Still Being Random

For as long as I can remember, there is one thing I have ever wanted to do, and do well. And that is to write.

Someone simple-minded might say - "You can write." To which I will only reply - "If that is what you believe, then you have never read."

At one point in my life, I contemplated writing for a living. And I'm sure many friends in my circle of friends have thought the same at one point in their lives as well. However, my father being the practical man that he is questioned my dream then because no money would come out of it. How would I be able to maintain my life? He had a point. If I had stood my ground, I might have ended up in a job I might have begun to hate while earning pittance. That might not be so bad if I had never wanted anything in my life. But looking at my current lifestyle, I'm glad I never took up writing as a livelihood.

Having said all that, I still would like to write. I did once dream of writing a novel but my attention problem would never have let me finish the novel. I once started something in longhand (is there such a word?) but after I reached the end of the second exam pad, my attention waned and I moved on.

I've written many short stories and planned (and outlined) even more. Yet, they all remain in the library of my mind, doomed to collect dust there until such a time that I might pull them out again.

The problem I have is that, when I was a child, I read adult books. I finished the entire Hardy Boys collection (at that time) by the time I was 11. Then I jumped to books like Jane Eyre, Gone With The Wind, Wuthering Heights, anything by Edgar Allen Poe and such books. Of course, I also discovered Mills & Boons, from which I learnt many odd phrases and many weird things people do when they're in love and denying it. I also discovered Barbara Cartland and wanted to be like the ladies in her books. They were not as helpless as Nancy Drew, really.

The other part of the problem was that when I got to young adulthood, I began to read teen fiction. So I was doing things in reverse. People have wondered how I could read so fast. When you've gone from Gone With The WInd to some teen fiction, the reading gets way easier. That, and this speed reading session I took once. Also, the only thing that could hold my attention long enough was a book.

I read so much and so fast that it felt really wasteful to buy a book. Anything thin would be devoured within half a day and anything thick was completed within a few days. So, it was with great relief (on my parents' part) that I got a membership card to the British Council library. I borrowed three books each time and returned them well before the due date of two weeks.

I guess all this influenced my writing style. When I started to write short stories later, I got a lot of help from my English lecturer in college. She guided me through a lot of bumpiness. She was the first person to tell me about choppy storylines and cliche plots. She taught me to write draft after draft after draft after draft. She was also the one who told me to write a story then leave it until I'd almost forgotten then go back and read it like it was for the first time. And if I didn't understand or couldn't picture what I wrote then I had to rewrite or edit it. I once wrote a 2000-word paper for her without research and with only a few editing. The facts were already in my head and I had started writing the story in my head from the moment she gave us the assignment. It took me three days to write it. I'm not sure if it was good or bad that she never returned it to me. She gave me an A and tried to get me to go one level higher - script-writing. I did it for one term, wrote a script, took part in Drama classes and then discovered I'd rather direct and produce than act. That script was also submitted to her and never returned. That's when I also read Death of a Salesman inside and out, cover to cover. That book is a wonderful example of script writing.

But my love is still in story writing. I don't write like it's a movie or a TV show. If I wanted that, I'd write scripts. I write a little like Leslie Charteris - lots of descriptions, explanations and just some dialogue. Teen fiction and romance require lots of dialogue. Adult fiction have just enough to enhance the story. I would love to write like Leslie Charteris. His Simon Templar is so witty, charming and absolutely divine.

So I'm not saying my writing style is bad. I'm saying it's my style and influenced by what I read at an early age. Despite my love for romance books, I can't write romance. It's too tedious. I show romance by behaving it, not just writing it. It rather explains why I don't write love letters. My romance sound whiny to me. Imagine how it sounds to others.

While I can sometimes come up with the most appealing phrases, I get a little shaky at world-building. I can picture but I cannot seem to describe it. Yet, while I know I'm not the worst, I also know I have got a lot to learn. Some people get deflated when their stories require too much editing. I'm not that arrogant. However, too much editing allows my mind to wander. Before you know it, what started out as a murder mystery ends up being a fantasy with a pinch of romance and just a teeny dash of horror.

Maybe I should just stick to short stories. And I get a lot of my inspirations - amazingly - form my students. They say the oddest things which make the oddest connections in my mind. So if I get bizarre suddenly, you know why.

But I love reading Leslie Charteris books. Books by British authors surpasses those by American authors in leaps and bounds and vocabulary and wit.

I sigh and I wish and wish...

Sometimes in the course of teaching my students, I come across topics or thoughts that make me wonder as well.

As a teacher, I try to help my students do and be good while being realistic enough to make them aware of the world they live in. Other than topics of homosexuality, they also asked me how I knew I loved my husband enough to marry him.

This has always been something that was on my mind the months before I got married. I'm realistic enough to realise that I didn't want to marry someone just because he was there or he liked me or even just because. I needed to know I felt strongly enough for him that I was able to go through any and all situations and still be with him and not walk away like I always do.

Quite honestly, I was not even sure if he loved me. I suppose by his actions, it showed he did. But, what man today can be taken on his word alone? Or I really am more cynical than I thought I was.

Before anyone pops an eye, I am sure he knows all this about me already. I've done lots of soul-searching and confronting myself since he's been away and I've realised many things about myself and him.

As undecided as I was about love and where I stood with it, I married him because I knew I can spend the rest of my life waking up next to him every morning. In fact, I was very sure I could spend my days and nights with him. Yet a part of me still questioned my own feelings.

So, getting back to my students, I gave them an answer which blew their minds. I told them that I didn't know whether I loved my husband or even how I knew I loved my husband. I couldn't even explain what love was.

But, in actual fact, I do know. Now. I didn't know then if I loved him enough to work through all our problems but I was stubborn enough to be sure I would work through it. I just wasn't sure if the determination was born from intense love or just plain stubborness.

To be fair, I knew I love him. Just not whether I was in love with him.

Since he's been away though, many things have happened. All my insecurities and jealousies have risen to the surface. Nobody fully understands my dilemma because nobody actually has sat down with me to try and understand the conflict within myself and with him.

For one, I know I am the jealous type. I hate being so. Therefore, I hate myself when I get jealous. So combine two intense emotions like hate and jealousy and you have one very conflicting soul.

A lot of times, I need assurance. I need someone to tell me I am right to be jealous. If he were here, he would do it. But he wasn't. And the only assurance I got was from my 15-year-old sister, which, although I valued, was not enough because my sisters are known for their unconditional loyalty.

As it was, I struggled with all those emotions to a point that I was contemplating divorce and all such dire things. Hey, I always have a solution ready to any problem. I figured if we couldn't work past this bit, I was not willing to face anymore and I was going to cut my losses. At the same time, I wasn't going to go down alone so I was also very sure I was going to tell the world my story. Every newspaper was going to know what had happened to me and everyone in Malaysia and beyond was going to know why I was divorced. When I go down, I go down screaming and kicking.

Luckily, I married a person who not only is more patient than I give him credit for, but he also loves me more than I sometimes think I deserve. After much talking and reassuring, I realised I had nothing to fear. Whatever that girl was planning or thought she could gain from him, didn't work on him because 1) she screwed up by not knowing him well enough and 2) he got fed up with her childishness. So even as friends, he figured she was a lost cause and too stupid to value something as simple as friendship.

But after all that, I realised there was a whole lot more to what I felt for him. I realise now that I love him enough not to just want him in my life forever, but also to fight for and with him, if I had to. I realised that something I read once is very true.

I once read that if you love someone, you love him as a child, an equal and a mother. The child is that you want him to protect and take care of him, the equal is when you want to listen and cherish him and the mother is when you want to take care of him so that he is never hurt or disappointed. There's a whole lot more to that thought but that's about all I could remember of it. But now I realise it is true. Sometimes, I mother him, sometimes I want to be protected by him and sometimes I want him to value my opinions.

And the fact that we are this way with each other assures me more than any words ever said that we do love each other. I am in love with him. I miss him the most every weekend because that is when I have time to realise I am alone in my room. I value him more now because he is away more than he is here. And because I value him more, I also don't take him for granted as much.

I also realise that no matter how much time I spend with him when he was or is around, it doesn't make missing him any less. All my efforts to spend little time with him before he went off to Bintulu last year in the hopes I won't miss him as much was also pretty much useless since I miss him anyway.

And as much as I love my friends and family, they cannot make up for his lack of presence. And although we really don't have very much in common, we make up for it with our weird sense of dark humour and pragmatism.

We do argue and sometimes we get annoyed with each other. Sometimes I hang up the phone after barely five minutes either because I'm in a bad mood or he is. But I realise it is part of a relationship. I'd be worried if he always tries to keep the peace. I'd be pissed if I always had to be the one to keep the peace. A peaceful relationship is about as bad as one where both parties are always fighting. It means one of them is trying too hard to not be themself.

But, my point is all this is just way too complicated for my students. So what I do is I give them the bare bones of the ups and downs and then I tell them they have to work out the rest themselves. But what I do tell them is that they cannot hide all their lives. They need to live to know. And by 'live' I mean they need to dare to take risks, even if it is as stupid as saying 'hi' to the cute guy or girl sitting alone in the corner.

Afer all, you never know what you've missed until you've tried it.

Albert Einstein once defined insanity as doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.

Even if we don't regard it completely as insanity, a lot of times we still realise the futility of it. Yet, why do we do it?

Why do we choose to give people the benefit of the doubt despite knowing full well that they will make the same mistakes again?

Why do we still go help our friends and/or family members who seem to refuse to listen to our advice?

Why do we still listen to friends and/or family members who will tell us the same sob story over and over again?

Why do we still tolerate colleagues who choose to make the same silly mistakes despite us trying to help them? Why do we even keep trying to help them?

Sometimes it comes down to one thing. We humans are born with the sense that hope springs eternal. No matter how many times we are hurt, no matter how many times we regret, no matter how wary we are, there will always be that someone or some event that make us think "Maybe this time, it will be different."

Yet, the reality of it is that it is seldom different. It will be the same old shit coming to hit you in the face just when you've let your guard down.

Having said that, to be fair, sometimes, just sometimes, you are lucky enough to come across that one person or one event that is different.

At that moment, you can pick yourself up, brush off all the dust and dirt and feel good about being alive. And right then, you decide life isn't so bad. It can be full of crap but you just need to look beyond the shit and find the good out there.

If you're lucky.

I think I'm ready for a change. Or maybe it's Shook's child talking. And no, contrary to anyone's belief, I am not using the child as a convenient excuse. Although you do have to admit that I am acting rather strange a lot nowadays.

I have been angry and in despair and depressed the last few weeks. But yesterday, after wallowing half the day, I got angry at myself for being stupid and sad. So I drank some Milo, took a 5-minute nap and when I woke up, I was fine.

And, incredibly, I got very chatty. I didn't feel like talking to my students or anyone though. I wanted to talk to Shook. So, despite being very sleepy still, I called him as soon as I got home. I bothered him for a good half an hour then took another nap.

It didn't do me any good because I was still sleepy when I went for my Toastmasters meeting. Then sometime during the meeting, a quote about anger was mentioned. Suddenly, a light went off in my head. I realised completely then how foolish I had been.

I believe things happen for a reason. I got angry with Shook and that girl because I was feeling inadequate and insecure. So, instead of facing myself, I took it out on them. Which is so wrong. I trust Shook so why did I keep punishing him? The fact that I realised that in the day and was reinforced in the evening strenghtened my convictions that I had done the right thing. I had no cause for worry. I also knew that even if Shook strayed (which he's had 8 years of chances of doing) it would be me he'll come back to at the end of the day. And that, above all else, is what I want.

And I figured that he has a very good female friend in KL so why shouldn't he need one in Bintulu where everyone else around him is young and juvenile? After all, I have close male friends too. So, since he's allowed me my male friends, I can afford to allow him his female friends. But, if they get too close, I will still pound the living daylights and their future generations out of them. I'm pregnant and hormonal. I have the right.

So, after all that, I'm no longer angry or depressed. I love him more than ever and I miss him enough to want to go see him any weekend from now. I trust him and hopefully, one day I can explain to him why I have such difficulty trusting people and why I keep expecting them to hurt me (which a lot of times, they never fail to fulfill my expectations).

But for now, I'm going to concentrate on myself, the baby and Shook. Not always in that order. I desperately need him because he keeps me calm and not nauseous. And we talked about the girl last night and now I feel for her. (See? I'm very amiable! This is very much the baby's fault. I'm not usually so amiable.) Anyway, the girl has problems of her own and she tells Shook and some he tells me. At least the work related ones. But if she has any problems about any kind of feelings for Shook, I don't care either anymore. She's Roman Catholic, she goes for confession and they believe in Hell! 'Nuff said!

But, on the whole, I'm better now. And I think I may have become a better person as well. At least, I hope I have.

The granduncle I mentioned earlier passed away two days ago. He was suffering from lung cancer.

I went to the house after work. Luckily, it was after the funeral was over. It's not I didn't want to go. The part of me that was brought up properly was willing to go. I'm just not very good with seeing people in despair. It affects me. I might not feel the pain in my heart but I will start crying. I am good at mimicking, after all.

So I cry when people cry. Any other emotions don't bother me much but sadness will.

Everyone was normal by the time Nuril and I went over. We sat for a few minutes before going off.

So, the part of me that has difficulty in forgiving has discovered that she can once they are dead.

I met a fascinating man today. I have heard many stories about men or women who have done what he did. So many until they began to sound like a propaganda. What makes it worst is that this is of a religious matter and many have judged a religion by the people who are of that religion.

This man I met could never be mistaken for anything other than a Muslim. He had the headgear, he had the dark mark on his forehead of a truly pious man and he even had the beard. What aroused my curiosity about him began with his comment that he was showing some Germans around. And none of the Germans spoke English. So my father asked him how he communicated with them and he replied that he spoke German fluently.

So, being curious beings that we are, my sisters and I asked our father how this man could know German so fluently. After all, it is not a language that would affect anyone in our state, our country, or even our region. So he told us this man's story.

Apparently, this man was a Christian priest very high on the echelons of the religion and he was doing some studies about the Bible. He was researching every bit of thing that is in the good book. This explains his fluency in German because he was doing most of his studies in Germany. It was while doing these studies that he found a section which stated that to find the truth, one must find a place of religion that never closes.

Almost like in the movies, this little bit became a quest for this man. The scholar in him compelled him to find this truth. After all, the true measure of intelligence is in our search for the truth. So this man searched and searched. Then at one point, he spoke to our former Chief Minister who managed to attract him to Islam. So this man became a Muslim.

Then, while performing the Hajj, he came upon the Masjid al-Haram in Mekah. And suddenly, for him, everything in his life fit into place. The Masjid is never closed. It is open 24 hours a day, 365 days a year. So, in Islam, this man found his religious place that is never closed. So he felt his search for the truth can finally be found.

The whole story he had once told my father a long time ago. While hearing it, I thought of how it can make a very good Raya movie, provided nobody turns it into a propaganda for the religion.

It is stories like this that make me happy to be in the religion I am in. Then I meet or see or read about some other people who give my religion a very bad name or reputation. It all brings me back to one thing. It is not the religion that is to be blamed. It is the people who are of that religion that are not thinking beyond themselves. Unfortunately also, religion in any world is mixed heavily with the traditions and culture of the country it is in. And once we mix traditions and religion, we almost certainly will get sidetracked.

The best way I see it is to be open-minded and intellectual. We need brain over emotions for matters like this. In some ways also, we need to accommodate and be flexible rather than stressed out and standing too rigidly. I usually listen to when someone tries to tell me things about my religion. I never claim to know everything so everything is a new learning experience for me. BUt as I listen and agree, I also plan to research and find out more. Find the truth. Luckily, I have a lot of people around me who I can ask. Whatever is religion, I will try to follow. Whatever is tradition mistaken for religion, I will listen quietly to as a sign of respect to the person telling me. They have done their bit by trying to teach me. My choice to not follow is my own.

Religion or not, I am part Chinese, part Malay, part Eurasian, part Arab. Each part teaches me and compels me to show respect which I do. I am not sucking up to anyone neither am I a goody-two-shoe as some have accused me of being. I am just doing what generations have taught me; to show respect. When you respect people, people will respect you back. A person cannot force others to completely respect them if they show no respect for others. People may say they don't mind the show of bad manners. But it is one thing to be comfortable with other people and quite another to be rude.

And society being what it is, if we show rudeness, we are not blamed. Our parents are blamed. And do I love my parents? Yes. I don't just say it. I show it. And I show it by showing others that yes, they taught me manners. Yes, they brought me up to be intelligent and yes, they brought me up to learn from my mistakes. They also taught me that while many of what I do is what I learnt from them, many of what I do is also my own mistake and can only be blamed on me.

But society being what it is cannot know this. They can only know what they see. So I try to make sure they see good things about me as it is the only thing that saves my parents' reputation. For, in my religion, my parents' afterlife depends on what I do in this life.

There were many things I wanted when I was young. The perfect life, the perfect wedding, the perfect boyfrined who would be my husband and my life was planned all the way until I died.

Since then, I've learnt that nothing is perfect, least of all myself. And I've stopped expecting too much. Somewhere along the way, I have felt disappointment from my family, my friends and, most of all, I've disappointed myself.

I made deals with God which I later reneged on. So whatever I got in return, I felt I deserved. When I thought rude things about my parents and bad things happened to me later, I was resigned to the fact that I deserved it. For every friend I let down, I figured it was fine that another friend later let me down.

I'm a strong believer in karma and the need for balance. For every good I do, there's another good waiting for me. For every bad I put someone through, I figured I deserved some bad in return. The amount of returns I get will let me know how much I've done.

Sometimes I look back at my life and I think maybe I didn't do as much bad as I am trying to repent for. Maybe He does love me more than I love myself. I am so hard on myself that I don't expect any good to happen to me. I spend so much time trying to do good to others almost without thought for myself. Sometimes I annoy Shook when I tell him people owe me money but I never claimed it. He couldn't get his mind around how I prefer to sacrifice my own ease of mind for others.

The way I see it is that I believe in God. I believe in the afterlife. What I cannot get now, I hope to get later. What I think and do and say now will either bite me back later or pat me on the head.

So far, without knowing it, I have followed the path I mapped out for myself. The timeline is off but the journey is pretty much the same. When I became a big-sized person, I figured no pilot would take a second look at me. Everyone knows pilots care for looks rather than brains. And I loved pilots. I loved all those movies and shows about pilots and planes. When I met Shook, he was a share analyst who wanted to get a pilot's license. I ever thought he'd actually be one or that I'd marry him.

The map of my life was finish school, get a job, get a boyfriend and get married. What happens after that I'll have to think of later. Turns out later might just be now. All I know is that I want to grow old with my husband, have grandchildren who we'll tell stories to and eventually die in my sleep on my birthday.

And seeing the way things seem to happen as I want them to without my forcing it to happen, I am still hoping for that eventually. But every year, on my birthday, I go to sleep with a prayer in my heart and a contention that if I don't wake up the next day, it will be exactly as I wish my death to be. I will die regretting nothing. And I will die with the certainty that I have wronged no one and wish only good things for everyone whether they be someone I love or hate.

Then maybe God will go easy on his sinful child.

You know how you don't start out feeling down or melancholy but it jumps on you anyway?

I have it now. I don't even know why. Part of my mood swing thing, I guess.

I talked to Shook last night. He tried to make me forget a lot of things. I guess the female in me refuses to forget. Yet, the aggressive bit of me wants to pulverise and destroy.

I hate losing friends or even potential friends. But this is me. I'm the person who now refuses to even hear about a certain 'friend' I once knew. She made one mistake. She put an expiry date on our friendship. More like a timeline, probably. How would you feel if someone told you "You're my past friend. They are my present friends."?

So I did what I always wondered I could do. I walked away and never looked back. Want to know a persona non grata in my life? She is it. Another friend keeps trying to talk to me about her but I usually pretend I don't hear. And you know what's worst? I'm not even tempted to find out. No curiosity, no cares, no feelings at all for her. I was told she had a baby. I felt nothing so I didn't ask if she was okay or if the baby was a boy or a girl. There was no longer a need for social niceties and courtesy.

So when I say I can cut someone out of my life, I know I can because I've done it before. And what I've done once, I can do again. And this person was my best friend. It's been more than 7 years since I cared about her. Anyone else would be no problem for me.

I never say I hate someone unless I mean it. I might not be loud but I can be mean and cold. I admire the Mafia for this reason. A bit of me follows what they are like. And when I feel someone is not worth the courtesy or my time, I stop caring. Being emotionless is easy for me. But then again, so is being impartial and fair.

Racism I can take. I don't like it but I can take it. Although I always say that a person cannot be blamed for the sins of their fathers, I also keep in mind that an apple never falls far from the tree. I don't judge people immediately but I will give them enough rope to hang themselves. And if they're found wanting, I stop wasting my time on them. I will make allowances for the people I love. But it doesn't mean I turn a blind eye.

The purpose of this post? A warning, I guess. I can and will turn away from those I find of no consequence. The only people who can change my mind are Shook, my mother and my father. But even then, I reserve my opinions and my judgements. When I am eventually proven right, which I always am, I don't gloat. But I will make sure my original displeasure is made known. There are some people in my family who my parents are trying to get me to accept again. I am stubborn, if nothing else. I don't show these people any courtesy until they show the same to my parents. I refuse to greet them until their children greet my parents. Most of all, they know I'm judging them and they know I'm watching them. And they know I will make my thoughts known to my parents. I'm not loud about it but I can be sharp. I know where it hurts them the most. I've used that knowledge before so I can use it again.

Most of all, I decide based on action, not words. Anybody can talk a bird down from the trees but nobody can hide what they really are.

There is one thing I promised myself I will do before I get married. In fact, I sort of envision doing it a few days if not the day before my wedding.

I want to get my close girl friends together and burn everything I have that reminds me of the guys I used to like. The first thing I'll throw into the fire will be a bunch of letters I received from the first guy I thought I loved. Now that I think about it, not only was he using me, he never loved me. And I never loved him. I think I was in love with the idea of being in love with him. Because when he ended up with another girl, I wasn't heartbroken about it. I was more disappointed in him because he promised he'll tell me if he ever fell in love with another girl. I found out the hard way. I walked in on her sitting on his lap. And he is not the touchy-feely sort. So I knew something was up. I know I was disappointed in him more than heartbroken.

So, it is his letters that I will burn. And to start the fire, I'll use a certain burgundy shirt with garish dragons all over it. It can be found somewhere in Shook's closet right now. He knows I intend to burn it. Now I know when.

And to add some significance to it all, maybe I'll do this burning on November 5th. That's as good a date as any.

Then I'll delete a folder in my email account. It's full of emails I got from the second guy I thought I wanted. I think it was purely lust. He came along when I was ready to start dating and so I was using him to see if I was willing to do it. That's one more thing for me to get rid of.

I might have named this entry closure but I'm pretty sure it's more than that. I merely refuse to walk into this marriage with baggage from my past. And so, I refuse to allow Shook any baggage as well. I'm hoping that the more he jokes about his stupid exes, the lighter he'll feel. All I know is that I should thank them for being stupid enough to let him get away from them.

But from what I can understand, not only were they not the sharpest tools in the shed, they also needed a dictionary when they were listening to him. Yes, they were dumb. And I saw a picture of one of them. She's plain, not as busty as the guys believe she was and definitely nothing to talk about. She acted stupid, she sounds stupid and I can say she deserves every single bad thing that happens to her now.

Karma, baby! I am a firm believer in karma!

And I have a burning ritual to plan.

Some days it just hits you when you lest expect it.

I'm having one of those days. Nothing seems right and I have no idea what to do with myself. All the songs in my computer just isn't the song I want to listen to. There's no game I feel like playing, despite having so many to pick from. I'm not looking forward to going back to work tomorrow. There's nothing I'd like to watch on TV. Besides, TV just lost its appeal to me.

I don't even have the luxury of being depressed. I don't have the delusions of illness. I want to go out yet I don't.

I just feel blah.

Somehow, this feels more scary than the bouts of depression I used to get while I was in the US. I used to get major bouts of depression for absolutely no reason at all. I wake up fine, I go about my day. Then just as I'm about to go find food or go to class or just go shopping, it hits me right between the eyes. I start crying for no reason, the kitchen knife looks damn appealing and I have a good-bye note all written out in my head. Just like that. I could be laughing at a comedy on TV one minute and down in the dumps the next. No warning, no PMS, no known reason. So instead of yelping about it, I decided to see what triggered it. Later I found that nothing triggered it. I read up on depression until a point where I had almost convinced myself I did have depression and I stopped. Reading too much about it convinced me I did have it so I stopped. Then I just decided to keep a better eye on myself. I tried to see a pattern to my emotional upheaval. I've always been an emotional person so I figured maybe that's it. But I soon found that I had no known, consistent trigger. What made me happy one moment depressed me the next.

Eventually, I got angry with myself. Especially after the second time I deliberately cut myself to see how fast my blood would flow from different parts of my body. I knew then that I needed help. And I always hated the thought of the stigma of depression if I had taken medication. So I went to a counselor and talked things through and decided to join real life.

I joined societies I thought I might like, made lots of friends, went travelling, went to any event I thought was interesting, even went to those that were only mildly interesting, did a lot of community service, went to watch a movie every week and just generally socialised. I had three different sets of friends; Malaysian and American. I did something almost every night. I even went for study groups at the library at midnight because that's when my vampire RPG group went. On weekends, I went to my friends' homes or went around the state or went to Chicago or Detroit. Even after an asthma attack once, I got up the next hour and ran in the street while waiting for a tornado to hit the town. I just refused to be depressed anymore. When I feel it coming up on me, I just went out and made sure I was never alone. My counselor felt it was a good thing to try out. She advised me against wallowing in it. For her, meds was the very last resort. When I told her I used to stand in the middle of the road to see if I'd get hit by a car, she thought I was nuts. I told her I wanted to die. Once, the car had to swerve away because I refused to move. This was in KL so there were no charges brought up against me, just a very loud honk. I was also one of those insane people who ran across a highway.

In a way, I was scared of suicide. I was depressed enough yet I knew I'd never do it, hence the cars. I was more scared of rotting in hell than suffering on earth. But if someone else kills me, I'll be murdered, not suicidal. A warped explanation but one I stayed with. I took a lot of risks back then. So many it scares me thinking about it now.

But this blahness I have now, this I-don't-care-about-anything-at-all really worries me. I rather be depressed than unfeeling.

Sometimes, I find it easy to believe that Shook does love me more than he reveals. Yesterday, something happened that got me all worked up. This usually happens when I'm extremely disappointed in a friend. Even disappointment in my family doesn't affect me like this.

But I was very upset. I was ready to send out a nasty sms to sever all ties with a particular person. It didn't help that when I mentioned it to Wil and told him how I hated such a behaviour, he agreed with me and said he hates people who do that too.

Then we decided not to talk about this person. I had already decided to myself that I'm going to ignore this person. He seems to ignore us easily enough so we don't care about him anymore. I had calmed down enough to tell myself that, if by today, I was still angry, I was going to send him an sms, then ignore his replies and calls and ban him from my messenger list. If I can cut a friend of 15 years out of my life, I can do more than that to a friend of 7 years. So I was set.

Then, out of the blue, Wil brought this person's name up again and wondered how he was doing. I think Shook heard my sharp intake of breath as I was about to say something very caustic because he quickly said "Why should we bother? After all, it's his life. We have our own."

And he said it so quietly that even Wil knew to back down. It definitely saved me from another outburst. And it definitely gave me a way to not care about this person anymore.

But the fact remains that Shook knows how friends' actions can hurt me even when I don't say much about it. He knows it has a worst effect when I don't say much. When I rant, at least, he knows I'm getting it out in the open. It's when I keep it inside that he realises I'm hurting badly. Where this person was concerned, I said only he didn't want to meet us and left it at that. So Shook knew I was upset and angry. When people have hurt me badly, he knows I tend to have as little to do with them as possible. I can look past members of my family as if they're not there when I'm angry at them. Friends? Even easier to do.

So, you see, it's little things like this that makes me know he cares. He teases me, he bullies me, he makes fun of me. But at the end of the day, he takes the time to do the little things that make me feel better. He buys me things that keep me safe and organised, not because they look pretty. All this, even if I am only catching up with his trains of thought a few years too late.

After feeling very down about a lot of things, I was almost desperate to get out of Kuching. The only way that has been possible for me has been to go with Shook to our friend's kampung. So, last Saturday, thanks to the Powers That Be!, we went off to our friend's place. We had a barbeque and generally sat around talking and laughing about the fish, the burgers and everything else. It felt good to realise that I do have a life outside of work and the associations.

For dinner, we later went to GK, which has been renamed Nice Cafe. When we asked why, the answer was funny. Apparently, everyone still refers to it as 'Nice Cafe' so the management decided to revert back to 'Nice Cafe'.

But it was while sitting there and laughing and trying to get Simon drunk that we started telling him stories about how things were before we all got shoved our separate ways. Shook and Wil kept telling Simon that they are kinder than Leon when it comes to drinking. Even then, Wil kept running after Simon with a glass of beer trying to make sure he drank it all. I tell you, anyone with a lesser sense of humour would get angry at being forced to drink when they had clearly said 'No more' already.

Then, out of the blue, Wil suddenly said he missed going out drinking with us and Mac. I found it funny considering that Mac prefers to hang out with the younger set of people nowadays. Then Wil mentioned that maybe we're too old for him. It was a remark that made me look at them all and think "Like anyone would believe we are older!"

Then we talked about drinking games. I told of the time I played an UNO drinking game and immediately Wil jumped on the idea. I thought of suggesting Munchkin but it's too serious a game for drinking sessions. But I did remind Wil of the last time we played UNO and he had to draw 12. So, if we did a shot for every Draw card we pulled, Wil would be looking at 12 shots! I think he got a bit cross-eyed just thinking about it.

Of course, we talked of all the things they did during the 'Cyberdyne days', as they called it. And Wil and Shook talked of the girls they knew. I know of these already but apparently Wil's wife did not and she kept grilling him and making jealousy-laced remarks. I wanted to ask her what she was worried about since they're already married. I was more secure in my knowledge than she was. Geez! The guy has a past. Don't hassle him about it or else the past might become the present!

And Wil, bless his soul, did what I consider the best act of friendship! He offered to go with me to Bintulu, if I ever get an attack of insecurity, just to check up on Shook. I mean, I trust Shook but there is only so much trust can do when there are bitchy snakes around. And both Wil and Simon sat there and discussed the distance and cost and length of time needed to get to Bintulu by air and by car. It was so sweet! I felt almost cherished but definitely accepted. And when I told Wil's wife that I won't be going on picnics with them without Shook around, she actually said they would come pick me up if I wanted them to. How much better can friends get, I ask you? In a world where everyone generally only thinks of themselves, there are these 4 people who are willing to go all out to make me feel better about this whole thing! I realised then why Shook enjoys spending time with this group. He caught on earlier than I did (then again, he's known Wil longer) that these are friends worth hanging onto.

Come to think of it, Wil has always helped me a lot before and I have helped him a lot too. He appreciates my honesty and doesn't hate me for it. He seems to know that I get mad at him for stupid things he did and not just for the sake of it.

But the weekend was good. It helped me reaffirm my believe in myself. I may have made some dumb choices but I made some pretty good ones too. I do have friends who care and who are secure enough to be themselves. We have too much fun to want the constant attention or the limelight. And we're too old to require that much attention.

I guess there is much to be said about hanging out with people closer to your own age. I've been spending too much time with young people or with people my own age who still haven't decided what they want and chooses to moan and groan about it. And they all want to be members of an association or all eager to get married.

Sheesh! It is enough to make people drink until they're drunk! And pass out!

I attended Idles of March last night and I think it was an interesting affair. I know I had a lot of fun until the regular customers came in and just blew it for me. We had jazz, blues and even 80s music going. Then when our session finished and the house took over, the place got really stale for me really quickly. It didn't help that some very rude people were there early and kept talking loudly throughout the poetry reading and story telling time. It only goes to show that no matter where you put them, no matter how posh the ambiance, uncouth will remain uncouth.

Anyway, regardless of this, I had fun in the first few hours I was there and I'm actually looking forward to the next one. Which by popular demand, might be sometime in the second half of this year.

I came across a very interesting article in the newspaper the other day. It was in the Nature and Health supplement of the Borneo Post. I don't usually read this section but this article was, interestingly, titled ' Nice Guys vs Good Men'.

For someone who has more guy friends than girl friends and has a lot of male students who are a little confused about their place in the universe, I thought this would be a very interesting thing to read. The first line caught my attention and held it fast. It said - 'We know that "nice guys" tend to end up in the dreaded "just-be-friends" zone. But that doesn't stop women everywhere from claiming that this is what they really want in a man. So, what's the deal here?'

Then the next interesting line - 'The difference between a genuinely good man who attracts women and one who ultimately does not, is centred around from what position he he presents in performing his 'good guy' behaviour. Men who act nice form a position of weakness end up rejected. Men who are in a position of strength, yet who treat women well, often make the women so crazy for them that they have more options than they can handle.'

Then there were two headings:
The Nice Guy Who Finishes Last (Having Come From A Position of Weakness)
1. Capitulates to women's whims
2. Is afraid to lose the woman he is with
3. Has zero leadership ability
4. Lacks confidence
5. Has thinly veiled ulterior motives

The Good Man Who Wins (Having Come From A Position of Strength)
1. Treats ALL women well, regardless of sexual attractiveness
2. Does not respect sex - men without pressing sexual needs cause women to feel more comfortable in their presence. Ironically, women who are comfortable around a man who respects them sexually are more attracted...and ultimately more sexual.
3. Takes charge
4. Has options - If a man can inspire a woman to feel valuable or special, he's on the right track, but getting both right is an unbeatable combination.
5. Has high standards - The man is evaluating the woman he is with rather than trying to impress her.

I thought this article was a very good read. It should be an eye-opener for a lot of men out there. And it also puts into words what we women have been trying to explain to men. It has nothing to do with good guys and bad boys. It has everything to do with how we are treated.

But if some guys have the luck to go gaga over some weak girl who lets herself be abused and such by a bad boy, then they really shouldn't blame the girl completely.

I do take into account the fact that some girls are weak enough to need assurance and insurance more than anything. And I do take into account that, for all a guy claims he prefers brains over looks, he usually picks looks anyway. So it's rather unusual to find a woman who is smart, confident and beautiful. And when they do find her, the guys are too overwhelmed to approach her anyway.

But in the true typical make way, it's still us females who get blamed. So the next time we talk lowly of guys, this is why. We are very aware of our own weaknesses. We acknowledge that we have them and that many of our kind have them. We look down upon such weak females who need sugar daddies or willing to be mistresses and such. But at least we admit it happens.

But overall, I finally figured out why I was so quickly attracted to Shook. He does display the traits found in the Good Man Who Wins. He has his bad boy moments which everyone else sees. But whatever good guy traits he shows, so far, is only for those very close to him to see. And any better traits are only for me to see. Which is how it should be.

And if you wish you could see it, if you're a girl you better stay away because I can get possessive, and if you're a guy maybe you should consider coming out of the closet!

Today, the parental units come home!!! Yay!!!

You know how most of us actually do want our cake and to eat it too? Well, that's me. To be honest, my parents are my foundation. I cannot imagine my life without them. Never once did I wish them away, nor did I ever wish to move away from them. I can survive without them but only for short periods of time. When I went away to study, I love the independence, the 'freedom'. But that freedom is only sweet in the knowledge that I can always, always have somewhere to run to when I am down. And that shelter has always been my parents. I still cannot get over how they arranged for a ticket for me to come home while I was the US within 12 hours. And all because I was so depressed that I was crying like a baby on the phone. And I remember my mom hanging onto the phone because I was crying when I was alone in my room one Raya while I could hear the sounds of family in the background at home.

These are all things we never appreciate until we leave home. Until our parents are not in the next room to come to our aid. That's why I get angry at people when they wish for freedom from their parents. They don't seem to see how their parents suffer for them or bend backwards to help them. I always tell my sisters to appreciate our parents because, one day, they won't be around to shelter us anymore. And, by then, it could be too late to ask for forgiveness. Or to wish.

There was time when I had a back-up plan for a lot of things. There were two back-up plans which I knew I would not change. One was if I never get married, I'd move to the Mediterranean with a friend and enjoy life and the many men/boys in it. The other plan was if I was not married and my parents are no longer around. I long decided that I'd leave Malaysia. I didn't care where I'd go. I'd just go. Yes. That's how much I love my parents.

Thanks to them I've made the right decisions in my life. I listened to them, allthough at times I wanted to rebel. Now, I reflect on what I have and I've decided that all my decisions were the best for me. I'm happy, I'm secure and most of all, my conscience is clear. My parents brought me up well, despite them admitting that they did the best they could at that time. What 'evil' I have in me, I blame entirely on myself and not anyone else.

So...yay!! My parents are coming home today. But next week, they're going off again. They're taking my sisters to Europe for a holiday. I decided to stay back because next year, they're sending me and Shook to Europe for our honeymoon. So, from next week until the end of the year, I'm going to be an orphan. So, if I get depressed or edgy, blame it on the fact that I don't like being without my parents.

But, on the plus side, my big brother is coming home. Another yay!! He asked me what I want for Christmas and I still have no idea. Maybe I should just ask him to surprise me.