Saturday, March 25, 2006
{ 4:14 AM }
The only man in my life that makes everything alright.
I know she's got my back and I've got her's.
You know what they say a picture; is worth a thousand words.
The only man in my life that makes everything alright.
I am, and always will be, his numero uno fan. He is my star and my inspiration.
I know she's got my back and I've got her's.
My 'bimbo' basketball partner and everything else. "Laughing makes you lose weight" she says.
Those were the days; I miss terribly. Scattered all over the world but never disconnected.
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
{ 5:30 AM }
I took an afternoon nap and just before dozing off, allowed my mind to wander into the untouched, dark, hollow centerfolds of my mind (edit: eh? let my mind wander into my mind. What did I just say?) I recalled my past.
High school, they say, is the biggest part of your teenage life. For me, to sum it up it was yearning to fit in and belong, the cliques, the fights and brawls behind the flats, the popular and unpopular people, sports day, interhouse and interschool basketball tournaments (oh the tension and adrenaline rush of it all), netball games, friends and acquaintances, boyfriends and girlfriends, sleepovers, tug-of-war, a certain warm up and chain removing incident, alcohol in class, and of course school. It was like I unleashed all the good and evil in Pandora's box.
High school was, and still is, tough. I walked tall and proud with the elite of the school for my first years. I can't pin point a time when and how that exactly happened, it's not like I went in and immediately became friends with them. We would 'conquer' a particular area every break we had. The girls were all very friendly, some very quite intimidating by appearance but they were nice. The guys, who so cliched-ly, were basketball stars and boyfriends of the girls.
Does this not resemble a scene from some teen movie, minus the fact that the girls in my story were not blonde bimbo cheerleaders?
We'd walk back and I don't know if they felt it but I felt that eyes would be on us. The girls leading the way, the guys trailing behind, to the stairs then we'd part to our respective classes. It was all too 'cool'. Don't get me wrong, we didn't do any bullying so we weren't all that horrible. I wouldn't call us the 'cool, popular' people, we were just in the companionship of people we loved, did our own thing and did not give a two cents about whether we were too loud in canteen or too crude in what we said.
They graduated, and I found myself in the company of a new group of friends. And from my view, when I was a senior, there were no longer any 'popular or unpopular' people in school. I mean, those who are 'well known' will always be know; it's not like you can erase their names from your head, but there was no longer a ruling class, a group that people wanted to be part of, a group that you wanted to impress or approved of your act. Then came the heart wrenching break up, the unforgettable warm up before that victorious pull, the disconnect from friends, the chain removing incident, the drama and the decision.
I can never forget tug-of-war in school. It was such an event. The girls would line and scream their lungs out under the boiling sun for their boyfriends and their houses. The guys would be 'excorted' out of the crowd circling them after their match and the canteen would be in a frenzy. People passing out bandages and powder. It was war-like. There was bloodshed, some too hurtful to watch and yet victory was always so sweet and worthwhile. The adrenaline rush was similar to that of watching a live wrestling match. It's true!
High school wasn't hell for me (edit: after re-reading I realised I contradicted myself lol). It was where I grew up. It was where I experienced 'love', working hard, curfew extentions and caring about nothing else about my plans for Friday. I thought a notch above those my age, maybe because I hung out with people senior to me.
I wish I could tell you what and what not to do to escape judgement and 'belong' but don't know how. At the end of the day, as long as you're with people you love, you're a popular group too.
There will always be the what if's; what if I had gone with him, what if I didn't give up, what if I didnt disconnect, what if I didn't belong, what if I were nicer. There's no end point. I wouldn't call it regret, I've tried not to feel regret, merely an imagination to the other side of life.
I miss the good ol' times. Things were much simpler then.
michelle
I took an afternoon nap and just before dozing off, allowed my mind to wander into the untouched, dark, hollow centerfolds of my mind (edit: eh? let my mind wander into my mind. What did I just say?) I recalled my past.
High school, they say, is the biggest part of your teenage life. For me, to sum it up it was yearning to fit in and belong, the cliques, the fights and brawls behind the flats, the popular and unpopular people, sports day, interhouse and interschool basketball tournaments (oh the tension and adrenaline rush of it all), netball games, friends and acquaintances, boyfriends and girlfriends, sleepovers, tug-of-war, a certain warm up and chain removing incident, alcohol in class, and of course school. It was like I unleashed all the good and evil in Pandora's box.
High school was, and still is, tough. I walked tall and proud with the elite of the school for my first years. I can't pin point a time when and how that exactly happened, it's not like I went in and immediately became friends with them. We would 'conquer' a particular area every break we had. The girls were all very friendly, some very quite intimidating by appearance but they were nice. The guys, who so cliched-ly, were basketball stars and boyfriends of the girls.
Does this not resemble a scene from some teen movie, minus the fact that the girls in my story were not blonde bimbo cheerleaders?
We'd walk back and I don't know if they felt it but I felt that eyes would be on us. The girls leading the way, the guys trailing behind, to the stairs then we'd part to our respective classes. It was all too 'cool'. Don't get me wrong, we didn't do any bullying so we weren't all that horrible. I wouldn't call us the 'cool, popular' people, we were just in the companionship of people we loved, did our own thing and did not give a two cents about whether we were too loud in canteen or too crude in what we said.
They graduated, and I found myself in the company of a new group of friends. And from my view, when I was a senior, there were no longer any 'popular or unpopular' people in school. I mean, those who are 'well known' will always be know; it's not like you can erase their names from your head, but there was no longer a ruling class, a group that people wanted to be part of, a group that you wanted to impress or approved of your act. Then came the heart wrenching break up, the unforgettable warm up before that victorious pull, the disconnect from friends, the chain removing incident, the drama and the decision.
I can never forget tug-of-war in school. It was such an event. The girls would line and scream their lungs out under the boiling sun for their boyfriends and their houses. The guys would be 'excorted' out of the crowd circling them after their match and the canteen would be in a frenzy. People passing out bandages and powder. It was war-like. There was bloodshed, some too hurtful to watch and yet victory was always so sweet and worthwhile. The adrenaline rush was similar to that of watching a live wrestling match. It's true!
High school wasn't hell for me (edit: after re-reading I realised I contradicted myself lol). It was where I grew up. It was where I experienced 'love', working hard, curfew extentions and caring about nothing else about my plans for Friday. I thought a notch above those my age, maybe because I hung out with people senior to me.
I wish I could tell you what and what not to do to escape judgement and 'belong' but don't know how. At the end of the day, as long as you're with people you love, you're a popular group too.
There will always be the what if's; what if I had gone with him, what if I didn't give up, what if I didnt disconnect, what if I didn't belong, what if I were nicer. There's no end point. I wouldn't call it regret, I've tried not to feel regret, merely an imagination to the other side of life.
I miss the good ol' times. Things were much simpler then.
michelle
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
{ 2:10 AM }
I will never underestimate the work done by my housekeeper (nicer term ok), or any housekeeper for that matter, ever again. I had the task of ironing my clothes today. I didn't have much of a choice you know, it's either iron clothes or walk around looking like Ms. Frump de frump frump.
As the name itself states, ironing, in my dictionary, is derived from the word irony haha. And indeed it lives up to its name. The irony of ironing. Washing, nyeh not so much of a hassle just press a few buttons dump in the detergent and you're all set. Ironing takes patience and a whole lot of back bending action, so much to the point my back actually hurts. And I have to iron only for my own clothes, imagine my 'aunty' who has to iron, wash, cook and clean after us all. Wah lao eh (no harm throwing in a few slangs)!
The plus side of it was that I, to some weird, demented extent, found it quite satisfying. Ironing out the creases felt so good. My pants originally were co crumpled and wrinkled, worse than any grandaddy's face. After I ironed them, they looked so wearable. It was just very satisfying la, those of you who don't do housework probably wouldn't know a thing about what I'm talking about.
A guy friend and I were on the topic of cleaning up and I was jokingly taunting him that he'd look so girly doing his laundry and ironing his clothes and all that. I didn't mean it la, but in my taunt I pointed out that there was an element of humour la.
I mean imagine a guy (not friend by the way) wearing a red and white polka dotted apron, or a french maid's uniform for the more imaginative of you, armed with a vacuum cleaner and a bandana.
Funny or not? If you think it's not funny, you really need to look for your sense of humour it seems to be missing. Anyway, surprisingly he told me he doesn't iron his clothes and inside I was screaming "omg omg how can you not iron your clothes? Won't they be crinkly and not presentable?" in reality I calmly posed the question
"Oh, your clothes won't be crumpled meh?".
I think he said no, and I didn't see a point in further pursuing the topic. Come to think of it I would like to know what material his clothes were made of, I don't mind buying clothes made of material X from now on as satisfying as ironing can be. Life can do without it.
Oh and another thought popped into my mind while ironing. How nice it would be to just iron my wrinkles away, when (yes, sadly 'when' I wish 'if' were an option) I'm old. Oh wait, in reality it's called botox or a face lift, whichever you please.
That concludes today's Housekeeping for bimboes (or is it bimbos).
Have a great one.
michelle
I will never underestimate the work done by my housekeeper (nicer term ok), or any housekeeper for that matter, ever again. I had the task of ironing my clothes today. I didn't have much of a choice you know, it's either iron clothes or walk around looking like Ms. Frump de frump frump.
As the name itself states, ironing, in my dictionary, is derived from the word irony haha. And indeed it lives up to its name. The irony of ironing. Washing, nyeh not so much of a hassle just press a few buttons dump in the detergent and you're all set. Ironing takes patience and a whole lot of back bending action, so much to the point my back actually hurts. And I have to iron only for my own clothes, imagine my 'aunty' who has to iron, wash, cook and clean after us all. Wah lao eh (no harm throwing in a few slangs)!
The plus side of it was that I, to some weird, demented extent, found it quite satisfying. Ironing out the creases felt so good. My pants originally were co crumpled and wrinkled, worse than any grandaddy's face. After I ironed them, they looked so wearable. It was just very satisfying la, those of you who don't do housework probably wouldn't know a thing about what I'm talking about.
A guy friend and I were on the topic of cleaning up and I was jokingly taunting him that he'd look so girly doing his laundry and ironing his clothes and all that. I didn't mean it la, but in my taunt I pointed out that there was an element of humour la.
I mean imagine a guy (not friend by the way) wearing a red and white polka dotted apron, or a french maid's uniform for the more imaginative of you, armed with a vacuum cleaner and a bandana.
Funny or not? If you think it's not funny, you really need to look for your sense of humour it seems to be missing. Anyway, surprisingly he told me he doesn't iron his clothes and inside I was screaming "omg omg how can you not iron your clothes? Won't they be crinkly and not presentable?" in reality I calmly posed the question
"Oh, your clothes won't be crumpled meh?".
I think he said no, and I didn't see a point in further pursuing the topic. Come to think of it I would like to know what material his clothes were made of, I don't mind buying clothes made of material X from now on as satisfying as ironing can be. Life can do without it.
Oh and another thought popped into my mind while ironing. How nice it would be to just iron my wrinkles away, when (yes, sadly 'when' I wish 'if' were an option) I'm old. Oh wait, in reality it's called botox or a face lift, whichever you please.
That concludes today's Housekeeping for bimboes (or is it bimbos).
Have a great one.
michelle
Monday, March 20, 2006
{ 6:59 AM }
Before I really begin with my post I would just like to say that I was appalled by the view that women footballers should not be out there playing their game. Is this what religion wants from us mortals? Or is religion a scapegoat for whatever the reasons? Is it wrong for the women and the girls to be engaging in sport? Wait, I take that question back, it shouldn't even be a question. It should be a perspective and I'm for the perspective that the chauvinistic male syndromes should have died out just like the dinosaurs have. They belong in the past; this IS the era of freedom and individuality. And you seriously do not be expecting us women to be the subservient chuttle that we once were.. if you're for that view you can just go suck on your own thumb because you belong in a baby pink/blue cradle.
Now, zap me back to my title choice. I was in class and we were given a scenario of having to choose between a best friend and commiting treason against the Sultan. The facts were that the Sultan wanted your best friend killed, worst part you were assigned to kill him/her. Ok, the reality.. there are no Sultans in my world la, I'm just a lowly commoner, but many a times we have been placed in such a tough spot where we'd have to choose between a long-time friend and a infatuation who could possibly turn out to be the love of your life and you contemplate on whether if you let him go you'd be a spinster for the rest of your life, childless, loveless, lonely.. yes you get the picture.
I won't even bother surfacing the 'choosing' dilemma. I was thinking more on the lines of 'good friend who found a new, in this case, girl and suddenly realised that we were merely the backdrop to his new-found interest and eventually snagging us off the backdrop and shoving us to kingdom come'. Did you get my analogy? It's a bit lengthy but I can't help it, my fury got the best of my words.
I'm sure you have such a friend!! Everyone does. Why ah? There was this person and the fun part is I'm not telling who he is but let's call him 'Z'. So Z was a good friend belonged to our little group of friends; this was a few years back by the way. All was peachy until he met a girl, girls can be such evil whores. Let's call girl 'CH2', it's my story I can call her whatever I want, now don't sidetrack your mind. So CH2 was, I assume, not too fond of our group or possibly just the girls in the group. You can insert your creativity there. And since their union, she swallowed Z whole and he was never to be seen with us again. Sad, really, seeing how he was such a funny nice individual. So, from then I swore on my as if not fat enough butt that I would never treat my beloved boyfriend that way although I must admit, it was difficult in some cases especially when it came to girls. Yes I admit I can be a bit insecure, but then I don't want people to see me as a mean, over protective b*tch who so selfishly needs her boyfriend all to herself unlike a certain CH2.
Moral of the story: Ladies, please do not be like that it's says "JUDGE ME" all over. Gents, do not be so silly as to give in to your better half like that it's says "I'M STUPID" all over.
Just for the pleasure of it all, I've last heard that Z and CH2's union no longer exists. What goes around comes around, I tell you. Karma!
Oh hi to my sis for posting her very first post. =)
Good night ladies... and gents who I'm still pissed at for setting dumb rules about girls and football just to feed their ego, try it with basketball and I will be less tolerant, I will show you my war face. *grrr..
michelle
Before I really begin with my post I would just like to say that I was appalled by the view that women footballers should not be out there playing their game. Is this what religion wants from us mortals? Or is religion a scapegoat for whatever the reasons? Is it wrong for the women and the girls to be engaging in sport? Wait, I take that question back, it shouldn't even be a question. It should be a perspective and I'm for the perspective that the chauvinistic male syndromes should have died out just like the dinosaurs have. They belong in the past; this IS the era of freedom and individuality. And you seriously do not be expecting us women to be the subservient chuttle that we once were.. if you're for that view you can just go suck on your own thumb because you belong in a baby pink/blue cradle.
Now, zap me back to my title choice. I was in class and we were given a scenario of having to choose between a best friend and commiting treason against the Sultan. The facts were that the Sultan wanted your best friend killed, worst part you were assigned to kill him/her. Ok, the reality.. there are no Sultans in my world la, I'm just a lowly commoner, but many a times we have been placed in such a tough spot where we'd have to choose between a long-time friend and a infatuation who could possibly turn out to be the love of your life and you contemplate on whether if you let him go you'd be a spinster for the rest of your life, childless, loveless, lonely.. yes you get the picture.
I won't even bother surfacing the 'choosing' dilemma. I was thinking more on the lines of 'good friend who found a new, in this case, girl and suddenly realised that we were merely the backdrop to his new-found interest and eventually snagging us off the backdrop and shoving us to kingdom come'. Did you get my analogy? It's a bit lengthy but I can't help it, my fury got the best of my words.
I'm sure you have such a friend!! Everyone does. Why ah? There was this person and the fun part is I'm not telling who he is but let's call him 'Z'. So Z was a good friend belonged to our little group of friends; this was a few years back by the way. All was peachy until he met a girl, girls can be such evil whores. Let's call girl 'CH2', it's my story I can call her whatever I want, now don't sidetrack your mind. So CH2 was, I assume, not too fond of our group or possibly just the girls in the group. You can insert your creativity there. And since their union, she swallowed Z whole and he was never to be seen with us again. Sad, really, seeing how he was such a funny nice individual. So, from then I swore on my as if not fat enough butt that I would never treat my beloved boyfriend that way although I must admit, it was difficult in some cases especially when it came to girls. Yes I admit I can be a bit insecure, but then I don't want people to see me as a mean, over protective b*tch who so selfishly needs her boyfriend all to herself unlike a certain CH2.
Moral of the story: Ladies, please do not be like that it's says "JUDGE ME" all over. Gents, do not be so silly as to give in to your better half like that it's says "I'M STUPID" all over.
Just for the pleasure of it all, I've last heard that Z and CH2's union no longer exists. What goes around comes around, I tell you. Karma!
Oh hi to my sis for posting her very first post. =)
Good night ladies... and gents who I'm still pissed at for setting dumb rules about girls and football just to feed their ego, try it with basketball and I will be less tolerant, I will show you my war face. *grrr..
michelle
Saturday, March 18, 2006
{ 2:39 AM }
I had this lovely blog site with a name I wanted and a layout I like and entries and all and now that I've missed 'blogging' decided to post an entry, I signed in and the damn f-ing site disconnected me from my blog. I am pissed, wait hold that thought, pissed would be an understatement. What a way for me to start my clone blog with such such and angry resentful post. It's all their fault.
Then again, I've always been told to look for the bright side in things. In this case.... what bright side?! No la actually the bright side hmm.. I wouldnt notice my long (almost 2 weeks) absence in the blogging world and looking back at my old blog it was so dull and mundane, talking about world issues what not. Not that they don't mean anything to me, they do, it's something that I've been passionate about. With my new 'clone blog' as I call it I get to re-personalise myself and be less serious (well maybe occassionally), more personal and more fun haha, self praise is no praise I say. Oh and my sister is going to be blogging with me so yay for that. =)
I had a magical 10 day much needed vacation at the most comfortable luxurious place ever. The service was excellent, and when I say excellent I mean excellent, the food was great the activities planned were thoroughly entertaining. What sort of place you ask? I'm afraid my dear friends that such a place is exclusive, totally exclusive actually it's only exclusive to me. The place - my boyfriend's house laaa if you haven't already guessed.
I stayed over for the whole 10 days of my so-called "reading week", sarcasm inserted because I doubt anyone in my class did much reading. It was a entirely new experience for me. I mean the one-two day sleepovers couldn't for all the chocolates in the world compare to this. I went to bed beside him, woke up beside him, kissed him off to work, had breakfast lunch and dinner together, went out together, stayed in and watched movies together. It was heaven on earth I tell you. I will, of course, leave out the more intimate details and leave that to your imagination, wait strike that DON'T for crying out loud imagine. In other words put, it felt like marriage bliss... whatttt seriously ma it did feel like marriage bliss lol.
The worst part of it all was where he had to send me off at the airport. It was the hardest thing ever to walk away from him and there were so many days that I'd reconsider my coming back to KL but I suppose 'it's all for my own good'. The car ride to the airport was excruciating and during the walk away from him towards the departure gates I just couldn't stop the tears from flowing. I did the whole take a deep breath wooshah thing, didn't help much.
And the more depressing part of this post is that I'm back in KL, been back for almost a week and counting down the days (22 days) to my return of another blissful 10 days. I'm feeling that my body system won't be able to handle these up and downs that change like the weather in Melbourne. I suppose there are things in life that you have to suck it up, smile and walk through.
It's saturday and I've been home. Sad? Not really, I call it unwilling. Oh just an update on what's hip and happening in KL. Tiesto is here, yes THE DJ Tiesto, the god of trance, the master of mixes and turntables. He's on tonight for his Asian Tour coinciding with the F1 Grand Prix here in Sepang. Oh and speaking of which all the top drivers are here Montoya, Alonso, The Scumacher's and the ever good looking Kimi Raikkonen. What a line up. Sadly I won't be attending anything, lack on interest laaa and Lionel Ritchie was here too... damn expensive the tickets RM900 for the bronze seats ok but the plus of attending is the probability (note: probability) of mingling with the stars Michelle Yeoh and the likes.
A pat on the back for a relatively long post. I'm out to dinner.
michelle
I had this lovely blog site with a name I wanted and a layout I like and entries and all and now that I've missed 'blogging' decided to post an entry, I signed in and the damn f-ing site disconnected me from my blog. I am pissed, wait hold that thought, pissed would be an understatement. What a way for me to start my clone blog with such such and angry resentful post. It's all their fault.
Then again, I've always been told to look for the bright side in things. In this case.... what bright side?! No la actually the bright side hmm.. I wouldnt notice my long (almost 2 weeks) absence in the blogging world and looking back at my old blog it was so dull and mundane, talking about world issues what not. Not that they don't mean anything to me, they do, it's something that I've been passionate about. With my new 'clone blog' as I call it I get to re-personalise myself and be less serious (well maybe occassionally), more personal and more fun haha, self praise is no praise I say. Oh and my sister is going to be blogging with me so yay for that. =)
I had a magical 10 day much needed vacation at the most comfortable luxurious place ever. The service was excellent, and when I say excellent I mean excellent, the food was great the activities planned were thoroughly entertaining. What sort of place you ask? I'm afraid my dear friends that such a place is exclusive, totally exclusive actually it's only exclusive to me. The place - my boyfriend's house laaa if you haven't already guessed.
I stayed over for the whole 10 days of my so-called "reading week", sarcasm inserted because I doubt anyone in my class did much reading. It was a entirely new experience for me. I mean the one-two day sleepovers couldn't for all the chocolates in the world compare to this. I went to bed beside him, woke up beside him, kissed him off to work, had breakfast lunch and dinner together, went out together, stayed in and watched movies together. It was heaven on earth I tell you. I will, of course, leave out the more intimate details and leave that to your imagination, wait strike that DON'T for crying out loud imagine. In other words put, it felt like marriage bliss... whatttt seriously ma it did feel like marriage bliss lol.
The worst part of it all was where he had to send me off at the airport. It was the hardest thing ever to walk away from him and there were so many days that I'd reconsider my coming back to KL but I suppose 'it's all for my own good'. The car ride to the airport was excruciating and during the walk away from him towards the departure gates I just couldn't stop the tears from flowing. I did the whole take a deep breath wooshah thing, didn't help much.
And the more depressing part of this post is that I'm back in KL, been back for almost a week and counting down the days (22 days) to my return of another blissful 10 days. I'm feeling that my body system won't be able to handle these up and downs that change like the weather in Melbourne. I suppose there are things in life that you have to suck it up, smile and walk through.
It's saturday and I've been home. Sad? Not really, I call it unwilling. Oh just an update on what's hip and happening in KL. Tiesto is here, yes THE DJ Tiesto, the god of trance, the master of mixes and turntables. He's on tonight for his Asian Tour coinciding with the F1 Grand Prix here in Sepang. Oh and speaking of which all the top drivers are here Montoya, Alonso, The Scumacher's and the ever good looking Kimi Raikkonen. What a line up. Sadly I won't be attending anything, lack on interest laaa and Lionel Ritchie was here too... damn expensive the tickets RM900 for the bronze seats ok but the plus of attending is the probability (note: probability) of mingling with the stars Michelle Yeoh and the likes.
A pat on the back for a relatively long post. I'm out to dinner.
michelle