Embarrassing Myself Is A Reflex Action

Lie Yuen, Poh Yee and I have decided to take up belly dancing at the neighbourhood clubhouse. So the first class was today and we had to rush to the clubhouse right after dinner, but that’s cool as we’re looking forward to doing some good solid dancing. Or something similiar to it.

God, I’m craving for tomato soup now. I don’t know, that just came to me. Caught a whiff of something in the air as I’m typing this that resembles tomato soup.

Anyway! That’s not the point of my entry today.

Those of you who know me might know that I get a little(okay, VERY) tongue tied when I’m feeling nervous. Lie Yuen wanted to drive into the members-only car park area at the clubhouse and so I got down and spoke to the guard.

I was trying to tell him in Malay that I wanted to park inside.

“Kenapa?” he asked, while looking up from his newspapers.

“Oh, kita datang nak pergi tarian buntut,” I said, while automatically putting both my hands up in the air and jiggling my waist left and right.

The moment i did that, a huge WTF thought bubble popped out of my head. It was seriously a reflex action.

I turned back, knowing what was awaiting me inside the car.

I opened the car door and the two of them were screaming with laughter inside asking me what the hell did I do that for.

And why tarian buntut!! Hahahaha. I totally didn’t know what’s the word for belly dancing in Malay. Tarian Perut didn’t come to me and wouldn’t have sounded right anyway.


Super shy wei.

This would actually be my last post for awhile. I just disconnected my internet today(I’m making use of their effective-in-24 hours thing.) so I don’t know when will Streamyx be efficient enough to reinstall the internet at my new place.

I’m actually feeling quite sleepy now while packing things into boxes at 1.20am. Procrastinated a lot. Damn you Facebook!

I’m like freaking out about the things I put on top of my shelve and wardrobe. The envelope that contains my x-ray from the med checkup before I entered uni is covered in at least two inches of dust. I looked at the x-ray of my chest and wondered what I can do with it….and I’m so proud to say that I’m gonna turn it into a poster for my new room in the new place. 😀 Decorate the borders, use it as a noticeboard.. we’ll see. Cool idea nonetheless. 😉


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Recess Time Over The Years

After reading a close friend’s blog about how he had to bribe his school mates in standard 1 with snacks during recess so that they would play with him, I thought about my own recess times throughout the years and realised that there is some truth to his musings. Though he mused more about being lonely, I’m overwhelmed by a sense of nostalgia of how each recess or lunch break was spent as I went through seventeen academic years.

In 1990, money was a foreign concept to me. 1 cent coins were enough to make me gleam with excitement. Nobody gives a three year old any money. My mother would give 20 cents to me every other day to bring to my nursery school as there was a small room(with a table blocking the entrance to it) where two Indian aunties would be selling snacks to the kindergarten children. I would take my single 20 cent coin out of my strawberry coin purse and point to a jar of round biscuits, each topped with a solid sugar icing of a different shade. I called them colourful biscuits and I still call them colourful biscuits to this day.

One of the Indian aunties would roll a piece of wax paper into a cone and scoop some biscuits into the cone. I would take my 10 cents coin change from her and put it carefully back into my strawberry coin purse, excited yet perplexed that I still have money to hold. Having money to hold was a very big thing to me.

I don’t remember eating being very important when I was in St. Anne’s, my first kindergarten.(T___T how nice if I don’t find eating important now. T____T) I remember spending my recess time playing with this fat little boy called Kevin, peeking at each other through a tunnel and then shouting with laughter. If I was lucky, the cool crowd would invite me up to the ‘kampung house’ in the middle of the playground. On a good day, there would be a rather impressive amount of masak-masak items scattered about. On a bad day, all the good toys would have been taken by the other children and we used our imagination to make do. I have no idea how recess ended or how classes were conducted but I do remember bringing my smelly pillow to class for our afternoon naps. My classmates were scared of my pillow, that I remember too. Whenever it rained outside, i would wail and wail, with tears streaming down my face, wanting to go home.

In 1992, my grandparents moved to USJ so I could no longer attend kindergarten in Petaling Jaya. My mother transferred me to a kindergarten in USJ2 called Ladybird. It was cleaner and prettier than my old kindergarten which was more rustic and dark. The kids in the USJ kindergarten sang “Fatty Fatty Bom Bom Juli Juli Jagung Kiss Your Darling Two By Two, Gorilla love you!” in a different way and I was confused because I remember the lyrics to be “Fatty Fatty Bom Bom Juli Juli Jagung, Kiss Your Darling Two By Two, Bangali Love you!”. I guess kids in Subang Jaya were taught to be more politically correct.

Anyway, recess times were spent in the classroom munching on biscuits over small orange bowls or porridge in the same orange bowls. But I loved it most when they served Hokkien Mee on Fridays, in the same orange bowl. I remember hating the onion bits in my porridge and would scoop it out and stick it to the back of my chair. I’ve been gross ever since I was a child. There was a playground in my kindergarten and a sandpit too. We had special periods to play and proper recess times to only eat. The whole class would eat quietly as the teacher watched over us.
In 1994, standard one rolled around. When Standard one began, KFC was having a promotion whereby a kiddie set would be presented in a flimsy plastic lunch box with Chicky’s face stuck on the cover. My maid would put a bottle of water and a sandwich inside the lunch box and i would bring it to school. I felt really cool that I was totting a lunch box and would look at other girls who had the same KFC lunch box. At that time I felt no emotions because similar fashion statements didn’t mean a thing back then. The lunch box didn’t last long as it proved to be very very flimsy. My sandwich and water bottle rolled out onto the floor when I spotted a boy from my kindergarten mandarin class(forgot everything already so you can get rid of those question marks about my current banana status) and ran after him shouting, “eugene! eugene! Hello!!! It’s me Jolene!” and got really upset that I had no food left to eat.

Food was usually brought from home in a square Tupperware, sitting next to Clara on any available surface – the side of the drains near the canteen, on the tyre where a tree I used to climb up on grew, on the cement slabs that were the make-shift badminton courts… such simple times. 🙂

In 1995, I spent most of my recess with Huimin, Elaine and Poh Wei. I remember speaking a lot of cantonese with Elaine and it was when I was 8 year’s old that food was secondary to me. I’d rather play catching with Elaine and listen to her tell me off for having small eyes. My class was very united. Skin colour was beyond us and we played paper games together during recess time. It was also rather sweet that there was this boy who would stick to me during recess time. Like really invading personal bubble that type. Once, he even told me that the boy in standard 3, who is a year older than me, whom I used to carpool with (Hello Meng Kim Fei if you’re reading this! *waves*) in 1995, had a huge crush on me. But from the way Kim Fei treated me(by not letting me play with his Power Rangers action figure after school), I knew that it was not meant to be and that the other boy who told me about Kim Fei was really the one who liked me.

I remember one particular recess when he came up to me while I was standing in some tyres with my classmates waiting for my turn during a game. He told me that someone really likes me. I ran away and hid in my classroom until the bell rang, signaling the end of the recess period.

In 1996, I became a prefect and I would trot down to the canteen mightily 10 minutes before the usual recess time to gobble hot bowls of noodles for RM0.40 with my fellow prefect friends. I think it was then that my social skills started developing as I made more friends with people who were not my classmates. Recess time back then consisted of a lot of “Jangan berlari!” and I was in charge of a standard two class and so it was “Selang diri,” and “tangan lurus”.. all those prefectorial commands, ahem. My prefect partner was an equally round boy called Kelvin who would entertain me with stories about a disembodied hand that came to him in his sleep. He was always sweating and drank a lot of water. During recess times, Kelvin and I were stationed at the Block D staircase, right in front of this other standard 2 class. I was enjoying my senior status and grew to have a few standard 2 friends who were very nice to me. Hard to imagine that I’m still in touch with one of them. Hello Chia Wei. *waves*

In 1997, I lost my easy-going personality when I was sent to mix with students who were a year older than me. But it was also the year that I got close to Jocelyn and Siew Li who were my class buddies, tuition buddies and prefect buddies. Jocelyn and I would take care of the bicycle shed together during recess time. The bicycle shed was next to the fence separating Lick Hung from my school. At that time, Chee Kiang was also a prefect at Lick Hung. Hehe, who knows, we might have glanced at each other before when we were mere ten year olds. I ate alot of roti canai in standard five. Also RM0.40. OH AND DONUTS TOO. Those were RM0.20.

In 1999, my mother would give me RM15 a week and it was ais kacang for me everyday while sitting with my then bunch of friends, at the benches lining the walkway from the canteen to the bookshop. In form1, it was then that I noticed cliques huddled in different corners of the school during recess time, each marking their own territories. The form2 seniors would usually take all the available seats in the canteen and us juniors were to meekly sit in our rightful benches around the school for the entire 20 minutes. Old enough to have crushes on celebrities, too young to gossip. That was how we spent our recess time, raving about the latest pop song on the airwaves instead of backstabbing our classmates. Sometimes, our eyes would rove around checking out the seniors and whispering to each other about who’s with who. Okay lah, the early humble beginnings of the gossip queens.

In 2000-2001, the canteen was finally my territory as I was an afternoon session senior in form2 and in form3 we had our own separate session from the seniors. The Dahlings would conquer one table and yak and yak and just yak. Recess time became too short. 25 minutes was just not enough for us to have a proper meal and trade juicy stories. How come 25 minutes seemed so much longer when we were kids?

In 2002-2003, the same bunch of us would sit at the canteen but it was a healthier mixture of guys and girls this time. Since it was 4-5 years into secondary school, all of us pretty much knew each other and we didn’t really have specific places to sit and ‘conquer’. It was all very social butterfly-ish and any available seat was your seat! I would say it’s because of all the recess times during form4/form5 which allowed us to bond and foster our friendships. As they always say, secondary school friends are less fake as compared to the friends you make once you step out of school. Less enemies etc.

In 2004 and mid 2005, the world was my oyster. Well, okay, SS15 was my oyster. Spoiled for choices by the amount of eateries surrounding Taylor’s College, my college classmates or my high school friends and I would waste 10 whole precious minutes of our hour long lunch break deciding on where to eat. We’d then waste another 10 minutes walking to the destination and settling down. It was extremely important to have our tummies filled with the delicious array of food selection at SS15. If the group was too big, stories were listened to with a blank look of vague interest because our lives were starting to deviate from each other.

In mid 2005, meals were anticipated as I did strenuous physical exercises in the morning, attended boring motivational activities in the afternoon and marched till my toes bled in the evenings. Meal times during national service was not the most hygienic but it was definitely one of the more happier times in the day for me. Announcements to collect mails were usually made during dinner time and whenever my name was called, I would dash up three flights of stairs, collect and tear open my mail to see what Weng Lum had to complain about his camp in Terengganu. Eating my ikan kembung while laughing at his mishaps, most of my national service mates would try to see what was written in the letters. They would put their heads in front of the paper and not understand a word as everything was written in English. Coming from a national school, I was the one who mixed better with the other races. The chinese usually sat on one side, and the malays sat on the other side. The banana sits in the middle. Even though the food sucks in this world of mine today, it was so delicious when I had nothing else to eat but their meals. It didn’t matter if it was spicy, Air Sirap Rose always saved the day.

In 2006, meal times were smacked dab in between classes. In the first half of my first year, I was still a hosteler and thus had to endure the horrible food that the cafeteria provided me with. Lunches were usually spent gasping in horror at how rude the canteen staff were to me and how measly was the variety of food provided. The first half of my lunch would be spent picking at my food, hoping to not find another dead fly, and the second half would usually be spent drafting complain letters to the university. I once made the whole class sign the letter too.

In mid 2006 to now, 2007, after tumbling out of class in a sleepy stupor, we’d ask each other, “Eh, where to eat ar?” and feel so upset about the lack of places to eat. Chicken rice, bak kut teh, lou shi fun soup, wantan mee soup, chap fan.. same ol’ same ol. A glass of chinese tea to wash down my lunch, having a good round of bitching while browsing through the Hong Kong TVB Pirated Dvds from a persistent peddlar, that’s how I spent my lunch these days.

I just thought it was pretty interesting(for me, it’s okay if you’ve fallen asleep by now) to document how my break patterns have changed over the years.

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I’ve Got The Ipod Nano 3rd Generation and My Grandparents’ Death Anniversary!

I bought it!! I bought the 3rd Generation iPod Nano! Well, okay.. I used my dad’s credit card to buy it as he said it was for my 21st birthday, which is a long time more. 16th of January, to be exact. Just so you know. *looks around innocently*

Intrigued by the roundness of the new iPod nano and the sweet ass colours that it comes in (white, black, turqoise, emerald green and metallic red), I finally headed to Mac City at Cineleisure Damansara with my brother on Saturday to purchase it. It has 8Gb and can play songs(duh), play videos, store photos and play a few in-build games. All these for RM872!

It’s so freaking small and light.

About the thickness of three credit cards.

Even the port looks so sleek. Mmm. By the way, I still can’t get over how convenient iTunes is.

Someone told me that they went back to their original design of having a mirrored surface on the back of the machine. Very sexy!!

I’m sorry I have bad taste in music, close one eye lah. I just love the colours so much. As I’m a first time iPod user, I guess it would only be understandable why I would rave about the quality of the audio. Absolutely brilliant!!

Just so that I can show you how my nails matches my iPod! Actually it matches my handphones more. 🙂

Uploading a video into my iPod was pretty tedious. I had to convert the original .avi file(an episode of Greek) into a .mov file with my trusty Xilisoft video converter. Inside iTunes, there is another converter and then sync as usual.
I once tried converting an episode of Ugly Betty into a .3gp format to watch on my handphone. I was beyond ecstatic but maybe my handphone’s screen was far too small and maybe because Ugly Betty is kind of boring that’s why it didn’t seem so great on my handphone. But on the iPod nano, I was actually hooked on the episode and could totally understand everything that was going on in the movie. Which means that it’s really clear and the audio kicks ass!

When you leave the …er.. selection bar?.. you know, that blue thingie…? Anyway, yeah, so when you leave that blue thingie on ‘Music’, you get the cover arts fading in and out at the right side. Very pretty!

I really regret deleting all the cover arts that I’ve had previously. 🙁

The colours of the games are so sharp!

Funky solitaire!

The photos looks even better on the iPod screen then the LCD screen on my own digital camera. Shy only, Ah Lumix~!

A mini photo album to bring everywhere.

I just love how crisp the colours are.

This one looks like it is part of a movie. Hehe.

On saturday night, Daryl had a small gathering to celebrate his 21st birthday. Just some barbecued stuff and some alcohol and some chips to go around. We spent the night sitting around, sharing stupid anecdotes. Somethings never change.

Awww.. so cute!

I don’t know who ordered the cake but it’s quite mean! LOL! Daryl’s the type who doesn’t mind to be poked fun at. It’s still funny to see Fat Ass on a primp and proper looking cheesecake.

The lot of us that night.
back row: l-r: Justin, Wilson, Chee Kiang
front row: l-r: Daryl’s Aunty, Huei Yann, Amanda, Daryl’s Sis Ashley, Daryl, Nadine, Jon and myself.

Another photo with me standing up!

October 1st marks the death anniversary of my grandfather. Since my grandmother passed away within days of my grandfather’s death, we would commemorate their deaths on the same day.

What I found strangely amusing was my aunty and dad’s decision to burn Princess Diana magazines for my grandmother to read in the, er, other world. Hehehe. She has always been a huge Princess Di fan.(and also Dr. Mahathir! Woot!) I hope no one comes after me for burning photos of Diana. My poor grandmother is very bored in the other world okay!

It was her own magazine collection anyway. From the looks of Prince William and Harry, it’s quite obvious that those mags are pretty old.

We were wondering what reading material would my grandfather like and immediately thought of burning a copy of The News Straits Time for him. He can then resume his government bashing while flipping through the newspapers in the other world. I think if my grandfather grew up in a younger era than the one he was in, he would definitely be a huge political blog fan or maybe own his own political blog.

My Aunty asked my brother to eat the fruits after praying and he snobbishly replied, “Mmmf, I like my fruits with souls, thank you very much.” Apparently after the fruit has been eaten, the fruits become rather bland. The science student in me is thinking chemical reaction between the -CHO groups in the fruits and the carbon of the ashes that floats around. Okay, maybe my chemistry is beyond salvage. Sorry lah, studying about teeth for the past three years what to do!

One thing I love about being a Chinese is that we get to play with fire a lot. Mooncake festival, Hungry ghost festival etc etc. My Aunty asked us to light some joss sticks and my brother went straight up to to the Tei Chi Kung’s(some god guard) bowl with a floating candle to ‘borrow’ some fire from the candle. My aunty was scolding him because he wasn’t supposed to do that. Hahahha. I went to tell my Mum about it and said, “Just now Mervyn took the fire straight from the Pat Yat Kong’s floating candle.” and my mother scolded me because it’s called Tei Chi Kung(Ground God or something), not Pat Yat Kung.(Very Old Man)

My aunty and mother had a good laugh about our *ahem* young and naive ways of the taoist life.

My mother was telling me that there was once where my brother tried to put out the flames in his joss stick by hitting it on the ground. Got sound effects somemore, “Shah shah shah!” .. I laughed at my mum lah as she’s always doing funny sound effects without actually meaning to be funny. Thinking that he must’ve been such a cute little boy of about 8 doing that, I asked, “Hahaha, how old was he?!” and she was like, “Just last January only what,” -_- Mervyn, mervyn..

We then talked about religion and my mother was telling us that when she brought my brother to do his MyKad a couple of weeks’ back, he gave the clerks a bit of a headache as he wanted to fill the religion part as “Free Thinker” or “Atheist”. He was pretty serious about it. Hahaha. Obviously my dad didn’t find this very funny. He was like, “You’re buddhist.” in a this-is-the-end-of-the-discussion way.

My cousin Shevie then turned to ask me, “Cheh, do you believe in God?” and I’m like, “Have to lah. Must pass exams one mah!” and she was like, “LOLOLOL Me too!”. Now, now, before you pushy Christians jump in joy, when I say God I mean my own God. The Gohonzon. My father makes me chant the mantra whenever I’m facing any difficulties. My father told me that the Buddha is inside me and the more I chant, the more powerful it becomes. Hence, what I do understand is that having a faith is for confidence purposes.

Enough of religion talk. So not my cup of tea. Moving on…

We bring flowers to my grandparents’ marble slate thing whenever we visit. That’s me bringing back the plastic bag to my Aunty to put the flowers in.

Nasi Lemak for my grandfather and Hokkien Mee for my grandmother.

I don’t know if I’ll still be doing these thing when I’m their age.

Purple orchids. Just like the one my grandfather tended to lovingly in his garden. His garden was his pride and joy. Even though he has a bad back(His back is hunched at a 90 degrees angle, thus having a Hunchback appearence ever since he was 40. TB of the vertebra it seems.), he would still squat in the garden for hours thus resulting in his garden flourishing beautifully. However, when he passed away, his garden died together with him. The rest of us are all brown thumbed.

The Hell currency! There’s even a freakin’ signature there by the Hell King. Yeah okay.

Burning the magazines for my grandmother. Don’t crucify me!! It’s a chinese tradition!!

Ah, being chinese rocks. *gazes lovingly at the flickering flames*

Now, for some bimbotic self indulgences:

Here are some of my spoils from last week’s trip to the Weekend Flea Market at The Curve!

This dress is only RM30! Heck, the entire shop was selling for RM30 per piece! Good for class!

Statement t-shirts going at 2 for RM50. Damn funny lah the sayings.

This is so me!

And a golden heart necklace. Damn damn pretty.


I made Chee Kiang buy this for me from Vivocity. Hehehe. I fell in love with it the first time I saw it but thought it was a waste of money. But it’s not! It’s damn cute and huggable! Really soft. It also makes a good stool!

And some pictures to remind myself that I’m a third year dental student, no longer a 2nd year dental student who is under the impression that she is still on holiday.

This is a class 3 cavity preparation. We had to preserve the enamel on the labial aspect for aesthetic reasons. Everything was done while using the mouth mirror to view. Indirect vision is damn pening kapala.

After filling it up with composite.

And here I am, making a Class 5 cavity preparation on a lowar molar.

Kinda depressed about my cavities are still so ugly and big. Oh well, practice practice practice.

I’ll reply comments for the previous post when I wake up in the morning!