Recycled Post

I would like to thank my twin sister, Arulselvi for reminding me of the essay to be submitted today. Then, I would like to thank Anna for her heroic rescue in suggesting ways for me to copy an essay. Last but not least, my father for presenting me an essay to be handed in a day after his birthday.

I'm sorry Pn. Jothi for plagiarizing my own blog to come up with this simple-yet-hard-to-do essay.

SOMEONE IDEAL THAT INFLUENCED MY CAREER AS A FUTURE TEACHER

It is the time of the year again where we will light up the candles on the cake to celebrate my father's birthday. My father is fifty-four years old but nothing reminds him of his old age, not even his hair.

My father used to call me a big devilish head because of my intense habit to make both my sister and brother cried. Fortunately, that habit was brought to a halt with my loss of innocence but reminiscing about my teenage days made me missed being a big bully, launching rubber wars with my siblings. Back then, I threw erasers until they hit their foreheads. They retaliated back by teaming up and stone me with all the erasers they had. When they lose, they used the most powerful weapon of all which is no other than their annoying cries that made my father warned me to be what a 'big sister' supposed to be.

Without my father, I would not be here in University of Malaya, studying the hardest text ever which is the Shakespearean play. I used to be a very weak student. I hid my exam papers occasionally from my mom when they were marked with an ugly B or C because she was like the fiery monster scolding me from top to toe, comparing me with her colleagues' children. My father, on the other hand, would always be there to take my report card, strategize a way for me to improve by leaps and bounds. He always tell me, "Ah Chin, one step at a time. Now you must catch up with Chee Ee Van and work your way up okay?"

Sometimes the things you learnt when you were little are put into practice until this fateful day. My father is the epitome of an ideal teacher who had taught me about the ways of life. Being who I am today is definitely nothing to be proud of because I am not making people awed with a white uniform. I will be a teacher clad in what everyone would wear, humble enough in my ways to make students come to me so that I am able to teach them not only English but also share with them the ways of life like what my father has taught me.

Happy Birthday, Papa!!!

This post is specially dedicated to my very handsome, loving, caring and heroic father.

I love you so much and these words with 26 alphabets and a few syllables aren't enough to wrap up what I feel in my heart. I'm having stuffy nose but no teary eyes this time around when write this to you. Are you by my side when I type this? You'd probably be laughing out loud seeing me typing, deleting a whole line of sentence, retyping the same sentence again. This is specially for you, papa.

.....O.....O.....O.....O.....O.....O.....O.....O.....O.....O.....O.....O.....O.....O...

It's the time of the year again where we would light up the candles on the cake to celebrate my father's birthday. My father is 54 years old today but nothing reminds him of old age, not even his hair. He is endowed with jet-black hair, without 1 strand of grey hair when I last saw him.

My father calls me big devil head cuz of my intense habit to make both my sister and brother cry. I don't do that now but I miss the occasion when I was being a big bully carrying out rubber (erasers) war with my siblings. Back then, I threw erasers until it hit their foreheads, they retaliated by teaming up and stoned me with their 2 pencil cases of erasers. When they lose, they used the most powerful weapon of all-- their cries that made my father warned me to be what a 'big sister' supposed to be.

Without my father, I would not be here in UM, taking up TESL, studying the hardest text and that is none other than Shakespeare. I used to be a very weak student and I occasionally hid my exam papers from my mom when I got a B or a C cuz my mom was like the fiery monster scolding me from top to toe, comparing me with whatshisname or whatshername and pinch me on my ear or my waist. My father on the other hand, would always be there to take my report card, strategize a way to work my way up. He always tell me, "Ah b, 1 step at a time. Now you must catch up with Chee Ee Van and work your way up, okay?" Voila, I am in UM while Ee Van is somewhere in Kuantan I think.

We have been through so much. I take pride that you're my father. I look up to you for moulding me to be what I am today.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, PAPA! I'm sorry that I can't be with mommy, may may and didi to celebrate your birthday this year.

I can still remember your joke. You told me when you grow old, you will hold my hand, walk on the street and tell people around you that you have a young girlfriend. I will be in Jaya One today to buy you a cake. You can tell your friends that is your young girlfriend today because that is what birthday boy gets. They get their wishes come true :) Yeah, you're a birthday boy cuz you're always young at heart :P

HAPPY BIRTHDAY AGAIN and you're 54.

A Challenge for Myself

The trip to Genting Highland was undoubtedly a compensation for my tiresome days in campus. I got to breathe many breaths of clean, cooling, invigorating air, I played rounds of stuffs that children will play like Merry-Go-Round, the jet that went round and round, I experienced the thrill of Space Shot and all these were made possible with around RM100.

Enough with the elaboration already and now I am being pulled down to Earth with the gravity of money crisis. I am ashamed to say this but I only have Rm100 in my bank account and I am even more ashamed to ask money from my mom.

I hereby challenge myself to use my RM100 wisely to survive for 10 days.

I am going to fill up my stomach with instant mee at least for 1 meal a day.
I am going out only for lectures, meals and college activities.
I am going to set aside RM25 for the fee of our Chinese Community membership.
I am going to set aside RM15 for Pesta Tanglung UM's T-shirt.
I am going to set aside RM20 for the dance troupe camp.

I seriously don't know how I am going to survive these 10 days with RM40 for my meals. I shouldn't have gone to Genting in the first place. I'm in deep regret and in a deep shit!

I love me, myself and I

I am not a Peeping-Jane but I really love to stare at guys secretly because some of them are worth my attention. This doesn't make me a paedophile or a nymphomaniac because as the matter of fact we all gaze. Guys love gazing at beautiful girls with slender body and girls love to gaze at guys with well-toned body. According to the theory of objectification,the person we are gazing at is objectified whose sole value is to be enjoyed or to be possessed by the voyeur but I am not a voyeur. I am just s new fan of the gaze theory.

If I see a cute guy somewhere in the campus, I look at him then happily tell my friend who is with me that he is cute and that is the end to it. I don't leave my friends to follow the cute guy around the campus to stalk him so that I can have a longer moment to stare at him. In fact, I think I stare at myself in the mirror more than I look at any other guys.

I think I love to objectified myself. I think I myself is the object of my own pleasure and enjoyment. I am a voyeur to my own image because I would go to the bathroom in the wee hours, say 6am to gaze at myself from top to toe until I am completely mesmerized with my own look. I tend to stare at myself for 5 minutes long in the bathroom observing the brownish colour of my hair, my eyebrow, my eyes, my own posture, waist and everything. I know I am obsess with myself.

I think I am beautiful until the haze hit Petaling Jaya. With the hazardous air I am breathing in, the dust that stick onto my face whenever I walk out from my room, the 1 litre of water I am drinking and the food that I am taking are seriously taking a toll on my skin.

I am having breakouts but I can't upload the picture here because of the defective bluetooth I am having in my lappy.

So, I uploaded the picture of me when I was in my 1st year in University of Malaya.



I have a bad skin complexion yeah? But who cares, I am still good-looking!