Sunday, January 29, 2006

What Age Do You Act?

Random quiz from BlogThings. Revealing?

You Are 22 Years Old

Under 12: You are a kid at heart. You still have an optimistic life view - and you look at the world with awe.

13-19: You are a teenager at heart. You question authority and are still trying to find your place in this world.

20-29: You are a twentysomething at heart. You feel excited about what's to come... love, work, and new experiences.

30-39: You are a thirtysomething at heart. You've had a taste of success and true love, but you want more!

40+: You are a mature adult. You've been through most of the ups and downs of life already. Now you get to sit back and relax.
What Age Do You Act?

Hmm apparently, I behave like a 22-year-old. Which makes me.. "excited about what's to come... love, work and new experiences." Now, I suppose that is very true to a certain extent. And considering I am turning 20 at the end of this year, the quiz can't really be that far off the mark. But... 22?? Arggh this just brings to mind something else. Went into Ted Baker on Sunday with JJ. The Colombian quantum-physics graduate salesman thought I was 22 and JJ 23. Fancy that! Short little me of the red-pink-magenta scarf, n JJ of the boyish clean-cut looks! Aw man.. couldn't decide whether to feel insulted or flattered in a way. I suppose that makes me someone who no longer questions authority and have more or less found my place in the world..?

Now, what age do you act?

Saturday, January 21, 2006

Manchesta

If you had just finished four exams within five days, felt too bored to be sleepy, and lived in a student city, what would you do? At least I own some decent boots and warm clothes to fend off the wind. Need to get out a bit more. Weekly bus pass expiring today - might as well make the most out of my two quid. (RM13.40!)

So it was People and Organisations done with, and a sadly limited budget considering I'd just blew 35.05 quid (after discounts and more discounts) in HMV. Chilly windy day, so I was wearing my black wool-mix trousers with the buttons and a long sleeved top, looking rather more formal than usual in the cream coat. Headed down to AMC to catch Memoirs of a Geisha, managed to squeeze in a trip to the public library before meeting Joo Hwee et al in St Peter's Square.

You could just fall in love with central Manchester from the top of a bus, never getting off the same draughty 142/3, just ride round and round and watch the world go by. Always faces waiting at bus stops, faces hovering on the edge of familiarity so you often reach out to smile at the stranger in the street, faces relaxing in the warmth of Europe's cafe culture, faces etched with the tension of unending bills and deadlines.

Down town, the girls seem a slightly different breed that those you encounter along the uni stretch of Oxford Road. Primark puffy jackets and glitzy bags aside, there is still that general trend of scatty clothes, too little or too much makeup, thin girls' pot bellies peeking from over hipsters. They chatter fast and high, proud Mancunian accents slightly generic, hair scraped back with Superdrug hairbands, smug from within their security groups.

Enter a different territory the moment you cross the Precinct and head towards the Curry Mile. Girls here are sleek and slim, covertable. Size Fours or Sixes that you could love and hate at the same time, brains in the top 5% of any country's population. Hair here is generally worn long and loose; natural is in, sexy. Large stylish totes hold stationary and lecture notes anchored with lip gloss, and one is left with the impression that these girls really do have it all.

So, does Sayuri have it all by the end of Memoirs? Costumes and sets were fantastic, but I found the movie a tad shallow overall, though admitedly I've not read Arthur Golden's bestselling novel or Geisha of Gion by the woman Golden's Sayuri was based upon. Had a long relaxing walk back from AMC to Jati, getting to know Joo Hwee's 2nd yr A&F bunch. Yes, there really was free food at Jati (apparently bucket-loads of ayam rendang or something like that), but the place was chock-full of people and big-shot Nazri's speech was so long-winded and disjointed (so I gathered from JJ's loose translation, me being too lazy to make the effort and dig out my rusty BM) that we trickled out early and went to have Chinese instead. Discovered a fabulous restaurant thanks to Shyan - Red Chili, tucked away at the side of Chinatown, serving the HOTTEST Szechuan chinese ever. A few beers and some tears later, I was on the bus again, riding through Mancunian darkness and streetlights to my home away from home.

P.S. yes the skin and layout's changed - inspired by dear ole Kams. Was kinda fed-up with the blue dots Blogger skin (especially since Shahril's using the same one hehe), and so here it is, my newly-revamped blog. Apologies to those who visited when it was going through about three hideous stages, but as you can see, it's all sorted now. Love the texture of the reed mat, though the main body isn't exactly the easiest to read from. Spacing and font of previous posts has been screwed up, but on the other hand not really expecting people to go back and read history. Kinda like the nostalgia of the lonely bench under the leaves after a rain - anyone fancy joining me there?

Sunday, January 15, 2006

And so once more we begin, anew

I would just like to start this post with some unabashed heartfelt cheesyness. After all, isn't all the time I can get away with being soppy and truthful, right? =D We've seen the first five years of this millenium come and go - the sparkle and glamour of the 21st century has started to fade and we settle into routine. (Who here really remembers what the y2k fuss was all about?) I could say, everyday is one day less you have to live (gee, thanks sean!), or - everyday is one day more you've survived to live. What more can I write? Just that may this 2006 be a year of more discovery, within and without, a year for growth and containment, a year for living.

Sitting here at my desk in Manchester, first morning of my second term as a science student (hah!) in management, it's time to take stock of the year that has passed so quickly. For my part, I'd say 2005 really is a year I'll remember as THE year of extraordinary peaks and troughs. Just bear with me, and I'll give ya the highlights chronologically.


January saw
AS retakes and A Level mocks come and go, with varied results. Thank goodness we had another 5 months to up the grade where required. The Mulliner International Fair was a veritable success; we exceeded our target of 1,000 pounds in net profit. My, that really was a hectic but satisfying time. Never folded so many origami bunnies and cranes in my life. Salesgirl and manager at full pitch.

Left for home slightly earlier at the end of March, missing out on Mulliner Revue (no major regrets there). Decision time was finalising my firm and insurance choices for
university, seeing that I'd finally received my rejection from Warwick late January (not that I wanted to go there anyway huh). History of Art thesis on pre- and post-Independance classicism in Malaysian architecture was a tough cookie but all that hard work hanging out of moving cars taking photographs was well worth the A. Business Studies coursework and final revision towards exams spelled STRESS; certainly didn't study as hard as I could (should?) have, but s'ppose that was enough huh?

The end of secondary education in July was a bit of a downer for me. Made a short trip to my previous alma mater - Wells Cathedral School - one last time. Two lots of goodbyes for me. French composer Hector Berlioz (of the 5-movement
Symphonie Fantastique fame) once said, "Time is a great teacher, but unfortunately it kills all its students". Upon return to Sherbs there was preparation for our Leavers' Ball, but before that news finally broke to me that my maternal grandmother had lung (and later bone) cancer. I still remember sitting by the public phone wrapped in only a towel, trying desperately to stay calm, and later breaking down in the shower. They said she had only six months. Sat next to Tamara during our "Night of Eastern Promise" - turns out she and her mother were arrested that evening for alleged links with the Russian mafia...

Concerts throughout the year at Sherborne was preparation for the
Madrigals and Chamber Orchestra trip to Perigueux, France. Many thanks to my music teachers Martin "Mr W" Walker and Philippa Stevens for 2 wonderful years of music-making, as well as others like Tony "Sherburnchick" Urbainczyk and John "JJ" Jenkins. France was a tough time for me, what with general burn-out, cancer at home, and blazing hot weather, as well as the constant pressure to perform well. But it was a brilliant trip, with good food, good friends, and far more ups than downs. Nothing quite beats lots of music, friendship, wine, food and travel all at once... At around the same time, my paternal grandfather was finally admitted to hospital with long-term bleeding from an ulcer in his ileum. Arriving in KLIA mid-July was a huge, huge relief.

Summer holidays
wasn't exactly the ideal, martini-sipping getaway I'd imagined. Spent time with family, gradually coming to terms with the reality of time and age. Realised what it really means to love another, the whole package of pain and pleasure. Learnt dependance after so many years of being self-sufficient; learnt patience; learnt to let go. Unpleasant incident with the plant-fanatic neighbour which doesn't quite seem to have resolved itself... August 18, the day of reckoning. Brilliant news of A Level results from careers teacher Polly English, and off to Manchester it was! I'd only just scraped an A in Business Studies - but what did that matter? =P

Preparation and settling in to uni life went off without a glitch. The shit started later when I had to juggle assignment and uni commitments, traveling/shopping for a wonderful new cello, a headache-inducing love life, ups and downs at home, and finally anaemia. But other than that Manchester's been simply fabulous as they say - new friends, flexible challenging studying, autonomy, beautiful weather, plenty of distractions for a girl in UK's greatest student city.

Comin' Up in 2006
1) 6 exams until end of January. Can't quite say I'll do brilliantly, but the best I can.
2) Chinese New Year - 5th one away from home, but it'll be pretty exciting this year I'm sure. Bring on the cookies and yee sang! Oh yeah not to forget the hong pau but then there's hardly anyone married in Manchester n'est pas?
=P
3) Complete my TEFL. All that stands between me and a diploma at 19 years old is the grammar awareness module to supplement the intensive weekend training.
4) Spanish beginner's lessons. Decided since I can still communicate in French, might as well try out something different, widely-used and relatively easy...
4) Pulling my weight in 2nd sem.
5) Amsterdam in April? Rembrandt's 400th birthday, the perfect time for an amateur photographer to go capture the tulips and tourists. Turkey's out of the question with increasing numbers of bird flu cases. ...Prague?
6) Sean - baby cousin bro coming to Manchester for the remainder of my April break, ostensibly to check out UK and college/uni life. Want him pretty near if/when he comes for his diploma in performing arts. Heck, in fact I need to keep in touch with the rest of my cousins a bit more...
7) 2nd sem exams and end of 1st year - May/June
8) 3 months summer holiday in which I will (or rather, hope to): work for 2 months, get in lots of music practice, shop! maybe join Ben R in Borneo
9) 2nd year uni, will be staying in Wilmslow Park! wahey... private's more expensive but less shitty than uni accommodation. Double bed means I can have lots of ppl come visit and stay over, plus far more space to practice cello, better maintainance of facilities and better security.
10) Finally, play hard, but gotta work harder this year...

For those who don't know, we've just found out a few days ago from my grandmother's latest CT scan that it's spread to her brain. In the middle of a radiotherapy course now; hopefully it'll be effective. Have learnt to say goodbye this hols - radiotherapy'll affect her memory, cause her hair to fall out. Whatever happens, whether or not she'll be there when I go home in the summer, she'll never be the same. Finding out about this was nearly as big a shock as hearing about her cancer for the first time in July.

One of my favourite photos, the best "accidental" shot I've ever taken. (Moat around Bishop's Palace, Wells) Such fleeting beauty only serves as a reminder of life's impermanence. Lynn once said it's better than having my grandmother drop dead from a heartattack - s'ppose it's better to have a bit more time to resolve matters, give family and friends a chance to come to terms with it. But prolonged illness and pain ain't the best way to go either. Told JJ (Juan Jin, not John Jenkins!) I wanna go like his grandfather, peacefully with family all around me. I know, I know - morbid, can't help thinking about it so young, but don't we all wish for the same? She used to call me "ugly duckling", with the hope that I'd grow into a beautiful swan...