When life gives you lemons

From my time working at print media, I've learnt that magazines work two months in advance. This means that for our October issue, we are already working on it in August. Some magazines can work up to three months in advance; I was only so lucky to work in one where I won’t have to project my ideas so far ahead in time.

Actually, I wish I could work on my life how I would work on a magazine: planning in advance. I’m not even planning for what I’m having for dinner tomorrow, let alone what I’ll be doing in two months time (I actually do know and I’m really excited about it, but that’s besides the point).

Some part of me believes that everything will fall into place just the way it’s supposed to no matter how hard I try to plan my future. But that other part of me is skeptical and I know better that things won’t just fall into my lap. So what do I do? Of course the wise answer is to plan regardless of how it will be like 5 years down the road. But if a different path is carved out for me then, I would have wasted years of planning.

My father never dreamed of sitting down at a fancy restaurant, having the best steak and wine dinner in the world (it really was) for my 19^th birthday. He came from a small village where everyone knew each other and where only two known people owned a car. Now, he lives in the city, after having travelled to almost every continent. He acquired a degree for teaching English but never taught a class in his life. Instead, he started up one of the country’s best advertising agencies back in his day.

Truth is, life is weird. You graduate high school and after, you’re going to earn a degree in accounting or law or whatever. But then you end taking what seems to be an endless gap year. I never thought I’d actually get a real definition of the phrase, “You’ll never know what life throws at you”, but now I have. And I still don’t know what else it’s going to throw at me. Maybe tomorrow… Maybe next year. I also don't know when it's going throw something at me. But when I finally get it, I will be prepared. 

Revelations

When I read quotes or interviews of celebrities or other credible people that says something along the lines of "just be yourself" or "don't care about what others think", I thought to myself, how hard could that possibly be? Like, really?

Maybe it's just the hint of clichéd arrangement of words or maybe it was my young arrogant self, but I've always thought I was myself for a very long time. I wasn't trying to be anyone else by changing my hair, clothes or personality. I owned my own self. Or at least I thought I had.

Wearing a cardigan over your spaghetti-strapped tank to please your aunts isn't doing justice to "being yourself". Nor is buying a Nintendo DS when all you really wanted was a PSP, but because all your friends had it, you should too. I realised all of this just a tad bit too late but it's better late than never.

The root of my problem is that I stand out a little too much. And I mean that in the least haughty way possible. I don't know whether it's because of my "bule" looks or the way I walk/dress/talk - but I can never walk down my own street (or anywhere for that matter) without being fully stared at.

I guess it kind of bugs me that I just can't be unnoticeable for one day. Because of this, I try to do everything I can in my power to be... Less noticeable. I always dress down, wear my hair like I don't care and just hunch whenever I feel like I'm taller than most.

Because of this I never wore the things I really wanted to wear. Or else I'd be gawked at.

Now those clichéd quotes were clichéd for a reason. Because they have never been truer (I should really fine myself for how insanely cheesy I sound but the truth's the truth!). Never did I think those words would mean anything more than Hilary Duff trying to sound noble.

So this is the part where you say "screw other people's opinions", because I am aware that maybe I'll never go unnoticed. Maybe I'll always get the head-to-toe glances from girls who aren't even my age. So I might as well stand out. Stand out as much as I possibly can. At least then I'll give them something actually worth staring at.


xo,

S

Hunger

Have you ever felt so hungry but you didn't eat in time to fulfill the hunger, so you're just not hungry anymore? This is probably the best and closest thing to describe my life right now. Straight after high school, I was hungry; I was ready to eat, I was ready to do my work experience and to prepare myself for university. But something came up so I was late for dinner and didn't end up eating anything because it's way past dinner time. I thought that maybe I could still eat, maybe I could just start university soon, but the want is no longer there.

I guess it's true when people say the longer you put it off, the more put off by it you'll become. Everything has its time and when its dragged out for long, it kind of just loses its pa-zam. Especially when everyone you know is out there living their uni lives and you're stuck at home writing in your blog. From where I went to school, it was expected of you to immediately start uni or college straight after high school graduation. A gap year is usually frowned upon and not highly recommended. So when I show up to retrieve my IB Diploma, back in the foyers of my high school mid-January, my teachers were a bit confused as to oh, I dunno, why I'm still here. "I'm just gonna really miss it here, Miss. I don't want to leave just yet," said no one. Ever. I guess now I realise why they never spoke highly of gap years: it's because your brain gets fried and you'll never want to continue education again. That's true, but mostly the former part of that reason. Well, a fried brain is a bit of a hyperbole but my point is still intact; I haven't done anything productive in the last month and a bit, that included any form of writing, which I'm supposed to love doing. And I have lost all motivation to start this new "job" I'm supposed to have next month. I think all of this is happening because I just really want to go to university. 

My friends are complaining about how long and boring their lectures are, how early they have to get up and all the tasks they have to complete. In all brutal honesty, I'd rather be doing that than making my Sims go to uni. It's even harder when I have a madre who keeps wanting what her friends' children has for me. "So and so's daughter/son got a scholarship to study in Tokyo. It irritates me how you can't get that?" I know my time will come eventually, I can't put off university for so long. One way or another, really. But like I said earlier, everything has its time. Maybe in a year or so, I'd rather be working because all my friends have earned their degrees. So me, just having gone through Freshers Week or O-Week wouldn't be much fun. However on the other side of the spectrum, everything has its time, and my time for uni will be later on. I guess that's the light at the end of the tunnel. That's the moral of the story, boys and girls.
Meh.

Leap of faith

I did the most unexpected thing yesterday: I saved a life! Out of all the infrequent morning walks I take, this happened. Not that I'm saying it in a bad way. In fact, I think it has made a pretty good start to the new year.

My mother decided to join me on yesterday's walk and in hindsight, she was a big help. We walked the usual route, and half way through, I heard what sounded like a cry for help. I had to search where the sound was coming from until I saw him peering out from a fence of what seemed to be a house/small office type lot. My eyes quickly scanned the situation he was in: shivering, panicking and alone with the exception of his sibling's corpse. He was squeezing through the gap to escape the pungent smell but even if he did succeed, a metre-tall drop to the sewer awaits him. If the fall won't kill him, the cold water will.

So I thought fast.

I quickly grabbed him in my hands and the old lady who lives across gave me a plastic bag to carry it home. "Carry it home", you say? Yes, I say. Because I saved a kitten.

I could not tell you how fast I ran my way back home with the abandoned kitty in my hands. The sound of it's sad meows chipped away bits of my heart and I thought, "I'm going to take good care of you." Now, I'm not the biggest feline expert but I am well aware that the kitten's mother could've been out looking for food. However, after seeing his sibling being swarmed by flies, it's hard to imagine that their mother being gone for only a few hours. It must've been days.

Isn't there something wrong with this story? There is something very wrong. Firstly, these kittens were inside someone's lot. Next to the distressed kitty, lies a plastic plate of milk. Clearly, someone within the the lot placed it there - the gaps of the fence were too small for an outsider to do it. It's likely that the kittens' mother gave birth to them there and left but the lot's owner was able to just ignore that? To the point where one of them died? 

Another weird thing I notice was the reaction of the old lady that lived across from the lot. She was walking back from getting groceries when she noticed my mum and I assessing the kitten's situation. She said that "there were five of them but three died within the last few days." Isn't that so strange? She clearly knew but has done nothing about it. This was what saddened me the most.

As I was running back home with the kitten in the bag, I heard things from "why are you carrying a dirty cat" to "that is so disgusting". I was clearly labeled as, what Indonesians would say, aneh, because I was saving a kitten. Because I was saving a life, I was classed as weird. I'm sure if it was a human in need of rescuing, it would be the opposite. Or not... The doubt I have scares me.

Is it because they are afraid of responsibility? Or some commitment/association issues? Over a cat? It makes me really sad. What struck me was that I started to imagine what the little kitten was going through: the mother's abandonment, death of sibling in front his eyes, hunger, the cold... And I couldn't let it stay there. Maybe that's what the other people didn't feel... Sympathy.

Once I brought it home, my domestic helper's 3 year-old son was excited about a new critter in the house. He wasn't scared nor was he disgusted - it was just another living and breathing thing... Like us. After my mum repeatedly said how the kitten had no mother and no milk, it shook something in him. All of a sudden he burst out crying and everyone rushed out thinking the kitten scratched him or something but really, he was just sympathizing for the kitten. The exact opposite of the people I encountered.

And this is a 3 year-old boy -  who can barely concise a proper sentence - feeling sad for the kitten. A boy who has hardly stepped out into the real world and with very little influence from other people, in fact. It just goes to show how much people can change you as you grow up. Mold you and shape you into society's "norms". It isn't bad but it sure isn't good, either.

I felt shunned from my own neighborhood but it's okay because I got something good out of it. I took the risk of taking him in and after only a day, Leap is looking much better.