behind the glamour

growing up, i've learnt to accept that even the shiniest things had either experienced, or will experience a rusty phase, or maybe it was flawed all along but it was clever enough to keep it's imperfection hidden from the world

the universe if fair like that

I've been doing some thinking throughout the entire week.

How do medical students have the same duration of 24 hours per day and juggle their time between:

- keeping up with lectures (at least read whatever that's been taught on that day)

- attend lectures (and stay awake during lectures)

- understanding the lectures

- reading from sources beyond the lecture notes

- revise previous lectures (currently 2 file-full after 3 months)

- remember whatever revised

- sleep by midnight

- maintain or expand social circle (catch up with old friends and meet new ones)

- keep track with society

- keep track with entertainment (ie. movies and series)

- keep their hobbies (ie. leisure reading)

- not get fat (because 8am lectures and coffee vending machines)

- exercise at least twice a week (haven't done so in idk-I-can't-even-remember)

- spend time with family 

- not feel retarded when you can't answer a question and your coursemates can

- have faith that you'll make it through

- making it through

- getting something that's more than a 'pass'

- still be sane after that

Sometimes I think that we are more like magicians in training.

soul sister

A Sunday morning spent taking the LRT to Sentral, meeting the best friend and taking her to the city center via her first Monorail ride.

Breakfast consisting a bowl of long-craved beef noodles and 2 overpriced Popiah at Rm3 each.

Walking the whole of Pavilion in search of the perfect dessert and ended up with dark chocolate + matcha soft serve in Tokyo street.

Free loading samples of  posh-looking cakes from the new Lavender Patisserie, Nitrogen ice cream and herbal tea (LOL).

Walking to Imbi as an excuse to past by Starhill Gallery, taking the glass elevator deliberately although the escalator was obviously more time-efficient, then strolling around in the almost-empty Fahrenheit 88.

Finally settling down in Tous les Jours for more carbs, thinking that we would leave at 4pm. Snoozed till 4.30pm and it began to drizzle. Watched as drizzle turned into rain, and rain into storm. Joked about having dinner and supper in TLJ and spend a night in Grand Mellennium. Wondered how umbrella vendors appeared suddenly out of nowhere.

Finally decided to detach our butts from the chairs and head towards the Monorail station, and parted in Hang Tuah.

KL City had never felt more like home.

I believe that there are quite a few people that would go to TLJ with me.

But as for one that is willing to sit by a counter-top with me overlooking the busiest cross-junction in the city, sharing a Pain au Chocolat and a huge sweet potato bun, sipping 2 bottles of Snappers, watching the clouds dominating the glaring afternoon sun, knowing that there was a storm coming, and yet still willing to be my sole company for 3 hours straight?

One that appreciates my silent observation of strangers dashing across the roads despite the working traffic lights and the trays of food emerging from the kitchen, and also managing to come up with random topics to babble about for 3 hours straight?

One that listens to all my nonsense without judging, without trying to fix me or the situation, and just listen?

One that speaks about her own issues and doesn't expect me to come up with a solution either?

One that's perfectly okay when I've gone all quiet to allow my mind to drift a little after a few conversations?

I don't think that I'm capable of meeting many of these people.

But one is enough, and I can't be more grateful for her.

Tuesday

Today: morning lecture by a Burmese lecturer who was 20 minutes late, PBL discussion that ended with sexual function issues, surprising a college friend,  red velvet cake and free-loading Papa John's  for lunch, blogging (when I was suppose to be studying) in the library  while waiting for my 4.30pm clinical skills session.

So I'm at that point of my life when my Google search engine's latest history is filled with words like 'autacoids', 'antihistamine' or 'therapeutic index', and my table half-occupied by 2 files of lecture notes, a pathology text book and an ancient pharmacology reference book passed down from my mom. 

It's just the beginning, they say, and I don't doubt it. 

On the bright side, I don't mind having my life dominated by medicine, not yet at least. Although this path promises nothing but major sleep deprivation somewhere down the road and maybe a little loss or gain of weight due to immense stress and the stacks of ever-expanding notes alongside the knowledge that's going allow me to save lives someday, I hope I'll never truly mind dedicating my life to this line of profession. I hope by the end of the day, I'll be able to say that I wouldn't have it any other way.

Me: *beaming in excitement* So what's for lunch?

Him: *shrugs* Dunno? For life, you la!

He comes up with the best replies and comebacks all the time but he'll also be very satisfied and proud of himself so I don't even bother giving any credits. I mean, he's already drowning himself with self-compliments. Why should I add on to it and make him feel like some immortal super-being? (Lol I still love you) But even I was impressed with this one, so I figured it deserves to be featured here.

I just want you to know that we are all made of flaws, thousands and millions of flaws. There are so much more of what we cannot do than what we can. We're not born to be perfect or to impress. We're not born to be accepted by everyone we come across. But there will always be those handful of people who manage to see beyond your imperfection, or maybe they just couldn't care less of what you aren't and what you'll never be. They don't want perfection, they just want you because that's all they care about, you.

For whatever you're trying to do, whoever you're striving to be, they'll always be sticking around, ready to catch you if you fall. They'll always be on stand-by mode to be leaned on when you're tired from working too hard to be THAT version of yourself you desire to be, and silently wishing that their opinions and their acceptance were enough to give you all the assurance you need. 

To do

8 months.

I'm pretty sure our honeymoon period is quite over now, I think, but that doesn't mean we can't do stuff that makes life look a little bit more like a fairytale right? I know, my daydreams and I. But I swear these are pretty legit.

1. Lie on the grass, under a sky full of stars - I don't care how overrated this is, it may only seem sweet in movies and our skins may itch and we may be attacked by mosquitoes, but allow me to daydream until I find out myself

2. Movie marathon with ice cream and cookies - since you like vanilla and I'm all chocolate, let's get peanut butter ones

3. Drive for hours - to wherever, be it for a day trip or spend a night, being in a confined space, just you and me and the highway sounds as good as cendol on a sunny day

4. Spend a whole day on the beach - build sand castles and watch the sunset, or basically just any sunset anywhere because I know you'll never agree to wake up for sunrise lol

5. Talk, not about school or people or whatever that's going on - talk, about you and me, about us and about our dreams

6. Bake or cook - and mess up the kitchen, and maybe the food, or getting me frustrated and end up taking over everything instead, but it will be interesting

7. Go to a theme park - just us (you know I'd insist on Disneyland if the nearest one isn't 4 hour by plane)

8. Tour KL city like a tourist - ie. Public transport, tourist attractions, getting lost and food from Petaling Street

Thank you, for always being here for me, for tolerating my nonsense, for making me laugh in the middle of an argument. You're another kind of fairytale. The kind that makes me feel like a princess who had found her prince, the kind that doesn't need a castle or a fire-breathing dragon, the kind that makes me want to wake up every morning. Fairy dust fades and gets blown away by the slightest wind, but your kind of magic gets stronger with every hurricane.

Thank you, for being a wishing well that actually works, for making granting my wishes your life purpose. You spoil me, and I'm not complaining. But sometimes I wish you would tell me what you want instead and let me spoil you a little bit too.

As much as I'm into overrated fairytale stories about a prince in shining armor, I'm well aware that what we have, what our relationship really is, is way more than bedtime stories told to little girls. We have our own story line, our own kind of kingdom that we're building, that is worth drawing our swords for. It's not wanting to see each other all the time, it's wanting to be the one you come back to after a long tiring day. It's not just laughing at your jokes, it's willing to hear you rant about that asshole you encountered today.

It's knowing that whatever you do, wherever you are, we'll always have each other.

"In its own microscopic way, becoming cancerous is about the most glamorous and successful thing a cell can do. An ordinary, non-cancerous cell is a plodding drone of a thing ... it beavers away for its genetically allotted span, reproduces itself by splitting into mother and daughter cells, dies. [By contrast], the cancerous cell wants to go places, do things that its parents never had the chance to do. A cancer cell is the one that never grows up, [that] bears all the nastier traits of reckless youth. It defies order, goes where it likes and above all believes itself to be immortal ... the cancer cell would live for ever [sic] were it not that doing so does away with the host upon which it needs to live."

- Because Cowards Get Cancer Too, John Diamond

Babble

Another entry typed as the train travels south, racing towards life, away from home. I'm addicted to the feeling of being around my family, although I spend quite a few minutes convincing mom that my little brother is an inconsiderate brat has the mentality of a toddler. Maybe a little hint of hyperbole but it's pretty much a sheer, lucid, translucent truthful statement that no amount of justification can convince me otherwise.

But I figured that I shouldn't write about home and all the perks that come along with these four beautifully arranged alphabets. Instead, I'll come out with another list, about myself. How exciting is that?

1. I'm a classic introvert. 

But that doesn't mean that I'm always that silent, withdrawn creep that judges everybody from a far corner, never bothering to introduce myself to anybody or start conversations of any kind with strangers. I am capable of taking the first step in developing acquaintanceship among strangers, or be the person who comes out with the key idea in a group discussion, or have fun talking nonsense and laughing at jokes in a party. 

I have higher tolerance over silence. In fact, I think the difference between introverts and extroverts is that we value, and need, silence more. We (or maybe it's just me) don't need to have a lot of people around us all the time, because being alone is fine too, it brings a kind of peace that is rather comfortable. Being alone doesn't mean that I'm lonely. As cliche as it sounds, one can feel lonely even when surrounded by hundreds of enthusiastic people. Sometimes, big noisy crowds are just too overwhelming. I'll always prefer small, close groups, so that everyone (be it just 2 or 3 person) pays attention to everyone. I think, attention means everything in all relationship. We don't need to be always talking, but at least when we do, listen and response.

2. I'm a reader, but only when it comes to romantic novels or series that are eventually made into films that people who does serious reading (ie. literature-sort-of-reading) call 'overrated' or 'poorly written' or 'shallow'.

I like chick flicks, I'm in love with Sophie Kinsella and Meg Cabot. I've read every single book by Jodi Picoult, most by Nicholas Sparks, Julia Quinn, Jennifer Smith, Cecelia Ahern and John Green. I have the entire 'I Am Number Four' series, and the Hunger Games and Divergent. I love the Twilight Saga (the books not movies), I don't even feel like reading Inferno now because it's too deep and intense. 

The only classics I've finished are Hamlet, A Tale of Two Cities, Silas Marner and A Midsummer Night's Dream, because we had literature sessions for my English tuition in high school. She taught us the Rhyme of an Ancient Mariner too but I can only recall a huge bird and water everywhere.

3. I don't believe in ghosts (or God or any supernatural power), but I don't watch horror movies (and I attended Sunday School and Dharma classes).

4. I don't believe in the 'one true love' theory,  but I hope that it exists.

I think, who you end up with all depends on the paths you take, the decisions you make and the chances you didn't let slip between your fingers. Of course also factors like geography and timing.

But I hope that there is that special someone made specially for you in heaven, that you'll find each other one way or another. Then at least everybody will have somebody somehow.

5. I've been playing classical music since I was like... 5... I've been to recitals, concerts and performances, even by MPO, but the only one I really enjoyed was the Disney themed one when I was quite young, and I always feel sleepy watching sopranos. And I hate Bach. 

6. I've come to acceptance that I can't do sports or games for nuts. I can't sing or act to save my life, or draw well enough to earn me a meal. I don't have the imagination to come up with scenarios that can intrigue people, or enough vocabulary to write a story that exceeds two pieces of paper.

But I'm quite convinced that I can cook and bake, and take pictures attractive enough to show off what I cooked and baked. 

7. I've also come to understand that I don't have the discipline to go on a diet. 

What if I die tomorrow? I will die regretting that I didn't eat that slice of chocolate cake and deciding to have salad instead of fish and chips last night.

And please, how is a scoop of peanut butter ice cream and buttermilk waffles going to make me fat? Me walking to the ice cream shop, thinking of what flavour to get, breathing in that lovely smell of fresh waffles consumes enough ATP to burn a quarter of the calories on that plate.

8. I like Taylor Swift's music.

I don't care if she's shallow and whinny and only disses her ex boyfriends. Her music speaks to me.

9. I like a couple of songs by One Direction. But I can't stand the band. Wait are they even a band? 

Their songs can be really sweet, they speak to me too. But I'll always pretend that it's just one guy singing them and try not to think of Harry Styles' face. Same goes to Justin Bieber. In his case, a REAL guy with better hair and a better attitude.

 

Can't explain why. Maybe I'm just a rebel like that? Something about people (and things) that went viral all of a sudden. Like the Harlem Shake or the planking trend (which imo just shows how much our mentality has deteriorated throughout generations). 

10. I wanted (and will always want to) be a vet.

I'm scared of all insects (and fleas that come with most mammals), snails, leeches, lizards, spiders, worms, caterpillars (which become butterflies so I don't like butterflies too), fish... I think I'm afraid of most animals except for small mammals. I mean, I'm okay with the idea of lions and tiger but they eat people so I guess they're not that favorable too.

I'm disgusted by poo and pee. Basically body liquids. But not blood. I'm fine with blood, be it a drop or a pool of blood, stained on my clothes or my hands. 

I think the meat section in the market it gross.

I chose medicine instead, because I wanted to, and it's a way smarter choice.

I'll never pet stray dogs and cats because I can't help but think of the millions of microorganism that will stick to my hands if I do.

I've passed by dogs that were lying by the road, injured and did nothing to help, numerous times.

But a part of me still wants to be a vet. As superficial as it sounds, I think it might be my purpose or my calling but I chose to defy it, because I don't think that I can do it.

Cuz home

things only i get :

dad clenching my upper arm, as if he's trying to suffocate it, when we cross the road

dad getting me cheesy wedges when he takes away KFC for supper

dad making faces at me when he's pumping petrol

dad tapping my shoulder and pretending like he didn't

dad poking my back when i walk in front of him

dad tempting me to get bubble milk tea when we fetch sis to ballet lessons

dad eating half of my ice cream in one bite 'accidentally' then laughs as i groan in frustration

dad forcing me to make him instant noodles because apparently i do it best

***

mom taking me out for kopi and roti bakar dates

mom teaching me what shes looking at under the microscope

mom giving me the most meaty and beautiful part of a crab

mom telling me about her uni life as i lie on her bed at night

mom always loving what i cook

mom forever asking if i have enough money (lol)

mom telling me that i'm mad for carrying the dslr but end up loving all the pictures i take

mom asking me to go on a diet with her and telling me that i don't need to

To err is human

Not writing about errors tonight, but I sat through a torturous 1 hour of lecture on patients' safety this morning and this phrase was the only thing that is worth recalling so I'm just gonna give it some credit right here.

My thoughts, are almost made out of paradoxes. I'm pretty much convinced. I spend a lot of energy, since young, teaching myself to refrain from jealousy or envy, but I also always tell myself to never settle, or be totally satisfied. All my life, I've believed that jealousy means all harm and no good. It makes a perfectly contented person unhappy. It changes people, it makes you forget your initial motives of doing something. It's because of jealousy that people want more of what they already have (which is probably more than they need), not just for the benefits of themselves, but also for the eyes of the others. It's as pointless as starving yourself to get Orlando Bloom's second glance when Miranda Kerr wasn't even good enough for him. 

Somebody having something doesn't mean that you need to be on par too, in order to be as competent. If someone's recognition requires you to be something you're not, then maybe that recognition isn't worth as much as you think it does. It's just that, I really stand by the saying 'those who matter don't care, those who care don't matter'. Let's just say, the amount of crap I give about you is directly proportional to the weigh of your opinions about me. 

That's mainly for materials and extravagance, but when it comes to myself, I can never seem to be satisfied. I've always wished I could draw and paint better, because I'm amazed by people who are able to portray all their feelings into a tiny piece of paper without having to use a single word. I've always wanted to be pitch perfect, cuz then I wouldn't have so much trouble with music (or maybe just piano) since young, and maybe I wouldn't feel so negatively about it like I do now. I've always hoped that I can eat whatever I want without getting fat (LOL). If you ask me what intrigues me the most, I would say a good drawing, a well-written story, and fantastic food. Oh and smart people. Smart people are sexier than all the Victoria Secret angels or Calvin Klein underwear models on earth. 

I mean, you can't always be happy about yourself, because satisfaction means contentment, contentment means the lack of drive to move forward, lack of drive means no improvement, no improvement means plateau, plateau means degradation which ultimately leads to death. Not exaggerating, nope. But again, unsatisfaction means wanting more, wanting more means forever searching and working, forever working means no rest, no rest means fatigue, fatigue means depression, which also, eventually leads to one jumping off the balcony.

You probably have already decided that I've been talking crap all the while, but think about this, it makes sense.