ESFJs generally have the following traits:

• Organized
• Loyal
• Can be depended on to follow things through to completion
• Enjoy creating order, structure and schedules
• Enjoy interacting with people
• Warm-hearted and sympathetic
• Tend to put others' needs above their own
• Very good at giving practical care
• Very cooperative, good team members
• Practical and down-to-earth
• Value peaceful living and security
• Enjoy variety, but work well with routine tasks
• Need approval from others
• Receive satisfaction from giving to others
• Live in the here and now - dislike theorizing about the future

The ESFJ has two primary traits which will help define their best career direction: 1) they are extremely organized and enjoy creating order, and 2) much of their self-satisfaction is gotten through giving and helping others. Accordingly, they will do well at tasks which involve creating or maintaining order and structure, and they will be happiest when they are serving others. The following list of professions is built on our impressions of careers which would be especially suitable for an ESFJ. It is meant to be a starting place, rather than an exhaustive list. There are no guarantees that any or all of the careers listed here would be appropriate for you, or that your best career match is among those listed. Possible Career Paths for the ESFJ:

• Home Economics
• Nursing
• Teaching
• Administrators
• Child Care
• Family Practice Physician
• Clergy or other religious work
• Office Managers
• Counselors / Social Work
• Bookkeeping / Accounting
• Administrative Assistants

10/25/2004 09:56:00 PM|W|P|Mabel|W|P|I decided to follow what Blogger suggested: open up a weblog specifically for NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) which is coming up in November. But before I go on... If most of you can recall, I did mention it here, and here...and while I had earlier decided not to sign up, I changed my mind and did it anyway. So here I am, in the running for what might turn out to be the craziest thing I ever did for my literary skills and ultimately my brain. WHAT: In a nutshell, I am attempting the challenge of writing 50,000 words and finishing by midnight of November 30th. I start on 1st of November from scratch. WHY: Because I have nothing else better to do? Nah...it is just for fun, and it will help me rid of excess thought patterns, kill time and get rid of my writer's block. HOW: Just sign up at NaNoWriMo and register (registration is already open - has been since 1st October) and prep yourself (or should I say myself?) for November 1st. Should I reach 50,000, I join the ranks of people who have achieved this mean feat of churning out some mean, funny incidents (if not logically and coherent) in the form of a literary prose. Plus I get a nice web icon and a certificate as well - online anyway. ^_~ So here...may I present to you... *drumroll* Untitled (for now anyway): The NaNoWriMo Challenge - complete with an introductory entry and an excerpt. Have a gander at it and leave some notes while you are there. And oh...wish me luck! |W|P|109871352829934913|W|P|The lead up to NaNoWriMo...|W|P|meiteoh@gmail.com10/24/2004 06:19:00 PM|W|P|Mabel|W|P|Every weekend it happens. As we near his departure time, I start getting a little bit sad. I start feeling this little bubble of emotion inside me; a feeling of restlessness, of loss, of pain, of...missing him. It is strange. He is there in front of me, still there - all of him - and yet, when I see him packing, folding his clothes and stuffing it into that backpack of his, I start to panic. Every weekend it is the same thing that I ask him. "Can you NOT leave, cheri?" And every weekend, his answer is the same. "I have to, cherie." And then it starts. The gentle swelling of tears, the reddening of the eyes, the stillness in the air...and he sees the teardrops, huge big fat ones just slowly trickling down my cheeks. At times it would seem that time just slows down for extra effect. At times it would seem that I am more emotional (thus shed more tears) when we don't make love at all that weekend. I suppose it is because we had connected with each other more on an emotional and mental basis than a physical one. And when he does leave and when I get home to the quiet of my room, I run to the shower, turn the tap on and stand under the sprays of water. Tears come naturally. It is the only place where I can cry freely, cry as much as I wanted...cry not because I am sad that he is leaving but because I cannot leave to be with him yet, because I love him too much, because I fear the unspoken...I fear losing him forever. Every weekend I hope to see him again the next time. Life is only so short and you can never tell the future. Every night, I hope to see him; every night I pray for his safety and health; every night I ask for another weekend to spend with him. I ask for another chance to see his gentle smile, to kiss his soft lips, to feel his warm skin against me, to be tickled by his rough stubble...to just be with him. For now, I'll have to settle for the sweet memories of holding his hand, feeling him pinch my bum whenever I tease him about a menage a trois, watching his face crinkle with many emotions, the way he kisses me and loves me...and hmm...he gave me something new to remember. The cheeky cheri of mine decided to lie in my bed...and get naughty in it! He swears he didn't stain any part of the bed or the pillows but did mention that it was an awfully comfortable bed and room, especially the pillows because they smell like me. Oh...did I mention that he left a couple of his shirts at my place? We decided (or should I say Mum forwarded the idea?) that since he was going to be staying at my place everytime he comes to visit, why not leave some of his clothes here...so he did. And like every other weekend before, today as I drove him to the LRT station, I shed a couple of tears, he kissed me more and just before he left, I cried some more, he kissed me some more - this time more intensely than before - mutters a few "your eyes are red, cherie..." - sniffs my neck a little and goes off... As I drive off, we give each other little waves as we always do...we each take that one last look. Driving with tears in your eyes is not good. The moment I reach home, I head for the shower where I proceed to do what I always do every weekend after he leaves - I cry openly. I felt better after...but seeing his shirts in my laundry basket didn't help. I found myself doing the silliest of things - smelling his shirts, smelling him and pretending...pretending that he was still here with me. And we fall into the routine again - a routine we established a while ago - a routine of nightly calls, daily chats, weekly visits...and of missing each other more than we care to. Here We Are by Gloria Estefan Here we are Face to face We forget, time and place Hold me now Don't let go Though it hurts and we both know why The time we spend together's gonna fly And everything you do to me Is gonna feel so right Baby when you're loving me I feel like I could cry 'Cause there's nothing I can do To keep from loving you Here we are All alone Trembling hearts, beating strong Reaching out, a breathless kiss I never thought could feel like this I want to stop the time from passing by I wanna close my eyes and feel your lips are touching mine Baby when you're close to me I want you more each time And there's nothing I can do, to keep from loving you...|W|P|109861320764668149|W|P|It is another routine.|W|P|meiteoh@gmail.com10/22/2004 09:53:00 PM|W|P|Mabel|W|P|NOTE: Time to change the actual tone of this entry. Have realized that I have the propensity to confuse the shit out of people with my emotionally charged ramblings and barbs directed to myself. *kekekeke* ...instead of getting all upset and worse, labelling me. Hm. Perhaps it is me that does the labelling and the 'getting all upset' to myself and no one else. *hits herself on the head* It all started with one little post here...and several comments that followed. What I began to realize is that sometimes perceptions never change, that people never change, that the world will never change to one whereby it is all rosy and great. I have come to realize that sometimes the most innocent of suggestions or comments which are made unintentional and out of goodwill instead (to seek to find a compromise that will please both parties) can be miscontrued as insensitive and insulting to others. Therefore must learn the tactful way or perhaps the correctly phrased way of suggesting things. I wonder if smilies will work. I have come to realize that sometimes even the holder of the most wisest of professions cannot let go of personal bias, narrow-mindedness, ignorance and apathy. Therefore most learn to withhold bias from a topic alien to oneself and perhaps instead of shooting my mouth off, ask questions? I have come to realize that sometimes even when you bow your head in humility and apology, the other party may not be so quick to understand, forgive and forget. Therefore must understand internally that to err is human, to forgive is divine and move on la. Blog function in this? Putting memories on paper so I don't forget my stupid mistakes. I have come to realize that a good many of us out there are keen on knowing many things and would know all these things, if only people with the information would stop labelling them or getting all appalled at our lack of knowledge. Therefore must learn to be patient, and not condescending whenever someone doesn't agree with me. Chances are I don't know the full story or they don't know the full story and that we are just trying to figure each other out. I have come to realize that sometimes honesty in thought and discourse may not be the best way in seeking information - many a times, it is better to stay ignorant and mute than to be ask and become wiser. Therefore must definitely learn the art of persuasive learning - and avoid stepping on people's toes when asking for information. ^_^ But I do have a plead despite learning all these things... Should I be found wanting in my own knowledge of the world, educate me...not call me names. After all, the learning process never ends and just because I am an "academician" - I prefer the word "educator" or "facilitator" - it doesn't mean that I stop learning. And hopefully I WILL learn many other things as well along the way which exclude prejudice and barbs. ps: Many thanks to those who have taken the time to educate one such poorly thought soul as I am. And honestly, sometimes my thoughts are poorly thought. I hate my hormones and fluctuating mood swings. |W|P|109845400613903947|W|P|Someone educate me please...|W|P|meiteoh@gmail.com10/22/2004 02:16:00 PM|W|P|Mabel|W|P|The Ex messages me out of the blue while I was getting my hands tattoo-ed with henna (my student was the one doing the work while I immobilize my hands on the office table). No, that is not weird but what he wrote was. "You are right. I realized that I still have not forgived myself for causing you grief. (one sentence missing here - I forgot.) You are right." Not that it was anything to shout about, but this coming a week after how his sister ranted and raved at me on this online forum...hm...suspicious. *shrugs* No matter. He doesn't affect my pay or my life - not anymore anyway. Oh. NG is staying with me this weekend...and for majority of his visits. We (my parents included) decided that it is alright for him to stay with us - helps him cut down some cost. Am thinking of surprising him with a gift, but am not too sure what to get yet. My parents on the other hand are taking us out for seafood - yum. He loves seafood and frankly, while I can't eat too much of it, I ENJOY THE DAMN STUFF. Frankly, I can't wait till he comes even though I have a wedding dinner to attend (which is why I got the henna) and won't be able to spend that much time on Saturday with him. *excited excited* ^__________________^ |W|P|109842625248759348|W|P|Weird.|W|P|meiteoh@gmail.com10/20/2004 08:57:00 PM|W|P|Mabel|W|P|Migraines DO NOT run in my family, especially BAD migraines. But there is always a first for everything much to my chagrin. I have been suffering from tension headaches - especially since my last relationship and since I got back from Australia a year ago. Stress from work, postgraduate studies and the Ex all contributed to the massive increase in the tension headaches I get. The sometimes dull throbbing on the right frontal lobe, the sharp pain in my right ear and in some instances, the back is annoying but never to the point of stopping me from working or watching a good round of something on the idiot box. My medication would be an internal attempt to relax or if it was really annoying, two little white round pills known as Panadol. Today would be different. It started with some fuzzy vision in the late afternoon, just as work was beginning to wind down. Somehow there would be blurry spots of fuzzy pattern lingering in my box of vision. Blinking would make it go away but only for a split second. The flourescent light was slowly getting whiter and whiter, almost to the point of blinding me. My head felt like someone had a rubber hammer pounding rythmically on the front right lobe. Thump. Thump. Thump. It was annoying. At first I thought it was a tension headache. But after half an hour, when it wouldn't go away but became more intense, I realized that it was more than just a simple tension headache. The rubber hammer started feeling as if it was a real hammer. This time, the front and lower back of my head were hurting. The fuzzy patterns started becoming patches and no spots as it were before. Everytime I blink, it came back with a vengeance. My ears? They were hurting me. Sharp shooting pains in the middle of my eardrums. Suddenly every single sound was magnified a gazillion times. Mum's regular pitch became annoying, not because she is in reality but because my now super sensitive ears hurt listening to her. Thump. Thump. Thump. Everything became irritating. The stupid driver who was weaving in and out without signal. The radio music which seemed as if it was amplifying the painful thumping I was feeling on my head. Mum's continuous chatter. Thump. Thump. Thump. By the time I got home, I looked so weathered out and my brain in so much pain that the grey fleece I had on made me look even paler than I really was. Even the bolster - when I tried to lie down on my bed - felt like wood, HARD wood with needles sticking out. Gah. Thump. Thump. Thump. NG suggested some drugs - I have been preparing for this - had early noticed that my tension headaches would get really bad during stressful periods of my working life, namely during exams and assignment due dates. So last month, I went to the nearby pharmacy and got some pills for migraines called Cateefot (or at least that's what this scribbly handwriting looks like - I swear doctors and pharmacists in general have problems writing legibly...). Thump. Thump. Thump. I popped on and proceeded to have dinner. For a moment, it would appear that the migraine would let me eat in peace and eventually go away. I was wrong. It came back with an even bigger vengeance. Suddenly my entire head felt like a drum, the fuzzy patches were back and the TV was annoying not relaxing. I got Mum to turn down the volume as I laid on my bed snuggling under the covers. It was hard because my room faces the living hall and the TV? Directly opposite my windows. Gah. Thump. Thump. Thump. I couldn't sleep. Closing my eyes hurt. Turning my head hurt. Blardy hell, even lying down on a pillow hurt. NG buzzed me, asking if I felt any better. No. I was hurting BADLY. I actually wished that someone could somehow unscrew my head and replace it with a new one. Heh. After what seemed like three hours after it first started, my FIRST awful migraine started going away. The thumping slowly ebbed away...the hammer became softer...and my hearing got back to normal. I got up from bed feeling like a kitten with a really BAD mood; even Dad didn't dared to tease me. When he mentioned how migraines don't run in our family, I casually but grumpily supplied... "There is always a first for everything, Dad." Bah. |W|P|109827714956614602|W|P|Migraines.|W|P|meiteoh@gmail.com10/15/2004 06:31:00 PM|W|P|Mabel|W|P|I was going to put in the standard stuff I did when I was in the early forms of secondary school but then again, I'm no longer that age. It has long slipped my grasp. So I reckon I'd should just get straight to the point. Note: I always have problems with coming up with my own profile simply because there is just too many things I want to say. ~_~ Who is the scarfer? Call me Mabel...or Mei, for people who have access to my blog. I am one half-Hakka and another half Hokkien. Having said that, I could very well have a little bit of Malay blood in me since somewhere along the line on Dad's side, one of my ancestors got jiggy with a local gal here. I have no surviving grandparents - the last surviving grandparent passed away when I was nineteen - but I have had many a joyful experiences with them from learning to cook to picking up my supposed mother tongue. Yes, I speak Hokkien (Penang Hokkien), Cantonese, Malay and of course, English. Am currently attempting to increase my fluency in French - hence the start of a French blog to monitor my progress in this language. I wouldn't say that I have a knack for picking up languages but my brush with the spoken tongue has always been interesting to say the least. I picked up Cantonese by watching Hong Kong movies and TV series.

I was born in Kuala Lumpur - or should I admit that it was more like the fringes of Petaling Jaya-Kuala Lumpur? - and lived a good many years of my life in Petaling Jaya, except for the one and half years in Sydney about two years ago. While some enjoy the city life with its hustle and bustle plus people, I for one can do without the traffic jams, pollution and crowd. I hate crowds. I love a cup of coffee at the bookstore and now that Borders has opened, it'll be one of my favourite jaunts. I have a BA in Mass Communication (Journalism & Film and TV Studies) and an MA in International Communication from Curtin University and Macquarie University respectively. My job? I work for an international publishing house located in Cyberjaya and my 'grand' job is to sub-edit legal, business and human resource documents for our Australian, New Zealand and Asian counterparts. I won't tell you the name of the company exactly but if you read my blog, you'll know it. Do I have a life? Sure...even though the picture up there can be deceiving (but that's only how I look whenever I have papers to grade - that was my previous job, btw - yeah, I used to teach first year and second year degree students in Mass Communication at a local college). BUT I am a simple person who enjoys simple things - a good movie, excellent reading material (and by that I mean anything - from fiction to non-fiction, comics to newspapers), music (a bit of jazz, new ages and oldies are great), photography and budget travelling. The keyword there is 'budget'. ^_^ I love drama, musicals and the threatre...but time and finances don't really permit me to indulge in these things on a regular basis. So I settle for the favourites and hope for a big fat lottery to hit my house one of these days. I am an odd mix. I enjoy reading classical literature, modern chick literature (even though lots of people turn their nose up against it), politics, cultural issues, gender debates, photobooks and even manga. My students think I'm a hybrid of both old and new culture. Great. I'm a walking oddity. Not that I care. How can I contact you? Well, there is my email and MSN but I must admit one thing - I'm skeptical about replying emails from complete strangers and I'm even less inclined to entertain an MSN chat message. So unless you have an EXCELLENT reason to give me a holler, don't. Leaving comments on my blog will suffice. Really...I'm a nice person. *winks*|W|P|111408700528009866|W|P|What's there to know about me?|W|P|meiteoh@gmail.com10/14/2004 09:42:00 AM|W|P|Mabel|W|P|I am so excited! Before I continue on, I had a dream nightmare about work - the first since I started working as a lecturer. Gah. Wait. I always have nightmares about my students - even when I'm awake. *lol* Anyway, the dream was such: I was in a lecture hall teaching Media Research Methods and going through some of the basics. At first the students were very quiet and listening. Then some started whispering. I continued on with my lecture, shifting from one point to another. When one of them asked me to elaborate further, I paused, explained for quite a while - the others begin to get restless. After my explanation, I continued on. This was when it started. Mutiny. Suddenly all my students were talking and dancing and what-not. To make matters worse, one of my colleagues was sitting there watching everything. The louder I yelled for my students to shut up, the noisier they got. It went on for five minutes. Five LONG minutes. Finally my colleague stood up, and yelled. The class went silent. And suddenly yelling started to ensue again - this time it was aimed at me. "We don't like her." "She sucks." "She doesn't know how to teach." It just echoed throughout the room. I felt so mortified and embarassed that I just picked up my stuff and left - practically in tears. It was humiliation for me at its worse. I wonder what this all means. But this entry isn't about this nightmare of mine. It is about tomorrow. Tomorrow, I will be meeting NG at the Johor Bahru Train Station. Tomorrow, I will be in Singapore, in NG's arms. Tomorrow, I will be celebrating my birthday with mon cheri who has some surprises for me and a romantic dinner in store. Tomorrow will be the start of a super weekend for me and NG. I think he mentioned something about taking me shopping and I so want to check out the zoo (heard it's one of the best in the world and known for conservation programs or something like that!). We might go yarn shopping too! ^__________________^ Yes, definitely looking forward to tonight's train trip which will lead me into his arms tomorrow. In less than 24 hours, I'm going to be 25. And know something? I am really happy with who I have become and where I am. I have fulfilled many of my life's dreams and on the way to fulfilling at least another two more - relationships and my PhD. What more can anyone ask for? So here's to a good weekend...and don't miss me while I'm away! ^_^ |W|P|109771980263065750|W|P|Birthday bash for me...|W|P|meiteoh@gmail.com10/13/2004 09:48:00 AM|W|P|Mabel|W|P|Dear YK, We have been friends for many years - since our first year in college and till this very present day. And it has never failed to amaze me how you are the epitome of a human being who is unable to change because of selfish, self-centred thoughts and beliefs. Is it any wonder why we drifted apart? Especially more now than ever. I still remember meeting you the first time. You had your nose up in the air, thinking that I was just like one of those girls who smoked, drank and cussed - all because I sat next to one and had some small talk with her. You remarked that you were surprised to discover that I was, in actual fact, different - that I don't smoke, I don't cuss, I was fairly traditional and to a certain extent like you. But we weren't alike - as I knew from the beginning and began to notice as our friendship grew. You had your faults, which I tolerated more than others did. I sometimes wonder why I did that, why I swallowed your hurtful words, your judgemental opinions of others - was it because I pitied you? Was it because I felt sorry for you and your loneliness? Was it because I emphatized with you? You confided in me your worries and I did my best to soothe them and in return, decided to help you grow. I warned you gently that your failure to curb your mouth could lead to your inevitable destruction as a social being. I taught you that being a Christian meant more than just adhering to a 'godly' life - it meant living like Christ and being more tolerant of people - something which you were not capable of then. You spoke of wanting to change and you spoke of trying to change. A year or two down the road and you still were the same. By this time, you had managed to offend many of your friends - including me. You told T to break off with her boyfriend simply because the guy didn't conform to your ideals as a boyfriend, because he wasn't good enough for you. When T refused, you threw tantrums and made things worse by constantly hanging around the two of them. You mothered T, you nagged her and you even gave her pointers on what NOT to do - in other words, you undermind her abilities as a grown woman. You did the same to me as well (and my own best friend) - always emphasizing that you had my best interests at heart...but sometimes I wonder. Your little words...the things you said...it hurt more than it nurtured... Was it because you were jealous of the fact that everyone around you was falling in love and you were still the lonely one? Was it because you couldn't stand the idea of anyone else close to you getting best friends and lovers of their own to turn to? Was it because you were so possessive of your friends that the mere idea of a boyfriend coming into their lives was forbidden? So we all started to drift apart from you. Could you blame any of us? I couldn't stand you belittling me for my lack of faith, for the fact that my house has lovely Ming-like vases and jade sculptures, for the fact that there is no cross on my wall at home... I couldn't stand you belittling people without getting to know them first, the hypocrite in you - all that talk about loving God and you judge people at the first instance. I couldn't stand your words - uttered without thought, compassion or care - just uttered to soothe your own injured, lonely soul. I couldn't stand you anymore. A few years later, we have all graduated, grown up - me? I went over to Australia for my Masters, my best friend became the best at her job (been at it for nearly two over years now), T is working in Indonesia as an offline editor...we all grew up and started etching our own careers. You? You started writing under contract for a children education centre...in the past two years, you switched jobs three times (I think), got fired and when I first met you after coming back from Australia, I asked you this: what of the job security that you spoke so much about in the past? You could not answer me. Instead as we talked about my then boyfriend, my experiences in Australia, your face got darker and when I spoke about my job (teaching English to international students) and some of the tutorial activities I gave them, you started judging again - ranting on and on about homosexuality and how it was your god-given right to tell them to go straight. Yup, you haven't changed AT ALL. Today I find out that you are lonely and that you are homesick. So you want to return to your parents. You left your job and am currently just waiting for the time to go home. You want to go back to studying and be a secondary school teacher, teaching English in Sabah. Funny how this was coming back to me again - you confiding in me and telling me how you were running away from your family in Sabah - that was why you came to KL - so you could run away from your parents and build yourself up. Now you are running away again with the excuse that you are tired of moving to and fro, that you are tired of being lonely, of having no friends and tired of missing your parents. And then you turn on me - saying that I do not understand what loneliness feels like, that I do not understand her because I have NG and that I have never been alone ALL my life. What pricked me even more than that was when you started asking questions about NG's faith and when I told you he wasn't religious, you went "See...that is why we are different. He isn't good enough for me." Well, YK, he isn't dating you and where the fuck do you come off telling me that? Where the fuck do you come off sounding so self-righteous and stuck up? Are you jealous of the fact that within ten months of being single, I found a man who makes me happy? Are you jealous of the fact that I have dated several times and you never at all? You whine and bitch about how lonely you are and know something? IT IS ALL YOUR FUCKING FAULT not mine! You do it to yourself. You do it to yourself whenever you go around sprouting words without thinking, without considering how it would sound like to other people and in the end, you dare ask people why they feel offended or hurt. All the things I told you to be aware of, all the things I told you to change - you casually forgot them - no apparent loss to me. I am not the one who is suffering from loneliness, neither am I the one who has problems retaining her friends. You said you were lonely, that you wanted to meet someone and you wanted to get married by the age of 25...you are 25 now, and where are you in life? Are you where you want to be? Do you even know where you want to be? When I ask you to go out and meet friends, you say that you want to since you can't spend all your time at church and in the same breath, when I ask you out, you say you are busy with church. What gives? All this talk about being closer to God - you look down on me because to you, I am the black sheep of the Christian faith. Because I am not a good enough Christian. Because despite my theological background and knowledge (which is far better than yours through our previous discussions on the Bible and what-not), I am still a lousy Christian. I don't think it is because of that. I think it is because you can't stand the fact that God choose to bless someone like me (someone who has lost a lot of their faith) with a great and fruitful life. Even though I am no longer a pious Christian, I am still grateful for His many blessings in my life. Perhaps I should let you in on a secret. Christianity is more than just about putting up pretenses. It is about tolerance, accountability, change and a more godly behaviour. A godly behaviour does not mean jumping down another person's throat just because they have a different sexuality or because their boyfriend isn't a Christian. A godly behaviour does not mean sprouting things at a whim knowing that it will hurt people. A godly behaviour does not mean putting up pretenses. Your behaviour and actions remind me of a group of people that existed a long time ago. They were called the Pharisees. And you want to know what Christ - the person whom you believe in - called them? Hypocrites. I suppose some things will never change. Runners will always be runners and whiners will always be whiners. Me? I'm tired of you. Period.|W|P|109763538817995476|W|P|Some things never change...|W|P|meiteoh@gmail.com10/11/2004 01:54:00 PM|W|P|Mabel|W|P|Since I have some free time to kill just before today's lecture, I thought I would make up for the lack of blog entries since the NG's entrance in my life. Now first of all, it must be understood that just because I am a woman and thus endowed with a female brain, it does not mean that I pick up languages just like that or at an ease. It took me a couple of years and hundreds of movies (and TV soap dramas) just to learn Cantonese and speak it the way I do - enough to get by should I choose to live in Hong Kong. It took me about 100 (actually it was close to 200 because M'sian TV here split the hour long episodes into half with commercials and what-nots) over episodes of La Usurpadora (I LOVED this show even though it was bloody dramatic with all the adulterous affairs and who bonking who - got Mum hooked on it as well!) just to learn a few bits and pieces of Mexican - which I have long forgotten them now (except for the word punta ) - I last watched that telenova nearly five years ago. And while I was busy picking up bits and pieces of Mexican, I picked up a little bit of Italian because I was 'seeing' an Italian guy (who oddly enough, looks a little like NG ) - I even attempted to write a full mushy letter in Italian which made him break out into peels of laughter because I got everything wrong - from the grammar to the feminine/masculine nouns. When I was dating the Ex, my Hokkien improved because that was what I spoken to HIS parents (even though they speak English). Funnily enough, the Ex does not speak a word of Hokkien and refuses to. So I practiced with his parents and got Mum roped in - to teach me since she picked it up after marrying Dad. So it is needless to say that the moment I decided to hook up with NG, I had expected that I would be picking up French. What I didn't expect was that it would be bloody hard! French TV soaps are non-existent here in Malaysia. French movies? Geh...having trouble finding them - so I'm consoling myself by watching everything in French - from Shrek 2 to Two Weeks Notice. Mum had a ball of a time laughing her ass off when I told her that I was trying to pick up French by doing that first - get accustomed to the accent and pronounciation. The French way of pronounciation was equally hard - not to mention the fact that the older I get, the harder it is for me to pick up languages. BUT I was trying and still am. Using everything I could in terms of resources - from free online translations (which suck, btw!) to just bluntly asking NG for help - just to pick up the language. Besides, I have this strange fascination for learning languages. He has been extremely understanding and patient - after our highland trip and just before he went back to Singapore, we had walked around 1-Utama and lingered particularly in MPH, going through the travel books and hear ye, hear ye - phrase books. He picked up a Lonely Planet French phrase book and with me standing in front of him - since he is one head taller than me and that he likes to cuddle - we had a ball of a time trying out some of the phrases. I got most of the pronounciation wrong though. At the end of that trip, he casually mumbled that he would get me that phrase book. So last weekend, after making love quietly in his backpacker room (which was right next to the lounge) and cuddling for a bit, I prodded him to go get a shower and freshen up. He bends down to get his towel and retrieves this Kinokuniya bag from his backpack. "Here you go, cherie." *stunned look on my face* "I hope you like it." He drops a kiss on my lips and runs off to take the shower leaving me to unpack it. And I spent five minutes grining from one ear to the other and staring at the bag in my hands, still stunned. I opened it and there it was - Lonely Planet French phrase book and French for Dummies (complete with a CD). He comes back - because he left his shampoo and stuff in the backpack. "Thank you, cheri...I love it." (Just in case you are confused, cherie means it's to address a woman, cheri is to address a man - the 'e' tells it all!) He smiles, we kissed and he runs off for a shower. Since then, I have been slowly practicing but the main problem with it: I'm so shy when trying to converse in French because I'll burst out into laughter at the thought of it sounding so wrong. Must put all thoughts of that aside and continue to muster on - I know NG lightens up whenever I try to say something in French and frankly, seeing that on his face makes me beam! ^__________^ Speaking of which, I must install that CD into my PC at home. And oh, before I forget to wish you all.... Bonjour and au revoir! |W|P|109747313817106135|W|P|Bonjour!|W|P|meiteoh@gmail.com10/11/2004 08:50:00 AM|W|P|Mabel|W|P|I got tanned for the first time in two years. *waves fist at stupid sun on Saturday during sports carnival* I ran into ex-boyfriend during a coffee session while I was with NG and Friend. The situation went well - we sat inside, ex-boyfriend was with some of MY friends (so I went out to say hi to them and totally ignored him since he was busy talking to this girl - major flirt - she hates my guts). Managed to get the crowd all riled up into asking me why I didn't want to join them or introduce my boyfriend. Luckily for me, one of my guy friends just told them all the shut up - politely that is and I escaped back to NG and Friend. The night went well. I watched a movie with NG and Friend on Sunday after we made a trip up to the Skybridge. The queue to get the free tickets (yup, it's free to get up there) was ultra long, coupled with the fact that the ATMs were also having the same problem (tonnes of Banglas and Indons queueing for gawd knows what - could be pay day!). After getting the tickets, we went to Delifrance for breakfast because it was the only place opened at 9am - and proceeded to have a very typical French breakfast (as I am told)....baguette, butter, jam and croissant. It was the first time in ages that NG and Friend ate a French breakfast so they bought a huge baguette, four slabs of butter - sliced the bread into half and ate it that way. O_O! It was uber funny and we made a mess of the the table - well, the two of them actually (my side was fairly neat)... Found out that Friend is very very scared of heights and that after a while, 170m off street level ain't so fun anymore. I got shaky knees and NG had a nice time taking panoramic shots. Upon exiting, we lingered around in the exhibition area where we played some of the games there and fiddled with the displays. There was one particular display that was fascinating - a cube game whereby you have to assemble these tetris like pieces into a cube. I got so frustrated while NG was busy fiddling with an atomic assemble game that I was trying over and over again...and then finally, NG took over. He looked at it for a bit...went "No..no...you can't put this piece here...it's supposed to be like this..." and in about five minutes, it was a perfect cube. *waves fist at mon cheri* Just kidding - that's why he's the engineer and I'm the writer. ^________^ After the Skybridge, we had some free time, so we spent most of it at the park - while Friend took pictures of the Twin Towers, NG and I sat and cuddled on the green. The wind was very nice and halfway cuddling, it got romantic and we exchange a gentle kiss. I turned out to see where Friend was and caught him taking a picture of us! Papparazi alert!!!!!!!!!!!!! *lol* Anyway, he took some pictures of us as a couple in all the weird positions - some reminded me of wedding shots that they do here...there is even one of us with exchanging eskimo kisses (nose rubbing!). Must remember to put it up if NG passes them over to me. Oh...we bought tickets for The Bourne Supremacy. It was good, quite entertaining but I prefer the first movie - better storyline and well, it didn't feel so...bleh. I was yawning most of the time in the cinema and hm...can't seem to find the right words for it but it just didn't give much of a kick compared to the first 'episode'. And I was pleasantly surprise to note that NG is extremely affectionate - we managed to cuddle in the cinema and towards the last hour, he started dropping kisses on my forehead and smooching my hand and stroking my cheeks... ^_________________^ After the movie, Friend went to take some pictures and left me and NG alone - so we walked around and on a whim, looked at lingerie. *winks* I wanted to get this one piece thing for a costume party but couldn't find any. We ended up in La Senza, admiring the babydoll teddies and this uber fun but complex looking corset. NG got a hard-on watching me pick up some of the pieces and going "Hm...this looks gorgeous but if I get it, I won't be able to get you off me." How I know he got a hard-on? Because I just do. Don't ask. ^_~ Now, mon cheri wants to take me shopping when I go down to see him this weekend - it's supposed to be a birthday present he says. *giggles* So yes...for my birthday, it will just be me and him... I hope it'll be a good month. ^_________^ [UPDATE] So here are some of the pictures the 'papparazi' took of us. My particular favourite? The eskimo kiss. Just us, the globe and the Twin Towers. What did I tell you about him being a head taller? We have a papparazi on our hands! The eskimo kiss - my favourite picture... |W|P|109745778199448327|W|P|The weekend - in brief.|W|P|meiteoh@gmail.com10/07/2004 10:47:00 AM|W|P|Mabel|W|P|Really. Women are such sensitive, irrational, emotional creatures - or at least, this one anyway. During our short conversation this morning, I managed to get all upset at NG (well, I didn't yell at him or anything like that - just felt oddly sad and a bit pricked) for a small little reason: when I called him yesterday, he failed to mention that he was busy but kept on talking to me despite that fact and today, he mentioned that (together with an explanation of why he was a little cold during that conversation towards me) just after I told him why I sometimes call him during the day...because I miss him. Sounds confusing huh? Trust me, when I first thought of it, it sounded confusing to me as well...not to mention petty too. So while he went away to tend to his experiments (he is a research associate), I spent a good ten minutes ranting and raving about it to someone...only to go all sheepish at the end and feel utterly silly for getting myself all upset over something trival AND perhaps something that was mentioned rather light-heartedly. Come to think of it, his 'confession' sounded like an apology...and after last night (we had a very interesting chat session over the phone ^_~), I don't think he was the least bit upset with me for bugging him. All this, of course, transpired between Me and Myself. Perhaps this conversation will give you a better idea of what really happened. Myself: What? What? WHAT?!? How could he say that? But it isn't my fault. Me: I don't think he said that, Myself. He just mentioned that he was busy when you called and whatever he was doing wasn't really important to begin with. Myself: Still...I mean he should have told me that. He should have said that he was busy instead of telling me NOW. Me: *rolls eyes* You know...this sounds kinda petty. I still have no idea what you are pissed about. Myself: I'm pissed over the fact that I am being blamed for something which I can't even fucking control. How fair is that?!????? Me: Excuse me but I don't think he was blaming you for anything. He was just explaining that he gets busy sometimes. I doubt it was intentional, y'know. Stop being a drama queen, will ya? Myself: *shuts up and thinks for a long while* Me: He isn't the Ex so quit comparing what he does with what the Ex put us through. I want to move on with him. I love NG so I am not going to let you ruin things with your petty squabbling and whiny attitude. Just chill and relax will ya? Myself: *cowers* Oh-kay. ... Sometimes I let Myself get the better of me - she is after all the more insecure of the two - but this time no way; no way am I going to continue being a sensitive and irrational creature that I once was. Here is a good man who loves me...and loves me a lot he does. Now to get back to lunch and sending NG naughty SMS-messages. |W|P|109711761819263436|W|P|Women are sensitive creatures.|W|P|meiteoh@gmail.com10/06/2004 10:04:00 PM|W|P|Mabel|W|P|My mind is troubled. I can't seem to pinpoint what about exactly. All I know is that the heart isn't peaceful. Listening to Mi Mancherai (Il Postino) is suppose to be soothing; normally it would do its trick but this time it isn't working. Yoga this evening only made things worse - my body has gone into some not-so yummy aches (glass of milk helps - that was a good tip!) and I just feel more tired out than refreshed. The setting is there - everything I need for a relaxing soothing time - freshly washed hair that smell of Africa Spa by The Body Shop, the gentle cooling breeze of the fan and great music... And it isn't working. I tried to write some poetry only to cancel it out and trash it. I tried to do some reading only to shut the book before I could get past the first paragraph. I entertained the idea of watching a movie on my pc only to erase it from my mind. WHAT IS WRONG? All I can think of is my life. The direction of my life, where I am heading towards, is it where I want to go, is this what fate/Man Upstairs has in store for me...is this for me? I stare at the calender and all I see are dates. Too many dates actually. First date: October 15th is my birthday. I celebrate it every year. This year, I will be turning 25 and it is next Friday. In the past, since I turned eighteen, I have made it a point to celebrate the coming years with one thought "I am alive" - I was seventeen when I went for an open heart surgery. Then it came. On my 20th birthday, my grandmother - who is a shrewd, manipulative woman - died on my birthday and since then, it has never been the same. A year later....or rather just two weeks before it, my first ex broke up with me. -.- Since then, my birthdays have been little quiet affairs (not that I mind) - it was my little way of saving it to celebrate with that special someone - to celebrate the real meaning of my birthday...that on this faithful day, I graced the Earth and that I still continue to live. I long for the day when someone special in my life would send me roses a day or two before, cook me a special dinner and just tell me how lucky he is to have me. Second date: October 24th, 2003 is the day I flew back from Sydney. As the date looms nearer, my subconscious goes into nostalgia and painful memories. It wasn't too long ago that I was breathing fresh cool Sydney air, that I was lounging along the greens along the Sydney Harbour staring into the clear blue skies graced with the Opera House in the foreground, that my antique manual camera was all I need to capture the essense of the city, that I had winged visitors to my townhouse in the form of wild parrots, that I found myself...my life...my purpose in a city that now seems so far away, so unattainable...so out of reach. I don't know whether to celebrate or to mourn. Third date: November 10th, 2003 is my first day of working in KL after being away for nearly one and half years. I never thought teaching was for me. Since I was sure of what I wanted to do with my life, I wanted to write. I loved writing. I loved playing with words, describing emotions and visuals into imaginary weaves of fantasy, love, drama, hope...and suddenly after becoming a writer, it didn't seem like it was something for me anymore. Dad suggested that I leave my then-job to take up my Masters - a promise I made since I was a child to myself and my family...it was a kiddish promise... "Mummy, I'll get you a Doctor on my cert and I hang it on the wall, k?" I was six then. And the dream, the promise remained with me. Never did I think that this would be the path that would lead me there - a path that involved me taking the shoes of the people who molded me, the people who guided me, the people whom I thought I would never become. This date is coming closer and as it does, it will bring to heart a new chapter in my life - a chapter that speaks of stability, direction and finally the middle of the journey towards another one of my goals in life. Yes...that 'Doctor' on my certificate. ... So many dates...and none of them as significant as these dates - September 11th - the day I met NG...September 21st - the day he asked me to be his girlfriend and I said YES...October 4th - the day I realized that I was falling in love with him... So many...memories. |W|P|109707392182185092|W|P|Memories.|W|P|meiteoh@gmail.com10/06/2004 02:36:00 PM|W|P|Mabel|W|P|Suddenly, I have ran out of things to report say on my blog. I wonder if it is because my life has grown complacent, or because nothing seems to irk me enough to put in down onto pen and paper (or should I say, keyboard and monitor?), or perhaps it could be because I am more preoccupied with the little things in life...things like NG's weekly weekend visit up, my upcoming Pill prescription (need to remember to check with the doctor for alternative generic brands), the diploma's mid term break, and my plans to make some scarves for NG's family - Christmas is coming up. Maybe I should say something about this weekend. Just a tiny squeek about how people at this particular forum which I go to are planning a gathering and that I would love to go - meet all my old buddies (been years since I last saw them). Except for one tiny glitch. The Ex is going to be there - and he might bring his best friend (that pouffiasse)...quite the last people I want to see until the day I die actually. I have nothing against the two of them, except that they just make me so sick. It just irritates me, that's all - that I have to reconsider my schedule and my social life just because we used to go to the same forum (still do actually) and also because everything he says to me is just reeking with too much sweetness that it sounds so fake and sickly. Luckily for me, I have some form of relief in the form of NG. He suggested just going to say hi and stuff; even went "If they ask, I'll just go 'Hi, I'm Mei's boyfriend. Don't like me? Too bad. I don't really fucking care.', have a drink, stay around a bit or two and then leave." I on the other hand don't want to risk a confrontation between the Ex and NG - shouldn't have to think about that because I owe the Ex nothing anymore and NG is a very amiable man. So the deal is this: I'm going to take NG and his friend (who loves sushi and is nuts about ginger) to this little place at Sunway for dinner and then adjourn for coffee - ironically the same place where the gathering will be held (because we don't want to travel too far). But who cares? I don't have to sit with them and chat - just show my face, wave high and run off. And let the Ex handle all the questions. Sounds good. What do you think? |W|P|109704657167780816|W|P|Quiet times.|W|P|meiteoh@gmail.com10/04/2004 08:52:00 PM|W|P|Mabel|W|P|I decided to give my blog a more light-hearted feel - well, it probably has more to do with the fact that I have nothing to comment on that Jeff Ooi fiasco; and that if you were to ask me more about my life, I would give you sugary nothings about my love affair with a certain Frenchman (*winks*)...so yeah... 1.Describe yourself In a few words - "a gentle hearted nymph" In a lot of words...well, lets split things up a bit. Physically, I have dark brown, chocolatey eyes with dark brown-blonde highlighted hair. I am 5 feet 1.5 inches and approximately 54 kilos/120 pounds - I think (can't seem to do any conversions properly). My measurements are 36C-28-35 and I'm hoping to get my waist down to 26 - it is a slow process but I don't mind it, really. I love my hands, especially when my nails are long and polished - it makes my fingers look slightly more slender than they really are. I like to think that I have a muscled lower body - which includes my butt and legs. NG seems to enjoy admiring them, so I reckon it is something to enjoy looking at. ^_~ And oh, I have a surgical scar trailing in between my breasts. Hard to miss actually - because I really don't give a damn what people think when they do see it. Nevertheless, it's nice to watch them fluster about, mustering up the courage to ask me the specifics. *grin* Emotionally, I am ambitious, outspoken, intellectual, serious yet witty, independent when I need to be, extremely sensitive, emphatatic, idealistic, cheerful, humble, hardworking and dependable. People tell me that they enjoy conversing with me because I am open-minded and I don't mind a good laugh. Used to suffer from manic depression and nearly went schizo (thanks to the Ex) but am a-okay now! Common hobbies include writing (mostly blogging these days), reading, intellectual rumination, travelling, meeting people, knitting (I can never forget that), music (playing and listening) as well as learning new stuff. I love knowledge too much not to want to learn anything. 2. What are the things you talk with your parents; what are the issues teenagers discuss among themselves? Lets see... With Mum, it is the very typical 'feminine stuff' like housechores, cooking, boys, work, gossip, TV shows...she is almost like a best friend to me, so you could say that we talk about almost everything except the details of my relationship (which I like to keep to myself). With Dad, it is often very intellectual or technical stuff such as politics or fixing the car radio and etc. He is sort of my discussion buddy - someone whom I can relate to intellectually and politically. Although it has to be noted that there are some things we don't agree upon but essentially I share a good relationship with my parents - almost friend-like with that parental boundary. Teenagers? Well, I'm a good five years over that definition but what me and my friends talk about are mostly about work, issues (can be any - social, religious, political), new stuff going on among other friends, our personal life (depending on how close we are) and stupid stuff sometimes. 3.Some teenagers can just talk about anything with their parents, some cannot, what could possibly be the reason? I suppose the inherent reason would lie in maturity and the open-ness of both parent and child. Some 'teens' are more cautious of their parents and see them as an authoritative figure (and nothing else), thus creating a boundary/barrier between themselves and their parents - it can happen vice versa as well. Others like myself and some people I know approach their parents as facilitators and advisors, there to assist when needed and not to control, push around or puppeteer them around. We see them not as people who control and manipulate our lives but as people who enhance it. 4. How do you describe your relationship with your parents? Who do you trust more? Your parents or your frens? My relationship with my parents - I don't regret admitting this - is a wonderful one. Yes, occasionally I bitch about them (they are still my Mum and Dad, y'know) but I love them to bits and I am very proud of who they are. They have their shitty points but it makes them unique and who they are - best part about it is that if it weren't for their shitty points, I wouldn't be who I am today. Their shitty points? Mum nags - just like all mothers - and she is brutally blunt in a joking-comical manner. It is part of who she is. Dad is disciplined and quiet - just like most fathers - and because he is quiet (he believes that mothers and daugthers should be close and have this bond with each other, so he doesn't talk to me about boys and shit like that), he manages to surprise me A LOT! My friends and I are close - I treat my close friends like my siblings and I treat my other friends the way I would love to be treated - but there are some things you carry to the grave with you. I trust my best friend; she is almost like a younger sister that I never had before and I love her to bits. My boyfriend is slowly becoming my best friend - I share a lot of my life with him and certain things which I don't reveal to people, I share it with him. At the end of the day, I trust me first, my parents and then my friends. Of course the boyfriend comes in the middle of it all and honestly, I trust him and my parents equally. 5.What is your attitude towards life?What is your attitude towards people? I love it yet I never want to live forever - because after all, just like Dorian Gray, you start to get bored of life, you grow pessismistic because you have seen it all. Life should be like a breath of fresh air, taken with a new insight every day, taken with new hope, new joys, new pains. Why do I say pain? Because without pain, there can be no hope, no joy and no comfort. I look forward to tomorrow. To dreaming. To the smell of rain. To catch the sunset/sunrise. To watch the flowers bloom. To hold his hand and feel his skin against mine. To spend the night in the arms of the one I love. To travel to many lands. To partake and experience different cultures. To learn more about life and its mysteries. To walk down the aisle. To have children. To grow old. To love. To cry. To be me. Without people, I would never learn the meaning of hypocrisy. Of activism. Of betrayal. Of love. Of hatred. Of peace. Of war. Of suffering. Of humanity. Of hope. Of wisdom. Of ignorance. Of empathy. Of apathy. Of imperfection. Of romance. Of reality. Of utopian. Of hell. Of stupidity. Of tact. Of dependency. Of coldness. Of warmth. In short, without people, there would be no life and no me. 6.In what ways teenagers of tommorow(20 yrs from now) different from today's teenagers? Perhaps a little bit more liberal, a little bit more knowledgeable, a little bit more caring of others and not just themselves and finally, perhaps a little bit more human. I'm hopeful. I know. |W|P|109689727009926498|W|P|Of being me.|W|P|meiteoh@gmail.com10/04/2004 10:15:00 AM|W|P|Mabel|W|P|So I was away for the weekend. No Internet, no work, no issues...just me, NG and the mountains. Nothing to bother us; nothing to interrupt our precious few moments together...nothing bad, everything magical. There, while lying in each other's arms cuddling under the sheets, we discovered that we were falling in love with each other. We spent two whole hours gazing at each other, dropping gentle kisses, trying to muster up the courage to say those three little words or admit to the fact that we were falling in love only to already know what the other person had always felt. And when we finally did say it, I shed a few tears of happiness and he held me tighter. It is hard to explain the soft gentle loving gaze. The best I could ever describe it would be that I saw heaven in his eyes. We went walking around in the cool air, spent time cuddling and talking over a bottle of French wine, dropping gentle kisses to each other while walking around...it was...romantic as hell and...right. The nights (and sometimes the weird hours of the day) were spent in each other's arms - it didn't help that the most of the apartment we stayed in was lined with mirrors. *cheeky look* Nevertheless, it was one weekend that I will find hard to forget. ps: Home suddenly feels empty without him around - his laughter, his smile, his presence. Parents like him to bits (particularly my dad) and the blogsphere is in chaos. Yes...I didn't miss much. I was busy living my life, remember? |W|P|109685685323549751|W|P|Living it this weekend.|W|P|meiteoh@gmail.com10/01/2004 11:28:00 AM|W|P|Mabel|W|P|For those of you who have been visiting this blog, you will note that there was a lot of hell to pay in the past few days with the brush between me and a prominent writer working for MSN.com. Because of my error in judgement and in reading her article (which I realized after re-reading the article for nearly ten times) and upon receiving an explanation from her, I apologized personally to her. Nevertheless the 'drama' continued on...and as it did, I started to wonder why some people find race an issue and why some don't. I wanted to look beyond the "race IS an issue" reason and dive in deeper to find if people could give me REAL reasons as to why race IS an issue with them. I didn't ask for reasons that parrallel-ed "because they are different", "because they have a different culture"...those were rather superficial answers that I get from my students. I wanted some insights as to why race mattered to some people. Was it because of upbringing? Because of heritage? Because of thought patterns? Because of inherent, biological insecurities? Admitedly, I had my fair share of hurting the author and questioning her credibility as a writer for relationships - to which I apologize for - and I suppose the ungoing drama (which started off in one forum, and lead to my blog, and then to another forum and even my classroom - as an experiment in prejudice - no names were given) blew out of proportion to the extent that it began to affect both me and her (the writer). I got tired of defending my view points. Contrary to popular belief, I don't like conflict and it was getting tiresome apologizing over and over again. So I retracted my comment, deleted my blog entry (together with all the 34 comments - sorry guys, I had to) and deleted all the comments I made in the other forum with relations to the article she wrote. My apologies for the people who feel insulted from my post. ps: Taking a hiatus for now. Need it badly.|W|P|109660232639101639|W|P|A deleted post.|W|P|meiteoh@gmail.com