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I finally did it. After weeks of procrastination, I managed to do it.
Do what?
I've moved to a new blog. Yes, I have.
I'm not sure what exactly made me do it. Maybe it was when Xanga started giving me problems, like taking too long to load or connect to anything and screwing up the HTML coding. Maybe it was when other hosts started coming up and I realized that there were bigger, better things out there. Or maybe it was when I looked through my posts from as far back as 2004 and realized that that really wasn't how I wanted this site to be anymore, because the little college student who started blogging back in 2004 isn't the same as this confused, slightly more grown-up woman blogging now. Whatever it is, it's time I moved. It's been a good run -- a good four-year run -- and even though I signed up for the new one several weeks ago, I was still very much attached to this site because it had been my lifeline throughout some of the best and most difficult years of my life. Therefore, this site will stay up for a little while longer until every one o' y'all is more used to hopping onto the new one -- and until I have the heart to shut it down once and for all. I've moved a substantial number of posts over to the new one, mainly the important ones, and everything from 2005 and back will remain here. But enough of the Irish goodbyes. http://backstagepiphany.wordpress.com/ | | |
| Flight of fancy "You and I are like that red wall." - Carrie Bradshaw, Sex & the City
Apparently guys 'dig it' when girls think of them this way, and actually say it. Whoever these girls were, they were extremely fortunate to have men who didn't run in the opposite direction when they told them how they felt. But to be fair, the author of this post is already in a relationship which gives her the freedom to tell the whole world she's madly in love. Over the years, I've been told that I keep too much to myself, which gives people the impression of, as Scarlett O'Hara put it so well, a "silly little fool who can't open her mouth except for 'yes' and 'no' and raise a passel of mealy-mouthed brats just like her." As I grew older, I tried to open up more, but still with great difficulty, and eventually managed to get to a stage where, after many moments of freezing up and deep breathing and screaming to myself to calm down, I would bring on the word vomit. But somehow, whether immediately or weeks or months later, it would backfire on me, and after each time it happened I swore I would never take that risk again. I do agree that when it comes to matters of the heart, some things are really best put out on the table, because even if we're terrified of the consequences, we will never know what lies on the other side until we actually step over the line. But if telling him I was in love with him was just the tip of the iceberg which made everything fall spectacularly apart, is it any wonder I never told him the rest? How could I tell him that I don't know why or when or how I fell in love with him, but only that he had made me happier than I'd been in a long time? How could I tell him that of all the men I'd ever known, he was the only one who had ever come close to breaking me in ways I had refused to break before? How could I tell him that I was grateful to him for bringing back that feeling of hope I'd lost so long ago? Not the hope for anything to come out of what we had then, but that no matter how difficult things were, with enough hope and faith in ourselves and in God's grace, everything would eventually be all right. How could I tell him that everytime he laughed at my silliness it made me feel warm, or that everytime he looked me in the eyes it shook me to the core and I had to look away? How could I tell him that I understood his vulnerability and that I was here for him, and that it didn't matter what he was afraid of or what his flaws were but that I accepted him just the way he was? How could I tell him any of this when the very intention of telling him was what drove him away in the first place? | | |
| The calm before the storm
What's going on?
Sometimes you have to wonder what it's all worth. Sometimes you have to think of how much others have already suffered for the sake of freedom. Sometimes you have to think of how much more they will have to suffer for the sake of freedom. Sometimes you have to think of this Uncertainty that has been the sole constant for so long. And then you have to wonder if it's worth it.
Three Arrests in Malaysia
FROM TODAY'S WALL STREET JOURNAL ASIA
September 15, 2008 undefined
Malaysia's democracy took a body blow Friday with the
arrests of a blogger, a journalist and an opposition politician under
the country's draconian Internal Security Act. The government appears
willing to use any means it can, including fear and intimidation, to
retain office as support for opposition parties grows.
Home Minister Syed Hamid Albar justified Friday's
arrests as an effort to "safeguard the interest of the majority."
Blogger Raja Petra Kamaruddin commented on political and racial issues
on his popular Web site. Reporter Tan Chee Hoon wrote about a ruling
party politician's slur on the country's Chinese minority in Malaysia's
largest-circulation Chinese-language daily. Democratic Action Party
politician Teresa Kok was accused of objecting to a mosque broadcasting
its morning prayers too loudly.
The accusations are ridiculous on their face. Mr.
Kamaruddin exercised his right to free speech, which is protected under
Malaysia's constitution. Ms. Tan's reporting also falls under free
speech, and the man whose comments she reported hasn't been arrested.
Ms. Kok's alleged crime was refuted by the mosque, which confirms she
wasn't involved -- and even if she were, why would it be a crime to
file a noise complaint? There's no reason the charges couldn't be
sorted out by civil courts.
Rather than an attempt to "protect" Malaysians, the
arrests seem designed to invoke fear before the opposition parties, led
by Anwar Ibrahim, mount a challenge to government in Parliament. The
ISA is a powerful weapon: Under its umbrella, the police can detain any
Malaysian indefinitely with the permission of the Home Minister. Five
ethnic Indian activists arrested under the ISA in December remain
behind bars.
The government denies that Friday's arrests were
politically motivated. The Home Minister became visibly agitated when
questioned by journalists at a press conference Saturday, saying, "We
do get information from members of the public who feel unsafe, so we
have to take preventive measures." If that's the case, then Mr. Albar
could help make his case by releasing that information.
The arrests are part of a broader crackdown on freedom
of expression. Mr. Kamaruddin's blog, Malaysia Today, was blocked
briefly by government regulators last month. On Wednesday the police
issued "a stern warning to all quarters to refrain from making
statements on sensitive issues via the various media." Two days later,
the government sent "show cause" letters to three newspapers -- the
Sun, Sin Chew Daily, and Suara Keadilan, Mr. Anwar's party publication
-- asking them to explain why they shouldn't be prosecuted for recent
news coverage. The content of the letters hasn't been made public.
The police released the reporter, Ms. Tan, Saturday,
saying she had cooperated with them. That action could be seen as a
tacit admission on the government's part that it was a mistake to
incarcerate her in the first place. More likely is that the UMNO-led
coalition was interested in protecting its own back. UMNO's Chinese
coalition partners were outraged after Ms. Tan reported the
anti-Chinese slur by a Penang state official, Ahmad Ismail. UMNO
responded by banning Mr. Ahmad from politics for three years, calming
the intra-coalition dispute. Ms. Tan's arrest rekindled the flames.
That leaves Mr. Kamaruddin and Ms. Kok behind bars
today. Many Malaysians are courageously protesting their incarcerations
in blogs, text messages and public statements. The Malaysian Bar
Association said Friday "the ISA and other preventive detention laws
violate fundamental rights, are unconstitutional and oppressive, and
have no place in a society that respects and upholds the rule of law."
A political showdown is expected soon. Mr. Anwar says
he has enough votes in Parliament to defeat UMNO's coalition. As the
government struggles to retain power, its use of the Internal Security
Act weakens its legitimacy. Many Malaysians already see Friday's
arrests for what they are -- a blot on their country's democracy.
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| Code Red
I've done it again. Once again I've set myself up for the equivalent of a plane crash, and now I'm left to pick up the pieces on my own. And once again, I have absolutely nobody to blame but myself, because I chose to stay in the plane, and I chose to face the pain and the humiliation in the hopes that in the end everything would turn out all right. It might not be so bad though, because it was a long time coming. They were right. They were all right. They all knew this was headed for disaster, and they all tried to warn me. But I ignored their advice, choosing instead to stick to what I wanted to believe in, to what I had believed in right from the very beginning, yet all the while knowing in the back of my mind that they were right. But now that the truth of it has been forced in my face, I just need to lift my chin and go through it with what little dignity I have left. If only it didn't hurt so damn much. | | |
| Down the road"Happy Birthday Lilian. You're 21 now and free to do whatever you want to make you laugh the years away." - Jeanette (Janetty) In the months that I've been back here, the one thing I've always been extremely grateful for is the small circle of friends I have who have made the difficult times easier to bear. Apparently it's a sign of introversion that I've never been one for massive congregations of friends, and have always been content with just a few -- the count-on-one-hand few -- whom I could be comfortable with and confide in. Unlike those who manage to maintain friendships with people they knew from as far back as primary school, I was never in one place long enough to make proper friends up until I went to Buffalo, which is probably why I'm terrible at the keeping-in-touch thing. My mother, on the other hand, has three friends with whom she's maintained her friendships since kindergarten. They spent a good twelve years all together in the same class in Convent Light Street, and managed to stay in touch throughout the years. Now they're 51 years old and still meeting up for lunches and dinners and coffees in Bangsar -- because one of them, strangely like Becca, lives in Damansara Heights and refuses to go anywhere else -- and still being the loudest in the room. Looking at the friends I have now, sometimes I wonder what it would be like twenty or thirty years down the road. I wonder if we will be like our mothers and have the luxury of making each other 21 cupcakes for our 51st birthdays, sitting down in one another's living rooms and talking about the days we spent sitting at D'Haven and Starbucks and Coffee Bean, how silly we were in our twenties, how we made mountains out of molehills and how each sat with the other through her crises and crying jags over enormous amounts of food, coffee and alcohol. I do want that luxury, because all that will be left of the old days are the memories and the people who share them. You are one of my biggest inspirations. You taught me to work hard for everything I wanted in life, to depend on myself, to not let anyone define who I am, to hold my head high when deep down I was falling apart. You taught me to laugh, to make others laugh, and to find a way to laugh when life had drained what little happiness I had left. You taught me to love, without conditions, without demands, without reasons, without questions, without bounds, without reserve, without self, to see all the good in the people that I care for and to believe in them and love them just the way they are. I'm sorry you couldn't always have that love, that your life was more difficult than it deserved to be, and that I was too young to understand and for you to confide in me. I'm sorry you had to hide the fact that you were hurt simply because I was too young to understand, that you had to hold your own head up when what you yourself held dear was falling apart, and that I was too young to tell you that sometimes it's all right to show that you're hurt, and it's all right to want someone to help you get through the hard times. I only hope that you realize that you've touched many people's hearts, and whether or not you've allowed them to see your weaknesses, they love you just the same, the way they know you love them. Happy Birthday Mama. | | |
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