Merry Boxing Day

Remember, if you haven't, get me a present because I just might have one for you.

Presents

I didn't actually want to buy a lot of gifts. But then, one gift leads to another and so on and on. I end up buying the most gifts in the family.

The budget was RM50. All the expensive gifts, gifts more than Rm10, are for family. Those for friends are all under RM3. But they are good.

I think that's something I've enjoyed, a lot. Shopping for gifts around RM1. Then, you have to get very creative. Also, the tags are great fun. A chance to be witty, festive and fun. Hahaha.

Im looking forward to Christmas.

Just Flat Incumbus

The spectre of the MOUNTAINTOP EXPERIENCE! You go to a Christian camp and your spirituality and relationship with God climbs. Preferably on the last day, you peak. Then on, its downhill all the way.

I just came back from a Youth camp. I didn't enjoy it. I don't feel any spiritual perk.

It just didn't work for me. Though I know it worked for others.

I didn't feel God. It was just me and the abyss. And when I looked into the abyss, the abyss looked back at me.

Movie

A quick note before turning in, I went to watch Space Chimps.

It is one-of-a-kind. Words cannot describe it. I suggest everyone watch it for an unforgettable experience.

Moochers Theorem

Finally, I put into writing the unofficial theorem that all like-hearted moochers around the world have always known. Perhaps you are a moocher the moment you are born. Or do you grow into one because of your environment?

We're talking about the laws of psychology and sociology here. I don't even know what those laws are. All I know is that mooching is the highest point of self-sufficiency that can be reached.

Mooching is not begging. Begging is asking for money. It is crude, rude and uncivilised. Mooching is an art.

The best moochers mooch without slipping out a word. A slight jerk to the hamburger of choice or a smile to the potato chips.

So here is the theorem:

You have go out with 8 friends and each friends buys a burger at McDonald's. From each friend you take a bite. One bite is equivalent to 1/8 of a burger. How much would you have eaten if you mooched a bite from every friend?

A whole burger! Plus, you would have eaten the most burger of all your friends because they would be left with 7/8 of their burger.

Young Writers' Camp

It's been almost one week since I've returned. Whatever after-camp hangover is over. So, I write this with a sober mind.

YWC 2008 was a writing camp. Last years camp was much more relaxed, we only wrote one piece in four days. This year, I wrote four pieces in as many days. Last year there were sessions and lots of play time. This year there were sessions and deadlines, stress and facilitators pointing to the clock, shaking their heads and asking you to hurry up.

Over the blood, sweat and hands of time we clambered to hand in our articles. Then we waited to see if it was published. Front page? Back page?

Throughout the camp I was always looking out for stories. There was no rest, there was no relent from the gnashing teeth of the newspaper!

But, I enjoyed myself.

I enjoyed writing. I enjoyed trying to find a story that nobody else would write about. I enjoyed laboriously trying to put it into words.

However, I suspect I might have liked writing so much because my pieces were published. I think some didn't enjoy it because they just weren't very interested in writing and they're articles were cut so they felt left out.

The Onion

A story I wrote in YWC:

There was once a tiny little onion bud. Luckily, for this onion bud, it had a really good farmer. Everyday the farmer would come and feed it water and fertilizer.

In the ground, the onion and its friends grew with the tender care of the farmer. They learnt the hardship and goodship of friendship. They matured with time and put on layers. Together, they grew.

Then, one day, they were plucked from the ground. They were shocked, but they trusted their farmer. They were carried into the big place where the farmer lived and put on a wooden board.

The farmer peeled them, then started to dice them. "Help! Ouch! Ow!" they screamed in their oniony voices. They didn't understand this, the farmer they trusted was hurting them! The farmer heard some pleading voices, shrugged and brought the knife down again.

In Flesh and In Blood

I got tickets! I got tickets! Actually, a tag.

A tag to the VIP seats. To the VIP seats for Federer's exhibition match. Federer's exhibition match!

I wasn't invited, yet. I went with a friend. There was a VIP hospitality area with gilded furniture an a whole buffet to eat. But, it wasn't that good anyway. The food was only so-so.

We got court side seats. Court side seats! Closer that ten steps from the players. Close enough to see the hair on their legs!

For me, what was intoxicating was to see them up close, in flesh and blood, in person. This was the Federer. The Roger Federer that kept me up till four am, watching him play that final in Wimbledon. Its bizarre.

Sprinkle some stardust on me.

Geez.

I also got to see Najib's wife. They went onto the court to meet the players and she walked right by us. Close enough to shake hand. She's fat, massive. So big she was teetering and tottering. On the way down, she stumbled. Three men held her.

Tropic Thunder

Give it a chance. I didn't like it either on my first viewing. But the movie is like wine or pu-er tea. It ferments to become better. You start with something that feels wasted, let it rot a bit and end with a very hilarious show.

Up there with Blades of Glory and Hot Fuzz.

Also, I realized I have only written 20 posts this year. Shame.

To Readers

Please feel free to leave comments.

The Management

More About Me

Instructions:
Bold the statements that are true to you.
Italicize the statements that you wish were true.
Leave the fibs alone.
Then, stab 5 people to do the same test


I’m 170cm tall.
I don’t know what I want at the moment.
I’m not happy.
I hate my friends.
I hate my life.
I hate my grades.
He drives.
I’m bored of driving.
I have a white handbag.
I love dancing.
I go clubbing every week.
Shopping is bullshit.
I have a tatoo of a star.
I got my navel pierced.
I have friends that take drugs.
90% of my friends smoke.
I still hang out with my ex, even though our break up was rather nasty.
I'm studying fashion.
I have a business running.
I hate cartoons.

I hate someone.
I have 10 Guess handbags.
I buy CLEO every month.
My parents don't know about my blog.
I have an iPod.
I don’t have faith in the current “one”.
My school mates know about my blog.
I wanted to be a fashion designer.
I love rock emo bands.
I hate it when people cancel last minute meet ups.
I’m a rebel.
I’m starting to like wearing dresses.
I don’t believe in love.
High school's filled with drama.
My parents have faith in me.
I’ve bought shoes this month.
A blogger bitched about me before.
I hate sports.
I heart Italian food.
I hate meeting new people.
I hate nail polish.
The mother bear gives me hugs.
People should start appreciating me.
High school was the worst time of my life.
I have red hair.
One Utama is my second home.
I’m a guy.(sometimes?)
I’m scared of my Biology exam.
I hate vacations.
We’ll last.
I believe in long distance relationships.
I’m going to get high and smoke weed one day soon.
I’ve robbed an old lady.
I’m starting to like applying make-up.
I was a tomboy.
At times I think I still am a tomboy.
I love bitching about people behind their backs.
I still have a best friend.
I have a cat.
I hate surprise parties.
I hate planning parties.
I’m hot.
I’m a sinner.
I’ve got a DS light.
I have a Wii.
I can live without music.
Video games are a waste of time.
I miss the father bear.
I love being in love.
I know how to cook.
I have 100% freedom.
Boys are assholes.
I hate Math.
I love horror films.
I’m happy with what I have.
I slept in my parents’ room for 3 days after watching Scream when I was a kid.
My old friends keep in touch with me.
I don’t read newspapers.
The news is such a waste of time.
Blogging is a waste of time.
I hate animals.
I can’t live without make-up.
I curse like a pirate.
I’m happy with my 11 year old car.
I hate people that are smart.
I love Apple Juice.
I can’t drink for nuts.
I believe that everyone in their teens have lost their virginity.
I’ve got a new phone.
I’m going to get a new pair of shoes by the end of this month.
I love swimming.
I haven’t worked out since March.
I think I’m fat.
I love my friends and family.


ethan/ron/ii-ern/liesl/samuel

Dark Side of the Moon

We only see one side of the moon because the moon doesn't spin, revolve, change, turn upon its axis. We only see one side. The side the moon shows us.

The eyes are the window to the soul. All you see is this mask but behind this mask is a face, behind this face is a soul and most souls have become inherently troubled dark, damp and mouldy places. Left to fester, the shadows grow, creepers creep from the dark places.

People and their problems.

Yesterday, some people joined us for dinner. Dinners are supposed to be happy, laughing occasions. This was emotionally charged. Emotions spilled onto the table like guts and gore. Tears welled, voices rose and there were the insecure shouts of , "I'm alright. I'm okay." Of course you are.

I ran away into the madness and delved into my math. There the craziness couldn't touch me One plus one is two.

They say the world has changed. I would have called anyone insane who would rather put his child in school than homeschool. Now I don't know.

I used to think of homeschool as Excalibur to come swishing down upon the hard grease our inept education system. Like a hot sword through butter, the best of all solutions in this best of all possible worlds.

Now I don't think so. Recent experience has revealed to me that a lot of homeschoolers are cracks. So this makes schooling better than homeschooling? Nein. I also think a lot of schoolers are zombies.

Basically, a lot homeschoolers are the aliens from mars, they don't belong, and schoolers are zombies, without the spark of individuality that makes us human. One plus one makes two. So two is: Malaysia is full of kwaks.

Sometimes, I feel as if I'm going mad, my disillusionment with people and my faith.

Frodo says it all, "It's like the light and darkness are fighting inside me and, Sam, I don't know which is going to win." No, he didn't say that, but I think it fits.

Lord, deliver us from evil.

Laughing My Way Through Life

Not literally. Rather, just being able to let go and have a lot more fun.

Last year, I said that the most significant change to me was my new decision to laugh my way life. Some people frown, others scowl but I decided I wanted to laugh. I wanted to be an optimist who saw the glass as half full and then cracked up laughing because the water was just so funny.

Mental but great.

There are many kinds of laughter. Fake laughter, covering laughter, mean laughter and twinkling, genuine laughter. For me, the best kind is Dumbledore laughter. Twinkling, honest and the eyes quietly delighting in something. Morgan Freeman has this.

When I say I want to laugh, I want to either laugh hilariously or laugh like Dumbledore.

Optimists live longer than pessimists. I think its because pessimists see the all the bad in the world and have some kind of heart attack or lose the will to live. Optimists see all the bad but also see the good and how to get past the bad, finding a joy to live for rather living for fear of death.

I came to laughing my way through life because I decided that, if I had to go, I would go laughing. The worst way would be drowning the best, laughing till my heart stops and my veins burst.

Yes. That's how I would like to go. Or at least how I would like to live.

Not to worry or frown or scowl or scold but to laugh. To laugh and be amused by everything around me so that my last act will to have one last laugh with death.

When Ethan's Back

To get things rolling along again, I will write about our dear friend who went to NS and had probably the worst time in his life.

About six weeks ago, we had a sleepover at his place. After that I asked him if he enjoyed it. He replied, "I'll never be truly happy or truly enjoy myself until this whole thing is over." Well, it's over now. And has he been truly happy or truly enjoyed himself?

I don't know.

I don't know because I haven't met since his return.

But it's good to have back our sarcarstic friend. Now we wait and see how long the sympathy milk will flow for him, or whether he will stoop down to milk it.

A Boy (and his cookies)

Lord, may I never become one.

May I never become a boy? I am not a boy? Not a boy but A-Boy, someone whose main objective in life is to score A's whatever examination it might be.

Oh, I could. With me taking the IGCSE what-cher-may-call-it, full days fly by just studying, something quite alien to me.

Tsk. Tsk.

I'll continue much the way I am. The little imp that waltzes about upsetting toes and having a maniacally good time. A little like the joker maybe, just without the menace and violence. None of that for me.

On a less serious note, but more ominious, Ethan's going back to NS again. He's going back with a couple of tubs of chocolate-chip cookies to buy some more friends. For all his innocent lamb-ness he's either very afraid or milking as much affection and sympathy from us.

No Joy At 5am

I say this proudly. Proudly, but with a bittersweet, disappointed-ness. I watched the Federer-Nadal final live, the final that has had everyone who watched it gushing with shock and awe. The great Federer-Nadal final, or should it be Nadal-Federer?

Nadal won. That doesn't make me happy.

I was in the Federer camp and it was agonizing. The match spanned seven plus hours. Nearly five hours of play and about two hours of rain delay. The match was also truly superb.

But, it wasn't just great tennis, it was superb because of the emotional storm whipped up. In tennis, I am a very ardent supporter of anyone I decide to support. For five hours I was cheering, rooting, praying for Federer to win.

"Come on, Federer"

"Go, Roger"

So I stayed up till 5am and he lost in the end. Bleh.

Amber in a Vase

Today is my moms 45th birthday. So old! I keep getting flashes of the future when all this will be gone and I am living an adult life.

Anyway, because it's her birthday, we all got her a gift. My sister made her two shrinky-dinks earrings and my present to her was a vase. It was an IKEA vase that she had chosen, I wasn't even there when she had bought the vase.

I think she had a fine birthday. For breakfast she was treated to J. Co. Donuts by a friend. For dinner she was taken to a Korean Barbecue (RM50 for a few slices of meat!) by my dad.

Of course, I had to poke her a bit by asking if I could tag along. When she said no (in a kind, don't-want-to-hurt-your feelings-way) I go into self-pity. "I haven't had fine dining for suuuuch a long time."

But I really couldn't go anyway, since today is the deadline for two huge pieces of work, my portfolio and school. I was in cruise control until I found out I had a test to do I had overlooked. So it was rush, rush.

But I did everything on time, then I turned my attention to her present. How do you personalize something that you hadn't bought and that you saw second? It was a vase like a wine bottle. So I decided to fill it up with tea and cork it.

Did that. Gave it to her. But, it ended up with my sister and I drinking her tea.

More Expensive Fuel Please

I am an environmentalist. I am probably the only real environmentalist I know. Like Lisa Simpson in The Simpsons Movie, I go around knocking on doors trying to spread the message and getting those doors slammed in my face.

Fuel prices went up last week from RM1.92 to RM2.70. There are rumours that they might even crank up the meter to RM4 by July. If Malaysia is crying now because of a 78 cent increase, Malaysia will be wailing hysterically when it goes up to RM4.

I don't own a car so I'm not feeling the pinch as everyone else is. I'm not going to own a car anytime soon so I'm not worried about the price going up to RM4. In fact, I'm not worried at all.

My position is that Malaysia has been incredibly selfish. Children who are sheltered and pampered become spoilt. The Malaysian government has been the spoiler parent, covering up its precious rakyat from the terrors of the world market. More expensive fuel? We'll keep the prices low for the people by subsidising it with...the people's money!

My mom says the the increasing fuel prices is BN's vendetta against us. I say that it was bound to happen anyway. I'm actually pleased that fuel prices are going up.

Global Warming is a touchy subject but I believe that it really is real. I believe that it is a problem that has been thrown to humanity to solve. I also believe that it would take something big to change the mindset of people and nations.

Nothing seems to have worked so far. Trying to educate people, tugging at their heartstrings with images of polar bears drowning out of a lack of ice. But money might just do it. If money is the root of all evil, this time it could be the root that makes the broth that saves us.

So that's why I'm actually glad of more expensive oil, because it will force the world to reconsider itself.

Visual Snow

Visual snow is when your vision becomes white, spotty and flecked. Like the effect you get when you look into a bright light and then turn away, just that this time it's white, not blue or red.

I get those quite regularly, its a kind of short migraine. First comes the aura of the impending attack. Then you lose vision as the visual snow freezes in, and while this happens your head throbs, and pulses. I lose control to do anything.

It only lasts about 15 seconds, but its a horrible fifteen seconds. About six months ago it was at its worst. I even fell down once.

Now, I don't get them very often. If I'm honestly honest with myself, there's probably a link between computer and this. It was at its worst when I was using the computer the most. It got better when I cut short the amount of time spent in front of the com.

If I'm going to be so honest with myself it would be divine, I'll tell you there's a direct link between the migraines and computer games. Today, I got up and started on the computer immediately. Now, I'm left with a dull throbbing headache.

Jian Eu, Jian Eu. Very weak teeth, sinus, sleeping problems, migraines, poor eyesight and a perforated eardrum.

Snapping Turtle

Snap! Snap! Snap!

I feel like Harry did in Order of the Phoenix.

Hmphf! I'm an angry little adolescent, my godfather and friends feed me little hints but don't tell me anything substantial. I'll teach them and send Hedwig after them.

Don't mess with me or i'll snap at you with my powerful beak. I'm a snapping turtle with a loud, painful snap and I'm not afraid to use it. In fact, I sometimes snap too often at people when I didn't mean too. I give them wounds which I'm sorry for.

Snap! Snap! Snap!

Those Happy Gays

We took Bingo for obedience training today. It was a group class by the Malaysian Kennel Association and there were all manner of dogs there. Big German Shepherds and tiny Jack Russels. There was a Rottweiler who was raining down slobber. As it panted, down came saliva drops. When its owner took it away, the spot where it had been was dotted with its drool.

I always thought Bing to be beautiful but there were two other American Cockers who were dazzling. Beautifully groomed and with such a shine on their coats. Bings looked so bedraggled in comparison.

One of the Cockers were owned by two men. Yes, yes. Strange that two men who aren't brothers would share a dog. We think that they are gay, since they seem to be real close and a little wierd, as in loving, in their behaviour toward one another.

Strange day.

Zombies and No-Sleep

Lets. See.

Two totally sleepless nights, six months of nightmares, three years of inability to sleep without a night light on and a perpetual fear of ghosts and such that scare me stiff and keep me awake through the night. Thinking, imagining, a black hand creeping from under the bed or a zombie skulking up the stairs.

I have an incredibly real imagination. If you see me sitting still for twenty minutes or so, I'm not really there. I traipse among the stars or go visit heroes of history. I fight orcs or push Frodo into Mount Doom. It's all fine and high during the day, but I turn from hunter to prey at night.

Monsters cut in half crawl and sew themselves back together, then they skulk and stalk me. Pontianaks clatter against the window, seeking a hole to enter through. The night is thick with my fear.

This started a long, long, long time ago. The list at the start is as real as I can remember and started in Taiping. PlayStation 1 was the only PlayStation then, so I was about seven. They, my cousins, were playing Resident Evil. I was scared out of my wits but I stayed and watched with horror, the same horror of a rabbit caught in headlights.

That night left an impression.

I stayed away form any horror after that. The nightmares were horror enough. The challenge was sleeping. Having a light on was fine, but once my eyes closed I was back in the dark. When I didn't sneak into my parent's room, I lay with my eyes open for as long as possible. They would gain weight but I held them up. Soon, I drift into an open eyed sleep and then only would my eyes close.

I still remain cautious regarding horror movies, but there's no lethal poison left in it for me now. At most, maybe a restless night or two. The lights go off but they don't come much anymore. If I suddenly get caught in a spasm of fear, I turn on the light and the shadows fade away.

Black Butt Bingo

My dear lovely dog has got a growth on her butt. It started before she went away and was just a tiny Little pinprick, so that we didn't bother with it. We were much too happy to get her back to worry about a pinprick of blackness.

Leaving for CNY, we first glimpsed the hilarious errrm...thing. She sits and then lifts up her legs so that she is resting on her butt. Then, she uses her front paws to move forward, rubbing her butt as she drags it along. Ta-daa!

Then, the black spot grew. First, the skin underneath the fur grew reddish, the fur would fall out until only a few strand remain and the skin would turn black. Whole areas were colonized rapidly so that a pinprick turned into a spot and into huge patch of lumpy, black, disgusting, populi skin.

I say populi because it is not flat skin, but filled with little hills. Little lumps which, when you squeeze, gives way like a ripe pimple, shooting out a jet of oil/pus. So we set to squeezing. We've squeezed it nearly dry.

Now its still growing, but we've started putting tea tree oil on it and it's getting better. We think it's gotten pinker, but maybe we're just looking through pink colored glasses.

Election Mathcraft

I don't get it. I just don't get at all why everyone is so amazed at the election results. People talk about a political tsunami, but I don't even feel a wave. Not just feel, I don't see anything that amazing.

It just doesn't add up. Barisan Nasional's two-third majority hasn't even been broken. Sure, Opposition came within one or two seats of breaking it, but they didn't break it.

So there is nothing to cheer about.

Three Hundred and Fifty-Six

I killed 356 mosquitos last year (number is accurate by a margin of 10), but I fell 9 short of my goal to kill 1 everyday.

It sounds sick that I count the number of mosquitos I kill, but I'm proud of the number. Not everybody can kill that many.

I love mosquitos. Rather, I love killing mosquitos. Especially when they fly so fast that they become a blur. You reach out and clap your hands together, and found you killed the little sucker.

bzzzzzzzzzzzzzz....

Bingo's Back

We got Bingo back, in case you don't already know.

Actually, yesterday we received a call from someone claiming to have her. That was wierd because we got her back almost a week ago.

Happy? New Year

Some sang Old Land Sign. Bottles of wine were popped open to herald the coming of 2008, or probably the end of 2007? Almost everyone participated in the countdown.

Well, I didn't.

I spent my New Year scouring the streets in Taipan (a large commercial area beside my neighborhood) looking for my dog. I spent the last few moments of '07 calling out, "Bingo, Bingo."

I woke up determined to give '07 a worthy sendoff, yet I spent its dying moments cursing it. There was no celebration for me. The ushering in of '08 can hardly be called a "happy" new year, not with Bingo missing.

Actually, I spent the final moments of 2007 next to a pub. I heard the countdown, then the cheers, and then the wishes. I heard and I was disgusted.

Maybe not being part of the fiesta but in a state of grief and guilt let me have a look at the pointlessness of Happy New Years. There is nothing concrete about New Years. The bubble bursts and life comes down flooding back on you.

You make resolutions that you forget by next week. The feel good feeling dissapears by tommorow. Life seems worse than ever.

The first time I had a Sad New Year, I find myself stronger and much more resolute than I have ever been before. It is not in joy, but in pain, that we truly grow. What's the point of feeling good for a night if tommorow the world is worse than ever? What's the use of drinking your troubles away?

Whether the new year is happy or not depends on how you take the pain and joys. Which you notice, and which you overlook. It's how you take it, not what you get, that determines how "happy" a year is.

Wishing you the best in 2008