Dear Y, remember how we were friends once upon a time?

Dear Y,

Sometimes I sit and I think of our friendship of 15 years. And I wonder how a simple exchange of emails could have possibly destroyed that friendship. At first, I was saddened by the turn of events. But today, I am just plain outraged.

Remember when we were back in high school when we were merely 13 yrs of age? My mum gave you a ride home after you complained of tummy ache and your parents were too busy to come pick you up. That was the first time I met you. And til early this January, we were friends. Now, we are merely acquaintances.
Remember how you used to be grumpy back in school? And I would just come up to you and ask you what was the matter?And you would grumpily chase me away? Well I do. I remember how difficult it was to deal with your moodiness but that didn't mean that I did not want to remain a friend.

Remember how you called me crying about your live in bf? And how he cannot commit to you? Remember how you complained about his mother and how he is a mommy's boy? I do. I remember talking to you for hours on the phone telling you not to be upset and that don't worry, if he decides to walk away, I will always support you.

Remember when you called me complaining about your housemate? And how she was talking shit about you behind your back? Making sure that all your friends hung out with her and not with you?And that she was just a bad housemate in general? I do. I listened attentively as you complained about her and I told you, that you did not have to suffer her.

Remember how you were angry with your brother? And how he always talks you down? I do. I told you not to be affected by it because you're a grown woman now. Free to make your own decisions in life.

Every time you were back in Malaysia, I memorised your schedule and made every effort to meet you. I made sure I saw you at every opportunity and made sure I knew exactly when you were flying back so that I could make the most of your time here.

And finally,

Remember how you would shout at me for no reason? And I would not say anything.
Remember how you would yell at me if you are unhappy? And I would not retaliate.
Remember how you would complain that I'd rather spend time with my bf then you when all our other friends never made half the effort I made to be with you? And I didn't point it out to you.
Remember?

Funny you don't.

Because after experiencing a major all of you vs me early this year, I think I have finally had enough.

I have had enough of all of you taking me for granted.
I have had enough of being yelled at and called names such as being judgmental and critical when with every step of whatever decision all of you have made, I have been there.
I have had enough of always being the one who makes all the plans and when I don't I am actually labelled a BAD FRIEND.
I am tired of all of you badmouthing my BF when I have not as much as made a squeak about yours. (And I have known your BF longer than you have)

I am sick and tired of it.

And now, just because I told you off about it, you have decided to ignore me and abandon the friendship and convert it to an acquaintanceship?

At first, I was hurt. But you know what ? I don't care anymore.
You are free to find somebody else to be your friend. You are free to take someone else for granted.
Because I rather be friends with people who appreciate me.

Yours,
Me.

Men!!

Ah, L'Amour by Don Hertzfeldt - The most amazing home videos are here

It's funny how men are deluded that way.

You think you're great just cos you live abroad?

While most Malaysians were still in shock over the death of the political secretary, a suicide bomber ran into the Marriot and Ritz to blow himself to pieces. And one of them apparently is a Malaysian.

A friend then posted a link on her FB. And another commented that she cannot remember when was the last time she heard anything good from Malaysia. Irked, I replied that I myself cannot remember the last time I heard anything good from the country she resides in now and calls home. To which her classic reply was "no news is good news".

What a load of bull.
You know what irks me? Not that the statement was clearly made with ignorance but because plenty of Malaysians who have taken residence in other countries are quick to point out this country's shortcomings.

Even a simple mention by a friend that "Malaysian men have no manners and <insert all other bad qualities possible>" sent my blood boiling. Yeah, we all know you married a westerner. Good on you. But I am sure your brother and your father will be upset to know you think that they are unworthy men. And I am sure, just because you do not know how to appreciate a Malaysian man, OR that Malaysian men do not find YOU attractive, all of them are scums of the universe.

Those of us who actually LIVE and WORK here, are entitled to throw insults, criticise, make fun of and laugh at the situation here because we are directly affected by it. Those who do not live here and are quick to judge, my question is, is the country you live in SO perfect? What are the problems there? No problems? That's nice. I didn't know an utopia existed. Now I do.

I am sorry you forget that Malaysia was the country you were born in. The country that provided you your basic education. The country that did not bar you from leaving it for you to pursue your dreams of marrying a foreigner/ succeeding in a career in a foreign land. The country that with all its shortcomings, you are still too petrified of losing your citizenship (for some weird reason) and the country which you actually originate from. Wherever you are now, you will NEVER, I repeat NEVER be their citizen. It will NEVER be your birthplace. You will ALWAYS remain an outsider.

While people in the country you call home, still hurl racist insults at you and look down on your race, you have ignorantly embraced them like they are your family.

Ignorance comes in many forms. Ignorance blanketed by arrogance is the worst.

I am not saying that I may not one day leave this country in search of different pastures, but at least I can say this for myself. I have worked here. I have tasted the system here. I have experienced the life here. And if I want to go over there and make comparisons, at least I have a basis. But then again I will not. Because at the end of the day, Nothing can change the fact that I am MALAYSIAN. And unlike you, I am not ashamed of it.

MJ tribute my arse.

Bets friend JoL (who is now blissfully in love. Awwww...) dragged me out of my domesticated mode (clean the house. wash the clothes, hit the sack at 11pm) for Mambo Jambo last night. It was themed "tribute to the King of Pop" (or something along those lines).
So me being sort of an admirer or MJ of sorts, I agreed to go. (I even did my "unleash the moonwalk! Who's the King now bitch!" impersonation to anyone who would look/listen.)

It sucked. It sucked so bad I wanted to roundhouse kick the organiser for wasting my time.
Sure, they had the usual things, the MJ impersonator. The MJ songs. But that lasted about say, an hour at the most.

The MJ impersonator danced on the dance floor. Now, unless ALL of us are of the heights of 5 feet to 8 feet, how the heck do you expect people who are standing a bit further behind to be able to see the performance? So half the time, we could hear cheers, but we saw nothing. Nil. Nada. Elek.

So there we were, almost bored to our wits, feeling extremely cheated by the whole tribute thing which was not, we saw a group of girls being chased away by bouncers. These girls I believe were out for a friend's hen night. (a friend whispered in my ear: girls got the whole idea of a hen night ALL wrong, the MEN should outnumber the women! Here there are only girls!Damn salah!)

JoL was also quick to remind me : MY HEN NIGHT I WANT MEN. PREFERABLY NAKED MEN.
Noted.

So, I overheard one of the girls saying to her friend : "we got a table but they F**king chased us away for royalty!"

I don't get this whole uppity nose high in the air atmosphere in Zouk.

No.1 : Do you think those two or three tables of royalty/celebrities will sustain your club if the rest of the non royalty/celebrity do not turn up?
No.2: Who is the paying customer? Who gives the bouncers the right to rudely and roughly push us around? Uncle, who you think is providing the money for your monthly salary?!
No.3: If you are so blardy rich, why don't you buy your own club? And run it the way you want?
No.4 : And if you are SO great just cos you work at Zouk, wait, why do you have to WORK at Zouk? What are the chances that your waitress/bouncer/door bitch/floor manager salary is way below mine? Blardy bitch asses.
(I do not look down on people because of their jobs. But if you piss me off, be prepared to have me spit in your face.)

Yes, I am pissed. I am pissed because people somehow adopt this perangai buruk everytime they work in a place which is considered "happening" or "THE spot in town". They look down on you, they rudely tell you "if you're not on the list, go line up there!", or they ignore your calls for them to replenish drinks, they push you around if you're in the way. What? Your mother never taught you any manners issit?!Sepak kang.

Note to self: Stay home. All the hassle and the bad manners, horrendous dressing, arrogant displays are way too much and so unworthy!

And p/s: Since when do children who look 16 and dress like they are 25 began swarming the clubs?

I feel so old.

Speak to my hand

Today is the day that you talk to my hand.

Because the heart is much too hurt to speak back.

Do not say you're sorry. Do not tell me you know how I feel. Do not mention you will never do it again. Do not promise me this will be the last.

No more you miss me. No more you wish I were there with you.

Because today is the day you speak to my hand.

And the hand does not give a shit what you have to say.

I just want to be happy.

What is it about my future that sends everyone into spins?

Dad has to pull my sister aside to engage in serious "future plans" talk with sis.
Cousins tell my dad about how hard it will be should I venture down that path.
Friends ask about my big plans and whether I would be doing the unthinkable or not.

All these whisperings behind my back has caused me sleepless nights.

All these fears have caused shouting matches with family.

All these worries have made me lose some friends.

And at the end of the day, I guess nobody sat down to ask me,

"ARE YOU HAPPY?"

Because truly I am. If only anyone cared enough to take time to know.

Yes, I worry about the future. I think about the what ifs. I fear for the unknown. And I have hesitations, worries and doubts. Sometimes I push them aside. Sometimes I sit down and think about it. But most times, I have discussed it with people who matter most to me and who are willing to open up their ears and their hearts to listen. If only.

I am blessed that at least my siblings have my back.

I truly do not know what I will do in the future.

I am arming myself with knowledge. I am arming myself with experience at work. Because at the end of the day, I do not want to be here any longer than I have to. I do not want to live here to be judged and ridiculed.

If my parents cannot support me or my decisions, I do not know how others can or will.

So I have stopped asking for it.

If you're with me, thanks.
If you're not, I understand. You can tell your worries to others. You can unload your fears to someone else. I understand.

Now if only you could also understand in turn what I ultimately want right now.

I just want to be happy.

Are you sure you're not some other person?

As I swiped my gym card at the gym entrance the other day, the lady at the front desk, glanced at the computer.
She then asked me " You are Corinne right?"

I shook my head and told her I wasn't.

"But you look like her!"
"Yes, I have been told I look like her. But I am not her."
(Apparently I have a face that people like to say resembles another. So much for being unique.)


"ARE YOU SURE?"(said ala "adakah anda pasti?" in who wants to be a millionaire? hosted by whatshisname who also endorses rice? I forget.)

Now, who asks a person whether they are sure that they are not somebody else???

Of course I am sure I am NOT Corinne. The last I checked, I have yet to morph into somebody else.

I looked at her and said "Yeah, I am PRETTY sure I am not her."

Still she persisted with a perplexed look.

"But last week when you came in, I said HI CORINNE!"
"Did you? I'm sorry, I don't remember."

Right now, my panties are already beginning to get into a bunch because I HATE to be late for my class and what more being made to be late due to a senseless, time wasting, conversation.

So I just said, "Nope, not me."

STILL she persisted.

"Are you her friend?" Like as though this would automatically make it more plausible that I am ACTUALLY Corinne, but disguised as someone else.

"No, I am not technically her FRIEND. But I know OF her."
(silently chanting: please god, let her stop talking so I can go.)

Seriously. Doesn't it just make you want to rush over to the other person and snap their necks whenever they doubt the fact that you say you're not who you are???

*_*

Over lunch one day, the BF's good friend's new girlfriend (wow, what a mouthful) looked at me and said " You look Thai."

I have been mistaken for a lot of different races. Only this ONE taxi uncle who acknowledge me as a Malaysian.

He said " Ah, *pointing at my friend* you nampak macam dari Korea. Tapi you punya kawan *points at me* nampak orang Malaysia la."

Friend then retorts "Apa pasal, dia Malaysia saya Korea? Dua-dua pun orang Malaysia-ma."

His simple reason was :

"You punya mata MANYAK sepet. Sepet punya mata orang korea punya. You punya kawan mata kurang sepet. Malaysia tak adak banyak sepet sepet la. Kecuali itu manyak Cina punya. Atau datang dari itu Jepun atau Korea. Sepet."

Ah bless him.

Looks like there is hope for me yet. I am officially "kurang sepet".