Growing Up and Planning Ahead

I'm not good with future planning. 

Especially in terms of more than the next few hours until lunch time. 

For the past year, I've been telling myself to find the time to sit down and sift through my thoughts, list down goals and resolutions, set timelines and deadlines, and track the progress. I downloaded all sorts of applications, bought all sorts of diaries and journals (plus pretty pens and sticky notes to go along with it as a form of inspiration or encouragement), tagged all self-improvement articles for later reading...

It's been a year since all that and I've done shit loads of nothing. 
Like my weight, my motivation fluctuated.

Last week at work, there was a meeting with my colleagues and Managing Director on planning events for the year - something my sister, who majored in Event Management, would scoff at, saying that was something we should have done in (probably) October the year before. Soon, I'll share those plans.

That was the first forward planning I've ever done in my entire life other than noting down the dates for major exams during schooling years (mostly so that my mom would be able to take leave during those dates. Nothing to do with my revision planning).

It was a realisation of my lack of commitment for anything. I've never put in 100% effort and was subconsciously ever ready to pull out, relocate, cut losses, minimise damage, ensure I've at least skimmed the surface of everything to say I've been there and done that.

I've had this feeling that I should "hurry, hurry, hurry, there's not much time to do all this" in my field and if I linger too long, I'll miss out, lose out, too late it's gone....

The result was a constant unsatisfactory feeling with whatever I do since I'm trying to adopt the principle of "DOING IT PROPERLY OR DON'T DO IT AT ALL."

Honestly, I have been berating myself for the past few months and during my quiet times when I try to psyche myself up to improve, I can truly say there's one thing that I'm committing myself to 100% recently. It wasn't a conscious decision, not a spur of the moment 'why not' inspired thought that resulted in a quick start and equally quick die-off, none of my usual apprehension and the subsequent lackluster effort, none of the 'go with the flow and see where it goes'.

Where are the warning bells in my head?
Where is the uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach?
Where is the niggling discomfort at the back of my head?
Where is the impending sense of regret?

All I know is that whatever this is that I've committed myself to is permanent. There's no doubt nor hesitation. I still have no idea why but it fits. Seamlessly. No creases, no wrinkles; no displeasure, no discomfort. What was considered weird or uncharacteristic of me became a natural habit of sorts that I wasn't averse to.

Thaipusam 2015

I think I'm falling behind on my #100happydays 

On the second day of the second month of the year 2015, I finally gathered up the courage to brave the Thaipusam crowd, where stories of violent drunkards in sardine-like conditions prevailed over the true feel and focus of this religious festival.

It was Day 43 of my 100 Happy Days and I'm most obliged to blog more than a snippet for this event.

Despite having a strong dislike for crowds, brushing up against sweaty people and shouldering my way past dawdlers while avoiding bare toes of the devout, I armed myself with an Indian culture-enthusiast, a couple of 'seasoned' visitors, and the danna who was equally disinclined to be part of a mass congregation but willing to experience the atmosphere as part of a once-in-a-lifetime-should-be-enough-in-case-we-miss-anything,

FOMO I tell you, most solemnly.

As usual, I overdressed...or more accurately, under-dressed. I was the only person among the thousands, to be wearing a short skirt. Clearly, I wasn't thinking straight, but then again, when have I ever?

Stuffed a few bucks and my identity card into my bra, gripped my phone firmly to my torso and off I went. We probably missed the bulk of it when we arrived at about half past seven in the evening as we could walk at more than a snail's pace and stride into gaps ala Tyra Banks. All for the better it seems, I could take in more at once: the brightly coloured sarees and punjabi suits, the beautifully decorated kavadis and stalls, my magpie eyes were drawn to the jewelry on display but mourned my lack of passion and bravery for such statement pieces, and the supporting crowd around each kavadi bearer. The significance and symbolism of it all was lost on me but seeing the effect on the those who know better was the only thing I took back.

We had expected to go the whole nine yards for the event but taking everything into perspective, we probably only did a quarter or less by starting from the Gottlieb Road junction all the way up to the big temple on the hill and back.

None of the advice and stories were true to form. The only drunk episode was during dinner when the guy at the next table did a slow slide off his chair and his mates were too tipsy to haul him up themselves. We didn't help, neither did we look much - just in case. Treated it all as part of the scene. The kavadi bearers didn't have disturbing, morbid piercings, nor were they in eyes-rolled-back trance. Everything looked pretty normal. Even the typically terrible attitude of Malaysians chucking their rubbish at every corner. The traffic jam was horrible but because of the recently widened roads and well-rehearsed traffic divergence, it wasn't horror stories of being stuck in traffic for hours. At most, it was 40 minutes crawling inch by inch on Scotland Road.

The next day as I drove back, I expected chaos akin to the aftermath of a nuclear explosion. However, the roads were pretty clear and rubbish wasn't strewn too haphazardly on the grassy pavements.

I grew up learning about Thaipusam as an event to get super pissy faced; an event that clogs up already busy streets of Penang; a dangerous event where we should just stay home and use the public holiday to catch up on school and house work.

I'm now grown up and re-learning that Thaipusam is a religious festival and it's only a small portion of ignorant youngsters that get super pissy faced; a celebration by a culture considered a minority but nevertheless, one of many in this melting pot of race and culture of a country; an event to be equally revered and respected as one's own - not that I'm well versed in my own race/culture.

I'm pretty ignorant and under-educated in most things not animal-related, anyway. hehe.