Strollin' in Oz

Bond Uni. The place which is going to be my home for the next 3 years. It's relatively small for a uni, but I guess it's okay. From my hostel to the Faculty of Law, it takes an average of fifteen minutes for a one-way trip. Ten if I walk fast, with my short legs and all. This picture was taken when I was on my way to hostel. Lots of slopes, and stairs. Gosh, I hate walking on the slopes. With my bag stuffed with books and laptops and notebooks and whatever other junk there is.

Anyway, felt a bit emo today, so I went for a walk near Assembly Drive. Took a small lane I had never explored before, which looked like this. All was silence except for birds squawking and sloshing on water. It felt really peaceful, and I was so much more at ease than I have been for ages.

I walked and walked, until the end, and the path opened up and became less secluded. There was a lake up ahead. I walked faster towards it, curious.

And then a bird suddenly popped up from the bushes. Do you see it? It was around the height of my knee, and stunned me for a while, since I was still not used to large birds. It stared at me for a while and I tried to get a decent picture of it. This one was taken by my phone though, since I had earlier stashed my camera in my backpack.

The bird scurried back into the bushes and I continued forward, until I reached a bridge. Someone was there, feeding the ducks, and a boy was taking video of some seagulls (I think) - possibly for his school project, because he didn't look like he was even 16 years old.

The gulls weren't afraid of us. One flew past me, so near I could just reach out and touch it, but I didn't, because I value my fingers a lot.

The lady was feeding the ducks, throwing them some bread or something. I squatted down beside her and watched the ducks swimming up for food.

I'm a shy bird! Don't take picture of me!

Anyway, this is the side of the lake, with my shadow there, on top of the bridge. It was so clean, cleaner than I have ever seen before.

The biggest duck waddled up to me, looking for food. It waddled away when it realized I didn't have anything to offer it. So sad wei, I had wanted to reach out and touch it.

I sat there for fifteen minutes just staring at them, waddling here and there. I didn't manage to find any ducklings though, which was a pity.

At the centre of the lake, they had this. I don't know the name for it, nor its purpose. But seagulls were just resting on it, minding their own businesses.

The lake - water so blue and clean, not like the Teh-Chi river back in Sibu.

At the side, there were few more ducks just swimming lazily around.

I wanted to get a better view so I climbed down.

Not too far down, of course, just to zoom in on the ducks swimming there. Those were the rocks.

Climbing back up again the hill. There were a couple of children playing behind me and their parents were walking a dog - a spaniel, which made me think of Lady. I missed her so much, since she died when I was in Sunway college. She behaved better than Lucky anyway, who had the tendency to jump on top of me, and goodness he was H-E-A-V-Y, and his claws were sharp and his breath stank. A guy walked past too and he smiled at me, the scottie dog he was walking sniffed around my ankles and wagged his tail. I grinned but did not reach out to touch it. 

Walking back again from the way I came from.

I had almost reached the end. It took just a few more minutes to reach the bus-stop.

Waiting for the bus and just took a random picture of the wall. It was nice and old-fashioned looking, and the scenery seemed good.

Anyway, I'm settling in at Bond now. O-week wasn't that much fun, but I've been keeping silent three-quarters of the time anyway. Prof Leon is nice, and he was fun and enthusiastic. But I have Prof Kay for Australian Legal System, and Prof Leon said she is fierce. I haven't met her yet, but I'm already starting to worry. The books here are expensive too, it's worrying.

I made new friends though. Duong, from Vietnam, Adam from KK, Syafiqah from Kedah, and Louise from Brisbane. Tony is from one part of Australia I have never heard from, he's a detective, by the way. My first sentence to him after he said that was "You're a detective? So creepy wei.", and I am sure he wasn't amused. His answer was kurt and precise: "Studying law to become superintendent". Well. Super speechless and awkward that time. He then laughed because my face became red-hot, then patted me on the shoulder.

I don't understand their accents! When Tony introduced himself to me, it took me a while to get his name.

Me: Hi, I'm Suzanne.

Tony: I'm tiny. (That was what I heard anyway)

Me: You're tiny? (staring at him, because he was big-sized)

Tony: Yea, I'm tiny.

Me: Er, tiny, as in T-I-N-Y small??

Tony: No, no, Tiny. T-I-N-Y. (The way he pronounced his "O", I heard it as "I")

Me: Seriously? (Then I thought about Desmond Tiny in my Darren Shan saga, so I shrugged)

Tony: (impatiently grabbed my notebook and wrote down his name) T-O-N-Y

Me: OH! TONY! Aiya, why you no say so earlier???????

Anyway, something embarrassing happened to me today, but it was funny also. I had gone to the Accommodation Centre to get the proper address for mailing, and here was the conversation:

Me to the officers: Hi, may I know the address to receive mail?

Officers: Hello, honey, how are you?

Me: Fine, thank y - HICCUP!!

Everyone in the office: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

I had laughed too, it was so sudden, that hiccup, and one of the ladies leaned forward and still chortling, asked, "Have you been drinking, dear?"

I couldn't answer because I was still hiccuping there. They laughed for a long time, gave me a piece of small green paper which had the address of the campus on it, and was the size of my palm; and shooed me out. Argh! Talk about social awkwardness.

Theme Song for GE13

One of the best I have heard. Worst listening to. =)

Wounds Heal, Scars Remain

When I was ten, I had more than 60 scars on my right leg alone.

By the time I was sixteen, I had more than a hundred throughout my body - on my knees, my ankles, my elbow, the back of my hand near my thumb, even on my back near the shoulder. One on my thigh where a dog had bitten me on my 8th birthday on church grounds. Guess it was Mr Doggie's way of saying Happy Birthday, Suz. What a nice dog. Three of them, actually.

From sports. Netball, badminton, ballet, basketball, being bitten by dogs, scratched by cats. Some from falling down the stairs, sleep-walking, even. Red Crescent.

I guess I'm just accident-prone.

Now I'm nineteen, coming up to twenty, honestly, I don't know how many physical scars I have. Many have faded over the years, some had disappeared completely. The most painful yet memorable one was from attending the first Red Crescent meeting in 2005, at the crook of my elbow - from running full speed during a game when I was having fever and stomach virus at the same time. It took that more than a month to heal, because infection had set in, and is still here now, with me, until today.

I remember that scar vividly. A few weeks after the little accident my friend and I just completed an inter-school netball. We were wearing our orange shirt, with red skirts. And after the competition mum brought both of us to Parkson to celebrate our win, and only then I realized the right side of my shirt was covered in blood, the wound fresh and red as a rose, weeping. It was only when the blood was pointed out to me I felt the pain, scorching the inside of my elbow. Before then I was so rushed with adrenaline that it barely registered in my mind.

The most recent one was on my right knee - a long gash from climbing rope during a camp my sister was part of the organizing committee. I remember the date: 19th November 2011. At that time there was so much frustration in my heart, that I ignored the sting in my palms of grasping the rough ropes while climbing, wanting to feel more alive, more here, more present, more now. And typical of me, I overestimated my strength, and I lost my grip, and a fresh two-inch wound opened on my knee, burning and biting. I gave up on the ropes, and went to help my other sister at the school drain instead.

Thing is, we always look at scars on the body to find out how much hurt there was. But I gradually come to realize, that marks on the skin do not matter an ounce, but rather the wounds inflicted on the heart, which bares into your soul, plants doubt and harbours self-hatred. Our hearts, which were like precious stones, corroded and shrank and dirtied again and again over time. Grew fungus and mold, became worthless and dull, unwanted, not noticeable.

Sometimes I feel like that.

That maybe I wasn't good enough, or clever or brave or pretty enough to please everyone.

Sometimes.

Worthless.

Feelings which I hid behind a mask which I projected unto everyone, so that my friends won't think that I'm helpless or weak or whatever.

I worry the day that my mask would break to pieces, that all the raw fear and anger and pain and anguish would explode out of me, and I would project them to an unfortunate person. I fear that when it breaks, I would not know the person I actually was.

I read recently that people with Osteogenesis Imperfecta would break their bones so easily - from sneezing or even stepping off a bed, or pressing a car brake too quickly, or even lifting a carton of milk. They break, and need someone to put them together again. Here's the catch. You don't need OI to break. Sometimes people break to pieces without others knowing, and just waiting for the right person to fix them up.

Things break all the time. Day breaks, waves break, voices break. Promises break. Hearts break.

But.

But sometimes I look around, and I think, God, I'm so lucky to be here today. I'm so blessed by You, Lord. For everything worth-while in my life. For my parents, for my siblings, for my close friends, for my abilities to see, hear, walk, run, touch, feel, laugh, and even cry. And that, I am not broken beyond repair yet.

I would remind myself again and again, if Jesus could carry the cross to Golgotha, I could certainly find the strength to carry out my duties in life.

My wounds have healed, but my scars remain, to serve as a reminder - a silent warning that no matter what, life hurts all the time. The next wound could come out of nowhere, as deep and fresh and painful as the last.

But it matters on how you keep your whole self from breaking into a million pieces.

And if you can't hold yourself together, if you're broken - either in spirit, or in mind,

God will always be there to patch you up.

 

Jesus will always be there to comfort.

Remember that.

Irvine's Scary Cake

It was Irvine's birthday yesterday, and we (the office staff - me included) went to Paramount to have buffet dinner. We had free vouchers, generously given by my mum. And I found a really creepy picture of Doraemon in Google, and decided to use it on his cake. Creepy right?

The baker laughed out loud when I gave her the picture to put on the cake. The Captain in Paramount had a shock when she opened the box and Creepy Doraemon glared up at her. Then the waiters and waitresses came over and they all started commenting and giggling over it. I think Irvine got a bit traumatized when we set the cake in front of him - we ruined his favourite childhood cartoon.

More about it next time. Something funny happened also during court session today. But I'm tired, so may only update this coming weekend.

Goodnight!

Hupomeno

Sometimes people look at me, or more specifically at my face, and would exclaim that I look like my dad.

Less than half of them would say I look like my mum.

There were rare times when one or two would point out that I look like my godmother.

Most of them would comment that surely I will grow up to be exactly like my parents - a lawyer, or a politician. Like the old man I met recently when I went to court with my dad, or some clients I bump into in the office.

I have finished my A-levels. Got my results already, which I won't announce here - whether it is good or bad. Gloria in excelsis Deo. At least I can apply to universities which can help me pursue law. I'll be attending Undergraduate Law in Australia this coming May, and I cannot deny that I am rather nervous about it.

People say I am lucky, that I am blessed. I admit that I am. However, there are always haters out there who won't admit to my face that they hate me or whatever for some faults I have. Recently I have received one comment (unpublished) from an anonymous reader for my previous post - Give a little love and it will come back to you: "...People are afraid of the daughter of Yang Berhormat Wong Ho Leng...". There are more, of course, but I won't elaborate here.

It is rather pointless, anyway, to let this bother me. True, those who do not know me say that I have a rather stern face that most are wary of. Most of my friends in college think that I am this quiet person who just kept my head down and studied hard during the first semester - until they got to know me better, that is. My closer friends would interject that I can be funny sometimes if I let my guard down. Little kids I have met over the years in DAP ceramah, or Sunday School, or longhouse visiting, did not run away in fear - they weren't afraid of me. However, my best buddies would "complain" that I am completely and utterly insane. The stuff I did, the risks I took, and the dares I accepted.

My question is: why judge me before you even take the time to know me?

Just to break it down in case you don't understand:

I am a normal girl with normal likes and dislikes. I quarrel with my siblings, get into mischief with them - like messing up the whole kitchen on one my failed attempts to cook. Twice I have practically destroyed laptops. I never got excellent results in school. I like sports, I hate wearing makeup. I like music, sometimes when I feel down I turn the volume up and listen to music at full blasts when no one was around. I get bored sometimes in lessons, when the terms get technical and filled with jargon that take me a few long seconds to get the meaning, like "indemnity, caveat, liquidated, retainer" and many more.

I have toys too. I have a Siberian tiger-cub toy named Zoe, which is my current favourite. I still sleep cuddled with Ubah and Zoe. I love story-books. I have dreams, I still wake up in the middle of the night when I have nightmares. Sometimes when I can't sleep I would go to my dad's study and talk to him for a while, and he would amuse me with his usual "One day, Ubah came to Sarawak and liked it here and decided to stay. The End. Now go to sleep" sentence.

I like comedies. I hate horror. Romance movies bore me. When it comes to Twilight, I am Team Jacob, until now I still laugh at jokes of Edward Cullen sparkling like a pixie. (What vampires sparkle, anyway?) Bella has a poker face in the movies. Taylor Lautner is H-O-T. Justin Bieber and Selena Gomez shouldn't date - no offence to them. Pianoguys are awesome. Nick Vujicic is an inspiration.

I love animals. I have an extreme dislike for insects and reptiles. My current obsession is now a husky. I have a 3-year-old dog named Lucky, a cat which just one day decided to stay at our place. Her name is Comel, and she visits us every day. Just yesterday she gave me a scare when I was sitting on the front porch watching my siblings play by brushing up against my arm.

I have fear of failure, like any other person.

I have my ups and downs days. Sometimes I am rebellious.

So how am I different from other teenagers?

Would you like it if anyone judged your child just because of who you are?

I always have to remind myself that other people definitely got it worse than me. For example, barbaric lies were spread about Sdr Lim Guan Eng's son; or that Sdr Anwar's daughter, Sdri Nurul Izzah had received phone threats.

I am definitely blessed. And I cannot promise that I will turn out to be exactly like my parents. I will try, however, to follow their good traits. Mum is good in management, dad has good leadership skills (even though his skills are more to task-oriented than relationship-oriented). Both of them would always finish what they started. I will definitely try to follow that - sometimes I get lazy though. Typical teenage behaviour. But I'm trying. My bane is short-temper, but I am working on that.

On a brighter note, I have learnt new stuff recently.

The word Hupomeno is the Greek word and means "to persevere". Pistis is "faith". Katameno is "constant residence". Persevere in life, have faith in God, and your church should be your constant residence.

A quote: "When you begin a journey of revenge, start by digging two graves: one for your enemy, one for yourself" - Chinese proverb.

You can't undo something that has happened, and you can't take back a word that has already been said out loud.

Cats' eyes are beautiful. Like glass, or a teardrop.

When you look at a book's page at a certain angle in the sunlight, there are bumps and bruises and ink doted across, it's like life. At first glance, everything is always perfect, but life is just made up of little imperfections at closer look. A successful person does not have a perfect life. A person is only made strong after being battered by mistakes and regrets.

Different shades of life make the painting more beautiful - Mike Dolan.

Laminin is a molecular structure shaped like a cross. Basically we all have the cross within that holds our bodies together. I'm not bluffing, go check it up on Google.

Satan disguises himself as an angel of light.

It is near impossible to rinse your mouth with Listerine for 30 seconds straight. I tried it and ended up laughing and nearly swallowing the rinse.

Wayne Dyer quoted: "Judgements prevent us from seeing the good that lies beyond appearances".

Lawrence G. Lovasik quoted: "It is just as cowardly to judge an absent person as it is wicked to strike a defenseless one. Only the ignorant and narrow-minded gossip, for they speak of persons instead of things".

And Mother Teresa: "If you judge people, you have no time to love them".

Life is how you make it.

 

Give a little Love, and it will come back to You