Afternoon AGM

It was democratic for sure, which is why it lasted for about three hours. An Annual General Meeting with women - you bet it's not going to be over anytime soon. Every voice was given a chance to speak - those who had views threw it out to the rest of the table - without fear that there would be repercussions to speaking their minds. Something we surely lack in this country - encouraging people to speak. God forbid we give them a chance to be educated. Education really is key.

As the meeting began, I was excited; pumped at the possibilities that could arise, at the things I would hear, at the notes that I would take (surreptitiously at the back of course). We started out with minutes from the last meeting, then proceeded to finances. Yea, not my favourite thing in the world. My mind started to wander. I had to force myself to concentrate. Transportation fees? Honorarium hire? Fund-raising? (Hey, we can throw parties in the name of feminism right?).

That's when I realized though - it is the nitty-gritty details, the rentals and the materials to make posters, to print manuals and books...that make up the big picture. The mindless administrative work, the filing of documents, the recording. When the cause is right though, these things become secondary. I started to pay attention and learnt a few things - finance...easy-peasy right? And if all else fails, I can learn from the Google Gods.

Whatever it takes - learning to raise money, learning to balance a checkbook (or at least knowing who to hire), I think you can do anything when you heart is burning with all-consuming passion.

Yes I really am that naive, I reckon if you took a peek in my head, you'd hear a conversation that goes like this:

Mil (the Realist): So Mil, when you build a community centre, like you always wanted, where kids can play, learn to dance, play chess and all those fun kid-stuff things, how are you going to raise money for it?

Mil (me): Umm...I guess I'll ask the pretty rainbow fairies to slid down their colourful highways and loan me some money for my pretty community centre. And then I'll get my goblin homies to paint it up all purple.

My New Life As a Non-Smoker

So I finally took the plunge and decided to quit cigarettes. My reasons for this involved many things, of which include mortality, my Dad's mortality, the people I love, my poor lungs and hey, why not nurture my singing voice?

Today was the first day and it was a good challenge. More often than not, I felt like a fighter, putting my nose down at cigarettes and proud to be able to say NO! Other times got me thinking wistfully of these sticks, distant from a lost friend. I wrote a goodbye letter last night, and in it I put out the fact that cigarettes were like a friend to me, especially in my darkest hours. There was some sort of emotional attachment to a overrated box of cancer twigs. But I persevered, much to the surprise of many friends perhaps. My persona for the past six years had somehow gelded with cigarettes; many people associate me with Salems; one almost always in my hand, especially after meals or between work. Cigarettes were part of my routine, how I decided where to eat and and a constant companion especially on long car drives. In fact, my car had never known me as a non-smoker, having witnessed the many puffs I would take as I coast down a Malaysian highway, or crawl through a Malaysian jam. For 6 years, I held hands with cigarettes and now it is all over.

The bigger part of me is extremely happy, and has already planned many things to replace the habit (think lollipops). A small teeny tiny part of me is sad, because it feels like an era gone by. But even an era will eventually fade. And I have to remember that the good has to outweigh the bad and perhaps my trusted ciggies are more bad than good. Most definitely, I should say.

It's 2012 and the time has come to make some overhauls. The only thing I'm bringing with me from 2011 is the phrase "Why not?" Let's rock this joint.

Goddamn

It is 6.54p.m and I'm the last one in the office. It is one of those days where I realize that I don't feel productive and am not living my full potential. And then I wonder what my potentials are and where or what I'm supposed to be. I think back to the last time I was productive; which I pin down to the day I wrote an article about an art gallery that I really enjoyed visiting. That was quite awhile ago, last month or maybe before that to be perfectly honest. And I shut my eyes and think really hard about the last time I exalted in the feeling of being useful and it always comes back to life in Perth. I remember the sweet feeling or researching and writing and scribbling ideas and debating and reading and cursing and having someone tell me that I got it. Of being around people who could carry many conversations about politics, the world, journalism, the war on terror etc. It is a lonely life, the life of a writer. There are many times when I have felt like an antisocial outcast because society expects one to socialize. I am a dreamer, very much an idealistic one that at this moment, is struggling to be realistic, at the same time not wanting to lose the wanderer in me. I am feeling lost, and I definitely don't have a sense of direction. I also ponder about ending up alone since I seem to prefer solitude, but that is a problem that is far away. At the moment, I just long for that feeling again. I sometimes wonder if it was a fluke but I couldn't have been fluking for a whole year now, could I? I'm trying to remember what drove me and for the life of me, I can't right now. Was it a last-ditch desperate attempt to get good grades in my final year? Was it the realization that I could do better? Was it the lingering fear that my grandmother was watching me? (haha - maybe not). Or could it have been that I really enjoyed what I was doing? That was definitely a HUGE part of it. The problem with me is that I'm unsure how to motivate myself when I have no interest whatsoever in what I'm working on. I'm quite a child in that way. I'm essentially, at the moment, stuck in a comfort zone so deep, so wide that I don't know the first thing about climbing my way out. I'm guessing my choice is not going to be easy. But I am still at the crossroad I was, 10 months ago. Goddamn everything.