Growing up. Crumbling down and Everything in Between. Part Two

At this age, I haven't really understood the concept of dating, relationships and what not. So how was I to know what one of my mum's first relationship other than with my dad was like. All I knew, was that I HATED him from the deepest pit in my lungs and I couldn't stand breathing the air in my house whenever he was around. He was apparently some captain of some weird knotted Ferry to Batam sort of thing. Oh well, I couldn't even care less. But, I remembered ever drawing a pile of Shit instead of his face in one of my tween-age diaries. (At that time, I did not know of Shitface, I just knew Shit and Face) Alast, I just carried on with my life, I actually forgot how long my mum lasted with that guy but apparently other fellow colleagues of his were interested in my mum too, so she had lots of "boyfriends" from that era. Whatever boyfriends meant to her.

And at the end of the day, my mum found out that her 27 yr old boyfriend was already engaged to a 26 yr old young lady and soon after they married, she got pregnant.

I suppose at that time, I was already pretty into the whole puppy love business that I could safely understand bits and pieces about how important having someone to love you and be loved is. I was also one of those hopeless romantic day dreamers that well, as people my age would now say, " Never Got Any".

During my early teen years, I had a few guys I got close to and may have had something special, but I never had a real real boyfriend. Since I spent most of my time online, most of them that I was close to were only a few hundred miles away in another swept of country I'd dream about going to someday. I can't say that anything has changed about that, since, well, I spent 90% of my time awake online, the other 10% are for my eating. showering and pooping.

(There was one though, one that really had a lasting impact on me, which I might tell you guys, one day.... one day when him and I are all blown over and forgotten.)

So anyway, I always did seek attention from the opposite gender, but my outgoing overly friendly ways always seem to, well, frighten them away! Either that, or they would think I'm into them or something. Now, one of the reasons I've come to realise that caused me to constantly seek attention from them was that my mother had always measured her worth to how many guys were after her at any point of her life. Only when I grew older that I've realised, that you know what? Forget the opposite gender, I'd like to be a lesbian.

(End of Part two)

p.s. no, I'm not lesbian. I just said that cos it deemed fitting. HAHAHAHAHAH. I'm perfectly straight TYVM.

Growing up. Crumbling down and Everything in Between. Part One

I promised myself that I'd never ever write one of those posts where people would definitely go "Danggg, this girl is such a teenager." but, hey, we all have those moments in our life where we really feel the need to just put our thoughts into less-than coherent sentences and less than lame emotional rants.

You could safely say that my life started when my parents divorced in 1999 some almost 11 years ago. Back then, I didn't think it would affect me at all because the change happened when I was still as I would consider, quite young. I was barely turning ten, my sister twelve and my brother six. I did not understand the implications of the divorce and I can never safely say I'd ever do. We just thought that, my dad would live in a separate house but we'd still get to see him every fortnight and since my mum told us that "Nothing would change", we all believed that nothing would.

But, the truth is that, they would never speak nicely to each other again, my father had to take drastic measures just to see us on weekdays, he was not even allowed to call us or have our home phone number and my life, from then on, would be perfectly, difficult. But, hey, who's life isn't difficult?

My mother had influenced us into thinking that divorce was a very good thing. That happiness only comes with divorce and that we shouldn't be afraid of it. I suppose in the most part my parents thought it was for the better and I respect that, but never can a broken marriage ever give the children the textbook happiness that was being taught in the classrooms and in fairytales. If it was taken wrongly, the children might have a perpetual sense of hopelessness that they themselves would ever end up as happy as those people in the textbook marriage. Sadly, I am on the brink of that deep deep ditch that I would never seem to get out of.

Before the divorce, I was as awkward as any growing little girl would be and I must say after it, nothing changed for the better. I was more awkward than a badly sewn hem and I remembered always trying to get the self-gratification of being "cool" and hanging in the "in" crowd in primary school. But, all my childhood friends know that my knee high white cotton socks with the waisted skirt that touched the bottom of my knees were never fashionable.

The direct year after the divorce, it had to be the worst school-going year of my life. I had a teacher who was racist, biased and down right cruel. I have nightmares about her barring me from my medical exams till this day and one day, I just wish, I had the chance to run her over with a giant public bus. She always looked down on us, minorities and never even spoken to us with a happy tone. Her rolling eyes that she tossed about in that empty sockets of hers when any of the minorities made a mistake or had forgotten their homework, I bet is still very much etched into the memories of everyone in my class. I remembered, how she laughed (and therefore, made everyone else in class join her) at me for not able to remember all seven ports of Singapore and writing down Loyang instead.

Now, how did a Primary 5 girl know about Loyang? It's hardly a place for a girl to know about ships being there and anyway, all her life she's been living in Bedok.

Welcome to the first of my mother's destructive relationships.

(End of Part One)

Kickboxing. My New Love. I can't stop thinking about it almost every moment of the day and I look forward to the heart pumping, muscle straining workout I get from the session.

I have always been eyeing taking it up ever since I got a small bite out of it back in Secondary School. At that time, it was more of the BodyCombat format than the real kickboxing thing. So, a few googles later, TNT Kickboxing was my choice. Located in the heart of Sri Hartamas, right next to Hartamas Sq. A lot of people SCREAM in agony of the distance needed to travel to this gym but for me, hell, it's worth it.

They offer trial lessons every Monday and Wednesday, and my tip is to bring lots of energy and about 100 or so bucks, depending on which package you'd like to sign up. Most, would sign up on the sport, no doubt. I know I did, but I made the mistake of not planning ahead and cashing out some money before I went. So I missed out on the adorable keychain offer.

The people there are all superb as well, with the exception of what I would refer to as Minah KLs and Typical Eurasian B******, the other people there are really willing to help you out in case of anything. So being a newbie, is so much more comfortable. The people you meet there also have this insane love for kickboxing and they could relate to me when I tell them that all I ever want to do at the end of the day is come and kickbox.

I see myself taking this up for at least a year! What is even more encouraging is that, almost everyone that goes there, has reported a lot of weight loss. whee~ That's never a bad thing. I can't wait for my next session tomorrow morning. Oh, My darling, how I wish I had more time for you.

Tumblr.

Nazurah now haz Tumblrs.

http://ilivemylifeloving.tumblr.com

I will neglecting you not, blog. I'll be back soon!

Defining Moment

One of the Defining Moments of My Medical Student Life:

Driving at 140km/h on a main road rushing to Syarikat Kamal before it closes at 1pm on a Sunday Afternoon. Thanks, Mr Procrastination. Thanks.

Countdown 8 hours to a short period of freedom.

One thing I can't stand about having exams at the end of the week is the fact that you have absolutely no drive to study for it because you're too busy getting caught up in the excitement of the weekend or, in this case, the rare glimpse of a week of holidays we medical students have.

And then, in anticipation of this wonderful relaxing holidays, we pack all sorts of social activities and then, before we know it, POOF! the holidays are gone.

I'm writing this in the midst of packing for my short trip to Jakarta over the ever uneventful Valentine's weekend and after that an extended stay in Singapore, Maybe if I'm lucky enough going to the brand new Universal Studios that's opening this Sunday.

I hate packing. I really hate the decisions we have to make when trying to pack all the essentials into one tiny bag. PFFFFTTT. back to work.