Heal me, I’m heartsick

They fuck you up, your mum and dad.

They may not mean to, but they do.

They fill you with the faults they had

And add some extra, just for you.

(Larkin 1971)

I’m upset. This may or may not be a big deal but it is nonetheless upsetting.

As a recap, in case you guys have forgotten the location of my family members are as follows: My parents are in Malaysia, my sister and her husband lives in Finland, my brother alternates between Chicago and Malaysia, I’m in Australia and together….we are….a Malaysian family. I just need to remind you guys of this considering the fact that its been a while since I blogged frequently.

So my parents have been making plans to visit my sister in Finland since like the beginning of the year. And I know all about their plans cause well, we’re family… supposedly where my mom would go on and on about how much she misses my sister and my sister would go on and on about how she have to clean the house up from top to bottom before my parents get there or she’ll get her ass handed to her- all via Skype. It’s cute really watching mom and daughter fretting about nothing. About a month ago my parents finalized the planning of the trip and they told me that they’re flying to Finland from KL via Frankfurt.

So I asked them, them being my parents, “How long is the transit in Frankfurt?” and my mom would go “Oh I’m not sure. I let your father handles all that.” And then when I ask my dad he’ll go “Oh I dunno, ask your mom. All those things are too complicated for me.” This coming from the man flies out of the country every other month for business. I thought it was kinda weird but I just let it be you know. My parents are both in their 50s and you know…old people are weird. Ahem. Then the night before they fly off I called my parents on the phone, not through Skype mind you, telling them to at least text me as soon as they get in Frankfurt. And if there is free wireless at Frankfurt airport, if I’m online we can chat…help them pass the time you know. My dad was like “Uh huh, sure”, all nonchalantly.

The next day I received a text message from my dad. It was in Malay but it goes something like this:

“Hey sweetie, your mom and I are already in Germany. Your sister and brother-in-law are meeting us here later. We’re going to have a one week vacation here before heading off to Finland. We all love you sweetie.”

Say what now?

I was completely flabbergasted. You know it is not going to be a good day when the first words that comes out of your mouth early in the morning, upon reading the text message from Daddy Dearest was “What in the fucking blue hell?” Nope, never a good day. At first I was just stunned, and then the realization hit me. They been planning this for months and none of them were going to mention it to me. WTF? The thing is I am not even remotely pissed about them vacationing in Germany without me. I mean hello, without my parents could I be studying abroad now in Australia? Not everyone could say that. Who am I to bitch just because I can’t join them in Europe when thanks to my parents I have traveled to other countries before this? I mean, its fine. My parents and my sister have not seen each other for a while, so what if they wanna holiday together. It’s kinda sweet actually. I’m totally cool with it. But what gets me, what really fucked me over is the whole secrecy part.

I mean, the fuck?

I don’t understand it. That’s why neither my mom nor dad could answer how long the “transit” in Frankfurt cause hello! There is no fucking transit in Frankfurt. I don’t get it. Why don’t they just come clean with me. I am 20…something years old. I mean, fucking hell, I live alone here. What, they think I’m still frickin 12 years old and that I would throw a bitch fit cause they were going to go to Germany without me? Throw me a frickin bone here people! I mean come on, gimme some credit. Jesus. So they known this all along, for fucking months and none of them could mention it to me. It’s not the holiday part that royally pissed me off, it’s the fucking secrecy part.

I feel like being in high school all over again when you walk on a bunch of girls talking shit about you, and the moment you show up they suddenly kept quite. Only this time around, it’s not a bunch or hormonal teenage girls lusting over N’SYNC, but my parents- the people who are supposed to love me the most in this mortal existence without reservation and prejudice.

My ass.

At first I was fucking pissed off but then when the anger gone away all that was left was this overwhelming pain. I’m hurt. I’m really hurt. I can’t explain the reason for it but I feel so betrayed by my parents. I feel…..so disappointed in myself that my parents have such a lowly point of view of my character….. that I am already 20something and I am living abroad alone taking care of myself and still they could not see me as an adult. They think so lowly of my maturity and my character that they treated this thing…of what was supposed to be a non-issue on my part, as if I was still a child playing in the sandpit. I mean, people, I am not a child. Have they seen my boobs? How could anyone not see my boobs? My rack is the type of rack that you write home about so don’t tell me they don’t notice it. Do they think that kids have boobs like this? Huh? Huh? Why can’t they be straight with me? I don’t care about Germany. Not only that they think of as a child and immature but also, materialistic cause this what this is about. How my parents, ultimately view me as person.

That I am immature, materialistic and whose opinions are not worth being heard.

And that hurts. That hurts me more then when I dislocated my knee, hurts more then when I fell off the stairs and tore my lips, and it hurts me more then when Snape dies in the 7^th book- and people I cried for two days straight cause of that and went on to wear black and do not wash my hair for a whole week as a tribute to his sacrifice. That shit was heavy. Rowling was heartless towards the end.

But no, this….deceit from my parents hurts more then all of that combined and then some. I could honestly say that from now on, nothing could ever be the same between me and them anymore. The veil have been lifted from my eyes and I see them for what they are:

Deceitful, condescending and inadequate as parents.

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.

 

 

Seriously.

 

 

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.

 

Balik kampung! Ooohhh oooohhh ohhhh balik kampung!!!!

I bet you guys have been relentlessly refreshing this page going "Where oh where is the Constantly Dramatic One? Why is she not updating her blog 3 times a week on alternate days? Why have she gone missing? Whyyyy God!!! Why?!!! I need me some drama and who is there to provide me with some it it's not the Constantly Dramatic One herself?!!!!! Noooooooo!!!!!!!"


*hits refresh*


"She's still not here!! I cannot take it!! I can't fucking take it!!! Arrrggghhh!!"



*stab self in the eye with a fork*



....................................................Okay, in an ideal world in which people builds shrines and worship the ground I walk upon the above situation might hold some truth. But seeing that this is not an ideal world in which no one builds shrines OR worship the ground I walk upon, I bet no one gives a fuck where I've been. But seeing that I do in fact live in an imaginary world where I make believe that everyone -absolutely everyone- adores me, I'm gonna tell you guys where I've been anyways.



Nowhere.



No, really. As it is tradition with all Malaysians to balik kampung during the festive season, I ain't got no kampung to go back to. I am a pureblood of my hometown. My dad grew up here, my mom grew up a town away from here, all my relatives are here. When the rest of Malaysia (read: mudblood) is busy driving back to wherever other state that they hailed from, I'm living it up in KL. Basking in the sheer joy of being in KL without being stuck in traffic jams. That's right, KL with no traffic jams. Yeah mudbloods, suck on that. Y'all never get to feel that cause all of you mudbloods have to go back. Balik kampung.


*looks smug*


Okay, fine. I'm jealous.



I have always been jealous when people tell me they will balik kampung during the festive season. I never get to feel that. The anticipation of going to see your grandparents and favourite cousins that live 3 states away. The long road trip with the whole family. Okay maybe the thought of being stuck in the car with my mom when she's pissed off about something or other for 5 hours is not that attractive, but nevertheless it's different. The joy of playing fireworks, running around the kampung house, chasing the chickens..........so quaint. So old skool. So...............different from the noisy and shady life in the city. I mean I bet in the kampung when y'all open the window during the first day of Aidilfitri, you can see paddy fields as far as the eyes can see. Complete with a scarecrow. When I opened my window here during the first day of Aidilfitri- and I see my 57 year old neighbour washing his car, half naked, beer gut hanging out. Not a pretty sight.



You see where I'm coming from?




Nevertheless celebrating Aidilfitri in the city has it's advantages though. First and foremost- the wireless connection. Mwahahahahhaha!! I noticed that most of my favourite Malay-themes blogs, written by Malay people of course have not been updating. I bet it's cause they all balik kampung and can't get a decent connection. Hahaha!! I bet it's a bitch trying to get connection by the paddy field. I can get connection anywhere here in the city, bitches. Y'all have kampung, I got wireless. Also the cable TV connection here is also better and I'm thinking at night I wont be attacked by an army of evil, hungry mosquitoes either. Riiiigghhht?


I'm making assumption here of course.


But then you know I will not have that bakar lemang or dodol making experience either. *Le sigh*. Urgh, what the hell am I talking about. You people with kampungs to go back to win. So be thankful and stop grousing bout the long drive home, about the bus ride over 4 states or the fact that you can's stand that one bitchy Aunt back in the kampung. Count your blessings and know that each time you are there, you are making kampung memories of Aildilfitri we pureblooded city kids will never get the chance to have.




You lucky bitches.



P/S: I wanna apologize to my international readers if this post makes no sense to y'all. Think of it as a Malaysian cultural lesson, brought to you exclusively and dramatically by the Constantly Dramatic One. And yes, there are references to Harry Potter in this post. Thanks for noticing.

Pop culture psychology

"I've always believed that readers choose favourite characters who either remind them of themselves or who act as they wish they could."
Kazuya Minekura

I was soo crazy about the Harry Potter series back in the day that I was...well there was no better word for this - Obsessive. Its a good thing that I wasn't living in the UK or I bet you my ass I would have definitely been one of those insane fans that stalk their idol. Dude, I would have totally stalked JK Rowling. Seriously. I would. I even Google Earth her house. I kid you not.

Anyway my favourite character out of the series wasn't Harry or Hermione but Ron Weasley .

The reason why I loved Ron so much was because I saw so much of me in him. Back in the day I was jealous, sarcastic, hotheaded and I was always stuck in someone else's shadow. I can always relate with Ron and how he felt about needing to prove himself to his family. Everything that Ron did would never be something new, one of his brothers would have done it before him and done it better too. Its the curse of the youngest child. Always coming second and living in someone else's shadow. And I can relate to that. I can still relate to that but now that I am a little bit older and becoming my own person. I no longer feel like I am living in anyone else's shadow...well, not as much as last time anyway.

And then came the angry phase. The everyone-hates-me-nobody-loves-me phase. Its called being a teenager. Enters Carmen Lowell of Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants. Angry, bitter, dramatic and all around pissed off. Goddamn. I was her.

This woman threw a rock through her dad's window. I threw a paper weight across the room and shattered my mirror (not one of my proudest moment mind you) but you see the similarity? She hurt herself, so did I. She planned to run away from home, so did I. And the only thing that holds her together wasn't her family but the friends she had. The similarity was so close that my friends who read the book would tell me that when they read it, the can't get my face out when they think of Carmen.

These days I don't really see myself in any of the books I read (ok maybe with the exception of Becky Bloomwood) but lately people who are close to me have been saying that a certain TV character is reminding them of the Constantly Dramatic One. Intriguing. Who?

Wilhelmina Slater of Ugly Betty.

Amusing how the Constantly Dramatic One managed to come all the way from finding similarity with a sidekick to having similarities with a scary leading villain. I don't think I am Wilhemina though but waaaay too many people have pointed it out. So for the benefit of a doubt, I say maybe a little bit. When I am pissed off. And being bitchy. And sometimes...the Constantly Dramatic One can be a little bit.....uuhh...scary. At times. I stress - at times.

But if you asked, I rather be Amanda. She is sooooo deliciously bitchy.

Seriously, I would build a shrine and worship this woman.

Thank you for everything, Harry and Joanne...

I write this now with feelings of pain and overwhelming sadness...which is silly because the pain that I'm feeling come from losing the people who wasn't mine to begin with and even sillier that they have never existed. I'm talking about the pain of saying goodbye to Harry, Ron, Hermione, the Weasleys especially Fred, the Marauders of Hogwarts and all those wonderful characters that have sprung out from the extraordinary imagination of Joanna Kathleen Rowling.

You know you're onto something great when you read a book so great that you want to be friends with the characters and that when they feel sad so do you and when they die, you moped around the house for weeks mourning the loss of such a beloved friend who just a character that never existed.

I've begun reading Harry Potter when I was 12 and ever since then, it has made a huge impact in my life. And in my mind that these wizards and withes are my friends. Something that I am no shameful to admit because it is a feeling that millions of people around the world will echo as well. Growing up, you learn a lot of things from the people around you, from the movies that you watch and especially from the books you read and the Harry Potter series have helped me through that a lot. There was once a time in my life where I felt like an outcast with nowhere that I belong. Even friends don't feel so great but the books gave me a place where I felt belong. Just as Hogwarts have been a home to Harry and Sirius and Severus and Tom Riddle, so has it been mine, once upon a time when the pain of adolescent and growing up was too much to bear.

Now with the ending of book 7, I bid my friends in the magical world goodbye. I will not know what they will be up to anymore but at least the ending was satisfactory and proved to be a good closure. Now it is time for me, and I guess millions more to heal from the pain of parting with good friends. All good things must come to an end, it is after all for the greater good... As Dumbledore would have said.

So thank you Joanne, thank you for weaving a world of wonderful characters of joy and happiness and fear and despair. Thank you for the great memories and the lessons. Thank you for the good friends that you have created for your readers. Thank you for Hogwarts, a school where everyone belongs but most of all thank you for sharing the adventures with us.

Constant Drama and the 5th Harry Potter installment

So I went to see the 5th Harry Potter movie: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix on the night it premiered in Malaysia. And I have to tell you this, it did not dissapoint...much.

Well seeing that the books played a Friggin Huge Role when I was growing up. When I say Huge- I mean obssesed. Like crazy obssesed. I was a fan before it became over-commercialized. I was a fan even before Chris Columbus started reading the book to his children at night. I was a fan before there was even a script written up for Joanne (see I'm on 1st name basis with her). I was a fan before the fad. I was there, bitches and you aint.

Back in the day I had a luvvvver, and his name was Ron Weasley. Not the one in the movies, as in the one from the pages of the books. The one that did not exists? That was my lover and boy was I in love. I wrote his name all over the pages of my school books and I dont think that any book survived my school years without "Ron Weasley" or at least "RW 3> CD" scribbled all across it. Man, he was my luuuuvvver. HAHAHA!

Anyways, the 5th movie is good. On the scale of 1 to 5, I give it a 3. Satisfactory but not the greatest and I have a feeling that the director and the screenwriters try their damnest to stick to the book from whence it came and as a fan of the HP series, I thank them. Go check out the movie, fan or not its still pretty damn entertaining but do bring someone who knows the books coz I think that this installment have hidden gems here and there that only the readers will know and can tell it to you.

For now I will retreat to bed seeing that I'm writing it to you right after I come back from the midnight premier and its 3.31 in the morning. Maybe one day...I'll publish the Many fanfics that I have written for HP. Many of which revolving Ron and uhh uhh...some girl that resembles greatly of me. Wasn't intentional, just coincidental *winks*

FYI: The Ron that was my Luvvverr lived in my head and he was sooooo much better looking than this kid.