Meet the family!

That's Vladimir (laptop) and Trotsky (hard disk, also future dog's name), and once I ran out of names of Russian people I admire, I named my iPod ... Stefani Joanne Angelina Germanotta.

When I get my Blackberry, I am naming it Guacamole. And if I can't find my Blackberry and I launch into frantic search for it, going WHERE IS MY GUACAMOLE, people will think I'm looking for this:

WHERE IS MY GUACAMOLE?!?!?!?

My plan is foolproof.

Meanwhile, my World Cup journey continues...

I swear paying RM99 to get that printed on the back of my RM256 jersey is worth it just for this moment.

Having friends means having people paint stripes on their faces when you do so you won't look stupid alone.

The closest I could get to a sex tape.

Three more goals, baby, three more until you break the national record. In fewer games.

So long as Spain does not get knocked out tonight.

I speak their language, I eat their food, I sleep with their men and now ... I support their football team.

Next World Cup: RUSSIA! Just qualify, goddamnit.

Seven perfect birthday presents for me.

Because birthdays are that one time of the year when you can take gifts without feeling guilty, so here is my list.

Three years ago, this list would have seemed very different. I would have asked for clothes, make-up, jewelry ... all that. Two years ago, this list would have been non-existent because I was turning 18, crying in my room on my birthday, not wanting to come out and face the world a year older. I tried to hide my birthday, but some idiot went HAPPY BIRTHDAY on Facebook and ruined it all. Those same idiots (my best friends) came over with a USA-themed birthday cake, not willing to let me celebrate my 18th birthday with nothing, and that was my celebration. A year ago, I think all I wanted for birthday was this guy in Portugal. Stupid fool. (Me, not him.)

So this year, I'm turning the big ... two-oh.

Are you sure I can't just stay in my room and cry again?

Okay whatever. Where was I. Big two-oh. Birthdays being the time to ask for gifts. Right.

The best way to buy presents for a person like me is to know my interests. I have a long list, but they basically include: writing, reading, men, alcohol at the right time, (I must point out now that this is not in any particular order) talking crap, thinking crap, blogging sometimes, history (particularly Russian, communism, war, inspiring historical figures, American presidents - err not necessarily the same thing as inspiring historical figures), watching football, my favorite countries are Spain, Russia and Vietnam, open to arts and music if they're good, my favorite authors are Vladimir Nabokov, Oscar Wilde and Albert Camus and ... buying crap I don't need (people call this shopping) also at the right time. Not an encompassing list, but close.

So, according to that, it should be easy to buy me a gift, right? Right. Here's the list:

7. A military uniform.

This one's of a volunteer of the Blue Division of Spain.

Reason: Military uniforms contain a lot of history of the country in those badges, stars and sleeves. Perfect for a history buff like me! And imagine how nice that would look displayed. AND I get to wear it for Halloween! Serves meaningful, aesthetic AND handy purposes, all at the same time! I swear to dress up as a soldier for Halloween this year. It is my duty to.

Bonus points to whoever gets me this.

Wait shouldn't I be asking for men in army uniform...

6. Books.

Reason: I can never have enough to read, which is bad because books are expensive.

Let's be honest, unless I can somehow paste books all over myself and pass it as fashion, books are pretty useless aesthetically. As a woman, I'm inclined to only spend money on things with an aesthetic purpose. What's more I can easily borrow a book and achieve the same understanding of life and whatnot once I've finished reading them.

I read pretty much all good books, and find some way to appreciate them. The next few on my list are Life of Pi, Heart of Darkness, Dr Fautus, On the Road, Fight Club, and I want to finish reading Michel Tournier's The Ogre and Steinbeck's Grapes of Wrath which I borrowed but had to return.

This is to what extent I'm a nerd btw. Do not be fooled by the partying and drunk nights. You know how people play games on Facebook, like Farmville, Restaurant City and all that? I play one too. It's called Visual Bookshelf.

My fun meter just went below negative.

5. A big dog

Reason: I don't like the small ones, I prefer big ones. I am aware I cannot carry them in a handbag, but it's okay. Seems like a pretty normal present, eh? But there's a catch:

It won't be my dog.

With me leaving for the States in a month and my mom having an aversion to dogs, I can't possibly have one now. But I want one I can play with and look after and take for a walk, just not after one month. And even after I get my own place, I don't know. My very pressing question is: when I bring men home, what do I do with my dog?!?!?!

4. Alcohol from duty-free areas.

Reason: Smirnoff for RM35, Malibu for RM45, Vodka for RM40++ what more can you ask for. I had my first taste of duty free, now there's no return. And because pre-drinks before a night out are the best!

Reason #2: Had to salvage my fun meter a bit.

3. AK-47. (And alternatives)

Reason: Erm ... I don't know my excuse for this. But it's a piece of Russian history, and I want that in my house!

Okay there are alternatives to a classic Russian artillery, and this is going to be easier to get (or not):

RED STAR-SHAPED HAMMER AND SICKLE PILLOWS!!!!!!!!!!!!! IS THIS NOT THE COOLEST THING IN THE WORLD!!!!!! (Pics taken at the USSR restaurant in Langkawi, which I'll blog about soon!)

Again perfect deco for a house! Those pillows will fit with my sofa!!! Boy my house is going to look so outlandish.

Where do you buy things like that?? I also want those little Lenin head dolls! How's my fun meter doing right now.

2. A travel ticket to any of my favorite countries I've mentioned (Spain, Russia and Vietnam), I would also like to see Germany, Cuba and North Korea. I would also like to come back in one piece and not be thrown into jail under accusation of spreading communism into my country. I am also not Chin Peng's granddaughter. (My History teacher warned me people might think I am.) (I hope he was joking.)

PS - And a step-by-step manual on how to obtain visas for those countries please. -_- Such a pain.

Reason: Travel is a good teacher! It'll be an experience of a lifetime.

1. And now, for the most awesome birthday present ever, which will beat any other birthday present, the one that I want the most. Ever. In the world.

.

.

.

.

.

It'll bring me happiness more than any man can.

.

.

.

.

.

I want

.

.

.

.

.

A tank.

I am not joking. Do you need a license for one?

Reason: Dude, it's a tank. What other reason do you need.

I want that baby, in my backyard.

I WANT A TANK SO BAD.

So yeah, these are the seven perfect birthday presents for me. Seven, because I'm in football mood and 7 is legend in football. Perfect, because they fulfill my intellectual, aesthetic and alcoholic needs. Birthday presents, because they give me an excuse to talk about the things I like.

Which is really all this post is about. Don't go hunting down a military uniform for me. If you're ugly, I still won't sleep with you.

I want to come home.

I have no intention of staying in America after my studies. But I think in my dad's mind I'm already there with a husband, two kids and a dog, on my way to obtaining a citizenship, like all those Mexican immigrants I see on TV shows.

He has asked me countless times if I want to stay in America, and I've always said no. Sometimes it was "No Dad, I like Malaysia. I'll come back." or "No Dad, this is my home. I'm coming back." or sometimes just, "No. Yeuck." (I don't really know what the last one means as well, but I had to try something new.)

But it's true. I know America's great, and Malaysia isn't, and pretty much living anywhere else on earth would be better, but it's too late. I have some home-based ambitions already (damn those ambitions, they ruin everything) and if I don't come back, it's just going to feel like unfinished business.

I know our country has flaws, it's basically an island of backwardness in a sea of progress, but that's even more the reason to come back and do something. Or at least try. (Once I saw Dr. Mahatir in KLCC and I wanted to approach him for a photo, but my friend stopped me, saying his bodyguards won't let me, and then we left. I was so fucking pissed because he didn't even bother trying. I wanted to at least try and approach one of my favorite Prime Ministers and get rejected by the bodyguards themselves, not by my friend's stupid assumption. I don't know the point of this long-winding story but basically from that day onwards I vowed to always try.)

I know New York will be great, and New York City will single-handed kill my ambitions (probably conceived while I was shitting too) with its artistic energy and pleasing power. And when I think of Malaysia from my college dorm I'll think of our public transport, police force and sports achievement - not fondly like a Maxis ad, but like a really bad movie.

I know all that. I'm not blind to our flaws. If countries were movies I swear our main actors are Keanu Reeves and Keanu Reeves. The same fucking thing over and over again.

"Watching Keanu Reeves act is like watching a tree grow." - My English teacher.

Replace "Watching Keanu Reeves act" with "Watching Malaysia advance intellectually" and you get the idea.

I don't know why this turned out to be a bashing Malaysia post but okay.

My point is, I love KL. (No that wasn't my point but I lost track of what I was blogging about so that's my point.) Strangely the more time I spend overseas, the more love I feel for my country. Not in a omg-I-love-the-retarded-public-transport-here way, but in a "Wow I really miss home" way. This is KL, my home, as crappy as it is. Everytime someone asks me why I want to come back, I just go, "Well, it's home." and I can see their faces soften up a little. (And then I launch into a whole speech about my unfinished business here and they regret asking.)

If that's the only thing that binds me to my country, then so be it. The biggest upset I have with Malaysia is not the physical things I've mentioned, but more of the mindset of the nation. I long for a nation that can think on its own, have the guts to speak their mind and likewise accept differing views and develop a passion for something, just anything in their life.

Now I'm rambling and you regret reading. I still have this one point about the Malaysian education .............

Sure, I'd love to live in NYC among the art, culture and dynamics of a city like that, but you know what'd be more amazing? Bringing that dynamics back to your own country, and rebuilding it in your own image. And KL is not a completely gone case, it has the potential and that is slowly being brought out.

So yes, I want to come back. I want to come home. At the present moment, that's how I feel. Let's hope that doesn't change after four years.

Because this needs to look like an Asian girl's blog.

No pictures? Blasphemy! I am slowly starting to lose the very essence of my roots and heritage ...

Too long since my last self-shot camwhore pic ... I ought to be ashamed. The very foundation of my BIRTHRIGHT is shaken.

My World Cup journey thus far ...

Watched the opening match at Changkat.

At Pinchos! Where everybody knows everybody.

With Michelle and Roberto! Our best attempt at a group shot ...

Taking La Furia Roja to Perth! ... where I witnessed their ridiculous loss to Switzerland, crawled into depression for a day or two and was brightened by the almighty Germany's loss to Serbia :)

What can I say, misery loves company.

I love Australia. Australia is awesome.

I got up at 8.30am today (earlier than any day on this holiday without my mom having to bang on my door with her bare fists ... family bonding is obviously going well), walked for God knows how far to the nearest McD (but I love walking, no problem), ordered a cup of coffee, sat my ass down so I can update this to you:

So you know how I ended the last post all unhappy and saying I’m vulnerable hence I need to learn to feel?

Well I used this trip as a time to mull over things for a bit, which is really not hard considering all there is to see here is TREES, TREES and more TREES, and I came up with a conclusive course of action … for now.

And that is, to fuck. This. Shit.

What the hell am I talking about? I don’t want feelings. Not even if it is to fall down, pick myself up again and to learn a lesson from it.

So my course of action is, apparently, to keep living the way I did. The same talking, eating, shitting and copulating machine that I was. I know this may be familiar to some of you, and it does seem like an endless ping-pong game with my fate, and I can’t guarantee that the game is about to wrap up for good anytime soon, but that’s life. You'll never know when you're truly comfortable with who you are, and you'll keep finding out new things and doubts in life, but you'll know you're more comfortable now than you were a year ago.

As I was vacillating before, whether I will plaster up my wound by succumbing to it or fortifying it, I happily choose the latter. The bouncing ping-pong stops here for now. The next time I’m wounded, I’ll heal the way I’ve always been healed: by time.

Some things you need to see in retrospect, but I’ve seen enough to know how this one will turn out. Nothing more than a spot of error that can be glossed over in time.

And you wanna know what made me reach this conclusive course of action?

First, I was sick of feeling so normal, dealing with feelings and all that non-existent crap. That's just not me. After a while I just felt like throwing up on myself. I was obviously doing it for the sake of doing it. I'm the girl who scoffs at people like that, I'm the person everyone goes to because my depravity makes them feel better about themselves, I'm everyone's shiny beacon. Admit it.

And the more definite factor being...

Australia + World Cup = THE WORLD IS MY FUCKING CANDY STORE.

Both a realization and a reminder that I will bring home to KL. See Twitter for more details? Over and out! :)

You know that I could use somebody.

I was watching the first match of the World Cup the other day in a bar. It was the best place to be watching a match. The bar was packed, the atmosphere was great, drinks were coming, chairs were lined and filled, I was surrounded by happy faces, including my own ... but today it hits me that I was not happy then, and I'm probably not happy now either.

Everyone puts up a mask, of course, it's nothing new, but I don't see what's the point of a mask if it reveals more than it's supposed to conceal.

I'm not happy ... whoever is out there. God? Albert Camus? Okay Albert, I'm not happy. Really. I confess to you now. I'm only doing this so I would feel better because confessions are supposed to make you feel better. I'm not happy. I don't know what it is that I'm not happy with, and I'm afraid if I looked deeper I might find some things I don't wanna know about myself.

Anyway I don't see the point in finding out something so ... fleeting. It seems like once I pinpoint what I'm unhappy about, and I try to fix things, the next week I'll probably be unhappy about something else I can't get. That's my fucking problem: I'm always wanting things just because I can't have them, not because I really want them.

And so I never really know what I want, just things I don't want.

Well ... I don't want to be running around anymore. I'm so sick of it. It seems like all I'm ever doing in my life is running and waiting. I was sitting on the same fucking taxi stand last night, like I did before, and I just realize the TIME I've spent just waiting ... for people, for calls, for messages, for things to happen, for decisions to be made, most of the time my own. Either that or I'm always running away from past mistakes, today's mistakes, mistakes I'm about to make, or running after things that I'm not even sure I want.

I've spent my whole life making things around me disposable, so I would form no attachment with them, but the one time I reach for the metal fork, I fuck up. Someone once told me he thinks I play a character, that this is a role I play, and the more I write on this blog, the more I believe in my character. I told him he has just never seen someone so comfortable with herself that it's hard for him to believe it.

I'm still the same person that I was ever since I chose this road. Still the same beliefs, still the same way of life, still that single-loving, free-thinking bitch ... except unhappy now. Not with the road I chose per se, but the misleading signs along the way.

The problem with a personality so huge is sometimes you wish someone was there at the border, keeping it in check, someone capable, like how (for lack of a better example) an unstoppable force meets an immovable object, someone to ... tame you, if that would provide you a better picture. Just to know you can be stopped.

I think my mask got made for me three months ago, on March 26th, and I only officially put it not too long ago. I really don't know what I want anymore, except I've never really known what I wanted ... but I guess when something I could want is dangled in front of me, and then taken away, I start to want that thing. (Not a person per se, but just ... the idea of a person.)

Cindy once said that someone catches her even before she trips, so how can she fall. I just want someone strong enough to push me. I was neither here nor there, and that just leaves too much room for questions and what-could-have-beens.

I guess I'm unhappy because a recent experience made me learn something about myself: that I'm weak. When faced with an unfamiliar human condition (say, developing feelings for someone - don't ask me how, I was careless?), I turn into a blubbering mess (more than usual, I mean) because I just don't know how to respond accordingly. I wasn't programmed to do so. I was programmed to eat and drink and sleep and fuck and read and write and think and shit, but I wasn't programmed to feel.

So I want to feel. I don't want to run away from feelings any longer, or wait for the next disposable fork to turn up. I want to learn how to feel, so I can emerge from it - not as a different person but as the same, single-loving bitch, except bigger, better and stronger.

I want to be able to love someone, and leave them the next day. I want to be able to get over someone in a short amount of time. I want to be able to use my feelings to my advantage, not completely disown them like unwanted children.

So, Albert, I don't know. What do you want me to do. I'm all out of ways. I give up. You can do whatever you want with my life, fuck things up, throw whatever my way... I can never feel anything for anyone, so that's a lost dream in itself. I used to laugh at girls who are weak because they easily develop feelings, but I realize I'm just the same, only at the other end of the pole. They're weak because they can feel, I'm weak because I cannot.

I'm done running or waiting aimlessly if I can't find meaning in what I'm chasing for anymore. Before, fucking new people felt like - laugh if you must - an art to me. Everyone likes beautiful things and I'm no exception. I like beautiful people.

But you know what adds beauty to a painting? The story behind it, the values it represents, the self-expression it contains and its own personal value. If I find that, and then I'll feel.

I'm unhappy, knowing a part of me is exposed - left vulnerable to future attacks. I need to patch it up quick - whether by succumbing or by fortifying. This band-aid of a mask can only hold it there for so long.

Logomania...

...Where Common Phrases Come From and How to Use Them is the latest book by Ellen Whyte. I first got to know Ellen through her column in The Star, Katz Tales. She's a big lover of cats, particularly her own, and the last time we met she just ran around Subang looking for some very specific cat food! (Her cats are very picky.) (Actually come to think of it most cats are.)

Anyway I'm here to talk about her latest book, Logomania, a very fun-filled book in itself.

The book, as the blurb tells us, "delves into the meaning and history of over 400 English phrases". Perfect for people who are obsessed with words and phrases, like me!

Whenever I use phrases like "clothes do not make a man" (not true), or call someone a shmuck (my brother, usually followed by a smack across his head) or opening Pandora Box (when you try to wake my friend Ana up prematurely) ... I'm always curious of its origins! With this book I found out shmuck is a vulgar slang for penis in Yiddish (sorry brother =O), clothes do not make a man is also the main plot of a Narnia book and Pandora is actually the first woman created by Zeus, and there's a very interesting Greek legend behind it!

If you're interested in the OTHER first woman created by God, there's also something about Adam and Eve (which apparently means to believe), or if you're interested in Greek legends, there's a whole section dedicated to it!

Like I said, it's a really fun-filled book with lots of information in it! When I first started reading it I just couldn't put it down because it's so addictive to know more and more meanings of words/phrases that I'm using everyday. The stories behind them give you insight into legends, history, fable, literature, media, pop culture, football even ... just a lot of worldly knowledge.

That's why the English language is just beautiful. Someone disagreed with me that the English language is the best to write in (he thinks it's a shame I can only write in English ... but well he's Spanish), and I disagree back. Strongly. There are so many words in the English language, and just learning their origins give you so much knowledge about the world.

My favorite section of the book:

Speaking in Tongues! That's the origin of Lolita right there, from my favorite book by Nabokov.

It also houses words derived from different countries, languages and cultures, featuring a whole sub-section on French words that we see often but never quite understood (nom de nom?????????) and one from the United Kingdom as well!

All in all, it's a fun little informative book, perfect for those looking for light reading at the beach or at home, or some fun to share with friends! (Personally I also like it because it makes me a little smarter, and gives me fodder for discussion at parties. Yes I like talking about things like these at parties I'm such a geek ... no wonder I don't have a boyfriend.) Ellen's style is also simple and straightforward, making it a pleasure to read.

Get this book at all bookstores now, or order it online at MPH, Times Malaysia and Kinokunyia!

Don't know who to support for the World Cup?

Let me help you.

Spain.

One man, one motorcycle, 1Malaysia.

Never thought I would be using that word until today.

But one person really inspired me to do that, and his name is Syed Hadi.

In April, one soul from Malaysia decides to do ... the craziest thing any Malaysian has done in a while, and with a purpose. He takes his Modenas bike ...

... and his savings of RM40 000 and rides from KL to London, solo.

A friend told me about him (this was his uncle) when I was in Langkawi, and I was just utterly amazed. This really casts doubts on my view that Malaysians are incapable of thinking outside the box, because this is clearly thinking 26 countries AWAY from the box. On a motorcycle. Which he fixes and maintains on his own. (He also does his own laundry, might I add, and I think that is a bigger achivement than the motorcycle for a guy.)

It was also a personal awe for me because, as I've mentioned a while back before, I've also wanted to travel by all modes of transport of land (and also by sea, but lesser by air) through Europe and Asia, but I was doing it more for myself and hoping I'd get kick-ass writing material out of it. But this man is doing it for his country!

Syed Hadi is riding for peace and unity, and with everything he'll ever need, carried on that bike. He used to blog on his Lenovo, but it broke and their international warranty fucked him over, then he tried uploading photos through internet cafes but had a virus problem ... I know. Not only is he crazy, he is terribly unlucky. And it's just sad that no one is giving him the support and attention he needs.

We always talk about wanting to motivate Malaysians to work towards building an advanced nation, and this is courage and creativity, right here, traits you need for a strong foundation, traits that can inspire others to do the same, and no one is giving him the support he needs?! Bullshit.

No one is even sponsoring him, not even Modenas and definitely not Lenovo. He has to blog and take photos from his Blackberry. I was shocked that I've never even heard of him until a few days ago, and I am relatively up to date with the local scene. This guy should be the talk of the town! Forget whatever strife is going on within the government, that'll be around forever... THIS guy is just fodder for discussion!

So here I am, to spread the message around. This inspiring Malaysian can be found at several online locations.

Read his blog at: http://iamalaysian.com/project-i-am-malaysian/

Follow him at: http://twitter.com/hadihussien

Like him at: http://www.facebook.com/pages/I-Am-Malaysian/109858005704464

This one heck of a crazy rider needs your support! Because who knows, one day that person inspiring a whole nation could be you.

Langkawi is beautiful.

I'm sitting in some internet place, waiting for Langkawi to wake up. It's my last day here and I intend to use it for full relaxation. Shopping, spa, very tempting to write sex and make it alliterate but no.

I went to a fucking USSR restaurant here in Langkawi, with authentic Russian food. Needless to say I was so happy I could die. Plus a cute Russian waiter! That I will never see again :(

And yesterday I visited the Perdana Gallery, which houses gifts from other countries to our ex-PM, Mahatir, and I saw an AK-47 from Russia. I know it's like every day that passes my love for Russia becomes more entrenched. I swear to God one day I will dress up as a guy and live in Russia for three months (because if I were a girl I face the danger of being drugged, kidnapped, sold, raped and drugged again).

I don't know why I'm talking about that I'm supposed to be talking about Langkawi ... but anyway, really, such a beautiful place. I'm actually proud to be Malaysian now (er, not that I wasn't before *sheepish laugh*). Truly a hidden gem. It's really the little things that get to you. And yes I have photos.

On a sidenote, I AM FUCKING TRYING TO GET OVER SOMEONE. I KNOW. ME. CAN YOU BELIEVE IT? ME.

I really didn't plan for it. But it was only today that I realized I've been trying to do it. To be honest I really don't know how it's like ... it just feels weird. It's like I'm doing all these things, the world moves on, I'm getting drunk on the beach singing Champagne Supernova ... and then I feel this pang. And I try to rub it away, but it doesn't go, and I think about things that make me happy, and somehow they don't add up. I think the whole process, for me, is trying to convince myself that it is not true there will only be this one guy for me. So what if out of 15 guys only one knows how to sing the Soviet Union National Anthem like I do ... I'll just date History teachers from now on. There you go.

It really sucks that I don't want a relationship, because I think I'd be awesome in one. And sometimes I really wonder if I'm letting something good go.

Urgh okay being couped up inside here is getting to my head. I need to go out and be with people. My days in Langkawi either start with me passed out on someone's bed at 1pm or like this, at 9am, where I go for nice walks along the street.

The sun is shining, the beaches are warm, the water is awaiting ... Langkawi, ma jolie! (French, not Spanish.)