The oldest friend in the world.

I was photographing my brother's bookcase when he jokingly asked me to photograph Teddy. So I pick the bear up and have a good look at him. He feels like featherweight in my hands and very small. There are balding patches on his limbs and nose that look like open sores. One of his eyes is broken. Bro says that makes Teddy half-blind. Teddy has changed a lot. He has been loved so much and for so long that the changes are irreparable. Out of curiosity, I count the years Teddy has been my brother's friend. Fifteen. Immediately, I thought, yes, why not?

1) Old.

2. Blind

 3. Bald

4. Special.

Hello, I am home.

So, I have been on a plane and am now back in my home country of Malaysia. I am heavily jetlagged, a little fragile with stomach flu but otherwise, happy to hug my IKEA bed. The weather here is -- as usual -- hot, sticky and sunny. Going outdoors makes my eyes squint and the roads smell baked by the sun. Always, this is so different from the cold, mossy air of England. But it is a forever landmark that tells me, hooray, you're really, really home.

I have so much plans for the holidays. Next week, I will embark on a new photoventure with V and J, my primary school friends. V has been sending me beautiful photos for inspiration and my head is spinning in conflict at what to shoot next after next. She proposes levitation photos and gothic shoots. I want to do them all! We are so excited about it because for the first shoot, we are going to drive to the forest reserve half an hour away and find  waterfalls and pools. Over there, they shall be my models and I shall abuse them for the sake of art.

In the midst of photoventures, I am also going to write my ghost story novel for my final year project. I am excited but my enthusiasm is dull and borderline unkeen. I have the story idea floating somewhere in the warp-space of my mind. But it has no legs to take it places. So, to ground myself, I wrote two chapters and a chin-chai synopsis and showed it to people. My Asian friends think it is too "anime-ish" ... a good thing or a bad thing?

The hippo in me says, just write that fucking story and see. And see, we shall.

Little Dog's Story.

As I ended my photo-venture to Iremonger's Pond, I met a little dog in the field nearby. He was trailing behind his lady owner, being a total pup by ducking in and out of the long grass. Before entering, he would touch the tip of his nose against the the tips of grass and then, take a daring jump into the green blades.

Because the grass was taller than he was, the feeling must be like vanishing into into a dark, grassy jungle. He got scared and bounded out as though he met some hidden grass monsters. Yet, not even a second later, he was back inside. Excited, curious and having fun.

Watching him, I found his little shenanigans so funny that I sat like a duck and raised my camera. That was when he froze and became so shy he couldn't even run to hide behind his owner. She called to him and he pattered towards her, sheepishly at first and then, extra quickly as he went past me.

His owner told me "go ahead" so I raised the camera one more time and framed his image in my viewfinder. Still, the little guy wouldn't engage with me, wandering behind his owner's legs and sniffing the grass tips again. Anyhow, he refused to look my way.

"Sit", his owner finally said. He wouldn't so she pushed his bottom down and he collapsed his hind legs. Then she pointed a finger at me and his eyes helplessly, instinctively followed.

With live models, I find the best shots happen when your heart tells you to push the shutter. In that microsecond whip of his head, I deployed that button ... and captured this little dog's story in one frame.

It's really strange how animals can be so human-like with their reactions. I've never owned dog before so this was very new. Already, I can imagine that, the day I do get a little dog of my own, this blog will be obsessively dog-centered and my RAM will overflow with insane cuteness.

Pray for me that day will come soon, please? Because I'm already prepared to bookmark it.

Little Dog. 

Living & Dreaming.

I am going to take 5 minutes to typitty-type this post before I run off into the sunny afternoon for yet another photo-venture. The time now is 3:00 in the afternoon and so I shall be done by 3:05.

So yesterday, I had a thought while I was lying in bed, doing some 2AM reading. I realised that my life is so lackluster and loserly that I've lost all inspiration to make the most of it. All  I do everyday, seriously, is geek on the interwebs. I don't even write my stories anymore. In fact, I don't even lift. Wait, I've never lifted. 

The most I do is go out and take photos which gives me a sense of adventure. A little purpose, even. But my photographs are at most, mediocre. They don't "speak" to people. They just show all the pretty places I've been too. It's like a reading a fucking Peter and Jane book.

This is Peter. This is Jane.

This is a deserted building. This is a daisy. 

Anyway, rewind to yesterday's at 2AM. As I realised my sad realisation, I also realised that I am to blame. Why is my life so lacklustre? Because I fill it with the most unexciting decisions. And why is my life so loserly? Because I choose to geek out everyday instead of going out to inspire myself. 

Essentially, I should stop being me. Or in other words, the unproductive me. 

This means, no more saying never. Only living and dreaming and being better. It's 3:14 now. Ah, fuck. I went over my time limit. Gotta ciao now. Cheerio. 

I just cooked myself some crocodile and it was pretty damn good.

So there exists this girl who makes mad decisions when she's on her period. It might be all those hormones or all that bleeding but it sure makes her brain go a little doo-lally. Today, the period-guided adventure has her cooking crazy stuff: crocodile meat.  And let's not forget, referring to herself in third person.

Haw, yes. That'll be me. I have pan-seared some crocodile meat today because I wanted to be an Aussie epicure! Well, not really. I just saw some croc meat for sale in Market Square and realised, hey, I've not tried reptile before so let's do some crazy cooking tonight. 

So I bought some croc, put on my cooking mitts and rolled up my sleeves. And I had myself some crocodile with ginger-lime sauce. It was delish. Tasted like chicken, textured like pork and yet, prepared like fish. A most confusing animal.

You ask: what is gourmet cooking like? It is very meticulous and careful. Pay attention (all the time) and don't go off the mark. I overcooked my croc a little and had to eat some semi-hard and leathery meat. It was actually supposed to be like medium-rare steak, dry on the outside but juicy and moist on the inside. At least the sauce saved it all.

You also ask: what's next after croc? Zebra? Ostrich? REINDEER? Mm, methinks not. Gourmet meat is mucho expensive so after this, I'm gonna have a long talk with my period about having stupid, expensive food ideas. 

By the way, here's the recipe I used. Credits to the original inspiration here.

Crocodile with ginger-lime sauce.

Ingredients (serves 1):

• 100 g crocodile meat, cut into 2 cm cubes
• 10 ml lime juice
• 50 ml chicken stock
• 10 ml honey
• 10 ml brown sugar
• Small knob of ginger, finely diced
• 10 ml olive oil
• Pinch of cornflour
• Salt and pepper to taste

Step #1: Season croc with lime and salt. Leave in fridge for about an hour.

Step #2: As the croc is about to finish marinading, make the sauce. Mix ginger, chicken stock, sugar, honey, cornflour, brown sugar, and lime juice together in a saucepan.  

Step #3: Heat the mixture and bring it to a boil. Then, turn down the heat and simmer for two minutes.  

Step #4: Take out the chillin' croc. Flop it onto a pre-heated pan and cook each side for about 2 minutes. Aim for a medium-rare state because that's the best for its flavour and texture.

Step #5: When done, flop the fillets onto a fancy plate. Drizzle the sauce and garnish with herbs of your choice.

Step #6: Now grab your foodie cam and take photographs. Show off your gourmet achievement to Facebook and Instagram.

Step #7: Eat that mofo. 

Derelict.

Courtyard. 

I think I expressed somewhere, sometime before that I really, really wanted to find an abandoned building to take photos of. There's something about ruin and decay that's attractive. I don't know what it is. Maybe its the loneliness or the forgottenness. But shoop-de-doop, I sure got my wish. 

On a bus ride home a few days ago, I got off early to take an eccentric walk home. I've been unhealthy so I wanted the halfway walk. Somewhere near the cemetery on Ilkestone Road, I passed some double gates that floated open as I walked by. They creaked and I turned my head. 

Well, hello... I thought. And inside, I did wander. 

The gates.

Beyond the gates, I saw a courtyard of the most beautiful mess. Bricks, broken wood and lost things lay among the yellow marigolds. It was a strange dichotomous beauty. There was glass under the soles of my shoes and sprayed paintings everywhere on the walls, like markers. 

The first building had a gaping window. A little high but climbable. It took precise footwork to balance myself over the planks and iron grates that spilled a path up to it. Tragedy would've been a twisted ankle or a rust infection. Maybe even gangrene.

Window.

But I made it. 

The window was a little above my head so I hoisted myself up. Perched on the sill, I could see inside and the interior looked like a home for the homeless. 

A single bed, mattresses and a side table with a lamp. The mess was more incredible than my university bedroom. I wanted to intrude but only rude people and vampires enter homes uninvited. So I snapped one photo for memories and moved on. 

Home.

The second building in the derelict courtyard sat at the back, a single-storey place with nothing fancy on the outside. Flies buzzed at my feet and my legs pushed away the crawling weeds that invaded the foot path to its door. This building was locked and barred, but full of broken windows.

I peeked inside and thought maybe this was a workshop. Or a toolshed. Or a storehouse. It was cleaner and lonelier than the rest, being locked up and all. I pushed the camera through a gap in the iron grills and captured the loneliness inside. Then, I moved on to the last building. 

Workshop.

This one had a doorway that I hesitated to enter. I felt presences inside that I could not see. Ghosts? Spirits? Turns out my sixth sense is more sensitive to the living than the dead because inside, I found druggies shooting up in the furthest room. 

At first glance, I wasn't sure. Then, I saw a shirt being lifted and the next thing I was doing was dashing away for my life. After making 10 metres down the road, I realised that I was in no danger at all because drugged men are surely no Incredible Hulks. 

So I returned and stealthily snapped my photo. Then, in that same whir of adrenalin, hightailed it home so that I could jump on my bed with tea and start Photoshopping my decrepit new pictures.

Furthest room.

Hate and Love

Pink.

The latest COMPANY magazine has pages that smell really really good. So, here I am sniffing them while my hormone levels bounce and fizzle in random Brownian movements. I think it's that time of the month. Yippee aye yay. Because everyone looks forwards to visits from Miss P, right?

Anyway, the photo above was shot somewheres in Bicester Village. Because one Sunday ago, I packed a bag and caught the cheapest coach in the world to meet my aunt who took me out for a day of look-see at aforementioned designer outlet.

So, yes. There I was, in Bicester Village, squinting at the sunshine while breathing in high-class fashion and poshness. I was wearing knee-high socks and my new £15 dress. Plus last year's shawl-thing from Primark.
Half the time, I felt like the old beggar woman from Sweeney Todd because people were decked in nothing less than a Polo.

Moi.

Buuut it wasn't until we sashayed into Vivienne Westwood that I realised 1) my pocket ain't geared for fashion and 2) life ain't fun when your wealth is mediocre. Because, there I held in my hands, this pair of Westwood heels. At 50% off, this could maybe be my newfound baby until I had a gander at that price tag...

And holy mother of Prada... 

A'int nobody affording nuthin' just yet and I kinda spent the rest of the day twirling around the streets of Bicester, doing a Maria von Trapp and singing about brands that I cannot afford.

On the flip side, I got myself some nice shots with a telephone booth and managed to molest some Burberrys and a Max Mara fur coat.

Oh, I also consoled myself  with a £34 Cath Kidston :)

Cousin.

Is Facebook Making You A Narcissist?

So, in 10 seconds or less, name someone (other than grandma) who is NOT on Facebook. Can you? Can you? Cannot le. Well, this goes to show how deeply-rooted Facebook is in our lives.

It is not a bad  thing though. Facebook has been incredibly useful. Not to mention, necessary. Without Facebook, how would we keep in touch, share information and basically stay connected?

That's why when I read this particular article, I found myself going what the fuck? Facebook is turning its users in to narcissists? So that means I'm a narcissist? No way! 

So, I did some extensive research and this is what I found:

Facebook and Narcissism
Based on a user's Facebook habits, psychologists can determine how high/low a user's narcissism level is. So, the more involved you are with Facebook the higher you will score. This means, frequent updating (status and photos alike), tagging, profile checking and amassing ALOT of friends.

One particular research compares Facebook to being equivalent to being a mirror. It allows you to look at yourself from a distance and then choose how you want to be portrayed. In short, it's all about you and showing how you unique/happy/wonderful you are as a person.

"Facebook users tend to be more extroverted and narcissistic but are less conscientious and socially lonely than non–users.

-Tracii Ryan & Sophia Xenos, RMIT University 

Another thing the research has found is that the narcissistic and exhibitionistic type personalities tend to prefer the photos and status updates features of Facebook. Putting 1 + 1 together, I think we can all see where this links to...

"These findings substantiate the proposition that Facebook is particularly appealing for narcissitic and exhibitionistic people. In fact, it could be argued that Facebook specifically gratifies the narcissistic individual's need to engage in self–promoting and superficial behaviour.

Ouch. Having always considered myself an average user of the social network, I found the above research simply preposterous. But they're not totally irrelevant IF you consider how things were pre–Facebook.



"What's On Your Mind?"
I bet you don't realise this but Facebook has NOT even been around for 10 years. Shock-horror. That means less than 10 years ago, an online social life was practically nonexistent. As such, our social circles were smaller and our methods of staying connected were very different.

We talked on the phone, texted and even wrote letters. Precocious Gen Y members might even remember instant messaging on AOL and ICQ (who could forget those?).

With these sort of pre-Facebook amenities, no one would ever consider "I'm having a crumpet" a real update. It was just boring and uninteresting. Then, Facebook came along with its all–updating newsfeed and suddenly, sharing all the little details bounced as a trend.

"It used to be that a status update and the occasional photo was the most we'd share. Now we feel compelled to overshare. We log in on just to mention the random things our children say, the stuff we ate for dinner, how our dog snored in his sleep – myriad details of our infinitely boring lives, that we feel perhaps are worthy of attention. No wonder latest Australian research shows that using [Facebook] bring out the narcissist in us." 

- Saman Shad, journalist

With Facebook, it's difficult to not feel compelled to share. A friend list feels like an audience so there is an inclination to make an impression. What's more, you even get reassurance for it in terms of "Likes" and comments.

A neuroscientist and professor from Oxford University supplies a pretty clear justification of these "crumpet updates":

"Social networking sites can provide a constant reassurance that you are listened to, recognised, and important. It provides this notion that everyone is interested in what you're doing however banal, every minute of the day.

I guess this is why the Australians think Facebook users are narcissistic and exhibitionistic. But I have to ask though, is it really? Or is this just an oversimplification of people and modern culture?

I mean, if "sharing" were really such a bad thing, then why does Facebook prompt us with "What's on your mind?"



Sharing Is Caring

Personally I find the crumpet update pretty pointless but I can also see why people would post about it. It's called sharing. I have a crumpet. The crumpet made me happy so I'm going to express that happiness by telling you about it.

As self–absorbed as that sounds, the bigger question is why am I even sharing in the first place?

 Dr. John Copen of Canada's Psychiatric Association says that we share not because of narcissistic gratification but rather, as a way of reaching out.

"It's the nature of the human to connect," Dr. Copen explains. "It is about sharing common ideas, and that makes you feel healthy, normal and that you fit in."

So does this mean that posting about the crumpet is a call to fit in instead of standing out? To test this, I asked about 20 random users about their reasons for sharing and 67% of the responses received leaned towards social connection over narcissistic gratification.

"I enjoy people's reactions," says Nicholas Huffington, 21. "So I usually post things for discussion because Facebook allows people to say what they would if they were in the same room. I think that's pretty neat."

"I post often about random thoughts or links to interesting things," says Phillipa "Philly" Guinness, 38, a mother of two. "It's mostly to connect with people who I otherwise won't find time or opportunity to talk to."

When asked if she expects responses to what she posts, Guinness provides a very self–aware answer: "Sometimes I expect responses, sometimes not. Certainly not when I post what I'm eating for tea."

I think that pretty much speaks for itself. What seems like self–promotion on Facebook is actually a reflection of a new and open attitude that is more people-oriented over narcissistic.

As psychologist, Song Cheng Ing notices, posting about the crumpet is simply a way of "inviting others to join the inner world of the poster's lives".

It sounds a little unbelievable but consider how disconnected we actually are in real life. Hindered by jobs, time, and distance, how else can we feel closer to our friends if we don't share what we're going through?

"There's a certain charm to status updates like that because they're the little domestic details of our lives. Once upon a time we lived in villages and everybody knew that someone was making soup. Now, we live in isolation. If you look at it positively, these are just ways of alleviating the loneliness and return to a more communal time."

-Hal Niedzviecki, author

I think this dispels the scientific research surrounding Facebook and narcissism. Sharing about the crumpet isn't necessarily narcissism. It merely serves a need for connection.

And being social creatures, we strive to establish links with people in any way possible. In that sense, the old saying would thus be proven true. Sharing is definitely caring.


DISCLAIMER: Interviewee names have been changed.

Shoo-be doo! Shoop shoop be-doo!

And finally!

All assignments are a-handed in. I can finally go out, eat cake and drink champagne -- which I think I shall after a long-deserved rest. You know, it was 5-degrees at 7PM a few days ago and I was in wonderment.

I mean, what is this madness, England? I was made a tuber for 3 assignment-filled weeks so give me decent sun and warmth. If not, my father shall hear about this. Harry Potter reference FTW.

There are more reasons for jubilation too. First, is the completion of my assignments. Second, is a synopsis draft of a novel. A great personal achievement, it has never happened before because I'm very kinda lazy.
Thirdly, Beth and Allie have finalised which design of mine they want as the anthology's cover. No more sweating and no more stressing. HALLELUJAH!

And the greatest: Kristina Adams of Heart of Glass magazine has plans to hook me up with a fashion photoshoot. I am in excitedness! What's an opportunity. My life is so definitely picking up. And without a doubt, I am feeling at my happiest and wittiest and gayest.

A free woman now with no worries and a photojob.

Shakalaka, horse punch!

We Burn Like Daylight

"Tut, dun's the mouse, the constable's own word.
If thou art dun, we'll draw thee from the mire
Or - save your reverence - love, wherein thou stick'st
 Up to the ears. Come, we burn daylight, ho!

-Mercutio, Romeo & Juliet

My birthday was a week ago so this means I am several days into being twenty-two. Seriously. Twenty-two is a strange, stale age to be. You've reached 365-days past the twenty-one accolade and instead of feeling positively older, it feels like withery cabbage, one day off the expiry. You know the feeling. Time has made you a has-been.

Twenty-two for me is that official descent into oldness. From where I am, the descent looks daunting especially because lately, each passing birthday has only reminded me of what I haven't accomplished yet. Why am I so fucking pessimistic? Is it because I'm lacking a chromosome or was one of those babies who were never breastfed?

Well, food for thought -- or lack of, thereof. Pun.

Today's title is a reference to Mercutio's speech from Romeo and Juliet. We burn daylight, says Mercutio to Romeo. We are wasting time. Likewise my life is burning like daylight and so it makes sense that I live it by doing things I can be proud of. Last year, I managed to cross one off the bucket list with published work in Through The Aether and getting a job. This year, I thought I'd expand my accolades...

• I am going to be a free lancer
• I am going to be a better photographer
• I am going to successfully design my university's 2013 anthology

And fingers crossed for the last one, but most important achievement .... a new speed record in Tetris. I am going to beat 2 minutes down to 90 seconds.

Good luck to me.