Sunday, July 26, 2009

Feels like a tag tonight.

ABC About You Questions:

A - AVAILABLE : for lunch tomorrow? Nope, going shopping with my mama.

B - BIRTHDAY: September 21st 198*. Bitches ain’t gonna know my age.

C - CRUSHING ON: Hugh Dancy

I will nom nom him. I will nom nom him all night looooong....

D - DRINK YOU LAST HAD: Ice lemon tea.

E - EASIEST PERSON TO TALK TO: Arwen Jinjang, Nisa, Farid, 3kc, Tinesh, Gypsy

F - FAVORITE SONG: The Shoop Shoop Song (It's in his kiss) by Cher. Check out the young Winona Ryder and Christina Ricci in the video.

Cher - The Shoop Shoop Song


H - HOMETOWN: The state of Selangor. I anak watan Selangor yo.

I - IN LOVE WITH: my boobies. They are magnificent.

J - JUGGLE: No. I don’t need to juggle to entertain people when I am a natural raconteur.

K - KILLED SOMEONE: Nope. But God….how I wish I could. Man oh man….how I wish I could.

L - LONGEST CAR RIDE: I think it was in the States. Illinois to Michigan for my brother’s graduation. I think it was supposed to be a 6 hours ride, but we got lost and when we finally found it; it has become a 10 hours ride.



O - ONE WISH: Threesome with Clive Owen and Hugh Dancy. My head is spinning just thinking about it.

P - PERSON YOU CALLED LAST: My brother. “I know you drank the last Vitagen in the house. Don’t lie.”

R- REASON TO SMILE: A lot of things. There are a lot of things to be thankful for in my life.

S - SONG YOU LAST HEARD: Call You Sexy by VS. Possibly one of the sexiest song you have never heard by a band you have never heard of.

T - TIME YOU WOKE UP: 12.23pm. I’m on a holiday bitch.

V - VEGETABLE(S): Potatoes, carrots and…well most of it. I eat a lot of vegetables.

W - WORST HABIT: Snapping at my friends when I am having a bad day. But 3kc have showed me the error of my ways. Thanks babe, I will always remember that day when you call me out on it.

X - X-RAYS YOU HAD: Dental X-ray (wisdom tooth), knee X-ray (when I was hit by a car and dislocated my left knee), CAT-scan and MRI…those are considered X-Ray too right?

Y – YO-YOS ARE: Bullshit. One hit me in the face once. Motherfucker.

Z - ZODIAC SIGN: Virgo. I am the Eternal Virgin. Heh.


1) Your real life name contains the letter "K", consider your ass tagged.

2) If you online handle includes the letter "K", consider your ass tagged.

3) If the name of your blog is spelled using at least one "K", consider your ass tagged.

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Bish plz, you don't want to be messin with my homegirl now....

My life has now been reduced to fighting with 13 year old girls.






See, my family and I are close with our neighbours. One family in particular. My dad is best friends with the well…the neighbour’s dad. When my dad wanted to start his company back in the 80s, it was the neighbour who lent him the capital he needed. We have been living in this neighbourhood for 19 years…and so has our neighbour. He got married late though so his kids are years younger then my siblings and I. Nonetheless, those kids grew up running in and out of my house.



I practically watched them grow. I’m kinda close with the eldest one. I used to help her out with her homework back in primary school, take her and her siblings for movies and babysit…for free. I don’t like kids, but I make an exception for these kids. After seeing them day in and day out…..them kids just grew on me you know.



So Clara* is 13 years old this year. The first year of her secondary school. And as fate has it, her parents have taken her out of her co-ed primary school and transferred her into an all-girls secondary school. I am a veteran of all-girls primary AND secondary school and being thrown into all-girls secondary school at the age of thirteen where all the crazy hormones just started acting up is not easy. I’ve been there. And so have you. And to top it all….Clara is well….geekish. She’s tall you know for her age, about a head taller then everyone else in her class. She’s tall, lanky, slouches a bit and wears glasses. You know the type. There’s nothing wrong with being geeky of course…later in life. But a geek at the age of 13?



It’s a fucking death sentence.



Clara came over to hang with me over the weekend. So were in my bed exchanging stories and I noticed that she kept on changing the subject whenever I asked her about school. After a while I got sick and tired of probing and I was like “Fuck investigative journalism” and asked her point blank what the fuck is up. Then she started crying. Like seriously, we’re talking the quite kind of crying. No hiccups, no drama just like this never ending stream of tears. I freaked out! I was like “Motherfucker! What the fuck? Does she have cancer? Is that the big secret?!! Bloody hell, I should not have asked! I cannot deal if she has cancer!”



But outside I was all cool and I was like “What’s wrong babe? Tell me.” All the while hoping it’s not cancer…..cause you know. She’s 13. That would totally be fucked up.



Then all these stories came out. These three 13-year-old skank whores have been picking on her since the beginning of the year. Calling her names, telling her ugly to her face, pushing…elbowing her in the halls and in class when she’s getting to her seat so she’ll trip instead. They whisper behind their hands as she walked by. All these hideous, adolescent, mind game, bulliying fuckery. But what she kept on repeating again and again was that these whores call her ugly. I think that really cut into her self-esteem. I mean I know. I was bullied. I was bullied cause I was fat. I am still fat. I was bullied when I was 5, 6, 7, 8 and 9. That’s 5 years of fuckery before I became a total badass when I was 10 and beat up the kids who bullied me. No really.



I. Beat. Them. Up.



I was 10, they were 12 and I beat them up. And I kicked one into the drain. Cause he was on his bicycle and he was mocking me so I went over and kicked his bicycle which happened to be by the drain so asshole and his bicycle both fell into the drain. I beat another one with a piece of wood. Asshole was asking for it. True story. I’ll blog about it someday.



So yeah. Me. Badass.



So by the time I hit 13, no one messes with me. Clara clearly, has not achieved the badass status that I had at her age. So she cried and I listen. And I remember all those years when I was bullied…you don’t forget this shit you know. I was picked on because I was fat. She’s being picked on cause she’s tall and lanky…and geeky.



Same shit. Different era.



It was with that thought that I went to her school yesterday, on Monday. I actually cancelled plans I made to watch the new HP movie with my friends so that I can go to her school during recess. You don't mess around with my homegirl and think you could get away with it. I made a point to dress up. I wore this maroon dress, 4 inch high heels and made sure the make up made me look older then I am. The point to drive home here was :



“I am a woman. You are 13-year-old skank whores. The End.”



I went there during recess so that Clara can point out the miniature bitches to me….and then I waited for them after school. No point causing a scene during school hours. We all could get in trouble. So I waited and just like Clara said, all 3 of them came out together. I went over with a smile and introduced myself. I was like



“Hi, I’m CD*…that’s Kak CD to you.”


(For those not in the know, “Kak” means “older sister”, it’s a term of respect we used here in Malaysia to address a female that’s older then you.)


“How are you girls today? Good?”



By these time, them miniature bitches were like taken aback by me. So I went on with a smile on my face.



“Can you guys see that girl standing over that red car over there? Yeah, that’s Clara. I’m sure that you guys know her cause the 3 of you have been bullying her since the beginning of the year. You know….pushing her around and calling her names?



“See…when she told me that you guy have been calling her “ugly” and “buttface” and whatever else….I was imagining that the 3 of you would be like these hot shit you know. That’s why you girls could go around calling people names cause you are just sooooooooooo attractive. But now that I actually met you guys…..I’m surprised that your parents did not kill you at birth.



Seriously. Have you guys looked into a mirror lately?”



Should have seen the look on their faces. It was a mixture of panic and shock. So I went on.



“See I have known Clara all her life. I watched her grow. She’s like my little sister and frankly I don’t like hearing all these bullshit I have been hearing. Seriously, would you like it if I call you Acne Face to your face?”



One of the girls has a serious case of acne.



“Not very nice now is it?”


At this point one of the girls opened her mouth to protest....but I held up my hand and gave her a look. Not when I’m talking bitch.

I'll Crucio all of them. Miniature skank whores.



“So here’s the deal. Stop this fucking bullshit right now. If you don’t….I’m not gonna go to the teachers. That’s soooo highschool. And I am over highschool. I am going to go to your house instead and speak personally to your parents. I have lived here longer then you do. I know people. And trust me….it’ll be easy to find out where you live.”



This is of course bullshit. I don’t know that many people. And I don’t think I will be able to find out where they live…but hey it’s not like these miniature bitches know that. Also by this time, one of them have started crying. Man…I feel bad for that. But you don’t go around bullying people and not be ready to face the consequences.



And then I pointed at Clara again.



“That’s Clara. Know her name. It’s not “Slouchy”, it’s not “Ugly”, it’s not “Buttface” or all these other unimaginative lameass names that you gave her. It’s Clara.


Learn it.”



And then I walked away.



When I think about it now, I should have made them apologize to her but I didn’t. Also while this was all going on, Clara was being all scared and staring at her feet. I wish she would have given them skanky miniature whores dirty looks or something. I guess growing a backbone takes time.



I’m worried though. I’m worried that these miniature bitches would retaliate. Cause kids these days are not like kids back then you know. And if that happen, I won’t be around cause I’m flying back to Aussie next Monday. I told Clara if anything was to happen she should go straight to the principal.



I do hope this is the end of it though.


Friday, July 17, 2009

Short Story: -As yet Untitled-

The Constantly Dramatic One is back on Malaysian soil.

I wrote a short story in my notebook on the 2 hours flight from Helsinki to Amsterdam. And since I'm jetlagged and running on Finland time now, I typed the whole story out. It's a short story bout sisters....but in no way does it reflect my sister and I.


The floor is made of linoleum. Its shiny surfaces reflect the soles of her shoes. The whole room is either a variation of either grey or white. Grey shiny floor. White impersonal walls. The walls betrays its age. It’s been a while since anyone repaint these walls but someone clearly have mopped the floor earlier today. Sterile. The way these places should be. The fluorescent light blinks overhead of her. It blinked a couple more times before it gave out a little scream of defeat and died away. It left her in semi darkness. She was reminded for the second time that day that nothing last forever.

A door creaks as its being pushed open. She could hear the sounds of footsteps approaching her. Even. Unrushed. Respectful. Places like these are always respectful of everything. She didn’t look up but waited until the footsteps reach her.

“Ms. Sanders?”

She didn’t respond. She continued staring at her shoes. Her blue Adidas shoes. She remembers the day she bought the shoes. It was a happy day. A beautiful day…the sun was shining and she….she was there too. Sitting here in this hallway, she couldn’t even see the sun. Ironic that the shoes that give her so much joy would end up with her here in this place and on this day. It’s a cosmic joke. The entity of which many would recognize as “God” likes to mess around with His subjects.

She does not realize that he has knelt in front of her until his piercing brown eyes stared into her black, hooded ones. She was sitting on the chair while he was kneeling in front of her. They are level now.

“We are ready for you now, Miss.”

She did not respond. She continues staring at him. Here is a man who goes through this everyday. Here is a man who knows how to deal with these types of situations. Composed and dignified. Not like her. Everything that she is, everything that made her what she is, is spinning out of control. Her sanity is hanging by a thread.

“Yes Miss, its time.”

Gently his hand took hers. She doesn’t realize that she had her hands in a fist on her lap. She was stiff and terrified. He took her fists and gently parted her hands. There was blood in her palms where her own nails had been digging into her flesh. They made five nicely shaped moon cuts in her palms. Blood oozes from them. She does not feel the pain as she stared at her blood soaked palms but yet……she wonders how much really her blood resembles her blood.

“We’ll fix that later. You have to come with me now.”

Finally she stood up. The man with the piercing eyes gently guides her down the hall. The other room is different from the first one. It’s much darker here. She could hear the soft whispers of Mozart in the background. Another man was waiting for her. He is older but he has kindly eyes. She wonders if they only hire kind people to work here. Maybe they do. He was standing next to a cabinet. A metal cabinet, with huge drawers. Huge, because that’s what they used to store people in.

“Ms. Sanders, you are the next of kin?”
“Yes….” A voice, hoarse by anguish answers. It’s not her voice but yet it comes from her nonetheless.
“……..Yes, I am the next of kin.”

He pulls the metal drawer out. She could tell that he does not have to use much force. She was never heavy. And there she was in front of her. Her little sister. Only two years apart but yet destiny had carved a different path for them both. She flipped the white cloth from her head just to see a face that is identical to her. Right down to the mole on their right temple. Her brown hair had been swept back. They look lanky and wet on the slab as if she just got out from the rain. Her eyes shut close and never would it be open again. Her button nose is just the way she remembers it. And her lips, her lips…..are curved upwards in a smile. Lily smiles in death when she had never done so in life.

“She killed herself.” She said out loud.

It was a statement, not a question.

“Yes, two slashes to the left wrist.” But yet, the coroner with the kindly eyes answered.

She had known long ago that this day would come but yet she kept on living in denial. Tears trickled down her face as she stares into the pale face of her now deceased sister. It wasn’t the first time Lily has attempted suicide, there were many times before. This time, she happened to do it right. She stroked her face; it felt cold to the touch. Lily is dead now, officially, but truth be told she died long ago…… On that first night when he first came into their room.

There was a storm outside when it happened all those years ago. Bianca was wide awake. The booming sound of thunders kept her up as she huddled in her bed. Lightening flashes outside….illuminating the room that she and Lily shared. In the dark of the night there was a silhouette standing at the end of Lily’s bed. Through her half lidded eyes Bianca could tell that it was their uncle Rick. She was just about to ask what he was doing in their room when he sat down on Lily’s bed. He pulled off the covers of her gently. Bianca could see the heaving of Lily’s chest as she breathed gently, lost in her own dream world. Than Rick begun stroking Lily’s cheeks gently and his fingers kept slipping lower and lower until it was down to her thighs. The nine-years-old Bianca did not understand what was happening but even so her heart begun to beat faster. Something is really wrong with this picture, something…..but she did not know what. At that exact moment, Lily woke up.

“Hey pretty Lily, how are you?” Uncle Rick whispered.
“Uncle Rick, what are you doing here?” Lily asked, still drugged with sleep.
“I was coming to wake you up. I want to play a game and I want to play it with you.”
“What about Bianca?”
“She wouldn’t like to play this game. Plus I just want to play it with you. Would you come with me?”
“Okay Uncle Rick.”

Lily’s childlike innocence kept her from questioning the strange request. She trusted him, he was her uncle. Bianca was left all alone in her room, confused but yet jealous because her uncle did not chose her to play with. Years down the road her jealousy would turn into thankfulness. Thankful that Rick did not chose her but instead Lily and whenever that feeling comes she would be burdened with guilt.

Over the years the sisters have carried this shameful secret with them. Not knowing that it’s neither of their faults but really they are just victims or circumstance. Night after night, Rick came for Lily. Touching her where he should not have. Sometimes he even climbed into bed with her only leaving when the sun rays hit the windowpanes. Lily who was once a trustful child becomes suspicious and withdrawn. Bianca grew quiet, fearful of the knowledge she has; thankful that she wasn’t chosen but yet burdened with the guilt of knowing. The girls grew up in secretive silence. Lying in bed at night, hearts thumping in unison out of fear and waiting…waiting for the door to creak for the man who was  suppose to protect them to come in and rob them of their childhood.

Lily first tried to kill herself at age of fifteen. She tried to hang herself form the wooden beams in the farmhouse. She couldn’t take the shame and the guilt but fortunately the beam, wrinkled with years, broke under her feather weight. Bianca found her lying on the floor in a fetal position and whispering words of comfort to herself. The noose still tied around her neck. She came and lied next to her sister. Holding her tight, letting her know that one day it would end. She felt the wetness of Lily’s tears drenching her shirt. The despair in the air was palpable. The fear and the secret shame sucked them both in that by the end of it they were both howling in anguish. Even worse, they know for a fact that the tears would never make the nightmare go away.

They ran away from home the year Lily turned sixteen. It was Bianca’s idea. There was nothing left for them on the farm. So they hopped onto a bus with nothing but the clothes on their backs and they left. They held each other’s hands throughout the journey. They had high hopes that tomorrow would be a better day than today. Lily believed that with leaving the farm, where it all begun she can start life anew. Pure, innocent and untainted by what have been done to her. Bianca, legal now at the age of eighteen was adamant that she could take care of her little sister. That she could protect her when she couldn’t all those years ago. Their hopes and dreams seemed to become more real as the bus drove further and further away leaving the farm far behind. Hoping this episode would be forgotten, a memory lost in the realms of time.

They were wrong.

Things like these could never go away. Events and memories formed in childhood carried forward to adulthood. It’s what makes a person. And it made Lily a broken person. Freed from his hands yet never from the emotional and psychological scars that he left behind, Lily never really grew up to become the woman she should. She carried on as if she is still seven years old. Hoping that by acting that age, it would turn back the hands of time. It did not. She was crazy. She drove Bianca into depression. Burdened with survivor’s guilt Bianca tried everything to help Lily fight her demons. Counseling, therapy, over medications and even shock therapy but nothing works. Lily was set in her ways.

Then one day, Bianca came home from her graveyard shift at the local diner only to find the floor flooded with water. Her heart stopped beating. Her hands shook from the fear of knowing…but could she? She ran towards the bathroom and even before she opened the door she knew what she was going to find there.

Drenched. Naked. Her eyes glazed over. 
Her wrist bloody,….the water in the bathtub soaked in blood red- her sister is dead.

She couldn’t save her. Running away from the farm did nothing. The demons have been unleashed within Lily’s heart and mind. And there is no escape from that. Bianca howled in pain and agony. She couldn’t even move past the bathroom’s doorway. She screamed and cried and the next thing she knew the paramedics were there. Somehow someone must have called them. But it was too late. Lily is dead for good. And so is a part of Bianca that had been intertwined with Lily for so long.

Standing next to Lily’s body, grief threatened to overpower her, she could see that Lily did not really lost the battle to her demons after all. In her death, Lily was smiling. And she could not recall a moment of when Lily actually smiled when she was alive. Lily’s free now. She’s off to a better place. A safe place where the demons and the nightmares would never keep her up at nights anymore. A place that Bianca could never provided for her. Through her tears, Bianca smiles. Lily is free now. Free of the pain, the nightmares and the guilt.

They both are.                                                                 

Tuesday, July 07, 2009

Paranoia...or justified?

I finally have the time to blog now seeing that my sis and bro-in-law (hereby will be known as BIL cause I’m too damn lazy to type the thing all the time okay. Let me be.) are already asleep. I am doing this all on her laptop cause I left mine at home.

Not that I wanted to but because my sis practically yelled down the phone telling me not to bring mine. Her reason being is that when I come back to Malaysia, I will be bringing a lot of stuff so what’s the point of lugging around the laptop. Just additional burden. I could of course yelled back at her saying that I will bring it cause my laptop is my lifeline, an extension of my being, the very reason of my sanity and where I store half naked pictures of firemen I’ve accumulated over the years…but I didn’t. Cause as much as I love my sister and I do; the woman is fucking fierce okay. I get shit scared when she’s angry with me. I still have memories of her yelling at me when I broke her hairclip when I was 7 and she was 12 and that still send shivers down my spine.

I still have an uncontrollable urge to scream out “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!! I didn’t mean to sit on your hairclip with my giant (yet sexy) ass! I’ll buy you a new one!!” whenever we get into an argument. Actually I did that once a couple years ago and she stopped yelling at me, stared and then just walked away mumbling something about weirdos, sister and “just my luck.”

But….I digress.

This post is not about Finland yet. It’s about my journey coming here.

Before I left Malaysia for here, my parents reminded me again and again and again not to leave my bag alone unattended at the airport, not to speak to people, just sit quietly and mind my own business. Not that I am a 9 year old kid that needs reminding but because well they are parents and these days you are always reading about how Malaysian women ended up being drug mules for something or other. I am in fact a single, young woman traveling on my own- prime candidate for a whooole lot of fuckery.

My parents were telling me the same exact thing in the car on the way to the airport. When we were parking the car at the airport carpark. While I was checking in my luggage at the airport. While I was searching for a place to sit at the airport. When I was sipping my hot chocolate at the airport’s café.

Same damn thing. Don’t leave your bags alone. Don’t talk to strangers. Do not become a drug mule and end up in a Turkish prison. Basically the same thing every parent tells their children when they are traveling alone ya know.

So I got on the plane and ended up sitting in an isle sit. There were 2 empty seats between me and some middle aged dude. For a while there it seems like the 2 seats were going to stay empty when at the last minute this dude came in. Blond hair, blue eyes, about 6 feet tall, beer gut hanging out, tattoos all over his arm and uummm…….braided beard. No I’m serious. His beard…..was braided. It was one long…thing hanging off his chin and I knew he was going to be trouble before he parked his ass right beside me. It wasn’t comfortable, I can assure you that. About 5 mins before take off he asked the airhostess for vodka. I thought he was a nervous flyer, probably needs a small amount of liquid courage. So yeah we all have issues. But apparently his issue became my issue when he downed the vodka with 2 white pills. Dude, you don’t mix liquor and medications. Look at what happened to Heath Ledger. Let’s all take something out of that little episode shall we?

About 10 mins into the flight, he started mumbling incoherently. Then he fidgeted about. The hell, these are coach seats and fucker you’re 6 feet tall. Stop fidgeting. After that he begun leaning on me, by this time I believe that he wasn’t even aware of what he was doing. Liquor, pills and being that high in the air can do shit to you so I managed to squeeze out of the seat and asked an air hostess to relocate me. I honestly believe that he wasn’t a bad dude…just you know he enjoys taking pills with Vodka.

All to his own.

I did not encounter another pill popper at my next seat but there was this old lady and all through the flight she tried to make conversation with me. At first I pretended not to speak English but that was stupid cause I ended up taking out an English novel to read so then I had to speak to her. She was about 75, Irish by her accent and claimed to be a nun. She wore this huge cross at her neck and told me about her missionary work. I listened to her with feigned interest but really you know….I really do not care. All I wanna do is sleep or check out the steward with the tight ass. He wasn’t hot per’se but tight ass yo…tight ass. Priorities people, priorities.

I dunno if it was the exhaustion of sitting on my ass for 9 hours or my parent’s inflicted paranoia or the fact that I’m obsess with CSI, but it occurred to me that the lady was mentioning the fact that she is nun in every other sentence.

“Me, being a nun told him…..
“Because I’m a nun….
“We nuns know better…..

Like yes, I get that you are a nun. You don’t have to tell me 3 thousand time. God. Yours and mine…but yeah. It was like she was selling it too hard. So I just kept quite. She kept on asking me about me as well. “Was I flying alone? Is anyone meeting me there? Is this my first time traveling alone?” Kinda…weird. Or maybe not but I’ve decided its no big cause I wont be seeing her after the plane landed anyways. After the plane landed in Amsterdam she asked me if I have a transit and that if I would like to have coffee with her, I told her no cause I much rather not waste time and get to the next plane immediately. I thought that was the end of that.

I was browsing through some of the duty free stuff in Schipol when I bumped into her again and again, she asked me for coffee. Clearly I wasn’t rushing anywhere and I can’t refuse her. That would be plain rude so I said yes. I wasn’t happy bout it but there was nothing else I could do.

So we were having coffee and again she was telling me about her missionary work. I didn’t ask really. I mean, maybe she’s proud of what she does. Maybe she was trying to convert me. Maybe I am the perpetual drama queen creating drama in my head when there is none. Whatever it is, I was on edge with her. I felt that we did not “bumped” into each other; she singled me out. This is of course pure speculation.

So we had coffee and then I offered to clear the table and put away the try. I was just in the process of picking my bag from the floor and putting it over my shoulder when she tugged at it. She had her hand on my bag, tugging it towards her and she said

“Why don’t you leave your bag here while you put away the tray?’

What the fuck? Bitch, I am not gonna leave my bag to virtually a stranger whom I just met not even 10 hours ago, okay. And the hell, who the hell are you? I don’t even know you. The hell should I leave my bag with you. Maybe it was a combination of paranoia and exhaustion but alarm bells went off in my head. So I tugged my bag towards me, smiled politely and told her no thanks and this was the weird part….and maybe a bit creepy. She tugged it again. She was like “Oh no, I insist.”

The hell motherfucker?

I tugged again, stronger this time and told her no. Then I put away the tray and told her that I need to use the bathroom. In truth I was ditching her. I mean the fuck. That was creepy okay. You don’t go tugging people’s bag for no reason. I did however went to the bathroom and literally cleared out the entire contents of my bag on the floor of the stall. I went through one by one, I figured if I found anything suspicious and wasn’t mind to begin with; I would have flush it down the toilet. But there was nothing.

I did not went back to the café. I went straight to my Gate, sat through my 3 hours transit and made no eye contact with anyone. Too tired to deal with another fuckery.

Could have been paranoia but really….what’s the deal with the bag tugging bit? What do you guys think?

Friday, July 03, 2009

From Aussie to Malaysia to 29 days

The Constantly Dramatic One is now…in Finland.

Fuck yeah.

I've arrived here bout 4 hours ago. It was a combined 16 hours journey. 12 hours 50 mins from Malaysia, 4 hours transit in Amsterdam (where some fuckkery took place) and another 2 hours, 30mins to Helsinki. I am sooo fucking tired but I will not sleep. Jetlagged is a bitch man.

You guys.....this is like my first time ever in Europe. Ever. Well in all technicality I’ve been to Turkey which is like a motherfucking huge country that actually have parts of its territory in both the Asian and Europe continent. However, I’ve only visited the Asian side so that doesn’t count. So this is the first time ever in Europe.

I am totally geeking out over here.

I’m in my sister’s and brother in law’s place. I’m sooooo happy that I get to see her after 10 months. It’s just me by the way. The rest of the family is in Malaysia. It’s too expensive to fly all of us here. Plus my sis and her husband came back to Malaysia for a holiday back in April when I was in Aussie. I was soooo jealous that everyone was home at that I was the only one away okay. It wasn’t jealousy per’se. It was more like depressed and missing people till it hurts.

Missing people and things sucks donkey balls. It cuts deep and there’s no really cure for it you know. Except for going around trying to be as busy as possible so that you’ll forget…but when you’re in bed at night you still think about it and it still hurts, Despite everything you do to stop it.

So my sis says that if I come back during the winter break, she’ll foot the flight ticket so that I can come visit her. I have an option to visit her when its Winter break in Aussie therefore summer in Finland OR Summer break in Aussie therefore Winter in Finland. Duuuuude, Finland is fucking scary in winter, the sun disappears for 60 days. I mean, the fuck right….the fuck. I’m not gonna visit when there’s no damn sun around fuck that. So that’s why I’m here now, in summer. And in summer, the sun sets at 11.30 at night.

11.30….at night. And comes back out at 3 in the morning. I dunno bout you guys but I much rather visit when there is more sun then no sun at all. And yes, its damn strange in Finland.

So that’s all for noe. I’m hitting Helsinki and all kinds of other places tomorrow. So excited! Update you guys all about it.