Grief.

Crooning on my STEREO: Angel by SARAH MCLACHLAN

Perhaps one of the hardest things to grasp is an occasion beyond your control. Yesterday I experienced something called grief.

Great grief. It is almost similar to how you feel when a loved one passes away.

I used to think that grief is overrated. But until I had it crawl into my heart yesterday, that’s when I felt really sad. It is sadder than anything that I have experienced in my sheltered life. It paralyses your ability to reason, to smile, and most importantly, to move on. I think it made me stupid.

Prior to this, I never fully understood the grief that people go through when they get dumped. I used to think and get annoyed with a few people: why on earth do you cry on and on and on and on? Drink and forget your problems!!

Until yesterday, I understood fully that no amount of drinking will ever restore your strength to climb out of that damp bed and leave that tear-soaked pillow alone. You are remotely lucky if you are even able to fall asleep for 10 minutes. I haven’t slept in 2 days.

To find a way around this enemy called grief, I will be upfront with you.

Giovanni, the man whom I loved deeply for two years, has left me for good. And the breakup wasn’t executed in the most conventional method where, boy cheats on girl, girl finds out, boy freaks out, girl leaves him, boy chases her, girl cheats on him, and boy breaks up with her.

Honestly, that would have been much easier for me to deal with.

Mine is a little more complicated, and it ended on a terrifying manner. So terrifying that after I made that dreaded phone call to him from the office, I came back shivering at my desk while I should be excited at a 6 digit deal waving at me from my computer screen. At that point, something inert in me had died and I pretty much knew that my life would change. I was (and am) not my usual self.

Friends knew how much I loved him. Perhaps a little too excessively as with any first love. Like most mortals, I have made mistakes with myself and with him. I fault him when he didn’t do any wrong. And he was aloof when my feelings were hurt. That’s when the equation called ‘love’ went wrong.

I met him in Perugia , when I was serving a study scholarship of 3 months. He was the housemate of my fellow compatriots, and it was love at first sight. Two months later, it was his brother’s birthday. We all went. He was drunk. I fancied him. And it started from there. It was perfect at the beginning because he did all he could to court me. Even when he was financially tight he scraped to take me out, surprised me, lit candles for me, cooked for me and used his savings to buy me a necklace for Xmas which he believed reflected the color of my eyes. No man has ever done that for me. Early on I admitted that I was falling in love with him quite deeply.

He was going to be my first boyfriend. And he called me his girlfriend.

All that happened barely a month before I was due to leave for my home country for good. We had a tearful goodbye where I spent the final night at his place, and did the tragic parting scene where he kissed me goodbye and left. 5 minutes later he came back again to do the unbearable farewell. While I thought we would part forever, he promised that he will wait for me despite the uncertainty. And he did.

And so, we embarked on this dreadful and expensive mode of relationship: Long Distance.

I was fortunate to have generous parents and a job that allowed me to travel. I had opportunities to go to him, to relive those beautiful days when we would just stay close together, watch movies, cook lasagna, eat pizza takeaways, drink and to do all the things that lovers do.

I love the kitchen at his place, he is a marvelous cook, did all the hard work while I just watch MTV Italia waiting to be served. Then the house tortoise would peek into the kitchen door and we had to shove him out again. Even if it is just 3 days or 1 week.. they were simply the happiest moments of my life. From the photos we took, the days with him were always, always sunny.

But these brief moments of love were also the triggers of some the saddest moments of my life. I would move into a mode of depression whenever I had part with him. I usually felt very down, and most people didn’t understand why. And because of that I felt alone. Friends fell out with me because they simply didn't understand.

During those interims of encounters we had a god sent device called Skype. And I remember those tender moments when we spoke till I would gradually fall asleep. The next morning when I would wake up for work with a loving feeling in my heart.

There were also times when we couldn't speak on skype due to the time difference, his text messages were brief and rare. Thats when I felt that I was losing him. I became desperate. And I became angry. And I verbally attacked him on more than occasions.

Gradually things deteriorated. He took a job at a local cafe which was full time. Our phone conversations became rare. And text messages were brief. And I became aggressive, manic and upset.

I made it a habit to threaten to leave him several times in order to get his attention. I never intended it but I was often assured that he would say something that he does not want to end and that he wants to stay with me. I knew i was selfish, but i wanted that assurance. However, who would have known that this habit would eventually be fatal.

I eventually took a job in Munich to be closer to him. I knew things would be better and that we could see each other more often. I thought it would be feasible in the long run. But of course my sacrifices would be to move to a country alone where I have never been to, without knowing the language and to leave my family and friends. But he inspired me that I could take that challenge.

So I moved. Adapted there. Three months into my stay he still had not made plans to come to see me. Family and friends were pressuring me that something was wrong. So, on a night when he did not reply to my messages, I became aggressive, threatening and angry once again. As always he would often assure me that things were ok.

On the 25th of October. I made a trip to Rome to see him on a surprise. And he was happy. So was I. And he told me that he loved me. I believed him and I felt an assured hope that we will be okay together. And he promised he would see me towards the end of November. I was so relieved, contented and most of all, hopeful.

However, on the 11th of November, he wrote to say that he will be going back to his hometown on the week he was supposed to see me. I was hugely disappointed because a promise was made and then broken. It didn't come across as important to him and I, again, turned hugely aggressive. I sent him hurtful text messages throughout the night, and his lack of response only made me more angry. And sad.

Yesterday, I received a text from him that he wanted things to be over. It broke me. So I rang him from the office in every hope that maybe things could be saved. But he wasn't swayed. He told me the actual reason, which, turned my blood cold.

And I can't write it here. I wish I could but i would respect his privacy.

But it was something that broke me. He then went on to say that he couldn't see a future with me and I shouldn't try to come to him. Even if i got a job in italy, he told me he would be somewhere else.

That broke me into pieces.

I was shocked. And if only I could describe the sharp pain across my chest and his sudden motive to get rid of me out of his life, I was shattered. And shocked at the other reason which I could not write here. It was too much for me, I became a wreck and perhaps I could have done something drastic had I not been in the office.

And the sad thing is, we were so happy just the week before. Now it has taken a 180 degree turn and I don't know why. He refused to say that he loves me when he just did a week ago. That very night we spoke for the final time, he made the decision and I was out of his life. Eventhough it was against my will and I did want to try to continue. He didn't buy it and he was intent to break up with me. I also saw him cry for the first time.

He said it would be better for me which was the most common excuse for all breakups. I was, to him, like any other girl. Any other ex. I have joined the alumni.

And i somehow I feel, with that unspoken burden of his, he will go back to a particular American girl.

And the saddest thing is, had we stayed on, we could have made it to our 2 years next week.

I haven't heard from him since. I don't know what to do and I feel lost, shocked and afraid. Absolutely lost and far away from home. I can't write this anymore because it breaks my heart.

He has left me alone to deal with grief. This immense grief that is so painful beyond words. I wish he knew. I hope you will understand too.

VAFUNCULO

Crooning on my STEREO: Universo by CRISTINA DONNA

oh hello. I reckon you read my blog. sometimes

but you see. I am drunk. And I will update my blog in this manner because I am more interesting when i am drunk. It is kinda cool and true. yeah. whatever.

so yeah. some of you may work with me. and some of you may, kinda, know me. oh well, whatever.

so yeah, again. I will tell you about myself. I am 25. I am working in munich. I don't speak good german. but neither do I speak any other languages that well. god knows why I was hired. though i know i am freaking good at what i do.

but i am kinda useless anyway, whatever.

but you see. my boyfriend dumped me. And i became an alcoholic. hold on, I have always been one. So thats why he dumped me. no, i am not hot. i have a big bum and no boob.

thats ok. i was never hot to begin with. then there were many guys who dumped me. so i got used to it. because i think i am kinda too cool for them.

ok. I am drunk. whatever. but you know i am still cool. as in, I wont abandon you and I will prevent you from falling into the darkness. i am a good friend unless you screw me behind my back.

ho ho ho ho.

so is anyone coming with me to the Cologne festival in February? like, seriously.

Good night

Crooning on my STEREO: Warwick Avenue by DUFFY

When your heart stops beating you know you can finally sleep in peace.

WIESN HITS!!!!!

Crooning on my STEREO: Back On The Road by MADCON ft PAPERBOYS

Life is pretty darn odd actually, I think it has a lot to do with what's predestined by the above, though I have absolutely no idea what is the ordain or who is the planner nor why things should be fated in a certain way. So, yeah, a lot of things totally don't make sense like what I have just blabbered and somehow we are programmed to survive.

So now you hear from me. I was thrown out of my comfort zone in the last two months, and what seemed like a carefree lifestyle somewhat turned haywire. Again, I had to say goodbye to the people I love most; my family. That's really tough but I know I would do them proud. I got a credible job solely through the strength of my skills and my CV, which meant there is so much ahead for me and God willing my visa will be ok.

This is the odd part:

Some of you who have known me long enough can testify that I hate MICHAEL SCHUMACHER more than the kitchen rat, and who would have known that I had to make a sudden move to Deutschland- a country I had never previously set foot in.

And who would have also known that I would grow into loving this place. I have dreamt of other places, but certain NOT Germany, but yet I can't help but to feel that I could actually live here. My German is lousy and yet people understood what I meant. Wow, thats totally FATED.

I have made more wonderful friends in a month here than I ever did in 4 years in Britain. Now that's great.

However I have also learnt about reciprocation. There are some people who will do anything for you. They will do anything to win your heart, believing that perhaps you feel the same way too. Their immense faith overwhelms you, and you actually get freaked out.

And there are also some people who will blatantly hurt you and leave you. There are just too many beautiful people around, so they have the right to choose. Frankly I would rather have their sausages cut off.

I thought I had always been acquainted with such, but to experience these two scenarios first hand gave me a clear conscience never to hurt anybody unless they have hurt me. At the end of the day, I often seek shelter with those who have always, loved me.

I should have learnt these things at high school.



Sure thing. OKTOBERFEST is such a great source of education. I could be living some of the best times of my life.

Bis Bald Babyyyyyy!!!

Crooning on my STEREO:


Everything is just totally weird, happening too fast and wow. The visa that took 200 months, the draftingcontract that overran 2 months and the manic packing that took 2.5 days.

Since I am scrambling for precious time, I can only keep this short and sweet.

Here's my new home for now:-




This is totally WEIRD!!!!

Vodka and Tears

Crooning on my STEREO: Baby Mine by BETTE MIDLER

When was the last time you bawled your eyes out?

Firstly, its the long distance trauma which nobody empathizes with the amount of crap I have to endure for the past 2 years.


Bloody hell. Now here's the film which I CANNOT make myself watch because it just makes me bawl and bawl and bawl:


OH MY GOD can someone REMIND ME NEVER TO TAKE VODKA? Surely it makes sense as to why the Russians take it on a daily basis.

You may be surprised to learn that I have FEELINGS too. HUMAN EMOTIONS that is. Surprise Surprise. At this rate, I can CRY till kingdom come. It better NOT KILL ME, dude.

May the good Lord save me.

Celebrity, Get Me Outta Here!!

Crooning on my STEREO: Stop and Stare by ONE REPUBLIC

By now, we have all heard that Malaysians are in the midst of exile from entering Britain sans Visa despite being a Commonwealth compatriot. Now our colonial Motherland is contemplating on making our lives a little EASIER; ie. by making us fill in 20 pages of forms, submitting 10 copies of photographs, queuing up at the very friendly embassy and having to fork out a hefty processing fee in POUNDS for every application. (1 quid = 7 Ringgit Malaysia)

With all my dignity I REFUSE to be treated as a 4th world national.

My heart reaches out to those who have never taken a photo in front of the structural BIG BEN. With the impending Visa rule, they will probably never have the chance to do so. So let's go Paris instead.

You can read my view that was published on a local daily paper here.

But even Paris will not suffice sans Visa. Because if the UK regulation does take effect, there is a likelihood that the entire EU will follow suit. I am just hoping that this is just a shock propaganda to scare the idiots outta the country.

I am not surprised why we are condemned to such immigration torture. There are plenty of IDIOTS (Malaysians, I am embarassed to say) who are overstaying in the UK. In other words, there's a suspected bundle of illegal immigrants from MALAYSIA. There are students who enter Britain with a student visa when they have no intention of coming home, EVER. I know exactly who they are and, oh, how I wish I can report those.

Okay I don't get it. If you bloody hell want WORK in the UK, what the hell are you working as a KITCHEN HAND in Euston? You can be just that in Malaysia. If you can be bloody hell be a waitress, why is it more painful to do just that in Malaysia??

I know, I know. You want a better life.

DOES LIVING IN THE COLD GIVE YOU A BETTER LIFE?? DOES HAVING NO RECOURSE TO PUBLIC FUNDS GIVE YOU A BETTER LIFE?? DOES HIDING FROM IMMIGRATION OFFICIALS GIVE YOU A BETTER LIFE??

Don't be a dumbass. Even if you marry your local butcher in every hope of getting a PR, YOU WILL ALWAYS BE SOCIALLY REGARDED AS A FOREIGNER. Get that? There is no glamour in that. Your mother in law may adore you but your neighbours will be bitching about you.

Then you will say.. well, my children will have a better life in the UK...

YOU CHILDREN WILL NOT THANK YOU FOR THAT. IN FACT, AT ANY POINT OF THEIR LIVES THEY WILL FORGET THEIR ROOTS AND BLARDY HELL BLAME YOU FOR IT.

Some will say, yeah... but Malaysia has no hope, no chance of advancement, blah blah...

This also applies to legal migrants. You are so naive. If you want to work in Banking in HSBC London, there is a HSBC MALAYSIA too. Ok, you don't earn in pounds. So what? If you prove yourself decent they will surely post you on a deserving branch. London will retrench you any minute due to your immigrant status. Taxes? It's dollar for dollar so just admit its the uniform dog-eat-dog in every industry. If you earn 2000 quid in London is equates to RM2000. Figure that out.

If you want to train as an accountant in a 3rd grade London company, there is an abundance of local firms in KL. Why crowd in a foreign land? It is only logical to think that if you can find jobs in your country, you really do not need to be abroad. You may lust over caucasian boys but please don't be such an anglophile.

A Tip: The best employees start rough back home because they are humble. Trust me, I know.

There is some exception if you are a true and certified specialist in a niche market, ie. the fine arts. Let's face it, there is NO PROFESSIONAL ARTS industry in Malaysia. By all means I encourage you to RUN far away. But if your ambitions only stretches up to film production work then don't fret because there is still a healthy industry in M'sia itself, albeit a racist one. You will live even if you stayed.

MALAYSIA IS NOT A WAR TORN COUNTRY. YES, WE HAVE AN ACTIVE AND SCANDALOUS POLITICAL FRONT. SO WHAT? We need some editorial excitement now and then. I bet you enjoyed reading them too.

WERE YOU STARVING IN MALAYSIA??

Unless you are on Atkins, no one is really deprived of food. Then come home. You really don't need to be there.

25

Crooning on my STEREO: Puede Ser by AMAIA MONTERO y EL CANTO DEL LOCO

Although I am itching, itching, itching to.... I have TRIED to refrain from bitching about anyone on this blog till, ermmm, August.

But I can't help it. Because by good old August I would have lost all that bitch inspiration. That would have defeated my fundamental principle of being honest, eh?
---------------------

So here's the story. Sometime ago, at a friend's birthday party, I met a Malaysian Z-list "actress" with a fancy caucasian name and surname. (That was a pseudonym. I later found out that her real name was plain 'Farah,' an equivalent to 'Jane' by western standards)

This scrawny fool tripped over and introduced herself, 'Oh HELLO, I don't know your name but my name is ABC.'

And so I had a rather intelligent conversation with her: (my innermost thoughts are in brackets.)

ABC: Ohhhh, Hello I am an actress.
(she didn't look like one. To be honest)

Me: Oh me too! I WAS an actress. (note the past tense)

ABC: Yeahhh I am can't wait to go to RADA* this October for my MASTERS in Acting!!!
(* RADA is a performing arts institute in Reading, UK- not exactly the best but decent enough for aspiring actresses who can afford the fees.)

Me: Congrats! Good on ya!
(thinks: OMG, so many dumb people are admitted into Masters these days. Unbelievable. Another point to note is that talented actresses don't ACTUALLY do a Masters. They try to get professional jobs..)

ABC: Yeahhh so I guess you studied in UK before eh?? Whats Reading like?? the nightlife??

Me: Reading is very COOL. I know people who get pissed on fancy bars every night there.
(thinks: hahahahahahahaha )

ABC: OMG GOD... REAAAAAAALLLLYYYY???? I am sooooo gonna get my own flat and BRING BOYS HOME!!!

Me: Hell, yeah!!!
(thinks: such a dumbass. *rolls eyes*)

ABC: You know... the thing about my looks is that I only appeal to Americans and Europeans!!! I mean, I can't get good jobs in Malaysia but I know I will succeed abroad!! I once did a program for a Dutch producer*... blah, blah, blah...
(* I later found out that this "Dutch" producer is commissioned by our very own RTM to source cheap local talents for shoestring projects. Not exactly an achievement to brag about.)

Me: Yeah I guess every territorial market has their own set of appeal...
(thinks: but I know you will never fit into any because your nostrils are too big.)

ABC: Sooo you know any agents in London???

Me: Of course I do. What type? Do you have a showreel? And a black n white headshot without make up?
(thinks: any working "actress" should know these bloody kindergarten prerequisites. DOH.)

ABC looks at me blankly.

And I never gave her my agents' contacts.

You can check out ABC's one and only "head shot" HERE. She is the one with the flashy caucasian fake name and a standard overdone metallic make up. Believe me, just like most M'sian talents, she looks nothing like that in flesh.

One piece of advice: You can get away with that sort of extreme makeover in Malaysia, but international talent agencies will blatantly ask you to scrape all that foundation off.

But by then she would be too hideous to score any big jobs. Ooops.

---------------------

Another reason why I am in such a great mood to bitch is that:

ESPANA ARE NOW EUROPEAN CHAMPIONS!!!!!

You would recognize this towel flag on my gate from two World Cups ago. Yes, I waited THAT long.

And we got what we want because we bloody hell FOUGHT for it....

BRING ON 25!!!!!

Causes that Matter

Crooning on my STEREO: Puede Ser by LA OREJA DE VAN GOGH

I am feeling a little panicky because I have a little less than 1.5 months left till work hits me on the head and I have to stress about paperwork, packing and literally pissing. The past 4 sabbatical months (I know, I KEEP taking sabbaticals..) has nailed some sense into the real world. My renewed interest in the cosmos taught me simple LOGIC.

What is interesting is that there is only a small handful of educated people who possess such, and the ones who apply logic everyday are those who never made it to college. This is so awesome.

So let me drill some LOGIC into you: Instead of paying extortionately high prices for theatre tickets (price includes a bonus telling-off from Joe Hasham if, on a rare occasion, you forget to switch off your mobile!!) I urge you to support something else arty which is way less patty, snobbish and high ended.



KELAB SENI FILEM is a club for film lovers, it screens mostly non-commercial titles that you will not normally see at your local cinema. A few months back I met the club's chairperson, Tuck Cheong, an amazing film buff who is humble, approachable and truly knowledgeable. The same goes to the club's committee who are a bunch of very nice people. They have no qualms; they are willing to acquaint with you and will never chase you away even if you don't have an inkling who Rosellini is.

(This is contrary to what we may encounter in the local theatre scene: There are some stage actors who claim that their aloofness is the result of their overwhelming passion for ART. I reason that as self flagellation. )

Time for some fresh air? Click on the link above!

Trust me, if you can sit through 2 hours of No Country For Old Men I can pretty much guarantee that you can sit through almost every film regardless of its genre. Niche, Foreign, Arty, you name it. Come to the theatrette at Help College every Monday!

Second drill of logic today is

Yes. I know we are all so caught up with that nonsensical GLOBAL WARMING IS UPON US- GO GREEN nonsense, but I think it is highly imperative that we should pay attention to nature that is close to us rather than to ring up bombastic plans to save the world. Leave those to the wealthy corporates.

Somewhat I am very convinced that those apocalyptic messages on climate change is a commercial farce anyway, so we might as well rescue the neighborhood dog and cat who would be extremely thankful to you.

I URGE YOU. I AM ON MY KNEES TO BEG YOU TO PLEASE PLEASE SHOW YOUR SUPPORT TO THE CHARITIES BELOW.


WEBSITE

and


WEBSITE

Why? Because I can testify that every little contribution goes a LONG way. IKANO has been hosting a fundraising and adoption drive for these animal shelters since two weeks back, and the coming final week (June 20th -22nd). E-mail or call me for more info!

I have been volunteering since last week and will do so this weekend. I will be eternally grateful if you can drop by and buy a car sticker. Even better if you can bring a pup and a kitten home. You will have a true friend for life.

(Perhaps as a consequence you may even lose faith in humanity because you realize that pups do not have the ability to back stab you. I guess that negativity is plausible because we are surrounded by so many dumb people anyway, hohoho)

Hence don't waste your money on the lame canvas bags and Peter's book!

and even if you prefer to..

do they really thank YOU?

Think LOGIC.

The Politics of Clubbing

Crooning on my STEREO: Lullaby by THE CURE

Clubbing was so fun in the past. When I was in London, Malaga, Perugia, or wherever. My definition of having a good time was holding a random drink in the hand, followed by downing deadly cheap shots and passing out thereafter. Dancing, of course, was so fun. Even star jumps was so cool. Vomiting along the streets was not illegal; passing motorists empathized that it was an attractively vulgar thing to do after 5 a.m. You make friends at the kebab shop.

When I returned to good ol' Kuala Lumpur back in late 2005, I was so keen to continue the simple tradition above. To celebrate my homecoming, I had a big fat birthday party at Velvet Underground - a rather costly club that limits their table reservations. My dear parents "lobbied" to get me a membership and an extensive guest list, hence this club became my weekly haunt ever since.

Obviously, I broke my legacy. It was no longer about innocent drinking till the cows came home and running into your neighborhood butcher.


Velvet is an interesting place. My weekly attendance taught me some important lessons about people. I soon created a loyal drinking circle of a few friends and had our little usual table at the "seemingly cool" lounge area. As the weeks went by, our circle expanded.

Let me categorize the type of people you should look out for next Saturday.

1) Long-Lost High School Friends
It is always interesting to reunite with old faces. Even those who never spoke to you back then. But what is more interesting is that despite leaving school in Year 2000, some of these people are still tight buddies with the old bunch they hung out with in the school corridors. Peter is still dating Jane. Jane is still cheating on Peter with John. John is still best friends with Susan. Susan is still hating Kathy. Kathy is still bitching about Susan to Lilly... etc.

2) Plastics
Normally they comprise of several groups of skinny girls who dress very well, holding on to designer clutches. (btw: it is a fashion faux pas to use expensive bags at clubs - cigarette burns are not reversible.) They tend to float around the pre-lounge area in packs of 3 or 4, and they drift from table to table making and greeting friends. They get free alcohol in return. They never say anything intelligent.

3) Hangers-On
They are usually acquaintances whom you don't really know, but yet you see them in your vicinity almost every week. You also see them helping themselves to your alco bottle. Let's just say when the bill for the Chivas comes, they disappear to the dance floor.

4) Networkers
Can be in the guise of Plastics and Hangers-on, except that they make an extreme effort to get to know you. Often starts with a question, 'What do you work as?' and if you impress them they take your number down at the end of the night. They are usually guys who drink a lot, shout into your ear and occasionally flashes a fancy mobile phone.

5) The "IDOL"
Kids with extremely wealthy and famous parents. Despite their real penniless state (their dad funds their clothes and cars) they have masses of friends and networkers worshipping the ground they walk on. However, the "Idol" is also an elusive character who perceives himself as a level above all, hence he isn't exactly the most friendly person you will come across. He will stick together with the other daddy's children of the same status to assert an aura of exclusivity. He normally leaves the club before 2 a.m. He sometimes wears a suit that can be easily confused with the floor manager's.

6) The Social Butterfly
A person with 1000 Facebook contacts, sees you at a club, pecks you left and right and asks HOW ARE YOU? Before you could answer, he/she has moved on to repeat the same sequence to your friend standing next to you. He/she seems to know EVERYBODY but you would see him/her walking to the car park alone at 3a.m.

7) The Sugar Daddy
Usually has a prime table with couches facing the dance floor. He is the odd man in his 50s surrounded by a flank of children in their 20s. Opens a Moet. Has sweaty arm pits.

8) The Lookers
They usually gather around a table next to the DJ Console that is commonly mistaken (or deluded) as a VIP section. These are a bunch of Eurasian or Caucasian men and women who are disgustingly tall and beautiful. They hardly drink. And just for your info, they are out-of-work catwalk models stranded in KL.

Interesting, huh? Let me know if you can spot them this weekend. In case you are wondering if I have any qualms writing this, well, it is okay to make enemies now since it will be Hasta La Vista!!!!!