Stuck in a mire
I am currently SWAMPED with work, all this due to lack of foresight, laziness, procrastination, complacence, et cetera et cetera.
It is ALL MY FAULT.
Okay and maybe Husband’s PSP which got me hooked onto the sims2.
Okay maybe it’s Ooyah’s fault because she is too cute and distracting.
Okay and also my non-existent metabolic rate which fails to provide energy from the food that I eat to keep me from sleeping.
Things to do and DEADLINES: Please don’t mind me while I scare myself to death.
29th March (Thurs): Sosiolinguistik presentation
-Lots of readings to do and NONE DONE!
Been sitting on the tonnes of books and essays, but just can’t seem to understand it! My groupmates are stuck here too!
30th March: Dr R’s Singapore Malay Lit assignment
Progress: Decided to do antologi cerpen Terminal Terakhir which I think is LAME. (This sentiment I have expressed to him and he said it’s okay to mention it in my essay. Gee, can I say this? “Pada pendapat saya, antologi cerpen ini TEMPANG *lame* dan boleh juga berbaur KELDAI TEMPANG *lame ass*”)
- HIGH STRESS LEVEL FOR THIS ONE: Dr R expects another A+ from me. The pressure is further aggravated last thursday after he zapped my WHOLE exam script from last year, all four questions, and distributed it to the whole class as ‘model answers’.
Thanks dr, for the recognition given to me, tapi as I said to you, after reading my answer script, I feel so ashamed of my keldai tempang answers. I’m sure there are students out there who are saying “Hmmph! INI model answer? What the…”
Because that’s how I felt when I read MY answers.
And when I told this to him, he nicely said,”Saya ingin menunjukkan kepada yang lain bahawa analisis sastera dapat dilakukan dalam keterbatasan peperiksaan, dan jawapan awak ialah contoh yang baik”. Cheyyybah. Kembang rear-end aku.
And I sorta have promised him I WILL get that A+. (Because I’m indebted to him for lending me sutan’s extinct books.)
GULP.
2nd April: Canon Presentation
-Acquired lots of reading materials from/about Sutan Takdir Alisjahbana
2nd April: Canon Essay DUE!
- NOTHING DONE! HAVEN’T EVEN DECIDED ON AN AUTHOR!!!
Nak buat siapa ni????
- Shahnon Ahmad?
- Keris Mas?
- Chairil Anwar?
DEFINITELY NOT DOING:
- Hikayat Hang Tuah (gila ke apa korang?)
- Sejarah Melayu (boring gila ah cita ni!!! lepas baca confirm brain aneurysm!)
- Abdullah Munsyi (tak minat langsung ah si anglophile ni!)
- Sutan Takdir Alisjahbana (sudah takdir aku tak buat ni…)
- Masuri SN (puisi-puisi dia tak appealing to me at all! Apasal takde Mohd Latiff Mohd ni?!!!!)
2nd April: Sosio Essay DUE!
- Okay. This one basically depends on the presentation done of 29th March, so should be OKAY! DON’T THINK ABOUT THIS YET!
11th April: Academic Discourse Essay DUE!
- HAVEN’T piloted the surveys/ interviews yet!
- Acquired readings, but NOT TOUCHED!
THis module I have basically given up on because it is so tedious and crappy. I think I will do it the night before.
AAAARGGGGHHHH MATILAH AKU JEBATTTTTTT!
Because you’re beautiful like the rainbow.
The dove advertisement some time back made me sing the song ‘true colours’ over and over again. At first I felt it was a sweet idea to put forth, that every girl is beautiful in her own way. But when I pondered upon it, not only did it make me realize that it’s just another marketing scam, but also,that beauty, at the end of the day, is what girls want to be associated with, no matter how intrinsic it may be. Beauty has become such an asset. Like you need it, you know, to survive in this world. Now you may not be drop-dead gorgeous because of your obvious flaws, but hey, just know that you have it in you, this beauty element. Only then can you face the world, feeling beautiful.
What happened to intelligence? What happened to gracefulness? What happened to wit and eloquence?
Is beauty all that matters?
When I was a little girl, weekly visits to my paternal grandma’s meant a whole day of playing with cousins. There were about a dozen of us, boys and girls, of about the same age range that would be playing together. And for my group of playmates, the game of choice would be bimbotic Miss Universe or kawin-kawin.
Now amongst us, there is one cousin who I would say looks different from the rest of us because of her mixed parentage. She has some sorta north indian blood, so you can imagine how she looks in comparison to us pedigree malays.
For Miss Universe, it is an accepted fact that she is the best looking one, and she will undeniably win the ‘title’ EVERY DAMN TIME. And it’s okay, that she wins, because it is a known truth. We all know it and accept it. It’s ‘the right thing to do’. And the judge would be the ‘compere’ herself, a cousin who is 3-4 years older than us. One day I got so sick of it, that I want to be Miss Universe for once because my answers are damn good, really, and I threw a tantrum. Of course, for that round, I ‘won’ the title, grudgingly and you can hear it in the ‘compere’s dissatisfied voice. This compere really gets on my nerves, as you can guess, because she would do anything to win the favour of the pretty cousin. Maybe she thinks, hey, if I’m in her good books I’ll be good looking like she is!
And for kawin-kawin, of course this same cousin will be the bride, always paired up with the most compatible looking Malay cousin, who also has a dollop of indian blood of sorts. Kira macam hero dan heroine hindustan gitulah.
I will always, forever be, 3rd of 4th runner-up in the pageant, and forever, the tukang kipas-kipas. And I was resigned to that fate because I knew I wasn’t good looking enough, no matter if my answer beats Aisywarya Rai’s even. I just accepted it.
Because I was born in the same year as this pretty cousin, we were very close. We slept over each other’s house in the holidays, had the same outfits, had the same shoes, had the same toys. Then people would say, “These two are like twins”, and I would mutter under my breath, no, we’re obviously not. She’s pretty and I’m not.
20 odd years have passed. I suppose I may still not excel in the beauty department, but I must say that amongst all my cousins, I have gone quite far. Maybe if you put it in pageant terms, I would be the Miss Universe of it all, many times over. The ‘compere’ I think, after spending an eternity in polytechnic and never seeming to graduate, is pursuing something in Australia. God knows what but a basic degree in nursing doesn’t take forever like a degree in Medicine. The pageant contestants all quit school after sec 4, and Miss Universe herself dropped out at sec 2 or 3. Got married. Kids. All these when I was fresh out of NIE and starting a career. People were already starting families.
It was something I was subjected to as a child, to know that you haven’t exactly been blessed in the looks department. I wasn’t bitter about it or anything, really. To me, it didn’t do much more than win those bimbotic Miss Universe (which I was secretly hoping to win every time) and my mom never made a big deal out of it. What she made a big deal out of, was, for me to excel in my studies. For me to behave myself.
I never want my baby girl to be subjected to such little cruelties. You know kids can be the most damndest things on earth, the meannest. Looks are everything to kids. If you’ve got long hair, petite, girlie, you’re pretty. You can be the stupiddest block of wood in class, but you’re pretty, and you’ll be popular. But if you’ve got short hair, plump, brown, you’re condemned. The names start coming in and it doesn’t matter that you’re 1st in standard for 3 years running. Kids don’t care about that.
I want my daughter to know, even if she’s the most beautiful thing that walked the face of this earth, that looks aren’t everything. That looks doesn’t count for anything, other than a following of goons and bimbos. What reigns is your character, your intelligence, your self-worth. Beauty is a bonus, but without it, you will be fine. Maybe even better.
For my babygirl Aurelia Sarah, for when the world gets too cruel.
You with the sad eyes
Don’t be discouraged
Oh I realize
It’s hard to take courage
In a world full of people
You can lose sight of it all
And the darkness there inside you
Makes you feel so smallBut I see your true colours
Shining through
I see your true colours
That’s why I love you
So don’t be afraid to let them show
Your true colours
True colours are beautiful,
Like a rainbow
Show me a smile then,
And don’t be unhappy, can’t remember when
I last saw you laughing
If this world makes you crazy
And you’ve taken all you can bear
You call me up
Because you know I’ll be there
And I see your true colours
Shining through
I see your true colours
That’s why I love you
So don’t be afraid to let them show
Your true colours
True colours are beautiful,
Like a rainbow
I can’t remember
When I last saw you laugh
If this world makes you crazy
And you’ve taken all you can bear
You call me up
Because you know I’ll be there
And I see your true colours
Shining through
See your true colours
That’s why I love you
So don’t be afraid to let them show
Your true colours, true colours
Are beautiful like a rainbow
I see your True colours shining through
See your true colours
That’s why I love you
So don’t be afraid to let them show
Your true colours
Your true colours are beautiful,
Like a rainbow.
STAMP ‘EM BIMBOS LIKE ROACHES!!!
Is being tagged like…playing tag?
Hello everyone. Pinky, thanks for missing my blog. Didn’t know anyone would notice.
How’s the new blog design? Very sleepy hollow rite?
I was tagged by my friend dyann some time back before I got sick and while I was sick, I did think a looooong time about 7 weird things about me.
I can’t think of anything weird about me, really. I don’t have any OCD symptoms like not walking on lines and stuff like that. I even asked the husband what’s weird about me and he said I’m boncit. Yah, but a lot of other people are boncit what. Like himself.
So I managed to come up with some things which I hope are weird enough. (???)
1) The concept of folding up clothes does not make sense to me. I find it useless.
So you spend one whole day folding up a basketful of clothes, arrange, straightening it out…
Let’s say you’re going out, you have to unfold that outfit and still iron it to get rid of the lines, correct?
And when you’re at home, you don’t care what the baby thinks of your baju butterfly or china mikey mouse, correct?
So I don’t fold my clothes. I leave them in a pile in the spare room, tug it out and iron it.
For the clothes in my drawers, all those folded by my hubby because (this is the best part of it all) he is a stickler for neatness.
My friend geet was just explaining to the husband about this concept that day- how amazing my wardrobe is. There’ll be a tower of clothes, all
laundered, and I will spend, say, 1 minute looking at it, see a bit of what I want to wear, use all my might to tug it out while she prays the tower
doesn’t collapse. And it never does. Amazing or what? I got skill, baby.
2) When I sleep, I must hang on to my lowest spare tyre.
Its presence makes me feel secure, its girth and sheer weight. Maybe it’s a feeling of contentment too, like, hey- I grew this! It’s mine!
Or maybe this hope that gee, maybe when I wake up, and I can’t find it to hang on to it- maybe I’d become slim overnite! (Okay that last bit isn’t
true. I never hope for such beautiful things).
3) When I wake up, I bathe first, not brush my teeth first.
I try to push back brushing my teeth because I want my breath to be as fresh as possible. So, postpone it to after the shower before contact with
another human being.
4) I get defensive and abusive when people stare at me.
I hate it when someone looks me up and down and it is written on their faces, how they are trying to fathom why I’m so big. Such people do not
get away easily. I will speak loudly to whoever is with me and start a torrent of insults towards that person to the point that they cannot tahan
and leave. (Sorry if whatever I say next offends anyone. I say them only to highlight what the person is lacking in because they scrutinise my
abundance.)I’ll say things like, “Nevermind, look all you want. I understand lah, your defective breasts can’t grow to half of mine” or “Eee…put on
such thick make up but still cannot hide the ugly face eh. So pitiful.” They become very malu and leave. Some of them are actually ashamed
because I think they just don’t realize that they are staring with such awe in their eyes and that’s just what pisses me off. If i am alone, i will even
go up to the person and say, “why? what’s wrong?” or “why? never see fat person before is it?” in my pailang ways. They just shake their head
hurriedly and leave. Takut jugak eh.
Moral of the story: DON’T STARE or you’ll be sorry.
5) I play god. To the sims.
I put it as a weird thing about me because I don’t know anybody else who plays it as passionately as I do. I even have
dreams that I am in the sims world, or sometimes think i have a lot of money because i get confused with my sims’ simoleons. I have them all,
even for my xbox and thinking of getting it for the husband’s psp as well. I am CRAZY about this game because they are just like human beings
and I get to be their god. I make them meet, I make them play, sleep, meet somebody, do it, have kids, make em work, make em sick, and
sometimes I kill them. I drown them. Set them on fire. Electrocute them. Or starve them for days.
I love that last part.
6) On a gloomy day, I have a penchant for all colourful stationery.
When I go to popular on under-the-weather days, I will subconsciously horde up things that are colourful. Especially PAPERS. Notepads, erasers,
pens…all brightly coloured. It just makes me happy. I have so many colourful stationery ooyah does not have to buy any, and even ooyah’s kids,
and grandkids. Which is why they all have to be locked up in the storeroom because I have too many gloomy
days I suppose.
7) I do not have a credit card.
In fact, I’ve NEVER had a credit card. I can get one, or two, or three. But I don’t.
Sometimes I wish I had, but knowing the way I spend, I do not want to be in a situation where I amass huge debts and have to painfully worry
about them every month. I have heard many horror stories of credit card debts and it scares me.
So I use the husband’s.
THERE. 7 weird things about me. Some are not that weird I guess. Well what can I do about that? I can’t exactly go and nurture or develop some form of weird behaviour right just to complete this tag?
And I guess I’m supposed to tag someone else, but I won’t. I can’t run lah, that’s why I hate playing tag.
