Mashpotatomato

Instead of the usual long emo reflective post on the entire year, I've decided to do a quick one instead.

2009 was great, although it's not exactly the nicest number string, as the numbers don't hold connections to one another. 2+9 = 11, which is just another awkward number. the only marginally nice factor about it is that both 2 and 9 are the second and second-last numbers in the standard number string of 1-10. thus, 1+1=2, 10-1=9.

2010 on the other hand, is a very nice number. 10 is a multiple of 2. 20 is a multiple of 10. both the zeros are nicely spaced out between small value numbers. even saying it, "twenty ten" makes nerds sound cool.

So, 2009. A year of transitions, challenges. To make things simpler, let's divide it into 3 distinct periods:
Student Life, Menganggur/sampah masyarakat Life, Working Life.

Student Life:
Learned to use I-messages (*definition).
Trained myself to say please/thank you/sorry more often.
Forced myself to make more eye contact when talking to people.
Both Grandmothers died suddenly**.
Brother was hospitalised due to rare virus infection*.
Submitted my final Psych group assignment*.
Finally, submitted my thesis*.
Discovered the best nasi lemak, by the drain*.
The rare outings with my siblings - they grow up a little more whenever I go home*.
The Sister winning some public speaking competition*.
Awesome Penang trip*.

Menganggur/sampah masyarakat Life:
Moved out of my student house*.
Volunteered at World Vision office, where I was asked to phone about 120 strangers! I forced myself to face my fear of talking on the phone - yeah it's mighty silly, and I cried the night before and also teared while talking on the phone, but giants must be conquered*.
Volunteered at the Orang Asli place. I've missed these kids - it's been almost 2 years since I last saw them*.
Attended i-Bridge camp, for post-graduation people. Reflections, tough decisions*.
Forced myself not to be afraid to do people favours (after-effects of traumatic experience being labeled as Teacher's Pet back in school - also another giant I gotta battle with!).
Girly outings*.
Hiked Broga Hill and almost died*.

Working Life:
Attended my first ever Emerge Conference. The dedicated cheerleaders are so inspiring!*
Job hunting*. Reading job requirements you don't fit day after day is a very discouraging process.
Got a job that I like, nice boss, nice colleagues - the 3 criteria that I told my group members when it was time for prayer requests during i-Bridge camp, and they all looked up at me and said in unison that I'm too idealistic. Oh well, idealistic works! Prayer works! :)
Finding it hard to keep in touch with uni friends*. We actually have to make plans to meet each other. Sigh.

But as surely as the sun rises every morning,
so i will know God is present and real,
and He will bring me through it all.

Twenty-ten is gonna be great!
:)

Christmas has come and gone.

This year, i did not feel Christmassy at all, despite my best efforts. What is missing? I asked myself. Frantic last minute Christmas shopping. A week or two before, taking out the dusty tinsel and lights from their boxes and decorating the stairs railing. Hanging up the cheap polistyrene wreath made by the Sister years ago in Sunday School. Last minute wrapping of gifts with the Mother and Sister on Christmas eve. (When i was younger,) Waking up at midnight to sneak downstairs and opening a gift, then re-wrapping it to be officially opened in the morning. Waking up early on the 25th to attend church service held in City Bayview Hotel. Luncheons and dinners. Getting home tired. All these peripheral activities which have become associated with Christmas over the years, were now missing.

The adjustment of my schedule to that of an inhabitant of the Working World had disabled me from carrying out Christmassy tasks. But there was one moment when it all came back to me, and that was when I was standing in line waiting to try on some clothes I had to buy, promising myself I would not take as long as the women in the changing rooms were taking because I am a considerate citizen (or at least would like to believe so).

In the midst of the stifling air-conditioned area filled with female pheromones, cliched Christmassy music, and tacky decorations which clashed with the overall interior scheme of the shop but which was saved somewhat by the soft yellow lighting, there and then I felt the feeling of being Christmassy.



And then it was gone, just like that.

Strange. Our mental image of how Christ's birth ought to be celebrated is very much a Western concept, what with snowflake motifs hanging everywhere. Imagine having people celebrate your birthday, throwing a party with a theme that hasn't been tailored to your likes.

So John and I were driving back home on the 24th. It was nice of him to have stayed back 2 days and waited for me to travel home together. I was talking about how this year is so different, using an example relevant to his experiences to demonstrate my point, but he burst out saying, "Hey it's never gonna be the same anymore. But so what? I'm spending Christmas eve with you. And that's all that matters."

In a normal social context, the appropriate social script to follow would be one where the girl says "Awww" and gives her boyfriend a huge hug signifying endearment. But whatever. I couldn't be bothered to succumb to social demands. It was too much to take in. How can things not be the same!! Shocked, I retreated into myself, grieving with an overwhelming sense of loss, watching as headlights raced past us, and said, "It's not the same". I will never have long holidays in December to carry out those unimportant activities anymore. No one told me it was to be my last year. What happens to traditions not kept?

Halfway through the journey, we both became very sleepy. His eyes were drooping slowly, while I expanded great effort and summoned all the adrenaline left in my system to keep talking, and talking, and to remain awake, and to keep slapping his back. It was all very weird and mixed up, I was jumping from one random topic to another - Hey look! Lorry with chickens! See their feathers flying out! Poor chickens gonna be cooked tomorrow! Can make feather duster! Open the windows, we need oxygen! So noisy! Thirsty lah! Hey car with WTF number plate! ...And I don't remember much.

Thank God we finally reached the Senawang rest stop. Parked in the middle of trucks and trailers, I tried to keep watch but soon fell asleep, lulled by the steady whirr of big engines. I awoke; and watched with great anticipation as 11:59 switched to 12:00.



Despite it all, Christmas came. It was Jesus' birthday, all the same.

We eventually reached home. We celebrated. With family, with good old friends. It wasn't the same, but it was good nevertheless. Change is not that bad after all. And well, I cheat - some things can never change.

:D


















Happy Birthday, Jesus.

Facebook is a useful tool to keep up to date with what your friends are up to (especially when it's the day before you're about to meet a friend you haven't seen in ages & need to get some clues on your common interests so as to ensure a smoother conversation flow), as well as to stalk various acquaintances.

Its standard blue-and-white user interface ensures easy access to friends' photos, emo notes, and blogs (where applicable). This has definitely taken the art of stalking to another level - now, even noobs can stalk! (That's why you don't find this as a title in the ugly yellow dummy's guide book series.) There is no longer the need to laboriously bookmark, categorize, and rename the blogs you intend to stalk - it's all under one roof! ;)

I have been browsing through a few blogs of Chinese acquaintances (not to the extent of combing through every single Facebook page of friends and clicking on their blogs like what Mike did omg!?!) and have found them extremely amusing. Please bear in mind that this is merely my observations, and as are all observations, tend to be seen with rather subjective lenses.

***

Speed reading through the first paragraph of a blog post, it is immediately recognizable whether the writer attended a SRK or SRJK school. Ruling out the factors of spelling mistakes and grammatical errors (nobody is perfect aye?), the writing style between these two groups is very distinct.

Ex-SRJK students tend to begin with a general metaphor about life/ an extremely detailed description of nature/ definitions and deep analyses of a single word -- that by the end of the first paragraph, your mind has wondered to the East and to the West, until you totally give up trying to guess what the post could actually be about!!! (and they like to use hyperboles such as 'fly to East and West', quotation marks around words, and multiple exclamation marks).

Ex-SRK students on the other hand get straight to the point, but towards the middle of the post, they talk about so many other things, until you totally give up trying to guess what the post could actually be about. (and they like to use the same words over and over, for lack of an extensive metaphor vocabulary like their SRJK counterparts).

Ex-SRJK students also tend to distinguish greatly between the genders, with strong gender stereotypes. All girl friends are referred to as a single entity, as though they have no individual identities. Now, this is when it gets tricky - sometimes, the girls act all cutesy (think poofy faced, big colour contacts watery big eyes) while the guys act all hero and protective; other times, they act all bully-ish while the thin guys act cutesy or blur. I am still trying to understand this part.

Images used to illustrate emo posts (most of which are in Chinese, which I pathetically use Google Translator to read, which comes out ridiculous!) are in 2D form, usually taken off the Internet. When personal photos are used, don't expect to see anything with less than 5 people in a photo, thanks to this thing called the collectivist culture. Everyone poses identically, with the world-renowned Asian peace sign. Asianz rulez.

Ex-SRK students' photos on the other hand have most likely been taken by the author of the blog. There are more candid shots which have not been post-processed to include semi-translucent stars and hearts hovering in the background, as well as obviously fake pink spots on cheeks as seen in the other group's photos. However, you have to scroll through alot of crappy photos of inanimate objects the deluded author thought was nice, such as tomato sauce bottles and 12 different angles of the same piece of cake. Quality control is lacking.

As for clothing worn in photos, I need not elaborate much. Ex-SRJK students dress in all the colours of the rainbow. The colourfuller the better. Ex-SRK students dress in a maximum of 3 colours per person (1 of which is black), with minimal words and/or squiggly lines on t-shirts. The plainer the better.

To me, sometimes the extreme exaggerations used to illustrate a point in ex-SRJK students' blogs come across as ridiculous, but at times like that, I direct-translate them into Chinese, and it actually makes more sense, e.g. "my brain going to explode like bomb!!!!" is actually, "wo de tou nao yao pau zha le!!!!" which isn't that weird after all. Maybe one day I'll compile a list of commonly used hyperboles in the chinese Chinese subculture.

***

These are my observations from blogs alone. That said, extreme generalization is not good, as it removes the 'person' element from the 'people'. We're all unique, and psychologists need to learn that they can never predict human behaviour accurately. Our Creator is awesome like that.

Experiences with both groups of people have made my life richer and my worldview broader, and that is why I love my country of a melting pot of cultures - even within the Chinese community there exists such varying subcultures! I have learned that I am not worthy to judge and to say who is better than who, for only those who need to be reassured of their worth need to put others down. Simple common sense lah.

Let's not be ethnocentric, people! :) Those who love much, gain much.


---

*SRK = Sekolah Rendah Kebangsaan.
The medium of instruction used in these primary schools is Malay/English.

SRJK = Sekolah Rendah Jenis Kebangsaan.
The medium of instruction used in these primary schools in Mandarin.

I don't believe in lazy people. There are only people who are being lazy (for various reasons - no motivation/no purpose in life/to avoid possible failure), but lazy people, no such thing.

Fellow humans, we've got to learn not to hide behind the labels we give ourselves, and instead just be ourselves. Tough, in a material world where everything may be accessorized.