The World According to Ploy

July 31, 2009

How offending…..

Filed under: Angst — by Ploy @ 11:25 pm

I don’t facebook-stalk people often. The times I do, it’s probably because the person has suddenly uploaded a crazy/insane/rather interesting profile picture and I’m like “Oooh! Interesting thumbnail..I must see the full-sized version”

Anyhoo…so just five minutes ago one of my Friends had a rather interesting-looking thumbnail so I went to her profile. And from there I was scrolling down to see if any of my other Friends had recently posted something on her wall. Well, none that I know of, but I found this random person who wrote on this person’s wall…twice. And the message, honestly, was just offending.

Here, this is paraphrased (ish) of course, for confidential reasons.

“I’m applying for an office at XXXXXXXX. Does your dad know anyone there?”

Then…a few hours later, by the same person…

“Hahahaha. Just wanted as much help as I can get. Lots of people want in this office. It won’t be easy.”

How…offending. Considering that XXXXXXXXX is also the place I’m going to apply to.

Ok, so I know there’s a lot of connections and things in Thailand, and I’m not against it. I wouldn’t mind using some if REALLY, REALLY, QUITE fuqSOLUTELY NECESSARY. There are, as I have learned, points in time where you really, really have to pull some strings. But this, really. I know XXXXXXXXX, you don’t apply. You take a FRUGGING EXAM to get in. You don’t even need a resume or work experience or anything. You take a set of multiple choice, a few essays…if you pass that you go on an interview (which, if one comes down to it, is a point where you can pull strings) And then voila, you wait for the results.

But any one with HALF A BRAIN who wants to apply to XXXXXXXXXX probably knows that it’s an EXAM designed so you can’t cheat (ID numbers, no names at all) because clearly, there has to be DIGNITY somewhere in the system. And if you don’t even know that it’s an EXAM then FOR THE LOVE OF CHRIST YOU DON’T EVEN CARE ENOUGH AND YOU DON’T DESERVE TO GET TO WORK AT XXXXXXXXXXX, connections or no.

Heck, by even asking someone for HELP before you’ve even started…before you’ve even TRIED…before you even know there’s NO WAY IN means you don’t care. I mean, using connections should be the LAST RESORT. TRY ON YOUR OWN FIRST.

You offend me, Person, even if I don’t know you and you don’t know me and you’re probably never going to read this.

Ps. As Person is not a Friend (thankfully), I can’t view the wall-to-wall post. I don’t know what my friend said, but as this Friend is a sensible person, I can already guess what was said. Yep, that that reply (or what I think it was) doesn’t offend me at all :]


July 24, 2009

Ploy in Zombie Mode

Filed under: Angst,Sheer Insanity — by Ploy @ 12:26 pm

It’s a very difficult thing to get me depressed for over 24 hours. It really is. Any type of negative emotions – sadness, anger, depression, etc. – don’t usually last overnight. I know I appear uber-active, ridiculously random, and unstoppably insane all the time, but in reality, that’s most of the time. I have my down-time, too, you know.

But those downtimes don’t last. The longest one in recent memory no more than 24 hours. That was when I got my F. I cried – no, wailed – in Starbucks, then had to stop crying because, well, I had to take the BTS home and it wouldn’t do well to appear crazy. I remember listening to “Keep the faith” by KAT-TUN all the way home. No,it wasn’t because of Jin (honestly!). It was actually because the chorus contained the line “You dream, you fall, you get back up.” I listened to it the entire night. I woke up with swollen eyes but I didn’t cry anymore. I just felt depressed. And it got better, somehow. It always gets better. It’s not like I shrug it off, because an undeserved F is not something one shrugs off like an moth-eaten sweater, but because…well, because I just simply get over things.

On the other hand, if a certain event happens to people around me, and I am partially responsible for it, then wow, I can get depressed for a while. I’m not afraid when bad things happen to me because, despite the fact that I’m as small as your average garden gnome, I do believe I have quite a reservoir of inner strength – and also a karate blackbelt to defend myself (i.e. kick anyone who truly, honestly pisses me off.) But when bad things happen to people I love, I freak out, because 1) I’m not sure if it’s going to make them sad and 2) making the people I love sad makes me sad…Ergo, as long as someone around me is sad, I feel sad. My internal hyper battery is immediately drained and I go into standby/zombie mode.

Dava once said I have the messiah complex. In a way, I probably do. Recently, something happened that’s made a few people around me shocked and sad. Perhaps some of it is my fault, perhaps it is not. I don’t know, I truly don’t. Maybe it’s the messiah complex in me making me blame myself. Maybe it is partly my fault. What I know, however, is that these people tried their best and what happened to them is not what they deserved. I might be lenient and cheerful to the point of being ridiculous…but I am also kind. I think that’s better than being foul-mouthed, mean, and cruel.

Bah humbug. Now I’m going to go make another cup of coffee, then crawl under the covers, and stare mindlessly at the TV.

June 7, 2009

An Open Letter to Matrices

Filed under: Angst,Sheer Insanity — by Ploy @ 12:08 am

Dear Matrices,

I’d thought we’d agree to part ways amicably during my senior year, OF HIGH SCHOOL. Oh dear, I apologize for using caps. I’d meant to refrain from using them, because this letter will seem so much more civil without bursts of emotions like that. I am sorry. Though I’m sure you got use to such bursts of temper during our tumultous semester-long relationship.

I must admit that I was first drawn to you because of your name, in singular form: Matrix. It reminded me of, well, the film of said name. But then when I got to know you better, I realized you were in no way, shape, or form, similar to my Keanu Reeves daydream. Plus, you usually go by your plural form. Matrices. It’s cute when you say it, but I must say it did disillusion me.

I haven’t seen you for 4 years. I heard of you, of course, but never ran into you. I must admit that I did all in my power to avoid you. It’s not that I loathe your existence, I’m sure you come in handy for some people, but you and me, baby, it was just confusing memories.

So I must say, I am not quite happy with your reappearance right now. I look at you and I get confused. I frankly don’t know what to do with you. And, like the last time around, this time, you don’t seem to be helping me to understand you better either. You’re you, as always. You’re just…there. You just want me to understand you, but why don’t you do something?! This is why our relationship failed!

But we’ll muddle our way through this, right? I hope this is the last time I see you. I must try to understand you, not for ‘our relationship’, because there won’t be any, but for the sake of at least half a dozen kids who depend on this brief liaison to work.

So, until we part ways again, I’ll remain a very resigned and rather frustrated…


May 29, 2009

Speak clearly, please.

Filed under: Angst,Sheer Insanity — by Ploy @ 11:40 pm

I can speak two languages fluently: Thai and English. Thai was the first language I learned and is the main language I use when, well, I’m in Thailand. I use it at home with my housekeeper. With my parents, I alternate between Thai and English, though when I’m yelling and/or ranting and/or trying to explain that I had nothing to do with the five thousand baht missing in the bank account, I tend to speak in English just because I can’t be bothered to translate anything into Thai.

Even though I’m much more comfortable speaking English, I think I speak Thai pretty well. I know all the words and I enunciate clearly. I hate it when some people speak Thai with an accent…….WHY? Why can you not speak clearly? Is there something in your mouth? Has someone knocked all your teeth out? Is your tongue swollen?

The only, ONLY acceptable reason to not speak a language well is because you don’t have native fluency in it. But when all these Thai MCs come on TV and start speaking accented Thai, I always change the channel. Or if I’m feeling mildly masochistic that day, I watched the entire segment and then sigh to myself. Why butcher a language? Speaking with an accent INTENTIONALLY, with the, well, intent to look cool, is not something to be proud of.

If you’re going to speak in a certain language, speak clearly. Even after years of learning Japanese, I still have an accent…and that EMBARRASSES me. It’s the same reason that, while I’d stay home and self-study French, I’d never enroll myself in a class: because I’ll never be able to master that accent. Look, I see Thai people who don’t dare speak English because they have an Dear God, shouldn’t the logic apply in the reverse situation, that if you don’t speak Thai clearly, then please, don’t dare to say it? Much worse, most of the people with the accent are the ones born and bred in Thailand.

There was this girl on UBC right now (Ms. Inspiration, really) who was advertising some furniture fair. She spoke Thai with an accent, so I though, “Hmm…maybe she’s one of those rich girls who went to school in England or something.” …but then she spoke English, and her accent was somewhere from the South of Bangkok and it grated my ears and I actually growled.

Speaking Thai with an accent, especially when you’re Thai, doesn’t make you look cool. It makes you look, simply idiotic. (Notice how I bold, italicized, AND underlined that.) I’m not one to be a nationalist, but clearly, if it says on your passport that you are Thai, could you please at least ATTEMPT? Or if you speak Thai with an accent, then please, GO FIND SOME OTHER LANGUAGE TO SPEAK FLUENTLY. If you can’t speak clearly in any language at all, then you are a very, very sad person and should go find a hole to, well, hole up in forever.

If someone can send this to those Thai TV channels that hire those dumb MCs, I’ll forever be in your debt. I might even write an entry devoted to you. It will sing you praises, you have my word.

PS. Speaking with an accent, in and of itself, is not wrong. There’s nothing wrong with speaking a language not your own with a trace of an accent, it might even be cute (the Scots!) But when you TRY to speak in an accent, with the ultimate goal of looking cool, therein lies the problem.

May 14, 2009

i hate thailand. – the second issue –

Filed under: Angst — by Ploy @ 11:03 pm
Tags: , , , , ,

A long, long time ago, I wrote a note called “i hate thailand”, in which I complained about how Thai people do not wear sunglasses. Or if they do, they don’t wear it for practical reasons. Sunglasses in malls? What the heck? Why…WHY? I mean, it’s not practical. It does not make you fashionable; it makes you look ridiculous.

Wearing sunglasses when you’re out, however, should be necessary, especially in the summer months were the sun glares like a huge gigantic spotlight in the sky. But no, if I wear sunglasses and walk around on the streets, people would most likely stare and think I’m ridiculous. And the only reason I don’t wear sunglasses in public is not because I’m embarassed, but I fear for the safety of those who might give me weird looks. I don’t want to maim anyone.

That said, I now have a new issue with Thailand. Namely, rainboots. It’s been raining cats and dogs and quite possibly, at the rate it’s going, unicorns, for the past few days. Just last Saturday, actually, my soi flooded. As in water-level-up-to-the-knees flooded. Eww.

I don’t like the rain in Thailand. Whenever it rains, I go into my She-Hulk mode, ask any of my friends. Just the thought of dirty, possibly acidic rainwater hitting my skin or, God forbid, flooding the streets, is enough to piss me off horribly. Rain anywhere else is tolerable, though. I don’t think it gets dirtier in Thailand.

If I had rainboots, however, this would all be ok. I wouldn’t mind trudging through dirty water – with debris and trash floating – if my feet were protected. Bangkok floods, people. The entire city floods. Technically I could drive, but 1) if it floods, I really don’t want the car in that water and 2) I’d still have to get out of my car to open the gate, ergo, I’m still in the water, in the rain. In that mess.






PS. Look at them. They are cute. And so practical. And Thailand in the rainy season would be the only place and time that these cute wellies would look ridiculous. Jesu Cristi…@_@

PPS. – May 15 – I have just been informed by my friend Krit, who lives in London, that the majority of Londoners don’t wear rainboots. If this is true, then it is sad, and disheartening, and may be related, however so remotely, to why GB here lost all their colonies. Hmmph.

February 1, 2009


Filed under: Angst — by Ploy @ 6:35 pm

In your life, you’ll probably find yourself making a few “snap judgments” – to make a decision in a blink of an eye, a second. If you’re lucky, those decisions are not crucial and really don’t matter in the bigger scheme of things. But what if they are? What if that decision you make in a nanosecond does matter?

You know what? I’ll just tell you why I’m writing this. I’m all riled up (other applicable adjectives are shocked, appalled, saddened, halfway to crying, etc) because Chelsea just lost to Liverpool. And I know,I am convinced,I state this with absolute certainty, that they wouldn’t have won (fine maybe they would have, but their chances would be slim) if Frank Lampard was there.

Lampard got a red card. Out of all those 22 people out there on the field today, Frank-friggen-Lampard got a red card.

For not even the right reason.

He aimed for the ball. But then his feet happens to connect with someone’s calves. I don’t actually know the name of that Liverpool dude, because by the time the commentators were describing the situation, the referee had already run up and whipped out a red card. My mind was blank and nothing else registered at that point.

In the slow-mo replay, Lampard was looking at the ball, aiming at the ball, hell, his mind was full-fledged on the ball (I conclude this because his whole body was essentially gravitating toward the ball). He was probably thinking “Aim. For. Ball.” or something. He was certainly not aiming to maim someone. Look, I know that the ref doesn’t have the benefits of a replay and all that, but even the commentator said, “Even if he had to make a snap judgment, just looking at Lampard’s character would help with the decisions. Lampard’s not a person who would do something like that.”

(See, even people without an obsession with Lampard saw that, too.)

On a wider scale, it just got me thinking about snap judgments and all. I hate making snap judgments. If I’m put under pressure to make a decisions, I either a) weasel my way out of it or b) give a very ambiguous answer that I can later clarify once I’ve thought it through.

In my humble opinion, if you’re going to make a judgment about a person’s action, at the very least, consider his/her character, background, past deeds. E.g., if ever one day George W. wins a national Scrabble contest, then it’s probably pure luck. If Oprah’s jumping on her own couch, then she’s probably re-enacting Tom Cruise – Oprah herself is probably not crazy. Which brings us back to the fact that this is Frank Lampard, he who never plays dirty and is rarely violent. If he appears to be kicking someone, then hey, did you even look at the soccer ball rolling not even a meter away?

Gyah. I hope they appeal.
PS. I still think Peter Cech is strange.
PPS. The statement above will be a candidate for the “Understatements of February” award. I have a feeling it might win.
PPPS. Actually, the Academy Awards are later this month. I might make more understatements then. We shall see.

January 29, 2009


Filed under: Angst,Sheer Insanity — by Ploy @ 8:37 am

Not for the first time in my life, I find myself wondering again at what qualifies a person for ‘Native English Speaker’ status.

The first time I wondered that was when I found myself paying an obscene amount for a TOEFL test. And no, that is not an understatement. One hundred and sixty dollars is OBSCENE. I could buy a pretty good bag with that. Or get a few good meals. A couple of shirts for my father from Gieves & Hawk (assuming the transportation to London was already paid for.)

Today, I’ve been sitting at home trying to register for the TOEFL online, as I’m too lazy to walk to the bank (yes, I live within walking distance to banks, supermarkets, hospitals, and other strange things, so while my house certainly qualifies for shack status, I certainly love it because it’s so convenient.) Not to mention if I register online it costs me $160. If I let some office do it for me, they’re charging me $190, where $30 is apparently some kinda service fee. Bleed me dry, why don’t they?

While I’m waiting for the credit card to process, I’m just sitting here wondering…WHY THE HECK DO I HAVE TO TAKE THE TOEFL? I know that my first coherent sentence was certainly not in English. I know that I spent the first five years of my life speaking Thai. But clearly, things have changed and progressed, and while I can communicate in both languages, certainly, my fluency in English beats my Thai. I can’t write a coherent essay or anything formal in Thai.

Ergo, I don’t think Thai strictly qualifies as my mother tongue any more. Thai maybe my first language, but English is my main language.

(Tangential note: I do not mean to boast or sound snobby. Look, if you’re reading this note, most likely you speak English as fluently as those people born in the other hemisphere, or at the very least you can possibly grope your way blindly – figuratively speaking, of course – through the TOEFL. Admit it, you’ve wondered why YOU’ve had to take the TOEFL, too.)

So why do I have to take this TOEFL test again? Is it because I was 1) born in Thailand (a non-English speaking country), 2) to Thai parents (who currently don’t even live here) and 3) reside in Thailand? Is this a racist thing?

Wait! Now that I’ve typed that out…it just really struck me. Is TOEFL a racist thing? Something you impose on people who are not American/American-born or English/UK-born? Something you require a person to take just because they hold a passport from a developing country? Is this discrimination?!

Hmm. Haaaah. Truthfully I think I’m just riled up at the thought of $160. Perhaps if it was $40 dollars or something I would just accept fate. I mean, I can certainly think of the justifications a university would have for a TOEFL requirement…but…one hundred and sixty dollars…sheesh…really.

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