Thursday, 27 November 2008 @ 7.55pm
I was once told that God will test you to your limit because he knows your strength. He will push you to that limit and it's up to you how you deal with it.
I think I'm going through a test. A test of patience, perseverance, will power and strength. If you've been a faithful reader of my blog, you'll notice that I've had a pretty shit couple of months (and a pretty busy one too). Yesterday, things were starting to change.
My superior and boss called me into the conference room for a 'chat'. I knew something was up. I sat down and my boss said, "Do you dread coming to work?" My heart stopped. Shit. They've been watching me and they see that yes, I do dread coming to this job. It's only been two weeks and I feel restricted. I feel like a high-paid despatch boy.
I told them the truth. I told them it's a change and I'm still adjusting. I told them that I feel like a high-paid despatch boy (in my exact words, "I feel like I'm just here to pass along work"). NOOO! That was my boss's reply. "I can see that there's so much more in there dying to come out. You can brainstorm with designers and you can put in your suggestions. Anna, you're the perfect person for this job because you're an ex-writer. You're the link between this company and our clients. We've placed you with G********* because we feel you're the one best suited for this job." She went on and on until I said, "So...you're saying that I can work here the way I did at Trix?" YEESSS!!! They immediately start launching into quick sentences:
N: "You can still be in control. You just won't be doing the physical writing."
V: "You're an extra pair of eyes, and you can help spot something if we miss out on anything."
N: "You can deal so well with clients."
V: "You know how to speak properly and interat with them. N, I've seen Mrs H and she loves Anna!"
And it went on and on. Then it hit me. Oh my god. I can actually do better. I can actually do more. I'm ALLOWED to do all these things! I didn't know that!!! AARRRGGHHH!!! I've wasted two weeks!
Today, I launched into full mode. It's been non-stop since my 10am meeting, then 3pm and 5pm discussions. Then taking on work for N while she's away. I'm doing good.
Comes 6.30pm. I'm thinking of leaving the office. Spend a little time with Eddie before I rush on out to Kostari. But... what did I tell you earlier? It's a test. It's all a test. When one thing goes well, another will surely go down.
Right now it's 8.10pm. I'm still in the office. And I'm about to go pick up A**** so we can do Kostari.
In my FB, my status says, Anna R**** misses Eddie :( I was hoping to replace it with something a little more cheerful today. Guess not.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Monday, November 24, 2008
A hell of a weekend
Tuesday, 25 November 2008 @ 12.50pm
Thursday, 20 November 2008
It was 7pm and I was still in the office. Traffic wasn't letting up. I was standing by the office window looking at the row of red lights barely moving. I had to use that road. I had an appointment with Kostari. At 7.30pm, I decided to brave traffic thinking it wouldn't be so bad.
At 9.45pm, I was still in the car. I hadn't moved in 20 minutes. I'd miss a turning, which led me to sitting in heavy traffic, all wanting to make a U-turn as well. My mood had changed. I was late and people were waiting for me. I hate being late and I hate when people have to wait for me. I find it rude. My phone kept ringing but I was ignoring it. The last time I picked it up it was Mrs Moore. She was concerned about me. I was swearing at her. So I decided not to answer any calls till I reached the office. Mrs N also tried to call. I ignored her too.
I reached at 10.20pm. My back was aching. My knee was numb and I wasn't in the mood to play nice. Mrs Moore was there to greet me at the elevator but I was being mean. My mood was still sour. When I walked in the office, Mrs N immediately launched into a ramble of words, "poor thing.", "We bought you dinner.", "Eat first." I put my things down and said, "let's get started."
The meeting ended at 11.15pm. Mrs N's husband was calling, refusing to eat dinner till she got home. Mr and Mrs Moore and I had planned to watch a movie. I was starting to smile. Especially when Eddie said he was finishing work at 11.30pm and he could join us.
We reached Pavilion at 11.45pm. Eddie was sitting at the bar at Michelangelo's, across from where I'd first met him. His helmet sat beside him. He was having his dinner. Poor baby. During the movie, things started to get a little tense between Eddie and I. I wanted attention and he was too tired to give me any. We ended up going our separate ways afterwards. My mood turned sour again as I drove home.
Friday, 21 November 2008
I'd just reached home from work at about 8pm. I'd eaten and showered, and was setting up my laptop in the hopes of starting the presentation for Kostari. Papa wanted to have a talk. I'd been keeping silent for a while now. I figured it's the same. And guess what? It is. In Ina's words, "kalau diam, dia orang cakap kau melawan. Kalau menjawab, dia orang panggil kau biadap." (If you keep quiet, they say you're rebelling. If you answer back, you're rude.)
After my discussion with Papa, I couldn't think. I'd had an extremely long and tiring day at work and was just about to start Kostari. I could feel the anger building up. This shit again?
Eddie was working - he was doing closing again. In almost a daze, I changed my clothes. Took my car keys and drove. I didn't know where I was going. I didn't have a destination. So I just drove. I needed to clear my mind. Earlier in the day I'd already started feeling the tension in my shoulders. Boy, was I wrong when I thought I could work at home.
I drove aimlessly around KL for about an hour and a half. I ended up parked at the side of the road near a night market. And I just stared out the window for a while more. Ina was sms-ing me. Telling me to calm down, and go home. It was stupid and dangerous for me to be out and about alone at that time of night on a Friday. But I couldn't take it anymore. There's never any fucking peace.
They're rejecting Eddie on the basis that...what? I don't know. You tell me. That he's only AM in Dome? That his English is not good? That he's from a kampung? What? What? What? Did they give him a chance? Not even fucking once. Did they remember that they were once like him too? Finding their way in life? Making a life for themselves? A degree doesn't equal happiness and prosperity. You should know that.
No. Ayah has been wanting to meet Papa. He's invited Papa to Ima's wedding. I just haven't given the card. But they're going to have to meet one day right? But since I'm the youngest, my decisions are always wrong. I never know what I'm talking about. I can't think for myself. There's always someone there to brainwash me. I kena bomoh. For fuck's sake la. Please. Open your fucking mind and try to accept that there's a possibility that I can think for myself and I know what I'm doing. People make mistakes. But I learn from my mistakes. It's the ones who think they're right and repeat their mistakes that you should worry about.
Saturday, 22 November 2008
There was a birthday party at 10am. I got ready and left the house. Working at Get Crafty always seems to make me relaxed. Even though there are kids and parents to deal with, the atmosphere and the people I work with make me want to go back without any qualms. I arrived at 9.30am and saw Iqbal pasting the 'Happy Birthday' sign on the window. His face lit up, "Finally! Someone to talk to! I've been alone for half an hour!" First smile of the day.
As head CSR of the day, I dealt mostly with parents signing in and helping children choose a craft to make. I only taught about six kids during the birthday party. And the rest of the day was signing up , promoting Get Crafty and playing with the teachers. It was a good day. I managed to sign up 15 new kids :)
At about 5 or 6pm that day, I was just about to start taking down the 'Happy Birthday' sign when someone came up to me and started pulling down the sign. A little scream came out and I realised it was Mr and Mrs Moore. Another smile for the day.
Sunday, 22 November 2008
I met Eddie for breakfast that morning. I was starting work at 11am. He starts at 12.30pm. The sms I received that morning upset him. He was jealous. He should be. He knows why. Things were patched up. Sometimes a little bit of jealousy goes a long way.
This day ended with a pounding migraine. I drove home at 12.30am that night wearing sunglasses. Haha. First laugh of today.
NOTE: If everything I write in my blog hurts your feelings, stop reading it.
Thursday, 20 November 2008
It was 7pm and I was still in the office. Traffic wasn't letting up. I was standing by the office window looking at the row of red lights barely moving. I had to use that road. I had an appointment with Kostari. At 7.30pm, I decided to brave traffic thinking it wouldn't be so bad.
At 9.45pm, I was still in the car. I hadn't moved in 20 minutes. I'd miss a turning, which led me to sitting in heavy traffic, all wanting to make a U-turn as well. My mood had changed. I was late and people were waiting for me. I hate being late and I hate when people have to wait for me. I find it rude. My phone kept ringing but I was ignoring it. The last time I picked it up it was Mrs Moore. She was concerned about me. I was swearing at her. So I decided not to answer any calls till I reached the office. Mrs N also tried to call. I ignored her too.
I reached at 10.20pm. My back was aching. My knee was numb and I wasn't in the mood to play nice. Mrs Moore was there to greet me at the elevator but I was being mean. My mood was still sour. When I walked in the office, Mrs N immediately launched into a ramble of words, "poor thing.", "We bought you dinner.", "Eat first." I put my things down and said, "let's get started."
The meeting ended at 11.15pm. Mrs N's husband was calling, refusing to eat dinner till she got home. Mr and Mrs Moore and I had planned to watch a movie. I was starting to smile. Especially when Eddie said he was finishing work at 11.30pm and he could join us.
We reached Pavilion at 11.45pm. Eddie was sitting at the bar at Michelangelo's, across from where I'd first met him. His helmet sat beside him. He was having his dinner. Poor baby. During the movie, things started to get a little tense between Eddie and I. I wanted attention and he was too tired to give me any. We ended up going our separate ways afterwards. My mood turned sour again as I drove home.
Friday, 21 November 2008
I'd just reached home from work at about 8pm. I'd eaten and showered, and was setting up my laptop in the hopes of starting the presentation for Kostari. Papa wanted to have a talk. I'd been keeping silent for a while now. I figured it's the same. And guess what? It is. In Ina's words, "kalau diam, dia orang cakap kau melawan. Kalau menjawab, dia orang panggil kau biadap." (If you keep quiet, they say you're rebelling. If you answer back, you're rude.)
After my discussion with Papa, I couldn't think. I'd had an extremely long and tiring day at work and was just about to start Kostari. I could feel the anger building up. This shit again?
Eddie was working - he was doing closing again. In almost a daze, I changed my clothes. Took my car keys and drove. I didn't know where I was going. I didn't have a destination. So I just drove. I needed to clear my mind. Earlier in the day I'd already started feeling the tension in my shoulders. Boy, was I wrong when I thought I could work at home.
I drove aimlessly around KL for about an hour and a half. I ended up parked at the side of the road near a night market. And I just stared out the window for a while more. Ina was sms-ing me. Telling me to calm down, and go home. It was stupid and dangerous for me to be out and about alone at that time of night on a Friday. But I couldn't take it anymore. There's never any fucking peace.
They're rejecting Eddie on the basis that...what? I don't know. You tell me. That he's only AM in Dome? That his English is not good? That he's from a kampung? What? What? What? Did they give him a chance? Not even fucking once. Did they remember that they were once like him too? Finding their way in life? Making a life for themselves? A degree doesn't equal happiness and prosperity. You should know that.
No. Ayah has been wanting to meet Papa. He's invited Papa to Ima's wedding. I just haven't given the card. But they're going to have to meet one day right? But since I'm the youngest, my decisions are always wrong. I never know what I'm talking about. I can't think for myself. There's always someone there to brainwash me. I kena bomoh. For fuck's sake la. Please. Open your fucking mind and try to accept that there's a possibility that I can think for myself and I know what I'm doing. People make mistakes. But I learn from my mistakes. It's the ones who think they're right and repeat their mistakes that you should worry about.
Saturday, 22 November 2008
There was a birthday party at 10am. I got ready and left the house. Working at Get Crafty always seems to make me relaxed. Even though there are kids and parents to deal with, the atmosphere and the people I work with make me want to go back without any qualms. I arrived at 9.30am and saw Iqbal pasting the 'Happy Birthday' sign on the window. His face lit up, "Finally! Someone to talk to! I've been alone for half an hour!" First smile of the day.
As head CSR of the day, I dealt mostly with parents signing in and helping children choose a craft to make. I only taught about six kids during the birthday party. And the rest of the day was signing up , promoting Get Crafty and playing with the teachers. It was a good day. I managed to sign up 15 new kids :)
At about 5 or 6pm that day, I was just about to start taking down the 'Happy Birthday' sign when someone came up to me and started pulling down the sign. A little scream came out and I realised it was Mr and Mrs Moore. Another smile for the day.
Sunday, 22 November 2008
I met Eddie for breakfast that morning. I was starting work at 11am. He starts at 12.30pm. The sms I received that morning upset him. He was jealous. He should be. He knows why. Things were patched up. Sometimes a little bit of jealousy goes a long way.
This day ended with a pounding migraine. I drove home at 12.30am that night wearing sunglasses. Haha. First laugh of today.
NOTE: If everything I write in my blog hurts your feelings, stop reading it.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
A tribute
Friday, 21 November 2008 @ 9.45am
It's times like this that you see who you can really depend on. I have four people who are willing to back me up when I don't have the support and pull me back up when I'm falling. Genuine people are hard to come by and I'm more than lucky to have these four.
A**** - for meeting me at Bangsar that night. For listening to me. For not judging me. For not being a hypocrite. For always being there for me, even after all these years. For making me feel so relaxed that night that for the first time in weeks, I actually wanted to sleep.
F******* - for always calling me and asking me how I am. For handing me that **** when I saw her on Wednesday. For always offering me her home to stay. For always offering me an extra hand when I need help. For always trusting and believing in me.
A**** - for being a good sister, a good friend, a good listener. For always giving me a hug when you know I need it. For always calling me at the worst possible times but only because you know I needed that call to say you're there for me.
F***** - for allowing me to be my crazy, OCD self. For always asking how I'm doing. For always kacau-ing me through SMS. For always turning back to make sure I'm there if I'm one step behind. For being a great man and pillar of strength for my sister.
I don't know how else to say thank you at the moment. I have tried being a good friend to you in the short and long times that I have known each of you. I admit. I'm fragile at the moment. And in this last week, each and every one of you have shown me that I did not make a bad choice in choosing you to be my friend.
You all know that I don't like to be pushed. You all know that I just sometimes need silence. You all know that sometimes I need a hug. You all know that sometimes I just need a few words of encouragement And you all know when I need you.
Thank you.
It's times like this that you see who you can really depend on. I have four people who are willing to back me up when I don't have the support and pull me back up when I'm falling. Genuine people are hard to come by and I'm more than lucky to have these four.
A**** - for meeting me at Bangsar that night. For listening to me. For not judging me. For not being a hypocrite. For always being there for me, even after all these years. For making me feel so relaxed that night that for the first time in weeks, I actually wanted to sleep.
F******* - for always calling me and asking me how I am. For handing me that **** when I saw her on Wednesday. For always offering me her home to stay. For always offering me an extra hand when I need help. For always trusting and believing in me.
A**** - for being a good sister, a good friend, a good listener. For always giving me a hug when you know I need it. For always calling me at the worst possible times but only because you know I needed that call to say you're there for me.
F***** - for allowing me to be my crazy, OCD self. For always asking how I'm doing. For always kacau-ing me through SMS. For always turning back to make sure I'm there if I'm one step behind. For being a great man and pillar of strength for my sister.
I don't know how else to say thank you at the moment. I have tried being a good friend to you in the short and long times that I have known each of you. I admit. I'm fragile at the moment. And in this last week, each and every one of you have shown me that I did not make a bad choice in choosing you to be my friend.
You all know that I don't like to be pushed. You all know that I just sometimes need silence. You all know that sometimes I need a hug. You all know that sometimes I just need a few words of encouragement And you all know when I need you.
Thank you.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Lost
Wednesday, 19 November 2008 @ 8.40pm
It was about 3pm when it happened. It was raining and I was stuck in traffic on my way to a client's office. I zoned out and I didn't know where I was. For a moment I was lost. I didn't know what day it was, where I was, where I was going or what I was doing. A few seconds later, I snapped out of it.
Now that was scary.
It was about 3pm when it happened. It was raining and I was stuck in traffic on my way to a client's office. I zoned out and I didn't know where I was. For a moment I was lost. I didn't know what day it was, where I was, where I was going or what I was doing. A few seconds later, I snapped out of it.
Now that was scary.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
I hope you realise
Wednesday, 19 November 2008 @ 9.40am
I hope you realise that damage has been done.
I hope you realise that this time it's serious.
I hope you realise that things will be different.
I hope you realise that not everything can be solved through a 'discussion'.
I hope you realise that things are not going to be the same.
I hope you realise that I am changing.
I hope you realise that I'm young and I'm learning quickly.
I hope you realise that I'm distancing myself for a good reason.
I hope you realise that I need some time.
I hope you realise that I'm under a lot of pressure.
I hope you realise that I'm under a lot of stress.
I hope you realise that I prefer to be left alone.
I hope you realise that I cannot stand listening to the same repetitive bullshit that I hear everyday.
I hope you realise that it's you who's slowly pushing me away.
I hope you realise that as you're pushing me away, there's always someone there to comfort me instead.
I hope you realise that I'm not going to make an effort to find a solution because there never is one.
I hope you realise I'm trying to find a way out.
I hope you realise that I'm working as hard as fuck to find that way out.
And I hope you realise that I won't be censoring what I write in my blog anymore.
I hope you realise that damage has been done.
I hope you realise that this time it's serious.
I hope you realise that things will be different.
I hope you realise that not everything can be solved through a 'discussion'.
I hope you realise that things are not going to be the same.
I hope you realise that I am changing.
I hope you realise that I'm young and I'm learning quickly.
I hope you realise that I'm distancing myself for a good reason.
I hope you realise that I need some time.
I hope you realise that I'm under a lot of pressure.
I hope you realise that I'm under a lot of stress.
I hope you realise that I prefer to be left alone.
I hope you realise that I cannot stand listening to the same repetitive bullshit that I hear everyday.
I hope you realise that it's you who's slowly pushing me away.
I hope you realise that as you're pushing me away, there's always someone there to comfort me instead.
I hope you realise that I'm not going to make an effort to find a solution because there never is one.
I hope you realise I'm trying to find a way out.
I hope you realise that I'm working as hard as fuck to find that way out.
And I hope you realise that I won't be censoring what I write in my blog anymore.
Monday, November 17, 2008
Jaywalking
Tuesday, 18 November 2008 @ 1.30pm
When I'm driving and I see someone waiting at the side of the road to cross the zebra walk, I'll stop and let them pass. And without any acknowledgement or thankfulness, they STRUT across the road. Yes I understand they've been given a right to cross at the pedestrian walk, but do they really have to take their own sweet time walking across the road?!? To top that off, they also give you that look. That look! Arggghh!!!
Now that I've started parking across the road from my new office (I can only afford to get the monthly pass for the parking in the building when I get my pay next month - it's RM300!!!! With deposit for first month la, but still!!), I've had to take what has come to be known as my suicidal attempts to cross this road twice a day.
For RM4 for the whole day, I get to leave Lily in the hot sun for the whole day. And for that price, I take my suicidal journey to cross the road. And mind you, there are TWO roads that needs to be crossed to reach the other side!
Here are some tips on how to cross "safely":
1. Don't cross alone. There's always about 25 other people waiting by the side of the road waiting for that perfect moment to run across with the hopes that they won't (1) get hit by a car/bus/lorry/motorbike (2) get called "bodoh" while crossing and (3) get their belongings stolen by some fucker on a bike.
2. Watch for blinking indicators. Your best bet to attempt crossing the road - and oh, by the way, there's no traffic light where I'm crossing but three lanes (on each side, which makes six altogether!) to worry about - is when you see a car signalling to drive into the lot where you car is parked. Opportunity! Take it and run!
3. Follow the leader. In the 25 people (including you) waiting by the road side, there will always be ONE person who will stand at the very end and he (or sometimes she - usually an older chinese lady) will take a step forward. That's our signal to be prepared to follow him. Besides, if anything happens, he gets hit first. Lessens the impact.
4. Watch for bikes. They really come out of nowhere! And they tend to purposely go a little faster when approaching you.
So till I get my pay (please let it be next week), I will be attempting suicide at about 8.50am every morning and 7pm every evening. By the way, did I forget to mention that this is in one of the busiest roads in the city? Pray for me people. Or you can always loan me RM300 ;P
When I'm driving and I see someone waiting at the side of the road to cross the zebra walk, I'll stop and let them pass. And without any acknowledgement or thankfulness, they STRUT across the road. Yes I understand they've been given a right to cross at the pedestrian walk, but do they really have to take their own sweet time walking across the road?!? To top that off, they also give you that look. That look! Arggghh!!!
Now that I've started parking across the road from my new office (I can only afford to get the monthly pass for the parking in the building when I get my pay next month - it's RM300!!!! With deposit for first month la, but still!!), I've had to take what has come to be known as my suicidal attempts to cross this road twice a day.
For RM4 for the whole day, I get to leave Lily in the hot sun for the whole day. And for that price, I take my suicidal journey to cross the road. And mind you, there are TWO roads that needs to be crossed to reach the other side!
Here are some tips on how to cross "safely":
1. Don't cross alone. There's always about 25 other people waiting by the side of the road waiting for that perfect moment to run across with the hopes that they won't (1) get hit by a car/bus/lorry/motorbike (2) get called "bodoh" while crossing and (3) get their belongings stolen by some fucker on a bike.
2. Watch for blinking indicators. Your best bet to attempt crossing the road - and oh, by the way, there's no traffic light where I'm crossing but three lanes (on each side, which makes six altogether!) to worry about - is when you see a car signalling to drive into the lot where you car is parked. Opportunity! Take it and run!
3. Follow the leader. In the 25 people (including you) waiting by the road side, there will always be ONE person who will stand at the very end and he (or sometimes she - usually an older chinese lady) will take a step forward. That's our signal to be prepared to follow him. Besides, if anything happens, he gets hit first. Lessens the impact.
4. Watch for bikes. They really come out of nowhere! And they tend to purposely go a little faster when approaching you.
So till I get my pay (please let it be next week), I will be attempting suicide at about 8.50am every morning and 7pm every evening. By the way, did I forget to mention that this is in one of the busiest roads in the city? Pray for me people. Or you can always loan me RM300 ;P
Culture Shock
Monday, 17 November 2008 @ 6.28pm
Our personal identity is framed by the community we live in. Part of the way we see ourselves is in relation to other people, as belonging to this or that group. Your personal identity becomes somewhat threatened when your familiar community is replaced by foreign landscapes, people and lifestyles. People respond with varying degrees of anxiety and confusion. This is what is referred to as Culture Shock.
I read that and it hit me. That's my problem. That's why I've been feeling grumpy and depressed! Ok, let's start over. No, I haven't migrated anywhere. I've just changed jobs.
For two years, I worked as an Editor. While there, I also developed a skill in which my bosses entrusted me to play the role of (what I like to call it) "half AE". It's been a blessing in disguise. I've been able to hone my skills dealing with clients. So much so that I now work as an AE. I never prepared myself for the change. I just thought, different location, different people, different job scope. WRONG!
Travel
While I was at Trix, I had to wake up at 6.45am and leave the house before 7.30am so I could beat traffic and get a sweet parking spot. Usually reaching work before 8.30am, that gave me the luxury to relax and sort out breakfast and work for the day before anyone else had even walked into the office. 9am was coffee and chat with Ina. Work, work, work till 1pm for lunch. (I miss A la carte and mamak and pak cik mahal :( boo hoo!) 2pm was back into office and work, work, work till about 7pm.
Now I'm at Mega Ads, I can wake up at 8am and still be at least 15 to 20 minutes early for work. There's no traffic to beat (save for the traffic lights before the junction) and parking is right around the corner after the lights. I now have to risk my life twice a day, EVERY DAY, to cross the road (which I will be blogging about later). I'll spend about ten minutes at the downstairs shop and buy my burger ayam (RM1.80 ;P). By the time I take the lift up, office is still closed. And of course being the eager newbie, the only thing I have is the access card to get in and get out. Another ten minutes waiting for Venny or Sophia to open the door. Breakfast here is whenever I feel like. And it's usually when Nikki or Amira kacau me. Lunch is not at 1pm on the dot. You hear your tummy rumble, go and eat. Even if I leave the office at 7pm, I'll reach home less than ten minutes later!!! Argghhh!!!!!
I now don't bother switching on the radio or even choosing a CD for the ride because there is no ride! I'm trying to wake up as late as possible and leave the house as late as possible but I still manage to arrive extra early.
Office Politics
At Trix, it took a while for people to warm up to me. Especially designers. It was a process of me having to brave going into the studio and menyibuk-ing to start building a relationship with them. At the end of my two years there, I can safely say that although I only count Ina as a real friend, Rachel as someone whom I'll probably meet once in a while and the rest as colleagues. I had a good relationship with them all and found ways of how to work with each and every one of them over time. Not all designers have the same working methods you know.
Here, people are friendlier and there's no real line between boss and staff. We still give that certain amount of respect to our superiors and our bosses, but I can still talk to them about anything. They know I have Eddie. They know he comes to see me for lunch once or twice a week. They know I'm vain and have already sorted my mirror and perfume on my second day here. They know I like Oreos. And they know I take at least half an hour or an hour each day to read Star and Harian Metro. In that order.
Change
When I read that article about culture shock, it hit me. Although I gave my two month notice at Trix, I never really prepared myself for change. I just thought it'd be the same...but different. Know what I mean ;P It's because of this culture shock that I've been bitchy. Even to Eddie. Poor baby.
I've been so used to listening to radio and choosing a CD every evening. No more. I'm so used to working environment and clients there. I'm meeting my first client tomorrow. I'm so used to waking up early. No more. I'm so used to morning traffic, rush hour traffic, Friday evening traffic... No more.
I've been pulled out of my comfort zone and I now have to create a new one. Yesterday I said I don't want to be an AE. But I've decided not to pull out. I'm giving myself two more years. I ain't a quitter. I'm going to work as hard as I did at Trix. But if I happen to get called up for an interview (with jobs that I'll just apply for fun hehehe), then maybe... who knows? ;P
Our personal identity is framed by the community we live in. Part of the way we see ourselves is in relation to other people, as belonging to this or that group. Your personal identity becomes somewhat threatened when your familiar community is replaced by foreign landscapes, people and lifestyles. People respond with varying degrees of anxiety and confusion. This is what is referred to as Culture Shock.
I read that and it hit me. That's my problem. That's why I've been feeling grumpy and depressed! Ok, let's start over. No, I haven't migrated anywhere. I've just changed jobs.
For two years, I worked as an Editor. While there, I also developed a skill in which my bosses entrusted me to play the role of (what I like to call it) "half AE". It's been a blessing in disguise. I've been able to hone my skills dealing with clients. So much so that I now work as an AE. I never prepared myself for the change. I just thought, different location, different people, different job scope. WRONG!
Travel
While I was at Trix, I had to wake up at 6.45am and leave the house before 7.30am so I could beat traffic and get a sweet parking spot. Usually reaching work before 8.30am, that gave me the luxury to relax and sort out breakfast and work for the day before anyone else had even walked into the office. 9am was coffee and chat with Ina. Work, work, work till 1pm for lunch. (I miss A la carte and mamak and pak cik mahal :( boo hoo!) 2pm was back into office and work, work, work till about 7pm.
Now I'm at Mega Ads, I can wake up at 8am and still be at least 15 to 20 minutes early for work. There's no traffic to beat (save for the traffic lights before the junction) and parking is right around the corner after the lights. I now have to risk my life twice a day, EVERY DAY, to cross the road (which I will be blogging about later). I'll spend about ten minutes at the downstairs shop and buy my burger ayam (RM1.80 ;P). By the time I take the lift up, office is still closed. And of course being the eager newbie, the only thing I have is the access card to get in and get out. Another ten minutes waiting for Venny or Sophia to open the door. Breakfast here is whenever I feel like. And it's usually when Nikki or Amira kacau me. Lunch is not at 1pm on the dot. You hear your tummy rumble, go and eat. Even if I leave the office at 7pm, I'll reach home less than ten minutes later!!! Argghhh!!!!!
I now don't bother switching on the radio or even choosing a CD for the ride because there is no ride! I'm trying to wake up as late as possible and leave the house as late as possible but I still manage to arrive extra early.
Office Politics
At Trix, it took a while for people to warm up to me. Especially designers. It was a process of me having to brave going into the studio and menyibuk-ing to start building a relationship with them. At the end of my two years there, I can safely say that although I only count Ina as a real friend, Rachel as someone whom I'll probably meet once in a while and the rest as colleagues. I had a good relationship with them all and found ways of how to work with each and every one of them over time. Not all designers have the same working methods you know.
Here, people are friendlier and there's no real line between boss and staff. We still give that certain amount of respect to our superiors and our bosses, but I can still talk to them about anything. They know I have Eddie. They know he comes to see me for lunch once or twice a week. They know I'm vain and have already sorted my mirror and perfume on my second day here. They know I like Oreos. And they know I take at least half an hour or an hour each day to read Star and Harian Metro. In that order.
Change
When I read that article about culture shock, it hit me. Although I gave my two month notice at Trix, I never really prepared myself for change. I just thought it'd be the same...but different. Know what I mean ;P It's because of this culture shock that I've been bitchy. Even to Eddie. Poor baby.
I've been so used to listening to radio and choosing a CD every evening. No more. I'm so used to working environment and clients there. I'm meeting my first client tomorrow. I'm so used to waking up early. No more. I'm so used to morning traffic, rush hour traffic, Friday evening traffic... No more.
I've been pulled out of my comfort zone and I now have to create a new one. Yesterday I said I don't want to be an AE. But I've decided not to pull out. I'm giving myself two more years. I ain't a quitter. I'm going to work as hard as I did at Trix. But if I happen to get called up for an interview (with jobs that I'll just apply for fun hehehe), then maybe... who knows? ;P
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Escape
Friday, 14 November 2008 @ 9.50am
Last night I spent an hour in bed thinking of some place to go where I can be alone, where no one will recognise me and where I can't be found. I couldn't think of one.
I can't go to Antarabangsa. I can't go to GE. I can't go to Curve. I can't go to KLCC. I can't go to Bangsar. I can't go to Pavilion. I realised that every single place where I used to go to escape is now a place where people I know come find me, or I go to kacau them.
I need some space. From morning to night, somebody needs something from me. A question answered. Work to be done. A place to live. Help for something. Everybody is pulling me this way and that. I can't breathe anymore.
I can't switch off my phone. I can't run away from home. Cause I don't know where to go where no one will find me.
Last night I spent an hour in bed thinking of some place to go where I can be alone, where no one will recognise me and where I can't be found. I couldn't think of one.
I can't go to Antarabangsa. I can't go to GE. I can't go to Curve. I can't go to KLCC. I can't go to Bangsar. I can't go to Pavilion. I realised that every single place where I used to go to escape is now a place where people I know come find me, or I go to kacau them.
I need some space. From morning to night, somebody needs something from me. A question answered. Work to be done. A place to live. Help for something. Everybody is pulling me this way and that. I can't breathe anymore.
I can't switch off my phone. I can't run away from home. Cause I don't know where to go where no one will find me.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
He was called Sulaiman
Thursday, 13 November 2008 @ 3.20pm
I first met Dad when I was 11 years old. He was an unsmiling, chain-smoking man who used to send and fetch Steph whenever she wanted to see me or spend the night at my house. The first few times I met him, I was terrified of him. But over time, I discovered he was a cheerful happy guy who always tried to make you laugh. He was extremely jovial.
I remember when Steph and I were about 13 years old, we were at her house. It was near Christmas time (I remember this because we were deciding what we could 'recycle' to give as gifts to Dad and Mum). Dad had left his cigarettes on the coffee table in the living room. We were trying to steal a few sticks so we could run to the back of the apartments to smoke it. Success! Hhehehe... Dad only found out when we told him what happened a few months ago. We also tried to impress him by cooking him and Mum spaghetti (Dad wasn't always around. He always had work or somewhere else to go). Remembering his "mmmm" we were happy, but now... he probably just said it to make us happy :)
When Mum and Dad split, Steph took it hard. She was Daddy's little girl. We were about 14 or 15 at the time. Being the best friend, I naturally took Steph's side. I started to get angry with Dad too. It was him who was making Mum cry. And him who was making her go out and drink more. Over the years, things got better. But I didn't see him again till I was about 18 or 19. Things were still tough because the air was still tense when Mum was there. Steph was trying to be diplomatic and please both sides. I was the shoulder she'd cry on when we went home later.
Since moving back to KL a few years ago, Steph started to spend more time with him. She started bringing me along too about two years ago. It was during CNY because he gave me ang pow. He told me to lose weight :) Then he said he was happy that I was Editor and laughed. He was back :)
Since then, Steph and I started to spend more time with him. For lunches and dinners, and just visitin ghim at his pub. He always told me jokes. And he always made me sit next to him. If there wasn't space, he told me to sit on his lap. Then told me to get off cause I was too heavy. A lot of times, he would just burst into song. And he made sure I never looked away. If I did, he'd just sing louder.
Steph and I were at his place one day and then he said, "Did you know I'm a Muslim? Yes. I converted five years ago." I knew. Steph told me she'd found some pictures of him getting married in some place in Arab or somewhere. That woman was long gone then. But he told me the whole history of Islam and the good and the bad.
Two nights ago, Dad passed away. The only chance I got to say bye one last time was when I saw his body in the 'rumah mayat'. He was wrapped except for his face. It looked like he had a smile on his face. I didn't really wanna see. I was waiting outside when Steph and Mum went inside. Then Steph sent me a text saying, "wanna see Dad one last time?" Under the sheet, he was still wearing the hospital gown. They wanted us to see him before they washed and wrapped him. We went outside again and got to reminiscing...
I got to eat his fish curry. Steph and I annoyed him so much in the kitchen of his restaurant while he was making us fresh durian pancakes that he chased us out (we were constantly asking him all the names of the spices we saw, but before he could answer we were already asking about the next one). We got to celebrate his last birthday with him this year. He introduced me to everyone as his daughter. When Steph gave a grumpy face, he'd say, "oh, this is my adopted daughter." About Steph! :)
There was once I went along with Steph to pick him up. He didn't know I was coming. He saw Steph and just walked to the passenger side. When he saw me, his face lit up and he started clapping like a little kid :) Steph still tells everyone and (jokingly I hope) hits me about it.
It never really hit me that he was gone until they were loading him on the trolley to be placed into the van. On the way to the kubur, Steph and I broke down a few times. Mum was taking photos (we were following directly behind the van in a row of about 12 cars). It only felt final when the Earth's soil was covering him. There were endless tears. Dad's brother was inconsolable. And Dad's granddaughter almost fainted when we were saying prayers.
He was called Sulaiman. And I will forever regret cancelling that fishing trip with him and Steph. We were supposed to go to Penang and eat to our heart's content. I guess Steph and I will be eating on his part now.
Bye Dad.
I first met Dad when I was 11 years old. He was an unsmiling, chain-smoking man who used to send and fetch Steph whenever she wanted to see me or spend the night at my house. The first few times I met him, I was terrified of him. But over time, I discovered he was a cheerful happy guy who always tried to make you laugh. He was extremely jovial.
I remember when Steph and I were about 13 years old, we were at her house. It was near Christmas time (I remember this because we were deciding what we could 'recycle' to give as gifts to Dad and Mum). Dad had left his cigarettes on the coffee table in the living room. We were trying to steal a few sticks so we could run to the back of the apartments to smoke it. Success! Hhehehe... Dad only found out when we told him what happened a few months ago. We also tried to impress him by cooking him and Mum spaghetti (Dad wasn't always around. He always had work or somewhere else to go). Remembering his "mmmm" we were happy, but now... he probably just said it to make us happy :)
When Mum and Dad split, Steph took it hard. She was Daddy's little girl. We were about 14 or 15 at the time. Being the best friend, I naturally took Steph's side. I started to get angry with Dad too. It was him who was making Mum cry. And him who was making her go out and drink more. Over the years, things got better. But I didn't see him again till I was about 18 or 19. Things were still tough because the air was still tense when Mum was there. Steph was trying to be diplomatic and please both sides. I was the shoulder she'd cry on when we went home later.
Since moving back to KL a few years ago, Steph started to spend more time with him. She started bringing me along too about two years ago. It was during CNY because he gave me ang pow. He told me to lose weight :) Then he said he was happy that I was Editor and laughed. He was back :)
Since then, Steph and I started to spend more time with him. For lunches and dinners, and just visitin ghim at his pub. He always told me jokes. And he always made me sit next to him. If there wasn't space, he told me to sit on his lap. Then told me to get off cause I was too heavy. A lot of times, he would just burst into song. And he made sure I never looked away. If I did, he'd just sing louder.
Steph and I were at his place one day and then he said, "Did you know I'm a Muslim? Yes. I converted five years ago." I knew. Steph told me she'd found some pictures of him getting married in some place in Arab or somewhere. That woman was long gone then. But he told me the whole history of Islam and the good and the bad.
Two nights ago, Dad passed away. The only chance I got to say bye one last time was when I saw his body in the 'rumah mayat'. He was wrapped except for his face. It looked like he had a smile on his face. I didn't really wanna see. I was waiting outside when Steph and Mum went inside. Then Steph sent me a text saying, "wanna see Dad one last time?" Under the sheet, he was still wearing the hospital gown. They wanted us to see him before they washed and wrapped him. We went outside again and got to reminiscing...
I got to eat his fish curry. Steph and I annoyed him so much in the kitchen of his restaurant while he was making us fresh durian pancakes that he chased us out (we were constantly asking him all the names of the spices we saw, but before he could answer we were already asking about the next one). We got to celebrate his last birthday with him this year. He introduced me to everyone as his daughter. When Steph gave a grumpy face, he'd say, "oh, this is my adopted daughter." About Steph! :)
There was once I went along with Steph to pick him up. He didn't know I was coming. He saw Steph and just walked to the passenger side. When he saw me, his face lit up and he started clapping like a little kid :) Steph still tells everyone and (jokingly I hope) hits me about it.
It never really hit me that he was gone until they were loading him on the trolley to be placed into the van. On the way to the kubur, Steph and I broke down a few times. Mum was taking photos (we were following directly behind the van in a row of about 12 cars). It only felt final when the Earth's soil was covering him. There were endless tears. Dad's brother was inconsolable. And Dad's granddaughter almost fainted when we were saying prayers.
He was called Sulaiman. And I will forever regret cancelling that fishing trip with him and Steph. We were supposed to go to Penang and eat to our heart's content. I guess Steph and I will be eating on his part now.
Bye Dad.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Grow up
Tuesday, 11 November 2008 @ 11.40am
People come in all shapes and sizes. They also come with all sorts of attitudes. There are those you meet and instantly click with. There are also those that you just have nothing to say, no matter how many often you see each other. Then there are the rest who really make you wonder.
As a child, you're protected and sheltered from the big bad world. Then your parents will slowly let you learn and feel the pain as you're reaching adulthood in hopes that you would be able to cope with the reality of life. The result (usually) is a capable young person learning to find his or her place in the world. However, when you're 23 and your father still needs to accompany you to the ATM to withdraw as little as RM50 in broad daylight...something is seriously wrong.
Being a 20-something working woman in today's world is a far cry from what 20-something working women were like 20 something years ago. The general perception of a young woman today who earns her own money is usually that she's independent, sociable and determined. However...
Imagine this. I know a 23-year old woman (or should I call her girl?) who sleeps at 9pm and wakes up at 5am to play games online! No, there's nothing wrong in all that. But what if that's all she wants to do? A little bit of hard work and you get a tight face. You tell her how to greet clients and hold a business card (which should be basic) and she cries. You express your frustration on facebook and she deletes you from her friends list.
How do you deal with a person who complains when she has to stay back at work? (Bitch, you're an Editor. Live with it.) How do you deal with a person who cries when you're teaching her something right? For example, "it's rude to yawn in front of people", "make sure you're not distracted when with a client", "don't look bored", sit up straight", "put the book/phone away" and "answer the office phone". How do you deal with a person who goes to a person's Raya open house, brings a book and reads it! How do you deal with a person who always has something to answer back? (When I told her to stop yawning in front of people because it's RUDE, her reply was, "oh, that's one of my little quirks.) @*&&^$(*#(($!!!
I could use all the swear words I know under the sun. But the good thing is, she's not my problem anymore. However, I'm concerned. She was my replacement. I did a damn good job when I was an Editor there. I had a good reputation with clients and just because I left doesn't mean that I want the company to go down. She's a whingy little brat and I don't want her to be my legacy. Grow up, child.
People come in all shapes and sizes. They also come with all sorts of attitudes. There are those you meet and instantly click with. There are also those that you just have nothing to say, no matter how many often you see each other. Then there are the rest who really make you wonder.
As a child, you're protected and sheltered from the big bad world. Then your parents will slowly let you learn and feel the pain as you're reaching adulthood in hopes that you would be able to cope with the reality of life. The result (usually) is a capable young person learning to find his or her place in the world. However, when you're 23 and your father still needs to accompany you to the ATM to withdraw as little as RM50 in broad daylight...something is seriously wrong.
Being a 20-something working woman in today's world is a far cry from what 20-something working women were like 20 something years ago. The general perception of a young woman today who earns her own money is usually that she's independent, sociable and determined. However...
Imagine this. I know a 23-year old woman (or should I call her girl?) who sleeps at 9pm and wakes up at 5am to play games online! No, there's nothing wrong in all that. But what if that's all she wants to do? A little bit of hard work and you get a tight face. You tell her how to greet clients and hold a business card (which should be basic) and she cries. You express your frustration on facebook and she deletes you from her friends list.
How do you deal with a person who complains when she has to stay back at work? (Bitch, you're an Editor. Live with it.) How do you deal with a person who cries when you're teaching her something right? For example, "it's rude to yawn in front of people", "make sure you're not distracted when with a client", "don't look bored", sit up straight", "put the book/phone away" and "answer the office phone". How do you deal with a person who goes to a person's Raya open house, brings a book and reads it! How do you deal with a person who always has something to answer back? (When I told her to stop yawning in front of people because it's RUDE, her reply was, "oh, that's one of my little quirks.) @*&&^$(*#(($!!!
I could use all the swear words I know under the sun. But the good thing is, she's not my problem anymore. However, I'm concerned. She was my replacement. I did a damn good job when I was an Editor there. I had a good reputation with clients and just because I left doesn't mean that I want the company to go down. She's a whingy little brat and I don't want her to be my legacy. Grow up, child.
Overworked and underpaid
Monday, 10 November 2008 @ 11.15pm
I'm an AE for Mega Advertising. I'm the Events Manager and Board of Director for Koperasi Sinar Bestari (Kostari). And I'm a teacher at Get Crafty. I'm practically working ALL the time. I don't get enough sleep. I don't have enough time to socialise. And I never have enough money. But I'm loving EVERY minute of it. I feel like I'm living my life to the fullest and doing all that I can at this young age.
I don't regret spending more than I make and I don't regret being overworked and underpaid. I'm doing this for the experience. I'm doing this so I can do all that I can in this very short life that we have.
I may only be 24 but that went by in a flash. In ten years time, if I hadn't done all that I could now, would I regret it? I think so. Some time down the road I'm going to wonder how I managed to work all day, go out at night, barely sleep at night before starting it all again the next day. I haven't had an off day since...hmm...what does an off day feel like? The last I remembered even feeling relaxed was a year ago when I spent at least once a week at Alexis by myself for hours.
But I'm not complaining. I'm just wondering when things will fall into place. I'm ready for that next level. I'm just not sure whether it's ready for me ;)
I'm an AE for Mega Advertising. I'm the Events Manager and Board of Director for Koperasi Sinar Bestari (Kostari). And I'm a teacher at Get Crafty. I'm practically working ALL the time. I don't get enough sleep. I don't have enough time to socialise. And I never have enough money. But I'm loving EVERY minute of it. I feel like I'm living my life to the fullest and doing all that I can at this young age.
I don't regret spending more than I make and I don't regret being overworked and underpaid. I'm doing this for the experience. I'm doing this so I can do all that I can in this very short life that we have.
I may only be 24 but that went by in a flash. In ten years time, if I hadn't done all that I could now, would I regret it? I think so. Some time down the road I'm going to wonder how I managed to work all day, go out at night, barely sleep at night before starting it all again the next day. I haven't had an off day since...hmm...what does an off day feel like? The last I remembered even feeling relaxed was a year ago when I spent at least once a week at Alexis by myself for hours.
But I'm not complaining. I'm just wondering when things will fall into place. I'm ready for that next level. I'm just not sure whether it's ready for me ;)
Thursday, November 6, 2008
AE
Friday, 7 November 2008 @ 1.17pm
I still find myself thinking like an Editor. I'm still working and functioning as one. Yes, I've been part AE but my core was an Editor. I dealt with words. I dealt with designers. I was in control.
This is a whole new ballgame for me. I'm dealing SOLELY with clients. Yes, I've had experience with clients, but now I'm ONLY dealing with clients. I don't need to worry about the whole process because the next time I see the product will be at the mock up stage.
What happened to me organising and writing? And doing the pagination? And briefing designers? And brainstorming? Is it really all gone? I've been sitting here for the last two and a half days and I'm still not used to it. I feel like the other half of me has been torn away.
It takes time. Yes I know. I'm not worried or panicking about being an AE. I just need to learn how to deal with invoices, and quotations and handling media. I've been asked to help strategise on a re-branding for our client so we can present our proposal at the end of the month. The only way I know how is to research, use contacts and write a report. Is that what an AE does? I dunno. That's what an Editor does.
I'm confused. But let me get the hang of it. I'll wow them. And if I ever go back to working as a writer/editor, then there'll probably be a new post saying, "I'm an AE. How do I work and function as a writer/editor?"
I still find myself thinking like an Editor. I'm still working and functioning as one. Yes, I've been part AE but my core was an Editor. I dealt with words. I dealt with designers. I was in control.
This is a whole new ballgame for me. I'm dealing SOLELY with clients. Yes, I've had experience with clients, but now I'm ONLY dealing with clients. I don't need to worry about the whole process because the next time I see the product will be at the mock up stage.
What happened to me organising and writing? And doing the pagination? And briefing designers? And brainstorming? Is it really all gone? I've been sitting here for the last two and a half days and I'm still not used to it. I feel like the other half of me has been torn away.
It takes time. Yes I know. I'm not worried or panicking about being an AE. I just need to learn how to deal with invoices, and quotations and handling media. I've been asked to help strategise on a re-branding for our client so we can present our proposal at the end of the month. The only way I know how is to research, use contacts and write a report. Is that what an AE does? I dunno. That's what an Editor does.
I'm confused. But let me get the hang of it. I'll wow them. And if I ever go back to working as a writer/editor, then there'll probably be a new post saying, "I'm an AE. How do I work and function as a writer/editor?"
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Vulnerable
Sunday, 2 November 2008 @ 11.59pm
My heart is crying, and I can't tell any of you why. I sit alone, tears are spilling on my lap. It's uncontrollable and it's been pent up for too damn long. I can barely see.
I'm not allowed to say why because I don't know who's reading this now. I'm not allowed to talk to any of you because I've been hiding for too damn long already. It's too late to start now.
I can't talk to my family about my friends. I can't talk to my friends about my family. I can't talk to you about either. I have no one to turn to and I really don't know what else to do. Can I continue this charade? This facade that shows that I'm well and capable and fine?
It's all a lie. It's all lies. I'm falling apart and I can't tell or show any of you. I wanna go away. But I don't know where. I wanna just go on with my life. But I can't seem to do that. Something's always wrong. Something's always going on. I can't sit and concentrate. Not anymore.
I cry in the shower now. I cry while I drive. I cry myself to sleep. But none of you know. I confess I'm not perfect and I'm trying my best to keep it all together. I will probably regret writing this because I don't want any of you to know. But I have nowhere else to turn. What should I do now?
I don't need fake smiles. I don't need half-assed sympathy one liners. If you can't help me, don't give me false hope. If you couldn't care less, just say so. I made a mistake breaking that wall around my heart. Now I think I'm going to have to build it up again.
My heart is crying, and I can't tell any of you why. I sit alone, tears are spilling on my lap. It's uncontrollable and it's been pent up for too damn long. I can barely see.
I'm not allowed to say why because I don't know who's reading this now. I'm not allowed to talk to any of you because I've been hiding for too damn long already. It's too late to start now.
I can't talk to my family about my friends. I can't talk to my friends about my family. I can't talk to you about either. I have no one to turn to and I really don't know what else to do. Can I continue this charade? This facade that shows that I'm well and capable and fine?
It's all a lie. It's all lies. I'm falling apart and I can't tell or show any of you. I wanna go away. But I don't know where. I wanna just go on with my life. But I can't seem to do that. Something's always wrong. Something's always going on. I can't sit and concentrate. Not anymore.
I cry in the shower now. I cry while I drive. I cry myself to sleep. But none of you know. I confess I'm not perfect and I'm trying my best to keep it all together. I will probably regret writing this because I don't want any of you to know. But I have nowhere else to turn. What should I do now?
I don't need fake smiles. I don't need half-assed sympathy one liners. If you can't help me, don't give me false hope. If you couldn't care less, just say so. I made a mistake breaking that wall around my heart. Now I think I'm going to have to build it up again.
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