I think I’m a vocal person. Words tend to just fly out of my mouth.

Yet when I’m quiet, people around me know something is wrong.

I lost count of the number of people who asked me if I was ok.

I lost count of the number of people who told me to sleep more.

I lost count of the number of people who said I look stressed.

I lost count of the number of people who asked why I looked so sad.

It’s funny…

After so long (that’s subjective) of feeling whole,

I feel like I’m broken again…

Into pieces that I don’t think I can put back.

What have I done
I wish I could run
Away from this ship going under
Just trying to help
Hurt everyone else
Now I feel the weight of the world is
On my shoulders

What can you do
when your good isn’t good enough
And all that you touch tumbles down
My best intentions keep
making a mess of things
I just want to fix it somehow
But how many times will it take
How many times will it take for me
To get it right
To get it right

Can I start again
With my faith shaken
I can’t go back and undo this
I just have to stay
And face my mistakes
But if I get stronger and wiser
I’ll get through this

What can you do
when your good isn’t good enough
And all that you touch tumbles down
My best intentions keep making a mess of things
I just want to fix it somehow
But how many times will it take
But how many times will it take for me
To get it right

So I throw up my fist
throw a punch in the air
And accept the truth
that sometimes life isn’t fair
I sent out wish, I sent up a prayer
Then finally someone will see how much I care

What can you do when your good isn’t good enough
And all that you
touch tumbles down
Oh my best intentions keep making a mess of things

I just want to fix it somehow
But how many times will it take
How many times will it take
To get it right
To get it right

My thesis is finally binded after one year of submitting it to the university. It cost me a hefty RM80 per copy and I had to do six copies because FOUR were for the university (I initially thought 3) and I had to bear all the cost!

Hmmmph.

When I got there, the staff told me “Oh what a coincidence. They just arrived YESTERDAY.”

Of which I was very sceptical but that’s beside the point.

My point is this;

She handed me a copy to look at and left for a couple minutes. As I held and laid my eyes on it for the very first time, I said “wow” outloud.

Wow not because I think I’m so great but wow because of how similar it looked like to a book.

Wow because I felt it was worth the money I spent.  *chuckle*

Look, it has my name on the side too!

Wow because exactly one year ago I was told that I might not make it to graduation in time.

Wow because exactly two years ago I cried tears of disappointment for not being able to graduate.

Wow because this thesis is the epitome of my blood, sweat and tears. Blood from papercuts, sweat from lugging all those books to and from the libray and tears from…well I already explained that many times in this blog.

Wow because I can finally close this chapter of my life.

As many of you (especially people who know me personally) are aware, I have been working as a journalist aka reporter with the Borneo Post.

My first day on the job, I wanted to quit. The second day I planned to quit at the end of the week. Eventually I was determined to finish a month and at least get paid so that I could have some spending money for a while.

When I finished my first month (and got paid), the plan was to quit before my probationary period ended because I could give 24 hours notice during that time.

Why you ask? Well, I am a person who values some structure in her life and I’m sure you know that there are not set hours when it comes to being a reporter. On the first day, I was assigned to cover a function with another reporter until 9.30pm. I have to say, I was not a happy camper back then.

Some days I started work at 2pm, other days I have to be at a place at 8am while the night before I worked until 11pm.

Eventually I received a letter notifying me that the probational 3 month period was over and even though I was not given a raise (I was promised a raise after probation during my interview), I stayed. I was in no hurry to leave. That was December last year.

Although there were a couple of times that certain people in the office pissed me off to no conceivable end, I held on. I was as patient as I could be, even though the temptation to walk out of the office forever kept nudging at me.

I have to honestly say that one of the two things that made me stay were a few people in the office. These people made the office fun and the thought of leaving them for no logical reason seemed to be unfathomable. I actually looked forward to going into the office. We had even more fun out of the office.

This past year or so (2009 and part of 2008) was one of the the years that I wish to forget, but it has made such an impact on me that it’s hard to erase it from my memory. The hurt, disappointment, anger, and devastation was just undescribable. Ironically, some of my thoughts can be read here, here and here. Oh and more here and here.

I became quite a sceptic. It was hard to trust people and let my guard down. As days passed in the office, I realised that I had quite a lot in common with some of them. As cliche as it sounds, “time heals all wounds” found its way through the wall I have made around me.

These people accepted me, understood me (to a certain extent, because frankly I can be WAY too weird sometimes) and let me into their lives without any ulterior motives (or so it feels that way. See, I’m still a sceptic at times).

Most of all, I felt comfortable with them. I was comfortable to be who I really am with these people. It was like a breathing a breath of fresh air (yes, cliche again I know) as compared to some issues I went through.

The other thing that I enjoy was the writing. I truly enjoyed writing stories/ reports/ articles as stressful as it could be at times.

I knew I always loved writing but the past 7 months have shown me what I could really do with writing. I was amazed at how I could come up with a story in a matter of hours and read by thousands of people the next day. I felt accomplished, I felt contented.

The job has also opened my eyes and given me the experience of meeting so many different people from all walks of life.

When I do street polls, I have to go up to total strangers and asked if they want to be interview. Many times they are reluctant because their pictures and name will have to be published so I would have to convince them in a way. I think the thing that I have gained the most from working as a reporter is knowing no shame.

Yes, that’s right. I now know no shame.

I think the best experience was the trip to Thailand. Although I’ve been there before, it was a totally different experience. The press were put up in really posh hotels, hotels that I know I would never stay in and paid for myself because the rate was simply too expensive. I would have never eaten all that good food, the gormet meals.

Now I have left this job, the experience and the people whom I have grown so fond of that has made a mark in my life. People whom I can call friends.

I am thankful to have met these people and relieved that I have gotten an opportunity of a lifetime to write for a newspaper.

On my very last few minutes in the office, I left MY mark by pranking a few people.

I was so happy. (Photo credit to Georgette Tan.)

From the bottom of my heart, I thank each and everyone of you for making a good start out of 2010. You know who you are!

P/S: Most importantly, the one person who has been supportive, understanding and accepted me throughout my hardships is Rob. I love you honey and thank you for always being there for me.

This year I felt betrayal
This year I felt devastation
This year I felt desperation
This year I felt depression
This year I found new friendships
This year I drifted from some
This year I rekindled an old friendship
This year I graduated with a Master Degree
This year I started working full-time
This year I got my first front-page article
This year I am able to help financially at home
This year I found myself lost (oxymoron I know)
This year I found my way back
This year I learned again that ignorance is bliss
This year I felt what true determination was
This year I realised I’m not a quitter after all
This year I am more in love than I have ever been

This year…

I’ve changed…

In times of hardships and frustrations, I’ve begun to really appreciate the wonders of music in helping me get through it.

I have spent many hours sitting in my room, analysing every single detail of every single speck of my life when things go wrong. I usually have the radio on and once in a while, lyrics from a song would catch my attention and give me some form of clarity.

One of my favourite is “Walking Away” by Craig David. I’ve always liked songs by Craig David. It’s quite an old song, I know, but the lyrics just caught my attention right away a few months ago when I heard it on the radio again after so long.

Part of the song goes like this:

Sometimes some people get me wrong
When its something I’ve said or done
Sometimes you feel there is no fun
Thats why you turn and run

But now I truly realise
Some people dont wanna compromise
Well I saw them with my own eyes spreading those lies
And well I don’t wanna live my life too many sleepless nights

I’m walking away from the troubles in my life
I’m walking away oh to find a better day
I’m walking away from the troubles in my life
I’m walking away oh to find a better day
I’m walking away

I found the music video on Youtube so take a listen if you’re interested.

Anyway, other songs that I find inspirational (for the lack of other terms) include:

1. If today was your last day – Nickleback (my currrent most favourite)
2. Let it be – The Beatles
3. The show – Lenka
4. I don’t want to be – Gavin DeGraw
5. More than anyone – Gavin DeGraw
6. Chariot – Gavin DeGraw
7. More to life  – Stacie Orrico
8. Dare you to move – Switchfoot
9. The climb – Miley Cyrus (yes, Hannah Montana. Lame, I know)

Yesterday I made agar agar (gelatinous type dessert). While I was scooping the boiling hot substance into their individual cups/moulds, I poured too hard down one of the cups/moulds and it splattered on my stomach, right below the bellybutton which was totally exposed. The top I was wearing was hanging ABOVE the bellybutton and my shorts sat an inch or so below the bellybutton. I swear it’s almost like I had set it up for myself.

Yes, it hurt like hell and certainly did not tickle. As I looked down and flapped my hands close to my stomach, thinking the breeze would help (don’t ask me why, it was warm in the kitchen anyway) cool off the area, I noticed a layer of transparent agar agar on my skin. So what did I do? I used my thumb and rubbed it off.

Only I was wrong, very fucking wrong. (Excuse the French)

HOLY MOTHER WTF KNNCCB WTF WTF WTF that hurt like hell!

It wasn’t a layer of splattered agar-agar, IT WAS MY EFFING BLISTERING SKIN THAT I RUBBED OFF!

%@^@%$!!#!hADHA^!FFFFFFFFFFFF!!!$@#6666!#$#%!%

(Now before you say or think the obvious, allow me to say a few things first, perhaps it could be what you’re thinking.

1. What the hell was I thinking?!?!?!?
2. I mean, okay, the liquid splattered on my bare skin but which part of my effing brain ANALysed that once the BOILING agar agar hit my skin, it would straight away harden into a layer of agar agar?!?!?!
3. Why didn’t I run COLD WATER on my skin?!?!?!?!
4. I am not exactly stupid (but I do have my moments and this sure as hell was one of them) but WTF was I thinking??????

Okay, I’m done saying what I needed to so back to the story.)

I was in pain, still flapping my hands. It was only then that logic kicked in and I’m suppose to cool down the area with cold water. And so I did. Once again, I realised how stupid challenged I am. Instead of using a wet wash cloth, I used my hands.

Yes dear readers, I cupped my hand, gathered water and then splashed cold water on my burning skin. Oh it gets better. I didn’t just do it once, I did it multiple times, say 3-4 times, before I realised how stupid that idea was.

Suddenly, within a blink of an eye (I am serious), my eyes diverted to a bottle of red colouring on the shelf.

“Oooo! I can make my agar agar pink!”.

Bear in mind, I was still pain from the burn and I was wet from my GREAT idea of cooling the wound down.

So what did I do? I poured the slimy goo of agar agar back into the pot and dropped some red colouring into it and voila, it became pink! Somehow the few minutes (or seconds) I was pinking (TM) the agar agar I forgot about the pain and burning feeling of my open wound.

The things I do for pink stuff. 

Only after 10 or so minutes I was burned did I go put aloe gel on it, which I applied very generously consistently over the next few hours, which I later FELT was a big mistake. 

By dinner time, I changed to go out for dinner but still remembered to put aloe gel on my burn. See, I know how to take care of myself!

BIG EFFING MISTAKE.

Half way eating dinner, something didn’t feel right. 

The aloe gel dried out and my denim skirt (big mistake to wear that, oh Shin when will you learn??) was glued to my burn.  

By the time I got home I had no choice but the slowly and painfully seperate my blistering skin from my denim skirt.

The result is this…

It’s a form of pink, right?

Before you judge me, I normally would remove any unsightly body hair before posting pictures of my skin up but can you blame me for NOT wanting to pluck out hair (which is another major OUCH!) around BURNT area!

The culprit of sorts

See the pink agar agar matches my pink nail polish!

Anyway, other pink things from the last 24 hours.

With Pinkie on the pink bed

I bought a piece of anti-slip mat for my car. The ones I have in my car now are black and old so I figured I could spruce up my car a bit. Again, it really matches my nail polish.

My best buy is definitely this pink pair of shoes.

Now I can say I have a pair of Crocs!

The colour is called “Cotton Candy”. So cute right?

Bought it at a very good deal and didn’t burn (pun intended) a hole in my pocket.

P/S  I know this is a bimbotic post but I’m usually not that bimbotic. 

As many of you already know, I graduated last month. The ceremony was LONGGGGGGG. I got to the university about 7am and the ceremony didn’t start til like 8.30 or so because we were waiting for VIPs. Speech after speech later, the ceremony ended at 12.30pm! It was a crazy hot day and I was sweating like pig underneath the pink(!) gown.

I’ve been asked how it feels to be graduated a couple times and I seriously don’t know how to answer that question. I’m at a loss for words to describe the feeling but it’s not because of happiness. I suppose the journey of reaching the finish line wasn’t what I expected it to be and so it took away from the excitement and happiness, I think? I don’t know. I haven’t quite figured it all out yet. If you follow my blog, you would have somewhat of an idea.

Anyway, I shall let the pictures complete the post.

Yours truly on the big screen

My mom took this pictures as I walked out of the hall

With the parents

Soupy my good friend and hubby came by bearing gifts!

With my favourite Soupy

Somewhere in campus

Library behind us

The picture above is dedicated to Soupy. (Hi!!!! *waves*) I’m actually holding a pink stuffed toy octopus, a gift from Soupy. She gave  it to me simply because it’s PINK. I’ve named the pink octopus Rosie because, well it’s pink, AND the name of the person who gave it to me is Rose.

With dirty Leo

This was taken after getting dolled up for studio pictures

For now, I’m not going to post up the pictures I had taken at the studio. I personally think that they Photoshop the pictures too much to the extent that I look plastic but it’s not that bad I suppose because it was pretty cheap. Hehe

Gifts

The one person I had wished to be there is Rob, because he has helped me so much with my Postgraduate debacle but I guess we can’t always get what we want in life. Either way, I couldn’t have done it without out you baby.

And now, I continue my job hunt!

I’m sure you’re wondering now that if I so miss and enjoy writing why am I not updating my blog more often? Frankly, I have nothing interesting to blog about. My life now is mundane. The most exciting thing that happens to me each day is talking with Rob during the afternoons.

I am not a great writer. It takes a lot of talent to write something that everyone can understand and relate to. I have much to learn. The reason for writing this memoir is simple. Everyone has a story and I want to tell mine, since I have the time now anyway. I hope to write something that can touch lives, even if it’s just one.

A lot of this memoir will come from this blog since I have shared many experiences of my life on here. I’m not sure if I will ever finish it but then again how can anyone ever finish writing the story of their life? I have a few ideas on how to start and I just need to bounce those ideas around before I officially start.

I don’t expect to get it published or anything like that. It’s just something I want to do for myself.  I can’t promise I will finish it but I keep having this intense desire to start writing one lately. I’m not too sure whether I will share it with the world (as in, in this blog) though. I suppose I need to be very confident with what I write to feel comfortable enough to publish it on the blog. We shall see.

Happy Merdeka everyone!

Alas, I will be graduating on Saturday…

I found out last week and when I saw the email with the subject of “Konvokesyen 2009″ my heart stopped for a few seconds and then it started to beat faster and faster as I read through the contents of the email. I couldn’t believe it. In fact, I still sit here and wonder if this is all a dream and that at any given time I will wake up and it would have all been my mind playing tricks on me.

This is a short version of my experience…

In December 2005, I signed up for a Masters Degree while Rob was here visiting. After he left, it took me quite a while to get off my ass and started my research. It was supposed to be a 2 year ordeal program and I was scheduled to graduate by 2008. In the span of a couple years, I have re-written and edited draft after draft of my six-chapter thesis.

The process goes like this. I finish a chapter, email it to my supervisor. He then takes about a month or sometimes up to 3 months to read and then email me his feedback on what edits/corrections to be made while I worked on the subsequent chapter. Initially it was a challenge I enjoyed. I secretly enjoyed the fact that I was acquiring all this knowledge about my area of study even though sometimes it didn’t fit in my thesis.

I learned about things from Marxism to Chinese history, from theories of dialectic materialism to revisionism, read texts written from the 18th and 19th century and many more. All this would not have been possible had I not taken up this Masters Degree.

In 2008, I was denied graduation  because the process was lengthy and required more time. I now assume that my supervisor thought I wasn’t ready to bring my thesis to a panel that would accept it and let me graduate. I was devastated. Nonetheless, 2008 turned into a good year when I was able to spend 5 and a half weeks with Rob.

He knew I was sad about not graduating and so he suggested I go over for summer during July-August. I knew that he wanted to get me away from being at home around graduation time (which is always in August). For that, I am thankful. The entire time I was there with him, I didn’t think much about graduation. I wholeheartedly had one of the best 5 and a half weeks of my life there.

I came back home with renewed determination, hope and faith. I was refreshed and I knew I was going to finish what I started. I worked hard because I was determined to graduate in August 2009.

Fast forward to the last couple months…

Even though I had personal issues to deal with, I still managed to keep myself focused. I was in constant contact with my thesis supervisor and he assured me over and over again that I would make it to graduation this year. I, on the other hand, was sceptical at first but after so much assurance from him, I was sure I was going to graduate this year. I would cordially say I am graduating this year when family and/or friends enquire about my studies.

Anyway, after 4 drafts on each chapter later, I submitted my final draft for evaluation in early June as instructed by my supervisor. In fact, my supervisor mentioned that he was going to push the university to publish my thesis as a book.

My jaw dropped when he brought this up to me. ME? An author of a book? Crazy, isn’t it? I was ecstatic(!) yet somehow didn’t think to announce it to the world because I’ve begun my journey down cynicism and wondered if it would ever happen. Nonetheless, Rob and I had fun with the whole author thing as he commented that if the book sold great (not that it would) I would be his sugarmama.

Meanwhile, because of bureaucracy and incompetence, my thesis was not read by any of the examiners until a week later. My supervisor literally had to jump in and personally forwarded my thesis to both internal and external examiners for evaluation.

Two weeks later, I gotten my evaluation. Both passed me BUT the external examiner me requested that I added parts here and there to make the thesis more comprehensive. The internal examiner was more critical on my referencing style and requested that I cite my sources more frequently. I understand that to a certain extent. What pissed me off was that after every paragraph he drew a line and wrote “Source?” on it. Now my gripe was (and still is), “Does he expect a source after EVERY sentence?” You know what, I don’t think I should get into that now. It would make this an even longer post.

Once again, I met up with my supervisor and showed him the evaluation I got from the examiners. He then proceeded to tell me that since there was THAT much to clean up and edit, I should consider the fact that I won’t make it to graduation this year. Apparently he didn’t expect this magnitude of a feedback. I then asked “If I get this done in a week, what are the odds of graduating?” He answered “I can’t promise anything. You can try but I can’t promise anything. Don’t kill yourself over it. Just take your time and do what you need to.”  To which I just said “I don’t care if I don’t graduate anymore. I want to get this done and over with. I want to get on with my life.”

At that point I was so angry and I channelled it into more determination. I wanted to finish the damn thesis within a week, submit it for final evaluation and get it out of my life once and for all. For a week I slept an average of 4-5 hours every night and worked really hard on it. To my amazement I really did finish all the necessary edits in 6 days. I submitted what I hoped would be my FINAL copy and waited.

I had no expectations. During the 6 days I worked on it, I pretty much had the thought of not graduating implanted in my head. I dealt with it, albeit not so well, but I did. I braved myself to face the many people who had expected me to graduate this year and started hinting the news of not graduating.

To my surprise I will be graduating this coming Saturday as I mentioned earlier.  The first person I told was Rob and later that day I told my parents.  Aside from them, I didn’t tell anyone about it until a few days later. I was scared that someone was going to call me up and said it was all a mistake on their part, that the email was not intended for me. That goes to show just how much of an impact the journey of writing this thesis had on me.

I don’t know if I can blame entirely the university for this but it really has not been the experience I hoped it to be. From denying my right to JUST apply for a scholarship to rude staff, from incompetence and lack of research material, I pretty much backhanded the university when I did a survey conducted by the Ministry of Higher Education.

This has been a long journey, with much blood, sweat and tears. Mostly a lot of tears, to be completely honest.

I am relieved that I will be graduating but I am indifferent about it. I don’t really feel like celebrating, mainly because I am still in fear, fearing that it will all come crashing down again. It feels like a defeated victory. Mostly I am just glad for the people who are happy for me because they deserve it.

“What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger” is true but how does one define “stronger” in this sense? Am I stronger now? Yes, to a certain extent. I am stronger in the sense that I am more cynical.  That is the strength that I have acquired from taking on this degree. Even though I am looking at the graduation gown hanging on my door, I am still questioning whether this is really happening? I still have my doubts and I am questioning my faith in some things.

Perhaps ten years from now I will look back and smile and think about what a great challenge this was and how it affected my life.

For now, I am done with school. I want to get on with my life.