Birthday wish

(Author’s note: I know I’ve been MIA for a tad too long. I’m not done being MIA yet but since this is a Merdeka post, hence being in conjunction with Malaysia’s birthday is pretty urgent, methinks.

Originally meant for an international student newsletter. I’ll check whether this is of ISA’s interest or not, soon.

Meh.)

~

Birthday Wish

I can be prosecuted if this is published in my country.

Then again, it depends.

It depends on who is in control.

For nearly 50 years, that didn’t matter.

Some things are just……unlikely to change.

For now.

~

Many a time have I written on the sickening politics of this misguided land of Malaysia. From the constricting societal norms of the local Chinese culture to the pompous Islamic moral guardians.

Nobody is spared from judgment. Dogma is adapted for the power hungry and the insecure and it prevails above the law.

In Malaysia, the constitution contradicts, ambiguously so.

In Malaysia, rights have lost their meaning, for both humans and animals.

In Malaysia, most of her education doesn’t prepare you for the world outside its borders. At this rate, it will never.

The politicians wanted it that way.

I hate it.

~

Imagine waking up at birth to a place you’re taught to call home. For years, you thought it was home. Your parents worked there. Your siblings schooled there. Your friends found you there.

Everything was there. Your sense of belonging; your home.

At least, it was.

Until you grew into the age of reason. Slowly, through experience, the blissful veil of ignorance dropped with pity past your rose tinted shades and you see that fairy tales you were told don’t often have happy endings after all.

Especially when you’re not born a Malay; a Malaysian Muslim.

Whose special rights protect the majority of the country, not the minority.

~

To better illustrate my affection for the education of real life culture, nothing beats first hand observation. Coming from a city of world-renowned friendliness called Kuala Lumpur, I have been accustomed to sour-faced servers and stoic cashiers. People didn’t say hi unless they were your friends. You’d be suspected of snatch theft if you so much as smiled at them. You keep your thoughts to yourself unless you want to be seen as an arrogant prick.

Malaysia truly Asia, the tourism department promotes.

And ever since I’ve reached the American soil, I’ve discovered many smart and outspoken people. People who care more about honesty than saving face. Though some may be opinionated, they nonetheless enjoy discussions.

The creative arts is so rich here that it enriches the sciences here.

It shames me to know what my homeland has been robbed of. By her governors.

Courtesy has a great meaning here. Cars don’t race to ram you down. “Thank you”s and “welcome”s are rampant. So much so that “Hi, may I help you?” surprises me sometimes.

~

I was forewarned that Westerners place little value on sincerity. They say “Thank you” and “Welcome” for the sake of it. Hypocrisy, the warning seemed to imply.

Initially, upon my first few weeks here, I felt the same.

I met this local girl at a poster sale and she was talking about Fight Club the movie and she enthusiastically expressed how we should watch that movie together. Like totally.

Another local guy expressed how nice it was to meet me and that we should hang out sometimes and gave me his number.

Eventually, we parted like strangers once more. I have yet to hear from them.

For some time, I felt as if they lied.

Gradually, I learned that it’s not so much about hypocrisy but more about common decency. It’s like how people should be nice to one another in public. Keep your bad moods to yourself. Nobody deserves to be inflicted with your mood swings.

After all, people do talk about things for the fun of it. Nothing serious unless stated. When it comes to the issue of small talks, I think what these Westerners are actually doing is throwing ideas around. Like “Oh my god, we should totally get together sometime and try that Pop Tart!”…

…is just an idea.

And people, who aren’t accustomed to such open friendliness, might take offense from being too serious about relationships in general.

~

I remember the last time I felt that Americans in general were insincere. Now, after making new friends, I realize that it was mainly because I felt lonely myself. In this newfound land.

Any sort of great friendliness which felt intimate made me take more interest in that person, more than I would regard the usual stranger.

So, I think, it’s more about the issue of one’s self-esteem, more than the shallowness of anybody else.

~

Humans have always valued a sense of belonging. A sense of security, harmony, and peace.

Even the biggest misanthropist would admit that, deep down.

It’s only a matter of who, what, or where you want to belong to.

~

I think this stereotype of “Westerners being friendly but shallow/meaningless” is flawed. It’s more popular to regard the Westerners as such because they have healthier self-esteems than most Asians, in general, as the former has been cultivated to be more outspoken since young, whereas its Asian counterparts have always been cultivated to be more passive at its own expense.

~

Today marks the 50th year of Malaysia.

I don’t see how age represents maturity.

~

Happy Independence Day.

Ni hao

Just before the city tour, courtesy of Bloomington International Student Ministries and Sherwood Oaks Christian Church

China enters the van as her friends cheered.
China: Hai~~~~~~ What’s your name?
Bombay: Hi, (something something) ni hao*.
Everyone Else: (silence)
China: Wow, you speak Mandarin!
Bombay: No, that’s my name. Neha.

-

*ni hao [Mandarin]:

1. (literally) You good.
2. (greeting) Good day/How are you/How do you do

Amedika

The rapping on the door grew more urgent by the moment as my desk chair rocked forward.

I paused and frowned, puzzled. I haven’t told anyone of my room number. Yet.

I couldn’t see anyone though the door hole. The knob clicked silently.

And then the ambush came.

“Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

It was as if a bear hugged me. A squealing one.

“I’m Lauren, your roommate!”

“Yeah, I figured,” I muttered in a daze.

“Oh my God, this is so cool, I’ve finally met you!”

I couldn’t help but laugh. Lauren’s enthusiasm was contagious. And she didn’t look fat. I must have stalked the wrong Facebook profile after all.

Then one by one, her family sauntered in with introduction of almost equal zeal. They were all talking at about the same time.

-

-

On the top of my desk

-

“I love your poster.”

It was one of the first things my roommate’s mother said to me.

“Haha, yeah, that’s funny,” Lauren, The Roommate, added.

“Thank goodness you’re not a Texan,” I remarked with relief.

“Don’t worry, we all hate Bush,” Her mother reassured.

I couldn’t help but smile as I watched the Schwartzes gush in awe of the room their daughter will be living in with me for the next 12 months. They took note of everything from the large size of the room and the wasp nest right outside on top of the wall-sized window.

“You better tell the Resident Assistant about this,” Mr. Schwartz cautioned.

“You speak very smart,” Mrs. Schwartz continued. “Are you sure this is your first time coming to the US?”

“Yeah, seriously, your English is, like, so good. I really thought you’ve studied here for at least a year.”

I had to laugh and tell them that if they were to base the English standards of most Malaysians on mine, they would be severely disappointed.

“Wow, really?”

A bittersweet chuckle. I felt little pride in being an exception.

~

I left for lunch with Fiona, a Singaporean sophomore, while the Schwartzes helped Lauren arrange belongings twice the amount of my own. Over Jimmy John’s sandwiches, we discussed parental expectations and childhood angsts, much which seemed reasonable now, more than ever.

Fiona was one of the many who were surprised that I didn’t miss home. Per se.

I suppose it’s because I’ve been a loner long enough.

~

When I got back to the dorm, I came to a pleasant surprise in the form of a mini refrigerator, courtesy of Mr. Schwartz. Mrs. Schwartz seem to support the democratic ideology very much. Lauren told me that I could borrow anything I want without asking. They all told me that I could eat anything they bought.

I don’t remember the last time I clicked with a whole family this well.

And right after the door closed behind Mr. and Mrs. Schwartz, I was invited to a frat party. House owner is a friend of their daughter. Good folks with good supply of pot. Prior to this, the daughter advised me that the only drug I should bother trying is only weed. Life and education aren’t worth the bigger risks. Mainly because she has been there done that.

I couldn’t ask for a better roommate.

Of a burning throat, strobe lights, a green table lamp, and sedated minds, I slouched on a bean bag in lazy stupor with a cold relieving Gatorade on my arm, and suddenly, I completely empathized with Eric Foreman and his basement gang.

I felt Zen.

“The coldest part of my body……is somewhere on my hand……”

And more blonde than ever.

~

I don’t think I can show this blog to my parents now.

~

Amedika !

Lone buildings, falling leaves, and the red series

On the 15th and 16th of August, American time !

The only red(s) !
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Law breaker of Bloomington !
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Don’t enter the tree !
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Guess how many stop signs are there in the parking lot !
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Achtung duo wheels !
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Here comes the sun !
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Lonely lonely by the street !
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First signs of fall !
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The Japanese chef who asked me if I had a boyfriend or not, after I asked him to make a fire so I can take a photo
-

Stuffed !

 

~

The parents and I went shopping in the next town of Edinburgh, Indiana for winter clothing. Transportation via a Jaguar (worth USD 8,000, apparently) provided by a very hospitable Singaporean of my age, whom my parents thought to be guaranteed with nothing less than responsibility, until we sat in his car.

On obtaining the sacred goods of Aeropostle, Clarks, and Guess at half the Malaysian price in factory outlet stores,

The Guess models

I’m still reveling in the novelty of wearing a pair of Guess track pants to sleep, just because my mum said so.

On my blanket

Me: I now wear Guess to sleep
Malaysian Friend: @#$#%^$#@$%$^%^%$ GUESSSSSSSSSSSSSS
Me: /me pats lots

Hours later, a couple of friends drove my parents and I back to their hotel. Their flight was due at five the next morning. Until that very moment, it never occurred to me how dysfunctional my family was when my dad barely bade goodbye out of habit and I didn’t remember if I hugged my mum back.

She gave me the tightest hug ever.

Nostalgia hit me at its worst when I eventually got back to my new and permanent dorm, realizing that all I was familiar with had just left.

Yet, I wasn’t homesick. The only things I missed were the food and the prices.

Four nights later, dad called.

Only to ask me why I got a late payment fee in my Bursar bill.

-

~

A part of me wonders if I should let them read my blogs. This one, at least.

OF FLUFF AND TREES AND BLEEDING TOE AND FUCK MY CAPS WON’T GO AWAY

(Author’s note: Was MIA due to orientation and presence of roommate.)
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On the 14th, American time !

Random plants with lights too bright !
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Patriotism in print !
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Imported from Norway !
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Clouuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuud !
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Bluuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuue !
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Treeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeees !
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School bus !
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Art museum which I shall visit soon !
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When ‘No Entry’ isn’t enough !
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When ‘Dead End (Ahead)’ isn’t enough !
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When ‘Stop’ isn’t enough !
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Adanir the Paki(stani) !
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School of Fine Arts !
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Single file !
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Ana the Kazakhstan and McAdams. Don’t they just look alike?
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Whoops !
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Elementary essential !
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Vladmir Putin’s subject !
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Abbas the Paki(stani) !
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It could be a three way lane and it’s not even a highway !
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Sun screen !
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Huge !
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Hot !
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Spot the man !
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More trees (Thank goodness) !
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Where it (the orientation) all started !
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Wilkie Hall. Fucking boring !
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Sung the Korean, trying to wave my camera off but takjadi !
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Party Frat house. Wonder what it looks like during winter
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The majestic fluff and Eye of Heaven !
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And subsequently, I tripped over a cone, broke my Japanese-inspired ship-headed sandals, and cut my right toe, all right next to that Fine Arts center.

 

Moral of the Story: Do not take photos of clouds while crossing a construction yard.

Ice-cream dinner

(Edited; 14th Aug 2007)
-

So. At 8:30 am, there was an obligatory English Placement Test, so terribly easy that it goes to show how much the university distrusts the education of its international students.

Either that or Americans are easily impressed.

I made the mistake of writing a full draft in scratch paper. Had only 10 minutes to copy half of it in the answer sheet in pen. I hope they’ll be kind enough to read my scratch paper.

Met a Kazakhstan (She likes Borat!). Her side profile reminded me of Rachel McAdams.

Lunch at the International Center. Vege day. Bank promotions. Free Hershey’s Dark Chocolates. Hummus somehow tastes like tuna.

I love their soft chocolate chip cookies so much I’m gonna get fat.

And S, my newfound Norwegian friend, just told N, Na from Delhi, and I that she’s gonna force feed us with Taco Bell and chocolate cookie dough tomorrow.

To buy list:
1. Weighing scale
2. Bath robe

To do list:
1. Find gym

TB testing. The curve of my arm is still sore. The weather was still so fucking hot that whomever decided to leave the air-conditioned Health Center would have been back in 5 minutes from heat stroke. Bloominton is to microwave like Malaysia is to steamboat.

And finally, the Ice Cream Social! Imagine hopping from one table filled with vanilla and chocolate ice-cream to a table filled with classic toppings of nuts, strawberries, jam, chocolate sauce, whip cream, and cherries…

…only to go to the table at the other end with the same drool-worthy fillings!

Four or five lemonade stands. Stands of recruitment drive for international clubs (I think the Malaysian Society had too few students to even have a stand). Unlimited ice-cream. Three trays of homemade soft cookies. Hundreds of students from India, China, Korea, Pakistan, India, Bolivia, Honduras, Indonesia, Singapore, Germany, Hungary, Norway, Mexico, Canada, Taiwan and a gazillion more.

Oh, and Malaysia! I was the only one there today!

So far, nobody here has asked me what or where Malaysia is. I’m quite disappointed.

I’m definitely promoting the incredibly note-worthy jazz band in the background which happens to perform regularly a few streets down!

All under one roof. The huge white tent held a Commonwealth meeting.

And fuck. I should have charged my camera batteries last nighttttttttttttttttttttttttt! Canon had delighted me alwayssssssssssssss! It was a Power Shot.

Instead of practicing the unhealthy Malaysian habit of staying up past one onlineeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

So no photos of the orientation today, especially of the awesome (i.e: free) Ice-Cream Social.

S just told me that during the Welcome Week on the 18th to the 22nd (or something), sunburned locals will be back, alcohol will be flowing, and the police of neighboring districts will be doing a Bloomington Special for patrol.

She mentioned legal age folks doing the mandatory after-party sprawl across the lawns so I shall remember to charge my camera batteries the night before.

I saw this white guy making eye-contact with me. Didn’t seem available anyway.

Actually, that has been my mantra ever since I got here in Bushland. That all good-lookers are taken. So to have room for pleasant suprises.

The Chinese here thinks I’m Korean. Back at the Ice-Cream Social, the Korean Association handed me a registration form. Just before my parents left for Disneyland, Dad admitted that there might be some trace of Korean in his ancestral line, though his mom disagreed.

Neither did his wife think so. Jealousy had never been greener.

I’ve OD-ed on ice-cream and fallen head over heels.

~

I’m getting my Campus Access Card (i.e. school ID) tomorrow, which only means free bus rides and gym admission. Let’s see how ugly the photo will get.

~

Last Friday.

Me: I’m so fungry.
Black Female Server: Hi, what can I get you?
China Dude: (runs to the counter, overtaking Black Female Server) Lemme get it, lemme get it!
All Servers: (smile) Arrr.
China Dude: Yes, arr.
Me: o_O

Epilogue of the first nine

It’s nearly seven p.m. and the sky looks like five o’ clock. Have I mentioned how insanely cute the babies here are?

(pics are currently in the kiasu’s Olympus. Explanation in next post. To be updated.)

Maybe it’s because most of them are Caucasians, but seriously, with due respect, they’re the only kind of pets or dolls I would like to call my own.

On a less familial note, the 12 hour difference between Indiana and Malaysia has resulted in interactions with the rare night owls and early birds of the online world. Interestingly, the only time I miss home was when the realization that I’ll be all by myself once my parents are back from Disneyland and gone, sink in.

For 2 minutes.

Before I went and bought an awesome Jimmy John’s sandwich ($4.25! I think! I dunno! I threw the receipt away!) which was served within less than one or two minutes. No, it wasn’t microwaved.

And I love the candy prices here (Hershey’s are everywhere in any form! Some for $1 or less!), so I’m prolly gonna have to get my decay density checked next May.

Medical prices here are insane. Just $100 for consultation, sans medication.

One reason to fly back to Bodoland.

Actually, two reasons: I need my cha kuay teow and wanton noodles. And Sarawak noodles. And bandung. And.

You get the idea.

But otherwise, seems to me that I’ll love the place. Especially once the locals get back from the sunburns.

Maybe I’m still in the honeymoon stage.

Apart from the token black people that I mentioned, I have not met particularly…interesting folks yet. Good lookers are abound though. But they’re usually tall. Like tall tall. Six feet and above tall. And I’m too intimidated to have a crush on any of them. Just yet.

I’ve been walking around, getting to know the place, and absorbing the scenery. Dad found out that, by far, Indiana University Bloomington (IUB) boasts of the most beautiful school landscape, which can rival that of Oxford and Cambridge. A campus city, it is indeed. More photos to come, once the weather here cools a bit more.

And since rumor has it that the terribly exciting events here are the likes of golf, bowling, and pool/snooker, it’s no wonder this campus is known to have party dorms. Namely those right across the street of my supposedly permanent residence.

It’s odd. Because there are quite a number of auditoriums and theaters and music arenas around.

Stomp is coming next February!

-

Welcome to Bloomington, Indiana, where the biggest crime is speeding and the cars have no number plates at the front.

~

“You won’t get a penalty for guessing, so you may guess. But I suggest you use that option wisely, because you may end up being scheduled to a course you’re not ready for.”

An exam supervisor on the available answering options for the Math Placement Test today (which showed me the amount of math I’ve given back to Ms. Ng in 2005).

What happened

9th of August !

Funky bus conductor !

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There’s something about the ‘Open’ sign
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They don’t want you to just eat

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“I believe that people eat when they’re happy,” said Mr. Linderman

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At the point where dying from gluttony seems likely

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The usual winner !

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Goooooo Pizza !

*cue: Captain Planet theme song*

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That which makes one lazier!

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I still have yet to see a ticket on those cars !

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Current lodging !

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Wall art !

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Middle of nowhere (in front of a residence hall) !

~

Highlight

~

10th of August!

Smiley(s) !

Note to self: Do not trust Portrait setting anymore.

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What most young and hot-blooded locals(?) look like (except taller)

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Quarantine !

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Push it !

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South African Korean in motion !

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The kiasu winning smile !

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Ken Barbie before possible grown up ugliness !

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Falling oddity !

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Convenient indeed !

~

Was on the stairs approaching ground floor in the residence hall a bit noisily (thanks to sandals) and nearing the computer room, to notice a black dude (and friend) leaning frontwards to look who’s coming, make a double take, and go “Da-yum” to his friend, before rushing out to make small talk.

Henceforth, I shall cease to wear trousers which hem ends above knee length.

~

11th of August!

The cordon bleu of Chocolate, which I shall have for tea tomorrow

-

For the fat physically challenged : )

-

Got diet?

Total Prevalence of Diabetes in the United States, All Ages, 2005

Total: 20.8 million people—7 percent of the population—have diabetes.

Source: National Diabetes Statistics

~

Met the president of the local Malaysian association this morning. He’s currently pursuing a Master (or was it a Ph.D?) in Psychology. Lovely fellow who renewed a sense of patriotism within me with fresh nasi lemak (for breakfast), courtesy of his wife. He drove us round to Target, Krogers, and lunch at another Malaysian family’s apartment.

“The stop signs here are important. As powerful as the traffic light, tau. In Malaysia, kan stop signs kite langgar saje? But here you cannot. Must stop.”

For the first time, I felt embarrassed to note that a Malaysian can’t park a car.

Home away from home

Never eat the wanton here. Ever.

I swear it’s like eating a miniscule pao with discounted fluffiness and extra bad flour.

Still, better not take a risk your health insurance would probably never cover.

Just met two fellow Taylor’s ADPians. A Chinese and a Burmese. Brought them to China Buffet.

Wasn’t exactly the best idea. They appointed me to be their chef for healthy cooking.

Meh.

-

Orientation was yesterday and it’s only the very first day (of the two weeks)! I’ve moved into a dorm for temporary housing the day before. IU’s Net Access website kept popping up to remind me how I’m no longer a hotel guest and am unable to download copyrighted material solely with free will.

Meh again.

It was only last night that my alco memory figured that I already have my computer network ID and it’s the same shit as the procedure for the Central Authentication Service (it’s like some basic student login) and I’m not even legal enough to drink (here)! (So why o why is my memory still so alco?)

Hence the MIA of nearly 3 days.

-

Americans are smart. They give you a pop quiz right after the very boring lecture on immigration and give freebies (i.e. vouchers) for random correct answers!

-

So, from the bottom of this massive auditorium, Chris the speaker of the Welcome Note of the undergraduates orientation, someone supposedly very important whose full name I shall attempt to find out again, asked the hall of students the total amount of flight time they took to arrive in the local airport.

“The person who took the most effort will get something special,” Chris tantalized.

I absent-mindedly calculated the amount of time I spent above sea level.

A slender chocolate hand shot up.

“Yes?”

“I came all the way from Calcutta, India, and I took a train to Bombay and then to China…”

She basically took 20.5 hours to arrive at her destination and received strong applause from the audience.

“Wow,” Chris remarked. “That is a long way down here.”

I couldn’t help but to think that I nearly spent more than a day’s worth of time.

“Anybody else would like to top that?”

The crowd stirred slightly. The Westerner in me struggled to break the Asian silence.

Another hand shot up.

“Yes, sir!”

“I took a plane to Sing-ka-por……”

Tidal wave of laughter. Thousands of pupils dilated. Necks craned. Familiar voice.

“…and den from Sing-ka-por I take enoder plane to L.A……took a taxi for two hours.”

I was so amused that I didn’t catch every detail.

“So kiasu. Must either be a Singaporean or Malaysian,” I chuckled to my newfound Korean friend, N.

“That’s about 24 hours! Very impressive!” Chris bobbed his head with approval. The crowd applauded once more and silenced.

Chris looked around the room once more.

“Anybody else would like to top that?”

A frustrated debate whirred in my head.

Shit. What’s the number again? How long did I take?

“Nobody?”

Move it! Say it!

“Well, it seems like we have a winner,” Chris grinned. “And for that effort, you’ve earned yourself two free movie tickets.”

More applause. Some congratulatory laughter. Mixed with voices of appreciation and envy.

When heads finally parted, I caught a glimpse of that victorious voice and identified that very familiar Malaysian face that said hello to the Burmese ADPian and I before he went to sit many rows below us.

At least, I smiled with relief.

-

“Home is a place where you’re comfortable with. A place where you can ask questions; where the information won’t be held against you.”

Chris, speaker of the Welcome Note, someone supposedly very important whose full name I shall attempt to find out again

Something Malaysia is not for me and more.

-

Dad commented that he felt as if we’ve been around for a very long time.

Interestingly, I wished for more time.

~

 

Stand behind the yellow line

Red Hot Indiana

Fuck. The heat wave isn’t a myth after all.

Pardon someone who thought there wasn’t anywhere semi-civilized hotter than Malaysia (in terms of heat. Period?).

90 degrees Fahrenheit; 38 degrees Celsius. Six days in a row now. As if there was an epidemic of high fever. Imagine living in a place hotter than your own body.

Mum has been coughing badly. I just got dandruff and the last shampoo I used came from the hotel room. Everywhere’s so hot that even the air-conditioning at CVS Pharmacy semi-broke down and the only place that’s remotely tolerable is their restrooms.

The cashier told my mum to sit in there for 5 minutes to regain some health.

CVS Pharmacy is so convenient that Mum noted the only things they don’t sell are probably pillows and mattresses.

More on shops. You know how Malaysia has that Hinode RM5 shop? Well, down here in Bloomington, we have a One Dollar Shop. It’s not even RM 4 after conversion and it sells everything from bowls to bags to dishwashing liquid. Maxi sizes too.

HAH.

And in College Mall (which interior layout and design Dad suspected One Utama has borrowed), candy lovers shall proudly decay to hell!

-

One!
-

Two!
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Three and more but we were in a rush!
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On the risk of a self-fulfilling prophecy, there’s this particular Cambodian who has been rather attentive to the traveling needs of my parents and I. Apart from offering me a jolly round of pool or two with his mates the night before, he has an awesome Honda (I think? Well, it’s worth 8k anyway, said he the very nice guy) which he has been using to give us tour guides ’round town since the day we met.

Which was just yesterday.

Let’s not use the forbidden word now, shall we?

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Useful discovery of the day: The sign opposite the bus stop across the hotel.

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Don’t you Malaysians just wish?
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New phone. (Finally!) AT&T (who bought Cingular). Two year contract. A Nokia 6126 for $45 with very hygienic earphones (with cushions!) and 1GB worth of memory card!

The following brag-worthy benefits are limited within the cuntry (but of course):

1. Unlimited nationwide calling to AT&T’s wireless customers – over 62 million.

i.e. Free calls to cell numbers of same mobile provider.

2. Unlimited text, picture, video, and instant messaging with anyone in the U.S.

i.e. Free everything else.

Quote unquote printed AT&T $59.98 calling plan (not including the 8% discount for IU students!).

HAH again.

-

And for the second first time ever, camwhores self-portraits!

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Mum at China Buffet lunch
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Good old Daddy-o
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What you resort to in the name of Cheap Thrills
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Don’t ask
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Something something
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Scenic old trees and buildings beauties coming soon!