Reopening my mind's eye

It has been nearly two whole years since my last post and one would usually bemoan the flight of time. Has anything changed? Did anything change? Why did I stop writing, or rather, why did I procrastinate this long to write?

What changed surely, was my relationship status. In April 2017 I was single. Now, in March 2019 I'm married with a 7 month old son, battling anxiety and self-depreciation issues.

It was a slow realisation after being forced to answer "so what do you do for a living?"

Back twenty years ago when nobody knew the word zoology when I wanted to study it and be the next Steve Irwin (on hindsight, more like David Attenborough), it was the same thing trying to explain what does a Nature Educationist mean. 

I used to go excitedly "oh, I studied zoology" (cue interested gasp or confused harrumph from person who asked) and the level of enthusiasm peters out to a "I'm doing nature education with kids" in almost a sad-like manner. Now, when people go "you must be so lucky to be able to do what you want and be with your child all the time" I just grit my teeth and mentally thank Tyra Banks for teaching that fake-smile method in America's Next Top Model episodes.

Truly, I have read more than a handful of articles and soul-baring posts by other Stay-At-Home Moms (SAHMs) and every word rings true. There's no such thing as making the extra effort to dress up a little bit nicer for wedding dinners when it's only you and husband wrestling a cranky infant who DOES NOT WANT TO WEAR THAT CUTE BOWTIE ROMPER for about half an hour and there's absolutely no way you can do your hair or makeup properly when you're trying to stifle a tear when husband says "why can't you iron that before wearing?" as if we don't need that extra time to just...breathe.

Like, does it matter when the baby's clinging to me all the time and messes it up eventually within 5 steps out the door and I have to remember to pack all the necessary baby paraphernalia instead of matching earrings and proper shoes?

How is it that I should go shopping for nicer clothes when nothing fits properly anymore - I don't even know whether it's fat or flab - and the stretchmarks that I'm supposed to be proud of are made more obvious by the dressing room lights, scars that don't seem that encouraging to the self esteem and becomes instead a heart-stabbing memory of how my body shape wasn't that great to begin with and now it's worse?

How am I to keep my head up when people think I do nothing at home as the laundry and dishes are piling up, dust bunnies are making themselves into a forest of tumbleweeds in every corner with my hair that dropped by the fistfuls, all of which I don't have the efficiency of Mary Poppins because a) I'm lethargic all the time and b) I'm spending too much time thinking, dreaming, planning my own business that doesn't seem to get off the ground as I wanted because I'm such a shitty-assed salesperson that actually goes into stupid brain mode in front of customers.

How am I to come to terms that I gave up sanity and my life-long love for animals to be a housewife and not depend on anyone else for help  (because not only we can't afford a maid but very uncomfortable in having one if we could) or even have a proper and intellectual conversation? Being told daily that I'm forgetting something (everything, more like) isn't helping my Mariana Trench-level of self-esteem. Being reminded daily that I'm not doing anything mentally challenging, besides making sure we have enough clean clothes, is enough to knock me clean and out when my poor grasp of life and its workings is already hindering me from maturing emotionally after what seems like I've been half blind the whole time growing up.

I probably have anxiety issues that I think I made up in my head in order to seek attention. I am able to read articles and say "yes, I have all those symptoms" and turn around and say to myself "maybe you're just making it up so just shut up and get on with it, don't be such a whiny bitch"

Do I need help? Do I want help?
I really, in all seriousness, do not know.

In 2014 I hit the ground running when I left my David Attenborough life to come home.

In 2015 I decided to slow down to recollect myself and do a self check on my direction in life.

I feel like I'm sinking in quicksand and wading through treacle at the same time.
Scared. Confused. Tired.

30 Day Writing Challenge: Day 4

*WRITE ABOUT SOMEONE WHO INSPIRES YOU*

"She's been on my mind a lot lately because she is to me, the epitome of what it means to be never too late to do something that you truly love."

That was a snippet from a previous blog post about someone who inspired me - Bronwyn Fancourt - who showed and not just told me that it's ok to live one's life at one's own pace and for one's own interest(s). There's absolutely no need, and a matter of fact quite a waste of time, energy and sometimes money, to keep up with the Jones' by stalking their Facebooks and getting all flustered with envy of holiday/engagement/career pictures of others. 

Also applies to social media posts by surface-reflective, career-confident people who flick their hair back with exclamations about climbing the career ladder while others are settling down. 

No one walks my path but me. At the moment it seems like a terribly bumpy uphill road with so many switchbacks that it looks like I'm pacing back and forth with no progress on the journey but nevertheless it's my own buggering path. I just hope to God that the view's really worth it at the end. 

Bronwyn and a few others at university may have left quite an imprint on me in regards to forward planning, scheduling, and all sorts that lead to an efficient lifestyle that's properly oiled with discipline in order to churn out results like primly wrapped packages. The imprint is still there but after nearly 5 years, it's still a difficult thing to start and keep going. I was probably shooting wildly in the dark in an attempt to emulate them but someone came along to un-blind and unbind me. 

That someone who also showed that walking the path less chosen is quite alright; that the world may be bigger yet smaller with uncountable facets; that it's alright to fall short of expectations that are usually set at improbable heights by one's ownself; that if all else fails and everything is bleak and full of misery, there's always, always, always another way.

That someone who could be a great example to start the incredible nature vs. nurture debate.

That someone who has pushed himself and took on so much with only a complaint or two despite not knowing the results or lack thereof.

That someone with whom I've decided to spend the rest of my life with before I fully realised it. 

30 Day Writing Challenge: Day 3

*WHAT ARE YOUR TOP THREE PET PEEVES?*

1. PUNCTUALITY
2. GRAMMAR
3. WASTAGE

As a reigning queen of procrastination, #1 should be laughable as this post is already, supposedly, a week delayed. In all honesty, I had written quite a bit for each of my listed top three pet peeves but the hesitation in posting it for public viewing was due to the reluctance in posting a mundane bunch of words that usually goes up on Facebook, my default facade.

As a self-proclaimed grammar nazi that has probably lost me a few friendships and gained me a title as a know-it-all snob, it is with a horrifying revelation that I've actually toned down my correcting and 'gone down to their level' to the point where I can hardly speak, much less write, proper English. Editing work that became a portion of my responsibilities did not come as easy as expected - in fact, being lost for words is often the case as I've reduced my vocabulary to direct translations, peppered with dialect words.

As for wastage, grey areas and 'closing an eye' progressed to wider areas on a narrower field of vision. Not that I've been using disposables with abandon; the guilt is very much still there if I've forgotten to be less wasteful. I still hoard items that clutter the house but I'm not lugging around my own cutlery and refusing straws and plastic bags every single time.

My pet peeves are still pet peeves but my reactions towards them are very much less outward. In recent years, Lent became the season to really give up on things and I'm not talking about vegetarian meals for 40 days. I've greatly reduced my road rage and decreased my habit of over-thinking, over-worrying, over-analysing, over-this and that...

Life is then so much better. But of course, there's still plenty to be done, plenty to improve.

30 Day Writing Challenge: Day 2

*WRITE SOMETHING THAT SOMEONE TOLD YOU ABOUT YOURSELF THAT YOU NEVER FORGOT*

"You are one, very complicated lady!"

Full of contradictions, the constant pushing forward and pulling back of enthusiasm and reluctance, of bravery and cowardice has finally taken its toll and left me in a quandary about my self-esteem, and self-worth which then ignited a whole bunch of self-realisation exercises that left me tearfully stricken and mentally exhausted - translating to physical fatigue.

Every single time I'm doing something I wish I were doing something else. Every single time I'm somewhere I yearn to be someplace else. I'm mostly in my own head where I can be anyone, anytime, anywhere and hence, it affects long periods of conversation or discussions with actual people. It's affecting my real time presence and it stopped being funny now.

This current process of disentanglement I'm now putting myself through is an on-going, stop-start, painful procedure and all I really want is the reset button but all I really need is a keen sense of clarity and mindful purpose to focus on every juggling ball that comes to hand. 

Why is it so difficult to wade through treacle? 

Why is it so difficult to tear through cobwebs?

Remarks about myself range from being an 'ultimate, selfish bitch' to such a 'sweet and cute' person bounces off my walls every now and then, usually by people who spend plenty of surface time with me. Like a cold-blooded animal, it takes me awhile to warm up to anyone at anytime - the danna not included as I'm practically super glued to him as a painfully 'extroverted introvert' would do in social situations. Hence, not many can accurately remark on my whole self.

That particular observation was made by my boss during an intense, open discussion and is possible the second time someone has said that to me. If I dredge up my horrid memory right, the first person who told me that was Bronwyn, whom I spent hours in a car and days in small cabins for fieldwork.

Not sure how they both came about this conclusion about myself but it seems pretty accurate. Since I hit the double digits, the proud age of 10 years old, I knew what I wanted to be and do - the next Steve Irwin, getting down and dirty to come to face level with all sorts of non-humans animals. Gratefully, I was able to pursue that dream which unfortunately did not have a mapped future past graduation.

So, from the age of 24, every step and move I made is done in pure trepidation. Gone, was my fiery, know-it-all and do-it-all, gung-ho persona and in her place, one very anxiety-laden and constantly apprehensive worrywart.

30 Day Writing Challenge: Day 1

Plenty of things have been waving their arms at me from Pinterest and Instagram, beseeching to be my next crazed hobby - at the moment, it's DIY embossing and lo, and behold, I have almost all the materials to start. 

Weirdly, I seem to have this ailment where I get super excited, super enthusiastic, super everything about it but I can't make the crucial step: to start.

So here's to picking up an old hobby, an old yet forever love: writing and this time with a purpose, which is this 30 Day Writing Challenge. A challenge because nothing has been challenging me with such fervour for the past handful of years now.

*10 THINGS THAT REALLY MAKE YOU HAPPY*

...and I assume these listed things will make me 'really' happy and not just a swish of delight like pictures of bunnies and babies. More like a unicorn having a severe bout of diarrhea over me and I could get run over by a truck yet skip away like I just won the lottery.

1. Really, really good coffee made with really, really good chocolate...

2. Or a tea that makes me feel less like a whale with bloating issues. 

Freshly brewed coffee in Australia seems to be the norm and instant coffee is almost unheard of. I believe that's where my love for real coffee began and it grew exponentially when I started to learn more about it through work where I met Jimmy from Coffee Rescue - Penang who not only taught me about the chemistry of it all but guided me to learn about the biology and history of it all. Too amazeballs. His locally roasted Columbian brew coupled with his own choice of cacao just makes me sproing all over the place and so far every other cup has failed abysmally against it. 

As for tea, I'm no connoisseur but I take it black and strong (quite the opposite of my coffee) and it usually does the trick in making me think I can wear latex full body suits like Angelina/Evangeline.

3. Stationery.

The stuff that comes in sets of different colours and it could range from colour pens to brushes to journals to punches. These are usually quite pricey so the ultimate happy comes when they are on big discounts.

4. Rain

I don't care if I just washed my hair or I'm wearing something nice. I refuse to use umbrellas most of the time (and I have like five in the car) but I try to since not many people appreciate having a sodden idiot dripping all over the place. Even better if I shelter from heavy rain in a heavily air-conditioned place. Shivering from cold is one of my weird, favourite things. 

5. Shopping for other people

I can buy stuff for myself and it gets tossed to the side immediately until I unearth them during seasonal paleontology excursions but the ultimate glee is in getting something for someone else, even though it results in out-loud monologues (that makes even the most enthusiastic salesperson back away slowly) on whether the item suits the person or not.

6. Spicy food 

An excellent dose of spicy food that just clears my intestines and any secret thought of harbouring parasitic tapeworms that may 'help' me lose weight is quite a sadistic pleasure and I've gotten to the point where I'm almost willing to suffer gastric by having extremely spicy food on an empty stomach. 

7. Showers

Either taken ice cold or boiling hot under high pressure - the former after a long, hot and sweaty day and the latter after being caught in the rain. However, ice cold showers aren't real anymore since the pipes get heated up during the day and hot showers don't go hot enough to scald a layer of skin off.

8. Getting dirty with a purpose

Well I suppose it merits an ice cold shower afterwards but being able to play with dirt after a sterile childhood is a satisfaction beyond words. I remember being stuck in and wading through mud, trampling though waist high leaf litter, sifting through innards, knowing all sorts of things that crawl about doesn't deter me the least. 

9. Animals

A default really. Anyone who knows me would know the extent of my love for animals. Plonk any non-human on my lap and I'm done for.

10. Stubble

The danna's stubble on his chin to be exact. I can live without it anywhere else. His facial hair is like my security blanket. The few months we were dating, he shaved off his month-long beard without any notice and I almost cried. Otherwise, I take every opportunity to annoy him by transforming into a cat in order to crawl up his belly and nuzzle the rough. Or so I imagine. 

.

Here's to talking to myself...again

It has been a whole year and a little more that I've stopped talking to myself in a written manner. The past year was wrought with more lows than highs but instead of heavy clouds of gloom overhead while trying to keep up with the ever appearing stepping stones on bruised feet, I think it was a slow downhill collapse that went nearly unnoticed.

It was only somewhere during the last quarter of the year when I sat down with my Managing Director and confessed I'm not doing very well, for myself and for the company and not for the lack of trying either. A few talking-to's with my other, much better half only riled me to get back up just a little before waves of futility knock me over and wash over my head.

Equivalent to digging a hole in loose sand that keeps falling back and filling up, I eventually lost sight of what I'm doing and what I'm supposed to do.

Pretty bad shape, I'd say. 

Stifling up erratic, over-enthusiastic, overly blatant outbursts of personality in order to exude a calm, controlled manner in adulthood has somewhat girdled off the supply of life into the rest of me and what is left is a slow death.

What prevails is uncertainty -  the lack of direction in pursuit of anything - and lethargy in overcoming even the smallest hurdles of life. All this then leads to short bursts of enthusiasm but then is quickly dampened by so-called rational, adult-like thinking.

There were attempts to put things into order by going back to old ways which have served well in a way - colour coding and compartmentalising but yet in a more transparent way. Sadly, there seems to be more than a lethargy in getting things going; life in 2016 was more of trying to overtake on a slope but my car doesn't have enough torque to speed up.

My Other and Much Better Half asked me if I had any ideas or whims and fancies in relation to our wedding - not to my surprise, even though I'm at that age-stage where peers are getting married left, right, and centre, following the natural phases of life, I have always 'prided' myself in not walking the same path which yes, could be quite despairingly lonely and trying at times if not most and this includes having a notion of how my own wedding would be. When asked, I had to confess that whatever that is in the drawer marked 'weddings' are notes on what not to do and what I don't want to do/have.

In fact, I don't think it has fully sunk in me that I'm actually getting married, myself. Too often have I been reined back and have reined myself back and thus, adopted a Pavlov-like behaviour - do not overreact, wait and see, do not count your chickens before they hatch, do not dream so high and so big so you won't have far to fall.

This has to stop.

It's always darkest before dawn

The wolf hour. 

Before first light.

Before day breaks.

Tomorrow will be the eve of the new year 2016. 

2009 - 2012 were the best, eye-opening, loneliest years of my life. 

2013 was the most adventurous, limit-pushing, frustrating year of my life.

2014 was the most risk-taking year of my life - where I've now reaped the harvest in 2015. 

My world and perception has truly expanded and in that short period of time it did, I was busy playing catch up, trying hard to fall into step, squeezing out every drop of life to live like there's none to be wasted.

I can equate this year to a frantic hop-skip over hot coals while juggling hot potatoes. Hopefully when the new year rolls in, I would grow half a brain to not expect to develop calluses thick enough to handle the heat but to wear heat-proof gloves and shoes instead. 

Instead of a laissez-faire attitude towards goals and resolutions that has happened for the past few years, resulting in a no-surprise lack of achievement, I'm setting some this year....just that I haven't really gotten around to some serious thinking ah-hyuk hyuk.

Here's to a blessed year of Mercy.

Still singing the same old song...

I read back my old blog posts from a year and a half ago and came to the dreadful realisation that not much has changed.

Still singing the same old song where I'm feeling sorry about myself, reminiscing too much of the supposedly glorious past, not doing much about making things better or striving for change for the better....

I feel like hitting myself. Today was the day where I realised that there's no point looking for a job that I would love getting up in the morning for. 

THERE'S NO SUCH THING. 

Optimists will say, there's always one bad day or two..., and unknowingly, that bad day or two had stretched into nearly two years now. This enlightenment came after the boss 'had a word' with me about decrease in income and lack of proactive productivity from my one-and-a-half man department. 

I had vowed never to be chained to my desk during office hours. I end up doing so despite part of my job scope is to go outdoors.

I had vowed to avoid sales and high levels of interaction with people where they are to be persuaded to part with their money. Unfortunately I'm being warned reminded constantly that public relations - which includes some sort of salesmanship - is very much 80% of my job scope. 

To be honest, I've had a few long-ish weekends where I have some time to myself to think things through and do some serious adult-thinking. But it never happens as I end up reading or sleeping the entire day. Even cleaning up seems to be half-hearted. 

Despite having to meet people, I feel happiest when I'm "OOO" which means Out Of Office. No, I don't have colleagues from hell that I hear a lot of, and that's a blessing. I have a management that may be budget-tight with big dreams but after each admonishing, I walk away not dispirited and disheartened but quite the opposite - more annoyed and frustrated at myself for not doing my best when I could but didn't due to lack of prioritising or enthusiasm; wishing for more time and self-discipline.

After all that, I know I do need a break. A real one where I don't think of impending workload or overworrying about things to come that I have no control - and that's scary. The danna is constantly reminding me to let go of things I cannot control, not to let my emotions run me, that there's really no point in spending effort and time on happenstances that cannot be helped, or let everyone and anything get to me. 

He might not know I use him as a tissue for my anxiety tears 

but he really is my pillar of strength to hold back that ceiling of fear. 

Breaking Boundaries

That's my motto before I hit the big Three-Zero.

Since young, like everyone else, I had set a timeline for a couple of goals; mind you, these goals were set during the "freedom" after UPSR at 12 years old.

• Move out at 18 years old
• Buy myself a diamond ring when I'm 21
• Get married at 25 years old

Well, at 18 years old I was no where financially or mentally smart enough to think farther ahead than looking at newspaper classifieds. I was nearly dead broke at 21 years old when I pooled my meager savings (probably just touching a couple of grand) with my parents' EPF withdrawals to start my degree in Tasmania. At 25 years old, I was just as broke and far, physically, from settling down.

It's been half a year from my last post and very nearly the reason would be is that I started full-time at Tropical Spice Garden. Very nearly the excuse would be that I took on, or was given, quite a lot to deal with for a one-person department. Very nearly the blame is my over-enthusiasm yet under-prepared yet shy-to-ask-shy-to-say-no.

What prompted me strongly to start writing here again was Evan. Speaking to him during last weekend's Halloween Night Walk showed that I've been neglecting myself and definitely straying far from what I've discovered as my true passion - one that I may not be strong in but is truly something that has not waned since that dark, windy night catching and 'processing' bats with Lisa Cawthen.

Start again. Even if it's small. 

So I'm looking to break some boundaries before I'm 30 because that age had more significance to me than any other age.

Writing
Drawing
Riding (and getting) a motorcycle (license)
Nose piercing....

A step forward

So I mentioned how I hate being friendly to random strangers.

Unless it's a passing comment and no obligatory conversation ensues, I actually would say something ice-breaking...like "oh, the toilets are that way."

Weirdly enough, last night during the Easter dinner gathering for Penang Choicees, I actually walked up and introduced myself while the danna hung back. However, I introduced myself to two people whom I already know but didn't realise.

Yes, thou shalt facepalm thyself. 

One was Jmelda, a senior in school and former parish. The other was Adeline, also former fellow parishioner in IC and I've actually texted her quite a bit last year. Both were quite perplexed on why I was introducing myself when we all knew each other already. During the mingling before dinner, someone sat down at our table and started reminiscing about last year, throwing out facts about our lives that we were sure we didn't share with her, whoever she was!? Found out, it was Jeanne from the publicity department in Choice and I also had been texting her plenty, and even went to the extent of calling her dear/babe.

Surely, despite the faux pas, I could take it as progress in real-life socialising?

Another scenario was a few days ago where I had a meeting with the bosses and colleague with a couple of small entrepreneurials on stocking their gardening merchandise in the gift shop at work. I noticed that Joleen was being uncharacteristically quiet and I was the one throwing out questions (and answering others) and making comments alongside the bosses.

After that, it was a pro-active follow-up... adding and chatting on Facebook (yes, how professional).

I pray that it'll be no more flashes in the pan.
No more quicksilver heats but slow burns leading to (environmental friendly) long-lasting bonfires.
No more hiding behind my armored walls, built on the grounds of personal and emotional safety.


One more thing I would need to learn is not take things personally. The ability to read people and know what they think or feel about you at that particular moment can be hurtful or embarrassing due to the circumstances, whether or not its your fault.


Time to shake off this quarter-life crisis and embark on a self-changing acknowledging journey before I hit my 30s.

Bloody hell, I'm already 27?!!
...and I act like I'm still 17

Raucous silence

For a year or more, I've been having this impending sense of doom... a vague feeling of dread, of things left unfinished, matters left unattended. 

It affects me now and then but I always put it down to PMS until I realise these weird depressing emotions don't follow my menstrual cycle at all.

Perhaps I'm thinking too much. 

Keeping too much inside, a habit cultivated in 5 years of being a partial hermit - active in social media but no where else.

I kept often to myself in Australia and Sabah, albeit loving the environment and appreciating the finer bits, I tend to withdraw from both crowds and one on ones. I would take solo bus rides to suburban places in Tasmania, hop on the nearest tram with no qualms in Melbourne, take mini solo (and prohibited) solo walks in Danau Girang and make those 2hr one-way drives myself from Lahad Datu to Tawau during car services.

Five years of talking mostly to myself.

Ken was the one I talked to the most but obviously, it wasn't a live chat and he only replies when he can. Nevertheless, a reprieve from the crowding of thoughts in my head.

Now, the danna says my mind flits around a lot and he pauses quite a bit during conversations with me since I can, and have, talk about multiple things at once. Long ago, I could hold a MSN conversation with Ying about three different and totally unrelated things at once. If you can imagine, we both type quite speedily and the messages were all so jumbled up that even some international secret intelligence were monitoring us, they would probably flip their consoles FTS!

I can't just start talking to random people. That isn't me. But what is me is that I'm always self-evolving. Adapting to changes in order not to be categorised or seen as in a specific way. THAT I know of myself. Since young, if someone tells me "oh, I see your favourite colour is blue?" I deny and start having more red stuff. If they tell me they notice I like a certain genre of music, a style of dressing, a choice of reads, I deny and deny until the cock crows three times. I've even changed my handwriting every year!

So now knowing that I'm deathly afraid of public speaking, lethally frightened by proactive leadership, I find myself being put into those situations, purely, I believe, by my well-trained subconscious.

What have I done?

Halfway into the first month of the second quarter of the year and what have I achieved?

Flash in the pan

That's me.

Lightning quick starts. Electrocuting impromptus. 

Then no more.

You see, even my #100happydays didn't make it halfway. It wasn't that I couldn't choose between a variety of happy things to focus on each day. Instead, since that last post, it was a slow but steady avalanche of happenings and responsibilities until I was feeling pretty overwhelmed.

I can admit it now, on hindsight, that I'm prone to bouts of depression, yet still partially aware that at some point if each period goes on too long, I will need to seek help and I'm not talking spiritually nor emotionally, but professionally.

I wanted to go home. Even when if I was at home, standing on the balcony in the middle of the night so I won't wake the danna, looking up into heat-lightning lit skies, all I could think of, all I could cry out silently was I want to go home. I didn't even know what that means.

Then came a whole load of work that tired me out so much physically until that I believe it was possible to block out half of my brain activity. A constant dull buzz droned at the back of my head and my thoughts were flitting about and never really settled until exhaustion draped over me.

My last blog post was about planning ahead, in terms of events for the rest of the year. Last week, there was some sort of a follow up on my progress and it hit me that I am still taking things for granted. I didn't take Lent seriously as planned in order to change and during the Holy Week leading to Easter, it was a blow in the face, a punch in the gut.

I was asked what were my strengths and with the answers I gave, my MD said that I 'very quickly went into my weaknesses' instead. How can I tell her that I work better alone, that I have a habit of having a period of silent observation before being proactive? I thought I would carve out some time, an hour or so, to write it all down and as usual, expect to be able to dig myself out from whatever shit hole I fell into.

Somehow, the danna, being the amazing person he is, put things into a different perspective for me. It's like trying to jump out of the shit hole and he's shown me that I can just churn the proverbial butter instead. Instead of being just a shoulder to lean on or being a sympathetic ear, he probes deeper to make me see things clearer. Marvellous, really, that it doesn't take much for him to break my walls. Must be all that badminton he plays xP

So instead of jumping into things too fast or holding back too long, I now know I need to not be adverse on seeking advice from others and listen to that little voice more closely without second guessing it.

It's a new start...close to a week into the second quarter of the year.

Wish me luck

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. 

20% of #100happydays

If the start of the new year was anything to go by as a sample of what 2015 will be for me, I forsee Late nights and lazy morning starts with plenty of craft, choir, and conversation in between.

DAY 11
 I started my new year by meeting Joleen's furry sisters: Randy, an European purebred Rottweiler and Ruby, an abandoned aging Golden Retriever.

Photo by Joleen 

 Yea, I was rubbing eye goop off Ruby's eyes. Ruby's story was a heart-breaking one, heard by many dog-lovers anywhere and everywhere.

Joleen used to have a male GT called Rudolf/Rudolph. Rudy, went missing one day and when Joleen's dad went around the neighbourhood to look for him, he chanced upon poor Ruby instead..

"When Ruby was found she was weak, aggressive and traumatized. It took a while for her to gain faith in human around her again. Initially she was timid, and reluctant to show her loving part to human.

After 3 years, Ruby is now the most gentle and beautiful soul dog ever. Tho she is getting older and suffering from rheumatism, but she never fail to spark a smile on her face."

An excerpt from Joleen's Jiffy Journal

It was a magnificent evening spent, learning about proper dog ownership and care, especially those who are attentive to proper dog breeding procedures. I also met another of my species, Edmund, and the three of us commiserated over the job scope/pay of our chosen field.

DAY 12
Luncheon with my girls!

Photo by Arvin where Edwina is missing

To my bestie's encouragement, I joined the Herbalife-promoted Fit Challenge and was reunited with Arvin from school, and met Kathireen.

Lunch at The Little Cottage near New World Park was a quick catch up since I stopped the Challenge for a couple of seasons due to a combination of reasons. The Fit Club grew in membership exponentially until there wasn't enough space to accommodate everyone and I was basically fed up of the crowd, over-enthusiasm and pushy Herbalife promoters.

However, the happy part about the luncheon was about a certain life phase that we were all going through: marriage. Or lack thereof.

Friends left right and centre were getting hitched or hitched or getting knocked up or knocking up...and we were wondering if we want the same thing or just not ready for it.


DAY 13
I saw a full moon.

You read right.

I just like shiny stuff ok?! A full moon that bright on that particular night was the best part...besides re-watching Big Hero 6 and laughing so hard until I nearly fell off my chair.


DAY 14
I love being in a choir and have only been in one during primary school and Form 6. Stuff like Vocal Point gives me such a nice buzz up my spine and makes me wanna cry.

That Sunday, a fellow parishioner came up to us and told us how touched she was by one of the songs (hymns?) we had sung. Hopefully, we'll be able to sing in tagalog, bahasa, mandarin (gasp!), tamil (double gasp!!) since we have migrants from the nearby industrial zones being part of our church.


DAY 15
My new phone is finally activated and cased in a Tiffany blue casing - time for a change since I'm sick of having red and black shizz for my gadgets.

Also, I feel extra grown up now after my sister finally transferred the ownership of my mobile number to me. Been having problems changing plans, sim cards, etc since she registered that number for me to use during my trips back during Oz's summer holidays.

I haz new toy!

DAY 16
Embarking on another frustrating and physically exhausting charitable project may not be anyone's happy thing but I've come to realise I do appreciate and 'enjoy' it to some extent.

This time it's for the catastrophic flooding in the East coast of Peninsula and at the time of writing, the danna and I have gone through a few hitches in this ride and expecting more. For a small, budget and time-restricted group, plenty of effort is needed but unfortunately not everyone is a 100% committed to such an idea of reaching out personally to disaster victims.

I'm skeptical myself, TBH, but as they say, 'with the grace of God..."

DAY 17

Painted bronzeback

Joleen and I were 'complaining' about the lack of animals spotted in the Garden due to the heat of the midday tropics and I was pitying the bats roasting under the palm leaves. Later on in the day, she found the painted bronzeback, hanging around the palms at the water garden.

I'm totally against handling snakes at shows or fair because they get handled too often by so many people. This disturbs their natural behaviour and increases their risk and exposure to zoonotic diseases. Hardly, you may think, due to the reptile-mammal relations but do you know, that they can get 'dried out' due to the constant contact?


DAY 18
I had a little impromptu meeting with my boss...by passing her my signed contract and the conversation led to what may be future planning which I've never done in my entire life.

So far, ideas and hopes are the norm for me but in terms of putting it effort to make it a commitment is something new for me.

Subconsciously, I've been doing that in other areas of my life as well, no matter how slow the efforts or how small the gestures - bit and pieces in the garden, at home... I find myself settling down and liking it.

Fuck. I'm old. Yay.

DAY 19
So I can be happy with a rainy day, a full moon, and now, a nighttime thunderstorm.

Home alone with the rains lashing down, skies lighting up, and I'm snug in my jammies doing some craftwork

A little personal project for the gift shop...will reveal later on when finished.


DAY 20

Was supposed to wake up at 7am and head to Youth Park for a little workout session with the girls but none of us were obviously enthusiastic enough to leave a comfy bed due to the cool weather from a night of rain.

So I went back to sleep and woke half hour to noon (gasp!) and had a rare brunch with dad alone.

The happy part? An awkward moment where the danna met dad later on at night...in a semi-official capacity. The both of them watched Johnny English 2 on TV while I was having a shower. Nobody kill anybone, no threats were made (as far as I know) by either party, no interrogations were done...

all good ^_^

10% of #100happydays

Starting off the new year of 2015 with finding something to be happy about for 100 days (minimum) under the hashtag "100 Happy Days" was the initial plan. Of course, nothing ever goes to plan for me. Planning doesn't come easy for me. I tend to want to plan things right down to the minute details on a pictometre.

What kickstarted my spontaneous #100happydays was the simple act of latching on to the wifi at work and updated all my applications. They got prettier. That was it. Seriously...that's how shallow I am.


^_^


I got the idea from an ex-sushi-making colleague who just got married. Her posts, consisting of a collage of pictures from each day, were infectious as she took us along the journey of wedding planning and other non-wedding happy happenings in her life.

Instead of following the same, and because of the spontaneity of my own project, I didn't post up a picture or a collage of pictures with a mini essay on what made me happy that day. So what happened was a picture, with one-word summaries.


DAY 1
As mentioned, was started off by updating all the applications on my tablet and the prettier widgets set off a flurry of silly, sparkly fireworks in my unbalanced hormonal state.

Truly, the little things.


DAY 2
My first Christmas present, Joleen gave me this thingamajig...an earphone port stuffer (??)
Yes, I have a weird affection for owls ever since Mick Todd, then a PhD candidate in UTAS in 2011, took us, a bunch of wet-behind-the-ears, eager-beaver undergraduates on an 'owl hunt' where he played some calls - territorial and mating calls. Screeching calls near midnight in total darkness? Fucking awesome experience.

Also, when I took this picture, I noticed that the books in the background were for once, non-fiction. Seeing as this was my desk at work, the genre of those books and the titles alone were a wake up call. That I may have finally, found my place in life. No...not botany specifically, but doing things I love to do and doing something unusual.


DAY 3
Another life goal came to realisation: wearing a saree.

Janita, my longest-time ever bestie, had bought me the material for Christmas in 2013. Late November, we finally went to Chennai Silk Palace in town to get it sewn. Since I wouldn't have anyone to help me tie/wrap/pleat on the spot, I had it ready made. Slightly shoddy workmanship for RM160 but the experience was worth it.

The turquoise chiffon with silver sequins stood out among the shimmery reds, blazing blues, sparklings golds of other sarees. Wouldn't say I stood out as the only Chinese wearing a saree...I was tripping all over the place and extremely self-conscious of my muffin top.

I didn't take a picture, sadly, because I was so caught up with the magical midnight mass I was attending. Hopefully next year I get to participate because that's how I've always preferred to experience things.

Christmas tree at my (hopefully future) home

DAY 4
Christmas Day!

Started off with another mass less than 7 hours after returning home from the midnight one and despite my sleepy state, I saw a cat on a motorcycle.

Ok, bear with me here. It wasn't a stray getting comfortable on a parked bike. It was one kitty, claws dug in securely into the seat, riding pillion, and getting ear and chin scratches from the owner when he stopped at the traffic lights.

A cat riding a bike. Got me so happy. And devastated I wasn't quick enough to snap a photo.

Also...I went to Butterworth. For significant reasons: Meeting the Family. More on that another time. If I feel like it. I'm too old to simply tell everyone everything now.

DAY 5
I GOT PAID!

LOL. Surely, everyone loves payday but not counting part-time jobs, this was my highest paycheck ever since graduating.

Highest paycheck in my career thus far. When I made up my mind to make it a principle in life not to work for money, no one told me that this field doesn't pay nuts. They also neglected to tell me the satisfaction of doing something worth waking up for.


DAY 6
Went over again to the mainland to meet up with my insane sistah, Esther, and Royston. Had a 4-day weekend journey with them and Z way back in October and...had quite a few new experiences that should've been experienced if I hadn't been so...cynical and pessimistic.

Fine. It was just drinking, alright? Like, heaps. Until I got rashes. The first time it happened was in Sandakan where I overdosed on seafood and boxed wine.

I was mixing quite a bit of hard liquor but thankfully, no puking was involved. Just plenty of giggling and stumbling.

The happy part for Day 6 was the high tea in Winter Warmers...and confessing to Esther the happiest thing in my life that had righted an effed up year.


DAY 7

4PAWS.

'nuff said.


DAY 8
I don't need elaborate and expensive gifts.
I don't need fancy events.

Leftover bridal floral arrangements given to pretty my desk and attract lil' bees are big enough gestures to make me melt.

A colleague snatched one from the cleanup of the wedding ceremony held over the weekend. Kenny may be gay but seriously.....not everyday I get flowers and I LOVE getting flowers, especially when they are so pretty and he doesn't have to spend a penny.

Pretty flowers are expensive and end up in my craft drawer or half dead in a pot.

...

DAY 9
Found out my whole life may have been a lie.

Sangria wasn't just ice cream soda, tinned peaches and sparkling (sometimes non-alcoholic) wine and orange juice.

At Mish Mash, a quiet pub on Muntri St, it was a full-bodied red wine with Cointreau, pineapple slices on a toothpick and a lot of other shizz that made my eyes sparkle like an anime character as I sat at the bar with Reuben, waiting for Jeffrey and Justin to turn up.

It was a nice catch up on post-Form 6 life. Touching the surface of the lives of others I haven't bothered to keep in contact TBH. Just to make conversation and enjoy light-hearted company. No other girls but gosh the gossip these boys can dish...!!!


DAY 10
Ending this post with something that's so typical of me:

I ran into this butterfly on the way down from lunch.

As usual, I walked into a tree. No, the overhanging leaves of a plant, really, but still...call it walking into a tree, and saw this pretty fella. Not moving despite the 'collision', the subsequent 'oooohhhh!!', and followed by a camera phone, looming very close, invading its' personal space.

I can't tell you the species because I'm not familiar at all with the flora and fauna of Malaysia. But ain't it preedieee thang????


Also, it was New Year's Eve.

The year...

Truly a December to remember where so many changes took place.

Instead of swimming to shore from the deep blue sea of microbiology and aquaculture to which I had thrown myself in July, I was barely treading water since my resignation.

November was a month where I was constantly losing time, my thoughts were trailing everywhere, I couldn't focus on a single thing for more than a quarter of an hour, and sometimes I just take several catnaps throughout the day just to screw my head back on.

Prayers were a constant cry for help...any help I can get. Gone were the days I prayed for something specific, for something not so vague and generic. No more words...just an empty space during quiet times, trying to listen and trying not to listen too hard until nothing can be heard.

It took a lot of courage for a person so naturally pessimistic to let go and let be.

But I did. I have. I will.



For as December draws to an end, I realised that all the instability and uncertainty that I've felt in the past two months were actually the changes needed in my life and some are still settling down in place.

Of course, not all changes are sweet and pleasant, and I truly, truly hope that some decisions taken are for the better, especially when they involve a decent amount of effort made in the past.




I wish I can truly say what I want to right now...but the one thing I'm trying to learn is that everything has it's place and time.


#100happydays was meant to be a planned event but me being me, I thought sooner was better than later which may be never.

Am I?

Am I just spoilt rotten that I am always looking for something more, something new, something different?

How happy am I with what I have now? Do I look for what I need instead of what I want? Do I acknowledge what I have and live with it?
If you look at the amount of eyeliners and mascara I own, the answer is probably no.


Am I just in actuality, an indecisive person leading a spontaneous lifestyle that jumps at every opportunity without much thought and then slip off due to lack of grip?

I didn't want to leave Sabah for a life of uncertainty in Penang so I grabbed the first thing I saw. On hindsight I should have bid my time despite my parents' assurance of support no matter what, and ignored my characteristic stubbornness.

Someone said to me once that I shouldn't be too independent. He was the superintendent of the university dorm I was staying at during the first year and a half of my undergraduate and those words were spoken to me after that creepy love letter episode following the naked dude episode.

Perhaps my unwillingness to ask and accept help when I am most in need of it was very obvious to others except myself. I am not the type to question...not that I haven't tried. The rare occassions I summon the courage to ask a 'stupid' question resulted in being ignored.

Ok, fine. I do speak too softly at times but that's beside the point.

No one has said no to me and I appreciate those resultant opportunities. However, those who didn't reject but stabbed my back are the ones who ended up making the bigger, longer lasting marks in my life. Hence,  another step to make will be to reorganise my goals, priorities, and mindset. The policy I live by from not making any effort for those who do not care must be enforced rigidly.

I'm taking that step backwards...to regain my balance, to start building a more long term and efficient momentum.

I tendered my resignation...after a mere 3-4 months of being thrown into the deep end of aquaculture and microbiology. I've been trying so hard to tread water not knowing I'm doing it all wrong and am actually drowning.

But...a door closes so another can open, right? It may not be a door but a window...whatever the escape hatch it, I'm going through it.


After all, I do get what I want. It's just the matter of how I get there and how am I surviving the journey.

Reshuffling life in a few steps

Yesterday,

I took the step in changing parishes.

From the Church of the Immaculate Conception, Pulau Tikus, where I've been baptised and confirmed, where I've formed my faith in the last 20 odd years, to the Church of the Divine Mercy, Sungai Ara.

Pretty big leap, geographically, but I made the decision not because the kareshi is based there (after branching from CHS), but because of the sense of belonging which I've lost since confirmation. Friends that have been with me since the formation years in catechism have all gone, and I wasn't comfortable in the couple of ministries I joined as an attempt to integrate myself into the community.

So when I was offered, nagged, and pushed into joining CDM, I gave in. The first few steps were naturally apprehensive, afraid of being singled out, and questioned. However, amazingly, despite the differences in a well rehearsed tradition of a celebration, I felt very much at home. There was an opportunity to mingle with like minded people, and to keep in touch with my new sayangs that I have met in Choice. I was asked to present the offertory gifts with Z, and instead of fear and stress that I would have had for such a public moment, all I felt was peace and love. It was like giving something up voluntarily and feeling all the better for it- like jumping off a cliff and enjoying the cool lagoon below and not splattered all over the bedrock. That moment may cause people to get a misconception about Z and I but really, everyone always have a misconception about me so why break tradition?

Proving small-minded people wrong is one of the best things in life for a sense of selfish entitlement and superiority.

Haha....ok, no. It's just fascinating to see how narrow- and single-tracked minded some people can be. It's like watching Spongebob.




Today,

I made a step in making it a personal mission to not give up on people. To be Dumbledore again, forever giving people a second chance. To allow a forever possibility to keep in touch, to keep our lives entwined.

It is a human trait to only do something that benefits oneself,  hence the recent lacklustre in communications between a group of friends. We blew up Whatsapp with 100s of messages a day in the first month and like a spawning event, it just...died down. People pulled out, started to say 'no', started to not just say 'no' but not responding at all.

Asking something from someone above the age of 5 without the promise of something in return is very difficult. Requesting time, effort, and especially money...they look for an investment or they look at it as a purchase. They want something back, more solid than gratitude. Understandable...the act of selflessness is a difficult thing and hence, is always looked upon as something commendable, encouraged but not pursued.


If I had pulled myself back...to think, to hell with them and their reserve, wouldn't I be like them?

So I'll commit to be myself, as usual, regardless of the quantity of responses towards friendships, relationships, and other commitments. My preference for quality time spent with those I care about and who cares enough in return is so much better than having life as a constant large-scale party.


The effort to keep in touch, will keep on going at least on my part. With some exceptions of course. Can't be keeping those filled with hypocrisy and negativity around...wouldn't make sense.

I wouldn't be me, oredi liddat.

Exhaust (ive) fumes

A week ago was my two month milestone at a job where I've explained to people that I run a (cannibalistic) confinement and nursery home.

I get paid a wage which was more of an allowance to play with crabs (the crustacean kind for you, gutter-minds) and water. Work started in a chaotic frame of mind since mostly everything is nearly everything I avoided in school and university - math and chemistry. Even my mediocre knowledge of crabs was the memory of the picture of my crab dissection in my 2nd year.

Last I wrote about was how I hit the ground running with adrenaline.

Now, I'm almost functioning on residual fumes.

To my absolute horror yet partial relief, this is nearly a 9-5 job. Minus the traffic jam since I head the opposite direction....away from the mass congregation of drones. I loathe having a chained-to-desk job but neither do I want to come home stinky and sweaty all the time. So far, it's been a good mix. I do have to run all over the place sometimes which is annoying because running around in a lab coat carrying beakers in thick lined gloves seems ominous. Breaks from desk work to go up and down several and many flights of stairs helps keep the butt expansion under control too.

I don't seem to remember a weekend that I could just while away the time on myself. I have had this on, that on, and before I know it, I'm neglecting the core for subsidiary one-offs such as routine household chores for a tai-chi introduction by a cousin who was back in Penang for a week or so before embarking on a year in London. Such as going for Break The Code games on a Sunday and miss out on a movie with Dad.

It does take a lot of effort to say yes. I made a promise to stop running away from people and saying yes to (almost) everyone is exhausting but saying no was, and is, harder.

Instead of saying no, can I hit the pause button? Ask for a raincheck? Reschedule?

A great fear or mine would be neglecting priorities - Sundays with dad. Evenings with mom and sisters. Time, any time at all with the kareshi. I came back for them but am I there for them?