Saturday, July 11


I wanted to be productive, to write something meaningful, like WTF is up with our education system? You want to teach in English, now you want to revert to Bahasa Melayu (or is it Bahasa Malaysia? Even the name keeps on changing). Definite pros and cons both ways, but lemme do some research before I blabber on about that. Don't want people flaming me for not getting the facts straight. I wanted to write another snippet of Tender Moments that's been bugging my mind. I wanted to get on with life and write another goddamn short story. Instead, I downloaded 17 Again and watched it. Yes, people. I had a Zac Efron overload. Not as satisfying as Hilary Duff or Mandy Moore overload, I must say. Whenever I look at that guy, I keep on thinking High School Musical. Quite OK for a musical, but it's never gonna beat Mamma Mia! And I'm on-call tomorrow, so I can't stay up late to write stuff. You know, stuff. Excuses, excuses. I know. But starting from tomorrow, I will be doing alternate 24-hour-day calls for four times. In a less confusing manner: work from tomorrow till Sunday morning, rest, work on Monday till Tuesday evening, rest. Work on Wednesday till Thursday evening, collapse. Work on Friday till Saturday morning, die. I am so not gonna bitch about work. The environment is condusive and warm. Seriously. Who else gets to say this: "I belted Jason Mraz's 0% Interest while opening up this guy's skull." I know it sounds sexy, in a gory, Vampire Lestat way. Move aside, Edward Cullen and his diamond skin. Anyway, there's internet connection in the doctor's room in OT, but no phone reception. Even with back to back cases, which I hope will not come to pass, I get at least 1/2 hour to 1 1/2 hours between cases. Which means I get to post an entry. If I get around to writing. Speaking of hospitals, Tita and I have something cooking. Well, maybe at the stage of compiling the grocery list, but that's a start. Right? I have a personal deadline. Before end of this year, before the Masters Program interview. A quick shoutout before I go: Eileen C, thank you for dropping by. I'm honored you even considered coming back to read more stories. They're either under Tender Moments, or Short Story. I have more (a compiled collection, actually) but I'm too embarassed to post them here. You know what, English Fiction scene in Malaysia is still young. Methinks more competitions will come up. If your dream is becoming a published writer, never let anyone say otherwise. Read, read, read and write. But get a day job and maintain it. Writing will not pay the bills. Unless, of course, big US or UK publishers buy your book and turn it into a movie. Apparently that's a fluke for writers. If you can only buy two books about writing, buy The Elements of Style by Strunk and White (RM 40.43) for the technical basics of writing, and On Writing by Stephen King (RM 32.11) to get a glimpse of what it really means to be a writer. That book is under Horror section at Kinokuniya, can you believe it? I have other books to recommend, but these two are must-haves. Jannah and Aisyah, thank you for your support. I've been following your blogs (yeah, yeah. I didn't save myself as a follower -- macam cult la pulak -- I memorized the URLs). Life, the entire expanse, the full potential, is ahead of you. Stop caring what other people say, unless they're telling you your fly is down, or there's a dark red patch on your skirt (OK, maybe that's out of line a bit). My whole life, people have been telling me to stop being weird, the oddball, to conform. But since my own mother is OK with who I am, fuck everyone else. Nate, I will write something meaningful and not slathered with jiwangness. Even if it means dipping my foot in political issues (shudder). I hope it won't get to that. And congratulations on becoming a mother, although I think that wish is 2 months plus late in coming? Your son's got a lot of hair, unlike Arwen AHAHAHAHAHA! Dayana and Oops Did I Just Say That (I still can't figure out your name), I will keep on posting snippets of Tender Moments. After all, I can still recycle them in other expanded stories. If only I could sell the pieces to a chick mag. Kasha, you didn't even post a note to encourage me to keep on writing. Bummer :P. Tita, one day we will get paid for writing fiction. And I will make you write that novel of yours. And to other, silent readers (if I have any more), thank you for spending your time reading what I have to say. Come back again, once in a while. Sometimes I have something meaningful to share. Cheers. PS: the shoutout ain't that quick, eh?