Monday, July 30, 2007

Interfacial Marriage

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Superficial, yes. Funny, very.


Thursday, Apr. 26, 2007

When Your Spouse is Hotter than You

Marrying outside your religion is no big deal anymore. Neither is marrying someone of a completely different generation. And now that something like 4% of all marriages are interracial, not even your grandparents will get lathered up if you marry someone of another color. But as the old prohibitions fall away, a new one is rising to take their place. It's a discrimination that's widespread but largely unspoken, causing pain and stress to the affected couples, who often find it hard to talk about, even to each other. I'm talking, of course, about marrying outside your looks. Marrying a few degrees up or down the hotness scale. Refusing to stay within your cute-gory.

I've been in a mixed marriage for a decade and a half now and gotten used to the stares and nudges. I've even developed a couple of airy responses to the inevitable comments that arise from co-workers and friends along the lines of "Um, your husband is so hot..." Sometimes I go with "Oh, that's not my husband--that's my twin brother," and other times a dismissive "Yeah, but back in Australia I'm considered a great beauty. It's Nicole Kidman who's the hag." Each time, it hurts just a little less.

Like so many in my situation, I didn't mean to intermarry. It wasn't that I had ideas above my station; it was just that I was young and naive enough to think love would conquer all. Also, to be perfectly frank, I didn't think he was that hot. That's what makes this type of discrimination particularly insidious: it's not clear that couples have transgressed against hotness-equality laws until they're already married. Nobody minds if you date outside your tribe, and people applaud an ambitious play for the hubba-hubba human across the room, but--as my brothers and sisters in the gay community have found--there's a world of difference between what people will accept in the innocent suburbs of hooking up and the judgmental metropolis of marriage.

As in so many other areas of discrimination, women face double jeopardy. Guys who marry a few rungs up the looks ladder are rock stars or rich or have, I don't know, beautiful penmanship. Women who marry up, well, they're deluded. Their husbands must be gay or have really bad bacne to even look at them. And the standards are ridiculous. Deborra-Lee Furness is a charming, spirited, good-looking woman who happens to be married to Hugh Jackman, a freak of nature. Hence rumors circulate that Jackman is gay. Had there been an Internet in times gone by, they probably would have swirled around Queen Victoria's and Eleanor Roosevelt's husbands as well.

Shockingly few peer-reviewed studies have been done on our type of union. We don't yet have our own box to check on the Census, even though we've been around for years. I'm actually the product of a mixed marriage. My father has an unlined face and thick, curly salt-and-pepper hair in his 70s. My mother--well, let's just say that when she comes to visit, the kids hide the broomstick and the big cooking pot. She tells folks my dad married her for her legs and her fortune. Coincidentally, these are the only two of her attributes she did not pass along to me.

If you suspect that you might be in an interfacial marriage, don't be ashamed. Acceptance is the first step to recovery. Ask yourself these questions: Do you and your spouse disagree on how many mirrors should be in the home, what angle they're placed at and how well they're lit? Do you find yourself taking all the photographs at family gatherings and "forgetting" how to use the self-timer? If your spouse buys you some beauty products, do you take it as a kind of warning? Do you ever encourage your spouse to wear those pants that make him or her look beamy?

These are all challenges that scummy-yummy couples must deal with to survive. And that's before you get to the big questions: Do you raise the children as attractive or hideous? Or try to find a middle ground--you know, sorta cute? Do you celebrate beautiful-people holidays (Valentine's Day, Mardi Gras) or Oktoberfest? Very few mismatched pairs can work through these issues on their own.

What they--who am I kidding, we--desperately need is a celebrity spokescouple, a famous mixed-assortment pair willing to step into the limelight and explain the challenges specific to this unequal yoking. Maybe then people would have a little compassion for those of us who, through no fault of our own, have to wake up every single day to a drop-dead gorgeous human being on the other pillow, for the love of mercy! Donald and Melania Trump, are you reading this? Ric Ocasek and Paulina Porizkova? Sylvester Stallone and Jennifer Flavin? Larry King and whomever you're married to now? Your people need you!

First question: How did you score such a hottie?

Monday, July 23, 2007


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All pictures from my phone camera, seeing as my cam is unfortunately deceased.
Good enough for me anyway, cos i'm waiting on the pictures from everyone else.
Of course, since i took these pictures, i'm not in most of them.

And that may be a good thing, because you all may call me Miss Brown now.
I was really sunburnt by the third day. So the pictures after the third day must have been really gross.

The first day: Jann, Me, Adrian and JJ exploring the beach in front of the resort we stayed in. The sun sets behind us so this picture happened.
See? This is where it sets. That's the resort in the background.

The second day: The sun rising at 7 am. This is the view from my apartment's balcony.
My treasure hunt team members, minus the driver who was busy. We won second place!
During the treasure hunt, we had to go to different places, and one of them was Teluk Chempedak, featured in the picture below. Gorgeous beach!
We had to leave to get our results back to the organizers. After we submitted everything, we came back to the beach again.
Jann, Me and Adrian in the sun, sand and sea.Daniel and bunch came to join in after abit.
I thought this was a nice shot of the two of them. We all went rock climbing to the top of the cliffs. This was half way through.
Monkeys climbing up the rock.I guess thats it lah. Didn't get to take much on the third day, cos we were all gonna get wet and we put our cameras and stuff away in a safe dry spot. Pretty interesting activities and discussions, but i'm too lazy to write anything down now. I'm so tired and burnt, i'm gonna go back to bed. Have fun, all you working studying people.

Wednesday, July 18, 2007


Here are some pics from a trip to Melaka with Mel, Josh and Sharon. Apologies for the sucky quality, these are the pics from my phone. Not like i'm gonna wait for everyone else's photos.

At the not so nice chicken rice ball place. Apparently the balls were too intact, no dirty joke here.
This is the shop at Jonker Street. What is Jonker anyway? Does anybody know?

Melissa's long awaited chendol. So happy she had to take a picture of the perfect thing before she eats it. Not like i didn't take pictures of my chendol also but well, we're not putting that one up here as well.

You can tell Joshua's really enjoying his chendol. Look at that face.
Ok stop, better not look anymore now. Nanti mata sepet.

Figure it out.

I had to have a picture of myself of course and since i can't just perasaan and take a pic of my face just like that i thought i'd stick myself in more subtly. Like here. But i guess subtle is cancelled out when i tell you about it right? Hahaha.

And this... is for being a lazy navigator. Gahaha, you're lucky i didn't put up the one where your mouth was open and you were drooling away.

Hahah Josh, we all love you! Heee...
Thank you everyone, i had a very nice time.
I really really enjoyed stuffing my face thoroughly.
And it wouldn't have been the same if you guys weren't around.
By the way, today my kaki really kaku already.
So next time, i'll just leave the driving to the men.
I like being driven around, no women's equality problems here.

Tuesday, July 17, 2007

Silly Fillers

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Hahah I'd like to believe i am the E,R,I,H,O and L in this silly thing.

E : Damn good kisser.

R : You like people.
I : You Are Great in bed.
N : You like to drink.

C : You are really silly.
H : You have a very good personality and looks.
O : awesome kisser.
N : You like to drink.
G : You never let people tell you what to do.

E : Damn good kisser.
E : Damn good kisser.

L : Everyone loves you.
I : You Are Great in bed.
N : You like to drink.


A : You Like To Drink.
B : You like people.
C : You are really silly.
D : You like to drink.
E : Damn good kisser.
F : You are dead sexy.
G : You never let people tell you what to do.
H : You have a very good personality and looks.
I : You Are Great in bed.
J : People Adore you.
K : You're wild and crazy.
L : Everyone loves you.
M : best kisser ever.
N : You like to drink.
O : awesome kisser.
P : You are popular with all types of people.
Q : You are a hypocrite.
R : You like people.
S : Easy to fall in love with.
T : You're loyal to those who love you.
U : You really like to chill.
V : You are not judgemental.
W : You are very broad minded.
X : You never let people tell you what to do.
Y : Best g/f b/f anyone could ever ask for.
Z : Always ready

Friday, July 13, 2007

Ugly shell with testimony attached

4 long bitchy posts about my ugly skin, my ugliness and crappy self.
20 lost pounds.
1 severely damaged self esteem.
0 contenders.


It's been bad lah, i really have to admit.
I put on a mask to say i'm okay, it's just something God gave to test me, it'll go away.
I put on another to say hey, i'm fine with it. Don't pity me.
I put on another saying Don't bug me about it. I don't want you to see.
I tell myself ergh, how could anyone love this?
How could anyone see this and not feel disgusted?
I felt like a leper, *less severe but still as ugly*
I lost the will to love this body, this ugly THING.
I lost the want to take care of this ugly shell.
So i drop to a meal a day.


I pushed a lot of people away because of this.
Some people don't even know that i suffered so much emotionally, because i made a decision to close it up inside and hide it, thinking that maybe if i could hide it away, it would eventually go away too.
I suffered so much cos i tortured myself with thoughts of loneliness, doubts and insecurity.
I'll just cry myself to sleep for weeks and nobody would notice.
Cos i'd just hide it under my pillow and nobody would know.
Once or twice, someone saw but i pushed them away too.


I ask God, "I don't feel like i'm going anywhere. I hate myself, i hate this body. Am i still your work in progress?"

No answer.

Wrong question.

I felt led to ask another question, "What do YOU see? Show me what You see. I want to see what You see."

Right question.

Creation : Carefully shaped masterpiece.

"Carefully shaped?," i think,
"Even with this ugly skin and all the crappiness?
You actually MADE me that way? WHY?"

"I created you this way so that you can see what's inside, the beauty inside and the importance of it."


It's hard to see, but i'm learning.
It's hard to do, but i'm learning how to be honest and trust people and throw away the masks.
It's hard to believe, but i do.
It's hard to live out, but it's worth it.

You know if i'd never had this, i would have never gotten here.
I would have never cared about anything more than guys, my looks and material things.
So i thank God for this.
I'm purposely made like this.
And i'd rather be an ugly shell with a testimony attached than a bimbo airhead who cares only for the outer beauty and is blind to the importance of beauty inside.

Wednesday, July 11, 2007


Lots of halfwritten posts, that can't be put up here.
It's too public.
It sucks you know. This blog is getting to be soooo fake.
Not that the stuff i do post up isn't real.
But it's only barely scratching the surface of me.
I can't post up things i really feel, cos *oooh* it might offend people.
I can't post up angry posts, cos *oooh* Christians can't be angry like that.
I can't post up things that i really want to post up, controversial things, things about people that people need to know, because *ooohh* i might get flamed.
This blog has become an announcement post.

All those halfwritten posts...they're going somewhere of course.
Somewhere which needs a password to get in.
And there all my heartfelt anger, happiness, all the straight from the heart stuff lie, dormant.
In wait for its only reader, me.

Monday, July 09, 2007

Its the last half of the year already...

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and you know what that means?

Camps galore!
Hahaha i love camps. Going away for abit, refresh and regenerate.
Got about three camps lined up and several potential holidays *heee, i grin with delight*

Bootcamp's coming 'round again and remembering the last disaster i cringe and feel like hiding under a tempurung. Good that there's a more level headed leader this year. And i've been given a choice of responsibility, but i'm worried. I don't want things to be a catastrophe like before, although i know now why things went so wrong. I don't wanna get ahead of myself and be proud thinking that now i know, it should all turn out fine. That's what got me into trouble in the first place.

Pride comes before a fall, thats for sure. You think you've grown up, you think you've changed and you think you're gonna do better this time. You're confident that you're stronger this time and you're not gonna let anything get you down or get in your way.

That... is building yourself up for a fall. A huge one, no less.

The best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry.

But God's plans always go alright.

Friday, July 06, 2007

Call me names

I don't get why people who don't have first names give themselves such obvious-that-i-put-it-on-myself-and-it's-not-in-my-IC kinda names. Lost me? Let me demonstrate: Let's say my name is Chong Mei Lee or something to that effect. I'm Chinese, obviously feel like i need to compensate somehow cos everyone else has a cool first name and i don't. So i go and pick the worst name i could possibly choose, that makes it so obvious that my parents would have never thought of this name while naming me which in turn makes it more obvious that i have some insecurity with regards to my chinese name, something like Jessica, Christy or Vanessa. I mean, bleurgh. Solution: just be proud of your chinese name.

I mean, totally cool names come about with creative parents. That creativity is not limited to English first names only. I mean, my sister's name is Michelle but everyone calls her May, her Chinese name, also cos she's the youngest. I've an uncle who named his daughters Ginia and Zephenia *something like that, not too sure of the spelling*. Nobody else, maybe one or two in the far lands of whatever, would have that name and you can be certain that they didn't name themselves, cos nobody would name themselves that. Names of that level of creativity would only come from loving parents *cheeky grin*.

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet."

--From Romeo and Juliet (II, ii, 1-2)

My parents were somewhat creative. My mum studied in Wales and tried to push on me some Welsh names, like Rhiannon, which means great queen. HOooooo boy. My primary school teachers had difficulties pronouncing Erin right, do you THINK they would get Rhiannon right? Knowing their skills at deciphering names (or lack of), they'd probably end up calling me a rhino. My mum also favored the name Myfanwy, which means my woman (also Welsh). Its pronounced Mih-VAHN-wee. The single "f" in Welsh is supposed to be pronounced as an English "v". Can you imagine? My little irritating classmates would have had a field day with that one.

My dad, haha always reminds me that he's the logical one behind the selection of my name, and they finally settled on Erin. Even that one had varied incorrect pronunciations, like ee-rin, eh-rin, i-reen, and the more evil yoo-reen. Developed from Eireann/Eirinn, it's the native name of Ireland.

I was never satisfied with it, my sister had a whole song with her name in it by the Beatles, Michelle. It was not based on any particular woman. They chose the name because it sounded good. See.

Until i realised that when i line up for things, especially in class where they go in order alphabetically, i have the advantage of seeing what the kids in front of me do first and have the luxury of not having to wait long before its my turn AND not having to be the last to go home. Even if the teacher decides to mix it up and start from Z-A, i'm still pretty safe.

I appreciate my name, and so should you.



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I'm not available. Not to anybody.
I'm my own.
Go away all of you.
I don't want anybody near me now.
Not friends, not foe, not anybody.
I just want to be alone.
And i wish you all would leave me alone.

Cos Friends, you just make me feel worse.
At least my enemies are trying real hard and i expect it from them.

Et tu, Brute?

Thursday, July 05, 2007

I look like WHAT?

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Oh so you think i look like a boy, do you?

Muahaha... YOU can keep your opinions to yourself.

Cos hair, will grow. But YOUR FACE, is gonna stay the same.
Especially since you can't afford plastic surgery.

Wednesday, July 04, 2007

Drama mamas

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No no drama
No no no no drama

Let’s not kill the karma
Let’s not start a fight
It’s not worth the drama
For a beautiful liar
Can’t we laugh about it
It’s not worth our time
We can live without ‘em
Just a beautiful liar


I hate drama. Some of you might think i'm a real drama mama but i'm not. The last thing i want is any sort of drama. I'd most prefer it if things went my way without trouble. Oh well, such is life.

Not only that, i guess because i'm a supposed drama mama i guess i attract other dramatic people. Not all bad, but not all good.

I'm tired, people!

No more drama for me. Thank you all very much.
Don't wanna hear it, don't wanna see it, don't wanna do it, don't wanna live it.


Now that the ranting is over.

I've been viewing several videos of the time where a dance group from Norway called FLAME came down to Malaysia and went to several churches to share some dance skills. Three of them came to our church and we had a good time.

The thing is...
Do you know how the participants of American Idol are so oblivious to their talents (lack of, more like) and they're adamant that they're so damn good and that American Idol would regret letting them go.

I digress.
Back to "the thing is..."
We are the same.

Well we used to be so freaking convinced that we were the shit. Well i was anyway. And don't lie, the rest of you thought so too. And i look back now and i laugh. Cos really. We were blind. Totally blind. And it really isn't a laughing matter, cos if i look back now and laugh, can you imagine WHO ELSE was laughing at us back then? Gaha don't delude yourself people. Cos i did and it doesn't do much for my ego to consider how amusing we must have been to others.

Lesson to learn : Do not assume or imagine things about yourself and maybe...get some truthful friends.