Icebreak.

It has been two years. I really can’t believe this. I can’t believe how I didn’t manage to write a single post decent enough to be posted in public. It’s not like I’m Rowling or Coelho or my writer ex boyfriend, who actually write substantial stuff but writing to me hold a significance. For example writing means being able to put my squabbling thoughts into strings of constructed sentences. It also means my English is still intact.

Thus to break this stupid ice, I am going to ramble about random things. Maybe updates – about me, about my friends, about my dog, about my non-existent social life, about Grey’s Anatomy. And get this hiatus done. So that I could unfreeze and write more often.

I moved out from my hometown, to a new sub-city. I rented my own place with a jacuzzi, which I personally feel overrated because my 3 year old nephew could count the number of times I was in it. No, scratch that. My nephew is a superhero who could count more than that. I had a king size bed all to myself, an open walk in closet, cooked some meals for myself and perhaps a date, had a privilege card to the bar I frequently visited, had my favorite by the window seat at my favorite coffee shop, regular massage parlor and memorized the stores in two malls before I moved back with my parents. I love Ipoh, it holds a very nostalgic place in my heart. But my liver is quite thanking me now, if you know what I mean.

I walked in and out of a few flings, one terrible relationship with even more horrible breakup. I sailed through some sessions with the shrink, though didn’t manage to finish them because honestly I just wanted the pills, not the talking sessions. I had sleeping disorders, eating disorders, keeping human contact disorders, but I was still kicking ass. Or that’s what I’d like to believe. Yes, I totally do. Self confidence is the key.

I had a fallout, with some people I never thought I would. They were once the most important people in my life. I called them my second family. All of a sudden, I went non-existent to them, and perhaps vice versa. The worst part of such fallout is the pain that creeps on you like a shadow, slowly blending into your daily life until you don’t realize it’s there anymore. The best part is, well – yet to come.

I have two favorite nephews now. One is three and ten months old while the other is a pile of 6 months. It’s incredible how much energy does a three year old toddler stores in his tiny tiny body. And it’s much more incredible how peaceful he looks while in his sleep. He nibbles on my ears at times, bites my cheek at other times and mostly he just screams away my name when I don’t lose to him in a wrestle battle. I didn’t know I love babies until I got these two handfuls and now I’m finding for father to my children rather than a husband. Quarter-life crisis starts exactly like this.

I went through my first year postings, and when this month ends, I’m completing my two years of compulsory service with the Ministry of Health. I’m sinking deeper into root canals and finding my happiness in building back broken cusps. I hear suction sound with each border molding and patients saying they feel much younger with their new set of teeth. I wear wedges to work because that reminds me of my mentor, who is basking her way in Manchester. I think the entire dental world is envious of her now.

My best friend is pregnant, due in January hopefully. Our daily conversations are about her swollen feet and her baby girl kicking ass in the tummy. I also got to know about Northern Lights and it has become my new bucket list now. Of course next to teaching Arshia’s baby some skills she needs in her later life. My another best friend is a masters student now with her first ever job to hold. She looks more gorgeous than ever, all thanks to the Californian sun she’s getting perhaps. All in all, thanks to Internet God, I still have my person(s) with me through thick and thin.

Some things haven’t change. I still wear my scrub pants to sleep, they’re still super comfortable. My dog still pretends to be scared of something we all can’t see just to get to sleep inside the house. Grey’s Anatomy is still an addiction, with or without Derek Shepherd. Oh by the way, I hate not having him around. I fucking hate Shonda for killing EVERY-Fucking-BODY. Later she’s gonna kill Meredith and call it No-Grey’s Anatomy. I’m still obsessed with Instagram and taking selfies, because let’s face it – I look great in my own photos. Or I just know my angles well. Like every other girl in this world.

It’s going to be Monday in an hour and I’m going to bed – because I’m an adult and know my priorities. Trying so hard to repeat that to myself so that I finally grow up before I reach my big thirty.

Goodbye’13; Hello’14.

I’ve been intending to write this last night, while sipping my hot green tea, post Kenny Roger’s dinner with my parents. Which they didn’t really love, because well, they’re Indian inside and out so they prefer KFC instead. So we stepped into 2014 with yours truly sitting in a big baggy tee and my favorite scrub pants. My soul may feel fat, but body is truly comfortable. This is me being all bright and shiny, a leaf I took out of Meredith’s book. 

Do I sound whiny? Because I don’t intend to be. But oh, if you do think I sound whiny, ignore the voice in your head that’s trying to to poison you against me. Just imagine you’re in Malta, facing the Mediterranean sea and your bed is as such that you could see the stars while you fall asleep. Yes, now you’ll be the kind soul who says only the right things. 

I don’t make resolutions because I’m genetically programmed to break them. Every year throughout my high school days I had more fun in drawing up study schedules, than really following them. I still finished my homework in the school, the next morning. I still asked for extended submission time for assignments. I still get angry. I still snooze my alarm till it gives up on me. I still  clog my arteries and veins with caffeine. I still fucking cry for Disney movies. Bloody hell, I still believe the next man I meet will be Prince Aladdin. 

This year, I’m turning 25 so I’m going plan instead of resoluting. That word should be added to Oxford dictionary. 

1. Don’t let the quarter-life crisis hit me.

I may turn 25, all single and currently not dating any hot men. I may have left my property declaration form blank because well, I have nothing to declare. I may have bank balance which can be emptied in a day for a pair of Jimmy Choo’s. I may be indebted with an amount so impossible to be paid off in a year or two. I may still be living with my parents and my dad taking care of my fuel expenses. 

BUT I refuse to let the panic kicking in. Remember, I am all bright and shiny. 

2. Travel to a new land.

Says it all. One land to conquer each year, before I grow old with Parkinson’s disease. No, I’m not diagnosed yet. No, I don’t have the courage to get examined as well. AND no, I’m not being paranoid. Shut up! 

3. More family time. 

I’m planning to reduce the intensity of my aloofness, especially in the family department. It makes no harm in letting your guards down slightly with those who stood by you all these years. It’s okay to be less smart, it’s okay to share the details of your dreams, it’s okay to treat them as your friends, it’s okay to put down the book you’re reading and talk to them instead. 

4. Rock FYDO-ship. 

First month into the government service, I’m enjoying what I get up for at half past five in the morning. I work at a small, ultra basic temporary clinic at the banks of Sungai Perak. The clinic is so basic that if we switch on the air conditioner, the circuit breaker trips. If we overload the consumption with multiple laptops, the fuse blows and burns your adapter.

We only have two rooms, one functioning wash basin, one small autoclave and a few headlights. Yet, we’re managing. It’s amazing how commune community posting can get. 

This is one resolution I intend to keep.

Keep getting entertained by dentistry. Learn as much as life offers to teach. 

5. Read. Read more. And more. And more.

I have to finish reading all the new books I purchased out of impulse, out of interest, out of first impression, out of loyalty and out of BR1M  courtesy. My mom is thanking me for not being able to go to Big Bad Wolf sales because if one more new book comes in, we have to sleep outside with the dog.

So by the end of 2014, I must have read at least 20 more books, be able to recite at least one Shakespearean play scene, learn 200 new bombastic words and memorize their meanings. 

6. Be happy. 

As simple as that. I want to be happy. Storms may blow hard this year. Big waves may try to topple the boat. Heavy rain can ruin long planned picnics. Heart throb may get married to a girl you least liked. Dentures may not fit perfectly and you may need Polident. Roots may fracture and simple extraction may turn into surgical removal. Some child patient may cry his heart out leaving you clueless in the middle of a ward. You may have to break bad news to your patients. You may get doubted of your competency and feel like crap sitting in the locker room. Some days you may want to just disappear into nothingness. Some people may let you down. You may let yourself down. 

Nevertheless I want to able to find happiness in the midst of all the tears. Or else, I want to be able to walk away when I know I am unhappy. If last year has taught me anything, then this is it. Never settle for something or someone who may seem perfect but fail to make you happy. 

It’s amazing how Grey’s Anatomy has quotes to suit every situations in life.

Dear 2013, 

I have to admit you were too hard to manage. There were times you hit me so hard that I wanted to just stop. There were times you lost me so badly that I felt like a blind, walking in zig-zag. Honestly I couldn’t wait to be done with you and say goodbye. Thank you for everything, I shall remember what you tried to tell me. And now, the long awaited goodbye. 

Sincerely,

2014-better-be-good.

 

I have reception clinic in the morning -.-

this makes me happy

It doesn’t take too much to please me. Rewatching Charmed season 4 brings back all the smiles to my life. Watching a shirtless Cole makes my day. Even wire bending doesn’t seem too bad. And trust me, I’m having a super hard time bending those wires. Aimee says the wires are like gay men. They can’t be straightened. I agree. Look at the irony, Adam’s pliers are used to manipulate the wires. How I wish they can be used to manipulate the Adams as well. Get a good grip with the pliers and bend it as you wish.

See that? That’s how you make an arrowhead of an Adam’s Crib. You’ll have to keep bending and bending till finally have cuts on your fingertips. That’s why Dentistry rocks. You get to play with wax, fire, light cures, stainless steel wires, and REAL patients. 🙂

courtesy of Jeannette

Another reason why Dentistry rocks. Our dean spends important moments with us. He tells stories about his college days and his favorite singer of his youth times. He poses sportingly for pictures. He gets enthusiastic when we are around. He says dental students look different from the others in the university. It may not be true, but who cares. It’s the way he cares for us that matters. He enters the Tech Lab to compliment on our postures. He enjoys looking at this particular picture and wants to show his European friends. Now how cool is that. 🙂

Some gifts go unappreciated in adolescent naivety. I totally regret letting go of this when I still had the chance to keep learning. Now that I’m determined to continue my Bharatham lessons, I’m stranded. The feel one gets when they know they’re good at something. I got it every time I tied the salangai on my legs. One of these days I shall get back the liberated feel.  Something tells me the days are not so far away. Just like how Ram says.

Isn’t this awesome?

Bharatham is an art. Art of bhava (expressions), raaga (rhythm) and thala (beats). You combine the eyes, neck, head, hands and feet movements simultaneously to perform stories. My bharatham days were wonderful. They brought a huge experience on its own. I used to love weekends because I had lessons in the weekend mornings. I had a group of friends with whom I had so much of fun. I remember being upgraded to the senior class in 1 year time. I was the youngest among all. Which automatically gave me the license to make mistakes and not getting scolded too severely. I went up the stage when I was 8 I think. And I simply loved it. I remember Mom being all nervous if I would make a mistake or fall on the stage. And the way my tutor convinced her saying I would do well and surprise everyone touched me. Till now I’m happy that I made my tutor proud of my performance. Though I’m not slightly as proud to let her down and stop halfway. I just had to because I was too insecure about what my teenage friends would tease seeing me on the stage performing. I know. Lame.