So You Wanna Go to Japan?

Hey readers,

I haven’t written a post like this in a long time. So here goes:

You’re fascinated by the porn anime from Japan, you can’t live without sushi, you like Jpop, you have your own Japanese name and you have your very own Kimono for cosplay purposes.

You also desperately want to go to Japan.

So instead of visiting Bon Odori every year (and getting a free paper fan, which is what I do)

You can instead choose to study in Japan.

It doesn’t matter if the only Japanese word you know is arigato. It doesn’t matter if you don’t even know where Japan is on the world map. All you have to do is sign up for Uniten’s AJL Program, which offers scholarships for Malaysians to pursue further studies in Japan.

I think this whole study-in-Japan-thingy is quite cool, so I’m just spreading the word out to all you Japan-fans out there. We have SAM (Australia), we have ADP (America) and now we have AJL (Japan).

They only offer this to a small number of students though, so it’s very limited. If you want to study in Japan, better act quickly!

For more information, you can visit this page.

Arigato!

Nigel

What I did in 2009

Alright guys, recap time. I’ve been waiting to write this post for a long time now. It’s in chronological order, I hope.

- Got out from Chong Hwa. Best decision I’ve made in my life. No offense, but I didn’t like it there. I won’t write why here, for fear of controversy. Ask me in private. =P
- Contact lenses!
- Taylors! Amazing college with some of the most amazing and ambitious people. Very nice experience. Too bad it only lasted 6 months.
- Formed a film club.
- SPM results.
- Made PJ my hang out spot.
- Various gatherings and outings and meet-ups and dates and any-other-term-which-means-hanging-out.
- Attended scholarship interviews. The Sime Darby one was fun.
- Rock climbed for the first time!
- Became more sociable.
- Made new friends.
- Dated.
- But didn’t work out.
-  Started to know which clothes were chic, and which ones weren’t. Needless to say, my wardrobe got a total revamp. Scarves, cardigans, jackets, blazers, caps…
- Worked on a friend’s short film. Composed music for it.
- Pubs!
-  Got the JPA scholarship. Left Taylors, went to UNITEN.
- Learnt tennis.
- Finally got a decent sense of direction. I’m not so dependent on my GPS anymore.
- Got my Grade 8 piano certificate.
- Got rid of the so-called “Chong Hwa” look.
- Formed a band.
- Became the lead singer for it.
- Took the SAT 1, SAT 2 and TOEFL.
- Attended church. Twice only though.
- University Applications. It was hard work, but I enjoyed writing some of the essays. Thanks to my blog, ideas come quite easily. Hopefully I’ll get admission. Fingers crossed.
- Learnt how to pronounce the “th” consonant. Before this, I used to pronounce “breath” as “breF”, “thank” as “tank”. Haha.
- Furniture shopping. It is fun!
- Moved to Semenyih. Shall write about how far it is from civilization in a future post.
- Had some emotional moments before the move.
- Had a really nice Christmas.
- Set up my own home studio in my new house. Pictures coming soon.
- Attended a New Year’s Eve countdown for the very first time. At the end of the day, I was drenched.

I think that’s all, though I know I must have missed out some important stuff. Do tell me. So what have you guys done in 2009? I’d love to know.

I must say 2009 was one of the nicest years of my 18-year life so far. Hopefully 2010 will be just as fulfilling!

PS. Motifs and Muses is gonna be two years old!

Nigel

I am moving.

I bet many of you already know this, but for those who don’t: I’m moving. And since I’m tired of people asking me the same old questions, here is a little FAQ.

-What?
Yes, I’m moving.

-Where to?
I’m moving to Semenyih, leaving friends, foes and treasured memories behind. This was the first time I felt so sad when I had to move, partly because I think I grew really attached to my current house. It knows me too well. It saw all the things I did behind its doors. It grew up along with me.

-When?
December 20^th. And I couldn’t bear myself to look at the calendar. For every time I look, that date seems to creep closer. Time should pass slowly when you’re having a bad time. But why is it the opposite in this case?

-Why?
A reason which includes  parents, rural areas, money, relatives and avoiding the hustle and bustle of the city.

-How?
I don’t care if they used lorries or trucks. They can move the boxes and sofas, but nothing can move my heart.

-Who?
I wished I could ask everyone I knew to move with me. But sadly, it’s only my family.

-How much does your new house cost?
Many, many trips to IKEA and many, many memories.

-So how do you feel about the move?
Let’s just put it this way. I used to love going to IKEA. Now I detest it, as I know trips to IKEA will only make my current home more and more of a distant memory. Fancy furniture doesn’t please me anymore.

So that’s it folks. I’m gonna move away to Semenyih. I may be unhappy now, but I’m sure I’ll adapt in no time. I’m sure this experience will help me when I go overseas. A new phase in my life is about to begin! =)

PS: I will be uploading pictures once I taken some. It’s quite a nice house I think. Just a tiny bit far from the city. And as a city dweller, well it’s going to be something I need to get used to.

The Interviewer

There she was again, sitting in front of her desk, waiting for another hopeful to appear. Twirling her pen, she looked down upon the applicant’s impressive CV. Turns out the applicant had exceptional grades, participated in lots of extra-curriculur activities, won awards she has never heard of and even volunteered at a local hospital. It was so well written that she could almost feel the pride that student felt when he finished typing his resume.

But weren’t all of these resumes impressive? The whole bunch of prospective students dress themselves up with godly Curriculum Vitae (CV) and glowing teacher’s reviews. If you never knew the applicant in person, you would think every one of them was a talented young invidual, the new star of tomorrow. From presidents to athletes, from debators to musicians, she has seen them all. Never was there one who said humbly that he was just a normal student. It was as if everyone were under layers and layers of makeup, and you need to slowly remove them to see who he or she truly was.

That’s where the interview comes into play.

Throughout the years, she has broken down those so-called presidents, athletes, debators and musicians. That was her skill. She had an exceptional ability to pick up certain weak spots in what someone was saying and magnify the error, rendering all the talented newcomers speechless or even stuttering. The cynical side of her quite enjoyed looking at the shocked expression on their faces when they run out of things to say, while her compassionate side felt a slight tinge of pity for them. At this point, the applicant will be stripped naked of everything; no more good grades to help, no more leadership positions to his rescue. And this is when she leans back into her chair, puts down her pen and crosses her arms.

But once in a while, there will be this highly proficient conversationalist who comes along. Working as an interviewer for so many years, she can almost always sense one. They all possess a certain charismatic quality about them. The conversation feels genuine; all the pretence and haughtiness will be thrown out the window. This kind of interviewees are not afraid to be stripped naked of their appraisal letters. Rather, they welcome the challenge and respond with such an amazing touch of grace and elegance that blows her away. With every sentence made, her head will be nodding subconciously. The minutes will fly by and before she knew it, she has been throughly charmed by the applicant. That it should happen more often has always been a wish of hers.

There was someone knocking on her office door. It was time again. She put on a smile and said, “Come in.”

To All Chonghwa-rians Who Just Graduated:

Hey guys, you have just finished slogging through 6 years of hard work. I congratulate you! So sorry I couldn’t attend the graduation party, I had some tests I needed to sit for. That’s why I’m writing about it now, just to make up for it. =)

I see the pictures my friend Joel posted on his blog, and it seems like graduation went well. There’s a problem with photos though, as you can only see the surface. You can’t truly LIVE the experience. You don’t know the emotion roller coaster the people in the photos are going through; you can only try to decipher the feelings behind every smile, behind every laugh.

All that being said, brace yourselves for life outside of high school. It is where all the FUN starts! Under every square mortar board (the graduation hat) lies an individual who thirsts for freedom and wants to experience the world. There is no better time to start than now.

Nigel

The Allergy

A few weeks ago, I woke and found some reddishness around my upper lip. Not only that, but my lips were also dry. For the pessimistic, it may be cancer munching away at my healthy body cells. For the optmist, it’s just a little allergy.

Just a little allergy.

This phrase has been used too much in life. You see your friend having a pimple breakout, and she says “Oh it’s just my little allergy to peanuts”. Or you could see an old man gasping for his last breath saying “Help, I forgot I’m allergic to alcohol!” The effects of allergies vary so greatly that sometimes you never really know what’s going to happen to you.

And like all other allergy sufferers, I knew that I had to do something about it. 5 minutes later, I was at the local pharmacy, looking to buy some cream. The pharmacist was an attractive young lady. Upon giving me a quick glance, “Oh, it’s eczema! Use this,” she said, handing me a steroid cream.

I looked at the little box which says “Dermapro Ointment – For Eczema”. Not convinced, I mentioned that it could just be an allergy.

“Just use it, and tell me if it doesn’t work. Have a good day!” Such was the attention-span of the modern day pharmacist.

In many ways, I see using cream to cure your allergy similar to using mints to cure your bad breath; it’s only a temporary palliative that soothes, but doesn’t cure. You can take the whole box of mints in one go, but the person kissing you will still know you had cheese and lasagna for lunch.

The Mannequin

I’m not really that different from the walking creatures you call humans. It’s just that I’m white, and my eyes lack irises. Before I was sent out to shops, my siblings told me that life as a mannequin isn’t tough at all. All you got to do is stand there for a couple of years, then your owners will replace you with newer, whiter mannequins, and that will be the end of you.

                Very soon I found out who my owner was. Not only that, she also gave me a name. I stood under a big sign which says “Dorothy Perkins”.

                I guess you can call me Dorothy. Everyone calls me that. Especially those little teenage girls that walk past the shop and shriek, “Oh Em Gee it’s Dorothy Perkins!” And who can blame them? For I’m attractive and pretty,  fairer than the fairest of damsels, more proportionate than the most svelte of models! In fact, all I have to do is strike a cool pose, and everyone will come running.

                And then there was this other thing. When I was first placed in this spot, my owner dressed me up with great thought. She spent a long time thinking what to put on me: A blouse or a shirt? No, no, that doesn’t look good. How about a cardigan? My naked body was soon filled with raiment of all kinds, not to mention some very exotic jewelry. I felt very proud indeed.

                There was this one time, where I saw a teenage girl who dressed exactly like I did. Same top, same bottom, same everything. I nicknamed her Little Dorothy. Undoubtedly, she was my fan. The first time she saw me, I saw a faint look of intrigue on her face. That intrigue soon turned to surprise and wonder. Inside my plastic exterior, I smiled. I could have sworn that she saw a little twinkle in my eyes for when I did so, she smiled back. However, deep down inside, I knew she would never grow to be as pretty as I. She was just a stupid human being, while I’m a model of perfection.

                Girls love to gossip, and I was no exception. Tired after work, I would gather around my fellow mannequins  and listen to the latest gossip, for it always contains some interesting bits. Once, they mentioned that there will be a new clothing store moving in opposite to us. I was elated! (Right now, the store opposite sells undergarments, which makes me feel really uncomfortable).

                “I heard he’s from America!”

                “I heard he’s a designer!”

                “I heard his name is Calvin!”

                True enough, his name was Calvin. Calvin Klein, to be exact. He was good looking, possessing a strong jawline, a muscular body and firm abs to boot. It was also all because of him that all the mannequins in my store looked more attractive: they wanted to get Calvin’s attention.

                People never talked about Dorothy Perkins soon after that. Now, everyone looks at Calvin, nods his (or her) head, and goes into that shop. A few minutes later, they would emerge with shopping bags labeled “CK” in front of them. I’ve always wondered what is that supposed to mean. Chinese Kung-fu?

                Nobody looks at poor Dorothy now. Nobody. Not even my fan, Little Dorothy. This feeling is like seeing your best friends getting date after date while you stand aside, making way for them. But what’s so great about Calvin Klein anyway? All he wears  are suits, suits and suits again. I also know his little secret: he never wears his underwear!