30 In 30 Days

A post some time ago on my tumblr. Happy reading!

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In exactly 30 days, I’ll be 30 years old. That’s three solid decades. [Cue to hyperventilate]

At 30, my mum had a 6 year old imp of a daughter i.e. me.

At 30, my dad (finally) got his scholarship to pursue his degree in RIT, NY and lugged my mum and I along.

On their 30th birthday; Ross bought a vintage so-called shiny MGB only to have it boxed in between 2 stationary cars. Chandler (chickenless and duckless) received crappy birthday gifts from his friends and a hug from Joey. Joey made a deal with God to let his other friends grow old, instead of him. Phoebe bounced one mile on a hippity-hop then later discovered she was actually 31, and not 30. Monica being highly hammered, wobbled home to a surprise birthday party, confessed about the box of Ding-Dongs hidden in her underwear drawer, then passed out after her drunken speech… and Rachel who didn’t take Chandler’s ‘Happy Birthday Grandma!’ card that well, drafted out her plan to have a kid by the age of 35, which then resulted in her breaking up with the oh-so-cute 25-year-old toyboy Tag (who bought her a scooter for her thirtieth, by the way).

It is the chapter of my life in which I shall mourn the death of my zestful twenties. The phase in which I frantically try to list down all of my accomplishments in my life, for I have none that I am truly proud of.

I’ve so many things on my to-do-before-I-kick-the-bucket-list that I’ve yet crossed out (in no particular order):

1) Bungee jumping

2) Skydiving

3) Get my diving license and go diving at some island with crystal clear water - but before that I need to…

4) learn how to freakin’ swim (I know how to float backwards, so that’s a start)

5) Ride on a hot air balloon

6) Get my passport stamped in Italy, Greece, Hawaii, LA, Miami, NYC (again), Paris, London, Scotland, Mauritius, Australia, New Zealand, those Scandinavian clusters (Helga would be so proud of me), and Maldives, just before the Indian Ocean swallows it up.

7) Become a feature writer for a glossy magazine

8) Make my first RM 1 million

9) Buy my own house or apartment

10) Get back ‘X amount’ from my douchebag-ex-boyfriend - just for the heck of it, not so much of needing the moolah. I should impose a serious percentage of compound interest on him.

11) Visit Disneyland and snap many cheesy pictures with Mickey, Minnie, Donald, Daisy, Goofy and Pluto (and the must-buy ridiculous big Mickey ears).

12) Have a nice close-knit white beach wedding - of which I won’t be able to do until I…

13) find ‘The One’.

Although I am insignificantly perturbed by this imminent transition, I actually shouldn’t have the need to feel this way, because it is nothing in comparison to the transformation that has occurred in my life over the past years. There are moments when I wish I had a time machine, so that I could go back and amend all the bad links. But things always happen for a reason, and as they all say, God has better plans for each and every one of us.

So, I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t want to change anything in my past. I’ve loved, and I’ve lost. I’ve been through too many heartaches and heartbreaks. Love interests make sweet promises, only to break them. They made me high on endorphins, only to make me crave for more. They knavishly put themselves on that special pedestal, only to butcher the trust I had in them. They’ve torn me apart, but I muster up some courage to pick up the remaining pieces and move on.

Flaky friends come and leave, but the strong ones stay with me through crummy times and helped me craft the better person I am today. The occasional episodes of wrangling, which led to near-neck-wringing experiences, always drew us closer as friends. The lessons learned from these relationships I have with this cluster of people are beyond the worth of a king’s ransom. Having said all that, I am thankful to be gifted with this handful of souls who have championed my life.

My Kurshiah College girls will always have a soft spot in my heart. The eccentric ones, the mean ones, the cool ones, the queer ones, the fluffy ones - we’re so good at picking-up where we left off, and I love that about us. Nobody understands us shrieking, over-the-top drama queens more than Kurshians ourselves. You either love us or envy us to the core. [Flip-hair moment]

My primary school bestie - you know who you are. I hate you, but I love you more.

My housemates and former housemates. You make the home we stay in, smell nice (with softener).

My LP117 buddy. She kicks-ass, mine especially. There’s no accident I ended up with her, despite the early resistance. Behind the hijab/head-scarf is a rock chick who can’t get enough of Jon Bon Jovi. She swears a serious amount of times too.

My colleagues and former colleagues (and bosses). There are countless of times in which I had the urge to bury my head deep in the sand because of you. But it was all good. It is (and was) such a privilege to be able to work with a bunch of talented, not to mention nutty people.

My Batt-Kong troops. (I know, the name is slightly obnoxious. Long story). They are a duplication of the TV series ‘Friends’ and ‘How-I-Met-Your-Mother’ both mashed-up together. They are the people who you go to, to have a big hearty laugh with. They are the victims of your whinings and rantings. They are the people who you run to when your better half drives you up the wall. They are your shoulder to cry on. They are a huge pain in the arse at times, but you just can’t help but love them. They are family.

I guess turning 30 isn’t much of a nightmare anymore, huh? I still hate the idea of the big three-O though, but I ain’t stinking-up the celebration!

If Only...

If only you knew, you would change your mind and head straight for the door. 

If only you knew.

But sadly, you don't.

If only you knew how much of a train wreck I am, you wouldn't be doing what you're doing right now.

If only you knew.

But clearly, you don't.

Who Are You To Tell Me I Can't?

"We are what we repeatedly do. 

Excellence then, is not an act, but a habit."

- The Great Aristotle -

There will always be people tainting negativity in your head.
There will always be people telling you that you are not cut out for something, or probably just anything.
...and the people who are most likely to run you over with that bitter-bus are sometimes the people who are closest to you; who think they know you in and out, who think they've got you figured out.

When your PASSION is larger than your fear, when your DETERMINATION trumps their doubts, you will have a taste of that bittersweet victory.

Don't let weakness reside in your heart.
Don't let others tear you apart.
No one shall tell you what you cannot be.
Because when you believe, trust me, YOU CAN make history.

Sawan Mic

I can't remember when this addiction / infection started. Like cancer, I'm probably currently at stage 3 going on 4. When friends start warning other people, "Kalau karaoke ajak Maylin, kena ambik bilik asing!" or "Sembunyi remote from Maylin!", then you know you have a major addiction problem.

If they had 'Karaokeholic Anonymous', my friends would sign me up without even asking for my consent.

In case you're wondering - No, I can't sing to save my life, just like how I can't cross the damn street and swim, but that's a different story. Just so you know, I'm not the only karaoke junkie who's confessing to this addiction. There are many more out there among us. Keep your radar on.

Like coffee, ice-cream, and the notorious alcohol, karaoke takes the sting out of a troubled soul. Well, in my case it does. And if you karaoke like there's no tomorrow with the right company, all hell breaks loose - in an 'ecstasizing' manner.

You don't need to be the next Malaysian Idol to be able to karaoke. All you need is a drop of confidence to belt out that favorite song of yours in a poorly lit room. Your friends really won't give a rat's ass if you can't reach that note, because they equally suck too.

But I will not deny the fact that some of the people you go karaokeing with really can sing or rap. They are the legen-*wait-for-it*-dary mic hoggers. But in my vast experience of karaokeing, you will also encounter that annoying and somewhat delusional human who can barely sing, but thinks he/she can, and still have the nerve to hog the mic, and at other times the remote control.

Here's a tip: Don't. Mess. With. Them.

Dos and Don'ts:

1) Don't sing along unless you are asked to do so.
2) Avoid accidently clicking the Cancel/Stop/Next button when he/she is performing. (Click at your own risk.)
3) If you are unsure if the song that just appeared on screen is yours, do not by any chance assume it is. Always, ask first.
4) If your ears are on the verge of torrential bleeding due to their distasteful singing, I recommend you visit the buffet spread and spend 5 minutes there.

I've been on a strict karaoke diet. It's been a month now, and I'm itching to sing my heart out! Any takers?


xoxo;
The Sawan Mic Hogger / Remote Control Witch




p/s: Enjoy the video! :)

Beans

It's about 11.00am and I'm in the office, minding my own business at my semi-cluttered desk. My phone started to vibrate continuously. It had to be the Batt-Kongers*. True enough it was. 

Both Yohann and Joe were on the hunt for bean bags. An excerpt of the conversation below:

Yohann: What beans do they use normally? (for bean bags)
Joe: Definitely not baked beans.
Yohann: Thanks Joe...

I swear to God that 'Battlefield 3' PS3 game is starting to feed on Joe's brain. He's demented.

*Batt-Kong: The name of a chat group on WhatsApp, which stands for 'Battery Kong'. Go figure.

I'm Back. Again.

*grin*

Oh, before that...

*whoooooooohhh...*

Out you go cobwebs! :)

I know, it's been awhile. I've been busy, pretending to be busy, trying to keep myself busy, and play the role of a busybody. Life is pretty much the same. OK. Not really. Do you really want to hear my rantings? I really don't care anyway.

See you at the next post.

I’m Coming Home…

Well, not literally coming home. I’m just back here blogging! I didn’t know how much I missed it until I revisited my blog last night. My last post was on 29^th April 2010. *cringe* That was the one AND only post for 2010! I was either lazy, or immensely caught up with my then romantic relationship which along the way turned sour in September 2010.

I don’t know where I should start picking up the clutter! There’s so much to tell! And I’m itching to dish out the dirt. Muahahahahahahahaaa! *evil Count Dracula laugh*

So, stay glued to the screen, I’ll be back.