Pimping your daughter?

Which mother does not want to have gorgeous children? Especially a daughter who is pretty and all that. As much as asian parents are obssessed about having smart prodigy kids, given a choice, they would want it both ways for their daughters. Brawns and Brains that is...

I remember my teenage days when my wardrobe consisted of skater pants and billabong baggy t shirts. For a moment, my mother started worrying about my sexuality and the agst attitude i was carrying around. So she decided to spruce me up abit. I remember protesting over a pair of shorts she bought for me (to wear out). I remember pulling a long face when she made me try on baby-tees' and bought me proper skin care. I walked away from my mother who openly suggested at the lingerie department that I should get some cutesey colored bras. My father used to tell me, a little lip gloss wouldn't harm, and I looked at him as though he was mad! I was 13, and as far as I was concerned, I just wanted to be left alone and dress the way I deemed fit. My mother always hated my unrully hair and made me cut it really short. But suddenly one day, she told me maybe I should keep it long. I was perplexed. I used to have to fight an arm and leg to have my hair reach my shoulders. Les did I know my parents were preparing me for womenhood. It still sounds corny, but that was exactly what they were doing. They were pimping me! What baffled me more was, a few years down the road, when I was comfortable with skirts, tank tops and spagetti straps, which she had introduced me to, she started worrying about me showing too much skin and attracting unwanted attention.The rest of my teen years, revolved around arguments about my choice of clothes.

No, my parents aren't the only ones who pimped me up.  So did YOUR mom, and all the mothers out there who have daughters, and you, if you are a mom. If you look at the teenage clothes line which is out there in malls, it's pretty shocking that 13 year olds are deciding if they want to go along with the goth, biker-chic, glitzy glamour, or hit the clubs look. And what's more shocking is their mothers who purchase those tacky slutty clothes for their daughters. If that's not pimping up your daughter, I don't know what else is.

It is an unconscious decision to dress your kids up in a the latest trend, and to make sure they don't stand out like a sore thumb among their peers. But mothers, be careful, because the little girl you are dressing up today, might be the slut of the block tomorrow, and it will be your fault partially.

The point is that, mothers are not aware that the simple act of dressing up your daughter, introducing her to make up and teaching her ettiquets, is grooming her to become a sex symbol among her peers in the future. I'm not saying, please wrap her in a bale of cloth, but groom her accordingly, to not only help her find her sense of style and attitude, but also in a modest, moderate way. Your actions can be counter productive at the end of the day, so take caution in how you groom your daughters. Or a simpler thing to do is, to just have sons! =)

It's that time of the year again

It that time of the year again, where mixed feelings never truly leaves you in peace. On one hand, I am ecstatic to have finally taken up my dream job, and on the other hand, I am going to be alone for Christmas for the first time.

Christmas is always the part of the year I look forward to (second in line Chinese New year because of the angpows hehehehe). Christmas celebrations at the Murray's headquarters, all the way in Mersing is always a hustle and bustle and nothing short of havoc. While family members take long drives to make it to my grandfather's house to make it in time for Christmas eve mass, it is always a trepidation for "my" family to beat the clock and traffic to get there in time. Tempers may flare against dilly-dalliers, and dad is always assuming his suitcase is packed with him work documents for 'just-in-cases' and me, wondering, why I am here, and not out with my friends in the big city partying away.When everyone reaches Grandpa's house, cousins will exchange horror stories of being stuck in the car with their parents for long hours and parents will be nagging at us to either help out in the kitchen, or scoot back to the hotel to take a short nap before the midnight mass.

The midnight mass at Mersing is truly a bizzare experience for those who are used to extravagant decos and large crowds back in KL. But it is nothing short of special. While we sit through mass (sometimes without a priest) and sing carols on the top of our voices in the absence of music accompaniments, feelings of warmth and love engulfs us and I  can safely say it for all of my family that all the havoc was worth it, to be back where it truly feels home for christmas.  At the end of mass, the Murrays who normally make up half of the chapel, would exchange hugs and kisses, and all the she-bang that we went through earlier in the day, would be forgotten.

Christmas at the Murray's HQ is a BIG celebration. And it normally stretches from Christmas eve, all the way to the 27th December. Although my grandfather is no longer lucid, and poor Kristin normally sacrifices her real birthday to have a joint celebration with Grandpa, most family members would join in the fun and prolong the holidays as much as they can.

Today when we look at families with 6 children or more, we wonder why they would put themselves through such a predicament. But i have to admit that, growing up with a large extended family, was the most perfect part of my childhood. As much as we sometimes joke about my Grandpa being psychotic to have 11 kids, i thank him, for the biggest (literally) gift he has given to us. Without the gift of family, i would have never experienced family love the way I did. Yes we fight, badmouth, disagree, and get jealous of each another at one point or another, but at the end of the day, it's about love, loyalty and togetherness.

This year, I will be alone, or probably celebrating Christmas in a much smaller fashion. I will be missing my huge crazy, loving (and sometimes dysfunctional) family. I will be missing our regular cousins' dirty beach getaway  every Christmas night. I will be missing my christmas gifts and yummy spread of food which is normally a product of the hours the aunts spend slaving in the kitchen. I will miss seeing my nieces and nephews and coo about how much they have grown over the past year. I will be missing Sri Malaysia Hotel which is always smells mouldy and gushes coffee colored water through its pipes. I will be missing Grandpa's big birthday, 102 years old this Christmas. I will be missing the morning market's nasi dagang, the salty air, the bread bakery who still uses a charcoal oven to bake their goodies and most importantly, I will be missing Mami, Papa, and my entire family who I love to bits and pieces.

Merry Christmas to the entire Murray Clan! I will be missing you sorely... :(

xoxo
Charlene

Doesn't Take a Dime to be Polite...

Someone of authority told me recently, that I failed at what i did because I was unable to command authority and respect. When I asked what I should have done differently, the answer was, "to insist and command those below you to do what you need them to, by hook or crook".Something in that sentence didn't seem quite right, or moral. Yet that's the way the world is today. U kick, push, blame, crush, annihilate those of competition, to get what you want. Granted I may be living in the wrong age and time, but I still believe that genuine politeness, gets you to everywhere rudeness doesn't get you to.

I was watching Oprah recently and she had a whole episode dedicated to addressing rude people. If there's anything that ticks me off and makes me act like a crazy bitch, it is when people are unnecessarily rude. I stand by the principles that if i don't treat you like shit, you sure as hell have no right to treat me like shit. If I have to decency to be polite, then you damn well be polite if you choose to converse with me.

Maybe I am no leader by any means. But if being polite and understanding makes me less of a leader, then I am at utmost peace with myself.

My Grandfather's Legacy

I've read stories of grandfathers who were super cool and indulging. I've heard stories of cherished memories of grandparents who have left an imprint in their grandchildren's heart, and someone that they can run to when mom and dad decides to wield the cane. The word "grandad' itself, associates with love, compassion, smell of prunes or tobacco, and a wrinkly old teddy bear.

My one and only living grandfather that I have, bears none of the above traits, except that he is also old and wrinkly. For as long as I can remember, my grandfather was a disciplinarian, or rather, someone who was nonchalant. While his children reminisce about their father in his younger days, I couldn't help but notice the blind love and fillial piety they have for him, despite the fact that he was not a very good husband or father. But if there was one thing he did right, it is to father 11 children who worshiped the ground he walked on, and love him unconditionally.

My earliest recollection of my grandfather, was him giving me a whack on my back, over a christmas present that I was fighting with my cousin for. (the present was mine, and my cousin took it). I was too young to have my feelings hurt. Although he never sat me on his knee and told me stories, i have good memories of him. Like how when I used to visit during school holidays, he would buy always me chicken rice on his way back from town (only for me, not even for my mom and dad) and the nursery rhymes he composed which he taught every me and every one of my cousins. He was never affectionate, he never communicated with us much, other than grunts and sighs, but he was a legacy.

My grandfather was a a teacher his entire life. He not only taught at the local town school, he also taught at the local town kindergarden, and  taught tuition at home. He spent most of his life in Mersing, a small town by the sea, so almost every person in Mersing, was taught by him at some point of their lives. He has been a mentor to almost everyone in that town.

When I pass my business card around, people either stare at my card for a few reasons. They are either shocked by the fact that I am not the race they thought i was, or either, my surname brought back memories. As a part of the only eurasian Murray family in Malaysia, if you know another Murray, he/she is definitely related to me. A few days back when i passed my name card at at event. And two men walked up to me and told me that they were students of my grandfather. The recollected the time he used to carry around the big fat "rotan" and told me how my grandfather had changed their lives. For the first time, I was ashamed to have thought that there was nothing great about my grandfather all these while. My grandfather, is a living legacy.

At 102 years old this year, my grandfather might have lost his memory, and find difficulty in moving around independently, but he is still a vivid memory of the many lives that he had touched and changed through his unfailing role and passion to teach.

He might not have been the perfect father, or the typical grandfather, but he left us something greater, a legacy where our family name, was associate with greatness, compassion and dedicated servitude.

What's good for the soul?

As common and mouldy as the saying is, a leopard really can't change its spots. Same goes with people, practices and strategies in human communication can change if we make an effort. But what's inside us, character, instinct and personality is something you can mask, but never really change.

This doesn't mean that all's bad and doomed because we don't really change. For example, if a person is prone to be soft hearted, it's kind of a good thing.. It simply means compassion lives deep within her, and as much as she tries to mask it, when it does surface, it only makes this world a better place.

I have been trying to change all year. My ideals, my dreams and even my personality. B* used to call me a "doormat" as a joke. But in some ways, i knew he was right. Problem is, it wasn't something i could fix since being a doormat was a result of my personality. It was something deep down inside that i would like to think of as the need to be compassionate and emphatise, rather than being in possession of a frail leadership trait. 

But what I failed to realise till the very last few days, that there was one thing I could change, that would definitely make my life a happier one at least. I could learn to ignore. I could learn to distance myself from people who were bad to my personal self growth. I could choose to be more selective over calling people my friends. I could live in my own bubble and still be happy. Whoever said it's a dog eat dog world out there, clearly has a dominating personality, and not to mention a selfish trait, a need to justify the oppression of other people to feel good about himself. It is does not matter if he is right or wrong, but in his defense, he feeds of the fear he instills in others for selfish feel good reasons. 

So here's what I think. This is not a Dog eat Dog world that we make it out to be. Because we think it is, we behave in a certain way as a defense mechanism to protect ourselves which inevitably, has certainly made it more of such. We can co-exist and give in to the possibility that someone out there, who is better than us. We don't always have to be the best, or always right. We can choose to be just great. Our way of accomplishing things, are not the only solution to get things done right or more effectively. We can choose to be selfish and own up that we have taken that choice, rather than find ways to justify our choices. We  can choose at the end of the day, to recognize other people's efforts first, before judging their shortcomings. 

The point behind this whole rambling is, that we don't acknowledge that personalities do not change, but our actions can. I think I am a nice person. Perhaps way too nice sometimes to the point of being a pushover, but I kind of like myself the way I am. At least i'm at peace with it. All I can do, is avoid people who are pushovers, and perhaps admit openly that I know I am at risk of being run over by over ambitious, narcissistic people  and life will be fine and dandy. I don't think I need to change after all. I think I just need to find people who accepts me the way I am, and is open to look beyond my faults, and recognize my efforts.

It's not about you... It's about me.. And it's time I take ownership over celebrating the "me" that I am.