January 15, 2010 § Leave a comment
I have found an amusing email rant I wrote some 10 years ago, while I was still living in Malaysia:
Dear Me, Queky, Big Boss, Senile-Old-Dino, Hantu, Cacats, Futtuteirus, Suvs, Ahteks, Weng, Kitt, Fooks, Changyen, & Kaipohsan,
limbo (lim/bo), m.,pl. 1. a place or state of oblivion to which persons or things are regarded as being relegated when cast aside, forgotten, past, or out of date. 2. intermediate inactive or neglected state.
The other meaning of it focuses within a region on the border of hell or heaven, but I thought ‘intermediate inactive or neglected state’ seemed more appropriate. Since everyone seems to have crawled into their lil hole of obscurity once again, there’s nothing like some absolute bitchin’ to kickstart the upcoming new month of June.
Seems to me that everyone who is currently in the working world really has gone to a place of oblivion – make that ALMOST everyone, unlike us, G is obviously working hard at pouring his little heart out. Not sharing his enthusiasm, I start my complaining.
First, I work at a crap place. When I step out of my car every morning, I walk through a barren land of filth and used condoms on the uneven surface of the dusty ground. I walk past the corner restaurant, trying not to fall into the grime-filled drain clogged with puke-coloured food ‘pieces and stuff’. I also try not to bump into the friendly neighbourhood madman, who occasionally sits in his wheelchair in the middle of the road waving his hands about and cursing innocent passers-by like myself. Most of all, I try not to get run down by big scary-ass buses who whiz by inches in front of me, forgetting that human life is rampant in that area.
A few doors away from the disease-ridden food stalls (the LOOK disease-ridden), I reach the clinic door, trying not to brush against the red blood-stained white tiled walls, which by now, is a brownish colour. We have to walk through the clinic, because although we have our own door, a group of drug addicts getting their daily fix doesn’t seem very professionally appropriate for anyone who is looking around for an architect’s office. So, our real entrance is locked, sealed and obsolete while we saunter upstairs through the clinic. But of course, we love the nurses downstairs because they occasionally feed us.
Once upstairs, I see our familiar haven’t-been-cleaned-in-ages carpet tiles and I plop my stuff down on the table, dreading the rest of the day, dreading to go to the bathroom through this scary-ass long corridor, dreading to look down the corridor which overlooks this scary-ass burnt-down building which has this scary-ass window with a creepy-looking aloe vera plant plonked in between ragged curtains and broken shutters. I would provide a more detailed story of ‘The Bathroom Light Which Suddenly Came On’, but I shall save the rest (tranvestites and all that) for another day.
Second, although being in this line surrounds me with men 90% of the time, unfortunately half of that come in the form of slimy-looking old pot-bellied contractors or nerdy-looking suppliers. The rest look like Phua Chu Kang.
Last, my mind has been feeling at a limbo. That’s my excuse for not writing. Is everyone else in limbo too? Ok, not so quiet anymore. I crawl back now.
Interestingly, as I read through that email, all the memories of my first job came flooding back to me, and it appears I have not lost any of my charming whinging qualities. Also, I seemed to like the word ‘scary-ass’ very much. I am ace.
May 27, 2009 § 2 Comments
Out of nowhere, apparently I am headed to the lion’s land tomorrow morning, where chewing gum is forbidden and the streets are clean (I suppose thanks to the chewing gum rule). It’s a country I’ve been to countless times yet this will be the first ‘touristy’ visit in years. I will be spending around 48 hours there, and have no idea what to do.
And that’s my dull update for the day. I apologize, my brain has not been functioning very well this past week.
May 26, 2009 § 2 Comments
Ok, ok, so I’ve been lazy, and just haven’t got a good yarn up my sleeve. But what has transpired in the past week:
Indulged in Heroes mania and watched all three seasons to drool over the hot evil bad guy.
Eaten (yes, it’s a word) so much food that I have forgotten what hunger feels like.
Been told that apparently, I no longer snore as much. Either that or Mr Visitor is being polite.
Finally visited the Petronas Twin Towers skybridge, almost 10 years after it opened.
Woke up at 6am for the first time in 9 months.
Finished reading Vernon God Little, damn hilarious story.
Totally regretted watching Hellboy 2 and Wanted.
Will I have similarly exciting posts next week?
May 20, 2009 § 4 Comments
Like all normal people, about once every couple of years I go through boxes of stuff that used to belong to me while living in my parents’ house many many years ago. Every time I throw things away that loses meaning and/or sentimental value as time ticks on by. It’s 2009 now, and I’ve narrowed it down to one small box of stuff that I can never bring myself to discard.
It’s full of a bunch of letters from people I knew when I was 15, back when email wasn’t fashionable, who wrote to me when I had to say goodbye to them. From the contents of these letters I can safely establish that I was a whole different breed of crazy 15 years ago yet amazingly the authors of these letters are now still my friends. As I read these letters, I couldn’t help but be glad that I’m no longer the negative, hostile, and terribly angry person I used to be. For the life of me I really can’t figure out where all that angst stemmed from, but I guess somewhere somehow the demons went away. Or perhaps they still lurk around somewhere in depths of my dark soul but I haven’t really seen them for a while.
For all of you folks who put up with all the shit, thanks for sticking around. I think I’ll never throw these letters away, so I can open them up every now and then to remind me not to be such a major asshole.
May 18, 2009 § 4 Comments
For as long as I can remember, goodbyes have been a constant occurrence in my life. From the very moment I came of academic age, I have been moved around school to school to suit my parents’ fickle tastes. Starting out in a public school for a year or two and whisked right out to a private school before I had the chance to grow into the blue and white uniforms. I said goodbye to my little friends then it was off to a more ‘reputable’ school. Before I barely had a chance to make proper girlie enemies they took me right out again and shipped me off to San Francisco. Goodbye swanky school, hello middle-class America.
Then it was middle school for a few months, then the shortest freshman year in the world in an American High School I can’t even recall the name of. I think I spent a week there, then off to yet a different high school because we moved to a different suburb. Which makes me wonder now, why did I even bother to go to the first one? Another mystery. So I continued freshman and subsequently sophomore year in Abraham Lincoln High and this time stayed 2 years to actually make meaningful connections with people. They became really good friends of mine who I really bonded with but then the parents decided this was the perfect time to pack everyone up back to Malaysia. I wanted to stay, but at 15, without any rights, I had to say goodbye yet again.
Then it was a different kind of high school education again and I started over. College came next, and this time instead of me saying goodbye, other people bade me farewell and went separate ways. Suddenly I found myself going off to Australia. I suppose what I’m rambling on about is I’ve said goodbye so many times now that I’ve become immune to it. I’ve also come to realize that goodbyes aren’t forever, and that the people we care about, our true friends, we will always meet again no matter time or distance. This time, no more goodbyes for me, for a while at least, and if the time does arise again, I’ll just say ‘fuck you’ and move on. Just like I always have.
May 17, 2009 § 4 Comments
Once upon a time I used to be a Malaysian driver. Young and carefree, I cruised the crazy streets and maneuvered 4-lane roundabouts with foolish confidence. I drove everywhere from Point A to Point B to Point Z with not a worrisome thought in the world, shooting dirty looks and giving the finger to whoever I deemed a stupid driver. The roads were mine when I was 17 and fearless was my middle name.
That feels like a gazillion years ago, and I haven’t driven a car in this country for almost 10 years. Now the roads make me feel insignificant, the motorbikes rule, and I don’t know my way around anymore. All the drivers seem to be consumed with a silent road rage which I never noticed those many years ago. Probably at that time my own road rage-ness overshadowed everything else.
These days I play the role of humble passenger who has no idea where everywhere is, and with that in mind I sit quietly in the backseat while someone else does the driving. I usually shut my brain off and let the car move along. Most of the time I’m just scared shitless and I like distracting myself by day-dreaming of pretty things. Oh yes, ignorance is bliss.