Major Fail

So the phone call never came. I received my fifth, and final, ding.

I celebrated this momentous occasion with leftover cake from yesterday's office party. As I munched away in the gray monotony of the pantry, I pondered the confection at the end of my fork-- cold, hard with an artificial sweetness.

Something like the person I am these days.

I wish I could blame someone. I wish I could find an somewhere to howl my bitterness at the opportunities denied, at the envy I feel for others who lead semi-charmed lives. I wish for the lack of ambition, to stop setting the bar so high that all I can do is miss my mark. I wish I could get my $2K and nine months back. I wish I could leave all behind and hit the road.

But most of all, I wish I can leave the professional cesspool that I am in.

In the mean time, I think I'll go run ten miles and climb a mountain. FML.

Monthly episodes

Wow. One post a month. Looks like I am not going down the path of celebrity blogger-dom.

Buenos Aires was superb fun, although I did not end up chilling at a cafe with a good read for several good (and not-so-good, bordering on lame) reasons. One, there was wa-ay too much to see and do! Second, Sabs asked me to smuggle in half a year's supply of tampons-- apparently those nifty bloodsuckers are considered a rarity down south. I ended up leaving my novels at home thanks to the 80 tampons that claimed prime luggage estate. Tampon moguls take note, there's an untapped market out there for ya.

I love the experience of backpacking solo-- meeting new people, trotting at my own pace, waking up in the mornings and wondering where I will be in the next hour. I like having few material possessions, of being able to simply grab all my stuff, shove 'em into my busuk bag and hit the road within five minutes.

Funnily, the best part about traveling is not about the things I saw or did, but the experience of coming home refreshed and seeing the usual in a new light.

More than ever, this trip made me rediscover how much I enjoy traveling on my own terms, and how much I can learn about others and myself at the same time. Admittedly, I am squeamish about the idea of spending money, but to think about it, would there ever be another time when I am at the peak of my health, when I have relatively few work/family obligations, and when I can actually afford to go places that I want to go?

So where to next? I'm aiming for the Inca Trail and Macchu Picchu this November. A work trip to the UK in the fall might open up some ideas. A friend is talking about Kilmanjaro next year.

Anyway, back to reality. The bschool sage continues-- I interviewed with Stanford last Monday and the decision will be announced in a couple of days. Aduhai, I am trying my darned best to block all thoughts of that one life-changing phone call.

Failing which, of course, I will proceed to hit the road in no time.

Quickies

Got dinged by all the grad schools I applied to in January. FML.

Submitted last-ditch R3 application to Stanford. Not expecting to hear from them.

Finally learning to take life a day at a time.

Took a look at the sad state of my bank account, thought "aiya I only live once" before forking out the cash for round trip tickets to Buenos Aires.

Dusted off my Spanish textbooks and looking forward to backpacking solo.

Yale has a gorgeous campus except for the fake Tuscan village-- what were they thinking?

New Haven has ugly buildings and good food.

I wish I had mentors as a college freshman.

My toe might be broken, but I couldn't care less and I'm running and kicking punching bags like nobody's business just because I can.

A young man asked me why women play hard to get. I told him to enjoy the pleasure of the chase-- after all, it's part of human nature to appreciate hard-earned prizes ;).

I wish people will never lose their sense of idealism, and understand that it's possible be both pragmatic and imaginative at the same time.

Sights, Sounds and Thoughts

Thanks to my annual cold, I've been muddling through the week with my senses clogged and mind muddied.

I do get the occasional moment of clarity though. The good thing about colds is that I appreciate these moments a little more than usual.

Some sights and sounds from today.

Sun streaming on a wall of books. Little circles of sun skirt around the pine floorboards.

Steaming cup of cappuccino. The guy behind the counter is a fashion designer. What do you make? "Avant-garde dresses", he says.

A woman's face, separated by a wall of glass, barely a foot away from me. Long, dark hair, and is that a hint of a smile I see through the glass fog.

Two ginger cookies nestled in a crisp wax wrapper. Little sugar crystals on the surface beckon happily.

Sounds of samba and sharp notes of acrylic float from the studio next door as I type this.

I wish I had a camera, if only to record these moments.

Maybe I will. I toy with the idea of going to Buenos Aires, just me, my camera and the thought of living for the present.

Great Expectations Redux

This fight is getting personal.

I've been in an incredibly nasty mood for the past few days due to an escalation of job burnout and the realization that I won't be going to grad school after all. Things wouldn't have been so bad, if not for the economy, if not for the increasingly toxic work environment, if I did not start burning out at work a year ago and if I did not invest six painful months in the school application process.

Frankly speaking, I don't care about money or titles. I'm a cause-driven person--all I ask for is the opportunity to improve myself professionally so that I will be in a better position to help others. It's the reason for doing what I do.

So aduhai alamak with my organization's ethics going in a southerly direction, I'm at my wit's end. I'm reduced to spiking my morning coffee with a shot of centanario tequila to make the day chug by. I'm snapping at colleagues and friends like nobody's business. Plus I'm ripping my nails and eating more crap at work then ever.

Geithner, if you would only be so kind to give me a bailout plan of my own, I promise to love you long, long time.

But anyway, since Mr Geithner probably has other concerns of his own, I have came out with my own bailout package.

Until May, I promise to:
- Chill out, compartamentalize, take long walks in between work hours, anything to remind myself that my job comes with a visa and salary. Anything!!
- Stop eating crap at work in lieu of a good dinner-- Scarpetta, here I come!
- Give the tequila bottle away. Replace with wine at dinner. Mmm.
- Continue preparing for the slim chance of a grad school interview. As demotivated as I feel right now, I will not, must not, give up

Come May, if shit hits the fan, I will start thinking about my options beyond the US. On my list is the long awaited trek across Latin America or the land route from Europe back to Malaysia. After that, I will work or volunteer with an organization in a developing country that I have never been to before-- I have been dying to do that since my 2004 stint in India. In one year's time, I'll head back to Malaysia-- perhaps I will work with one of the budding social enterprise companies or start a new effort.

But in the mean time, I'd like to talk my favorite things.

One: Fucking Awesome Food (FAF)

Pictures say it all. Little else pisses me off than bad food, nothing delights me more than FAF with equally awesome friends.

And oh, there's no bigger pleasure than waking up late on a gorgeous spring Sunday morning, in anticipation of a long brunch with perfectly poached eggs, freshly brewed coffee and all your friends in various stages of being hung-over after last night's debauchery.

Sheer, absolute happiness occurs when Mr. Choo is there to pick food off my plate and scarf down that juicy piece of hanger steak that I had been saving for last.

Two: Karate

I know that out of the 3 readers who regularly visit this blog, one of you must be sniggering like nobody's business. Jangan ketawa okay, otherwise I'll tell the guy with the red kapchai to join your mamak sessions.

Back in high school, I was (and probably still am) one of the most cacat-ed karatekas. My horse stance looked like a pyramid stance, I was the champion backpedaler during sparring sessions and my creativity at making up new kata movements was unsurpassable.

Taking up karate again in New York turned out to be one of the best investments ever. I might still do a pyramid stance these days, but those classes have helped me vent out my frustration and refocus during the dark days.

And at the end, when my knuckles are bleeding and I can barely scoot down the stairs, it feels good to know that I have pushed myself for one more day.

I can't wait for spring time, when I can start my morning runs again with karate classes at night. My knees are going to scream, but the sad0-machoist in me is rubbing her hands in glee.

Aight...onward and forward!

Great Expectations

I'm mightily disappointed today.

HBS has just delivered its Round 2 interview invites. Columbia and Yale have been sending invites since January. My mailbox is woefully empty.

With the realization that my best is just not good enough, I am now a step closer to a permanent address in the cesspool of mediocrity. After three years of utter professional frustration, I am burning out. When do I call it a day? Where do I go from here? Should I leave the US?

I don't know.

Memory Lane

This was taken wa-a-ay back then.

I've totally forgotten about this photo, until Yi Xing posted it on Facebook. Who knew Facebook, in addition to its networking purposes, could qualify as a harbinger of long-lost memories?

My first winter break in the States, I decided to spend it with the Hwa cousins in on a trip to New York. After all those years of watching Dunhill Double ads on RTM, the ones with the glittery skylines and grinning yuppies strolling down Wall Street, I was pysched about seeing this lauded city of plenty in real life.

Aw shucks, how little I knew then.

Anyway, so here we are. Four Hwa cousins and me. Yi Jien managed to harangue some relatives into letting us bunk into their apartments, where we repaid their kindness by stinking up the house with homemade bak gua and burnt egg tarts. We visited Rockefeller Center, gaped at the high ceilings of Grand Central, ate ice cream at Battery Park. We wandered the streets of Chinatown in subzero temperatures, going crazy over little treats from the motherland and seeking $5 haircuts in illegal gambling parlours.

Yixing seemed devastated when she emerged with a haircut that made her look like a boy, but ah, I doubt if she won't mind having the same haircut today.

Fast forward to six years later.

Guy seated second from right, Jerng, graduated as a philosophy major and returned home to work in finance and social enterprise. He now bartends at Changkat Bukit Bintang. During the long , brutal winter nights, I used to swing by his room for edibles and conversation. We seldom talk now.

Girl in the center, Shi-Hsia, is doing a masters in biomedical sciences in Wisconsin. I read about her life, research, political musings and adventures in body modification on Facebook.

Far right, Yi Xing, is on a Erasmus Mundus program, focusing on gender studies while cavorting around Europe. Two years after the picture above was taken, I left for a study abroad program. When I returned, I realized I had missed so many of the changes in her life, I couldn't go beyond the friendly cordiality that now define our friendship. We do emails and facebook now.

Far left, Yi Jien, Yi Xing's brother and cousin to the other two. My first year at Bates, Yi Jien taught me the ropes of adjusting at Bates. Showed me how to do laundry, how to pick courses, how to swing dance. I used to joke about how if he got married before I did, I would start panicking.

Anyway, he did exactly that. I sent him a congratulatory note and apologized for not being able to be at his wedding in Seremban.

After Bates, Yi Jien went on to pursue a masters in theology. Last year, he went for a solo hike in the rugged, aching mountains of Montana.

He never returned.

When I first saw this photograph, I had a good chuckle at the floppy hairstyles and the silliness of hungry Malaysian kids unleashed in the city. And when I think about where we are now and what became of the dreams behind the smiles in the picture, I am reminded of the amazing capacity of the human heart to laugh and weep at the same time.