and the story continues.......
what happens after you give in to exorbitant demands? someone ask for a ridiculous raise and having no other alternatives, you succumb to the arrogant ultimatum. yes, without any doubt, you'll feel used, cheapened, taken advantage of and a whole range of other unsettling feelings, the least of which being annoyed.
looking at the other side of the scale, i was surprised that the beneficiary of the demand reacted in a very grateful manner to the raise. it was as if the demand itself was a cry for self-validation and the very acceptance of the demand a confirmation of her self-worth. she is at once trying hard to please as well as working to prove that she is indeed worth that amount of money. however, with that crude exercise in power, her efforts are now falling onto hard ground; her betrayal unreversible simply by any pretty words or efficient output. perhaps over time, it will soften the heart?
then again, i believe with time, the enthusiasm will once again dampen and the short-lived effects of the temporary gratitude will pass. how fast the human mind forgets. she will revert back to her usual self in the blink of an eye. things will operate as before, the only difference being the extra money being twisted out of me.
it's not the quantum. it's a small sum if you look at the whole picture. perhaps i shouldn't wrong someone who is merely seeking for a livelihood. to each his own survival.
nevertheless, it proved to be an interesting lesson in human behavioural study.
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
my celebration
i realise that there are a lot of bloggers whose birthday fall in the month of August / September. it's a very popular month, as i've mentioned last year, because exactly 9 months ago, mummies and daddies were very busy getting drunk and high from all the christmas and new year merry-making.
bloggers are naturally people who are conceited and self-preoccupied, why else would they write posts after posts about nothing other than themselves, (don't witch-hunt me, i'm a blogger by definition too). thus, it's only natural that they (ok, generalisation. those that don't, please don't gloat. it's so unbecoming :-p) will advertise their birthday with a post to inform the whole world that they are going to be another year older, screaming to the whole blogosphere to wish them all kinds of best wishes.
so, in line with the guidelines of being a blogger, i want to scream to. i want to shout to tell the world.
MY
.
.
.
.
BIRTHDAY
.
.
.
.
IS
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
bloggers are naturally people who are conceited and self-preoccupied, why else would they write posts after posts about nothing other than themselves, (don't witch-hunt me, i'm a blogger by definition too). thus, it's only natural that they (ok, generalisation. those that don't, please don't gloat. it's so unbecoming :-p) will advertise their birthday with a post to inform the whole world that they are going to be another year older, screaming to the whole blogosphere to wish them all kinds of best wishes.
so, in line with the guidelines of being a blogger, i want to scream to. i want to shout to tell the world.
MY
.
.
.
.
BIRTHDAY
.
.
.
.
IS
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
happy unbirthday to me!!!! yehhhhhhh! break out the champagne. bring out the naked party girls. *hands everybody a party hat and a tooter* let's all celebrate that this is not the day i was born!!
let's celebrate again tomorrow.
Tuesday, August 28, 2007
the x-files
my extended family paid a visit to a 'spiritual adviser' recently, for lack of a better job title. to have a little chat with my grandparents who have long passed away. quite befitting for the ambience of this month, actually. i sat engrossed while they returned and re-told the stories of how the spirits of my grandparents came into the body of the spiritual adviser and recognised each and every relative with amazing accuracy. how my grandmother shook the hand of my aunty with the same affectionate pat and how she claims ownership of the things we burnt for her even when we did not mention the items specifically.
for some it was a very emotional journey, meeting up with closed ones who have moved on. for others, hands were shaking and body quivering. it's a close relative, after all. i would have thought the feeling would be one of immense relief; knowing that they are doing well in the thereafter. my grandmother was wrought with cancer at the very end, a fact that was kept away from her so as to keep the will to live alive in her. we watched with our eyes as she lied helplessly in the icu, frail and weak. it was pure torture to witness her slipping from our hands slowly, no matter how tightly we tried to hold on to her. all she wanted was a few more years, eventhough she didn't know cancer had already won the battle. so, stories of her spirit communicating with us was welcomed with pure relief by me. knowing that she is doing well in her next stage of existence is akin to relieving a large burden. then again, i may also be reduced to a quivering mass of idiocy when and if i personally experience such close encounter.
a couple of nights ago, i awoke in the middle of the night. the smell of burning paper sacrifices filled my nose. having heard of many tales of my grandparents visiting their loved ones soon after their death, i wasn't surprised. i didn't feel any need to search for the source of the scent. be it true or just a figment of my imagination, be it some loved ones watching or just part of my dream, it doesn't really matter. i closed my eyes and went back to sleep.
not long after, i started dreaming. i was getting into the car when i realised the two doors of the opposite sides are open. i got out of the car and closed it. the moment i returned to the seat behind the steering, the two doors opened again. i knew i was being 'disturbed'. fast forward a few panes of dreams that have merged into my subconscious memory, i remember another part where window blinds were flying violently, even with the windows closed.
was the dream a product of my over-active imagination, fueled by much talk of the supernatural during this 7th lunar month or was there some other existence teasing me in my dreams......i don't know. as an ever practical virgo, i believe it's the former. in the case of the spiritual adviser, perhaps what matters most is not whether the other dimension exist or whether there is another life after death but the fact that we are consoled with the thought. for this life, that consolation is enough. knowing that your loved ones have moved on to another place safe and happy and not merely disappeared into oblivion or a state of non-existence, it's comfort enough.
for some it was a very emotional journey, meeting up with closed ones who have moved on. for others, hands were shaking and body quivering. it's a close relative, after all. i would have thought the feeling would be one of immense relief; knowing that they are doing well in the thereafter. my grandmother was wrought with cancer at the very end, a fact that was kept away from her so as to keep the will to live alive in her. we watched with our eyes as she lied helplessly in the icu, frail and weak. it was pure torture to witness her slipping from our hands slowly, no matter how tightly we tried to hold on to her. all she wanted was a few more years, eventhough she didn't know cancer had already won the battle. so, stories of her spirit communicating with us was welcomed with pure relief by me. knowing that she is doing well in her next stage of existence is akin to relieving a large burden. then again, i may also be reduced to a quivering mass of idiocy when and if i personally experience such close encounter.
a couple of nights ago, i awoke in the middle of the night. the smell of burning paper sacrifices filled my nose. having heard of many tales of my grandparents visiting their loved ones soon after their death, i wasn't surprised. i didn't feel any need to search for the source of the scent. be it true or just a figment of my imagination, be it some loved ones watching or just part of my dream, it doesn't really matter. i closed my eyes and went back to sleep.
not long after, i started dreaming. i was getting into the car when i realised the two doors of the opposite sides are open. i got out of the car and closed it. the moment i returned to the seat behind the steering, the two doors opened again. i knew i was being 'disturbed'. fast forward a few panes of dreams that have merged into my subconscious memory, i remember another part where window blinds were flying violently, even with the windows closed.
was the dream a product of my over-active imagination, fueled by much talk of the supernatural during this 7th lunar month or was there some other existence teasing me in my dreams......i don't know. as an ever practical virgo, i believe it's the former. in the case of the spiritual adviser, perhaps what matters most is not whether the other dimension exist or whether there is another life after death but the fact that we are consoled with the thought. for this life, that consolation is enough. knowing that your loved ones have moved on to another place safe and happy and not merely disappeared into oblivion or a state of non-existence, it's comfort enough.
Monday, August 27, 2007
lift etiquette
the lift stopped at the 20th floor. she walked in.
instead of pressing the close button, she turned immediately to study her reflection in the mirror and braided her hair. to lunge forward and press the close button myself will be too obvious. i stood in ackward silence whilst waiting for the automatic closing system to kick in.
she continued to examine her fine self and braid her hair. the lift stopped again at the 17th floor. another lady walked in. just as her hand was hovering above the close button, her handphone suddenly rang. she hesitated for a second before walking out of the lift to answer the phone. again, i waited for the automatic door closing system to kick in as vain lady no. 1 has her hands full still with braiding her hair.
the lift stopped again on the 11th floor. a lady and a man came in and pressed the 7th floor. the door opened again on the 7th floor and the couple exited. lady no. 1 looked at me and said, "it takes forever to reach ground floor, doesn't it?".
most people would have probably taken the polite path and agreed charmingly. it's a much easier alternative for two people trapped within a small confined space. it doesn't really matter what you think; in lift-conversation etiquette, it is good manners to be agreeable. you don't want to start world war 3 in the confines of that small metal box. like when someone says, 'it's a beautiful day today', you're suppose to say, 'oh yes! wonderful day for ....bla bla bla'...eventhough you have not stepped a single foot out of the house today nor looked out of your windows or have any inkling whether a thunderstorm is imminent. you're just suppose to agree. if someone turns to you in mid-lift and says, 'looks like our stock market is going to crash', you're supposed to reply, 'in which case, we should all start selling our stocks', even if the index showed a very healthy rise the last few minutes when you checked. you don't have enough time to start a debate about the how the US subprime mortgage effects will not seriously hurt our market because of the precautionary measures that were implemented subsequent to the 1997 crisis. the person you are talking to isn't actually listening. he's just talking to the air and if it makes you feel a little better about yourself, you can pretend that he is talking to you and agree with him.
however, within that split second before i had to make a decent reply or otherwise be labelled deaf and mute, it struck me that i would be really pretentious if i patronised her like so.
still leaning cooly with one hand against the wall of the lift, my rather tart reply was "that's what happens when you stay in a condo'. well, that's what i really thought, in to the brain out from the mouth.
there goes first impression.
by the way, i didn't catch the look she gave me. nor the mumbles she threw my way. she should be glad i made no inference to the fact that her vanity stood in the way of us reaching our destination faster.
Friday, August 24, 2007
things to do # 1
i just realised that i have never eaten an eggs benedict.
something so simple, so common....something that i have read and heard of a million times over (authors are prone to exaggerate, that's their prerogative) and can be easily ordered anywhere. yet i have never eaten it.
sometimes, in life, you are so engrossed with the big picture that you overlook the small little things. things that you take for granted, simple things that bring you pleasure. setting a small little goal..... achieving it will be easy yet so satisfying. something to look forward to in your days.
i'm making it something that i must do before the end of this year.
to eat an eggs benedict.
now.....if only i know where i can get to eat a yummilicious one.
i'm drooling just looking at the photo.
something so simple, so common....something that i have read and heard of a million times over (authors are prone to exaggerate, that's their prerogative) and can be easily ordered anywhere. yet i have never eaten it.
sometimes, in life, you are so engrossed with the big picture that you overlook the small little things. things that you take for granted, simple things that bring you pleasure. setting a small little goal..... achieving it will be easy yet so satisfying. something to look forward to in your days.
i'm making it something that i must do before the end of this year.
to eat an eggs benedict.
now.....if only i know where i can get to eat a yummilicious one.
i'm drooling just looking at the photo.
Thursday, August 23, 2007
the idealist
little 6yo rolled down the window of the car one day.
after several minutes....
boy: it's so smelly outside!
mummy: why did you roll down the window then??
boy: to let the air in the car clean the air outside.
what an idealist. he thinks the little bit of air we have in the car will somehow make the difference in a world full of smog. our little car of clean air will dilute the environment of its pollutants. an adult's response will be to shut the window and keep the dirty air out, to go about our own as long as all's fine in here.
all children are idealist. until adults dampen their enthusiasm and repeatedly tells them they cannot do it, that they will fail. we put fear in their hearts so that they will not end up hurting themselves. we end up breaking their spirit.
how sad.
children love to imitate their parents.
sometimes, it should be the other way round and we should look to our children for inspiration, for guidance on the way the world should be, for the right attitude.
after several minutes....
boy: it's so smelly outside!
mummy: why did you roll down the window then??
boy: to let the air in the car clean the air outside.
what an idealist. he thinks the little bit of air we have in the car will somehow make the difference in a world full of smog. our little car of clean air will dilute the environment of its pollutants. an adult's response will be to shut the window and keep the dirty air out, to go about our own as long as all's fine in here.
all children are idealist. until adults dampen their enthusiasm and repeatedly tells them they cannot do it, that they will fail. we put fear in their hearts so that they will not end up hurting themselves. we end up breaking their spirit.
how sad.
children love to imitate their parents.
sometimes, it should be the other way round and we should look to our children for inspiration, for guidance on the way the world should be, for the right attitude.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
pandora's box
let me tell you a story......
once there was a goblin who lived in a box, a small little box. as most people will know, a goblin is a mischievious magical creature, prone to creating mischief and making a nuisance of themselves.
this little goblin, called the petty-cash goblin, likes to play around with money; notes and coins. he makes the money disappear and re-appear at random whenever the box owner attempts to reconcile the amount in the box. a $10 short there, a $12.30 extra here....making it virtually impossible to match the figure on the books with the actual amount in the box. as conscientious as the owner is of recording each and every transaction, the amount will never match....because the evil goblin is at work to make everything topsy turvy. he casts an evil 'cantseeruptious' spell and hocus pocus! goes the money in the box. the amounts involved are never substantial....just a few dollar extra or a few cents less; nothing that will make you raise your alarm and sound the battle-call - of that the goblin is certain and oh so cunning and manipulative. the owner can lock the box with keys and chains, double lock it in another box or even to the extreme of employing a surrogate owner....but they are all no match for the evil goblin whose pure joy is derived in watching the owner's bewildered face.
don't be fooled into thinking that this is only one single goblin who lives in one particular box. ask the world over, everybody and anybody who has ever handled a petty cash box....... you'll learn that this goblin comes readily attached with ALL petty cash boxes. no amount of diligence will safe-guard you from the goblin.
once there was a goblin who lived in a box, a small little box. as most people will know, a goblin is a mischievious magical creature, prone to creating mischief and making a nuisance of themselves.
this little goblin, called the petty-cash goblin, likes to play around with money; notes and coins. he makes the money disappear and re-appear at random whenever the box owner attempts to reconcile the amount in the box. a $10 short there, a $12.30 extra here....making it virtually impossible to match the figure on the books with the actual amount in the box. as conscientious as the owner is of recording each and every transaction, the amount will never match....because the evil goblin is at work to make everything topsy turvy. he casts an evil 'cantseeruptious' spell and hocus pocus! goes the money in the box. the amounts involved are never substantial....just a few dollar extra or a few cents less; nothing that will make you raise your alarm and sound the battle-call - of that the goblin is certain and oh so cunning and manipulative. the owner can lock the box with keys and chains, double lock it in another box or even to the extreme of employing a surrogate owner....but they are all no match for the evil goblin whose pure joy is derived in watching the owner's bewildered face.
don't be fooled into thinking that this is only one single goblin who lives in one particular box. ask the world over, everybody and anybody who has ever handled a petty cash box....... you'll learn that this goblin comes readily attached with ALL petty cash boxes. no amount of diligence will safe-guard you from the goblin.
so, when you buy a petty cash box.....look carefully. turn it over and over again and scrutinise it to make sure that it does not come along with an evil goblin.
my friends, this is not an urban myth. this is a real story.....so beware.
Monday, August 20, 2007
dreamercise
i woke up sunday morning with an ache in the left calf. haven't been very active lately, aside from the regular yoga class. was up the whole night running away from a dinosaur though.
saturday night, i was back in my mum's old house, remember it as clear as day. can't remember how it started though but the part where the dino was going bom-bom-bom into the hallway, right behind me was still pretty vivid even after two days. i slammed the door shut and hid in my room....then rushed to the bathroom where there was another door to the adjoining room. some relatives rushed in at the very last minute before i slammed the door shut and locked it. i could see the dino feet sauntering under the door gap.........i ran off to the other door to push the small latch into place. have absolutely no idea how that little metal latch is going to keep the big fierce mean dino out.....but it seemed to work. dreams! who can figure them out!
the usual running, the usual panicking......all of us ran out of the house and somehow ended up in a van. there was another part to the dream but it has all evaporated into my unconsciousness by now.
i do hope i can dream of some sit-ups when i go to sleep tonight.......maybe my abs will be tighter when i wake up in the morning.
saturday night, i was back in my mum's old house, remember it as clear as day. can't remember how it started though but the part where the dino was going bom-bom-bom into the hallway, right behind me was still pretty vivid even after two days. i slammed the door shut and hid in my room....then rushed to the bathroom where there was another door to the adjoining room. some relatives rushed in at the very last minute before i slammed the door shut and locked it. i could see the dino feet sauntering under the door gap.........i ran off to the other door to push the small latch into place. have absolutely no idea how that little metal latch is going to keep the big fierce mean dino out.....but it seemed to work. dreams! who can figure them out!
the usual running, the usual panicking......all of us ran out of the house and somehow ended up in a van. there was another part to the dream but it has all evaporated into my unconsciousness by now.
i do hope i can dream of some sit-ups when i go to sleep tonight.......maybe my abs will be tighter when i wake up in the morning.
Friday, August 17, 2007
friday musings
someone recently commented that i'm always bored. true. a wise philosopher, that'll be me, once said 'with great responsibility comes great boredom'. when your life dictates that you live it in a certain way, and not according to your own whims and desires, boredom will seek you out like a guided missile.
fridays are for being wistful, for reflecting....
quite a long time ago, i set up a blog. one to unite my friends from the different stages of life. a place where strangers can meet and old friends can update others on their latest and newest. it has a very appropriate name too, not one of those 'five seconds one' like this and the previous. it was a place where we could all be ourselves and not hide behind a cloak of anonymity, again like this and the previous.
however, handling two blogs at the same time was a little too taxing and i admit to not paying enough attention to the other. a friend recently reminded me that i have not posted on the blog for the longest time, hence defying the original purpose of the blog. only upon trying to log in did i realise i've forgotten the password and everything else related to the blog, the e-mail address unique to it and all. i've tried all types of combination and all possible answers i can come up with - zilch! i'm locked out of my own blog.
sigh!
it's only when things are gone that we acknowledge its value to us.........but then again, we never seem to learn from the lesson.
fridays are for being wistful, for reflecting....
quite a long time ago, i set up a blog. one to unite my friends from the different stages of life. a place where strangers can meet and old friends can update others on their latest and newest. it has a very appropriate name too, not one of those 'five seconds one' like this and the previous. it was a place where we could all be ourselves and not hide behind a cloak of anonymity, again like this and the previous.
however, handling two blogs at the same time was a little too taxing and i admit to not paying enough attention to the other. a friend recently reminded me that i have not posted on the blog for the longest time, hence defying the original purpose of the blog. only upon trying to log in did i realise i've forgotten the password and everything else related to the blog, the e-mail address unique to it and all. i've tried all types of combination and all possible answers i can come up with - zilch! i'm locked out of my own blog.
sigh!
it's only when things are gone that we acknowledge its value to us.........but then again, we never seem to learn from the lesson.
Thursday, August 16, 2007
me me meme
i'm bored. very bored. i'm blatantly ignoring that pile of papers beside me and i think it's silently sulking now. good! i don't care. (when i'm carrying on a conversation in my head with a pile of documents, i know it's time i'm more proactive in combating boredom).
when i'm bored, i rant. on and on and on. so, you can bail out whilst it's still early or follow the bumpy ride. for those coming along with me, i salute you, for putting your life at risk....of being bored by me. see my point? i'm whining pointlessly.
my psychiatrist recommends that i do a meme in these dire circumstances. an excuse for me to blab endlessly. i've been tagged by ms not-so-blur annie. arrrrgggghhhhhh *falls down to floor in exaggerated slow-motion*
*tears open the docket...reading instructions*
the mission, should you choose to accept it, is to............remove the blog in the top spot from the following list and bump everyone up one place. Then add your blog to the bottom slot, like so: (Then highlight, copy and paste onto your own blog entry. It actually copies the website path too - liar!! it does not!! i had to do the link again *pout*)
ta ta exordinarily ordinary. *kicks the blog off the list*
1. Midnite Lily.com
2. Mistyeiz
3. Wuching
4. Annie
5. ME, me.....that's me (mummy! mummy! i'm on the list!)
when i'm bored, i rant. on and on and on. so, you can bail out whilst it's still early or follow the bumpy ride. for those coming along with me, i salute you, for putting your life at risk....of being bored by me. see my point? i'm whining pointlessly.
my psychiatrist recommends that i do a meme in these dire circumstances. an excuse for me to blab endlessly. i've been tagged by ms not-so-blur annie. arrrrgggghhhhhh *falls down to floor in exaggerated slow-motion*
*tears open the docket...reading instructions*
the mission, should you choose to accept it, is to............remove the blog in the top spot from the following list and bump everyone up one place. Then add your blog to the bottom slot, like so: (Then highlight, copy and paste onto your own blog entry. It actually copies the website path too - liar!! it does not!! i had to do the link again *pout*)
ta ta exordinarily ordinary. *kicks the blog off the list*
1. Midnite Lily.com
2. Mistyeiz
3. Wuching
4. Annie
5. ME, me.....that's me (mummy! mummy! i'm on the list!)
then i name my victims! hehe. *raises eyebrows* let's see, who hasn't done the tag yet....
1. Sengkor. see you so long didn't update....give you a chance to post something.
2. Ian Liew. this one has been very quiet recently. *nudges* don't be so lazy little one, this one is to get you off your bum.
3. this one posts so many new updates in so many blogs, i can't even keep track whether he has done it before. nonetheless, i tag ah pek to return the favour of always tagging me......(which reminds me....i think i've an outstanding one from him and wuching. errrrr....shhhhhhh!)
4. hmmmm......i'm in the mood for some kfc.....kok-kok-kokok...where are you??
5. ehh.....how to tag? there aren't many people who read my blogs who haven't been tagged. *sulking* so....i tag YOU!!!! if you are a blogger, you haven't been tagged on this meme and you are reading this, you have already fulfilled the three conditions on which compulsory compliance is necessary. in simple english, you have been tagged, so what are you waiting for? get off your bum and do the tag! now!
on with the tag. i haven't been called long-winded in the longest time by the impatient people who visits my blog....so i thought i'll indulge today....since my paperwork is still sulking and not talking to me.
What were you doing 10 years ago?
yes, a fine question to ask ms amnesic. anybody who's worthy of being called my friend will know that i can't even remember what happens last week, much less 10 years ago. let's see, i was 26 - 1997. that shouldn't be too difficult. hong kong's handover to china. memorable year.....for the hong kong citizens!! not me! *flips through photo book*....went to sydney, visit from long-distance friend......no help whatsoever. ok...let's do it this way.....anybody who can tell anything memorable or special that i was doing 10 years ago gets a free meal from me! hmph!.....no! wait! it's the year i completed my part-time master's degree. yehhhhh! i remembered!! what a clever little girl i am! *pats self on head*
What were you doing 1 year ago?
unlike the others with failing memory (:-p), i don't need my blog archive to remind me of what i was doing a year ago. another way of looking at it will be they are ever so lucky to have the year passed by without some great unforgettable tragedy to mark it. i don't need to look into my archives to know i was grieving for the absence of a very good friend, trying very hard to come to terms with the torrential flood of emotions and coming to grip with reality. sigh! who's the idiot who is bringing up sore wounds??
Five snacks you enjoy:
this little piggy loves all types of snack, savoury more than sweet. on my 13th birthday, away from the hawk eyes of parents and spending the day all by myself, i bought the biggest collection of snacks and spent the day pigging out on nothing but snacks infront of the television all day.
1.crisps - lays, ruffles and walkers only (i've got exquisite taste buds
2.chick peas! yehhhhhh!
3.those mixed indian whatchamacalit thingy...
4.sour plums, mangoes and papayas. *salivating*
5.chocolate bars - to keep the blues away
but i love all snacks....so bribe me, bribe me!!
Five songs that you know all the lyrics to:
0. another strange thing about me. if you play the music to any 80s song and some 70s and 90s song, chances are more often than not i can sing along from start to end. but i can't tell you the name of the song nor the singer. and if it's purely music, without any accompanying singer....i won't be able to peep a single word. i can't even begin to explain, much less understand, how my brain works.
Five things you would do if you were a millionaire:
1.continue working?
2.continue being a slave to my life?
3.continue blogging?
4.continue ignoring the pile of work next to me?
5.look for good investment :-)
Five bad habits:
1. i'm too lazy....blame it on low metabolism
2. i'm too critical...of myself and others.
3. i eat when i get stressed and bored.
4. i'm obsessive in everything i take on.
5. i'm too moody.
6. i'm too practical.....five only? i can go on and on..........
Five things you like doing:
1. sitting in a coffee place on a rainy day
2. watching a good movie / reading a good book....but sometimes, like now, i'm just too impatient to sit still and let the clock tick tock by.
3. day-dreaming and letting my thoughts run
4. crafts
5. chatting with friends
Five things you would never wear again:
1. mini-skirt........prob should change the title to 5 things i can never wear again.
2. flat shoes - for the simple reason i'm short.
3. clothes with lace touching the skin......i'll much sooner wear a burlap
4. i.u.d......never did, never will :-p
5. big grandma panties.
Five Favorite Toys:
1. my daughter. hehe
2. my son. hehe
3. my husband. hmmmm...
4. MY nds. kids think it's theirs but it's mine, i'm telling you. MINE!
5. my darling
phew! that was a long one. i'm exhausted. taggees, go forth and multiply.
now, everybody get out before the docket explodes in our faces!!!! go! go! go!
i'm new...aha! aha! i'm new
isn't she absolutely adorable??
i'll stare at her for a few more weeks before i decide on something else....or puke at the cuteness, whichever comes first. i'm really bored with the old theme and i've expanded all my energy today to look for a new one. except that there really isn't much i like on the big bad web out there. nothing that i don't have to pay for anyway. (cheapskate!)
i like the more sensuous themes that the lady came up with....but as my readers are already having a field day with their imagination on this writer's appearance, i better not encourage further.
if anybody notices that their links are missing and is pouting, *muacks* don't fret. i'm just too wasted to go any further. i'll put it up again very soon, scout's honour....only i was never a scout or a girl guide. :-p
i'll stare at her for a few more weeks before i decide on something else....or puke at the cuteness, whichever comes first. i'm really bored with the old theme and i've expanded all my energy today to look for a new one. except that there really isn't much i like on the big bad web out there. nothing that i don't have to pay for anyway. (cheapskate!)
i like the more sensuous themes that the lady came up with....but as my readers are already having a field day with their imagination on this writer's appearance, i better not encourage further.
if anybody notices that their links are missing and is pouting, *muacks* don't fret. i'm just too wasted to go any further. i'll put it up again very soon, scout's honour....only i was never a scout or a girl guide. :-p
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
i'm watching ya...ep. 3
ahhhhhhh! another week. how fast time flies.
with the same (of course not the exact same one, you'll think it's breeding worms by now) ice tea in hand, i'm stalking my regular haunt, watching jiggling boobs walk past. reminds me a little of jello. would be nice to poke and watch it jiggle, like how we are fascinated with the wibbling and wobbling of jellies, but i will definitely be slapped, called perverted and put behind bars. but............but......................that lady, with the spaghetti strap and a neckline with half of the jellies spilling out is screaming out for some kind of comments.
a group of ladies just walked past........and the ground actually vibrated. like a mini earthquake. wow! enlightening. waiting for a group of men to walk past to confirm whether it applies to both sex.....
a man, with the biggest belly, strolled by. in a pink shirt, nonetheless. hand supporting his back. reminds me of pregnant women. must have realised i was staring at him because he dropped his hand immediately.
*looking outside wistfully* it's a dark and rainy day today. i wish this coffee place was a little more like the other one...where you can look out and watch the pitter and patter of the rain on the windows. with a cup of warm tea in hand, soft music in the background......i love rainy days. makes me feel all warm, soft and cosy inside.
today's one hour passed by in the shortest of time. i have no idea why. i haven't even begun to loosen those shoulder muscles or confirm my 'ground-shaking' theory. sigh! haven't even found any toblerone, m&m's or snickers eye-candies to drool over.
back to the real world......
with the same (of course not the exact same one, you'll think it's breeding worms by now) ice tea in hand, i'm stalking my regular haunt, watching jiggling boobs walk past. reminds me a little of jello. would be nice to poke and watch it jiggle, like how we are fascinated with the wibbling and wobbling of jellies, but i will definitely be slapped, called perverted and put behind bars. but............but......................that lady, with the spaghetti strap and a neckline with half of the jellies spilling out is screaming out for some kind of comments.
a group of ladies just walked past........and the ground actually vibrated. like a mini earthquake. wow! enlightening. waiting for a group of men to walk past to confirm whether it applies to both sex.....
a man, with the biggest belly, strolled by. in a pink shirt, nonetheless. hand supporting his back. reminds me of pregnant women. must have realised i was staring at him because he dropped his hand immediately.
*looking outside wistfully* it's a dark and rainy day today. i wish this coffee place was a little more like the other one...where you can look out and watch the pitter and patter of the rain on the windows. with a cup of warm tea in hand, soft music in the background......i love rainy days. makes me feel all warm, soft and cosy inside.
today's one hour passed by in the shortest of time. i have no idea why. i haven't even begun to loosen those shoulder muscles or confirm my 'ground-shaking' theory. sigh! haven't even found any toblerone, m&m's or snickers eye-candies to drool over.
back to the real world......
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
ouch
what is it with me and burns anyway?
when i was 11, this classmate was curious about the consequence of hot rubber seed on human skin. so, the inquisitive little bunny rubbed a rubber seed vigorously until it was all hot and then placed it on my hand. i can't remember the aftermath but he (yes, only a 'he' can be such an idiot) must have survived the incident because i still see him around and i was never charged for any homicide. that left a scar on my hand, which paled only after another 5 years.
in my 20s, amidst some very disorganised kitchen maneuvers, hubby scalded me with a pot of hot water. that also left a mark of my tummy and wariness whenever he has in his grasp anything similarly hazardous.
seems like i never learn from past experience. last year i walked out of the car and straight into the burning-hot exhaust of a recently parked motorcycle. the numerous agonising and traumatic wound-scraping and cleaning visits to the doctor is imprinted deeply into my brain....for perhaps another couple of years, at least.
sigh! a few days ago, the simple act of lifting the cover off a boiling pot ended up with yet another big burn, the size of a plum, on my hand. a big red and angry, now turning brown, mark.
i'm clumsy, that is a universally known fact and is highly supported by a legion of evidences. there isn't much place left for me to deform on my self so i must be fastidious and choose my battles.
in the meantime, any readers stalking me, if you see any lady with a big brownish red blotch on her hand, you'll know it's me. recognition is offered for a limited period only, until the scar fades.
when i was 11, this classmate was curious about the consequence of hot rubber seed on human skin. so, the inquisitive little bunny rubbed a rubber seed vigorously until it was all hot and then placed it on my hand. i can't remember the aftermath but he (yes, only a 'he' can be such an idiot) must have survived the incident because i still see him around and i was never charged for any homicide. that left a scar on my hand, which paled only after another 5 years.
in my 20s, amidst some very disorganised kitchen maneuvers, hubby scalded me with a pot of hot water. that also left a mark of my tummy and wariness whenever he has in his grasp anything similarly hazardous.
seems like i never learn from past experience. last year i walked out of the car and straight into the burning-hot exhaust of a recently parked motorcycle. the numerous agonising and traumatic wound-scraping and cleaning visits to the doctor is imprinted deeply into my brain....for perhaps another couple of years, at least.
sigh! a few days ago, the simple act of lifting the cover off a boiling pot ended up with yet another big burn, the size of a plum, on my hand. a big red and angry, now turning brown, mark.
i'm clumsy, that is a universally known fact and is highly supported by a legion of evidences. there isn't much place left for me to deform on my self so i must be fastidious and choose my battles.
in the meantime, any readers stalking me, if you see any lady with a big brownish red blotch on her hand, you'll know it's me. recognition is offered for a limited period only, until the scar fades.
quantifying attachment
how do you quantify an eight-year old relationship? an eight-year period of trust, friendship, acceptance and of seeing each other through some significant events in their life.
my domestic helper has been with me for 8 years and seen me through the birth of both my children and moving of two abodes. without realising it, she has become a part of the family. she has unconsciously became a part of my life, my lifestyle. the tales of what we do for each other will be a never-ending roll of destiny.
recently, however, she found a way to quantify this long and deep relationship. she asked for a 30% increment to renew her contract for the 9th year. not a single cent less.
i can't help the sense of betrayal that creeps in over me. whilst an increment is definitely due, a demand for an excessive quantum reeks of extortion. insisting on sticking so firmly to the figure and not accepting even a little less portrays her obvious discard of all feelings towards our relationship. a little sad at realising that to her it is merely a job after all. how can you see someone day in day out for eight years without growing an attachment to them? if only it had been so easy for me to reign my feelings.
with that one sentence, everything changes. 8 years of attachment trampled and insulted. all feelings thrown out the window. invisible strings of affection reduced to merely figures on a piece of paper.
how cold the world is. how materialistic people are.
my domestic helper has been with me for 8 years and seen me through the birth of both my children and moving of two abodes. without realising it, she has become a part of the family. she has unconsciously became a part of my life, my lifestyle. the tales of what we do for each other will be a never-ending roll of destiny.
recently, however, she found a way to quantify this long and deep relationship. she asked for a 30% increment to renew her contract for the 9th year. not a single cent less.
i can't help the sense of betrayal that creeps in over me. whilst an increment is definitely due, a demand for an excessive quantum reeks of extortion. insisting on sticking so firmly to the figure and not accepting even a little less portrays her obvious discard of all feelings towards our relationship. a little sad at realising that to her it is merely a job after all. how can you see someone day in day out for eight years without growing an attachment to them? if only it had been so easy for me to reign my feelings.
with that one sentence, everything changes. 8 years of attachment trampled and insulted. all feelings thrown out the window. invisible strings of affection reduced to merely figures on a piece of paper.
how cold the world is. how materialistic people are.
Friday, August 10, 2007
out of grasp
sometimes life isn't about what you can make of it or what you want it to be. there are things beyond your control...things that you can only take a deep breath and swallow.
i can't stand to be victimised. i'm not one of those poor little things that you will see on tv which will bear the brunt of everything, whilst not daring to let out even a single peep. i'm the type to shout when i'm beaten, the one who kicks back when i'm hit, who will fight back......but there are times when life doesn't accord you that luxury.
i find myself being forced into a position where i have to live a lie for someone else. telling a lie is something that goes against the very principle of my life. i can tell it as good as the next tom, dick and harry...but i want to be able to sleep at night, to have a heart that is as light as the lark. so, i choose not to. but i have been thrust into this situation. a situation i have no way out of. and i'm wilting inside this hell-hole.
a situation where i feel nervous when the other person fucks up.....because the stakes are too high. i've always believed 'to each his own'. everybody has different believes, different opinions, different taste, different needs, different priorities and different ways of doing things. there's no right and wrong and we shouldn't judge. still, for whatever you choose or whatever you do, it's your right...as long as you are prepared to live with your choices. now, i realise no man's an island. life's filled with contradicting theories. what if your choices hurt others? can you live with being happy at the expense of others' misery? i don't want to be feel guilty about other people's shit. isn't it enough that i have my own? everybody knows, don't complicate lfe.....but sometimes, that is out of your hand. other people complicate it for you.
it's no longer about my life and what i want to do with it. it's also about the people around me and what i can live with. i feel cornered and so helpless.
i can't stand to be victimised. i'm not one of those poor little things that you will see on tv which will bear the brunt of everything, whilst not daring to let out even a single peep. i'm the type to shout when i'm beaten, the one who kicks back when i'm hit, who will fight back......but there are times when life doesn't accord you that luxury.
i find myself being forced into a position where i have to live a lie for someone else. telling a lie is something that goes against the very principle of my life. i can tell it as good as the next tom, dick and harry...but i want to be able to sleep at night, to have a heart that is as light as the lark. so, i choose not to. but i have been thrust into this situation. a situation i have no way out of. and i'm wilting inside this hell-hole.
a situation where i feel nervous when the other person fucks up.....because the stakes are too high. i've always believed 'to each his own'. everybody has different believes, different opinions, different taste, different needs, different priorities and different ways of doing things. there's no right and wrong and we shouldn't judge. still, for whatever you choose or whatever you do, it's your right...as long as you are prepared to live with your choices. now, i realise no man's an island. life's filled with contradicting theories. what if your choices hurt others? can you live with being happy at the expense of others' misery? i don't want to be feel guilty about other people's shit. isn't it enough that i have my own? everybody knows, don't complicate lfe.....but sometimes, that is out of your hand. other people complicate it for you.
it's no longer about my life and what i want to do with it. it's also about the people around me and what i can live with. i feel cornered and so helpless.
low-key
shhhhhhh.............
i'm trying to be as quiet as possible....tiptoeing around and hiding inconspicously in the shadows...
my boss is back.....and i don't want him to remember i exist.......
i'm trying to be as quiet as possible....tiptoeing around and hiding inconspicously in the shadows...
my boss is back.....and i don't want him to remember i exist.......
Thursday, August 09, 2007
an hour's break
computer day again. damn! no little boys for me to scar permanently today. nothing to do except hang out at my usual coffee bean, sipping my usual cup of ice tea, freezing my butt off in my not so-usual seat under the not-so-usual air-cond, watching people as they go by.
...watching that chef in his uniform, sitting there smoking. i'm not quite sure i will trust his cooking, bitchy that it sounds. doesn't respect his uniform.....though that probably has nothing to do with his cooking skills.
...watching that long-haired man talking to his friend. what is it with men and pony tails? frontview they are rapidly balding, so they feel they have to compensate by leaving it long at the back...to show that they can still grow hair? or is it like the chicken and egg situation; the excessively long hair making him grow bald? call me bias....i don't like men whom i can't tell the gender from the back. whatever happened to men with deep gruff voices that make your knees melt the moment you hear their voice? all i hear now are squeeks. whatever happened to the male testosterone? something to do with eating too much hormone-injected chicken, i think.
...watching other people on their laptops.....spying actually. i don't know what is it about people on laptops in places like coffee bean and starbucks. everybody is curious about what they are doing on theirs. not like we are going to watch porn in a public place! i'm like that too. whenever i walk past someone on one, i'll steal a glance.........or two. hahahaha *evil laugh* hmmmmm....no one's blogging like me. how boring!
damn! all these perverted people ........pretending to take things from the sugar and straw table behind me, whilst trying to look over my shoulder at what i am doing on my laptop. busybodies! hmmm....that sounds familiar.....let me change to the opposite seat to twart these busybody buggers....
...watching two men talking. trying not to eavesdrop. dah! dah! dah! dah! i can't hear! i don't want to hear! trying very hard!!
...watching the flag over my head. there's a malaysian flag above me! when i think of the national day, i think.."damn! i'm not going anywhere for the holiday". that's how patriotic i am. they should pull me out and shoot me. i think we are made to feel like it's not our country....hence i don't feel like part of it. used to.....past tense. 'nuf said.
....watching that long-haired man in front of me. why is he in front of me again??!! i just changed seat to the opposite side. *whips around* not only did he move from the place that was infront of me (now behind me) but he moved the chairs and table too!!!! it's all empty where he sat!! people don't just change seat, they even bring their seats (and table) with them!!! this is sure a strange coffee place.
...watching this western man sitting with his african-american man. reminds me of my father's friend who watched over me when i was studying overseas. he cut out 'garfield' from his dailies and regularly send them to me to cheer me up on those lonely days abroad. i've never met a person sweeter than that, with no ulterior motive. i didn't attend his funeral when he passed away or visited him more often when he was getting weak, something that i will always regret. 13 hours flight is nothing when compared to the loss of such a lovely man. wish i was more expressive about my fondness and gratitude for him.....then again, it's hard to break the years of training and invisible emotional bondage that is so typical of asian folks.
my hour is up. till next week......
...watching that chef in his uniform, sitting there smoking. i'm not quite sure i will trust his cooking, bitchy that it sounds. doesn't respect his uniform.....though that probably has nothing to do with his cooking skills.
...watching that long-haired man talking to his friend. what is it with men and pony tails? frontview they are rapidly balding, so they feel they have to compensate by leaving it long at the back...to show that they can still grow hair? or is it like the chicken and egg situation; the excessively long hair making him grow bald? call me bias....i don't like men whom i can't tell the gender from the back. whatever happened to men with deep gruff voices that make your knees melt the moment you hear their voice? all i hear now are squeeks. whatever happened to the male testosterone? something to do with eating too much hormone-injected chicken, i think.
...watching other people on their laptops.....spying actually. i don't know what is it about people on laptops in places like coffee bean and starbucks. everybody is curious about what they are doing on theirs. not like we are going to watch porn in a public place! i'm like that too. whenever i walk past someone on one, i'll steal a glance.........or two. hahahaha *evil laugh* hmmmmm....no one's blogging like me. how boring!
damn! all these perverted people ........pretending to take things from the sugar and straw table behind me, whilst trying to look over my shoulder at what i am doing on my laptop. busybodies! hmmm....that sounds familiar.....let me change to the opposite seat to twart these busybody buggers....
...watching two men talking. trying not to eavesdrop. dah! dah! dah! dah! i can't hear! i don't want to hear! trying very hard!!
...watching the flag over my head. there's a malaysian flag above me! when i think of the national day, i think.."damn! i'm not going anywhere for the holiday". that's how patriotic i am. they should pull me out and shoot me. i think we are made to feel like it's not our country....hence i don't feel like part of it. used to.....past tense. 'nuf said.
....watching that long-haired man in front of me. why is he in front of me again??!! i just changed seat to the opposite side. *whips around* not only did he move from the place that was infront of me (now behind me) but he moved the chairs and table too!!!! it's all empty where he sat!! people don't just change seat, they even bring their seats (and table) with them!!! this is sure a strange coffee place.
...watching this western man sitting with his african-american man. reminds me of my father's friend who watched over me when i was studying overseas. he cut out 'garfield' from his dailies and regularly send them to me to cheer me up on those lonely days abroad. i've never met a person sweeter than that, with no ulterior motive. i didn't attend his funeral when he passed away or visited him more often when he was getting weak, something that i will always regret. 13 hours flight is nothing when compared to the loss of such a lovely man. wish i was more expressive about my fondness and gratitude for him.....then again, it's hard to break the years of training and invisible emotional bondage that is so typical of asian folks.
my hour is up. till next week......
Wednesday, August 08, 2007
things i can't understand #2
what are we suppose to do with origamis after we have enjoyed the orgasmic process of making it? everybody knows making origamis is all about the folding and creasing....but what do you do with your hundreds of cranes, japanese kimonos, lilies, frogs and whatever twisted products the book taught after you are done with it? pull up a chair, watch it catch dust and take up space? how entertaining. are we suppose to *sob* dump our creations into the big bad wastebasket? then there should be a final chapter after the "voila! and you have a crane!".....a "how to deal with the post-traumatic stress of destroying your creations with your bare hands". who came up with the idea of creating useless rubbish and wasting a lot of time in the process anyways? by the way, i enjoy origami. *hits own head*
little pieces
day in, day out..wondering what to cook, what to put on the table. such a tedious process. takes away all the passion i had for cooking. cooking under the pressure to please is quite exhausting. i'm not the type to conform, to do what others do, to live the life of a billion other housewives. i'll wilt.
8yo likes to talk before she closes her eyes for the night. whilst i'm nagging her to keep quiet and go to sleep, she'll tell me little pieces of story from here and there. i'm such a bad mother. she's sharing with me a part of her day and i'm reminding her that it's past bedtime and that she'll feel sleepy tomorrow if she doesn't get enough sleep. motherhood - always torn between what's correct and what's best. next time, i'll have to remind myself to shut up and listen to her precious little stories.
6yo walks and talks (if not scream) in his sleep. must be heriditary. i'm famous for my midnight escape attempts too. have to check everynight that the doors to the balconies are locked. visualising his little body falling 25 stories down freezes me with fear sometimes, yet i cannot stop my mind from conjuring up those gruesome images. blame it on my over-active imagination.
i've always thought i never learned the word 'independent' despite all those years spent away from the family. my days alone didn't make me stronger or tougher, as did those other children in similar circumstances. but now, after all those years, i realise it made me into a very individual person, without my even realising so. a person who can't stand to conform. a person who needs her space. a person who can't stand to be one of the herd of sheep. or is it just old age and eccentricity?
no, don't answer that.
8yo likes to talk before she closes her eyes for the night. whilst i'm nagging her to keep quiet and go to sleep, she'll tell me little pieces of story from here and there. i'm such a bad mother. she's sharing with me a part of her day and i'm reminding her that it's past bedtime and that she'll feel sleepy tomorrow if she doesn't get enough sleep. motherhood - always torn between what's correct and what's best. next time, i'll have to remind myself to shut up and listen to her precious little stories.
6yo walks and talks (if not scream) in his sleep. must be heriditary. i'm famous for my midnight escape attempts too. have to check everynight that the doors to the balconies are locked. visualising his little body falling 25 stories down freezes me with fear sometimes, yet i cannot stop my mind from conjuring up those gruesome images. blame it on my over-active imagination.
i've always thought i never learned the word 'independent' despite all those years spent away from the family. my days alone didn't make me stronger or tougher, as did those other children in similar circumstances. but now, after all those years, i realise it made me into a very individual person, without my even realising so. a person who can't stand to conform. a person who needs her space. a person who can't stand to be one of the herd of sheep. or is it just old age and eccentricity?
no, don't answer that.
Tuesday, August 07, 2007
how do i love thee?
for the guys
she's your ideal life-partner. sweet, sexy, adorable and she talks with this syrupy voice that is to die for. you can just imagine spending the rest of your life with her. she's so loving, so giving, she'll be the ideal mother of your children. well, be very prepared, because she's going to turn into a shrew in the blink of an eye. don't blink!...............too late! that syrupy voice will turn shrill and mocking when she screams at the children to behave and finish their homework. that sexy body will be all loose and saggy from childbirth. forget about pampering that smooth hot body she had, she doesn't even have time to sit down and take a breather. her body will act as a nice substitute for sandpaper for that woodwork you're doing in the garage. yes, she's a perfect mother for your children....hell! she's starting to look like your mother too!! that sweetness will be tired, grumpy and cynical. that adorable wants to hold you tightly in between her hands...............and strangle you for not lifting a hand to help.
for the girls
that hunk that you dreamt about day after day finally asked you out for a date. he's attentive, generous and gentlemanly. you swoon and start planning your wedding. i've got news for you, girl. he's going to lose that thick crown of hair and carry a spare tyre around his tummy just incase the family car's tyre punctures. he'll still think he's god's gift to women....only doubly so because of the double in size now. he's still attentive.....it's just that his attention is not focused on you. he's charming the covers off the sofa on which he lounges everynight, putting his leg up on the coffee-table, not bothering to help with the chores. that understanding man is understanding the game scores after dinner night after night.... and he lavishes you generously with all the housework and bringing up the children.
will you still remember why you love her / him ?
do you love with a reason or with your heart?
when the reasons change, will your love change? when the reasons no longer exist, will your love die? or have you found new reasons to sustain your love? what if there is no new reason?
if you loved with your heart.....will your heart never change? will it remain loyal, through tides and time, when everything else around changes, including yourself and your partner?
what then?
author's note: when a woman writes about men, readers automatically assume she's talking about her husband. fyi, it's just a cynical observation.
she's your ideal life-partner. sweet, sexy, adorable and she talks with this syrupy voice that is to die for. you can just imagine spending the rest of your life with her. she's so loving, so giving, she'll be the ideal mother of your children. well, be very prepared, because she's going to turn into a shrew in the blink of an eye. don't blink!...............too late! that syrupy voice will turn shrill and mocking when she screams at the children to behave and finish their homework. that sexy body will be all loose and saggy from childbirth. forget about pampering that smooth hot body she had, she doesn't even have time to sit down and take a breather. her body will act as a nice substitute for sandpaper for that woodwork you're doing in the garage. yes, she's a perfect mother for your children....hell! she's starting to look like your mother too!! that sweetness will be tired, grumpy and cynical. that adorable wants to hold you tightly in between her hands...............and strangle you for not lifting a hand to help.
for the girls
that hunk that you dreamt about day after day finally asked you out for a date. he's attentive, generous and gentlemanly. you swoon and start planning your wedding. i've got news for you, girl. he's going to lose that thick crown of hair and carry a spare tyre around his tummy just incase the family car's tyre punctures. he'll still think he's god's gift to women....only doubly so because of the double in size now. he's still attentive.....it's just that his attention is not focused on you. he's charming the covers off the sofa on which he lounges everynight, putting his leg up on the coffee-table, not bothering to help with the chores. that understanding man is understanding the game scores after dinner night after night.... and he lavishes you generously with all the housework and bringing up the children.
will you still remember why you love her / him ?
do you love with a reason or with your heart?
when the reasons change, will your love change? when the reasons no longer exist, will your love die? or have you found new reasons to sustain your love? what if there is no new reason?
if you loved with your heart.....will your heart never change? will it remain loyal, through tides and time, when everything else around changes, including yourself and your partner?
what then?
author's note: when a woman writes about men, readers automatically assume she's talking about her husband. fyi, it's just a cynical observation.
Monday, August 06, 2007
things i can't understand #1
why do condoms come in different taste? people like to chew rubber? try chewing gum!! definitely taste better. what if someone forgets that they are chewing some tender parts and take a big chomp?!?! india's coming up with a betel-nut taste condom!! go figure! are you suppose to chew and spit?!
Thursday, August 02, 2007
raging hormones cause poor eyesight
yesterday was not a very good day.
everything that can possibly go wrong to drive me further up the wall...did. getting through the day was tough.....but as you can see, i survived!! i lived to whine another day! :-p
was picking up the little 6yo from computer class at this shopping centre nearby. there was another 5 minutes left, according to their clock. and so i stood against the escalator, waiting and leaning, leaning and waiting, like the hot babe that i am (sorry, no barf bags available here).
a short-sighted (i know that not from the fact that he wore glasses, because he didn't, but from the experience that follows) boy, must have been in his early teens, stepped onto the escalator a couple of steps behind his friend. as he got nearer, he called out 'hello' in the most flirtatious voice you can conjure! he definitely wasn't calling his friend......cos they came together. there wasn't anybody else a mile away. that little noodle-head was actually coming on to me!!
okay, okay. he didn't get a good look at me. my long hair was covering my face. the moment he realised he was trying to pick up an aunty, he walked down the escalator in a hurry! didn't give me a chance to 'hello' back and wink at him, not that i wanted to. didn't give me a chance to shout 'i'm old enough to be your mother lah!!' after him either. i nearly rolled on the floor laughing. little boy, with your raging hormones, look clearly before you speak. brain should compute before the mouth. i think he must have nearly died of embarrasment!
i'm keeping a lookout in the obituary page to see if i have accidentally killed an innocent young child.
everything that can possibly go wrong to drive me further up the wall...did. getting through the day was tough.....but as you can see, i survived!! i lived to whine another day! :-p
was picking up the little 6yo from computer class at this shopping centre nearby. there was another 5 minutes left, according to their clock. and so i stood against the escalator, waiting and leaning, leaning and waiting, like the hot babe that i am (sorry, no barf bags available here).
a short-sighted (i know that not from the fact that he wore glasses, because he didn't, but from the experience that follows) boy, must have been in his early teens, stepped onto the escalator a couple of steps behind his friend. as he got nearer, he called out 'hello' in the most flirtatious voice you can conjure! he definitely wasn't calling his friend......cos they came together. there wasn't anybody else a mile away. that little noodle-head was actually coming on to me!!
okay, okay. he didn't get a good look at me. my long hair was covering my face. the moment he realised he was trying to pick up an aunty, he walked down the escalator in a hurry! didn't give me a chance to 'hello' back and wink at him, not that i wanted to. didn't give me a chance to shout 'i'm old enough to be your mother lah!!' after him either. i nearly rolled on the floor laughing. little boy, with your raging hormones, look clearly before you speak. brain should compute before the mouth. i think he must have nearly died of embarrasment!
i'm keeping a lookout in the obituary page to see if i have accidentally killed an innocent young child.
sis
i miss having a sister.
not that i had one.
when i was growing up, just me and my older brother, i did wish for a little sister. someone for me to boss around, or at the very least, to follow me around like a little devoted puppy (haha). i had an inborn need to guide and teach, and so i unleashed it all on my cousin sister, willing or reluctant partner that she was. it was rather boring, just me and myself, but i had plenty to keep me amused and i rather enjoyed my own company.
in my teens, i made friends fairly easily and had many close friends that replaced the need of having a sister. i didn't miss having another person to argue about ownerships or hearing the nags of mother to share. my brother and i were so different that we mostly kept to ourselves during those period of raging hormones and puberty.
later, in my 20s, the absence of a sister figure still didn't mean much as i was too busy with my life, too sure of my ownself for the need of any validation from others. what with adjusting to life with another person and childbirth, i had more than my hands full most of the time.
only in my 30s am i missing my imaginary sister the most. someone that i can talk to and pour my heart out. someone who would understand without the need for me to justify the reasons for my feelings. someone who will always stand on my side, against everybody else. someone who will understand what i am going through and empathise. someone who will hurt when i am hurting. someone who will stand up for me. someone who will love me because i am me. someone who will tell me the hard truth simply because it is the truth. someone i can tell everything in the world to and will understand. someone that i can rant and rave to without coming under the criticism of the public eye.
when i was growing up, i never could bond with anybody. parents were simply meant to be censoring tools to over-excessive enjoyment and provision of adequate needs. brother was never around even to be a source of annoyance. friends separated by a wall of geographical mobility....friends whom were often more interested in telling me their woes than listening to mine. when i was growing up, my diary replaced the role of a sister.
sometimes it feels like me against the whole world. one solitary figure standing against it all. whom do i rant to? who can i tell what's eating away at me? who can i bitch to? i don't want to be the nice person always. i don't want to be strong. i want to cry, i want to shout, i want to whine....but who understands?
perhaps i should start writing a diary again.
not that i had one.
when i was growing up, just me and my older brother, i did wish for a little sister. someone for me to boss around, or at the very least, to follow me around like a little devoted puppy (haha). i had an inborn need to guide and teach, and so i unleashed it all on my cousin sister, willing or reluctant partner that she was. it was rather boring, just me and myself, but i had plenty to keep me amused and i rather enjoyed my own company.
in my teens, i made friends fairly easily and had many close friends that replaced the need of having a sister. i didn't miss having another person to argue about ownerships or hearing the nags of mother to share. my brother and i were so different that we mostly kept to ourselves during those period of raging hormones and puberty.
later, in my 20s, the absence of a sister figure still didn't mean much as i was too busy with my life, too sure of my ownself for the need of any validation from others. what with adjusting to life with another person and childbirth, i had more than my hands full most of the time.
only in my 30s am i missing my imaginary sister the most. someone that i can talk to and pour my heart out. someone who would understand without the need for me to justify the reasons for my feelings. someone who will always stand on my side, against everybody else. someone who will understand what i am going through and empathise. someone who will hurt when i am hurting. someone who will stand up for me. someone who will love me because i am me. someone who will tell me the hard truth simply because it is the truth. someone i can tell everything in the world to and will understand. someone that i can rant and rave to without coming under the criticism of the public eye.
when i was growing up, i never could bond with anybody. parents were simply meant to be censoring tools to over-excessive enjoyment and provision of adequate needs. brother was never around even to be a source of annoyance. friends separated by a wall of geographical mobility....friends whom were often more interested in telling me their woes than listening to mine. when i was growing up, my diary replaced the role of a sister.
sometimes it feels like me against the whole world. one solitary figure standing against it all. whom do i rant to? who can i tell what's eating away at me? who can i bitch to? i don't want to be the nice person always. i don't want to be strong. i want to cry, i want to shout, i want to whine....but who understands?
perhaps i should start writing a diary again.
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