sometimes,

i hate reminiscing through old photos because it makes me miss the moment so much. I miss it so much, it hurts.

I miss vail. I've been missing vail for almost a year. The people, the cold in my bones, the excitement, the travels, the colours, the smell of snow mingling with spring... gosh, i miss vail so so very much. I want to recreate my time there, Vail, Marriot, LA, Hollywood, San Fran, missed flights.. I want my (very) happy belly, the 24 hour sleep on my first day, the frugal buys, the warm baths...

Lucia, from Russia. my favourite girl and friend there

Breathtaking Grand Canyon

Amazing LED show above us, Las Vegas

Caeser's Palace. Las Vegas.

San Fran, my fav city

it was then we became close, it was then he was my guardian.

gosh i miss vail.
it was my adventure.

and Im seeking a new one.

sometimes, happy memories are not needed to be written and posted when you already have someone special who has shared, cherish, appreciate and remember the golden minutes with you :)

after 2 semester I can finally unleash the real Mei again!

and she's fly like a g6 yo

the worst part of going to a funeral is not the crying and sadness,
its going back to an empty home.

im liking this freedom but i hope mum and dad returns from Dubai soon.

R.I.P, uncle.

confessions of a hyopcrite.

I live in hypocrisy. I try not to, but its unavoidable when you live torn between the two repelling spectrums of "beauty".

I'm 20, the target of skinny bitch beauty ads. I'm a dancer, a definite target of flabs ridicule and weight watchers. Though the teasing of (barely there) muffin tops are usually in good fun, its hard not to be a little self-conscious. And, I live amongst girls (thankfully numbered) who are literrally skin and bones complaining bout their non-existent body fat, and bimbos who rejoice at losing 0.5kg after skipping one dinner. How the hell am I supposed to not feel fat when twigs whine about their "belly" and im chowing down on Carls Junior and McFlurrys! I admit, shamefully, then I could lose a few pounds. Though im not crazy obsssesed like them girls on E! , I'm obssessed enough sigh everytime i look down at my pudgy belly.

But then again, I don't think I'm fat. I know I'm thin enough to not be fat, and I'm fat enough to not look aneroxic. Inspiring lecturers and interesting reads have taught me to not sucummb to unrealistic beauty ads, to love my own unique shape, to understand that beauty is 3 dimensional, not one. So I cringe in dissapointment when I see a cute, rounded 10-year-old being subjected to fat-teasings by her dance teachers, telling her to lose weight to look pretty. So i reject all notion of starving to diet, I reject the word diet, and I beat myself up for wanting to diet and feeling fat.

But then again, they tell me that I am getting fat.

oh the confusion and dilemma!!

Ironically, although the costume fitting talks of sucking in belly fat and jiggly butts amongst my dancer friends pops up more often than with my daily peers, these dancers eat with more gusto that anyone i know, while my girl-friends are the ones that cringe at the sight of a popcorn.

I would be the one saying fuck it and stuff my mouth with a whole bagfull of caremel coated popcorn goodness and feeling guiltly after.

Its a confusing world to live in to be a girl.

the tiniest package

the most powerful message comes in the simplest and shortest form.
of course, the way you deliver it, your emotions, soul, passion, matters to.
Like the most elegant wedding ring, sleek and thin, hid in a tiny box big enough to just fit into the palm of a hand, wrapped with the sweetest, yet most mysterious silk ribbon.

This, is the wedding ring of all songs.
Serenade it with soul,
Ain't No Sunshine, by Bill Withers.

Ain't no sunshine when she's gone.
It's not warm when she's away.
Ain't no sunshine when she's gone
And she's always gone too long anytime she goes away.

Wonder this time where she's gone,
Wonder if she's gone to stay
Ain't no sunshine when she's gone
And this house just ain't no home anytime she goes away.

And I know, I know, I know, I know, I know,
I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know,
I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know,
I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know, I know

Hey, I ought to leave the young thing alone,
But ain't no sunshine when she's gone, only darkness everyday.
Ain't no sunshine when she's gone,
And this house just ain't no home anytime she goes away.

Anytime she goes away.
Anytime she goes away.
Anytime she goes away.
Anytime she goes away.

Strippers have feelings too

Stripping in public comes with the territory of being a dancer. Thus, us female dancers often do the best we can to cover up in between costume changes- tubes, scarfs to wrap around, skirts, and some manouevers, tips and tricks that is too complicated to describe here.

Most often, we share a changing room with the male dancers but changing in front of them is okay- their always gay. if they are not, they're used to it and would do the polite gesture of looking away when we change.

If we're really lucky to be performing in a big arena, the girls would have a seperate changing room from the guys, which is a very rare but nice privilege.

But sometimes, our changing room is a dingy hallway backstage seperated from the kitchen by a divider that hardly shields us from the prying and demeaning eye of kitchen workers. It's like these people have never seen people change and have no decency to at least pretend that they are not looking. Sometimes, they stare at us assuming that we can't see them. When we look back at them in the eye giving them the sting, then they look away. We're dancers, not the blind, you ass. We do the best we can to cover up, but sometimes, sometimes, during dance shows where we have literally 1minute to change into different costumes, we have no time to cover up and just strip hoping that no one is looking. God knows which sad little peeping tom is peeping. They should really get laid, or watch more porn. And go learn some respect.

And then, there are the hotel workers that barges into our changing room without knocking. So we would be in our bras and panty hose shocked, and pissed. "Sorry" they say insincerely and slowly close the door and walk away. DONT YOU KNOW HOW TO KNOCK YOU DIMWIT!? Thank God this doesn't happen too often.

I've learnt to ignore and live in denial about the fact that I might have been visually violated for the longest time. But the last show I had in Sunway Lagoon 2 nights ago went over the top. Seriously, if you have enough money to rent the ENTIRE Sunway Lagoon for your company dinner, you should be able to provide at least one small tent for the dancers to change and rest. Giving us two humongous tables, no chairs, and asking us to change in the wet and dirty toilet, is just ridiculous. PLUS, you requested for back-to-back numbers. HOW THE HELL ARE WE SUPPOSED CHANGE TO A DIFFERENT SET OF COSTUME IN TIME FOR YOU WHEN WE HAVE TO RUN ALL THE WAY TO THE TOILET AND AVOID THE WET AND DIRT? So, that night, the only thing shielding us from demeaning stares and pervy eyes was a wall, and the skirting of a table. GAAAAHHHH on the bright side, there weren't that many pairs of eyes around. I hope.

If that wasn't bad enough, when we were in our micro minis and halter tops waiting for our number, this guy, that was twice my age, with glasses and a pervy condescending hamsap pepe face had to go"yeah babeh" with a tone that was demeaning-condescending-perverted-disrespectful-shameful-and-whatever-else-adjective-that-the-thesaures-can-translate. Fucking idot just because that wasn't demeaning enough he had to say it twice until one of us notices him. GAAAHHHHH do you know how demeaning that felt? how degrading, belittleing that was. It's the feeling that made feminists such man-haters but you probably won't understand if you're a man. I had half the mind to hire a 50-year-old uncle with gold hair, white singlet, jeans and slippers and a Mr.Potato moustache have have him go "yeah babeh~"at that douche's sister/daughter/wife so he know's how much of a douchebag he is. Now all I need to know where he lives. It should be too hard, I remember his degrading stare. GAAAAH!!

If it wasn't my passion for dancing, I wouldn't be in this business. Dressing up in dresses short enough to show my bum with every step I take does sometime feels like I am objectified. But Im willing to look aside because I love dancing and performing, and it's done in good taste.. and it's not all that bad all the time, we have very nice audience, who gives us a thumbs up and compliments us on our dance even though sometimes we sucked.

Some people just need to learn respect, thats all.
Others, need to watch more porn and get laid so they don't go stupid when they see us change.
or at least go to the beach more often, people prance around in their bikinis and change in public at beaches all the time, right!?

I tried

hmm blog. what to say, what to write.

If i am not well-known for being from Klang, I'm well know for taking the train, faithfully. I read the paper a coupla months back and came across this article about Penang getting new commuters. I was in pointing it out in jealous awe, 'woah! damn nice la penang got new trains, looks damn canggih somemore!". Brian looked at me, laughed and commented that I am the only person who would give such a envy reaction to KTMs. In fact, I'd be the only one who gives a damn.

For the past few days, all my dates with Mr. Choo Choo Train was delayed. 10 minutes. 30 minutes. 40 minutes. 1 hour. I see 2, 3 trains passed by at the opposite tracks, but there was no sign of mine. I rushed in the early morning to catch the 7.05 train but end up waiting for 30 mins and was late for class. multiple times. I waited an hour for a supposedly empty 3.20 train just to be greeted by a sardine-can an hour later. Add that to a whole day of class and frustrations at a father who can never come on time. Multiply it by one week plus a history of patient waiting.

My patience went chasing after the missing KTM and that was it. Fuck you train I give up. Holding in frustrated tears. I've wasted half my life taken advantage by you. Here on end I'm driving., Sorry Mother Nature.

One thing I can't comprehend is this: why, did you have to extend your routes all the way to Batu Caves when you already have problems sending us to Sentul on time? Now you're time management is worst then ever, and the people, we're more disappointed than ever. Go learn from your brother LRT.

you're such an embarrassment to the country. Always the same excuse: rosak rosak rosak. Maybe I'll come visit you again when your new siblings come from China. End of next year eh? We'll see, you've never been really good at keeping your promises.