online banking.
I don’t like taking an anonymous number and waiting in line for my turn to be served. I absolutely hate the hassle of driving out, finding a parking space and dealing with counter staff. My one year in Glasgow taught me the joys of online banking and never having to deal with infuriating counter staff at banks. The main reason why online banking hasn’t really caught on in Malaysia is because many people feel insecure carrying out sensitive transactions through the internet. My parents and sisters for one, refuse all attempts to convince them to carry out their banking online. Despite this, when I came back, I decided to shift all my banking matters and sundry administrative matters online since I anticipate that once I start working, I will have precious little free time none of which I wish to spend waiting in line. I believe that the online banking system is secure enough as long as simple security measures are taken such as always logging out from your account, never clicking on email links etc etc.
Apart from my bank accounts, my Public Mutual accounts and EPF accounts are now online. The procedure for application of an online account are similar for all of the above. First, go to the counter/ATM machine to get an activation code after which you can register online at the respective websites for the online account.
At present, all my affairs are in order. Yet another phone call to Encik Osman this morning produced no news about my posting status. I expect it will be out next week. So I wait.
clipped wings.
There is no purpose whatsoever to this post except that it’s 1.30am and I can’t sleep so pardon me while I ramble on.
Earlier on I was sorting out photos to be developed. I’ve been back for more than 2 months but it’s something I keep procrastinating on doing. I look through a few photos, I stop, and I never get back to it. To psychoanalyze things a bit further, I’m avoiding evoking memories of a life that no longer exists. Glasgow seems such a distant memory now, I don’t want to become one of those sad people who keep talking about how good the past was. It seemed the most logical thing to do to make a clean cut of things. To put these memories away f0rever and avoid remembering a life that truly can no longer exist.
I miss having my life to call my own. I miss being the master of my own time. I miss my room in JBC, all the little things I had to make it home. I miss the detachment that comes with distance, the selfish avoidance of burdens that shouldn’t be mine to bear. I miss so many things my heart aches to remember them now.
After a long and frustrating application process, I am likely to start work in October. Until then, I am stuck in a strange and uncomfortable place known as limbo. I am wary of putting down too many roots in Kuching because these roots, shallow though they may be, will be wasted effort if I am posted elsewhere. Even now, at this late stage, I am not the master of my own fate. I am still a puppet, waiting for the story to unfold as my masters see fit. In the event that I do get Kuching, stress of a different sort will ensue. Lips that cannot say no to any request, eyes that cannot refuse to see, ears that cannot refuse to hear. An uphill battle it will be to retain whatever shreds of autonomy that still remains in my hands, to keep my mind intact when opposing forces are tearing me apart.
Forgive me, I’m rambling. The hour is late, and I am tired. Mentally. And emotionally drained.
In 10-15 years time, I aim to become financially independent. To answer to no one but myself. I owe it to myself at least that the rest of my life will not be led with regret and with bitterness at what could have been. Emotional independence too is what I aim for. No more emotional blackmail, no more misplaced Asian guilt, no more subjecting myself to the whims and insecurities of other people. I want a nice home, nice things, and the financial ability to buy these things for myself. I want to travel. I want to be in a position to help other people. I want a good life. I want to be free.
security blanket.
Lately, I have had to make do with my medium-sized/small handbags because all my larger ones are no longer usable. Plus I am on a self-enforced bag-shopping ban until Charles and Keith goes on sale again. I feel insecure without a bag large enough to stash ALL the stuff I haul around with me, all useful stuff I must add. Think of it as my version of Linus’s blanky. (Peanuts)
The above is a really blur photo of what I carry (and would carry) in my bag. Here goes, in no particular order.
1. Purse (of course). I love my current one, it’s red!! A tad troublesome to carry around since it’s so big but I like it.
2. Handphone. (not in picture) But it normally goes in that little purple pouch I bought from the Sri Petaling pasar malam in Year 1(IMU).
3. Hand sanitiser. I’ve started carrying this around because I’ve become a tad paranoid about hygiene lately. ESPECIALLY after the incident at KKJM (disgusting toilet without soap)
4. Tissues. But of course. Guys never carry tissue, I suppose their excuse is that invariably a girl they’re out with will always have a pack on hand.
5. Wet wipes. I found this immensely useful when I was traveling for a quick wipe-down when water was scarce. Normally I won’t bring them though.
6. Notebook and pen. At the moment, it’s a very thin exercise book but normally it would be one of those teeny ones. You never know when you’ll need to jot something down.
7. Reusable bag. I’m trying to cut down my use of plastic bags and this cute bag I got from a boutique is small enough to carry around.
8. Small red pouch which would normally contain: compact powder, compact mirror, lip gloss, blusher, Elizabeth Arden Green Tea Spray(optional), small tub of hand cream, extra bobby pins.
9. Bottle of water (not in picture). Wateeerrrrrr! It’s important to always keep hydrated.
10. Others: Cardigan/wrap, umbrella. When the occasion calls for it.
What’s your security blanket?
Bodoh. dan Merbahaya.
Stupid people are dangerous. Stupid people who don’t realise they are stupid are even more so.
For some background on this incident, please refer here. The video of the incident can be found on YouTube, let’s just say there’s NO EXCUSE for the behaviour of these uncivilized lowlifes. I am sick and appalled and ashamed that such an atrocity happened in my beloved country. I appeal to all Malaysians to NOT let this matter just fade away.
*Note: I watched the video. When asked what the cow-head symbolized and why they brought it along, the Action Committee Chair Muhyiddin Manaf averted the question by spouting some gibberish about it being the contribution of certain individuals who were angry with Khalid Ibrahim. He said “ini merupakan…. individu-individu…. yang merosakkan bangsa kita”.. it was unclear whether he meant the individuals who brought the cow head, or the state government. He also asserted that it was the state government “yang mengajar mereka biadap” and forced their hand.
Good grief, with brains like that, one wonders how this man rose to such a powerful position in our government. Oh yeah, he leads the keris-waving battle cry for Ketuanan Melayu. That’s why. Bodoh-nye orang ini.
Some choice excerpts from the press statement:
“……They are not getting off scot-free. They felt victimised……”
“……There was no intention on their part to cause racial divide. They, the organisers, who are sitting left and right of me, didn’t even know that somebody was going to bring the head of the cow during that demonstration …..”
Well, even if you “didn’t know” someone was going to bring the head of a cow, why didn’t you stop them from parading it around? As the organisers and the persons responsible for the protest, they SHOULD BE held accountable.
“…..the residents only wanted their voices to be heard but it was unfortunate that “the publicity they received was negative because it was linked with racial and religious sentiments.”…….”
In that case, every time I feel victimised or want my voice to be heard I should parade animal parts around the state government assembly? Or around the hospital where I will eventually work?
“…He tried to play down the cow-head incident by pointing out that there were previous incidents where a pig-head was used……”
I fail to see the relevance of this statement. “An eye for an eye” is it? No respectable Malaysian would condone such disgraceful acts of hooliganism, no matter what race of Malaysian is responsible for it.
“……The Umno vice-president warned irresponsible parties not to provoke racial sentiments because it goes against the concept of 1 Malaysia.…”
Goodbye Mr Home Minister. By bowing down to unreasonable gangsters and hooligans, you have effectively lost the respect and support of the many intelligent and clear-headed Malaysians out there. For goodness sake, grow a spine and take a firm stand Mr Prime Minister, show that the government is serious about punishing acts of hooliganism and doing away with double standards. And while you’re at that, get rid of stupid and spineless people in your cabinet. Show that your beloved 1Malaysia slogan is more than just empty words designed to lure Malaysians into a false sense of security and optimism.
Just this past Merdeka Week, NTV7 (or was it 8TV?) ran a heartwarming feature on a special street in Melaka (Harmony Street, I think) where a Chinese butcher selling pork and a Chinese coffee shop selling all manner of non-halal delicacies coexisted peaceably with a mosque that was situated opposite them. The ulama of the mosque had no quarrel with such non-halal activities taking place outside his mosque because he said that the proprietors and patrons took every care to show respect for the Muslims who congregated to pray there. Similarly, the Chinese proprietors when interviewed said that they were very conscious of Muslim sensitivities towards pork and therefore took every possible measure to ensure that their products did not offend (contaminate?) the Muslims in the area. The feature, meant to exemplify the spirit of “racial harmony” in Malaysia, made me think that perhaps among us ordinary Malaysians, tolerance and peaceful co-existence are not just “feel-good” words tossed about by our beloved government. These people obviously did not need the glammed up branding of 1Malaysia to practise the spirit of racial harmony and religious tolerance. Indeed, I believe most ordinary Malaysians are like that. It is only through the actions of certain factions within our society (eg. the cow-head protestors) who seem determined to maintain the status quo and keep the lines between the races firmly entrenched.
*Updated: The next day, the Home Minister appeared to do a complete about face and ordered the cops to charge those involved in the cow-head protest. Methinks someone should learn to think before they open their mouth, since doing so only further emphasizes their stupidity.
me.
It’s frightening how quickly my moods can switch from high to low. The triggers are almost always the same, a bitter memory, a photo, a thoughtless word, a dark thought …. Having been reminded again and again how my moods swings affect the people around me so badly, I struggle to control myself. But I don’t always succeed. Every time I think I’ve made progress, something strikes me out of nowhere and pushes me back down again. It is at these times that it’s best to leave me alone, to hide, to recuperate, to heal … so that I come out smiling and the person that you know. You don’t want to see the person that you don’t know. You won’t like her very much.
…….
I resolve to make me the center of my life. This isn’t the first time I’ve made this resolution, but I keep forgetting to keep it. No more waiting on the world to live up to its promises.
L’oreal Make-up Remover.
If you’re like me (or most people for that matter), you would normally survey the Web for reviews (price, performance, value for money) of a product before committing to buying it. No less important are reviews of skincare products and make-up. There are so many products out there ranging from common drugstore brands to high-end luxury brands that I always have a really hard time deciding what to buy. I am always grateful for well-written reviews that provide useful information, e.g. suitable for oily/combination skin?cheap drugstore brand produces same results as high-end luxury brand?causes breakouts? etc. Which is why I am going to start sharing some of my experiences with skincare/make-up that I use. (Tess, I can finally start sharing my experiences with some of the products that I use, products which were previously non-existent. =p)
First up, L’oreal Cashmere-Milk Expert Make-up Remover. This product comes in two other variants for very light and light make-up. This particular variant is intended for heavy make-up.I can’t remember the price but I think it retails for around Rm16.
Sadly I bought this purely on impulse when I saw it on sale at Watsons. Sad because I hate it. I’ve never used a cream-based make-up remover before so I thought I would give this a try. The instructions said to “apply a small amount of milk to the face with the fingertips or a cotton pad”. However, I found that quite a large amount was required to remove my eye make-up (mascara, eyeliner), and even then, I couldn’t get everything off in one go. I also immensely dislike the oiliness of the cream which is quite hard to rinse off. I will not be buying this again.
The bad: Oily, not very effective in removing eye make-up, large amount needed.
The good: Can’t think of any.
On another note, can anyone recommend a good make-up remover? For both the face and eyes. And not the Shu Umera cleansing oil please. I have heard rave reviews about that but a cheaper alternative would be much appreciated.
Friday night.
A trio of friends and I have taken to going out on Friday nights to … drink, dream, play tai di … A most unlikely company of people. Each of us seeks escape or at least a distraction from a reality that none of us are prepared to face yet. For that precious few hours, we get to forget our mistakes and unwanted responsibilities, uncertainties are banished and dreams are as wildly improbably as they come. Ambitious we are, but the means are at present lacking. I suspect the routine will continue. At least for as long as we remain in the same place at the same time.
cattle farm.
Being too cheapskate to pay RM50++ for a cursory pre-service medical check-up, I dragged myself out of bed at 6am this morning to go to the KKJM at Jalan Masjid for a free one. Even so, the place was overflowing by the time I got there, filled to the max with sick people of all ages and shapes and various degrees of personal hygiene. The building was obviously too small for the amount of people it contained, ventilation was poor and I would say it was an excellent breeding ground for the spread of airborne diseases. Moreover, as an urine sample was required of me, I was forced to enter the toilet, something which I normally would avoid doing in hospitals and clinics. The toilet was filthy, the floor flooded with water. Alternating between going “yeurck!!!!’” and “*#&%”, I did what I came in to do and left as fast as I could. To top it all off, there was NO SOAP or hand- dryer in the toilet. Come on, this is a blardy community healthcare center catering to hundreds if not thousands of people a day and you can’t even provide these basic necessities? What happened to “frequent hand-washing to prevent spread of disease”, “wash your hands after going to the toilet”, etc etc. ? Wtf seriously. I miss clean dry toilets in Europe. Even if I had to pay the equivalent of a bowl of kolo mee for their use.
Sigh. I will have to brave the masses again in two weeks time. Not looking forward to it but it’s the price to pay for being a cheapskate.
On a partially unrelated note, I am soooo glad that I didn’t give in to my parents’ not-so-subtle hints about becoming a doctor. My spirit would shrivel away and die if I had to work in a place like that for long. Facing hordes of nameless patients who pass through your doors like cattle. I can understand how some doctors can be so short-tempered and brusque when talking to patients, it’s hard to stay caring and idealistic under such working conditions. Even the nurses and clerks working there looked so damn sien, as if they dreaded going into work everyday. I must somehow find it in me to love my job and what I do everyday. I hate hospitals, always have, hate the smell of disease and sickness, pain and suffering. I still have the urge to scrub myself clean and disinfect my clothing every time I come home from the hospital or clinics. But I’ll get used to it. I have to.
the certainity of uncertainity.
Someone once commented that I don’t deal well with uncertainity. My initial reaction was of anger and outrage, but after thinking about it for some time, I was forced to admit that he was right. I don’t deal well with uncertainty. Nor can I deal with losing control. Yet, so few things in life are certain - death, (and in my case), IMU, Glasgow, 6-year government bond.
The hot topic of today on Facebook and MSN was the allocation of placements. Many tears were shed today, I suspect, because many people did not get the hospitals they expected to get. There were some who didn’t even get ANY of their 3 preferences stated on the application form. Not being unpatriotic or anything, but being thrust into a somewhat rural area in Malaysia is a lot scarier than being uprooted and transplanted overseas. The public transport network isn’t as integrated for one thing, as is internet access.The issue of quality of life and how much you can actually learn while working as a pharmacist in a less developed state are also taken into account when we make our preferences known to the MOH. However, none of these seem to matter to our precious government. Moreover, their efficiency is such they expect you to move from one end of the country to the other within one week or less, i.e. very very short notice is given it seems. Their faith in our communications and transport system is such that they can afford to inform you that you are due to start work two days from today, with no regard for the time needed to make arrangements for accomodation and transport.
For the next 6 years, I will be practising as a clinical pharmacist in any government hospital, wherever the government sees fit to place me. I cannot continue feeling so helpless and miserable because of circumstances that are beyond my control. I may not be able to control where I work for the next 6 years, but I can damn well make sure that I use the time to learn as much as I can and to acquire as many useful skills as I can before I make my next career move.
There are still days when I can’t help feeling like a puppet in the hands of my masters. But on other days, I have learnt to let go.
