Category Archives: A Little Byq Drunk

Superbyq 6th Anniversary


I can’t believe it is April already. I means, Superbyq is now 6 years old. Hurrah!!!

If it is a human child — a girl, definitely. Superbyq is a girl. If this blog is a little girl, she would probably doing her homework as she has to go to school tomorrow. Or not? Tomorrow is Sunday, isn’t it?

Anyway. If it is a little girl, she would be in primary school. Probably second year already. Anyway… it makes me wonder how old it is the minimum age for a child to be sent to school in the UK. I think it is 5 year old is the age when a child is sent to Primary School.

6 years.


This is definitely the longest serious commitment I have ever made in my life. It is personal, and I have invested so much — material and immaterial.

I know that I should have dedicated more time for this blog, and I do feel bad that I haven’t. But I don’t want to feel bad today, as this is Superbyq’s birthday, and… we’re going to have something to drink tonight…








After five pints of beer, and approximately five hundred terabytes of information exchanged, and five hours sleep, I am awake and rested enough to write something out of my brain.

So, after a long time not meeting new people, I made a new friend yesterday. I wasn’t prepared for this kind of friendship because for me it is a kind of rare thing to have in this part of the world. Basically, I met up with this guy in the city centre yesterday after few weeks of texting.

He is an Asian. To be exact, he is a Chinese Malaysian who studied in Scotland, and has got a new job in Cambridge after spent some times in Norwich. I don’t quite believe in coincidences, but after knowing that all this time we are kind of neighbour, it is funny that we never knew each other. Apart from, of course, we hung out with different people and lived different kind of lifestyle, I sort of see a bit of myself in him.

He reads, he watched good films, he likes science and politics, he listens to cool music and bands, and he writes.

His life in Malaysia as a Chinese-Malaysian was similar with mine when I was in Indonesia. His experience studying in this country, is more or less the same with mine. What he thinks and what he knows kind of mirrored what was in my head for awhile. And talking to him, spending almost the whole day with him did not exhaust me like some people.

I have to admit (and I did admit this to my husband as well), that it is nice to have an Asian friend. I mean a South-East Asian friend with an East Asian cultural background, because of course Asia is a big continent and some people don’t realise that Middle East is a part of Asia too (but that’s not the point). It is nice to have someone who shares similar background with me, who understands what I have been going through and says something that makes sense to me.

Plus this guy is awesome. He is not only sharing the same cultural and regional background with me, he’s also made my brain fizzed and buzzed. All the rusty gears there worked, lubed with five pints of beer, and a lot of swear words. In six chatty hours, we became friends and talked like two old friends. That is weird.

I am glad I met him finally.

I am glad I made the decision to go ahead and meet people. Considering I don’t do this often, it is great to use up all the energy meeting the right people that would contribute something in my development as a person. Don’t you think?



I am not happy lately.

Apart from yes, I am having PMS, I also am not happy with the way things goes in here.

So, some of you might have got a little bit of idea how hard it was for me to get my fiance visa when I was in Indonesia. You knew my journey to get here, and how I had to go back and forth to be in where I am now. However, my fiance visa is just a temporary visa.

It is not even a real settlement visa.

Basically, having a fiance visa means you would be able to come in to this country and get married and get your marriage registered in this country. So it is now legal. However having a fiance visa and then got married in this country doesn’t mean that you are automatically granted a settlement visa (spousal visa or whatever). It means even if I have got married to a UK citizen, I am not allowed to work, to access the national health system (not that I want to use it anyway), and many other things. Even, if I don’t get my settlement visa done in time, I might have to leave this country AGAIN in July.

This is crazy.

Why do they have to ask so many things in the beginning to give me the fiance visa if they couldn’t give me the settlement visa after I got married? Why do they have to make things difficult for me?

I understand that it might be unwise to rant in this blog. But I honestly very much unhappy with the situation here. I think it is mean and unfair that they accepted my money, and my fiance visa application, but require me to do the same all over again, and pay them more money just to be able to stay here a bit longer. I think it is unfair.

My track record is clean. I came here as a student. I never tried to cheat the system. I paid for everything I had in this country. I had enough savings to paid for myself for the next 5 years in this country, or even more. All I want is a piece of paper saying that I can stay here with my husband. That’s all. Why do they have to make it so difficult?

Letters From Home: Don’t Stop Writing


Hey, you know what?

I have received one of the most heart warming letter that I have received for my whole blogging life. I would not post the whole letter in this blog, because there are so many personal things in the letter, but I will tell you the story and why the letter was very important for me.

Few weeks ago, out of boredom I set up a Goodreads account (feel free to add me or to see my book list). From one and many ways, I ended up knowing that one of my old friends has an account there as well. She was a friend of mine when I was studying in high school and was kind of close. It is the kind of closeness an introvert could understand, you know? We don’t really speak that much, but when we talk it is THE important stuff.

I was not surprised that she was there. I know that she was an avid reader and she did read a lot, even more than I did when we were in high school. She was one of the regular in the library.

Some times after that, she sent me a message on Facebook. How bizarre, I thought. I never expected her to initiate a contact with me, mainly because there was nothing big in my life (I can understand that some people start contacting me after I got engaged, because there are something to talk about). But then again, it is something that only introverts could fathom. So I was quite happy to reply to her message.

A short message became a long elaborate story about how time has passed us by. Maybe she packed her good 10 years (since we graduated high school until now), into words. She did it very well, of course, as she was, and is an excellent writer herself. I think it is also good for her to be able to let it out of her system what she wanted to say but could not because of the situation she’s been through. I am quite proud to be someone that shared her story *smug*

In between her stories she also told me that she read my blog. Oh how that has given me the fluttering feeling inside my tummy. I almost forgot about that thrill that has push me to keep writing and improve my writing skill. And she reminded me.

She reminded me why I write. She reminded me that even if I couldn’t change the world with my writing, I could deliver something which is important to few people who read my work. She reminded me the joy of writing, and the pride of an author when she told me about my years writing a short love story in the class for my classmates to read. And I have to admit, I miss it.

In the end of the letter she asked me a favour. She asked me not to stop writing.

My first thought was: why the hell I want to stop writing? I love writing. But then I realised that “love writing” is not the same with “keep writing”. I have been lazy. I haven’t improved since ages ago. My vocabulary stuck in the intermediate level. My grammar is messy. And the worst of all is the realisation that I have not finished a single story since 2007. It’s been seven years.

I think I forgot to thank her for what she has done, and for her beautiful letter. I hope she is still reading my blog so I could thank her in public, so that people would know how important her letter was for me. How it has encouraged me to try again, and to write better than her 😉


Now, gleeks could start playing the “don’t stop believing” tune, but please let me get out from this room first…


Letter from Mr. Fix-It (2)


Of course I had to cut right there. I would need to build some suspense before I finally give up the rest of the letter. However this time I don’t need to write too much introduction. Here’s the last part of the letter:

The “thing” is a personal and private issue, and unless she has mentioned it in this blog, I am certainly not going to say anything about it. I will say that “it” wasn’t any fault of mine, and she felt horrible about the issue.

It meant, understandably, that she couldn’t continue our relationship. That it wouldn’t be fair on either of us. So, over a bottle of wine and lots of tears Byq broke it off.

Im fairly sure that with all the information I had, Byq probably thought that I would slam the door on her face and tell her how awful she had been and how much she hurt me.. all that *drama*. Thing is that I totally understood and sympathised with her situation and I sure as hell wasn’t going to add to her misery by “punishing” her. Fuck that! Besides, she really, really needed a friend. Do you know what I admired most about byq at that time? Her complete and transparent honesty. Technically the things she said *should* have made a sudden ex hostile, or distant. I think some part of her wanted me to hate and punish her. To give her the pain that she thought she gave me. I don’t do things like that…anyway… she told me straight. She was totally honest and she told me how (miserable) she felt. For that I had nothing but admiration and respect…..

I had assumed at the beginning that we would be friends, and that is where I found myself. In many ways that was not “second best” because being friends with Byq is wonderful. I think it was around that time when I told her that she was worth waiting for, and I will continue with the friendship, with no pressure, and wait in case she changed her mind.

We still spent evenings and most nights together. We still chatted about stuff and I listened to the things that were upsetting byq. It was a strange relationship in some ways because we were not “together”, but we held on to each other. I offered friendship and kindness and accepted whatever byq felt she could reciprocate.

Even then I loved her.

I was no doormat though. Even though I loved her I understood clearly the situation. I understood that “more than friends” would not happen. I even told myself not to … say things.. when she stayed overnight. I failed utterly at that side of things. Byq is a tempting drug both intellectually and physically. The love I had for her was tempered and shielded by the fact that she could not reciprocate in good faith. We both understood this.

Life went on… we saw each other regularly. I resisted her efforts to discourage me from passively waiting. Not only is byq worth waiting for, I (possibly arrogantly) knew that she still needed a friend – someone who was there for her no matter what. Someone who would not make demands. Someone to pick her up when she gets low.

Life went on… and a subtle change started. Im fairly sure that my spidey sense noticed it way before anything was said, but still I did not hope or push the matter. I still cared deeply for byq and cared what happens to her – with or without me. I still loved her. She began to slowly change. Become more confident,.. happier, I guess. I knew what she was feeling when she sometimes started to feel uncomfortable around me. Dare I hope??

The night when she told me she had something to say… I had to promise to forget what she was going to utter. I had to promise not to remind her. I agreed. There was a long silence then… those three words that made my heart skip a few beats. Three words mumbled so quickly. I couldn’t hear the words themselves but the sound and cadence.. it could only have been…. “I love you”

…… um….

There you go. That is the beginnings of byq and mr fixit.

It may seem very very odd but I am glad that it happened that way.


Ill tell you why…

Because we had time to get to know each other. We had time to get closer to each other. Because even through the heartaches and confusion and the denials we *still* gravitated towards each other. We grew fonder over time and the initial bond we had grown stronger and stronger.

And now…

And now I simply want her in my life… or rather,  I want to share a life with her. She completes me and strengthens in so many ways I didn’t know possible. We both seem to connect on many levels (pretty good going considering the cultural differences and the fact that I am considered “a bit odd” by most “sheeple”) I love her and that is a fundamental fact. Something I couldn’t change even if I wanted to.


Don’t get me wrong. I didn’t display our romance in the public space just because I want to rub it in everyone’s face about how things went in my life. And even though you might have read what he said about me, please do keep in mind that I am not THAT emotional, and you might have known it after years following my blog.

I just think this is one of many ways I could thank him for being there for me, and to finally introduce him properly rather than keeping him in the dark. After all, I have nothing to hide.


A Letter From Mr. Fix It (1)



I think you have heard the story of us from my point of view, and when I told Mr. Fix-It about it, I thought it would only fair if he could tell the story from his point of view as well. So I asked him to make a SHORT story about it, but I think just like me, he liked to ramble lots of stuffs, so I am so very sorry that this is not going to be a short letter like you probably would expect.

Few weeks ago, Mr. Fix-It finally sent the last draft of his letter and I took the liberty to edit some of the things he said. Of course he didn’t know that even if he is anonymous in this blog, I am not that unknown. It would be very uncomfortable to read a soppy story with too much unnecessary information. So I’d better start posting his letter before I ended up writing the whole entry myself.

So, here’s the letter:

Where do I start?

I guess by saying hello *waves* .

So yeah, I am Mr Fix-it. That amorphous guy lurking around Byq`s blogs. Byq asked if I would like to write something, so here I am…. Struggling with what to actually say and hoping desperately to sound at least vaguely interesting.

It was Byq who coined my name – Mr fix-it. Im not sure if it was insight or coincidence, but thinking about it, that kinda sums me up fairly accurately. I do tend to want to fix things – either physical things like a broken pc or emotional stuff. The irony is that I’m “good with people” and yet im socially reserved (retarded?). I see someone who is upset and my first question is “are you ok?” followed by “do you want to talk about it?”…. its almost second nature to me.  I could philosophise and say that I’m the kinda guy who at a party is in the kitchen or a quiet corner either lurking awkwardly or chatting to a lost soul.

Anyhoos… I’m happy to be Mr fix-it for Byq… I’m very very happy to be her Man, too!

But I’m getting ahead of myself… I don’t think I was fixit straight away. I will recount from my perspective how we met. Bear in mind that I have not fully read Byqyq`s blog, only the stuff she emailed to me.  I wanted to get to know her by the physical and intuitive feelings, rather than words on a page. I may cover old ground…

So… we are both on a social networking site, mainly geared towards dating). She messaged me and gave me a good rating. I checked her profile and liked what I read. I also loved her photos, two especially… I couldn’t stop looking at them.

But… almost fatally.. I thought that I will reply later when I’m feeling a bit more coherent (I work silly hours and am pretty brain dead half of the time).

Time passed and, thank god, she sent a message telling me that she had re read my profile and said I deserve a higher rating.

This time I replied.

I chat, and have chatted to a lot of people online. Sometimes a friendship happens, most times it fizzles after a few weeks or months. Chatting with Byq was different from the start. Even through text I could *feel* a connection – not a mushy one yet, but we were definitely “clicking” (urgh, I hate clichés, but this post will be full of them!). I had no hopes for romance because her profile explicitly stated “friendship only”.  Since I don’t always think with my man-bits, I was totally cool with that

After many email messages, and after establishing that we were not total psychopaths or pervs (or at least gratuitous pervs) we decided to meet for a coffee. She was going to visit her home country and I *really* wanted to meet up and say “hi” in person before she left. I don’t know why it seemed important to me (intuition?) but I asked and she accepted……

…..the meeting…

I got there super early (“there” being a sensible “public place” – internet safety, people. Remember it! Haha) and ordered coffee and started to people-watch. More coffee and more watching, I received a text from Byqy saying she is delayed. No worries, I was happy to chill.

…time passed…

..and then I saw her….

My first and lasting impression was a cute girl in a bright red coat. I had a few moments to look at her before she noticed me. Cute. Definitely cute. We said hello and….

Bugger me.. Mr “im really confident and if not I can fake it” totally lost it. I felt like a stuttering schoolboy and I desperately hoped that it didn’t show!

I cannot remember what we chatted about, but I do remember taking an instant liking to her. We warmed to each other quickly and she was wonderful company. Again, its all a bit hazy because part of me was drinking her in and the other part was trying not to say something stupid and make a tit of myself. After a while we nipped round the corner for a crafty cigarette.

So, yeah. It all happened rather fast. Since we had been.. um.. close… over the weekend I asked if she would be my girlfriend. Ha! Sounds like a schoolboy way of doing things. It was made official – changing facebook status J  – and we started being together as much as we could.

First three weeks were *amazing*.

The fourth week my spidey-sense started tingling.

Now sometimes I am totally blind to things and you need the subtlety of a brick to the head for me to notice. Other times my intuition taps me on the shoulder. This was one of those times. I was convinced something was wrong. I had that “I have fucked up somewhere” sinking feeling, but I just couldn’t place why. Perhaps I was being silly?

I don’t like having that kind of feeling and I am not afraid to challenge it. Or rather I would prefer to know if something was wrong rather than pretend it wasn’t. so I asked Byq if there was anything wrong.

There was.

Sweet and Sour Byq


I am not sweet.

I don’t know what is wrong with me but I am not sweet like most girls I know – my female friends. And some of my blogger friends too.

Not that I don’t want to be the same with everybody. I am more than willing to use the “L” word, which sometimes is scary to me. But I am not sweet.

For example, when I went shopping with Amy yesterday, she was thinking of her boyfriends and bought him something that she thought might be useful for him. I never did that to my boyfriend… well, not anymore. I used to do that, but most of the time it was because my friends were asking me what I was going to buy for my boyfriend. So if no peer pressure, or other kinds of pressure to buy something for my partner, then I would just come home with nice stories about how fun my shopping day was.

I could not make sweet letters for people I care about. Today I read my friend’s blog. She made a project for someone she cares about by making him a letter a day. I did that before for si Onyed, but it was not sweet. It was a series of letter which basically a “guide” to enjoy the Europe tour she was having with her family. Not cute at all. Nothing like what my friend has.

I made some letters for people in my blog too.

But every letter I made was usually… sour. Or should I say, bitchy in a way. I don’t know why I could not just write something nice to other people. Just to make them happy with that.

No wonder some of my friends told me that I was cold. It might be because of how I express, or not express my emotion towards these people. I just think that it is not necessary to sugarcoat things that is not sweet.

Not that I am saying that these people who are sweet like Amy and my friend who apparently blogs too – are not real or genuine. They are genuinely sweet. I just thought if I become sweet it would not be a genuine gesture comes from me. I always have this sarcastic way of expressing things, which for some people are considered rude and annoying. I just could not do what most people do. Sue me.

What I realised then, I could be sweet when I was drunk.

Pour my glass with alcohol, and make me one level above tipsy, and I can be THAT sweet. That is weird.

Some people said that the true personality of a person would shown when they are drunk. In Vino Veritas, that is.

Does it mean that actually deep inside me I am a sweet person, I just sour because of the crap I have been experiencing in my life? Or does it mean I can fake better when I was drunk? Well, I don’t know.

The question is… is it important to be sweet to someone?

I know that some people are genuinely nice. Some people can talk really sweet to other people even to someone they don’t like. Some people can be really sociable. Some people are THAT romantic.

Not that I am not romantic. Well, at least according to Doctor Molecular Biologist, I am a romantic person. I don’t really understand how he said that, but if someone said something about you and you think it is a good thing, just accept it…

Maybe because I have an emotional bonding. Surprise! But I DO!

No matter how distant I might seem to my feeling, but if you look back several weeks before this particular post, you can see how emotional I could be when I was dealing with relationships. And about moving out from the village. I am romantic in that way. I am just… not sweet.

Some people who get the chance  to know me better realised that I am a little bit disconnected when it is related to showing affection. It is not that I have a mental problem or traumatic crap whatsoever. It’s just not easy to show feelings. It might be cultural. It’s easier to blame culture when shit happens.

Oh… are you wondering why I talk nonsense today? Okay… read the category where this post is… voila. ALCOHOL TAAALK!

cheers ~

Every Time I Had Hangover


There was a long history between Superbyq and alcohol. Since I had to buy alcohol from black markets, until now when buying alcohol is as easy as buying crisps at the the nearest Tesco, I always love drinking. I am not alcoholic, or you may say so if you insist, but for me, I am not. I just enjoy drinking.

I should say…

And that’s what happened to me.

As a result, there’s the morning after experience called Hangover. It’s the feeling of severe pounding in your head, sometimes with a little nausea, and your body felt like it’s been beaten by The Rock. I still have bruises in my hand and I don’t know where it came from. It’s bad. Sometimes it’s really bad.

However, somehow, lately I felt responsible to my body. After being high as fuck and killing some of my weak brain cells, I need to treat myself better, don’t I? I mean, after my brain and my liver worked hard to give me those pleasure, i should at least give something in return. Like good food in the morning, or treating myself like Princess to make everything feel better. Don’t I?

So, this morning, after sleeping 2 hours longer than usual (which was one of how I treated myself like a lazy princess), I made myself a very healthy breakfast. A salad: mushroom, tomato, lettuce, sweetcorn, carrot, and chicken breast. Hell yeah chicken breast.

I am always chose thigh over breast. As dirty as it sounds, it’s apparently applicable to any aspects in my life. However, I shall make a little bit of exception, since I had this target with Momo, to lose 12 kilograms before the end of this year, and I need few kilograms of weight lose before I go home this mid June.

So, let me enjoy my hangover today, and Happy Sunday everybody…