A Brand New Year

As the countdown kicked off and fireworks tore apart the dark skies at precisely the stroke of midnight, the moment everyone has been waiting for was finally here! Amidst a crowd of people, we ushered in the new year. 2012. The noise and excitement level was suitably hyped as the crowd was no doubt jubilantly cheering during the spectacular display of fireworks.

And just like that, I know life's daily routine is all once again lined up for me. Whatever lies ahead is out of my control as I will once again wake up everyday to face the odds stacked against me on tough days and sail smoothly on better days.

2012 motto:

Cast off your fear!

Look Forward!

Face Forward!

Stand up be strong

Know right from wrong

Forever hence

Believe yourself

Fallen Star

It was the end of the road . No sooner had my favourite X Factor contestant, Drew Ryniewicz got booted out of the competition, the same fate awaited me when I dutifully prepared for my last chance to shine on stage.

Auditions, rehearsals after rehearsals, all boiled down to nothing as my chance of bowing out gracefully with a beautiful exit disappeared up in flames.

For inexperienced performers like yours truly, it was an entirely different atmosphere backstage.

Fidgeting nervously and awaiting our turn behind the red curtains, it was quite impossible to fully enjoy and savour the wonderful performances of our peers as the constant reminder that item no.__ is on stage dictated the countdown to our turn. Waiting has never been so uneasy; as one flawless performance follows after another, the pressure is on, and tiny doubts light up.

When it was finally our turn to take the stage, my hands had turned cold and clammy but my confidence level was still fine. I had practiced the piece countless times until it sounded perfect. With sheet music in hand, what could go wrong? That was, until I made that mistake which caught me off guard and ruined the (what-could-have-been) flawless performance I knew we were absolutely capable of delivering.

(Sing! Akon's Blame It On Me: You can put the blame on me, you can put the blame on me, you can put the blame on me, yeah you can put the blame on me)

Because I flipped to the third page instead of the second, it faltered really badly right after the intro. Simply put, the bass was still singing the Persian Market's tune but the melody had gone off track completely, even playing a different verse before it regained composure.

It could have been much worse if it had been a piano solo, but being a piano duet, my duet partner salvaged the performance by covering up my mistakes. Like what a pro should do, I carried on and gave everything I had to overshadow the mistake. Of course, the mistakes made were only a small part of the entire piece. The non-music literate would have barely noticed, but the music-literate would no doubt spot the error if they were paying attention.

At any rate, with our backs to the audience, we did not have the slightest clue (other than the polite applause at the start and end) to their reactions, expressions, or even if they were paying attention. Not that it really mattered, since the audience was composed entirely of parents, students, teachers, children and staff of the music school.

I was still depressed that we didn't nail it. The only comfort was that we managed to pull off/execute all the fast parts pretty well, even playing much faster than we originally intended (Andante turned Allegro for instance), which hopefully created excitement and liveliness for the otherwise mediocre/lacklustre performance.

Ironically, I did not shine like a star, which was the theme of the concert, but I'd rather not dwell on it. Unsatisfying, but finally I can say I am done and over with it.

Rewarded

For the moment seemingly stolen out of time, I might just be the happiest person in the world that day! Why, it's because I overcame one of the barriers from my past! Confronted it. Took the bull by the horns. Alright, I'll stop with the exaggeration.

All I could contribute was my time and energy, but was that enough? Others have mad talent and useful skills. Where do I stand? I kept wondering and worrying, but then it turns out my apprehension was completely unnecessary. Because the only focus is in the present. The past is history, and what one remembers well, barely registers in another's memory.

So, with that in mind, it was my only chance to make a second first impression. I think I pulled it off. And it's always a nice thing when adults trust you. But most of all, I was having so much fun. I let my hair down in a long time. And clicked with the others too. When everything falls into place, it does make my day so much better. Although nothing escapes hard work.

I must admit I am still no better than I was. I sensed a lot more to come from the younger ones that could give me a run for my money anytime. It's a wake-up call they're giving me. Playing it safe will help me survive, but it won't help me reach the top.

Still, I am utterly happy to have earned it back, and more so ready to be able to contribute more. Once I brush up, that is. And get rid of all my hesitations.

Special significance?

So, as the rest of the world was celebrating the rare date 11.11.11, due to overfocusing on assignments (due dates!), I was completely unaware that the date held such powerful significance of only occurring once in century.

It falls into the once in a blue moon category and generated quite a buzz in the papers and on the Internet, what's more with the frenzied couples rushing to tie the knot because of the deemed auspicious date. It would have been highly amusing if they decided to use Kelly Clarkson's (or Leona Lewis's) song, 'A Moment Like This', as dates like this only occur once, much like chances at marriage, it is simply befitting!

Jokes aside, I spent my day at the somewhat dull CommFest (yes, it was held on 11/11/11) and yet again, role-played as a journalist. As a news report was required for my assignment (submission), my article (http://journaliciouskabo.blogspot.com/2011/11/commfest-2011-brings-social-media-to.html) was of course not as critical as it could have been, and needless to say, I was playing it safe.

But to be brutally honest, the Communication Festival last year was much much better. Although this year did have some interesting performances, the festival itself was dull and the activities and games quite boring. I supposed it is partly because of the theme, which allowed more room for performances instead of games. Cardboard Facebook was just downright awkward! Though it wasn't all that bad, it doesn't seemed like anyone was having the time of their life actually.

I still smile at the memory of last year's festival where everyone went crazy racing around campus for The Amazing Race and tried to solve the mind-tasking challenges as fast as possible while catching their breath, and get freaked out at the Fear Factor game, plus some mini games, my favourite being the one where you have to struggle to stay on top of a wild (machine) bull that tries to flung you off.

But effort is still effort, and the team deserves praise for their hard work. Although I have considered PR & event management before, I would not really like being in their shoes, as a journalist's job to write up about an event is relatively easier than the headache of putting together a successful large-scale event. Even a small-scale/medium-scale event would have to go through the trouble of sponsorship, logistics, sales and marketing, promotion and publicity, not to mention coming up with a creative, workable idea in the first place! And the hardest thing is getting people to come! Regardless of the event, you have to lure them with celebrities! Managing these sort of things is actually not among my skills, as I have the most unbusiness-minded mind as imaginable, so more respect for these (overworked, underpaid?) people!

The day was not lost however, as I relaxed (for the first time ever!) in a fish spa* and had steamboat dinner with some friends at the end of the day.

*As all pampering goes, fish spa was pricey at RM 38 for 30 minutes but the experience was fun and refreshing! The nibbling fish sensation felt like dipping your legs into electric-current water because of the massage effect!

Damsel In Distress

Have you ever experienced something you never thought you were capable of? And in a shocking manner. It was not the usual case of achieving something impossible (that you've been aiming for), but the exact reverse. This would be what I call an all-time unprecedented life-changing experience.

It was a circumstances brought upon by myself alright. After having bought a perfect, brand new pair of actual sports shoes and waiting patiently for a 'chance' to wear it, I leapt at the opportunity when Sunday came. (Saturday was off limits because of heavy rain.)

Despite having just recovered from a cold and having gone on an assignment to cover the 'World Food Day' event at campus on the same morning, the excitement of going hiking at a new destination, the Ayer Hitam Forest Reserve at our own neighbourhood, Puchong, was a tremendously encouraging thought. The location was suggested by Dad and I was all up for it to get a chance to wear my new shoes and get some exercise in hope to strengthen my body (to prevent another nasty flu attack).

I hadn't realized it would have been so tough. But I seem to be the only one. My 6-year-old sister (who had insisted on coming along) had no problem keeping up with the pace at which my Dad (frequent runner) was going.

I hobbled like an old granny and watched as kids as young as kindergarten age and elderly (senior) citizens alike overtook me while my two companions patiently slowed down whenever they realised I was 'missing' (from view!).

After scaling the first peak and covering a fair amount of distance, I gave up at the point where there was another steep uphill climb. To complete the journey to the highest peak was still a long way to go, and too much for me to handle.

"I really can't go on anymore. I'll just wait right here,", I said, panting quite heavily while motioning to the most obvious spot to sit on, the huge log lying on the ground.

While Dad was persuading me not to forfeit, it was precisely at that time, a resounding roar rippled through the forest and immediately hushed us up.

Was it a tiger? We listened intently, but the sound had faded away. Yet all three of us heard it clearly, what sounded like a roar.

Still, it failed to spark any fear in me, let alone change my mind. I was mildly amused (at the possibility of encountering a tiger), and intensely tired. After getting the point that there is no point trying to make me 'move it', the duo went ahead and I was all alone with the forest.

I was still overwhelmed by the vigorous exercise and trying to catch my breath. Was I that much out of shape? I pondered.

It was at this point that the drama started.

I wasn't sure but it must be the exhaustion and hurrying to keep up, I seem to be struggling inside and there was a sudden strong urge to throw up. I made retching sounds several times, but there was no vomit.

I felt sick and dizzy and immediately sat down on the log. Two kids passed by together, a boy and a girl. After that, I began to panic when my sight started blurring.

My eyes were open but I could no longer see anything. I could barely make out shapes and outlines. It was scary. This has never happened to me before, no matter how much I overexerted myself.

Everything was dark, nearly pitch-black. I struggled to keep a hold on myself and hope this insanity would pass.

It didn't. There was nothing I could do to snap out of it.

I sat there, thinking I would die.

A few women pass by. "She looks pale", one remarks. Then, they left, continuing on their trail.

I was not doing well at all. My hand gripped the wood firmly and held on to it as I struggled to maintain my consciousness.

After a while, a group of concerned men stopped at the sight of me. I didn't know how I looked like, but I was most certainly very unflattering at that moment.

The men starting talking amongst themselves in Cantonese. Since my Cantonese language skill is practically non-existent, I had no idea what they were saying.

They must be worried when they couldn't get any response from me. I could only hold on to the wood as if my life clung on to it. The only thing I could still rely on was my hearing.

And then, without hesitation, I obliged as strong arms supported me and hoisted me up. Still, my legs couldn't support me. I was embarrassed that I was so weak.

Gently, they lifted me and I was placed on someone's back. I was piggy-backed down the hill and the rest of the guys followed behind.

I could feel the strong muscles carrying me as I clung on to the stranger's back. I felt sorry for my saviour as I know it must be neck-breaking work, having to lug around a 50 kg weight on his back.

As we proceed through the forest, I slowly regained my senses. Like magic, the darkness eased up bit by bit and my sight was restored.

They let me down once they learned I was ok.

I was understandably both highly embarrassed and extremely grateful to the good Samaritans. My saviour was a fit guy in his early thirties while the others were of various ages, none a teenager, but all looking very fit.

I thanked them profusely for 'rescuing' me and they waved it off good-naturedly, and further dished out some advice to me before going their separate ways.

When I met up with Dad and my sister, Dad told me he heard from the other hikers passing by that there was a girl who looked pale and unwell en route their trail.

"Dad... That was me."

Uh-huh. The damsel in distress of the day.

Quite an achievement for the first time wearing my sports shoes. (I felt so lame, as if I was a character from some drama, especially the piggy-ride part!)

It was quite pathetic considering I didn't even manage to complete the trail. I've lost to my 6-year-old sister (who seemed to go through the whole thing without breaking a sweat)!

The pursuit

More than anything else, beauty is the thing that I've always wanted to achieve.

I didn't used to be so conscious about my look. Until I reach teenage hood that is.

There are a lot of things that I regret now. If only I had taken better care of myself when the slightest 'problem' with my appearance crop up in my early years (of adolescence).

Though I am grateful that I'm not overweight/plus-sized, my entire appearance just screams plain jane.

Nothing memorable, easily forgettable.

This, coupled with my somewhat introverted personality, spells total disaster.

I can easily accept/tolerate other people and do my best to get along with people or play along with the situation, in short, harmony is the key, but I am finding it a teeny-weeny bit hard to accept myself.

I've rarely received compliments about my looks but I've understood and worked that out a long time ago. I have acne. Mild-moderate range, but still, not pleasant to look at.

It's a really tough world for girls out there. I can totally relate and understand the need for cosmetic surgery.

Ironically, I was in the shoot for an article, a two-page spread about cosmetic surgery. I figured out that I am not alone, most people are not entirely happy with the way they look either.

I guess we all secretly wish we could undergo that 'transformation', that miraculous change needed to give us that boost of confidence and satisfaction in our lives.

I've came to the conclusion that almost nothing is worth spending on as much as beauty enhancement; that your money is well spent on things that would or have the potential to make you look good. The least extreme example would be clothes/wardrobe and products.

Simply because, everything else is temporary, looks stay, for a while, with careful maintenance, effects could be maximized.

Food, travel, movies- they're great reasons to part with my money, but nothing to help my self-esteem with.

Any greatest, most delicious meal in the entire world in a posh restaurant will just be that, food, which is eventually digested and gone. The act of eating is pleasure, but it is purely short-lived. After that? The feeling of over-fullness/bloated tummy when you've gulped down a buffet does not utterly sit well on your conscience when you have consumed certainly more than what's needed to fill the stomach. Movies are great fun, but you forget them after a while. They do stay in your memories but have otherwise lost significance. And travel. Unless someone handles the 'details' for me, it's not worth the trouble.

Thus, I have make a decision to minimize all 3 components to save up money. When I've had enough, I'll definitely go without fear, but with caution and thorough research.

Not plastic surgery of course (I'm looking for minimal down-time!), but some other subtler methods, laser treatment, microdermabrasion, etc.

I know that the having clear skin is not going to change my life, but the possibility of it excites me already. It will be a huge, huge improvement that no amount of food, movies or travel can ever deliver! That personal state of satisfaction and achievement.

I'm not going to let anyone put their foot down and extinguish my plans, I'm truly committed, I'm truly determined that I really want to have that beautiful-healthy-clear-glowing-skin look.

Because until I reach the state of appearance that is desirable by myself, I won't be truly happy. I would only be in a state of synthesized happiness. No matter how pleasant or comfortable my surroundings are, the dissatisfaction/discontent coming from myself cannot be stifled/silenced.

I believe that altering a person's features does not make the person any lesser or any different than he/she originally was.

After all, isn't it human rights for every person to live they way they desire? Freedom of choice!

To feel good, you also have to look good. It is no secret that confident and attractive people have a head-start in life as they have a higher self-esteem.

It would be really great to have a balance of both looks and personality!

Blink blink

When I woke up on this fine Saturday, I was utterly caught off guard and completely surprised when I discovered that it is October already. October! I gasped. Like how come no one wakes me up when September ends? 

Well, for a start, this Saturday will be the first that I do not have to attend piano class anymore. After three years under the wing of a wise teacher who coincidentally shares the same first name as me(!), I have graciously told her that I wanted to quit piano. Erm actually, I wasn't brave enough to tell her face-to-face so she learned the news indirectly from the counter staff managing the music centre.

However, I was told that I can't quit cold turkey like that all of a sudden. All procedures must have a one-month advance notice, the counter staff told me. So, for the whole of September, I was taking lessons with the knowledge that I am 'retiring' once the month is over.

To my surprise, my teacher was indeed a true champ- an understanding person. I was quite nervous when I stepped in to see how she would react (after learning the news and all) and all she said was, 'It's too much (to handle) is it?', with this kindest smile on her face. 

I was one of her more memorable students because unlike most of her other students who start learning their musical notes and symbols at a relatively young age, I started fresh when I was 16, mid-way in Form 4. It was embarrassing to start learning up the notes one by one and playing your first song Mary Had A Little Lamb on the piano at my age! But I was motivated to learn because I really liked piano music. 

So three years later, I have closed my chapter by stopping at the Grade 5 level. Why not go further on, you might ask? It is just too tough,  would be my honest answer. Not to mention energy and time-consuming, plus, learning at the higher grades, the fun factor is greatly diminished, it is all about perfection of one very difficult piece rather than playing a variety of classical pieces which are challenging yet still highly entertaining and fun to learn. It is true that they say no pain no gain but the reason I took up piano in the first  place was to learn it as a new hobby and to be able to play piano at leisure at the comfort of my own home. Now that I have achieved a firm understanding of the basics and even sat for exams, I do not wish to go further on. Passion and patience are the only things that is truly important for someone not musically-inclined. Well, you could call me an amateur but I wouldn't mind because I truly am one. 

So then, this would explain why I was really touched and even a little bit shocked (in a good way!) when Teacher offered me a chance. She was going to let me audition for the centre's year-end concert! The audition is set to take place on the 26th (October) although the actual concert details has yet to be announced. I would be playing two duets with my younger brother, who too, jumped on the bandwagon because of me! There is truly nothing more that I can wish for than to exit with a gracious bow!

For all reasons concerned and for myself, I must pull this one off well! Talk about having a last chance to make someone proud! I wasn't going to freak out though, but there would be a panel of judges at the audition to 'filter' the students aspiring to perform. The panel of judges, as nerve-wracking as that sounds, actually only comprises of the various piano teachers of the centre, but only the more mature/knowledgeable and experienced ones. She would be among them, judging.

Albeit the concert would actually just be another small-scaled student's recital, yours truly, the enthusiastic amateur is still all fired up to be given this last opportunity. 

*In conclusion, Curiousplayfan sees piano only as a passionate hobby and not a serious thing (career, performance, exams, etc.) Having learned the traditional way, she does not know how to play by ear. 

Thriller

I don't know what triggered the nightmare. Oh wait, I do have an idea, I'll leave that for later though.

To be honest, it was the one of the scariest dream I've had yet.

I don't often dream a lot, or remember my dreams, but this one in particular had strikingly vivid details.

But I had a slight suspicion as to the factor.

If I die young, bury me in satin,

Lay me down on a bed of roses,

Sink me in a river at dawn,

Send me away with the words of a love song.

The sharp knife of a short life....

Ok, so I admit, I've been slightly addicted to this wonderful-sounding song that I've naturally memorized some part of the lyrics, particularly the chorus above.

I couldn't help it because the Perry girl (not Katy Perry yeah) is like a new Taylor Swift to me, the same big wavy blond hair, same country style singing, and also really nice melodies to the song.

Though I've only heard that one hit song, and it was enough to convince me that The Band Perry are really good.

So the downside was that I had this song stuck inside my head, although the lyrics weren't about romantic relationships like Swift's. It was about death.

Ultimately, my brain kind of malfunctioned (that's what I think happened lah) and my evening nap today was completely ruined when it morphed into the scariest nightmare ever. No kidding.

I won't go into the details, but yes, I dreamt that I was nearly killed. If I die young... WTF.

Worse still, the nightmare was similar to the lyrics! In the sense of the sharp knife of a short life... yes, the whole nightmare was about someone attempting to murder me. I was pleading with the murderer to spare my life while running and running away from the weapon. You guessed right. It was a. sharp. knife. !!!

Truly, I was like a victim character from a movie scene. And you know how the murderer is always the person the character least predicted, e.g. a close acquaintance?

I wonder how my friend would feel if I told her she was seriously trying to kill me O.O With a knife and all. Haha, she'll think I've gone cuckoo because of assignments workload.

Anyway, when I escaped death and woke up again, I was feeling so weird and still reeling from shock. For someone who've never encountered violence before, the dream was such a spine-chilling eye-opener. I really did briefly experience the whole ordeal (of an innocent murder victim), albeit only in a dream.

So I guess the only conclusion is not to listen TOO deeply into a song, especially if it has some funny lyrics, which could make the perfect ingredients for a nightmare!

*Curiousplayfan thinks she might just stick to her other favourite genre, classical music for a while, since it's an obviously safe choice!

A helping hand!

I am so grateful right now.

I never knew that the spirit of 'neighbourliness' is still well and alive in this modern town/city.

I needed urgent access to the Internet. The dreaded assignments! I was under intense pressure! All the documents and details for the assignment were on the student portal.

I have approximately 24 hours to complete a mind-boggling 1000 word paper!

My freaking internet connection had to be down at that particularly CRUCIAL moment.

Dad tried but failed to fix it.

I was already in 'panic' mode! The stress was already wearing me down.

The good Samaritans who came to my rescue were none other than my neighbours, who borrowed me their Internet access (by giving me their password to login).

Gratitude overflowed.

I hadn't particularly been too involved with them. You know what I mean. Other than exchanging pleasantries, I kept to myself.

It seems like there are people out there who care to lend a helping hand too.

Thank you, all the good Samaritans!

*Curiousplayfan says...pay more attention to your surroundings and you might make someone's day by offering a gesture of kindness when they need it:)

Double-edged sword

It cuts both way. Something that can help you can also hurt you.

I have fallen into a psychological trap.

The very people that I have admired and shaped me into a better person have turned their backs on me and given me the silent treatment.

The cause is undetermined. But I would have to let it slide since they can't be bothered because of their status.

As of now, there is zero chance of real life confrontation.

The superficial relationship is now reduced to dust and the previous kindness/friendliness shown was only obligatory or perhaps out of moral conscience. At least I figured that much.

These people wield no control over me, but they have been a brief, important chapter of my life and their influence/presence is still strongly felt.

I have always recognized my place and knew I played an insignificant role in theirs, barely scratching the surface as I can only view them from a limited perspective. I know so much yet so little about them.

At any rate, my existence is now ignored, yet I am unable to cast the light off the shadows.

I've improved as a result of the exposure they've given me and I will not forget the polite 'thanks' sometimes muttered for my efforts.

It's a different case now. I am outside the circle.

I can't completely dissolve the ties or sever the bonds because no matter how slight or tiny, there exists a form of emotional attachment. Even if it is unknown to them.

Emotional attachment is bad, as the brain is automatically linked strongly to memories. There is no stopping you picturing and thinking of someone in your mind although you try very hard not to. Memories flow like water and no force can withstand it if it decides to gush out instinctively.

The only thing I can think of doing now is to let them forget me and emerge as a new person.

If we happen to cross paths again in the future, we will or might just recognize each other. At best, it will be a friendly exchange of pleasantries and nothing else.

I will always be me and they will always be them.

Nothing will have changed.

Everything, every experience is there for us to learn from.

So although I have never been favoured, merely tolerated, I resolve to not have any hard feelings and will keep my head held high.

That is all.

Resurrection

Hurray. Back from lovely hometown. Lots of stuff happened while I was away.

1) Niki Cheong resigned from R.AGE, The Star.

2) BRATs camp is ongoing from 1st Sep to 4th Sep.

3) Feeling pressured, just a little, by assignments.

So, I really only care about the first two...

1) The photo of the empty desk evoked a tinge of nostalgia and a little sadness. But by dedicating a whole post to him (Out of The Blue), it made me feel better. Plus, he still tweets, Facebook and blogs occasionally. So it's fine as long as he is still using the social media. Haha. Well, it's not like we know each other personally anyway. Just in passing, in the past, and only for the (insert: precious) two months.

2) This comes back full circle. Powerless, I am only able to stand by and watch. Or spam the BRATs Facebook page. Or read, actually. Next issue will have the BRATs in their moment of fame. I suppose this is a never-ending thing, one workshop after another, three rows in a year, year after year. But it's good to see the great 3 writers having fun. They really are the pillar of strength of R.AGE.

3) Doing summaries, academic essays and academic readings just feel... bland. Expressionless. Doing articles for The Star, at least, has a feel-good vibe to it, even if you are rushing for the deadline.

The motivation level is understandably different when you are writing for the nation's number 1 daily rather than writing a paper solely for your lecturer to mark.

Well, you can't be sure people will read your insignificant article but then seeing it published makes it worth it already. Oh, and the delight of seeing your byline.

In the meantime....

I shall continue my current journey as a degree student!

Out of the blue

Ouch. Nothing hits you harder than the truth. The bizzare truth that is.

It's too sudden! Out of nowhere!

Since I wasn't really a member of the team, I was spared the news and gossips.

My first reaction was shock when I read his blog post.

Ho-hum, that was why he mentioned it was his last CH*** event.

Yeah, he who has the guts to drop everything and gallop off in the sunset. And when he finally made his way to top of the youth ladder too.

He held the coveted post. Leader of the pack. It isn't much, but unbeknown to him, he has inspired young journalists wannabes.

Shallow, I know, but then I couldn't picture it any other way, except this: the alpha-male has abandoned his position.

And then, understanding dawned. For the same reason one of my friends left, the reason stated is he has to. pursue. his. studies.

Hardly surprising, given everyone is flying off overseas nowadays to enter some sort of prestigious university. Sigh. Is it any good for me to stay here? Am I considered to be on par?

For that matter, I don't believe local graduates are any less talented or any less deserving of opportunities than their counterparts who had returned from overseas. I just hope my future employers think so too. Hmm, they couldn't be biased, could they?

Then, I remembered it was London. I remembered all those nice, friendly people then the last time I visited. But considering the recent happenings, he would have to tread with caution.

Finally realization. He has decided! So why am I even questioning his decision? Show a man some respect for his bravery, why don't you.

The boss dictates how his show is run, and if he thinks London is the next destination to set his new chapter for his story/journey, that should be that.

It is final.

So, although reluctantly, the subordinates bid farewell.

(Heck, even the kids who have only really known him for 4 days are touched!)

And whole-heartedly, we wish him all the best.

P.S. It's a free world, there are no rules except your own! ...is what I learned. Thanks again:)

The Climb

I haven’t realized how much I missed nature.

Suffice to say, I have been mostly ignorant of Mother Nature due to the fact that we live in a concrete jungle nowadays.

It proved to be a refreshing wake-up call/eye-opener when I randomly agreed to my friends’ crazy plan to go hiking in the wee hours of the morning in order to capture the view of the sunrise.

Broga Hill was selected as the choice of destination due to its convenience and proximity. The bonus was that the difficulty level was rated as ‘relatively easy’ according to sources.

What was supposed to be ‘relatively easy’ turned out to be quite a handful!

The journey uphill was so tough! I could barely keep up with my ultra-fit, sports enthusiasts pack (pack, as in a pack of wolves) who kept encouraging the rest of us, couch potatoes/barely fit ‘indoor-lifestyle’ girls to keep moving.

Not trying to exaggerate, but with every step I take, the exhausting feeling intensified, my breathing turned heavy, you know you can no longer go further, yet you keep pushing on because you don’t want to be left behind and be branded as a loser. Well, my group of friends/acquaintances was pretty considerate actually and we took many short breaks to keep me alive.

Did I mention it was around 3 to 4 am at that moment? Yup, the lot of us were trudging around in complete darkness in the jungle, armed with torchlights to illuminate our way.

Contrary to popular belief, the pitch-black darkness does nothing at all to weaken my resolve! There is really nothing like being ‘scared of the dark’! All that fear is totally evoked by listening to crappy ghost stories or Hollywood horror movies! The only threat to worry about is the stamina/endurance challenge! You are only afraid that your body will fail you and refuse to listen to the commands of your brain to keep moving!

The long and arduous task uphill…

But when you reach the top... What a relief!

King of the world!

And conqueror of Broga Hill.

It dawned on me that this was just child’s play, for the seasoned hikers, Broga Hill serves as a good warm-up.

For me, it was definitely a challenge! But then, there are so many more challenging terrains out there waiting to be explored!

Wouldn’t it be a waste if we don't utilize the ‘power of youth’ right now?

Or else, it’ll be too late for you to climb Mount Kinabalu or Mount Everest before you know it!

After all, we only live once. There should be no holding back for us to live life to the max!

*Curiousplayfan is not yet into extreme sports for fear of coming out battered and bruised, but loves trying out recreational activities amidst relaxing natural surroundings.

It feels good to be acknowledged!

Yeah, I'm such a kid :P, but it feels really good to have your existence acknowledged! Especially when it's by someone you care about.

It feels even better to be forgiven as shown in the "Dear Malaysians" video.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vRVUQHUQ4sQ

Thankfully, I live in a country where people are a forgiving lot and generally very friendly/warm. Otherwise, I would've have accumulated many haters for my bad habit, always showing up late!

Or as I like to call it...

...Fashionably late!

Well, usually I try to make it up to people (for being late) by working extra hard to please them:)

At any rate, I am extremely grateful to be on good terms with everyone now.

I have my flaws, so thanks for being patient with me all this time:)

If we could go anywhere! Pick Japan?

It was quite amusing and a pleasant surprise to come across one of my childhood episodes recently.

Doraemon's Dokodemo Door! or Anywhere Door! (featured in print news)

The Fujiko F. Fujio Museum in Kawasaki, Japan is exhibiting the works of art produced by the popular author and manga artist Fujio starting from Sept 3, 2011.

How I wished I could see Doraemon's many gadgets being brought to life and on display! The Dokodemo Door shown above is being displayed on the rooftop playground of the said museum.

As a child, I grew up reading the famous comics, gathered a decent collection and even watch the dubbed version on TV (where Doraemon spoke in Malay with Nobita!) :P

It would intrigue me to the point of excitement/suspense to see what 'magical tool' Doraemon would produce from his '3D' pocket to help Nobita each time he is in trouble! I used to wish that I could jump into the 'time travel drawer' and board the machine to the future or the past to see what mankind/civilization would be like.

Hmph, then when I grow up, the answer was to study history to my answer. Reading history from the book is one thing, but to be there, seeing it with your own eyes/experiencing it, is so different.

Based on that theory, I realized that I wouldn't know what Japan is REALLY like if I hadn't been there. Regardless of how many animes or TV series I watch, it still is just a painted picture which doesn't portray reality or depict the Japanese real life.

So, I harboured the dream of going to Japan, the land of my fantasies, and finally achieved that dream early this year in March. It wasn't smooth-sailing though as the earthquake struck there and then and I got caught up in the middle of it. No kidding, I wasn't hurt or swallowed up by the disaster, but got stranded at the airport due to nearly all international flights being cancelled.

But still it hasn't dampened my enthusiasm and liking towards Japanese culture, food and anime!

Nevertheless I have to face the sad truth that it's nigh impossible for me to ever go to Japan again due to the $$.

I suppose once in a lifetime is good enough! :P

Staying with a Japanese family is fun as you get to experience their daily routines, traditional Japanese style!

*Curiousplayfan is an otaku at heart. However, she prefers anime to manga. Her favourite childhood anime are the popular cartoons Doraemon, Crayon Shin Chan and Digimon. Currently a grown-up girl pursuing journalism, she can only afford to visit the fantasy world occasionally.

Down in the dumps

It has been a most uneventful and gloomy day indeed. Strange how the slightest upset could cause the delicate balance of our world to turn topsy-turvy.

When your anticipation and hopes are crushed, it leaves nothing much to be desired. However, I, for one, am immune (well almost) to depression. I just have this weird, empty, unsettling feeling inside but could still socialize as usual and manage a hearty laugh or two. However, I could barely process whatever the lecturer was telling the class. Since it is not journalism class, I was less concerned. (Performing arts is not my forte anyway!)

I felt disoriented and my mind had already lost focus when she constantly spoke in a medley of traditional English. The experience was fun though, she was very animated and lively to capture our attention when she read out verses from the play, which would otherwise make little sense to someone whose knowledge of Shakespeare and literature is limited to Sonnet 18 and Romeo and Juliet taught in high school. However, she really killed it for me when the tragedy comes to a depressing conclusion. After presenting the story of King Lear and Macbeth, the conclusion she imprinted in our minds, is that mankind are all fools, playing out their time on the stage while waiting for the end. I was really spaced out then but I think she mentioned candles. Perhaps it was something about how our lives are just waiting to burn out like candles.

I am probably acting very childish here, but having a tragedy-story-depressing-moral-lesson does nothing to lift my already low spirits.

For something so trivial it really shouldn't have affected me, but I need to confirm for myself just in case. No matter the outcome, at least I'll have a peace of mind.

Déjà vu

Driving to work this morning, (just kidding! xD) , I mean on the way to uni, this particular vehicle gave a sense of déjà vu.

If you are scratching your head there, I'm not excited over seeing a white van for no reason, it's because the logo on the van made me remember the days I was an "L" driver. (A learner driver)

Now an overconfident "P" driver who dares to venture out on unfamiliar roads (only with my trusted GPS!) and daring to drive at 120 kmp/h (on highways only!), the driver 'me' now is a far cry from the driver 'me' who was terrified to hit the streets.

Last time, other passing vehicles would made me very tense and if I had to enter a lane, I'd wait till the cows come home before I could successfully 'merge' into the lane (same thing for roundabouts).

Now, somehow I rarely hesitate and would cross the first chance I get! (With my signals lights of course) Unfortunately, due to my inflated ego, it seems I needed a stern reminder.

It came in the form of an accident. Twice actually.

The first time I hit a man's car while I was trying to overtake someone. I was really scared and cried after pulling over. While the young man inspected the damage to his car, I refused to get down and sob pitifully in my car (with the doors locked). I thought I was doomed then. Luckily, after getting my distress call, my parents rushed over and settled the whole thing. It was not a serious damage so I got off the hook easily and facing the music was not as big as an ordeal as I thought.

After a while of carefully observing every single traffic rule, my old habits slowly crept back.

The second time, I crashed a pregnant woman's car. It was a front-to-front crash, and this time, it was quite serious. Both our cars' front were badly dented. (Dad had to get a new bonnet for my car, that's how bad it was).

The woman was unhurt but I think I must have scared the living daylights out of her. (Then again, pregnant women shouldn't be driving!) Everything was solved amiacably though.

It was that incident that made me vowed never to be involved in an accident again. Never mind about my car, but what if someone gets hurt because of me?

Suffice to say, I turned over a new leaf. Since then, I am doing ok and haven't gotten into any trouble. I still drive fast, but not recklessly anymore.

Yes, for the record, I still enjoy driving! So for the upcoming Raya break, wishing everyone a safe journey home!

A journalist wannabe!

Since this is my official first post, let's have a bit of ice-breaking, shall we? xD

Now, my thought is that life is always determined by the choices that we make. Everyone has to make important life-changing decisions at some point.

Mass comm has always been my first choice. After high school, most of my friends had gone on to study medicine, law, engineering... you know, the usual kind parents would expect their kids to pursue for a (ahem) bright, brilliant future.

So with the fact that I am dooming myself to a, shall we call it, not-as-bright future, all alone, I bravely plunged into a year of Foundation in Communication and (happy to report that) I had emerged unscathed and found some true friends along the way.

Here's the real deal now. The point is, barely a few days ago, I took that leap of faith AGAIN.

But SERIOUSLY, I had doubts about journalism, not kidding here, in fact I still do. Fear that I can't live up to people's expectations and fear of rejection grips me so strongly. I have always admired them. How do journalists survive?

What's that? Journalists have no life you say? Probably. That I can't be sure of. It depends on the nature of work I think.

But I do know that they get to come across all sorts of situations and people, which enriches their life/work experience. I know a couple of really awesome 'wau' journalists for that matter!

However, after two weeks of classes, I think I'm still treading on shallow waters. Tip of the iceberg so to speak. The shallows would eventually be dangerous deep waters!

I don't know if I'll end up being a (real, full-fledged) journalist. Only time and fate will tell.

Well, if it doesn't work out in the end, I can always do something else right? xD In the meantime, I'll be doing my best to swim and stay afloat:)

P.S. The people who inspired me to take up journalism, thanks, you know who you are.

(Or not :P)