Tuesday, July 21, 2009


Tuesday, 21 July 2009@4.51pm

It’s hard to imagine that I ever lived alone – seeing that I’m now almost always surrounded by people. But once upon a time, I did, and I had a routine which I was happy to live by, and am truly missing now.


This was the day that the new magazines would come out – be it weekly or monthly. Every Monday morning, even if my first class was at 11am, I’d get up at 8am, get dressed and walk to the news agency. Every single Monday morning, I’d buy the newspaper and NW magazine. If it were the beginning of the month, I’d also buy CLEO. On my walk back to my apartment, I’d stop by at Subway and buy breakfast. I’d spend about a good hour or two reading the paper and magazine while eating my sandwich (the TV was always switched on to some day time American comedy for background noise).

After class, I’d usually go to the library for a bit, come back home, prepare dinner, and watch TV while eating dinner. I remember my very first semester in my very first year in Melbourne, my first class on Monday was from 5pm till 8pm. That messed up my timing for the week and pissed me off most of the time. I felt like I didn’t start my week properly. From then on, I made my first class on a Monday would be in the morning. Or at the very latest, early afternoon :)


My whole six years there, I never really liked Tuesdays. There was never anything to do on that day. There was nowhere to go and the shows on TV were generally crap. Tuesdays also tended to be my off day from university. On Tuesdays, I generally woke up late, rented videos, did grocery shopping and had dinner with friends. It’s also the day I would spend time reading at night, or going to bed early.


On Wednesdays, I would usually have a full day of classes. On one semester, I had my first lecture at 11am, tutorial at 2pm, another lecture at 3.30pm, and lecture at 5.30pm. I usually go out for a drink after my tutorial with classmates. But then would just crash in front of the TV and not shower till late at night – even during winter.


Thursdays were always my favourite days. I don’t really remember why. But I liked Thursdays. Class would usually end at 3 or 4pm. I’d spend an hour or two in the computer lab after that, then head to Safeway or Coles to get groceries, cook, shower, eat and watch TV. On Thursday nights, there were usually a couple of shows back to back that I liked to watch. Oh, and probably Sex and the City too. Uncensored. I miss Australian TV.


Fridays just meant movie night at home. Occasionally I’d go out karaoke at Box Hill or for a drink and dinner not far from home. It was just generally a day where I didn’t have to worry waking up late the next day.


This used to be my lazy day. I’d wake up late and go out to meet friends. Or I’d go explore Melbourne. I’d wander the city, or the suburbs, or wherever I felt like going. I never did anything special on Saturday nights. Usually because I didn’t have the money to. Once in a while I’d go for dinner and a movie. But that’s it. I actually spent most Saturdays studying or working on assignments or reading. Yes, I was boring.


I loved Sundays. I think out of my experience in Melbourne, Sundays are what I miss the most. I always woke up early on Sundays. I would go out, buy all the Sunday papers, come back, make breakfast, then eat and read the papers for a good few hours. I would do laundry that day, and clean the apartment. I would vacuum and scrubbed the shower and toilet. I folded laundry and did the ironing. I would make myself a good, full dinner that day. Sometimes, I would buy fresh flowers to put on the coffee table. If I didn’t have much cleaning to do, or if I were too lazy to cook breakfast, I’d buy the newspapers and just spend hours at the cafĂ© – especially during spring and summer days (during winter I was almost always at home with the heater on).

Thursday, July 16, 2009

Cash Converters

Friday, 17 July 2009 @ 12.37pm

We'd just drove into the driveway when Eddie almost immediately scanned the garden looking for his bike.

"Motor I kat mana yang?"

To tease him, with a straight face I replied, "Tadi I suruh dia orang jual when we were at work."

Eddie, not missing a beat, played along. "Jual kat mana?"

"Cash Converters," I giggled.

Eddie, with a mock sad face said, "Sampai hati you yang, jual motor I kat Cash Converters."

Then he turned and saw that Sally (the bike) was parked exactly where he'd left it. Eddie tomel... ;p

Saturday, July 4, 2009


Sunday, 5 July 2009 @ 9.32am

I sometimes wonder if I’ve done something so extremely wrong and unforgivable in my lifetime. I sometimes feel like the lonely outcast who on the outside, chooses to be strong, but on the inside, is just torn to pieces. I sometimes feel as though I deserve it, and live with it. But then there are things that are so unjustified and so unfair that I start to wonder who’s really in the wrong.

It usually hits when there are things or events that make it too obvious for me not to compare. Or when I’m in the room flipping through a magazine. Or when I go pick up something that I once so excitedly ordered. Or when I’ve decided on a colour. Or when I’m with Eddie and we’ve bought one more thing for that day.

It’s a mix of sadness and anger. Of loneliness and happiness. Sad because I don’t understand why. Angry because I don’t think it’s fair. Lonely…because quite honestly, it can be pretty fucking lonely to have to do it yourself. And happy…because I know that there is support somewhere else.

I know the history and I know the pattern. A storm is coming up soon. I don’t even want to bring up the subject anymore because the response is usually a long face and a “nantilah…” reply. Why do I bother to even try to ask for help? It puts too much hope when you initially think that there is help. And then when I do go ahead with it, that’s when the shit hits the fan.

I feel so guilty. And I have no reason to feel this way. I’m doing it the right way. I’m doing it the traditionally correct way. Cut me some fucking slack. I work seven fucking days in a fucking week. To top that off, I’m doing all the fucking planning by my fucking self. Cut me some fucking slack. Boleh tak? What else the fuck more do you want from me? To be pretentious and superficial? To be alone and ‘fulfilled’?

The solution is simple. Wayang. Usually when you paste a fake smile on your face and pretend everything is a-okay and everyone is ‘happy’, then there’s no fucking problem anymore. Well here I fucking go again. I made a mistake a few months ago when I thought things were different. I made a fucking mistake when I took down that wall around my heart. I now remember why I built it in the first place.

Do you know what it feels like to go to the tailor and have no one beside you to share the joy you should be feeling? Do you know what it feels like to go shopping for lace and ribbon and have no one back up your thoughts or share ideas with you? Do you know what it feels like to work seven fucking days a week knowing that in the end you will probably not be able to even afford it? Do you know what it feels like to think that on the actual day, I’ll be sitting alone at the corner, and instead of being celebrated, witness small groups around me bitching about the other family, or the colour I’ve chosen, or the person I’ve chosen? Do you know what it feels like to not have a single fucking day off and to have to do everything yourself? Do you know what it fucking feels like when you’ve just finished another long day at work and on the drive home you’re busy planning, planning, planning…all by yourself? Do you know the empty hole that’s been created ever since this all started?

My response is also simple. Kalau terasa when you read this, then it was most likely about you. And again I say, this is MY blog. If anything I write hurts your feelings, then stop reading it.