Sept 14, 2009

While many who have gone home have managed to seamlessly integrate themselves into their old lives, my sojourns of being home have only served to highlight changes, differences and preferences for the new.

While many have found it difficult to build a diverse network abroad, I have found it difficult to accept the homogeneity of home.

While many who have been abroad long for the comforts of home, I live for the independence and anonymity of being foreign.

While many crave for the familiarity of comfort foods, I am satiated with promises of baguettes and sushi.

Nonetheless, I don't feel at home here. And yet I don't long to be anywhere else.

Hello again

In the two months that I have neglected this space, I have gained meaningful employment, saw old friends, made new ones, projectile-vomited that reeked the building I live in, and buried an uncle while away at a wedding.

These past weeks have been especially interesting. I attended my first ever French Jewish wedding. Needless to say, it was interesting: the DJ bore a resemblance to Cat Stevens (before he became known as Yusof Islam), the first dance was to 'Blue Danube', the bride and groom headbanged to 'Highway to Hell' (as requested by the wedding witness) and the groom didn't have a tie for his own wedding because Parisian ties were not good enough. Damn those Parisian ties.

While it may seem like a wedding in France is the ideal getaway for us Londoners, it must be noted that it took us a good 14 hours to get there - as a basis for comparison, it took our New Yorker friends 11 hours to get to the same place. Nonetheless, Brittany is absolutely gorgeous, the stuff of picture books. Not the same can be said of the girls.

Things are remarkably different now from just two weeks ago. The weather too has changed; it's colder now and even when I seek out sunshine, the chilly undertone of the atmosphere can be felt on one's skin. Already, I feel like a veteran, a creature of habit and routine. Like the beginning of most things bad for you, this feels almost pleasurable and most certainly good.

The One with the Friends Reference

So far, I've been able to avoid talking moving away. Then Kevin had to go do this (re screen shot), effectively bursting the dam. I spent a portion of my afternoon reminiscing over what we affectionately and aptly term 'the end of an era'.

Our sojourn in Vancouver concerned itself with worries and problems that in retrospect seem negligible in light of our new found status as adults. At that point in our lives, our biggest headaches were assignments and class schedules.

We lived our lives like lyrics of an MGMT song. It's especially true because Vancouver is so drug-obsessed. We talked about people we knew, people we didn't know and people we wanted to know.

I do miss Vancouver. Most of my growing up was done there. Most of my ideals, aspirations and inspirations were drawn from the professors who taught me, the people I sat and smoke with, and the people who passed me by on the corner of Robson and Burrard.

Granted though, I never did see myself being a resident of Vancouver. I couldn't stand the thought then and still cannot stand it now. Vancouver is very easy to be sick of. It's the perfect transitionary city, in my opinion.

Much as I liked it, I could not have chose a more opportune moment to leave. I left it at the height of my glory days: an apartment in the West End, the neverfuckingending snow, strangers on my couch and a well-stocked fridge.

To its end, Vancouver was both a faithful friend and a sleazy bastard. There are many things I miss about it and yet I can't say I am sorry I left.

Come Fall

Now that I find myself making my home in the Northern Hemisphere again (in the geographical context, not the political one), I find little excuse to restrain from browsing. It's been a while since I visited Etsy. The last time I did, this girl and her offerings sent my heart into palpitations. I vowed to spend my next paycheque on her but alas that paycheque never materialized. Today, I make the same vow. Her name is Yokoo and she blogs here. I think she's extraordinarily talented.

Three Ring Chain in Barley

The Elizabeth Pom Pom

The Pembroke Cowl

The Cambridge Chain
Pictures credit: Yokoo's Etsy Page

I lifted the pictures from Etsy and in the process I hope I have not infringed upon any copyright laws. I am more than happy to credit unto Ceasar what is due to Ceasar.

In the event that the illusionary paycheque decides to evade me again, I just might settle on this as a consolatory gift.

Hello

Oh wow, it's been a while eh? The latest is that I've arrived in the UK. As much as I'd like to say I am in London, the sad truth is that I am not. I am currently in Guildford and it is very much like being in Klang. Small town, an hour or so away from the real city, got a main street, got a mall, yadda yadda. We're living with the 'rents till we have jobs to facilitate rent payments and everything that goes with that. Since my last post, quite a bit has happened. Most notably is my being engaged, renewed and improved sisterhood with Sheema, Sarika's going away in September and my parents separated by continents. Nonetheless, true to the old adage, some things (and people) do not change.

These days, I spend most of my days internet surfing, internet surfing, job hunting, food cooking and soap watching. I started of this post with something witty and intelligent to be said but then I lost the plot.

Anyhow, it's nice to say hello. I promise it won't be so long before I next call on you. Oh, True Blood is damn on!

STS

My new-found mission in life (for now, that is) is to theorize an academic discourse that people will be quoting and talking about years and years from now. My area of concentration is small towns that are too small for its own good. I hypothesize that small-towners live caged, scrutinized lives whose abilities and talents are limited and constrained by small minds and the disability to recognize that a much bigger world exists outside said small town. As testament of my dedication to this project, I have spent a month and a half and will be spending another 2 months or so in a small fucking town in bum-fucking nowhere.

So far, a fellow researcher-cum-compatriot (lest I be taken in by small town and undergo conversion) has remarked that "everyone in this town thinks and act like they're Blair Waldorf except that they're not". I realise it is a very elementary observation but I believe this reveals volumes into the mentality of this town; the mentality that is henceforth known as Small Town Syndrom (STS).

The Motherland

This is for Sarika who I know is passing out more often than she will care to admit to.

Home is well, home. Nothing much has changed since I left four years ago. The routines remain the same, the people have aged a little but their habits untouched. It doesn't take any effort for me to fall into the routine - nothing is strange, different or unusual. Which in turn is unusual; I expected to feel like a stranger, to be introduced to new things, new people. Instead I come home to well, home. Nothing much has changed since I left four years ago.

I suppose we can have a conversation about the insignificance of my presence but I rather not.

Mummy is a lot better, both health-wise and emotionally. The surgery really did help and The Skoros were right about the surgery renewing her lease on life.

I miss Vancouver immensely. It is difficult to compare life here to that in Vanc. because it is so drastically different but Vancouver will always hold for me a large chunk of affection and sentiment. My affection may come too little too late but having placed it in the hands and hearts of people (as opposed to places and things) I am confident I will see everyone again sometime soon and it will all be good.

Being "at home" is a psychological condition more than it is a physical one. To be able to so effortlessly integrate myself into a routine that hasnt changed much is a comforting notion, it is the stuff of Petronas adverts and Christmas cards. At the same time, it is a stark reminder of how far removed I am from this routine and how much change I have imposed on my life away from home.

Nonetheless, it is good to be home.

In other news,

Kevin dedicated a post to me. *heart heart*

Homeward bound...

in less than a month. The plan is to stop in Taipei for a couple of days because we can, then head home so I can start eating nasi lemak everyday.

Just got home from Whistler today; it was good fun! As usual, I do not have any photographic evidence/memories of my endeavors but I hold it in good faith that it will be on Facebook soon - in fact, Tereza's album is already up and I've tagged myself.

I don't think the pictures do the beauty that is Whistler sufficient justice. Like the rest of the conditions plaguing today's world, our stay coincided with drought week. Only five runs were open and the bottom of the hill was mostly green. Towards the end of the week though, it snowed and it was truly beautiful. It then became ffffucken cold and I was more than happy to admire scenery from the inside of a Greyhound.

So I did pass all my courses so I will be graduating. My aunt was quite distraught to learn that I wasn't planning on being in Vancouver for my convocation; so much so that she bribed me with plane tickets (I tried to justify my decision by claiming travel costs) so I guess I might be here in June after all. Mike will be living downtown by then so it all sounds quite good right now.

Now that all is said and done, the closing of this chapter is quite anti-climatic. Aside from the personal perception that I am a victim of academic injustice, I also cannot be arsed to fill out appeal forms, chase emails and see heads of departments for a minuscule grade bump. Too much work, too little pay-off.

These days, most trade-offs are not worth much to me anymore. For instance, while in Whistler I opted to stay in and watch 16 episodes of Friends because I rather that than put on an extra pair of socks to go out. Of course, I got called a number of names (and rightly so too) but I can't say I regret it. After four months of desiring regression but forcing some action out of myself, I do think I am justified. I am loving every moment of laziness - I do think I have earned it.


On the other hand, the house is a mess(!) as we sell/give/store/ship the accumulated evidence of my last four years and Andi's last two. Discarding possessions and packing boxes should make me sentimental for the last four years of the life that I have built for myself here in Vancouver but it hasn't. More than anything, I am anxious to just get it done with so I can go out and see the people that I will miss. My thoughts these days are steeped with excitement; excited at the prospect of moving to a new city, meeting new friends and reuniting with old ones, celebrating CNY at home, conversations with Suzi, seeing places I've never seen before, making decisions.

Leaving Vancouver right after New Years is perfect timing in my opinion - the holiday season will afford us much time together but the brevity will numb the abrupt separation. There will be no time for tears and contemplation, only after-the-fact acknowledgement with no chances of repatriation hence making it easier for us all to get on with our lives.

Happy holidays all!

Home stretch

With the present workload, I am gripped with the fear that I am meeting the wrong deadline; I am worried that I am not meeting deadlines that were supposed to have been met instead of working on what I am on. This semester has been quite the mystery. The papers write themselves so effortlessly and despite the 4 pending deadlines off the top of my head, I have just spent an entire evening watching TV. But about those papers, this term has been a breeze. Eight paged papers get done in two hours, reports in six, and term papers in three. Despite this seemingly careless attitude, my grades seem to say otherwise. With ONE WEEK away from being done with school, I am a little remorseful that I only learned this skill in my very last term; at the same time, I'm glad I learned this skill at all.

Time to start work. Coming in for the home stretch, baybeh!

A tribute to Forster

Between Klein and Greenspan, I polished off another Forster within a week. It was a short read - but a most delicious one indeed. I borrowed it from Sar after I saw it sitting on her shelf when I went over for a second Diwali dinner. A Passage to India was my first Forster book. I don't remember now where I first heard of the book or of Forster as an author but when I found Passage to India in the thrift store for 50 cents, I thought 'why not?'.

A Passage to India was delectable. Forster has this uncanny ability to understand the human psyche and translate the very essence of being into words. His books are always short reads but his choice of words so exquisite - he conveys volumes of nuances and secrets within secrets with but a few choice words. Owing to a shared history of colonialism, many times throughout reading APassage to India I come across a passage that so describes exactly how I feel or have felt but have always encountered trouble when trying to relay my sentiments. The genius that is Forster lies in his ability to truly grasp the meaning to be both a British colonial figure and an Indian and to explicitly reveal the delicate game in which both are intertwined without being coarse or vulgar.

While I profess to having more in common with A Passage to India then to Maurice, Forster's account of a man's desires, wantings, impulses, repulses, and all that makes one human is incredibly touching. It reads like an open book - like an old friend recounting deep, dark secrets meant for your ears only. Most importantly, one finds oneself in a position of non-judgment. Despite Maurice's "erroneous" tendencies, one cannot help but feel his very pain or ecstacy; one finds oneself rooting for him, searching for ways in which his desires can be met and his happiness fulfilled.

Forster has a way of creating an intimate bond between reader and character, much like God himself.

I am truly warped

I dreamt that in the heart of Central London, there is a pond where shrooms grow in abundance and "you literally buy it off stalls that are set up around the pond" (security guard in my dream, 2008). This place is called 'Your Bitches'.

Geeking

Padahal, I have shit loads I should be doing instead of all the nonsense blog-surfing and Huffington Post I've been doing. On a more productive note, I ran today! It's not often that I run and admittedly, I didn't get far but it was a productive thing to do nonetheless. I'm also on a bit of a health binge. Not sure how long this will last but we'll see.

I'm excited for the plans that we've put in place. It will be sad but I like new beginnings and new places. It will also mean new people and some very good old friends so there is no fear! Right now, things are still up in the air; the clouds have yet to form but once they do, I will be more careless with my announcements.

Naomi Klein may just have changed the course of my life. It is still too early to say but if she indeed did, she will hear from me. I promise I will not let her go unappreciated. Honestly, I will be gifting a lot of Shock Doctrines this year. My next read is by Alan Greenspan. It will be an intellectual read-off!

Oh, the pain

I'm down with a stomach bug. You know it's true because it's been confirmed by Google. On the upside, I am losing the weight I gained on the cruise and have been meaning to get rid off. On the flipside, I feel like shit.

Epiphany!

The 1630 hours bus coming down the hill is always a bitch because it's always so full. I caught the intermediate bus (between 1630 and 1730) so it was less packed. Anyhow, I was thinking of all these firms I told myself I will apply to and couldn't quite decide which ones I like best. So I tried to imagine myself as the power tripping, Wall Street/Canary Wharf/Roppongi Hills/Lujiazui royalty hobnobbing employee (needless to say, avec perks) and the more I thought about it, the more I realised I don't want to work! I had an epiphany! Since markets are so shit anyways and my chances of scoring a sweet-ass job have been almost completely obliterated, I figure I have nothing to lose anyway and can afford to take some time off to explore my options. By that, I of course mean that I shall spend my days running around towns, both foreign and familiar, and spending someone else's money. Since the global economy is now teetering on the verge of a crisis comparable to the Great Depression, salvageable only by the Asian propensity to spend, I shall do my part as a citizen of this world to save the economy! I shall put aside my immediate hopes and dreams for the sake of future generations and fellow compatriots.

It's really quite benevolent, I think.

Crossroads

I am at a bit of a crossroads. Two months away from pledging career loyalties, I am suddenly at a lost; you see, I am no longer sure of where my loyalties lie. This damned West Coast, socialist-friendly attitudes have infected me! As I am quick to announce once slightly intoxicated, I have always been pro laissez-faire, pro free trade, and anti government intervention in all things related to the economy. I believe the government ought to serve a regulatory role, with interventions restricted to mostly social institutions (e.g. education, health care, police). Of course, this is a rather naive notion for many reasons but my views are neither uncommon nor unsupported by popular policy.

However, my frequent interaction with self-righteous, self-proclaimed ethical bastards in school and Atena (who is NOT a self-righteous, self-proclaimed ethical bastard) have piqued my curiousity about what really goes on on the other side. So I picked up Naomi Klein's The Shock Doctrine at CostCo (an irony in its own right, actually, since Klein is anti-corporation) and at a discount price, if I may add, and she has single-handedly challenged what I thought were firm and just beliefs.

Having been educated in business school, any thoughts pertaining to ethics and the notion of "fairness" I countered with a sneer and condescension. There is a small but strong niche that believes that it is possible to do the right thing and remain profitable and this resilient bunch is often met with snide comments (mostly from the likes of yours truly). Nonetheless, I respect their commitment to fairness and justice and the well-being of others. Perhaps, from experience, I just cannot comprehend how one is able to get ahead in life without trampling on another in the scramble for scarce opportunities and resources.

Now, barely two months away from pledging career loyalties, I do not wish to pine after the corner office knowing full well that I may have to exercise options that will make the poor poorer in order to be conferred the corner office. But I still want the corner office, goddamnit! I am no longer certain what is right or wrong and it is both troubling and disturbing. I entered university with big, wet, shiny eyes and a bundle of aspirations and questions that I would have hopefully found the answers to by the time I leave; now it seems that I only have more questions and no one in sight with answers.

Duty of care (or lack, thereof)

On my way home today, a man on the bus collapsed in what I assume to be a drunken stupor. According to passengers, he's a local bum - meaning that he is often seen on the same streets and his antics are well known to the people who frequent the area. This particular bum was known for his enthusiastic hand gestures and a tendency to spit.

Anyhow, I was reading when I heard him crash onto the ground. It didn't strike me instantaneously that I should help. Instead, I remained seated and waiting for others to respond. No one did. Eventually, the bus driver called for transit security and we all sat and waited till the next bus arrived and we made our escape.

At some point, I felt ashamed. For many reasons - for not helping a fellow person in need, for failing a fellow human being, for not stepping in his shoes, for failing to act instinctively, for failing my Pendidikan Moral lessons.

The question is, did I owe this stranger a care of duty? By virtue of being a fellow human being, was I in any way obligated to helping him? The duty of care is extended based on one party's benefit/advantage over others and thus has a responsibility towards the others to exercise that advantage/benefit in a way that will altogether avoid or minimize harm towards any innocent parties that may be affected. In this scenario, I had the advantage of sobriety and the capacity to help so did I/was I supposed/obligated to help? The thing is, if the situation was reversed and it was me on the ground, would anyone help? Did the fact that this particular person was a bum make a difference to the intention to help? Personally (and this is not an excuse), I have seen enough incidents involving bums to know that it could have turned ugly and I wanted to avoid a situation. But does that absolve me of my reluctance to help? Or compound it seeing as to how a bum is by default in a less advantageous position and therefore more needing of help?

To what degree does being a fellow human being impose on another to lend a helping hand when one is in need? I've experienced enough kindness in this city to know (and hope) that I would have reeived some measure of care if it had been me on the ground. And yet instead of coming to a stranger's need, I contemplated my own well-being and concluded that my own superseded someone else despite his hopeless situation. I am not proud of it and yet I can't and don't feel bad.

Tis

It's been a while. School's alright. It's my first semester without any planned finals which also means I get done in less than two months. It's an exciting prospect; at the same time however, it also means I have shit loads of work to cram within these two months. But I only have classes twice a week which suits me quite fine, I have to say. Despite the many days of nothingness, time still flies by. Take yesterday for instance. I got up at 9:30, sat at my laptop and 8 episodes later, it was dinner time! Who would have thought?

Anyhow, Marco left last week to pursue greener pastures on the right side of the fence. I don't think I know anyone who went home as eagerly as he did. The people that have gone home have always done so begrudgingly and reluctantly - all for different reasons of course but begrudgingly and reluctantly all the same. I am quite happy for him, actually. In an ideal situation, I would do the same but of course, situations are not ideal.

Anyhow, nothing much has happened hence nothing much has been talked about. Ling came and gone. Marco's left. All my SFU kakis have graduated. Fall is here, winter is beckoning. I haven't worked in 2 weeks. I haven't been as up-to-date with my readings. I miss the girls. I watch too much TV.

That's it.

Filler post

It's the hours before 9am that I most appreciate. It's the time before the rest of the world wakes up and chores are allowed to go undone because it's outside business hours. I monitor the clock constantly and make little whoops when I realise I still have more time before I need to get off my ass.

Anyhow, Alaska was quite nice. I wouldn't recommend a cruise though. I think we're quite through with cruises for a good number of years from now.

School starts tomorrow. It's back to the grind but not for long. And while I detest the cold weather, I can't quite remember the last time I've pulled on my Anna Sui boots and therefore am looking forward to fall/winter.

These shoes are hot

*edited*

These days even blog-surfing has intentions. There is a noted change in the direction of my blog-surfing these days, mostly backed up by nobler (I use the term noble very loosely though) intentions.

Two days short of a week ago, the bigger picture was looking quite sterile and I wasn't looking forward to starting a job that I know I already hate. Then Fay came up with a brilliant idea and we've followed up on it with due diligence and now I'm excited again. I want to divulge because I can hardly contain myself but I don't want to put the horse before the cart. But wait for it, ya ya ya?

I have discovered the magic that is Payless Shoes thereby resulting in the purchase of these shoes (refer to picture) for only $28! Plagued by curiousity, I Google Lela Rose only to discover that Bergdorf stocks her too.

Photo credit: Payless Shoe Source

By noon tomorrow, I will be done with the Summer '08 term. In many respects, it is bittersweet. Bitter because I only have 2 weeks of worry-free days before the new term starts up and sweet because I have worry-free days at all. It also means I am one term closer to the sweet song of graduation.

I damn stress already. I also bought a pair of Converse for a price that I am now embarrassed to name because I Googled it in an attempt to find an image for my post only to realise that I fucken overpaid. Whilst the Converse website is retailing for the price that I paid for it, a lot of other sites are selling it for almost half less. Ciiiiibai. But I still heart my Converse.