hate blogger. but loved my weekend.

I hate blogger. I just lost my whole post on my trip to the turtle island. AND IT HAD PHOTOS.

ok.

never mind.

not gonna get upset.

*letting the moment pass*

Anyway, my weekend was relatively better than last week's. I spent Saturday with another Melissa (Cham) and it was a nice girly day, with our two hour lunch and traipsing the mall with no purpose. Ah bliss. Saturday night I headed to Shenanigan's with my friends. Same old routine: loud music, two bottles of Chivas, spinning room and plenty of dancing. Some drama rama with a couple of the boys which involved upset girlfriends and cutting words. Yours truly was too busy getting her groove on to be bothered, heh heh. Not that I don't care about my friends and their soap opera lives but sometimes, a good night out should be a good night out. Plain and simple and selfish.

I got home at 2:30am and instead of sleeping, I logged on and found a Cubby in Canada to chat with. Till 4:30am. Happy me. Sunday was alright. Lunch with Wilson and friends at a Japanese restaurant, watched them play basketball in the evening and was off to visit Cubby's family. He's got such a lovely family and they always make me feel at ease. And visiting them made me miss him a teensy less. Happy me all over again.

This weekend, I'm off to the annual Mt. Kinabalu International Climbathon. Better than another weekend of moping around the house feeling blue, eh?

On the turtle trail...

Howdy everybody. I know these aren't much but i couldn't post more because:

a) blogger failed me
b) blogger failed me yet again
c) blogger is a big, fat b****
d) all of the above.

Anyway, a quickie on my recent trip to the Turtle Islands Park in Sandakan. A must-visit for anyone, especially if you're already in this part of the world. I'd write a whole entry on my trip but I just complete an article on the same topic last week...Yawn. The lazy man's shortcut? Pick up October's issue of 'Sabah Malaysian Borneo'. Alternatively, visit the website at www.sabahtourism.com sometime next month and look for it (shameless advertising, i know). Photos below!

Selingan beach. Very pretty but not much to see when snorkelling. But check out the mushroom cloud!


My humble abode for the weekend. Bathroom is dorm-style. Bedrooms are basic. I'm here for the turtles anyway...


The moment we've all been waiting for! Time check: 9:27pm. 82 eggs. Bravo mama turtle! No flashlights allowed and no standing in front of the turtle. The rangers have a no nonsense attitude when it comes to fumbling and stubborn tourists. Which I personally think is great.



The hatchery. So many baby turtles, so little time! At night, there were some rats gnawing away at an escaped hatchling...Traumatising stuff to watch but that's nature's way.




Isn't she a beauty? There are dozens of turtles around the beach in the morning but you have to an early bird to catch a glimpse of them heading back to sea. This one was kinda stuck among the rocks but she pulled through ok.



And finally, the Flying Eagle/Jet Li Wannabe of Selingan Island. Hai-ya!

Vroom vroom.

I had an interesting conversation with one of my guy friends the other day over a plate of rojak and lemon teh ping. He was having problems with his long term girlfriend. His father, probably hoping to shed some light but failed miserably, asked him, “Why don’t you just find another girlfriend?” Actually, his exact words were more like, “No other girls out there meh?” but I’m trying to make it sound less…Hakka.

Upon which my friend shook his head in disbelief. “Why does my father think that finding another woman is the answer? What happened to working things out? It’s just like buying a car,” he said.

Okay. It SOUNDED like a callous chauvinistic remark but, God bless his soul, he explained before bodily damage was done.

“Everyone needs or wants a car right? So you get one. Something to suit your needs. Something you are happy with. A good ride you can afford,” he sneaked in a smirk here but quickly wiped it off once he saw my ‘not funny’ expression. “So anyway, you get a car, you take care of it and it takes you places. But it’s gonna have problems now and then right? Doesn’t mean at the first squeak or engine trouble, you chuck it and grab a new car. You fix it. Maybe it just needs some attention,” he concluded.

Like a girlfriend. Or a boyfriend for that matter.

It made so much sense. See, maybe today you can only afford a Kancil (small Malaysian car – so lightweight it only takes four men to lift it. I’ve seen this). One day it breaks down. Too much effort to fix it. So you see a newer model on the road, the Kancil Supreme (less lightweight. Takes five men to lift). Now you want THAT one. So you trade in for something supposedly better. And then this breaks down too. Soon you decide you can afford a BMW after all! But six months down the line you realize: It breaks down too.

Moral: Cars are cars. There are going to be squeaks and scratches. The top range of Mercedes can break down just as suddenly as your dad’s old minivan. Like relationships. It’s not a matter of finding the ‘best’ car. But the one that best suits you and your needs. If I have a family of six, I’m not gonna buy a 2-seater right? Same rules apply. Sometimes, cars and men look good at first glance. They still have the showroom shine about them for the first couple of months. But when you really put the pedal to the metal, only then can you test their true performance.

And trust me, only the worthwhile ones will prevail.

Of walking and weekends.

My weekend was a relatively quiet one. It's my first weekend without The Cubby and it's probably not fair to say this, but it was one big snooze-fest. I guess I'm just used to having him around every weekend, be it having lunch, braving the ridiculous weekend traffic, hitting the cinemas, going to Watson's ("I swear I'm just gonna look...") or just watching him submit to my cats. And the things he makes me do is unbelievable. He has this habit of making me WALK everywhere. Good for you, get some fresh air etc etc etc. We would park in Api-Api Centre and walk to Centrepoint. Ok so that's not exactly 50 kilometres but sometimes it feels like it. I'm not much of a walker. Sadly, I am one of those who prefer the car pulling up right to my doorstep. I suppose another reason why I'm not fond of walking around town is because KK isn't the most pedestrian friendly city. If you work where I work, you'd understand. There's undisciplined drivers to look out for, idiots harrassing women as they walk by ("psst, psst...lawa lah!"), spit on the road (i still don't know why some people do this) and 2-inch wide walkways. Oh and there's the crazy Malaysian heat or pelting rain. Take your pick.

I heart KK/Sabah/Malaysia very much though, so spare me the hate-mail.

But ok, fine. I admit Haw has a point about walking. It saves a lot of time in most cases and a short walk never killed anyone. Yet.

I spent Saturday night drinking with friends. Been a while since I had beer. That first gulp is the best. After that, everything spirals into an oblivion of giggling and spinning walls. Sunday was kept simple with a one on one lunch with my mum. And then it was back home to curl up on the sofa, watch Desperate Housewives for three hours straight and retreat to my room with a headache. I also took the time to sort through my mountains of magazines. I have teen magazines dating back to 1992. Time to throw 'em out you think? However, the sentimental slob in me decided to keep a couple, just so I can show my kids 15 years from now the kind of stuff I read. Imagine that. I'll still have these magazines in time for Wawasan 2020!

Right now, I'm taking a break from work. Blogging from the office is so unethical but as long as no one gets hurt and life as we know it continues to move on, I don't see the problem.

Stay classy, San Diego. (I love Anchorman. Must. watch. again)

Saturday.

It's 10:08am on a Saturday morning and I've decided to come to the office. I'm all alone, except for the security and front desk people downstairs. I kinda like the peace and quiet. It's not all that quiet though - I've got Earth, Wind and Fire singing about a Brick House in the background. Groovy. I've got so much to do and so little time. Sitting around at home waiting for Monday isn't gonna get anything done so I figured I might as well come into work. And what better way to start my writing engine than to blog. Me so clever. Me so procrastinator.

I went to watch a movie last night. My Super Ex-Girlfriend starring Uma Thurman and Luke Wilson. What is it with movie titles these days? First there's "Snakes On a Plane". Now this. And who could forget the classic, "I Know What You Did Last Summer" and its sequel, "I STILL Know What You Did Last Summer." My brother went out to buy a dvd the other day and I couldn't believe the title:

"I Always Know What You Did Last Summer"

Seriously, we get it.

Back to the Super Ex-Girlfriend. It was entertaining to say the least. Just strange to see The Bride flying around in tasteless clothes (really) saving New York City.

G-Girl. Can someone please tell me what the G stands for?

It's a nice play on role reversal (woman saving man) and I enjoyed the sex scenes. As perverted as that sounds, allow me to explain. There was a scene where Uma and Luke Wilson were in bed and she was straddling him. And she goes, "Ready?" and starts humping him (fully-clothed, nothing too graphic here). She's so strong that the bed is slamming against the wall so hard and everything begins to crack. It's pretty funny, seeing Luke helpless and 'roughed up' so to speak. At the end she breaks the bed and collapses beside him, "I'm sorry. I'll get you a new one." He looks at her in exhaustion saying,"A bed or a penis?"

It was entertaining. Watch it if you want some mindless entertainment and to see Ms. Thurman in a completely different element. She's got the weirdest nose though.

I also bought a TM iTalk calling card yesterday. It's been a while since I had to use one of these things and was so bloody frustrated when I couldn't get through. I was on the verge of tears and ran to my brother asking for help.

Me: I keep dialling this number. It's the correct one, I swear. I called it from my handphone yesterday *trying not to sob*

Him: *takes a look at the number.Looks at me* Are you calling using a landline right now?

Me: Yes! I don't understand... *hyperventilating*

Him: *hands me back the card* It's an international call. You have to dial zero zero to call out from a landline.

Me: Oh.

Yes, I got through after that.

Anyway, it's time to get some real work done. You guys have a good weekend now.

Focus.

It's all about focus.

Keep your eye on the prize.

Don't let the small things get in the way. Always see the big picture and you will realise everything else doesn't matter. It's just white noise, trying to distract.

I keep telling myself to remember what really matters. And that all the heartache I go through will lead to something good. All those times he made me cry and made me feel unloved. All those times I was second best. All those times he 'couldn't want me'.

For those moments, I will laugh twice as hard and feel loved twice as much. And I will be 'number one'. I will want and be wanted again.

I'm keeping my eye on the prize. Almost there.

Focus.

Hell hath no fury.

Forget Victoria's Secret. Here's a billboard that'll catch my attention anytime.

Funny story of the day

Went to Turtle Island with a colleague. We have similar backpacks and upon checking in, she mistakenly picks up my bag and walks away with it. "Wei, that's my bag la!" i holler to her. She looks confused for a minute, looks at the backpack and laughs. We exchange bags.

Me: That was bound to happen...
Her: We probably should do something to differentiate them.
Me: What do you propose?
Her: I think I'll put a nametag.

Best part: Her name is Melissa too.

Tuesday's child.

So it's Tuesday. I have a headache. And writer's block. It's four p.m and although I can't wait to leave, I don't want to go home. I don't want to write about traditional gongs and sea turtles anymore. I'm tempted to crawl into bed, have a good cry, think about him and go shopping. Weird combination, I know.

We chatted today. And it made me so happy. He's homesick. And I miss his funny faces.

To Sandakan we shall go...

I'm off to Sandakan to see this:
and this:

Fortunately, there won't be these :


See ya when I get back. Have a great weekend.

hilang glamour.

It's 3pm. I'm sitting behind my desk. I have lots of energy. In my state of hyperness, I let out a hoot (yes, hoot). Actually I let out three hoots. Pretty loud hoots too.

And then a cute guy walks in looking for my boss.

*mortified*

Too bad I can't take back my 'hoots'. I'm gonna look for a hole to crawl into now.

Monster in law.

There are few things I hate more than dentists and cockroaches. Linda Blair in The Exorcist ranks high as well but coming in closely in second place would definitely be meeting my boyfriend’s parents.

Guys think they have it hard when it comes to meeting their girlfriends’ parents, especially when daddy owns an impressive collection of firearms. But have you ever thought how difficult it is for us girls? We have to impress your MOTHER. The woman who spent 18 hours in labour to bring you into this world and changed your sheets discreetly when you had your first wet dream. I don’t care how nice your mother is because behind her smile when she greets me at the door is the thought that, “She is not good enough for my son.” Ok maybe I generalize. But why is it that I’ve never had the most pleasant of experiences when it comes to boyfriends and their mothers?

Alex (SO obviously not his real name…as it will be with the others to follow)
Alex was my first boyfriend when I was 17. Yes, I was a late bloomer but that’s another blog altogether. To put it in a nutshell, it was short-lived romance and therefore I never got to meet his mother. Blessing in disguise perhaps.

Jacob
Jacob and I had a rather intense albeit confusing relationship. A neither here nor there thing but we always knew we were ‘together’. I never met his mother neither but unlike Alex who hardly spoke of his parents, Jacob was fond of his mum. He would tell me what his mother liked, what she did during her free time and what kind of gifts his dad bought for her. Again, I never had the chance of meeting her. I always wondered if she would have liked me. I asked Jacob this once and diplomatically he answered, “She just wants me happy.” Okaaay. And then he mentioned how it was vital that his mother had a daughter-in-law who could bake.

I’ll let you guess where that relationship went.

Chris
We went out for five years. We got along great and everything was peachy keen.Minor glitch: Mummy dearest. I had snagged the dream loyal and steadfast boyfriend who made me laugh but, unfortunately, was still dangling from some annoying apron strings. When I first met his mum, I was still his ‘friend from college’ and mum was more than welcoming. A group of us would stay over his house for the weekend (his hometown was a couple of hours away from college so it was a nice getaway now and then) and his parents always played the gracious hosts. His dad was exceptionally nice and I always enjoyed having a chat with him. Everything was fine. Until we started officially dating. That’s when the ‘glaring’ started. I kid you not, the moment the mother started to suspect I was dating her darling boy, she started giving me the eye every time we met. I would be watching TV and I could feel her eyes burning a hole in my head. I wasn’t imagining this because his cousins told me that this was typical behaviour of their aunt. “Chris is her precious baby, you should realize that by now. No one will be good enough for him…You’ve got quite a task before you,” his cousin Lisa confided. No kidding, I thought silently. There was one time when his mum picked us up from the train station and as we were driving back to his home, his mum started stroking his head and said, “Study hard in college, ok son? Girlfriends can wait. Studies first.” And there I was in the backseat trying not to gag. I get the freakin’ point, lady. Things just got more irritating by the day. If we were studying in my apartment, he’d lie to her on the phone and say he was with some other ‘friends’. He would never say he was having lunch/dinner with me. And it took the longest time for him to tell his mum I was his girlfriend. We hardly argued but when we did, it was usually because of his mum. Things didn’t work out in the end but we’re still good friends. I loved him but probably not enough to spend the rest of my life feeling like I was never good enough for his mother.

Elmer
Ok so his name wasn’t really Elmer but that’s not the point. I had it really bad for Elmer. I had boyfriends before but this time, I had fallen hard and fast. In the first year, we had the best time and my family loved him. The only thing missing from the equation was that I had yet to meet his family. It bothered me a little that he kept me a secret from his family. Was I so deformed that he couldn’t bring me to meet his parents? He finally did. His dad- as most dads are- was amiable and made me feel at ease. The real hurdle was his mother. I knew if I could score here, everything would be okay. Turned out his mother was nothing like Chris’ but that’s not to say she was a walk in the park. She was a nice enough lady but I also knew she was a very private person. A smile here, a friendly word there and she would be on her way. I was never sure what she thought about me. She never went out of her way to be nice to me but she was never unfriendly either. In some ways, this was a species of mother I had never encountered before and posed quite a challenge. All seemed ok until Elmer shed some light on her thoughts. During one of their conversations, she mentioned that I was a ‘nice girl’ (yeah like nice socks, nice plant…) but he should be careful seeing that I was Kadazan, which meant I would have the tendency to pressure a man into marrying me as quickly as possible.

Not only was this the most racist bullshit I’ve heard but I nearly burst out laughing at her cockiness of me wanting to corner her darling son into marriage! I was only 24 at that time and no where near ready for marriage.

I became wary from that point on and kept my guard up. I was insulted. Long story short, Elmer and I had a painful break-up (well it was for me anyway) three years later. It got me wondering: What is it about me and boyfriends’ mothers? I’m a decent girl, with perfectly good hygiene and no criminal record. I say please and thank you, and although I can’t bake, I’ve got a great sense of humour. My parents ensured I grew up well-educated and I’m financially independent. Why am I made to feel like a burden or a liability by my boyfriends’ mothers? Perhaps they’ve forgotten that some time ago, they weren’t good enough for someone’s son as well.

"I can't make you love me, if you don't.
You can't make your heart feel something it won't."
-I Can't Make You Love Me. I can't recall who sang this though.