RIP, Aunty May.

She and my mother were as close as can be and we spent much of our time with her, growing up alongside her kids and their neighbours. Sern was Sam's age and their neighbour Jeffrey was mine so the four of us got along very well, sleeping over each other's houses occasionally and having good-natured arguments about everything. Jeen and Kelly had only a year between them and Emily (Jeffrey's sister) was conveniently in their age group. We made a pretty nifty group, of which I was the tallest, therefore the boss.

Aunty May, Aunty Janice and my mother used to spend their time laughing over meals while us kids spent our time playing pranks on everyone around us (once, we went for a Richard Clayderman concert and we were seated right behind the VIPs. There was an older girl seated in front of Sam who kept glancing disdainfully at us children and Sern, who never could stand condescension, pulled out a bottle of fart spray and proceeded to surreptitiously spray in behind her every few minutes).

Two years ago, everything went pear-shaped and we stopped spending as much time together. My mother started shuttling back and forth between KL and the Philippines and somehow, Aunty May discovered that she had cancer. My mother couldn't find it in herself to face the fact that her best friend might pass on anytime. Aunty May, always a robust woman with a cheery smile, lost more and more weight until she became painfully thin. The warm smile remained.

On Monday, I received a call from Jeen. "Her response is very low, she could go soon." My mother cried as she drove us to Gleneagles. We stood there for hours at her bedside next to Jeen and Sern and the rest of their extended family. Uncle Yap made the decision to move her back to their home and she passed away there peacefully, just a few minutes before my mother and I arrived with my sisters.

Since Monday, Jeffrey's family and mine have spent most of our time at Aunty May's home, keeping Sern and Jeen company. Unsurprisingly, this sad occasion has brought all of us even closer together. Sern, Jeffrey, Sam and I were always close buddies. We used to spend many hours whiling away our time in Sern's room, making music or reading or talking or shouting... Nothing's changed. Now at the ages of 17 - 19, we still all lie on Sern's bed. Sern would be using his laptop, Jeffrey would be playing the drums or saying random things, Sam would be singing and waving her arms around while I would be reading out interesting and gross facts from books whereupon everyone will stop whatever they were doing to make the appropriate responses. (Apparently Kelly, Jeen and Emily spend their time doing girly things- none of the four of us ever bothered to find out what)

I will always remember Aunty May as the sweetest woman I had ever known. We grew up calling her "Mother Number 2" and she always listened to us without patronising us the way most adults did to kids. She scolded all of us the way she did her kids and she looked after us the same way too. Mum did the same for her kids by cooking for them and taking us all out together for movies and stuff.

I have no idea to continue. All I know is that the world has lost a rare and gentle person, someone seldom seen in a population with a dog-eat-dog mentality. She never gossiped or said a hurtful thing against anyone. I had never seen her annoyed or irritated in the ten years that I was privileged to be with her. My entire family feels her loss deeply and we all know that nobody could ever replace her and the beauty she had brought us this past decade.

Ahh. No pictures with Jeffrey because he took these.

MTV Worldstage 2011

I never really spoke about one of the most important and emotional moments of my life here. It involves two packs of cigarettes (one Marlboro, the other Dunhill), the Echelon (obviously!), a big banner on which I wrote my first marriage proposal, spontaneous friendships, shoulders and an overcrowded 7-Eleven. In that order.

I drove to Shah Alam early enough that day, on the heels of my arrival back to Kuala Lumpur from Penang. I had a bunch of friends with me and we lined up hours before the gate even opened for us. Fortunately, I had a bigger group of friends there to keep us company and we had a pretty good time sitting there, making our banners.

I need not  discuss the other bands performing as I specifically went for 30 Seconds To Mars, an all time favourite. I honestly still can't believe that I saw them live. Eep.

We managed to make our way up to the front of the crowd by opening up Kyren's pack of cigarettes and passing around free cigarettes to the Malay rempits around us. They took one look at the cigarettes and ushered us to the front. Honestly, the Malay rempits there were really fun guys. :D When Beast came on, all of us were jumping around and headbanging, acting like Beast was some metal band until we realized that one of the Malay dudes actually knew all of the lyrics and was singing along. In Korean. Stunned, we stood there until Beast left and the guy subsided.

Kelly looking like a derp, Natalie wondering what the heck is going on,
Kyren and I looking identical.

Most of the guys also noticed the huge board I was carrying and asked to read it. It said, HUG ME, JARED LETO on one side and on the other, JARED, MARRY ME.

Rempit: Takpe ah, I percaya he akan kahwin you.

Me: Betul? In that case, bila I kahwin I jemput you datang.

My sisters and I have attended almost twenty concerts from KL to Singapore and the Philippines, so we had plenty of experience moving between people and surreptitiously forcing our way to the front. We had lots of fun talking to the people around us and just enjoying the music and atmosphere. And then 30 Seconds To Mars came onstage.

As a huge fan of theirs, I was singing along from beginning to end. It was amazing! Everyone knew all of the words and I was surrounded by other 30STM fans so it felt completely electrifying. My guy friends took turns to carry me on their shoulders so that I could get an amazing view and I feel deeply indebted to them.

However, one person who deserves a special mention here is my fabulous sister, Sam. She was the one who got my Worldstage tickets and who wheedled my dad into allowing us to drive back early from Penang (where we had our annual family reunion) so that we could attend this. She wouldn't have minded missing it except that she knew how much it would mean to me to be able to catch 30 Seconds To Mars live. While we were watching them perform and my guy friends were too tired to carry me up (we were in line for more than six hours AND the concert had gone on for another six) so she insisted that I allow her to carry me.

Mind you, the girl may be taller than me, but she's a lot lighter and skinnier. Obviously, I'm not going to allow her to carry me. So I ignored her and continued singing along to 'The Kill'. All of a sudden, I felt myself go up in the air. I looked down to see her grinning at me. "I don't care how I'm doing it, but you're gonna watch Jared Leto live if it kills me or not!" she told me fiercely. "Besides, I can see Shannon Leto from here and you're too short to see shit." I blinked back tears.

I can't really go into detail about the 30STM performance. It was absolutely brilliant. All of us were standing there, hands in the air, fingers forming the Triad, the lyrics flowing from our open mouths. I don't think I'll ever forget this.

Later, Aaron and I made our way to the nearest 7-Eleven, which was so full as to be overflowing with people. It took us almost half an hour to get to the counter. While in the line, I had to deal with a creepy dude staring at my tattoo and talking about the time he got drunk and had a Playboy tattoo done on his forearm. Aaron and I started mouthing at each other to hurry up. The guy in front of us took pity on the two of us and loudly started a conversation with us, drowning out the creepy dude's voice.

And all of this is why I attend concerts whenever I can.

Happy Birthday, Cyril Ivor Francis Morden!

I remember toddling towards a dark, smiling face. My arms were outstretched as another pair of tanned arms caught me by the waist. A low, deep laugh sounded above me and I felt the sound echo in my heart.

My grandfather will always be the most amazing man to me. No other man will take the place he has in my heart. He is everything I think a man should be: gentle, generous, cheerful and considerate. I miss him everyday that I live and I wish I could live up to his dreams for me (or maybe not, because he did want me to be a nun).

Whatever it is, Grandpa, I love you and I wish you were here.

Little Miss Sociable

I shall be attending the BRATs workshop which will be held in Malacca from the 1st to the 4th of September. Four days of blissful freedom away from squabbling sisters and nagging parents. I will be driving down to Malacca alone and I'll be making my way back once I'm done.

Since I'll be driving, Father has given me The Talk: do not drink and drive. He said that he recognizes that I'm an adult (oh yeahhhh!) and that since I'm above the legal age for booze, it's perfectly alright for me to get a coupla drinks. Just, you know, refrain from operating machinery.

My eye twitched a little.

My father has given me permission to drink.

To drink.

Excuse me, I need to vomit rainbows.

When someone tells you they think you're too wild for them to handle...

... you say, "Thank you".

One day, not too long ago, I had a certain conversation with someone. You may deduce the topic of said conversation from the title.

Wild? Me?

Okay. I concede that I do things that would have rendered me unmarriageable if I lived in the Regency period (heck, I'm rather unmarriageable now just for not wanting to get married) but seriously, in case anyone's ever noticed, we're sort of in the 21st century? You know, the greatest period of technological advancement and the most civilised time period so far (disregarding war, disease, homophobia, child abuse, principles of racial and cultural segregation, religious persecution... etc.) and I'm still considered wild.

200 years ago, I am what they'd call either a 'blasted bluestocking' or a 'hoyden'. Yeah, I'm that bad. I'm both all for education of women and I believe that a woman should be able to make her way through the world without a man to help her.

What is it with men and their silly prejudiced views? Except for the one on female driving, I think that could be true (but I've seen my fair share of horrible male drivers *shudder*).

Maybe it's because I just don't believe in romantic love. I do believe in its existence, but I don't believe in it getting the human race anywhere. Love is the product of several chemical reactions that occur in the brain. It occurs in the part of the brain which causes obsessive compulsive disorder. Coincidence? No. We've even managed to pinpoint the hormone that causes all of that romantic behaviour so repugnant to others: oxytocin.

Frankly, I can't see myself mooning over some boy or girl. I can't see myself giving up so much just for one person. Maybe it's not a matter of can't but more of a matter of won't. I refuse to allow one person to define my life. Not many people of both sexes can accept that. Guys are too egotistic to believe that girls can live without them and girls are too emotional to allow distance. What is the use?

That's why I date vodka. Reliable and lovable.

4 June 2013- Note: I am currently straightedge as of February this year. And I've done a complete turnaround when it comes to love. Funny what two years can do to you.