Every now and then, it sneaks up to you and whisper discouraging words to you.
How you are not good enough, how you'd wished you're someone else, with someone else's life.
How you'd wish you've never been born.
I was with The Scotsman for Christmas. It was something that I didn't expect, him wanting me to be around on Christmas.
We were both sick for the past two weeks, him with Viral fever and me, with Tonsilitis. I kept in close contact with him all throughout the week. I made sure that he is taken care of in my absence. Bought him drinking water, medicine and asked if he needed any food.
The reason why, I did all that for him was not because I am head over heels for him (Which I never allowed myself to be) but it was because of Karma.
I know it would probably be better for me if say I was the one who was all alone in another country with no family or good friends to rely on.
For the whole of the weekend, not once did I say, 'If only ...'
I was genuinely happy... and it was so good for my karma.
(Well... except for the time when The Scotsman said that he didn't get Sarah Jessica Parker because she looks like a horse. @_@)
Now to find someone like The Scotsman, but who would have no problem with long term commitment, and who is my age.
And someone who would understand crude jokes like :
Anyway... Nowadays I spend most of my late afternoons working remotely from my favorite restaurant in Bangsar.
I have made it a habit for me to start my work hours earlier so that I have an excuse to go back earlier, as in... when the skies are still pretty much dark...
I found out that this schedule works for me.
Never mind that I am known as the chick(Who am I kidding, I am about to be 33 next year) woman who orders Capuccino everytime (I swear, this place makes THE BEST CAPUCCINO in town!) and whose timing is like clock work.
I will be in the cafe from 5.30 pm onwards, with my java, my work laptop and all manner of documents on my table.
The only time when I would not be seen at this place, slaving hanging out with my favorite designer effing coffee would be on the weekends, with the occasional quick breakfast on Sundays.
And Uh... I am aware of Christmas by the way... presents are bought and dress ready... hoping to snuggle up with The Scotsman under the mistletoe in some Christmas party.
Actually, I am more excited about the long weekend more than anything. :)
Okay... I better get my ass print off this seat and head off to work.
I am kind of detached from my family somewhat. Detached here meaning that, I am just, not close to them.
I have been brought up on tough love. I was the eldest of three siblings and I had to be in charge, involuntarily.
It is not a tradition in our family to be affectionate. I don't hug or kiss my parents whenever I go out. I do kiss their hands, only because, it's THE thing to do to your parents or anyone else who are older than I am.
I don't sign off with a 'Love You' in my SMSes to my Mum and I never got a 'Love you' from them either.
It's all rather... awkward professional, actually.
I only 'peluk' and 'cium pipi' (hugs and cheek kiss) with my Aunts because they did it. You can see the awkwardness whenever my Mother, Sister and I had to do it.
That would be because, we don't do that. We have never been brought up that way.
So, because of that, I am unable to relate to family issues. Never been sure on how to act to the situation. I know that I give cash and stuff, but I am just, shite at doing all the other stuff.
I have never had that need to make babies in the hope of them taking care of me when I am old.
I am hoping that I would be good enough surviving on my own. Afterall, I am getting to used to being alone right now anyway.
Oh well, Maybe I would change, maybe I would not.
One thing's for sure... IF I am ever going to change... EVER, I would make sure that my kid would not grow up like me.
They were curious over the fact that I have a gym membership, that I enjoy circuit training just as much as I enjoy 'elongating my spine and taking long breaths in a state of zen.'
I also have people asking me :
'Dude... so are you like... a hippie?'
'Are you like trying to copy Ninie Ahmad or something?'
(Just because I cut my hair short and do Yoga...=_=... in what world? I am huge, have thunder thighs and love my meat, so to emulate Ninie Ahmad is not possible.)
I was practising Yoga before it became cool.
I was practising Yoga before I shed off 12 kilos... that was when I was still in JB, making 1600 bucks a month.
and driving the frikkin' kancil.
With Moolah comes greater opportunities to do things in a more proper way.
So why Yoga?
Dude, when you are able to do shoulder stand like it's Tuesday... and the wheel pose like it's Thursday, you feel a kind of ecstatic sense of accomplishment.
And when you sit cross legged donning an Anjali Mudra thinking of nothing but to be in peace with yourself after a sweaty and intense sequence, you feel strangely.... good about yourself... and how about that time when you are able to do a Chaturanga thinking that shit... I can't do this a year ago, and now I can!!!!.
It's all about self achievement... although small and insignificant to other people, it is a major thing to be able to bend your feet on top of your head and twist your torso in bound sage pose.
So.. Why Yoga? Well... It makes me feel powerful about myself.
Can I now ask why cigarettes and giving excuses to not lead a healthier life and opting to rot slowly with nicotine infested lungs and fat asses to other people who asked me why Yoga?
I LIVE IN OTTAWA, CANADA,I AM DIVORCMED…I AM VERY EDUCATED …I HAVE A PHD AND 3 MASTER DEGREES..I USED BE UNIVERSITY PROFESSOR IN SEVERAL UNIVERSITIES…................................I WORK IN TRANSLATION MATTERS AND LEGAL AFFAIRS…I AM A COMMISSIONER OF OATHS ALSO…I LIKE TO READ ..WATCH MOVIES MAKE RESERCHES…IN DIFFERENT SUBJECTS….ETC…LET US MEET SO PLEASE CALL 6xxxxxxxx OR SEND ME YOUR PHONE NUMBER SO WE CAN TALK AND LET US MEET IF YOU R REALLY SERIOUS..IN ESTABLISING TRUE LOVE LONG RELATIONSHIP TOWARDS FUTURE COMMITMENT IF YOU WANT/I AM SERIOUS IN THIS RESPECT.
I am just so happy that I can spell and that most grammar mistakes I did in here is because I am just too tired / sleepy but can't sleep / just can't effing be bothered to read through.
I am also happy that I have no Master's Degree(s) or PHd too... if those things could actually make anyone write this way.
(And yes, this was someone who messaged me on a dating site. LOL!!!!
Moral of the story : Do NOT tell people that you have degrees and make grammatical / spelling booboos.
1.the principle of life, feeling, thought, and action in humans,regarded as a distinct entity separate from the body, andcommonly held to be separable in existence from the body;the spiritual part of humans as distinct from the physicalpart. 2.the spiritual part of humans regarded in its moral aspect, oras believed to survive death and be subject to happiness ormisery in a life to come: arguing the immortality of the soul. 3.the disembodied spirit of a deceased person: He feared thesoul of the deceased would haunt him. 4.the emotional part of human nature; the seat of the feelingsor sentiments. 5. a human being; person.
I have no idea how to edit the settings of this post, so let me just get to it.
I have never quite understood the concept of the word soul.
I mean, does it float... and if it is visible,would it look like a halo around your frikkin head? Does it have anything to do with the classic 'Good Vs Evil' thing that happened in cartoons where a Devil sat on your left shoulder and an angel hovering on your right?
It gets even more confusing when I try to interpret it using everything I know about Islam. I am not saying I know much, but I do know enough to say that I know stuff.
Soul is defined as 'nyawa' in Malay, which in turn translates directly to 'Life'.
I still remember the subtitles to an old black and white P. Ramlee (An old movie genius) classic, 'Nujum Pak Belalang (Literally translated; Pak Belalang, the astrologer?; I welcome any other suggestions to the title in English.). It did refer to soul as 'nyawa'.
Comparing to the quality of English now to how it was back then, I would rather accept the old translation.
So will my soul be doomed to hell for having sex, drinking beer and swearing like a sailor? Won't I be able to redeem it by living my life believing that no one is ever black or white, only good or bad?
Will my soul be polluted just because I believe in what I believe in now?
Strange thoughts comes to mind when I am gazing at the sunrise from the 16th floor at 6.59 am in the morning after a long night of Payroll Core training.
The Scotsman and I never take what we have as a relationship.
From the first time I saw him, I knew that this would never work. He is charming, but somehow, I get that vibe.
When I met Lululemon, I got that same, THIS will never work, but I also had that 'Well, it might...' feeling.
But, I gained myself another friend. Just friends, nothing more than that.
All the other men I met, the spattering of them, ended up as acquaintances.
The guy who was introduced to me, who was dating one of the celebs, I almost didn't want to to go out on a date with him. But I did.
Predictably, that one went down the drain almost as soon as the date started.
It was one of those disaster dates. I would rather suffer through a bad sports injury than going through the painful 2 hours of coffee with him.
I mean, realistically, would someone who dated a 'celebrity' so called want to be involved with a nobody like me? This fat ass?
In what world?
At that time, I was also kind of, dating another guy. (I am single, what do I care.)
It was ok, I guess. And strangely, I don't have any expectations whatsoever. I am like... meh... I was thinking, I will take it as it comes, come whatever fucking may.
At that point, I realized that, I am truly, if not completely, over this. This whole habit of expecting something to come out of a date, it's not there anymore.
And somehow, I feel a bit disappointed, if not sad at myself for this. I mean, I am officially no longer a romantic, I am officially THE most cynical person I know.
I have no imagination and until I see it with my own two eyes and get it from someone, I am going to go for healthy skepticism.
I told The Scotsman about this, and he told me that it only feels right with us because the both of us know what to expect at the end of the line. Both of us know that when the right person comes 'for me' (He emphasized on me finding the right person.), then we will be laying down some ground rules.
I know I will be sad when the time comes. I mean, I know I will be happy if there is ANYONE at all out there who would like to actually... like me, but to end this complicated thing with The Scotsman, there oughta be some bittersweet complexities there somewhere along the line.
I guess I would only know once I meet that other person, isn't it?
The thing about people is that sometimes, they annoy the shit out of me.
I mean, how can I not be annoyed?
It seems as if the fact that I am alone and I am enjoying my life because I do not have some 'man' figure nagging my head off when I wanted to buy something that I want and not need just begs for the question of...
WHY DO YOU EVEN CARE?
Yes, I have The Scotsman, Yes I have another person I am dating right now, and YES, I can no longer roll with Malaysian men (Unless they are gay).
So... what gives? Why can't I just be left the fuck alone?
I tend to just assume (Yes, yes I know what people said about ASS U ME -ing) that everything is going to not work out for me. Oddly, I think the sky's the limit when it comes to my career, but personal life wise, I suck. I have been so dismissive that I will just say that men just see me as a plaything, a whatever. There will never be that moment that a man would actually adore me for being who I am.
2) Selling myself short
Again, this has everything to do with my personal life. I am as gung-ho as Jackie Chan in a kungfu flick when it comes to my career but I am a cracker when it comes to dating and men. I can never say that I am good enough for anyone.
Why keep on doing something if it's not working right? I don't need more people in my blackbook, I need to get someone to make me give my blackbook away. If dating is not going to yield the results that I want, then I might as well, STOP doing it.
4) Eating unhealthy stuff
I grew up thinking McDonald's is one of the free world's greatest creation, that A&W was a Godsend and KFC as the hail Maries of all things deep fried and greasy.
When I hit 28, at 75 Kilos, I decided that I was living in denial. I was fat, I was unhealthy and I was in a phase where I just couldn't take it anymore.
Now, I am a healthy 60 kilos and eat only what I need (I DO EAT!). My body rejects all the junk I consume in an albeit, violent, projectile way (NO I AM NOT Bulimic).
I think having more than 50 dresses is a sign that I should stop. And the fact that I only use one shade of lipstick (Correction--- 1 lipstick) among my umm... more than 5 ( I am in denial here) Benefit's, Bobbi Browns, Macs, Cliniques and Clarins is just another of God's way saying, 'I gave thee 1 pair of lips! Unless you want to color the other 'lips' as well.'
Maybe I will do up another entry on things that I should START.... soon.
How do you differentiate between stupidity and laziness?
And plus, how do you deal with people who complaint about every single FUCKING thing, but at the same time, is not doing anything about it?
I am still trying to not be judgmental, really, I have been trying so MUCH. But sometimes, you just break, relapse, and all of the sudden you get to this level where all you want to do is to judge.
I personally think Life works in funny ways, that it's almost ironic and c r u e l.
It is c r u e l to find out how idiotic couples can reproduce by the dozens but those who want kids and whose kids would totally contribute to mankind, can't.
I mean, what gives? I thought it was supposed to be the survival of the fittest and all the stupids should just be wiped out from humanity? No? D A M N I T!
If this is Life's way of showing us humility and 'kindness', then shouldn't there be no wars also? Or is Life trying to balance it out with the survival of the bodohs (Stupids, literally translated...)
I am not in any way trying to say that I am smart. I suck with numbers. I didn't get algebraic equations until I was 18 and the only physical feat I can do is to bend my index finger to touch my wrist.
And as you can see, I am not eloquent either, I see myself as the average, the in betweeners.
But, I have common sense. I don't get to where I am right now by sleeping with my bosses, which I am sure some of us, men or women, do to just get ahead.
I am not pretty, so I would have to depend on my brains, my non - existent patience and my seriously decreasing sincerity.
Yes, now... I judge... I don't like it... but an in betweener needs to rant... So... humor me.
So... really ... now.... what do we do with those who has NO common sense?
Like how an Asian (I digress on the nationality) restaurant manager called my friend that he is a racist just because he wanted to change the sides for his $60+ steak???
Like how a chef stormed out in anger to a paying customer of his empty restaurant to tell off someone who would only want extra cheese on his pizza?
Like how a friend who told me to fuck off, and then tried to be back in my good books through Yahoo Messenger ???? (Boy I hope she will never reproduce... pity the person who is going to be friends with her kids! I will try to make sure it is NOT mine)
The only reason why I watched the two movies were because of the clothes. Tell me any hot blooded woman who can turn a blind eye to that gorgeous Vivienne Westwood's wedding dress or the gorgeous, gorgeous heels!
Although one has to admit that the concept of the series and the movies are far fetched, but I am attracted to the strong and independent women message that's relayed. Being single and independent for most of my life, of course minus the designer labels, I can relate to some of the concerns brought up in the movie.
Let's all just hope that in reality, we can just be as honest to ourselves as Samantha who ended a relationship with a man who loves her because she is in love with herself more , as forgiving as Miranda who was willing to look pass her husband's infidelity, as strong as Carrie who picked up her life after being jilted at the altar and as supportive as Charlotte who was behind her friends every step of the way, through thick and thin.
See, there's always something to learn, even if it's from a cliched chick flick.
I was interviewing a candidate when the text came in.
Usually, I wouldn't check my phone, but I did this time.
I was informed by one of my friends in JB of the passing of a friend I have known for years.
The text was timed at 21:38. She passed at 21:30.
I first met her when I was working in JB as a Customer service assistant, which I later went up to work in the A&P department. She was the marketing executive in the company.
She was fun as a friend and totally reliable as a colleague. Everytime I went back to visit Kak Neesa, she would always spare time to hang out with me at the reception.
I found out that she was suffering from skin cancer earlier this year. It came as a shock to me. She was a very cautious person, taking all kinds of supplements to stay healthy. She was in and out of chemo for the rest of this year and I have always hoped that she will come out of it.
She was also the one person who entertains my crazy 'Cafe World' requests constantly.
Until she stopped recently. I thought she was busy.
I went to her FB page just now and saw that there was an entry by her, 7 hours before her passing.
The last wall entry was by her cousin, who wrote; "Wish you are happy in heaven, my lovely cousin." both in English and Chinese.
I was overwhelmed by this, odd feeling. Sad, morbid.
I wondered how would people remember me when it is my time to go for good.
As usual, I tend to browse my FB friends' status posts.
And today it hits me!
I think there are certain specifications that a white man looks for when looking for an Asian bride.
One of them must have been--- inability to write/speak in English.
Maybe it must have just been fucking endearing... or.. errr.. 'cute' to share your life with someone who can't really speak your language.
I could be wrong and I am no one to actually say why white men marry the women they are with right now.
Guess right now, I am just mad at finding out that one of my expat friends found out that his incompetent and pretentious Asian wife cheated on him with another white guy. The fake blonde was caught red handed by the soon to be ex-husband in a hotel room with the guy.
To add on to the humiliation, they were caught in a sleazy 3 star hotel downtown.
I mean, what the hell... what the fucking hell!
When I first met her, I was wondering what attracted the exceptionally kind man to a woman who decided to dye her black hair to platinum blonde and speaks like a moron on wheels.
But, I gave it the benefit of the doubt, like always. I also know some exceptionally bright women who married expats. Sometimes, you just can't choose who you fall in love with, even if it is with a fake lashes wearing hooch/ a 50 year old white man.
When life throws you lemons, all you can do is to make lemonade. We will just have to hang on to our pants hoping that the lemons are good, not rotten ones.
I am not trying to stereotype women here. For all you know, I am stereotyped for dating white men (well, not much of a choice, considering the only men who approached me had been white. I am too fugly for the locals to notice). It's just that I have difficulties with anyone who cheats.
I caught one of my ex in bed with someone else. I know how it feels.
It's that betrayal by someone you are ready to give your heart and soul to, that anger you chose to vent on your ex's car/Armani suits/Ferragamo shoes/ Swarovski vase.
That realization that you were cheated. The discovery that you are not good enough compared to the slutty bitch he was in bed with.
Get the drift about the anger now?
So no, it's not that I am trying to stereotype women who are married to expats. Guess right now, I am trying to write down my thoughts on cheating, on betrayal and on moving on.
Joshua... Move the fuck on. Never look back to that platinum haired whore. Move on.
Among others, Steve Jobs passed away. I am never quite the Apple user and the only Apple product I have is an 8GB I-Pod Nano which I won during last year's company annual dinner.
But without a doubt, he made Apple the household name that it is today. Now everyone own an I-Pad and it is so user friendly that everyone from Grandparents to 3 year olds can figure out how to operate it.
A true visionary. RIP.
2) The world doesn't revolve around anyone...
Though individually, it does. Everyone thinks that the world is in existence only for them, that every little mishaps or undoing is because the world doesn't agree to them.
Seriously, out of 6.97 billion people on earth, and possibly another 6 billion in another planet / universe, you think that your plight is the only one that matters?
Plus, it is not actually fate that determines what you are going to be, but really, it is yourself. don't like something? Do something about it.
For an example :
I decided to go out and 'put myself out there', instead of whining about my being single. I am still single but at least... I am trying.
And if I am still single, I know that I have tried and I truly am meant only for myself.
At least, I have my job to fall back to.
3) Paid Time Off
Or so I thought.
I was supposed to be off on Wednesday. And then I had to be in because I have to take care of something. I wanted to so called be in for half day, but turned out I was in the office until 6.30 am.
And then I changed my leave to Thursday and Friday. But again, I came in on Thursday, went back at 4 am. and came in from 4 pm - 7 pm on Friday.
The good thing about being in my position is that I can apply for leave at the last minute and it can be approved. The bad thing about that would be, I can also come back to work anytime I want to.
I am still waiting for that day I would say to myself 'Screw this', put in my resignation and take off. Huh... I wish but I know I sooo can't do that.
Happy Sunday everyone, we have less than 24 hours now to do weekend stuff.
I have seen a lot of stuff I should not be seeing in the course of whole lifetime.
- Porn : It makes me feel dirty and disgusting and oh so unbecoming of a 'lady' (Sic). BUT... I love that the world seems to be revolving around sex like... ALL the time. Pizza boy comes to deliver that pepperoni extra mushroom extra cheese pizza -- fuck, Plumber fixing the pipes in the kitchen -- fuck, Policewomen detain criminals-- oh hell why not ... fuck. I mean... the world seems so peaceful because pizzas and plumbing jobs can be paid with a fuck and the policewomen are able to 'turn' a criminal to a good guy after a good threesome. And... when does a Pizza Boy ever looks so fuckalicious in real life? Those bums, shoulders???? Maybe the tacky tongue ring and ink on the pubic area should just go.
- Someone else's pubic hair : I was 17. I was in a boarding school. I was lying down on my back on my friends' double decker bed, and lo and behold... I saw it. Curly untrimmed pube hair gawking at me in all directions. The girl was wearing a 'sarong' and was sitting on the bed, with her legs apart. If there is one useful thing my Grandma told me is that: "If you are not able to sit properly wearing a sarong, then don't wear them.". It traumatized me to this day.
- That 'brown mark' on someone's panties : Again, I was 17, and was in a boarding school. We had a communal shower and toilet, and someone just decided to forget their panties that were hung on the back of the shower door. The moment I saw it, I was zombified, for the whole week. I became an 'undie-phobe'. For someone who was into skateboarding and was in a bootcamp for a week... that was just soooo out of character.
There are many more things that I have seen... mostly... Gross ones. Also disturbing ones, like a battered wife/girlfriend, hypocritical religious shit heads (Let's just NOT go there.), and arrogant egotistical husbands/boyfriends.
I went to Pangkor Island and spent the three days with my 'neighbor' from the chalet beside mine.
2 guys to be exact. Tourists. We had fun, hiked, swam (Waddling for me) and had cheap box wine.
Yes it was extremely fun, and no, I didn't keep in touch with any one of them, and NO nothing happened.
Like how an acquaintance put it, 'no mojo.'
I was fresh out of a relationship, was young, was an emotional douche bag and was still, at that time, a believer of 'soulmates'.
After that, I was consumed with other shit heads and douche bags such as myself. What can I say douches attract douches.
Joyce kept on bugging me with beach vacation packages. She said I need a vacation, I need to leave my crackberry with my boss and just fucking get lost already.
I would say... pry it from my dead cold fingers...
I don't know if I really need one. I mean, the only reason why I don't know what gastric feels like was because I would usually just dismiss whatever shit that I had, unless it interferes with my bodily functions.
But... it's going to be a brand new year in 3 more months... who knows? I might be on my way to that beach in Bali, doing my salutations on the beach (Even the thought of that sounds nice), toes crunching the sand.
You won't stop until you find one that fits like a glove.
And if you decided not to buy it at that point of time because you want to see your options, you go back and think of that one perfect dress you tried on, and you found yourself back at the same store, heading to that same rack to pick up the dress that fits you.
When this happens, you know you have found the perfect date that you may want to stick with for a very long time.
It does sound pretty shallow to compare men with dresses, but why do we take it so seriously anyway? Men probably compare dating to scaling a wall/bordering.
Or some other macho equivalents.
People say that I should have no problems in getting a date. But guess what? I do. Unless I take my pick online, it's pretty much useless for me to hang around and waiting for some inexplicably 'romantic' encounter with a man in the flesh.
I guess that's only reserved for the very gorgeous and pretty.
Oh the joy of not having to work, of spending your husband's money without a care in the world.
Even if you are unhappy, you can always seek comfort in the material buys you can get from your husband's cash.
The best part is of course, the not working bit.
If you have been in ops long enough, you'll realize that hanging up your brain for it to 'dry' somewhere else so that you don't have to think about team's productivity, attrition or attendance is bliss.
I know I mentioned that I am fiercely defensive as far as my independence is concerned, but hey, dependency has its' quirks... no?
It's just that, work, competitiveness and this constant need to prove yourself is just... sickening sometimes.
Why can't we just ... get along dammit?
PS : Sometimes I do get a tinge jealous when I read about people who have rich husbands. I hate the fact that I have to work for what they have. I think I am too good a person to deserve this whole independent survivor type chick destiny. ----> I will change my mind when I start working... can you believe me? I suck!
Miguel, my friend recently came over to KL from the States for a brief visit before he goes off to Jakarta for work.
He was my Strategic Business Unit Manager, who I had come to see as a friend and confidante, even after he resigned from the company.
It was nice meeting him again, after 3 years. We kept in touch via email and phone calls for the last few years and to actually seem him in the flesh was great.
Because we are no longer work colleagues, we no longer have obligations to be 'professional about our personal lives'.
He is in a relationship now with his current girlfriend and something that he said made me think :
"I honestly can see myself with her, for a long time. Perhaps, if it's possible at all, forever. Once it goes past the physical, you know you are ready for it. The other women I date before this was you know... like ... whatever."
I can't help to think that, I have been a lot of men's 'Whatever'.
And to make matters worst, I can't seem to believe that I will come to that point of wanting to be with someone, for a long time.
You know it's either you have been single for far too long or you are just too much of an expert in predicting the next course of events.
At 32, I am not in a rush to be in anything... but it doesn't mean that I don't ever want it to happen. Guess when you are over that thirties threshold, you just refuse to settle and prefer to be with someone who would balance you with their differences.
It's depressing to think about it, yes. But thank God that my exercise regime helps me to cope with it.
I don't know when's the next time I would have the time to write an entry, but in case I won't :
Selamat Hari Raya Aidilfitri to all those who celebrates it.
PS : Not in the mood to celebrate it this year, but it's only proper that I still wish the best for everything.
I am brought to life every weekends, I live life the way it is supposed to be lived on Saturdays and Sundays.
No C-SAT reports, no scheduling, no dumbass staff, no strategic quality planning, nothing that requires me to pull my hair and shout in my car.
All I do on weekends is to have fun.
If we are to narrow this down with numbers, it will look like this :
There are 105 weekends (Saturdays +Sundays) in a year. That equals to 2520 hours.
Assuming we spend 8 hours for sleep, that means we take out 840 hours and is left with only 1680 hours to do everything else.
1680 hours to live, technically. To live without mentioning work, or backstabbing work colleagues.
To live as life intend us to.
So, cherish your weekends, do something worthwhile. Do it while you can.
Sketch Courtesy of Godop
Last weekend, I spent time with the couple I am going to become a maid of honor for in September and also Krishna who is going to become their Best man. Not to mention spending time with The Scotsman.
On Sunday, I went with two of my good guy friends to Jalan TAR / Jalan Masjid India.
It was my first time after years. I used to love going there, taking in the hustle and bustle of your average Malaysian people. It's Bangsar/Damansara 10 times removed, and I loved it to bits!
In front of Sogo, where we stopped for 'Keropok Lekor' (Deep fried fish crackers) and LokLok (Street Steamboat). All the things that white people fear of are right here (Exposed raw food and handmade cordials)
The weekends were closed with our weekly rice session at Nirwana Maju in Bangsar. This time it was different because we did this for hours :
That bloody game was stressfull. And absolutely virtually painful.
I hope that your weekend was just as full as mine.
When I was in kindergarten at 4 YO, I told one of my aunts that I was in love with a boy.
2 years later (I was in kindergarten for 3 years), I punched that same boy and decided that I am no longer in love with him. He fought with me over colored play-doh.
I got to know about sex when I rummaged my parent's closet one day and came across a video tape.
It was unlabeled and being the 9 YO that I was, decided that, heck, I am alone, it might be something really interesting.
It was interesting. It was porn. It was my first girl on girl and I vaguely remembered there was a lot of 'hair' involved.
At the age of 15, I met Tengku Anas. He was my first boyfriend. I then enrolled to boarding school and so did he.
The most that we did was a peck on the cheeks, which hardly counted as anything.
No, I am not going to divulge on whether I have had sex or not. It is 'sensitive', for someone of my 'background' to talk about something like that.
Now let's talk about love.
You are in love when you just... feel it. When you can't stop thinking about the person, when you get butterflies in your stomach just thinking about him / her.
That is all well and fine. BUT, they never mentioned anything about sex.
Do people in love need sex? Want it even? Why is sex often misconstrued as the act of 'making love' when it is just two people enjoying close intimate body contact?
What does love has to do with fucking, I am being crude here.
Suffice to say that I have never been in love, or maybe I have, but I could not remember if it had anything to do with sex at all. Did I love the guy or was I just excited over the fact that we can do all kinds of naughty stuff with each other now that we are an 'item'?
I personally loath the term 'making love'. To me, personally, now that I am thinking about it, love has nothing to do with fucking sex (redundant but nevertheless).
Cuddling after sex, well everyone loves to hug something soft after sex, no? It's just too much of work to dress up and drive after sex, so you just sort of hang back for a while. Foreplay, heck... cunnilingus is a form of foreplay, I don't think that that has anything to do with love. Cunnilingus is alllll about pleasure.
I guess to a romantic, what I am writing about right now is a major debauchery, a totally abysmal look at love. Love is suppose to be something fluffy, something soft, something pink or white, with ribbons, heartshaped cupcakes and everything rose scented.
When it should be pictured as an army obstacle course. Barbed wires, mud puddles, 8 ft walls, Heavy boots, leeches and dirt.
LOTS OF DIRT.
And no, a pair of wet socks do not smell nice.
And guess what, after you are done with the obstacle, if you failed to make the time, you have to do it ALL OVER AGAIN THE NEXT FUCKING DAY.
I see Malaysian politics as entertainment, amusement, CIRCUS. (Sarkas, orang melayu kata)
But I am not amused when the circus is going to ruin my weekend.
Wait... I don't even like the circus.
We don't know how things are going to be like this morning. The good thing about me, is that I live 5 minutes drive away from the office. I am not one who will be held up on LDP, NKVE or Penchala Link.
My colleague was stuck in a massive traffic jam on LDP from 9 pm - 12 am.
After that, she told me that her brother who was supposed to go and pick one of her sisters up from KL, were stopped, asked to produce a letter saying that that was his purpose. The police officer even said :
"You suruh je la adik awak jumpa you kat luar KL."
So the officer technically was asking the sister to 'walk' out of KL. At night. In that kind of situation.
Yes, it is... to be put simply... FUCKED UP.
So, I can't have my weekend breakfast session with my friends, because of Bersih, I can't go and have my weekly chocolate chip muffin and Moroccan mint latte at Bangsar, because of Bersih, I can't spend time with The Scotsman because of Fucking Bersih.
Or to be more accurate, because of the roadblocks set up by the police as instructed by the Government.
Believe it or not, I still do not know what I have passion for until now.
Having blogger/twitter correspondence such as Ninie Ahmad the mini human pretzel and following awesome people like AnnaRina and Zuzie@Bodyrock on FB made me think about what do I have passion for.
And if I have passion for anything, at all.
When I was a kid, I used to bug my parents for sketchbooks and a set of pencils. I loved to sketch. Before Moleskins come to play, I used those standard school sketch books to draw on. Everything from people, cats, cars, and even my own hands.
The last time I sketched was when I was hanging out with The Scotsman for our Cappuccino gig. I sketched a guy who was sitting in front of me on the Starbucks serviette. And I scribbled The Scotsman's name in full blown Arabic calligraphy---- Yes I know how to read and write in 'Jawi' (Spellings using Arabic alphabets but in Malay / English).
Then there were books. While everyone else seemed to settle for magazines and Ladybird fairy tale books (This was when I was 9-10), I was already picking up Lord of the Rings and even, the original Hans Christian Andersen short stories. I read back to back pages of the Oxford Encyclopedia.
I loved it and I still do. Books are one of those things I can't do without.
Until recently, I took up physical training and Yoga to help with my being and my strength. No I still can't do more than 25 push ups and I still have difficulties pretzeling myself.
However, at 32, I am in my best form. I just wished I'd discovered these earlier on in my twenties. Instead I chose to waste away my youth doing and chasing things that don't matter.
But... I am trying to not have any regrets. It builds my character, those things. I have come to a realization that things happened for a reason.
I also love writing. I was in communications for a reason, although I did not have any idea why I was inclined to take on a degree course that I have zero interest in whatsoever.
I am still writing, although not professionally, and not quite as passionate like I used to be, I am still able to come up with readable entries in this blog that nobody really read. ;)
I guess, my passion at the moment is living my life, doing all the things that I loved and still love. I may not be the loving daughter, an effective manager (Yet.), an awesome best friend, an inspirational writer or someone who anyone wants/can look up to.
But I am here, still, taking in all that life can give me, and just hoping that I have the strength to handle everything else that life is going to throw at me.
Half of the company's population turned up as civilians.
The food was ... meh, the emcee was Ok. Ally Iskandar got his bearing maybe 1 hour into the show. We had some laughs.
But still I can't help but to feel that the night was wasted somehow spending time on mediocre 8 course Hotel Chinese food and the fact that I didn't win anything (Aside from the table lucky draw that is. At least we got movie passes).
However, we had fun fooling around in dresses and full make up.
I tweeted that gone are the days where annual dinners would be spent drinking our faces silly and making sure our colleagues got home safely. The company I am attached with has a strict no alcohol policy, which posed no issues to me whatsoever. I am allergic to most hard liquors anyway. It is God's way of saying that it is enough for me, when I turned 28 YO.
A sober crowd is a pleasant change, although it took away the fun.
And my bosses, were nowhere to be seen. They couldn't make it. So I was there mainly for my staff who wanted to come to the dinner.
Will I be there in the ballroom next year? Our door gifts were cheap plastic key chains and the food was not to my taste . I don't like formal Chinese dinners. By the time they got to the end, I would have lost interest in the food.
The braised baby octopus was nice though.
I guess, I will just have to wait whether I DO want to come back next year. :P
J: Jew coffee, we go Starbucks, Italian, we go Illy.
Me : Bucks
J : Cannot walk through...
Me : All the sudden, the Exodus cam up and and I am thinking about he whole sea parting thing. Maybe if I just command all these people to move then we can walk through
J : LOL
*Ok... I am sorry... I hope that this is not offensive. I have nothing against Starbucks and I don't think that they support the Israelis. Although, the consumption does sort of mean I am pro capitalist. Then again I am a workaholic. Have a good Thursday everyone! Anyone want to hang out with me at KLCC later? ;)
Especially, when I know, without asking, that it had something to do with The Scotsman.
I would usually shrug, looked down at my brand new shoes (One of the many I have decided to splurge on) and said...
"Well... nothing. We enjoy each other's company."
The truth is, I have decided to de-tach myself from The Scotsman. He is still a dear friend, and whenever we can, we will hang out together. We still text stupid blonde, Scottish and Nationalist jokes once in a while.
But there is just something screaming at the back of my brain telling me that I need to slow down. Take a step back, go to higher ground and take the view in from there.
I have to learn how to let go of all sarcasm on being in love, relationships and marriage in order for me to think about things, objectively.
Objectively, I am not supposed to be feeling any kind of contempt towards the subject of relationships and marriage, men and babies, housewives and jetsetters, smart vs dumb people.
Objectively, I am supposed to see everyone as having their own agenda in life. It varies from having a certain level of intellect to not having any.
At 32, I learnt that shit happens, and it hits the fan in a big way. But I also believe that things happen for a reason, and when that happen, we will be thinking to ourselves, why the fuck didn't I think of that before.
Afterall, I am no Wonderwoman.
Speaking of Wonderwoman, I grew up wanting to be a flying bad ass in star studded blue lycra-ish underwear and a gold bustier.
I remembered faintly of me wearing my mother's oversized 'kain batik' jumping from the sofa /bed/cabinet/my Grandpa's dog trying to act like Wonderwoman.
I heard about Hollywood attempt at mortalizing the bra busting hooligan ass kicking woman on the silver screen.
What I didn't know was that Megan Fox, the chick who got dumped from Transformers is the one who is going to be filling in Wonderwoman's red boots.
For what it's worth, she does look like Wonderwoman, the skinnier version.
But then again, Wonderwoman never actually looked chubby.
Look at those jugs... How can you not want to terrorize your cat and the house dog in that?
Do I want to have kids? Umm... the answer at the moment would be... no.
Yes, I like babies less than 2 Years Old kids, but to have them calls for big responsibilities.
It's not so much the financial bit of it, it's the fact that I am incomplete as a woman still. My baby at the moment is my career and to have another with actual poop and pee, that's another story altogether.
What I do want, however, is a relationship that goes beyond all those expectations. A relationship that will sustain even if we will not have a chance to be a 'normal couple'.
What is normal anyway? I don't think struggling financially to bring up a kid is 'normal'.
But yes, I want it, but I don't need it. I feel lonely at times, but I won't settle. I can't settle. I tried, failed miserably.
So, I am now not really at peace. Talked to Jade recently and she thought that my 'Sarcyliciousness' is ... not there anymore.
I am just feeling tired. People disappoint me lately. I think I am doing too much for people who takes me for granted.
It's people giving too many excuses I can't accept, people who complaint but never do something about it, people who I try to help but is not helping themselves.
I am also tired of men. Seriously, you guys need a third head on top of the two heads you already have.
I am also tired of being tired of these things. The only thing that helped me a bit was my work out.
And the fact that I still have left some of that sanity at the back of my head. (And cash to buy pretty things), does help.
I need a break.
The English translation for the above word would be :
And I am not referring to the 'lazy Sunday' concept.
Some people just have this laid back take to improvement. They are lazy to make the effort on making themselves better.
And instead of acknowledging that they need help, they bitched about the people who wants to help them.
On top of that, they would usually give excuses that would, quite pathetically, make them sound as if, they are not at fault at all.
And despite getting multiple warnings and 'talks' with their superiors on 'performance', they decided, hell... I am not going to do a flying fuck about it. Fuck them!
These people would usually tell these things to other people when they bad talk about their work :
1) Hello. I don't need a fucked up bitch to tell me what to do. -- Most 'fucked up bitch' who tells you what to do, have their own reason on telling you what to do. It's when the 'fucked up bitch' stops telling you what to do that tells you, you are in deep shit.
2) Without this job, I can still live. Sedangkan ulat bawah batu pun boleh hidup, ini kan aku! (Even worms under a rock is able to survive, why not me?) --- my usual slap back for this would be --- Kau ulat ke? Pergi makan tanah sekarang! (Are you a worm? Go eat dirt now!)
3) This is just a stepping stone for me. I have yet to find out what's my true potential! --- Your true potential now is to be a person who will spend their whole life trying to find out what's their potential which might not be any at all!
In the end, there is only 1 thing that can sum up the excuses they try to give to people.
It's simply because you are ----- LAZY aka MALAS.
When people who are trying to help you just one day decided that, I can't do this, that's when you know you are in real trouble.
I have come across people like these a lot lately. And I have only been a manager for less than 2 years now.
And being a manager is nothing to be bragged about. A manager has to put in extra effort, and I have always believed that when you are a manager, you don't actually have people to work for you. In reality, the manager themselves are the ones who are busting their ass to work for their staff.
Of course, if you are a manager who thinks you are doing things just by shouting at your staff, then you wouldn't be able to relate to this particular definition of a manager.
Susah. Nak tolong tak boleh, taknak tolong pun tak boleh.
I get extremely frustrated when talking about politics.
And I am in a position where I don't have a single concern for the people in power right now, or for the opposition.
Because all of them are fighting for their own interests. The opposition was saying that they are pro - equality when the fact remains that they are just 'thinking the best for their own people'.
We live in layers of political hypocricy. And worst, everything is mixed up with the matter of race and religion.
Which is all bullshit.
I have been very outspoken about my 'political' frustration. So much so that my Mother thinks I should shut up and just keep my opinions to myself.
Well, Mum, that's not gonna happen.
I love Malaysia. In all it's humidity and people who thinks Durian is the king of fruits, I love this country.
Malaysians mostly are very well rounded people. At least we know where KFC comes from although I have to admit, I didn't know about Erithrea being a country until I was 25.
But... all and all, we are very well rounded. We know each other's culture and we are fine with it. I love the fact that parents' neighbours, who are not Muslims, gave me a green packet on Raya. I love the fact that my married Non - Chinese friends gave us single ones red packets.
I love the fact that we celebrate every single festivities together.
What I don't like (hate) is that the government thinks that the people are a bunch of retards whose lives need to be directed to a certain moral standard, devised by them!
They are giving attention and priority on things that shouldn't matter and undermining those issues that needs to be up there in the first place.
And Malaysians are either 1) Racists or 2) Too tired to care and is just waiting to get the hell out of this country.
To affect change is similar to getting your bum flogged by your Malay ancestry saying that I am traitor and to be accused of all the others of being a fool.
And then people ask me why I don't have any political stand?
I have resolved to NOT talk about my personal life ie--love life on my blog.
I know I know, I have made that mistake sooo many bloody times... but I think I have been quite succesful these past few days no?
I shrugged it off even when my close friends ask me about it. I don't see the point to be 'transparent' about that part of my life.
If I get engaged, if I get married then I would certainly share it here so that you guys can go and buy Da Ma Cai (a kind of lottery), lotto or go to a casino in Genting to win big.
Don't worry, I am very nice that way.. remember hor... 20% my share ah?!
An acquaintance actually told me that I am the most 'positive and influential' individual he had ever known.
This is mainly because of my dedication and the hamstring splitting stretching discipline I have on my fitness regime.
It is sooo painful that it's oh so gewd.... (The workout discipline that is... not the fact that I 'am' positive and ehem..influential)
I told him that he doesn't know me well enough to say that.
I am the most pessimistic person 'I' know. Optimism had never been my First, Last or Middle name.
I am always expecting the worst, I guess that's why I am so good in managing operations, because I am the damage control person. Every implementation comes with step by step on 'how to not panic and salvage the fucked up situation.... now that it is already fucked up' plan.
I never won anything except for the I-Pod Nano I got in the lucky draw last year.
I remembered when I was 10, when my brother was an avid Ribena drinker, I took part in the contest, wanting to win myself a Personal Computer (The reeeaaallly big one). The contest needs you to have proof of purchase so I was lucky in a way that my brother seemed to be a ribena-holic.
10 thousand forms (I am .. exaggerating) and many many sessions of lugging the heavy glass bottle of ribenas later, I didn't win.... ANYTHING.
Not even the consolation prize.
All I got was about 10 plastic Ribena Berry mugs, even that was because the 'uncle' at the grocery shop maybe took pity on me and decided to give me, the ribena buyer, something to be excited for.
So.. yes... I never won anything.
But if I win the I-Pad at the coming company appreciation dinner, I would definitely post it here so that the rest of you can go and 'beli nombor ekor.' (Malaysian term for buying lottery ticket somehow)
I don't think I am ever good for anyone. It could be a million things that contributed to this. I am not rich enough, I am not smart enough, I am not pretty enough, I am not perky enough... etc ... etc....
See how I am not all Miss Sunshiney day here?
But somehow, now, my workout enables me to have a better outlook on life, now that I kind of have a purpose in life (To be fitter), I am ... alright... not Ms. Positivity of course, maybe... in the middle...
I swear, sometimes that's how my actual handwriting looks like...
A picture I asked to be taken just because I want to know if those burpees, push ups and weight training did me justice or not, if those sweat and tears I secreted is well worth the muscle pain of twisted wrists and veins and what have you nots...
Not to forget all the time I strived on making my own meals so that I would be able to keep with the diet... (Still not able to forego my post workout soy latte, Cappuccino and that... sinful sinful chocolate chip muffin with Moroccan mint Tea treat every weekend! If not, I think I will be awesome-er. -_-)
So the next time some skinny person come up to me and said that I am fat, I will drag her to the gym and bury her under exercise mats, dumb bells and the treadmill.