End of 2012... Not the World

A friend I quite admire once told me he sits down to write everyday regardless of how bad his writing is. He told me to write at least 200 words each day to keep up my writing habit. Obviously I hadn't. If I had, I would have a lot more blog posts by now.

I can't believe 2012 is coming to an end. Has it been a year already? Sometimes I think that 2012 was forever, then I look back say that time pushes me forward too fast. (And most of the times I wish I could control time like in Final Fantasy.)

It's astonishing how much one can change in a year. If a year ago someone had whispered in my ears all the things I do today I would probably sock that person in the face and call liar. Then again I'm not pretending to say that I didn't want change, that I wasn't looking forward to a breath of fresh air.

Haha, I kid.

I don't know where this post is going. I don't know how I feel. Apprehensive about the new year, maybe. Sad about leaving the old. Promises made and secrets shared, can I keep them for another 365 days? That I may, at the end of 2013, whisper them to myself about the wonderful things of another dreamy year?

I hope so. I dearly hope so.

I don't think I need to list out the changes in 2012... Nor the things I hope to complete in 2013. After all it's not the beginning nor the end that's important, though people naturally focus on it more. It's the journey that counts. It's the adventures you embark on with comrades that make the times forever memorable.

The fireworks are starting. Happy new year, all!

How to Impress People With Your Non-existant Cooking Skills

I've never been any good at cooking. The best I've done is make instant noodles. But for all the other cooking-idiots out there, there are tricks to come up with a ridiculously simple dish that would impress people who previously never thought you knew how to turn on the gas.

Fried rice is the epitome of a ridiculously easy meal. An 8-year-old can fry rice. So can you.

The best thing about fried rice is that there are no fixed recipes for it. You can add anything you like, and excluded anything you don't like. Even to that though, there are some basic things you should have, which I will list.

Things you need to prepare:

• A wok. Or frying pan, but a wok is better. 

See, this is how cooking fried rice feels like.

• Oil. Any sort of oil would work. If you don't have any, butter is a nice substitute. Margarine is not advisable.
• Rice. (Cooked rice, mind you.) You can use left-over rice from the day before, but make sure it has been refrigerated. Leave to room temperature if that's the case.
• Vegetables. Many people are disgusted with vegetables and don't want them anywhere close to their mouths, but vegetables are found in many dishes for the simple reason that they are good. And I mean taste-wise. Vegetables add flavor to the dish, and since fried rice is generally tasteless, you MUST have at least one kind of vegetable to mix. (The more the merrier!) A good base would be cabbage and carrots. I personally like to add tomatoes.
• Eggs. Crack them open and beat them until they have bubbles on the surface. Personally I like to add a small dollop of mayonaise to make the egg fluffier. Beat continuously. Make sure the egg mixture is very light and bubbly!!!

Bubbly egg, like this.

• Meat. (Optional) Take a small piece of meat, boneless. Let it thaw if it's been kept in the fridge and make sure it's soft.
• Seasonings. Here you can go crazy. Get soy sauce, salt, a small amount of ajinomoto if you so feel like, but keep in mind that this will be how your fried rice will taste like. If you feel like sweet fried rice, sure, but a good tip is to NEVER overdose on the salt.

Great, now that you have all these things, it's simple enough after a short grocery trip. Now comes the fun part. You get to play around... WITH A MOTHAFUCKIN' KNIFE.

Cutting shit up, with a chainsaw.

First, you cut shit up.

Get the meat and SLICE, DICE and STAB THE THING until it's dice-sized cubes. If you think you're chef enough, marinate the meat to get some flavor.

Now get the green stuff. Chop the vegetables until they're just shreds of fiber. Don't mash them though. Small pieces will suffice.

After all this, don't forget to clean the blood off your weapon knife and keep it. Set the wok or pan over the stove and let it heat while you take a rest. Here, have a beer for all that hard work. After the wok heats up (you can stick your hand onto it to check its temperature, however insurance does not cover intentional self-burning), add about two spoonfuls of oil. Let the oil heat up.

If you have prepared meat, fry it first. throw them into the wok gently and stir fry. Basically just move the meat around with the spatula so it doesn't stick to the wok. Fry until cooked, then take them out and leave it aside.

Add more oil. Now time to fry those leafy green things! Just stir them around until they look cooked. Make sure they go through immense pain. Take them out.

You can already imagine the screams.

Now we fry the egg!! Add oil again. Pour the egg mixture and let it cook. You don't have to worry about it not being perfect, you're going to mess it all up anyways. Try to let it cook until it's not too liquid, but still soft.

Now after this, throw the rice in. Add whatever seasoning you feel like, and mix the rice thoroughly with the egg. By this point you should lower to a small fire. Mix together the rest of the stuff you've cooked and then make changes to the dish according to taste.

When you deem it edible, spoon it out on a plate and there you have it: Fried rice.

Yeah your shit ain't gonna look as good as this, but just

 be sure you don't put anyone in the hospital.

DEAL WITH IT.GIF

Something about these few days just make me want to repeatedly punch something (rather, more specifically someone), and then the short conversation I had with a certain honored family member just broke what little control I had over my pent-up rage.

What the fuck do you mean the words you said, in that tone, to my face?

My family is not only racist, but biased as well. What they don't know, they reject. I envy those other people in relationships where the two families actually know each other and are at least on cordial terms with each other.

Mom, Dad. YOU'VE NEVER EVEN MET THE GUY ON WHAT GROUNDS ARE YOU TELLING ME YOU KNOW HIM.

It is absolutely infuriating when they make assumptions based on- wait for it- his parents. For god's sake you guys have never even met his parents. The only thing you guys know is their ethnicity, which doesn't at all tell you ANYTHING about their person. It's like saying that you must be a greedy gold digger because you're Chinese. Is that fair? No? Do you care? THEN WHY ARE YOU SAYING THAT. So how on earth can you, from the assumption of his parent's ethnicity, bring that forward to his personality/character/general behavior. Have you even met him. Have you even tried to talk to him with an open mind that is not blocked by whatever bias you have in that empty skull? Is that not the point of the self-fulfilling prophecy, that you are seeing only the worst because you expect the worst.

I'm not stupid. At least I'm not as stupid as either of you when it comes to relationships, and I know for sure that you two are fucked up in the head, messed up in the heart, and completely paranoid. All I want was acceptance. To allow me to make my own damn decisions, to believe that I have made the right decision, to understand that I have thought, long and hard and over a period of three fucking months about everything I could possibly try to weigh the pros and cons of, to please, for the love of Jesus fucking Christ, leave me be to live my life because I am already 18, and I'm not even the ignorant sort of 18, so STOP MAKING MY DECISIONS FOR ME.

I do not appreciate it when you tell me that I shouldn't be hanging out with my friends, or that I should stop joining TAS, that I should probably not be "too attached to anyone", all based on very weak arguments- based on stereotypes and assumptions- and then tacked on with the infuriating, "We're older and more experienced than you, so we know better. Also you should listen to us because we're your parents."

In what world is that proper valid argument.

If there is any problems with what you guys think I'm doing with my life, sure. Come and tell it to me. Maybe we can sit down and talk about it over coffee. Maybe we can have a proper discussion and I can try to make you guys see it from my point of view and I will attempt to understand your fears. But is that ever happening? Do you think it's possible? You guys have lived your whole lives in ignorance about the most important aspects of human interaction. But guess what? I'm living my life, not yours. And my outcome will be nothing like yours.

Morph

I like to think that I am a strong, independent young girl with big dreams, because I've been conditioned to think I am. Maybe sometimes I'm not. Maybe sometimes I don't want to be.

It's quite surprising to everyone else how cynical my outlook on life is. Judging by what they know of me, I'm not surprised that they're surprised. But that's the thing: why let others know? Is it necessary for them to know every opinion? Sometimes people don't want to know, mostly people just don't care. And if they want to know, they ask. Then again usually it's the ones that ask that we can't be truthful to.

All my life I've been told to "be my own person" and "never let anyone tell you who to be". But what the fuck does that mean. What does it mean to someone who isn't sure of who they are- and honestly, how many of us is who we want to be rather than who other people want us to be? If you say you are, how are you so sure it's not society that's making you think you know who you want to be?

How about me?

What if who I want to be is exactly who I am now? That there are no more thoughts of what ifs and why nots.

What if my personality- this me, is really just a shapeless human- and I change for each person? To some I may be a friend to go to for advice, to others I may be the friend to go to for jokes, yet again to some I may be the quiet friend who doesn't say much.

I like being this unfixed person. No one is to say that I should do this or that because on what grounds can they make that judgement? I like that like Morph, I can take on many roles. I like to fill in the holes in people's lives. For many, I am that inconsequential, but fun to have around friend. I suppose I like being that way. Close enough to feel like I can make their lives a little happier, not close enough to care too much.

This is Morph, from Treasure Planet, if you don't know. I chose the saddest-looking picture from Google images because this is how I fucking feel right now.

I don't like it when I get too close to someone. Attachment, to me, is like a drug. And as much as I hate to admit it, when I get attached to someone... I get attached to someone. It's not healthy. It's not nice. I hate myself for it. That's why I sincerely dislike having people in my personal space because sooner or later they will leave and there will be a hole in my bubble which should not be there.

It's at times like these that I wonder what happens after I'm dead. I don't mean to myself- I know what I'll do, I'll just die, simple as that- but to the other people that used to know me. How would they know of my passing? Would they rejoice? Would they be sad? Would they care?

If I died I probably wouldn't care much about myself. Hah. Then again I wouldn't know.

All I want is just validation, I guess. Just something to know that I'm doing things right. Because all I want to do is just make other people satisfied... and to not treat me like a problem. So I'll gladly be what they want me to be, because that's just who I am.

Morph.

When Socially Stressed, Punch Someone In the Face

Alternately, if for some reason you are unable to do so, you can choose to relieve your stress by doing other activities, whether legal or not. (However beware the legal consequences. Then again, knowing YOLO, I doubt legal consequences would be a priority.)

It comes pretty often when I am embarrassed- in fact I embarrass easily, something I inherited from my mother, vain as we are. This time I have proper reason to feel rightfully embarrassed. I don't particularly like being associated with certain people, due to that. Neither do I particularly like being associated with, say, my childhood.

I have done a lot of embarrassing stuff. People who know can wield such information and I will sooner or later bow to their threats. That in itself is embarrassing enough.

However the point is that punching someone in the face is the best remedy to cure your embarrassment. Preferably if said someone is the cause for embarrassment, then it just makes the punch sweeter. But then is it morally right to do that? Punch someone out of embarrassment? Wait, let's not talk moral. I have 99 problems, but moral values ain't one of them! (No, I lie. I don't have 99 problems.)

If punching people is a cause for concern, there is no need to worry. I've punched many people, mostly out of embarrassment, sometimes not. On special occasions I feel that a kick is more deserving.

Sigh. I still have not yet fully recovered from my prolonged state of sleeplessness. This cough is not helping either. Just one more day. Finals on Saturday!! I must get good marks for IPC, otherwise I will surely be chewed out for not studying enough. Apparently being born to 4.0 CGPA parents (LIES. I NEVER KNEW. THEY NEVER SAID.) getting a 2.8 is embarrassing to us all.

Stop being so lazy. has been on my New Year's Resolution List for a good 5 years now. Does it work? Nope. Maybe for the first two weeks of each beginning semester, but no, not really.

At this point I will stop here to slam my head into the wall and watch the blood dry.

The Puddle Phobia

I've gotten a case of the Puddle Phobia, in which I am now deathly afraid to drive past/next to/into a puddle of water at any speed above 20km/h.

Malaysian roads are terrible. Flyovers are not supposed to flood after the RAIN HAS STOPPED. Even so there shouldn't be a puddle HALF A TYRE DEEP. So deep that when you go past it the water actually goes over the roof of the car on the other lane.

In other words, MY CAR.

I literally felt my life flash before my eyes in that instant I got blinded. What the absolute fuck. The water- muddy water, on a damn tar road- covered the whole windscreen, all the way to the driver's side. It basically enveloped my whole car. Mind you, I was on the right lane. On a curved flyover. Which is maybe two stories high. Dear lord I could have died.

I am eternally grateful le petit ami was there to work things out for me- talking to the other party, helping me settle the issue, driving me home... Honestly I think I would be absolutely useless if I had to face it alone so late in the night. (Then again I probably would have sped away...) Thank whatever deity that I have someone who cares so much for me. <3 How many people would actually truly walk through the bad patches with you and be right there, supportive and reliable. (Reliable, what a word to be used!) I am lucky. Considerably so. Today just helped me realize that.

Tired of being such a hazard to other people and myself... What a night. What a day. I can't decide whether it's my fault or whether life just likes to bite me in the rear on days like these.

At least I know I'll never really fall too hard without someone catching me.

Tits, Be Calm

I think I'm getting sick. Mostly because I've been agitated the whole day and secondly because I'm feeling warm all over. Then again that could be because of that smoking hot performance by Leanne just now. WHICH DID NOT, BY THE WAY, TURN ME ON, DADDY! I was just appreciating the performance!

I don't know what I'm feeling now, it's all messed up. All I know is that I'm tired but awake, which, knowing me, is a pretty potent combination.

I want to go to a club somewhere and dance till I drop dead asleep back into my bed.

Didn't talk to Le petit ami for the whole day. I think that's a first since we started. Can't reach the idiot, then again, I didn't try. I don't know what to say anymore.

Accusatory messages are best to never be written, because I 1) accusatory, and 2) see point one.

Other than the usual confused hormonal teenager whines, I received an 8/8 for both my recently submitted ETs, one which Mr Rey said was 'excellent' and another he said 'see me.' Should this be a time to rejoice? Either way I've got two more to write in 24 hours and I'm pretty much screwed, yeah. Well then damn. :\

I'm getting fat- and I'm definitely feeling fat. Good food all around. ;_; HNGHHHH. I'm broke and desperate to be in shape for Comic Fiesta, stop it!!