bitter

for some reason.

i hate people. i love people.

i am an observer. no doubt about that.

i still like to have people approach me though.

but i don't.

i am the angry looking person. as usual.

cheeries are disgusting. cherry coke is disgusting-er. but i'm still forcing it down my throat.

i have an essay to finish, which i have no idea how to.

i'm living on fish and cheese and bread and vegetables.

how much more healthier can i get.

i'm bruised all over from braking. i only made tiny progress to achieve that amount of pain. but it'll do wonders for my body strength.

ru0yt9nk4j3;930ru39-rj3lrn@#%(&#)%&$@*)THEWIOh0qrhiewlrhkewlf

i feel like roaming around at night again. its not even dark yet. dammit.

cherry coke is disgusting. i repeat. cherry coke is disgusting.

the american accent is getting on my nerves. i wonder if i'm meant to be here at all. or maybe this is punishment for drawing on the walls when i was little.

i like the floor lovers. they're friendly and nice people. unlike sorrority girls and sun bathers. no idea why they can't keep up with my train of thoughts. pfffttt.

i wish i wish i wish.

i want the essay to be magically done. now. NOW.

when the chaos is worth it.

Sometimes I'd wake up really bad-tempered on account of my cousins pretending to be Transformers or princesses.

I'd feel like a witch for wanting to eat children. But a cup of tea and maybe a buttered piece of toasted french bread later, the world is well again and I'd shrug it off as a quirk of mine.

I really don't know why I'm averse to noise. It's not limited to the ones children make while playing games of Megatrons killing Octopus Prime or whatever his name is. I was told that perhaps I'm too used to growing up in a quiet environment.

Whatever it is, the craziness in my grandma's place is worth it when the familial affection is as tangible as this.



I used to tell people I hate golf because it was such a stupid game. Like, come on. Who in their right minds would stroll around a golf field the whole day looking for a tiny white ball to whack? Then my uncle, the former weightlifter turned golfer, brought me to a driving range. I'm eating my words. It's so addictive. I can see exactly why people would stroll around a golf field the whole day looking for a tiny white ball to whack.

I was in Seattle last week and I got to explore the place on foot. I finally found an alley that looked like how an alley should be. In my head, at least.

Pike Market Place was the coolest market ever! I never expected to visit the place that inspired the Fish! novel. It had everything a market could sell and then some. I'm no good writing travel pieces but it's one of the most fascinating spots to visit.

There's the Pike Fish Co. stall that had all these hot guys in overalls (I know, I know. First thing I thought was "Oh hello...") expertly tossing salmon and assorted seafood around. Then all thoughts of hot fisherman vanished when I caught sight of these babies.

I've always wanted to browse through antique stores. This place had the weirdest junk. But the coolest items by far were these swweeeeeeet pieces of technology.

Did I mention the crabcake burger is pure art? We were at this shabby restaurant/pub at the market but it's really nothing to thumb your nose at when the food is this fantastic. No visit to Seattle would be complete without a culinary adventure at the Pike Market.

I really, really, really kinda wish I could take this all back home and enjoy it there as well.

Man, I love salmon. Raw, smoked, seared - as long as it's dead. Nuff said.

I don't know how I ended up talking about salmon when I meant to expound on the joys of being around family. But I guess my stomach was thinking aloud again.

textures

i'm pretty sure i have a compulsive obessive disorder. i keep checking my email and blogs everyday. hmph.

we went grocery shopping today. it was near orgasmic to see rows and rows of categorized canned food, shampoo and frozen stuff. patterns are nice. sometimes. *ramble ramble*

the weekend is nice. i've dozed in and out of dreamless musical states several times this morning and afternoon. whimsical states of mind (without any drug effects) are fun after a whole week of running around to classes, rushing to activities and avoiding the rain to no avail. its good to take things slow after awhile.

there are lots of eye candy here. i've only managed to meet one. then again it was just a fleeting moment. mmm.


i'm beginning to discover what kind of person i am. thankgoodness i'm not an exclusive bubble shorts and hair flick girl. nor am i very enthusiastic in the african american rap scene. i figure i'm versatile. not easy to find another versatile person. everyone seems to be classified into a certain clique here. not discrimination exactly, but it does make life more difficult. hmm. self discovery is a b*tch indeed.

oh, i bought a bike. bicycle. i mustve been too eager during the auction. i didnt notice that it was the trick kind of bike. its a good price, but not comfy for my cheeks after awhile. especially with a backpack bearing down on my weight. geez. o well. i'm not expecting to do long distance anyway. i hope. pffft.

aih. i'm just waiting for something to happen. i get the feeling that something huge is coming. no idea what it is. maybe its just something i'm hoping for or it could be my instincts. no way to tell.

when lox rocks my world.

AFTER a butt-flattening (as if it ain't flat enough), stomach-churning 17 hr flight from home to my grandmother's place, I feel as if I'm ready to take a long, long nap.

Yet I find it extremely difficult to adjust to the jet lag. I become a zombie in the afternoons here because my body is still in tune with the wee hours of Brunei. It's not very pleasant stumbling and shuffling through shopping malls with eyebags that have their own eyebags.

My schedule is not filled with trips to tourist areas (thank God) this time; I've been to the Granville market and having heaps of dessert with my second uncle, a former weightlifter turned golfer. Apart from that, it's been slow.

It's good for me, I need the time off but I'm itching to write. I've already started on a features that will hopefully turn out well. We'll see if I have the concentration - I keep getting distracted by my cousins running around. All these kids. It's slightly frightening. I like kids, don't get me wrong, just at a distance.

Maybe I'm not so good with them but I don't know, I get so-very-annoyed when they whine/cry/scream. Don't judge me. I just don't know how to deal with mini me's very well.

It's summer here. Supposedly. I've been bundled in blazers and jackets ever since I arrived. Their idea of summer and Melbournians idea of summer are completely polar opposites. Canadians don't like their summer too hot, they prefer a dash of grey in the sky and maybe a chilly wind or two whereas Melbournians wear next to nothing in the 40 degree heat. I learn new things everyday.

Fruits overfloweth here. I wish I could gorge on these berrylicious produce at home.

It's a very deli area. Loads of specialized foods like cheese, tea, deli meats and so on. Reminds me a lot of Prahran market. Minus the Aussie accent.

Now this is how a bagel is supposed to look like. Lox (smoked salmon) on cream cheese with capers and onions on a toasted poppyseed bagel. I quote a certain graphic designer, "It is the awesome".

My first hatshop experience. It was lovely! I saw a dashing white fedora and thought of getting it for myself - so it would complete my costume for my birthday party (yes, Pimp'n Hoes, more to come on this). It was mooted when I saw a pair of native American silver earrings though. History over hoes, anyday.

The first instalment of my stay here is rather dull, I must admit. But my parents were stuck in Chicago yesterday and there was no way to contact them. I was trying not to worry my head off and I think it took quite a bit out of me.

Apparently the tornados in the states caused the cancellation of more than 500 flights. There was no way of contacting them and vice versa, we only found out about this when my third uncle, volleyball enthusiast, went to the airport to pick them up last night.

Fark. It was bloody scary not knowing what was going on. But all's well that ends well, everything turned out alright.

For some reason, I'm getting super annoyed. Must be the jet lag/claustrophobia/hormones and everything wrong in the world.

frankieeeee

one more week to this.


*hops madly in circles*

i still don't understand people who blog about the nitty gritty details of what happened in their life today. "i woke up and brushed my teeth. my breath smelled really bad. then i took a shower and changed and had cereal for breakfast. it was good. then i went out." = =" bloody unnecessary and boring can? or how some toothpaste tastes horrible. or how the pillow cases dont match. or how the colours don't mesh.



gimme a friggin break.



there's no substance at all. does that mean that their life is boring? not necessarily. but it means that their mind is so focused on the little details that they forget to look at the bigger picture, at the ideas and philosophy behind actions. geez. who cares how you brush your teeth.


i need substance, man. substance.

plus, its amazing how two faced some people can be. well, lucky for me, i have friends who understand me and vice versa. so we basically know what the logic is behind the actions and non-actions.



making friends is more difficult though. i need to talk about the weather and clothes and school. i don't even care much for those stuff. but society requires teeth on a face so i have a plastic look everytime i see some people i know but don't know. or maybe its a constipated look. don't know. must find out.



anyway. shallow people still annoy me. and guess what. i'm in the land of the shallow. woohoo.




ps. oooooooooo my room is 60% prettier and more livable. soon, soon!

i feel like a shark.

IT'S hard not to seeing that I've been attending corporate lunches featuring Brunei's hotshot business community members and hotshot international representatives. One thing I didn't count on when I entered business is acting the part of a suit.

Once again I am struck with the heavy irony of the situation. What happened to the free-loving vegan-burger-munching student activist who vowed to forever fight The Man? Obviously now I am The Man. Or perhaps I'm working from within like a subversive element. Pfft.

In all honesty I'm just doing my job and I don't think I'm even doing it right. It's hard enough to approach total strangers on the street, much less, a total bigshot ceo or company president. Hadthiah and I had such a hard time networking at one of the business events this week. We were basically trying to muster up the courage to speak to all these people while waiting for lunch to be served.

Why is it so difficult to talk to a prominent person? Is it the suit? Or the intimidating Red Tie? Perhaps we suffer from introverted personalities but that has to change...shit, it's awful wearing a bright smile while handing out business cards. It makes my face crack something bad.

At the end of the lunch I was so desperate for a quote from an 'authority figure' that I ran up to one of Brunei's business leaders and quickly laid my case before him. All I got was, "It's really nice to see you again Wani but I'm really busy right now. I'll talk to you next time''. At least I wasn't screamed at. That has been known to happen.

My partner said I was a bit like a shark. Zooming in for the kill, so to speak. Desperation and fear makes a powerful motivator.

Reporting and writing are one thing, being one of them i.e. a suit is another. I suppose that's where a sharp outfit and killer handshake come in. I've been perfecting my confident slash sincere facial expression in the mirror but I've always ended up looking like The Joker on speed.

So far, the only thing I've observed is that writers and networking lunches are like oil and water.

By the Indonesian sea.

The first afternoon was spent traversing these narrow alleys while simultaneously avoiding motorcyclists intent on using these shortcuts/crushing our toes.

By the end of the trip, I could pronounce it like the locals, "Pak, kami mau pergi ke Hoh-tell Sah-feer Mah-bee-sa'"

Kechak.

"Gormless at Gump's"

This Balinese artist floored Fei and I with his exceptionally cultured and eloquent philosophical monologue. He later revealed that he's never been to school.

It looked really interesting and I wanted to try one but then I realized the dude who owned the cart broke about a million food safety laws.

We were really thrilled to finally get some Krispy Kremes on our last day at the beach. At least, Fei was.

new air

funny. its so hard to pay attention to my music in this new place. i'm finding it difficult to match the sound to the atmosphere. i guess my collection is still quite limited, if i can't even get the right mood to match.

i'm currently lounging barefoot on a plush couch at the lobby of the campus' union. it's late at night, and noone cares about visible toes. even if it was daytime. heheh. i'm just pushing back my sleeping hours. i also need some alone time. too much company isn't healthy for the mind. i've yet to make new friends though. i'm looking forward to that. that mental stimulation i haven't had for quite awhile. i've also signed up for quite a few programs. why not. might as well just dabble in here and there for this year. and the next. and the next. at least i'll feel better after a little financial crisis.

i still haven't received my allowance. its annoying. and inconvenient. i haven't had to withdraw so much from my savings before. my savings yo. so much for a scholarship. pffft.



i love the wooden interiors and yellow lights. its so grand and comforting. its making me sleepy. flourescent lights are still a better conducive environment in my opinion. at least i don't have to squint. wakakakakakakaka.

there are quite a lot of chinese/japanese students here. its interesting. i'm one of the first bruneians in this part of illinois. its just interesting. what will my mark be. where will it land. i hope i'll be able to achieve something. the halls here are decorated with portraits of accomplished old men and women ex-students/faculty. just rows and rows of portraits. of eyes staring back at you. asking what are you going to do with your life.

for starters, i had a double scoop of zanzibar chocolate icecream on a waffle cone today. that's today's accomplishment. finishing that was no mean feat. it was rich, super rich and yummy, my mouth went numb after a fwe minutes. it was good. it was an accomplishment. i eat like a king now. of course, i will refrain from joining the 'jiggle' club. i;ve been walking a lot so the exercise helps.

halal food seems to be a lil difficult here. havent actually encountered or found any zabiha meat. so its been vegetarian for the past few days. im not complaining much. i dont mind taters. no indeed. the hot chocolate mornings are also magnifique. i'm not complaining at all. i just hope i'll be able to find some meat. i miss chicken. chiiiickennnnn. chiiiiickennnnnn. wakakaka. otherwise i might just have to jump on the train to chicago. now that's where the party at.



hmmm. so far so good. i like my life. i worked so hard for all this. i'm enjoying the fruits of my success. very good. mmmmm.

i can't believe how much i miss some people tho. like a certain foulmouthed city driver. or a long time buddy for sushi outings. or a girly companion for breakfast at the mamak shop. yeah. i miss them. i just miss the food and the company. aside from that, i don't think i'm suffering from cultureshock. dont think i will. canada was a good appetizer for culture shock. it did me a lot of good.



i'm moving into my 'permanent' house tomorrow. i've seen the house with my own eyes. it's very pretty. from the outside. can't say much yet for the rooms. o well.

its funny how perspective changes from time to time.

i wish i could sleep on this couch. too bad someone'll prod me awake if i do. i do have a room upstairs. pffft. not a homeless student. not just yet anyway. hahahaha.

FYI

i have another joint blog with freeze. it's meant for our scholarly american experience, to be shared with the minis of brunei. do pop in at beewon & beetoo. it's entertaining at least. i'll still blog here tho, as an individual rocker chic. wakakakakakkaa.


more soon.

Of grapes and girls.

listening to:
Robin Thicke - Lost Without You





I had a most baffling experience today. I was listening to Dewi's spiel on what it means to love God when one of the new reporters interrupted us. There was a box of red grapes that I bought earlier and she asked if I could have some since she hadn't had lunch yet.

"Yeah, have some more,'' said this generous grape afficionado. "Oh no no, it's too much carbs,'' the new reporter airily replied as she sauntered away.

Carbs??? Like I said, baffled. Did she not receive the mandatory secondary school education? You need it for energy, fool. Then again here was someone who believes in eating as little as possible - after enduring several excruciating hours of hunger, of course - and regurgitating whatever made it down her oesophagus. For some reason, I just really pity her. Imagine, not being able to enjoy one of the simple pleasures of life because of some deep-seated fear of being *gasp* fat *shock!horror!*

Fine. I'm being a pretentious know it all bitch aka Dr Phil wannabe. But in my defence (or was it defense, I forget), it's really difficult to take someone seriously when they've reduced themselves to nothing but the size of their asses. Oh I'm sorry for not understanding that eating makes you feel guilty. Oh I'm really sorry that you have the luxury of throwing up while millions out there are literally dying to be in your position.

Spare me the body image issues. If everything is all about the calories and the carbs, then why bother eating? I have no patience for foolishness. This lack of common sense and a deadly ignorance about what constitutes healthy living is so very disturbing. Not to mention irritating.

Even this rant is getting on my nerves.

Carbs...honestly.

sick

o.
my.
god.

i must've puked my own body weight in the last 48 hours.

here's a brief description of my oh-so-lovely flight that OSM scheduled:
brunei to dubai: 7 hours
dubai to london: 7 hours
london to washington: 7 hours
washington to chicago: 1 hour
chicago to urbana: 30 min


NON BLOODY STOP. the overnight reprieve at washington was heaven. we met very nice countrymen and ate home food. it would've been nicer if we had one more night to recover. cos i seriously hate flying now. ugh. barf. double barf. airsickness pills do not work in these sort of extreme conditions. why did we have to fly nonstop again? whose brilliant idea was it???



the longest flight of my life. pure torture. i duno how the hell im supposed to make these trips twice a year. i'd rather jump off a cliff. with a parachute. pfffffttttt. that's not all. we're almost broke now, because of somebody's incompetence. bloody hell. we're practically living off pop mee smuggled in. good thing we brought our own cash. even then, we're only just scraping by. i wonder if we're ready to starve. T_T some people are gna pay. being guinea pigs aint fun.



i'm pissed. i'm almost broke and i'm in the land of jiggles. i'm tired. i already miss nasi and ayam and kopitiams. plus i'm living on a whim. bugger. i'm ready to stab someone.



i need sleep. my bodyclock has gone bonkers. haven't fully adjusted yet. but i'm real thankful for the embassy people in washington. they're really nice and homey. like new daddies all over again. pfffftttt.



and yes. that's the image of a horribly jetlagged person. B2 that is.


i'm 11hours behind brunei time. keep it in mind if you want to call. =)

choked up over the wrong reasons

please do not read on if you are sensitive to negative thoughts. i'm quite allergic to feeble minds, you see. please be reminded that this is MY blog; where i rant and point fingers. so i'll quake in fear and shame if you ever judge me based on my thoughts.




just bloody freaking thoughts.

life sure if screwed up. i get all the affection from the *points skywards* in the oddest and least predictable ways. strangers and acquaintances i met in fleeting moments give me more warmth and sincerity than supposed blood ties and we-have-history friends. geez. i suppose all the waiting was worth it. it always usually is.



i still don't get how pissed off i can be and still manage to contain it in. i imagine broken glass, puddled floors, scratched cars, banging doors and the like if i ever do let go. oh and not to mention yelling expletives while throwing in some long thought guilt-causing points. ooooo how i've always wanted to do that. the satisfaction is beyond orgasmic. its damn well blood gushing good.



suffice to say, i was reminded again of why and who are my trusted confidants. and my "enemies". they just make my mind unhealthy. i'm also afraid that my vocabulary would diminish to a pathetic A5 page of simple worded curses. being reserved does have its benefits i must say. so much so i wish hogwarts was real and i was in slytherin. mmmmmm yummy.



my heart breaks for the cousins i hardly meet. for the mentally and physically challenged. for the war victims. for the bloody politicians' people. i've seen and talked to people i wish i never had to because now every time i'm reminded, i feel so guilty and lower than dirt because they're ever much more noble and true with their intentions and i just feel like a rat for not helping out and being ignorant purposefully and not purposefully. being guilty is bad enough. but that's not all. i get pissed at people, like my own parents and friends, who discriminate and avoid the whole issue. they're freaking ignorant and selfish. just so bloody pissed off because they refuse to even consider the ideas, that we're all different but that doesn't mean that we're not the same.



people have said that i'm cold, distant, hard to approach, hard to please. unemotional. whatever. as if i care. I DON'T FUCKING CARE. i'm a thinker that's what i am. the bloody wankers are just prats trapped in their little world who care about their hair and clothes more than they do about the real world. it's not always me me me me me me me me me. look at the freaking bigger picture! i'm tired of this little town filled with little minds. they can live their little lives til they rot and die. i'm getting out.

today

marks six months since I started writing for a living.









It's an odd feeling.

another angry girl entry

I think it's the sweetest thing ever and I wish I could but I'd end up looking like a right monkey since he lives in a bungalow.

Since we're talking about monkeys anyway, I'd like to say one thing about Bruneian drivers/pedestrians/general public - apes, all of them! They're all road-raging, egomaniacal vigilantes. Normally I'd be impressed by their sheer creativity at flaunting their motoring attitude in the face of the law i.e. parking in the middle of a major road, double parking on the sidewalk (sidewalk!), etc etc etc.

Last night I just wanted to be another road rage statistic. The one inflicting the pain, I mean.

Left the office around 7pm when I hit a busy intersection at Kiulap. No worries, I thought, plenty of time to shower, change and make it for Fred's birthday dinner. But then I waited for 5 min, which turned to 10....then cars in front of me inched further and further up till I realized the flashing lights yonder were policemen directing traffic AWAY from the highway that leads home.

That's alright, I was still calm and collected (just barely). Then a 15 min detour turned into a 1 and half nightmare where I swore, yelled at strangers, gestured rudely to the fools who tried to jump the queue - as if they could at the rate traffic was crawling.

It completely slipped my mind that the capital was celebrating the Sultan's 61st birthday with a whole load of fancy firecrackers accompanying the annual night parade. Meaning the entire town centre is saturated with human bodies taking up much needed road space. Meaning I was stuck in traffic for no reason. The following conversation took place with a police officer (hereafter known as P) when I had to make a huge U-turn back to the office.

Me: Assalamualaikum. Camana ke Kianggeh?
(Salutations, how do I go to Kianggeh?)
P: Kianggeh? Eh, nda dapat tu eh. Jalan ditutup sudah
(What? You can't, all the roads are blocked)
Me: HAH?!?! Tapi, tapi aku tinggal di Kianggeh tuan!
(HAH?!?! But, but I LIVE there sir!)
P: Oh...masih nda dapat, duduk minum tunggu saja lah.
(No can do. Why don't you just park somewhere and have a drink while waiting?)


Aaaarrghhh! I was ticked off, tired, wilted from the heat, late for dinner and yes, really ticked off. At that point, I was punctuating every sentence with inventive swear words. Finally, being trilingual has its uses.

Geez man, it was my first encounter with a frigging full-fledged traffic jam in Brunei. This happens what, twice a year so I suppose it's not too bad compared to Jakarta or KL. But still. For someone who gets peeved waiting to get into a parking spot, an hour and half in a jam is absolutely horrifying. So I ended up attending the birthday dinner in business clothes and tai-tai pearls while everyone was denim clad.

The night turned out pretty well but I'm pretty sure I'd make one mean road bully, given the right circumstances. It's a lovely morbid thought to dwell on the next time I'm stuck.

*dum dum duuummmmmm*










Oxymoron of the day - Bruneian traffic jam.

i see red

you know, sometimes i wonder if i'm a pushover. i tend to wait on people a lot. i don't know why. i don't know why they seem to take me for granted, like i'll always be there on their beck and call. the select few people who know me just don't seem to know me. i'm a bit fed up. maybe more than a bit, but i'm trying to make some compensation here. if it weren't for them, i'd have no one. what kind of choice is that? they say you can't choose your friends. i suppose today is just a bad day. i'm not making excuses. really. i better not be.

i wonder if this is the manifestation of the introvert in me.

i'm currently sitting in manjaro. this is now my new hideout. if and when i start living in bandar again that is. pfft. the perfect place to be unnoticed. i saw an officer at some mall just now. he didn't even show a hint of recognition. i must be better at this disguise thing than i thought.

well i'm still doing what i do at home; staring at the screen. but the new environment is refreshing at least. it's a poor excuse to get out of the house, but watehell. i've only got a few more days left. i've done my share of moping around.

i still don't get my stomach. it hurts at the most unlikely places and it doesn't hurt at the most obvious places. its like the evil twin of sir Id's digestion tract.

hmmm. i'm still waiting.

You made my day.