Happy 200

Listening to: Stereophonics
“Don’t you know it’s gonna last?”

For my two hundredth post, you would think that I would choose to write about something awe inspiring and significant. Suffice to say, at 8.06 am on a Friday morning and on the brink of the Christmas season I don’t really have that kind of capacity in me. I will however say, that Christmas came early for me this year. As in, Santa decided to hand me one of the things on my Christmas List.

Well not hand, but for a very suitable price I would literally call it almost free.

Number 4 on that list, in particular.
Let me recapitulate.

“4/ A pair of beautiful, well fit, bright red heels (sexiness optional).
I will roam the malls and halls and streets and highways until I find the perfect pair – preferably before Christmas.”

And so it was and it was perfect on every count.
Beautiful. Well fit (lovely size sevens). The perfect shade of bright red (not maroon, not fuschia, not pink).
I didn’t have to roam the streets and highways but I did have to go to One Utama, the Curve and finally Pyramid before I found her (they have to be her, I can’t refer to those lovely pearls as it, disgraceful!)
And I did find her yesterday, which to my count, is exactly one week before Christmas.

I didn’t think Vincci sold such lovely shoes until I saw her yesterday at the Padini Concept Store, some child had picked it up and was playing with her and my mother snatched it out of his hand and practically ran to me with them while I was snarling at a particularly hideous pair.

You know the feeling when you see something that is exactly what you were looking for and is meant just for you? Well, I saw them and as though I were meeting a soulmate, my heart leapt, this is no lie. Scientifically it was probably a heart palpitation and something I should look into but who cares at this point? Anyhoo, I rushed to the nearest bored looking shop assistant and asked for a fitting.

At this point in my fantasies what happens is the shopgirl would come up to me and boredly exclaim, “Solly madam, biggest size is five,” and sneer at me as though I were some size thirteen giantess. To which I would prepare to launch into a long lecture, about how the average foot size for an Asian woman is usually from five to seven and even if it weren’t, a five would definitely NOT be considered the BIGGEST size unless we were in Liliput, before my mother dragged me away while shading her face in shame.

However no worries here, she came out holding a white box and unwrapped the soft paper from within and brought her out. As I swallowed my lecture and slumped down to slip them on, I knew even before putting them on that they would fit.

And they did. Like a dream.

You know what makes it even better.
They were 20% off, so I really only had to pay less than RM50.

Do you know I traversed through Nine West and Guess but found these pearls at Vincci and at such an affordable price? I was so overwhelmed by the entire situation I developed a pounding headache and proceeded to speak in a loud voice the entire way back.

Entirely worth it.

I’m glad I spent my 200th post talking about her. And since I do not have fully charged camera batteries at the moment, I can only write about them and I’m sure since I’ve already hyped her up, she might not look as good in person (yes, she’s a beautiful person with a soul) but I don’t care.

I have her. Number four on my Christmas list.
My perfect bright red heels.

As my mother said to me as I skipped into the elevator after my shopping yesterday, ‘It takes so little to make you happy.’ Actually, it wasn’t so little, I had the perfect number 4 in my head and she epitomized it. As any woman will tell you, it’s not just a pair of shoes. I can’t even begin to explain this concept of what makes a woman love her shoes. The right pair of heels not only accentuates your heels, it adjusts your posture, allowing you to walk and stand tall. This induces some feeling of confidence makes you look and feel attractive hence improving your self esteem. You walk into a room with grace and you feel as though you own it. And you men, you don’t look at the shoes, but you definitely look at the legs, and it helps to have a great pair to help us out. Plus, it’s just a bonus when it looks hot. As we all know, when you look good, you’ll feel good too. And it’s how you feel about yourself that matters, not any one else.

Anyway enough with the excuses. Sometimes there doesn’t need to be a reason, because when it feels that good, it’s just good.

When you say nothing at all

Listening to: Earlimat
“The shadows of doubt on how things turn out is typically gray.”

It’s that time of the year.

I’m badly waiting to be done with this and go on a much much much deserved break. Nowadays I constantly look like I’m in need of a shower, I’m unkempt, messy and in need of a good grooming, bed and spa treatment. If someone places a ten ringgit note in front of me when I bend down to tie my shoelaces in public, I wouldn’t blame them. However in 24 sweet hours I’ll be done with this.

I will officially be a Bachelor of Biomedical Science (BMedSc) (Hons.) graduate. It took four years of my life to come to this and I had to do it in two continents and on a scholarship. My next career plan is to try and apply for a PhD and hopefully if I get an offer I’ll finally be paid to do research and at the end of 3.5 years, the PhD will be a passport for me for any job scope within my field.

I do have one thorn in my side, though, and be warned, this is a fairly big one.
When people ask me what my career plan is and I tell them about possibly continuing with a PhD they immediately get a WTF look on their face and they say something inane like, what? Study again? Is there no end? And then they turn to look at my mother as though she’s just announced that I’ve decided to eat my own baby.

And to all those people I would like to say quite humbly, whathefuck, back. I do not understand such reasoning.

Let me clarify.
A PhD (which is a Doctorate of Philosophy for you cretins) in science does not entail a bunch of students sitting in a classroom studying endlessly. It’s a research project that is planned, perfected, troubleshooted and reported over three years or so. It is hours of toil and labor and learning and lessons and heart ache and small successes and finally you become a master of that area of research and you learn so much more than by just sitting in a class room for hours. Due to the amount of hours spent over this project, a PhD scholarship is awarded so that you are paid as if you would for a full time job, because it literally does become a full time job. You go for conferences, attend seminars, training, workshops – the whole nine fecking yards.

It is approximately a 3-4 year commitment and as such many people decide to work for a while before they decide whether or not they want to do their PhD. Fair enough. However, being the commitment that it is, I would prefer to do my PhD now while I have the time and energy to devote to it. Besides, it is something I truly want to do. If I can find the right project, supervisor and lab, I will continue on with my PhD.

It is not an easy peasy lemon squeasy kind of affair that you do just because you’re afraid of entering the work force and quit living on your parents money – well, not until the local aunties come along and wag their fingers at your mother and announce that they have deemed it unworthy.

Well excuse me, but if you don’t understand fuck, don’t say boo about it.
I seriously cannot stand it when people criticize that which they do not understand and gossip about it at bus stop stands. Besides wet toilet seats, that is seriously becoming a pet peeve of mine.

Oh and by the way, some people wear their hearts (and unfortunately their distaste) on their sleeves so obviously that I wonder if they have ever heard of the word tact. Is a PhD so bad? Have I inadvertently announced that I am planning to shave my head bald and call myself Roland? (which honestly isn’t so bad either although my mother may choose to disagree)

Oh and another thing. This business about them saying I must be confused about my life direction and therefore am too afraid to go into the working world so that I’ve now decided to continue studying by doing a postgraduate degree. Pity her, couldn’t make it abroad so she came back and now she can’t start work, she’s going to study something new.

Exfuckingcuse me. Pity? PITY?

I have worked too hard and too long for some ignorant (insert obscenity here) to tear it down to : She couldn’t make it.

The only reason you should pity me was that I was not there to hear those words come out of your own mouths. A PhD is not for the confused or pitiful or lost or aimless. A requirement for a PhD in Australia (which is where my degree is based) is a three year undergraduate degree (BSc) and an additional honours year based entirely on research (Hons.). An entire year. And since I could not afford an additional year overseas, I was awarded a scholarship to do it at an Australian university branch here. All so I could continue with a postgraduate degree if I chose to, which I now would if I am given the chance.

Sigh. I don’t mind if people don’t get it, it’s okay, we’re all ignorant about some thing. But do not judge that which you do not understand. It seems that the further out of high school I go, the more it seems to catch up with me.

I apologize for what appears to be an entire post filled with my own excuses but I think this deserves to be said, if not for any one else’s benefit, but for mine. It’s been a long hard four years and I spent a lot of it grappling with my own insecurities and fears and turmoil. However I came through it quite well, by the grace of God, and I am finally done. The last thing I need to deal with are people who feel the need to tear me down just because I am now 23 and have not turned to wedding manuals or a nice cushy office job. I apologize for not having the right words (re: tact) to say all this as coolly as possible, but then again, tact was never one of my fortés.

So I’ll say it like it is.

When you have nothing nice to say, do as Ronan Keating once advised in a song when we all thought he was over and done with Boyzone, say nothing at all.

Dear Santa,

Enclosed herewith is My Christmas List:

5/ Enlightenment on the next phase of my life.

4/ A pair of beautiful, well fit, bright red heels (sexiness optional).
I will roam the malls and halls and streets and highways until I find the perfect pair – preferably before Christmas.

3/ To lose an itty bit more weight.

2/ Wentworth Miller. On a platter.

1/ A blessed Christmas. This year has been bad enough.
Thank God it’s almost the end of 2008.

So you think you get boring emails?

Dear Anisha,

Hahahah heyyy misssy -

Thanks for your email, I’ve been missing u and His Wentworthiness a lot lately – sadly I am STILL at episode 5 of Prison Break (I KNOW I KNOW I should hang myself with shame) but I can’t help myself, it’s a combination of many things really, I’m a bit lazy and well… that’s about it :p but I PROMISE I’ll get down to it.

We’ve had plenty of family staying over ’cause my cousin goes of to the army for 2 years today and they can’t come for their annual xmas thingie, and I’ve been living like bit of a nomad lately cuz ppl keep using my room and I have to wander from room to room with my towel and a change of clothes just in case said ppl decide to sleep late and lock the door and I can’t get in to use my stuff.. it’ s complex. But I took 5 days off work and had an awesome time nonetheless. In the midst of all the crowd while everybody was busy preparing lunch (and I was busy watching Ugly Betty and eating chocolate) we got a call that my brother had injured himself while playing futsal and had to be rushed to the hospital.

So then there was the flurry of departures into the car and it was raining so heavily and my mom came in her sauce-stained blouse because she was so worried that she didn’t change out of the top she was using to marinate the chicken and we rushed to the hospital in the rain and my dad parked the car so suddenly, he turned off the engine without putting the wipers down. Anyway. His trauma emergency doctor on call was someone named Osama and he said that my brother had fractured his collarbone in three places but his blood test was within normal but they needed to do a CAT scan bec he had passed out after the collision and they were afraid there was some internal bleeding. Anyway, everything turned out okay and they kept him overnight for observation but my poor grandmother spent her birthday in the hospital with him and we couldn’t collect that gorgeous mud cake we had booked, sigh sigh sigh…

Anyways this week was something else. Since I took Monday and Tuesday off, I came in on Wednesday and found out that there has been a series of strange happenings at work. As in a daily occurrence, like somebody has been playing pranks for fun but nobody knows who it is and some of it is becoming pretty serious.

We have many theories as to what may be happening. One – its probably a string of events that’s just occurring in a highly coincidental fashion. Two – it’s a ghost, and it’s not unlikely – the med school cadaver(s) are downstairs (scary enough I would say!). Three – that somebody is playing a mean mean prank and doesn’t know any better. And four (and probably scariest) – that it’s some sort of sabotage. I’m betting on One because nothing as interesting as a ghost ever happens to me so that’s that. Everybody is sort of wondering what else is in store.

Anyway that’s the grand recent happenings of my life -_- nothing as exciting as the wedding you attended but I thought I should give you sth too hahaha — and wow, props to you for playing your role as bridesmaid appropriately, I would have dropped all the trays, fallen over my sari, broken the mirror and cursed myself for seven years.

OH I watched Twilight and the guy who played Cedric Diggory in Harry Potter (Robert Pattinson) is in it and can I say, it was a total chick flick but HE WAS SO INSANELY hot, I want to date a vampire myself now. Hahaha, what else what else?

Yep that’s it – I plan to wrap up work by next Friday and then start Xmas shopping and cookie baking and tree decorating and sleeping in. Sigh sigh sigh. Countingcounting.

I miss you muchness, please do email me about all the weddings you’re supposed to be attending seeing as how it’s wedding season in your family and all but if you get yourself hitched without telling me I will come and murder you myself.

Lots of wentloving,
Feli

The rationalization of fear

Listening to: Paramore
“They taped over your mouth, scribbled out the truth with their lies.”

Enough.
Enough of being afraid and scared and nervous and calculating.

There is power in liberation and we are free men.
Bound to no man, free to live.

No need to be inhibited by fear, if there is anything that needs to rein us in, anything at all, fear should not be one of them. Fear incapacitates and robs us of our dignity and the capacity to stand tall – it is probably the only guard that keeps us captive through our own free will.

How foolish!
That so many have fought selflessly for freedom and we keep ourselves locked in our own fear. In a cage of our own doing.
How needless! If regret comes from fear then we have nobody to blame but ourselves.

Sometimes it is easier to fight an external enemy, something tangible and real, something visible. Visual sensory perception is an important necessity for a better evaluation of the environment, if you can see what you fight, you have a better chance of defining its weaknesses and defeat it.

But fear – fear, that tricky thing, can not be touched or seen or heard. It defies sight and sound and taste but it is still very much present. Fear can be smelt and felt but when we cannot see it, we are trained to believe we cannot fight it. It is a funny thing, this fear, but it is real and when caught in its grips, it is a mighty struggle.

However, unlike the common adversary, it is one that cannot be beaten by avoidance or trickery. To defeat it, there must be a battle. To face your fears, is half the battle won. To deal with it, is the entire victory. And it is the only adversary where rationalizing it, makes it powerless.

It is an adversary of our making.
It is nothing.
It is needless.

Enough of fear.
I’m sick of it.

Traust

trust

Etymology
From Old Norse traust

Pronunciation:

• IPA: /tɹʌst/

Noun

trust (plural trusts)

1. Confidence in or reliance on some person or quality.

2. Dependence upon something in the future; hope.

3. Confidence in the future payment for goods or services supplied; credit.

   I was out of cash, but the landlady let me have it on trust.

4. (rare) Trustworthiness, reliability.
5. (law) The confidence vested in a person who has legal ownership of a property to manage for the benefit of another.
6. A group of businessmen or traders organized for mutual benefit to produce and distribute specific commodities or services, and managed by a central body of trustees.

hope

Pronunciation

• (GenAm) IPA: /hɔʊp/, SAMPA: /hoUp/

Noun

hope (countable and uncountable; plural hopes)

1. (uncountable) The belief or expectation that something wished for can or will happen.

   I still have some hope that I can get to work on time.

2. (countable) The actual thing wished for
3. (countable)
   

   A person or thing that is a source of hope

   We still have one hope left: my roommate might see the note I left on the table.

4. (in Christianity) The virtuous desire for future good

   But now abideth faith, hope, love, these three; and the greatest of these is love. (1Cor. 13:13)

Conclusion

Confidence
Dependence
Hopefuturegood
source of hope

Words are much easier to write and read than they are to actually put into practice.

Figures.

Dear all,

To everybody who sent me birthday messages, there are too many to count and I feel so blessed to have you all in my life and you guys know who you are. I thank God everyday for all you guys and your warm texts and messages and calls and gifts definitely hit a home run in my heart, God bless you all.

Love,
Felicia