7 hours

A distance of 6,000 kilometres separates me from an entire 23 years of history. 23 years of a life, true enough, with its ups and downs, but I was always loved. I didn't leave Malaysia because I hated the country (though I do hate the way things are run). I didn't leave because I chose someone over everything I had there. I left because I needed to follow my heart and I needed a change.

I miss the popiah ladies at the SS2 night market who have never failed to recognise me, the rojak lady at Taman Tun who always remembered my intolerance of raw mangoes. I miss being with people who have known me forever, as an ugly little girl, a pimply adolescent, a talkative young woman - I miss not having to explain myself and my motives, that I'm really just 17 at heart and often haven't a clue. I miss making stupid, perverse, unfunny jokes that people laugh at only because they care enough to. I even miss our weird taxi drivers who have no qualms about questioning my entire personal history within seconds of meeting.

Yet this distance has its advantages. In the 4.5 months I've been here, I've hit the lowest point in my life. Thing is, I've been so blessed my entire life, I've never known the taste of failure. In fact, the only time I've ever really failed at anything was a Tax paper. I've never had to work too hard to get what I want and coming here has been a slap on the face. Failing to get a job, failing to even pass my driving test. I know it doesn't sound so bad to the average person, but with repetition, it can leave even the most optimistic person (read: me) depressed and suicidal.

Distance strips away the superficialities of relationships and bares them for what they really are. When X and I were doing the whole long distance thing, no one understood why. But the thing is, I knew I had to grow up and enjoy my bachelorette-hood and freedom before I could really commit to a relationship. And instead of focusing on the physicalities of courtship, we chose to enjoy emotional connection through words, written and verbal. This proved to be the right choice - from the start, we felt like we've never been apart at all. In these 4.5 months, friends whom I considered to be my dearest have slowly fallen away to the odd MSN message or nothing at all. Others have blossomed. Some old acquaintances here have extended their friendships, often going out of their way to meet me for a quick meal when I'm nearby. Those unable to be physically present continue communication, writing extensive, heartfelt e-mails or counselling me on MSN for lengthy periods.

My relationship with my family had always never been particularly deep. My choice of adjective may not be particularly usual, but it illustrates that we've always had a relationship, I'm just not sure how much we cared. We had nothing like the tempestuous dilemmas that befall the Brothers & Sisters clan, but it was always lukewarm and only surface-skimming. Yet in coming here, we're forced to confront each other one-on-one over the phone. Without all the usual daily mundaneities to talk about, I feel like I'm finally really getting to know my family. And I love what I'm discovering everytime.

With all the wise words I get from friends, new (you will not believe how the event of immigration draws people from opposing ends of the earth together) and old, I'm slowly returning to my former optimism. And while I can never replicate the life I had back then, I hope to create another which will bring me as much happiness.

Someone else's happy ever after

X and I had a relatively hectic weekend. His friend got married to a lovely lady who is the epitome of a living Barbie doll. Long blonde hair? Check. Waspish waist with generous bosom? Check. Shiny teeth and perpetual smile? Check.

Ken and Barbie finally making a commitment

The wedding was held in Byron Bay, which is about a 45 minute drive from our place, across the New South Wales border. It was an intimate occasion with about 60 or so guests. I marvelled at the home catering and DIY-ness of the entire event. (At some point, the bride did a Moulin Rouge dance on stage in lingerie) I mean, the typical Malaysian Chinese wedding costs about MYR50,000 - 100,000 and takes a lifetime to pay off.

The community hall, with the vows recited under jacaranda trees

The bride's father made a really funny and lengthy speech about "being relieved of this burden"

Their friend did a crazy Bollywood number, even flinging a thong at the couple once. Speaking of which, I once won lacey underwear onstage in a night club. I won't disclose what I had to do to earn it. You are free to let your imagination run wild.

The parents of The Most Adorable Baby Ever, who even managed to twitch my non-existent maternal instincts. They wouldn't let me take her home though.

That was the first time I'd ever seen a bridesman (?). He actually teared up during the vows.

We slept overnight in the car as it was too late to drive home. This common local practice isn't sound as bad as it sounds. We were awoken a couple of times by cars driving up, probably to do the same. And in the morning, this guy came over to say hello.

Mmm, breakfast!

Then later when we drove out, we actually saw a wallaby by the road, nonchalantly licking its paws. I excitedly dug through my bag for the camera when X brilliantly tried to reverse the car to get me a "better angle" and scared the little guy off.

This isn't a wallaby, but I had to put up a picture of a marsupial anyway. Picture taken at an animal farm in Port Stephens in 2007.

Hello. Again.

Okay, I'm back. Looks like the new blog wasn't working out. My creative control was limited and the Google Ads littered indiscriminately in between the posts included those targeted for people with sperm issues. So I'm back here.

If you do happen to see my posts on another website, please let me know. No, I won't change the URL anymore.

Moved

I've just shifted to another domain. The old posts shall remain here as they are, but for updates, please go to janbanks.vitaeblog.com.

Curiouser and curiouser...

As you can see, my readership has somewhat spiked (i.e. sextupled in number of hits) in the last couple of days. At first I thought it must have been a fluke. Actually I still think it’s a fluke, albeit a very happy one.

The referrer’s analysis keeps leading me to the Google main page, so I have no idea where my traffic stems from. Can any of you kind readers just let me know how you stumbled upon my humble little (sub) domain?

I wonder if someone promoted this as a porn site. In which case, it’s not. Really.

Embracing nature

A canopy of trees in Byron Bay

Sunset leaving Kerrie's place

The falls at Springbrook on an impromptu drive

The view from our bedroom

A mishap at the beach across the road

The roach muncher in our backyard

The friendly neighbourhood spider in the laundry

Love is in the air... and etc clichés

Valentine's Day. The more logical half of my brain tells me the pretty pink and red themed cookies, teddies, heart-shaped chocolates and other tacky trinkets are just unnecessary means of emptying one's pockets. The other hemisphere demands for such very items to be presented as a symbol of undying devotion, now!

Fortunately, X knew logic never won a woman's heart.


I have a confession. I've never actually celebrated Valentine's before. Well, of course we've had the quintessential single-girls-being-tough-who-needs-love outing. And of course I've had nice boys take me out for dinner and maybe even get me a little chocolate. But never has any of my previous relationships coincided with the celebration.

Correction - never has any of my previous partners been physically in the same continent during the day.

So you can imagine, it was very nice indeed to actually be able to have a hand to hold for once. Yes, the restaurants were crowded and overpriced and yes, we had to park so far away I wound up walking around barefoot with my stilettos in my bag. And yes, I probably stepped on something gross along the way.

My overpriced King Prawn Salad. The portion was the size of X's fist (which isn't very big), but the avocados completely filled me up. Excellent flavour though.

X's overpriced Thai Beef Salad. It was okay, but the bean sprouts were a weird touch. If you're wondering if we're on diet, it's only so we had room for overpriced bruschetta before and gelati later.


We had a really nice day. But next year, we're doing it a day before to avoid the crowds.

The feminists will love this

From everyone's favourite online reference, Wikipedia:

"When scientists first started capturing ceratioid anglerfish, they noticed that all of the specimens were females. These individuals were a few inches in size and almost all of them had what appeared to be parasites attached to them. It turned out that these "parasites" were the remains of male ceratioids.

At birth, male ceratioids are already equipped with extremely well developed olfactory organs that detect scents in the water. When it is mature, the male's digestive system degenerates, making him incapable of feeding independently, which necessitates his quickly finding a female anglerfish to prevent his death. The sensitive olfactory organs help the male to detect the pheromones that signal the proximity of a female anglerfish. When he finds a female, he bites into her skin, and releases an enzyme that digests the skin of his mouth and her body, fusing the pair down to the blood-vessel level. The male then atrophies into nothing more than a pair of gonads, which releases sperm in response to hormones in the female's bloodstream indicating egg release. This extreme sexual dimorphism ensures that, when the female is ready to spawn, she has a mate immediately available."

Like, wow.

24

I recently turned 24. 24 sounds so... old. Like you'd be driving yourself around (check - though I need to be supervised), owning your own property (nope), married (does cohabitation count?) with a baby on the way (never!).

Normally, my birthdays tend to be drawn out, week-long affairs. I have different social groups, who don't necessarily get along, so it's usually celebrated over and over again with friends and family. I don't usually receive many presents, which is okay, because I think it's always the thought that counts and I'd rather spend time with people than receive items I usually don't need or want.

This year however, almost none of the people who make my birthday such a special affair are around. I didn't bother getting my hopes up. X is a very pragmatic person (read: not into lavish celebrations and tends to buy drills and car mats as presents if not stopped).

And in the end, it was okay. I received multiple pages of birthday messages on Facebook. I had my entire family text me. Pei arranged to have several of our friends to speak to me over the phone. Sooky gave me a half hour long pep talk on How to not feel like a failure for not having found gainful employment yet, which I desperately needed to hear. I was told I was missed several times. X took me out for Malaysian food (not my idea, his).

The next day, we went to Fortitude Valley, which is the Chinese central of Brisbane and met AG for a lunch of barbequed and roast pork. We wandered about watching some martial arts association perform so-called kung fu. One of the fatties actually kept banging into his colleagues. The neon orange "Shaolin" uniforms, the messy thrusted fists... it was such a degradation of Chinese culture. We then headed to the South Bank markets where I got a very cute starfish necklace from a very abrupt Chinese lady.

B woefully informed me on MSN he did remember my birthday (since we were 17, he's always remembered to call) and in fact got extra prepaid credit to do so, only to realise he didn't have my Australian number.

Then a couple of days later, TF rang up belatedly and took me out for lunch with her American friend, from whom I learnt that the National American Treasure is actually Taco Bell, nevermind it's Mexican.

(Left to right) AG, Mummy, Sooky, X, TF

It didn't turn out so bad after all.

25 things

Rules: Once you've been tagged, you are supposed to write a note with 25 random things, facts, habits, or goals about you. At the end, choose 25 people to be tagged. You have to tag the person who tagged you. If I tagged you, it's because I want to know more about you.

Jenny tagged me on Facebook. I'm free and a narcissist, so here goes!

1. I did not get married or even get sponsored for a visa/ green card.
2. I am not married at all, contrary to rumour-mongering reports.
3. I went to a nudist beach recently. It’s actually quite liberating.
4. I had a mole between my eyes removed because I had a date with a random international student I met online when I was 14. He turned out to be a bore.

5. I hated the mole on my right cheek with a vengeance and begged for its removal too. My beautician pacified me by saying Cindy Crawford had one too.
6. When in Malaysia, I used to get stalked by strange men for no apparent reason all the time. I’m now living with one of them.
7. I used to have a massive crush on Brian Molko.
8. I fell in love at 16 and it took me 4 years to recover.
9. I got a belly button ring at 15. My ears have been pierced 11 times. I was a very bored teenager.
10. I hate people who use their disabilities/ age as an excuse to be nasty and rude.
11. I find people who justify their circumstances through ethnic disadvantages extremely annoying. (Not applicable to people directly affected by war/ ethnic cleansing/ constitutional racism)
12. I never want children. I tried saving up money to tie my tubes when I was 15, but my mother convinced me the doctors wouldn’t do it. I just think I’m too selfish to be a good mum.
13. I dislike gossip and office politics. I have blocked and removed at least a dozen people from Facebook and MSN simply because they’re such nosey, vindictive little bitches.
14. Sometimes I wonder if moving to Australia is the biggest mistake ever.
15. I want to live in Europe but doubt I’ll be able to fit into the culture there.
16. I have a half sister from my father’s previous marriage. I’ve tried looking for her online, but even her alumni head can’t locate her. I also have a half brother.
17. I love horror movies and roller coasters but always close my eyes.
18. Whenever people throw rhetorical Christian queries at me, I always say, “Who am I to question my Maker?”
19. I am very physically uncoordinated and am a bad dancer and driver and am inclined to bump myself into inanimate objects. I generally have about 5 bruises at any one time.
20. When I was a kid, I suffered an asthma attack in a bouncy castle. I stopped breathing entire way to the Malacca Hospital.
21. “In The Sun” by Joseph Arthur makes me cry 9/10 times I hear it.
22. I am afraid of settling for the mediocre. I am afraid of suddenly waking up one day, realising I’m insert age and that I have nothing to show for my life.
23. When I was 7, a teacher told our class that with each lie you tell, a black spot appears on your heart. My lying skills have drastically deteriorated since then.
24. When we were younger and not very close, I punched my brother in the face while fighting over the remote. He told my parents he broke his own glasses. I have loved and respected him ever since.
25. I am regularly told I have thick hair, but harbour paranoia justified fear of a receding hairline, which seems to have already afflicted my brother and father.

I tag anyone who reads this blog. Leave your links in the comments!

Transvestite cakes

Seen in Fortitude Valley, where AG, X and I celebrated Chinese New Year over barbequed pork and rice.

I wonder what the connotations of eating the resultant confectionary are?

Speaking of awkward childhood memories

I think I was about 7 or 8 when this picture was taken. The swimsuit belonged to my cousin. Poor me, as the youngest then had a wardrobe full of hand me downs (yes, I started cross-dressing in my brother's shirts and shorts from a young age).

So this was the first time I'd gone to Sunway Lagoon. After this happy picture was taken in that fake surfing pool place, I'd climbed up one of the highest, steepiest, curliest slides determined to make a splash.

So picture scrawny little me, standing on the pinnacle, placing my bum on the slide and whoosh-!

I raised my hands in the air and released an obligatory scream of excitement. My voice however caught in my throat, as I suddenly noticed an obstruction in my way.

A fat blob boy had become lodged in the slide. Betrayed by his own mass, he'd resigned to being part of the experience.

I flailed helplessly and slammed full force into him. Unfortunately, my uncoordinated limbs had carefully arranged themselves to have him trapped between my legs.

I kicked at him hard, ignoring his squeals of pain and forcefully removed him (and myself) from our awkward pose.

I am still so traumatised.