Hello from Kuala Lumpur!

Kuala Lumpur International Airport

Was it really a year and a half ago that I was blogging from Malaysia? Well, I'm back. But this time I'm here for winter break... I haven't been back for winter break in Malaysia since the 8th grade. Craazy. 

And yet, nothing seems to have changed. The culture shock. The squatting toilets. The head scarves on women. The freakishly pale sales ladies. Even the sleazy locals, are still here! 

Unfortunately, my journey here was not as smooth as before. First of all, I came here by myself. In fact, I was the last of my family to get here (final exams). A huge snowstorm delayed my flight from New York to Stockholm. And then Stockholm to KL got delayed. Which means, to get to Kota Kinabalu, my final destination and motherland, was delayed as well. This is why, I am now gleefully surfing the internet on my MacBook at the KL International Airport as I wait for the next transfer flight. 

You win some, you lose some. 

I don't know what it is about traveling that gets your creative juices flowing once again. It really puts the punch back into writing, for me. To be honest, I haven't been in the writing mood, as of late. You can tell from my empty-sounding entries and lack of inspiration. As soon as I got to the airport, though, the opinions and observations just kept coming. So, hopefully this will be the start of a new year: a revival of le blog. 

Day of departure

This entry has been added from my notebook: Original date, December 20th, 1:17 am

NYC apartment

I always keep a journal during traveling. This one was started exactly a year ago, and it's funny to go back and reread my writing. You really get a sense of how much a person has changed over the course of a year.

One year ago, last winter break, was the beginning of something brand new. And, I didn't have a clue how different my life was going to be. Cliche, but Paris was a gift. It was the answer to all the grief that found me last summer when I had all those frightening escapades in KK.

Now, back to KK, Malaysia it seems to be. 

I am... excited, curious, nervous, relieved. But above all, uncertain. If history does, in fact, repeat itself, then... what should I expect to happen this time around? I guess there is some symbolism behind my decision to use the same notebook from Paris. 

Maybe, I am trying to make a statement: this is ALSO a new beginning. Something is about to happen. I am traveling ALONE once again. My flight is in twenty hours from Newark. And, I don't land until Monday morning. Good lord. 

I can't stop thinking, ever. I think. I brood. I imagine. These aren't always the best things to do when one is on her own. Sometimes, I get nervous that the next time I open my mouth, all my thoughts will just spill out of my mouth like Niagara Falls. I feel bad for whoever will be around to witness that breakdown.

Some interesting thins have happened to me since Paris. I grew up, a ton. First, I dived into a world that I never expected to encounter, and surfaced with my own philosophies. I got a taste of corporate America. I conquered and learned. I learned how to deal with difficult people. I confused myself with my own logic- and other's. I was miserable. I worked... hard. I became a complete cynic. And I was surprised. Now, here I am. I am who I am, but different. Bad or good? More like some muddled, blurry, two-tone picture of mess. 

As I think over my life's memories, it really amazes me how much I've evolved. There are phases for everything. You just never quite know when one is ending and another is beginning. You never really know, at all... 

tomorrow is the last day of class...

For this semester at least. Around this time, I generally follow the typical stages: denial, stress, panic, nervous breakdown, acceptance. 

Denial is a funny little guy, who wears this tropical Hawaiian shirt and carries around a margarita. "Yoooo no class, winter vacay starts in like two weeks. WOO." He is the sort of guy who pressures you into staying in bed those extra five minutes, eat the extra scoop of ice-cream, skip a class... just because... you feel like it... 

And then Stress comes along and punches denial in the face, and gradually crushes any hopes of snow on Christmas Day. Stress is a sneaky sneaky guy. He might say a few comments to you, that kind of hurts your feelings. But you try not to give it to much thought, "Sticks and stones might break my bones, but words can never-" 

Ok, then Panic teams up with Stress. The two of them together... a little more unnerving. They make one super badass bully team. You begin to feel miserable. Days and nights are one in the same. Maybe you notice a little more hair in the shower drain than usual. Caffeinated drinks taste like water. You are feeling prettay psycho. 

But that's nothing compared to Mr. N. Breakdown. Nervous Breakdown doesn't dilly dally and act all passive aggressive. No, he sneaks up on you (likes to get you when you're PMS-ing or had one too many drinks... beware) and stab you in the back. Not a fun experience. As you're falling to the ground, just remember that there might be a shred of hope. 

That hope: Acceptance. For me, I meet Acceptance when I'm... say three-fourths done with an exam or paper. SCREW THIS. Whatever. I'm done. I've done enough. 

I would say I'm in Stress Mode. About to meet Panic. What good old friends...