The Malaysian Writer Identity Crisis

The problem with young writers in Malaysia is that we're great at being Malaysian... Until the pen hits the paper. Then all of this *vague waving gesture to the nearest Nasi Lemak 2.0 poster* disappears.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that Malaysian writers aren't distinctly Malaysian in their own right. See: Tash Aw, Abdullah Hassim and Tan Twan Eng.

Notice the similarities?

First: All three books are highly acclaimed english fictionals penned by Malaysian writers. 

Second: All have won prizes and awards both locally and overseas. 

Third: They all revolve around the pre/post colonial British rule (give or take a decade). 

Emphasis on the third. 

So I get that our culture is rich and diverse due to how the Brits essentially tricked a lot of people into thinking that Malaysia was a cool place to chill. But is that all there is to Malaysian culture? Imagine if publishers in the States told all their fiction writers that they'd only do well in the international market if their stories revolved around the Civil wars. That'd tank.

Jerk

But worse, what does this say to (or about) the younger [namely my] generation in Malaysia? 

Personal experience dictates that the opposite will happen. Back in high school and college, I hung out with a lot of other people like me - people who liked to read and write on an unhealthy level (I'm looking at you, Abby). 

The problem was that most - or nearly all - of the stuff we read (and could relate to) was penned overseas. In other words - by white people and following that line of logic, we mirror the things we grew up with. At least in writing. 

I wrote 400 pages of a girl falling in love with a Dragon (she ended up being The Chosen One) before throwing the draft away in disgust. Four other friends wrote the dashing tale of being enlisted as a marine. My bestie had reams and reams of Victorian inspired literature before I pointed out that in nearly all of them, the heroine was described as being "Frail and wispy with large, beseeching eyes but an underlying strength that shone when enraged". (This conversation might have taken place in my head I don't know, I'm pretty passive.)

What? Rip off? Me? Pftttt no. I totally came up with the idea first.

Our particular generation of Malaysian writers is facing an identity crisis. We have been so poorly represented in fictional media that we don't even know where to begin. The options are to either romanticise Malaysian culture (writing for an international audience) or to completely forgo Malaysian culture (writing as the international audience) 

And you, dear reader, end up with this pile of crap drivel.

In terms of local fiction, there's really not much in-between to work with. What happens when someone wants to publish a science fiction? Do the aliens eat nasi lemak? Do the police try to accept bribes from them? Or does the NSA come in because that's what they're suppose to do according to American television?

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The most breathtaking Cheongsams you can actually buy in Malaysia

Written by Eileen Woo

The Lunar New Year is fast approaching! Cue firecrackers, crates of oranges, liondances, and the upcoming gambling streak. It's also that one time of the year where I can prance around in a pretty cheongsam and get away with it.

Call me old fashioned, but I've always admired the tradition and elegance of the Cheongsam. Which is why I actually have tons of them stored up in my closet.

My only problem? Once CNY is over, I hardly have the chance to wear them again. And as much as I love my Cheongsams, I can't help but feel it's a bit of a waste of money (and closet space). So this year, I opted to search for a more contemporary version of the Cheongsam - one that I can actually wear a few times outside of the CNY celebrations.

Here are my top 5 picks!

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5 Things I Learned From The Office Bitch

1. Bring your Bitch Filter to work

...And this is where we put the bullshit in

It's a good thing (for The Bitch, not me) that before I started my internship here at The Star, I spent two years being a glorified janitor in Starbucks.

Serving angry, caffeine-deprived customers their daily fix, I learned two things:

1. That most often when you think someone is angry, they’re actually hungry.
2. How to speak/recognize/understand the fine language of Bitch.

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An open letter to E. Mackey: What women DON'T want in men

To be told how to think, act and behave.

Yup. That's it. That's the gist of it. 

That is literally. How. Fucking. Simple. It. Is. 

Lately, an online article has come to my attention where writer E. Mackey spends the following 559 words being sweet and kind and utterly chauvinistic. [You can read the full article here]

In the comments, he received both compliments and kind words, as well as "hateful and bitter attacks at [his] character". Whilst he doesn't reveal what those "attacks" are, I can imagine. 

Some women can get pretty riled up when you take a handful of them with extremely specific traits, put them on a podium and both insult and condemn the rest.

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5 Truths About Riding a Bike in The Big City

1. There is a stigma

Not against you, but against the thing between your legs.

That it is a danger to yourself and society - they say, pulling out sheets of statistics to validate the angle at which their nose is pointed up.

Which is 70 percent bullshit. Not to say that most bikes don't carry a higher fatality rate, just that an even higher number of bikers (cough Kedah cough) are *fucking idiots.

Even so,

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Journal entry: 2 things I've learnt from getting lost in KL

The job

"Clarissa!" A month ago, Nelly the head of HR called me from PJ - I was walking through Gurney Plaza wondering if I really wanted to blow 20 bucks on sushi when my phone started ringing.

"What?!"

"I just got a call from the editorial department!" She ended each sentence with an exclamation mark. "They have one extra slot for internship!"

"Cool!" I got caught up in her enthusiasm. "Where?!"

"R.age! So now you have two options - HR and editorial! Which one do you want?!"

I gave a pause long enough to be considerate, but short enough to not to sound like the line was dead "R.age, if you don't mind!"

I have friends working in HR. No sign has been heard or seen from any of them. We still post up flyers every now and again.

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A woman's opinion: On what women want

What the fuck do Women Want 

has been one of the oldest questions to tumble through time, giving birth (pun unintended) to a movie, talk shows, and an entire category of self-help books.

Of course the question had never really occurred to me before - for obvious reasons - till now.



When I thought about blogging again, I knew three things

1. That this time I wouldn't feel pressured to sell out (Take that Nuffnang HAH)
2. That I wouldn't feel shallow/materialistic if I wanted to write about beauty (Because color, make up, glitter, fashion is The Shit), and
3. That it would be written in the name of women. (Not to be confused with for women)

So I spent the night going through multiple Blogger templates for something appropriate both aesthetically and functionally.

Without really noticing it myself, I had been picking and choosing templates, going "oh that one doesn't look girly enough" "That one's too tech-y" And the sad thing was, some of the choices I passed off on were designs that I liked. 

The joke was - even though I, a self alleged and biologically proven woman, liked them, I was still sifting through the heap chasing after the idea of what women would want.

Because somehow I'm the chosen one. I'm special. All other women are just silly, pink and frills loving people.

The concept of the idea of what women want.

If you think about it, we're all chasing after the idea of what women want. This is a lot easier than finding out what women individually and actually want because that would mean viewing them as individuals and human beings with separate wants and desires.

Everyone thinks they know what women want, and the worst thing is, I feel like they're all telling me what I should want.

This picture

The media.

My boyfriend.

My parents.

My friends.

Even other women.

But if what I originally thought women wanted wasn't what I wanted, then how do I know other and all women even want it at all?

More importantly: does the concept of What Women Want even exist?

How should I know?

I'm just a night blogger trying not to starve on a diet subsisting mainly of soda crackers and Coke.

But I do know this: If I were sitting next to me an hour ago, watching myself, as a stranger, sift through all those layouts and backgrounds looking for something with more pink in it (and maybe a blue ribbon navbar) I'd have thrown a tantrum.

I'd have gotten up and screamed. I'd have shouted.

WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE. DON'T TELL ME WHAT I SHOULD LIKE. DON'T TELL ME HOW I SHOULD FEEL. DON'T TREAT ME LIKE JUST ANOTHER FACELESS BARBIE MAKEUP LOVING SHAPE IN A CROWD.

You can tell I was a very difficult child.

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5 things nobody in Boost wants you to know

If you're,

like me, looking for something to supplement your healthy lifestyle without breaking your bank (Let's get real, this is Malaysia where char koey teo can cost 3.50 and a protein shake 15 bucks) then your best bet is to either

1. Cut your own damn fruits, it isn't that hard.

2. Screw over said protein shake company in an ironic twist of Robin Hood-esque justice.

Mmmmmmm

Okay, maybe not screw over. Like, I'm not going to divulge the secrets or recipes so if that's why you're here, the Close button can be found at your top right corner, please keep all hands and feet inside the vehicle.

1. The shakes that look so healthy, aren't so healthy.

So much for au natural, Boost drinks consist of three categories - smoothies, crushes and juices. All super yummylicious and all super over-priced. But lets focus on the first two for now.

Unlike the juices and a rarefied selection of smoothies and crushes, almost all of the blended drinks contain no fresh fruits. Favorites like the Berry Crush and Mango Magic are made with a simplistic combination of juice concentrate (Ick, ugh, sweet, blergh), frozen yogurt/sorbet (aka frozen sugar water - See: juice concentrate description) and ice.

So what can I do then?

For smoothies, try out the Tropical Pina Colada. Don't bother checking out the menu board, it isn't there.

This is my favorite because

a) Instead of using juice concentrate, they actually squeeze pineapple juice right there and then.

b) It's the same price and few people know about it! Extra hipster cred right there.

You can also order the watermelon-lychee crush, they use real watermelons and real lychees and it's so sweet you can even tell them to cut down on the sorbet. Super refreshing on a hot day.

2. The store is a fly infestation waiting to happen

Now, I'm not saying that all Boost outlets are maggot mommas. But based on personal experience and common logic, a place where fruits and juices are kept, cut, discarded, spilled and left in the open isn't exactly your neighborhood nurse's idea of clean.

All it takes is 5 days for bananas to rot and 1 week of non-cleaning for the concentrate dispenser to host fly larvae.

And lets not forget the grease trap.

[Click here if you WANT TO upchuck your last meal]

So what can I do then?

Don't let some nasty speculation get in your way of yummy, healthy, informed eating. Like all F&B outlets, some are well managed...and some have shit managers who don't give a flip about company hygiene policies.

The good thing about Boost, however, is that everything is out in the open with semi raised walls and glass screens. Just take a peek behind for any warning signs of neglect and filth.

Things like un-wiped pulp splatters near the juicer, milk left out in the open, an unnerving number of flies and blocked up sinks are all warning signs to GTFO.

3. They're the Abercrombie and Fitch of the juice industry

Remember the asshole CEO for H&F and his face tearing interview?

It shouldn't come as a surprise that Boost would want to put health on the face of their brand, however it still irks me that the company which recruited me could turn away my friends for being "too fat" when then area manager looked something like this.

Courtesy of www.myindiapictures.com

So what can I do?

Nothing, really. Boost isn't as assholey in their policies and I wouldn't feel comfortable stretching the truth to get a few extra clicks, but that doesn't mean this form of corporate coolness doesn't get under my skin.

Then again, in a world where anorexic looking models are hired to promote weight loss equipment and supplements, discriminatory hiring doesn't seem like that outrageous a deal.

Not every company can be as awesome as target.

Together now: Awwwwwwwwwwww

4. Their Gym Junkie isn't all that worth it

Unless your idea of a post workout meal is one egg.

The gym junkie contains three quarters of a teaspoon of protein supplement. A "protein booster" and that's if you order the largest size.

It also boasts frozen strawberries and some more TD4 yogurt which makes it a pretty yummy drink but for an actual gym shake?

You're better off with that egg.

So what can I do?

Thank the heavens, Boost is now offering a much larger additional serving of whey protein for just 2 rm. It's an entire mini-container instead of single 1/4 scoops. Forget fancy smoothie names, you can make you OWN gym drink out of anything on the menu board.

My favorite is a Rasberry Ripe with Whey Protein (Chocolate, rasberries, and a whop-ton of protein) for *12 bucks instead of *14 (Gym Junkie).

*Prices shown during the time of writing. They're cheaper now. Go figure.

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5 things every post-breakup-ee needs to remember

It’s New Year’s Night and the 5th evening in the row I've fallen asleep crying and hugging the teddy bear he gave me.

He won it from a claw machine the week after we got together, despite my whining

(It's not like you're going to actually get it)

Nagging,

(Those things are so rigged)

Attempts to forcibly remove him fro m the immediate area of temptation

(Babe you're literally throwing money down the drain)

In retrospect the reason/s we broke up weren't all that important. It wasn't working out. I gave it my all, and when all didn't work (Whining, persuading, waiting, pursuing, ignoring, cajoling, riding out in the night to visit him, giving him his space) I bowed out for the final time.

But like I said, all that does not matter. Because in the end,

1. When it's over, it's over.

I'm too sad to even think of something witty to say leave me alone ugh

Now I'm not against going back on your word (In fact The Guy and I had "broken up" 3 times before I finally decided that I didn't want a lifetime of hot and cold, pushing and pulling mind games), but the fact of the matter is - you have to make your word stand for something.

I hear a lot of "you have to let X/Y go" But when you come to think about it, it isn't about letting go of the person, it's about realizing that you already have. That chance, or moment, or time you had together or whatever, it's all in the past. Now you can keep going back and making the same mistakes and trying to analyse yourself to death or you can look around you and see what you've got, where you are, who you're with, and move on from there.

Maybe X/Y holds another appearance in your future, maybe they don't, but the point is that it really doesn't matter because, just like the past, it isn't happening now.

2. Their faults aren't your problem anymore

And you kiss like a carwash

I wanted to break contact until all the emotional residue had dissipated.

He wanted to stay friends.

If you, like me, have a tendency to bring up objects from the fallout in a snarky, final-blow sort of way (i.e. "Well at least now you can sleep as much as you want", "Oh you're having two big macs for supper? I know how happy that makes you", "Why the phone call? I thought you'd be out with your friends.", STOP. What the fuck, Clarissa. Leave the poor guy alone, you've already broken up, you have no right and no authority over what the other person should or shouldn't do (and vice versa).

Repeat after me: Its. Not. Your. Frickety. Problem. Anymore.

3. It was probably you.

I TOLD YOU to park the car there when you had the chance

Okay so maybe something went wrong. Maybe something went really wrong. From what i've discovered in life, you can either pin the blame on external factors (He wasn't trying hard enough, her friends were a pack of bitches, the sun was too hot that day, you got hungry) or you can pin it on yourself. The thing isn't to feel like shit, it’s to understand that the difference between doing the former and the latter is that one can't be changed and the other can.

Personally, The Guy wasn't an insensitive-slash-lazy-slash-selfish-slob. The problem was that I

i. Didn't bother to wait and find out the full extent of what I was getting into

ii. Had expectations which didn't match up to the given situation

iii.Take your pick

When you realize that the fault is yours, it comes in an empowering package (after feeling like the world’s biggest douche, of course) Because now you have a secret weapon, the ability to adapt yourself to whatever life throws at you. And that's some powerful shit.

4. You're most likely bullshitting yourself 

Nobody understood him. Oh the camera? Yeah that too.

Quick! What was the last depressing thought your mind threw at you? Mine was "I'll never find someone like him".

Of course, I thought that about Guy 1, 2, and 3 too.

After a bad break it's only natural to bleed hyperbole. Your brain is experiencing withdrawal and love is the drug. Much like most cocaine users going through a long draught, your mind experiences extreme tunnel vision and everything sort of fades into the background.

Work and health? Who cares! Air? Who needs it!

You're going to say a lot of things you don't mean, and think a lot of thoughts you won't remember and feel a lot of emotions that in three months’ time, will make you feel like you were bullshitting yourself. Because you probably were. And that's all natural! As long as you keep that in mind, because

5. You're going to die.

"Did you just-" "Yeah I did"

Want a really big wakeup call? You're going to die. Your family is going to die. Sooner or later, this entire planet, and all its inhabitants - both known and unknown - are all going to fade away leaving not even the consolation of memories from existence. Come on, Clarissa. Crying for 20 minutes over a boy? Really? Twenty minutes moping is twenty minutes gone. Every moment of your life has to count for something and spending it in regret, guilt and bullshit is like being away from the keyboard during a game of competitive Tetris.

It doesn't matter if you're the type to send back waves of Tetrises, or to slowly clear your own pile of debris, either option is still better than sitting back and watching as the blocks slowly pile up in an irreversible mess whilst you cry and eat bucketloads of ice-cream.

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How to take the scientifically best dating profile picture

Good news for lazy daters like myself, Dating website Zoosk has taken all the guesswork out of your dating display picture in their latest study, which involved 4000 anonymous participants.

Here, I've compiled all the statistical findings and my own personal advice in relation to them.

 Because science bitch.

Step 1: Women need to get back in the kitchen

• The Zoosk study finds women get 60% more attention if photo is taken indoors

There are a few things which can be found indoors that appeal to our manly x-chromosomed human counterparts. One of them is the bedroom, the other, the kitchen. Both should not be more than 10 meters away from a potential mate. Don'ts:

Being outdoors means a higher chance of escaping. This terrifies men.

  Do's:

A specimen in it's natural habitat

Step 2: Men need to show their foraging and hunting abilities

• Men get 19% more attention if theirs is taken outside

Screw gay stuff like baking and accounting. REAL men bring home the bacon. Bloody. Plus points if he is seen carrying a spear or building a fire - these display his ability to provide for the clan.
  Don'ts:

Look at that rack of perfectly risen cupcakes. What a wuss. 

Do's:

#REALman #NoHomo #Wow #SoStrong

Step 3: Don't be fat*

• Full-body photos boost both sexes success by 203%

According to the Zoosk survey, having full body pictures helped boost the users' popularity by 203 percent. Of course, that only counts if you're hot to begin with. *Can also be read: Don't be ugly
  Don'ts:

Ugh whut no ugh

 
  Do's:

Awwwww yisssssss

Step 4: Guys can't know that they're hot

• Men get 8% fewer messages if they put up selfies

Honey, the whole Strong and Silent thing only works if we're not imagining you checking the mirror every five minutes to make sure that your "hair is okay". "But Clarissa!" I hear you cry out "How fair is it that we're expected to strive for looks yet pay no attention to them?" You whine self-righteously. Ha. Sucks doesn't it? Don'ts:

Ugh OMG he's so vain. What a jerk.

 
Do's:

 

Our findings:

What do all these findings mean for mankind? What do they mean for womenkind??

Our researchers are still working on the survey's intricate details but it's safe to say that either

 1. The world is a sucky place

 2. The internet is a sucky place, or

 3. Call me a traditionalist...but if you want a specific type of partner, search accordingly. Need a quick one night stand? Hit the bar. Fancy men of technology? Head to the nearest apple store. Want a girl who reads? Walk down to Borders.

 Anyone can say they do a whole bunch of things online but the ones who actually do, are actually doing them.

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