Zoe Yve

OPI Shatter

2011-12-31T04:43:00.003-05:00

I'm happy that I quit working for that fast food restaurant chain because now I can paint my nails! YEAHHHH BEBAYYY!~!~!~!~ So, so, so, I bought two OPI Shatter nail polishes. The white and gold ones called White Shatter and Gold Shatter respectively. No fancy names for the shatter edition, I guess. It's funny, I was just thinking about the OPI bi-annual Buy One Free One base and top coats edition and shortly after, I saw it while Christmas shopping in a mall and I bought them for $9.95 (plus tax). Even though I already have them--I bought them in Malaysia for... RM30 I think?--but as my belongings have yet been shipped over, despite it being over a year since I've left, I could no longer wait and purchased this special combo so I could start painting my nails regularly.

It's fairly simple to use. Put on any base color and apply the OPI Shatter on top of it and it'll give a cracked look. After applying a thick base coat to protect my nails, I put on Sally Hansen's Insta-Dri in Night Flight (24). It's actually a really, really dark blue but it shows up black. The brush is also different from most other nail polish bottles, it's denser and wider, giving a firmer application which applies A LOT of varnish.

It's true to it's words as it was dry when I touched it two minutes after applying it. It was very pigmented which I liked.

This being my first time trying out the Shatter edition, I was told by my school-mate to put on a really thick layer. Which I did for all of my finger nails but one to test how it would end up. So this is the end result of using Gold Shatter atop of a dark base. I'm sorry for the messy edges, I don't tediously remove them with nail polish remover since I usually scrape them off the next day which gives a cleaner appearance, in my opinion.

This is how it looks like two days after. As you can see, there weren't a lot of cracks and I was slightly disappointed until I received a handful of compliments on my nails. It did not look like the image of the shattered nail polish on the bottle, it was unevenly cracked. But now I find that it would make every application unique.

(Picture quality difference due to above photo taken by phone.)

It was really cool watching the polish divide itself and then you start hoping it would split at certain areas but it doesn't. The middle finger was the one where I applied a thin layer of Gold Shatter, the cracks are less prominent and the color isn't as vibrant as the others. So you definitely want to make sure you apply more than enough nail polish for OPI Shatter polishes. But I made the mistake of putting a dollop of the lacquer and I had to quickly brush them off and apply them on my other fingers.

Perhaps if someone could give me some tips on how to make the shatter effect prettier?

Oh, I forgot to include the prices. They were selling for CAD9.99 but as it was Boxing Day it was on sale for CAD5.99!! #omgIloveBoxingDay

Winter Wonderland

2011-12-31T03:50:00.000-05:00

Today was really fun. Also, I bought this winter robe from Costa Blanca on sale for CAD30. I think it's really pretty. I've never bought anything this earthy before.It finally started snowing... so heavily like it was heaven! So I met a friend and we took a walk through the woods where I snapped quite a few pictures.

I love snow. I think it makes everything so beautiful.

I just realized that I should have brightened all the pictures before uploading them. But I don't fancy editing scenic photos.

Doesn't the snow make them look like blooming flowers? They look like little fluffs of cotton.

Meet my friend Garrett, it's a handsome name for a... goofy boy.

They look amazing in real life, it's a pity I couldn't capture the beauty of the snow-covered trees.

The frosty leaves reminded me of grey hair. Cold, alone, barren... but in a community elderly home.

Frozen stream.

My favorite shot.

I was totally walking in a winter wonderland in these woods.

I took this picture while lying down.

And my make-up was jeopardized when Garrett, a lovely gentleman, very kindly palmed my face with his gloves that was covered in snow. The snow melted upon contact and my mascara started to run. Why, thank you, thank you very much.

Omg, the crystallization of the snow is so beautiful on the branches! It was so intricate and delicate... but I apologize, my 12MP compact camera didn't do a satisfactory job.

I guess that's about it. I hope you enjoyed the pictures as much as I enjoyed taking them.

Pre-2012 Greetings

2011-12-28T23:15:00.001-05:00

Christmas Greetings

2011-12-21T19:52:00.000-05:00

Hello all, I come to you in peace... or rather, in exhaustion. I'm so sleepy and tired. But I want to wish you a merry, merry Christmas. There's no snow outside. Can you believe it? Could it be possibly the first snowless December in Toronto in Canadian history? I think I jinxed the weather by coming back.

Also, I'm going on a school field trip to New York next May. It's $660 for a 5-day, 3-night tour. But I wonder if it's going to stink because of it being related to school. I wish I had traveling buddies. I need backpacking buds. I wanna explore this continent while I'm in it! I'm very fortunate to have travelled around a little in Malaysia thanks to my friends. They brought me to Malacca, Penang and Ipoh for food! None of that relative visitation crap.

Okay then, enjoy this wrapped up photo of me looking zoned out. I'm so happy my drama presentation about Ancient Greek theatre, physics test and biology quiz is over. All I have left to worry about is my two chemistry tests tomorrow and Friday.

I really like physics because it's so interesting, science has always fascinated me and been my strongest subject in primary school. It's unfortunate that I'm doing so badly right now. I was wrong, logic alone is not enough to understand physics. The concepts are so abstract and mathematical it really blows your mind away. Of course, there are people who find physics easy, but I think what I struggle with is remembering which laws apply to which formula and what the elements in the formulas mean. If only I'd put in some real effort. My insincere effort is last minute cramming right before the test. I manicly read the text book and notes I've taken but I only retain a fraction of the information.

I'm such a lazy bum, I wish there was a pill for work deficiency. Can I pride myself with the fact that I don't cheat? I've seen my friends write solutions on the palms of their hands and store pieces of paper in their pencil cases. Hm, no, cheaters are winners. Having integrity makes no difference. But it should.

Thank God for Christmas.

Iron Defeatiency

2011-12-11T00:49:00.001-05:00

I've finally reached the last pill of my iron supplement. I had my blood extracted in March and my blood test results came within a month and I found out that my iron level was only 4% of what it should be. That was very shocking to me. Immediately, it made me wonder how long I've had iron deficiency and why I had it. I had always thought that I had a lot of iron because of the healthy cereals I ate usually contained 40% iron. Later, when purchasing this bottle of iron tablets, I learned that calcium "takes away the iron from your body" or so the pharmacist said. He claimed that it would be pointless to eat the iron tablet if I ingested calcium with it or closely before or after. I don't fancy eating cereals dry unless it's Reese Puffs and Reese Puffs isn't very nutritious either. It's a lose-lose situation!!

Alright, so I took my 100mg-iron pill every night for 4 days in the first week then 3 days in the next and it became so irregular and random I don't remember how often I took it. All I know is that this bottle was supposed to last me for only 100 days but I've had it for 8 months which would be... approximately 245 days. I think I wanted to challenge my deficiency, I didn't believe it would affect me. But the past month has been hell, I felt so lethargic, even after sleeping for half a day, I felt that I didn't have the energy to do anything. I was baffled, why am I so bloody tired even after 10 or 14 hours of sleep? Why is all that I'm thinking about everyday at school is sleep? Am I that much of a bum?

So after not taking it for one month straight, I swallowed one before sleeping and the next day I felt normal again which I haven't been feeling for so long! It wasn't like it gave me superpowers or extra strength but I functioned a lot better and I wasn't fatigued.

Of course another reason I didn't take my iron supplements was because I couldn't stop eating milk chocolate or brownies with milk for supper and yogurt for breakfast. I can't consume dairy product two hours before or after taking my iron pill. What a bummer! Why does it have to be calcium? Why can't it be... gluten? I don't care about gluten. I've been so concerned about my bone development and osteoporosis that I've neglected my red blood cell formation. I won't worry about that anymore, I get ample exercise by walking from school and work. Now it's all about my blood, baby. I'll take good care of you, red blood cells. I'll make sure you get enough heme in your hemoglobin (something that I learned in Biology last week :D)!

Well, my doctor said that iron deficiency is fairly common is young woman because of menstruation. Well, I will not take my health for granted and I'm going to buy another bottle soon and take my iron supplement every day. Chocolate will have to step aside for now, until my iron deficiency is eradicated (hopefully soon, PUH-LEAZE). I don't want to develop anemia either, which is a more severe form of iron deficiency. I don't think it's curable either...?

I bought chewable vitamin C tablets to accompany my consumption of iron because the pharmacist said vitamin C helps your body better absorb iron. Actually, it's because it was on sale at Shoppers Drug Mart and I thought it was cool to eat vitamins for no reason. Then I read in the newspaper that synthetic nutrients aren't that good for your or something... hmm, whatever. Go ascorbic acid and iron!!

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An Early Christmas Card

2011-12-03T23:14:00.001-05:00

I was working at the dollar store today and it was pretty hectic. For one whole hour between 4:30-5:45, three cashiers, including me, were checking out customers non-stop. Finally at the end of the peak hour, I was just breathing a sigh of relief when an old lady passed me this package. I forgot what she said but I believe it went along the lines of "It's for you, Merry Christmas." after she handed it to me. At first I thought she was returning a product and I was going to place it in the Return basket but I noticed it was a customized bag with personal items and then I looked at her with surprise and held it awkwardly in my hand. Then I shoved it on a shelf near to my till but then I knew I would forget it so I put it in the pocket of my apron (it's an employee uniform). I hope I thanked her, I don't remember but I should have said "Oh thank you." weirdly.

What I'm going to say will sound stupid to you and I know it's stupid and I feel stupid for having thought it. I thought that woman might have been trying to kill random people. I figured there was some poisonous powder in the envelope and when people opened the letter and inhaled it they would die. PARANOID MUCH? NO, NOT REALLY, PSYCHOPATHS EXISTS. Also, it was the randomest thing ever, there was a packet of tissues and candy. The first thing I thought was "Cheh, Lifesavers, generic candy."

I studied the package from the outside. I really wondered what that elderly woman was doing. I was particularly worried since she was Caucasian and I feared she might have been racist so that's why she picked me.

Having all that in mind, after work, while walking home, I opened the letter (because it's safer in the windy environment according to my theory) and this is what I saw:

I shortly glanced at the cover of the card and opened it. The first I said after reading the title was "What the hell?" It's a booklet called "I Know You Are Hurting" by Zig Ziglar. Ah, Zig Ziglar, a familiar name, a man quoted a few times, some motivational speaker I've read about before. He's published books before that I don't remember what it is about.

I was relieved and since it was dark, I put the card back into the envelope and the envelope back into the plastic bag and the package into my backpack and walked on home.

When I got home I reopened everything and read the card. How thoughtful, that old lady was a Christian reaching to me. Such creative evangelism! I was thinking to myself today how door-to-door evangelism was rather ineffective these days since people don't like letting strangers into their house. This well-thought-out package was such a sweet gesture.

I read the booklet and I found it so coincidental in relation with my post I blogged yesterday. I stated that I was bitter but I was praying to learn to forgive and let go. A phrase that really stood out to me was "To continue to dwell on "Why?" and "If only" leads to bitterness and misery" which was exactly what I've been brooding about for many months. It was a nice booklet but I felt that the title was a little melodramatic which was what turned me off.

Also, the idea of getting a sign from God popped in my mind for a moment as I remembered a story in Psalms when David asked God for a piece of cotton to have dew on it one morning and to be dry the next. I brushed it off since from experience I never really had any direct or straightforward answers from Him. I thought about the significance of the items in the package. It hit me that Lifesavers was specifically chosen for its name and that the tissue was probably for people who would cry after reading the booklet.

I wonder why the kind lady chose me! I feel special. Hehe.

Thank you very much, whoever you are, you didn't leave a name in the card. I was blessed by your actions and I finished eating the candy. I also know why it's called Lifesavers, because the roll of candy have a hollow middle, making it look like a float. Floats are lifesavers, except this is hard candy... ah, all this symbolism!!

I'm so happy that I've got a Christmas card!

Compartmentalization

2011-12-03T00:21:00.001-05:00

I find it funny whenever I have to argue my identity. I mean, how on earth do people get the nerve to question or doubt a person's answer to a question of their own identity? Oh right, with all the liars in the world, it's no surprise for people to be skeptical towards everything they hear. It's quite a surreal experience talking with people nowadays, I seem to be in a daze, oblivious to whatever they're saying. I no longer care to validate their words. I don't want to remember what was said. It's too much energy to keep track of everyone's credibility and trustworthiness. I've been lied to so many times, even if it was a joke, I feel foolish for having believed in it.

So what I found amusing was when my school-mates saw "Zoe Yve" written on my agenda book or on the top of my lined paper when I leave my notes on the table, they ask curiously "Isn't your last name Foo?" (some with an insulting look of "Oh, you want a fake name that's French."). I tell them that that's my middle name and they go like OH but a few do give a look of disbelief. There were many things I had to clarify, insist on and/or correct people about throughout my life, my nationality, race, accent and age. Having uprooted from country-to-country and state-to-state quite a few times, I never had people who knew me completely or well enough around me in my social circle. I never had a constant friend or familiar face (besides my immediate family members) to be with. No doubt it was exciting, always being on the move, always meeting new people, always getting attention for being a little different in this Southeast Asian country.

But this, being in Canada, and hiding bits of myself, I can't blame them. I don't know why I felt so uncomfortable that I had to compartmentalize everything. I have two Facebook accounts, I did not want my school-mates knowing I have a Twitter account and a blog and I did not want them to know my middle name. But now, as I'm finally beginning to warm up after a year, and feel safe and accepted am I now slowly letting go of all the anxiety that consumed me. I'm more willing to share more of myself and my social media persona.

Except, I still feel very alone and lonely. I haven't found my god-mother or my Grade 2 best friend that I lost contact with ten years ago. I'm so happy to be here but there's no emotional value or persons for me to bond with. I can't anyways, I can never love anyone I know. By know, I mean find out what they're really like, their weaknesses and ugly side in particular. Everyone has an ugly side, no one is perfect and for me, I can't love that person once I know their imperfection. No, I don't mean physically or any kind of disability but there's this one flaw everyone has that just almost entirely blots out their beauty and goodness. Selfishness, attention-craving, narcissism, bias, lying, pretentiousness, perversion, conceit, egotism. The slightest spot is so distracting and it totally prohibits me from compromising to accept that person.

I have been praying though. I've been praying to God that I would learn to forgive, to stop being bitter and judgmental and learn to love people. But it's really, really hard. How do them Christians do it? Gar!

I also highly doubt that I'll ever have a best friend. It's not possible. I'm judgmental and weird. Meaning that I can't love that friend and that friend will probably think I'm a freak. One's gotta give, I need to give. It's the risk that I hate. You invest time, emotions, sometimes money into the relationship and for something to go wrong makes you wish you never tried in the first place.

Gosh, I'm not even talking about dating. It's FRIENDSHIP. Friendship. Friendship...

Pro-crash-teen-ating

2011-11-28T02:48:00.001-05:00

Holla, holla, holla. It feels awkward writing in this new Blogger dashboard. It's 2:50AM and I'm listening to classical music on Youtube while attempting to--I mean while doing my homework. This is how my nails look like right now. I did them yesterday. I bought little jars of glitter from Dollarama for a poster assignment and I thought I'd make use of them since I know I won't be in a long time. You get a lot more sparkle than pigment from conventional glittery nail polish, which was what I wanted. But me being the noob I am, made a mess of my fingernails.

But I am happy with them, I have not decorated my nails in such a long time. I've only been painting crappy French manicures for myself so I could conveniently remove them by trimming my nails for work. What I did was put on a milky pink polish as a sticky base, then I tapped the blue glitter onto my nails and patted it all over to the very edges of my nail. Then I applied a clear, glossy top coat. Now it's all bling bling bling! \(*__*)/

Here's another picture of the result of my procrastination last week. I hated the cover of my agenda notebook so I redesigned it. It was one in the morning when I was supposed to be rushing to complete my homework but funny, little ideas always seem to make their way into my head.

Do you like it? I spent a whole terrible hour on it. None of my classmates were impressed with it. -_______- Yes, the next two days I was showing it with glee to all of my school-mates and they just glanced at it and said, "Oh, nice!" in the most considerate way possible. Thanks for trying not to hurt my feelings.

Okay, it's 3AM. I need to finish the respiratory chart for biology, write a reflection for drama, answer a page full of questions for chemistry and understand two weeks of taught physics concepts. I'll probably only get half of them done by morning.

Anti-abortion Protesters

2011-10-06T00:26:00.000-04:00

Last Sunday, as I was on the bus to "officialize" my employment of my second part-time job, I saw somewhere on the streets of Yonge that there were around 30-40 people holding up signboards protesting against abortion.In the summer, I saw a HUGE signboard that read "Lord forgive us." and it brought a mellow feeling as ironic as it is. Even though I knew what the the phrase meant, which not only reminded me of the crucifixion of Jesus when He was on the cross, abused to near death and He still asked God to forgive the people, it made me happy to know that there are churches who care about this nation. That there were still churches praying for the spirituality of Canadians.

I did not know that it was actually about abortion. Which I have mixed feelings about.

Signs that read "Lord forgive us" and "Abortion kills children", "Abortion hurts women".

Yes, ending a life is wrong. The right to life is a human right and I do agree that the moment an egg is conceived it is human. However, I'm unsure about the soul part. When is our soul given to us? When we are newborns or foetuses? I don't know. I also support post-marital sex (since most abortions, I assume, are from accidental pre-marital pregnancy). But I'll ignore the youth sexual activity which is a major issue and focus just on unwanted pregnancies.

Okay. *breathes deeply* These are just my own opinions, I do not know much about abortion and I'm not gonna do further research to bother with statistics or what not. This is merely my thoughts on the subject.

I would support abortion because if the parents do not want children, they might end up resenting their child when responsibilities become a burden. Obviously, it's expensive raising children, there's food, clothes, diapers, daycare, babysitters, etc. to consider. If it was a low-middle-income-earning couple, abortion would be the right thing to do because every child should have all their needs taken care of and more than that, money for a higher education. It can't be assumed that parents' incomes will increase in time since the economy is rather unpredictable so we should let the child be born and believe in the best for them. Perhaps, the punishment should not be on the baby since after all, it was the parents doing they should be held accountable. Good people would try their best to take care of their child but problems will arise and they might separate or a partner might abandon the family altogether. Single-parent children is a sad case, it definitely puts stress on the parent and will likely affect his or her parenting skills. The dynamics change and now the child will grow up not knowing what a family is supposed to be like and why he or she is different from other children of the same age. When questions start being asked, is the parent supposed to lie about the pregnancy being a mistake? How would it be perceived? Maybe feelings of guilt, anger or relief.

I would think that most abortion-avoided pregnancies would result poorly in the lives of the offsprings. You know, the people who seriously considered abortion but decided against because of their idealistic mentality.

On the other hand, the baby deserves a chance to prove itself. Many success stories of people in ghettos or dysfunctional families should convince us that our initial circumstances does not write our future in stone. Well-brought-up children can also end up dying of a drug overdose or destroying their own lives for whatever reasons. It is unfair to terminate a life unknowingly or regrettingly produced by others.

Of course, it does depend on the situation to decide on whether abortion would be the best option. Even as a Christian, I would overall side on allowing abortion. I know people who are in no position to parent yet have a child, I also know people who aborted but regretted the decision with a retrospective ponder of what it would have been like if they kept it. I see abortion as another way of undoing a mistake, like a tattoo removal, except this time it's not just your own skin but another's life.

Would it be right to continue that mistake? That is my question.

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Lurking Racism

2011-09-27T22:40:00.001-04:00

I'm very shocked that the term "racist" is still being seriously thrown at people, I'm still shocked that racist people exist. My friend was called a racist by a mutual friend of ours who is the same race as he is. It's such a weird story, I'm very surprised by my friend's action for being so angry at my other friend. So, in this story, the victim labelled the racist will be A and the accuser will be B.

A and B are good friends and we're all in the same high school. Coincidentally, we're all in the same boat of being chronologically older than our grade-age. A and B are both ESL (English as a Second Language) students and I bonded with the each of them in separate circumstances. I had a good friend in school whom B often saw me with and thus recognized me when we both were in a literacy aid class for the Ontario Secondary School Literacy Test. She was cute, bubbly and had big, pretty eyes and had sweet smile. I felt very comfortable being around her and talking to her, I never felt any discrimination whatsoever. A, on the other hand, was my ex-math classmate and we were on good terms with each other since he was helpful (in teaching math) and friendly while I was... I don't know, I don't think I was very useful to him. But A and I hung out about a dozen times in the summer holidays after we met at a park where he was cycling with B and her family and I was cycling with my own group of school-mates. We exchanged numbers and started cycling together, initially, with other people but then we were such avid cyclists we were the only ones who would cycle down to Toronto or anywhere more than 5km from our school area.

We went to Wonderland together, Costco, Cosmos Music Store, a buffet, Upper Canada Mall, the CN Tower and Niagara Falls. Trust me, it was platonic. We were traveling buddies. He was someone I greatly appreciated because other friends who wanted to hang out with me just wanted to watch movies all the time which is such a bore. They weren't interested in visiting farms or museums. I guess we had interest differences.

A worked at Dollarama and I worked at Mcdonald's (and we still do). During the summer, however, I only received 4 hours of work (equivalent to one average part-time shift) every WEEK and I was having problems at home which was making me consider renting another place but I couldn't because of my salary. I was P.O-ed and I was telling A and my other acquaintances all about it. One day, a week before school reopened, my friend told me Dollarama was hiring and I got all excited. But I was very uncertain as well because I figured that McDonald's might start giving me more hours after all the summer employees had quit. But I took the chance and updated my resume and walked to the store with A (which was around 6km by the way) and talked to his manager. I was very blessed to have explained my situation, since the manager said they weren't exactly hiring as they don't have enough hours for another part-timer (usually 15-30 hours) but I told her 5-10 hours a week would suffice since it's only to fill in the time from my other part-time job. The manager said she would think about it and I thanked her and got a hair cut. Okay, that last bit wasn't relevant but anyways, all I told the manager was that A told me that the store was hiring and that he was my school-mate since she asked if she could contact me/pass me things through him. Nothing else.

A month later on a Friday afternoon, A texted me "U r gonna be hired at Dollarama". I was overjoyed and jumpy. Like WEE WEE WEE! The following Monday he gave me an application form which I was filling out in Biology class. B sits beside me in that class and she asked who gave that form to me which I innocently answered A. I was happy and told her, "I got a part-time job at Dollarama!" and then she asked how I got the job and I replied with a weird look, "I went to the store and gave my resume?" Then she seemed a little exasperated by saying, "I've been looking for a job for months! I wanted to work and ah--oh nevermind." while slapping her forehead. I thought A was joking or teasing in comparison to my getting another part-time job when she didn't even have one. The next thing I know is A telling me B messaged him on Facebook calling him a racist and an unloyal and bad friend and said "bye forever" to their friendship.

WHAT THE...?! Jelly beans. What the jelly beans?!

B was complaining that A gave the job to some "Chinese person" rather than his own friend. Wow, wow, wowww... I was not expecting that. Really? All I was to you was a "Chinese person" in school? I thought I had a friendship with B but clearly, she either has some prejudice against Asians or any other race besides her own or she expects first priority treatment from friends of the same race. Unbelievable. A asked me to explain to her that he didn't practically hand me the job in a blink of an eye as if he had the power to do so and I said that I would help him by talking to her. Today, in biology, I glanced at B a couple of times and she asked, "What?" I asked, "Are you OK? Are you mad?" She said no and asked why. "Are you mad at someone?"
"Who?" B inquired.
I gave a suspicious look before answering, "Are you mad at(name of A)?"
"What? Noooo.. who told you that?"
"Really? You're not angry at him? Because he--" I was just about to clarify the whole employment story.
"No... who said that?"
"Someone...?" I was a getting worried about my words by now.

Yay, thank God the teacher started talking because I really didn't know how to end that conversation. We watched Rio and it was SO GOOD! I have another reason to not watch movies in the theatre because I'll probably get to watch movies in class 4 times a semester (last year it was a total of 7).

Right, so back to the story. I'm very disappointed in B. I would never have expected her to be racist AND calling another person racist. Who knows she could be plotting a genocidal massacre in school or might in the future? Her sense of privilege from same-race friends over other ethnic friends is disgusting. I no longer find her innocently bubbly but rather her childlike personality stems from an immature mind. I SMS-ed A saying,

"Please don't feel bad. I'm sorry for causing you this problem. But I think she has a bad habit of blaming others for her problems, in this case, of being jobless. If she really wanted a job, she would have dropped her resume to every place. Not [by] expecting an easy referral from a friend."

Am I not right? Do you think life is that easy? That you can get everything you need and want through/from friends? Take some initiative to get a job if you want it so badly rather than blaming others. I hate princesses like you. I hate all the princesses in school.

I still can't believe she said that...

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Biology: Monoculture Tree Plantations

2011-09-15T14:31:00.001-04:00

I have to share this letter with someone and I couldn't think of any specific person to share with so I decided to put it on my blog.

Dear friends,

Monoculture plantations have been with us for many years, it first started with farming and the concept applied to deforested areas by replanting trees. However, I would not encourage monoculture tree plantations. It doesn’t mimic the atmosphere or look of natural forests at all since only one species of tree is planted over a large track of land. It is evenly spaced, and when they are mature, all the same height as they were planted at the same age and time. There is not much biodiversity in terms of providing habitats for other organisms. This might be considered a better solution instead of leaving a piece of barren land untouched but the negative impact that would influence lumberers to continue to cut down more trees of the natural forests which soon will be wiped out would be catastrophic. Everything will be man-made and require maintenance which shouldn’t be the case for nature. Monoculture trees can not regulate water supply or reduce soil erosion as shortly after they have grown, they will be cut down and uprooted. Fighting climate change should not be done through altering nature or falsifying it. It must be through a lifestyle change especially in the first and second worlds.

In addition, disease and disasters can easily destroy monocultures leaving little chance of valuable surviving crops for farmers to depend on. This shows that these resources are not to protect other animals but for our own greedy use. As the human population continue to increase, animal species will drop critically and trees will be cut down to the point where we only preserve a small amount of trees for their seeds to plant monocultures. It is highly unnatural and unhelpful in saving the planet since the cycle of planting and uprooting wears out the earth and changes too quickly and often for other organisms to survive in monoculture forests.

I hope you will consider what was said and further prevent the deterioration of nature to support the economy by changing your lifestyle.

Thank you.

Zoe Foo

Camwhore Day

2011-09-09T22:22:00.000-04:00

As the title states, today, I was in the mood to camwhore. Although I wasn't looking my best, I felt goofy enough to snap dozens of pictures of myself. It probably lasted from the basketball girl's team tryout this afternoon where I kept giggling everytime I missed the hoop. I wasn't taking it very seriously until I saw how fierce my ex-dragon boat team member was and when I sobered up, I actually got it in. Still, I prefer being the goofy me and this is a very vain post. Nothing special happened, only a bout of pure vanity.

Darn, I should have dressed up, tidied up my hair and worn fancy makeup. Meh, next time!

It's autumn already but today was very, very warm.

Oh! I'm super proud of my french manicure which I painted freehandedly. It was still pretty bad but a HUGE improvement from past attempts of tapeless french manicures. I will definitely be polishing my nails more often. Well, just the french manicure because it's easy to clip the ends off for work as suppose to removing the whole thing. It chipped off a bit, I didn't put a top coat because I didn't want it to last too long since I'm working tomorrow.

This is not an emo photo. It's a... misteereeus one. *mysterymysterymystery* What is she thinking about?

Actually, I was looking at the trees outside my window. They are absolutely BEAUTIFUL by the way.

Bum. You can't see how colorful they are. I'm happy to be living in a town full of trees. I'm really beginning to appreciate this place after visiting downtown Toronto a couple of times. It can be so shitty there, beggars, panhandlers, street performers, volunteers asking for money for all sorts of whatevers, filthy roads, not to mention the polluted city air. I love my town.

That's it. I have homework to do. YAY SCHOOL!

Good thing I camwhored today. I didn't update my Facebook profile pictures for so long! 5 months for one, 3 months, the other. Worst is my blogger profile picture which was three years old! All updated with today's "collection" of photos. So unproductively productive.

Hair Dilemma

2011-08-30T18:55:00.056-04:00

Ahhh... it's that time of the year again. I'm not talking about the beginning of a new school year or the end of summer. I'm talking about getting a hair cut. It's troubling business for me because for the past two years I've been trying to grow my hair really long, long as in reaching my waist and right now I've succeeded. Working in a hair salon/academy didn't help as needy students begged me to be their hair model almost everyday and I was pretty pissed since I was supposed to be the receptionist. Not a back up hair styling experiment. Anyways, I was very happy to have left that job until a couple of days ago, I realized that my best hair cuts were from that salon. But the negative experience prohibited me from enjoying and appreciating it at that time.

I can say that I've never had a satisfactory hair cutting experience all my life. The stylists would damage my hair from rough combing, painfully pull and tugg my head around and/or cut more than I asked for. For me, going to a hair salon is like going to the dentist for the majority of people. I've never had a bad experience with a dentist before so I don't see what the big deal is.

But when you've got an aching tooth... well, in my case, a shapeless headful of hair... you gotta do what you gotta do. Look at me! :[

Yes, I've gotten a lot darker in the summer thanks to all the cycling around town. It's very uneven too, my forehead and jaw area are much darker than the rest of my face. Now back to my hair, it's really needs to be trimmed or permanently styled to make it voluminous--permed. But I don't want to perm it because it's very damaging and I don't just want a trim, I want it cut to something more flattering.

Perhaps a shorter fringe? But it's so troublesome to pin it back when reading or exercising.

Plus, the salon branch that's in Toronto is charging C$50 per cut and if I convert it to Ringgit Malaysia it's almost RM150. I also have to tip! It's tough being a student on a tight budget in a western culture that throws money around like it's nothing.

I don't know what to do. *cries*

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Showcasing My Makeup

2011-08-20T00:30:00.002-04:00

Ye-Ye's Funeral

2011-08-14T23:57:00.005-04:00

I'm not sure but you might have heard that my grandfather passed away two weeks ago. I'm fine (in case you were going to ask if I was okay) and the event of my grandfather's funeral will be evenly distributed in three blog posts because I took SO MANY pictures. A hundred and twenty-four to be exact. Alright, it's not as much when compared to the amount of pictures taken at parties and tours but ever since I've slackened in blogging, it's hellot.

In the afternoon of August the 2nd, after visiting a dentist to get a referral to a couple of orthodontists, I cycled back home and quickly changed into black slacks and a white long-sleeve shirt. My aunt drove a long way downtown to Toronto's Jerrett Funeral Homes. Oh, what a surprise, they also post services on their website too. I just found out on my grandfather's obituary page that he is exactly 60 years and 8 days older than I am, I mean, I always knew his birthday but I've never known his birth year.

This whole process was very much a learning experience for me as for the first time, I was told that I couldn't wear colors such as red, brown, orange, yellow, and any bright and colorful clothes. Also, we had to be vegetarian for two days and we couldn't shower. I didn't understand why and my grandmother's explanation "It's good for Ye-Ye not good for you" didn't help. I've been to Buddhist/Taoist funerals many times in Malaysia and they were held in huge rooms of Chinese funeral homes where a dozen or so monks would chant and family members were distinctively fully dressed in their respective color of relation and gender. So coming into a rather fancy conference building that looked like a hotel on the inside was new to me.

Our room was the first room on the right upon entering.

A nicely set up welcome area with a guest book for visitors to sign their names and white packets each containing C$1 and a candy. A plain white envelope was for donations by guests which they would drop in the donations box on the left of the table (out of picture).

I knew that we write in guests books for weddings and stuff but I didn't know it applied for funerals too. I have so much to learn about social etiquette.

Now I was confused as to why were giving out money and sweets to guests when we were supposed to be bitter and mournful. I guessed that they were meant to comfort the people and reward them for coming.

I KNOW THAT WAS A BAD GUESS. BUT CHINESE PEOPLE ALWAYS MONEY-MINDED MAH.

Everything was explained thanks to the note standing on the table. It sounded rather superstitious to me but the world is full of fear and cautionary steps and conditions to alleviate the worry of bad luck clinging on or an entity's haunting. "Lucky number 8! A lucky rabbit's foot! A lucky four-leaf clover! A lucky jade ring! Lucky this! Lucky that!" I don't really believe in holy water either but all things can be blessed or cursed, holy or demonic.

We arrived approximately three hours before the start of the visiting time.

We placed food neatly on my grandfather's altar, made tea and bowed down three times with a joss stick. It was the only time I had used a joss stick since they burned one for me. The black box is what I believe to be a cassette player that gently let out chantings of "Amitabha".

They also offered the deities some oranges and a vegetarian dish.

We inspected the place, looked at Ye-Ye for the first time inside a coffin, wore a clip of colored thread rather than being fully dressed in it, and waited. My color was blue, my third aunt's daughter was green, but my uncle's son had black. It sure is complicated :S

We did NOTHING for an hour, we just sat around except for my grandmother who weeped every once in a while. I wasn't very affected at that time, I was expecting his death. Pancreatic cancer. Last stage. Doctor's prognosis: Two weeks, no more than six months. With that estimate I prepared myself and strong ol' Ye-Ye lasted for two months after the diagnosis. It was not easy taking care of him of course, he needed the constant care and attention from Ma-Ma.

After an hour or so of sitting in the room, we were told there was a pantry downstairs. Since there was no one and still another hour before visiting time, we left to stretch our legs and take a peek in the canteen.

They had a vending machine selling pop drinks and a FREE coffee machine! Whoa, VAN HOUTTE?! We thought we hit the jackpot so five of us started pressing like mad, trying all the different flavors. It turned out to be crappy, it tasted so bad I was wincing everytime I had a gulp. Horrible, really. The funeral director told me after chuckling that it's "no Tim Hortons". This is no anything, not even noob-made coffee. But obviously we didn't complain, it was a funeral home.

Plus, they had complimented us with coffee condiments in such a neat manner. The bum part was that I couldn't put any milk into my drink (dairy was included in vegetarian diet ban). So I tried Splenda for the first time which proved its potent sweetness and enhancement of flavors... of all kinds, even the month-old staleness of the coffee powder.

Ya, ya, I'll stop complaining about the coffee now. Shortly after sitting in the lower level, a few relatives arrived early. The monk came around the same time and started explaining the praying procedure to my uncle. My dad is the older son and he should have been the one holding on to the... house on a stick? I'm not sure what that represents but anyways, his being in Malaysia made my uncle the bearer of the stick and leader of the family mourning.

We had to prepare money lotuses. It's just hell money arranged in the somewhat shape of a lotus or some flower. Perhaps it's just a fancy way of piling the notes. I don't know why they call it hell money when my cousin told me that Buddhists don't believe in hell or heaven. Netherworld cash would be a less confusing term.

You know what other kind of notes were inside the pile? It made my face stone with disbelief. Guess... actually you can see it already.

U.S. DOLLARS. USD is officially hell money.

This is the first time I've ever seen this. Back in Malaysia, I've folded the yellow papers with a silver square in the middle into gold nuggets. This is TOTALLY different from the Chinese funerals I've attended before. Do they actually believe they can use American dollars in the afterlife? Why not British Pounds, it's worth more. I'm not being sarcastic. I really wanted to headwall myself with all this ridiculous thinking. I understand the hell money part, just not the earthly currency.

By 7pm, everyone who intended to come came. The ceremony started soon after and they watched us, my family and I, stand in lines, bow and march around the altar. My relatives took a video but I'm not gonna ask if they posted it in on Youtube so that I could share it on my blog. But the picture below was before our participation, the monk was hitting on the wood block and reading off a book to chant prayers for my grandfather.

At that time, I was also starving and pissed off. "How can they expect us not to eat this whole time? Seven bloody hours already, I've chewed on four pieces of gum and they won't let me drink milk but for some reason my uncle can give milk chocolate to my cousin. That's fair." I was very much in a bad mood, that's what hunger does to you, it makes you extremely irritable. Also, my uncle told me I couldn't eat chocolate but there he was, at the funeral home, giving M&M's to my toddler cousin. I don't care if he's just a child, you don't contradict yourself especially if this mourning procedure is so important. I followed the rules to give respect to your religion and my grandfather.

Aiya, whatever. I'll let it go for now.

To satisfy my painful growling stomach, I asked my aunt if I could eat and she gave me twenty bucks to buy food from any stores on the street. I couldn't go to Tim Hortons or else I would have definitely bought Boston Cream doughnuts. My elder cousin suggested biscuits when we saw a Popeye's restaurant and we bought a dozen of that with a large cup of mash potatoes. We brought it back and I munched on two biscuits and half of the mash potatoes. But I became angry that I ate the biscuits because months before I told myself that I wouldn't eat these biscuits again but my overwhelming hunger gave me no choice but to eat whatever I could.

When the visiting hours was over, we went to Richmond Hill Food Court, I believe it was called. A typical Chinese hawker-like restaurant. It was my first time going there and I was shocked by the price until I saw the portions. They were HUGE.

I guess it's more of a restaurant for families and large groups of people to share the food with like a Chinese seafood restaurant. Why, of course, they also served seafood. For the size they give us, the $8-12 price for the regular dishes seem reasonable. Seafood (which none of us ordered since we were vegetarian) was around $16-22.

The dinner marked the end of the first day of my dad's mourning at the funeral home. We were all exhausted and slept as soon as we could for the next day of cremation in the morning.

Summer School

2011-07-26T02:01:00.004-04:00

I am blogging without the burning desire to post something but rather to procrastinate from doing my homework. My Grade 10 science examination is in two days but I don't give a twig. I'm actually fed-up with the system and teachers. I do fine (between B+ to an A-) on tests but that isn't entirely reflected in my report card because they adulterate it with other factors which also weigh a lot heavier. I was conditioned to revise by completing my homework and giving my all on examinations in my primary school in Singapore. But over here it's all about group work and presentations and being the teacher's favorite in hopes of mark inflation.

I am not used to it. I've given up on this course. I don't even need this credit. I'm only taking it to prep me for the Grade 11 sciences I'm taking next year. I haven't handed in my homework for the past week. It doesn't seem relevant to me anymore. I'll just read the textbook, it's all I need. Not that I disrespect the teacher, I tell her in an honest tone, "Just give me a zero." for my assignments. I wonder why I suddenly feel so unmotivated and low. BUT I STILL LOVE SCIENCE, HOWEVER :D

I'm very relieved that I'm not alone in this age-difference academically. I have a friend who's half-Russian and half-Persian and is going through the same credit issues that I am. I took Grade 10 math while he took Grade 10 English as we both felt scared in jumping into the next university stream grade. We wanted to be prepared and not be behind in class or ignorant of any information that was expected of us. He's graduating at 20, I will also be graduating at 20. Most of my school-mates cringe when I tell them my situation. But a few wiser ones have said that it's a small price to pay, to be only a couple of years behind, to get where you want to be. An older church-mate who's 27 told me that working isn't all that fun, so don't get excited to start early. From what I've heard all around, I've concluded the main theme is "study for as long as you can".

It is encouraging to hear these comforting and understanding words. What am I rushing for? (I'm honestly assessing my ambitions, it's not rhetorical.) Oh, I know, to be normal. There will always be that feeling of awkwardness and exclusion knowing that you are older, or worse, the oldest in the class. The different maturity levels also makes it harder for me to socialize. I do behave childishly with more-familiar acquaintances but in terms of normal communication and actions--actually... nah, there are idiots in every batch of students. But the scary part is the increasing number of illiterate, rude, and ADHD-like students. Seriously, almost every high school student either has some clinical mental disorder/disease, is overweight or allergic to peanuts. WHY CAN'T I EAT A PEANUT BUTTER-JELLY SANDWICH IN SCHOOL? WHY AREN'T THERE VACCINATIONS AND CURES FOR ALLERGIES?! WHY DON'T PEANUT UM, ALLERGICS OR WHATEVER PEOPLE WHO ARE ALLERGIC TO SOMETHING ARE CALLED, GO LIVE IN AN ISOLATED ALLERGY COMMUNITY LIKE HOW THE LEPERS DID IN THE BIBLE?

I've procrastinated for two hours. It's 2am I really should study now.

Or sleep...

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The Fifth Day

2011-07-22T16:58:00.007-04:00

Ah, I've gone five days without logging into my secondary Facebook account. Actually, I became more active in this one because of my being in Canada and grouping all of my local peers to this account. I had been contemplating about deleting my Facebook account because I realized how much time I was wasting just checking my home page for notifications. Making this account caused me quite a few troubles too when friends already in my primary account requested to be my friend in this account and I was bothered as to why they would want to add both of my accounts. A few, I guess, didn't realize that they already added me, a few others probably just wanted a higher number in their "Friends" list, and the rest would be the busybodies who were offended that I didn't accept them.

If I could, I would have deleted the busybodies from my first account but that would have been too straightforward in expressing my dislike.

Last Sunday, I deactivated my Facebook account.

It wasn't exactly impromptu, on Friday I posted on my status an alternative way for my friends who don't have my number to contact me. Besides, my e-mail address was on the Info page and anyone who really needed to communicate with me should have the sense to find it there.

Months before, I argued against deleting my Facebook account because I didn't want to lose all my pictures which I spend so much time and effort in posting. A very, very pleasant surprise was that Facebook had already experienced many cases from users who only wanted to deactivate their account temporarily but also preserve all their content so that they can return to it as before when they reactivate it. Genius!

It was a dramatic process in deactivating my account. I had an anxious feeling in my chest, there was a huge sense of anticipation as how my life would change. Clicking the "Deactivate Now" button felt as if I were cutting off a cable to a bomb. WHAT WILL HAPPEN?

Nothing much. Facebook was cool about it. I was like phew! Thank God that's over.

The impact wasn't that great because I've been checking my primary Facebook account more often. Previously, it was four times a week but now it has become a daily habit. However, I am now reading more news on my other apps (mainly Huffington and BBC) and hopefully will use my time to study, read or blog more.

Night It Up! Night Market @ Markham Civic Centre

2011-07-16T18:41:00.008-04:00

Yesterday, I cycled 13km from Richmond Hill to Markham. Actually I didn't even know where I was going, all I knew was that I was gonna cycle for 4-5 hours with my ex-schoolmates (they graduated last month) to a charity event. It was a surprise that it turned out to be a bazaar.

Unfortunately my mood turned dark within the first five minutes of arriving because I found out that my schoolmate didn't bring locks so we had to carry our bicycle wherever we went. That pissed me off greatly, I was ticked off the whole time I was there. I was mostly angry at myself for hanging out with a person who was an attention-seeking, compulsive liar just so I could exercise. You will see why I want to exercise so badly later.

Grimness aside, I explored the area and immediately a stall sign caught my attention. MANGO STICKY RICE! Yayyyyyyy!~!~

It was C$3.50 and it looked really good. The mango was sweet and soft but the rice was hard and dry. There wasn't enough coconut milk in it. I shouldn't have had high expectations of the Asian cuisine in Canada but you can't blame me since they were all ASIANS. Seriously, the vendors there had mainly immigrated from Hong Kong, Taiwan and China so you'd think they'd know some traditional culinary skills to make good, authentic Asian food.

Anyways I walked over to the side and waited since my ex-schoolmates wanted to continue to obstruct foot traffic--oh, I mean... have fun playing the games at several stalls that offered catching tadpoles (or guppies) with sifts, winning Pokemon cards, shooting arrows and such.

I was standing and looking around with a bicycle in front of me. I was worried that I would be seen by friends since I looked horrible after cycling for so long and wore casual 'sporty wear'. I DID NOT KNOW WE WOULD BE GOING TO A NIGHT MARKET. When my ex-schoolmate said "charity event" I visualized an indoor warehouse like a food expo. I was wrong, I shouldn't have assumed but it was all I could do since my ex-schoolmate withheld information on purpose. (This incident had made me decide to never go out with this person again.)

I did enjoy being in a different town and being back in a pasar malam after leaving Malaysia for nine months. I never liked the pasar malam at Taman Connaught though, actually I don't understand why people like going to crowded places at all. However, I did love eating in mamaks and buying food from special pasar malams that sold more rare items of fried goods.

What was killing me the whole time was that I didn't know the name of this event and I had an urge to approach every volunteer who were dressed in purple that I saw. I didn't want to be a bother and I didn't wanna embarrass myself by revealing that I went to a charity event that I didn't even know the name to.

After standing for 10 minutes or so I crossed the ~~pond~~ sea of people with no direction or knowledge of where I was going. The stall I passed by selling Malaysian food had great business *pumps chest up with pride*

I ended up on the other side where the stage was located. It was only at this time when someone was giving a speech that I found out it was called Night It Up! which is an annual event organized by youths aged from 15-27 but the most impressive part was that this was its 10th year running. Kudos!

Look at all the people! In the booklet it says that a total of over 60,000 patrons come to this two-day charity event.

I would like to thank a kind Hong Kongese man who offered to look after my bicycle to let me roam around for half an hour. I denied his help at first because it was a borrowed bicycle and if it was stolen I'd had have to pay a lump sum for it. Because of him, I was able to enjoy a Taiwanese/Hongkongese drink. I ordered Grass Jelly Papa (C$4) which had grass jelly cubes, mini sago balls, and coconut milk.

Walking back took much effort but I was content that I wasn't carrying a bicycle since the number of people peaked at 8:30pm and it would have taken twice as long to move. (Holy COW.)

I love that Sweet Papa put an umbrella on all their drinks, it makes the C$4 more worth it. LOL. Ya, now you see how much I've changed. So I'm desperate for any opportunity to exercise now. I accept all the offers from my friends to jog or cycle. I MUST... I MUST.

We left at nine o'clock and traveled 13km by bicycle back to Richmond Hill. It took us only an hour and a half going back as suppose to the extra hour it getting to Markham Civic Center because an ex-schoolmate who didn't cycle for several years called his parents to pick him up from Markham Theatre rather than cycle back with us.

Defense Mechanism

2011-06-18T00:32:00.003-04:00

I feel guilty that I only blog when I need to write something out of my mind and off of my chest. I update my blog as frequently as I pray and I'm treating it similarly to the way I treat God... which is not good. I shouldn't pray or blog only when I have problems. It should be a regular, non-chaotic habit to enrich my life but sadly, it isn't so. So, here's another post about one of my trivial or you could say, jaded issues that I face seasonally. It's getting old really but the same stakes are always concerned which will always make it important enough for it to matter and affect me mentally.

I feel that I'm slowly losing my mind. I feel like I'm getting dumber which is ironic because it's at a time where I'm beginning to learn the most in this semester and it's when the truth of my ignorance hurts me. It's knowing my current state is humbling and sad. My shield of optimism and faith has worn off after months of fighting, of fighting bad influence such as negative attitudes and mannerisms, explaining my actions and asking for reasonability. It's gone. I'm grateful to God that I have found some comfort in this world when my home and family are the ones that beat me down. Usually, it's the family factor that keeps you strong when you're "out in the world trying to make it". However, I feel much more at ease in school and at almost any place away from where I live.

It's unfortunate. It's been 8 months that I have been here in Canada and yes, even though I did expect differences and disagreements, it's still unfortunate that it really happened. I have a defence mechanism where I become stoic when in a melodramatic situation. It's partly because I don't want to mislead the other person that I'm crying over what I've done to them, but I freeze because I would cry over being misunderstood. Again, you don't get it, you're wrong, you're assuming, you're a hypocrite and I can't bother to spell out all your past contradictions out to you because of you're memory bottomless pit, you wouldn't understand because you're a narrow-minded trout.

It's not about Ye-Ye's cancer at all. No, I think it's because you have to pick at everything that is not done in your way. I told my aunt to tell me to do whatever chores in the house that needs to be done. But she insists not doing it the practical way, she hated the idea of a timetable. She claimed that it wasn't sincere. Do you have any idea about the shit I have to go through every week when she gets all emotional? It's like I'm living with a lesbian girlfriend whom I'm stuck with. *(Nothing against LGBT)*
She's always been authoritative, "crazy" and dissident. When I was six or seven, I had a traumatizing experience of her grabbing my shirt with her hands and pulling my body up to her face while she threatened me in some sick humorous way because I pasted a no-smoking sign in the kitchen. Her humor, to me, has always been off. I never laughed at her jokes and she was always amused by the most lame things which she insists to share about and disses the people who don't find it funny. Which is another way she "jokes" by hurling rather offensive remarks in a serious manner.

My aunt thinks that I'm selfish, unsympathetic and loose. Just now she said, "I ask you to be a little bit compassionate. *makes a small measurement with her forefinger and thumb of a distance of approximately half a centimeter*" She also said that I love hanging out and that's all I do nowadays. She assumes that I have boyfriends and suspects that I sleep with them too. One time, I brought my classmate home to do a partner project with and he was a guy and immediately my family became very tense. My aunt said, "I don't know what you're doing, but whatever you're doing in the room, don't do it here in this house." What the hell did she mean by that right? I, being offended, told her, "I don't know what you were like when you were my age, but I'm not like you." Oh, party girl were you? Lonely, easy girl were you? That must have been sad to be you then but I'm telling you, I have morals. I value my body and my own dignity enough not to let any person have a piece.

From then on, I really gave up in trying to appease my relatives because I was hurt from their mistrust and impression of me. Yes, I'm a youth, yes, I'm in high school. But does that mean you can indubitably make me part of the statistics of sexually-active drug-using rebels? Frankly, at one point, I was (in terms of experimenting with a couple of substances) but I've learned from that and it was a long, long time ago. Now that I'm older and slightly more sensible, it's frustrating to be framed by an old-fashion, dimwitted, potty-mouthed know-it-all. You are everything that I never want to be and it sucks to be within the realm of your influence. I constantly look to my peers as my source of inspiration but whenever I begin to admire them, it turns into jealousy and then anger. It's always the same cycle. My multi-talented school-mates are highly intelligent, hardworking, skilled musically and supported by their parents. I admire them at first, I thank God for functional families and their success in bringing up wonderful children and then I know that I am not one of them and why I wasn't and then I become angry because I remember why. Suddenly, my self-esteem drops and I wished that I didn't even exist. But before that I try to comfort myself by comparing myself to other people who are worse off than I am but I realize how pathetic is it. It's The Cycle of Misery.

I don't know what to do with my aunt. I reached a conclusion a few hours ago that I could not allow myself to give up on my family. That's because if I were married, divorce is not an option, and the only thing left to do would be to work on my marriage and restore it to the way it was before rather than walking out on the other person. Essentially although not technically, I am "married" to my biological family members. I am morally obligated to love and care for them as much as I want to carve out my own life without the disturbances and distractions of others. I can't leave them in the ditch, I HAVE TO try to repair the relationships. But it feels impossible and I don't even wanna undertake this undoable goal. oooooooohhhhh maaaaaaaaaaaaaa iiiiii gggggggoooooooooossssssssss h. I'm hyperventilating just thinking about it.

Why must people be so difficult? Where's the invisibility cloak? Where's my wand? In the summer holidays, I plan to dive into the second book of the Harry Potter series. Oh, I'm also going to summer school. Yay, my life is productive. Wouldn't I be good for something? According to my aunt, I can't just be useful, I have to be insisting and pretentious (in my perspective of what she's saying). YA pretend to be BLOODY formal and behind the person's back COMPLAIN and SWEAR. No need for perfection let's be OBESE and crackly. Ignore the other person's wishes and opinions, FORCE your DEM' habits and ideas because it's YOUR life and you just wanna dominate EVERYONE.

blahvahabracadabra. It's 2AM. I wanna go to Wonderland tomorrow. I didn't pay 80 bucks for a season pass for nothing. I need you, Wonderland.

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Which side am I on?

2011-06-09T17:37:00.001-04:00

I LOVE DRAGON BOAT!!

I love my team, the coaches and the sport.

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Privacy

2011-05-23T16:54:00.001-04:00

"Just between you and me" means no blogtale about it or passing it on to any other person other than God. Anything other than that explicit statement is up to my discretion. I sometimes wonder if I am abusing the trust and compromising the safety of my peers when I tweet/blog about them. It's not as if I'm publishing a tell-all biography about them but maybe sometimes it'd be better to keep stories untold. Except the problem would be that I'm entirely honest in all of my writing, at least from my vantage point, and for certain incidents, I can't take it off my mind without writing my feelings about it somewhere.

I figure this is about me and since you're part of my life, you're
in this story that I reveal to the World Wide Web. My intention is not to incriminate anyone or expose delicate personal information unless permitted or under special circumstances.

Hm, well... now that that's said. I don't feel so bad and will continue blogging as I normally do.

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Drama... no, music.

2011-04-28T22:35:00.007-04:00

Today, an anticipated episode occured at an unexpected time. It was during vocals and what happened was rather shocking and scary. This was mainly caused by the teacher or the students lack of enthusiasm and cooperation which discouraged the teacher but of course, both sides were wrong. Even though I'm part of the class, I consider myself to be a bystander as I watched everything progress and took no part in the ongoing activities. You probably don't know or remember, but I've been complaining about my school for quite a while. It is very frustrating for eager students like myself to be placed in a class taught by lazy/self-centered and bias teachers and frankly, my expectations have already fallen but I still get frustrated over the unequal treatment and time wastage.

Anyways, firstly, I think my music teacher is mainly to blame because she developed the habit of chatting. People in the Western world are usually more laid-back and friendly, so it's not uncommon for teachers to be talking away to students during class time on a daily basis or at least so I've seen. The first few weeks, she talked for around 20 minutes before getting the class to warm up and sing. Obviously, the students have already gotten used to this "leisure period" in class and carried on talking even when they weren't supposed to. I'm not accusing the whole class of being undisciplined, it's approximately a third. My teacher didn't really bother fixing it either, it's only when we have this musical show nearing that she starts stressing out because we can't sing ANY of the songs correctly. We're doing Rent and for the past couple of months, we didn't practice much because we've had quite a lot of movie-time and other music tests. I think we watched three movies last month because my music teacher was away for some unknown reason. I'm not blaming her for taking leave or what not, but there are consequences for missed classes and I thought she'd handle it since after all, she's been teaching for years.

One day, which was only a week ago, she quits on us because we've spent so much time learning the songs that we don't have enough time to choreograph. The students with a musical education in class would lead groups of people in singing their parts, yes, our vocals teacher practically handed her job over to the students and sat beside the special education aide pouring her frustrations out. That made the students who were teaching pissed, they lost respect for her because she wasn't doing her job and she shifted the responsibility of teaching songs to them. One even said, "I'm not getting paid for this." and I replied jokingly, "I'll give you my lunch." They were cherry tomatoes, in case you wondered what my lunch was that day. After that, I went for Drama and my classmate who is both in my vocals and drama class suddenly tells me, "You see Miss (First Letter of Last Name) is such a crazy b***h. [Blah blah blah blah] She's f**king crazy." I'm staring at him like, how could you say that? But I casually disagreed with him and pointed to the drama teacher, saying that that was what I thought about her. He disagreed since he loved her so much and started justifying her way of teaching.

I have realized in school that the people I dislike or find shallow love teachers I despise. Anyways, not the point.

I told him, "Well, she did try to at least teach." and he goes, "No, she doesn't she f**king [forgotten]... she just cries all the time whining about whatever. Nobody f*cking cares." That classmate of mine started skipping vocal classes and the next thing I know, he quit the course and complained to the vice-principal and all. Whoa, that's someone's career you're messing with. Personally, I don't think she does that bad of a job and there are far worse teachers in our school that you should defame (like the one you love). I don't know what exactly made him hate her so much and if it was personal or a buildup of frustration because of an incompatible teaching method. I was bothered by what he said and the next day, I asked my classmate about it and told her what he said out of astonishment. "Um, (name). What's wrong with Ms.(name)? Did you know that (name) called her a crazy b**ch?" In a matter-of-fact manner, she answered, "Because she is a crazy b**ch. You do know she has multiple sclerosis right? Last year the same thing happened, she cries all the time. Like we've told her she should stop teaching if she can't handle students but she said it was fine . . . "

Yesterday, when my classmate told me he was quitting, I immediately thought about how my vocals teacher would feel and if she knew already. I have thought of quitting my drama and vocal classes before but obviously, it didn't go to such an extreme that I would be fully sure of my decision so I stayed anyways.

It started out normal in vocal class and we were supposed to do a test on the song "Without You" in groups of three. The vocal teacher was noticeably irritated when there were a trio practicing the selected segment and she was trying to talk to the class but it couldn't be clearly heard with all the noise. She made a remark like, "You guys are practicing when I didn't let you guys start yet but nevermind, that always happens..." Once she was done with her announcement she wrote a list of things we were gonna do on the chalkboard and added at the end, ". . . if you notice I'm gone."

Clearly, she was emo-ing badly. She left the classroom to photocopy some stuff and that was when trouble started. The class continued to talk, it became louder and louder, till a special education supervisor walked to the front of the class and started lecturing us on being respectful and appreciative of our vocal teacher. I happen to have noticed all of this because I was sitting at the back of the class revising my drama notes for a test in the following period. Usually I sit on the upper right-hand side reading tweets when we're doing nothing and nothing doesn't mean singing. It's when everyone is so absorbed in their conversation--even the teacher--that precious class time is wasted so rather than staring into space waiting patiently for my vocal teacher to begin I check Twitter.

As everyone agreed to warm up their voices, another special-ed aide walks up to the class and by this time I wasn't listening but heard a phrase like "whatever you're smoking... you're..." then she goes back to her chair and looks at the class then suddenly demanded to the center of the class, "What did you say?" Everyone looked at her confused. "You said eff that, I heard you say 'eff that'" Eventually, the girl she was staring dead straight at asked, "Who? Me?" "Yes you. You said 'f**k that'. You--" and then suddenly, this guy stands up while the girl was telling her friends around her that she didn't and asked if they heard it, and he started saying, "You know what, let's just start warming up. You're wasting our time." I was impressed by his maturity till he reacted in a threatening manner after the teacher continued to pursue the matter. He was shouting and stepping nearer and nearer to the special-ed aide, "LET'S JUST WARM UP THEN. WHY AREN'T YOU LETTING US WARM UP? GO AHEAD. CALL THE [principal or something]."

I was freaking out, I think we all were. I didn't understand why he was yelling or why he acted in such a way. A school administrator was called in and she requested our vocal teacher to return, when she did the administrator called for the guy who shouted after a while. Everyone started talking at once, describing to our vocal teacher what just happened, "SHE CALLED US POTHEADS. LIKE SHE SAID 'WHATEVER WE WERE SMOKING... *rest of the class agrees and starts chipping in*". All of a sudden, our vocal teacher broke down and started to sobbing, "I don't know why... why this always happens. I really don't..." I forgot the rest but she said something about the class being negative and how hard she was trying and reminding everyone about her condition. She also said that she was certain she would go to the hospital someday because of all this stress and negativity which would trigger her MS. Then a few students comforted her and also encouraged her and said things like, "Miss, I know we [something something] but we're really trying now. We're doing good now and singing and stuff. We'd really like you to teach us again." (Since for the last few days, she's been doing nothing but telling people to practice in trios.)

I saw tears trickled down the face of another girl who, just less than an hour before class, said, "I don't like Miss (letter of name). I mean, I don't like her voice. It sucks! I don't get why she teach--why she's a teacher. And she can't teach. She sounds weird. Do you actually think she's a singer? *laughs*" Another classmate defended her a little by saying she was much better three years ago but for some reason our vocal teacher's getting worse. I don't know, I... just got here. Sort of, 7 months ago.

So I heard enough of the students, one by one, butt into the drama with their own angelic consolation for the teacher. I look down on my lap to read my notes and three seconds later, the girl sitting besides me tells me to stop. I look at her and asked, "What?" "Aren't you listening?" "Well, they're comforting her." I said in a duh tone. "Yeah and that's not comforting." She was referring to my note reading. Okay, to me I was just reading notes but of course, looking from the outside, I was f**king inconsiderate to be revising at this emotional moment. I had a flash of indignity and wanted to say, "STFU. You called her a crazy b*tch so don't be self-righteous with me right now." That would have been uncalled for since afterall, what I was doing really was insensitive and she was trying to make everything feel nice for the teacher.

What can I say? I've been dulled by my own life's drama. Seeing her cry and be weak in front of class even though she was advised to stop doing this job made me question her motives for staying. Teacher's pension or love for teaching music? I think it's the first because I have asked her to teach me certain things before and she didn't give a damn, she merely replied, "You should know this by now." Why THANK YOU, (un)TEACHer. I told her, I told her I had no musical knowledge and that I can't read music. I humbly asked for her help and she bloody says, "You should know this by now"? Whatever man, really. I did not talk crap about you or slander you to the vice-principal and I paid attention during class, and this is what happens. You hardly teach us the technicalities of singing and you wouldn't explain the note theories to me and you come into class looking glum all the time. Frankly, I think you deserved it.

It's funny that I'm saying it now because earlier on, I felt bad for you and I was angry with my classmates who slacked. But again, it still is partly your fault. Don't let teaching drive you to your grave since you have this special condition. It's high school, teenagers are hard to manage. I don't know if Glee had somehow raised your hope of having a class of perfectly-pitched, musically-trained, gospel-like singers. Forget it. You need some spirit for that but you let life beat you down.

I really don't know if I should quit Grade 12 Vocals and sign up for a more theoretical course. Maybe an extra science subject like physics. Grr, I really don't know. I don't want my time to be wasted by an unfit teacher and receive trinkets of musical education for my last year in high school.

Rosseria

2011-04-02T22:25:00.004-04:00

I have so many pretty pictures of my cupido roses! They were all taken on March 22, 2011. I was so obsessed with my blooming roses I took dozens of pictures of them. I didn't have a short and slender vase for my mini roses so I had to put them in a plastic bowl which no one uses to eat anymore since I used it to wash my make up brushes.

Yee...ah, that was a bad move on my part. I couldn't find a decent pail so I took the crappiest bowl there was in the kitchen cupboard. Those plastic containers that packaged food didn't seem like a good idea so I was at my wits end. Apparently, my grandma really liked that bowl because she was really upset claiming that she couldn't eat cereals with it anymore even though I saw her use the GREEN one on multiple occasions which is why I decided to pick the yellow one. But anyways...

I sprinkled some sugar in the water. I read a tip in a gardening blog or somewhere that it would help preserve the life of the stalk. *baby voice* Who's a pretty rosey? You're a pretty rosey! Yes, you are!

I wasn't too pleased with the pictures because the color reproduction wasn't accurate so I was changing the white balance and trying all sorts of effects on my smartphone. The one I loved best was depth of field.

Is it not gorgeous?! This effect brings out the beautiful color and petals. What it does is blur out whatever that is surrounding the circle of focus (the size of the circle can be adjusted). The white balance was Daylight.

Yes, this was the prettier rose. The other one was wilting but I loved them both the same. Now I know how it feels like to be a mother. They're my beautiful babies.

Then I remembered my newly downloaded photo app--FX Camera--which has five special "lenses", they're pretend lenses. I tried most of them and um, half of them didn't compliment the roses since they were more suited for landscape/artsy/modelling photography. So all of these were, quite impressively, taken by my smartphone's camera alone. It's weird... now that I just realized there were no additional--oh wait. Found them. They were in a separate album. -.- Nevermind, I'll post them next time with other nicely taken pictures with cool DSLR-lense-like effects.

These are solarized pictures. Pink turns into a fluorescent blue and green becomes SILVER. I thought that was really cool and I wished so much in real life there would be a magical plant with these colors. The leaves sorta look like those pewter accessories.
Posterized. That's it for now. In case you read the title wrongly, Rosseria is pronounced as "roz-er-ia" (the o pronunciation can be long or short) not "roh-sir-ia" or "ross-er-ia".

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Rage

2011-04-02T00:02:00.001-04:00

"You love to yell and you can't control your emotions.N your excuse for screaming in a threatening manner is "to get it in your thick-skull"?" My intended tweet which was unfortunately a character passed the limit.

Whoa. I used to think my bitterrr *roll tongue* hatred was bad but after seeing her lose her head I now realize that anger is such a scary and unpredictable emotion. A person who has no control over his anger is like nitroglycerine. It EXPLODES unexpectedly, even when it's dealt gently with. It was crazy, I was so scared. I actually thought she was gonna kill me. Stab me with a knife or suffocate me by choking my neck. I am serious. Luckily, I had just peed so I didn't urinate in fear.

I think my paternal family probably has a long history of angry and fat people. Aren't I lucky to have those genes in my DNA? Oh but I have a fighting chance! I can.... but it's tough obeying divine instructions when I constantly give in to my natural instincts by behaving in a apathetic manner because of lost hope. If I followed the model example of Jesus, I'd be in a much better position right now.

Zoe, you just need to think logically about what's for your own good. Yes, it's unfair or unpleasant sometimes but if it's what God would like and it's what it will take to improve the situation... why not?

Think, think, think.

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Pet Plant

2011-03-20T20:53:00.001-04:00

I hope I pruned my cupido roses correctly. I'm really new to this whole gardening thing. Even though I've always been obsessed with the name 'rose' and wished my name was Rose, I never researched on the flower till I received a potted mini rose bunch two days ago. I must say that these flowers need high maintenance to be beautiful. Water, sunlight and some common soil isn't enough, they need quite a lot of fertilizers for each blooming season. I considered using manure and discovered "Humanure" where compost toilets are massly produced and people store their feces to let it break down naturally for over 2 years. That does sound like a good environmentally-helpful plan to me but the only problem would be finding a open space big enough to contain a year's worth of human poop. Well... I'm gonna let that idea go and stick to factory-made fertilizers.

I am putting a lot of hope on Rosseria. The uncle who gave it to me said it'd die after two weeks and an ignorant evil person (friend) said it'd die in two days. Once I had Rosseria, I expected it to live forever so I was pretty confused when I heard them say that. I've learned why the daisies from Ikea did not live past two weeks; I didn't fertilize it or plant it in the earth. Silly me, I didn't know anything about taking care of plants. Anyhoo, I tell Rosseria everytime I have a quiet moment with it that it's beautiful and healthy. I call Rosseria 'it' because I don't know if it's a boy or girl. I don't generalize all flowers as female plants as most girls would like. Yeah, I know they probably don't have a gender as they don't have reproductive parts like those with pollen but I like to personify things.

Having a plant is the most wondeful feeling in the world to me right now. I wanted a dog or cat but it just wasn't a good time but I really wanted something lovable to keep me company. This gift was really given at the perfect time and it was the perfect present. Not only do I love plants and flowers, I can take care of something that doesn't require too much responsibility and it is beautiful, it truly is. When I look at it, it makes me forget the present. I can't stop staring at the perfect formation the petals make, how they gently overlap each other. Hmm, if I do successfully sustain Rosseria... I think I've found a new hobby.

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Picture Perfection

2011-03-14T23:15:00.006-04:00

Even though the cyber trend may change from time to time, like from blogging to microblogging or vlogging, one thing stays the same: Looking good in front of the camera. I'm not the vainest girl you'll find, I don't make looking pretty my top priority when going to school or recording a vlog but nevertheless, I HAVE to take a good picture. Not just of myself, of food and friends too, I think my "photography" skills aren't all that bad. Whenever I take pictures of other people, they like it most of the time but I do not receive the same pleasure when they help me to take a photograph. :(

So, even for Twitter, I go through a lot of pain taking the best picture to tweet. I posted this picture on February 16, 2011 and the purpose was to show my lunch and to give a refresher on how I look. I've noticed that I do look different every few months and I don't blog much anymore so there's no recent party/gathering group photos and self-taken portraits.

Here I was, tweetpic-ing myself out there.

But that didn't happen as simple as it looked. The thought to tweetpic my lunch was caused by having not tweeted at all (or much) that day and so I tried to take a photo of myself holding the Ziploc bag in the hallways. But there were students roaming about and it's pretty embarrassing when they're looking at me being a lone camwhore. That... unfortunately, made me do something even more humiliating.

I hid inside a cubicle in the female washroom.

OH GOODNESS, I KNOW. #1

But no, this photo wasn't good enough. It's a little blur and I look fat.

Perhaps I'll move the camera angle a little more to the side. #2

Godiva, no, I look weird.

It's probably not the angle but my face, I'll make a facial expression! #4
(Take #3 of me with a closed smile was immediately deleted.)

My teeth are so yellow, gosh, I need to find a good whitening toothpaste. That's it, I give up.
(After two more quick unsuccessful tries.)

And so I did... momentarily. While I was hanging with a handful of classmates by the ground level staircase I decided to give it another shot.

Take #7

Horrible, HELL no.

More centered. #8

I hope nobody sees this picture. D:

I was already used to the normal lens of my phone's camera, it's not wide-angle like my digital camera, but I couldn't help but feel frustrated. I have since been reduced to asking help from others to take pictures of myself. I did exactly that, I asked a classmate of mine to snap a picture with my phone and even though I didn't like it completely, I gave in and tweeted it.

Take #9

Grrrrr. See? It wasn't very simple at all. It took nine snapshots within seven minutes just to tweet one bloody picture. It's crazy and I'm never gonna put so much effort to get a decent tweetpic again.

Or will I...?

Satisfay

2011-03-12T11:16:00.001-05:00

For the past half hour, I've been practising my beating. When the cashier/salesman was showing me the different types of drum sticks and letting me test them, he saw that my left hand was beating incorrectly. He knew at once that I was right-handed and gave me a little tip to even out my hands usage.

Thanks Derek, you were a really friendly and helpful at the Cosmo Music center. I really appreciate how you taught me to use the drum sticks properly and complimented me on holding them perfectly. I hope you continue to play the drums in all the cool music scenes.

Also, I'm so grateful to the developer who made the metronome app for free for Android devices. I will support by clicking ads!

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My Second Pair of Drum Sticks

2011-03-11T16:39:00.001-05:00

Oooomgggg, I am absolutely elated. I JUST got my second pair of drum sticks, well, third, sorta. Since a friend gave me his first pair of drum sticks after I bought my first. I had to buy them because I left almost everything I own in Malaysia. The only thing I brought with me were the bare essentials: clothes and cosmetics. My basic drum book, two pairs of drum sticks and practice pad are all in Cheras.

I am unhappy about that, the drum pad was a birthday gift on my 16th birthday party by my former drum teacher turned friend. Well, all I wish for right now is to get all of my things over here and make the best out of what I have.

I don't tell people I wanna be a drummer in the future because I'm not good at it now (yet!) and it'd probably just become a favorite hobby of mine. Once I get a job, I can start getting drum lessons.

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The Lazy Log

2011-03-07T19:11:00.002-05:00

The video was ended impromptu because How I Met Your Mother was starting.

The End of Good Things

2011-03-05T14:41:00.002-05:00

I'm very sad that my math teacher is leaving in April. It's a short month away. She's the one good and caring teacher I have, yet I won't have her for even one semester. What is this? There's this crappy pattern in my life where all the good things are shortlived and all the crap stays. Just like how all of the good people in the homeschooling center left to migrate to others countries while all the...actually, I think it's best that I not say it. Godiva, I love her. I want to hug her leg and beg her not to go. She's one of the few good things in my life right now.

Don't go, math teacher, don't go.

What if the replacement teacher is a mean person? Great, I just started crying again.

She's an amazing teacher really. She's patient, caring, professional and she even helps students who are not in her class. I wish she would stay.

It's all the same

2011-03-05T13:07:00.003-05:00

Coming back to Canada was a miracle for me, I was overjoyed that I could finally go back to my home country. Even though it was a huge step closer to where I wanted to be, I knew that it would not be the end of my problems. I truly believe that no two people can live under the same roof together in harmony. I've witnessed so much and I've often accurately predicted what is to come and also desperately hoped it wouldn't. Before arranging my flight back home, I chatted with my aunt over the phone and I knew, I knew from the very first phone call that living with her would be a problem. How she spoke and her sense of humor was very different from mine and it was a good preparation for me to think about how to deal with that once I moved into my grandparent's house.

If there was a way to live and study in Canada by myself, I definitely would have done that. Realistically, I couldn't and I still can't. Going to school, buying and cooking my own food, bills and working would all have been too much for me. I've always hated the fact that I was stuck because of all the limitations in my life. I never got a headstart, I received little moral support, I was constantly misunderstood and blamed and all of this resulted in me being on survival mode. From the beginning, friends of mine have told me to think for myself and to think about my future and not worry about others. But I thought that that was such a selfish way to live, how could I not care for my family? As time went by, I realized that this was necessary. My family didn't even care about me. I was excluded from my mother's concern financially and educationally ever since she got a boyfriend. My father was never a good dad, he never helped me with my homework even when I asked, all he cared about was his pride, his failing business and getting drunk with his friends. My brother? A completely selfish, self-absorbed guy who's always desperate to get a girlfriend. He pretends in public to be the victim of my refusal to acknowledge him as my sibling when he treats me like crap at home. He's an asshole, it's an intrinsic part of his soul. When we were still in Canada, when I from 4-8 years old, he's always treated me badly. He only cared about his social life and he hated that he had to take care of me. He'd chokeslam me, call me names, and he would never share his toys. Then in Malaysia, he'd hog the T.V. and computer which he knew was unfair and when I was using the computer he would push me aside and use it. He used force to get his way. He called me a slut when I came out of the washroom with a towel on for no reason, I was only 10 or 11 at that time. He was proud that he got around 300 views on his Friendster profile a month and said he was popular in highschool.

When I got to highschool, I became more popular and people said I was the prettiest girl in my batch and I received over 2,000 views on my Friendster profile. He never ever said I was pretty, his response was "That's because you're a girl." Before I got into secondary school, he said PSLE was "so easy" and he had to take O levels which was so HARD and he called me stupid and said I would be in a Normal Technical class which was a class for people with a low PSLE score. I ended up being in the best class which was the Express class.

I never understood why he had to be so mean to me. He always started the fights and I really don't know why he was like that. Yet in front of others, he pretends to be neutral. It sickens me so much how he lies and denies every bad thing he has done. It's disgusting. They're all so disgusting. When I got kicked out my house in Cheras, he didn't care or try to help. So would you blame me if I didn't acknowledge him as my brother? It find it revolting calling him my brother, his death would not affect me the slightest bit. Actually, it would. It'd make me feel relieved. That he would stop using my name to know people. In church, he'd start chatting girls up by saying how he's related to me. How he manages to have a clear conscience as a Christian and treat his family like shit is a wonder. No, he doesn't disrespect our mother but he only talks to her when he needs something. Not that she minds it either, he's her only son and is the most important family member to her.

Perhaps it was because of the two miscarriages or maybe that didn't even affected her innate bias. Whatever it is, they are dead to me. But I can't. I'm constantly struggling. The Bible says to forgive and love but I just want to live my own life and not try to heal broken relationships. Why should I be good to them when so much injustice has be done to me? I really just want to have a good group of buddies, live by myself comfortably and study or work for the rest of my life.

Whoever I live with, there's this tendency for me to be roughly treated. WHY? I don't know. People have this need to bring me down and break my spirit. I don't even poke my nose into their business but they're always in mine. They complain I don't care, well that's because I don't want to anymore. It's not like you'd take my advice or change for the better.

This sucks, I can't stop crying. How this started was because my aunt yelled at me for only vacuuming the hallway and my own room. She shouted, "If you wanna vacuum, you do everyone's room or don't vacuum at all." I didn't start crying just because of what she said but the fact that I had to continue residing with her for an indefinite period of time and the horror of living with such a character. After two months of living with my grandparents and aunt, I found this awful resemblance between them and my family in Malaysia. My aunt was just like my dad and I even I told her that and she said, "Yeah, we're brothers and sisters." No, siblings are not necessary alike in mannerisms. My aunt and my dad was similar from the way they laugh, to their temper, to their weight, to their humor and--oh this one just hit me--to their accomplishments. They're both overweight/obese, they have this unpleasant loud chuckle, they're short-tempered (and unreasonable), and they both like starting their own businesses. Let's see, my dad's divorce, my aunt never got married (or had a boyfriend for that matter).. my dad and aunt each had a one-time successful business a long time ago but both aren't doing well now. It does seem to me that they mirror each other perfectly. Both of them have prejudice that once you anger them they want to pick a fight(start an argument) with you for anything that you do, just like when I vacuumed which seemed harmless but she had to make it into a big deal.

No, I don't pity any of them but myself. What is this pitiful life I have for? To be a case study? GOD, why? It's either I kill them or myself. But now that the tears has stopped and I can start thinking logically. I really do have to live for myself. It is a bad start but I can end it well with hard work. I just got so tired on being on survival mode for so long, to be constantly chasing happiness and true independence. All that I've been through sobers me so much, it has forced me to be realistic. Which is a good but sad thing.

Rollin' rollin' ownin'

2011-02-28T10:52:00.002-05:00

While watching a documentary about William Shakespeare, my english teacher passed me a piece paper. I thought it was gonna be another questionnaire sheet but to my delight, it was an Honor Roll certificate!! The first thing I felt was pride and the after-thought was, "I've only heard about this on T.V. It was on Two and a Half Men last week! "

My newly-boosted ego was deflated when I realized that my teacher was going around giving half the class the same certificates as well. Jeez Philadelphia cream cheese, it was not some exclusive club to be in. Hahahah, but anyways, I am happy that I was picked to be on the honor roll even though probably half the students on the school are on it.

I do feel encouraged to continue pursuing academic excellence despite my exhausted efforts of being the best in class. I watch too much T.V. and waste too much time checking Twitter and Facebook updates. I must focus moreeeee... my dream, DREAM, is to receive a scholarship for my desired course.

Prayin', prayin', believin'!!

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Ha Mee

2011-02-26T20:38:00.008-05:00

I went out today, which is a little unusual but not in this case since it was meeting up with family friends and I was going with my aunt. I haven't gone out with my friends at all ever since I came here. My legal guardian is so suspicious of everything and asks too many questions that I become sick and would rather stay at home, find a job, save money and move out once it's possible. I don't have much to celebrate about being 18 when I'm still under the control of others who think they know better when they don't.

ANYWAYSSS... this is me. Not really, I look different. It's the make up that ages me. But it's cool having a different face once in a while.

We had prawn noodles for lunch in the home of our family friend. I never really noticed the ingredients for prawn noodles because it wasn't my favorite dish. Aunty Lydia used yellow noodles (yi mein if I'm not wrong), rice vermicilli, bean sprouts, eggs...

Not forgetting what guy's would call "the good stuff": meat. There's prawn, err, more like shrimp to me, chicken and... is that fish cake? Even I'm not sure of what I ate.

Nice Aunty Lydia heating up the noodles for my cousin and me.

It only takes a minute or two since it's already been cooked.

Click on photo if you would like to see the larger image of the prawn noodles I ate.

It was simple; bland with a little spiciness in it. It was nice of them to invite us over for a little lunch gathering.

Mexican-imported Mangos

2011-02-22T07:32:00.002-05:00

Aren't Mexicans considerate? I've never seen one of these helpful color-comparison fruit stickers on a mango in Malaysia before. It's probably because we didn't need them. When I saw this, I was like "Whaaaat? Cool."

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Treachers

2011-02-16T00:19:00.009-05:00

Hello, I'm here to release my school-related frustrations again. And yes, it is about the teachers again. Well, in the first week of the new second semester, I was pretty happy with my classes overall; the atmosphere, the teachers and my unbefriended classmates. I didn't want to jinx it so I didn't want to go around telling people, "OOH, I LOVE THIS SEMESTER. LAST SEMESTER SUCKED." Except that... I did. So it's all mai fawlt for cursing what possiblee could have been a good thing. A few issues that were bothering me were how the teachers were using the class time and how they were handling us students.

I am not gonna specify what subject or which teacher exactly because I don't wanna end up in trouble or get an 'F' for no reason. O' yes most of them teachers are partial, quite the emotional bums at times. I'm taking four subjects so I'll label them as Z, X, C,and V and for the four teachers 1, 2, 3, and 4.

In Class Z, Teacher 1 is a very good teacher in a sense that s/he thoroughly teaches on a topic by giving presentations and makes us write notes like crazy. The only not so good part is when s/he skips to the next slide without giving us ample time to write the points down. S/he isn't long-winded and doesn't talk about her/his personal life or ask students irrelevant questions. The only weird thing that I noticed after being whispered to by my neighbor is that Teacher 1 really does only pick on 'colored' pupils.

What my fellow neighbor said was, "Racist. S/He only forgets the names of the Asian people."

They weren't Chinese names like Chee Cheong Fang or Lee Bim Boh. They were normal English names like Michelle, Katherine and Helena. (Not the real names of the people in this story.) During her/his lectures, s/he would ask the class questions and usually there aren't any volunteers, and Teacher 1 would 90% of the time pick someone colored. Chinese, Indians and Africans, whatever other races there are. I did try to justify her/his actions by stating a pretty valid reason that two-thirds of the class were not Caucasian/White. But it seems that Teacher 1 has already established a reputation for being racist, other than my neighbor who first told me, my eastern friend also said the same thing. You might think all of the Asians are the racist ones against her/him but NO, my Canadian (read:White) ex-classmate called him a "racist bastard" as well.

I don't know how s/he marks--as we have just started to begin group assignments--but it would be unfair for someone who has a racial prejudice to be marking our school work. What if on the paper s/he sees someone with the last name "Tan", "Ho", "Aiswaryah" or "Sulinnuvapom" and gives a lower grade than deserved? That would be messed up.

Moving along to the next scenario, it's Class C and Teacher 3. It took me a leap of faith to sign up for Class C and I wanted to give my all and really master it. It is one of the careers that I'm seriously considering. However, Teacher 3 decides to waste our time dilly-dallying with her/his endless narcissistic chatter and ramblings about teaching the ninth graders. This past whole MONTH, I've learned only three-pages worth of information and practiced two new activities. What happened to the 20 hours? I'll tell you, Teacher 3 spent 15 hours talking about current news, interrupting students' sharings and broadcasting details of family members and events.

Obviously, I was drained of all my patience by the second week. I risked a possible tattle-tail trouble by telling the student next to me how frustrated I was by Teacher 3. "We don't learn anything in this class. All s/he does is talk about her/himself and chat with students. I don't like her/him." My classmate replied, "S/he's actually my favorite teacher. S/he's really nice and..." I forgot what he said for the rest of the sentence. I said, "S/he's totally not professional. S/he's supposed to be teaching but we're doing NOTHING. Like, everyone's just listening to the conversation s/he's having with a few people."

"N-no, s/he IS professional, it's just that, sometimes... s/he forgets s/he's a teacher and s/he's more of a friend. So... yeah." I just stared at him for three seconds wondering how what he just said not contradict.

That's pretty much it for Class C, every day my school hour is wasted by an overly-caring ~~self-absorbed~~ teacher who doesn't know how to differentiate tea/beer time with girl/guy friends and a bloody classroom full of students INSIDE a public school for educational purposes. I don't mind teachers and students bonding but it is unfair to be wasting other people's time for your own leisure, especially when you're still getting paid even though you're not doing your job most of the time.

As I thought of all the teachers I've had, I realized I could group them into one of four categories. 1)Unprofessional and uncaring, 2)Unprofessional but caring, 3)Professional and uncaring, and 4)Professional and (surprisingly) caring. I even drew it out for you guys, see see?

To sum this story up, Teacher 2 is more similar to Teacher 3 but less intense and talks more about TV shows and public events than personal life while Teacher 4 is more like Teacher 1 but is not a racist and s/he is professional and VERY caring.

I LOVE YOU TEACHER FOUR!!1111!!11!1!! You rock, I bake you cookies for teacher's day. You're the reason I don't bring massacre teachers!! Okay, I should not joke about that. School shootings are not funny and they are a sensitive issue. I still love Teacher Four though and I hope s/he lives forever.

The Make Up Ministry

2011-02-12T20:11:00.001-05:00

I really miss church and my ministry. I wish I had been more confident when applying make up on the vocalists. Now my hands are itching to make up someone, not myself, it's not as fulfilling. Browsing through newspapers I'd color the eyelids, lips and eyebrows of the featured person. I even drew on Rob Ford (mayor of Toronto, I think) within the first few days of landing here.

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Me Blue Binder

2011-02-03T22:14:00.001-05:00

Look at that, it's my new binder that I just bought from Staples (Business Depot) this afternoon because of a certain crummy 364-paged English course pack (which cost me $10 FYI) that doesn't have its own binder. Aren't they generous?

Nevermind that, I wanted to just show you the pwetty designs I drew on the front! Fine, not as pretty or fanciful as I liked it to be since I have little artistic talent but I'm happy with it. I disinfected with a few sprays of Lysol, by few I mean about a dozen 1-second long blasts of antibacterial chemicals, and wiped it all off with tissue a minute later. Next I had to make it mine. So that if someone took it they can't keep it by saying, "YOUR NAME'S NOT ON IT."

A-ha! I'm one step ahead of you, you imaginary future thief.

I asked my aunt to do the shadowing since she studied graphic designing in university. I'm very proud of her effort! ^____^ I don't find myself to be the overly girly type who sticks on diamonds and glitter, you know, heavily 'bling up' all my gadgets and stationeries. But I really do need to sanitize and personalize most of my possessions. It's a must. I clean all the stationeries in my pencil case twice a year and the case itself every year or two. As you can see, I don't have a OCD neither am I a clean freak but a lot of people don't really care about the cleanliness of their surroundings or belongings so it TOTALLY grosses me out.

I get even more disgusted when the guys who are clearly unhygienic and sloppy borrow my stationeries and when they ever do return it, it contaminates the rest of the CLEAN and PURE stationeries; the UNDEFILED ones inside my pencil case! Goodness, what have them dooshes done to my dear daughters...

I'm too emotionally attached to my things.

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Foodie with goodies

2011-01-22T02:37:00.011-05:00

Sometimes I tell myself, "God, do I love this country! Canada should be called the country of confectionery!" But then I realized that most of the awesomest snacks are imported from the States. So the pictures below were taken on the second and third day after I landed which is the 14th and 15th of October last year. A few things were on my mind and one of them was eating all the candy and junk food I missed out on the past decade.

They did have Pop Tarts in Malaysia but they cost around RM12.50 a box while over here it's CN3.50. It's almost the same when you convert it, I know, but I didn't wanna be paying so much for Pop Tarts in Malaysia. I had Pop Tarts for breakfast three times a week over the next four weeks.

It was disappointing, even though it was a childhood luxury of mine, it wasn't the same. I forgot that I had to toast it but even after I did and it tasted better, it still sucked. The biscuit was tasteless and softer than the topping, there wasn't as much gooey filling as the illustration on the box and I couldn't taste the blueberry glaze. It was all sugar and artificial coloring. It looked mouldy too, so I had to break off the bits of greyish parts and throw them away. I had dipped the biscuit into my hot cocoa to make it more appetizing but after awhile, I stopped forcing myself to eat the tasteless biscuit and broke them into fine crumbs to feed the birds by throwing it out in the backyard.

I thought that maybe it was just one bad box and continued to buy other flavors. The strawberry milkshake (or was it yogurt?) was better and I forgot the other one but I'm not gonna ever buy Pop Tarts again. I'm afraid that I expected too much from them and was utterly disappointed.

I wouldn't call my grandma's home-made kaya "candy" or "junk food" but it's really just a motherly-made sweet bread spread. I don't know how to classify that. It looked different, I thought my memory was flawed but no, it really was different. It used to be more creamy, yellowy and egg-y a decade ago, now it's more green, slimy and sweet.

They were the best, I would reminisce in Malaysia and asked my mom if she remembered the kaya Grandmother made. I was so happy that I could eat Ma-ma's home-made kaya again. The only minor problem was that it was missing one ingredient--pandan. Aiyooooo... but kaya IS all about pandan! Pandan is one of my favorite flavors. I love pandan bread, pandan ice-cream and it's the reason why I love kaya so much. Still, it was good. Too sweet but still gooood.

Reese, m'm, Reese! The chocolate that I was most excited to eat. There is something very special about the peanut butter and chocolate combination, a craving something Cadbury and Ferrero Rocher couldn't satisfy but Hershey's and Lindt probably could.

I went crazy, I was practically eating 3-10 cups of Reese every single day for a month. I was out of control, they were very addictive. They missed 10 years of my life and they needed to make it up to me. Reese is very enjoyable to eat because they are packaged differently and the way their product is contained makes it feel like a chocolate cupcake.

After eating so much, my taste buds were numb and I couldn't taste the the chocolate or peanut butter at all, plus, I noticed how oily they were. I managed to quit Reese by eating other snack foods.

Okay, not quit Reese entirely but just Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. I got a few packets of Reese's Pieces on Halloween and I finished all of them even though they suck because I was craving for the peanut butter cups. They weren't bad at first and they didn't taste awful or anything. It's just that...

There's no peanut butter taste and there's hardly, if any, chocolate in it. I never enjoyed Smarties or M&M's because the sugar-color coating of the hard shell dominated the taste of the button-sized chocolate. I wasn't pleased eating it but the sugar rush made me smiley.

The best new chocolate product of 2010 would be Leclerc's Celebration. My grandmother had a box of the milk chocolate biscuit. There are three varieties to choose from: Milk chocolate, dark chocolate and caramel. How good it tasted actually shocked me, it wasn't some cheapo-cocoa topping on a biscuit but standard milk chocolate! There was one month when I ate three boxes of them. There's 24 pieces in a box and in one night when I was snacking, I ate a dozen biscuits. They were very addictive too.

The biscuit and chocolate are both high in quality. I was more interested in the chocolate so half the time I would break them apart and leave the biscuits for my grandmother and aunt. Celebration is so affordable too! It was CN2.50 at Wal-Mart, now the price has increased to CN3 but it is still value for money.

This explains why I became fatter. There's no PE in school, it's too cold to walk outside, I overeat and I eat unhealthy food. Winter's the season to eat and pig out, spring is when you pay and summer is to show your body off. Autumn? Hmm, looks like autumn is an in-between season and I feel that it has no particular fitness theme to it.

The Different Education Systems Pt. 2

2011-01-22T01:47:00.004-05:00

You know, I decided to finish that post abruptly because I was ranting too much and I'll REALLY try explain more about the education systems in this post. About the average, I didn't understand why the percentage were so important to my classmates. All they ever asked the teacher was for their overall percentage. Our grades are factored by school work, tests and final examination. Usually the final examination is only 10-20% of our total grade/score. The most important thing would be to participate in the projects given by the teacher, do homework and score fairly well in bi-weekly tests. So getting 70% or more in a report card doesn't mean much, it's not something to be proud of, it just meant that you basically carried out the role of what a student should do.

The Singapore education system is very different. There are four, if I remember correctly, major examination periods through out the year. Your score on these examinations are the marks you get on your report card, it's so simple. Anything other unrelated matter to the marks would be irrelevant, rebellious students will have teachers pointing out certain problems and characteristics of the individual students at the "teacher's comments" section.

That was why I took so long--three months--to understand exactly what the average was about and how the hell it was calculated. If a teacher likes you, she can just change the marks on her computer and buff up your percentage. If a teacher doesn't like you, I don't know what he would do. But as far as I see, half the teachers don't really care about the students and wish they weren't teaching. You can see it in their attitude and one even admitted it, others show it by insulting the students with innuendos.

For the homeschooling system that I was in, character reports were more important, since it was a Christian, American syllabus. At the center I homeschooled at, many of the teachers weren't qualified. Great, now I sound like a teacher hater. It's in my honest judgment that I find these supervisors do not deserve to be titled a "teacher". I'm a logical, honest and fair person. You can look up my horoscope if you don't believe me (LOL). So my supervisor in the center always picked on me, it was obvious, everyone agreed with me too. For some reason, I always stand out and in this case it wasn't a good thing. On my report card, he gave me all Bs and Cs. He was a mentally-disturbed, overly spiritual man with an equally mentally-disturbed son who was a goof. He made his son slap himself for using the word "evil" casually. I forgot the exact words his son said but it was nothing really, it said something like "That cup is evil." Just something minor and irrelevant but he was told to slap himself for saying that because evil was a strong word and it was used to describe Satan. Why did I call his son a goof? Because he didn't mind slapping himself, he had a chubby face and rabbit teeth and he wore glasses. He made weird jokes which nobody found funny and whoa, he sounds like me... um, he's goofy because he's just plain weird, special, whatever politically correct word you wanna use.

After I changed into another class, my supervisor gave me all As. In fact, she gave the whole class all As for their morality despite knowing that they cheat because she doesn't care. That's great, this generation's got it good. We don't have to work for anything and we still get the qualifications to disguise our ignorance. Aren't I lucky? Why am I complaining? I wouldn't want a highly competitive class where I would sink to the middle. I should be happy that I'm still gonna get my high school diploma even though I give crap work to the teacher. Why am I so bothered?

Maybe it's because I WON'T BE PREPARED FOR UNIVERSITY. I might feel so smart in this school but in reality I'll be the dumbest person in university. The standards are scarily low and I'm just so fearful that I can't make it after I graduate. I'm so scared.

The Different Education Systems

2011-01-22T00:39:00.007-05:00

After tweeting my average score for two subjects, I received a reply and for the sake of convenience, I'm gonna copy and paste the conversation below.

"If I started at the beginning of the semester I wouldn't have a 73% average for marketing [ :( ] and 87% for English."

"isn't tht enough??! thats an A alrdy!"

"Not in this public school system, rather sucky for an easy curriculum. I could have gotten 90%, hoping for next semester!"

"omg! that's crazy. can't believe kids thr are so smart!"

"Um no, really, it's not like Singapore. Singapore has world class education, it's different here, getting 90 is normal."

Soon, I realized what the confusion was all about. Having studied in a primary school in Singapore for four years and six months in a Chinese elementary school in Malaysia prior to that and also being homeschooled for three years, I knew the differences in the grading system. Well, not to the dot exactly but just more knowledge on how they all generally work since I was exposed to each of them for a substantial period of time.

I didn't understand much about the Canadian public education system though. I left this place when I was eight years old and I didn't even know what I was doing back then. Now that I'm back into the system, I'm beginning to learn how this country educate and grade students in public schools.

It was shocking, really, I was horrified. Maybe it's because I'm in the college level where all the students with behavioral problems and "mental setbacks" are. It's just like EM1, EM2 and EM3; the way Singapore used to (or maybe still do) class students based on their academic marks. College would be between EM2 and EM3, Mix(College/University) would be EM2 and Workplace would be EM3. My guidance counselors did assure me that they put me in this level because I was a new student and they needed to know how well I would do. I was also afraid to be put into the toughest class with too much work to catch up on so I requested to be put in the lowest academic level for math: Grade 11 Workplace Mathematics.

After three days I changed to College and it was fine. For English, I thought that I was put into a "special" class, not gifted, "special". It was because I saw a student on an electronic wheelchair with a nebulizer attached to her throat. Ironically, the teacher was asking students to read from "A Midsummer Night's Dream" by Shakespeare and the way they read made me gawk. My eyes widened and I was thinking, "Wtf, did they put me into a slow learners class?! WTF?!?!" Immediately after the class, I approached the teacher trying not to look proud or anything (because I wasn't and I didn't want to give the wrong impression) and I asked, "Um, excuse me. Am I in a slow learner's class? 'cus I'm not a slow learner and I think my english is okay but I don't know how to write essays and stuff."

I really wasn't trying to come off cocky, I was panicking man, I was totally freaking out. I couldn't let myself be in that class for the rest of the semester. It turned out that it was a college class and he said the students in that class weren't so bright and gave me tips on writing essays to help me prepare for university english. Yes, it was embarrassing. I didn't mean to insult the whole class like that but I really was expecting better from a country who's main languages are French and English. Then I learned a new thing, youths these day hardly read which means they can hardly spell or read.

So doesn't it baffle you how exactly these students pass and manage to graduate? When I found out I was like, "HEY, THEY DON'T DESERVE THAT HIGH SCHOOL DIPLOMA. IT'S NOT FAIR, I'M WORKING HARD FOR MINE AND THEY'RE... THEY'RE CHEATING AND SLACKING AND BARELY PASSING." That was why I was complaining so much during the first few weeks when I got into this school. I'm not proud that I'm the top in class for English (but relieved nonetheless) because it's a farce. This whole education system is a bloody joke to me.

Students with a 49% get "bumped up" to 50% which means they pass and earn, no, not earn, they receive a free credit. Teachers help students during tests, they're just not just explaining the question but bloody spelling out the steps to solve/answer them. Teachers are SO lenient, they feel pressured emotionally when students say, "Aw c'mon, give me an extra 5 marks. I'm failing!" I think the MOE needs to check on the professionalism of teachers. How can teachers pity the incompetent students in the class and increase their marks for the sake of helping them to pass? Good teachers teach well and they are consistent and impartial. Over here, they let the class chit-chat and only when they're (the teachers) not in the mood to participate in the conversation do they tell the class to quiet down.

Some even think they can intimidate students to silence by staring at them with a grim face only to have them talking again after three seconds. What are you gonna do? We already know your empty threats, you wouldn't follow through what you say about deducting marks because of your soft spot for your students or maybe because you don't wanna argue about why you're giving them a F. It's a no brainer of how to handle students really, be fair and consistent. You don't raise marks for some students for no reason and leave out the rest. You should have a limit and whenever students cross the line, show us that there will be consequences. I saw so many bloody times of classmates getting away with things and all of sudden the teacher demands them to stop. You shouldn't have let them get away the third time.

Also, in marketing, the teacher pretended to be fair to the rest of the class by announcing loudly that since a group was not ready for the presentation, they would have a zero. The next day? She was expecting them to give a presentation in front of the whole class but 3 out of 4 of the members skipped class. The next, next day when they were all present, she was annoyed that they weren't setting up the projector and what not for the presentation. They didn't even know they were supposed to present anything, a guy vindictively said, "But you said we couldn't present anymore!" See? Inconsistent and unfair. The teacher decided that there wasn't enough time because she needed to teach the rest of the class and told the group to pack the equipments back and demanded that if they wanted the marks they would have to present it in the third period even when they had other classes.

Wow. What a way to go. She continued justifying herself, just like when she asked for a pencil and I lent her a pen and she forgot to return and blamed me for not remembering to take it back from her. I was like "Wow." The teacher's even worse than the students who borrow my stationeries. Even though I find my classmates who don't bring stationeries to school to be total penisheads and they lose my things or forget to return it, at least they don't try to turn the table around and make it sound like it was my fault. Honest penisheads are better than self-justified deniers.

Just me, me and me

2011-01-19T22:07:00.003-05:00

Peanut Butter Cookies

2011-01-19T21:12:00.005-05:00

Peanut butter, who doesn't like peanut butter? I used to hate it when I was younger, it was so dry that it would stick to my throat and it wasn't very tasty either. Well that was ten years ago, now they made it creamier and delicious. Peanut butter is so popular, it's the IT breadspread, LEGIT. Nah, actually I think yogurt will soon be the cool breadspread to eat. Still, peanut butter is very "in", they've made peanut butter and jelly swirls in a jar, Reese (proof of God's love) and peanut butter cookies.

Specifically, my Ma-ma's Chinese peanut butter cookies for Chinese New Year. Even though Chinese New Year is three weeks away, my grandma couldn't help but to prepare by baking all the goodies. I woke up one afternoon to this, it was just four days ago(the 15th).

But gee, Chinese New Year is on the 3rd of February this year. Ma-ma's always excited about the new year for two reasons: 1)The new Chinese calendar and 2)the hope of a better(auspicious) year. Well, that's nice, it's good to be excited about something. Just like how I'm excited about Christmas every year, except for last year, I felt dead on the inside for some reason.

Anyways, MY GRANDMA'S PEANUT BUTTER COOKIES ROCK.

She cuts them like Playdoh...or no, no it was actually Playdoh that copied baking. But still, it's a whole lot of fun... just that my Ma-ma complains that it takes too much time to make. I think it's fun. They're pretty easy to make, the hard part is just mixing in the right amount to get the perfect texture and taste. Not that I know anything about that. Grandma rolled her *secret* ingredients into a dough ball and rolls them out and then she used the little cookie cutters to slice them out.

They're so adorable, they're like tiny little peanut buttercups. Buttercups are beautiful but with peanut butter, they're beautiful AND delicious.

Ma-ma made two and a half trays of them which was a little over two boxes. I brought about 10 pieces to school to let my friends try them and they liked it. Yay, acceptance! Seriously, I could have eaten ALL of them. All 200 of them. :3 I'm learning so much stuff from my grandma, she's a great cook and hopefully I can pick it up from her.

Aren't you guys--oh no, I wouldn't...be. I absolutely CAN'T STAND all that Chinese New Year songs in the shopping mall, in Malaysia that is. I like singing them on the actual day but hearing them for weeks before the event really annoys me. I think it's just the shopping malls' way to get us in the mood and shop for more clothes but that's fine, they do that on Christmas too. I looove Christmas songs as long as they're not overplayed.

I know I'm not supposed to bring peanuts or anything that is a popular allergen to school but I made sure there were no crumbs and that my friends weren't allergic to peanuts.

HTC Desire Z Review

2010-12-15T14:35:00.003-05:00

I got a new phone! I have been bitching and whining for a smartphone for a year and a half. First it was because I couldn't afford it but once I saved enough, it was a matter of picking the right one. The iPhone looked ugly to me, it was cool at first but it became an eyesore after seeing it EVERYWHERE. The Blackberry was nice but the screen and keypad was too small. I almost got that but thank God I didn't.

Good thing that I found out about HTC at the right time. It was beautiful, it is similar to the iPhone but different at least. The smart thing Google did was sorta combine some ideas from Apple and RIM. It's not like the iPhone, it's one system and one phone design but more like the Blackberry, little variations from each model to suit everyone.

The Android OS system isn't exclusive either, LG, Samsung and other mobile brands have it. So there's even more designs to pick from and you can still buy it from your favorite brand. Anyways, I got a HTC Desire Z. I felt that it was meant to be because of the "Z" in the end. My previous phone was the Z601i, so you can see I'm pretty ~~bias towards~~ supportive of names which relates to me.

It's lovely, my first smartphone ever.

Except that it was so darn dirty. I was dying to buy a cover for weeks but... it'll all be explained in the video at the end of this post.

So anyways, I bought a plastic cover with a gift card I received from signing up with Bell Mobility at The Source. There was a cloth in the package which I--oh, I forgot. I used toothpaste to clean my phone. It was a dumb idea but it was the only mild cleaner that I thought was safe. A facial cleanser is too fliud and it might seep into the motherboard. So I applied toothpaste all over my phone and used tissue to wipe it off THEN I used the cloth to polish it up a bit.

You see? Beautiful, flawless. (Toothpaste works!)

The screen protector have grids to help you measure how much to cut off.

I carefully cut the side and it was a good fit. Keep the cloth at hand because in a few mere seconds, little specks of dust will land on your phone screen.

I peeled the under cover and stuck the screen protector on and then the top one to make it more sensitive to my touch even though you don't have to peel the upper layer off. It could be like a screen protector protector.

I tested it and it works fine. But look! There are air bubbles underneath it, I FAILED. So I scratched it out with my nails and it went away.

I slip the plastic hard cover on and it looks like a totally different phone.

This is how the back looks like. Very nice, very nice indeed.

It's nicer to hold now that's bulkier. Even though it thin, it's pretty heavy so having it slighty bigger makes it easier to hold. It looks really neat to me. I don't use the hardware qwerty keyboard much because I type really slow with that, I'm also trying to get used to the virtual one.

A week ago, I tried to give a review on this phone because it's kinda new and there were probably hundreds of people wondering how it was like. When I wanted a phone, I read and watched as many reviews as I could before getting one but in the end I bought this phone without knowing anything about it (because of a good promoter at The Source). I figured I could help out the interested buyers a little but again, I failed. It was reallyyy long, like five minutes but all I managed to cover was the slide-out keyboard and the camera functions.

Fat-faced

2010-12-14T19:09:00.002-05:00

What has happened to me? I look horrible, I can't even recognize myself in the mirror anymore. It's a nightmare but it's happening and I can't stop it. Omegarrr...

This is just my ~~fail~~ foul skill at liquifying/pinching or editing my pictures. I'm trying to make my face look skinnier but I ended up looking like, well just a little, like Michael Jackson.

This is the actual photo. I'm gonna improve on skinnifying myself. I don't have Photoshop but Photobucket has not bad photo-editing tools. They added a lot of new features and I'm gonna try them all out!

Saday

2010-12-14T18:39:00.005-05:00

Yeah, I don't know how to end a video so I'll just click the big red "Stop" button when my mind goes blank. I should start writing scripts before recording videos, this whole spontaneous/random video thing is boring. Except that I love it, it's kinda like therapy and I'm lying down on a couch blabbering and you guys are the psychiatrists or at most the listeners. I do feel better after talking it out, it won't be on my mind for DAYS.

Webcam Post

2010-12-13T17:02:00.007-05:00

I fell in love with the webcam and I've been wanting to update my blog so ta-daaa, a vlog was made.

Because it was so impromptu, I had no idea what to say and I just came back from school so it was a, "Hm, I should make a video!" sort of thing. I'm just trying to lessen my frustration of procrastinating a blog post. I have so many things I wanna share and write about.

Watching myself in that video makes me uncomfortable, why do I move my eyeballs so much? And why is there a picture underneath the video, a frame from the video which I can't remove?

Barak Obama Look-a-like

2010-12-01T21:49:00.004-05:00

Now that I am in Canada, I think it's about time I blogged about all the past pictures I took in Malaysia FOR this purpose--buh-logging! I miss blogging about what I do, where I go and who I meet. I have about a year's worth (approximately a post every two days) of content now and the only problem is me. It's so time-consuming but at least it's a process that I enjoy.

Anyways, these photos were taken on the 29th of July this year. Not too far, it's just about five months old. So some of you might know that I was a receptionist for a hair academy/salon for a while and I thought that the most amusing part in my working life then was having a cleaner who looked like the president of the United States.

See for yourself. Yes?

Maybe? A little? TOTALLY!

(Click to enlarge)

He was a much talked-about staff. Everyday at 7pm he'd come up to our floor and start sweeping and mopping the floor, then squeakily wipe a dozen mirrors clean with a squeegee. For some reason, all of my colleagues called him "Cartoon", they said his face was comical. I don't like calling people by their nicks (except the nicks that I give them) it feels weird, especially when it doesn't really suit that person. I mean, why would you call the janitor who looks like Barack Obama "Cartoon"?!

Nevertheless, he was a good worker and we all liked him. This is Lex, star-struck and eager to take a picture with the celebrity but nope, Cartoon is just too busy for him. He's got a lot of bills to pass and make 1Malaysia a reality.

And this is me and Lex, oh yeah, I haven't introduced him. He's a stylist in salon and a backstage hairdresser for celebrities too. He's also one of the leaders of the hair ministry in church. Great guy... who would intentionally annoy me. *100 points minused off his awesomeness level*

I don't like this picture of me, I look horrible faking that kawaii pose but I like my hair. It was blown dry or blow dried, I don't know which phrase to use, omg!

Yeah, I hope I can blog my pictures away. What happens when my picasaweb space becomes full? It's already 44% and in no time it'll be HD. Photobucket? But for that website you upload the pictures one by one right? I'll try to find another easier alternative.

Me time

2010-11-23T09:34:00.001-05:00

For the past few times, I've been doing my homework in the middle of the night. I didn't like and my aunt wasn't happy about it either. Well, I had no other way because working in the evening was frustrating. My name would be called several times, my doors would be knocked on a couple of times. I did not appreciate my concentration being broken so many bloody times.

I needed my space. No, I do spend a lot of time with my aunt who is my "mother". She cares and provides for me and loves me, I know that. Sometimes, we spend too much time together? I think she thinks she's not doing enough for me or fears that I need something. All this attention reminded me that I was in a family now. I am no longer alone at home with hours of quietness and without disturbance, people were actually worried about me.

I'm really used to doing my own stuff in my room and not bothered about/by others. So I began to loath the care I was getting rather than appreciate it. My aunt started lecturing me about my work management, she demanded that I learn to "organize my time". No doubt I was a little cross because she was the main reason of me doing this but she didn't know... and it wasn't intentional. Being interrupted during the planned time isn't nice so I would go to sleep early in the night and wake up 4 hours later around midnight to do my homework.

That is how much I value my undisturbed alone time. I'd give up half of my sleep time to enjoy my waking moments with peace. I wish my aunt could understand that. I tried telling her before but I don't want to repeat at the risk of getting the alien treatment.

I don't like having eyebags either you know. I thought that this was the best way rather than telling them to leave me alone when I'm busy doing my homework because I didn't want to hurt their feelings. Them, my family, grandparents, aunt and cousin. I doubt I could keep this up. It's only been the third time and I feel like a zzzombieee.

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Protectionx

2010-11-17T12:48:00.001-05:00

I'm beginning to sound increasingly self-righteous and proud as I continue to complain about the teachers and system of the school. Can you believe a teacher can be so blind as to walk by and stare at a group of students copying my answers and ask, "Need any help?" When they all shake their heads the teacher smiles "Good." and walks away ignoring the piece of paper in the center of the table which is so obviously being copied.

"It's for the marks, it's gonna affect our grades, these are easy marks." The teachers say. Easy indeed, bloody easy.

It seems that they are reluctant to fail a student so that it won't look bad on their teaching profession. They don't care about the students, all they're waiting for is to collect their pension and get the help out of the country and have a fab retirement. Well it's disgusting. the integrity of teachers are nonexistent, they give good marks as they please so they won't get into trouble for not doing their job well enough.

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Peerless

2010-11-16T11:29:00.001-05:00

I'm not desperate to make friends it'll only lead to negative peer pressure. Yup, I'm a loner in school. I find people distracting. I find people problematic. I don't like tolerating.

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Killz0r

2010-11-15T23:21:00.005-05:00

You know what's sad? That I made a wrong judgment on a teacher. On the second or third day of my attendance in math class, I told the teacher, "You're a good teacher" in encouragement because the class was difficult. But now that I've been here for two weeks I can see that she's bringing it all upon herself.

I had my suspicions that she might have been partial to the white students in class. Especially to that boy who used to sit beside me. I'm glad because he requested to change seats or else I would have had to do it. What happened was, he drew a line on my question sheet, it was ink, like he used MY pen and uglified MY question sheet. So I was like, "What the hell?" and so I proceeded to take my highlighter to vandalise his unnecessary piece of paper which he'll never read or understand. But no, he protected that so I stroked some lines on his shirt, a white shirt.

He got so angry that he started to bully me. Unbelievable. So me being the kind Christian that I am tolerated him. I didn't wanna waste my breath giving a piece of my mind to an immature 16-year old anyways. He calls me a dork for being smarter than he is, well, let's see how you fair 10 years from now. I pray that your athletic talent will take you far (sincerely because his ego will strangle him to death).

Oh, racism, yeah. My mathematic teacher probably think that giving them the nice treatment will change the unattentive and unfocused students around. That crosses me because she lets them slow the class down, she lets them chat and laugh which REALLY retard the work progress, so much so that we usually have to stay 5 minutes after school hours to finish up this "Ticket Out The Door" slip just so she can say whatever she forgot to say. This Ticket Out The Door is a slip of paper with a math question or two on it that we have to answer to leave the classroom and go home, since it is our last period.

I take it back. You're not a good teacher, a good person maybe, yes, because you're so kind-hearted to be giving special attention to the slow learners that you neglect the students who are actually paying attention and working hard to earn their credit. IT'S NOT WORKING ISN'T IT?! AND IT HASN'T FOR THE PAST TWO MONTHS. What kind of teacher are you? Can't you be at least fair to the entire class? I don't wanna be judgmental here but I'm sick of sitting quietly in class, trying to concentrate, trying to block out all the noise and watch you let them get away with that behavior.

Calling the principal to speak to the class ONCE does not justify your indifference to the situation. DEAL, WOMAN. Yeah, I'm probably selfish because I wanna get ahead. I'm not really smart, I'm thankful in the beginning stages it was slow enough for me to catch up but to continue in this crawling pace irritates me. You're letting the class rot away. I've considered talking to my guidance teacher about this, I don't know if I can handle university mathematics especially now that it's half of the semester. I'm not gonna overestimate myself, I know that I'm only average.

Seriously, I could have gone faster homeschooling in this subject. Okay, so it's either I confront the teacher or change class. This is gonna be tough.

I suck at confronting.

Right now

2010-11-14T15:03:00.006-05:00

Hi guys!

As it seems, I am now in the land of the happy and health-protected people--Canada! So I used two passports and everything was fine. I'm in school now at the eleventh grade, studying college level mathematics, english, and marketing and ceramics. I'm hoping I can enrol into university english, mathematics and science in my final grade (12th) so I can enter a university. Psychology, theatre, dramatic arts has been rolling about in my mind as the courses to take in my post-secondary education.

Yes, I'm very interested in acting (and singing). I have always loved musicals, it looks really fun and it's not a boring job. I can't live working in the office or a factory, I never wanted to be a lawyer or a doctor, unless I was an animal doctor. Hehehe.

Anyways, school is pretty light, as in it's not as stressful and demanding as the schools in Singapore. I was shocked by how easy the students got it here, it's relaxing and slow. We only take up 4-5 subjects each semester (5 months excluding holidays). In Singapore, we studied like a dozen subjects a week and it was all jammed pack and we were given plenty of homework, which meant we really needed to learn fast.

It's no wonder the kids here are so ungrateful, rude and rebellious to the teachers. They're all about shitty student rights and stuff and they don't do their homework and they're so slow to understand simple questions. I got really annoyed.

I'm already a grade behind and these classmates of mine are slowing me down even more. What's even worse is that they copy from me. I can't say, "No, use your own brains, you're not taking credit for my work." I would definitely become a nerd and a much hated student in school.

The teachers are lenient. Sadly, they can't whip out a cane and smack their bottoms like they do in Malaysia. If the students here were to act this way in a Malaysian highschool, gosh, they'd be in a coma for years. So there's two people in math class who copies me all the time. The chinese girl sitting on the left and the white boy who's sitting right beside me.

I mean, I would love to help but not by letting them copy my answers. That's not helping at all, they'll never learn. I feel like telling that Chinese girl to tell the teacher that if she can't understand what she's saying, rather than taking my paper all the time and happily copy down all the answers which will leave me stuck and I have to catch up on the questions in half the time, then ask the teacher to explain personally to her.

So FLACK, I'm saying NO next time. YEAH, I'm gonna tell her in Mandarin, "NI WEI SHI ME LAI JIA NA DA LU GUO NI BU HUI YIN WEN, NI YAO LAI ZI LI DU SHU NI QU SHUE YIN WIN LA!!! (In a varied sentence in Mandarin it would be 你为什么要来加拿大? 如果你不懂英语，如果你想在这里学习，你学英语啦!!)" Which means, "Why did you come to Canada if you don't know english? You wanted to study here, so learn the language."

Notice I used 'la'? I'm still half-Malaysian and I always will be.

Yeah, as you can see, I'm pissed. I'll tell that white boy who doesn't even bring stationeries to school to ask for a pencil, eraser and a calculator from the Salvation Army or something. ALWAYS, once the teacher begins to teach, he'll ask, "Do you have a pen? I don't have paper. Can I use your scientific calculator?" But he doesn't even do the questions, he just talks in class and laugh and throw my stationeries around like they're his.

WTF?!?!

The only thing he's interested to learn is swear words in Chinese. "Diu ni! Wo hen ni! Ni shi gwai lou. Ta ma da. (He can't pronounce ta ma de or any Chinese words accurately)"
This sucks but it's funny but it's not funny to me.

Ughh, must think of something to stop all of this.

Impor-thing

2010-11-13T20:47:00.002-05:00

I've been told many advices and from what I can conclude from most of it is that you shouldn't tell people everything or else they can do anything to you.

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Highs and lows

2010-11-10T16:29:00.004-05:00

The picture above is a "graph" drawn by my english teacher. He said that every person who moves to a new country will experience this slope. B stands for beginning and E for end. He explained that when you first go to a new country, you're usually optimistic and you have great expectations for the future in the first few weeks. Your happiness level begins to drop when you discover the ugly side of the new place, problems begin to surface and now you're not having such a good time. The point in the middle is when you hit rock bottom, when you feel so low and so down and depressed. But over time things will pick up and you're life will start climbing, that is, if you decide not to return to the country you were in prior to the present one.

Then he asked at what level I was at and I rubbed off the area with my finger and he marked it with a line and wrote "I am here".

"So Zoe, you know where you are and you know that there are more to come."
*nods head*

I agree and disagree with this "new country mood-mometer" I mean, isn't our whole life like a wave? It goes up and down, successes, failures, achievements and setbacks and up and down. So, I guess what he meant was that the feeling was more apparent when we're in a new/unfamiliar environment.

What I believe is we can take control of our environment by the way we react to people. But I've been noticing this awful pattern and I don't know whether it's just human to have conflicts or if it's me. I wonder how I make people feel sometimes because the way they make me feel is frustrated and they really drive me up the wall when they can't understand what they're saying themselves. Wherever I go, I'm always wishing the same thing. I always hope that I could live by myself, on my own without a bother or a speck or irritant in my life.

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A New Month

2010-09-30T15:07:00.000-04:00

Watch out, it's... OCTOBER! October, the month Halloween is celebrated in. October, the month that's close to the word 'octopus' and it has the letters of robot in it. Yes, this very special month October sounds cool as long as it's not Octobieber.

It's 3:20 in the morning, so pardon me. I'm disturbed by many things. One is my fear of dying. I'm scared of dying on the plane or dying before I get to go on the plane. The other things is the immigration, it's only to my aunt and mom's imagination that I might be retained because of my spanking new, beautifully blue Canadian passport. It's gorgeous, I can't stop touching it, the paper quality is great, I love the maple leaf print all over it, I love everything about it except my face in it.

I got carried away, which reminds me, to buy a transparent passport cover. I wouldn't want the navy blue to become faded after a few months like my jeans. They worry that I might be stopped because there's no entry stamp on this passport. I find that worry unwarranted because whenever my passport was renewed, I could still travel to Singapore with no problems. But my mom's trying be smart and is advising that I use my Malaysian passport to leave Malaysia and enter Canada with a Canadian passport.

I have read stories of people travelling with two passports, it's fine even if there isn't any departure stamp to show where you came from, as long as you use the same passport to enter and leave a country.

Now that sounds like a cool idea. The only problem is, Malaysia does not allow dual citizenship. Canada recognizes it but Malaysia does not, it would be a problem to show two passports; one country which allows dual citizenship and another that prohibits.

The only way to be clear on this is to call the Canadian high commission. Gosh, it's lovely there but it takes too much effort to get there. I just wanna pack my stuff for the rest of the week. I'm tired, I wonder how many grammatical mistakes there are in this post. I don't know, I'll proofread it at work later. My last day of being a receptionist at a hair salon is gonna be... I don't know, it isn't significant enough to affect me. It doesn't matter actually. Nonetheless, I'm still grateful for having worked there and gaining some experience.

It's almost four, I'll go now.

For this moment

2010-09-22T03:16:00.007-04:00

Ah, I woke up at noon time and climbed down the stairs to the living room to find roti canai on the table when I asked for french toast from Old Town White Coffee. "Not again," I thought. Ever since my Mom left to India, I had to depend on her messed up, unreliable, Indian boyfriend for my weekly allowances and food. When I asked for a Subway sandwich, he got me a Ramly burger and I asked for curry noodles, he got me some plain noodles flavored with soya sauce. Forgot what it's called, it the noodle they use for pork noodles.

So I'm like f@#$, don't f#$%ing ask me for what I want for breakfast or dinner when you're NOT gonna buy what I told you. Just buy whatever crap food you like and expect me to eat it and complain to my mom when I don't.

Trying to be positive, I told myself that I haven't eaten roti canai in a while and I actually liked the dahl sauce. I dipped some expired brown bread in it too. I slowly walked to the kitchen to throw away the wrap and the plastic bag and then thought about what to do for the rest of the day. Whether I should study or check my Facebook first. I suddenly snapped out of my comatose (because of the energy from my breakfast) and the remembrance of my conversation with my aunt yesterday night made me furious.

I called my dad in the afternoon on Monday to inform him that Mom had already written up the release letter so he was "free" to do what he had to do. Actually, the release letter wasn't even needed because despite my mom having full custody of me, she permitted my dad and I to contact/visit/communicate with each other. However, my dad insisted on a release letter to prevent whatever legal charges that my Mom might use. I was well aware I was between their petty, unfinished business and I was aggravated because it wasn't supposed to be about them.

As adults, you two should act like one. So stop taking pot shots at each other through me and wasting my precious young life. Yes, I know I sound very selfish but time is of the essence, and they have wasted half their lives with each other in marriage and are still bitching about each other after the divorce. I am not gonna let them do the same to me. I will not allow them to waste my life, so it is crucial for me to be away from them. I no longer care about their affairs, a cousin told me before, "Let the adults handle the adult matters." Yes, a very Chinese proverb and Chinese do not listen to the younger ones.

It was good she told me that, for far too long I've cared and advised my Mom. She didn't listen and the things I foretold happened. I'm not saying I'm some prophet, psychic or Feng Shui master, I used my common sense. My mom had too much ego to admit she was wrong and what I told her before was right and I didn't want to rub it in her face with a I-TOLD-YOU-SO attitude because I put myself in her shoes and took into consideration of how she was feeling about the divorce even though she didn't show it.

The only thing I hated was how she always blamed everyone else. Whenever she was on a fault-finding spree, I was tempted to give her a harsh reality check. When I did, she'd go further into denial. I can't be around my mother anymore, it sounds dramatic I know, but I do not want to be like her. Therefore, I can't be with her too often to be influenced by her. She's emotional, illogical and fickle-minded. GAHHH, these qualities makes tolerating her very hard, obviously. Things you'd likely think about from living with such person (you're dependent on) for a long period of time: Kill him/her, call a therapist or buy self-help books for him/her, adoption, suicide, pray for divine intervention.

Alas, I'm being rescued by my aunt. Her unwavering support and encouragement has made me teared because my uncle in Kluang once wanted to help me as well but backed out in the end. If only you knew how serious this was. I know every family has their own problems but I believe some are more critical. I'm really grateful to my aunt for doing all she can to bring me back home.

What made me so angry was that after weeks of hiding it from me, it turned out that my dad could not afford to pay for my ticket. I was like, "WHAT? He hasn't supported a family for so many years, he must have saved a substantial amount." My aunt explained that he was having some minor health problems and treatments in Malaysia were expensive. What health problems exactly? She wouldn't tell me, she told me to ask my dad myself. "He always had an ego, he never admitted he was poor or couldn't afford something. All he kept saying was 'I have made the arrangements, contact your gu-gu'."

The arrangement was my aunt paying first and that he would pay her back when he could. My aunt just started a business, she opened a Japanese restaurant and it's not going that great. I don't want my aunt to pay, I wanted either one of my parents to but since both are claiming they have no money. I'm left with no choice but to empty my bank account.

Haaa. You know when they say "don't spend it all at one place"? WELL, unfortunately for moi, I HAVE TO. I'm thankful that I've saved enough, an exact year's worth of savings from all my temp jobs. God blessed me with a lot of fair-paying work. Oh well, at least it'll save me the hassle of closing my account. I'll just withdraw the whole lump sum and voi la, problem solved.

Had my dad just said so, I would have bought the bloody ticket at the MATTA Fair, the best price I got was RM2896, if I remember correctly. The most hideous price I saw was on British Airways website, it was over ten grand. Now it's all up to me, I've called a travel agency and they said they'd get back to me. It's been 3 hours and I'm anxious. CAN YOU GUYS BE FASTER?! Just type into your little computer, find the best price you can for a one-way ticket and call me back. Simple! Yes, I'm impatient because this is urgent.

I'm searching for removalists now. I don't know which company to trust to ship my stuff over. Grrr, braaah, soo... much planning and packing that needs to be doneeee.

So far, too long

2010-09-18T10:37:00.006-04:00

Hi guys,

I just wanted to update you on my passport application. High commissions and embassies are usually closed on public holidays and sometimes a day before and after them. Which means, it's pretty bloody often in this country. A lot of time was wasted, most of the days being postponed because of my Mom. It took me about 3 weeks to visit the Canadian High Commission, find two references and a guarantor to sign my passport application, snap a passport photograph and collect it and submit the painstaking application.

Finally, last Wednesday, I handed over all the necessary documents to a Canadian diplomat. I actually went there on Tuesday and to Lucy's and my dismay, it was closed because of Hari Raya. Continuing, he interviewed me for about fifteen minutes, asking me why I wanted to have a Canadian passport, why I wanted to go back to Canada and if my parents were Malaysian diplomats in Canada.

I was a little uptight during the interview because my brother screwed me over the phone for having to wait in car "so long" so I asked the officer twice when it would be over. The meeting room is small, only meant for four people at most--two on each side of the transparent divider--with a metal table where you can hand over your documents by dropping it in the middle where a pocket with a slidable metal cover is. I felt watched because it's a bloody government building and there's a camera on the opposite side looking right at me, and I was handing over very personal information. Basically, the room's something like a confession box just with a CCTV aimed at your face.

So he said that my application looked good, all they were gonna do is check up on my parents background and if there were no problems, my passport processing should be done in approximately fifteen working and ready to be collected on October the 6th. Hurray!!

I pray that there will be no delays or complications. What I can do now is... ask for cardboard boxes from a supermarket, list down what I'm gonna pack and ship over to my aunt, give away some stuff, use up as much opened cosmetic containers as possible, call up a travel agent to get the best price to fly to Toronto during mid-October and continue meeting up with friends.

The whole thing might have sounded troublesome, but I'd have done it a dozen times if it would get me back home. It also relieves me that the government doesn't give away citizenship, visas and passports to just anyone. They really check a person's background and validate their identity. I'm just upset it took me so long to get all of this done. Thank God this messy, tedious, time-consuming part is over.

I'm really grateful to the three persons who agreed to help me with my passport application. The ones who disclosed their personal information to me, especially my guarantor, privacy is very important to you. And if I didn't have a guarantor I'd have to pay more and it would have taken more time to declare an oath in lieu of guarantor. Aiya, just know it would have been very troublesome without your help.

So thank you, all of you, and those who wished me well and for the love from people who eagerly wanted to see me and have met up with me.

Pests

2010-09-12T22:51:00.009-04:00

Dear colleague,

After becoming the Head of Assistants, you seem to have gotten more arrogant, thinking the little authority you've been given grants you to do whatever you want. When in fact, it's the same as being a regular assistant. What sickens me is that you don't even do your job and you're messing up mine.

What am I? I'm the receptionist. I answer phone calls, record down appointments, reply e-mails and account sales. I'm the cashier too. So whatever money that is missing I have to make up for it.

It's shocking to see that the moment my ass is off the chair you zoom right in to use the computer.

What is your job? You're supposed to clean surface areas (products, styling stations, chairs), wash people's hair, sweep the floor, blow dry; basically, assist the hairdresser with his/her client.

Do you think you're too good to do those now? You're better than the rest because of your new title? I don't know what's going on in your mind.

I mean, I'm fine with you using the computer occasionally. I understand it gets boring at times, just standing there, staring at the stylist cutting hair, brushing off the freshly cut pieces off the client's shoulders.

But what's pissing me off is how you're affecting my job. You insist on taking the phone calls and recording down appointments when you can hardly spell for your life. The number of times you merely wrote "appointment", with no name or number, and screwed up the spelling of clients' names when you did. You don't get into trouble, I do.

You're only supposed to cover me when I eat lunch or go for toilet breaks. Yet, when I'm sitting RIGHT THERE, you're hovering around, standing next to me, sometimes even pushing me aside. What the hell? When the full-time receptionist is around I don't see you acting like that. Sloppy, lazy and having the guts to brush him aside to enjoy some leisure on the internet. You must think you can step all over me.

The only reason why I didn't complain to the manager is because I want to maintain good working relationships. I don't want things to get awkward. Remember that other time when I told you the manager noticed you were behind the front desk too often and asked me to tell you to let me do the job? You got so pissed and told me you didn't want to "help" me anymore.

Here you are again and again, spoke too soon didn't you? Because of your little indignity, you said you didn't want to be at the front desk anymore. You weren't helping me, you're only trying to escape from your job. So don't pretend to be some hero.

Gosh, you even have the face to let me do your work. I attend to your clients, I make the drinks and serve them while you're happily sitting on my chair face glued to the computer. Yeahs so FML 'cus it's so good to be you. That's supposed to be your job, you're not sharing half of your tips with me are you? Besides, on average you earn three times as much as I do with tips and commission on top of your basic salary.

So what I'm saying is that each of the staff here have their own little benefits. When the salon's business is slow at certain hours, I can surf online for a while. You assistants get generous tips from pleased clients, while the hairdressers are looked up upon as experienced professionals and receive tips too.

So please, stop selfishly taking the best from both jobs. I do not enjoy standing beside you, looking around to make you feel comfortable and guilt-free from doing something you shouldn't be doing. It's pathetic to log into your boyfriend's account secretly to see if he messaged any girls and browsing lifelessly through your friends' photos and videos.

Read a book at the pantry or something, stay out of my area, shizznit.

Losing the weight

2010-09-09T08:15:00.002-04:00

I need to get fit for a few reasons. First and most importantly, my aunt in Canada said I looked "pretty like a princess" from my Facebook photos and I do not want to underwhelm her when I return home. Secondly, I feel like a cow wearing dresses, my self-esteem has taken a dive several hundred meters way below the water surface. I notice my face shape is now round, no longer oval or square.

Ever since last year, I've "let myself go" in a way. I loved food more than my figure, I indulged in chocolate too many times and never worked out to burn the calories. I thought eating would make me happier than wearing nice clothes. Food was my friend who would never let me down.

Now I'm five kilos heavier. I dream of going under the knife every week. A few people have said "oh it's just a few kilos, nothing to worry about" well five-bloody-kilos of pure fat and waist expansion is SOMETHING.

I am not someone who fishes for compliments and it irritates me greatly when the other person says something nice to be polite. Especially after I encouraged them in whatever setbacks or goals they had. At least I showed one of the qualities of a true friend: honesty.

So I'm gonna watch what I eat from this day onwards. By watching what I eat I mean no more junk food, fast food and confectioneries. That should help.

My Sweet Dentist

2010-09-07T02:51:00.010-04:00

I didn't write about my normal life in a long, long time. I still take as much photos as I used to but all I ever do is upload them on Facebook with the intention of blogging about them in the future. So get ready for many backdated posts.

This morning, I went to the dentist(whee!). The last time I remember ever seeing one was in primary school, which means it was... five years ago, oh my gosh, so I was deluding myself that it's been only three years. I began to worry about my teeth after I pierced my tongue because the stud would lie underneath my upper palate (behind my front teeth) which pushed my teeth out a little.

Occasionally my gums would bleed when I brush my teeth and two years ago, I chipped one of my upper molars after chewing on a carrot when it clashed with my loosened tongue stud.

I told my mom about it but she only cared about saving money so finally, I decided to call a dental clinic myself. After searching a little online, I found one: Chan Dental.

Yeahhh, but before I tell you about my experience, I wanna show you my breakfast. I left the house at 10AM, withdrew some money from the bank and then we headed to the dental clinic. While looking at my bank booklet I was happy because I could afford a high end smartphone but was sad that it took me so long to save the amount

My appointment was at 11 but my mom dropped me off 45 minutes early. I recognized the street, there were food stalls on the side, oh the FOOD street. So THIS was where the clinic was located.

I ordered curry noodles with no "si ham" and in return the nice old uncle gave me more tofu. I brought a book just in case I had to wait a long time.

Tadaa, with little slices of pork. It's RM4 for a small bowl and RM4.80 for a big one. I ordered the small one, it was okay. Not very tasty but I'm relieved the uncle didn't scoop the oily surface because I told him I didn't want any spiciness. The kwuay teow was overcooked, very soggy.

I finished the whole thing and anxiously walked up to Chan Dental. I thought to myself, "Oh crap I shouldn't have eaten breakfast. Now the dentist is gonna see all the disgusting tofu in my mouth." The place looked decent(I prepared myself for the worst hence the low expectations), ugly-colored sofas, three-year-old magazines and boring paintings. It was all goood.

This notice was a relief. I was worried that they'd reuse their tools without even rinsing it, I saw my primary school dentist cum nurse do that. *brrrr*

The dentist's assistant called my name wrongly even though I intentionally wrote my name more spaced out than it should be. "Zoe Yve Foo" obviously meant you could just say "Zoe" and there's no Y at the end. See? The dentist was very nice and had a gentle demeanor, I felt safe, nobody would want a rough and lazy dentist who wanted to get the job over and done with.

As she checked my teeth, she said, "Good. Good. Good." Each time she said that my ego expanded, "YEAH I HAVE GOOD TEETH! *smiles widely on the inside*" She said I didn't have any cavities, there were no problems and all she was gonna do is clean my teeth. I don't know what she meant by that. I was surprised too, I was expecting her to say a tooth was rotting or I needed a filling. No problemo at all?!

What felt like a drilling sensation was only a vibrator to force out the tartar in-between my teeth. It got a little uncomfortable when it was near my gums and it bleed but Dr.Chin said it was normal. She was very calm and graceful the entire time. After I gargled some water, she polished my teeth with one of those rotary brushes with a smelly pinkish cream. It was all done in half an hour!

I asked her about my wisdom teeth and she said I didn't have any in my mouth, I had another question in mind but I forgot after she finished explaining what causes cavities. Now I remember, I wanted to tell her I still had a few baby teeth and if I had to manually pull them out. Oh well, maybe I'll pop the question at the next trip to the dentist.

All in all it was RM105. Phew, I only brought RM250.

A disturbing photo of my dentist-scaled-and-polished teeth. I think I need braces.

Three years of silence

2010-08-24T10:27:00.004-04:00

I just called my dad. It was unusual because my parents are divorced and I'm staying with my Mom and I didn't speak to or see him in three years. I was reluctant, very reluctant to contact him. I had no other choice because I needed someone to buy me a air ticket to Canada. My mom's boyfriend went back on his word which made me desperate enough to call my dad.

After six to seven rings he picked up, "Hello, how are you doing, Zoe?" I replied warily, "How do you know my number?" He avoided that question and spoke of an incident that happened last year when he SMS-ed me on my birthday and called but I didn't pick up. Of course, why would I?

I spoke in short sentences, briefly updating him on what was happening to get to the point as quick as possible. I finally asked if he would buy the air ticket for me. "That can be arranged," he said, "When are you leaving?" After explaining a little longer he asked me to ask my mom for a letter of release.

I had no idea what he was talking about. "What has that got to do with anything?" I asked in a very irritated tone. He told me that after they got separated my mom had sole custody of me and without the letter, she might report me as being kidnapped or what not. My mom wouldn't do that but my dad's reason was to "save his own name". Now I'm a little scared of what he might do after my mom does produce that letter. He sounded creepy over the phone. I think he was trying to be cool, talking as if everything was normal.

But I could hear the anger in his voice, he was tolerating my "teenager attitude". I also sensed his disgust after I told him that Mom knew about this (calling him) and asked me to ask him about it (purchasing of air ticket). Funny, things never change, I know you're still the same old Dad yet I don't understand why Aunt would protect you and say you changed for the better. Aunt said you wanted to be a better Dad. Losing your cool after a minute of talking to me proves your temper is still as short as ever.

Canadian High Commission officers please process my passport quickly after I submit it. *clasps hands together*

My Trip The Canadian Embassy

2010-08-20T01:03:00.010-04:00

My visitation to the Canadian Embassy at Tan and Tan was informative and awkward. My mom was rather embarrassing when she tried to make me embarrassed which resulted in making the both us look moronic. We left the house at 10AM yesterday with all of my identification; passport, ID, birth certificate and health care card.

My mom was very fixed on me returning on a visa while I was heeding the suggestion of my aunt that I should switch back my citizenship to get a Canadian passport. Security was moderately tight, they scanned our bags and locked up our cellphones (off) and cameras but they didn't use a metal detector on us, to my disappointment.

The room we went to was merely for paper collection and the lady behind the counter politely told us to go up one floor to the advisory room. I was taken aback by the courtesy by all of the staffs, I was like, "Whoa, they're really friendly and pleasant people." No offence, but you do know that Malaysia was rated as the 3rd rudest country in the WORLD by Reader's Digest. It's safe to say that I haven't seen or met many polite strangers or even sales people in the past nine years of living here.

My mom explained my situation to another lady at the floor above who was an advisor. Mine's a little complicated but I'll tell my "life story" in case you're interested (most people are and they interrogate me like hell). My family immigrated to Malaysia in 2001, holding a Canadian passport to travel to Singapore everyday for studies was troublesome for me. Cocky passport stampers would detain us (an unrelated sibling and me) for no reason, queuing up in the foreigner line at the Singapore Checkpoint was time-consuming so we applied for a Malaysian passport. It took us 4 years to become a PR and another two years to become a citizen, I managed to get a Malaysian passport in 2007 which was unneeded in the end, I already started homeschooling.

That doesn't sound so complicated after all... Oh, the issue was retaining my Malaysian citizenship while getting a Canadian passport because I could no longer switch it back after giving it up. My Mom was so dead on me staying, she said in a supposedly grave tone, "Then in the future you can't stay here anymore, don't think about being Malaysian again." I replied whiningly, "Why would I want to be Malaysian?" I like it here but not enough to want to stay here for the rest of my life. Plus one of the main reasons why I'm leaving is to get away from several cancerous people. Once I'm gone I never want to be back.

I have neither submitted the application nor even taken a passport photo. In conclusion, I won't be leaving on the 23rd, probably a month from now or as soon as I get my Canadian passport which will take at least 15 working days to process.

I'm more worried than excited but happy for what good things might come. Please pray for me.

Save my artistic life

2010-08-18T07:03:00.004-04:00

I'm studying ecology in my science now and I realized... I CAN'T DRAW, OMG.

Click on image to make it larger

I forgot to add the arrows to show the chronological order of the cycle.

I'm leaving on an airplane

2010-08-14T10:16:00.008-04:00

Dear friends,

It saddens me to say that I don't think I'll be able to see you guys much longer. I'll be flying back to Canada in around a month's time because my mom plans to enroll me into a public high school in Toronto and the summer break is ending soon. School will commence on the first week of September. The homeschooling program I'm doing isn't very effective for me so even if I study a year late, it's not as bad as graduating at 20.

The whole day today and yesterday night, I've been in a daze. Staring into space, worrying about what might happen. Will I fit in? Will my class-mates be mean or will I be able find a part-time job? What about my stuff here? And all the promises I've given to my friends...

I owe Yee Ho a Haagen Dazs date, I haven't hosted my best friend, Sje Ting, around K.L. when she and Siying were very kind to me when I visited them in Singapore. The marathon I was supposed to run with Celine in the end of September which she already registered and paid RM50 for me.

I was also planning to sign up for an acting course at KLPac. I guess it won't happen. This morning I freaked when my mom said I would fly on the same day she was going to India, which is the 23rd of this month. "Pack all of your things that you want to bring. You have 10 days."

WTF?!?! I asked all the logical questions like, "What about my visa? Are you gonna courier my stuff? I'm gonna bring my homeschooling books to Canada?" Her replies were crazy. She didn't know about the visa, she told me to give my stuff away and she said I'd be studying in a public school.

Have you lost your mind?!? Like donate 85% of my stuff? No way!

Obviously, we don't have much of a plan. The reason is because this decision was concluded in three days. The first two days, I communicated with my aunt in Canada, I poured my heart out to her about my sadness of living here so she wanted me to go back and stay with her and my grandparents (Dad's side, my mom's parents have both passed on). In e-mail, my aunt said she always knew I'd have difficulty adapting with the culture, she said I didn't belong in Malaysia.

I thought of that before, I felt like a fish out of water sometimes. After hours of fearing for the worst, I tried to be positive about going back to Canada, "Maybe the bouts of melancholy and discomfort will finally go away. I'll finally have a home and be in a [loving] home."

You see, in my entire life, I have moved seven times. 1) I immigrated from Canada to Malaysia, 2) my parents rented an apartment to move out of my grandparent's house in JB, 3) we shifted to a rented semi-D with my uncle and his GF, 4) we moved into a house for our family only, 5)I traveled to KL because my mom was working here and we stayed at an apartment in Subang, 6) we moved to a house in Cheras which is where I'm living now.

[I say seven times because before my mom got to rent an apartment in Subang we stayed at her friend's place for a couple of months while we searched for a suitable place.]

As much as I found it exciting to be always on the move to new places, the novelty eventually wore out and I was left feeling hollow. I felt like I didn't have a home, all of these "holding places" were merely temporary. It wasn't a warm, permanent house filled with pleasant memories where I could come back 20 years later to find it unchanged and still inhabited with happy people. There were times I was alone and very sad.

I don't know what else to say. I'll miss the ones I love and I'll love the ones who'll miss me. I'm glad that I got to meet a handful of bloggers at Midvalley today. A final hi-bye bump and to the rest of my closer friends, I hope I could spend some quality time with you guys. I think I forgot to add that I'm leaving for good, whoops. Yeah, it's not a vacation or a college period, it's like gooood.

I dreamed of this day and it's a little surreal that it's happening all so fast. I pray that my mom isn't kidding with me. Oh gosh if I end up staying here because she changed her mind, I'll go berserk. I'd buy a baseball bat and smash all the electronics in the house. Okay, forget that I said that. I really hope this will be the best for me and and and...

more confirmation in a few more days.

Love,

Zoe

P/S: I want to eat mooncakes and durians before I go.

Zoe Zone = Ground Zero

2010-07-23T10:15:00.000-04:00

There are certain things I’d rather just do myself, certain places I’d enjoy more in solitude. For example, the library, I love libraries and I hate it when I’m trying to study and my companion can’t shut his/her gap. (I never found a study buddy because they all seem to obliviously start conversations every 2 minutes or AFTER two minutes the previous one ended.)

Some people think going to restaurants and the cinemas alone is sad. On the contrary, I’m a lot happier eating and watching movies alone. No, I do have real, like non-imaginary, friends. Here is my share of reasons of why I hate sitting beside some of my “buds” in an auditorium(for any kind of *decent* entertainment).

1) Chitter-chatter

ZOMG, SHUT UP, SHUT UP, SHADDAP, TUPTUPtuptuptup. Don’t tell me about your similar experience to that very ironic/awkward/funny scenario in the movie we are watching. I didn't queue up for half an hour and buy a ticket to listen to your lame stories. LATER maybe?

2) Lasting Laughter

That hilarious accident was 10 seconds ago in the previous scene and now they’ve moved onto the next one and it’s very solemn yet… you’re still hysterical about it. Not only are you ruining the mood, you’re distracting other people from experiencing the emotions the movie was supposed to make them feel. Giggling quietly to yourself would have been a more considerate option.

I’m not bothered by a hideous face so long you don’t spit all over me. I bend forward laughing so hard in my seat but I don’t go punching my neighbor’s stomach. Well, I do slap their shoulders and arms sometimes.

3) Question Asker

The point of a thriller is the mystery and that it’ll slowly unfold till the end where usually everything will be explained, the big bang revelation. The exciting part is discovering new clues and finding out if the character you suspected was the bad guy. You’re such a movie-pooper because you have no common sense that you can’t give intelligent guesses to even the simplest of insinuations. AND YOU ASK ME?!?!?!?! Sometimes I’m blank; I just wanna enjoy the movie. I don’t wanna think about anything, I’m being entertained and you’re disturbing me.

So if after the movie you’re still confused, then you could ask all the questions in the world and see if any one of your friends knows the answer. Just. Not. During. The. Movie.

Oh yeah, we’ll decide what to eat for dinner afterwards. Even though some parts are a little boring, you don’t know what will happen the next second and we could’ve missed something important. So please for the love of film, shut up.

4) Touchy Factor

Hold on a minute… are we on a date? Why are you holding my hand? Gee, did I give the wrong impression when I agreed to watching a movie with you alone? Uh-oh. There was also this other time where I was watching a cute, kiddy, animated movie with an older, male friend and he kept patting my thigh with the back of his hand each time he laughed. I thought it was extremely irritating and very inappropriate.

Oh gosh, the arm rest issue. It’s always a problem, there’s never enough space for two arms. Screw the cinema if that’s their way of convincing us to buy a gold class ticket in order to be comfortable. It’ll encourage piracy and illegal downloading so that the people could comfortably watch in their beds or sofas with a bowl of nachos and cheese.

Yeap, these are the main four factors of what made me go solo to the movos. The other annoyances like the audio going out when I paid 11 bloody ringgit, hooligans making noises, foot odor, BODY odor and loud eaters (close your mouth when you chew, mule) are only occasional.

I’m definitely getting a HD T.V. and a surround sound audio system (after purchasing my dream house) and collecting originals to indulge in the best of both worlds. The truest cinematic experience.

Reducing by reusing and then recycling.

2010-07-11T07:22:00.007-04:00

I don't know if a lot of people know that I'm the nature-loving, animal rights activist sort of person. Just so you know, I am. It upsets me when I see my friends waste water by leaving the water running when they're brushing their teeth or steaming up the bathroom before going into the shower. I hate it when people waste food, litter, bully stray animals, pluck healthy leaves for no reason and a whole lot of other means things horrible humans do.

I try my best to recycle but I haven't found a recycling bin in my neighborhood so what I do is make the most out of what I have by reusing them before throwing them away. Ideally, you should dump them at a recycling center.

This is a cereal box. My mom used to cut the upper right corner diagonally and use it as a paper holder but I already have three of them in my room. I don't want another paper container!

I've been doing my maths recently and I couldn't find any scrap paper to work out the equations. I would definitely NOT use a fresh blank piece of paper and instinctively tore open the box at the side.

*manual mode* Rip open the rest of the glued cardboard and there you have it, scrap paper--from the interior of a cereal box. I thought it'd be a nice canvas to paint or draw as well. :D

This could apply to almost EVERYTHING. Like, like, like... chocolate wrappers.

I could work out two (simple) equations in that space!

Do your part for this wonderful planet. Remove the plugs out of the electric outlets when you're not using it, don't leave your cellphone battery charger charging when you're done, switch off the air-con when you're not in room, etc. All the little things make the biggest of difference if only everyone bothered.

I'd plant a garden if I had a nice backyard. I will, one day, when I'm living in my dream house. All my fruits and vegetables will be organic and all the electrical appliance will operate on solar power. I'll have a part-time nanny, a cat, a dog, a ferret, a ~~part-time~~ husband, all in Toronto.

Turtle hurdles

2010-07-04T09:56:00.005-04:00

Sigh, look at my once beautiful turtle that now looks sickly. Oh the horror, can you see how badly her shell has deteriorated?! I stand helpless. All I do is wash her cage every two days and feed her once or twice a day. I no longer let her run loose in my room or else she'll disappear again and the next time it happens, she's not gonna make it.

After coming back from church yesterday, I was shocked to see her on the bridge. She usually hides underneath it, turtles enjoy being in the water most of the time. I thought she was dead so I started shouting hysterically," LUCY?! LUCY?! LUCY?!" It looked like she vomited and crawled to the top and died. I just cleaned her cage in the morning and it was unusual to see this much excrement.

It all happened after she ran away for a month. Imagine a month without "clean" water (Malaysia's tap water isn't that clean) and food. Lucy's malnutrition definitely took a toll on her shell.

I first noticed it when I brought her to work one day. It was after the 8th of June, which I self-declared it to be Bring Your Pet To Work Day. Jolene, a very sweet church-mate of mine, brought her sugar gliders to my workplace that day. Fine, it doesn't count for her since she wasn't a staff.

It wasn't that bad then. Just a patch of dry shell and a month later, the whole shell looks like it's rotting. What to do?

Victoria told me to give her some sunlight and feed her vegetables. I've relocated her beside my window pane and I've yet to go grocery shopping for some lettuce and tomatoes. Oh please don't die on me Lucy!

I want candy

2010-06-27T04:55:00.008-04:00

For the past hour, all I've been thinking about was... red liquorice. It's driving me crazy! I want red liquorice, I want red liquorice, I want--I WANT IT JUST GIVE IT TO ME NOW! Those bloody, heaven-made twisted treats is a childhood candy of mine. I remember holding a couple of sticks in my hand and happily biting it off centimeter by centimeter.

I'm not sure what brand it was, I was only five or six years old. But God, I loved them. When I immigrated to Malaysia, I looked everywhere for it but to no avail. I, being mature, did not kick up a big fuss about sweets. Nearly a decade later, I'm bratty and sassy and I want those damn licorice spiral sticks.

The one I used to always eat was cherry flavored. After searching up on Google, I found out they had raspberry as well. It must taste delicious!

Source: http://www.licoricecandytwist.com/page/113938202

Red Vines, like Jelly Belly and Gatorade, is a very famous brand in America. Not heard much in Asian countries yet. Strawberry flavored licorice candy.

Source: http://www.bestbuycandy.com/productcart/pc/Sugar-Free-Red-Licorice-Candy-Twists-5oz-Bags-12ct-12p323.htm

Don't they look absolutely enticing? They're polished with beeswax (as stated in Wikipedia), I love all things glossy and chewy. So there's watermelon flavor as well, not surprising, as they're all red in color.

What shocked me was the green apple one. Sour licorice twists? Something I would try but would unlikely like.

Source: http://www.licoricecandytwist.com

Mm-hm. No wonder Americans are obesed. If I lived there, I am confident I would be overweight because of all their unhealthy, delicious goods. Does Langkawi have this? DOES SHE?!

Speaking of red liquorice, my chum Corynn sketched this. She was taking part of a Red Vines drawing competition if I'm not wrong. Gobble, gobble, gobble.

Isn't it pretty?

Nail Prep

2010-06-15T20:10:00.006-04:00

I've been obsessing over nail painting the past month so I'm gonna tell you guys what I usually do. If you have a lot of time and fancy beautifying yourself, polishing your nails can take up to well over an hour. The entire process of buffing, cleaning, moisturizing, painting, designing your nails is painfully or wonderfully long, depending on whether you're vain and enjoy spending hours of your life on the littlest part of your fingers.

To start, get a nail filer and file your nails in one direction. If you slide to the right, then keep moving to the right even if it feels weird. I bought this from The Face Shop for RM3.20 if I remembered correctly. It said it was strawberry-scented BUT THAT'S A LIE. I would have spritz some of the vanilla perfume I bought from Yves Rocher but IT'S BLOODY STRAWBERRY PRINTS. *fumes*

Okay, okay, moving along. As you can see on my index finger, my nails are evenly oval, wait... it looks slightly more rectangular. Whatever shape it is, it's even. So file your nails (in a gentle manner) into the shape your want them to be.

Next, you use a nail buffer. Many people have asked me what a buffer was. A buffer is something that buffs. Not really helpful, am I? Seriously, it's a tool to make something polished. Nails, shoes, watches, you name it. Nail buffers first smoothen surfaces by the abrasive particles attached to it, like how sandpaper smoothens wood but it's gentler and most of the time, the point of buffing your nails is to make them glossy.

I bought this nail buffer from Sasa at a rip-off price of RM12. My mom got something similar for one ringgit. Nei mou gao chor.

On my right hand's ring finger, I have unsightly ridges on one side of it because I bit it frequently when I was younger. Irreparable damage that scarred my nail forever. This is a before and after photo, you can't really see the difference here but it has improved a little.

There are a variety of nail buffers out there, so if you bought the one with only two colors/sticks/sides then it means you're basically gonna buff and shine your nails. If you have the three-four type, after buffing you clean, condition and then polish it.

Ta-daa. The end result.

I gotta run for work now so I'll post picture of the nail colors I use next time. Great morning!

Back into the blogosphere

2010-06-14T19:25:00.003-04:00

Hello all.

Soon, I'll be opening my blog to the public again. I don't want to because I've gotten used to the safe privacy and ease of blogging whatever I like without considering the feelings of others. I decided to unprivatize my blog again because I've got to blog about some events I went for recently. Pretty much compulsory but I don't mind, I really enjoyed myself and I do miss blogging with pictures.

I'll need to manage my time real well. I have to juggle work, church, studies and now my blog. I slept at 11PM yesterday and woke up at 6:30AM, I think that's a fantastic timing. I'll dedicate two to three hours to go online in the morning before I leave for work, work during the day and study at night. I could! *brilliance*

Do you know why I protected my blog in the first place? It was because there were weird Google searches about me. It got me very worried, I wondered who it was and I wondered why they searched me up. It could have possibly been my dad, I haven't seen him in three years and he's likely to be curious of my whereabouts. Most parents these days know their children are internet-savvy.

Whatever it is, I am not comfortable with people Google searching me or my parents reading my blog. The perils of the World Wide Web, aih. Anywho, thanks for reading my blog and all the angsty/emo entries I wrote.

Asia Conference aftermath

2010-06-03T14:40:00.004-04:00

Today, or rather, yesterday night, I attended a cell group meeting. Eight out of ten of us present went for Asia Conference last week in Singapore. We were sharing what we learned, what we received and digested spiritually. An array of international Christian speakers were preaching throughout the week nearly all day long.

I will blog about that another time. What I want to write now is about what I said in the meeting. It's important to me because at first I was clueless about what to say and also I was the fourth person to speak. Each one of us were given two to three minutes to share but many of them went overtime.

Robenz, an Indonesian who aggitates me greatly, was the first chosen by my cell group leader. I wasn't listening, my bad. I can't recap on what he said but the next in line was Ai Lee. She talked about Phil Pringle preaching on prayer and Dr. Yonggi Cho's attitude of love. 'Everyone might say they love each other and hug each other although they bear grudges inside. So our acts of love should go beyond words.' is some where along the lines of what she said.

Chee Meng, the guitarist, sitting beside me talked about... I forgot. Whoopsy daisy. OKAY THE BEST PART OF THE NIGHT, MY TURN! Kidding, I was anxious the whole time. Scripting what to say, forcing myself to think back hard about all that was taught by the anointed leaders. I repeated the words of the previous few who quoted relevant points, desperately hoping it was the word FOR me only to find that I didn't feel strongly about it.

As Chee Meng ended his sharing the Holy Spirit reminded me of the crucial areas in my life that was changed because of the sermons I heard at Asia Conference. I picked two subjects: Prayer and Love.

Both Phil Pringle and Reinhard Bonnke, what the-I mean, pretty much ALL the preachers emphasized on praying. The first point I wrote during Pastor Phil's session was, "The Christian life is not hard. It's impossible." Before the continuation to "It's impossible" I was amazed, thinking he probably thought piety was easy and maybe many of us were in actuality, weak people.

Once he finished that little impactful follow up and paused for two seconds with an astonishing nod to let it sink, I expressed disbelief on face. What? Impossible? What does he mean by that? So we're all doomed for hell? After pondering for another few moments I saw that it was true. Since no one is perfect and GOD's standards in His commandments is of perfection, it is not humanly possible to live the Christian life.

"What is the Christian life?" you might ask. It is loving everyone, forgiving wrongdoing, reading the Bible, paying tithe, giving offering, praying, helping the needy, evangelising, repenting... not forgetting the "normal" things we're not supposed to do. No sex out of wedlock, no drunkenness, no evil thoughts, no drugs, no cussing... nope, none of it.

So what I spoke in front of the other nine church mates was that it made me realize how tough being a Christian is and that I shouldn't judge leaders. Because I always had to point and critisize every mistake of my pastor/helper/cell leader and never gave them some slack to be human. Through that sentence alone I understood their difficulty more. Which made it easier for me to love others, especially fellow sisters and brothers in Christ, people I hold up to in a higher standard rather than to judge and condemn.

I'm writing the first subject second because it's 3 in the morning and I'm incoherent. You know what, I'm... nah, changed my mind. I was gonna say I'm heading to bed and completing this post after I wake up. Since I typed it out already, I might as well.

I know, I know. I'm so indecisive. Fifty percent of my time is wasted on daydreaming and thirty percent is lost to dilemmas while the rest is spent on things I shouldn't be doing. "Time" as in my procrastination period and I procrastinate very, very frequently.

Yelps, eye bags. I regret. I'm sorry. I'll sleep early.

W girl

2010-06-03T14:19:00.004-04:00

I'm beginning to worry about my cynicism. I think a majority of women are whores. I know what's affecting me. It's my mom. My mom being the mistress, my mom committing adultery. My mom and many friends choosing men over me.

Whores.

They yearn for casual compliments of adoration, "You're pretty. You're so cute. I like you." And ditch their friendships for a temporary thrill of romance.

Whores.

Oh not only. It's not just one guy, you flirt with three or as many as you can get. Leading all the swains on, pretending you're genuine and pure when you're in fact, a whore. I don't know... am I the only one here who finds flirting with multiple people degrading?

Am I the only one who finds pre-marital sex wrong? Am I in the minority of people who have values?

I don't hate you for doing what you do. I hate you for hiding. You're a bloody liar. You lie to the boys, you lie to your friends just to keep an image. A reputation huh... What. Reputation. Exactly?

This is really the last straw. I'm so cynical now. I'm so in shock. I so wish that people like you didn't exist.

Twitter Terror

2010-05-31T15:19:00.004-04:00

*sigh* Relationships are tough. Especially online, we have to take extra precaution as to avoid offending the other person. I hate typing smileys, particularly ":)" and ":D" all the time. I have to include it in my SMSes and Messenger and... basically, in all kinds of colloquial online chatting. I'm always more worried about hurting someone's feelings rather than making them pissed. It's different, when you mock someone and when you wound someone in the center of their emotions.

(In my opinion, that is.) A fan Jay Chou can easily be offended when you say he has a face problem or that he's gay. An overweight person will be hurt when you humiliate them by scoffing at how the wooden floor creaks each time he or she takes a step. Well, a few of my friends are offended by how I don't follow them back on Twitter.

There are a few things I have to point out. Firstly, I understand how it feels to follow a friend and not have them follow you back because you begin to wonder," Why aren't they following me? Do they think they're better than me? Or they're just a stuck up and don't want their following numbers to be equivalent to the amount followers they have?" Which leads me to the next point, you shouldn't be reader-minded. Can't we just bloody enjoy the wonderful services of social media?! Why are you so obsessed with your blog traffic or how many followers you have?!

I know how it feels. When I first joined Twitter, I was saddened by the amount of followers I had (which was 5 after 3 days). I announced on Facebook my usership of the ground-breaking micro-blogging technology--Twitter! I was surprised by three of my friends commenting on my status with only their Twitter URL. WTF? Obviously, they only wanted more followers because two of them didn't follow me (neither did I bother to follow any of them). I didn't even put my Twitter link in that status because I'd rather people follow me in their own free-will than for me to sorta "put it out there" and push others to care about what I write.

So it really affects me when people ask me to follow them and reluctantly, for the sake of our friendship, I do. To answer your question of why I wouldn't/don't follow some of my friends, there's a handful of reasons. 1) They hardly tweet, 2) they tweet too much, 3) they chat too much, 4) their tweets are uninteresting, 5) I don't really care about them 'cus we're not really friends anyways, 6) they sync-ed it to Facebook/Google Buzz or 7) I don't like them.

I follow a dozen people who isn't following me but I'm not offended! Sure, half of them are celebrities but the other half are people I communicate with in real life. So I have had several friends unfollow me just because I didn't follow them back. Godiva, are you really gonna determine our friendship by Twitter? I am speechless. What is my explanation to my friends who confront me about not following them on TWITTER?! I DON'T KNOW!! I can't say this to their faces, "YOUR TWEETS ARE BORING! I DIDN'T ASK YOU TO FOLLOW ME, SO LET IT GO! UNFOLLOW ME IF YOU WANT, I JUST DON'T WANNA FOLLOW YOU!" Okay, I'm getting worked up. *long breathing* But I'm not that bad, I do care about their lives. I read their Facebook statuses, must I waste my life reading their lifeless tweets as well?

Don't take me the wrong way. I'm not saying I'm uber awesome or that my tweets are the best entertainment or that I do not spam at all. I'm agitated to be compelled to do something when I've already decided not to. It's a trivial matter and people blow it up like it's the end of the world. So to my friends who unfollowed me, don't hate me, take it as a reminder that you can't always get what you want and you shouldn't lash out when you don't.

This would give me an extra reason not to follow you. I've followed a few followers who've followed me for months without complaining, it encouraged me to believe they were good friends who weren't pushy or petty; hence, a worthy follow. Besides, it's not about popularity, if you whale failures care about numbers and attention so much why don't you go to Youtube or something.

It's five in the morning. I'm going to bed now.

Sentimental mood

2010-05-20T20:06:00.004-04:00

I've been obsessing over a song the past couple of days after hearing it on my friend's play list in the car. It's Hazy by Rosi Golan.

Here's the lyrics with a video of a live performance which sounds just as goooood. A capella usually sounds best on stage, me thinks.

Since I privatized my blog I guess it would be safe to upload a video of myself singing it. I get really shy singing around other people and would often be happy singing out of tune on purpose than showing any real effort in my vocals because I find it embarrassing.

My voice isn't that great anyways. I can't practice in my room because it's not soundproof but I really love singing, well, nearly everyone loves singing. It's a universal language. Music definitely has immense power to unite people because with the right songs, it can heal souls (as sappy as it sounds it's true).

So... I guess I'll get right on to it. Sing it, learn it, record it.

Have a good lovey-dovey day, everybody.

2010-05-14T13:21:00.006-04:00

Oh my Godiva. It's just been... so long. Too long, I think, and it's so scary. The timing of it all and I'm having a struggle to accept what has happened. My family, my long, separated family. What the big fuss is about is actually, my aunt (dad's sister) added me on Facebook last night with a warped out name and I wondered who the hell he or she was but because our mutual friends were my cousins I decided to accept the request and the next thing I know *bam* she's my Gu Gu.

Yeaaah, that's her. If we crossed paths I wouldn't even have thought for ONE MOMENT that we could have known each other-at all. My aunt has gained so much weight, her face has changed. Besides, the last time I saw her was 9 years ago, when I was 8. Yet my memories are still so crystal clear, I remember nearly everything while I lived in Canada.

It's a pity I never learned enough there, to know more about my country and neighborhood. I can only remember buildings and streets but not the names of it. I feel like I've lost a huge part of my identity immigrating here. I feel like my childhood was incomplete, broken or interrupted halfway.

It was all ruined by (with no offence to all of you) Malaysia.

As I looked through the photos my cousin uploaded of my grandparents and other relatives. It was such a weird feeling, it made me very fearful. I was scared to remember them because my father's parents are now so old and my Yeye relies on so many medicine pills and health supplements to get by.

My Mama is the one in the middle, dressed in a maroon winter coat whilst my Yeye is at the far right, wearing gray gloves and a beanie.

I remember how in their old style, Chinese way they took care of me. I remember my Mama peeling the grape skin off because it was too bitter for me and my Yeye whistling through his teeth and showing off his biceps. I remember my Gugu making my brother and I wax and wipe her car clean and shiny.

I remember my Soksok(uncle/dad's brother) giving me candy out of his room which he had jars full of them inside, right in front of his messy bed which was a mattress on the floor. And his beautiful ex-girlfriend who drew me The Little Mermaid in her own cartoon way.

Recounting these memories is very much a relief. I haven't forgotten my past and background, I know where I'm from, I'll never forget my roots. I wish I could fly to Richmond and give all of them the tightest hug I've ever given in my life.

I don't want to lose them before getting to reconnect for the tiniest bit.

I don't like talking about my relatives. It's a sensitive topic to touch on, it's a very quiet and personal part of my life I hope that will be kept private. My family on the other hand, I find them a total joke. A bunch of freaks I'm unfortunately related to.

Gosh. It's so odd how all of this happened. Really, the way everything turned out. What a story.

Nightmares in Zoe's sleep

2010-04-30T05:13:00.001-04:00

*screams*

Yesterday was HORRIBLE. I had this @#%$^&3 flahgrah-eeek dream. I was standing in front of my make up table, which had a half-length mirror. I was in a ragged white dress and my face was scarred. Actually, wounded very deeply and I desperately wanted to peel off the thick scab but I knew it would bleed nonstop. I scratched my face with my nails, not believing it. My face was ruined, it would be scarred for life. I looked down on my arms and they were bloody as well.

I began to remove the scabs off my arms, the bigger wounds on my upper arms. I ignored the smaller ones below my elbow, still in shock of what happened to me. It didn't occur to me it was just a dream despite not feeling any pain. Except that my emotions were so strong, I was so shocked and in denial. I guessed numbness was all part of the process.

Then I woke up. Work, I needed to get ready for work. I completely forgot about the dream till a couple of minutes later when an uneasy feeling sank in. I wrinkled my forehead as I tried to remember what it was about. A dream, a very ugly dream. So disturbing and gross.

P/S: I don't have any Photoshop skills and it took me 45 minutes to draw this on Paint. It's not that realistic I know, but you get a better idea of how my dream looked like.

Inevitable bonding

2010-04-29T02:56:00.005-04:00

I've been here for a month already. I still like my job, it's neither stressful nor exhaustive but I'm beginning to lose my cheerfulness. It's getting harder and harder to wake up in the morning, I like the tiredness because it helps me fall asleep at night. Indeed, I've learned many things while working here, a little on the industry but a whole lot more on the people.

The people, what people? The assistants, hair stylists, bosses and students. It's really interesting, I've known some of them before working here and seeing them in another light is... not fascinating or amusing but it helps me to understand them better. I've only seen them in church and every Christian in church knows how to be proper and solemn. You only catch their wild side outside.

The student is my ministry leader. In church he has authority and commands us what to do but over here, I have more power since I'm the front desk personnel and he's just a student. So you can see the obvious switch in authority, he answers to me and my manager about anything while I need to inform him of anything I do about the ministry.

It's weird in some ways yet very helpful. I have the advantage you see, I can be closer to them and bond with them more easily. No, I'm not manipulating my circumstances though I do think it's a bonus. I am fortunate to be here with all these people and expanding my knowledge about this industry.

I try to be professional. But I just don't cut it. I'm young, lazy and squeaky(noisy). I really want to draw a line between them and my personal life but they're beginning to ask about my blog and for my e-mail address to add me on Facebook. It's not a big deal I know but for some reason unknown to me, I feel uncomfortable. I can't let someone see more than two sides of me. All of us act differently in various different surroundings. I have a church persona, a family persona, a friend persona, a "professional" persona and lastly, my alone persona.

They're great people, well, some of them, and I don't wanna be too close which might ruin everything. I can't click with them anyways, communication barrier of English and Mandarin.

*published on Monday, May 10. 1:10pm

Grah-grah-ooh-AGAGAHHHH!!!

2010-04-17T01:25:00.006-04:00

This is probably confidential and shouldn't be spoken to anyone else but if you don't know me yet, I'm a small-time complainer. You make me pissed and it's very likely I'll rant about it to a handful of people or simply blog about it to vent out my frustrations. Pretty harmless aren't I? Yes, yes, so let's begin.

I'm in a ministry in my church, the hair and make-up ministry. I decided to join a ministry since I've been in CHC for nearly 6 years and wasn't progressing in anyway. I loved cosmetics, every single time I bought a magazine I'd stare for minutes (people usually flip through them after a glance) at the models in advertisements of big brands, noticing every hue of color on their eyes. I started putting on make up at the age of 13, making up was fascinating to me and I wanted to look good in it.

So every time I passed by a pharmacy I would browse through the make-up section, grab leaflets teaching little make up tips and about their products. All of this made me decide to join the make up ministry. Little did I know of all the hurdles to come.

Last August, everyone was saying they urgently needed people to join ministries, especially choir and H&M. Yet when I came in, nothing much happened, no classes or anything for 6 months. I stood in the artiste room awkwardly, my observing period was over and I was supposed to start serving but nothing changed. I wasn't needed after all. Nobody bothered to teach me, I just stood there looking at how they applied foundation and eyeshadow on the female vocalists.

It wouldn't be surprising that my enthusiasm faded, right? I was excited and happy that I finally got myself in a ministry and now that I've landed myself in such a wonderful place, staleness was all I could see. After two months I finally made up someone, I was hesitant and insecure. Despite going for personal make up classes in a beauty academy, I didn't have the confidence to make up someone in front of others. It was pressuring and uncomfortable.

After the third time did I manage to make up a vocalist normally, without any doubtful looks or worried expressions that it was ugly. Our ministry leader changed to another church, leaving us leaderless for awhile and soon another one was assigned and things started to pick up pace. Hair and make up classes finally started to commence. Thus, we began to learn to equip ourselves better with the tools and rules of the beauty industry.

Ever since the ministry recruitment a month ago, we have 4 new members in the team. They're very "passionate" people and it's because of them that I'm one of the group of people accused of not putting enough effort into the ministry. As much as I'd like to say, "Look, there's no point in being eager when there's nothing for me to do." I can't because it's a bloody law that the problem always, ALWAYS lie in the members and never ever in the higher authority figures.

An example would be during the Easter services. We had dozens of people to make up, everything was topsy-turvy. There were a few times I would just sit on the sofa or chair lazing around because the other "passionate" make up artistes were so enthusiastic to tend to the needs of the actors. In my good common sense, you don't need four to five people crowding around ONE person to get the job done.

In that very sensible logic, I was accused of not being helpful. Gee, it's not like there were people who needed assistance and I chose to ignore them. I did make up people and I did serve them when no one else around. All I'm saying is that we don't need five restless little helpers in one room wasting their energy on such petty issues when all that was required was two.

I checked my Gmail an hour ago and read an e-mail written from a senior member in the make up ministry. I don't wanna expose the whole letter but I'll paste (!@#$ paste button not working so I had to type it all) a few relevant sentences to this post.

"Hi All,

... There is a lot of classes but I just saw some of you went for these classes only. We have put effort to teach you guys, why can't you put effort to learn too? We are not even collecting fees from you. It's free but you all still doesn't appreciate it. ..."

Wtf does "these classes only" mean? "These" wasn't referring to anything, you said nothing about it in the entire e-mail and I only missed one class because YOU didn't SMS me a number which I needed to get there. Appreciation. Must I kiss your feet every time I see you to show my appreciation? I thank you and pat your shoulders on how good the class was and yet it's not enough. IT'S NEVER ENOUGH TILL YOU RECEIVE RECOGNITION FOR IT ALL. That's all you care about, the credit, the praise and the applause from the crowd.

So many people people with selfish motives.
Don't give your bullshit speech about how it's all for the glory of God.

Just because I don't act hardworking or seem interested doesn't mean I'm not giving any effort. I put in effort all right, I need to trouble others to drive me to church 3 hours before service, I wake up in the wee hours of the morning for Emerge to reach Sunway Convention Center at 7AM, I bring a big paper bag to church every weekend to hold all of my make up and clothes because I need to stay over my friend's place to attend the class on Sunday afternoon.

You're pretty ignorant to me. I'm just really frustrated that others think I'm goofing around when it's all a waste of time. You wanted members and now that you've got them, you do nothing. We need direction or else we'll be so lost at what to do.

Gosh, I'm so sick of being blamed for something I didn't cause, captain obvious.

Why me?

2010-04-14T08:29:00.006-04:00

I received an SMS from a friend last month asking for money without any clear explanation. It really shocked me and made me worry for a few days over my ex-best friend's welfare. It was written, "Zoey do you mind lending me some cash? I am in a really tight suitation now" [March 18, 2010 5:57PM]

Ignoring her misspelling of my name and situation, I began to wonder what on earth happened and how much she was expecting. It could have possibly been a con, I called her a few days earlier prior to that SMS to see how she was doing. You see, Divya was my primary five best friend and I didn't talk to her for nearly four years. As I was passing through a list of contacts in my cellphone, I saw her name and curiously called her to see if she was still alive.

And she was, happy and inquisitive. I said, "Gosh! You wouldn't believe what happened the past three years, I have SO MUCH to tell you!" Divya stupendously (or stupidly or both) asked me to go over to Singapore for a day just for her and to come back to K.L. afterwards. It really was a dumb appeal but I didn't voice that thought out. "Uh, you do know that Kuala Lumpur is FIVE hours away from Singapore, right? Going there and coming back would consume half the day already. I'll visit you when I go to J.B. for a few days."

I wanted to help her but I didn't have enough credit to reply since her phone number was in Singapore. I called her four days later and she said, "Uhhh.. that was like so long ago? Everything's OK now." I was a little puzzled and she didn't even bother to explain which I felt was a little inconsiderate of her.

I decided to let it go and forget the whole thing. Just as I began to clear my mind off the incident, she SMS-ed me again. "Zoey can lend me 50 or 20 bucks urgently? I having some family issues and i need some cash dear" [April 13th, 2010 7:26PM]

Okay, she misspelled my name the second time. Rather than accusingly blaming her of being my best friend in the fifth grade and still spelling my name wrong, I'm worrying about what the hell she's been up to. Was she kicked out by her parents? Did she run away? Or is she lying to buy some illicit substances?

Seriously, why me? I'm all the way over here in K.L., in another bloody country and you're asking money from me? I would love to help you, really, but don't you have any friends who would take care of you? How am I supposed to pass you the money anyways? Via bank or going all the way to Singapore to pass you SG50 and returning back here?

That SMS has made me anxious and very concerned for my friend. I haven't replied her, I don't know what to do honestly. Does she have food to eat or a place to stay? Oh don't tell me you got pregnant and your parents disowned you. Because it has happened to my ex-classmate before but it was her own doing.

She ran away from home, lived at her boyfriend's house for 4 months, got pregnant, returned home, mother brought her to Thailand to get an abortion, continued having intercourse with her boyfriend, got pregnant again a year later and whoa, congratulations, my ex-classmate is getting married this year!

She retained in high school for an extra year because of the runaway when she was 15. I don't know what happened to her now, she's my age and probably working somewhere or studying privately.

Can you guys feel me? It's so worrisome when a person you were once close to is going through some crazy stuff. I'm so far away and I have no clue on how to help.

Talk of the lounge

2010-04-13T01:12:00.005-04:00

I've been hearing things. The people here are talking about me but not in a bad way. The first week they were discussing my ethnicity. Some silly rumors about me being Indonesian and others inquiring whether I was Korean or Taiwanese. I never, ever thought I looked Korean. This is the 6th or 7th time someone said that.

Today, two female stylists were sitting on a bench to my left while I was working away on my desk; calling people and making appointments. I found out later they were observing me and telling each other about what they thought of me. The long-haired girl called me sweet and gentle while the short-haired girl envied my young age.

Along came my manager who praised me in front of them. My manager said what a big help I was, recruiting so many models and organizing things. I smiled widely, happy and relieved that I did a good job and hoped that I would continue to excel. As I was walking away to the pantry, the long-haired girl told the other stylist again how sweet I looked.

Sweet. I never knew I was sweet. It only hit me hard when I read Vivien's blog one time and thought aloud, "WHAT? ME? I'M NOT SWEET!" Then I began to think about all the nice things I did for the people I loved so innocuously and realized that indeed it was in my nature to be sweet. But instead, I felt stupid. I was naive and was hurt in so many ways. So now I've become selective to who I want to be nice to, not VIPs or celebrities but good people who I feel is worthy of kindness and respect.

I've treated a majority of the people here with dignity because they made me feel accepted and special. As much as I am delighted over this new job and place, I fear that the novelty of my arrival will soon fade and I will be left unwanted and old.

Jamie makes me feel needed and useful (which is a wonderful feeling) and I thank God for the favor He has shown me and the favor from my colleagues. It's a lovely working environment, it's jolly and conducive to creativity and openness.

The only downside of working here is that I don't have much or any time to study at all. It has taken my energy and attention from revising at home. With my church commitments, these two are hoarding my lifestyle. Nevertheless, I enjoy it, I appreciate the knowledge and skill I have attained from it.

It's helping me to discover what I can do and what I could possibly be. Thank You, Father! Seriously, it was only after I fulfilled my building fund (Arise&Build) that all these blessings mysteriously popped up.

I knew that 2010 would be a great year.

Currently

2010-03-30T14:38:00.003-04:00

I've got a new jobbbb. It's not bad, not hard and the salary isn't horrible. I guess it's pretty good if you ask me. I'm a part-time receptionist for a hair academy. It's been two days and I really like it there. I pick up calls, write down appointments, hunt for models, manage the Facebook account, clean my desk, photocopy important notices, switch lights... and many more.

One of my main job is to press the oh-so-important buttons to allow people to come into our premises. Those buttons are what dictates your acceptance. Say, you're a suicide-bomber threatening over the intercom that you want a hair cut and blow up the moment it's done. I can reject your entry and you'll have to think of another place to demolish. Or if I don't like you and you're asking, "HI ZOE, I'M YOUR FRIEND, CAN I HAZ FREE HAIR CUT?"

I would... darn, I wish there was a special button when once it's pushed the ground below you would open up and you'd fall into a secret chamber full of psychotic flamingos.

So yes, I do feel significant. But of course I'm not gonna abuse my authority and I was just kidding about what I said. I enjoy my work and my colleagues are really friendly and nice. It's even to cooler to have two of your church-mates working as hairstylists in the saloon and another one as a student in the academy.

It's convenient for me to go to church for prayer meetings and other stuff. The coolest part is that we're all in the same ministry, yeah, the four of us! Extremely exciting. It's because of them that I feel comfortable and relaxed.

It's funny how I got this job in the first place. I was a model for my church-mate who's learning a hair course. I went there for a cut on Thursday afternoon and highlights on Friday morning. After finishing my hairdo on Friday, the staffs were talking among themselves and as I walked towards them from the washroom I was asked if I wanted to work there.

"What? Really? As what? I'm sorta studying so I can only do part-time."

Both Jamie and William, the manager and art director respectively, started explaining everything; dress code, working hours, job description. I wrote my resume and was instantaneously hired. (That was fast.)

I was really happy, "OMG I'M WORKING FOR (company brand) PART-TIME!!! IT'S GONNA BE SO COOL AND FUN." was what I was thinking. So far so good, no ugliness or awkwardness yet. I am grateful for this job as I'm learning a lot of secretarial duties, being paid fairly and treated very well.

I don't know anything about the politics yet but everyone seems to get along well with one another. I love going to my workplace, it's not something I dread like my homeschooling center. Then again, I used to be enthusiastic about a lot of things till problems brew.

We'll see how things go. Hope I can work till November. $)

Three on one

2010-03-14T22:16:00.009-04:00

I'm wondering what triggered my thanatophobia. It has gone so bad it's affecting my daily life. Why am I afraid of death? Because my entrance to paradise is uncertain, because I don't wanna burn in the pits of eternal punishment, because I wanna live long.

Arguments and confrontations might be contributing to all of this. Every single time you start your little petty fights and lie to the relatives to justify what you did and to fix up your image as a good mother. I hate you for it and I'll have to show it to your face by repeating reality to you which sorta means I'm dishonoring you because I have to shove it in your face while you raise your voice in denial.

You make me so sick.

Yesterday afternoon I went to my grandaunt's house. She started lecturing me about studying, respecting my mother, manners and money. Grandaunt, I seriously doubt you'd still be on my mom's side if you knew what she said about you here. She and her boyfriend has many complaints about you and your strict rules.

Yet in front of you, for the sake of free food and likability (AKA boot licking), she and he laughs and smiles and agrees with every damn thing you say. Now you are siding her to talk about me? I don't exactly blame you because she's fed you with half-truths and one-sided stories.

But what I don't like is that you believe her with no questions asked. You assume it's the !@#$ing truth and chastise my unfiliality and bitterness towards her. Grandaunt, clearly, I can see you're won over by her sobbing, motherly talk. I don't need your approval or your support.

Believe what you want. I cried that day because what you said was wrong, I wasn't repentant or sorry. I know what she did, I know why I am the way I am, I was unfairly judged.

The night before, on Saturday night, I was confronted by Faith. She's my cell group leader and my cell group is W19. She pulled me aside and demanded, "Can you stop being like that?" I was like WTF did I do now?

What happened was that my entire CG members left and I was alone in church with some other church-mates and then I stumbled upon Faith wondering where everyone was and she asked why I was still here. I was talking to a friend when she saw me and so I told her I could just go to Pyramid and meet them up later. So that I wouldn't trouble them to drive all the way back just to get me, and the friend I was talking to said, "Yeah, me, (name) and (name) are going to Pyramid. We can drive you there."

So I thought it was a pretty cool plan and that was when she asked for a moment with me. Faith accused me of being selfish, self-absorbed and rude. Now don't take this the wrong way. I'm not attacking her on my blog, I'm just writing out what happened, what was said and how I feel.

Faith said I was rude to her because I knew we were supposed to fellowship with the rest yet I decided to go off to Pyramid by myself. Also that I was selfish because I always do what I like and show faces when I'm unhappy/bored, I'm self-absorbed because I don't put more effort into knowing the others.

Okay. According to you I need to "fine tune" my character.

Firstly, I decided to go to Pyramid because I was abandoned in church. Gee, how was I abandoned? I walked around talking to/catching up with people while waiting for you guys sitting around in the auditorium and without my knowledge you guys left. I show faces because I can sit in the church hall for up to an hour doing nothing, wishing I had my own car so I could drive the hell away. It's a waste of time dilly-dallying in the same place for a prolonged period.

I don't talk to certain people because there's nothing to talk about. I really wouldn't mind raving on about marshmallows, cotton candy, dark, expensive chocolates and Danish cookies but I doubt they'd be interested. What should I ask them? The typical, boring questions which usually annoys me when other people who approaches me ask?

"How old are you? What course are you doing? Are you Chinese or Australian? Oh interesting, how long have you been in City Harvest Church? Who's Cell Group are you in? What cell group is it? Is she/he a good leader? Are you in a ministry? Do you have any siblings? What do you like to do?"

I want to shove a cork into your mouth and say STFU!!!

I hate the 3-minute chat break before services starts, I hate repeating myself for the thousandth time. Can't you see? I get uncomfortable when I'm forced to socialize. I only want to hang out with people I like. For saying this, I am selfish but does it make me self-absorbed?

We can't naturally get to know one another. Everything is sped up by strongly encouraged friendliness as a Christian. It is this very feigning of interest that I hate. For what? To defend my title as a Christian? To show the world how Christlike I am, loving and friendly.

I understand you discipline me out of love and concern but I need you to understand what made me like this. I can change but the cause needs to be fixed.

I really do want to be jolly and a joy to others. Many of my friends say that I'm too happy most of the time. But how can you expect me to be lovely all the time when my circumstances are killing me?

Weakness

2010-03-14T21:44:00.004-04:00

What a glorious Monday, yes, Monday morning, I need you. Last night was horrible. I went to bed at 1AM but only managed to catch a wink at 4. After three hours of fighting fear, panic attacks and the delusion that I was gonna die again, I fell asleep. It didn't last long, merely minutes or so later I felt a weight on my entire body from the neck down.

I couldn't breathe. Something, an entity or maybe it was just the phantom of my paranoia, tightly smothered me by wrapping around my upper body. Neck, arms, chest, I tried to move but couldn't. I tried to pray but I could hardly speak. I was so afraid, alone in my room, with no one to look at for strength.

Yes, look at, not to. I just need another human being there and my fears would temporarily vanish. I prayed and prayed in my head, muttering, "In Jesus name! In Jesus name! In Jesus name!" Repeating it over and over again till I woke up. My heart was palpitating, I hugged my thin, purple and gray striped blanket given by Malaysia Airlines. It was burning, the area that was tightly embraces, my neck, arms and shoulders were bloody burning.

I knocked on my mom's door gently, staying as close to the door as possible. I didn't know what to say if she really did open the door. "Mom, I'm scared. Can you sleep with me?" Maybe the both of us would have slept on the couch together in the living room. On occasions like this, we put our differences aside. Fear, food, functions are pretty much the only things that make us ignore our friction.

But no, she didn't wake up. I stood there frozen. I would not return to sleep, not a damn option. Continue watching Lost maybe? Stay awake till dawn breaks and collapse on the bed without worry. It's so exhausting fighting this mental battle. I thought my phobia was defeated after several months of peace but I was wrong.

It's been a year and I still leave the lights on when I go to sleep alone. This isn't a kiddy fear of the dark I will outgrow. It's something more serious. My life can't be enjoyed with my sleeping problems. Nytctophobia, insomnia, sleep apnea.
WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?!?!

God, help me, please.

The story of two green runaways

2010-03-11T17:33:00.000-05:00

A little over a month ago, I received two baby turtles and a cage from the owner of Creepy Creatures [location]. I was excited, I NEVER had a turtle before. Only eight hamsters, two rats, five chicks, one rabbit, and two puppies. I know that sounds like a lot in a span of seventeen years but if I told you how quickly some of them died and other stories it'll all make sense.

I thought long and hard for a name for each of them green reptiles. I initially named my Lumix camera Lucy but concluded that life was more important and gave the name to my turtle, not to mention it suited her more. So I renamed my DMC-FX580 to Laura.

My smaller turtle's name is Tanya.

On top: Lucy. Lurking in the water: Tanya.

I treated them well. I would let them crawl around in a wide pail because I don't like animals caged all the time. I changed their water every two days and fed them everyday. I tried to bond with them by talking to them and carrying them in my hands, inculcating their names so they would know their identity.

I told Lucy and Tanya how beautiful they were, the shiny, intricate patterns on their shell and skin. I was fascinated with my new pets.

Inspecting nearly every part of them.

Lucy, the bigger and light green one (below), was always greedy. I fed them four pellets a day, obviously two for each, but Lucy was a fast eater and would gobble down Tanya's share. I was worried for Tanya's nutrition therefore I took Lucy out of the cage and isolated her in a laundry basket.

Little did I know, she somehow climbed out of the laundry basket and crawled away. She was found alive two weeks later. Thank God, I thought she was dead or rotting already.

I let them out into my room to familiarize herself in her surrounding. That was when I learned that they were really good at hiding. (Don't ask me why there's a glove, red marker, papers and tissue lying around on my room floor. It's... complicated.)

They seemed miserable. Lucy and Tanya would spend a lot of time circling their cage inside, scratching the plastic wall and dreaming of freedom. Whenever I picked them up, Lucy, the more aggressive one, would push my fingers away forcefully with her little legs while Tanya was nicer and stayed still most of the time.

Three days ago, I enveloped the two of them in my old, unwanted clothes (they like dark places) so I could wash their cage. It took less than two minutes and when I returned both of them disappeared. I looked for them everywhere and kept calling their names but they weren't in the common hiding places nor did they crawl out to me.

Sigh. I hope I find them again. I don't know why they're so unhappy and tortured, like they're POZ (Prisoner of Zoe).

WELL YOU GUYS CAN FIND YOUR OWN FOOD AND SHELTER! DON'T COME RUNNING BACK TO ME WHEN YOU'RE HUNGRY!!! SINCE YOU TURTLES WANTED TO LEAVE SO BADLY.

Blesseday

2010-03-10T13:28:00.003-05:00

Hullo.

Long time no write. I'm tired, it's 2.30 in the morning and I'm sleeping at Lagoonview for the night. That's because I have to be at Sunway Lagoon at 6AM sharp later. This just might be one of the best things that will happen to me this year and I'm feeling ecstatic.

I auditioned nearly a month ago at Shiroku and a fortnight later, they called me to say that I was selected. I will be one of the cast for a commercial advertising Sunway Lagoon. Praise God! I prayed fairly hard. Which means I didn't really pray about it everyday but whenever I did, I bared my soul.

I know it's nothing to be in a commercial but the thought of it exhilarates me. How it's like to be on camera, what we have to do, how to act convincingly. Not to mention the pay is the best I've ever gotten.

My main concern this year is graduation. Getting glasses, visiting the dentist, and a bloody health check up. Most of which I didn't do for three years. It's frustrating when your parent don't want to fork out money for your health. It's not like I want a Wii or branded clothes, this is something important (more important *cough*).

It doesn't mean that I'm young I'm healthy and won't contract diseases. There are kids out there who have cancer and all sorts of deadly illnesses. I'm not pessimistic, I'm realistic. Oral and a complete body check up is something you must do every year.

I can't believe it. You'd buy a T.V. and a DVD player a day after it breaks down but you refuse me for two years to bring me to the hospital. Very nice and caring.

All I know is when I grow up and you're still alive. I'm not footing the medical bills. I hope you have insurance and EPF, whatever.

Sketching wreck

2010-02-02T02:33:00.004-05:00

On the last week of November, relatives came to visit sisser's family. We were all bored and I wanted to try the charcoal stick. I asked one of the cousins to pose but Gabriel, being talkative and goofy was reluctant and wouldn't stop fidgeting. After minutes of "OI! STOP MOVING LA!", he finally stilled down.

In about ten minutes I finished my piece of tart.

NICE?! I didn't sketch in years, actually, I never really ever sketched. Never got to go for F&N or art classes in high school and I'm really bad at drawing hands, particularly the phalanges. Every single time I talk about phalanges I think of Lisa Kudrow (Phoebe from Friends).

It's awful, I know, and that thorny crown which looks like the one Jesus wore when he was crucified is actually a hair band. He took it off when I took this picture.

Gabriel Ong and Matthew Yap. Little Matt looks stoned!

Gab was whining about how ugly the picture was and said it was his turn to draw me. I am a fair person and allowed him to sketch me. Not in a Titanic way.

Little did I know he was a total jerk in the face.

My Hancock beanie looks way cooler than that ancient Chinese hat.

Auntie loves me, this I know.

2010-02-01T01:35:00.004-05:00

Sooo... just today I went to my homeschooling center's office to order books and the moment I stepped in one of the staff was so delighted to see me. "Hi! I didn't see you for so long. How are you?" Poof, all of a sudden she asked if I liked "all this" while pulling her plastic bracelet on her left wrist and I answered that I did like jewelery.

She went on and on and out of no where she complimented me by saying, "You're so pretty! You really have the... the features ah. Your mom must also be very pretty. Hmm, you have natural beauty! *circles face with index finger*"

I was doubtful. I mean, look at me, wearing a cap, a pink jacket and shorts. Sweaty after walking in the sun, no make up and she's calling me pretty?

I expressed a flattered face but actually I thought she was faking her friendliness way over.

Spontaneously, she started asking me questions on how to be pretty and slim. (I keep calling her she because I DON'T KNOW HER NAME, GOODNESS.) *facepalm*

If I didn't directly change the topic she could have gone on for hours. I told her I had to order the books so she quickly searched her plastic bag on a shelf and handed me a blue bracelet(above). She worriedly asked, "Do you like this? Do you like blue? Do you like this color anot?" My eyes opened wide with surprise, I replied, "Uhh... I do but it's okay. You can have it." It wasn't a bracelet I would buy. I didn't exactly fancy the design but she would not take no for an answer so I thanked her and left.

Before I went upstairs to the administration office she told me to come back down after I've bought the books. She talked and talked and talked. I'll tell you guys what I remembered from what she said/asked. Er... her sister makes jewelery, what my favorite color is(gold), she'll buy biscuits from Pahang for me, where I lived before, she likes my accent, I'm like her niece, if she was obese, she wants me to pray for her to find a husband, something about God and women, my phone number and where I live.

I ignored the last one. Can you believe that? She continuously spoke for 15 minutes, I wish it was a monologue but I had respond to be courteous and besides, she's a nice lady. She desperately asked me to pray for her to get married, she's in her late thirties and I totally said, "Yeah. Okay. I will." I needed to get out of there so I walked out after giving her my cellphone number, praying to God she wouldn't call me every night for a girl chat.

Like that wasn't enough to satisfy her, halfway out the door she rushed the last question, "WAIT, WHERE DO YOU LIVE?!?!" Heck no I wasn't gonna answer that. I waved a nice goodbye, pretending I didn't hear what she said and wiped a sweat off my forehead on the way home.

Phew. The craziness, I wonder if she does that to everyone. Anyways, thank you for the bracelet. I'm sure I can match it with something nice or I could wear it casually. I'll treat this as an unknowing advanced birthday present. God bless your love life. *sprinkles holy water onto head*

Why I Like it Longer

2010-01-24T06:01:00.004-05:00

The beautiful and bold LG Chocolate BL40 has arrived. Bask in it's awesome perfection.

The screen is four inches wide, 21:9 ratio HD panoramic display while the camera is 5 Mega Pixels, auto focus with flash! Connect through Bluetooth, Wi-Fi and the phone's micro USB port. Priced at RM2, 199, it's slimness is also a factor of BL40's classiness.

Why do I like it longer?

Well, because I don't like stubby objects. Like phones, I treat my nails the same way. Occasionally I accessorize them, add extra protection to it's exterior and treasure them till it's old and broken.

Red and black has always been one of my favorite colors. Red is glamorous and striking.

Black is cool yet secretive.

Undoubtedly, both are very popular colors which would explain the excellent color combination of the ultimate smartphone.

Longer nails are prettier and easier to paint or decorate. They definitely stand out more than short nails. The length of LG Chocolate BL40 is unlike any other mobile phones, it will definitely catch the envious eyes of by-passers whether you're talking, texting or surfing.