Punchbag post.

There's a lesson to learn from this, I'm telling you.

If there's a huge group project that has to be done, and the entire group has gotten together to discuss who does what, and should you start daydreaming and let your mind wander off too far away just about then, you'd probably snap out of your reverie and realize OMGWTFBBQsauce you have just been given the worst job ever!

That was what happened during LAN.

I was staring at a girl in oversized shirt who talked in an unusually high-pitched voice, and whose sentence is liberally peppered with words like "like", and before I knew it, someone was the source finder for our group essay, another the presenter, and another the "printer". The rest, have their weekends free.

And I? The "editor". Which sounds nice, but really, what actually happens is the two people would email me whole articles, and from there I would have to write 3000 words on the strengths of Malaysia's multiracial society. (3000 words!)

Then I would send the thing over to the printing person, and she'd "sacrifice her printing quota" and print the thing out. Only she would then forget her student card, not be allowed into the library or the Web, and I would have to print the thing myself.

And the rest of the group, have their weekends free.

So while I did the work, I got accused during LAN presentation for not helping out the Presenter with the presentation. This other group started asking us "why you let her present the whole thing, you guys also present mah, how can lidat!"
They even asked if she'd want to join their group, 'cause they honestly thought we were being unfair to her.

And the rest of the group? Cite stage fright as an excuse. Turned out I was the only one who actually offered to do half of the presentation. (But the girl said she could handle it. And she did good!)

I'm fine with doing a lot of work on group projects, but I'm not at all fine with having to do almost the entire thing myself.

I'm also not fine with you saying "I do not have internet at home, I cannot do anything".

You could've stayed at the library and looked for books there, or you could've used the library computer. That's what I did.

And you don't need internet access to use Microsoft Word, now do you?

3000 words isn't easy. I ended up writing about 2000, and would any of them know how much time I spent on it?

They'd go, "nice essay", and as long as they have their marks, they're happy.

My classmates are fun to be with by the way. Things like going to the movies, going for lunch, are nice if they're with you. You have no idea how hilarious some of them can be!

It's pretty much just one person I'm griping about, sorry. That one person sho's getting on everyone's nerves. That one person whom everyone is trying to "one day" tell her she has gotta change.

* * * * *

I miss high school.

If anything like the above happened, I would've told them off, and I would've made them do their share of the work.

If you're asking me why I hadn't confronted them, well it'd feel weird, and besides, we've got another movie date coming up this thursday, what if they suddenly abandon me? Hmmmm?

"Just like my grandmother."

Need... to.. control.. my... urges.

Cannot.. tahan... anymore.

Am this close to getting it already!

* * * * *

Occasionally, people say things that make other people go huhhh?

One of those things would be, "Ekk, sun is burning my eyeballs! I cannot see the road!"

Especially if said very loudly, and right in front of the college, somemore.

Or something like, "I've a green shirt, that is not actually green. Just a bit green... It's sea green, actually."

Or, "I didn't get any A's for my SPM. Honest! -5 minutes later- Eh you know I'm the only person in my school to get A for Perdagangan?"

Or my favourite (and this is said with an earnest face, from boy to girl), "You look pretty today. Just like my grandmother."

* * * * *
From the Recent Keyword Activity page of StatCounter, comes this.

Means someone came to by blog by googling the term death of engfui.

From the US though, so no worries there!

* * * * *

That guy working at the Mac Centre right opposite Taylor's, should really just collect money and not speak at all.

He's looks to be about 40 years old, he's got greying hair, so it's sickening that he goes, "Thank you for coming, my bay-bee!" to the girls paying at the counter.

Or he'd call you, "Mei mei xiao ke ai", literally translated, "Sister Little Cutie".

Or, "piao liang mei mei".

My friend, being Indonesian (and looks it), doesn't understand mandarin, so he called her, "my sayang".

First few weeks, I thought it was funny.

Then it started to get annoying.

Now it's making some of us feel uncomfortable. (It's not what he says. Sometimes, it's how he says it.)

(And he does that to every single girl!)

I thought we were family?

I am surprised.

My dad has been corresponding with my brother via email, and I'm surprised their exchanges were so darn formal.



"Hi Saik,

Further to our discussions this morning(KL time), I have had time to relook at the various options available one more time.

Considering the series of unforeseen obstacles that seem to creep up and also to avoid the possibilty (sic) of making a wrong decision in choice of colleges, it will be prudent to reconsider the merits of staying at BYU to finish your degree and then pursue your master's at a reputable college (be it Chicago or Boston or anywhere else where sculpture has a strong faculty). The advantages of doing so are quite obvious: "



And then he lists out the advantages, in bullet form.


I remember sending a bunch of CNY photos over to my bro, and all that was in my email message was "Nah, photos. Ma asked me to send."

Why all the formality and niceness? Redundant, I say!


But that is not the point.

I was reading it, thinking, Oh how nice my bro got accepted into Chicago, and then I read this -


"Chooi Yen got 9 distinctions for her SPM (nothing much to shout about as so many students got 12 A's)."


Urgh, how can I be proud of myself if my own parents say so matter-of-factly that it is nothing to shout about.

(Speaking of grades, I recieved my SAM semester 1 results in the mail today. Ironically, I fared best in Biology. I'll show you, SPM-Bio-B4!)

In case you're wondering why I'm reading what is supposed to be a Very Private Exchange Between Father and Son, my dad forwarded the mail to me, because he wants me to print out photos of my brother's torn passport that my bro has sent to him.

Yes, passport with an entire page torn off.

Only someone like my brother could achieve.

(Or as my mom would like to believe, only Hainanese people could do. She's always, always telling us, "Sap go hoi nam yan, gau goh ding. Yat goh mm ding zau fat san geng!")

(Literally tanslated, "Ten Hainanese, nine eccentric. One not eccentric, then completely crazy!")

(Something like that la.)

I should be

Satisfied.

So you could tell from my messed up hair in the morning that I've been tossing around at night, wondering what I did wrong that I got a 5C and a 4B.

And what did I come up with? I was too comfortable with myself.

I thought I'd prepared enough, but ah well, too bad for me, it fell short of what is actually 'Enough'.

Wasn't so much dissappointed that I didn't get 11 or 12 A's, was more dissappointed 'cause I knowknowKNOW I couldv'e done better than a 5C or a 4B.

(My B3 in chinese wasn't surpising. I'm surprised I even got a B3, 'cause that is only one step below an A!)

So while the entire group went out to celebrate, I was the only one who went out to try to not think about SPM results.

Even till yesterday, when people like my neighbours came and asked "How many A's?", I was embarrassed to say "Only 9."

You could almost hear them thinking, "Oh, how average."

I think it was 'cause I was surrounded by genius friends who all got 10A's, 11A's, 12A's, 13A's even.

But then I talked to my college mates, I talked to my cousin, and initially, I couldn't for the life of me understand why they went, "Oh, congratulations!"

(First thing I could think of in reply to that was, "Do you know my results?")

Then I realized, I didn't do bad, did I?

I mean, out of the possible 12 A's, I actually got 9!

Went out with my sister to catch a movie, wanted to get myself a CD I've been eyeing, partly to cheer myself up, partly to congratulate myself.

Embrace my Nine, yo!

It was funny, my ex-naighbour drove all the way back to our neiaghbourhood, just to ask my mom what my results were.

My mom said, "9 A's", and all she went was, "Oh."

You could tell she didn't know to congratulate me, or to go, "Don't worry SPM isn't important blahblah." (Her son got 14A's by the way.)

Then she started telling my mom about this "Girl who lives in SS1, whole family also very clever, brother got into Cambidge, sister studied in Stamford, Girl got 14 A's!"

Guess who was she talking about? (Yi Peeeeeeeeeeeng!)

So I got myself cheered up (plus SMSes from friends who care enough to bother SMSing work miracles!), then I found out that to apply for this OTHER thing I wanted to apply for, I need only 8 A1's.

Though I shouldn't even bother because my chances are so uber slim, at least I know I met the minimum requirements! I guess I was most upset that day because I thought I hadn't.

It's unfortunate though, that the 5C I got was for Bahasa Malaysia. I mean, to be eligible for anthing, you have to have "desirable SPM results in both English and Malay."

Grrrrrr, 5C is far from desirable.

Anyway. I'm sorry I had to, um, be unhappy in the hall that day.

Just so you know, sometimes my tears fall for no apparent reason. I could watch people cry, and my tears would start falling, and I wouldn't even be feeling ANYTHING at all.

Weird things like that happen to me sometimes.

* * * * *

Pursuit of Happyness is an okay movie.

It got me crying, of course, but I wonder what movie wouldn't get me crying. Harharhar.

It isn't the kind that keeps you up at night, going over the storyline, then gets you thinking, "I must learn something from this!"

The only nice part was when Chris told Christopher to never let go of his dreams, and that the only reason people tell you you can't do something, is because they can't do it themselves (or something like that).

I need to watch Mukhsin. (Or, the way my sister says it, MUSH-kin.)

* * * * *

Oh, before I hit the 'Publish' button, I gotta do something.

Congrats you guys, every single one of you!

Now we can finally put this entire thing behind us, and focus on CollegeThingsAndSuch.

And pardon the many typos in this post, using a laptop, uncomfortable with its keyboard.