Maids? No thanks!

As I type this, there is a cleaning lady outside my room, mopping and wiping and dusting and sweeping any visible surface area within her reach. When she first entered, I was seated on the living room floor, happily munching away on my Subway breakfast while watching a Singaporean drama on 8TV. Words can’t even describe the awkwardness I felt as I sat there, chilling and feeling completely at home while this small, young lady hummed away, arranging all the food and containers left so recklessly on the dining table after breakfast.

As rude and self-centred as this may sound, it felt a little as though my personal space was intruded.

There is always this awkward moment where I pause to wonder: Okay, there is a person cleaning my house now – what am I suppose to do? Do I pick up that piece of rubbish over there? Do I continue sitting here, ignoring her? Do I offer help? Nah. That’d be weird. Do I go and hide in my room then? Wait, would that be too rude? Aaarrggghhh!!

I was really enjoying myself with the TV during my “alone time”. It kinda feels a bit like home; as in Kuching home. And then this came and I eventually chose to retire back into my room.

And to make the awkward situation even more awkward, right after I entered the bathroom, she came in just in time to start cleaning the toilet. So barely relieved, I exited because I was feeling too pai seh.

I don’t think I will ever get a maid in the future. =(

Conversations

I think one of the things that I really miss about high school is the ease of how conversations flow. The simplicity of it all, coupled with the fact that every sentence uttered could send me into fits of laughter – it seems that some of it has evaporated into thin air, lost forever. Now, all that is left is the occasional chatting sessions about things that fail to etch into my mind and the occasional strange feeling of kiri keluar. Most of the time, days go by so indifferently that I don’t even recall what I have laughed about, or whether I’ve even laughed at all (though I’m sure I have, but what did I laugh over – that is the million dollar question).

But I think that makes all the small comforts and familiarity that surface in the most random of instances even more precious. :D

Like on Holy Thursday, I went back with Ashley and enjoyed a home cooked meal of eggs, sausages and lo bak. We talked about hokkien (yes, hokkien!) and other unimportant things. I cannot quite remember but it was a jolly good time especially when Katryne joined us later and asked the lamest question of all:

“Ashley! Where is the on button for your laptop!”

HAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHA. (Yes, Katryne, I know you stalk me now. :D)

And yesterday, on Easter Vigil, I was in the choir for mass. FYI, we’re a really small group of choir so I think we bonded really well. There are only 6 girls, 4 guys, 1 organist and 1 guitarist. But Father said we did awesome so I shall bask in that compliment. Hehe.

Anyway, some of the witty conversations from mass and the dinner later on at KFC, SS15. :D (how I miss when I have conversation snippets to post up! *tear!* :’D)

Nancy: Kim, can you save a seat for Samson?

Me: You don’t have to tell her. She saved for him since long ago dy. Hahahaha.

*3 mins later*

Me: Actually she saved 2 seats. One there, one here *points to heart*.

Nancy: OH! Mmmm! *nods wisely while laughing*

*********

Martin: *goes on and on about Foochows* Foochows are scary! Ask him, he’s Foochow!

Alistair: I’m Teochew!

Martin: … Never mind! You know in Sibu, Foochows are everywhere.

Me: He’s from Kuching.

Martin: … Same thing! Anyway, Foochows are scary! Etc… Etc…

Me: How many of you think that Martin is jealous of Foochow?

*everybody puts up their hands*

LOL! And the even more golden moment:

Me: Do you secretly wish you’re Foochow?

Martin: ………..

And everyone bursts out laughing. Hahahaahaha!

Martin does a really good impersonation of Justin Bieber btw! And Alistair does a really good impersonation of Martin. They even sang a mash up of Rebecca Black’s Friday with Bieber’s Baby. Can die! Hahaha.

Martin: Marsel’s hair is like Justin Bieber’s hair la.

Jeanne: Marsel! Comb your hair down a bit.

Marsel: *combs*

Us: Eh? Correct side ah?

Alistair: Correct, correct. It’s right side.

Marsel: Why? Justin Bieber is it? *quickly shoves all his hair up*

To end:

Me: I like your vest!

Alistair: It’s gay. *shows the purple interior of his vest*

Chances

Yesterday, as I flipped through The Star newspaper which one of my housemates brought home, I accidentally reached the page of the obituary. I don’t normally read obituaries. But for some inexplicable reasons, I decided to take a look at the page. I mourned for the death of a very professional looking doctor, noted his relatives and read a short description about him. Then I looked at the box next to his and the name struck as familiar. I felt certain that I had seen that surname somewhere before.

As it turned out, it was the father of a friend. I have met the father. I had gone to church with him when I went to visit my friend. He had driven me to church and to other places, together with his daughter. I had seen his house. He was younger than my parents. And he passed away on my 19^th birthday.

As I had birthday songs sung to me, complete with cakes and Indo Mee and Rocky, somewhere at the other end of Peninsula Malaysia, there was mourning. The entire situation feels so paradoxical; life and death occurring at the same time. I have always felt that birthdays should not be celebrated out of obligation, but rather out of a genuine gratitude of the presence of the person in our lives. If I celebrate someone’s birthday, it would be out of the fact that I am sincerely grateful for the impact that he or she has left in me.

So when I link my thoughts to death, I honestly feel that birthdays as a celebration of life should carry far more meaning that the conventional, highly publicised form that birthdays have taken. In a funeral’s eulogy, one often likes to reminisce the moments spent with the deceased, having once taken for granted that there would be more moments to come. Sometimes we think: What if there isn’t? Surely it is impossible to live like we’re dying because if I am, I won’t bother to get anything done. But perhaps it would do a lot of good if we can remember the value of life as it is; to look past the inadequacies and flaws of human nature and raise a glass to our imperfections and the chance given in the form of time to improve ourselves.

Not meant to be

Tick tock, tick tock, goes the clock

On the wall while my thoughts run amok,

Another bead of perspiration formed,

Another genuine effort – gone;

What went wrong?

I ask, feeling ever so forlorn.

Left right, left right, the shuttlecock flies,

Near and far, high and low, gravity it defies,

I watched the moves of expert hands,

Yet each time the shuttlecock lands?

I can but gape

In awe, feeling like a sour grape.

In out, in out, I walk of this hapless place,

Seeking, praying, to see a familiar face,

And then perhaps I’ll find that sudden desire,

That genius spark of an idea

To prove my worth –

No, not to you, but to myself.

Yet even as optimism goes

And efforts undeterred I tried to show,

The numbers in red? In full I seldom have,

And those smashes in court? I never did save.

And so sometimes I think it’s easier just to be

Complacent with what’s been bestowed on me.

Flaws, defects and all, I will come to accept;

After all, they all came in a package!

If neither brains nor limbs

Nor strength nor whims

Could I compete, then perhaps being legendary

Is just not meant to be –

It just ain’t a part of my destiny.

Shallow things

I have just finished reading some of the smelliest rubbish anyone can ever dream to utter in public on online newspapers. As both a Catholic and a feminist, I almost had a heart attack when I saw the headlines on Malaysian Insider about certain quotes one of our leaders has spoken. Thank God I am young and my heart with all its arteries and veins, still in its childish state of ignorance, did not rupture at the sight of such preposterous nonsense.

So to distract myself from such anger, I shall instead talk about my wonderful experience of having a roommate. It has been more than 10 years since I’ve shared a room with anybody so I have had to readjust some of my habits (cough keeping my table clean cough). But there is always a silver lining. I think the best part about having a roommate is being able to talk and do all the nonsense in the world with and to somebody, like my playing a trick on her last week. :D

She texted me early in the morning, telling me that she had forgotten to take her keys out of her room and asked when I was going to go back. I replied that I would be back after lunch but after my class ended, I decided to sent another text to her (10 cents, I figured, was definitely worth the fun!) saying that I had also forgotten my keys. :P

Then she called and sounding so extremely calm on the phone, asked me to request extra keys from the management. She sounded too calm so I decided to continue with the plan. As I got back to my unit, I purposely set my bags down in the living room and began to do my homework on the dining table until she got back from her classes.

Siew Chee: Eh? Management didn’t open the door for us?

Me: For security purposes, they needed some procedure to open the door. Can only have it opened later in the evening.

Siew Chee: Haaaaaaaa!

As she went to call for tips about how to unlock a locked door, I slipped into my room and locked the door again. Taking her keys from her table and slipping them out of room via the small gap underneath the door, I sat on my bed and waited. :D

Siew Chee: Eh? How come my keys are on the floor?

*opens door*

Me: :D

Siew Chee: *smacks*

Too bad it wasn’t April’s Fool Day. Dang.

And today I waged a war against Yi Hui and Pit Yung. We threw stuff into each other’s room through the air con hole on our walls. Hahahaha. I threw a MAS Airline plastic knife over and they threw sample shampoo and mechanical pencil in return. Lol! T’was great fun.

Ain’t the world a better place if we all live like kids?

On a side note, I learnt some defense martial arts skill from Benignus the other day after choir. I feel so accomplished now. =D

Change

I have never really been good with changes.

I suppose it will be safe to say that I am content with status quo. I don’t like things to change once I’ve got used to it. I don’t like to leave a place where I’ve found a sense of belonging. I didn’t want to leave KY when I got the scholarship. I didn’t want to leave Casa Subang when I was asked to relocate. And I definitely didn’t want to hand in my termination form for Sun-U Residence when I’ve not even lived there for 2 weeks!

All these changes are, inevitably, followed by a minor sense of loss. I always feel that something vital is left behind whenever something changes and so, to help me cope, I often spend the first few days after a change trying to grab and recover whatever is left. I spent my Raya in Terengganu with Esther last year because I hoped to not forget the friends that I have made in KY. I went back to Casa for cell group because I didn’t want to leave the comfort of my Casa Subang mates.

Yet very often, after a few weeks of groping in the dark and readjusting, I get used to the new surroundings and things get back to normal again. I complained about the sad state of our living room couches but I fell asleep on one of them for 5 hours and woke up without a back pain. I complained about the smell of the toilet that enters my room (because my room is right opposite the toilet) but… well, I haven’t yet found an optimistic view for that besides having the opportunity to criticize my roommate’s extremely sensitive nose because she always detects the smell before I do. Without a doubt, where I am staying now, I get more work done because (Praise the Lord!) I have a big study table and shelves. I no longer have to squeeze with 6 other housemates on a dining table meant for four to do my work. I get more laundry done too, thanks to mankind’s brilliant creation of a washing machine.

The fact is that, maybe some things are meant to change. Perhaps some things will get better if they have changed. Maybe Sarawak will change for the better if a change happens in this state election. We all like to keep some things constant – it’s human nature to resist change – but I think we will never know what is better until we are willing to move away from our comfort zone. Then perhaps we will realize that we have never really been comfortable after all in that old position.

Amanda, in reply to early lamentations about my relocation, sent her sympathy but assured me that “even if you don’t get the best things, you will always make the best out of what you have.” In relation to our nation’s current events, I think that while it is good that we can make the best out of what have been given to us, how come none ever stop to wonder: why don’t I deserve better?

People often tell me that at my age, a lot of changes are going to take place. Despite the numerous amounts of changes that have occurred in my life thus far, I am still not used to the process. However, in the midst of it all, I have realized this: changes are not always bad. Sure, we are afraid that things may take a turn for the worse, but if we don’t take a chance, we will never know if things could have been better. I don’t believe that mistakes cannot be repaired. If the Middle East can change their faces of politics, I don’t think a lot of things are impossible anymore. Besides, with God, I have come to believe that nothing will ever be too unlikely – like praying for the rain to stop and seeing it really stopping before my very eyes. Therefore, probably for the first time, I will pray for a change.