Oh, hello.

People, people on the streets - and you know nothing about them. You don't know what kind of lives they lead, what kinds of hardship they face. People are fascinating. I wish I knew them more.

It's three in the morning and I'm about to fall asleep and I'm watching a hundred ways to die on Skyrim while trying my best not to laugh. I nearly fell off my chair laughing at the part with the giant cabbages and marriage. Charming. Absolutely charming. I've watched it before last year, but couldn't resist watching it again. Skyrim humor is never lost on me.

Lunar New Year has begun. 

More posts to come soon.

Foundation Year Dance Party

 First off - this post may contain too-much-information. If you prefer to continue viewing me as the nice, sweet, shy (?), bookish girl you know, I advise you to stop reading this now.

 If you're mentally scarred for life after this post, don't effing blame me.

"Come to the dance party?" 

"Please come. Pleaaaaaaaaase."

"Why won't you come, damn it?' 

"Just go to the dance party! It'll be fun!"

I had no idea how many times phrases like these were repeated to me. First, it was once a week - then as the date approached, it became once a day, then twice a day. It was infuriating as it was distressing, and I was close to being unhinged. 

It wasn't that I was being unsporting. In fact, when news that the dance party was being hosted, I had been the one who whooped and screamed for joy.

But then I lost my enthusiasm. It just happened, and there wasn't much left to say. I wasn't keen, and that was it - or so I thought. 

"Fine," I sighed. "I'll go."

During the next few days, girls patted my hair and touched my face - all eager to aid me in what I was the worst at, which was dressing up.

Since I had so abruptly decided to go, preparation was a painful process. The fact that I had shifted not too long ago did nothing to soothe the discomfort either - it just made it worse. I tagged along with several classmates around Dunedin for dresses, wincing when the most expensive dresses came up to $500. I refused to splurge on a three hour event, and doling out the dough on a dress just didn't seem worth it to me. Finally, though, after more searching, I managed to find a relatively classy dress under $100. It was about the cheapest I could get, and I swore never to go shopping for another dress for the year again. And then there were the shoes - these weren't that difficult, for I had scouted out a pair of three-four inched beauties a month ago during the winter break. I had to get more stockings for myself, though, as I actually managed to rip a pair while I was trying them on. Time to lose some weight...maybe.

When the big day finally came, I was nervous, worried and excited all at the same time. Lily happily did my face while I suffered and blinked throughout the torturous process of applying eyeliner, foundation and mascara - then after that, I went over to Marilyn's. 

If there was one thing I have learned, it would be to never underestimate Brazilian females when it came to dressing up.

Never. Underestimate. Them.

Ever.

The entire night passed by in a blur. Less people turned out than we hoped, but the DJ was a Singaporean from my class who was blasting out some pretty decent beats. We hit the dance floor straightaway, and that was how the wildness began. I used my classmate's passport to get a beer without even checking the label, but it was beer and oh it tasted really good. From then things became a little blurry - I remembered chucking my prized heels away because they were too much of a nuisance during the dancing. Fist-pumping the air while waltzing around in four-inched heels just wasn't entirely feasible, so...

And that was when the guys came. 

I danced with a guy whom my classmates and I have dubbed as "the German guy". He was incredibly smart (either that or he was probably just being an assertive dick), and I didn't expect to be able to come into such close proximity with him. We clung to each other with glow sticks and noisy music, swaying around with our arms around each other's neck/back. My classmates were smirking, and I probably was as well. At the end of the dance, this guy gave me his glow stick and went off for a drink.

Then there was the guy from Saudi Arabia. He was wild - just so wild. Just thinking about it now makes me realize how un-Anne I was on that night, though CHS-ians who have seen me drunk would probably beg to differ. There was a lot of dirty-dancing - and if I were to do some comparing, it would probably be like a raw, untrained version of a hyped up American music video - and by that, everything would be included - including groping, grinding and inappropriate fondling. 

I was really stupid about the whole thing, really. He told me he just lived upstairs, and asked whether I would like to come up for a drink. Well, the dance floor was crowded, stifling, stuffy and I was sweating - so I said, "Sure. A drink sounds good."

I had no idea what that drink was. He poured and mixed something I couldn't recognize into the cup and said, "This shit's so good, you have to try it." 

And so I did.

Now that I look back, agreeing to that was incredibly stupid. I was just lucky that nothing worse happened after that, and that I still miraculously managed to keep a level-headed opinion of things. The alcohol in the drink was strong - I knew it was, for after that when he insisted on me drinking more I refused and said, "If you give me anymore, I'll throw up." I had been serious that time, and I knew it. He merely shrugged, and we continued dancing. 

My classmates were giving me the thumbs up. After that when I asked them about my dancing, they would all nod, grin and say it was "more than just hip-grinding, guuuurl, you were totally dishing everythin' out on that dance floor. We never seen that side of you before, Li Anne. 'S cool."

"What's your name?" he asked, breathing into my ear and smelling incredibly like tobacco and alcohol.

I told him, and asked for his name in return. He spelled them out for me, tracing alphabets onto my back. 

(I still remember his name up until today, which is amazing considering the fact that I was tipsy during that time.)

"Wallah, you are beautiful."

"Wallah?" I asked, feeling confused.

"I swear to God, you are beautiful."

...Oh.

"What do you want to be in the future? I'm thinking of becoming...a  politician," he confessed.

I laughed. "I'm...going to become...the world's writer and write a bestseller."

"Really? Remember then," he whispered, "That if you ever write something wonderful next time, that once upon a time - a long, long time ago - you once danced with me. Me."  

He was everywhere, goddammit. Just everywhere, and I didn't know how to stop it. The sane part of me was saying, "Okay, Anne, enough. Stop," while the wild part of myself was screaming, "FUCK YEAH. ROCK ON, BITCH."

But the atmosphere was just so infectious that I found myself carrying on. When I paused for a break and clutched my aching head in my hands, Tim had sympathetically given me a head massage and asked repeatedly whether I was okay or not.

I must have seemed so pathetic. I mean, I think I even asked him which shoes were for my feet. 

When I finally returned home, I had no idea what was going on. I remember collapsing onto the bed without a shower, tossing and turning with frustration and happiness. It was something like my first real clubbing night, and it was abso-fucking-lutely exhilarating.

And I'm sorry for such a douche-y post. 

I hope some of you actually get a laugh out of this! (:

Eins, zwei, drei.

Hi, people. In case you live under a rock (more like, not checking Facebook or even talking to me regularly enough slash Leong Hooi cough), I'm in New Zealand already. Dunedin, to be exact.

A student town, where students study hard and party harder.

So, yeah.

This is the building that I study in. 

 

The Language Centre and Foundation Year never had that huge of a building last year, and they only moved in here a few weeks ago. But seriously, they've got the best facilities there. There's like a whole bunch of Mac computers in the ILC, and the design within the building is top-notch, modern and impressive. Next to it is a cafe (horribly expensive - eight dollars for a sandwich? I'll starve, thanks) and Unipol, the gymnasium.

 

 And this is the main heart of the campus - the famous clock tower of Otago. Since the new building that I study in is quite far away from here, I don't think I'll be getting to see this place on a regular basis, but next year I most definitely will when my lessons move to the main campus. The cherry blossoms will bloom by the riverbank during spring though, so I'll definitely take a stroll here a few times at least.

 And oh, that's my room. 

I am a lucky, lucky girl.

The room behind belongs to my housemate, a girl from the Pacific Islands, and the room with two beds belong to me. I can sleep on one bed, and dump some other stuff on the other - not to mention that the entire area of the room is large enough for two whole suitcases, as well as my clothes. Having a huge room means it gets cold easily too, though, but I'm going to ignore that for now. Since my room is much bigger than my housemate's room, I told her to come over whenever she wants to chat. I'm not claustrophobic, but being in such a small, cramped room like hers would irk me.

Unpacking was quite a tedious process. I realized that since I was at a stranger's home, it wouldn't do me any good to shame myself by tossing stuff everywhere, even if it technically was my room for the time being. Compared to my housemate's room, mine was messier even when I tried as much as I could to make things look neater.

 Tiny tech corner. I'm sure I could've put in more stuff if all my chargers, speakers and wires weren't there blocking the way. There's a study area (no books there yet), and one of those small pin-up boards where I could put anything important up. So far, uh, the only thing pinned up (not in photo) would be my list of subjects and the laundry schedule.

And see, see? There's a piano in the house that I can play from time to time. Neat! And I thought I wouldn't have the chance to touch a piano for a few months!

Anyway.

Life has been quite...eventful. 

I got lost, for one. I thought I knew Dunedin well enough, but no, I didn't. I ended up walking in the total opposite direction and ended up in some suburb area. It was only when I saw the signs leading out to the highway that I realized something was horribly, horribly wrong. 

The streets are parallel, see. If you take a wrong turn, you'll most likely end up...at somewhere else other than your destination.

Which doesn't leave me any room for carelessness, really. But you know, with a map and some serious backtracking while looking like some clueless Asian tourist, I managed to find my way back. Was I ever tempted to hitch a ride, but in Malaysia that would be like, asking for death, so...

I sat on my glasses by accident too, which was really careless of me. The right lens popped out, leaving me thinking stuff like, "Why the heck is this happening to me on the first day of orientation and oh my goodness I haven't even eaten breakfast yet!" So, yeah. More map-scouting, more walking (running) along the streets during lunch break. I got them fixed for free. I must have looked really pitiful.

The oddest thing is that somehow I've been making more Pacific Islanders and local Kiwi friends more than Asians. I recall my sister and brother having a whole bunch of Asian friends, and I'm like, talking to the cocoa-colored skin ones and the fair-haired ones. In fact, some of the Asian people just didn't respond well even after I spoke to them. I don't mind, of course. Friendships take time, but hey, being a little responsive won't kill you, would it? If there's one thing I dislike, yeah, this is it. It's not like I was being out-of-character either. Sure, my English has a slang even if I've only been here for a week or so, but I feel quite natural in it and - nothing's wrong, basically! It's just who I am. Hopefully, I'll be getting some Asian friends soon too.

I've also been feeding the cat that lives in the house, but that was only because it wouldn't stop following me everywhere I went. It purrs whenever I scratch its ears though, that sneaky little thing, and likes settling on my bed, leaving fur behind. 

 No, we don't have any classes yet. It's still orientation week, and I've been familiarizing myself with bus routes, campus grounds, people around me, etc, and have completed the formal process of registration. Now all I await is my student ID and student email. The rest are done. Debit card (online shopping? More like, booking flights back home) - check, stationery - check, tomorrow's clothes - check, EFTPOS card, Farmers card, GoCard, all those little cards - check.

Yeah, one of the perks is that you get to wear what you want, have your hair however you want - unlike CHS. 

I feel the freedom. I love the freedom. I absolutely just adore it, and I don't miss CHS at all. 

Totally. And I'm not even lying to myself in any way.

I'm not even freaking homesick. 

I don't even feel the need to cry by myself in the middle of the night, have some dark side popping up, or whatever emotional thingy that can lead to my failure in life. I mean, there are a few days in a month where I'm less pleasant to be dealt with, but other than that...

Yeah, really. That's around it.

I'll update again as soon as I can. My parents love receiving long emails from me. Interesting, isn't it?

CNY

 As stated above.

The journey back to Kedah was one heck of a stress-inducer. It took us nine hours before we finally reached. The jam was insanity. My parents were reaching their limit, and I could only bury my head in a pillow at the backseat. No driver's license, which means no help from me. Nope, none at all - and my brother wasn't up to driving my mother's huge car.

But yeah, the point is that we did make it in the end.

Since there was a market not too far away from where we lived, we checked that out in the morning before lunch.

These stuff are much cheaper in the Kedah market compared to PJ.

Pictures first, longer narration after that.

 Two bottles of nail polish - and only RM6. The remover is RM1. Yes, I'm serious.

 A new watch since I've used my old one for many, many years.

This girl here is Japanese, and she just married into the family!

Possibly one of the most memorable CNYs I've ever had.

Was it because I knew that I would be leaving soon?

Perhaps.

Things were memorable - in both the good and bad.

For the most part, I felt really bad. I honestly didn't want anything extra from my relatives (I mean, a little extra is fine, but when it goes overboard...you'd wish to jump into a hole, too), and things just got awkward over the money-pushing.

Scene One

An aunt gave me a sheet of paper. 

"Here, this is from your uncle. He's too paiseh to give it to you, though."

I accepted the paper, wondering whether it was a note or something - and noticed it was a bank draft.

With my name on it.

With several zeroes to spare.

"But this," I said weakly, "This is in New Zealand dollars!"

Her smile was serene. "Yes, it is."

It had taken her an extra fifteen minutes to convince me to finally take the paper - and that was only because she told me that it would be difficult to return the money back to my uncle's account.

I didn't even want to think of what I could buy with it. All I knew was that I wanted to stow it away in my NZ bank account as soon as possible, and not touching it for a long, long time.

Scene Two

"Here, Li Anne, take this and go shopping."

I stared at another aunt dumbly, accepting the cash she had placed into my hands. "Shopping?"

"Shopping, yes," she said, looking confused. "Buy something you'd like for yourself before going over. Maybe some clothes?"

I hope she won't get upset if she ever finds out that I'll be shopping in LowYat, and not in Pyramid, with her money.

Conversations were mostly revolving around the standard topics, mainly a basic catch-up of what everyone was doing throughout the year. Among the frequent questions that were asked would be about my future, of course. I smiled and answered as politely as I could, noticing that they weren't exactly enthusiastic about my choice.

Scene Three

"So, what will you be doing?"


"Foundation in Arts," I said, realizing that all of them were now looking at me. 


And the aunts and uncles raised their eyebrows. The uncle said, "Foundation in Arts?" He slurred it, like some sort of muck under a shiny, expensive Armani shoe. "Well, my daughter here," he patted his daughter's arm, "Would like to do Medicine in the future - New Zealand too."


I pitied the daughter immensely. She looked bored and spiteful. 


She needed a dream, a certain direction. I just wish I could have told her that. Dreams made a huge difference.


Said uncle was not done. "So where will you be staying then?"


"Home-staying with a Kiwi family," I answered.


"Oh-ho. So there are people who cook meals for you? You're pretty pampered, aren't you?"

I didn't stand up, yell, or do anything of that sort. No, of course not. I merely smiled at him, and asked him sharply, "What?"


To which he had laughed and said, "Never mind."

I had already known.

For a long time, I knew. That no one took the idea of me becoming a writer seriously. I knew, I knew, I always did. And yet, it didn't matter - in the face of humiliation, it didn't matter whether you expected it or not - the mere act of having people so openly opposing you was irritating, not to mention hurtful.


In reality, of course, what I had wanted to say was, "I'm just a little different. At least I have a dream to fulfill, unlike you bunch of wankers over here."

My parents had told me that it was a waste of a brain to pursue Arts.

Which I, too, knew.

It wasn't as if I was that brilliant or anything. I was never able to match up with the smartest students in school, nor was I the one who bagged the most prizes for competitions. Heck, I was on the verge of failing Add Math. The only thing I felt proud about was being able to juggle the duties of a president and studies together (okay, with the exception of Add Math, I was doing fine with the rest) - while taking up piano, consistently writing in my spare time, and playing adviser to anyone who needed it.

And really, that was about the most that I did. No outstanding achievements, no earth-shattering news.

But if there was one thing I knew, it was that I had the determination and the guts. The determination to commit some screwed-up act, and the guts to acknowledge my own faults when it really, well, screws up.

I don't know.

I don't.

But anyway.


As mentioned, a cousin of mine had also recently married a Japanese girl. She came to Malaysia, and had joined us for one of the CNY visits.

It's not like anyone minded, but they were all ignoring her.The room was filled with excited chatters of both the young and the old, and the atmosphere was...well, just cheery. Or, it was supposed to be. I was one of the few who had gotten a little too irritated for any sort of conversation, so I had slipped into a corner, where I could observe the room quietly without appearing too anti-social (my mum always complained about that, especially when I was younger. At that time, I didn't see the point of building connections, or using them yet). Everyone seemed to be talking to someone, so that was fine...oh, wait.

The Japanese girl wasn't talking to anyone.

Or, more exactly, no one was talking to her.

She was sitting there alone with her hands folded, staring emptily into space, looking bored and awkward as can be. I noted that she was pretty, and quite young. Why wasn't anyone attempting to initiate a conversation with her? Why were they ignoring her? She was now part of the family, after all. What my relatives were doing was plain rude, and I didn't like it at all.

I knew how it felt like to be truly alone in a sea of conversation. I understood the loneliness, the disconcerting feeling. And that was when I made up my mind. Language barrier, age difference or not - it didn't matter. Someone had to make the first move, and I would do it.

And so I introduced myself to her with a little Japanese, feeling thankful that I had a year's worth of Japanese lessons and many hours of anime-watching experiences. And the most surprising thing was that she answered me in English, telling me that my Japanese was good. I raised an eyebrow - so she could speak English. All the more so that the rest of the people should have talked to her!

The rest of the conversation was mainly introductions - where we were from, our families, our circumstances - things like that. It wasn't anything special, but I could see that she genuinely appreciated the fact that I noticed - and spoke to her.

I also found out during this CNY that in reality, I have several Thai descendants. Which would mean that I'm part-Thai. Was I surprised? Very. Sure, it wasn't as if it would affect me in the future, but to me - well, if it was part of the family heritage, then it would have been prudent to tell me earlier on instead of dumping it on me randomly in the car. But really, Thai? Well, to be honest, it shouldn't have been that surprising. After all, Kedah is close to Thailand. I wouldn't have minded being part Portuguese, though. Imagine have Portuguese looks. I don't particularly look Thai. I look like - well, a freaking Chinese. Minus the extreme slit-eyes (which only occurs when I laugh hilariously as if the world's about to end and I have to close to my eyes due to the extreme hilarity of the situation) and minus the Chinese slang due to where I was brought up, of course.

Just...ugh. 

Other than that, CNY was pretty much an enjoyable affair. There were fireworks, laughter, gambling (shame that I never mastered the art of chor dai di), and I even clinked wineglasses with my mum on the eve of CNY. There were steamboats, loads of amazing hawker food, oranges, fizzy drinks, junk food, and all sort of CNY paraphernalia that one would expect.

It just might be my last CNY here in Malaysia, and that's why I will never, ever forget it.

Sixteen more days.

Happy Chinese New Year.

I'll be off to Kedah from tomorrow onwards (21/1/12) till next Wednesday (25/1/12).

This time's CNY will be a whole lot more different. Many relatives from all over the world (think UK, Singapore, Hong Kong, Japan, Australia, etc) - which would mean more people and extra festivities. Since there's only a few more weeks until I leave for New Zealand, I just know that all my curious relatives will be asking the few popular questions - e.g. when are you leaving? What will you be studying? What are your future plans? Why aren't you doing A-Levels in Malaysia? Well, all I have to do is smile politely, answer reasonably, and be incredibly patient. Hey, it's CNY after all. 

I'm happy that my brother's home for CNY. He flew in last night from Auckland - it was a spontaneous decision of his, apparently. We spoke for a long time - just catching up, you know, and gossiping about the things that have been happening around. We talked and talked until four in the morning - and I enjoyed it.

Yeah, I guess I did miss him. 

Have I packed? Yeah. It'll be a five-hour drive back home tomorrow, and I have a feeling that since it's the weekend things will be chaotic on the road - especially at Tapah, Ipoh, Juru - those areas.

There's a lot I want to blog about, of course - especially about the outrageous news I heard about Megaupload being shut down, and not being able to download in New Zealand. These have totally ruined my mood for CNY. 

I haven't had the time to finish my older existing fan-fiction. 

Or start out on the new one that I was planning so much for.

I haven't gotten the portable hard disk, nor the iPod that I've been aiming for the past few weeks. I haven't been to LowYat yet, and there's still quite a few things to sort out. In fact, I have no idea which to put on my priority list anymore.

I need more time. 

But first, time to head back home.

Have a happy CNY, mates.  

Especially to those, who aren't in Malaysia anymore.