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.

Wow, I am totally gonna piss people off with this one.

You know what I can’t stand?



Tattoos. Yeah, I said it. Ohhhh wow, the Constantly Dramatic One doesn’t like tattoos. Call the Cool Police, some bitch is not bending to what the masses think is cool.

Here’s the thing, I don’t hate them….I merely think that they are tacky. Some of them turn out to be great, works of art in fact. Elfie has a bitchin tattoo on her back that even I have to admit, albeit, begrudgingly is pretty awesome. But most tattoos….not so much.

Here’s the thing, tattoos are tacky. I mean, there’s a chance of 3 out of 5 if you would to go to any tattoo parlour that you might possibly come out with a tacky-ass tattoo. And here’s the deal: it is a permanent. Sure, you can laser it off but it just ends up with a bigass scar. And a bigass tattoo scar is just one step down from a massive neon sign on your forehead saying “I am a fucking dumbass”.

Now, I know at this point I am offending a shitload of people who thinks tattoos are so cool. Or maybe I’m not. Who reads this crap anymore anyways? Fuck if I know. I just got a giant beaver crawled up my ass and now I am overcome with the need to bitch about it.

People say they get tattoos cause it symbolizes individually, cause it makes them look edgy and badass, cause its cool. Bitch, ain’t nothing individual about something that every other Tom, Dick and Mariah can get. I know people here who have never left the country, who have never participated in any cultural activities that is not part of their cultural background, and have never ever been in contact with an indigenous person- suddenly, think they all deep and shit because they got some tribal tattoo that says “faith” or “hope” or “love” or some other lameass shit like that.

Fucking with me.

Who the fuck are you to have a tribal tattoo? Who? Back in the day, tribal warriors are tattooed because they fought for something. They proved themselves. They have to kill a jungle cat or a crazed baboon or something...but definitely not a koala. Therefore they get tattoos to show what a big deal of a warrior they are. They earned it. It’s their reward.

You on the other hand: is a white collar, spoilt piece of fuck that thinks he’s all that cause he paid some tattooist to inked some kind of tribal shit on his back- that makes no sense to either the tattooist or himself. But hey, that’s what getting a tribal tat all about right? Being badass cause you inked some shit you don’t understand on your skin. Unless of course “badass” in this plane of existence means “dumb piece of fuck”, which of course is what you are.

And then there those people who have Chinese calligraphy that says something like “destiny” or “other lameass bullshit”. And again, not understanding squat of Chinese. Cause its cool. In fact that’s a pattern that I’ve noticed. People getting words or language they don’t understand tattooed onto themselves. Like Chinese, Sanskrit, Latin or any other fancy schmancy languages. Why?

You don’t understand it. Your tattooist doesn’t understand it. The chance of you fucking it up is so high, it makes Mount Everest looks minuscule. So why do it? Whose to say that, that translation of the word or the phrase is correct? I speak Malay and you don’t so I’m gonna tell you that “Gampang” is “Destiny” and now you gonna walk around with a bigass tattoo of “Gampang” on your back cause you think its destiny. But its not bitch, its not. And now you're stuck with that for life.

And don't get me started on the naked women tattoos. Goddamn sonofabitch, that shit is tacky. Ain’t nothing else could seal your fate in the Douchebag Hall of Fame or secured you a permanent position in the Misogynist Fucktards biweekly club meeting faster then a tat of a blond girl, with big boobs and skinny waist getting tentacle rape by a giant octopus in a field of skeletons on your arm. Oh yeah, that’s sexy. As a woman, I have always want to marry and have lots and lots of babies with manly, tattooed men who like to watch their women getting tentacle fucked in a field of skeletons. Oh yeah, what a dreamboat.

And those lower back tattoo for women? They are called “Tramp stamps”. When I was growing up, I wanted to become a detective, a zoologist, a journalist, fuck- even the first female Prime Minister of Malaysia…but never have I ever wanted to be a “tramp” or want a stamp of being a tramp be branded onto me. Seriously.

I have to admit that some tattoos are pretty awesome. But very few and far between. Most of them are just tacky, and in the long run- a really fucking stupid decision that you can never take back. But I am alone in this one. No one else I know, or know of have anything against tattoos. The consensus is they’re cool.

And I’m the uncool fat kid standing in the corner realizing how stupid all you sheep are. Life’s tough like that.

Raging Teenage Hormones; Part Deux

I’m so excited!!

It’s Supanova tomorrow!! Basically Supanova is this pop culture convention where science and fantasy geeks congregate. The fact that I use the word “congregate” in a sentence shows how big of a fucking geek I am. There will be cos-plays, glompings, competitions and guest stars. This quite frankly, is the only reason why I’m going tomorrow. Other then the whole I-am-super-geek part. Let’s not forget that shall we?

You guys!!!!! Spike’s gonna be there!!!! I think I can die now.

Wait, what you mean “Who’s Spike?” You dirty bastards.

For all those who grew up in the 90s, you guys remember how big Buffy the Vampire Slayer was right? When I was in high school, Buffy was the shit. We used to have discussion groups in the school the next day….. discussing everything that went on in whatever the episode that went on the night before. Every generation has a TV show. The 70s had "Happy Days", the early 80s had "the Wonder Years", the early 90s had Beverly Hills 90210 (the original, not the bullshit that goes on right now)….and my batch? We had Buffy. Okay we also had "Bill Nye the Science Guy" and "Charmed" and yeah okay but Buffy was definitely Top 5.

Ah Buffy……… when vampires were actually cool and not sissy emo-bitches that glitter when the sun hits them. Memo to Stephanie Meyer: Vampires burn and then die in the sun. They do not glitter like over-the-hill Vegas show girls? Comprehende?

Anyways, there was Spike. The Big Bad. Villain turned comic relief turned anti-hero….and all around the object of my unbridle, hormonal, teenage lust. Man, he was a sexy bitch. It wasn’t just me. My best friend and I used to fight over who would get him at the back of the class during Biology. Fucking stupid ok. But wah….he was sexy. The platinum hair, the British accent, the tight leather pants, the witty exchanges….….more of a rock star then a vampire really and man, did he rocked my world. I used to have a poster of him at my desk and just used to stare at it instead of doing my Add Math exercises. This would explain why I flunk Add Maths during the finals. Heh.

Ahhh……..to be young and full of raging teenage hormones again…………

Anyways, that was then and I haven’t thought of Spike since like….well the last decade. The show died, I went to college and there are other guys to lust over namely….you know…*cough* Clive Owen *cough* until one day during study group, my friend oh so nonchalantly mentioned it. “Oh CD, did you used to watch Buffy? That Spike guy gonna be at Supanova you know….”……and the obsession was renewed.

I know its so passé! But wah, I feel like a teenager again. Watching Buffy on Thursday night and then going to school the next day all excited to discuss the hotness that is Spike….and sometimes the plot too. I mean, it’s not everyday you get to meet the dude that used to be a poster hanging on your wall. This is big to me you know. Like a blast from the past. The only thing that I’m bummed about is that all my school mates that used to worship him as well can’t be there tomorrow. Especially my best friend. Would have been so much fun…... Just like old times.

But you know what’s different this time around? This time he’s in the flesh. And this time…………… I’m legal. Ahem.

Healed

I’ve been gone a long time.

I’ve been busy. I’ve been out and about. I’ve been cooped out in my room doing assignment. I’ve been researching. But most of all…….I’ve been licking my wounds.

I know……….it’s been awhile and to tell you the truth, I needed all that time. I mean, people, I have to deal with the thought of me being so revolting that I actually made a dude….gay.

It is not a good feeling. One I wouldn’t even wish on those I venomously hate. No one. That’s how bad of a feeling it is. Was.

I tried to play it down. Make a joke out of it. Made a shitload of dick jokes out of it specifically but when I step back and examine the issue like an adult; I have to admit to myself that it was a blow. A huge one to my ego, to my vanity, to my sense of worth as a woman……..I mean, the fuck? I am so repulsive that I turned a guy gay?

Of course gay men reading this would go “Oh huney, its not you. We always have been gay. Its just nature”. Of course, but it’s never a good feeling to know that you are the last one, the last final straw for him, that shoved him out of the closet. To entertain the idea that you are that revolting that this would have happen to you.

I’m over it now. I took my sweet time at it of course; it’s just something big that I had to deal with at my own time. But I’m back now and ladies and gentlemen…..and it’s back to regular scheduled bitchings from now on.

Stay tuned. Bitches.

Elusive

Hey guys, I know I have been gone for a long time.

Its not that it is because my life is ridiculously going spectacular at the moment. It is not. It is just that I don't have the mood to write right now. When there's no flow, then there's no flow. Can't force it.

Writing's funny like that. It gotta come from inside or it'll come off affected and forced. And nothing worst then someone trying to be funny as opposed to is funny. So yeah, when the flow comes back, when the words are spewing out of me, when the inspiration can no longer be held back- I'll be back.

But for now, there's a brick wall where creativity should be. And void and nothingness where words should exist.