hear me rant

Push

2010-05-29T03:28:00.000-07:00

I think I've tried my best. I've done all and more for you. I'm here for you whenever you need me, but you seem to even want me around you. Do you feel like I'm forcing you to stay? Do you just want to go away? Whatever it is, can you not just push me away? I thought you had me and I had you. But now I really don't know what to say.

Strong

2010-05-19T03:59:00.000-07:00

Wednesday, 19 May 2010 @ 7.15pm

How am I supposed to be strong? Am I meant to be strong for everyone? Who's going to be strong for me? How am I supposed to share if I'm expected to carry the weight of the world on my shoulders. I was strong when I knew you were to back me up. I felt invincible because I knew all I had to do is turn around and you'd be there. Now I don't know who's there anymore...

Stop crying, they say. You're a strong girl. You'll get through this. You can do it. You're built to be strong. Strong, strong, strong, strong, strong. Fuck you. How the fuck am I supposed to always be strong? Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. And fuck you too.

Do you know what it's like to always be strong? To always have to have a facade on? To be everyone's mama, everyone's sister, everyone's everything? And the one time I need you, you tell me to just be strong because I'm built that way?

Do you know that I have to build a wall around my heart to keep this facade up? Do you know that I have to keep up this fake smile and fake warm exterior when all I want to do is just curl up and cry? What's the point of talking to anyone if all they ask, no, tell me, to do is be strong?

What if, just this one time, I want to be weak? I want to be helpless? I want you to be strong for me?

I guess that's not happening.

So that's that. Strong it shall be.

Toxic

2010-05-18T18:01:00.001-07:00

Wednesday, 19 May 2010 @ 9.19am

There are certain things in life you cannot control. Even more so, certain people. To not have anybody supporting me is a norm. Which is why I've built a strong, confident outlook. And which is also why I choose to work as hard as I do. There are so many people who do not understand me (or who choose not to) and there are plenty of others who are in the same shoes as myself. But there are also that certain few who think they know it all. You know the kind. They read a chapter (and maybe not even the full one) on a subject they don't even know and think that they know more than someone who's lived forty over years making a career out of that subject.

I usually don't let cocky, arrogant bastards bother me and my life. Hey, I sometimes get a laugh or two out of their actions. But it's when they push that limit and go the extra mile...that's when it pisses me off. But someone once told me that these people who are out to hurt people are usually hurt souls themselves.

No, I'm not going to go on saying that I feel sorry for such bastards. Or that I understand. I'll just say that there are plenty of things I cannot control, and plenty of things I must learn to handle.

It's easy how these very same people dare to preach what they think is right when they forget that they themselves were in the same position that they're speaking so highly of. It's these contradicting dickheads that at the end of the day (even after a long one that involves many tears shed), that I end up having the most entertainment out of. It's not everyday that you run into people who think so highly of themselves even though you know they don't even dare have dinner alone downstairs :) See? Entertainment already.

But I'm under pressure now. A lot of fucking pressure. I highly DO NOT recommend people who are setting up a kindergarten to also plan for their own wedding. I also highly DO NOT recommend people to open their newly set-up kindy a few days apart from their wedding. It's a lot of fucking pressure. Trust me on this.

I've decided to take the high road and do what I have to do. People were always warning me that my engagement period is always the toughest. And that there are so many tests that I will have to face and overcome. This is definitely one of many tests I foresee. But it's happened, I'm over it, and it's time to move on.

By the way, don't expect me to play happy families for the sake of having a 'happy' facade. I really don't give a flying fuck if it may seem childish or immature or if I'm not smiling for the camera, but I've got my own life to lead and my own problems to face. I don't need people who I hardly speak to to try and dictate my life. Here's a suggestion: try to get to know the situation a little better, look at yourself in the mirror before you try and preach about what you think is right and stay out of my life. Have I ever bothered yours?

And once again, after many, many times of saying this: this is my blog. No one put a gun to your head to read it. So if you feel offended, then yes, it was most likely about you. And if it bothers you so much, here's another suggestion: stop reading it.

Peace.

Friends

2010-04-28T20:49:00.000-07:00

Thursday, 29 April 2010 @ 12.12pm

I have never experienced a friend dying. I'm one of those people who have witnessed so many deaths but have never truly felt the loss of a loved one. The closest incident that I've experienced was when Steph's father passed away. But even that felt as though I was just an outsider looking in. I have never felt the pain and loss of a person's departure.

This morning, a colleague came into work late because her friend died. When she came in, she told me that she was shocked and had had no idea her friend had a brain tumour. And that her friend had said her 'goodbyes' at their last meet just last week. That's what she kept repeating.

"We didn't know. We just saw her last week."

Upon relaying this story to another colleague, her reaction was sadness mixed with anger. She told me stories of her own experiences of her own friends who failed to inform anyone of their sickness and being invited to their funerals by their husbands and family. She was sad because of the death but angry because her friend had failed to tell anyone of her illness. But she told me another story of another friend who knew he was dying, who had shared the illness with his friends, and who celebrated what was left of his life.

Is it fair for us to be upset with the people who left us behind so suddenly? Should we not just embrace the sadness instead? I don't think so. Friends are the family we create because it's with them that we can express ourselves without being judged by family members who have a certain idea of what and how they want you to be (unless you're lucky enough to have family who aren't judgemental). Friends are the ones who we can turn to if we're in trouble. Friends are there not just for entertainment, but a true friend is also there for the bad times too.

I understand how a person would want to hide their illness so it won't bother others, or so their friends won't treat them differently. But give your friend the benefit of the doubt. Don't keep something so huge that's happening in your life, because if you were to ever leave them behind, it's your loss that would shock and make them feel betrayed.

Life is short. Much too short. And I know that this has been said one too many times, but make the most of it. Appreciate what you have, because you never know what's going to happen next. But for those of you who do know, or who are hiding an illness, don't. You'll be surprised how supportive a friend can be and how much they can change your life. No matter how short or how long left you have.

"To the world you may be just one person, but to one person you may be the world." - Brandi Snyder

'Boifren'

2010-04-27T03:40:00.000-07:00

Tuesday, 27 April 2010 @ 6.56pm

My gut instinct is telling me something fishy is going on here. It did from the first time I saw her and Z become friends on Facebook. I know their history and I know it's all innocent. But there were some comments made that made me start suspecting something. My feelings were not confirmed till I one fine day when I was in Z's account happily harvesting my crops in his farm. An instant message appears that reads something like this:

S: hi boifren. hehehhe

Me: (stunned and shaking with anger) hi

S: is the wife there? hahahaha

Me: no, this is the wife

S: oh, i'm sorry. are u angry? sorry.

Me: (typing furiously but keeping the 'tone' as calm as I could) why are you calling him 'boifren'?

S: oh its nothing. we were both schoolmates in primary, i was just playing. i'm sorry. it's nothing. really.

Me: S, you're a woman, so you should understand how I feel. If it were you who saw something like that, you would feel as angry as I do now.

S: there's really nothing. i'm really sorry. we're friends from a long time ago, blah blah blah

The next two minutes she spent apologising and I calmed down. And that's when I thought, "keep your friends close, but your enemies closer." I turned the conversation around, played it light till she even suggested we meet one day.

I trust Z. With all my heart. But at the end of the day, he's a man. A charming, flirtatious man. A woman could easily fall for his light and easy charm. Although it took him a while to win me over. And boy, did I enjoy playing with him back then. And no, he's not 100% innocent in all this. But that's another day's blog.

I soon discovered S is a divorcee with three children. Fine by me. In fact, if I got to know her a little better, I might even like her and want to do whatever I can to help her. But where the hell does she come off calling MY man 'boifren' (and I keep spelling it that way because it was that one misspelled word that shook my anger till my blood was boiling and my hands were shaking). I believe myself to be a feminist. I do not want to go against a fellow woman, but don't give me the ammo to shoot at you. And don't make yourself a simple target.

Nanti aku panggil ka perempuan jalang engkau mesti tak suka kan?

No matter how close you are to a guy friend, or how long you've known each other, pay a little respect to him and his fiancee, even if you don't know her.

Nanti aku marah kau cakap bukan2 kau berani nak cakap apa2 balik ke?

I don't believe in going around with other male friends and 'jokingly' call them pet names. Single or attached. Unless they're gay. Even then, I'd call him sister.

Cerminkan diri kau balik boleh tak perempuan? Dahlah janda, anak tiga, kau pergi ayat tunang aku bukan2. Jangan bagi aku panas.

See? And there's my ammo. And it's only because you make it so easy for me to shoot you. Watch yourself. If you had a man, I'd gladly do what you did. Then maybe you'd understand how I feel.

Children

2010-04-11T06:03:00.000-07:00

Sunday, 11 April 2010 @ 9.27pm

I feel sorry for children who are forced to grow up faster than they should. Sorry that they get mocked for liking things that may be deemed 'childish'. Sorry that they get laughed at when they're doing something they truly enjoy. Sorry that they're being called stupid and idiot and other names that they shouldn't even know yet, let alone be called.

I remember when I was a hormonal 17-year-old. I couldn't control my emotions and I couldn't help some of the things I did or said. There was one particular thing about that age that I remember though. It was during the time of month where I really should have been locked up in a room for at least a week. I asked someone why kids are so stupid, why they don't know anything and why they're always asking questions. This person laughed and agreed. Did I mention that this person is older and should have known better? This person should have set an example or taught me children don't know anything and are always asking questions. Did I also mention that I have since lost all respect as I grew and realised and learned?

Children are not stupid. They don't know anything because they're learning. And as adults, we should be the ones who guide, teach, nurture and love them. It's our responsibility to protect them and to treat them as children. We should not be exposing them to people or things who are toxic to their development. Adults who claim to be grown up and mature are actually the ones robbing them of their childhood.

It's a pity when you see adults who should be the responsible ones are actually the ones who are acting more like a child then the child itself. It's worse when you see the children try and be as grown up as they can, but when you actually look at them, you see that they don't really understand what is going on. They're just playing along to please the adults. If they don't, they get teased mercilessly and there's no one there to defend them.

What I've learnt from this is to stay away. And to one day keep my own children from people who will be toxic to their health. I want my children to have a childhood. I want them to play, learn and live like a child. Like I did. I don't want them to feel like they have to act like something they're not. Or that they have to behave a certain way just to be accepted. Especially with their own families.

Treat children like children. Don't laugh at them when they ask something. Especially not when they make a mistake. Because if you do, the next time something happens to them, you'll be the last person they turn to.

Tiring

2010-04-09T03:30:00.000-07:00

Friday, 9 April 2010 @ 6.30pm

I'm not a mind reader and I don't have supernatural powers. Yes, I may always look and act strong but with you...all it takes is one word for me to just feel weak.

I don't know what mood you're in, especially when I'm calling you. Do you think I have supernatural powers to be able to know how you're feeling?

Why is it I always have to be considerate of YOUR feelings? I feel like I'm walking on eggshells. I wrong step and BAM! Out comes the asshole. Yes, asshole. In denial. An egotistic asshole.

You mock my work and disregard it as though it's nothing. I work my ass off and with one wave of a hand or gesture...that's all it takes to make me feel as big as an ant.

So thank you for making me feel like a worthless piece of nothing who can never do anything to please you. And thank you for never being grateful for anything that I've done for you.

Why do I (and why should I) bother to continue doing so much for you? Why do I continue to slave away just to make sure that I take care of your feelings? You never do the same for me.

Why should I even bother telling you how I feel? All I get in return is a blank face or stare. Why do I keep trying to do things to impress you?

Because I love you and because I care. It's not always good. But it's so easy to keep it from being bad. But why should I bother even opening my mouth? One word of truth and there it goes again.

It gets tiring to have to be strong all the time. To have to play a part at every single minute of my life. I can't even get a moment's peace during my lunch hour.

It gets tiring to come home and still have to continue a fake exterior when all you want to do is just watch TV in a quiet environment or read a book without being questioned what I'm doing.

And believe you me, it's getting extremely tiring always having to please you all the time. I thought it was about give and take. And I know you're going to deny all this and say you do give and take and you are fair and you do listen.

But you're too caught up in your own world. Don't even bother reading this. Cause you're just going to blame me and my emotions anyway.

Quote of Life

2010-03-02T18:33:00.000-08:00

Wednesday, 3 March 2010 @ 11.08am

Someone once told me that you never really understand what another person's life or problems are like unless you've lived it. But it will never be the same experience. People naturally tend to compare and think that they have it worse off, while some just don't care. Again, others just don't care.

I've always wondered how people can just not care. I was (and probably still am) one of those people who indulged myself with a little self-pity. I used to shut people out. I never thought that anyone could understand how I feel because only I can feel this badly. But then I met someone who just said to me, "cut the bullshit. You have all that you need. Your family. Your friends. Your life. Your health. Everyone loves you. What are you crying for?" And that was my wake up call.

I also used to run away from my problems. I worked seven days so I was always distracted. And after work I was always out. It was just easier that way. After a few years, the problems that I was running away from seemed so petty. It's not a problem. It's a misunderstanding. So I took whatever opportunities I got after that - socially, professionally and personally - as a chance for me to learn and make something different out of it.

It certainly hasn't been an easy task. I took a few victims with me along the way. But it was through those times that I learnt what's best and what's not. I began excelling in my career, which created a whole new set of problems that I don't mind having.

People make choices in life. Some are not always the best ones, but all are certainly your own. Whether you admit to it or not. Mine may not be the best for you, or suit you, but nonetheless, it's my own. Right now, I choose to make the most of my life when I have the time to. I choose to continue excelling in whatever areas I feel are best for me and my future. And I choose a life that I see happiest for me.

People always say you need to walk a mile in someone's elses shoes to know what their lives are like. I prefer reading quotations from people. Because words are a much more powerful tool than any other method of choice. What a person says is usually something that comes from a situation that they've experienced - be it bad, good, happy, sad, hurtful or angry. It's up to us how we choose to see it. We may agree, disagree, call them a moron or whatever you like. But in the end, how you choose to react and see it from another person's point of view is up to you.

I have a few quotes of life I I live by. It serves as a reminder of what other people have experienced and achieved, and what I should use as a motivator to better myself:

"Don't say you don't have enough time. You have exactly the same number of hours per day as Helen Keller, Pasteur, Michelangelo, Mother Teresa, Leonardo da Vinci, Thomas Jefferson and Albert Einstein." - H. Jackson Brown

"A person who knows how to laugh at himself will never cease to be amused." - Shirley Maclaine

"We need an opposition to remind us if we are making mistakes. When you are not opposed, you think everything you do is right." - Tun Mahathir Mohamad

"You know you're in love when you can't fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams." Dr Seuss

I remember this one scene in the first Transformers movie where one of the robots shaped in a police car was interogating Sam for his grandfather's glasses. Naturally, he was terrified. And why wouldn't he be? Out of nowhere comes this thing that demands something from him. No introduction, no niceties...just a bomb.

There are some parts of my life that scares me too. And now I know why. No person should ever be forced to say or do something they don't want or are not comfortable with. Especially if they're going to be taunted for not doing so afterwards. I'd rather leave the peer pressure in my teenage years.

Work hard. Play safe.

Peace.

Blank

2010-02-10T02:03:00.000-08:00

Wednesday, 10 February 2010 @ 6.04pm

I used to be so good three years ago. I used to have a lot of strong points. I used to be independent and reliable. I used to be everyone's shoulder, arm, extension, person to lean on. I used to be able to separate my different worlds. I used to be able to handle all the stress. I used to be able to handle whatever was thrown at me. Not anymore...

Maybe it's the wedding. Maybe it's the lack of support. Maybe it's this heavy weight in my heart that I'v been keeping. Maybe it's everything. Maybe it's nothing. Maybe I just need a holiday. Maybe I need to re-asess my priorities. Maybe I need to re-identify what's important and what's not. But how do I do that when everything seems to be important?

I need to focus on Trix to avoid anymore major mistakes. I need to focus on Get Crafty to get the new outlet up and running. I need to focus on my wedding. I need to focus on people who mean something to me. I need to focus on people who are depending on me to help them. But when do I focus on me?

No, that's just an excuse. Stop making excuses. That's all I'm good for now, and all I've been good for God knows how long. The seven months that I long to forget and block out of my mind broke my spirit. It took from me all I had and all I've got, and I don't know how to get it back. I don't know when I'll have the time to get it back.

It's not fair to those who depend on me. It's not fair to those who have placed their trust in the person who was once so good and so dependable. It's not fair to those I've made a commitment. It's not fair to those I've made promises to.

I need an escape. I don't need your advice. I don't need to hear what you have to say. Because I've already heard it all before, and I've already been telling myself the same thing. I just need to get away. I need to go on my lone drives again. I need to go to the gym again. I need to have those quiet days alone again.

Please give me the strength to go through these next few months.
Please give me the support I need to gather this strength.
Please give me the help you know I will never ask for.
Please forgive me for all the mistakes I've made, and the carelessness that has caused all this trouble.
Please let me go back to how I used to be.

Amin.

Karma

2010-01-18T20:49:00.000-08:00

Tuesday, 19 January 2010 @ 2.08pm

Worthless people blame their karma. - Burmese Proverb

What right do you have dictating and deciding what karma is? Have you gone beyond your means to do something that you have a right to be proud of? Did you forget where you come from and who you were before you've become who you are today? Do you think that what you've done / been doing / still do is so holy and righteous? Have you gone above and beyond everyone else to have the right to think that a person deserves being kicked, punched, robbed and hit by a car?

It's sad that people forget who they are, or what others have done for them. It's sad when a person cannot go beyond themselves and their own pain to realise that there are other people around them. There is a fine line between hate and pity and I think you just crossed that line with me.

I played the impartial friend, the one who didn't want to take sides, the one who did her best to play the shoulder to cry on for both. I didn't want to listen to stories, and I never argued or participated when people questioned why I didn't pick a side. Because I thought you were worth it. And I thought you were going through a difficult time and needed a friend. Now I see you're just being spiteful for no good reason.

NO ONE deserves to be kicked in the back while they're walking to work. NO ONE deserves to be held while another person hits them. NO ONE deserves to be made a spectacle while being robbed. NO ONE deserves to be alone while they're filing a police report. NO ONE deserves to be hit by a car on the way to work. NO ONE deserves to have seven stitches in their lip. NO ONE deserves to only see through one eye. And NO ONE deserves to be laughed at and being blamed for their 'karma' when they are being prepped for surgery.

You forgot who was there when YOU were robbed. You forgot who put your pants on when YOU wouldn't stop bleeding from your face. You forgot who came rushing to YOUR side when you were bleeding and walking home with no one helping you. You forgot who who accompanied YOU to the police station.

I have never felt so much disappointment, anger, sadness and betrayal then when I read what I did. I just hope you remember this one day when YOUR karma comes and bites you in the ass. After all, you're the big believer in karma right?

Would you...?

2009-12-08T02:22:00.000-08:00

Tuesday, 8 December 2009 @ 6.36pm

Would you call yourselves a loving couple if you call each other names like ‘stupid asshole’, ‘dumb shit’ and ‘fucker’?

Would you call yourselves a happy couple if the only time you smiled and laughed at your partner is when someone else is making fun of your partner?

Would you call yourselves a happy couple if the only time you’re nice to each other is when you want something from the other?

Would you call yourselves a happy couple if you scowl at each other all the time but automatically turn on the fake smiles when there are strangers around – especially if they were mat salleh?

Would you call yourselves a happy couple if you, as the man, do not protect your woman as you should, instead belittling her with harsh words?

And would you call yourselves a happy couple if you, as the woman, do not respect your man and treat a piece of dirt better than you do him?

Didn’t think so.

Farce

2009-11-23T19:04:00.000-08:00

Tuesday, 24 November 2009 @ 11.18am

We’re struggling.

I didn’t realise it (or maybe I did but just didn’t want to believe it) until I typed the words out. I’ve always portrayed this strong person. And always believed that there was always a solution, always a way out. I always thought that I could handle anything and everything. Heart made of steel.]

Until recently.

Recent events has forced me to stop denying what I was feeling – lost, hopeless, desperation. People always say I’m strong and confident and nothing can hurt me or bring me down.

It’s all a lie. A farce. A mask. I hate feeling vulnerable. I hate feeling weak. So I went on the defensive. I worked longer. I kept myself busy.

But this morning, I couldn’t keep up the farce any longer. It’s getting nearer. And I had to admit it. We’re struggling.

Please help me.

I Heart Get Crafty

2009-11-23T01:54:00.000-08:00

Monday, 23 November 2009 @ 6.08pm

Imagine screaming children, lots of hugs and laughter, with the occasional tears. That’s what you usually get when you’re at Get Crafty. I remember my very first time walking into Get Crafty. It was on a weekend and I was with my sister and her kids on our way to lunch at Cozy House. I was in the midst of an ugly break up and wanted to fill up my time to get away from reality.

The sign said they were looking for part-time art teachers. I saw bright colours, smiling faces and heard the sounds of hairdryers in the background as I hastily filled in the form. I told the CSR attending to me – who would later become my friend known as Ken Li – that I would drop by one of these days to hand over my resume. Which I really did, a week later.

It was a Thursday when Soo called and asked me to come in for an interview on a Saturday. I didn’t know what to expect. I’d only just started working at Trix (my first ‘real’ job) and was still in the transition of uni-goer to career woman. Or at least, that was how I felt at the time.

I didn’t know how to dress. So I thought casual chic. I wore a white top with black three-quarter pants. Which I was told by Soo and Roza jokingly that if I were going to work there, don’t even think of wearing anything white and anything nice. I got the job after a 20-minute interview. And was asked to come to work the following day, which was Sunday. As I was walking out, Jet told me to wear blue as that was the colour of the week.

My first day of work, I was told to go to the Ground floor with Soo. There was a booth set up for Easter. I was quickly briefed on what I had to do. I met Audrey and Angie later in the afternoon. Didn’t really think much of them then. My mind was trying hard not t focus on methods of trying to let him to let me go.

When Soo asked me to go for my lunch break, I gladly went up to the noisy calm of the The Chicken Rice Shop. I was getting a migraine from the children. Some were loud. Some had to be coaxed. Some asked a lot of questions. And some just sat and did nothing. One asked me to draw a crocodile on their Easter Bunny bag. I convinced her that stars and polka dots looked better. Angie was impressed by my lack of needing to question Soo or anyone else before making this decision.

It got better over the weeks. The break up was done with and I finally started getting to know the other teachers a little better. Although I usually took my lunch break with Soo, I started to feel some sort of a bond with Zaza, Iqa, Jet, Melinda and Ken Li.

Then over the years, and over the three times that I quit and came back, things began to progress. I got better with handling children – good ones, naughty ones, disabled ones, and even satanic ones. I also got noticed by my boss as somewhat of a leader, which lately has evolved to my new position among the other teachers – momma.

I learned to work smart. When I became CSR, my responsibilities included handling parents, which surprisingly (even to myself), turned out to be something that was incredibly easy for me to do. It just felt natural. So natural that I was soon called “the top salesman” at the centre by Audrey. It was also around this time that the other teachers started confiding in me their worries and problems. As did the parents.

I started getting ideas for the centre. I was always thinking of ways to improve. And I always tried to find a way for things to work systematically, faster, easier and more conveniently for teachers. I changed what I felt was needed and I voiced my concerns where I thought only Audrey could get my message across. This led me to the title another title by Audrey – Business Development.

It’s been three years since I first walked into the centre to fill in the application form. I was a much younger (physically and mentally) person, who was conflicted and in pain. There are children who I’ve seen grow – physically and mentally too. Now, there are many, many parents who actually think I own or run the centre. They see me in control and they seem to like the fact that there is that sort of ‘mother figure’ around when they drop their children off.

I am also a part of the Get Crafty family, where we are all sisters, but most see me as their ‘momma’. We’ve created a special bond where we do not establish ourselves as colleagues. But we work together and we stick together as a team. And it’s for this reason that I have left and come back many times. And it’s for this reason that I heart Get Crafty.

The Rest of Our Lives

2009-11-20T01:12:00.000-08:00

Friday, 20 November 2009 @ 6.06pm

Dear Sayang,

From the day I met you, you had always made me feel special. You always made me believe that I was the only woman you saw in the room. You always made me believe that I am your one and only.

You have made tremendous sacrifices on your part to make sure that I'm happy. You will do whatever you can to make me smile. And for that I appreciate it. And for that, I love you.

I used to spend hours at the restaurant or cafe that you were working at, just so I could spend whatever time I have with you. Even if you were too busy running around, managing staff or customers, you always made a point to come and sit with me, even if just for a while. My favourite memory of one of my visits was when I was seated alone reading the paper waiting for my dinner. You came and sat across from me, newspaper in hand. It was a spontaneous dinner. Although a quiet one, you ate with me :)

We seem to always be speaking a lannguage of our own. I didn't have to elaborate what I had to say, and you didn't have to express yourself for me to know exactly what you meant. It seemed as though we fit.

We were different where we were able to compliment each other. And we were similar where it was ok to be. You knew when things were difficult, and all I had to do was look for you to know that things were going to be ok. And I never have to look around or be worried because I always knew tha you were there for me, watching me, whenever I needed you. I knew I would never be lost in a crowd as long as you were there with me.

You have always been behind me, in anything that I needed your support in. When I wanted to quit my job, you encouraged me every step of the way. You understood when things were getting rough in the new job and never pushed me when I came home late or when I rarely saw you.

When I wanted to leave the new job and go back to Trix, you asked me whether that was what I really wanted. You knew I was at a breaking point and you knew that I needed help. You came with me when I had to be in the office at the wee hours of the morning. You sat and waited while I was with the designers. And you never once complained or told me to hurry up.

You knew how ambitious I am. You knew that I always needed a challenge. And you asked me to remember why I left in the first place. But you never stood in my way. You just gave me the slight push that I needed, but you never told me what to do.

Lately, you changed your career because you said you wanted to build us a brighter and better future. You told me that I deserved the whole world and more. You told me that things will get better and we'll be happier. But then you were the first to admit that we were going through a rough patch. That we weren't spending as much time as we used to and that things were a bit rough.

It was in the middle of the night when we were in the midst of a fight. I accused you of ignoring me. And you accused me of not supporting you. Somewhere in the heat of the moment, you said, "What's your rush yang? We have the rest of our lives to be together."

And that's when it hit me. You're right. We do have the rest of our lives together. We're building a future together. So what the hell was I going on about? I'm sorry I wasn't supportive. And I'm sorry to have added to that stress. Just know that I'll always be behind you. Because you are my man. And because I always will.

Yours truly,
Yang

Silent Tears

2009-11-12T17:49:00.000-08:00

Friday, 13 November 2009 @ 10.03am

I miss you. I know I’m not allowed to say it or feel this way. You’ve warned me about the hours. You’ve warned me that this is for our future. But I can’t help it.

I know that things will change (and hopefully not in the next twenty years). I know that you’re doing this to build a better life for us. I know that things will get much better.

But I’m lonely. I wait for you till I can’t keep my eyes open anymore. And I wake you up just to get ready for work. I only communicate with you when I need the car.

I don’t tell you because you’ve told me this is for the better. I don’t share anything with you because I don’t want to add to the stress. I don’t tell you because I see you have other things in your mind.

I hear you talking in your sleep. It must not be easy to have so many things on your mind. So I’ll keep it quiet. And keep my silent tears inside. Because I know that one day things will change. I know that one day things will be better.

Against all my better judgement...

2009-11-04T02:05:00.000-08:00

Wednesday, 4 November 2009@6.20pm

Against all my better judgment, I thought no, it's ok. There'll be someone to get me. !(#&*$&#)(&%(&#%)*#&%)(#&%*)($&*&$)%*&$!!!!!

Against all my better judgment, I thought no, it's ok. There'll always be another day.
!)$*#&$&(*#$)(*$^)*&#$@&*^)@(#*@(*$&@)($*#@(*!!!!

Against all my better judgment, I thought no, it's ok. There'll always be more to come.
!)*@#($*^#$&^)*$&#*(&#$(*#)(@#(@$(&#%)#(*$*_@#(!!!!!

Fuck fuck. Fucking fuck. There I said it. !(#*@)(#&#$*&#)%*&#$_(*#$)(*#$(&#%*(#&$(#*$()#!!!!!

He was only 10

2009-08-13T02:05:00.000-07:00

Thrusday, 13 August 2009 @ 5.18pm

He was always vague about the actual month or year of his mother’s death. I was just told she had cancer, it was too late when they found it and there was nothing more that they could do about it. Whenever I asked how old he was, he always said he was still in primary. I’d always assumed he was around his early teens.

The other day, I suggested we go visit his mother’s grave. I thought it was better to go before puasa, Raya, and definitely before we got engaged. To me, it was a sort of sign of respect before we went to that next level. His sister wanted to follow.

When we arrived, he was already looking a little anxious. Losing his mother was the defining moment in his life. It set his character. It hardened him and it made him stronger. He was the eldest and was immediately expected to ensure his siblings are taken care of. He made that his last promise to his mother.

We arrived first. He led me the way. The grave had white stone around it, with white pebbles placed neatly on top of it. It was placed under a tree. Eddie started brushing away the leaves and the dirt. I took a moment to stand and tried to digest the fact that this grave belonged to Eddie’s mother. The person who had nurtured and raised him, even to her very last days. The person whom Eddie adored and still misses to this day.

The lump in my throat was forming. I brushed it away and started picking off dirt from between the pebbles. Eddie then sat next to the grave. His mouth was already moving in hush tones of Al-Fatihah. He motioned for me to sit next to him and I did.

His sister arrived with her husband in tow. She was already holding back the tears. She immediately squatted by the grave and prayed, tears rolling down her cheeks while her hands were busy picking off the tiny bits I’d missed. Eddie got up and salam her husband, then kissed his sister’s head. She’s a year younger than he, and was always being told that she was the splitting image of her late mother.

I saw through his sunglasses that Eddie was holding back his tears too. He moved one grave away. Also white stone, also under the tree. His mother’s mother. His grandmother. She passed a year after his mother did. Again, he busied himself cleaning her grave. I followed suit. I glanced over and saw that Ijah’s tears were continuous, as were her prayers and her hands.

Eddie and I prayed for his grandmother. As we got up, Ijah moved over to us. Eddie and I went back to his mother’s grave to pour water over it. It was then that I finally saw the headstone. I didn’t understand most of it because it was written in Jawi. The only thing I understood was the date. 5.6.1991. He lost her when he was ten years old. I looked up at him. He was scrubbing the headstone and mumbling that he wants to come back more often – maybe plant something.

My heart broke. He had just turned ten years old when his mother passed away. Which means he was eight and a half when they found her cancer. He tells me stories about her all the time. Sometimes he guesses how tall he is if he were to stand next to her now. He tells me she liked to make handicraft. And keep the house clean. His fondest memory was of his last Raya with her. He had had a fever and was home alone with her while everyone else had gone to visit relative’s homes.

He said he was lying with a blanket wrapped around him. His mother came up to him and asked if he wanted her to cook bihun sup for him since he didn’t have an appetite for Raya food. He did. He told me even in her ill health, she made him bihun sup. And that was the last dish she ever cooked for him.

Melbourne

2009-07-21T01:38:00.000-07:00

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.

Monday

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 :)

Tuesday

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.

Wednesday

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.

Thursday

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.

Friday

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.

Saturday

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.

Sunday

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 café – especially during spring and summer days (during winter I was almost always at home with the heater on).

Cash Converters

2009-07-16T21:21:00.000-07:00

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

Wayang

2009-07-04T18:32:00.000-07:00

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.

Technology

2009-06-24T21:23:00.000-07:00

Thursday, 25 June 2009 @ 12.35pm

I thought I lost Eddie yesterday. No, not in the sense that we were breaking up. He was out of range. I found him again after probably the most dreadful and panicky 30 minutes of my life. But then it got me thinking, where would we be without technology?

Eddie had to start work at 7am yesterday. When I woke him up, he was hot and feverish. He’d already complained of a sore throat the night before. When I left him in the living room before heading to my room, he was already coughing and sniffling. I told him not to go to work, and that I’d send him to the doctor to get an MC. He replied through his blocked nose, “Tho, tho…I habe to go.” The translation? “No, no…I have to go.”

When we reached Bangsar, he didn’t look good. I urged him to go to the doctor. No - He’s as stubborn as I am. I told him to try and get half day if he could. Before he walked off, he said, “Tho, tho…”

At 1pm, I was just about to get my lunch when he called. He couldn’t make it. He felt horrible and asked me to get him. I couldn’t. Trix is not like Mega. I couldn’t go as I pleased. There are rules at Trix. I apologised and he said he’ll ask a staff to take him. At 2.30pm, he called again and asked me to get him. He got an MC. I apologised again and said I could only pick him up after work. He said he’ll just sleep in the office till then.

At 4pm, as I was chatting to Ina through email, I mentioned to her that Eddie was sick and stranded at Bangsar till I could fetch him. She said that she was leaving work early and could pick him up and bring him to Trix. Great. I called Eddie. He didn’t answer. I tried again. The phone was switched off. I called the outlet. They told me he’d left. I freaked out. “Where did he go? How did he leave? I was supposed to pick him up! He has no transport and he’s not well.” The staff just kept saying, “Sorry ma’am.” And the panic began to set in…

I kept calling his phone. Sometimes it rang, but he didn’t pick up. But then it would go to voicemail. I was panicking. Where was he? How did he go? Is he ok? Ina told me to calm down and just keep trying. I called his friends. They haven’t heard from him. Shit. In my head, I was thinking I’d go to the outlet after work and search for him. If I couldn’t, then call his friend and find a way to trace him. If I couldn’t, then find friends who were nearby Bangsar. In all this time, I just kept calling and calling and calling. And each time, all I heard was the operator tell me that he’s not available. He finally picked up. He was asleep and grumpy. I immediately called Ina and his friends to alert them that he’s still in the office, asleep. The staff didn’t know he was in there.

The thought of not knowing where a person is, or how to get in contact with him is probably one of the most terrifying experiences of my life. You don’t know where they are, whether they’re ok, and how you’re going to get in contact with them.

That got me thinking…how did we manage without technology before this? How could we go about without mobile phones and laptops and what not? And when did we all become so connected? I know that I can contact people through their mobiles, or office phones, or email or Facebook or one way or another. But the moment they’re not connected anymore, we panic. But even if we are connected through technology, we don’t have the same connection as the generations before us.

Before technology, communities were created through physical and verbal contact. You had to make a hell of a lot more effort then than you do now. At this moment, I am connected to a woman called Ivy. We’re often in contact with each other. I know what she looks like, I know what she does, I know her phone numbers and even where she lives. But I have never met her in my life. How did we meet? www.mudah.com.my Ivy sells clothes online and I was interested in a kimono dress that I found through this website.

I got the dress. It was posted to my house. I just put cash into her account and the next day, ta-da! New dress to wear to the office. Ivy added me on Facebook and emails me regularly on her new clothes stock. Through Ivy, I’m also in contact with Toto Lace, who also sells clothes online. But I have never met these women. They know my body size, where I live, what I do for a living, what style of clothes I like to wear, and what my budget is every month.

As with everything else, technology has both its good and bad sides. It allows you to meet and explore a whole new world. It’s fast, convenient, and it keeps you connected. But it also means its easier for people to prey on you. For them to get your personal details or sabotage you by placing discriminating photos or comments that could tarnish you reputation forever.

The mobile phone is definitely another little wonder that has all the good points going for it. It’s mobile, it’s accessible, it helps you out in any situation (provided that your phone hasn’t been barred), and it’s a way to keep you in contact with your loved ones. But once you switch it off…that’s it. You’re disconnected. I never thought or felt that technology had such a major impact on me until yesterday. I never really thought twice about it. But when you’re disconnected…you’re out of contact, out of touch, out of range. If it’s with the one you love, that’s the scariest feeling in the world

A Passion for English

2009-06-22T23:52:00.001-07:00

Tuesday, 23 June 2009 @ 3.07pm

We were in the car, talking about which schools are good and what sort of education our children should have (yes, it might be early. But it’s always good to start planning ahead).

I said that we should encourage them to learn Mandarin, and that we would learn and practice with them. He agreed. I said that they could go to him for BM and Agama, and myself for English. He agreed. Then I said, “who are they going to go to for Math?”

This question led to him asking me why I was (and still am) so bad at numbers. I told him that they’d done research that your teacher can be a very big influence in your liking a subject or not. I have never had a good Math teacher – or at least not one who was able to spark my interest.

From kindergarten, I’ve had Math teachers who were more interested in their own personal lives then they were of actually teaching Math. In my history of Math teachers, two stood out the most. One was an overweight Chinese lady called Mrs Beulah. And the only reason I remembered her was because of her name. She was actually kind of jolly too. Oh, and she spoke about her husband a lot.

The other was Ms Ting. I, along with eight other Math misfits were in Group 9 (the lowest possible group made possible specially for us lost causes) were put in her class for the last two years of our high school days. She I remembered because all she did was preach about Jesus Christ and what she did at Church. (You can now see why I don’t really fancy Math).

There were two more that I don’t so much remember their names or faces. Just situations that involved them. One was when I was in Grade 7 (Form 1). She was a depressing woman. Every time she walked in the classroom, it felt like she brought with it all the bad energy and dark forces with her. It didn’t help that the classroom was at the far corner of the school and already felt like a cave. The other one was an English man. I forgot his name. He just didn’t care. I remember once I copied the sums and answers from the text book and returned it to him. I was so sure that I was going to get into trouble. I didn’t really care at the time (what with puberty and all…) And what did he do? Marked it all correct, praised my good effort and gave me an A+. He was quite puzzled when I failed during the exams.

Eddie then asked me why I liked English so much. Ahh…another story all together. My first teacher was called Mrs Button. She told me that when you read a book, you could paint beautiful pictures in your mind and make it your own. She taught me how to use my imagination. I remember once in Standard Two, my teacher, Mrs Linda, gave the class two options – watch a video or write a story. I was the only one who chose to write a story. Mrs Linda tried to convince me to join my classmates and watch the video. But I was determined to write. So I sat alone at the corner of the classroom writing.

When I was in Grade 7 (I didn’t go to Grade 6, so a lot of significant moments happened when I transferred from Grade 5 to Grade 7 – really opened up my eyes), I had Mr Moss for English. He was the new teacher at school and had a new method of teaching. He wanted us to write. No text book references, no nothing. Each class, we were made to write about something that came from us.

In Grade 8, they introduced English Literature, which we were taught once a week. Mr Moss was my teacher again. This year, he opened me up to the world of Shakespeare. He made us play the parts and read the lines.

In Grade 9, we were allowed to choose what subjects we wanted to take besides the mandatory Math, English and one Science subject. I chose Art, Design & Technology, Development Studies and English Literature. The last three years of high school was probably the best time of my teenage life.

I did a Diploma of Mass Communications, and that opened me up to journalism – soft and hard news, as well as different sorts of styles of reporting. University was the breaking point in my life. I was doing my bachelors in Media and Communications, but majored in Cultural Studies and Philosophy. This opened me up to Albert Camus and James Joyce, among many other writers, philosophers and sociologists whom I couldn’t get enough of during my years in Melbourne.

I told Eddie all this, explaining to him everything in detail. I even gave him some examples of my favourite authors. I told him about Roald Dahl and his infamous twist in the tales. And as I spoke and spoke, I didn’t realise that I have allowed English Literature to become such a big part of my life. I think this was one of the reasons why I couldn’t accept being just an AE. I’ve been back at Trix for only a week, but feel more useful in the last week then I have in the last six months.

I may have honed my skills as an AE and have learnt to deal with all sorts of people, but my years spent learning, reading, living and breathing has made me become what I am today. I am an Editor.

The Truth is...

2009-06-15T18:30:00.000-07:00

Tuesday, 16 June 2009 @ 9.44am

The truth is…my life has been a total chaos. Ever since I left Trix, there hasn’t been any structure in my life. Those who know me know that I’m an organised, OCD neat freak. They know that I need order in my life – that everything has a time and place.

The truth is…it took three times before they let me go. And when they finally did, it was because of some clever manipulation that took place after I realised there was no black and white holding me back.

The truth is…for the past six or seven months, I felt dread and misery on Sunday evenings. And that’s because I didn’t want another week to start.

The truth is…in the last couple of months I’ve been questioning myself and my abilities as a writer (I started doubting myself after I joined that fucking job). And that was one of the reasons why I wanted to leave so bad.

The truth is…I haven’t been spending much time with anybody lately. Everyone I know gets a couple of hours (if they're lucky) here and there. And yes, I still blame that fucking job.

The truth is…I didn’t realise how much that fucking job affected my life and lifestyle till I was in the car driving with Martha next to me. She asked why I wanted to have dinner. My reply, “because I have time.” After a giggle and a high five, it was then that I realised that I really have had no life in the last six months.

The truth is…I need to start making the effort to spend time with certain people, especially those who have been the worse neglected.

The truth is…I’ve been living like a nomad for the past six months that I have to learn to stand firm again. That fucking job made me run from place to place without a breath, and at all hours of the day (and sometimes night). I need to learn to live normally again.

The truth is…I came back to Trix yesterday, and it was like I never left. I came in, got briefed on five newsletters and went on with it.

The truth is…it felt strange to leave the office at 6.30pm yesterday, with the sun still up. What felt even stranger was that everyone else was leaving too. At that fucking job, I always had to make an excuse even if I wanted to leave at 7.30pm!

The truth is…the grass always seems greener on the other side. But I’ve been there, and I’ve lived it. And I can guarantee you that it’s not.

The truth is…I’m an Editor again. And I love it.

I Kena Ngorat!!

2009-05-13T00:49:00.000-07:00

Wednesday, 13 May 2009 @ 3.51pm

I got hit on the other day. I’d just bought breakfast from the bakery downstairs. Heading back to the office, I decided to call Ina. I noticed a man was sort of following me, but paid no attention since he also looked sort of lost. He was playing with his mobile and looking at the names and numbers of the building. I was standing at the lifts heading to my office, swinging my breakfast and chatting with Ina. Then it happened.

Guy: Excuse me.

I tell Ina to hold thinking he was going to ask for directions and lower the phone by an inch so she can still hear everything.

Anna: Yes?

G: You look familiar.

A (laughing in my head): Have we met before?

G: I don’t think so. Do you work here?

A: Yes (pointing upwards).

G: Oh k…where are you from?

A: KL.

G: Which part?

A: (I tell him).

G: Oh k…I’m from Bangsar.

A: Ok…

G: Umm…can I have your number so we can keep in contact?

A (still laughing in my head): I’m already engaged.

G: Oh k…sorry. Thanks (and walks off)

I immediately go back to my phone and laugh, saying, “I kena ngorat!” Ina is already laughing when I excitedly re-enact the whole exchange.

Not only did that incident make my day, but the jealousy on Eddie’s face when I told him later that day made my night too :)

Who do I think I am?

2009-05-12T03:21:00.000-07:00

Getting engaged and getting married is supposed to be good news. It’s supposed to be a time where you have family and friends by your side. They’re there for support, to help you out with the decisions that you’re about to make, and they’re there to celebrate the joy that you should be feeling.

The initial shock has passed. The only one who is feeling joy at the moment is Eddie. He hugged me the other day and said in my ear, “we’re getting married.” Of course I smiled. Of course I was happy. But I wasn’t feeling the same joy that he’s basking in at the moment. I was once there with him too. I was feeling that float-in-the-air, oh-my-god-we’re-getting-married feeling too. But now my smile masks what I really feel.

No one is helping or asking or interested in my upcoming engagement. Yes, there’s definitely been some help. There have been some who have offered phone numbers and references to photographers, make-up artists and those who can create beautiful cupcakes for me. But that was only because I requested for help.

I was once enthusiastic. I had books and magazines and meetings set and fabric waiting to be cut and sewn into a gown. When did I put all that on hold? When did I put all that aside?

I don’t think I’ve ever felt more alone or more upset with everyone that I know. But everyone’s got their own problems to deal with. Who am I to ask or expect any help? Who do I think I am that people would actually want to take time out of their lives to help me? It’s selfish and I don’t deserve it.

Ever since I lived in Melbourne, I’ve been used to doing everything alone. Why should things be different now? Why should I expect people to want to be more involved with my engagement and wedding? It’s as though my relationship with Eddie has to be hush hush. No, let’s not talk about it out loud. If we do, then it might be true. Fuck that.

Eddie and I are really doing this on our own. We are really not getting any help from anybody. Physically, emotionally, mentally and financially. It’s all really on our own. And still…maybe I’m just living in a fantasy world thinking that somebody would actually want to be a part of what I think is one of the most important stages of my life. But then again…I’ve been constantly told to have no feeling. Don’t get emotional. Make sure you smile. Make sure everything’s fine. Even if it’s not. Don’t tell anyone your problems. Everyone’s an enemy. Shh…the neighbours might hear you.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt more alone and more sad in my life. I thought this was meant to be a happy occasion. An occasion where for once, it was about me. Not my brothers. Not my sister. Not her kids. Not my mother. Not my father. Not my friends. Not my work. NOTHING else. But who do I think I am? It’s never been about me. Who do I think I am to think that it should be about me now?

This entry will probably upset a few. Cause them to pull long and sour faces. It might also spark some to suddenly want to help and be enthusiastic. But it’s ok. Do and feel what you want. Tell me I have too much pride and ego if you want. I just needed to write this and let off some steam. I can always harden my heart again. And I’m more than happy to share this joy with his family instead. It seems like they’re the only ones who are interested in our engagement anyway.

Last but not least, as I’ve said countless times before: if everything in my blog hurts your feelings, stop reading it.

The Princess Cut

2009-05-06T23:07:00.000-07:00

Thursday, 7 May 2009 @ 2.08pm

I tried on my engagement ring yesterday. It was the seventh jewellery store that I visited. But when I slipped it on, it fit right. It was the one.

As an advertising Account Executive, there are many things that we have to do besides ‘servicing’ clients (whore, whore, whore). We also get to do market research – mostly to see how well our client’s brand is doing in the market, or to see how well their competitors were.

One of our clients is quite prominent in the jewellery line. And they’re aiming to launch a new collection but weren’t exactly sure who their rivals were yet. That’s where I come in :) Yesterday, I started work at 10.30am. And that was only because that’s the time rival jewellery stores open :)

Eddie insisted on tagging along because it was his day off and it’s quite rare for us to be able to spend time together during the day. Our first stop was Ampang Point. There were two prominent stores outside the shopping mall. One boasted huge posters at the side of their building. Once inside, I wasn’t all too impressed. The glass was all scratched, making the jewellery look cheap. My MO was to walk in, and ask them to show me their collection of engagement rings. Then only would I ease the matter of price range, seasonal and promotional items and guest profiles into the conversation. And I figured I’m looking for an engagement ring anyway…might as well kill two birds with one stone.

After hitting the second store, we went to Pavilion. My first thought was Tiffany & Co. Eddie didn’t want to follow me in there. He said he looks shabby and would rather hang out at Dome. Fine by me. I pulled my act together, put it in my head that I could afford anything in the store and walked in with an air of elegance and slight arrogance. They bought it. Not long after I started looking at their engagement rings, the sales assistant motioned to the security guard, who proceeded to close the door and stand guard. They didn’t let anybody else in and I was given VIP treatment. I spent a good half hour in there, looking at everything and questioning everything.

The next couple of stores were not as daunting to walk into as Tiffany & Co. And in every store, I would spend a good half hour trying on rings, talking about price range and what their most popular items were. There was one however, which was situated at the very corner of Pavilion and was extremely secluded. The only reason you would be walking around the area is if you were actually going to buy something. This time, I had to play that arrogant and rich card, with my nose held just high enough. They bought it.

I requested to see a princess cut engagement ring. She tells me she has a three-carat one. I, playing the rich and arrogant customer, say, “yeah sure, let me have a look.” She proceeds to the back of the store while I drool over the other rings. She comes back with a ring the size of a standard eraser. Inside I was freaking out, but outside, I portrayed a face that said, ‘ah, not too bad.’ I play along and even try it on! But unfortunately, didn’t fit, to which she immediately says that they can alter the size for me. I ask her how much. Her answer? “RM183,000.” I’m screaming in my head. But I just looked at her and say, “Not too bad. But it’s too big for my taste. Do you have other princess cut rings?”

Having played the rich snob for a few more stores, Eddie and I then decided to go to Lot 10 to see what my client’s store was like. Big disappointment. There was another jewellery store right next door. It was the seventh store that we walked in. I played the customer again, this time with Eddie by my side. I didn’t really expect much since I’d been told in the last six stores that princess cut was limited since there wasn’t a popular demand in this country.

I only asked for princess cut because it was a part of my starting line as undercover customer. But lit up when he showed me their range. This time, there wasn't just one that was yellow, or one the had four small diamonds put together. This time, they actually had a range of rings that I'd always dreamed of having for my engagement. Eddie was to my left, looking for wedding bands. I was eagerly trying on all their princess cut rings.

At almost the same time, Eddie had chosen our wedding bands just as I’d chosen my engagement ring. We were sold.

Kursus Kahwin & Two Accidents

2009-05-06T01:33:00.000-07:00

Wednesday, 6 May 2009 @ 4.49pm

Week One: Kursus Kahwin

A friend of mine told me that the fee for the kursus kahwin (which is mandatory by law) would be increased from its current rate of RM80 to a ridiculous RM300+ (per person!!). Eddie and I won’t be getting married till next July (if all goes well), but the thought of having to fork out RM300+ each was enough to make us apply for leave on a Saturday and Sunday almost immediately.

Day One - Saturday

The course didn’t start till 2.30pm. So Eddie decided that we go look at fabric for the dress that I’d be wearing for the engagement. We went to the heart of the city and didn’t know where to start. Every corner you turned there were people handing out flyers and discount after discount and people handing out flyers… We finally went into Jakel – a three-storey haven of cotton, silk, linen and lace.

Entering, the staff was littered at every nook and cranny of the store that was already packed with people. I told them I wanted fabric for my engagement and was led to the third floor. I wanted everything. While I was busy looking at the fabric and lace and mixing and matching with the store assistant, Eddie had sneaked off to the ‘men’s corner’. When it was time to pay, I found him sleeping at the couch.

We had a quick lunch at Wangsa Maju before heading straight for the centre. There were already other couples waiting in the sitting area. There was also a group of friends (four girls and three boys) who were busy giggling at every single thing in sight. I immediately guessed that of the seven, there was probably a couple while the rest came to accompany them. (Later that day when the Ustaz were asking the men which ones their partners were, only one admitted to being a couple while the rest just giggled. I was right.)

After registering, Eddie and I went into the room where the course would take place over the day and a half. The seats were split into two sections – men and women – with an aisle down the middle. We sat at the back row next to the aisle and were an arm’s length away from each other. In other words, ‘next’ to each other.

I was already expecting boredom for the next four and a half hours. But instead, I got a lesson instead. Whatever the Ustaz was going on about, I either agreed with (since I’d already experienced it), or thought ‘Ohhhh!’ (because only then did I understand why Eddie behaved the way he does sometimes). They explained the differences between men and women, our roles as husbands and as wives, our roles as siblings and children, and if God is willing, our roles as fathers and mothers. Luckily, the two Ustaz for the day were interactive with us, the audience, which just made the time pass by faster.

Day Two: Sunday

I’d already warned Eddie the night before that we had to get up early because the course would be starting at 8.45am. I told him not to watch TV till the early hours of the morning. But did he listen? Of course not. It’s a good thing I insisted on him staying at my place. By the time I managed to get him off the couch it was already 8.15am. Luckily, it’s KL, meaning nothing ever starts on time.

When we reached, it was almost 9am. But the centre hadn’t even opened yet. We sat in the car and drank cold tin coffee and ate buns on the go. There were other couples from the day before sitting in the two cars on our left and right.

Eddie was really dreading this full-day course. He was sleepy and grumpy, but kept making faces at me so I’d smile instead of giving him the evil eye. The first half of the day went by fairly quickly. They spoke about communication between husband and wife, and how to treat each other’s families once we’d tied the knot. Being that most doubled as counselors at the Jawi or Jakim or whatever the place is called, they spoke a lot from their own experiences, or conveyed special cases from their clients.

At 12.30pm, the second Ustaz for the day bid his goodbye and we opened the door to packets of rice waiting to be devoured. Eddie and I settled on the couch in front of the TV and ate. The centre was three floors up, minus the elevator. We didn’t even bother going downstairs.

The first part of the second half saw our first and only Ustazah. She was also the bore of every course – the one that everyone dreads. Her topic focused on women’s role in the Islamic view, as well as in the reality view of life. For the first time in the many hours we’ve had to sit through, everyone was getting restless. I was trying hard to fight off sleep. But my eyelids were heavy. So I kept shifting positions, or kept sipping on water. I looked to my right, and an arm’s length away…was Eddie asleep…and drooling on his shirt! I was horrified. There was no way I could get up and wake him. The Ustazah was oblivious to everything around her. I didn’t know whether to be embarassed or angry. One of the giggly idiots from the front caught sight of Eddie and told her giggly idiotic friends. They turned and giggled upon seeing him. I saw red. No one laughs at my man.

I tried sms-ing him. In his sleep, he merely tried to push the vibrating phone that was in his pocket that was irritating him. I was just afraid that he would start talking in his sleep. I kept on watching him, ready to distract everyone should he start talking in his sleep. I had a plan and I wasn’t afraid to do it to protect my man. Luckily, as though his body had sensed it, he woke up ten minutes short of the end. He looked at me with his red eyes and smiled a sheepish smile. I mouthed to him to go wash his face. He just mouthed back, ‘I’m fine, I’m fine.’

During our ten-minute break before the final Ustaz, Eddie was energetic and fully awake (thanks to his nap) and I was grumpy and tired and pulling a face. Thank God the final Ustaz was not a boring pain in the ass. He spoke about health. He was interesting, interactive, funny and very informative. He also kept picking on me. He called me ‘orang Datuk Keramat’. He asked me about my diet, and my exercise regime, and my sleeping habits. But that was fine. At least it kept me alert enough not to sleep.

When the course was over, it was nearly dusk. We were bored, tired and hungry. And we were both irritated with each other. But we both felt we learnt something from it. I learnt that men express their love and care differently from women. They show they care by working hard, which also means spending less time with us >(. Women show their care and affection by taking care of their men and by nurturing them. Eddie admitted to me that he likes that I’ve started organising his life. He used to ignore everything or just dealt with it when it happened, but he said now there’s order in his life :)

Week Two: Two Accidents

The first one: He wasn’t moving…

I had gone to Dataran Prima then Damansara Jaya before making my way back to KL to another client’s office at The Nomad in Pavilion. I was driving, listening to the radio and just chilling. I was slowing to a stop at the traffic light which would turn to Jalan Yap Kwan Seng. If I had gone straight, then that would lead me to my office.

As I was nearing to a stop, I saw some men stopping to the left of my lane and getting off their bikes. The cars were also slowing down. As I got closer, I gasped in surprise when I saw a man, around my age or a little older, lying motionless on the ground. His head was split open and an island of blood was growing bigger on the ground. I started shrieking to myself in the car. He wasn’t moving. A man was hunched in front of him, probably trying to see if he’s ok. Others were standing around while some took the opportunity to direct traffic, all in the effort of making sure cars don’t run over him. I rolled down my window and heard them saying that he was hit by a car and the car drove off. He wasn’t moving…

I was paralysed for a moment. Every day I see bodies in the newspapers. But it’s different when it’s right there in front of you. He wasn’t moving. I contained my tears, told myself to calm down, and drove on to see my client.

The second one: She was in pain…

I’d just finished work and was on my way to see Eddie for an early dinner. It was a rare day where we both finished work before 7pm. The sun was still up and traffic was smooth. I was nearing my destination when I saw commotion on the opposite side of the road. I saw a bike that was turned upside down, and an elderly Chinese man trying to turn it over.

I drove slowly by and saw slippers on the ground. And another bike, smashed. I saw her face. She was in pain, barely conscious. Her boyfriend was dragging her to the side of the road. As I drove slowly on, I saw in my rear view mirror her feet as her boyfriend laid her on the ground.

I Miss...

2009-04-12T20:28:00.000-07:00

Monday, 13 April 2009 @ 11.29am

I miss Eddie

We used to meet for dates. We would meet after work and hang out at La Bodega. Have drinks and chat. We used to go for movies. Have popcorn and coke. He would hold me because I was cold. We would spend time at home. We would watch TV, DVDs…whatever was on. We used to go online together. We would take my laptop to a mamak and order drinks and maggie goreng. We did this because he wanted to chat with his brother. We would go for double, triple dates with other couples. We used to spend time together.

I miss Ina

I miss our lunches at the mamak, or at Pak Cik mahal, or KFC (whenever we could afford it ;p). I miss being able to literally run to the other side of the office to share news with Ina. Sometimes I’d come smiling, sometimes angry, and there were a couple of times I would tell her the news and cry. I miss being able to complain and just chat whenever we were free. I miss our 9am coffee and keropok/egg sandwich/karipap (or whatever we would bring to share) at the back of the office. Especially Mondays – that’s when we would update each other what’s happened over the weekend. I miss having the best friend in the office.

I miss Azfar and Falliq

I miss being carefree and chatting and laughing for hours. I miss us going for dinner and updating each other, or gossiping, or complaining or searching for cute boys – my favourite :). I miss how we used to be. Not like now – stressed, on edge, broke and tense. I miss the nights where we would go for dinner and a movie, or go kacau Eddie at Pavilion, or go wherever and just hang out. I miss our worry-less laughter and days where we would spend hours together. Not because we were working together or because we had set an appointment. Just because we wanted to spend time together.

I miss Azana

I miss being silly with Azana. And finishing each other’s sentences and practically reading each other’s minds. We used to meet six days out of the week and would spend hours and hours at Alexis or Delicious. Talking and laughing. Or we would run around KL or Bangsar or Damansara looking at clothes and shoes. We used to meet just to have desert. We used to constantly be in contact on the phone. Now when I do see her, it’s late at night and my body’s shutting down for the day already.

I miss Alexis

I miss having my time alone at Alexis. I miss sitting in a dim-lighted corner and just taking an hour or two out for the day. I miss having empty, conversational chats with the waiters. I miss having time to relax. I miss having enough time in the week to just take time out to breathe.

Kotak Letup

2009-04-08T04:35:00.000-07:00

Wednesday, 8 April 2009 @ 7.54pm

Imagine this. You've had a small misunderstanding a couple of days ago with your partner. You haven't seen them since. But he's coming to see you tonight. When he shows up, you open the gate with a frown on your face. He on the other hand, is smiling.

You continue frowning as he approaches you. Before you say anything, he arrives at your doorstep on his knee and holds up a small red box. You can't help it. You smile. His face can barely contain his delight. He looks at the box and notices it's closed. He quickly opens it and says something along the lines of, "for you, Sayang/my darling" (you don't really hear because you're too shocked and happy).

You know that he's already bought you the ring. He called you the day before asking for your ring size. You know that the ring is for him to give his stepmother when his family comes to merisik. But you never expected him to be so dramatic.

So you accept the ring with a huge smile and giggle. He, still on his knees, tells you to put it on. Your smile disappears and you're back to normal. "Mana boleh? Ni untuk merisik lah. It's bad luck."

Twenty minutes later, you're in the kitchen getting his dinner for him while he watches TV. You hear this pop sound and him giggling to himself. You go to investigate. He's holding the box and laughs when he sees you spying on him. He tells you that he requested for the kotak letup when he bought the ring. Not some "kotak cap ayam dengan ribbon buruk". Then he demonstrates to you by opening and closing the box, only to start giggling again.

An hour and a half later, you're upstairs in your room. You can't help it. You're smiling a secret smile as you slip the ring on. It doesn't fit. You put it back in the box, stomp downstairs and complain.

:)

Freeloader

2009-04-08T03:38:00.000-07:00

Wednesday, 8 April 2009 @ 6.39pm

Freeloader – The act of refusing to do work without valid excuses.

I do not accept ANY excuses for a capable person NOT working for NO reason whatsoever. I don’t understand the reason behind this. At first I tried reasoning, thinking maybe there’s some deeper meaning. But you know what? There isn’t. Blind people work. People with no limbs work. Can somebody please explain to me how a capable, healthy human being can bravely show their faces AND complain when something doesn’t go their way? How dare a freeloader pass judgment on anybody? What right do they have to comment on another person’s job?

I work too much. I’m over-ambitious. I work full-time, part-time, and side jobs when I’m not busy with those two. And I don’t pass judgment. I don’t comment on other people’s lives, work and spouses. I have every right to condemn idiots who freeload. But I don’t. Because it’s rude and unproductive.

You know what the problem is? Every single one of these freeloaders has enablers who (for some reason or other) feel the need to protect these freeloaders by letting them be. They pamper and nurture, and ultimately, were the creators of the freeloaders in the first place.

I WILL NOT allow any of my children to be freeloaders. I WILL NOT allow any of my friends to freeload off of me. I am glad to say that among my friends, there is a common and mutual understanding of…this time you pay, next time I pay, and another time we go dutch. And I am SO GLAD that Eddie is NOT a lazy, ignorant freeloading FOOL.

And I WILL NOT and WILL NEVER apologise for NOT condoning the actions of a freeloader. Thank you for reading.

The Many Masks...

2009-04-01T20:19:00.000-07:00

Thursday, 2 April 2009 @ 11.37am

I wear many masks. We all do. It only occurred to me when I was online last night while watching Season 7 of Charmed. I was going through Facebook, while attempting to update my blog, and was at the same time emailing a client. That was when I realised that there are many sides of me.

Daughter

I’ve always been a little withdrawn, yet at the same time, outspoken. It’s hard to explain. Being the youngest, it was difficult being heard (I know…hard to imagine since the youngest is supposed to be getting all the attention right?). I’ve always felt the need to prove myself as a daughter. And in all honesty, I’ve felt that I needed to prove that just because I’m a girl, I had to work even harder to prove that I can do better.

The mask that I wear as a daughter means that I am quite, and only speak out when I feel absolutely necessary. It also means doing anything and everything necessary to keep my parents off my back (meaning that if I don’t do anything wrong, then they can’t come after me for it right?)

Sister

This is a little trickier. Each sibling is different. And each sibling wants and deserves a different kind of respect. My sister doesn’t demand it, she’s just simply her. Growing up, I’ve always been told that that is my ‘kakak’, and ‘kakak’ deserves full respect. Since I was about four (or at least that’s the youngest age that I could remember), I always literally looked up to my sister. And as I got older, she somehow became sort of a mentor. She was the only other girl in the family and she had to fight hard as hell to get what she wanted too. I sort of see her as my guide – the do’s and don’ts of what you can and cannot do as the girl. It’s like…whatever I’m going through, she’s already been there, so I can count on her to understand how I’m feeling.

My two brothers vary in many ways. And I treat them and behave around them very differently too. It’s harder to define the ‘sister’ mask. I could have the ‘please tell me what to do’ mask on when I’m around my sister, or the ‘annoyed little sister’ mask with both my brothers.

Granddaughter

I admit it. I’m a horrible granddaughter. I don’t spend as much time as I should with Nenek. The mask I wear with Nenek includes being aloof and around long enough so she knows that I’m around and that she won’t forget me. Being with her, I realize that I can be impatient and unfriendly too. And writing this just made me realize that this is a mask I should re-think wearing.

Tante

I think this is probably my favourite mask to wear. Being an Aunty to three beautiful, smart, funny and sometimes a pain in the ass kids has been more rewarding than it has been frustrating. Of course there are days where you want to smack them, but on most days, all you want to do is love them.

Wearing the Aunty mask is fun. You have to be somewhat responsible, but you can also be fun and carefree. There are times you still have to keep them in line. But most of the time, all they want to do is be around you, and all you want to do is be around them too.

Girlfriend

This mask is not really a mask. Because I’m not wearing a mask when I’m with Eddie. In the beginning, yeah of course, there was the, I’m a girl, I like you, do I look pretty, what are you thinking? mask. But over time, and over experiences both good and bad with Eddie, I learnt to shed that mask and let him see me for me. Good, bad, beautiful, ugly… He’s seen me happy, he’s seen me sad and he’s seen me angry. He’s also seen me lose it and he’s seen the ugly PMS 24/7 side of me. He knows when I’m not being myself, and he knows when I’m not being honest. He knows when I’ve put on a mask – which I sometimes do when I feel I need to protect him from the truth. But he’s proven to me time and time again that no matter what I look like – metaphorically and physically – he will always be there for me.

Daughter'-in-law'

Ok. So I'm not legally married yet. But to Ayah, Umie, Maklong, Paklong, Pak Ngah, Mak Ngah, P.usu and M.usu, we're as good as tied. They refer to me as 'menantu Eddie'. The mask I wear around them includes being polite and respectful, and it also means that I have to be 'Malay'.

From the very start of our relationship, Eddie always calls himself as the 'orang kampung' and me as 'mat salleh'. When I go back to Teluk Intan with him, I'm not so mat salleh, although there are still elements of me there. I'm more Malay - or as Malay as I can be. I'm also more demure - no swearing, no bad words, no cursing. This is the 'good girl' mask :)

Sister'-in-law'

This is the 'Kaklong' mask. The first couple of times I went to Teluk Intan, everyone wasn't really sure about me. They weren't really sure who I was, what my story was or how come their Abanglong actually listens to me (and I'm very proud (and a little smug too) to say that while everyone else - being siblings and cousins - listen to Eddie, the only person Eddie listens to is me). The other issue was I was only 24 (at the time). His younger sister, Ijah, is two years older than me. I never classified myself as anything and I didn't mind what I was being called.

It took a couple of visits for them to accept me as Kaklong or Kakak / Akak, which all of them (even Ijah) call me. Now, this mask also entails being the 'motherly' figure to the younger ones. Or a more 'older sister' figure to the ones nearer my age. His sisters come to me for advice now, or just to chat and express concern or thoughts to me about their brother. Eddie has had a problem with his temper and most of his family know that they cannot get through to him on certain matters. With the kaklong mask (or even daughter-in-law mask for that matter), his family have gone through me to get the message across to him.

Friend

This is one of my favourite masks to wear. I have many different groups of friends, and each one requires a different mask. There’s the ‘good listener’ mask. The ‘purely fun’ mask. The ‘emo’ mask. The ‘loud, funny, joker’ mask. And there’s the ‘genuine, caring, protective’ mask.

There are certain friends who I think can take care of themselves and end up being just social, friendly friends. No emotional ties. There are friends who call upon me when they need advice, a shoulder to cry on, someone to share their joy with, or just a friend. There are friends who you know hide deep emotional scars and make joke after joke after joke to hide the truth. As a good friend, you joke with them, because you know that laughter is the best medicine for them and tapping into those scars is not something they want or need at the moment. And then there is an elite group of friends who I genuinely care for, whose families I’ve made an effort to get to know, and whom I’ve become deeply protective over. These are the friends who you share everything with. Good times with endless laughter, bad times with endless tears, and days when days just go by.

As a friend, I’ve learnt that you can’t wear an emotional mask with the joker, and that you can’t put on the genuine mask with the social friends. At times, it took painful lessons to learn that not everyone is your friend. But if you look back and see that you have even one behind you, that’s more than enough you need in a lifetime.

Account Executive

This mask requires make-up, heels, ‘proper’ outfits, a fixed smile, bargains, negotiation, manipulation, thick skin and a heart made of steel. In other words, the corporate mask. I know I’ve complained many times being an AE, but somewhere inside, I actually enjoy it. The ‘servicing’ of clients (this will always make me sound like a whore), the manipulation of the situation, the bargains and negotiation with Art Directors and designers…it sort of hardens you. It also allows you to meet a whole range of people – young and old. And a lot of the time, you tend to see the ugly side of clients. Very rarely do you meet a client who is understanding, reasonable, on time, does not have ridiculous demands and holds out her side of the bargain. Unfortunately, she was my client when I was at Trix. There are only two clients here now who are somewhat reasonable, but we’re already wrapping up their Annual Report…won’t be seeing them till next year.

Art Teacher

Another mask I enjoy wearing. I love working with children. You get to tap into your younger side and play and be nurturing. Having worked with children for a total of around two and a half years, I’ve seen so many different kinds of children. There are those you adore and get excited and delight each time they come. There are those who you cannot stand and snarl at whenever they’re there. And there are those who you have to pay extra attention to – some who are autistic, some have learning difficulties, some don’t have limbs, and some are just going through a tough time.

This mask requires a genuine smile, a warm heart, lots of hugs and lots of love. You can never be fake with a child – they’ll see right through you. This mask is also a true testament to what sort of a person you really are. Because parents will see right through you too.

There have been other teachers who just work for pocket money – they never lasted long. And the teachers who are still babies themselves – they either learnt a lot or left because they just saw themselves in the children. And there are the rest of us who have been melted by their smiles, their laughter and their tears. And have felt the protective need to continue being there, making sure that they’re ok.

CSR

I am ruthless when I sell. I know my product and I sell. I’m merciless. But…seeing that my target audience are parents to the children whom we teach, I also have to be somewhat manipulative to get what I want.

Each time I’m working as CSR, I set a target of how much I want to make that day and most of the time, I reach it or get more. I’ve only learnt that I had this skill when I became CSR a couple of months ago at Get Crafty. And I’ve never looked back since. It’s because of this mask that I put on with my customers that my boss has classified me as ‘Business Development’. Hahahahahaha…

Aggressive

2009-03-31T02:19:00.000-07:00

Tuesday, 31 March 2009 @ 5.21pm

It’s been a tough and trying couple of months. But in those months, it’s also been one of the most joyful times of my life. On the one hand, I’ve been battling some inner demons on some very crucial career choices. I contemplated throwing away stability of cash and benefits for pleasure. On the other hand, I’ve taken my personal choices to the next step. My career has been somewhat stable, and I feel ready. Eddie’s family are more than happy with me (up to the point where they contact me instead of contacting him for anything). And I feel sure of Eddie. I know. It feels right.

Making the transition of Editor to Account Executive was a little tough for me. It took a lot of time for me to accept that I was no longer an Editor. Only recently had I fully embraced the job role of an AE. And everyone else who saw my potential as an AE was right. I am damn good at my job. But… working at an advertising agency comes at a price. There’s no such thing as finishing work on time or when the sun is still up. There’s been A LOT of stress added on nowadays. Clients, bosses, designers, copywriters, art directors and admin (chasing me for cheques) during working hours, then everyone else after (and sometimes during) working hours about the engagement and the wedding. I couldn’t breathe.

I tried quitting once, but they wouldn’t let me go. I tried quitting again. They still wouldn’t let me go. But the difference this time is they asked what I wanted. I said four working days. I told them this job is taking a toll on me and working till 10pm or 2am frequently is not doing me any good. My wish was granted.

However, something struck me as strange. After they granted me my request, my big boss, L, was discussing a job with me. It was then that he also said that I am modern and aggressive. My other boss at Get Crafty has mentioned a number of times that I get the sales up because I am aggressive.

At dinner last night, I asked Eddie to describe what he thinks of me. His reply was, “You lemah lembut. Sebijik macam Mak Long. You’re caring, and loving…”

Then I asked him if he’s seen me at work. He said, yes, at Get Crafty, but not for a full day. Only for the short span of time whenever he comes visit me. He tells me that my bosses probably call me aggressive because that’s what my working attitude is like. I know what I want and what I have to do and I go for it.

And now I’m wondering…since I’ve tried quitting twice and they’re not letting me go, will they ever let me go if I really want to leave? Hmm…maybe I never really wanted to leave here. I admit the first time I quit it was done purely because I was in a very emotional state. But the second time, I was willing to take the chances. I had a back up plan. Not a solid back up plan, but one nonetheless. Will I be aggressive enough in talking them to let me go if ever I really want to leave?

It's OUR Wedding

2009-03-27T00:08:00.000-07:00

Friday, 27 March 2009 @ 3.09pm

In the last couple of weeks (or basically since we broke the news to both sets of parents), there’ve been plenty of suggestions from everyone how our wedding should be. I want it in the Masjid. Cannot. I want the reception at home. Cannot. And then there were the plans. Oh, you should have a sit down dinner. Oh, you should do it in Lake Club. Oh this, oh that…

For the first time in the last few months I can say, thank God I’ve been busy with work. It’s kept me away from home, which means it’s kept me away from hearing everyone else’s thoughts. Then last night, I had dinner at Dome while Eddie was working. He gave me a bridal magazine to read through and there was an article that gave me a brilliant idea – make this wedding your own.

If I just follow and say yes, this is not going to be my wedding. This is going to be everyone else’s ideas and input of what they think is best. Damn it. It’s our wedding. We’re getting married and we’re paying for it. When they said they can book the hall at Lake Club, I thought, ‘are you sponsoring?’ If yes, by all means, go ahead. If no, then agree with what I say.

One of the suggestions in the magazine was to write down what our favourite past times were, what we like about each other, what inspires us to be a couple, what we like about us as a couple. What we write from the list should be an inspiration to give ideas on how to make this wedding our own.

Eddie was a little confused when I asked him to write his side of the story. But after much argument and much debate, this is what he came up with:

What do I like about Anna R****?

- so sweet
- caring
- full of love
- understanding
- pandai menyesuaikan diri
- supportive
- motivator
- a planner

What do I like about our relationship?

- so matching
- each of us want the best in our life
- want to change our life (for good)
- satu kepala!!!
- susah and senang sekali
- being together for every moment

Favourite memories?

- tengok wayang
- first date
- first time taking Anna back to my family house at Perak
- following me to rumah Pak Amat (Baiti’s wedding)
- celebrate Anna’s birthday for the first time at Starbucks

Things in common?

- change lifestyle (from bad to good)
- want to learn something new and good
- respect elders
- humble and grateful

In my list, I wrote down things like, we both like pasta, we both appreciate art and both work hard. I had no idea that he thought these things. You always assume that a man never remembers things, or takes things for granted.

I always thought that Malay weddings were the standard akad nikah, sanding and done. But this is OUR wedding. And since Eddie always says to me, “You buat Yang, I follow je.” Then we’re going to do it MY way. Yes, I am grateful and happy that my family want to help… but maybe if they don’t reject every single request that I have, then maybe I might start listening to them. After all, it’s going to be my day. Oh, and Eddie of course :)

Beauty is Pain

2009-03-24T03:59:00.000-07:00

Tuesday, 24 March 2009 @ 7pm

We’re in the car. Eddie’s driving me to my 9pm meeting.

Eddie: Kaki I sakit la Yang.

Anna: Why?

E: (he tells me why)

A: Eleh…pasal tu pun sakit? Have you tried wearing heels? All day long? Running around to meetings?

E: No la… tapi apa you selalu cakap? Beauty apa?

A (smiling): Beauty is pain?

E: Ha! Beauty is pain!

Thank you and Bye bye

2009-03-24T01:47:00.001-07:00

Tuesday, 24 March 2009 @ 4.48pm

It was 6pm when I arrived my client’s office. Eddie dropped me off and circled the block. I told him it was going to be a quick drop off. My client had other ideas. She pulled a chair for me, placed it next to her, and proceeded to go through the changes word for word, page by page. It was for a 56-page annual report.

When I was done, it was past 8pm. I went back into office, knowing I had other jobs to settle. But I had another meeting at 9pm. It was at 10.30pm that I finally got to sit and relax a bit. But my mind was already filled with worry. My days were already planned out for the next year and a half (and no, I’m not exaggerating). Meetings, photo shoots, deadlines…

I’m not advertising material. This is the sort of stress I don’t want to handle. Late nights are not worth it. Not for something I’m miserable in. I’m tired, I’m overworked, and it’s all just from this one job.

Tonight, I’ll be going home to shower and change. Then it’s back to the office to pull an all-nighter. And when time allows, I’ll rush home to beautify my appearance for the clients, where the meeting has been set at 11am.

No, I won’t be home tonight. And no, I won’t be doing this for much longer either.

Oh my god...I'm getting engaged...

2009-03-15T11:08:00.000-07:00

Monday, 16 March 2009 @ 2.35am

There have been a couple of recent developments. I tried to quit my job, but was refused and now am deciding what I'll do once I'm given the confirmation letter. My brother told me he's getting married this year. And I finally had the courage to tell my parents I'm getting engaged this year.

The last two weeks has been a rollercoaster ride of emotions for me. I've been upset and confused about work. Then a little relieved and anxious after trying to quit. Then I was nervous about talking to my parents about Eddie's family coming to ask for my hand in marriage. Then extremely pleased and happy that they're ok and supportive of it. Then busy and slightly panicked once the fear has settled down and reality has kicked back in.

I've been planning for my engagement for a couple of weeks now. Writing down a list of what to buy and budgeting for it. Then researching price differences and going from shop to shop to find what perfume, shoes, handbag, etc. to buy. This was all done in secret, while fearing an argument of wanting to get married.

After my parents ok-ed it, we went into full mode. Before this, we were being careful and not really doing anything 'obvious' that would give it away to my family. Now...I'm still trying to believe the idea that first, I'm getting engaged. And second, that I have my family's support. (Oh. My. God.)

In the last two days, things have settled a little... and that's when I started panicking. There's SO MUCH to do before the engagement in July! I need to buy a new bed. I need to get my dress done. I need to find the best place to get beautifully-decorated cupcakes done. I need to FIND TIME to buy all the hantaran items. Oh my god... just listing it down...

Today, I made the effort to buy some bridal magazines to get ideas of what kind of dress I want. (Oh my god... I'm getting engaged...) And then made the extra effort to drag Martha and Frank with me after work to a bridal shop to survey what items need to be bought and when. (At least I managed to get some ribbon samples of what I want to decorate my hantaran items).

Then as I was flipping through the magazines, I realised that I have to go get my dress done NOW if I want to make sure that there's no delays or setbacks before July. (Oh my god...I'm getting engaged...) And as I continued flipping, I had NO IDEA what I wanted. There's SO MANY to choose from and there's SO LITTLE time! (At least I've made certain what colour I want for my engagement. *Pause* Oh my god...)

There were around twenty-five thousand things going through my head earlier - the poster I was supposed to be editing, all the engagement and future wedding plans, the meetings that are lined up for me tomorrow at work...

I couldn't concentrate. So I thought...Facebook. I scrolled down my page and saw a picture of Eddie and baby Shira. That made me smile and calmed me down immediately.

When I was back in Teluk Intan with him for Ijah's engagement (yes, everyone really is getting married), I remember I was putting make-up on in the back room when Eddie's aunty asked me to bring my camera out to the living room. Eddie was sitting on the couch with baby Shira cuddling up to him. (She doesn't like just anybody. If she doesn't want you, she'd scream and hit you.) I saw that picture that I took of him and baby Shira and started to relax. Seeing him so happy holding I don't know whose baby just made me feel calm and even more confident that I want to marry him.

I remember after I took that photo, I was sitting in a sea of women, young and old, fretting over last minute hantaran to be wrapped in the bride's room. Ijah was sitting on the bed getting her make-up done when all of a sudden Shira, this tiny two-year-old, walked into the room holding onto two of Eddie's fingers. She was taking him for a walk. Eddie was bent over, happy to follow her orders. This tiny little girl was taking this giant of a man (when compared to her) for a walk around the house. And that memory just makes me smile. Even at that moment when I was living it, suddenly all the noise around me faded and the focus was on Eddie's huge smile as baby Shira took tiny steps into the room :)

I've put that picture of Eddie and Shira as my wallpaper on my laptop. It makes me calm. It's hard to explain. But maybe you understand what I mean. I dunno. I can't sleep...just means it's time to start planning again (Oh my god... I'm getting engaged...)

:):):):)

Frank

2009-03-11T22:59:00.001-07:00

Thursday, 12 March 2009 @ 2.11pm

I met with my insurance agent last night, and after having signed the necessary documents, we just took the time out to chit chat. Somewhere along the lines of the conversation, she mentioned that she called up the list of names I gave her for her to try and sell insurance to. I mentioned that some don't have a steady job yet. And she said, "ya...one of them is still studying right?"

I knew immediately who she was referring to. So I said, "yeah. And he wants to be an actor, so it's not steady income." And then she laughed! She giggled and said, "he wants to be an actor?" I was immediately offended on Frank's behalf, but to be polite just said, "yeah.. I know..."

That was when it hit me. People who choose to follow their passions are laughed at, smirked, sniggered and teased. All because it's not steady and secure. It seems foolish to follow a dream. These people don't always get the kind of support that they need from a lot of people. But if they really believe in it, they are determined enough to just go for it.

Yes, Frank is struggling a bit. It happens with any of us who are trying to follow a "silly" dream. But he makes do with what he has and he makes the best out of it. I just really hope that I have been there enough to give him the support he needs.

I can understand him better now. Why he is willing to volunteer some time in community theatre (and for those of you who haven't caught on... I used the word 'volunteer', meaning pay-less). No, it may not be the 'smart' move, but it's a decision he made and a decision that he's stuck with and believes will make him the somebody he wants to be someday.

I'm kind of in your shoes now, Frank. So if I haven't given you much support in the past, know that I will from here on out.

My Problem

2009-03-10T19:59:00.000-07:00

Wednesday, 11 March 2009 @ 10.59am

You know what I realised? This doesn't have to be a major issue. It's MY problem. Why is other people are more upset than I am at the moment? This is my decision to make and yes, I've pondered through all the posibilities. How is it going to affect you? Why are you more upset than me? This is tough enough on me. Let alone having to voice it out.

If it's a mistake, let it be mine to make. How else am I going to learn? I'm still young right? So watch me grow.

Happiness = impracticality. Misery = money.

2009-03-10T09:26:00.001-07:00

Wednesday, 11 March @ 12.45am

Are you the one there every day?
Are you the one who has to face the bullshit everyday?
Are you the one who has to lie everyday?
Are you the one who sometimes goes into the bathroom just to cry?
Are you the one who feels useless and unproductive?

No, I may not have worked as long as you have.
No, I may not have as much life experience as you have.
No, I may not be as 'professional' as you want me to be.

But...
When are you going to LISTEN?
When are you going to HEAR?
When are you going to UNDERSTAND?

I'm trying the best that I can.
I'm working as hard as I can.

I would like for you to LEARN to TRUST me.
I would like for you to LEARN to TRY and SUPPORT my decisions.

But...

I know you never will.
I know you think I'm childish.
I know you think I'm young.
I know you think I'm fresh and raw.
I know you think I'm too emotional.

But...

Are you the one who stays till late?
Are you the one who goes into office at 1.30am, leaves at 3am and then has to go for a meeting across town at 9am?
Are you the one who has to stay late night after night?
Are you the one who has to sell and lie?
Are you the one who feels dirty when you come home?
Are you the one who scrubs and cries in the shower hoping to feel 'clean'?

What's the point?

Things never change.

It's all so predictable.

Don't you worry. I won't burden you for long. I'll work three jobs if I have to. I won't sleep if that's what it takes.

Tell me it's wrong to follow my heart.
Tell me I'm dumb for doing something to 'please'.
Tell me again I'm not being practical.

I don't understand.
I don't get it.

You would rather have me stay miserable.
You would rather have me lie.
You would rather allow me to be unhappy...
...because you don't think it's not important.

And that's the problem.

That's always been the problem.

Put your feelings aside.
Work comes first.
Think about the principles.
Use your head. Not your heart.

Thanks for not supporting me again.
Thanks for making me feel alone.
Thanks for assuming and then not believing what I have to say.
Thanks for punishing me for having any sort of feelings.
Thanks for making it that much more difficult.

I've never had your support anyway...

Apa ni?

2009-03-10T05:42:00.000-07:00

Tuesday, 10 March 2009 @ 8.43pm

I just got off the phone with our Creative Group Head, V. I was clearing up some issues on one of the jobs I'm handling. And then she says, "oh, while I have you on the phone... I just wanted to tell you what a good job you've been doing on (lists down my jobs and clients). I just wanted to give you some encouragement and tell you that you've been handling it all really close and well. Keep it up girl!"

Aiyo...apa ni? Is it some sort of sign? Or did N call V? Or what? Why why why? Why is it when you've made up your mind and ready to go... so many things try to change your mind and keep you there. There's a voice in my head telling me...hey..if you stay, then you won't have to worry about money. Then the other voice goes, yes, but you're miserable.

What to do? What to do? What to do?

To Stay or To Go...That is The Question

2009-03-10T04:45:00.000-07:00

Tuesday, 10 March 2009 @ 7.45pm

Half an hour ago, I just tried to quit my job. The letter was prepared, printed, signed and folded. My boss, N, asked me to come and help her with something. I thought, perfect timing! I took the letter, hid it behind my back and stood next to her while looking at her computer. What happened next truly surprised me:

A: "N*****, I don't think I can stay here any longer."

N (with a completely horrified look on her face): "Why?!?"

A: "I just don't feel right for the job."

N: "But you've been so good at it."

A: "I know I can do the job. It just... doesn't feel right. I don't feel very productive here. I used to give 150% at my last job. Here...I feel like half of me is gone already."

N: "But there's so much more for you to do here. Why? Do you feel like you've lost control?"

A: "Yes. I used to be involved every step of the way. From the brief, to the brainstorming, to the finished product. Here, after I brief...I get the almost finished product. I've missed those steps. I just don't feel very productive."

N goes on to explain to me that there's so much more for me to do here. And that she's got so much more in store for me. She has already planned for me to take on more jobs and this and that. She keeps asking me why. I keep telling her I'm not productive. And that I'm only giving 70%. She tells me I'm crazy. While laughing, says, "what kind of species do I have here? Got copywriter and designer but still want to do the job!"

I'm in a dilemma. I've already told A and my boss at Get Crafty that I plan to quit and that I'll join full-time. A and my boss had a meeting today about my position. Of course, salary would be a lot less then what I'm getting here. But that begs the question: is happiness more important than money? Or should money dictate your happiness?

I don't know what to do. It'll definitely be easier to stay if I think about it. I'll be able to pay for my car, phone, insurance, credit card, parking and petrol and still have money left over. If I worked at Get Crafty, I'd struggle a bit, but I won't need to worry about parking or petrol. I won't even need to drive if I don't want to. And I won't be using my phone so much.

But...if I really plan to get married...I'd need that extra cash. It will definitely come in handy. Eddie and I put our salary together every month now and we're happy bunnies with our joint amount. If I quit...we'll still be ok... just not as happy as we would be if I stayed.

Sigh. What to do? What to do? What to do?

Is it really worth it?

2009-03-05T18:19:00.000-08:00

Friday, 6 March 2009 @ 10.20am

The Creative Group Head here, V, sometimes pulls me aside for a chat. She wants to know how I’m doing. And ask whether I’ve learnt anything. She also asks me if I’ve ‘grown at Mega’. The first two times she asked me, I said that I’m learning and I’m still trying to get the hang of things. But that’s because the first two times she asked me, I ‘d only been working for a few weeks and about a month and a half respectively.

Two days ago, V and I were sitting in a client’s waiting room preparing for a presentation. And she asked me again, “Anna, do you think you’ve grown?” Without thinking, I answered, “no”. Before she could continue, L and N had walked in. She looked at me and said in a hush tone, “Come and talk to me if you need to.”

I’ve been thinking a lot about my aspects at this job. And no, I haven’t grown. And I don’t think I have room to grow. I came and I died here. When I was at Trix, I started off a little shaky, which is understandable since it was my very first job. But once I got the hang of things, I was allowed to try new things. So I did. I challenged designers with designs. I brainstormed with the Art Director on different designs and possibilities and made sure that there were always the best options. I learned that designers get very defensive over their work and you should never implicate that their work is a waste of time. I learnt to handle different kinds of designers. There was the one who would take days to finish a few spreads, but when he did, it turned out awesome. And the one who would take days to amend a few words, and that was just to piss me off. But I learnt how to pujuk her into doing work for me. And there was the one whose emotions would take over her perspective (you always knew when it was her time of month).

At Trix, I was hired as an Editor but I learnt to do more than that. I learned to negotiate with designers. I learned to handle clients. So much so that my bosses there saw there was no need to have an AE. I would take over that role. And I did it well. I was so happy there. And I felt so productive. I always had ideas and my bosses always backed me up. I could always go and talk to them whenever I had a problem. And if I was ever swamped with work, they would help me by allowing me to delegate work.

Here…there’s no room to grow. No place to be. I’m just there. At Trix, I felt that I did the best that I could and more. I always gave 110%. I was always passionate over every single article or image or account I was handling. Here…I try to do something creatively, and I’m brushed off. I’m just an AE here. That’s it. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Maybe I’m trying to find more reasons to justify why I’m leaving. Or maybe I just miss Trix. I dunno. What I do know is…I really cannot make it here anymore. I’m trying to find reason to stay. But there aren’t any. Maybe one. Money. But is money really worth the misery?

I've made up my mind

2009-03-04T22:18:00.000-08:00

Thursday, 5 March 2009 @ 2.19pm

I’m good at what I do. But this is not who I am. I’m contemplating leaving. But I have to stay. But is the money really worth it anymore? I cannot continue with this job anymore. I cannot do it. Not just for the sake of the money. But I have payments to make. Commitments that requires and justifies my reasons for staying.

I’m not giving it my all. I’m upset and unhappy. I’m don’t work ethically anymore. I’m just working so that at the end of the month, I get the cash to pay the bills. It’s not worth it. The stress, the clients, the chasing for quotations. I’ve been dumbed down.

I’m a useless piece of nothing here. And I cannot continue lying to myself. This morning my client asked me, ‘what’s your role? Are you in creative? Or a writer? Or accounts? What role do you play?’ I answer, ‘servicing’.

Servicing. That’s what I’ve been dumbed down to. I’m now in servicing. I service clients. I’m not worth creative input. Nor am I worth a say for the writers. I’m just there to make sure that everyone is in line with each other. The link between designers and writers, and client and company.

I am so unhappy. I’m depressed. And I think my bosses know. I’m not working as hard as I should. I’m just doing what I have to do so they’ll shut up. I’m finding every excuse not to come in to work.

I’m selling my soul. I’m being abused by my clients. Abused by my bosses. Abused by my peers. All because I’m not working ethically. All because I’m not happy. All because of the job. I’m not an AE. I can do the job. I can ‘service’ clients (I sound like a whore). But I’m miserable.

I watched House a few weeks ago. The episode was about this actor who was playing a doctor on a soap opera. He was brought in as a ‘real life’ patient because there was some problem or rather with him. The doctors who were administering him were commenting on what a cool job he had as an actor. But the actor said he was miserable because at the end of the day, he’ll go home feeling empty. And that the doctors who were administering him were the only ones who should feel good for themselves because they were doing something good.

I understand how the actor feels. I understand his misery. It doesn’t matter how much you get paid. It just matters that you’re doing something worth a damn. I’m not doing anything worth a damn. I’m a ‘link’. That’s all. I’m only needed if…a designer needs help looking for images, or if a client calls to comment, or if a client has a new job to brief me, or if I have to deliver a CD or colour proof. The rest of the time, I’m looking through yesterday’s newspapers to file any adverts worth keeping. Or chasing designers so I can email over the visual. Or chasing my boss to issue a quotation.

I cannot do this anymore. I’m at the end of my rope. Today, I’m supposed to be servicing three clients (who are sitting in the conference room arguing with each other before finding reason to argue with me or my colleagues). Of the three, one was the more obnoxious, while one was the big brother to the obnoxious (who kept encouraging the little fucker to continue being obnoxious – hey asshole, just because you’ve been spoiled your whole life doesn’t mean that you can continue your bratty behaviour now). And the final one was the mediator. He didn’t want to upset his colleagues (who sign his pay cheque), but he also understood where we were coming from and were trying to cool down the situation.

From 9.30am, I sat and listened and argued. And it was then that I realised that they don’t need me. Because I’m not interested. I’m wasting the company’s money. Someone else could be doing a better job than me.

When I first started, I thought that I just need to start getting used to it. Then I got used to it. And that’s when I realised that I’m not built for this job. I was hired because I can handle people and negotiate and sell. But when I started it, I realised that these are not the skills that I want to pursue. These skills are good to have and should never be forgotten. But I don’t want to just ‘service’. I don’t want to just help out. I want to be productive.

Since November 2008, I haven’t been very productive. I haven’t done anything worth a damn. And I feel useless. I’ve been putting in all my efforts as CSR at Get Crafty. So much so that my boss there wants me to write a manual to train other CSRs.

I’ve decided…I’m going to quit. It may not be a very smart move. But I’m calculating my finances now. I may not and probably will not get as much money as I am now. But I’d take that any day. I would rather feel productive and satisfied rather than useless and miserable.

I know this is going to cause some problems. I know money is going to be very tight. I know I’m not going to get a lot of support from many people. Especially my father. But I will do whatever it takes so I don’t feel like a miserable, useless, effortless nobody. Even if that means I have to become the unfriendly daughter/sister and stay in my room all the time. Or working at three part-time jobs. I’ve made up my mind. And I’m going to leave.

Strong again

2009-02-25T02:38:00.000-08:00

Wednesday, 25 February 2009 @ 6.56pm

Anna R**** needs to be strong again. That's the status on my Facebook and that's been my motto since last Saturday.

Lily has been acting up for a few months now. Her brakes have been giving me problems and it takes me a while to start the engine. There was actually a time when I was stranded at the ends of Shah Alam that she decided not to start at all. Oh, and she was over 3,000km over her service. I brought her in on Saturday morning before rushing off to work.

I only got a call at 3pm. It went something like this:

Service Dude (I forgot his name): "Hi Ms Anna, I have some bad news for you."

Anna (in the midst of children's shrieks of laughter and protest against having to dry their artwork and their teachers either laughing at or with them): "Yes?"

SD: "We did a check up on your car and found that we need to change your brake pads. The air filter needs to be replaced and your spark plug is out."

My heart starts beating faster. I go outside and sit on the bench.

A: "Is it necessary to change everything?" Duh! Brake pads? Spark plug?

He goes on explaining to me the importance of having brakes and spark plug. I felt so blonde at that moment.

SD: "So...the total will be around RM800 or RM900. Plus service."

My heart drops and I cannot breathe.

A: "What? How am I going to pay for that? Anymore good news you have for me?"

The dude laughs nervously. But I brush it off as a joke and hung up. I continued sitting on the bench and felt like I was having a panic attack. I sms Papa. I couldn't pay for it. No way I could afford that. Then I sms Eddie. He called immediately.

E: "Yang, kenapa you selalu suka membazir duit? Kat tempat I tak sampai RM900."

I want to argue with him. Tell him that he should have sent the car like he said he was going to instead of always saying, "nantilah." But I chose to hang up. I felt the panic. I was pacing from the washroom to the front. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't breathe. So I went into the store room, huddled in the corner and cried.

Sunday evening, I was sneezing a lot and generally started feeling like crap. I predicted that I'd have a fever on Tuesday. Monday morning, I woke up with a fever.

In the afternoon, I waited an hour and a half in the clinic waiting room. I had to bear with the sunlight hurting my eyes and my head. The noise from the sick children and their parents. And the endless idiots who kept pushing the door when it clearly says pull. I got fed up and left.

Later in the evening, Eddie calls and says he's finishing work at 7.30pm. I say great! You can accompany me to the doctor. He says...eerr... yeah... and a whole bunch of excuses come out. I say forget it and hung up.

At 8pm, I drove myself to the doctor, feeling worse than ever. I sat like a zombie and waited. When I saw the doctor, he gave me two days off. I went home, ate, took my medicine and slept.

I remember picking Eddie up to take him to the doctor. Packing him food and sending him straight back. All this was taken in stride with his grumpy attitude. But hey...who wouldn't do that for the person they cared about?

Yesterday, I decided that I've allowed myself to become weak. I used to be strong. Inside and out. Now I'm becoming too dependent. Fuck that. It's time to go back to what I used to be. Heart made of stone.

Took Me Long Enough...

2009-02-20T02:11:00.000-08:00

Friday, 20 February 2009 @ 6.12pm

It took me three months and three weeks to finally realise that I am a good AE. And that I’m good at my job. And you know what? I’m actually beginning to enjoy it.

I remember two days before my last day at Trix, Mr L called me to his room to have a ‘goodbye chat’. He started by asking which company I’ll be going to and whether I’ll be a copywriter. I told him the company name and said, “Actually, I’m going to be an AE.” He seemed almost happier that I said I’ll be an AE. Then he told me that I’ll be a good one. At that moment, I didn’t really think so…

Yesterday, I started the day by going to the very outskirts of Shah Alam to meet a client. (Oh yeah…I reached a little earlier so I managed to have a roti telur and Nescafe tarik. When I was about to leave, I tried to turn on the engine, but it died. So I panicked. But…that’s a whole other story…just thought I’d sneakily slip it in here. Don’t worry… there’s gonna be another entry for that story).

That meeting lasted till lunch time. Then I had lunch with my bosses and the copywriter. Then rushed all the way back to the heart of KL to get a briefing on an Annual Report by another client. Yesterday, my first step into the office was at 5.43pm. Even then, I still had two job briefs to issue, a production timeline to amend and another brochure (and the Art Director handling it) that needed my dire attention.

Yesterday, I remember I was emailing a prospective client when it hit me. I do enjoy being an AE. I do like what I’m doing. I am good at my job. I think I despised it so much at the beginning because of the rage and shame of being fired as a copywriter (thank God they commented on how ‘proper’ I was during the interview). But now…I’ve learnt and grown to like (not love…yet) what I’m doing. It’s not that bad after all.

A Series of Dialogues

2009-02-17T23:13:00.000-08:00

Wednesday, 18 February 2009 @ 3.14pm

On the phone – Zaidi and Anna

Zaidi: Yang, Ayah dah set date merisik.

Anna (trying to hide delight, answers nonchalantly): When?

Z: Your birthday.

A clinic – patient and a nurse

Anna: Kat sini boleh buat rubella injection tak?

Kak Yati (not looking at me as she’s filling out my prescription bottle): Boleh… (gets suspicious and looks at me) kenapa? Anna nak kahwin ke?

A: Insyallah… tahun depan.

KY (whooping with delight now): yer ke? Dengan orang mana? Anak Datuk jugak ke?

A: Tak der lah. Orang kampung. Dari Teluk Intan.

KY: Oh…bagus la macam tu. Anna kan orang ‘berada’. Bagus jugak la Anna tak memilih.

A: Bagi saya, dia mesti bekerja keras dan beragama. Tak kira kalau anak Datuk ke tak…

KY: Bagus la tu…nanti jangan lupa jemput tau…dia mesti baik kan?

A: Dia memang baik.

KY: Dengar-dengar, banyak orang Teluk Intan handsome.

A (smiling and giggling): Memanglah…

On the phone – Zaidi and Anna

My handphone rings. I’m trying to balance my dinner on my lap while pausing the episode of Desperate Housewives that I was watching. On the caller ID, it said, ‘Dome Pavilion’.

Zaidi: Hi yang!

Anna: Hi…

Z: Where are you?

A: At home.

Z: Did you get the good news from Imah or Ijah?

A: No. Why?

Z: I just spoke to Imah…and she’s pregnant (sounds all excited)… dah dalam tujuh minggu. Tapi belum stabil. Morning sickness dia teruk. Selalu muntah…

A: Really? Wow!...Are you happy?

Z: Yes! Yes! Nanti call her and talk to her k?

A: Ok.

Z: Ok la yang. I nak kena sambung kerja ni. Take care. Muah. Love you.

A: Love you too. Bye. (Hung up and continued watching Desperate Housewives).

My Future: I Want...

2009-02-03T23:52:00.000-08:00

Wednesday, 4 February 2009 @ 3.53pm

I want to be a writer again
I aspire to work and be known again as an editor or a writer.

I want to live in Setiawangsa
I spend so many nights driving Afa or Suri home. I love the area. I love the community.

I want to find a way to get an apartment or a house in Setiawangsa before I turn 26
And believe me, I ALWAYS get what I want.

I want my long hair to grow back
I miss my hair going down my back, and being able to have a different hairstyle whenever I felt like it.

I want Eddie to start believing that he is good enough for me.
You are Sayang.

I want to be able to find a job that I look forward to again.
I admit it. I miss Trix.

I want to have children.
Two boys and a girl. Or anything that I will hopefully one day be blessed with :)

I want to learn how to bake bread.
Without it falling flat, or burning, or being hard as rock…you get the picture.

I want to learn how to be more patient.
Friends say I’m patient. So do my boss and colleagues (especially those at Get Crafty). But I snap too easily at those who are closest to me, especially my family.

I want to always have that intense eye contact I have with Eddie.
It’s a bond that is shared between just us.

I want to be a good Muslim.
And I want my children to learn, love and respect their religion too.

I want to be a good mother.
And I think that I will be.

I want to be the one that people go to when they need help.
I hope that those few (and you know who you are) will depend on me just as I depend on them too.

I want to always smile and laugh, be loud and outspoken, confident and independent.
And I think I will be.

My Present: I Am...

2009-02-03T23:29:00.000-08:00

Wednesday, 4 February 2009 @ 3.30pm

I am loud and outspoken
I think it’s better to be truthful then to cover with lies, which just complicates everything.

I am strong and confident
It took me a few years but I think I gained a lot of strength going through all the hardships of living in Melbourne alone, having to travel alone, working for the first time, etc.

I am never short of friends
It started with working at Get Crafty. When I first moved back to KL, I was awfully shy. But working with children, you tend to lower your inhibitions and get louder as the days go by. I ended up making friends wherever I went instead :)

I am happy and content
Yes, I’m getting soppy. I met someone. I think I’m finally ok. And no, I’m not rushing things. If anything, I think I’m being too responsible.

I am too hard-working
Eddie and Falliq call me a workaholic. But I don’t feel that way. I just keep saying, ‘why spend money when you can make money?’

I am a dainty lady
I just realised that I am a lady. Not to the extent where I’m a ‘girly’ lady and want everything pink (I prefer lilac) but I now know that I am extremely feminine. People tend to ‘behave’ themselves whenever they’re around me or think I’m watching.

I am in love with shoes
Mary janes are my favourites. And one-inch heels are NOT heels.

I am diligent and may have a slight case of OCD
Enough said.

I am in love with Zaidi
My baby. Big belly. Huge smile. Loud laugh. Kindest heart. Thoughtful and caring. Responsible and hard-working (and he calls me a workaholic!). Funny. Smart. Tall :) And he picks me up when he hugs me.

My Past: I Used to...

2009-02-03T03:46:00.000-08:00

Tuesday, 3 February 2009 @ 7.47pm

I used to be a quiet introvert who would not dare to utter a single word
Once during my first few months in Melbourne, I remember standing outside the classroom with a couple of my classmates waiting for the other class to finish - one of my classmates said to me, "don't just stand there like a fly on the wall. Say something."

I used to be lonely...
When I was in Melbourne, I didn't have many friends. I had a small group of three and I loved and cherised all our moments together

I used to suffer panic attacks
It started at the end of high school and during the first few years of uni. I was confused and didn't have proper guidance. I felt like I was just dumped in Melbourne (which actually turned out to be a good thing)

I used to take public transport everywhere
Only in Melbourne of course. I can't even go from my car to the front entrance in KL without being howled at. Idiots.

I used to be a victim of racism
There are plenty of examples that I can give you that has happened to me. Spat on, verbally attacked, things thrown at me... but I don't (and I didn't) want to upset people who care about me. So I choose to keep these awful memories to myself.

I used to be so extremely unhappy in my first year alone at Melbourne that I ate ice cream and cried every night
When I entered MIBT, things changed and I discovered that crying gets you nowhere.

I used to study day and night to get my Diploma
And I did and it was sweet.

I used to study and write and brainstorm and discuss and argue with fellow classmates and even my lecturers to get my Degree
And when it was graduation, I finally understood why people feel so overwhelmed and relieved.

I used to think I was a dark, ugly, horrible-looking child.
Then I decided to make the best with what I had and I think I turned out quite alright ;P

I used to take the bus to Sydney to see someone.
And there were so many experiences during each and every single ride that I don't regret one bit.

I used to be terrified of driving.
Now I think I'm one of those drivers that other L and P students are terrified of.

I used to like Backstreet Boys.
Yes, I admit. I was a HUGE fan. I'm not ashamed to own up to it anymore.

I used to think that I'd grow up to be a teacher.
And I sort of did. Part time anyway :)

I used to think I was wasting my time when I learned how to converse with my father's friends, associates and staff.
But now, because of that practice, I'm making a living out of handling different types of people.

I Choose Life

2009-01-27T19:49:00.000-08:00

Wednesday, 28 January 2009 @ 11.49am

Life's a rollercoaster ride right? There are ups and downs and you can't really control it once you're going through it now can you?

Friday, 23 January 2009

9.30am

I swiped my access card to open the office door. My phone is ringing in my handbag. Pushing the door open while fumbling for my phone, I balance my breakfast in my other hand. It's Eddie.

E: "Yang, kita kena balik kampung. Atuk dah meninggal."

11am

I'm sitting in the car at the back of Pavilion. I'd gone home to change into my baju kurung and packed extra clothes. I'd already been here for fifteen minutes. Eddie had to wait till another Assistant Manager can come in to cover him.

2pm

We reached the masjid near his parents house in Teluk Intan just as all the men were walking out. Friday prayers had just finished. We saw the van at the entrance of the masjid waiting to transport Atuk's body. Eddie ran out. I drove Lily back to his home. Umie was sitting at the front with other relatives. A look of sadness and gladness came over her when she saw me walking towards the house.

3pm

I reached the graveyard with Eddie's three sisters. Eddie, Ayah, Paklong and Pak Mamat were already there. Before the burial, everyone was given one last chance to say goodbye. After Eddie's turn, I saw him quickly walk away, wiping the tears from his eyes.

7.30pm

Eddie's sister and I got carried away chit chatting in the room that we didn't realise everyone else was already gathered outside to pray. We quickly took turns taking our air sembahyang and joined them. Eddie stood in front of me. This was the first time we'd prayed together.

Saturday, 24 January 2009

It was our one-year anniversary. Ijah and I were still sleeping in the back room at 8am when Eddie opened the door and said, "anak dara ni dah melampau tidur! Ha... kalau ikut style Ayah... tutup kipas..." and he switched off the fan and left laughing. I got up first to shower while Ijah continued rolling around in bed.

After breakfast, we went to Sungai Besar. Eddie, myself, and all five of his siblings (including his sister's husband) were there to look for fabric and baju kurung/kebaya. Eddie and I had originally planned on dinner at the restaurant where we met to celebrate our anniversary. But under the circumstances, we spent the day with his family instead and I wouldn't have wanted it any other way either :)

26 January 2009

Gong xi fa cai. The first day of Chinese New Year was also the first time in two years that Get Crafty was closed. This also meant that this was the first time that we were all able to gather in the day time outside of Great Eastern Mall! When we first found out that we would be closing, I suggested a picnic and kite flying, which is exactly what we did!

The grass was green and the blue sky was endless. All the Get Crafty crew had gathered, each bringing an item to share for our 'potluck picnic'. The only thing missing for me was Eddie, who had to go back to Teluk Intan for the day.

I had never flown a kite, but had always wondered how it was done. Turns out... wasn't so hard after all. Just feeling the wind against my skin and looking up at the clear blue sky as my Ultraman/Power Ranger kite (ahahahah) blew against the wind made me smile. Laughter and shrieks of delight accompanied us that day as none of us had ever flown a kite.

Zaza arrived an hour and a half later with Am and her baby python, Violet. She'd brought one of her other snakes before to Get Crafty. But it was a thin and tiny little fella that I didn't have the guts to even touch. Feeling liberated, I quickly put my kite aside and said, "I wanna hold it! I wanna hold it!" Screaming in absolute fear as Violet slithered against my hands, I managed to take one nice photo where I wasn't screaming for my life.

Returning back to our spot where our drinks and leftover food awaited us, I immediately started jumping and declaring to the whole group, "Nak naik train! Nak naik train!" It was actually a 'bus' that would take us on a half-hour ride around the whole park. Iqbal was smiling as he saw me jump like a little kid. I grabbed his arm and led him to the very front of the 'train'. All aboard! All 12 of us sat and enjoyed the train ride :)

I never saw myself as someone who'd enjoy kampung life. Or someone who'd enjoy being out in the sun flying a kite and running along the park. I always had this perception that I'm a primp little princess who needs her shaded areas and air-conditioned areas and cool drinks and proper seats and luxurious meals.

I discovered that what I want is the simple things in life. I want to relax on my days off work. I wanna play in the sun. I wanna get dirty in the mud and sit on the ground as we pray for arwah Atuk. I wanna enjoy the sun instead of spending hours in the shaded air-conditioned areas. And I want open air places that's not surrounded by high-rise buildings.

This doesn't mean that I want to abandon the city and move to the kampung. This means that when I do get the rare day off... I wanna enjoy it in the sun. I wanna play like a kid and pretend I'm a tourist in my own country. Because frankly, I didn't feel like I was in KL when I was playing in that park.

I realised something too. After fun in the sun, we went to Sunway Pyramid to go bowling. Reaching there, I immediately lost interest. I didn't like the crowd. I didn't like the covered area when I had just experienced hours in the sun (I already spend hours everyday in an office...why would I want to spend many more hours in a closed-up, windowless area on my day off?).

I decided that I want to spend my time outdoors. I want to enjoy and appreciate the other parts of the city I live in and explore whatever else it has to offer me. When I have children, I want to take them outside. I want to go for picnics. I want to see them playing kites. I want them to enjoy the sun too. I don't want them to spend their days in a shopping mall whenever they have a school holiday. I don't want them to be cooped up at home just watching TV. I want them to always try something new. To learn to enjoy the simple things in life. And to spend their days laughing. I want them to choose life.

Jealous

2009-01-19T02:39:00.000-08:00

Monday, 19 January 2009 @ 6.39pm

I was jealous the other day. No, not because of Eddie and another woman or anything like that. It was a different kind of jealousy. A sort of jealousy I’d never experienced. A sort of jealousy that I’d only seen from single friends.

Eddie and I had gone to dinner with his sister and her future husband. They’re getting engaged in March and planning to get married in either June or December. When we were discussing wedding dates and themes and colours, I started to feel something unfamiliar to me. I became a little quiet and withdrawn then. I wasn’t really sure why I was feeling that way yet until I said, “At my wedding, the theme will be lilac and silver.” I’d spoken to Eddie about all of this before, so he wasn’t surprised. But in a weird way, I sort of felt surprised once I’d said it out loud to someone other than Eddie.

Eddie’s sister suggested we go catch a late movie or sing karaoke. But I declined. Saying I was tired and wanted to go home. On the drive back home, I was quiet. Eddie knew something was wrong. He was probing for answers. I just said, “nothing.” Upon nearly reaching our destination, I was playing with his hand when we were stopped at a traffic light and I finally confessed.

A: “I’m jealous.”

E: “Why?”

A: “I don’t wanna tell you.”

E: (silence for a few seconds before his face changes to sympathy) “Yang, benda-benda macam ni we cannot rush. Sekarang ni kita takde duit. Soon ok?”

I sulk for a while more. I’d been joking with him for a few weeks now about Wawasan 2020 (Vision 2020) – the year that we’ll actually be able to get married at the rate we’re going. There are days when I get sad. And days when he feels bad. But we make it work. Our plan is going smoothly, just moving along very slowly.

It seems like everywhere I turn now, someone’s getting married. Or their brother or sister or cousin or aunty. I’ve seen single women who have expressed fear of becoming a lonely spinster. And that if there’s a man and an offer, sure, they’d take it. A year ago, I semi-sympathised these women, but laughed it off and joked that things were going to be fine and they’ll find someone someday.

A year ago, I didn’t think about furniture and loans and this and that. I just thought, hey, I’m having fun. And all the extra money I earned from other jobs just meant that I could go out and spend more. Now…I work extra days to earn more for savings and for road tax and for insurance. Eddie started part-time work on top of his full-time duties to put money into our savings.

Years ago, I always knew I wanted to get married. I just never saw it as a reality. Now…it only really hit me that I want to and that I’m ready for such a commitment when I knew that I found the right man.

No, he may not earn hundreds of thousands a year. And he may not possess a house. But I believe that we should work together to get all those things. I only realised how serious he was too when he was enthusiastic and almost relieved at my suggestion to work out a monthly budget in an excel file (I recommend that to EVERYBODY – you know what your budget is. You know how much goes to bills. And you know what you can put into savings).

So yes, I’m a little jealous. I’m happy for Ijah and Rasydan. I’m happy that they’re working out a budget too and planning and wanting our help in thoughts, suggestions and ideas along the way. But I can’t help but think…when is it my turn? When can we give the green light to Ayah and Paklong? I don’t want to go back to Teluk Intan again until I know the answer. Paklong is already in fifth gear. He’s just got his foot on the brakes till Eddie and I say go. But patience is a virtue. Things are slow because it’s the beginning. I foresee us staying in more to be able to reach our goal.

Paying for your own wedding sucks. But I know in the end, it’ll be worth it. Because it’ll be ours.

Living with Arthritis

2009-01-14T21:29:00.000-08:00

15 January 2009 @ 1.39pm

I've been diagnosed with arthritis since my early teens - 13 or 14 - after I started going to the chiropractor. Basically, all my joints hurt - all the time. My thumbs, my neck, my jaw, my knees, my back...

There are days when it's really bad. A couple of months ago, I had to take an emergency half day off work because I couldn't hold a pen. A couple of weeks ago, I couldn't eat because my jaw hurt so bad that I couldn't chew.

Today, my insurance agent called me and said that there's a problem with my application. I need to bring a form to my doctor and get her to fill it out. Eddie's has been approved. Mine is still pending - all because of my arthritis.

I can tell you this now - arthritis is no fun. I constantly need to move my thumbs. If I don't, they get stiff. I can't sleep in an aircon room for two reasons - my sinus and my arthritis. If I do, I'll wake up with a blocked nose and my knees and thumbs hurting.

I'm only 24 and I'm getting worried. I'm not allowed to take too much calcium because it makes me constipated (and I have enough problems in that area alone already). I can't drink milk because that gives me diarrhoea. (My God...I'm a walking encyclopedia of disease!)

What happens 24 years from now? Will I be able to move my thumbs? Will I be able to chew and eat? How can I get rid of this? Problem is... I can't.

Facade

2009-01-13T21:59:00.000-08:00

Wednesday, 14 January 2009 @ 2.11pm

I want to stop being known as confident, independent and strong. For many, many years people have been telling me that I’m capable and smart and strong. That I can go through anything. That I can handle everything. That anyone can throw anything at me and all I’ll do is reply with a charm that’ll shut them up. For how long do you think I can keep up this façade? For how long do you think I can continue weighing this burden on me?

Yes, I have all these jobs. I’m always running around. Always on the go. Once in a while, I may have borrowed money from friends, or called crying, or called saying that I’m parked at the side of the road somewhere. Isn’t that a sign? Shouldn’t that raise alarm bells that maybe something’s not right? That I really can’t handle it all?

When I met you, I thought that I've met someone who's confident, independent and strong. Someone just like me. Except you're a man. I thought I can finally relax and start behaving like a girl when I'm around you. Be manja and start depending on you. To have someone there that I can cry to when I feel like I can't be 'confindent, independent and strong' at the moment.

You never want to talk about our problems. You always want to cuddle and tell me you miss me when you see me. Then you always want to talk about work and money. So fine. I realised that I can't be manja. I can't be a girl. I have to harden my heart again.

I hate Shah Alam

2009-01-13T02:40:00.001-08:00

Tuesday, 13 January 2009 @ 6.41pm

I drove a total of 109km today. And it was all for a CD. I started my day off quite busy – settling two submissions with two art directors while sorting out some other work with my boss. At 12.30pm, I left the office to go to Damansara to drop off one of the completed submissions. After having a quick lunch with ex-colleagues, I made my way out to Shah Alam.

I’ve never been fond of the area. And the names of the roads don’t amuse me. They irritate me. I’ve never been to my client’s office in Shah Alam before and being an AE, that’s just something I have to do. Being hired as an experienced AE, they let me go alone. Big mistake.

I left Damansara at 2pm. I knew I’d get lost. But I never imagined that I would be driving for nearly two hours before reaching my destination. Luckily, Ina was on her way back to her office, which also happened to be in Shah Alam. After aimlessly driving around for a good hour and a half, I called Ina. She told me to wait for her. Being the good friend that she is, she met me where I was parked at Caltex and showed me part of the way and left me where I was sure to find the rest of the way following the map (which is not very useful) that was drawn out for me by a colleague.

Once I made the turning after Ina went off to her office, I got lost looking for the actual location. I knew I was in the right area. All the landmarks that were drawn for me was right in front of me. But I kept missing the turning. Another good fifteen minutes of U-turns. After parking illegally (forget claiming for parking – I was already going to claim big time in petrol alone!), I went in, got the CD and got back to Lily.

Then it hit me. I have no idea how to get out of Shah Alam, let alone the area. I made rounds and I kept ending up on Jalan Kontraktor (do you think that’s smart? I don’t). I finally saw the main road at the end of the world and made my way to it. But there’s another problem – I’m still in Shah Alam.

After half an hour, I finally found my way out and saw the sign board saying, ‘Kuala Lumpur’. But it’s never that easy is it? I was driving towards KL, but this motherfucking eighteen-wheeler truck squeezed me to the left of the road. T o avoid crashing into the divider, I was forced to exit at Subang Jaya. And I don’t know how…but I was back in Shah Alam. At the roundabout where I called Ina!

Making my 25th u-turn of the hour, I finally got back on track to Kuala Lumpur. But there’s another problem. The goddamn Duke Highway just opened and the old familiar roads were gone. Half excited, I drove for the first time on Duke. But exited in another world. I could see KLCC and KL Tower to my left in the distance, and the road sign says Jalan Kuching. But it wasn’t registering. I kept thinking I was in Ipoh. It was past 4pm and I was starting to get a migraine.

Another twenty minutes trying to find a familiar road, I finally exited onto the Jalan Kuching I knew – the one I used to take back home every day after school. Reaching the office with what I knew would be the start of a pounding migraine, I quickly popped two ActiFast Panadol and quickly finished my work. Doing my claims as my boss has been hounding me to submit it for days…I discovered that I drove a total of 109km. 84km was because of Shah Alam.

To top it all off, I went to the toilet and discovered that I have my period. Great end to a great day huh? At least it explains why I feel like shit.

I don't care

2009-01-08T22:33:00.001-08:00

Friday, 9 January 2009 @ 2.33pm

I fear that I am beginning to mentally lose it. I'm tired and getting fed up really quick. I'm releasing my anger on innocent victims and I want to get away from it all.

Last night, at 7.30pm, we had an urgent meeting in the conference room. Me, my superior, the art director and production manager. What for? To rush out 60 pages to be completed, pdf-ed and emailed by 4pm today. It doesn't matter that it was client who delayed the copy by three weeks. It doesn't matter that she denies the fact and is blaming us for only showing her 25 pages in three days (done by ONE person mind you).

All that matters is that she can threaten to take her business elsewhere. Yes, she's our biggest client. But where does she come off delaying the copy and then demanding we finish it in a matter of days? Is she dumb? Incompetent? Stupid? An idiot, I would say. My superior and I have a pure hatred towards her (who the fuck does she think she is calling L and complaining? Talk about, "I'm gonna tell on you" syndrome). So what's our response? Scramble and get the ENTIRE agency to work on this one fucking piece. Oh, how much did we charge this bitch? A mere RM5k. Is it worth it? No fucking way. And whose problem is it? Yours truly.

To top it off, I had a birthday dinner to attend last night. And Eddie had said he would go with me since he finishes work early. Did he remember? No. When I called, what did he do? Hold the phone to his ear for a good few seconds joking with his staff. What did I do? Hang up on him. Did he bother to call back? No, of course not. Since when had men ever been sensitive to their girlfriend's needs?

It was near 8pm and the whole office was going for a "dinner break". Would I like to join? Hell no. I finished whatever I had to do and left. When I drove out, I managed to make the u-turn to my destination, but instead of turning left, I turned right and headed straight for PJ instead. Frank was calling me. I was ignoring it. I just wanted a peace of mind.

I've decided I want to take a break. I will do what I have to do but that's it. I don't want advice. I don't want lectures. I don't want words of wisdom. I would just like to take a break. I want to sleep. I want to get out of bed with a purpose.

This morning, I forced myself out of bed at 8.50am. And I didn't care. I don't care that I'm late for work everyday. I don't care that I go back down to get breakfast once I reach work. I don't care that I don't eat lunch. I don't care that I do only what I have to instead of more than I really should here. I just don't care anymore.

Loose

2009-01-07T01:18:00.000-08:00

Wednesday, 7 January 2009 @ 5.19pm

Two days ago, there was a feature story in one of the Malay papers about a group of 12 and 13 year old girls who were proudly flaunting the fact that they enjoy random and casual sex. And the fact that they taunt and tease their peers who are still virgins, pressuring them into having casual sex too. One was even quoted saying that she’s young, why not have fun now? Did I fail to mention these children are Malay and pictured wearing tudung?

On New Year’s day, there were reports of a female newscaster and actress who were caught in a raid in what was believed to be a sex party, ushering in the new year. It was later revealed that the female newscaster is a 22-year-old Malay woman who’s scheduled to be married in three weeks. It was also reported that a newly-married MALAY couple were also present at the party.

A couple of hours ago, I logged into Eddie’s facebook (it’s a daily routine since I’m his secretary). There were two notifications – one was the message sent by his brother. The other, was a friend request from a woman. I took no notice. Read his brother’s message and logged out. About half an hour ago, I realized that I could actually view the profile of the woman since it was her who was requesting his ‘friendship’.

What I saw both angered and sickened me. In her info, it said, “I’m happy to ‘entertain’ married men. You can see why I’m divorced. I’m looking to settle down with someone who’s willing to have a polygamous relationship with me.” She has five other friends – not surprisingly, all are men. Did I also mention she’s a 29-year-old MALAY woman?

I don’t understand what is happening with the current situation of girls and women today. Especially in the Malay society. I’m sad, sickened, angered and disgusted all at the same time. First I read about these children who are flaunting their lifestyle – all sparked by Mat Rempits. I’m worried. I have an 11-year-old and seven-year-old niece. I also have a 10-year-old nephew. I don’t want any one of them getting caught up in this bullshit.

Then I read that young, Malay women and a couple (who could so easily be my friends), caught in a raid at a suspected sex party? What happened to honour and respect? And the vows that had been so recently taken by the newlyweds? Where was dignity and respect? Did the 22-year-old newscaster think about her future husband? Or could he himself be at another party? Or was in on the whole idea and encouraged her?

Today…I see some 29-year-old hussy who’s trying to invite MY man for casual sex? I’ve known, heard and seen through other friends where people use networks like Facebook and Friendster to search for potential sex partners. They add them as friends and start chatting, all in the hopes of having casual, no-strings attached sex. I’ve never really said much or got involved except for the occasional reminder to play safe and smart. But once a brazen whore casually declares she’s loose and free and invites MY man for casual sex…she’s got another thing coming. She’s clearly messing with the wrong couple.

Idiots come in all shapes and sizes

2009-01-06T02:29:00.000-08:00

Tuesday, 6 January 2008 @ 6.38pm

A man was crossing the road without even looking. I slowed down because I don't feel like getting slapped with a hit and run charge today. He turned his face to me as he was taking his own sweet time crossing. Then he stuck his finger in his nostril and dug at that stubborn piece of booger. And he just kept looking at me, his finger up his nose, as he strolled to the other side.

A man was sitting on his motorbike, chatting with two of his friends. He was blocking my way to drive into the entrance of my office building. And as I horned and turned dangerously close to the idiot, he just continued chatting with his buddies.

A woman was walking. I could see her in my rearview mirror. As I reversed into the parking space along side the rows of cars on both sides of me, she chose to walk BEHIND my reversing car.

These series of events happened in a mere ten minutes. It happened about half an hour ago when I was driving back into my office from my meeting. I'm always astounded at the level of stupidity that I see all the time. But this time...after another meeting with an idiot client who thinks we just need to "cut and paste" pictures and words to lay out our designs and expects 60 (!!) pages by Thursday. My God...talk about a test... luckily I was too tired to swear. So I just gave them a 'fuck you' face.

By the way, if you're visiting somebody's house...do you park your car IN FRONT of their gate? No? Well, I guess only an idiot would (and for those who know what I'm talking about, no, I'm not over it yet. Idiot).

Lessons Learned (Part 3: Final)

2009-01-05T19:17:00.000-08:00

Tuesday, 6 January 2009 @ 11.18am

Lesson #5: Sometimes settling is just not good enough

Ever since I left Trix, I’ve been whining that I hate being an AE and blah blah blah. I’ve always been told and been taught to push further and be all that I can be, to the best of my abilities. Ever since I was in uni, I’ve been pushing myself to work harder then I really should. Because I realized that I’ve been given an awesome opportunity that a lot of other people won’t get. I also realized that Papa worked hard as fuck to be able to provide my siblings and I with these opportunities. Taking advantage of it and just passing by is really a stupid way to go. So I decided to push myself as hard (if not harder) so that one day, I will be able to provide that same opportunities to my children.

Ever since I learnt to appreciate the fact that I’ve been given a start ahead of many others, I decided that settling is not good enough. When I started Trix, I felt like my weekends were wasted. Two days of doing nothing. So I decided to apply for a job as part-time teacher at Get Crafty (then known as Craft Attack). In 2007, I was working seven days a week and I loved it. I was making the most of every day and every moment. It was at this moment that I decided that, “hey, you’re young. If you don’t do all that you can now, then when can you?”

When I became an AE, I suddenly felt dumb. I didn’t have to push myself and there was no challenge. I was merely servicing clients. I AM merely servicing clients. There was no creative drive anymore. No push. No stress. No pressure to get to the deadline. What I do now is wait around, get quotations done, make sure invoices are sent, chase clients to pay us, and act my way through clients and bosses. There are times when it gets extremely busy. But once I’ve briefed the designer…that’s it.

I’ve had arguments with Papa about my wanting to look for another job. I’ve told him I feel useless here. But he says stay. Economy is bad and I’m lucky to have a job and blah blah blah. But I DESPISE coming here. I look forward to weekends because then I get to work at Get Crafty. I HATE when it’s Sunday evening because that means that it’s only hours away till I have to come back here. I feel like I’ve been dumbed down. I don’t work to the best of my abilities here because I cannot accept what I am here. I cannot accept that I can be just an AE. I know I can do better.

I used to pour my heart and soul at Trix. Work was piling and I loved it. I just hated the pay. I loved being in control and there I got to multi-task. There were clients to handle, articles to be written, designers to brainstorm with and bosses who trusted me. Here…I’m not even trying. Because there’s nothing to try. You just lie. All the time. My boss even joked to me, “you better pray everyday. Because you’re going to have a lot of sins working here.” Yes, that’s advertising for you.

I’m miserable here. I’ve worked out the steps and the system and I’m just going at it day by day. I feel depressed coming here. I don’t even bother playing nice and lunching with colleagues anymore. I just play at a nice, vague level to ensure I don’t come off as the cold-hearted bitch. I’m so glad that I have Get Crafty to look forward to so I don’t fall into a black hole of darkness and misery. I’ve decided that I’m not going to settle here. I can and will do better.

Lesson #6: Love is sacrifice

People always say that you have to give and take in a relationship. That you each have to make sacrifices and accommodate. Most of the time, the things that need changing are not major. It’s whether you’re willing to do it or not.

Eddie and I will be celebrating our one year anniversary very, very soon. And since then, we’ve been through a lot together. It sometimes feels like we’ve been together longer than a year. But with each step of the way, we’ve had to learn all the grueling details of each other and it was up to us whether or not we could or wanted to accept the other.

Along the way, we’ve learnt how to deal with each other. I’ve learned that he has a temper and I know how to calm him down. Recently, his family has expressed relief that we found each other because we complement each other. He needs somebody who’s firm enough to pull him down and they’ve said that they’re glad I’m able to do that. In fact, whenever they need to get through to him, they go through me first. He’s knows I get irrational when I lose it and he knows how to handle me too.

I’ve learned that we both need our space. Eddie’s job demands long grueling hours (sometimes from 9am till 12.30am) of physical work that leads him to both mental and physical exhaustion. Not only does he have to handle staff and customers, he also has to deal with paperwork and the management of the restaurant.

My jobs vary from mental to physical work. Mega Ads is mostly mental exhaustion after hours of endless arguments with various people while Get Crafty can be eight straight hours of being on your feet dealing with children and their parents while not even being able to have a toilet break or having lunch.

We don’t see each other every day and we’re both OK with that. We’ve learned that we don’t need to see each other ever day to love each other. Sometimes he just needs to unwind and so do I.

I’ve learned that we come from different worlds. He is a kampung boy and I am a city girl. But there are traits of each others worlds that we both actually already possess. I secretly like Malay tradition and culture, and he and his family have been there every step of the way to teach me things I was either to shy to ask or never experienced. He lives like a city boy but is truly a kampung boy at heart. We’ve learned to trade information, to teach each other things and to learn together.

I’ve learned that we complement each other. It may seem that we’re worlds apart, but there’s actually a lot that we have in common. We just took the time and effort to learn from each other. And it’s that one major sacrifice that I think has glued us together.

Lessons Learned (Part 2)

2009-01-04T23:44:00.000-08:00

Monday, 5 January 2009 @ 3.44pm

Lesson #3: NEVER judge a book by its cover

I have met a lot of people in 2008. It started with Eddie. He is so unlike what I first assumed he would be. He turned out to be kind, caring, thoughtful, affectionate and easily excitable. He enjoys simple things in life and loves to make me laugh. When he took me back to Teluk Intan, I learned another side of him. I saw him as Abang Eddie or Abanglong. He loves children. He’s always asking if Cutie Face is at home when he visits. He loves playing with Wani, the toddler who lives across the road from his father’s house. And his younger cousins and brother look up to him so much (and not only because he’s the tallest one in the house ;P)

I’ve come to know Eddie’s friends – a lot of whom I previously thought I had nothing in common with or wouldn’t be able to communicate. They turned out to be fun, concerned human beings. They’ve also established some sort of respect for me and try to ‘behave’ when I’m around. Save for a few, they’ve also become somewhat protective over me. When I’m at Pavilion and Eddie’s away, if ever F***** (the jerk who wanted me too) or anyone for that matter tried to disturb me, which is a lot of the time, someone in the vicinity will always tell him to piss off. Especially Bennie, Qayum and John. I guess it sometimes helps knowing half the staff working at the restaurants in Pavilion J

In all my lines of work – Mega Ads, Get Crafty and Kostari – I get to meet all sorts of people. At Mega Ads, I meet the more corporate, serious types of people. There are those who understand the position you’re in (being the middle man to boss, client and designer) and cut you some slack. There are those who refuse to be understanding and instead prefer to use you as a punching bag (verbally of course). And there are those who really don’t know what they’re doing and you end up as they’re personal assistant.

At Get Crafty, I meet a lot of parents, aunties, uncles, brothers, sisters, cousins…the whole family actually. And they come from all over the world – literally. There are those who can be quite rude and interrupt everything you’re saying. Those who only look at the price and demand for it to be lower. Those who don’t understand that art materials don’t come cheap. Those who just come in to complain that we should lower our prices like our competitor downstairs (to which I reply that we provide a service which requires some sort of talent that will hopefully be passed down to their children, while our rivals downstairs merely watch over their children while their children play).

At Kostari, I have met characters who are willing to listen and help in any way they can. And characters who are only in it in hopes to gain some sort of financial return. These are the people who sicken me. Kostari has a mission to accomplish that involves the betterment of orphans, and those who demand a 25% or 50% share (each!!) should go and fuck themselves. Idiot.

As a normal human being, you tend to judge before you know. And you always fix a stereotypical image of a person when you first meet them. I thought people who wanted to be a part of Kostari wanted to help. Turned out they just wanted a cut from the generous souls who wanted to donate. I thought (and I’m being honest here) that a lot of Eddie’s friends would be hooligans. Turns out that a lot of them are really sweet. After my fight with Eddie on New Year’s, it was three of his friends who consoled me and told me that things would turn out fine. I thought my one major client was a bitch born straight from hell. Turns out that she’s just under a lot of stress from her bosses and is handling ALL the work herself without the aid of ANYONE else.

NEVER judge a book by its cover. For those who you think are hooligans or barbarians or some other stereotypical image you had in mind, give them a second chance. They might always turn out to be the ones who protect you, or the ones who keep you company. They may also turn out to be friendly and funny as hell J And for the rest who you think looks ‘ok’, WATCH OUT! They may just want your money.

Lesson #4: Spend more time at home

I’ve missed so many things that were happening at home. I just found out a few days ago that my cousin’s getting married. Quite honestly, 2008 was not a good year to be at home. I was always being told that I never spend enough time at home, which just made me go out more, and that I’m a stranger, which sometimes just made me work all night so I wouldn’t have to go home.

I’ve always felt a little misunderstood when I’m at home. My views are always different from what I heard at home. I always saw home as a place to relax. But I’m always on guard. There are always discussions on politics and money, and that just makes me want to go away. I already have to deal with that crap 16 hours of the day. I don’t think it’s too much to ask for a few hours of peace and relaxation. When I spend more time in my room, I get ‘talks’ about shutting out from everyone else.

But I’ve made a resolution to spend more time at home. Brave it like I brave work and do what I have to do to please everyone. Hell, I make a lot more effort everywhere else, I guess it wouldn’t hurt if I tried at home. I just have to learn to be a lot louder and thick-skinned if I’m going to sit through one of those politics and money discussions. Sigh. Family is forever.

Lessons Learned (Part 1)

2009-01-04T20:58:00.000-08:00

Monday, 5 January 2009 @ 1.53pm

Lesson #1: We are still a divided nation

One of my duties as an AE here, is to read through all major newspapers published to look for any news on any of our clients while also cutting out ads which are done by us, a competitor, or simply one we think is worth filing. Every day, I read about seven to eight newspapers - three English, two Malay and two Chinese (I know - talented aren't I?)

Having majored in Media and Communications, I understood that different newspapers will use different styles and angles to cover a particular news piece. After a few weeks of flipping through the papers, I started to notice something. We are still a divided nation. All major news will be covered, but the Malay papers will focus more on news of fellow Malays, while the Chinese papers will feature more news on their Chinese counterparts.

It is not just evident in newspapers. I was shocked on the eve of New Year's eve when I invited one of my colleagues to join myself and Eddie for the NYE's celebrations at Pavilion. Her reply was, "but I'll be the only Chinese there" and politely declined. I was extremely surprised that anyone would still reject an invitation based on the fact that majority of the company would be of a different race.

In uni, I was the only foreigner. Most used to look at me like I wouldn't understand a word they were saying. There were those with a little more life experience that treated me no different. But boy, were they all surprised when I opened my mouth and spoke. I remember walking with my lecturer to collect a paper he'd already graded. On the way there, he said, "Anna, I must say, when you first joined my class, I was a little doubtful that you'd be able to handle Philosophy of Culture. But after your presentation and after reading your paper, I must say I'm very impressed at your ability to not only speak, but write in a language that's not originally your own."

After uni, I impressed prospective employers during interviews with my spoken and written English and even landed a job as Editor. I'm not your typical Malay girl and I'm ashamed to say that I'm not very fluent in my own mother tongue. I try to practice. I'm mercilessly made fun of by Frank Moore, but also glad that he and Martha takes me as I am and even try to teach me a thing or two. I guess...in a twisted sort of way, I'm attracted to Eddie because I think we balance each other out and are able to give (hopefully) our future children the best of both worlds. (Come to think about it...I'm quite impressed with how well Eddie and I have been able to communicate with each other since day one).

So back to my point, we may claim to be a land of all races. Embracing each other's culture and all, but take a look around you. Read the newspapers (and not just the major English ones). I don't need to look that far. In the last nine years, at uni and at work (both jobs except Get Crafty), I have been surrounded by races other than my own. And I have had to brave my way into becoming one of them. But not everyone is willing to do what I do. So when are we going to brave each other's races and stop being a divided nation?

Lesson #2: Strength, courage and confidence comes from within

I have gone through a lot this year - physically, mentally and emotionally. I have had to deal with sleepless nights, endless fights, ridiculous demands and I had nowhere to vent. There was a stretch of time where all I did was work, work, work. Mondays to Fridays was work from 9am to 7pm, then Kostari from 9pm till I was falling asleep in front of my computer at around 2 or 3am. Weekends were Get Crafty on Saturdays from 10am to 8pm, followed by Kostari at around 10pm till 4am. Sundays were meetings on Kostari or going back into office to prepare for Monday meetings.

There were times when I really felt like I had nothing left. Times where I felt I was losing hope. Especially when things were tense at home. I think that's why I threw myself into more work than I could handle. That way everything became a distraction from what was really going on. That was also why I cherished the days, hours and nights where I got to see Eddie, I got to escape for a little while. I also looked forward to going back to Teluk Intan. When I'm there, I'm Kak Anna. I'm being pulled by Maksu, Maklong, Paklong, Umie and Ayah and all of Eddie's cousins and siblings all the time to eat, go somewhere or do something that I don't have time to think. It was the journey back that both Eddie and I didn't really look forward to. In fact, when we're on MRR2, that's when our attitudes harden to 'KL-mode'.

I've learnt that strength and confidence comes from within. It comes from a place deep inside that is sparked by a motivation that only you can create. It's no use complaining and whining when something gets a little tough. Just get up and do it. Be proactive. It always helps if you have people you can count on. People who understand and people who are there to help you find a solution. Besides, you can always cry in the shower or in the car when you're alone.

Big Girls Don't Cry

2009-01-01T06:22:00.000-08:00

Thursday, 1 January 2008 @ 10.22pm

I've been working with children for two years now. And it still amazes me how transparent, honest and real their emotions are. When it hurts, they scream in pain, when they're afraid or are sad, they cry. When they like something, they smile and laugh. When they're angry, they throw a tantrum. There's no in between.

At what stage did we learn to mask our feelings? Learn to play games to disguise our real emotions? When did it become wrong for grown men and women to express themselves honestly without getting in some sort of trouble?

I believe I'm extremely emotional. Some have even said it's bad. But why? Why is it wrong to react emotionally? Why do we need to hide and mask what we truely feel? To protect someone else? Does anybody realise that when we do that, it just hurts us more in the end?

When I don't get to see Eddie, I sometimes get a bit upset. He hears it in my voice. And he always tells me, "jangan ikut sangat." What should I do instead? Pretend? Act? Just continue going on even though inside I'm miserable?I tell him this. He says no, I should be honest with him. How am I supposed to be honest when I'm being told to ignore my honest feelings?

Why are children celebrated for expressing themselves but adults punished for even daring to show what they really feel? Why do we have this innate sickness to hide what we truly feel and only portray the standard and acceptable emotion: happiness.

Today I was miserable. I cried while I drove to work. I cried at the beginning of work. But I knew I couldn't be honest so I stopped. What I did instead was pretend to be happy for the rest of the day. But I'm human. There were definitely moments where the sadness took over. A moment or two where I would zone out. But I had to snap back to reality. Why? So I could satisfy everyone by giving them a smile.

It turned sour again when I went to Pavilion. He left. He's avoiding me. Yes, we had an incredibly huge and public fight an hour into the New Year. But the feeling of sadness and misery set in once again. I knew what it meant. But now that I think about it, didn't we honestly portray our feelings to each other last night? I had my point. He had his. I was adamant and so was he.

Why do children heal faster? Why don't children understand grudge and revenge? Why don't children know how to hide and disappear? Because somewhere along the way, we were taught that it's wrong to be anything but happy. We were taught that a part of our adult duty is to please everyone else but yourself. And that's exactly what I did today. I got on with my job. I did what I had to do. I ignored whatever I could. But now I can't anymore.

I hope you know...that this has nothing to do with you
It's personal, myself and I...
We've got some straightening out to do...
And I'm gonna miss you like a child misses their blanket
But I've got to get a move on with my life
It's time to be a big girl now...and big girls don't cry...

Monopoly Madness!

2008-12-29T08:20:00.000-08:00

Tuesday, 30 December 2008 @ 12.54am

Tonight I had the most fun and laughter than I had put together all my major events in this whole year. Since it was a public holiday, I was working at Get Crafty. It was an incredibly bad day with only around six students sigining in. It was an incredibly slow day.

At the end of the day, we'd decided to play Monopoly. Aya had brought her Powerpuff Girls Monopoly set and had been urging us the whole day to play. We finally started after we closed shop at 8pm. There were four of us playing - Aiza, Martha, Myra and me. Aya was the banker.

By 10pm, I was winning the bulk of the money. I'd built a row of houses on a stretch of road where they had to pay me either $700 or $875 a piece. Whenever I saw any of their pieces going near my houses, I'd count the number of spots it would take for them to land on my property and chant the magic number as they rolled the dice. Eight out of ten times... it landed on my property! Ahahahaha....

We were all laughing so much that by the 11pm, although I'd made the three of them declare bankcrupty (I know I spelt that wrong), our cheeks were hurting from all the laughing and we had tears running down our swollen cheeks. Martha even dropped a chair and doubled over on the floor laughing so much...

I'd never had any luck playing Monopoly. I always lost money or landed on all the shitty and cheap property. But tonight, I striked gold and took a risk by putting the bulk of my money into building houses and a skyscraper. That was definitely a smart move :)

I remember the last time I laughed as much or as hard was a good four or five years ago. We were all at a friend's restaurant and had an impromptu game of charades. The night ended at about 4am. Tonight, it was an impromptu game of Monopoly that ended in LOTS of laughter and fun, along with my winning more than 10k :)

I highly recommend those who have had an extremely long, tiring and testing year to just relieve yourselves and have fun through a fun game of Monopoly. It will definitely get your heart pumping and your stress and worries off your minds. It definitely put a huge grin on my face that refuses to go away - even with my cheeks pounding in pain :)

What did you do this year?

2008-12-23T17:53:00.000-08:00

Wednesday, 24 December 2008 @ 12.31pm

January

I got my bonus. To celebrate, I went out with Steph to a place called Michelangelo's in Pavilion. I met Eddie :)

February

I went on a holiday with my WHOLE family to Langkawi. I only started realising that I was falling for Eddie when I returned from the trip.

March

13 March - Eddie's birthday. We went to Secret Recipe at Ampang Point. This was also the first time I met his sisters.

April

12 April - Steph and Dad's birthday. We had a BBQ at Dad's place. I remember Steph picked me up after my work at Get Crafty and told me that her sister was at the party. I said, "what sister?" Her reply, "I know!" An extremely emotional night - long lost family members turning up. Dad was happy. So was Steph.

May

I was getting closer to Eddie. I was working more at Get Crafty - on both Saturday and Sunday. I was tired and grumpy and angry a lot of the time. So I quit Get Crafty.

June

The best 24th birthday I could ask for. The night before my birthday was my official last day at Get Crafty. I stayed till 10pm with Zaza making craft. When I reached home, there was a pile of gifts on my bed. The best of the bunch was a 'painting' that held 24 chinese spoons with a small plate in the middle, symbolising my age (duh). An awesome and thoughtful gift from Papa.

On my birthday, Eddie met my family. A few weeks after that, he took me back to Teluk Intan for his sister's engagement. A very eventful month indeed.

July

A tough time. A transition. A decision.

Eddie and I were in the midst of finding new jobs. I wanted a job that could pay me what I knew I was worth. Eddie wanted a job that he knew he was worth doing.

Days were spent looking through classifieds and applying. Sending out resumes and getting call backs.

August

I got my call back from Mega Ads. She offered me the job. I started this blog.

31 August - Merdeka. It was also the day I gave my resignation letter at Trix.

Eddie started working at Dome.

September

Bulan Ramadhan. This was when I realised that I would have no worries about my children learning about my religion. This was when I realised that I would have no worries asking or learning about my own religion. Because Eddie was there. He'd gone to an Islamic school and was instilled in him all that was needed to know about Islam.

October

Bulan Syawal = War, Love, Peace, Harmony.

This blog caused a stir. Arguments were carried out. I was forced into writing an apology on my blog. Did I do it? Hell no. Like I've said before, if everything that I write in my blog hurts your feelings, stop reading it.

Eddie brought me back to Teluk Intan. I learned tradition and humility. I learned forgiveness and togetherness.

I learned that nothing I could do or say would please certain people. So I decided to focus on my career. I decided to pull away and do whatever I could to succeed in life - at least at a place where you're not always a disappointment and not everything you do is wrong or a subject for an argument.

I became a Board of Director for Kostari. And I joined back Get Crafty.

November

I started work at Mega Ads. It was a major adjustment. I'd become an AE. A step down from what I was at Trix. But this is where I learnt that I did a hell of a good job at Trix. Clients were calling and SMS-ing me. Mr L wrote me a great recommendation letter. I'd discovered that I was valued there and created some sort of an impact.

Eddie and I went to Trolak for Baiti's wedding. Ayah wanted to meet Papa. I made no promises.

I experienced my first death when Dad passed away.

I decided that I want to marry Eddie. When? I dunno. We're saving money as I type this. A wedding, and a house, and babies and what not cost A LOT of money. (Donations of any kind are most welcome :))

December

So far, my busiest month of the year. Since day one, I hadn't had an off day till 26 December. And that's the day after tomorrow.

Eddie's sister got married and my position was finally established by all family members. I presented Kostari to prospective sponsors.

Eddie and I bought insurance. One more step towards financial stability - hopefully. Plus, as of January 2009, we'll be covered medically. Woohoo!

2008

Looking back, it's been a good year. Things are finally falling into place. Work is getting stable (although I still hate what I'm doing full-time, I'm learning to adjust and accept that I am an AE). I've come to be known as the 'inevitable part-timer' at Get Crafty, which I love. And I'm doing something good with Kostari (we're trying to help orphans - what have you done to help others lately?)

I've also met someone who I believe complements me well. Who works well with me and who knows how to handle me. Who accepts me for who I am and is working all the time to reach our goal.

I've discovered I have amazing friends who I can depend on. Those who are there for the good and the bad, the sad and the painful, and the happy and the angry. Friends who will stay up till 3am and accompany you at your office on a Sunday night so you won't be alone. Friends who would rush from the other side of town just to give you a hug. Friends who are willing to meet you and give you whatever type of support they can just to show they care.

Yes, it's been a good year. Let's just hope that 2009 can offer us all this and more.

Is it wrong?

2008-12-22T01:59:00.000-08:00

Monday, 22 December 2008 @ 6.17pm

Is it wrong to have feelings? Is it wrong to feel disappointed? Is it wrong to want to try and spend whatever little time is available with you? Is it wrong that I feel a little down for not being able to see you tonight?

Yes, I remember what we spoke about the other night. Yes, it was me who said we should do as we agreed. Yes, it was also me who's been the so-called understanding one.

I've decided to concentrate on my work. I've decided to focus on my career. I've decided that I won't care if I don't get to spend so much time with you anymore. I've decided to pursue every free moment of my time doing another job, not even bothering to make time on your off day.

Call me needy if you want. Clingy. But really? Is that fair? How often do I call you? Once? Twice a day? Is that too clingy? Is it wrong that I want to spend time with you? That I look forward to our nights out? Our rare moments of free time together that's not spent with our friends or in the company of our families? I've asked you once, twice, thrice...when was the last time it was just you and me? Do I have to beg you for time? Is it really wrong for me to want to spend what little free time I have with you? How often do I even see you? Think about it.

Yes, it's selfish. Yes, it's not fair. But no, I don't think it's unfair. I'm just doing what you're doing.

Advertising

2008-12-21T09:23:00.000-08:00

Monday, 22 December, 1.28am

I'm in the office. Yes. It's 1.28am and I'm in the office. Before this I complained that I had to finish work at 10pm. Tonight, I came in after midnight and I'm now waiting for the art director to finish doing the mock up for me to present to client tomorrow morning. At 9am. In Damasara Jaya. Yes, advertising is fucking great.

Useless (but interesting) info

2008-12-18T18:46:00.000-08:00

Friday, 19 December 2008 @ 11.04am

Yes! It's Friday! Finally...My boss is not in yet and the other AE has gone out for a meeting. I could actually sneak to do some Kostari work now but tonight is also our Annual Dinner. Everyone is in party mood. Plus, there's a theme. Everyone has to wear a school uniform. No one is in the mood to work and everyone is in the mood to visit each other's cubicles to check out what they're wearing. No way can I risk doing Kostari.

Last night I searched high and low for something uniform-y to wear today. My back-up plan is to wear my white dress that sort of looks like a pinafore with a black collar shirt underneath. Seeking my sister and her children's help last night, they gave me my nieces actual school pinafore to wear. I thought there's no way that I can actually fit into an 11-year-old's uniform. WRONG! Not only did it fit...it was loose! Hahahaha! But! Her name is on it and so is her school logo. No way am I wearing that for the day... so I'm now wearing the white dress with black shirt underneath. And... I've been called a nurse >(

Hehehehe... anyway... in this dress and with everyone in party mode, no way am I doing any work either. So I decided to surf the web for some useless, but nonetheless interesting, information I could find that's related to me. So here's what I found (courtesy of yahoo.com):

Are Hands the Blueprint of Our Destiny?

Water

long, sometimes oval-shaped palms with long fingers
soft, damp skin
lots of fine lines, often unclear

Water hands belong to emotional, creative, and introverted types who are sensitive and perceptive. They can be vulnerable and a bit naïve. They tend to be quiet and make decisions based on gut feelings.

Can Blood Type Determine Your Personality?

Type A

Type As may seem calm on the outside, but inside, you’re filled with anxiety and worry. You’re perfectionists and often shy and sensitive. Usually introverted, you’re stable and thoughtful. You make good listeners and are sensitive to color and your surroundings. You like to be fashionable and are up on the latest trends, but never flashy or gaudy. You like romantic settings and often shun reality for fantasy worlds. A is most compatible with A and AB in the love department.

Common career choices: accountant, librarian, economist, writer, computer programmer, and gossip columnist.

Hmm... does any of the above information ring true? Maybe just the ones that I bolded :)

Life's a Bitch

2008-12-18T02:39:00.000-08:00

Thursday, 18 December 2008 @ 6.57pm

I need a cigarette. I'm dying. I feel like everyone wants a piece of me.

I quit about three months into my relationship with Eddie. I'd been smoking since I was about 17. I decided to quit because it got to a point where I was smoking so much that I felt like vomiting by 11am. I hated the smell. In the afternoons, it made me dizzy. But after lunch...ahhh...

I haven't had a craving since...wow...I don't remember. But I remember I was sitting at a mamak with Eddie and I took one of his sticks and lit up. After a few puffs I put it out because I didn't want it anymore.I felt disgusted.

Today...is not a good day. I woke up with a sacrifice on my mind. A sadness and numbness that's so new but so real and so justifiably fair. I hate that I was the one who realised it. Yuck. Why must I suddenly grow a conscience? Coming into the office, it was chaos. I'd miss my big meeting yesterday evening and everyone was updating and questioning. On the table behind me, the newspapers were as tall as my legs.

By lunch time, my fingers were covered in carbon with my frantically looking through all the papers for ads that were worthy of cutting out and filing. I was cold, stressed and being pulled at every free chance by every living soul in the office.

At 3.30pm, I got an earful from a client who continues to blame the agency for being slow in delivering our copy and visual. Fuck you, bitch. You didn't follow the fucking schedule. And me, being the ever responsible AE, listened, apologised and used the standard and well-known phrase by AEs the world over - "I'll check and get back to you." As I walked into L's office for a meeting, the fucking bitch called L to complain. I got the bear of the brunt. Luckily, V and N came to my defense. They knew what was going on.

I left L's office thinking, "what else could go wrong?" Missed calls and an SMS oon my phone reminding me of work that's still to be done for Kostari. I sat down and put my head in my hands. This was the moment I so craved for a cigarette.

When I was working at Trix - especially during our peak periods - I used to practically count down the minutes before 1pm. The first drag was all it took to life that burden from my shoulders. When I had to stay back in the office, there were times I'd go down at 6.30pm, have a few quick puffs and rush back up to work.

Today, I was even thinking of ways to get a cigarette. I didn't want to buy a pack. Number 1, they're fucking expensive now. Number 2, I'd never finish it. Number 3, Eddie wouldn't be too pleased. I was even close to going to J in the next cubicle to steal one of his sticks.

Luckily, a few banter emails back and forth with K and the craving went away. K and I were sarcastically complementing our clients love and praise for the agency. Notice the sarcasm?

*Sigh* Life's a bitch. It keeps moving on. Even if you just want it all to stop. Evev for just 5 minutes.

A Sacrifice

2008-12-17T04:53:00.000-08:00

Wednesday, 17 December 2008 @ 9.40pm

When we were children, we expected and demanded attention from our parents. When we were teenagers, we then expected attention from our friends. When we become adults, we start expecting attention from the one whom we've chosen to be with.

But what if this person is so intent in marrying you that he's focusing all his time and energy into work? Even if that means working overtime, working all the time, working anytime? Even if it means I never get to see him? Or we only get to meet when there's a pre-determined ocassion? Or if we do meet it's in the company of 25 other people? Or at his work place? Or mine?

What if you're so intent too that you spend all your time working too? To make enough money to survive. To make enough money to save. To make enough money to be 'happy'. What if you're both so focused on the future that you're neglecting the present? Is now important? Should we spend all this time focusing on the future? How are we going to have a future if our foundations now are not being looked after?

I've had this conversation. Too many times. I finally had a realisation tonight. And I've decided to stick to it. After all, love is a sacrifice isn't it?

A few questions that I need to know

how you could ever hurt me so

I need to know what I've done wrong

and how long it's been going on

Was it that I never paid enough attention?

Or did I not give enough affection?

Not only will your answers keep me sane

but I'll know never to make the same mistake again

You can tell me to my face

or even on the phone

You can write it in a letter, either way, I have to know

Did I never treat you right?

Did I always start the fight?

Either way, I'm going out of my mind

all the answers to my questionsI have to find

My head's spinning

Boy, I'm in a daze

I feel isolated

Don't wanna communicate

I'll take a shower,

I will scour

I will rub

To find peace of mind

The happy mind I once owned, yeah

Flexing vocabulary runs right through me

The alphabet runs right from A to Zed

Conversations, hesitations in my mind

You got my conscience asking questions that I can't find

I'm not crazy

I'm sure I ain't done nothing wrong, no

I'm just waiting

'Cause I heard that this feeling won't last that long

Never ever have I ever felt so low

When you gonna take me out of this black hole?

Never ever have I ever felt so sad

The way I'm feeling yeah, you got me feeling really bad

Never ever have I had to find

I've had to dig away to find my own peace of mind

I've Never ever had my conscience to fight

The way I'm feeling, yeah, I just don't feel right

I'll keep searching

Deep within my soul

For all the answers

Don't wanna hurt no more

I need peace, got to feel at ease

Need to be.

Free from pain - going insane

My heart aches, yeah

Sometimes vocabulary runs through my head

The alphabet runs right from A to Zed

Conversations, hesitations in my mind

You got my conscience asking questions that I can't find

I'm not crazy, I'm sure I ain't done nothing wrong

I'm just waiting'

Cause I heard that this feeling won't last that long

Never ever have I ever felt so low

When ya gonna take me out of this black hole?

Never ever have I ever felt so sad

The way I'm feeling yeah, you got me feeling really bad

Never ever have I had to find

I've had to dig away to find my own peace of mind

I've Never ever had my conscience to fight

The way I'm feeling, yeah, I just don't feel right

You can tell me to my face,

You can tell me on the phone,

Uh, You can write it in a letter, babe

'Cause I really need to know

You can write it in a letter, babe

'Never Ever' by All Saints

A Coincidence and a Call

2008-12-16T07:13:00.001-08:00

Tuesday, 16 December 2008 @ 11.46pm

I started this entry whinging about how tired I am and how hard I'm working, which then lead me to say how my 'outside' life revolves around my working schedule. Then I got bored just writing it. I'm already working as we speak now and writing this entry was supposed to be me taking a breather. So why would I want to talk about work while I'm supposed to be taking a break from work?

A Lucky Coincidence

Yesterday, I received a phone call from this person called Hazel. She said she was from Prudential and wanted to sell me some insurance. I asked her how she got my name and number. She replied saying it's in their database. I figured it's one of two things - my sister once applied and almost got the job so she probably could've filled out my details. And two, my brother's girlfriend works there. Another mighty possibility that my details could've been given then.

During the first call, I was actually interested in buying some insurance - especially health. Eddie and I had been discussing getting some sort of couple insurace package thing for a few months now. But I told her to call me back in the afternoon to discuss details. In the afternoon, she called while I was in a meeting. So I told her to call me back.

It was near evening when she called again. This time, I knew I had to give her some sort of solid answer. She wanted to meet. I told her I'm packed during the day. When she said we could meet on weekends too, I told her I work on weekends too. She asked what I did. I said I teach at a place called Get Crafty in GE Mall. She was quiet for a short while, so I went on to explain the centre. Then she said, "there's one in OU too right?" I said, yeah! That's the one!

The coincidence? Her reply, "I'm S*** W**. I quit about a month ago." My reply? "Hey! I didn't know it's you! We've met a couple of times..." So Hazel turned out to be the teacher who came as a replacement once in a while from the other branch. We started to speak normally by then...no more business talk. But we did finally arrange for a meeting this Saturday. And since she was once a teacher too, I didn't have to explain to her the whole procedure of our break and blah blah blah.

Woohoo! We're finally getting insurance!

A Call

It was 8am and I was extremely blur. I'd set the alarm for 6.45am and placed the phone on the floor in the hopes that I would get up and unpack my stuff before having to go to work. Obviously, my body decided to get up an hour before I was due in to work.

There was an SMS from a unknown number that said, "I'm home." WTF? Usually, I'd reply, "who r u?" or completely ignore it. But for some reason, I decided I'd call and just hear the voice. If I didn't recognise it, I'd hang up. Well, I didn't recognise it.

As I was about to get out of my bed to shower, he called back! I thought, shit. They never call back. So I answered and nonchalantly said, "hello?" He immediately said, "you called?" I was thinking who the f*** re you? But instead said, "who is this?" his reply? "Your ex-boyfriend." Immediately I knew who it was. He was back for the holidays. A three-minute chat and we hung up.

I didn't feel a thing. Just, oh, ok. I always thought if I'd ever see or hear from him again it would stir up some sort of emotions. Instead, I just felt...nothing. When I told Eddie, he felt something though. That was enough to make my day :)

An argument, a wedding, and a few revelations...

2008-12-14T22:01:00.000-08:00

Tuesday, 16 December 2008 @ 12.39am

Friday, 12 December 2008

It was about 5.15am. I shivered through my cold shower. It's a good thing I'd already packed all my things two days before. I reached Eddie's place at about 6am. He and Qayum were ready. When Eddie got in the car, I salam him and pulled back immediately instead of the usual hug hello. I was still recovering from our bitter argument the night before. (He'd insisted on driving back to Teluk Intan after he closed shop at 12.30am. I told him no. We fought.)

We drove in silence at first. Then he asked what's wrong. I fired back, "you want to do this in front of Qayum?" His reply, "ignore him. Just talk to me." I just shook my head and kept silent. We stopped to fill up petrol. When Eddie got out, Qayum said, "Relax Na, sekarang ni dia tengah panas. Nanti dia ok la tu." Half an hour into our journey, Eddie held me hand. My hand stayed limp. Qayum was drifting in and out of sleep in the backseat. It took about an hour and a bit before Eddie and I were ok.

We reached Teluk Intan at about 8.30am. But we went straight into town to look for flowers for Imah's wedding, and went to have breakfast first. It was Qayum's first time there, so we were showing him what little sights there were while looking for a place that sold fresh flowers. It was a dark and damp morning. After that, we went to buy Imah's gift - a 47-piece dinnerware set.

We reached Ayah's house at about 11.30am. The house was bustling with people. The women were sitting on the floor outside cutting onions and garlic and chili. The men were setting up the tent. Eddie's family were all assigned jobs and busy working. After the initial hello, we went straight to work. There were 1,800 doorgift bags in the middle of the living room where the TV and sofa should have been. Our first task was to pack up the door gifts and put it in the house next door before packing the remaining of the 3,000 door gifts that were to be prepared.

By 9pm, everyone was settling down. Most of the jobs for the day was done and everyone was beat. I took a shower, changed and went to sleep. And it was because I slept early that I missed everyone using the inai on their fingers :(

Saturday, 13 December 2008

I witnessed my first korban (sacrifice) today. Eddie wanted to see it but had to go and pick up relatives who were arriving from Singapore. While I was busy packing the different door gifts with Maksu and Ijah, Hassan came rushing in, "Kak Anna, Abang Eddie suruh ambik video. Jom!" I took my camera and Hassan drove me to the nearby surau. All of Eddie's cousins (90% of whom are male) were heading off on motorbikes. When we reached, the cow was standing at the corner. It was almost time.

I'd never witnessed one before. Especially not this close. We (me, Eddie's half-sister and all his boy cousins) were crowded at one side waiting for the action to begin. I thought I'd be horrified, by the slaughter or the poor animal grunting and fighting in pain. But surprisingly, I wasn't. Just a little sad for the poor thing. I watched and took photos from when he stood till all that was left was his skin spread out on the ground and his innards laying next to the skin on the ground. A few hours later, I just made a face when Eddie brought me a bowl of sup lembu.

At 6.30pm, I was heading to the room to get ready. To my surprise, Imah was still in the room...not even an inch to being ready. I asked her why she's not getting ready. We had to be at the surau by 7.15pm. She said the make-up lady hadn't arrive. I took a shower. When I came back out, Ijah came to me and said that she was equally horrified when she saw her sister not getting ready yet. After some insistence and phone calls, Imah was in the bilik pengantin getting her face made up.

We were late. I was appointed as Imah's pengapit (did I spell that right?) since her girl cousin who was earlier appointed went MIA. At the surau, I sat with her on one side with all the other women. Every so often, Imah turned and said, "Macam mana ni, Kak Anna? Takut." I had to reassure her a couple of times before she started to calm down a bit. When she was asked to go sit next to Hidayat, she really panicked. She half stood, turned to me and said, "Jom la Kak Anna. Jom la." Half the women were saying follow her, the other half said let her go herself. I looked at Eddie. He was sitting as a witness to the marriage. He gave a slight nod that said, follow her.

It didn't take long. Between Imah panicking and seeing Ayah on the verge of tears, I saw Eddie looking stressed. He wasn't happy and wasn't ready to let his baby sister go. So I decided to smile my biggest smile while Qayum was taking photos. When it was done, Ayah went outside to take a breather. The tears couldn't hold much longer.

The night ended at about 11.30pm when Eddie decided to pass out in front of the TV as the guests were beginning to leave. Instead of staying there that night, I decided to stay at the motel that Ayah rented for his guests. Maksu shared a room and living hall with her husband and son, while I had a room (or bilik bujang) all to myself for the night. Ahhh...I managed to relax alone, take a long, hot bath, watch a bit of TV, charge my laptop, camera and phone. It was definitely a blessing in disguise that there happened to be a spare room for me to rest.

Sunday, 14 December 2008

Family members were all wearing green today, along with green pins to symbolise who the family members were. Guests started coming in the morning. Everyone had their roles to play. The men - Ayah, Paklong, Pak Mamat and Eddie - were greeting the guests. The women were guiding guests into the house or where to sit and eat, and to give the door gifts that we so painfully had to pack for two days.

Twice I was mistaken as the bride. Both times I would immediately say, "Tak, tak, tak. Pengantin ada kat dalam." And immediately Maksu would say, "Ini bakal isteri Zaidi." with that cheeky smile on her face. It didn't take long before everybody knew who I was. Eddie was happy. He was grinning from ear to ear throughout the whole ceremony.

When the ceremony ended and everyone had settled down, the boys were busy cleaning - after Eddie took the initiative to start clearing the tables. I settled down in between Umie and Maksu at the front of the house, having tea and tidbits. When Eddie had finished cleaning, he settled himself in the house and called me in. We finally had some time 'alone' (meaning that everyone was distracted with something else) and just sat and updated each other since we were both busy the whole day. It didn't take long for Paklong to come and joke around with us. It was also that moment that he took the opportunity to tell me that he has fully accepted me as one of his anak buah and understands why we've chosen to wait.

Eddie was grinning from ear to ear. Although there's picture proof during the actual akad nikah that shows Eddie's obvious dislike toward the matrimony of his sister and Hidayat, he was happy that he was there. That he was a part of it all. That his father and him have finally found a mutual understanding of how to communicate with each other.

It was also during this trip that I and his family have established my position. I am Kak Anna, Kaklong. I've developed some sort of strange bond with Paklong with him constantly joking with me during my three-day stay - it was his way of getting to know me. I've become Maklong's new anak buah and her 'kissing' bag - she loves to kiss my cheeks :) I've become closer to both his sisters and even felt slightly protective over Imah when I was saying goodbye to her and Hidayat - I'm afraid that he's going to hurt her or won't be able to care for her. I've been accepted as Kak Anna by Ijah - even though she's two years older than me. I've been accepted as the 'sporting' older type of sister by his younger siblings and his cousins. And I've been accepted as "bakal isteri Zaidi" by Ayah and Umie.

I'm just hoping that things will find a way to develop the way it has for me with Eddie's family in regards of him being accepted by my family.

Good luck, Sayang.

An obligation

2008-12-10T18:17:00.000-08:00

Thursday, 11 December 2008 @ 10.53am

I now understand why a lot of children (no matter what age they are) lie to their parents. I used to believe that honesty is the best policy. I used to discuss openly my problems with my father. This morning, I now think that honesty is not necessarily the best policy anymore.

Papa asked me how's work. Me, thinking that I should keep up this honest and open dialogue that I've had with him for the last couple of years, replied, "not good. I don't think it'll be for long." Immediately his face changes and he says the five words that I have long dreaded to hear, "You should've stayed at Trix."

I was horrified. It was 8.30am. I felt the rage enter me as I saw him shaking his head and his face saying, I knew it, you can't make it, you're a disappointment. I fired back saying it's the risk and challenge. And that I didn't want to rot at Trix with the pay that I was getting doing two people's jobs. And of course, I could see on the verge of his tongue he was about to call me rude. So I shut up. As he "advised" me on what I should do with my career, I decided there and then I will not be so honest anymore. The next time I'm asked how's work, my reply will be, "it's fan-fucking-tastic. I love having to work in an environment where I get the 'big' clients so they have someone new to attack and harass every single day. I love being the one who chase for quotations and rush off to meetings. I love having to sit in my corner not being able to participate creatively where I once was able to. Yes, it's fan-fucking-tastic because the money's better. So why the fuck should I care how I feel? Work like a fucking robot. Fuck that the six years spent in Melbourne and two years working experience is gone to WASTE."

Yes, I am extremely angry at the moment. I don't understand what it is. Not everything is about money. I understand that times are hard and it'll just get harder in the next coming years. But it's difficult to trust a 24-year-old who knows NOTHING right? What I say is shit. It amounts to nothing. I never seem to be able to make my own decisions. Everything I do I'm forced into doing it. Let's look back shall we?

I was forced into taking my Diploma of Mass Communications. I was forced into taking my Bachelor of Arts (Media & Communication). I was forced to work with Josh for two months before being forced into signing to work with Trix (as I remember correctly, Papa was also upset that I signed with Trix before discussing it with anyone). I was forced to quit Trix to try something new. I was forced to work with MA. I was forced to work part-time at Get Crafty. I was forced into doing Kostari. I was forced into buying my car... if you didn't notice, I was being sarcastic.

Have a read through again. Have I made some bad decisions in the last eight years of my life? Do you know what I was really almost forced into doing? Finance. Hah! I fought hard as fuck into getting the Diploma and degree of my choice. Gee, what a bad choice I made. And look at me now. Still a bad choice huh? Am I struggling? Am I dying? Am I not paying for my own car and bills?

Am I really doing something wrong here? People, talk to me. Enlighten me. I'm going to the edge. I'm about to LOSE IT! Is it wrong that I want to do something that's not rigid and traditional? Yes, money is important. It's an obligation. But should it rule your life? Should it dictate your every movement? I'm young. I'm literally working all the time. Money is ALREADY dictating my life. Should I still be reminded by it?

God help me.

hear me rant

2008-12-08T22:36:00.000-08:00

Tuesday, 9 December 2008 @ 2.43pm

Remember a couple a blogs ago when I wrote that my boss asked me if I dread coming to this job? If she asks me again, I will full-heartedly say, "yes, I fucking hate it." I feel useless. I feel like my brain is not being used to it's full capacity.

Typical day at MA:

9am - leave home.
9.15am - reach office.
9.20am - after putting my bag at my desk, go back down to get breakfast.
9.30 - 10am - eat breakfast and check email / facebook account.
10am - 1pm - service clients / answer queries from designers / argue with copywriter / meetings
1.30 - 2.30pm - eat lunch and read the paper ( 3 out of 5 times alone, while the other 2 times is just trying to make nice and building a relationship with colleagues)
3 - 7 to 10pm (unpredictable what time work finishes) - meetings / answer queries from designers / argue with copywriter / service clients
7 - 10pm - leave the office

I don't use my brain here. Yeah, they say you can put your ideas in. Just because I do doens't mean that the copywriter or AD or designer would use it. I used to be in control. I used to be able to express myself creatively and conceptually. Now what I do is media bookings, service clients, go for meetings, chase for clients to sign quotations, chase for clients to pay us for our service... last week, most of my clients were on leave. So was my boss and superior. I spent Thursday and Friday going online reading true crime stories.

I hear the desginers and ADs discussing the concept and ideas and I'm jealous. I used to be a part of that. I'm now just the go to person to find out what time the meeting is so they know when to prepare the mock up, and the go to person when they need a question answered based on client demands. Sigh.

I can't do this anymore. I'm not made for this. I cannot be JUST as AE. I can't. I feel helpless and useless. I DESPISE coming to this fucking job every single fucking day. And I DESPISE when I have nothing to do and the time go by so fucking slowly...

I've realised that's why I've been so enthusiastic about Kostari. With Kostari, I'm doing the actual physical work. My ideas are heard and discussed and implemented. So much so that I'm the one who has to do the presentation in front of potential sponsors and Datuks and Datins and blah blah blah. There, I'm useful. That's why I don't mind the meetings at night after this fucking job. Or meetings in the evenings after Get Crafty.

I've also realised that's why I don't mind working extra days and/or hours at Get Crafty either. There, I'm a useful CSR. I get to know the parents, build a rapport, sell packages (I've sold six in the last three days...hehehe). I'm also a useful teacher. Not only do I get to teach, I also get to create craft (you should see my ninja windmill - it's so cool).

Here, I'm...an AE. D'you know what I've been doing today? After a very brief WIP with my superior and the other AE, I've been going through allthe different newspaper publications in the last week looking for ads that are worth cutting out and filing. At lunch, I decided to go home and surprise the kids. They came running to me when I opened the door :) Now that I'm back from lunch at home, I'm ranting.

I gotta get another fucking job. One that actually makes full use of what I've been taught and trained to do. I was once half an editor and AE. At Get Crafty I'm half teacher and half CSR. And here...eeeeeeeeee.... I need another job. I can't be an AE anymore. I can't do it.

Follow-up

2008-12-04T02:29:00.000-08:00

Thursday, 4 December 2008 @ 6.40pm

So I got an update from Ina today. She was telling me that my old boss was pissed off with everyone taking leave and the general situation of the office. She was also updating me of how useless the remaining Editors are. Granted, one of them just couldn't care less and that's the way she's been since the first day I tried to train her. She just doesn't give a shit. The other one...my replacement...aiyyooo...

I don't want to butt in. I don't want to continue professing how good I was there (although I was - sorry, can't help it. It's true.) Before I left, I gave SPECIFIC guidelines. It was (and still can be if she bothered to use it) a step-by-step handbook to what to do there. In my words to her, "it's as though I'm holding your hand through the process - I just won't be there physically." I even gave her a forecast of what will be happening (job-wise and client-wise) until roughly around February 2009. Ina said Mr N asked her about a specific bank. Her reply? Dunno. Arghhh!! I told her to send an email. To call. To introduce herself. To follow-up!!! Did she do it? Obviously not.

My blog was created for me to rant and dammit, I'm ranting. Is it really that bloody difficult to take an interest? That bank has been a long-serviced client. As the agency, shouldn't we (sorry, I'm not 'we' anymore), I mean they follow up by calling and saying, "hey...shouldn't your newsletter be printed by now?" Hello?! Why did I waste my time spending HOURS teaching and training and briefing to two of the most useless human beings who dare to classify themselves as Editors? Why? Why? Why?

I don't want to care anymore. Really, I don't. But hello?!? It wasn't as though I left them in the lurch one day or disappeared into thin air. I told them. I warned them. I showed them. Do they listen? Do they care? No. no. no.

I don't understand this nonchalance that I keep hearing about by the both of them. Ina spent the whole of yesterday doing an Editor's job! What did the two 'useful' (said VERY sarcastically, mind you) Editors do? Read the paper! Ahahaha! Funny.

I will make this my last ever post about them. Because I've realised one thing - it won't change. That's who they are. And I don't think I wasted my time the last few weeks there with my briefs. I just see it as them losing out on some very valuable information.

Peace.

The first time

2008-12-03T17:49:00.000-08:00

Thursday, 4 December 2008 @ 10.25am

Why do Malaysian men think it's ok for them to call out, shout out and whistle at a woman as she walks by? Is it something built in their DNA to think that, hey, if I call her or say she's cute, then she's going to immediately jump into my arms. Dumbass.

I get no peace walking alone. There will always be the whistles, the cat calling, the looks... even by dirty old men who look like they could be my father!! Yuck yuck yuck yuck yuck. Why? I have seen men who would actually turn to continue looking at you. There was one time I was driving on the highway on the way to Sunway and this guy on a motorbike who actually kept driving ahead but turned his head all the way just to continue looking and smiling that dirty smile. He kept doing it for so long that he didn't realise there was a bend ahead. I started shouting to myself in the car for him to turn before he crashes and dies. The idiot turned in time and managed to turn to avoid burning in hell. But he just laughed. Arrgggh!! Most - not all - men do not have the capacity to use their brains to think that women actually prefer those who don't pounce on you. Especially if their in groups.

People always ask me how I met Eddie. When I answer, "In his restaurant," there's always this misconception that he did exactly that - whistled at me, called me a name and I immediately jumped on him. I even got this comment - "so one day customer, next day girlfriend?" Hello?! I am going to take this time to actually clear all misconceptions that Eddie is like one of those idiots and that I'm stupid and desperate enough to fall for him immediately.

The first time I met him was at Michelangelo's. I was with Steph. We reached at about 8pm. Kabir was attending a wedding dinner at a hotel nearby. We chose to sit at the bar. There were two staff that night who paid extra attention to us - F***** and Eddie. I didn't really notice either one of them at first. We were just being friendly. Steph and I, being the giggly idiots when we meet each other, continued being the giggly idiots throughout the night. We only started noticing that F***** was coming onto me after a few hours. Eddie was friendly but kept his distance for a bit. I admit, after a couple of hours, there was an attraction. I won't lie.

Kabir joined us at about...11-ish I think. When he came, he sat next to me. I was in the middle of the two of them. At this point, you can tell that F***** and Eddie were trying to figure out who Kabir belonged to. It was hard to tell but they knew one of us was with Kabir. Oh, before I continue, because we were sitting at the bar, it was easy for us to joke around with Eddie when he was behind the bar. Yes, Eddie. We tried to ignore F***** as much as we could. He's a sleazy, greasy guy who is the ultimate definition of those idiots who whistle and cat call that I was describing earlier.

As the night grew on, they found out that Steph was with Kabir and I was basically the single third wheeler. By about 1.30am, F***** was trying hard to get me - that was pretty obvious. Eddie was still cool about it, but was still friendly. When F***** wasn't around and Eddie was behind the bar, we spoke a little bit. What work I do. Where I usually hang out, etc. One thing led to another, and I gave him my card.

At 3am that same night, Steph, Kabir and I had shifted to sit at the outside table. F***** was getting desperate. He then leaned on the table and said to me, "Anna, let's go out. One date. I think you're gorgeous and blah blah blah." I smiled and said, "No thanks. I'd rather go out with Eddie." His reply? "Fine. Go out with him one night and me one night. Let the best man win." My reply? "I'm not that kind of girl. No thanks."

And just to be clear and to once again clear the whole misconception that I know most people will have of Eddie probably trying that trick before and that I was stupid enough to fall for it...well, there's nothing much I can say. Continue saying what you'd like. Nothing I say or do will change your mind anyway. We only went out a week after that and that was in the company of about eight of my friends. Trying to woo me was a tough task for Eddie. Falling for him wasn't in the blink of an eye either. But I can tell you this. It's been almost a year. I trust him. I know him. I love him. If you still want to find fault with that, go ahead. It'll go in one ear, and out the other.

The 'suit'

2008-12-02T23:37:00.000-08:00

Wednesday, 3 December 2008 @ 3.40pm

I moved my desk today. I no longer sit in the middle of the way where everybody walks by, sees what's on my screen, what I'm eating, what I'm drinking, who I'm talking to, etc. I also won't be interrupted by people wanting to use the scanner anymore. Nor will I have to sit and wonder who's going to collect the print out that's coming out of the printer next to me.

I now sit at a corner at the very end of the AE world, apart and away from the rest. It's better this way. I don't need to be so cautious of who's behind me and whether I'm in the way if I push my chair back. I now have a place to put my umbrella, store my files, my annual report samples, my brochures, etc.

I'm still adapting to being just an AE (I say just because I've always considered myself to be just half an AE at Trix). There's not much difference really being an AE between here and there. No actually, yes there is. I now have to drive myself around where once upon a time I didn't have to worry about that. I now have to handle the quotations and invoices and all that rubbish (I admit...I still don't know which comes first, DO, PO, I dunno...) And I now have to deal with the monetary side of things. I have to make sure that whatever we do is within budget. And I now have to justify why we're charging this or that amount.

Recently, I had a very important meeting with our very big boss, L, who also turns out to be the Head Art Director. I used to be terrified of him because he's the epitome of what women usually swoon over - tall, dark and handsome. I'm terrified because he's also very stern and very blunt. He's been in advertising for around or over 20 years. I don't remember. He doesn't like it, he'll say so. But he's actually alright. I just get terrified when I have to present work to him or discuss with him a meeting with our major client.

By the way, although I've only been at work here for about three or four or something weeks, I've already been placed to handle their BIGGEST corporate account. Their reasoning? "You know how to handle these people.", "You're detailed.", "You're corporate." Argghhhh!!! I've been trying so hard to avoid being a 'corporate' person, but yet have been moulded into one.

Ok, getting off track here... anyway, the big meeting. We were in L's room with all the other ADs doing a review of the work done so far. I actually called for the meeting because that was the only time we could catch L. He was brutal. But not to me. I, he called, 'the suit'. That was the first time that I've been called the suit and ever since then, I am now known as the suit. Granted, it refers to all the AEs. But it just seems to be directed more to me than the other two.

When I was in Trix, on days where I knew I had to go out, everyone would know because of the way I was dressed. Here, it's become my job to be 'that'. I still need to transform my mindset. Being an AE is no longer a part-time job where I have to meet clients once or twice a week, fortnight, month. It has become a part of my daily routine because I have become... the suit.

No life

2008-12-01T21:51:00.000-08:00

Tuesday, 2 December 2008 @ 2.03pm

I've just finished a tuna sandwich after having a two-hour discussion with three of my art directors. Before that, I was writing four job briefs for the discussion. Now, I have to follow up with client and handle another job. People used to tell me that if you enter advertising, you have no life. I used to think, 'rubbish. It all boils down to time management.' Boy, was I wrong.

Yesterday...I don't even remember yesterday. Ah yes... I walked into office, had non-stop meetings and arguments with my copywriter before rushing down to B2 to get my monthly pass just so I can quickly scoff down my lunch to rush out to DJ for my 4pm appointment. Oh yes, to top that off... my meeting ended at 6pm. I reached office around 7pm and spent just enough time following up with client on our meeting before rushing off to see Eddie (who naturally, was angry because I was late again).

I then went home, did my laundry and attempted to start Kostari. I feel so bad for Mrs N. I cancelled Monday's meeting and I'm trying to schedule in tomorrow. Shit. I hope I can finish off the manual and presentation tonight.

Eddie keeps telling me I need an assistant. And that I work too hard. And that I shouldn't do everything on my own. Call me an anal retentive control freak if you want. But if I don't do what needs to be done right, I can't sleep. I even dreamt about my meeting at Kostari last night.

Poor Eddie. I don't see him as much now. Or spend enough time with him now. I don't spend enough time at home either. And I don't see friends either (can you count working at Get Crafty on weekends as spending time with friends :P?)

Whoever started the phrase, "if you work in advertising, you have no life", is spot on.

A Test

2008-11-27T03:53:00.000-08:00

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.

A hell of a weekend

2008-11-24T19:22:00.000-08:00

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.

A tribute

2008-11-20T17:29:00.000-08:00

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.

Lost

2008-11-19T03:39:00.000-08:00

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.

I hope you realise

2008-11-18T17:27:00.000-08:00

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.

Jaywalking

2008-11-17T21:01:00.000-08:00

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

Culture Shock

2008-11-17T01:17:00.000-08:00

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

2008-11-16T18:50:00.000-08:00

Monday, 17 November 2008 @ 11.25am

I don't wanna be an AE.

Escape

2008-11-13T17:44:00.000-08:00

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.

He was called Sulaiman

2008-11-12T22:20:00.000-08:00

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.

Grow up

2008-11-10T19:19:00.001-08:00

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.

Overworked and underpaid

2008-11-10T07:07:00.000-08:00

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 ;)

AE

2008-11-06T21:10:00.000-08:00

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?"

Vulnerable

2008-11-02T07:48:00.000-08:00

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.

Thank you

2008-10-31T04:14:00.000-07:00

Friday, 31 October 2008 @ 7.39pm

Thank you for making an effort to improve yourself to make my life better.

Thank you for wanting to study back again.

Thank you for giving everything that I ask for and more.

Thank you for always being there for me when I need you.

Thank you for making funny faces at me to try and make me smile.

Thank you for making an effort with my friends.

Thank you for making an effort with my family.

Thank you for pushing me and allowing me to be a part of your family.

Thank you for loving Cutie as much as I do.

Thank you for loving Chubby as much as I do.

Thank you for treating I**** as one of the boys.

Thank you for loving me the way that you do.

Thank you for holding my hand when we're stuck in traffic.

Thank you for servicing my car.

Thank you for always wanting to be with me.

Thank you for all the times that you stand next to me against traffic when we're crossing a busy road.

Thank you for always wanting to feed me :)

Thank you for letting me be myself.

Thank you for teaching me things that I was always too shy or too afraid to ask.

Thank you for giving me a second chance.

Thank you for trusting me again.

Heartache and a stupid move

2008-10-29T18:46:00.000-07:00

Thursday, 30 October 2008 @ 10.57am

There are two things that I want to rant about now. The first involves personal feelings that I have been confused about in the last few weeks. And the second is the stupidest move that I have ever made in my 24 years of existence.

Heartache

I don't know why I feel this way. I don't understand it. You're there. Then you're not there. I'm with you but I feel alone. What the fuck is going on? It's hard enough to see you and when I do I don't see the point of it at all. WTF? WTF? WTF? Why bother meeting if it's just for you to read the paper and me a magazine? Or to watch TV and play games? We were supposed to have that talk. Have you forgotten? You'll never know how I feel because you never read this blog. And I'll never tell you how I feel because I'm fed up of being the one who initiates conversations.

You're pushing me away. And you'll never know that. There's someone else giving me more attention than you. But you'll never see. I'll never do anything to betray you but I feel like I already am. I cannot feel this way anymore. I won't tell you I wrote this. If you never read this, then you'll never know.

A Stupid Move

So I forgot that Palembang is in Indonesia. I'd already bought the ticket for Andre's wedding in July. Little did I realise that the day I purchased the ticket was also the day that my passport expired. No worries right? There's plenty of time to re-new it. Problem is, the flight is this Saturday and it didn't even occur to me that I would need my passport. It was only by a chance conversation that I was having with my father in the car that went something like this:

Papa (P): "So when are you going to Palembang?"

Me (M): "This Saturday."

P: "When are you going to Singapore?"

M: "January."

P: "Have you checked your passport? Make sure it's not expired."

M (frowning in confusion): "I'm going to Singapore in January. I've got plenty more time to worry about my passport."

P: "Hey! If you're going to Palembang this Saturday, make sure that your passport is not expired. If not, how are you going to fly out?"

I was silent. My brain was slowly beginning to understand. Palembang. Indonesia. Out of country. OH. It was only then that I got it. I need a passport to fly out to Palembang. Papa was still nagging to me about the passport. Ooopsss...sorry Andre!

So the point is...I'm not going to Palembang this weekend after all. Quatro anyone?

Mrs H

2008-10-28T19:33:00.000-07:00

Wednesday, 29 October 2008 @ 11.21am

In my almost two years working at Trix, I have had numerous meetings with Mrs H, the VP of Communications, and her subordinate, Ms I. They are one of our major clients, and one who has been with Trix for about ten or so years. So it's quite safe to say that they've been very happy with our service. Mrs H is very hands on with her work, be it newsletters, posters, buntings, or even a bookmark.

The very first time I met her was about a year and a half ago. I was a freshie out of uni and also a freshie at Trix. It was probably only my third or fourth time out of the office then. Ms I had specifically requested for me to come meet her upon Mrs H's request. When I first stepped into her office, she was sitting at her desk by the computer, busy typing away. She briefly looked up and said, "Oh hi Mr Loh" (obviously referring to my boss). She and Mr Loh have had a long relationship - they have been working together even before she joined this company.

When Mrs H first met me, she was friendly but a little cool, probably sussing me out. During that first meeting, I was sussing out her office. She had windows for her walls. And although the view was of houses and buildings, it's still a fresh relief than the cubicle that I was stuck in for nine hours of the day. She also had lots of pictures - of her and her husband, and of her children. There was one of her in the hospital, holding her newborn with her husband kissing her forehead. You could tell she was a well-to-do woman who was passionate about her job and loved her family.

It was only at our second meeting that I managed to impress her. It was also then that we started building a working relationship. But the only times that we would really communicate were during face-to-face meetings. When I was working on their newsletter/poster/bunting etc., I would only deal with Ms I. Mrs H was the VP after all. I have never been sure of what she thought about me. She's always been friendly and always wanted my opinion. But I would only ever see her during meetings. So it was hard to gauge what she really thought of me.

Earlier this morning, I received a call from Mrs H about the newsletter which is due to be printed by today so we could deliver by next week. Ms I was on leave for the rest of the week and it was the first time that I had to discuss the final comments of the newsletter over the phone with Mrs H. At the end of the conversation, she said, "Can I ask you something?" (I was a little nervous now).

"Sure," I said.

"Where are you going?" (she was referring to my new job)

"Mega Ads." I replied.

"What company is that?"

I explained. Her reply shocked and pleased me all at the same time.

"Ok. When you're there, can you present your company to me? Actually, wherever you go, can you keep in touch? I like working with you and I want to continue working with you."

After thanking her and saying that I would contact her next week once I've officially started my new job, two thoughts struck to me.

1. Wow. This woman actually likes me and I've actually done a good enough job for her to want me to keep in contact with her.

2. YES! I'll be bringing in new business for my new company on the FIRST DAY that I join (bonus, bonus, bonus) AND I have another client I can bring into Kostari (another 4 percent) *rubbing my hands deviously while laughing a satanic laugh*

Not only did I discover that I have been doing a good job during my time at Trix, but I've also discovered that my work ethics as well as my personality (a part of it anyway) was well worth it. Being called Boss No 3 has really paid off.

It's also quite safe to say that that conversation has made my day. Muaahahahahahaha ;D

Anak Datuk

2008-10-27T19:55:00.000-07:00

Tuesday, 28 October 2008 @ 12.05pm

I was folding Eddie's underwear when Frank Moore said, "You know Anna, honestly, I like you." I didn't freak out or think that he meant in a way more than a friend. He has Martha Moore after all. After stopping short, I continued folding and said, "Huh?" I didn't understand what he meant or where it came from. Then he said, "I like your style. Your personality. Even though you are who you are, you like to keep a low profile. You don't boast about who you know or who you are."

With a bewildered look on my face, I replied, "How else am I supposed to be?" Frank continues, "No I mean, I didn't even know who you are until we came here and we had to mention who your father is at the guardhouse. Usually, when I meet people like you, they wouldn't be the way you are." I immediately get defensive. "What do you mean the way I am?"

I actually already knew where he was going with it because I'd heard it a hundred times before. People meet me, they get to know me...then they come to my house. Then I get the "I didn't know you're 'anak Datuk'". When Frank said that, it was with such caution and it came out in almost a whisper. It was as though he was saying something taboo. People have always had an image of what an 'anak Datuk' should be like. Hell, even I know what they're like (I purposely say "they" and not "we" because I believe that I am anak Papa. He ain't no Datuk in my eyes).

The description of an anak Datuk goes something like this:

They are the epitome of labels. LV made the smart move of printing their name all over their products as anak Datuk's won't need to mention who they're wearing - it's right there on the bag. ALL OVER the bag.

They are arrogant and feel that they have the right and power to do and say as they please because they're father is a Datuk (eh, fuck you la).

They will only mix and mingle with those who are of the same standing. This is something I do not understand because I think it's bullshit. And it's this perception that I get the, "I didn't know you're an anak Datuk" line. I have anak Datuk friends. And I can safely say to you now that they have looked at me as though I'm some sort of alien because I have friends who are 'normal'.

They will ONLY speak English. Malay is forbidden and only used when forced upon them. They tend to forget that they themselves are Malay and have just as black an asshole as everyone else (I'm getting a little angry writing this. My apologies.)

They don't work because they have some sort of sick belief and thinking that their Datuk father will provide money to them for the rest of their lives (even when their Datuk father is no longer around). I have actually had looks of disgust by anak Datuk's when they find out I have a second job at Get Crafty. If their face could speak, it'd say, "Eeeeww... why are you doing work meant for minions?"

Kampungs are far away places that they don't want to be associated with. If they do, they will arm themselves with laptops and dvds and iPods to kill time instead of appreciating the life there.

Raya (or any other occasion for that matter) is a time to show off. It's a time to display new clothes and jewellery and the latest technological gadgets.

Granted, not everyone is like this and not every anak Datuk is this way. There are plenty of us out there (yes, "us") who work for their money, pay their own debts and help their fathers when he's getting older. But it's rare and it's sad to say that this stereotypical image of an anak Datuk is what is more widely known and used among society as they outnumber the rest of us.

I have nothing against Datuks - at least those who actually earn their way to get their title. I have no problem with these men and women who buy gadgets or houses and properties and "show it off". Hell, they worked their asses off and they earned it. The sad thing is, the Datins and the anak Datuks who are just long for the ride bitch and boast as though they are the ones who earned their way to a title.

I really hope that people and things will change. And I hope that one day people won't look at me and say, "wow, you're an anak Datuk and you're doing laundry." I'm not trying to say anything about our conversation that night Frank. It just got me thinking. You are probably the hundreth person to have said all those things to me and I always feel two things whenever I hear it. 1. I'm glad and I appreciate the fact that my friends have taken time to get to know me instead of wanting to know me because of who my father is. 2. Amused and a little sad. Amused because you all have a look that says, oohh...I have to be careful around her now (but thank God you all forget that and just treat me as normal). And sad because at the end of the day, I am and will always be...anak Datuk (*vomiting into a bucket*).

I wanna go hoommeee...

2008-10-24T04:22:00.000-07:00

Friday, 24 October 2008 @ 7.32pm

I've just whinged on facebook that it's Friday night and I'm still at the office and I'm going to whinge here too! It's my second last week at Trix and I've already packed and cleared my desk. I'd brought books to help me pass the time (when I'm not too busy disturbing designers or chit chatting with Ina) and I check my email and facebook account about 25 times a day now. And if you are a tiny part of the world that actually takes the time to read my blog, you'll notice that I'm writing more in my blog now.

Yes, I am THAT free. I thought I was though. Until I got stuck with training my replacement on how to organise, edit, and do the pagination of a newsletter. Sorry SuLyn. I'm not talking bad about you. It's just that BK has the tendency to come in when I'm about to go on leave, or it's the weekend, or that I'm actually about to leave Trix! They seem to be watching me and seeing that I might be a little free, have completed my other jobs and come and plonk this shit on me.

I enjoy doing BK. I really do. I get freedom to choose how many pages I want. What pictures I want to use and what the design of the page should look like. I also get to "direct" photo shoots where I get to turn some colleagues into models for a few hours. It's great fun. Just not when I'm planning to go start my weekend/holiday/leave/resignation!

Anyway, it's now 7.43pm. I'm still stuck here while SuLyn is working out the pagination. It's her first time so trust me, I'm gonna be here a while.

Carrot cake and a meeting

2008-10-23T18:08:00.000-07:00

Friday, 24 October 2008 @ 9.24am

I was happily rolling around in my bed and was just about to doze off last night when my phone rang.

"Yang, I'm downstairs."

Half happy and half grumpy, I quickly got dressed and went down to see Eddie sitting outside, smoking a cigarette and holding a bag that had two cakes in it.

"This is for you," he says when he hands me the plastic bag. I look in and he tells me there's carrot cake (which I'm happily eating as I type this) and a blueberry apple crumble type thing. He then immediately asks me what I wanna talk about (this is because I had earlier sent him an SMS saying, "I need to talk to you" - trust me, that line is scary for anyone to hear). I'm brushing it off, telling him that it's almost midnight and I'm already half asleep and there's a lot to discuss.

He then says that he's excited and in suspense to know what it is I need to discuss with him. I tell him that it has to do with our future and what needs to be done from here on out. He's all excited now.

"Ok, tomorrow I finish work at 10," he starts rambling. "We'll discuss it. Write everything you need to discuss. Write down a minutes of meeting. We'll have a meeting then!"

I'm giggling now. Saying that he's crazy trying to set an appointment with me just because I said I needed to talk to him. Oh well, at least I got a carrot cake out of it ;P

Rewards

2008-10-17T01:07:00.000-07:00

Thursday, 23 October 2008 @ 5.31pm

I found out today that my colleague put down a RM30,000 down payment for her car. My first reaction to that was, "Holy mother of God!" How did she manage to do this? By saving money! Sounds simple enough isn't it? She didn't get help from her parents. She didn't work three jobs (as I did when I was saving for my car) and she didn't rob a bank.

In the past, I have tried to save money every month - a little bit here and there and whenever I felt I could afford it. But then I realised that the reason why I cannot save as I'd like to is because of my lifestyle! My colleague managed to save RM30k because she is (as bad as it may sound) a miser. She's faithful to two things outside of work - going to the gym and her Japanese lesson classes. That's it. If she goes out, it's to the mamak where she's really able to save on food. She also has enough left over to go on holidays at least twice a year. However, when she does go, she will only spend on items that she feels are 'cheap' enough. If I saw a baju kebaya that costed RM200, I would take it into consideration, look at the material, label, etc. In the end, I'd buy it. She wouldn't.

I have spent ridiculous amounts on shoes (which I really shouldn't) and I've almost gone hungry for a month when I bought a handbag. But I feel that I've worked my ass off and I deserve some sort of reward. But how do handbags and shoes compare to RM30k for a car? I should really re-look into my whole belief on rewards. Hmm...Can I count books as a good reward? ;P

Smile

2008-10-14T20:34:00.001-07:00

I never knew how important one smile or one short burst of laughter can do to improve my day.

I just finished writing my depressing post entitled 'When you feel blue, remember...'. I was sitting here trying to start my work again when one of my designers came to my place. She was holding an empty container of what used to be the chocolate butter cookies that I brought for Raya. With a serious face, she said to me, "Still can re-fill ah?"

I think this was the first time in many weeks where I laughed out loud :)

When you feel blue, remember...

2008-10-14T19:48:00.000-07:00

I used to have strength. I used to feel confident. I used to laugh out loud. And I used to look forward to tomorrow. I've never felt weaker, more useless, lonely and sad in my life. I have this piece of paper on my wall that says:

When you feel blue, remember...

There are at least two people in this world that you would die for (I used to think it was worth it)

At least 15 people in this world love you in some way (Name me two)

The only reason anyone would hate you is because they want to be just like you (yeah right...)

A smile from you can bring happiness to anyone, even if they don't like you (I don't remember the last time I smiled)

Every night, SOMEONE thinks about you before they go to sleep (Name me one)

You mean the world to someone (doesn't feel like it)

You are special and unique (I used to think so)

Someone that you don't even know exists loves you (introduce me to that person please, I really need it now)

When you make the biggest mistake ever, something good comes from it (and then the bad things starts all over again...)

When you think the world has turned its back on you, take another look (no thanks)

Always remember the compliments you received. Forget about the rude remarks (what good is it going to do me now?)

I always say life goes up and down. When you're up, you feel like you're never coming down. And when you're down...wow, you really go down. I used to always feel confident and content because I would always have ONE thing in my life that keeps me going. I have never been in a situation where NOTHING is right. Before, when Calvin was an asshole, I had friends. Or when family was being shitty, I had work. Now...work is uncertain. Money is never enough. Family is constantly bickering. Friends are busy with their own thing and Eddie's work schedule SUCKS.

I used to read that and smile because I either had an answer after each one or I would agree with it. Now, I just turn away...

What now?

2008-10-10T02:48:00.001-07:00

It's come to a point where I cannot function. I cannot think. My mind is filled with so much nonsense that I find myself sitting here doing meaningless things while the pile of work continues to slowly grow higher and higher. I'm uploading photos on Facebook for a friend. I offered to because then that'll give me an excuse to pass time without having to use my head.

I'm thinking of money. How am I going to get my car serviced? How am I going to continue topping up petrol this month? I can't keep "borrowing" Papa's credit card. How am I going to pay my credit card bill? How am I going to afford a monthly pass for the new job? How am I going to top up my Touch 'n' Go? How am I going to save enough money to convert to Rupiah for Palembang at the end of this month? How am I going to find the money to get a gift for Andre? And how am I going to get another gift for Baiti's wedding present?

I'm thinking of family. When are things going to change? When am I going to finally get a peace of mind? When are people going to start helping out? When will I get to leave? And no, I will not delete any blogs from here on out. You don't like what I say? Stop reading my blog.

I'm thinking of friends. My boys :) You two are the laughter and joy who know what it takes to make me smile. But what's going on guys? I'm here for you. You should know that. My girls. When I need someone to call, to talk, to laugh with, to shop, to simply check out boys with, you're always there. All I need to do is call. But YOU. I never knew that something like this could happen to us. Things are different already and we both know it. I'm keeping quiet and keeping the peace because we have to go to the wedding together. But it's quite safe to say that things will definitely be different after that. How could YOU of all people do this to me? I feel betrayed. Yes, you've helped me. I've helped you too. How and when did things change? Of all the headaches that I have now, YOU are the one who's giving me the biggest one. After all we've been through...*sigh*

I'm thinking of work. Things are uncertain now. Me, an AE? Really? Yeah I can do it. But to be a full-time AE? Really? And to get fired before you're even hired? Talk about kicking me when I'm down... what do I do now? I look at the Classifieds everyday. But I don't know what job to apply for. I see copywriter and this fear of being told you're not good enough creeps up on me. I look at Editor and think really? Are you capable anymore? I don't know what I'm looking for anymore. I once thought that I was a writer. Now I'm not so sure anymore.

I'm thinking of Eddie. Bila? Tahun depan? Can we? Yeah, we're saving money. But it's never really enough is it? *sigh*