A Victim of Circumstance

The irony. I'm supposed to go on a fantastic holiday to Sydney and Canberra. See the states. Have made plans to hook up with various friends. Not just my Petronas friends, but Ormond people who are going to be in Sydney as well. I was looking forward to it. Sort of.

I'm supposed to go to Canberra and meet up with Tengku, who I kinda miss. I haven't seen him for ages. Meet up with Sam, who's going to drive me down from Sydney. Meet up with Hugh, who I'm already missing, and hang out with him on his home turf. I was excited about the possibilities.

It was going to be one huge party. I was excited. I was going to paint the town red. Meet up with old friends and new friends. Explore the cities, and for once, the nightlife.

Then the fatigue hit. The idea of spending a week doing absolutely nothing seemed more appealing. Lounging around on Picken Lawn, sketching or reading a book and taking advantage of Melbourne's short spell of good weather. Getting to know the other guys in Ormond a bit better, spending more time with people I've only started to get to know. Admittedly, there were certain incentives for staying. Being able to play the piano at leisure without the company of other people's curious ears. Laidback nights playing Settlers of Catan. Complete run of the college. Admittedly, the possibility of more late night conversations with him, a repeat of Friday's incidence. And as nerdy as it sounds, a chance to actually catch up on work.

Tickets were booked and paid for, and promises had been made though. I resigned myself to going and tearing up the town. It would still be a good holiday.

Then, news struck. A close friend from Perth would be coming down on the same dates I would be gone. I cannot believe it. A guy I could've sworn who would have never come to Melbourne suddenly mentions that he was going to be down. I was looking forward to playing tour guide should he ever come. And he's coming as I leave.

#1 is returning as I leave.

#2 is leaving as I come.

'Tis but a cruel twist of fate. There are sometimes circumstances I wish I could change. But I can't. I can't change the way I feel. And I can't change the fact that I don't physically have enough time to do all the things I want to do. I can't control my emotional responses. Those are primitive, and instantaneous. I can't control the actions of others.

The only thing I can control is the way I choose to react. And I choose to forget every damn issue I don't have any control over and make the most of my holiday. It's going to be good. :)

Events of A Hectic Week

Everyone else is on holiday. Ormond College is incredibly empty at the moment. It's strange, going from 320 people around college, where a large majority are people I have learnt to know and love, to a mere 30-40 people. A smaller community. I'm so frustrated about the fact that I have an extra week of class while everyone else has started their blessed holidays. I want a break.

I definitely made up for the anticipation of everyone leaving by cramming everything into the past 6 nights. Chris asked me to accompany him for the Magoos footie dinner, which was interesting. It's nice to know we have this safety net among us. Good friends make good dates for events where it's necessary to have a date but you don't exactly want to ask someone to. It was slightly strange, because it was black tie. That part itself wasn't that strange, the strange bit was the fact that it was held in the local pub. Black tie in a pub. Hmm. The awards presented to team players were unique, to say the least. Greg's 'Off-Field Achievement' was presented because of how he involved the whole footie team in a brawl. And I've got to admit to biting back a smile when they presented the 'Cunt of the Year' award. Interesting times.

Wednesday night was the Bursary River Cruise, or more affectionately called the Booze Cruise. I loved the 'Heaven or Hell' theme. I love the effort people put into the night, dressing up and getting into the spirit of things. It's one of those things that rarely happens in Malaysia, only because people get incredibly conscious about what others say about them. One of the attractions of having a party on a boat is the sheer contrast of it all.

Inside, the music is loud and pumping, the atmosphere definitely uptempo. There's happily tipsy people having a good time, the devils and the angels mixing it up on the dancefloor, the loud chatter over the music, the happy snaps... Then one step outside and there's the quiet night air, and laidback conversations on the deck, and the peaceful ripples of the river as the boat cruises down. The pictures definitely tell it all.

Thursday night was Ivor's birthday.. He reminds me a little of a thirty year old trapped in an eighteen year old's body. Other than his maturity, his whole demeanor and tastes run more towards more mature individuals. Expensive tastes, this boy. And he reeks of class as well. There's one thing an individual can't duplicate - class. Some people have it and some don't.

I thought I would use Friday to catch up on some sleep, but it turned out that James' asked us over to his place. He's got this awesome house in the suburbs, and we just chilled out on his roof. I kept thinking how awesome it would be to have a party up on the roof. Lots of pizza, some good music, great weather, and there was even a barbecue grill up there!

By the time I got back I was pretty tired, but then I ran into some other people in the Common Room and ended up there for the rest of the night. Apparently they had been playing drinking games earlier. As things usually tend to progress, the topic turned to sex and relationships. And when the question went around about everyone's first experience, I just shrugged it off, telling them I had never even kissed a guy.

It was funny to see their reactions, ranging from shock to disbelief. I suppose therein lay one of the core differences between both of cultures, and religion as a whole. Despite my liberal viewpoints, and staying in a community where vices occasionally become the norm, the fact that I still hold on to my beliefs can seem strange to an outsider. Everybody assumes that everyone goes through the same experiences, and indulges in the same activities. In my case, everyone I know probably assumes that I've go through the whole drunken, hooking up she-bang just because I take part in all the activities and just because of the people I hang out with.

I don't think they could even comprehend never having being kissed before.

Adrian asked "Why not?"

My answer was, "Why?"

Despite my close relationships with my male friends, I've always kept certain boundaries. I've always found it easier to get along with guys. I've also found it equally easy to set certain boundaries, which my male Caucasian and Australian friends keep to. I don't quite see the appeal of hooking up with some drunken guy at a smoko, or anywhere else, despite how easy it is. It's a strong part of my religion and culture to guard my modesty. Granted, there are certain guys whose physical attraction plays on temptation. Nevertheless, lust is reined in by rationality. Physicality between a man and woman seems much too intimate to simply go through without proper thought and ultimate trust, even if it wasn't for religion, and both factors aren't earned lightly.

Strangely enough, once I admitted my lack of experience, every guy in the room was immediately interested in being my so-called 'first', to my amusement. It just reinforced my beliefs in the truth behind the rules of religion. Physical intimacy is such a precious thing, and Islam prohibiting physical intimacy between sexes until matrimony just celebrates how incredibly special that bond is between a man and a woman. Sharing a first with your partner just strengthens the bonds between both individuals, and emphasizes the trust issues in the relationship.

In today's day and age, and seeing the attitudes of a totally different culture, there seems to be so little value attached to physical interactions. It's so easy to get drunk, and pick up, and something so casual between the kisses shared between two people. It's not my place to judge the way other people go about satisfying their physical needs. That's up to them.

I may be old fashioned but I believe in sharing experiences with someone I truly love.

I may be controlling but as far as first experiences go, mine will be on my terms.

Friends of Friends

It was a nice surprise when Cristina spent the week here. She had come down from Canberra to spend her semester break with Hugh in Melbourne, and after hearing so much about Hugh's infamous girlfriend, it was nice to finally get acquainted. I wasn't disappointed.

She turned out to be the nicest character ever. Every single thing I've heard about her from Hugh wasn't just the adoration of a loving boyfriend. On contrary, she was sincerely friendly. One of those people who really wanted to make an effort to get to know people. Sometimes, hearing the accounts of an individual's character from a close friend makes you feel as if you know them well. However, it's one thing to hear a verbal account and meet the individual in person.

As we go through our lives, we make new friends. The different paths we take bring us to different people. Individuals who have a past we sometimes have no idea about and friends who we may never meet, but hear about. And sometimes, our separate circles of friends meet, with only two individuals as connections to both circles.

It's always difficult being the middle person meeting friends of friends. Difficult in a way, because you've heard so much about them without actually having the opportunity of meeting them face to face. There's less anonymity, the whole phase of getting-to-know trivial things is totally removed from the equation. It's an awkward phase, because one never knows how much the other person knows about you, and one's never sure which path of conversation to take. Then there's always the possibility of a personality clash, which makes it hard for the friend of the person involved. Not always are we lucky enough to have old friends mesh with new friends, and if both parties clash, it makes it harder for the person in the middle.

It so wasn't like that with Cristina. Hugh is a lucky man. And she, in turn, is lucky to have him. They work incredibly well as a couple, and I find myself hoping that their future together will be bright. It was one of those rare occurences that I find myself getting on incredibly well with one of my closest friend's significant other.

It's surprising how little you know about your friends sometimes. Some things just never have the opportunity to come up in casual conversation, and isn't just the type of everyday topic you talk about. At the Student Club Dinner, I found out a lot more about my friends' lives. Things that I never knew about. Some good, some bad.

I learnt that Cristina was struck by a stroke last year, and had to do rehabilitation for a year. I would have never guessed just looking at her that she had slight paralysis on her right side. She has amazing spirit for someone so young. She overcame the effects of the stroke and continued on with her life.

I learnt that a friend of mine was undergoing depression. She felt worthless, as if no one loved her at all. Her mother died when she was at a young age and she refused to see her father after, and spent the rest of her life flitting between her mother's friends and living off welfare. Independent. She is one of the most beautiful, sweetest and most caring people I've met, yet she's also one of the most insecure when she lets her guard down.

I learnt that another of my friends was a complete jerk when it came to his relationships with women. Fuck them and leave them, for all that it was worth. I have no right to judge, because his decisions are his, and what I learnt came from the accounts of shattered lovers, but my estimation of him dropped a little that night.

I learnt that Hugh stayed with Cristina through the stroke. Supported her. Consoled her when she was insecure about herself. Realised the extent of his obvious affection, and if I might even dare say it, love for her. His patience with her inexhaustible love for shopping. He's stayed faithful to her, despite all that's happened when he moved to Melbourne.

Knowledge doesn't necessarily change friendships. But it can change the way you look at your friends. Change the levels of respect you have for them. It's all part in the intricate web of life, I suppose.

Butterflies and Hurricanes

My ears are still ringing. The adrenaline rush is still keeping me on my feet, although barely. And I can't wipe this stupid grin off my face, neither can I stop singing along to the haunting lyrics of Endlessly. That had to be the best concert of my life.

Nevermind we had to walk halfway in the rain to get to the Melbourne Festival Hall. Liz and I were so excited, we were bouncing with excitement. It seems to be the custom with concerts that one should arrive at least an hour earlier than the times stated on tickets; when we rocked up we joined a 5 metre long line, and that was only through one of the doors. I was apprehensive finding out that we would be body checked, and I really wanted to smuggle in my camera. There was no way in hell I wanted to walk into that concert hall without a camera. Never mind the fact that the ticket very clearly stated that no cameras were allowed.

The opening band was good enough to get me in the mood for a good, old rock concert, although they made the cardinal sin of playing for much too long than they should have. Still, I was right up front. Hanging on one row behind the rail. I could see almost everything, when I angled my head between the gaps of the tall people in front of me. I could feel the excitement radiating from everyone around me; exchanging conspiratorial grins with neighbouring fans and joining in happily with all the chanting that ensued.

We were all getting a bit impatient.. and then Muse arrived. Chaos erupted. God, they were so much better than they were on the CDs. They are the most amazing band live. I couldn't stop singing along to the songs I knew at the top of my lungs, oblivious to the people surrounding me, moshing along and totally rocking out with the band. I am at a loss for words to describe the night.

It was the wildest crowd I've ever been in though. The audience was insane; I was swept along in the huge seething mass of humanity, caught in the surge of mad fans clamouring to get closer, jumping up and down between the sweaty bodies in the crowd, trying not to lose my balance. And the band itself? I'm speechless. They are an amazing band to see live. They sound exactly the way they sound on their CDs, only better. And Matt Bellamy's voice is amazing. I don't know how he sings the way he does, but it sends chills down my spine.

Matt Bellamy. *swoon*

The atmosphere was electric, and some people really got into the whole crazy fan routine. There was one part where this guy tried fighting his way to the front. I swear, he was just mad. Or high on something. He was literally elbowing people out of the way, and when he got to me, it was physically impossible for anyone to move anywhere. He tried forcing his way through, but the girl beside me and I wouldn't have anything to do with it. Chicks are tougher than they look. He had his elbow jabbing into my neck for 5 whole minutes, and after I had enough of it, I scratched my nails into his arm. Satisfaction. That will teach him to mess with me. He just kept trying though..

I couldn't believe how wild he was. The guy on my other side offered to let me move beside him, but I declined. I just didn't want to let Mr. Psycho win. After getting told off by three girls, including myself, he got a bit abusive, and his friend had to drag him away. If I had more room, or heels, I would've punched him in the face, or kicked him where it hurt. There's concert etiquette, and an attitude like that spoils it for everyone.

Other from that little setback near the end, that had to be the best concert I've ever been to! Ah... Muse.

Bitch Not, Want Not

Well. The Jungle Smoko had to be one of the biggest and best smokos I've been to. I swear, they keep getting better and better. Or perhaps it was just me relieved that my assignments and tests were temporarily over, having finished them and passed them up. A temporary reprieve, but a reprieve, nonetheless. I think this time round, the pictures say it all. The parties just don't stop.

Drunkenness seems to bring out people's true colours. I heard and saw things that I wouldn't have expected to see otherwise. It didn't bother me much, until the afterparties started. The going back to a friend's room to hang out... That's where it all came out.

The bitching. The truth.

People's characters were torn to shreds, comments about people I thought they considered friends, the little annoyances and true feelings about people's characters. Perhaps the alcohol might have affected their judgement, but it definitely didn't affect their vocabulary. The words they chose to use shocked me at times, if only for the sheer vehemence of it all. At times, the dislike. I saw, firsthand, a glimpse of what it was to be on the inside of the people bitching.

In all fairness, the general comments were true about the people who were being discussed. They weren't saying anything that hadn't been said before. The characteristics of the individuals were no secrets, we all knew our pet peeves towards those individuals in our group, myself included. They had never made no secret about the way they felt towards certain attitudes.

The slut. The strange, socially inept one. The in-your-face tag-along. Characteristics that weren't exactly great. Still, I felt as so-called friends we should talk to them about it, rather than freeze them out at times. It was one thing to be annoyed at people for certain behaviours. It's another to despise them for it.

It was the tone, that made it all too serious. The fact that they so easily froze out someone they considered a friend, in a less inebriated state. She sat there on the floor, sensing that something was wrong, and I could only smile half-heartedly at her, realising I shared their disdain for her behaviour, but also accepting her faults, and truly liking her as a friend. I couldn't bring myself in to join in the bitching, instead spending part of the night defending people's reputations and reminding them of their own objectivity.

I can see how easily it would be to hurt someone in an inebriated state, no matter if it was intentional, or not. Sometimes I wonder what they would have said about me had I not been there, although I'm confident enough in my personality and my relationships to know that they wouldn't have been too negative. The night was a revelation to me.

Call me naive. But I've yet to meet someone I hated.