to me when I was sitting on my sofa in the darkening evening light (i know, whats with me and evenings right) waiting for Daniel to come fetch me for his birthday makan-fest.

Mostly, we let time pass us by as we worry, and stress over things that have been, or yet to be. But on Saturday, we played. Ok, almost everyone played while a few of us were the ‘budak jaga beg’..

Almost everyone had fun..

Almost. Everyone.

The heat was terrible and it made me nauseous. I did not go on any of the rides. Well, I did stick my butt in the wave pool and the slow round pool, but those are not rides.

So after everyone showered, Dan reminded all of us about his steamboat dinner thingie and so 12 ravenous wildcats hit the steamboat joint. We were all busy tucking in, except for Daniel, who was worried about his hair.

YUP. The chlorine did something weird to it. It definitely should not look so poky.

*and so he fled to the nearest mirror*

Sigh. And you say we girls are vain.

Ok, so maybe abit. I don’t know who thought it was cool to pose with an empty ice cream bowl, but it seemed funny at that time.

On another note, I’m thinking about a close friend right now. Feeling guilty about not meeting up with her. Especially at such a time. Can my ffk timing be any worse?

I’m sure everyone has at least one of them. But you’d be hard pressed to find a person who has two of them, and at such close proximity too. I’m talking about friends. Those ‘one-of-a-kind’ friends that you could not find a duplicate of anywhere, not even a close similarity. But I guess a bunch of us have been blessed, because Daniel, Gerel, Nat, Jason and I can safely say we have two in a million. These two friends of ours have their own personal quirks that make them so unique, which makes being their friend all the more special. But usually it’s hilarious.

This is Shirley. She’s a real darling, but unfortunately, rarely is she on the same ‘channel’ as everyone. When everyone goes left, she goes right. She used to own newts, but doesn’t anymore because they all willingly jumped out of her room window and committed suicide rather than live out their lives with her. Despite that, her lifelong aim is to open a zoo. Her voice changes pitch so often that if you were to graph the changes on paper, it would like a graph of the stockmarket right before a bust. But besides all that, she works harder than any of us, and has such a sweet temper to boot.

Next…

Usually he does not look so ‘Brokeback Mountain’; most of the time his clothes are a mismatch. But we still love him, disgusting pink shirt and all. Usually also he does not smile so demurely; this smile is reserved for occasions when he wishes to buaya girls and show them he is a Sensitive New Age Guy. Too bad girls, this guy is already taken. By the equally pink guy next to him. His favourite words are ‘ma de’, ‘tu lan’ and ‘tiu’. When he talks, please stay away from him as his accompanying hand gestures can whack you silly. Generally, when he needs opinions, he will go around asking everyone and will not be satisfied until he gets the ’sample answer’. Here’s a tip: Only Gerel has the key to the vault of ’sample answers’ to make our Eric happy. So if he asks you "Do I look good in contact lenses?", don’t say "I can’t see your eyes wor". Or if he asks "Does this shirt look good?", please don’t say no unless you want to be stuck for another hour with him. Just suggest that he wears the dark blue/light blue/beige color one (cos those colors look good on him) Other than that, he is a true blue friend, ready to bail you out, to teman you anytime you want, and to give (me) souvenirs when he goes for holidays. Our president. Yes.. the balloon.

Eric and Shirley also happen to be friends. No, more than friends. She is his Vice President who sits less than one meter away from his desk, and is the only one who has to share a room with him. So, what happens when two one-in-a-million people get together? Sparks. Nope, not the tingly i-wana-fuck kinda sparks between a new couple, but the sparks created by two stones being clobbered together by some old Stone Age man to start a fire. (as contributed by Daniel)

Shirley and Eric are in the back seat of the car. Shirley goes out to the ATM, and when she gets back into the car, she flings her bag inside before getting in, without seeing where she threw it.

"Why you simply throw your bag and hit me?"

*argueargueargueargueargueargue all the way to sevenatenine*

awhile later… while crossing the road… Eric as a gesture of kindness makes to guide Shirley across…

"Oi why you push meee!!"   

(as narrated by Gerel and Dan)

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On another occasion….. everyone is stuck in the car with them.. again. Nowhere to run..

According to Natalie.. they were *argueargueargueargue* about she forgot what.. Then Eric asks..

"Eh.. why this car suddenly so quiet wan??"

err… who dare to talk when you two are arguing….

Then he continues..

"Ehh.. who wana go Beijing with me?? End of this year.. quite cheap lehh.."

Shirley (who is still angry with him) : "You go yourself la."

Everyone else: ……………………….. (Natalie secretly records their argument)

Speaking of Beijing, Eric is looking for someone to join him on a backpacking trip. His aim: To backpack from the beginning of the Great Wall to the end. He thinks its perfectly normal and when everyone told him that the Great Wall is ruined in a few parts, he insists that "The National Geographic fella did it before! Can wan!"

Well Eric dear, the National Geographic guy had a helicopter. And 6000km is quite a distance to walk.

Girls listen up! As one of the Monash Ball main sponsors, Clinique is coming to Monash to conduct a makeup and skincare workshop, 22nd August, 4-6pm @ MUSA MPR. It’s free, and they will be giving away goodie bags full of vouchers worth up to RM400 plus a makeup set to every participant. The catch? Is to sign up as soon as possible. Registration opened today at 4pm, and already almost half the spaces are gone. Limited to 50 girls. Drop by MUSA office and look for Shirley, Natalie or me.

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Jessica had some invites to some makeup event in Loft at 8pm and my darned Malaysian studies only ended at 630. Rushed like some mad cow to get ready but ended waiting for.. SHIRLEY!! at the taxi area for half an hour. 745 pm came and we were still outside Sunway Condo as no bloody cabbie would take us anywhere. Sigh, kiss goodbye to the free makeover, free manicure and free hairdo that Jess promised us… so we drowned our sorrow in chawanmushi and sake sushi @ Genki.

Got back home and realized that the Pussycats were still doing their howling on the fence thing. So I listened to them for awhile. I had quite an unobstructed view and amazing sound effect, minus the sweaty bodies and minus the pushy security boys. 

Yup. Good view….

Indeed.

It would have been better if I could actually see who was singing, but .. no matter. Singers sing, and you don’t have to see them to appreciate their music.

And I’m not saying here that I like the Pussycat Dolls. Cos frankly, all I heard tonight from them was "We love you Malaysia!!!"

Oh God. Puh-leaze.

I have a terrible tendency to skive class. Although this is week 2 and the amount of classes skipped is not that shocking, YET, I shudder to think of what will happen if my slothfulness drags on til week 7 or week 8. Somebody, kick me. Please.

Durian makes me want to puke, and roti canai makes me salivate. It used to be the other way round.

That day I paid RM1.50 to MBC to get my IFM book wrapped. It was done quite well, so I went back there again a few hours later to get the Treasury book wrapped as well. But that was RM1.50 down the drain because I could have done a better job myself. I ended up cutting cellophane to reinforce the plastic flaps on both covers, and basically just trying to close one eye to that horrifically wrapped book. I was curious, so I asked the girl who was wrapping:-

"Don’t you wrap your own books?"

"I do.. but, he he he, this one is not my own book mar.."

I really don’t want to think about what she meant by that.

My apartment has been a veritable nunnery ever since I moved in. All of us are girls, which helps slow down the deterioration of cleanliness of the place. The off side is that it is noisy. Imagine being woken up at 11pm to a 5 person chorus of Kuch Kuch Hota Hai. And followed by a multicultural concert of Bangladeshi and Indonesian songs. I’m all for the appreciation of music and cultural diversity and such, but not in the middle of the freaking night.

But it’s still tolerable compared to the drawer banging I used to get in Australia. Anyway, I just heard a male voice in the living room. It’s worth putting my clothes on to go out and investigate.

Before I say anything, I have to say this:-

Happy Birthday BigBirdEgg! Otherwise known as Daniel Tan, or known to his friends as Dan.

Also the Monash Engineering Students Society President.. jeez I only knew that recently even though I’ve known him for yonks.. His surprise was a bit anti climax cos he actually saw somebody desperately trying to light the candles on his cake through the tinted glass door of the MUSA office before I could even open the door. Nevertheless, he was TOUCHED.

Note the glassy glint in his eyes.

Here are the boys. Stephen is in the wrong picture. He should be in THIS ONE.

And because we gave him the cake, he is taking us all out for dinner. Dontcha just love this dude? haha…

On another note, the most ‘HUH’ thing happened today. Natalie asked me to accompany her to a hair salon for a sponsorship meeting. The supervisor told us to go there between 1-2pm. So we jolly-ly walked into the salon, and Nat gave her name card, only to have us kicked out on our butts. "Oh sorry, we can’t sponsor you because we have already sponsored other universities."

Kanasai. Then you ask us go all the way there for what.

Got back from Midvalley just now and dozed off for awhile. And I know I’m gonna get crap for saying this, but I dreamt I was back in Melbourne, walking up Collins Street.. to work. Jeez I must be dying to go back. I swear that mirage of grass on the other side sure looks greener no matter which side I’m on. And Jamie, who’s applying for her PR now, is thinking of coming back. Like, what is wrong with you, girl? I’m here thinking how to bail ship, and you’re actually contemplating coming onto a sinking one?!?!

Sigh. Anyhow, I’ve got about 3 months or so to think about what to do.

Came across The Face Shop while strolling around Midvalley. It’s like Sasa except that it is a stand alone brand by itself and imported from Korea at such affordable prices. And judging by the tester I tried on, it’s lipgloss has the same texture as the one I normally use but just ran out of:- Benefit, which I got in LA and simply cannot find here. So I’ll just use this til I get to Benefit end of this year.

————

Am looking at Jason’s calendar on his table. It’s made by those Chinaman engineering companies that have the creativity of a moose such that they have to put pictures of bikini-clad girls on every page for every month. If I’m your customer, I’d rather see the latest solenoid or the latest thermosyphon or whatever you all manufacture rather than some boobies that I can’t even place an order for.

Miss July is in a fuchsia pink bikini and believe me, I have mentioned this weird taste in calendars to Jason and guess what he said exasperatedly? "It’s JUST A CALENDAR DEAR!"  I see. Then how come there is a Lafarge Malayan Cement calendar next to the pink boobies calendar?

I rest my case.

Actually I think I kinda strayed off topic about the calendars. I noticed that for the days 17th July through to the 21st, there was a number in each of the boxes. It was 3 on the 17th, 2 on the 18th, followed by 3 on the 19th and 20th, and then 4 on the 21st. I got quite excited really, cos I recalled him telling me that he was trying to quit smoking.

So I thought the numbers was just him keeping track and trying to reduce the number of ciggies he fed into his respiratory system each day. Big fat hope.

When I asked him, he said, "Oh! That one ar! To keep track how many hours I work in the lab everyday so I can calculate my pay."

I am going to suffocate on secondhand smoke one day.

My hair’s all mussed up, fingers shaking as I press the lift button. Had no time to even put my clothes on properly before bolting. Just prayed that I did not look like I just woke up. Prayed that nobody saw me skipping out. This must have been the one thousand three hundred and thirtieth time I’m in this situation. But do I learn? Nope. The lift reaches the ground floor, and slowly I walk until I’m out of the gates. The adrenaline rush fades, and I’m home free. Until the next time this happens again.

———–

Amen, hallelujah. Big kisses to Sunway LAN’s Ms Meena. She managed to find my Moral Studies transcript, thus liberating me from a slow and torturous death under this kooky Monash Moral lecturer who looks like a Pollyanna high on drugs. Poor Jason still has to go through that unpleasant experience.

I still have to go for Malaysian Studies though.

————–

The Ball certs are almost done. I wasn’t smart enough to scan my own signature into the computer and hence have to sign over 90 pieces of them. All that’s left now, though, is to send them certs over to the respective Heads for their second signature.

I’m so damn hungry. Feed me before I chew the certs to shreds.

Another ordinary day in this ordinary life. I’m tired, but I feel like I have not done enough today to be able to go to sleep satisfied.

Still trying to get my focus; looking for the northern star that will guide me through my remaining days at university. I dare not think of what lies beyond, as I’ve learnt these few days that too much hope can be dangerous.

Jason says I have to do something about it. And I will.

But not now. Let me linger awhile in this limbo. This suspended state of being. Let me go to sleep thinking I will solve all my problems tomorrow, or the day after. Or maybe the day after the day after tomorrow.

I look to my bed and I see my teddy. Max. Just that day Jason remarked how ironic it was, the fact that Nick gave me Max as a present and now he was the one hugging Max together with me. Anyhow, it’s only me and Max together tonight. Just like those cold nights in Australia when I felt sad and alone, and hugging him was the only thing that kept me from all out crying.

I sound like some kid attached to a soft toy, but this is not about that. This is about having something, or someone, you can always always count on. To just be there. No questions asked. No advice given.

So far, I’ve only found those traits in a teddy bear.

It’s time to quieten down. Tonight, I feel like a child getting ready for bed. Pull back covers, peek quickly under bed to make sure nothing’s there, then arrange bolster, pillow and bear to form protection barriers around me.

Goodnight, world.

The MUSA office saw an inordinate amount of laughter and cackles yesterday. It was all over an inane object, a balloon. But with a few deft strokes of a permanent marker, Jason transformed it into something (or shall we say, someone) entirely different. Joanne has already blogged about it and I don’t think I can do it better justice. Go to her post here.

Here are a few close up shots, and one angle that Joanne missed.

Eric now sits in the document in-tray, next to the fan. Everyone else is using the President’s desk except the President.

I’m back to my old habits. Walked out on Ergun Dogan babbling something about Y being a function of K, L and T. Samantha is a bad, bad influence on me; if it wasn’t for her, I may have stuck around until the end of the lecture.

I honestly wish it were him, and not Ali Saleh, who left the uni.

I walked past the foyer just now and noticed something funny about the guards. They were wearing white gloves, and some of them had this horrendous white fluffy monstrosity perched on their caps. From afar it looked like a bar of soap or a rectangular sponge was protruding upwards from their hats. Jeez, the atrocious humiliations the poor guards are subjected to whenever a Big Shot comes to officiate something or other.    

Ok, WHAT is the deal with the pussycat dolls? Other than the delicious sounding name and the strategically-exposed assets of its members, I see no other reason to get so.. so.. so goddam fluffy about it. Don’t get me wrong, this is no ‘jealous girlfriend’ rant.. but honestly, who in their right blinkers would pay a hundred bucks to see them in concert? Apparently Jason would. And maybe Aries too.

Its evening, and from the sofa of the apartment I can see the lights of Sunway Lagoon starting to come on. At 17 floors above the ground, the wind is pretty cool. I’m afraid of heights, but I like living high up. Looking out over a view gives you a sense of calm, especially in the tranquil dusk light when the pace of life drops considerably. Aaaah…

I’m thinking about what someone said to me today. Sometimes I feel I know where I’m going, and am confident about all that I’m going to do. But at times like these, I doubt. Doubt my ability, doubt fate, doubt my luck. Staring out into the evening can lull you into a sense of disorientation sometimes, if you can get what I mean. False security, that’s what they say.