Sup3rnality

Flower: [about two birds fluttering around] Well! What's the matter with them?
Thumper: Why are they acting that way?
Friend Owl: Why, don't you know? They're twitterpated.
Flower, Bambi, Thumper: Twitterpated?
Friend Owl: Yes. Nearly everybody gets twitterpated in the springtime. For example: You're walking along, minding your own business. You're looking neither to the left, nor to the right, when all of a sudden you run smack into a pretty face. Woo-woo! You begin to get weak in the knees. Your head's in a whirl. And then you feel light as a feather, and before you know it, you're walking on air. And then you know what? You're knocked for a loop, and you completely lose your head!
Thumper: Gosh, that's awful.
Flower: Gee whiz.
Bambi: Terrible!
Friend Owl: And that ain't all. It could happen to anyone, so you'd better be careful.

Twitterpated -
An enjoyable disorder characterized by feelings of excitement, anticipation, high hopes, recent memories of interludes, giddiness, and physical overstimulation which occur simultaneously when experiencing a new love. These feelings take over without warning, usually at odd times (such as at a check-out line), with or without the partner present, and make it difficult to concentrate on anything but romance. They interfere with work and safe driving, but should be experienced at least once in every person's lifetime.

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"Say hello to Bambi. And Thumper and Flower..."

Those were the parting words my mother gave me as we ended our almost 2 hour long conversation. And to anyone who has grown up with Disney cartoons gracing their screens or has at least watched 'Bambi', the word 'twitterpated' would immediately leap to mind.

I finally had that long overdue talk with my mother. And it was that overdue-ness that scared me to no end, wondering why she has kept mum (no pun intended) after she found out about my current status. I was in Shah Alam last weekend, due to having to go to Cyberjaya earlier in the week and because of the tv interview on the following Tuesday (ref: entry 'My Half an Hour of Fame'), because it was just more convenient to be in that vicinity at that particular time. But that also meant that I wouldn't be seeing my parents or siblings over the weekend like I would usually do. So my mother and I resorted to chatting over the phone.

Like I mentioned, I've been worried over why my mother avoided approaching the topic regarding my being with Ash. So many thoughts rushed to my mind... The wondering of perpetual whys and maybes. It drove me mad, her silence. But after long gossiping on the phone about nothing at all, we finally approached the topic. And hearing her talk about it the way we would talk about everything else lifted the burden in me and made me relieved again.

Apparently my mother has been feeling a sense of resentment, which explains her avoidence in all subjects pertaining to my not being single. She may not have realized it at first, but after talking to her friend, she's realized that her melancholy comes from her being depressed that I have a new person in my life. And it straightaway clicked with me, the reason behind her refusal to confide in me her feelings about my relationship.

This has filled me with guilt. The past few weeks I haven't exactly been tolerant and friendly. My fever made me cranky, and on top of that, the fact that I wrecked my phone made me irritable. So I wasn't a fun person to be around, and I guess that didn't help with the news I'd just broken to my mother. She says she feels like she's losing her best friend.

I forget sometimes that I am (nearly) 23. All my mother sees is her daughter growing up and leaving to find herself.

I see now how it seemed to my mother. How I should have eased in to the issue a bit more gradually and at a time when I could, with a sane and clear mind, make her feel more accepting of it. And I am deeply ashamed of myself and so very sorry. Caught up in my own world, I forgot to consider how it would have seemed to other people and especially to the people I care most.

But thankfully, we're ok now, after her coming clean with me, we've cleared the air and all is right again. Except, well, for some new developments that I've just heard. But me and my mother, we're alright, and that means the world to me.

My mother and I, we talked about a whole lot of things. And I've been telling her that 'tis the season (falalalalalalalala~), cos FidZy is now apparently no longer single (which I found out while in the Fairuz's car going back to Shah Alam, and the news left me dumbfounded for a while). Even Iylia has found herself a guy (this would be her first boyfriend, if I'm not mistaken). And I've been hearing about my ex-schoolmates getting hitched. So...I guess it's springtime. Meaning that we're all:

Twitterpated.

Or addlepated.

Maybe both.

I'm amazed by the extent of how much I'm feeling. I don't remember ever feeling the flush of so many emotions at once. I don't remember. I'm a little rusty in this department. It's been so long since. Even then, it was nothing close to being like this. For all the craziness that happen in my life, it's nice to be able to recline at the end of the day talking to Ash and just bask. It's a reprieve. A comfort. And I've been giving myself up to it, so much so I forget that I'm me. Just letting lose and letting myself feel. I've never known this me. I'm still getting used to her. But I like her already. Sometimes I feel like this is the person I am. Just that she's never had the chance to show herself.

So, twitterpated.

And addlepated.

That's what I am.

But I wouldn't give up this feeling for the world. I love you, Ash.

Love, LinZy~

27th May 2008. Tuesday. By right and schedule, I have World Literature in English at 10am with Miss Aishah. But where was I? Not in class, that's for sure. Nope, I was somewhere doing something much out of my character, or usual day-to-day life, even. Where was I at that time? I was at NTV7 studios, having my make-up done in their make-up room, waiting for Fairuz to arrive, while being anxious about being on air in an hour's time.

Yup, I was gonna be appearing on tv. NTV7 to be exact on a show called 'Venus'. Apparently after the stint in Female Magazine, now NTV7 decided they wanted to interview us as well on their daily women's talk show. And what for? What else if not to talk about my obsession, Joss Whedon and his works. All hail Joss. The show was gonna focus on my friend Fairuz and I and our interest in collecting various things, including movie/tv show/music memorabilia among other things. And me, of couse, would be showcasing my Whedonesque collection. From my BtVS/Angel/Firefly action figures to books and comics. I was feeling so damn proud.

So, after my make-up, I was ushered into the sound room or whatever they call it and was hooked up with wires for microphones and such and was brought onto the set. The host/producer. Sariah Wan Jaafar, was gonna interview us instead of their other host, Aishah Sinclair, and we chatted a bit before we went live. Fairuz soon came in and we were both just psyching one another to relax. I swear to God, when the cameramen started counting down to going live, I panicked a while, suddenly forgetting what I was there for and worrying about what I was gonna say, how I was gonna look on tv and how I would sound. But it was all good when it started, and was able to gather my wits and do my thing.

It was all good. I knew my collections through and through. It's not something foreign for me to talk about. I mean, I was talking in my lingo, how hard can it possibly be? So I did my thing. I would say I did rather well. I didn't clam up or get nervous or start babbling...so that's definitely 'well' in my book. Although, Sariah jumped us with the 'do you have a boyfriend' question and what our boyfriend's think about our collectibles. Me, not expecting any of that kind of questions became sweaty all of a sudden and was thinking 'Bloody hell. What do I say?'. I wasn't gonna deny the fact that I'm with Ash but at the same time, I have yet to tell some of my family members about my new status and I don't think they're ready just yet. After a bit of a pause, I said that 'It would remain a mystery' and thankfully we went to commercials so I could regroup.

Heheh...It was all good. I would have liked it if Ash was there but it's ok sayang. You had class and you couldn't afford to miss it. And anyway you were there for me when I had to go to Cyberjaya for the shooting for the cover story at Fairuz's house. I appreciated it lots that you were there with me. Love you.

So, that's one helluva experience. My half-an-hour of fame, I suppose. Hehehe...I should be so lucky. Apparently it costs 30k a person to come on a show like that and we simply got invited. And even more, I got to talk about Joss and promote his work and spread the love. So...that's it. My half-an-hour on live national tv. It was cool. An experience that I wouldn't trade for the world.

Of course, my father being my father (I have no resentment; just some slight exasperation and amusement), he went on about how these things can be dangerous. How there are always people preying on young, 'impressionable' people, luring them with false promises of popularity and such. First of all, I was not attention-hungry when I got into it. I am not one to thrust myself too much into the limelight, I am not comfortable with it. I don't even fancy showbiz. I was just honestly piqued by the idea of promoting Joss Whedon and his works. And also, I didn't just jump into it without really knowing whether it was for real. Besides, I had Ash with me most of the time to keep an eye out. So I did not have to worry.

As for the others? Well, I got a whole bunch of comments and stuff, but all in all good.

Thanks Jasmine for the experience. Ayus for getting us into crazy stuff like this. My sayang, Ash, for the support and company. FidZy for lending me your 'other men' in your life. My mother, my biggest fan. And all you others, friends and family alike for various reasons. It wouldn't have been half as fun without you guys being around.

So here's the clips from the show. I may have seemed anxious, fidgety and concious; but what the heck, it was fun.

PART 1

PART 2

PART 3

Love, LinZy~

~I feel rushed and excited~

Happy one month, love. Although, as you put it, spending time together-wise, it's only been about 15 days. And a very eventful 15 days it has been... Heheh. Well, here's to a month, and for many many more to come.

Love you.

Love, LinZy~

Today's the 11th of May, 2008. Mother's Day. And I'm determined to put into words everything that I feel when it comes to my mother. But the words get lost in the din. There are too many things to say and too little words to describe her with. And I doubt that ever, even if again and again I read through the dictionary, would I ever be able to do justice in explaining my mother. So here's (again) I'm posting up an entry I wrote some years ago on Mother's Day that encompasses what I feel for her. It was relevant then, and is still relevant now as it will always be.
So here it is, Happy Mother's Day, Ibu.

I love you more than words would ever be able to express.

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“I don’t think I’ll ever be…”

This, I quietly I whispered hoarsely to myself. My voice breaking, struggling to reign in the raging emotions in me; I steadied myself, gathering up all my courage to turn to the owner of the voice who just asked me:

“Ready?”

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It was the 25th May 2003; my suitcases were packed and ready to be loaded up into the car, my clothes were laid out, ready to be donned, and myself? I wasn’t ready; I don’t think I ever will be.

My clothes were in a suitcase, another bag was stuffed with pillows and a blanket, and in another bag I had some miscellaneous knick-knacks. On my bed I had a white baju kurung and a white tudung, ironed nicely and laid out. But they sat there forlorn at one corner of my room, while I at the other, stared into space, a kaleidoscope of emotions fogging my vision.

I was finally there. I have been waiting for that moment; the moment when I no longer had to be dictated into pouring my time and energy into learning things I hadn’t half the mind for. I’ve had it with centralized exams, that judges your achievement based on what you memorized rather than understood. I was finally leaving all that.

I got accepted, of course. Just like I knew I would, into the University of my choice to take the subject I have long yearned for. I could not contain my excitement.

And yet, there were things that caused such a stir in my mind that it hurt to think of it. But still, I knew there was no running from it, and sooner or later, I’d have go through it—

I had to leave my mother.

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My mother had always been the voice of my sanity, my rock that held me down. She understood me even when I didn’t want to be. She forgave me even when I didn’t earn it.

My mother is my life, and for 18 years, I’ve never left her side.

Home is where the heart is, and my heart had always been with my mother. When I see her, it’s like being at home. All my troubles flee, and I can be myself, without having to fear the world.

She wipes my tears when I cry, she listens when I have to let it out, she holds me when I feel insecure, she remains my friend when others leave my side.

My life is filled with her. I was the only child for 10 years and was lonely most of the time. I did not like going out; so my mother and I entertained each other.

As I grew older, she became more than just my mother. She was the friend that never judged, the older sister I didn’t have, the girlfriend I gossiped with, and the mother that embodied all that I need.

Most days were spent with her and me going out, just to have a drink, to shop, just to drive around; just for the sake of enjoying each other’s company.

She’s just as she is, perfect; she’s my mother, and I love her to the very core of my soul.

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Years have past since that day, when I had I knew it was time to step out from under her wing to learn how to make my own shelter. Remembering the feeling, the knowledge that I had to leave her I can still remember until today.

I knew I wasn’t going to leave her permanently. It wasn’t like I was moving away and that I wouldn’t see her in years or perhaps never again. But what I knew was that, I was another step closer to when I’d actually have to leave her. I was another step closer to the life that I had to build on my own.

I saw it in her eyes when I held her before I had to leave, I saw how much she wanted me to be that young girl again whom she could pick up in her arms and protect. But I was no longer that little girl. Maybe I still am, but that little girl had to find herself, explore the world outside of the safety of her mother’s arms.

But I couldn’t cry. Not with her looking on, hoping to see me brave my way to a new future. No, I had to be strong. I could not cry. I would not cry.

But—

I remember crying that night; I remembered how she sent me message after message telling me she loved me and how much she missed me. I remember wanting to be there with her to tell her it’s alright and that I’ll be alright. I remember how hollow I felt, how I felt so lonely.

I could still feel her arms around me, hugging me tight. Her voice wavering, trying to keep it together even when I knew she was about to break. Her eyes betrayed the brave front she put on, her eyes looking straight into me, conveying to me just how she wished we had more time to have fun, without the inevitable future looming in on us.

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I remember that day as if it were yesterday. On this day, Mother’s Day, I feel it the most. Especially with her not by my side, but on the other end of the country.

These days I wish I cherished those days gone by more. I tell her that I love her more. I wish I was young again more. I wish I could be next to her and take care of her more.

These days, when she’s not close to my side, I wish I was a little girl again.

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“Ready?”

My mother asked me on the 25th of May 2003, taking one of my bags to help me bring them down to the car.

My emotions dangerously bubbled at the surface, I muttered to myself the answer I felt in my soul. Oh God, I never will be ready. You can ask me a million times over at any point in my life, I’d never be ready to leave my mother.

But turning slowly to face her, I put on a brave face­—for her. Steeling myself, I turned to her with a smile that belied everything that I felt. I said:

“I’m ready.”

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Also, Happy Mother's Day to Mom. My other mother. Who was there when I grew up just as much as my own mother. We might not share the same bond, but you're my mother nonetheless. Love you, Mom.


Love, Lin/Ayin~

It's burning bright. So tentalizingly bright. I'm blinded, short-sighted by the light. Nothing on my left or anything on the right. Nothing else in sight. There is just me and the burning firelight.

This dance is painfully slow. And yet the rhythm blurring fast. It's hard to keep up. It's difficult to stay with the beat. We are on this dancefloor, and I do not know which way to move my feet.

Is this the junction from which I turn? Do I go straight, or shall I just burn?

I'd love to stay and dance the night on. But the hour's 12, and I promised my return. I'd run down the steps, virtue all a-flutter. But I'd leave on your steps my lone glass slipper.

A little now, but with a promise of later. Don't worry, I have the other slipper.

Baby, I'm a moth to a flame. Tempted by the burning candlelight. I'll stay for this number, but I need to leave before midnight.

Love, LinZy~

I'm calling this part of my life: Awakening.

And the reason? The sleeper is waking up, and she's peering curiously yet cautiously into the blinding daylight. She breathes in early morning breeze and soaks in the morning light onto her skin. But wait, the morning was too early then, late into the wee hours of the darkness. But she
felt it on her skin, the morning's dew blanketing the otherwise bare.

Love, Linzy~