ASTHMA, ASTHMA, WHYFORE ART THOU HERE?

Today I’m had an asthma attack. I went to class and two hours of icebreaking totally brought me down. I felt the wheezing coming last night and I couldn’t sleep until 4 a.m. I was on the nebulizer and I’ve to go in again in a few hours before I leave for KL this evening. My doctor said that my lungs sound like an accordion, really funny doc….

This weekend is a working weekend for me as I have to man the promotion booth at an education exhibition at KLCC. I haven’t really been going to work this week. I was on medical leave on Monday and Thursday, tried to go to work on Tuesday but just managed to be there for two hours before excusing myself. I went to work on Wednesday but was mostly out of it.
I hate these attacks. I had them as a child but I don’t remember—that was what my parents told me. It recurred early this year. It totally sucks. My attacks are usually precipitated by any respiratory infection so the flu I had this past week really helped it along.

It’s my own fault, really. I haven’t had an attack since April I think so I got a bit careless. I felt the sore throat coming and I didn’t do anything about it. Usually if I take care of myself during that time, I’ll be fine and it won’t even get to the full-blown cold or flu.

Every time I get an attack it takes forever for things to get to normal—at least a fortnight before I’m ok again. So I just have to go with the flow then. I hate the medication… Ventolin makes me shake like a junkie in need of a fix. I hate it.

So Joy, let it be a lesson to you…. Take better care of yourself coz no one will do it for you….

The one below was written last night when I couldn’t sleep…

WORDS AND LYRICS

One of the ways I improved my English when I was younger was by listening to songs and lyrics. That stays with me through the years as I find gems in songs. Things that resonate in my mind, touch a nerve or are just plain nice. A friend once told me that I have a good grasp of the idioms of the English language and now that I think of it, one of the reasons (if I do have it, that is) is that the creative language found in lyrics gives me a feel for the language usage. So you’ll find a lot of lyrics, good poems (mostly written by other people) and bad poem (mostly written by yours truly). Mostly, this blog can also be called “WORD VOMIT” as I am totally incapable of keeping things short and sweet. To quote one of my favorite authors, David Eddings, “It takes me ten pages just to clear my throat.” I feel that quote describes me quite well. If you are one of the unfortunate people who get my emails, you can attest to this, right? And those who don’t get anything from me can attest to the opposite, that they don’t get anything at all from me. It’s all or nothing. If I don’t write, I don’t write at all. If I do, watch out! Put your spam guard on! If I don’t write, it doesn’t mean that I don’t love you. I love you to bits. It’s just that I don’t want to impose that unnecessarily on people:) it’s for your own good. Trust me. You are one of the fortunate ones.

Kepips (my sister) used to say to me, “Don’t you ever get tired of talking?” With people I’m close to, the answer is “NO”… sorry. Once she said to me, “Ok, why don’t we see if you can NOT TALK for one minute.” What do you think? Yep, you guessed it, I simply can’t. I tried… but I failed… I bowed my head in defeat. I think I made it to the 40 second mark.

I love it when the effect of words is achieved simply but profoundly. You don’t have to sound like you swallowed the Oxford English Dictionary to be effective. Words are most effective, to me, when you use simple words to say great, complex things. It gives me chills… The most powerful example is the “I Have A Dream” speech by Martin Luther King. He was addressing an audience that comprised of people from all walks of life: manual laborers, illiterates, white collared workers, all the way to the politicians and the bigwigs at the White House. His words were simple and accessible but his use of them in conveying the profound message was masterful.

I’m just easily moved by words. To me words have power—power to hurt, power to heal, power to soothe. I appreciate nuances and the different shades of meaning in different words. I’m easily offended by wrong things being said… that’s usually my first reaction but you can’t operate in this world being that sensitive so I’d just tell myself that they don’t mean it that way. Which is why it is the closest people can hurt us the most as we know whether they know what they are saying or not, whether they mean what they say- the way we perceive what they say. Hmm… that’s a lot of say’s in one sentence, there.

As I re-read my entries, I find grammatical errors but as for now, I just couldn’t be bothered to correct them. I’ll get around to doing that one of these days. So don’t bother me about them.
A writer friend once told me, “You write with your heart and edit with your head. In between, let it rest and come to it again with fresh eyes.” So I’m freshening up my eyes:). Vino would hate that. Me making up my own word and expression… just one of my little quirks, Vino darling. I love Vino… just wanna say that. Feel like saying it (now do you forgive me?) ;)

This song is one of my favorite songs. The words used in this song are simple but the larger meaning is just awesome. This is what I would hum unconsciously time and again. It’s by Joni Mitchell entitled “A Case of You”. I just love it….

Just before our love got lost you said,
"I am as constant as a northern star."
And I said, "Constantly in the darkness
Where's that at?
If you want me I'll be in the bar."

On the back of a cartoon coaster
In the blue TV screen light
I drew a map of Canada
Oh Canada

With your face sketched on it twice
Oh, you're in my blood like holy wine
You taste so bitter and so sweet
Oh I could drink a case of you, darling
And I would still be on my feet
Oh I would still be on my feet

Oh I am a lonely painter
I live in a box of paints
I'm frightened by the devil
And I'm drawn to those ones that ain't afraid
I remember that time you told me, you said,
"Love is touching souls"
Surely you touched mine
'Cause part of you pours out of me
In these lines from time to time
Oh, you're in my blood like holy wine
You taste so bitter and so sweet
Oh I could drink a case of you, darling
Still, I'd be on my feet
I would still be on my feet

I met a woman
She had a mouth like yours
She knew your life
She knew your devils and your deeds
And she said,
"Go to him, stay with him if you can
But be prepared to bleed"
Oh but you are in my blood
You're my holy wine
You're so bitter, bitter and so sweet
Oh, I could drink a case of you, darling
Still I'd be on my feet
I would still be on my feet

I am consolidating my assets so to speak well just my blogs. So I've transferred the other blog here and left a termination notice at the other one. Too much effort to keep up two blogs and almost turned me into a psycho... not something you'd want as I don't have a full set of marbles as it is. So... there you go.



Thursday, July 13, 2006

It's been two years it seems since the last time I wrote here. Well, time has passed and I've grown a bit more... wiser, I hope. A lot has changed since two years ago. I have moved up the career ladder, more responsibilities, a bit more well-travelled and lost my garden, and gave up gardening altogether. I'm just not cut out to be a gardener. Thank God I didn't quit my day job. I moved to an apartment building owned by the company in exchange of my soul.. read here, in charge of young girls...me of all people. Maybe people see something in me that inspire confidence that I can be an adequate role model. Or there aren't anyone who are willing to sell their soul and free time to take care of 360 college girls.

All of the sudden, I feel like going back to writing in this blog. Actually, in the last six months I have been feeling that I want to write. Before this I feel a little like a pretender when I tried to write. I feel like I have to write about nice things only when I have this rage inside clawing to get out and shout at the world. I blame it on the patriachial world I live in. Where women needs to be all nice and keep their mouths shut if they are not happy with anything. Well, I'm too old to do that anymore. I am going to say my piece if I feel like it and if you don't like it, please feel free to lodge a complaint with the moral police. The number is 555-5555...

I also put this reckless attitude to the fact that I'm going to turn 33 this year and I'm not looking to get married. There!! I've said it! I've been deemed to be left on the shelf and past my expiry date. And let me tell you that it is a great load off my shoulder. I can now be more of myself. Not that I was trying to be somebody else, it was more like "let's not worry them with things like that" kind of thing. Or probably I had some subconscious desire to get married like other ppl. Therefore displaying behavior well-suited for someone who want to get married. Well, no more, Bucky! This is me, World! Take it or leave it. The world needs spinsters like me. We add some spice to the sickeningly sweet mixture of cloyness that premeates the air... Think of it as a whiff of eucalyptus oil in a roomful of rose potpurri and scented candles.

So world, if you think that the content of this blog might upset you, I suggest that you go to some other blogs that are fluffy and warm and fuzzy... or read my 4 entries from two years ago. That's fuzzy.... you can read them til you're cross-eyed. So what I'm saying basically is that "Reader's Discretion Advised" for Malaysian public.

posted by annys @ 12:33 AM 1 comments

Tuesday, June 29, 2004

My computer skills is apparently on the similar level to that of my gardening skills. I've been trying for days to publish some photo here... but alas it's all in vain.

I simply can't do it.

It's ok, I'll get it soon (I hope)

It's very frustrating though. I'm going to get some breakfast and get back to work afterwards. I've loads of stuff to deal with.


To those who have been trying to follow my meandering thoughts, thank you. I know it's very hard to follow something when it is almost non existent. However, after seeing Nisah's site last night, I'm so impressed and I wish to follow in her footsteps. Might not be as profound as hers, but it sure beats reading 2 entries for 2 whole months. For those who are interested in finding out more about her, she's one of Malaysian treasure. She writes in Malay and her books are not those semi literate Malay almost soft porn chick-lit you find out there at the bookstores. She is the real deal. She won the 2nd place in the national novel competition organized by Utusan Malaysia. It's cool-so check it out... www.nisah.cjb.net

To zrett... akabar? oooo nak attack kanis punya blog yek... boleh... as soon as you can teach me how to put an attack space. So nak kanis tolong makankan apa ni kat Melaka... heheh....
I hope to see you soon... study hard:)

laterz dudes and dudettes

posted by annys @ 10:38 AM 4 comments

Monday, June 28, 2004

Ah, Sun-flower! weary of time,
Who countest the steps of the Sun;
Seeking after that sweet golden clime
Where the traveller’s journey is done:

Where the Youth pined away with desire,
And the pale Virgin shrouded in snow:
Arise from their graves and aspire,
Where my Sun-flower wishes to go.

William Blake
Songs of Experience (1794) ‘Ah, Sun-flower!’

I love all flowers. I adore them and I cherish them. But no matter how hard I try, gardening still eludes me. I wonder why? I bought countless gardening books (well actually just 10;)) But still everything I touch would die. It's very sad actually. All my love can't save the flowers that I plant. Once, a friend, who possessed the greenest thumb ever among my peers, told me, "Why do you torture all these plants? If you just buy them just to kill them, don't even buy plants." She's a consummate gardener. We were 24 when she said that. Even now years later, those words still disturb me. Once, Madilin (another non-gardener like myself) and I bought a spider plant each. They say that any fool can keep them alive. I guess we must be the only fools in the world who couldn't keep a measly spider plant alive. They were dying... we agonized over them and begged them to get well. Well we decided that we would no longer be selfish and gave them up for adoption. Phawani was the name of the lady who took over the caring of the plants. A month later she told us, "Hey, the plants you gave me are really thriving. My husband and I even divided and repotted them.... I looked at Maddie and she looked at me. "Great," said the two non-gardeners with envy.

People have told me that I'm stubborn. I guess they are right since I've been trying again and again to cultivate my gardening skills as I cultivate my plants. So last week after 2 years since the previous attempt, I treated myself to a garden...

"How ambitious," you might say, when one plant hardly ever survive because of me... A few have survived in spite of me though. The reason for a garden, well if you can call 3 bougainvillae plants, 2 types of jasmine plants, a lime plant, a type of succulent (see all that reading has paid off), a lotus plant and another sturdy-looking water plant- a garden, is that it looks happier when all the flowerpots are neatly lined up against my wall. I bought 2 pots of instant flowers (for the lack of words). It is a package that includes 4 seeds, about 3 cups of soil and a plastic flowerpot. I also bought a few packets of seeds: sunflowers (MY ABSOLUTE FAVOURITE), morning glory (I have the feeling that they aren't very demanding. After all they thrive unattended hehe..), 2 types of annuals and one other plant that I can't remember the name (the reading hasn't really paid off, i guess) . I got a mixture of plants to start with. So we'll see how it goes.

When I was watering my "garden" I saw that my sunflowers and the 2 instant flowerpots have sprouted. I am so happy. I hope the gladness stays.

Then I got to thinking, gardening teaches us deferred gratification. It teaches us patience in waiting for the fruit or flowers of our labor to appear. Compare that with buying flowers. When you buy flowers, your desire for flowers is instantly gratified when the money exchanged hand.

On the other hand, gardening has us battling with heartache, numerous leaves with no flower in sight and worry that the plant might die, before blessing us with the flowers that we grow with our own hands. It's the most satisfying feeling in the world... especially for a minimal garderner that I am.


I'll keep you posted.

posted by annys @ 6:53 PM 1 comments

Thursday, May 06, 2004

Fragile as the leave in autumn...

Sometimes we are oblivious to what we are doing and its consequences that it takes a similar experience to happen to someone you care about for you to see it from another perspective and realize that you have been thoughtless and unfair.

Why is that?

Why can't we automatically know? Wouldn't it be nice to be able to avoid all that complication, now?

I know, I know, it doesn't work that way. What then can be done? Well, learn from experience, I always say. Life is a journey and as Roxie and Velma said, "We move on."

posted by annys @ 1:24 PM

Saturday, April 24, 2004

hello world!!

posted by annys @ 2:08 PM

My Current Playlist

I’m Outta Love- Anastasia
Left Outside Alone- Anastasia
Can’t Hold Us Down- Christina Aguilerra
Fighter- Christina Aguilerra
When Love And Hate Collide- Def Leppard
Independent Woman- Destiny’s Child
Pupus- Dewa
White Flag-Dido
I’ll Be- Edwin McCain
Bring Me To Life- Evanescence
My Immortal- Evanescence
Cry- Faith Hill
I Don’t Wanna Be- Gavin DeGraw
Miss Independent- Kelly Clarkson
Cobalah Untuk Setia- Kris Dayanti
Cinta- Kris Dayanti
Black Horse And The Cherry Tree- KT Tunstall
I Do- Lisa Loeb
How You Remind Me- Nickleback
Don’t Speak- No Doubt
I Will Survive- Diana Ross
Don’t Cha- Pussycat Dolls
Pudar- Rossa
Unpretty- TLC
Creep- TLC
I Drive Myself Crazy- N’Sync (yeah…I know, how could I right? But we all have the right to be sappy to the max on occasion! All right! I'll admit it, I'm a sap. There! Are you happy?)

I call this playlist "Frustrated Strength" .... go figure!

I believe that English saved my life. How, you might ask. In high school, I really didn’t have anything that I was good at. Not sports obviously as the school doesn’t really have any sports program. We had PE once a week for 45 minutes where the teacher wears high heels to the field and pointed imperiously for you to fetch the ball or something idiotic like that. Most of the time, though, we just sat in class while the teacher catches up on her lesson plans. So it was safe to say that the sports program, at least for girls at that school was non-existent.

I wasn’t good at math or science. My brain just isn’t wired that way or most likely that my cognitive maturity was lacking for the math and science work that we did at that school because I remember understanding with perfect clarity what I learned at Form Three when I was in Form Four. Things ferment in my brain until I get around to understanding them. Luckily, I was smart enough to memorize things without understanding them. Otherwise, who’d know what I could’ve become. So that’s how I got along at school. I’m not saying that I was stupid but I had no passion for anything they were teaching at that school. In class, I was a little bit above average but in my heart I knew that there were more in me than that.

When I was in Form One, there was this Bruneian teacher who taught Arabic. I flourished and I aced every test- getting above 90 percent all the time. Unfortunately she was doing her practical teaching training. So she was there at most for 5 months and a Troll took over the class when she left and the way he taught was horrible. I don’t think he did any actual teaching. He came into the class, and told us to answer questions from the book one by one. If you answer it wrongly, you keep standing and if you get it right, you can sit down. That went on until the the period ended. If you were standing, and your turn came and you got it wrong, you stand on the chair and if your turn came again and you got it wrong again, you stand on the table. Guess who got to stand on the table? Yep… until I wised up.

The classes were divided into 3 and they were streamed according to our ability in Arabic and I was in the last class. All my life I’ve always been in the smart group and if I were a bit hypersensitive, it would’ve killed me. But it did leave some kind of insecurity complex that I wasn’t as bright as the others but since I was the brightest in the pool of stupidity, it didn’t get to me too much.

So how did I get wise up? I got the answers before the class but since the people I asked weren't exactly geniuses at Arabic, I got to keep standing on regular basis for old times' sake, but just on the floor. Not on the desk or even on the chair. That’s how I survived my Form One Arabic class.

We kept each other’s spirit up by thinking that it will be over at the end of the year and in Form Two, the best Arabic teacher would be teaching us. So bright eyed and bushy tailed, we waited breathlessly for our nicest Arabic teacher to walk in but no, the Troll strolled in, no pun intended. The second year slaughter continued. In Form Four, I was useless by then, we got the best Arabic teacher but the damage has already been done. I developed a resistence for anything Arabic. I tried to flunk it at the National Examination that we had to take at the end of the third year so that I could transfer school but couldn’t even manage that.

Back to the thesis statement that English saved my life. In Malaysia we learned English since we were 6 years old. That didn’t do me any good as I went to school in a rural area and nobody around me spoke English. Neither of my parents speaks the language. So I concluded that I sucked at it too.

My eldest sister (by 5 years) loved reading. She had a subscription to the Readers Digest and I couldn’t understand how she could read it. It didn’t have any interesting picture, the font was so tiny that it gives you headache so I told her so in the most scathing manner (the insolent idiot trying to look down her nose at something she didn’t understand). She tossed casually, “I challenge you to read that and understand it. I’ll bet you can’t.” I was speechless… because I couldn’t—as she says.

I walked away thinking, “I’ll show you!” but I had nothing to show. I didn’t understand the language. I was in Form 2 then I think—14 years old. I went to the library, looked at English books that I could understand most of the words. I started with big thin fairytales with large prints that you give to 5-year-olds to teach them reading. When I finished those, I was good enough to understand most of the words of a slightly more complex books so I borrowed those and that continued with books with increasing difficulties. So basically I brought my proficiency up from poor to very good for my age group in a year. I went to the library before class started to borrow a book and read it from start to finish by recess when I borrowed another book that I would return at the end of school. I read when the between periods while waiting for the next teacher, when the teacher was not teaching, when there was no teacher (the teachers in that school sometimes, well a lot of times, had to attend to something or the other so we had a lot of free period and especially when the teacher teaching bored me. Plus, I hated being in that school so reading became my escape from the oppresive world around me then. So found my passion. I LOVED READING!! Wow! How cool was that! In addition to that, I developed the ability to speed-read without having to pay someone to teach me how to do it.

I started getting A’s in English and developed the reputation to being a walking dictionary. Being good at English in that very conservative environment wasn’t easy. They want to stay on your good side because they need to ask you to help them with their homework but I was also weird because how in the world could this girl with no discernable talent become so good at something that they are not plus it’s the language of the Colonist… yes, they did think like that.

In addition to that I had teachers whom I adored in Form Two all the way to Form Five. That really helped. I’m an emotional learner. When I learn anything, I have to be engaged emotionally by my teacher to stay motivated. Thus, Arabic was never my strong point to put it mildly, with the Troll making my life miserable.

In Form Four, I knew what I wanted to be when I grew up. I wanted to take TESL and become an English teacher. And I did….

See, English did save my life. It gave me an escape route during my darkest time (that’s what I consider my highschool life to be), gave me self-esteem and gave me a job.

The Necklace

The one I wear around my neck

To the naked eye seems to be precious, golden and materialistic

If you look closely with your mind and heart

You'll see that it is more than that

Who would know more than me

Of what it really stands for

For freedom of choice

To love, to touch, to give, to receive, to accept and to share

The golden strand around my neck

Is the promise I make to myself

To listen to my heart

Always

To hold true to my desires

It is my reminder to myself

For me to be a woman first and always

Its metallic strength is an echo of the strength of my soul

Its glint is a reflection of my radiant spirit

Its value is an echo of my precious emotions

Its beauty is a hint of my true womanly beauty

It tells of the promise that I make to my heart

To fill my life with love, blessing and promise

To always look ahead with a clear sight and open heart

And to love myself as who I am

Idealism, realism, optimism

IDEALISM, REALISM, OPTIMISM

I am surrounded by idealists actually, that sometimes when I'm with them I feel like the veritable Scrooge. I am a self-confessed realist. However, my realism is tinted in turn by optimism, pessimism and at times idealism and sometimes even romanticism *gasp!!

I can be very honest at the point of brutality but generally I opt for the policy of keeping my mouth shut if I don't have anything nice to say. However, as time goes by and I get older, I find myself taking the approach of "who cares what other people think" and the gradual onset of assertiveness I attribute to self assurance, self esteem and confidence that come with maturity and good like-minded company :).

If I have the balls to say it, I have the balls to back it up too. Not literally of course since I'm of the female persuasion- just as a metaphor. My realism stems from that too I think, I admit I started my life as an Idealist... like most people I think, but after being in the real world, your rose-tinted glasses start to slip little by little. And I think mine almost come off now. Time and again I feel them slip up before slipping down again. I seriously think that working with the government is the contributing factor to the crash of my idealism. Not to say that my previous jobs didn't have anything to do with the fall of idealism from my cognitive and emotional makeup. They have their own special little ways of chipping at my idealism.

Let's trace back the rise and fall of my ideals, shall we?

In the beginning, I was a tabula rasa... sort of... hating my surrounding for its hediously hypocritical religious flavor. Hmm.. come to think of it, it wasn't so much of tabula rasa... The tabula rasa is mostly the battleground where two ways of thinking fighting over each other for dominance. On one hand, we have the conventional, more generic values that surrounded me- with the inconsistencies and hypocracies called traditions and customs. I come from a very traditional family where men are men and women are women. So I was brought up knowing how to conduct myself to be pleasing and decorus to the beholder- with demure smiles and lowered eyes...

On the other hand, I hated the injustices that I see as the result of the traditions. I struggled against them in my own small ways. I was sent to the religious boarding school since I was 13 and at 18 I graduated high school. I hated every single day of the time I spent there. Thinking back, I could've turned into a serial killer or something. The students who go to that school are divided into 2 categories, day schoolers and boarders. It was without a doubt an extended cruel and unusual punishment for me.

Although my house is in the same district as the school, in fact it was about 8 kilometers away or something asinine like that, my parents insisted that I joined the boarders. My parents went to that school, 4 of their offsprings went there too... some got lucky and got sent to other boarding school after a while. Not me!! No siree, I was stuck there for 5 miserable years. Not fitting in with the cackling hypocritical witches at the dorm, I was an outcast...not a very good place to be for a 13 year old girl. Luckily, my big brother went there too... my handsome, popular big brother, so the senior girls thought that overtly bullying me wouldn't score points with my brother so they sort of like left me alone. That put me in a very interesting situation actually because I got away with thing that would normally warrant a torture session from the senior girls. Not that my brother would care one way or the other what happened to me but they couldn't believe the handsome Crescent wouldn't listen to his adorable little sister Joy...WHY? .. He's perfectly handsome, of course he listens to her and protects her... incidentally, that's how most women think of handsome men... that just because they look perfect, they must be perfect too...yeah, and Ted Bundy was really perfect, I guess. But that let me off the hook, so I was kinda ok with them thinking that.

So I became some sort of an america... you know.. bring me your blind, your downtrodden, your prosecuted, that kind of thing and my brother inadvertently acted as my insurance policy and here, I would like to thank him for that... for unknowingly protecting me haha.

So that was my first dose of realism, I think. No wonder why I can't stick to being an Idealist. I've seen too much shit in from a young age coming from people who you'd think wouldn't do something like that. The ideals came later....

Bridge Over Troubled Water

When you' re weary feeling small
When tears are in your eyes I'll dry them all
I'm on your side, oh... when times get rough
And friends just can't be found
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down

When you're down and out
When you're on the street
When evening falls so hard
I will comfort you
I'll take your part
When darkness comes, and pain is all around
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down

Sail on silver girl
Sail on by
Your time has come to shine
All your dreams are on their way
See how they shine
Oh if you need a friend
I'm sailing right behind
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will ease your mind
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will ease your mind

First Vacation Since I Started My Life as a Worker of the World

For your information, that started in 1997, so I have been slogging away for nine years before I decided "THAT'S IT!!" So I took the much needed rest at the ripe old age of 32. I worked when I was 23.. wow, that long? Twenty-three... looking back, being twenty-three was so far away...

One of the reasons why I took the decision to travel is because I have always loved travelling. It's just that there was never enough money for me to travel. Not to say that I've struck it rich since then but I just don't want to let that stop me. I mean, when do you really have money magically left over after you bought that lipstick that you really must have? Never... Nunca....

So I closed my eyes and booked my ticket, blackmailed my boss so that he lets me take the necessary leave - well, it's more not giving him a chance to say no... he just has to choose whether I go in May or June:). It worked.... note to self.... when dealing with men, give them choices, don't ask for permission... the answer is almost always a resounding "NO!" So I once was selected to go to Ohio University in Athens so I felt that that is the right choice. Plus I once hosted a friend for two months when he came down to Malaysia, so I figured that I can call in my favors now. And he happily hosted my vacation there. I can tell you right now if I had to pay for accomodation, I'd be broke by now! In a way I did pay for my vacation, I cooked him curry... lots and lots and lots of curry.... :)

I flew into Chicago after being 19 hours on the plane on the 7th June 2006. I enjoyed Chicago for three days- staying at a youth hostel in the LOOP.... well mainly trying to get over the jet lag actually. I was so tired I just took the Double Decker trolley for two days around Chicago. Round and round I went. I just snapped pictures right and left. The sad thing about travelling alone is that your picture is never in... you are the photographer. But well... I didn't care, I know how I look already:P I might be vain but not that vain (i hope).

I truly recommend staying at a youth hostel. You meet a lot of people and you really connect and make friends although the friendship might not go beyond that vacation, who cares.... I was very fortunate that during my stay there, the Chicago Blues Festival was in full swing. So a group of us from the Hostel walked over to the park with a large piece of tarpauline and sat there listening to the amazing blues... It was an incredible experince. I want to go back to Chicago and do it properly next time.

My style of traveling is so casual. As long as I know where I'm sleeping th) at night, the rest is just whatever comes my way or whatever fancy takes me. So there are tons of things I haven't seen in Chicago. And to me, that's structured enough for me:).

Next destination is probably Italy or Spain .... *sigh... All contribution to "Anisah's Traveling Fund" is deeply appreciated ;) if you donate more than 50 ringgit, you can get tax break from it. heheh. .... I'll even throw in a souvenier mug or something:):):)