And I thought I was perfect

The period of my life I hated most was in primary school.

Me: I don't like myself back in primary school. I think I was proud and arrogant.
Friend X: . . . . . . haha, I kinda think so too.

Back then I was always the top in class and assistant to teachers so I was flying high. So high that I thought I was way up above as compared to the others.

I began to demand and insist on what I want, and in the process lost sight of reason and the need to be considerate.

I would head straight into verbal fights just to defend my point of view - no matter if it is right or wrong. I would boss people around thinking I was doing the best for them - no matter if that was their wish or not. I would do anything I want and still insist I was right - no matter if I knew I was wrong or not.

Tantrums were regular.

However, the turning point came on that very day I let down my pride and said my first voluntary SORRY to my Mum. Straight away without hesitation, she pulled me close and said, "Let's go for an American breakfast". It happened in front of Hotel Lutana.

The period of time in my life I regretted the most was in junior high school.

I was a total hormonal wreck, scrambled with self-esteem issues and too busy finding my calling, in one word - EMO.

I would fall into an endless cliff of depression - over nothing at all - before bouncing back to the sunshine land of hope and no pimples. But with me refering this as my dark age, you can pretty much guess that I was down hiding in those cliffs of depression 90% of the time.

Every single thing would tick me off - the way my Sis crossed her legs, no homework from school, the crowded school bus. Everyone seemed to hate me - I was not beautiful enough, not smart enough, not popular enough.

Unbeknownst to me, no one or nothing was out to get me at all. I was the one in attributing every failure and obstacles in life to other factors external of me, trying hard to escape from fault or blame.

People don't talk to me - they hate me. But did I attempt to be friendly?
My Sis makes me angry - she hates me. But I made her angry before too, right?
My family scolds me - they don't love me. But did I show love to them?
Bad luck haunts me - the world hates me. But did I open up my eyes to see the good things I have?

Again, the change came when my Mum confronted me outside of Hotel Sandakan after a yumcha session long of black face + silent treatment action from me to all my relatives. She asked me what was wrong and I seriously had no idea what was wrong but was not ready to back down.

It made me realise how much time I have wasted - being unhappy for nothing and ungrateful for what I had.

One word I remember clearly out of my Mum's mouth that day was "stubborn".

The period of time I reminisce the most about is my high school years.

Stripped out pride and growing out of my emo-ness, I made friends - really good ones. I have never been so happy.

I had people to confide to about my biggest mistakes, silliest moments and problems.
I had people to spend quality time with despite not doing anything at all.
I had people I can rely on and at the same time protect.

I reconnected with family members. Just by talking more, expressing more, opening up more, initiating more and really, by being myself.

For the first time I found myself.

I was not actually that shy, that much of a hermit, nor am I that serious and studious. I was also not that into textbooks and sketching sceneries.

I am actually quite talkative and have a love for wholesome gossip. I am also an energy bunny capable of ingenius jokes and sinister tricks (not harmful!). I am loyal to friends. I love having company and really being adventurous with people with the same mind. I love video games and Japanese music.

I realised that one discovers who he/she is only through interaction with others and experiences/lessons earned in the process.

When I was emo, I was merely lost and frustrated without an outlet to vent out to.

And I remember my Mum saying, "I think you are really starting to enjoy life now, I am glad."

The period of time in my life I cherish the most is my first year in Australia.

I came over a bubbly and naive person, totally oblivious to what the outside world held - not to mention living alone.

Homesickness pangs came and went but I cherish this part of my life because:-
I started really appreciating my family.
I learnt to take care of myself.
I built a network of friends equivalent to a new family unit in Melbourne.
I experienced independence and loved it.
I found love again and again, loved it.

Lucky me. I learnt to let go of pride before this so I daresay, I became more confident without letting myself be arrogant.

I realised I learnt this much when my Grandma bought me two pieces of mango cake from the pasar. She booked them before hand and made sure she did not de-shape the cakes. She then handed them to me and said they were the best and cheapest mango cakes ever. I have seen prettier and eaten tastier mango cakes before (easily anywhere) but none of them have tasted so beautiful before.

I really really miss my Grandmas now. :)

The period of my life I value most is my jobseeking phase.

I fell from grace to hell, from being ambitious to self doubts, from hopes and dreams to despair.

I had the worst interview ever before being given a golden opportunity.

I heard the most sarccastic and inconsiderate remarks but also received the best encouragements and support I am not even sure I deserve.

What I gained out of this experience is invaluable - humility, appreciation and some much-needed growing up.

***

Till this day, I am still as stubborn as ever. But I truly believe that I am much softer - at least by 30%? - than before.

I have done some bad decisions in life but also a fair share of good deeds.

I am still on my way to becoming a better person:-

- by rebuilding my confidence damaged during jobseeking.

- by improving my patience and soothing the stubborn monster inside.

- by listening more to others and being more accepting

- by believing in myself and also putting more trust in others

and ultimately,

- by promising to keep learning to become a better person.

Sunny BF-less Sunday

Hello look at the sun telling you that it is Sunday!

Melbyland has been surprisingly consistently sunny during the last few days! Totally befitting for Me who has been living out of a suitcase filled with new summer clothes from Malaysia.


I went out for a stroll with some of my girl friends. Just me with my trusty new BFF camera, long-time frenemy cash and also a good mood. *meditate - come, good mood, come*

I attempted to trim my own fringe the other day out of frustration and voila - multiple gaps along bangs! *ooom - good mood, stay*

Our first destination was to our favourite vintage market, Camberwell Market.

I still remember how we used to wake up early on Sunday just to catch the bus and then the tram alllllllll the way from Clayton to Camberwell. And go crazy.

And also the times we wake up way earlier, as in 4 a.m., to secure a spot to sell our treasures in the market!

Now, as crazy as we are about this market, we can drive allllll the way there while gossipping in the car about boyfriends and celebrities. Kinda amazing what 2 years do to you.

I love markets. Food market, organic market, art market. They are always lovely.

Some sights which brightened my day in Camberwell market.

People dancing on the street.

I am always impressed with people who can be so spontaneous as to dance right on the street with friends and strangers alike. I can never be so sporting and most importantly, I can't move my body right.

Random stuffs being sold.

This reminds me of my Grandma :-)

A poor dog getting tired of all the people and their shopping craze.

What more does a girl need to bring on a good mood other than shopping?

Food,of course.

In accordance to the 'vintage market shopping' feel we had for the day, we went for lunch at . . .

. . . a Hakka Restaurant. So mm ngam feel, right???

I am starting to love my camera! A bit heavy for my twigs of hands but definitely worth it when the pictures delight all of my equally vain friends :)

After that I dropped by Chaddie to do initiate a life-changing event. So major it is that I have to meditate again. *oooooommmmmm*

So there you go, a perfectly sunny Sunday with all my girl friends doing things we like, talking about things we enjoy and indulging in every moment of it.

Who says one cannot enjoy Sundays while in a fight with their boyfriend? ROAR max.

Thoughts going through my head as I freak out about being 23

There I was packing and unpacking as I move to my third house in Melbourne ever since I stepped onto this land at the lovely age of 19 (going on 20).

Back then aging wasn't a bittersweet thing and age certainly wasn't a factor. I still remember the three tiny goals I had with me upon starting a new life in Australia:
1) Make many new friends from different countries.
2) Get good results and not disappoint parents.
3) Get a boyfriend!
(The former two were rather unknown to friends but I swear was my main focus point)

Ticked all of them before I left Melbourne and goal number 3 was particularly achieved with flying colours. Woot.

But who knew 3 years would pass by that quickly - 23 now.
And now that I know 3 years pass by so quickly - 26 soon, is it not time to freak out?

Why you ask?

For according to the Loretta Official Life Map version 1999, 26 is the age by when I should be married (by latest somemore!!!!!).

Okay, relax. That was year 1999, my thinking has changed. But then. . .

Friend: It is like so crazy, all my friends are like getting married now.
Me: Yeah tell me about it. When do you plan to get married?
Friend: Not so young! Maybe another 3-4 years down the road.
Me: Sounds fair! By the way, how old are you?
Friend: I'm 20 this year.

Sweat. 3-4 years down the road for her means 'now' for me, isn't it?

The truth is, I still feel young (!) young (!) young (!) as of this moment. I can't imagine starting a family and seeing multiple Mini-Me's in the next 2 years! Gonna be hair raising, if they are going to inherit my superior hairy gene.

Young is definitely not determined by age, I strongly believe (and even more strongly try to convince myself). Sure the number is bigger. So what, it sounds mightier.

I certainly don't think I look younger/prettier when I was way younger. Even in Korea, where the sunlight is supposed to make you look fairer and impart a sense of having plastic surgery on you.


Sure right now, I don't really enjoy looking at my tummy and thighs while curled up in bed from THIS angle.

But I sure would love to keep the baby skin, chubby face and slick hairstyle.

After battles with exam, acne, expanding waistline, social issues and also boyband-obsession, I am sure I came out a wiser person right now.

For example, there is a great sense of achievement/empowerment when you return to the same place you visited under the care of your family, but this time by yourself.

The truth is, I feel like I can do a lot more. I am even ready to plan a holiday to bring my family to ( and handle the hard part of satisfying everyone on the tour!)

Stronger!!
But there is stillllllll a lot more I want to and need to do. There really is no such thing as stopping to learn or stopping to improve oneself at any age right.

Hence, I am still fired up about getting my bikini body (3 years overdue, so what!! That is the power of my age!). I mean, honestly, if not a taut toned bikini body in your early twenties, then when? Once the sagging, celluliting, flabby-ing and wrinkling take place, you have not a battle but a war to fight for your bikini body!

Sure it is harder to wear my bikini out right now (I mean, out of my room), but the day will come!

But there is something sweet about being able to be a princess at any age with the people who love you (and you love back, of course).

Believe it, I tested this theory this time around when I went back to Malaysia. And I forcefully tested this theory on Ray. Literally.

Me: Why don't you try treating me like a princess for a day? Is it that hard!?!

Ray: Okay when do you want it to be?

Me: Tomorrow.

Ray: Okay.

*Poof* Forgotten by both.

There is an inner princess or child in every girl.

I love flowery skirts and wear them still.

I love mid-riff bearing clothes and . . . . well, not really wear them at all.

I love dolling up with my Mum and does that still.

Oh but whatever the age is I am still Me. A bit changes here and there but still me.

And I am still packing and unpacking this amazing mass of baggage+clutter we have.

It is not easy moving from one place to another. Just take the cleaning. People always say cleaning is therapeutic. I guess it is because of all that time you have for you to think. Hence this inspirational post.

WenJi can even drive a 1-tonne truck. Take that as inspirational!

Storms can get heavier and battles can get tougher as you grow older.

Just like a hailstorm in the middle of moving a refrigerator.

Look at the major pieces of ice.

Sure they cause pain and bring trouble - but they come from the sky .

And the plants and little organisms love things from the sky.

There must be something special about it. One of my dream really is to discover a place like Sky Island in One Piece.

Speaking of which, at age 23, it is perfectly appropriate for me to love fantasies and believe in them - to a certain extent in reality and to full extent in my mind!

For one of my fantasies really did come true - raising a puppy.

My Shiro isn't the smartest, most obedient or most charming dog in the world. But he is the love of my life.

Despite saying so, I smacked him several times as I was unpacking.

My Mum once said that kids must be 'disciplined' with the power of the cane. I, at age 10, said no I would never teach my kids that way.

And today, I at 23, teach my Shiro that way.

Then there was this wise thing that a friend told me once.

Friend P: Kids? Why have kids? It's a different story if they turn out well. If you can't teach them well, the society will blame you, the government will blame you, the PTA will blame you, you will blame yourself. Sigh, why bother shortening your life, better not have kids laaaaa.

Isn't that funny?

In fact, I am more into taking pictures of myself than getting married or having kids right now.

See, young at heart.

Oh and another picture!

And one more!

Oh and more to unpack! Stuff it!

I never thought I would be living with friends in a foreign land when I was young. I always thought I would be living with my family, working in an office and going home for dinner every night.

But looking at the amount of sauces we have, I realised I have come a long way.

Irrelevant? No.

If I were back home, I never would have learnt how to cook, what different sauces are for, how much are groceries, how to take care of another person and most importantly, how to take care of myself.

For example, my little baby Shiro.

So at age 23, I am pretty much quite happy with the way things are and the way I am . . . and still freaking out!

And still have loads to unpack!

Which in turn also means, more time to continue thinking and freaking out!!

Sisters fighting on

I have only one sister.

She must be the one person I fight most with and disagree most with.

Maybe it is because we don't share the same haircut like some sisters do.



Or the photocopied face/anatomy.

And we are so very different in many ways.

Just look at our faces.

• Face shape: Me (Mum = small, skinny) vs. Sis (Dad = chubby)
• Chin: Me (Dad = protruding) vs. Sis (Mum = small)
• Eyes: Me (Mum = almond shape) vs. Sis (Grandma/Dad = round)
• Nose: Me (Mum = slightly higher, bigger) vs. Sis (Grandma/Dad = small button)
• Lips: Me (Mum = thin) vs. Sis (Dad = full)
• Skin: (Mum = oily, prone to pimples) vs. Sis (Dad = good, matte)

In fact so acceptive we were of this fact that one of our tops jokes was when this nurse asked if my sister and I were twins.

Growing up, we can't be more different.

Here I must blame my dad a bit huhuhu. See my Dad doted on me as a -

- girly girl girl.

And he doted on my Sis as a -

- boy-boy.

As such, I had a PMS-y, whiny, emo, reserved and slightly antisocial childhood while my dear Sis had a jolly good ol' Playstation, junk food, chatterbox, bubbly and over-socialised childhood. I swear it was as if I was constantly on antidepressants which did not work and she was drunk without alcohol.

Then we entered another phase in life where my Sis became moody like me and I jolly like her. We also swapped body size. I became the fatter one instead of her (hence began my dark ages).

And you know what, through thick and thin (life and body size alike), we fought and fought and fought.

Over every single little thing.

Blanket. Biscuits. Playstation. Mum. School. Friends. Cockroaches. Restaurants. Perspectives. Music. Clothes. Attitude. Weight. Cellphones. Cousins. Names. Relationships.

Oh and also this huge chunks of cheese Sis cut for 3 small crackers.

Our fighting worries our family and sometimes friends. Especially Mum the other fiery dragon.

But the thing is, at least from my own perspective, we fight but we learn and laugh too.

We don't learn about our faults/admit our wrongs to each other the HongKong-drama-melodramatic-OTT-way complete with violion strings and sappy soundtracks as background. We don't pour our emotions out with tears of appreciation and hugs of love. We don't encourage each other with big toothy grins and hearty pats on our backs or even beautiful words of compliment.

But we have a way - one only both of us know.

A nod of head. Pulling a face. Code words. A certain stare. A special grunt. A small hand movement. A subtle cue.

I cannot say I am best friends with my sister. I do hate her from time to time *whistles* But I can say that I know her better than anyone else and my heart softens most towards her (after Ray sometimes haha and maybe another 200 people). And sometimes I feel like she should feel the same too.

And how did we end up this way?

I daresay it is because we fight and never forgets to laugh together again, no matter how long it took to bury the hatchet.

That is the special bond I share with my sister.

Finally the cheongsam girls. . . .

. . . have fought their way to strength!

This post is to more fights and more of me making you cry and more of you making me angry!

It was a blast fighting with you again the last 2 weeks and can't wait for our next fight. Be it a pretend one or a REAL nasty one!