Punk Chopsticks

The day of the Nuffnang Blog Awards

2012-01-06T10:40:00.002+08:00

(Yes. I'm finally only now posting this. So sue me.)

Wow where do I begin?

First off, I'm extremely, super, muchos very sorry for

1) Not replying to every comment like I used to. So now that I've been caught in the act (thanks a lot, Ben) the stalking must resume.

2)Taking too long a time to post. This blog has been a bit slow mainly because college has just started and I'm taking too much time being a freshman and getting lost and being awed and watching the entire Dr Who 6th series and missing home to do anything substantial.

In fact, class is just about to begin so I'll try to make this as short as possible. (Btw Vince, you've heard this story so there's really no point to continue)

[Warning: May contain sushi and dressing up like a hoe]

At first, I was wondering if I should write about this.

You know what they say about jinxing a run of good luck. But then I thought about it and No, dammit! Einstein's lost (And possibly eaten, the poor idiotic feline), I officially have no social life, no love life and now, no kitty to love forever and ever.

All I do have is this blog (That sounds...pretty sad. Even for my standards) and in a few hours, a college life being surrounded by girls ten times prettier and more elegant than either I or Einstein will ever be.

That's okay Einstein, we have nice teeth.

Also, I realize that I've never actually blogged about my day at the Blog Awards. But that has more to do with me being a lazy ass than any deep insecurity issues.

This is me, waiting for a train that's half an hour late. But you don't want to hear that. What you really want to hear is where I'm going. Ok, so maybe that's not what you want to hear but WAIT! Here's a picture of a cute bunny.

Please forgive me.

My bunk bed inside the train

Forgive the horrible lighting. Here's a sexy thigh

Le nerd in the morning

Arriving in KL after 9 hours of crappy train travel

It was 6 a.m. by the time I arrived at KL sentral and I'd barely slept a wink (Sleeping next to the car door - That freaky, empty space of tracks and cogs between two cars - is a lot like taking a nap in the middle of a marching band).

I got to my aunt's house at around 7 after taking my breakfast at McDs. She wasn't around by then - probably somewhere in the middle of the honking mess that is KL's rush hour traffic - but I had the keys to the apartment.

Or so I thought. (Cue big super melodramatic cymbal crash)

The door? It was locked. So I used my keys and...it was still locked. In fact it was so superbly locked that it stayed that way for half an hour while I tried every other key on the bunch. Twice.

Then I tried banging (on the door), and knocking, and finally by the time I got to my knees, begging and pleading, we started to have a nice conversation, the door and me. Didn't really say much though.

After half an hour the decision was pretty clear cut - Either I stayed that way the rest of the day, waiting and door chatting until the evening when Vince would pick me up and take me to the blog awards, or I did something about it.

So I knocked on a random neighbor's door. This could go two ways I figured. Either a) It's a sweet Chinese twenty-something girl living alone or b)A burly 40-something year old guy with a mean face and nunchucks and a nifty scalp collection.

The twenty-something girl opened her door. (Ah well, I was really looking forward to seeing that scalp collection) Could I pretty please use her shower? I asked, in my sweetest 17 year old, seemingly innocent Chinese girl voice. Sure, she said. And I've never been more grateful to be a 17 year old seemingly innocent Chinese girl.

After that, she offered to give me a ride to Sunway Pyramid, the nearest mall there. Since it was still crazy early, nothing was opened yet except Starbucks. DRINK ALL THE COFFEE!!!

This is Ben.

He plays a pretty big role in my story.

So Ben asks me where I'm from.

Kedah, I say.

What a coincidence, says he, I'm from Kedah too! What are you doing in KL? He asks, To study?

No. I say, I'm here for an event.

Funny thing says he You might be here for the same event as my wife.

Now you really don't need to guess where this is going.

The girl on my left (your right) is Gloria. She has beautiful hair, a beautiful soul, much better skin (than mine) and was going to the Blog Awards as well! (Mother of all mother of coincidences) We got to talking about how hard it is to go anywhere in Kedah and how much we love books and reading and actually thinking. Then before I knew it, Ben and Gloria were inviting me to have lunch with them.

Uh...Ben? They're taking pictures of us

That's because they're bloggers. It's what bloggers do.

How do you know that?

I married one.

No silly, we shamelessly ask people to take pictures of us too.

This is good. i don't know what it is, but it's really, really good.

MINE! Omnomnomnom

Afterwards when I tried to pay for my meal, Gloria and Ben refused. It's on me, said Ben. Allegedly, I was still a student and they were working and I wasn't earning any money yet and they were good people. But my guilt conscience was too strong. Still is too strong. And since I can't stalk them down and track their house and return the cash, give me a few seconds to do this.

Visit Bonjour Glow!!!

And if you do visit their blog, tell Gloria and Ben I said hi and thanks for the nice lunch and that I'll never forget them for being such friendly, nice people. (Who were initially strangers and the became more)

We went to their hotel - whilst Ben went to watch his poor friend getting braces - and got ready for the Blog Awards.

Oh Gloria, you do look ever so pretty

If you'll notice, I've got an overbite that sticks out when I smile.
The shame.

Class is starting now so I'll post this first half up first for now.

Stay in touch for the second half:

[Come over to my hotel. or Should I go clubbing? or Winning free stuff. or The perfect end to a perfect day.]

Also, Malaysian readers will stand a chance to win 300 Ringgit Dermalogica vouchers so keep your eyes open for that too. *Inserts smiley face here*

Have...you seen my pussy?

2012-01-04T20:06:00.000+08:00

Cat?

Come on...you know you saw that coming.

Remember Einstein?

She was in my Nuffnang Blog Awards, here I come. post.

Now I better point out that I'm not much of a cat person. They've always seemed too cold for my liking. Too calculating, too apathetic... too not nice. So it only seems perversely fitting that I'd find myself the owner of one. Thanks, by the way, god.

Meet Einstein. We found her one day crying outside our house compound. When I went out to check, there she was. Trapped in the drain outside.

So I picked her up, dusted her off and set her to dry.

Five minutes later, she's crawled back into the drain.

Again.

And again.

Finally after some consultation (aka begging and pleading) with my even bigger cat hater of a mom, she let us keep it.

EInstein's done some pretty smart things, like discovering the speed of light as a new absolute, or coming up with the formula E=mc2. But our EInstein? Nuh uh. No way. She's about as blunt as a hammer. For the first week after she started living with us, we had to box Einstein up 24-7 because she kept wanting to sneak out and play with Spotty, the Doberman.

And now she's gotten herself lost.

It's been two weeks already and I fear I'll never see Einstein again. We call out for her everyday and even Spotty's helping in the search - he's gotten quite fond of the kitty. If anybody near Sungai Petani sees a kitten that looks like the one above, you know who to call.

Bythe way, sorry for the misleading title.

To make up for it, here's a picture of me naked.

Okay, no seriously.

Here's a picture of me nakedbelow the belt.

Go back to work, everybody.

You sick, sick bastard

2012-01-02T11:32:00.002+08:00

Muchas gracias to the interesting and outspoken Sam Insanity for bringing this to my attention. You should go check out his blog. It's awesome. Seriously. Back yet? Good.

So if anyone's been reading the paper recently, you've probably seen this in the Dear Thelma advice column:

Two days ago, an undergraduate confessed that he'd been sleeping with his granny regularly...

After being caught masturbating in his room....

And then after she passed away...well, I'll just let you read it for yourself.

[Sick perverseness begins Here]

[lock up the kiddies, parents.]

[And while you're at it, you better lock up the grannies too]

Guilty secret with granny

I AM an undergraduate at a public university and am currently in my final year. I have a dark secret that’s consuming my life. I can barely keep up with my studies and I’ve been failing a number of papers. Despite support from my family members and girlfriend, I still ended up failing. I feel really lost.

I come from a very strict and conservative family. If my family members find out about my secret, they will be greatly disappointed. I’m troubled but have nobody to turn to.

It all started back when I completed my final STPM paper. I was masturbating in my room and had forgotten to lock the door. Halfway through, my grandmother opened the door to call me for dinner and caught me in the act. I was shocked to see her and quickly pulled up my pants. She just kept quiet and walked away.

I felt dirty, disgusted, guilty and ashamed of myself. After the incident, I always felt awkward whenever I saw my grandmother, but seeing her was inevitable as we lived under the same roof. Things became worse a few months after the incident.

One day, after my parents and had siblings had gone out, I had to help grandmother prepare dinner. As we were talking, she kept saying how much I resembled my (deceased) grandfather when he was young and how much she missed him. There was a long pause, after which she gestured me to her room. I had a feeling I knew what was going to happen, but curiosity got the better of me.

I cannot remember much after this. I knew it was wrong, but I proceeded anyway. It lasted no more than five minutes and I quickly left her room after that. It was all very confusing, but that did not stop me – I started having sex with my grandmother regularly after that.

She passed away recently and I sank into depression. I cannot concentrate on my course and my relationship with my girlfriend has been affected. Every time we attempt to have sex, I just cannot perform and she is getting impatient.

My grades are failing, my girlfriend is frustrated with me, my family is disappointed with me, and I still fantasise about my grandmother. What I should do? Should I be honest with my family about this?

- On The Edge

[Sick perverseness ends here]

My money lies on a hoax.

Probably by some sick teenager who gets a kick out of freaking out poor advice columnist ladies in mumus.

This.
Is a mumu.

But since he (or she. Just to be politically correct here) came up with the time and effort to put a dose of ludicrousness into our daily lives (as if our politicians aren't doing enough of that already. But more on that next time), I figured I owe it to the guy to give my own advice.

Of course, you can always see the real response Thelma gave on The Star's official website.

But seriously, where's the fun in that?

Dear On The Edge,

You evidently need a lot of help if all you can accomplish is five minutes with your own grandmother (And lets be honest here, it probably wasn't even five was it?). But lucky for you, I happen to be a professional advice columnist at The Moon, Malaysia's latest newspaper. It also sounds like gullible if you say it really....reaaaaalllllllyyyyyyyyy slowly.

Firstly, you've been reading way too much 4chan. Get off the page. Nobody's actually posting there anyway.

Secondly, you need to get a life. If the first thing you did after finishing your final STPM paper is jack off, then I'm sorry, but you are a loser. People your age are out there partying, getting wasted and generally having a good time and I suggest you do the same. That is, of course, unless nobody invited you. Which may have something to do with your resembling your dead grandfather.

Unfortunately, I have no advice on how to cure ugliness. I do however, have a paper bag with me. It's very useful.

Thirdly, and lets just cut to the chase here, you don't really have a girlfriend do you? Because if you did, you wouldn't be spending all your time on 4chan, whacking off, and writing bogus crap letters to the newspaper. Hooray for you though, if you plan on continuing along your path of thinking up lame hoaxes.

It is also in the opposite direction of a vagina.

Still, good for you.

Love, Punk Chopsticks

A hoax or the real deal? You tell me.

[Final joke]

A very quiet new year's eve

2012-01-01T02:13:00.000+08:00

Like I've said before in the past, I'm not really much of a party girl.

Which makes my life...a little less awesome. But hey, awesome's too overrated anyway.

"Babe, I just cleared the sink"
"Awesome!"

"Hey, check out this awesome paper on colonoscopy"

"Dude, why the hell do you do that?"
"'Cause it's awesome"

Basically, the word Awesome can be applied to anything. Even the mold growing between gramma's toes. (Dude...that thing is so gross it's awesome) Call me old fashioned but I wouldn't want to be compared to granny's foot cheese.

So yesterday - being New Year's Eve and all - instead of heading to Auto City for some down time partying, I called some of my closest friends for a pot luck at me mum's kindergarten. It was a small (And I mean small small. Like, four people small), quiet affair. We had our mashed potatoes and jellies and noodles and as the clock struck 12, toasted each other in pretty pink plastic cups of Coke.

It was a perfect New Year's Eve.

Because it wasn't just the end of a year for us. It was the end of one part of our lives and the beginning of another. I'll never wake up at 6 am again, dancing in my jammies getting ready for school. Or have dinner with my family every night. I'll never go back to my bedroom again and feel the same kind of warmth I did when I was six and believed that my blankets would protect me from the monster under my bed.

College starts on the 7th but I'll be moving into my new dorm on the 5th. That gives me about five days to go around yum cha-ing with all my old friends and figuring out what I want to do with my life.

That also gives me time to start thinking about the people I want to surround myself with. I've made a lot of five minute friends during my stint in KL. You know the type: Fun, party goers, fantastic to be around and there for about.....Oh, say....five minutes. Then they're gone. Like fireworks. And all that's left is darkness. (Woah. Woahwoahwoah. Talk about sounding emo)

But still, they're great to be around. Just not the kind of people I'd want to enter a new part of my life with.

So I called up the Nerd Herd + 1 (+1 being Raul Dhillon) and asked if they wanted to spend the countdown at me mum's kindergarten. It's a huge building filled with interconnected rooms and dolls sitting on shelves staring back at you. (Okay...so maybe not exactly the best place to be at 1 a.m.)


(Warning: geography content. In the Island of Dolls, Mexico, islanders hang dolls on trees to appease the spirits)

These guys have been with me throughout the crap and the crappier and I figured, who better to spend the night the last few hours of the year planning our future?

We were just a bunch of dumb teenagers talking about life, religion and politics, trying to figure out our way in life. But it was a sweet dumbness. I didn't care if half of what we said was shit, at least it wasn't bullshit. At least it wasn't the crap you learn to tell each other the older you get. It was an innocence I'm starting to realize that not everyone can keep as the grow older.

I pulled out sheets of paper and huge, kiddie crayons and as cliche as it sounds, we started writing down our new year resolutions together. Then as the clock struck twelve and year 2011 slipped away, we clinked our glasses together, took another sip of Coke and all I could remember thinking was thank god I'm not in a club, surrounded by people, dancing, drinking. Because something told me that I'd be lonelier than I would have been by myself. (But that's just me, heh.)

From top clockwise: Headless lil' me, Endu the sweet nerd, Abby the emo perfectionist and Raul the philosopher.

Here's to the new year.

Here's to 360 more days of chasing our dreams and mending broken hearts

Here's to a faulty camera angle cutting off half my face.

And here's my question:

How do you know which people are your true friends?

5 fascinating facts about sex

2011-12-30T17:01:00.001+08:00

1. Sex CAN help you fall in love

Close your eyes, little kiddos

Throw everything your mom told you about sex and love being two completely different things.

According to Susan Kuchinskas, Author of The Chemistry of Connection, “Nature designed sex to forge those bonds of love. During sex, men and women release the bonding chemical dopamine—it’s a highly potent combination that not only makes you crave more sex, but actually ties that craving to your partner.”

Not confused yet? Good.

“Dopamine is the key chemical,” explains Susan. “It makes males repeatedly seek reward. The longer they go without reward, the more they repeat attempts to get it—and repetition forges a strong connection.” For women, however, oxytocin is the primary love glue, stimulated by touch, trust, and being protected. The longer you hold back from actual intercourse, the more the trust can build—and the more oxytocin gets released via all the lovely touching.

Go figure.

2. In certain countries, women are allowed to kill their husbands.

I Kung Fu you back to China, you cheating bitch

In Hong Kong, women are legally permitted to "do off" their spouses if the men are caught cheating - but only using her bare hands.

The Other Woman however, is completely at the wife's mercy. Regardless of her weapon of choice.

3. Guys looking at guy porn actually produce more sperm

Alien guy...watches porn!!!

A study has shown that men looking at porn of two men and one woman produce more sperm than men who look at just women.

Scientists figured that watching other men doing the deed steps up their own baby-making capabilities.

4. There's prostitution in the animal kingdom too

Humans aren't the only ones to sell their bodies apparently.

Believe it or not, in the wild, certain female penguins will exchange sexual favors with male penguins for the pebbles to build their nest even if they're already in a relationship. According to Dr Fiona Hunter (a zoologist): “It tends to be females targeting single males, otherwise the partner female would beat the intruder up.”

And if that isn't interesting enough, there are times when the female penguins would carry out their elaborate courtship ritual and as soon as they bag their stones, dash off. Sounds familiar?

5. Sperm is good for your skin

Is that...oh god...really?

This caught my eye in particular since I have pretty bad skin. When sperm is left to dry on skin, it evaporates to leave behind proteins which help prevent wrinkles. Besides that, they also have a tightening effect which reduces the wrinkles you already have.

The only downside is that you'll have to walk around with sperm on your face.

11 points of randomness to ponder

2011-12-29T17:30:00.000+08:00

Sometimes people ask me really mind bonging questions...

Like, if it's a shoe store, why do they call it Nose?

(Answer: Because they both run)

(You know...noses...and shoes)

(Oh, you do get it)

Take Nana for instance. She's one of the friendliest, nicest, sweetest bloggers I've met ever since I was just a wee naive blog girl (Oh come on, you know you are too! Friendly, nice and sweet I mean. Not the naive blog girl part. But you can be if you want...and have boobs.)

So Nana tagged me a few days ago and I am now compelled to answer 11 ridiculously theoretical questions. Why the heck not, right?

1. If someone held you at gun point, what would be your first thought?

"If I wet my pants, they will find me here. Dead. With pee in my trousers. *Must hold it in*"

2.And if they ask you 'Any last words?' What would it be?

Can I go to the toilet?

3. What animal do you think best represents you and why?

Gee I don't know, but I sure do love Elephants. (You can save them here)

4. Is there any animal you wish you could keep as a pet?

Huh...either a Siberian wolf or a hedgehog. Sam has a hedgehog and I'm jealous as hell. I also wonder why he never named it Sonic.

5. Name one thing you vowed never to do but kept on doing anyway

Pick at my pimples. The shame.

6. Name me one blog you always visit because it's your favorite

Yours!!!

7. Did you manage to complete this year's resolution?

No. Hah!

8. Do you have a new year's resolution or are you just reusing old ones?

Recycle. It helps save the planet.

9.Have you ever met me? What's your first thought when you saw me?

I haven't lah, sayang. Somebody couldn't attend Nabpas xD

10. Do you act, sing or dance?

Yes. Not well.

11. What is your biggest fear ever?

Initially it used to be zombies but now I'm terrified of turning into Forever Alone Guy.

My turn to tag eleven people!!! (Muahahahaha...) I couldn't narrow my list down so I just chose the last few people who commented on this blog.

So if your name happens to be

Vince (Because I love reading the hilarious crap you come up with)
Joshua (Just another word to the nerd)
Cal (Your awesome beard prompted me to put down your name)
Anne (Let me climb into your attic)
Matthew (You know you want to do this)
April(Chickenzunited) (Draw lots of pretty pictures for me okay?)
Kirsten (Elissiam) (Because we're online lesbian wives)
Eric Lee (Because I never got the chance to meet you at Nabpas)
Suresh (Just humor me please)
Ben Ditty (I know it's not a poem but...)
DWei (Because your blog never fails to make me laugh)

Riddle me this:

1. If you could ask God (or Santa Clause) one question, what would it be?

2. When did you start/stop believing in God/Santa Clause?

3. Why?

4. When was the last time you cried?

5. What was the stupidest thing you've ever said?

6. Do you think you're awesome?

7. Do you think your friend's would call you awesome?

8. Pick one word that describes you then pick the opposite. Does that word describe you as well?

9. You're stranded on a desert island. Name the one thing you'll bring.

10. The one person you'll bring.

11. Are you my friend? Do you want to be?

Go forth, my brethren.

Broga Hill on a very Buddist Christmas Morn

2011-12-29T12:48:00.000+08:00

It pains me to say this, but you have been deceived.

It's true. You have been misled and tricked and - although it wasn't necessarily intentional - lied to.

You see, in the last post, I put up pictures and pictures of a glamorous life where I attended blog awards and laser tag tournaments and events and won lots of cool stuff.

Because I wanted to look cool.

But the truth is, that wasn't really my life.

This is.

And it's so sad.

So I couldn't really be surprised when the going out at night with friends stopped and the going to Buddhist camp started.

They say that you can take the girl out of the country but you can't take the country out of the girl, which, in a way I suppose, rings true. I mean, who was I kidding? I don't drink. I don't even like drinking. But there I was, sitting like a lou sai, drinking Coke like a boss.

Give me a book. Give me a nice guy. Give me, maybe, some hot chocolate on Christmas morn.

Where were you on the big Xmas morning?

Oh, me? Shucks, you shouldn't have asked.

I was here.

Me and a total of 33 other participants of ages 12 to 17 (Yes. I was the oldest. *Sob*) attended the Nalanda's Institute Young Person's retreat on the 23rd of December. Of course, I only realized afterward that I wouldn't be spending Christmas Eve partying. But HEY, at least I didn't spend it alone. Right? Right?

Bhante Amaranatho [Our monk in charge (What else can I call him?)] being the awesome dude he was -

This is him, by the way

- decided that staying indoors was too depressing for Christmas. So we loaded ourselves onto a bus and headed to Broga Hill at after breakfast.

I'm not going to lie.

I was pretty pissed at having to do any form of exercise at that hour (This is what staying in Kuala Lumpur does to you, little kiddies). Pissed, and tired as fug.

The night before, me and the more rebellious teens had ourselves a little Christmas eve party of our own. I won't go into details, but it ended pretty late.

But then we saw this:

As we climbed higher, the trees and typical Malaysia shrubbery just fell away to this beautiful sea of long grass and cattails.

You don't see this kind of scenery in a tropical country everyday. You just don't

Bhante looking all mellow and monk-ish in his robes and awesome hat

If you can't spot me, I'm sorry but you're very blind.

On the way down

The night before, I was thinking about this crush I had on a guy I liked. Sort of. And it bugged me how much it bugged me (if you get what I mean).

Because I used to be happy until I met him.

Then I became even happier and even more depressed. And sucky. And the ups and the downs and the round and rounds.

What the fug man? I'm supposed to be in a Buddhist camp and all I could think of was Why hasn't he replied my text yet? Do I look like just a kid to him? Oh god, great. Now I feel ugly and stupid. Which is something a girl (Or a guy) should never think.

At the peak of the mountain, we had a short session for meditation and everyone kind of scattered off in their own directions to find a comfy spot of their own.

There is this beauty in just sitting and closing your eyes. In the sound of grass rustling one after the other like they were passing on a secret. In the ground pressing against my ass. In the wind blowing against my face and hair. The comfort and the discomfort.

That's when I finally arrived.

Even though my eyes were still closed, I could sense the people around me. They were all locked in their own world just like how I was in mine. But we were breathing the same air. Sitting on the same grass. And even though I couldn't exactly see them, I felt more connected than I ever had with anyone at that moment.

Because right then, I wasn't with anyone else.

Then I heard it, this voice. And it said I'm here

I don't know where I heard the voice from, but it was the kindest, most loving voice I'd ever hear and my heart sort of gave a jolt. That was the happiest I'd ever felt in a long time. The feeling you get when you meet an old friend, the closest of friends, after a long time. I was hugging that feeling in my heart.

I didn't have to think about the past, because really, he was in the past. Or the future. And just thinking about the fact that I didn't have to think about them was beautiful. The rest of the camp just flew by after that.

But look at me, talk about getting sappy and going off topic.

We had our own Facebook wall for posting crap

Or wisdom

Or to ask questions

We practiced for our drama (Where I had to play a blond bimbo)

Putting together pieces of the puzzle


A big hand to the facilitators who helped shut us up when we needed silence the most. (From left: Vincent, Do, Jean, Rachel and Paru.)

That night, after being ~~blackmailed~~ oh fine, persuaded by Alisha, I decided to call said crush just to know where we stood. He said...

Oh gosh, this is mortifying

He said no.

Nope. Nada. Neh, Next time perhaps.

It stung, of course it did. But not as much as I expected. Life goes on, I have incredible friends. And he's a really nice guy when it comes down to it.

Also, it helped that I had 12 other people listening in to the conversation (Heh heh heh. I'm a coward like that.)

*Oh yeah and if anyone's interested in joining next year's camp, you can always add Nalanda's facebook profile or Bhante Amaranatho's

Till then, Ciao!

The not so blessed party girl

2011-12-27T16:40:00.000+08:00

Okay

So I haven't really been blogging as often as I'd like to. But the important thing being: I would have LIKED to.

I was just too busy living my life in Kuala Lumpur, doing things like...

Attending the Asia-Pacific Nuffnang Blog Awards

Looking all hot and dapper and so not me with Vince and Sam

(Who's pictures I stole. Heh Heh.)


Making puffy fish faces

(Like this)

Meeting the illustrious Xia Xue

Getting sick of puffy fish faces

Attending the Puma Social Finale Party @ Cosmic Bowl

Joining a random dance off


Trying to pull off my pathetic dance moves (This is the best you'll get since I din't let Sam post any pictures of me actually dancing shivers)

Going wild with the crowd

WINNING (Actually winning)

Meeting my Public Speaking MACHAS

And then hiding from them

Playing laser tag...

...LIKE A BOSS

Did I feel like I was blessed? HELL YEAH.

At least until I was told I was going to join a Buddhist Meditation camp held by Nalanda entitled "I am blessed".

I did not want to go to a Buddhist Camp. I did NOT want to leave my friends and my new, super fun KL life. I did NOT want to meditate every day.

I did not feel blessed. Not at all. Not me.

But that's a whole other story altogether. I guess I'll save it for the next post. So hold your horses kiddos. As old aunt Clarissa starts warming up her Blogging Fingers and gets ready to tell you

How I ended up wanting to become a nun. (But that's for later)

Till then, Ciao!

Full moons, bitches, money and oil massages. My last day in Koh Lipe, Thailand

2011-12-14T18:59:00.000+08:00

[Caution: The following post has exceeded the recommended length for those with short attention spans. Boredom may ensue. Read at your own risk. And for those who didn’t give a shite in the first place, dropped by to leave their link, feign interest, get my hopes up and leave, just…just go you, you meanies]

So.

Two days ago was a full moon eclipse.

It was awesome. It was epic. It was definitely better than a movie of a similar name.

Where were you when it happened?

Question aside (you can tell me later), when the full moon eclipse happened, I was here:

That's me

Looking at this:

Take THAT Bella

And it was awesome.

The sky, streaked in purple and blue like swathes of cloth. The sound of waves hitting the shore, roaring, whispering. The cool press of bamboo against my back. The moon as huge as a silver dollar hanging in the sky and of course, the sound of my brother cursing at me, practically near to tears.

"Why the fuck did you have to say that??? Whats wrong with you, why couldn't you have kept your mouth shut. Now you're making me feel bad, dammit!!"

"You know you wouldn't feel bad if there wasn't anything to feel bad about."

"Shut up, just SHUT UP"

"That's not fair, look-"

"I said SHUT UP, BITCH."

But once again, I'm getting ahead of myself. Heh. I guess in order to fully understand what the flying fug is going on, I'd have to start from where I left off in the last post [Check it out here].

So in the end after scouting the entire island, we did find a place to coop up for the night. A very, very nice place in fact. The only problem with it was that we had to trek the ten meters up The Slope (Don't know what The Slope is? That's probably 'cause you didn't read that last post huh, bub?) in order to get there.

That, coupled along with the twisty turny, up-and-downy nature of Walking Street (Remember: the road goes ALL the way up and down the island), made for a lot of walking in the sun, especially to get to and from our hotel.

One reason why this is a bad thing is because as an Asian, I don't like the sun. I don't like walking in it, sitting under it or, heaven have mercy, taking off my bikini and lying under it. Unfortunately, because my plans of filling the bathtub with SPF infused lotion and taking a bath every five minutes didn't sit too well with my dad, I ended up with a horrible tan just one day before I'm leaving to Kuala Lumpur for the Blogger Awards.

Ah well, at least I'll have buns of steel. And nice teeth, there's always that.

The first time I saw Amanda, our hotel manager, she was sitting in front of a chalet, painting what looked like a wooden board with the name of the hotel on it and I was thinking "This can't be right, first off, she's white."

But it was right. And yes, she was white. Amanda and her partner, Christian, hail from Barcelona, Spain and decided one day (Five years ago to be precise) that they wanted to visit Thailand on a whim. That trip turned into another trip the next year. And the next. And the next. And soon, they became chummy with the owner of the hotel they were living in - Krom.

So Krom had a proposal for them. Why not open up another branch of his small hotel on another side of the island? He'd provide the land and they could help run it to garner revenue and lengthen their stay on the island.

Geek points to whoever can figure out the inspiration of the name

Amanda and Christian were ecstatic, and so was Krom. But before I go on, I want to make one thing very very clear, these three peoople were the nicest, warmest, friendliest people I met on the island. Case in point:

After we checked their place out, my dad wanted to talk shop.

"So how much is the rate?"

"600 baht per night." She answered smiling. She's got this smile that could light up an entire room. It's bright, it's boundless, it's got none of the edges or limits you see in most people Oh I'm smiling all right, but not too much or else you'll think I'm easy. Don't want to spoil my photo. It makes my nose look big. I don't really like you. None of that crap. Oh no.

But I was a hesitant. Our family isn't on the rich end of the money making spectrum per se. Which is why you don't see me writing awemazing lifestyle posts about clubbing or meeting celebrities or how to dress fantastic or where I eat and shop and pee like the rest of Malaysia's famous bloggers. My parents just don't have the moolah. Plus I've got college to worry about next year.

"Can it go any lower?" My dad asked.

Amanda shook her head apologetically "I'm sorry, no. Only if somebody stays three nights."

"And if we stay two nights?"

"I'm sorry, really, it cannot go any lower."

My dad grinned, or at least I think he was grinning, and turned to us. "So what do you think? Two nights? Or three?"

"I don't know, pa, whatever's cheapest." I was thinking about the two teachers who's just resigned before we left (My mom owns a kindergarten).

Amanda looked at us then back at my dad and then shrugged, smiling. "Maybe...550?"

Our chalet!!

That's it. I want a hammock in my room.

To all girls: He's available!!!

Small but cosy

The toilet! It's...it's open air!!! *Falls in love*

From left: Amanda, Krom, Christian, my dad

Christian and Krom

The very sweet, very hot Amanda

Who knew, of course, that my dad would choose to take three nights instead of two.

That bothered me. It did. A lot.

In fact it bothered me so much that that night, as were looking up at the moon waiting for it to disappear, I had (just had) to screw things up by opening my fat mouth.

"I thought we were supposed to be saving money." I mumbled, looking up at the dark sky, half wishing my dad and brother would hear me, half hoping they hadn't.

"What?" My dad sat up.

Whoops.

"I mean...aren't we supposed to be scrimping for this trip? The teachers just quit and I've got college next month and I'm going to KL in three days..." I trailed off.

"You know it's too late already right?"

"Right."

"What's your problem?" My brother who was sitting in another chair away from snapped at me irritably.

"I don't want to stay another night." I grumbled. Because I was in a bad mood. Because it had been eating up inside of me all day, I don't know. I have a pretty big guilt complex, it comes with the Asian upbringing.

"You should have told me earlier." My dad sighed.

"Why the hell didn't you tell him? Now we're all going to have to feel bad." My brother blamed me and to be honest, it seemed pretty unfair.

"Fine, I'll stop saying it, okay?"

"It's too late. Shit lah, ah chen, you just ruined our vacation."

Aaaaaaand...you know the rest. I stormed off after that feeling miserable. But at least I'd finally decoded the reason why I wasn't having the time of my life on that island: It was a bubble. A fake, plastic paradise bubble that only doesn't pop as long as you have money. The thing was, we don't have that kind of money. Not for 15 ringgit a smoothie. I'm not ashamed of it.

In a way, it gives me the kind of motivation I need to start this new chapter of my life, turning 17 and all. I realize, heck, I'm not half bad. I'm a national public speaker. I'm pretty damn talented. I don't look half bad either. I used to be a voice talent for a television series. I'm writing a pretty darn tootin good book. I've got a decent blog. I've got really really amazing friends on the web. I'm going to the Asia Pacific blog awards! I'll work hard! I'm young! I can make it!

I was on my way back to the hotel room when I bumped into Krom.

"Hey!" He greeted me. Krom's got this incredible smile too. Maybe it comes with the island. Maybe I'm just not cut out for this kind of lifestyle.

"Hey, Krom."

"Where are you going to?"

"Going to?" I asked, completely perplexed "Uh, my room. Gonna grab some shut eye."

"You not coming out later?"

"Probably not...why? What's going on?"

"I'm going to do fire dancing."

"Wait, as in real, live, fire dancing? Dancing? With fire? You can do that?"

As it turned out, he could.

We made plans to meet up later at a beach front bar to watch his act and I went back feeling pretty pleased and less, well, guilty.

My brother was already in the room by then.

"Why did you freak lah." I ruffled his hair, he hates it but he really doesn't. On thing about my brother: he's a real softie, a softie that used to ask for hugs when he was 15. A softie that spends all night chatting with me about his love life and the problems that usually came with it. A softie that is so in tune with his sister we break into song at the exact same time, with the exact same song.

The only problem with this softie is that he's got an even bigger guilt complex than mine.

"I feel so bad now." He was still moping, after all that time. "Now no matter what I do, I'll be thinking...I'm wasting mami's money."

Welcome to my world.

"Then ask papa to change the return ticket." I said.

"I did" He moped "He thinks that I'm only doing it because of you."

"Then we'll go and tell him to change it now."

"You think we'll make it? It's really late."

I stopped. Brother there had a point. It was late. What if it was closed? What if we couldn't change our return ticket? We'd be stuck there for one extra day, miserable. What if I really did ruin our trip?

My brother must have sensed what was going on through my head (I mean, come on, we were mentally connected) because he said "At least we'll have to try." So we got up and went back to look for our dad.

At one point I stopped and said - just for the sake of saying it "Hey ah yin, what if we just, you know, enjoyed ourselves?" We stopped walking and actually considered it. What a thought. Just enjoying ourselves. Really, what a concept. For a second at least.

"No way." Again with the talking in sync. It just wasn't us. We couldn't do it.

So we spoke to our dad. And our dad went and changed the ticket. After he did, it finally sank in - that was our last night on the island. So what did I do? (Besides watch Krom's awesome fire act)

I had an oil massage.

I've never had an oil massage before, never liked the idea about someone touching me in..*giggles* places. But after seeing Sam's post about how great it feels and yadayadayadayada (Or you could read about it yourself here) I figured, why the heck not? Of course, it was only afterwards that I realized I had to strip down in order to have one. Whoops.

Pictures!! (Prepare to be grossed out by my outrageous lack of decency)

"By strip, you mean take off all my clothes? Here?"
"Yes. here. Now."
I am such a hick.

Fantasizing about all the things she will do to my body

Skip back massage

Skip

You're still here!!

And it feels....so good

Yes. I have armpit hair. No. I am not mortified with myself.
Maybe just a little. But that just means I am all woman.

A great way to finish off our vacation.

Sorry for the long post, I'll be hopping on the midnight train to Kuala Lumpur tonight for the blogger awards tomorrow so no guarantees when's the next time I'll be posting. Wish me luck! Anyone who'll be in KL at the time call me up! We can yum cha.

Okay. now tell me about your full moon eclipse experience (If you had any).

"I AM NOT THAI" - My first day in Koh Lipe, Thailand

2011-12-12T19:03:00.000+08:00

What do I do when I'm on vacation? Blog.
Somebody better kiss my ass.

I'm walking down a short but steep slope, leading away from my hotel onto Walking Street - a bustling walkway overcrowded with well disguised tourist traps, overpriced restaurants, cafes of bind boggling nationalities and (what else?) tourists - when a hefty, furiously tanned (and I know this because he's half naked) man comes striding in from a fork in the road to join me on my slope.

His voice hits me before the sight of him does - a deep, operatic tone bellowing tunes which are definitely not English.

Because I'm me, I smile at him. And because he's him, he smiles back.

"What language is that?" I ask.

"Greek." He says. Wow. Greek. talk about foreign.

"Oh and where are you from?" I grin just as it hits me: I ask really (and in this case, really really) dumb questions sometimes. My grin slips.

He smiles, letting it pass. Or not. "I speak Greek. I am Greek. I come from Greece." then without missing a beat, he tosses the proverbial ball back. "And you? You're from Japan?"

This time I smile. A real, goofy, makes-me-feel-good smile. Throughout the time I've been in Thailand, I've been called Chinese, Japanese, Korean (that guy obviously needs a new pair of sunglasses), Vietnamese, Indian (because I chose to wear a punjabi suit one night) and god forbid, Thai.

"I speak English. I'm Chinese and I'm from Malaysia" which doesn't sound nearly as cool as what the man just said.

We reach Walking Street and part ways with a wave. He goes left while I turn right. Just like that.

Man, I love Koh Lipe, Thailand.

~xXx~

Although partially self sufficient, Koh Lipe still gets most of its supplies from the nearest town mainland - Pakbara.

The Thais load carts and carts of produce (watermelons, vegetables...beer) onto a huge ass speed boat which carries the supplies for 90 minutes across crystal clear waters until they near Koh Lipe's reef where the produce are transferred across a barge to a smaller, less coral endangering speedboat, brought to Koh Lipe's shore and tossed over to a group of people waiting waist deep in the water below to catch them.

That's probably the best description of my arrival to Koh Lipe, Thailand. We were carried, shipped and tossed over along with other boatloads of tourists at a timely arrival of one and seven p.m. sharp daily onto Koh Lipe's shores to feed the economy of the island's native population.

On our way to Koh Lipe, the speed boat stopped for a fifteen minute break at Koh Adang after I told them I had to cam whore for my blog.

This speed boat isn't stopping. Probably doesn't have a blogger on board.

Dammit...I hate being single in these places.

Posing: like a boss

As soon as our boat hit the beach, my dad set off to find us a decently priced hotel whilst my brother and I went off to wreck havoc unto the unsuspecting natives of the island. (What can I say? We're two teenagers stranded on an island smaller than a quarter of Penang...Make that a fifth.)

Pictures!

But first, a brief (brief, haha, brief) description of Koh Lipe's geography. First off, its a pretty small island. And by small, I mean "Holy cow I just stepped on that piece of crap" small. Or maybe "I can't believe I lost my contacts again." small.

Okay, you get the idea. Small. So small in fact, that you can - like I have - walk across, over and around the island multiple times in one day, no sweat.

The main road cutting across the island is called Walking Street (kind of a no-brainer name if you ask me) which leads from Pattaya Beach to either Sunset Beach or Sunrise Bach (Two other no-brainer names) and branches off into dozens of tiny pathways which - if you dare venture away from the glitzy, white-man infested road - leads deeper into the island where the locals live and commune.

It's like there's some unspoken boundary line. One second you're surrounded by half naked white (or in most cases, red) people, then the next, locals. And their huts, fighting cocks and dusty roads.

Took a random shot of some random guy getting a random tatoo

This cock: Gets all the chicks

I found Forever Alone Guy's kid!!!

What to do when you see cute kids

Take pictures with them

Perfect timing

Life on the island...

...is really

...really...

...sleepy

Makeshift exercise rig

Not much for this post but I'll write more tomorrow...Crazy days I tell you.

*Oh and just an update of my life, I've finally settled into a strict routine of waking up at six to write [I'm working on a novel!!! Applause please. Hopefully you will soon be able to own bragging rights to being the friend of Malaysia's second youngest published author (And I will have friends!!! *giggles*)] until breakfast, then take two hours off to blog and then the rest of the day is devoted to sun, sand, sea and more writing.

Life is good. Don't know how many Coke Lights and mango smoothies I can take though.

BIG QUESTION: How's your holiday??

Much ado about nothing

2011-12-09T00:12:00.001+08:00

Hiya Peeps,

First off, this isn't typical Clarissa doing the posting here. This is a friend posting on her behalf as he was recruited ~~for his commendable creativity, flare for writing, assiduous pursuit of excellence in work and zeitgeistly vogueishness on par with that of the Clarissa Say herself~~ because she was desperate about being unable to post. As of why, I'm not really sure whether I'm at liberty to explain, so I'll leave that to her when it's done. However, I will join the loud throngs of friends she has in congratulating her for the Nuffnang awards! *clap* *clap*

In a brief moment of weakness, and perhaps because she asked me so nicely, (she has really nice teeth) I decided to abandon my hectic schedule of planning trips, assignments, studying (during the holidays? Yes!), writing letters to my boss, project work and writing stories in order to take up the mantle of this very important job.

Since I'm not your typical writer here, I'm going to write a bit differently from the way she does, so as to add a little variety to this blog. After all, you have all the time in the world to listen to the Cracked.com-Say-MSN pioneered "5 ways of so-and-so" style of writing after this. Please do humour me this.

Just the way you have those lazy substitute teachers who come to class and not know where your real geography teacher left off, I will rant randomly on an issue that nobody knows.

My experience in a Single-Sex education school

Just like many people of Clarissa's age (we're both dinosaurs), I'm already leaving High School and making headways into the many University and Pre-University courses the world has for us. I have friends going into Junior College, others taking up their accountancy courses at University. For the last (XX) years, we've spent so much of our time together, whining about how this teacher is useless when the next door class got the awesomest teacher ever, and gossiping about how that teacher's boyfriend's mom's brother's dog's handphone's brother has a scandal bigger than Dominic Strauss Khan's, and miserably doing our homework.
For the last (XX) years, we've been telling each other how little we've been studying for that upcoming test, when in fact we've been up all night in the closet with a torchlight on with that History textbook. So, in dedication to the past (XX) years, as well as in following Punk Chopstick's tradition of writing things in the Lowest Common Denominator, I will write about my experience in High School. For the benefit of nostalgia for all of you, and perhaps a bit of experience for those who are younger.

High School will never be an breeze for anyone. It's not so much about studying as it is about one finding one's identity and being prepared for the working world ahead. Yet when one grows up, one often wonders- "Dang, High School was a no-brainer. All I ever had to do was study." It's very easy to forget what happened in between such as:

Class:

We quietly as sheep sit down, take out our materials for the day, place it neatly on the table, and with a smile, listen quietly to our teacher, and begin taking down notes, before proceeding to complete our class assignments and accept some homework. This is exactly what we do. Right?

In reality, all sorts of behaviour is tolerable. In my experience, classrooms are the stuff of legends - but only in boy's only schools such as mine. Co-ed and Girl's schools probably don't have all that much fun.

The classroom is simply a room with lots of tables and chairs in it. (Maybe an aquarium). Anything and everything is free game. Que soccer, basketball, hockey. You name it, we've got it. For a short while, throwing paper balls at a fan and seeing where it landed became a sport. Later some of us vandalised the fan by sticking the broom up there. If there was an aquarium, there WAS an aquarium for a reason. For some of the more learned of us, we also conducted physics experiments there- for example, experiments on the relative ability of the whiteboard to withstand impact relative to the leg of a chair, and flight distances of glass objects from the third story of a building.

Be sure to invite the prefects to join in the fun!

When teacher's are around, that's even better - because you can still continue the aforementioned, only you have an additional audience. Even if she has a cane, because face it, she can't use the cane for anything except for hitting the table. If she hits you she'll have to deal with your parents. Who aren't going to believe her story since you're such a good boy. Bonus points if you can make her cry.

Pendidikan Jasmani/ Physical Education:

This is probably the most enjoyed time of a secondary school student aside from recess. This is when you get to go down to the field and start chasing that ball around the field screaming OIII!!!! FOUL! Nevermind that half of the time the game's going to stop because someone cried foul and both sides will start heckling over whose fault it was. Or whether it went past that imaginary boundary in the field.

If you're in a boy' school, it's almost always Football. Even in the rain. And when your teacher tells you that you can't go down to the field for any reason at all, riot! It's a God-given right written in the constitution and justice must be served! Down with tyranny and oppression! Aux armes citoyens! Formez vouz batailons! Qi lai bu yuan zhuo nu li de renmen!

Unless you're a wuss who like badminton or *snigger* catching.

Exam time:

For the great majority of us, that marks that wonderful time when we stop all outdoor activities and start cramming sweet sweet knowledge into our heads, most of which is only useful for fitting into a blank on a piece of paper. A lot of us will start tripping over our "picture perfect memories scattered all around the floor" in the form of books and study-aids. In our mad scramble to beat the clock.

Some of us will be bound to do all sorts of creative note-making with our multi-coloured mindmaps and tables, or multi-colour highlight the books such that the only thing that stands out really is whatever's not highlighted.

And for the rest of us - who went by an exam without realising, it's that time when you part the tables in the class and the teacher passes you this white sheets of paper. Yes, the one that you doodled on. Oh, do I see that sudden face of recognition?! Yes, you were supposed to study for it. Too late for you I suppose.

And that I suppose sums it up for the life of a student in an all-boy's school. Ciao!

Sincerely,

Deliciousvendibles.

Five ways to travel through time

2011-11-30T16:28:00.002+08:00

In order to read this post, you will need:
1. A pair of eyes or your own lover slave boy to do the reading for you.
2. A brain (or an intelligence quotient higher than Paris Hilton's).
3. A basic understanding of physics. And,
4. An internal voice that sounds like a cross between Bill Cosby and a flashy car salesman.

Let the science begin.

~xXx~

So,

you're the ~~douchbag~~, ~~asshole,~~ buttface that cheated on your girl and now you want her back. Or maybe you wish you hadn't taken those drugs at that last concert *ahem*. Wish you could oh, say, turn back time and do it all over again?

Well here's a simple solution for you. Why not make your own time machine?

It's inconvenient, nonexistent and a quick fix for all your solutions! But first, you'll need a basic understanding of Einstein's Theory of Relativity. [Cue Doctor Who theme music]

So give it to me straight, doc. What is time?

In a nutshell, time can be defined as the rate of change in the universe.

Like it or not, we're all experiencing change. Lives end, stars die and burritos fall apart. But just like how a river flows at different speeds in different parts, time flows at a different rate in different places. Basically, time is relative.

Or they leave the country.

Well yes but how do you change it?

It all goes back to that not-so-romantic relationship between time and space.

See, you me and Dupree, we're all dancing around the three spatial dimensions of width, height and length. Time joins the party as the most crucial fourth dimension. Time can't exist without space and space can't exist without time. Together, they form the Space-time continuum. [In other words, they're the Bella and Edward ~~Beep~~ing Cullen of science].

The funny thing is, time travel isn't complete science fiction hogwash - Global positioning satellites pull this off every day, accruing an extra third-of-a-billionth of a second daily (Their atomic clocks despite being the most accurate kind there is, still need to be readjusted consistently so that our cars wont tell us to drive off bridges and onto people's front lawns).

The reason for time being faster in orbit is because satellites are further away from the mass of the earth. Down here with us slower, lowly living life forms however, the mass of our planet drags on time and slows it down in small, barely there measures. We call this effect gravitational time dilation.

Now is this awesome or is it awesome?

Okay, so you won't be able to notice the tiny changes in the flow of time, so how about something heavier? Heavier than the Earth. As heavy as, say, the mass of hundreds of millions of suns condensed in one singularity?

Would this work? No.

Which brings me to method numero uno (finally).

#1. Jump into a black hole

That's right. A black hole. But first you'll have to find one first. Oh yeah, and avoid getting crushed. Lucky for us there's the Kerr Ring.

Not this ring

This ring

In 1963, New Zealand mathematician Roy Kerr proposed the first realistic theory for a rotating black hole. The concept goes like this: if dying stars managed to collapse into a rotating ring of neutron stars, their centrifugal force would prevent them (and you) from turning into a big, nasty blended singularity.

Theoretically, you would be able to enter one unscathed (pants not guaranteed) and exit on the other side, in another time. (Remember gravitational time dilation?)

Of course, if you're too chicken to jump in one, you could always do the cowardly thing and circle it. Pfft.

#2. Circling a black hole

Meet Sagittarius A. - A black hole at the center of the Milky Way (We have our very own black hole!)


It's there. Really. Keep looking. Oh wait, it's a black hole. There's no light. Damn.

It has a mass of four million suns existing as a singularly dense point. That's a lot of weight for a little lady.

Scientists say that if you managed to time it perfectly and aim your angle of projection just right, you'd be able to circle the black hole without falling in. At this point, you will be experiencing time at half the earth rate.

So, say someone from NASA is guiding your mission on earth while you sit on the ultimate merry-go-round of awesomeness. Whilst ten years have passed on earth, you will have returned to earth to discover that you've only aged five years. See the awesomeness now?

#3. Go fast. Really, really fast.

Mass, as it turns out, isn't the only thing which affects time. Speed does as well.

A phenomenon called time dilation is the key here. Time passes more slowly the closer you approach the unbreakable cosmic speed limit also known as the speed of light. Here, I'm going to use a pretty cool analogy.

Imagine, if you will, that we had a train built across the circumference of the earth, and that it started moving, generating speed as it built momentum. Now imagine that there was no limiting factor and it just kept getting faster and faster, going round and round the earth at ass-crazy speeds.

And now we know why

Theoretically, the train would keep on accelerating until it reached 99.9999% the speed of light, since Einstein's theory of relativity states that nothing can travel faster than the speed of light - an impressive billion kilometers per hour.

At this point, something really weird starts happening.

As you travel at this speed, only 1 year would pass on-board for every 223 years. Meaning, you could step into this fictional train, spend a year eating stale peanuts and getting the back of your chair kicked to step off one year later into a completely different world.

223 years in the future to be exact.

#4 Find your own cosmic string and hold on tight

Approximately 13.7 billion years ago, when the universe was but a wee teenager, it started spewing tons and tons or energy which would later be converted into various subatomic particles that would in time (Oh, say, thousands of years later) combine and form atoms, the building blocks of matter.

Not those blocks

That is, if you believe in the big bang theory. (Anyone got a better one?)

Anyhoo, when the universe was inflating after the big bang, the field that caused this inflation started to "crystallize".

It's a bit tricky to describe this, but try to imagine a pond during winter. If you look at the surface of the pond, you'll see plates of ice grow until they collide with their neighbors and when that happens, you get these patterns on the ice that looks like lines. Cosmologists theorize that the same could be applied for space matter when the universe was still cooling down.

Okay, no, seriously.

Much better.

It was physicist J. Richard Gott, who introduced the idea of cosmic string back in 1991. These strings may weave through an entire universe, thinner than an atom but under immense pressure. That would mean they pack quite a gravitational punch on anything that passes near them.

Hang onto one long enough and you'll be able to travel at incredible speeds, benefiting from time dilation.

Or sure, you could use a spaceship...pfft.

~xXx~

Okay, so maybe none of these methods can be put to full use just yet (Or in the next 50 years). But fret not! There's always method #5 to the rescue.

#5. Just close your eyes and shut up

Sit back, relax, and stop thinking too much.

In what feels like a few minutes, you'll discover that twelve hours have passed. Have a great day, everyone.

Final picture


This picture reminds me of me and my ex.

[Sources: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cosmic_string, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Time_travel, http://www.dailymail.co.uk/home/moslive/article-1269288/STEPHEN-HAWKING-How-build-time-machine.html, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rotating_black_hole, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Age_of_the_universe, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sagittarius_A*, http://www.google.com.my/search?q=sagittarius+A&hl=en&client=firefox-a&hs=Vvh&rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&prmd=imvns&tbm=isch&tbo=u&source=univ&sa=X&ei=yTPXTt3bOoiHrAfJ1YnODQ&ved=0CEAQsAQ&biw=1280&bih=885]

Five awesome ways to cheat in a test

2011-11-18T16:16:00.001+08:00

Because you can't spell Studying
without Dying. Get it?
See what I did there? See it?

Hello, new start of the week and HELLO fellow friendly, furry and ferociously funny readers. I'm back! Woohoo! Anyone miss me while I'm gone? Anyone? At all? No?

That sucks.

But if you have stuck around long enough to read about the my brother's awful girlfriend [Read] and his account of pervy hooded ghosts visiting him at night [Also read. Why the heck not, right?], then you should know by now that I've been taking my SPM (The academic equivalent of O-levels and GCSE for all my British, uh, peeps.) while my brother slaves over his laptop, filling in my weekly blog quota and I stand behind him with a whip in hand, Chemistry book in other and shouting at him if he would God Darn It, Start Learning The Proper Use Of Punctuation.

And you know what else sucks?

Exams suck.

I've never been more adamant about this fact until last week when I realized that seventy percent of what I've been cramming so ~~bleep bleep bleepity bleep~~ hard for will be completely and utterly obsolete in 18 days.

Take last week's paper for example, what the bong am I going to do with 36 moral values and their definitions? Screw the definitions. I could get a hundred marks and still go rob an old lady the next day (just saying of course). And because the government thought it was too easy to score, they decided 'Hey, just for the fun of it, you know like dissing Elton John and banning yoga, lets make sure that in order to get full marks, these kids have to memorize EVERY SINGLE STINKING SENTENCE WORD BY WORD IN CORRECT SEQUENCE.'

But this isn't about me and my crusade against our academic syllabus, oh no. This is about me, my class and cheating.

There's nothing that brings a class closer together than a healthy round of collective cheating. And even though I've haven't cheated since fifth grade, that doesn't mean I can't appreciate the sight of teenagers helping each other out regardless of gender and race by slipping answer sheets throughout the class.

Not that I condone it of course. Cheating is dishonest, just like stealing and lying. If you cheat, you must be prepared to accept the consequences of cheating. It's a risk, and if you get caught, take full responsibility for your actions.

With that being said, here are a couple of really creative ways that people cheat.

1. The Coca-cola Bottle Method
It took mere days for this method to spread virally through the net. In fact, it's so well known that you've probably already heard of it and of course, takes a lot more effort and equipment than is actually necessarily. But the Coca-cola method gets top marks for pure ingenuity. Also, it's become an urban classic.

This picture pretty much say it all.

2. Paper Tape Method
Funnily enough, not many people try this out. Now I'm not sure why but because it just sounds so effective, I decided to share it.

You will need: 1 small roll of paper tape and a pen.

On the day before your exam, write down any formulas or notes on the UNDERSIDE (The sticky side. Not the one facing out. Only a moron would do that. ) of the tape. Aaaaand you're good to go. That's it. Pretty simple.


Or you could get some tape that insults people.

3. Strictly GIRLS ONLY method

Applicable if you

1. Have boobs

2. Are desperate enough

Translated: Would you dare snatch this girl's cheat sheet?

4. Fingernail Method

So basically this is writing down the cheats on your fingernails. I've never heard of anyone actually doing it before but hey, the picture makes a nice visual

5. Another girl's only method

Basics still apply here of course. Write down what you're too lazy to memorize but not lazy enough to go through all the trouble on two pieces of paper. Slap them on your thighs and when you reach the question, ask to go to the toilet. Teachers usually let you out if you really really need to go. I suggest diarrhea.

*Note: Funny story. The one time I did try this method out, I realized that I didn't need to use it. I'd accidentally memorised everything I need to know while writing it down. Huh.

Well there you have it. All the best in your exams everybody and while these tips and tricks may sound cool, you definitely wont look it if you get caught. Yesterday a boy sitting next to me got caught while cheating (In his SPM for god's sake!) was dragged out of the hall, yelled at by our principle and not allowed to take the rest of his test. It's a gamble you'll have to be willing to take.

Everyone's allowed to cheat. Fact is, it''s a rite of passage. But well,

*Disclaimer: The owner of this blog says while these methods are tried and tested, they may not work for a pregnancy test

Big Question: Have YOU ever cheated? If yes, then when....and how?

Demons in your room

2011-11-12T15:00:00.001+08:00

[Hi, it's Jere here again and since my sister won't be blogging for a while (SPM and all) I thought I'd just let you know about some research I dug up some time ago, trying to figure out what occurred to me one fateful night.]

Has this ever happened to you?

Two weeks ago, I woke up inthe middle of the night with my back glued to the mattress, wondering what time it was. But it was only when I tried to roll over so I could check check my watch that I realized that I couldn't. I couldn't move, I couldn’t evenopen my eyes. I was a frozen, skinny, hunk of flesh. But I knew I was awake because, well, I could think. And not potatoes coming alive and eating you kind of thinking. Proper thinking.

And it gets freakier. I could feel someone pressing against my chest and constrictingmy breathing. My eyelids felt like stone so cracking them open was a lot like opening that jar you left at the back of the fridge for months. But when I finally succeeded in prying my eyelids apart, what I saw (HOLY CRAPP) made me freak out - On my chest was this human form in a hoodie trying to strangle me.

I could feel its icy cold hand wrapped around my neck and starting to tighten in grip. My eyes flew shut and I said a short prayer hoping that the evil entity - Or whatever it was - would goaway (Right, because that works all the time in movies). The rest was a blur, I don't know, maybe I was in shock. But the next thing I knew, it was morning, sunlight streaming in and not a freaky hooded perv in sight.

When we were younger, adults used to tell my sister and me that there was some sort of otherworldly explanation: Demons, ghosts, possession, the works right? So after that night, I did what any self-respecting adolescent of the 21st century would do. I Googled it.

A Sleep Paralysis is possibly a hereditary disorder in which one experiences very frightening seconds or minutes of [Blah blah blah] total body paralysis with little respiration and eye movements (1). A victim in this state feels [Hurm hurm hurm] awake, but he cannot move or speak (2). In addition to the immobility, the common symptoms include feeling choked or suffocated, hearing strange noises like footsteps and voices, seeing beings or dark shadows, and feeling an existance of someone in the room (1). Although these symptoms often direct the victims to believe in ghosts, mistransmission of neural signals in the brain causes Sleep Paralysis. When a person sleeps, his brain sends signals to inhibit any muscle contraction (3). If he comes into consciousness before the brain sends signals to activate muscle contraction, he cannot move his body, and consequently, become "paralyzed"(2).

-Hiro Takahashi

See? Nothing but Old Hag Syndrome.

Turns out all I was experiencing was Hypnapompic (As you are waking up) Sleep Paralysis. Huh. Guess I'm not so special any more.

So give it to me short and sweet. What is sleep paralysis?

Basically, sleepparalysis is when you find yourself unable to make voluntary movements exceptyour eyes either when you’re falling asleep (Hypnagogic), or waking up from it (Hypnapompic) for a periodof time. Sometimes, hallucinations are also associated. Like Hooded Perv over there.

Here’s thereal kicker though: We all experience sleep paralysis - also known as "nonreciprocal flaccid paralysis" (Is it just me or does that sound like a really really big turn off? Really? Just me?). During REM sleep, our brain sends signals to prohibit any muscle contractions. It's what keeps us from acting out ourdreams so you don't see people on the news walking into rooms and chopping people up. At least not on a constant basis.

And it's caused by....?

According to Wikipedia (Because everyone knows that Wikipedia never lies), the most plausible causes of Sleep Paralysis or Old Hag Syndrome are

Sleeping in a face upwards position [Check]
Increased stress [Check]
Sudden environmental/lifestyle changes [Check]
A luccid dream that immediately precedes the episode [Check]
Excessive consumption of alcohol coupled with inadequate sleep [No wait what? Me? Pftt...]

Doing The Edward.
Bet you wouldn't mind this in your room

Hold on, Lucid Dreaming? What's that?

Again, I'm glad you asked. Lucid dreaming is when you’re aware that its just a dream...when you’re dreaming. A lot like Inception.

So how do you incur lucid dreaming more often? One of the techniques that works for me is to check your watch or clock as often as possible during the day until it becomes practically habitual. That way, when you're dreaming you’ll know it isn’t real because you'll notice that the hands on every clock or watch look blurry (Which they usually do in dreams, as do faces).

Also you could try waking up 5 hours after you sleep then stay awake for about 15 minutes before going back to sleep. This will trigger Rapid Eye Movement sleep (Or REM). Then you’ll start dreaming xD

Out of body experience anyone?

But it's not just about getting the shite scared out of you. As it turns out, there might be an added advantage to Sleep Paralysis. Studies show that people who suffer from conscious sleepparalysis have an advantage if they want to have out of body experiences.

You know those shows where Girl In Coma inadvertently oversees Boyfriend Of Girl In Coma express his undying love/ cheating the pants off her with the nurse?

Well it's something like that.

There's still a crapload, however, that science can't explain about the mechanisms of our brain. And even though the current hypothesis appears to reject the possibility of ghosts on this matter, we can't completely rule out the possibility of ghosts or demons affecting one's behavior.

However, it's safe to say that like many unnatural occurrences (E.g. love) you can pin the blame on your brain for this.

So now I'd like to know, how many people out there have experienced SP before? Anyone?

Girls can be so cruel

2011-11-06T18:01:00.000+08:00

My name is Jeremy Say,

[Punk Chopstick's brother - bet you didn't know she even had one] and since she's gonna be sitting for the most important exam of her life soon, I'll be writing in her place for a week or so. Just to let you know.

Well I ~~have this friend~~ ~~know this person~~ ~~there's this b~~ I know this guy, Joe* whos amazing with girls. And I don't mean that like in a 'Hey you! Let's be best buddies!' 'Ok best bud!' kind of way. What I mean is he's the kind of person who manages to make ~~sucker~~ girls fall in love with him, with just one look. Just one friggin look. Yes, I have issues.

Well he and I are kinda related in a way.

What way?

I'm so glad you asked. You see, we both have the same taste in girls. Bad news for Me.

Now, allow my stereotypical story to begin. I'll start from the beginning since it always seems like a good place to start. (As if lah starting in the middle is an option.) On the 24th of October, 1995, I was born. Haha ok, no, seriously. It started when this girl, Hannah*, smiled at me on the bus which we've been riding on for a year, I never took much notice of her until that moment.

Oh wow [Disclaimer: Jeremy did not put this.
I, your lovable Punk Chopsticks, did. Enjoy!]

So here's the problem, remember how I said Joe and I have the same taste in girls? Yeah, well, he liked Hannah too. Great.

Would you say yes to this?

One day, I told Hannah exactly how I felt about her, and thats when all hell broke loose.

I gave her a bottle of paper hearts. On the blue hearts, I wrote 'Be mine?' on the red hearts was written 'Yes' and on the black hearts I wrote 'No.' After two weeks, she gave me a red heart. I assumed that meant yes to my question, but you know...I'm a guy, I don't think. Period. So when her friend went like 'Ehhhhh Its so pretty! Can you give it to me?', I uh, did. In front of her.

It didn't look like it mattered much to Hannah at the time, but it did. And she made a point to let me know that :

Say Wei Yin
Sorry bout giving the heart away.
October 19
Hannah
Hmm. I think u doesn't need that heart anymore rite. I'm giving u that heart because I wanna give you the answer for that questions . Still remember that questions? But never mind laa. Everything is done already just now and the heart is gone. Tq for doing that to me .

That night, I went to the back of her house and asked her sister to pass the phone to Hannah, but she wouldn't look out her window, I stood there trying to get a chance to apologize.

It's only gotten worse since then... She told me she liked me soon after.

Say Wei Yin
Eh do you like me or not?
October 12
Hannah
Yes

A week later...

Hannah

I'm so sorry. I don't think that we can be together. Hmm . I don't want to think about this anymore. I want to focus on
my study. I hope u won't disturb me n my sis. I hope u understand. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt u but the truth is I'm hurt right now and not because of you. Don't worry I'm already forgive u. I'm not interested with this anymore. I hope u will happy with your life and I hope that Joe also happy with his girlfriend. I'm not perfect and not good enough for u all. I know who i am. Thanks a lot for your love and care. I know one day u will forget me. I know u can. There are many girls outside there that u can get. U don't know what I feel right now and stop asked me why I like Joe because I can't answer that questions. Sorry again. I hope u won't hate me because it will hurt me more. I need to do this. I need to sacrifice for our own good. All things that i've done have their own reasons . Believe me

Ouch.

I've asked her to be my girlfriend but she's yet to give me an answer, even with my sisters great advice, oh yeah it's that good. I can't seem to be able to get her. Just last night while I was kinda crazy, I called her up and asked her why she wouldn't say yes.

Me : Why wont you say yes?
Hannah: Because im confused.
Me : why are you confused?
Hannah: Because right now I like you and Joe but right now he already has a girlfriend.

So I'm her second choice and that isn't even good enough.

Someone tell me, please, why do girls do this?

Sexy People and what they find sexy

2011-11-01T15:03:00.000+08:00

[Caution: The followingpost has exceeded the recommended length for those with short attention spans. Boredommay ensue. Read at your own risk. And for those who didn’t give a shite in thefirst place, dropped by to leave their link, feign interest, get my hopes upand leave, just…just go you, you mean people]

Hello there!

So, this past Deepavali has been surprisingly ... wait for it ... boring.

Huh.

And we all know what we do when we're bored don't we? Weeat. (By we, I mean you, and by you, I mean me. Just so I don't sound toogreedy).

I mean, what's not to love? (By love, I mean eat). This is TheWhole Reason I love Malaysia. Every holiday seems to be another thinly veiledexcuse to pig out. Food and drink abound. Pass the papadam, watch another footballre-run and where the hell is that other pack of peanuts?

All year round.

Gosh, I love Malaysia.

Of course, eating and sitting round watching football 24/7 is all welland good but then comes The Fallout one week later, or as Joshua would like putit, at the beep.

*Beep*. There we go.

Have I gained weight? Yes. Is my skin deliciously oily? Enough tofry chicken off, hun. Hair? You don’t want to know. And have I lost any semblance of a relatively active sociallife? Wait, what social life? But toanswer your question (By your, I also mean mine), Oh god, yes. I am sopathetic.

So these past three days I’ve been hitting the gym, trying to shedoff a couple murukku induced poundsand get back in shape before the start of school (Where girls can be cruel,teachers can be frank, boys can be rude and I can be exceptionally thinskinned).

Yoga is my choice fat busting method, it helps build you coremuscles, calms the mind and stretches the body.

Of course, we all know what the exercise is really for.

I ish verra verra sexy, no?

I guess that's a no.

Speaking of which, one thing I realized about sexiness is howpeople’s perception change as they age. The hot young thing in your prefrontalcortex may gradually morph into a mature, self certain woman (Or man, if tha'ts what floats your boat). Some of you maynot know this, but what really gets me excited are older guys. Who read. Arefunny. And smart. Looks are, well, looks are transient. ‘Nuff said.

So today I bring you two very gracious bloggers and one friend toshare their take on sexiness.

This is Jeremy Teo. We met during a public speaking competition two years ago. He’s the radio dj for Red.fm’s morning breakfastshow. Rain lookalike, self proclaimed awesomist and all round nice guy.

1) What would you define as sexiness?

SEXY. Well for me to feel an individual is sexy, it's like when they're comfortable in their own skin. Also, when i think they look hot. Hahahahah

2) What do you usually find sexy in a person?

Honestly, the simple short answer would be hot body. Hot clothes.

But the reason why they rock those things is confidence =)

The very not sexy Jeremy
from Red.fm

3) Would you call yourself sexy?

HELL YEAH! Hahaha. Actually, not. Really. I dunno. I don't think of myself as sexy...

Awesome maybe

4) Sexiest thing a girl can do for a guy (lets try to keep our heads out of the gutter here)

Hmmm...I guess be herself? Be willing to accept the strange things a boy does? Hahahah, entah la. I dunno how to be sexy. If i could, i'd get everybody to do it

Hahahahhaha

5) Things you find sexy that other people don't

Girls who wear glasses when they don't usually wear em.

And when they bring me bubble tea and make me sandwiches

HAHAHAHA

~xXx~

Next is Joshua who has got to be one of the coolest nerds I've met. Besides being a fellow Whovian, he is also a writer, husband, father and freelance copy editor. And he sings (with the guitar). This's his blog and while you're at it, check out some of the amazing stories he's written!!

1) What would you define as sexiness?
I know it sounds cliche, but personality is crucial. A smoking hot body can only get you so far, but if you have nothing in common with the person, there's no connection other than the physical. Let's face it, even the most hardened monogamist will tire of someone if there is nothing connecting them on another level. It's called pillow talk for a reason, and being able comfortable with yourself and your body to lie naked with someone after the act and actually carry on a two-sided conversation is sexy.

2) What do you usually find sexy in a person?

Is it just me or is there a resemblance?

If we're just talking the physical attributes: the front of a woman, right along the front of the hip bone as it curves inward; the neck, particularly along the collar bone where it meets the neck; I'm also partial to brunettes and redheads. As far as non-physical attributes go, see my answer for question 1, and add sense of humor, acceptance of nerd culture, interest in the same kinds of things, but able to have their own opinions on subjects, doesn't cling. All things being equal, intelligence and kindness and humor and a good heart are key. The hair color and body type come secondary.

3) Would you call yourself sexy?
I'm practically between Elijah Wood as Frodo Baggins, so I suppose I'm kind of a niche market.

4) Sexiest thing a girl can be for a guy
Accepting of the guy's personal quirks, listens to him go on about something he's passionate about, doesn't make fun of him and those quirks to her friends, and when moment of intimacy arrive, she's lost in the moment and not thinking about something else or trying to find something to do right after it's over.

5) Things you find sexy that other people don't
I'm quite fond of long hair. It's not something I can really explain, but there it is. Long, dark hair.

Now this here's Snowbrush or also known as Lowell Thomas. He's a real mellow kind of guy, very likable and with a bit more years of experience up his sleeve. You can check out his blog here.

1) What would you define as sexiness?

Theoretically rather than concretely? I don't know.

2) What do you usually find sexy in a person?

I'm mostly into eyes, legs, butts, and brains (not necessarily in that order--ha). A lot of young women nowadays try too hard to look hot, and the clothes they wear appear silly or even slutty rather than sexy. I like attention to wardrobe, but I also like dignity, and that often gets sacrificed.

3) Would you call yourself sexy?

I don't find age spots sexy, and I have them, even on my face. Other than that, I consider myself to be nicer looking than most men my age.

4) Sexiest thing a girl can do for a guy

Be interested in him. Respond to what he's saying with intelligent comments. Anticipate what makes him happy and do it without being asked. (Men should do these things too.)

5) Things you find sexy that other people don't
I think that women in their forties and fifties are often more attractive than women in their twenties, and while the stereotypical Playboy figure is okay, I don't consider it the epitome of female pulchritude. I suspect that men like a greater variety of body types, hair colors, and so forth than women think they do.

~xXx~

Oh my god! It's a super sexy
exercise ball!!!

Hey!!! You're still around. Wow. Well, now that you've read what these amazing (AMAZING) ly sexy people have to say about well, being sexy, I'm passing the ball back. What do you find super sexy in a person?

Try to come up with as creative an answer as possible and who knows, you just might surprise yourself.

Nuffnang blog awards, here I come!

2011-10-26T09:59:00.000+08:00

So why am I holding a teddy bear, in that dress, with a suitcase, looking as blur as ever? Well, in order to answer that I'd have to start from the well, start. Heh.

This is in part a competition post I've submitted and in part, my own story. Some of it's fact and some of it's fiction but I wont spoil everything by telling you which is which.

Don't worry, we'll get to the suitcase later.

~xXx~

Once upon a time, there lived a young girl who grew up in a mystical land - A valley filled to the brim with shining castles that dominated the skyline, gleaming like diamonds in the dark and waves of sunlight in the day.

They called this cryptic province 'Silicon Valley' because of the bright magic chips they grew there, and this was where the young girl spent her early years - In a castle of her own with her powerful parents who ruled over their part of the kingdom.

Everyone who lived there possessed extraordinary powers and could create magnificent things with the power of their minds. But while her father possessed such powers, the young girl - unknown to her people and her family - did not, and grew up in constant fear of being discovered, for the people of Silicon Valley did not accept commoners easily.

Then one day, the inevitable happened and the young girl, along with her family, were banished from the Valley of Silicons for eternity. With nothing but the coins in their pouches, they made a new life for themselves by selling Nasi Lemak and Roti Telur in a corner of the world, a place called - Sungai Petani. For the first time in her life, the girl felt safe and cherished, no longer persecuted by unseen forces. But she was not allowed to venture outside of her house, for the people of Sungai Petani did not like outsiders, with their magic powers and patronizing tones, and refused to speak their language.

So she grew up shielded from the outside world, with no other way to venture beyond her cottage but through the portal her father gave her as a child. With this portal, the girl discovered a group of outsiders just like her who were called The Nuffnangers. They shared their thoughts and emotions with the world, and ranted and took pictures of food and camwhored and wrote poems and ranted some more. Oh, how the girl wished she could one day meet them - this elusive group she wished she could join.

Then one day from her portal, she heard wonderful news - the Nuffnangers were having a gathering come the 16th of December, where 500 other Nuffnangers would convene from all over the land to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia for the Nuffnang Asia-Pacific Blog Awards 2011 in Putrajaya Marriott. But in order to do that, she had to list out the three top reasons why she wanted to go so very very badly as if the story above wasn't enough.

So here we go:

Three reasons why it is absolutely imperative that I go to the Nuffnang Asia-Pacific Blog Awards.

1.I have no friends.

That's right. It's me. I'm Forever Alone Guy.

Well, I have acquaintances - close acquaintances (So I don't get belasah-ed the next day) even, but someone who can list out the top five reasons why Steven Moffat is the MOST AWESOMEST SCRIPTWRITER EVER or someone who's shoulder I could cry on when Rose left The Doctor? No. Nope. Nada. Neh.

Maybe it has something to do with the faulty wiring from my brain to my mouth, or maybe it has to do with the fact that I study at a Chinese School, but almost all of my closest friends are online. Now that I finally have a chance to meet them, do you really want to take that from me? Do you? Huh?

2. There is a dress sitting at the back of my closet for 2 years and hasn't been worn once.

This is true. See that dress in the first picture up there? Well I've never actually officially broken it in yet. The sad thing is that my boyfriend bought that beautiful beautiful dress as a birthday present and I've never worn it out once. I'm not a dress kind 'a gal.

But he's losing his patience and even though he may look like a friendly kind of guy, I swear he's an animal when he gets mad, oh yeah. He'll get all warped up and start beating his chest and ripping his clothes and tearing things up and smashing down buildings and kidnapping young women and climbing up the Empire State Building.

Wanna see him?

Meet Einstein.
The world's smartest cat who managed to trap himself with a plastic bag

3. I am but a humble country girl who knows nought about the capitalistic ways of the city.

What do you mean "But didn't you grow up in Northern California?"

Eh, that was years ago okay? I learnt my lahs and did my dahs and I swear I can speak better Malay than some of the Malays in KL. See, every time I head to the big cities like JB or KL I turn into a little kid all over again. The big buildings never cease to amaze me, I get transfixed whenever I enter a shiny clean toilet and god forbid if you leave me near a Big Mall (yes, with capital letters) like Mid Valley.

In Kedah I'm always The American Kid, or That Ang Moh Girl, but there's still a part of me that spent her teenage years sitting alone by the riverside, reading and day dreaming. Just because you can't see it, that doesn't mean it's not there. So, yes, it would be nice to dress up and pretend like I'm a princess again. Just sayin.

So...who's gonna send me to the Nuffnang Blog Awards again?

...Anybody?

The Nuffnang Asia-Pacific Blog Awards is brought to you by Volkswagen Malaysia and Putrajaya Marriott

[Don't be shy! Leave your comments, critiques, andconundrums down here. I'm a big girl, I can handle honesty, bring iton! ('cause like I said, this means a lot to me)]

Face stuffing at tao

2011-10-23T11:01:00.000+08:00

[Disclaimer: this is not a food blog, nor will it ever be a food blog. I do not have any intention of turning this into a food blog. I just like food. All I know is whether it looks good, tastes good and whether I suffer from food poisoning the next day. However I can not judge food so god help me if you hold me responsible for recommending something that sucks. Read at your own risk]

Yesterday was my sister's birthday!! Woohoo!!!

Which can only mean one thing of course - good food and a lot of camwhoring. (I can't help it, I'm a girl, so sue me.)

We headed to Auto City Penang which was in a sense the central hub of all things car, food, drink and club. But you know me, partying, clubbing, drinking, meh. I'm a nice quiet country girl, I live in Kedah, my house is literally surrounded by paddy fields, I don't do all that.

So I pigged out in frustration.

Introducing Tao,
one of my top favorite Japanese cuisine pigout hotspots (count the adjectives in that). I love the theme of the restaurant which is pretty Zen-ish. Even the name itself means 'path' - which is something you hear about A LOT in Buddhism, so trust me, I know.

In case you haven't been there before (WHAT??? You've never been to the most awesomest Japanese buffet restaurant yet?), it's pretty straightforward. For 50 bucks a person - Ringgit not dollars - you can help yourself to anything on the buffet table, salad bar and menu (THE MENU!!!). There are seven pages of A la carte to choose from so if you like good food, and lots of it, this is the place to go.

Raw fish on rice (I did say I'm not a food blogger)

Black pepper scallops

Oyster and cheese

Smoked salmon with papaya (so...basically I'm just stating the obvious here)

Till now we still can't tell if this is meat or fish

Mmm...edamame, my favorite

brother ordered four plates of this

Chocolate fountain. Heh. Heh heh heh.

I ninja YOU! Tee hee.

Since it's nearing Halloween, they decked the entire place in spooky Halloween deco. Don't get me wrong here, I love Halloween, I do. Heck, its my most favorite holiday of the year (take that, Christmas) but I wasn't really vibing the place that day. I mean, ninjas and trick-or-treating don't exactly get along very well. Plus, everything looked all over the place.

There was this one point during our dinner when my brother looked up at the ceiling - which was draped in fish nets - and said "They expect us to believe that those are cobwebs??" Case in point.

One thing the management did get right however, were the ~~fools~~ waiters dressed as what I think were supposed to be reapers. 'Course, all that made me want to do even more was jump in front of one, wielding a chopstick and shout at the top of my lungs "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

I think found Voldemort

THIS is how you scare a kid, dammit!

There hath no love more pure than that of an undead bromance

Food-Sex Analogy
One thing I realized though, is how much food is like sex. Good food is a lot like good sex, I get really upset when I eat something mediocre, what took the chef minutes to prepare is ~~raped~~ finished in half the time and no matter how good it looks pre-dinner, everything ends up looking messy and half eaten and disgusting.

So riddle me this, why the hell do guys still go to strip clubs? Figuratively speaking, wouldn't that be like going to a restaurant, ordering food, smelling it but not allowed to eat it?

What's better than good food?
Hot guys to serve it!!! I officially rename Tao 'Dreamy Waiter Land'

So cute dammit!!

Ethan, if you're reading I swear this guy looks like you

Chef who reminds me of well, someone

Yes. Yes, I know. I'm wearing a skirt. No. No, they did not force it on me.

I wasn't really posing for this picture. What happened was that the camera was being bitchy again so it took a while for my brother to get the settings right. This was taken while I was waiting for him to get the darn thing straight and somehow, it was the best picture. True story.

Taken on the second story ledge. Scared? Pftttt. Clarissa knows no fear. Clarissa laughs in the face of death. HAH!

Final picture: me and my cousin. She's so friggin skinny darn it!

I lied. Tee hee x)

The Rationality of Boob Fetishes

2011-10-19T15:26:00.001+08:00

The predicament of Blonde conversion

2011-10-15T19:24:00.015+08:00

In just a few months, I'll be facing a new problem.

A problem so big it'll make the financial crisis look like the overdue balance in my checking account.

A hurdle so elevated that I’d rather crawl back sniffling and retake my upcoming SPM (Which some of you might have been thinking was what this topic was about so HAH! IN YO FACE!) than face it.

What be this hurdle I speak of, you ask?

Yep you guessed it.

I'll be graduating soon and until now, I still haven't thought of what I want to do with my appearance. Do I stick to my three year plan of painting pink streaks in my mane or should I just dye the darn thing brown like every godforsaken, interchangeable, stereotypical Chinese girl out there. And live with it. (I've always joked that brown was the Asian equivalent of blonde and yet here I am, thinking about it. Actually, actually thinking about it. Man.)

But why even change your appearance?? I hear you cry. And I reply, Well thanks. That is such a guy thing to say. But its true. Then again, guys say a lot of things. Like how they like girls without makeup (but not girls with pimples) and girls who are just themselves (but have an awesome personality and sense of humor) and how they eat healthily (but have a body like Kate Moss's). And I say Take it or leave it, we are who we are. No wait, I think that one's Kesha. But what I'm trying to say is: its not a capital offense to try and change yourself. Life's all about change. Heck, even time is defined as the rate of change. Without change, we wont have time. We'd probably all be nonexistent lifeless bodies of continuous thought. Scratch that, no thought. Just the nonexistence.

Bernice who used to be my scriptwriter (it's a long story) put it like this:

"When I was a kid, my dad used to work in a Ribena factory and he'd never let any of his kids drink Ribena 'cause he knew all the crap they were putting in it. But how the hell do you try explaining that to a six year old? All my friends were drinking Ribena and I couldn't even touch it. So yeah lah of course, the minute we grew up, my brother and I kept buying Ribena by the carton. I still love it."

Remember the good old days when they used to come in glass bottles?

In my school (Which is Chinese ed, whoopee), you can't let your hair down (as all Malaysians know) You can't straighten it, or curl it, or dye it or crop it. So for five whole years I tied it up in a bun and forgot about it.

Now I'm finally letting my hair down (Both literally and figuratively) and surprisingly enough, as much as I've dreamed of this day coming, I can't for the life of me figure out what I want to do with this new found freedom.

So in the end, I've decided to just leave things as they are (men of the world, rejoice!) Its not that I've found some spiritual truth in Internal Beauty or anything like that, maybe its simply the fact that when you have something, you just don't feel like you want it anymore.

Which was what I thought at first, but then my friend told me this

"Hey, maybe that's not the case, you know? Maybe its just the fundamental truth that when you don't want something, you finally realize that you're mature enough to handle it"

I don't know. Either way, I've decided not to do a thing about graduating. I'll hang out with some buddies, stay sober and have a good time.

Why? I don't know.

Why don't you tell me?

Evil things to do when feeling down

2011-10-05T11:40:00.001+08:00

My parents used to tell me that the only thing which would make me happy was by making others happy as well.

This is not the case.

I don't know if it's just me, but recently almost everyone I know has been in the dumps. Be it break ups, no one to break up with, exams, results, jobs, you name it.

So now in honor of all the poor souls who are going through a rough tine in their lives, I'd like to dedicate this blog post to you guys and share some of my secrets to staying happy - all the time.

Evil things to do when feeling down

1. Volunteer to take the picture of some random tourist with his camera and instead of taking it, watch and wait as his smile turns more and more painful. Snap picture as soon as he frowns.

Want other ways to annoy people while on vacation?

Put a sea shell to your ear and announce to first person to pass by, "It's for you!" Repeat several times.
While at an amusement park, take an Alka-Seltzer tablet and begin to have spasmatic movements in your body while foaming at the mouth at the very top of the tallest ride.
Whisper right in someone's ear, "I know what you did last summer."
On the plane, bring a cellular phone. Call God. Say, "The reception is much clearer up here...."
Give someone a coin, saying "Heads, I detonate the bomb. Tails, I don't"

2. Walk across the street, run up to a random stranger, smack him on the shoulder saying 'tag, you're it!' and run off.

Speaking of malls, here are a bunch of other things you can do while you're at it

:Ask mall cops for stories of World War I.
Ask a salesman why a particular TV is labeled black and white and insist that it’s a color set. When he disagrees, give him a strange look and say, “You mean you really can’t see it?”
If you’re patient, stare intently into a surveillance camera for an hour while rocking from side to side.
Stare at static on a display TV and challenge other shoppers whether they, too, can see the “hidden picture”.
Go into a pet shop and release all the birds, parrots etc. Screaming at the top of your voice "Be free my feathered friends"

3. Walk into a crowded elevator holding a paper sign saying 'Temporarily out of service' and say "Hey, who do you think taped this on the door?"

Other ways to annoy people in the elevator:

Act like a dog, growl at people.
Announce in a demonic voice: “I must find a more suitable host body.”
Apply dripping red paint around the edge of the roof hatch. When someone enters, look upwards and whisper "I think they want in..."
Ask each passenger getting on if you can push the button for them. Press the wrong ones.
Bring a camera, take pictures of everybody in the elevator.
Frown and mutter "gotta go, gotta go" then sigh and say "oops!"

4. When someone comes up to talk to you (complain, rant, etc.), Say "Shhh" At every two worded interval.
To be honest, this was inspired by my sister and it was too hilarious for me not to try out.

Friend: Oh my god, you wont believe the day I had

Me: Shhh
[Awkward silence]

Friend: What? What is it?

Me: Shhhhhhhh

Friend: Okay...

[Some more silence, tee hee]
Friend: You know wha-
Me: Shhhhh!

Friend: Are you-

Me: Shhhh!

Friend: Come on!

Me: Shhhhhhhhhhh...

Friend: What IS IT?

Me: nothing I just don't like your voice
[Disclaimer: Only to be performed with close friends or people who know what an asshole you can be. www.punkchopsticks.blogspot.com is not liable for any personal injury which may or may not have incurred do to the performing of this deed]

Other annoying things to say:

Would you look at the size of the hair I just yanked out of my nose!
My psychiatrist says that flying helps offset my desire to mutilate small, defenseless, woodland creatures.
The last guy who ignored me is still on a respirator.
Would you hold this messy kleenex for me?
Wanna see my tonsils? I keep them in a jar.
I haven't changed my underwear in over two weeks! How about you?
The doctors say that my eighth personality is the least dangerous.
Wow, look at that little boy in the third row!
Can you believe they only gave me three years for killing my own sister?!

So now that you've been enlightened, go forth my henchmen, and spread the joy!

You know what? I want to hear what YOUR ideas are for complete world annoyance. Leave an idea in the comment box, and if its hilarious, I'll put it up on the next post with credits xD

Oh yeah, and if you've finished peeing in your pants by now, head on to Bored.com for more hilarious ways to freak people out!

Is your teacher a bully?

2011-10-01T17:13:00.001+08:00

Bullies suck.

Kedah, Malaysia. Photo credits to Ryo Helmenkalastaja

I say this because trust me, I'd know. After making the move from Austin, Texas to holy-cow-was-that-a-cow-? Kedah, Malaysia, I realized pretty soon the there seemed to be a pattern emerging - People didn't like it when I spoke English.

WELL TOO BAD. Because - surprise! - it was the only language I knew how to speak back then. High school was especially tough (funny how you think everything sucks in America because you're too Asian, only to come back and get picked on for being too American.) then add that to the fact that my parents had the happy happy notion of sending me to a Chinese school (Here's a note: kids LOVE this) and you have a girl who's chair gets kicked every day by her classmates - which isn't so bad seeing as that was basically the only form of human interaction I received for the first semester there.

Of course, that's all in the past now. What I really wanted to talk about wasn't the fact that teenage girls are evil (Thank you , Captain Obvious), its actually about the hashing I received later on from my own teachers. My own teachers. How sad is that?

The view outside my school.
Photo credits to Ryo Helmenkalastaja

The first time I realized that the teachers in my school (believe it or not) DID talk about things other than algorithms and semicolons was during my third form when I was fifteen. On a day like any other - book in hand, awelamesome geeky personality in the other - Abby (My then bestest best friend) came up to me and said something along the lines of "Claire, one of the teachers told my mom [who was also a teacher] that I shouldn't spend so much time with you."

"Why?" I asked, the way only a whiny three year old can.

"Because she said you're a bad influence on me. That I shouldn't pick up from your American influence...Maybe you should try, you know...not sticking out so much."

"But I do try not sticking out. What else does she want from me??" More whining. (By the way, I hadn't even met said teacher before so go figure!)

"I don't know, maybe try changing your accent. The teachers keep saying that your accent is fake and that you're showing off to the other students."

Of course that's what she said. But what I heard was "You know those girls in Dirty Dancing? Yeah well, you're like that. And you talk like them too. And you know what? You don't even have the legs to pull of their tights. Oh and did I mention you dress like them? You dress like them. Poser."

Cue the waterworks.

As evil as he was initially made out to be,
at least Snape didn't gossip about Harry

Years later and I still got the same crap from similar teachers. Yes I said crap. And yes, there was a lot of self hate at the time. But it was only two years ago that I realized it wasn't just me going through this. "Don't worry about it," Hui Shin, another friend told me in Mandarin (By now, you won't believe how far I've come in learning the language.) "Teachers do that a lot. They don't mean anything personal about it, they just don't have a lot to talk about"

And here I was, bawling my eyes out and thinking they didn't like me.

In retrospect, I was probably overreacting (Duhh ya think?). But the fact remains that I was a sophomore high school student. OF COURSE I would overreact. That's what we do darn it! And someone's got to realize that the soft, flabby, one cell thick membrane that is our integrity can not stand the simple fact that as human as teachers are, they do talk about students among other teachers, regardless of intent. But if you think that it's all well and healthy, keep scrolling down.

According to EDU.UDYM.com, gossip is categorized as another form of bullying. Yes, even staff room gossip (SUCK THAT Pn. Maung) Yet, teacher bullying gets little attention, says Stuart Twemlow, MD, a psychiatrist who directs the Peaceful Schools and Communities Project at the Menninger Clinic in Houston. But his new study, published in The International Journal of Social Psychiatry, hints that the problem may be more common than people believe.

In his anonymous survey of 116 teachers at seven elementary schools, more than 70% said they believed that bullying was isolated. But 45% admitted to having bullied a student, which all but puts my recurring nightmares of teachers sadistically ruling the world to rest. Great.

Of course, not all teachers are sadistic, gossip horses or baby killers. Just mine. (Har har, kidding!) In fact, Caleb, fellow blogger-slash-teacher practically lives for his students (Which explains why he isn't teaching in my school. Thanks again, god) as you can see in his latest post. So if you're a teacher and you've done your fair share of spreading hideous rumors about innocent children you don't even know that well, just bear in mind that people do get hurt.

Oh yeah, and we're probably saying the same things about you.

Now my question is: Is it just me or are there other people out there? And if so, then whats your story?

Diary Post : Penang,Hills and Obnoxious Kids

2011-08-04T18:10:00.001+08:00

[Attention to all non Malaysian people with white/black skin and strangely colored hair: If you have not left the page by now due to my blatant disregard for politically correct language, be warned: this post contains inside jokes, political references and lame humor. If the aforementioned does not strike you as the makings of an AWESOME post, feel free to skip straight to the pictures or browse through my other less obnoxious posts. You have been warned]

Malaysia Boleh

Before I begin, I should probably fill you in about my state's unique choice of weekends. Besides hailing from Lalaland (A wink - if you're travelling at the speed of thought - past Neverland and the second fart to the right), I am also a proud resident of Sungai Petani, Kedah, Malaysia (Support us, we grow your rice), a small unassuming town in a small unassuming state in a very assuming (Ass-U-(&)-me-ing) country*. So unlike the rest of our country, South East Asia and most of the world, we have our days of homework procrastination on Friday and Saturday.

Because we're special like that.

A few weeks ago - sadly - all of Malaysia's students suffered a great loss as we watched one of the few remaining and tragically rare Saturdays [One where we actually don't have to go to school for co-curriculum, school replacement and fun (HAHAHAHA, just kidding)] taken from us. (Thanks, Mr Prime Minister, I really enjoyed being forced to run 3 kilometers on a Saturday morning to promote racial integration for my country. I'm sure ten years from now, I'll look back and understand just how brilliant an idea it was)

On the bright side, however, THEY GAVE IT BACK!!! Meaning to say, besides Friday and Saturday this week, I also had an extra Sunday and Monday to slack off! (And two weeks before our major trials too! Will the brilliance never end???) So after a long and arduous battle of ethics, I decided to screw it and headed to Penang with my folks.

Cue Penang Hill Pictures!!

Let the train ride commence!

There's an interesting story to this picture actually.

Train goes like Chooooooooooooooo

If you haven't already guessed, this scene was taken behind glass panes from the front of the train (That's right, front row seats baby) which I had to stand in line waiting half an hour for...just to end up sharing with a bunch of obnoxious, super irritating kids.

Don't get me wrong, I love children. My mom owns a kindergarten and it's like my second home so you can probably see how I'd have to love them or suffer a mental breakdown. But don't tell me you've never had the urge once in a while - after meeting the sort of brat that thinks saying "excuse me" excessively gives him the privilege to be rude like nobody's business - to throw some kid out of a train and watch him get run over the tracks. Tee hee.

So there I was, taking pictures with a huge ass camera because I can when the kid (Who wasn't even supposed to be in the car) goes "EXCUSE ME, You're blocking my view"

The mother goes tsk and the boy goes

"EXCUSE ME, can you PLEASEEEEEEE get your ass out of my face?"

I go wtf?

Kid's mother goes omg and my camera goes clickety click.

My brother goes "I'll take the pictures" Kid goes blah blah blah. I go somebody hand me a gun.

Then out of nowhere, the boy (and his brothers) start going "LALALALALALALALALALA" and "WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO" and "WEEEEWOOOWEEEWOOOWEEEWOOO" I kid you not. So like any two mature young adults, my brother do what we could and started singing The Lazy Song by Bruno Mars. Just as the train stops at the foot of the hill, Kid comes towards us

"EXCUSE MEEEE I hate that song, can you PLEASE shut up?"

Brother goes "Yeah well I hate you, but I don't ask you to fuck off"

Hoozah.

Epic Brother

English cafe on top of the hill

Do not stare up my...nostrils dammit

You can take the girl out of the poser, but you'll never take the poser out of the girl

Parents, they're for life.

Till next time,
Cheers!

*Hello there. if you're reading this, you obviously know what an asterisk is used for. Good for you! If are just a randomly browsing citizen of Punk Chopsticks, please enjoy your stay, ignore my evident lack of patriotism and do leave a comment on your way out. However, if you are an employee at the scary ISA-throw-innocent-people-like-me-in-jail place, stop right there. I HAVE A BASEBALL BAT!!!

Sex Theme Park

2011-08-01T20:46:00.001+08:00

Drink, gamble and shop in an Islamic country. Travel Genting ; ).

These past few days, my boo and I have been planning a not-so-quiet excursion to Genting Highlands (Malaysia's very own Sin City-slash-amusement theme park high above the typical panty sweating Malaysian heat). When I came across some pictures of an interesting place.

Behold, Jeju Loveland - A sexual themed park on the Island of Love in...South Korea??

That's right baby, we Asians give you kinky time ya?

But bad grammar and even worse steryotypes aside, Jeju Loveland (제주러브랜드) (also known as Love Land) is an outdoor sculpture park focused on a theme of sex - running sex education films, and featuring 140 sculptures representing humans in various sexual positions. It also has other elements such as large phallus statues, stone labia, and hands-on exhibits such as a "masturbation-cycle." The park's website describes the location as "a place where love oriented art and eroticism meet."

Travel author Simon Winchester reported that there were people employed as "Icebreakers" until sometime in the late 1980's. Icebreakers were paid to help young, shy couples relax and become comfortable with the idea of sex with their new partner. They preformed lap dances and entertained in ways that would give couples ideas for their "act."

As if that weren't enough, path markers are shaped like wieners. Wieners with testicles. Signs that warn visitors they are fast approaching an exhibit are decorated with sexually explicit pictures replicating the upcoming statue but the really funny thing is they are done in a traditional clip-art kind of way. Think of the people on the signs of the women's room, yea, like that.

One particular signs depicts a pink featureless woman licking an equally featureless blue man's lollipop. Below the picture are the words, "Oh Good." Another sign illustrates the same blue and pink people, however this time one of them is on their hands and knees and the other is penetrating from behind. The sign's text says, "Oh, oops."

[Warning: do not scroll below the dotted line if you get giggly at the sight of people getting it ON]

...............................................................................................................................

Spiderman obviously has terrible aim

Centaur and woman...Good god, what next, teen girl and werewolf?

I slipped...

One of the more innocent ones

Hello there, I can see that you're busy but...

Viva la Free

2011-07-23T09:36:00.002+08:00

I'm sitting in the cafeteria.

Alone.

And my back is burning, literally burning from the looks I'm getting...that itchy, hot feeling when someone stares down your shoulder. All of a sudden my neck is too naked, too sweaty, everything is dripping down my collar. I'm not sitting right, or right enough. My hair looks like a frigging mess, but I can't fix that. Not now. Not when everyone's looking my way.

Then when I turn around, nothing. Nothing. Fuck. No. Nada. Nope. It's just me again.

It sucks. Being alone sucks. But I need this, because if I don't do this now, learn how to be alone again, then how will I remain standing the next time another wave crashes? I don't want to be alone...nobody wants to be alone...but sometimes we are, and we suffer for it.

Heres a post from another blogger:

As a child, I couldn’t imagine that anything existed apart from my presence, and this resulted in the happy thought that the entire universe was but a product of my imagination. Only later did there settle upon me the horrifying realization that this could only mean that I was completely and inexorably alone.

The fact is, that sometimes people do leave you. People change and grow up and fucking leave you (Yes, I do have issues here) And If I could, I'd grab everyone I love and haul them on my shoulders, carry them on my back the entire fucking journey just so they wouldn't have to. Just so they'd be with me every second of the way.

But life doesn't work like that...and so I sat in my chair crying my eyes out with snot dripping down my chin because I didn't think that I could go on if people kept going their own way and leaving me by myself. WHAT ABOUT ME?! What will I be reduced to if this keeps happening??

It's taking time to build myself up again - everyone has to do this once or twice in their life. But I know I won't be the same person when I'm done. I know beggars can't pick and choose and all, but I'm going to be a stronger person out of this all, Yep even if it kills me. Tee hee.

People aren't boxes you can label. I'm not going to make the same mistake by restricting who I am by defining myself.

I am Clarissa.

I am scared of being alone.

I love being alone.

I love myself.

Viva la Free

Geek for Love (Thats what I am)

2011-07-18T20:44:00.002+08:00

Being the cheapskate that I am, I wrote this poem for my boyfriend as a gift.

Theres no denying it's coolness, it's got all the makings of a revolution: Annoying geek references to (one of) his favorite manga, cheesy declarations of love, and some lines where, really, I'm just grasping at straws.

Okay, so mabe it isn't that cool. but I'm the antithesis of cool, I'm hot. (OhO! Ho ho...hohoho. Ho)

So Ninja, this one's for you.

There's no Shaymin letting you know how I feel,

'Cause Ekans-ee that what we've got between us is so real.

I don't want to Leavanny thing unspoken in my head,

So I thought I'd Raichu a poem only you can read instead.

When I'm feeling down all I gotta do is Pikachu,

And you smile lets me Absol-utely know you feel the same way too.

There isn't Anidorin the world that could keep us apart,

So come Mankey-p the key that leads into my heart.

Ps: I think my poetic tendencies have just reacched a new level of lame...

Dhamma Day: Hell with Valentines

2011-02-11T18:58:00.016+08:00

Well...Yeah.

Valentines Day is coming round the corner like one big moma you can't ignore. Try looking away, looking straight at her, hell, even looking at the puddle at your feet. It won't work, muchacho. 'Cause you know why? I'll tell you why. You're not the only one who can't help noticing her, people will point, talk, glance and blatantly ignore. Some will think "Hey, now that's a real woman....Dayumm" A select few will act all disgusted...Jerks. And others might try to pretend like they're all above the hype. "Oh...another chubbitto? Yawn...What's all the fuss about? Tsk tsk" But even then, they can't deny that it's there. They noticed it. And now they can't stop noticing it. Oh, and by "they", I mean "you." And "me"

This is, or course, a vague exemplification. What I really meant to say was: Try as you may, you cannot ignore Valentines Day. People will blog about it, print articles about it, talk about it, they will date and make out like it's the end of the world, sell chocolate candy, cotton bunnies, heart shaped lollipops...It's like a friggin Willy Wonka Factory whenever Febuary draws near.

So instead of posting the usual topics ("Five things to get for your girl", "Favorite valentines gift", "Going out with my boy" etc.) that will inevitably be popping up across the web as Febuary the 14th draws near, I thought I'd share some dhamma by Ajahn Brahm for the couples AND single people out there. It's time to remember what love really is, that soulmates don't have to get married, and that love is in the air.

For everyone.

~xXXx~

"The trouble with romance is that when the fantasy is dispelled, the ensuing disappointment can badly hurt us. In romantic love (As opposed to true love) we don't really love our partner; we only love the way they make us feel. It is the "high" we feel in their presence that we love. Which is why, when they are absent, we miss them, yearn for them, want to be with them. But like any high, it wears out after a while.

True love is selfless love. We are concerned only for the other person. We tell them, "The door of my heart will always be open to you, whatever you do" and we mean it. We just want them to be happy. True love is rare.

Many of us like to think that our special relationship is true love, not romantic love. Here's a test for you to discover which type of love it is:

Think of your partner. Picture them in your mind. Recall the day you came together and the wonderful times you have enjoyed ever since. Now imagine receiving a letter from you partner. It tells you that they have fallen deeply in love with your best friend, and the two of them have run away to live together. How would you feel?

If it were true love, you would be thrilled that your partner had found someone even better than you, and is now even more happy. You would be delighted that your partner and best friend were having a good time together. You'd be ecstatic that they were in love. Isn't your partner's happiness the more important thing in true love?

Like I said, true love is rare

A queen was looking through the palace window at the Buddha walking for alms in the city. The king saw her and grew jealous of her devotion to the Great Monk. He confronted the queen and demanded to know who she loved the most, the Buddha or her husband? She was a devoted disciple of the Buddha, but in those days you had to be very careful if your husband happened to be the king. Losing your head meant losing your head. She kept her head and replied with endearing honesty "I love myself more than the both of you."

~xXXx~

So there's something to think about, this pink fluffy day of chocos. Happy V-Day, y'all!!

Being a BRAT

2011-02-09T16:46:00.004+08:00

I love writing.

There’s a godlike rush in being able to transfer your thoughts from mind to paper. It’s one of the reasons I became a blogger in the first place. Also, I always wanted to see the word Vagina right next to my name. Tee hee.

[In retrospect, they probably shouldn’t let me out into the real world with a license to publish when I grow up]

I may suck at it...but at least I try. I really do. So this year, I decided to go what-the-hell with the whole thing and sign up for BRATs camp.

BRATs (Stands for Bright Roving Annoying Teenagers, doncha know) is a journalism workshop where you have to submit an essay for evaluation before they (They, meaning the head honkos on top) decide whether you're good enough.

"Through this program, Malaysian youths 16-19 get to participate in a journalism workshop, learning the basics of newswriting and editing. Once the workshop has been completed, these youths officially become members of the BRATs, which allows them to write for the monthly Ole Brats supplement, participate in community service and youth projects, and gain exposure to a lot of issues and experiences. (While entrance to the initial workshops is limited to those aged 16-19, those in the BRATs program tend to be BRATs for life; they’re still open to participate in BRATs activities or write for BRATs if they want.) "

But even writing up my essay was a messy, sucky endeavor because if you knew anything about me, you'd know how self conscious I am about my prose. Oh no, not blogging, that's a different issue entirely. Get me to debate, rant, bitch, sure man I'm all up for it. But I've never been one to take writing seriously.

I've never joined a contest, wrote for the paper, that sorta thing, nope, nada, nuh uh. That'd be like raising our relationship to a whole new level, writing and I. I'm not sure I could take that sort of commitment. What if I'm not accepted? What if they thought it sucked eggs?? What then???

So hey, it's a bit too late for that now. I wrote it. I sent it. I spent twelve hours beating myself up. That's all water under the bridge now. I was meant to write about myself, but instead I wrote about my childhood when I should be writing about my likes, my dislikes, the stuff that EVERY EFFING PERSON wrote about.

Everyone except me. Shit.

But to quote the immortal words of P!nk, f*%k that. After the four stages of denial, I went back and read my submission and hell, it's not so bad. I might even be considered. Gosh, I sure hope I am.

So well, yeah. Enough procrastinating. Here's my submission for BRATs.

~xXx~

Me, talk about myself? Oh boy, where to begin.

Well to get a solid understanding of where and who I am today, I should probably provide a shadow of my past at the least. Now for a life story, conception’s usually a good place to start but this time I should probably just skip straight to birth. I was born in Penang on a blustery afternoon in 1994 after ten agonizing hours of labor. That right there folks, is one serious accomplishment for the twenty-something Malay literature teacher that was soon to be my mom. Imagine spending the past 600 minutes experiencing the worst case of constipation-slash-food-poisoning you could ever imagine, in a public hospital shielded by only the flimsiest of puke colored curtains, with your legs spread apart by two metal footholds of doom and having the doctor measure you every intermitting ten minutes.

Still, I’m glad she didn’t choose the easy way out. Because if she did and decided to adopt an African orphan, I probably wouldn’t be here typing what I am today. So, congrats mom, it’s a girl.

Said girl went on to become a princess, a novelist, a dreamer, a book thief, a journalist and finally settled on becoming a nun. Almost a week after my mom popped me out of her womb, we flew to America the beautiful, land of the free where I spent most of my childhood contemplating many things – usually death – but didn’t know how to put them into words just yet, so I approached my mother (Already proven to be a woman of many capabilities, achievements and a heart of solid gold) with this predicament and a simple request: teach me how to Grown Up Speak. What ensued was beyond my control. After that fateful day (or night, I can’t recall) I was ordered to sit in front of the living room computer every night and type something, anything, and as long as I was happy with what I produced, I could leave. At least until the next night. And the next. And the next.

This went on for about a year or two where my humble compositions steadily stacked up like a socialite’s credit card bills, me typing a poem or two every night and proudly handing the printed version to my mother who without fail, would exclaim and hold it to the sun (or moon) like an exalted hundred year old artifact. At the same time, I was introduced to the magical world of reading. I read horror stories, action novels, Marvel comics and generally any form of literature I could get my hands on. It didn’t matter what kind as long as it had words. Some stories stayed in my memory bank to this very day, while others were better off not being read at all. But it hardly mattered, because the idea of someone behind these black and white bundles of joy was exhilarating, I felt an intimacy with the author unlike anything I’d ever felt before. Someone was out there, behind their computer screen and they decided to let me, Clarissa Say, not just know what was on my mind but delve into the deepest corners of their imagination. Wow.

I fell in love with Stephen King’s idea of the macabre and Amy tan’s compassion. Anne Frank became my best friend throughout grade school and when I moved back to Malaysia, Tash Aw sent my sights hurtling back to a completely different era of Japanese occupation and British colonization. I learned from Da Chen how to notice every detail around me. The colors of the sky in the morning whilst I waited for my bus; a person’s expression of joy, irritation, anger, lust…the wonder never ends.

So all in all, this seems a pretty apt essay for a journalism workshop (You call it workshop, I call it camp) though it might be a bit snarky, a tad too frivolous and maybe a wee bit vague, but that’s just me. There’s a lot more I haven’t written but seriously, me? Fit it all in here? I’m not trying to give anyone a brain embolism.

~xXx~

Ta da.