Stress

I always believed that if i ate healthy and kept a relatively healthy lifestyle, i would be able to avoid hypertension or cardiac disease.

News flash!!!

Now i am convinced that people's expectations will eventually take my life one fine day.. There's only ONE me, and yet, i do not own a fraction of my soul....

SIGH...

The Big Red Question...

My boyfriend and I do everything together. We have breakfast together, we have dinner together, we feed the dogs together, we go grocery shopping together..I wax my legs, he sits and watches tv, he shaves, i stand and watch him. You name it, we do it together.. So you would think that since we know everything about each another, there is almost nothing that we should be shy or be ashamed of.. But ahh, there is....

See last month when we went to the pharmacy to get our toiletries as usual, and i walked straight into the sanitary pad section to pick up a packet. Without warning, my boyfriend fled to the counter, paid for his stuff, and waited for me outside the pharmacy. His reluctance to walk with a girl who has a packet of sanitary pads in her hands were as if i was holding on to a porn video to rent out in the open. While i thought it was hilariously weird, and also cute of him to react that way, it also baffled me how guys can still be disgusted with the mere word "period" and cringe and flinch involuntarily as if it was unbelievably disgusting to even be mentioned.

As long as I have lived, I have not heard of a man talk about menstruation as if it was a normal thing. But ironically, its as normal and normal can get. It is as normal as your morning toilet bowl visit or the urge to piss. They would always avoid the topic at all cost, and if they had to join in the conversation, hyperventilate and shift their eyes when they had to refer to the word. Many men i know call it "PMS" simply because it sounds cooler and much lesser like the real thing. Well news flash! It is different. PMS stands for Pre Menstrual Syndrome and has nothing really do to with the actual Menstruation cycle. I used to have a friend who would not shut up and the only way to stop him from talking is to throw a fresh spare pad on the table and he will shut up as if horror stared him in the face. An ex boyfriend of my cousin used to say " Oh My God!" everytime she had her period. And i remember an incident where " a guy" asked me why i was wearing a skirt if i was menstruating. ( beats me...)

While we don't generally talk about poop at the dinner table, it is a bigger taboo to mention the "P" word anywhere at all at anytime. It's a "girls" topic so men generally feel as if they should not path-take any bit of it.

So what is it really? It is the fact that there's blood involved thats why it comes as a gory topic to men or is it just culture or social ignorance? I really don't know!

I've Fallen in Love

I got all Head over heels, all starry eyed and gooey over.... Toothless!! Sigh.. I'm so in love with him...

Am I the only one who notices that Toothless looks alot like Stitch!?

Always... Coca Cola!

Not nearly as pretty as the ones i saw... Sigh..

As i squeezed through the crowd of people and chatter in Amcorp's flea market, my eyes scanned the room for prized possessions which might have been on a bargain. And then i saw that something which would change my life forever. 4 limited edition bottles of stainless steel Coca Cola Bottles with graphics on them. Collectors items i tell you!! See, i have this crazy obsession for antiques. Give me a HupSeng cream crackers tin from the 70's and i would be obsenely delighted and perhaps perform one of my flamingo dance for you.

Back to the story, as i see the four bottles amongst the other clutter, i picked one up carefully and coo as if i was holding a puppy, "Oh bernard, look at these! OMG". My discovery was shortlived as the next thing i knew, the uncle mending/Owner of the stall put down his plastic spoon and started shouting at me, spitting nasi lemak out of his half rotten teeth mouth everywhere.. His exact words were;

"You jangan sentuh sentuh!!! Ini you tak tau punya. Dua ratus lima puluh linggit ah kalau you buat pecah!! Ini Coca Cola punya barang, lu mana tau punya??!!! Jangan pigang pigang, lu pecah, lu tada duit bayar.. Letak balik letak balik.. Haiyaaa..."

I stood there, still holding the bottle in my hands, examining its delicate markings for a good half a minute before realizing the uncle was shouting... AT ME? Perplexed, i tried to be patience and respectful, so i inquired politely and tried to explain to the uncle that i was a coca cola collector.

So i asked him, how much was it and told him (despite the embarassing shouting that earned me a mob of spectators) that i will be careful to be gentle with it.

And he says...

" you letak!! Letak Balik! U tak boleh beli punya. Dua Latus Lima Puluh satu set lu mana ada duit??!!! " Letak balik!!!"

I stood there like a moron shocked at this old man shouting at me when clearly, i was about to beg bernard to borrow me some money to buy the bottle collections there and then. Bernard just yanked the bottle out of my hands, called the old man a "soh hai" rudely, and pulled me away.

Again, my brains were numbed by the blistering heat and it took me a minute to fully realised what happened. I started cursing and swearing at the grumpy old man for being such a f***er! Gosh, i was fuming like crazy..

After a while, i figured out why he treated me in that manner. I was wearing one of Bernard's big oversize t shirt and a pair of peddle pushers. Bernard was wearing his old MSSD shirt. Cummon.. It was the weekend!! But aha, we were still judged. The uncle gave us one brief look and passed a judgement. The truth is, "Uncle Grumpy" might have earned that 250 bucks yday if it wasn't for his judgemental decree. Another thing that could have affected the way we were treated was (Bernard's theory), that he probably thought we were.. ahem.. "malays". I shall not go into details as to why or how the prejudice came about, but let's just say he lost a very willing customer.

It's annoying how people are often judged by appearances. Not to say that i am entirely non-judgemental when it comes to looks. Everyone is, even if a little. It's our nature to judge and criticize. This however, made me feel discriminated as if i was vermin.

I wonder whose loss is it..."Uncle stick-up-his-arse" for losing rm250... Or me.. for never being able to add those 4 bottles to my collection just because of the way i look...

A Change?

In conjunction with all the changes i'm going through in my life, i thought my blog is in need of a new facelift as well. Perhaps something darker considering the cynic i've morphed into. What do you think? I'm rather attached to the tree in the background of my current skin... Something green? Something Black? Something less chirpier for the revised version of me?

Say something!!!

Bachelor Oh Bachelor

When I came across CLEO, I dumped my high school flick magazine for it in an instant. IT seemed more interesting and for a girl dealing with puberty, CLEO seemed to have all the beauty and life answers for me. From the right make up product to the latest fashion, to the women tell it all sections.. CLEO seemed "dirtier" than Galaxy or Youthquake.

Do i still buy CLEO these days? Yes i actually do. Simply because it is cheaper than most magazines, and also for the sake of the unfaltering loyalty i had for it, which brings back childhood memories. Anyone who reads CLEO always waits for the annual Bachelor addition. The first magazine to feature 50 "ooh la la" men who are "bachelors". I mean, any single girl have had that fantasy of being seen with one of those hunks. However, these days, it is hard to see it in the same light as i did donkey years ago.

Having "grown up", the bachelors edition seemed like a cheap gimmick over time. What i fail to understand is why people are willing to be of this gimmick. I was pretty shocked when i looked up the word bachelor. No i'm not an imbecile, and everyone knows what a bachelor means. But as dictated by the dictionary, a bachelor simply means "an unmarried man", no more, no lesser in definition. I always thought that it would be only politically correct to call yourself an "eligible bachelor" if you were single, available, and thriving.

When i see the bachelor's edition these days, I scour the pages for familiar faces of friends that have made it to the pages of fame. Not quite because i am proud of them, rather more of trying to catch them at the act, of denying it at all cost that they have a significant other half.

Half or more of these bachelors that make it to the bachelor edition each year are attached or in a serious relationship. The other half who aren't, are either losers, or sorry to say " not eligible" material. I am quite certain that the quality of bachelors were better before. Some have even made it to the edition three times in a row for three consecutive years, and have not won!! Oh boy, thats a smack to that self esteem.

The question is, is it really right or remotely fair for them to be part of the bachelor's edition. Firstly, they are misleading other women to believe that they are simply available, even if they are attached. Secondly, they are not doing their other halves any justice by parading themselves in roadshows being screamed out by thousands of girls, and advertising their availability when clearly, they are not. It's almost as if they are keeping their options open. Thirdly, calling themselves an eligible bachelor and advertising their faces in a magazine, is not like being part of Miss World or Miss Universe. It is being part of the male "Playboy Mansion". What is my personal take on this, I think that being part of an eligible bachelor campaign is likened to prostituting themselves in a masked glorious light.

While many choose to not divulge their marital status, and that i admit is a universal right, it is however not right as well to claim to be single if they are not otherwise.

Charm comes from silent confidence. Not the balls to appear on cover pages claiming that you are what you're simply not.

Glee Versus American Idol

The fact that Glee is a high school bubble yum show with real talents who can act AND sing as well as do covers of famous songs which actually sounds awesome in their own arrangement and will have Simon Cowell begging for more, shows that American idols are no where in the same league...

Bernard doesn't really realize that Glee is a musical ( he hates all kinds of musicals including Grease! ) and he's in love with their cover versions...

GO GLEE!!!

:)

Housemate from Hell

I never thought i would have a flair for writing, and then one fine day, out of exasperation and anger, i sat down and wrote a piece about my housemate because i couldn't piece the words together in a verbal sentence without wanting to repeatedly spit on her face. I left it on my computer screen, in hope that she would read it and understand how i truly felt about her. Till this very day, i am not sure if she ever came across that piece. Kathy reckons that was my best piece ever written. If i can find it, i would post it up, but for now, i just wanted you to know Gem, that you were the reason why i ever started writing in the first place. I owe you some form of gratitude for bringing out the best in me while you were at your worst.
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It seemed like yesteryear, when i was miserable and woe-begone living with a woman named after one the most priced stone in the world. It seemed like yesteryear, the ache of being blamed for things that i have never done, or even dreamed of doing seems clear and hearfelt.

I once had a housemate both me and Kathy called the stepmom from hell. She has made a lasting dent in our hearts and soul, and till today, she's still that Wonder woman waiting to hammer us with her sledge-hammer should we cross her path. Some things never change, no matter how you give the person the benefit of doubt, it proves to be alive and kicking, just as the spots of a leopard never fade away.

This is a story of a woman who moved in with us, and made our lives living hell till the very day we bade farewell. She was a woman who was a perfect definition of a tyrant.

"Gem" was a sweet looking young energetic adult who moved in with us a couple a years ago. It didn't take very long for us to realise that underneath the pretense sweetness, was a controlling anal retentive soul. Before we could escape, life became unbearable. I remember the time she accused Kathy of going into her room and moving her mirror by a few inches. I remember the time she accused Kathy of stealing her plate which was of a set of 6, and then later finding it in the fridge where she had used it to store her left overs. She accused and screamed at Kathy of finishing up her "kek Lapis" which her then future mother in law gave her, which later turned up behind the crowded array of food in the fridge, where she had placed it and forgotten that she had. She sent Kathy into fear, of coming out of her own room, in case Gem went into one of her psychotic rampages. I was never quite picked on, and from an outsider's point of view, i thought she was definitely wired, but not all that bad. But there were moments for instance where she would bait me with a trip to Ikea, and lure me into buying stuff that we simply "needed" for the house, and blatantly told me that i owed her half of what she spent knowing that I was a poor struggling student. She would order food in the restaurant, and give me her leftovers, and say that i owed her half of the meal. She once asked me back for a 10 cent change, and accused me of using her perfume without asking her first, though she did mention that i could use it anytime earlier on.. Guess i shouldn't have taken her word seriously huh?

So the time came for us to move out. Kathy moved elsewhere, and I moved in with Gem to a new premise. Having a car, she would never offer to send me out to the bus station ever when i had to walk out in the dark to go for my weekend part time jobs for the extra money. But that was least of my worries, on moving day, she proved to be the biggest tyrant ever. While i was still helping Kathy to move her stuff out of our old house, she "ordered" me to help her unpacked, insisting that if i didn't, she would ledge the door and prevent me from coming into my own home. Eventually, it became a daily thing, She started calling me to ask me what time i was coming home, insisting that i return before a certain time otherwise she would barricade the front door, insisting i came home to help her clean the house, because she wanted to do it "there and then" and no other time. My phone would be flooded with her incessant missed calls and messages when i stayed over at my friend's place because she didn't want to be home alone, and when i was home, i would have to put up with her loud moaning coming from the bedroom in the middle of the night. "Gem" was a gem to everyone who knew her in a passing by, but not to the ones who really lived with her, and breathed the same air.

The day came when i finally had it and declared cold war with her when she accused me of rummaging through her underwear drawer to get to her perfume which she hid there away from me. The very same day, a bunch of contractors came over to do some works on our heavily leaking roof. Never in a million years did she suspect the contractors, but the blame was put on me in an instant. And till this very day, Gem would have not blinked twice in malicious effort to mar my reputation and share that story, making herself the full victim to any extent. All because of a cheap bottle of perfume.

Along the way, i bumped into many people who have been in Gem's life, who have been in the similar situation as i was, who had lived with her, or dated her. Their response was always a raised eyebrow first, to gauge if i was a fan or enemy of hers. And i knew it for sure. All these while i was re-evaluating my character and thinking of the possibility of being the reason which attributed to why she was psychotic.. I was perfectly normal and sane... I wasn't the one with the problem.

When i moved out on her, it was like a breath of fresh air. Finally free from the chains that bounded me. It felt as if i finally escaped from an abusive marriage. NO more fixed schedules on my behalf. No one threats of locking me out of my own house. No more accusations of taking her stuff when she misplaced it. No more step-mother to make me Cinderella. But God has a funny way of making me see things in a different light. I bumped into her recently, and had her pull a fast one on me. Knowing that she would be part of the company in the first place before i even applied, I still went ahead. I thought of how we were young and ignorant, and the relationship problems and raging hormones which could have caused us to be two opposite poles of the planet. And if i had grown up in time, she must have too. But i was proven to be wrong, some people grow older, but they never grow up. Alas, wisdom does not come with age. Wrinkles and cellulite asses do.

What am I feeling now? Well, albeit the bitter feelings and hurt i felt yesterday where i was fantasizing about stuffing her perpetually flared nostrils with Habanero, I took a step back, and decided this is as far as i will go in terms of defaming her. Stooping as low as she did would only make me one of her. I might not know what dirt she has fabricated because as long as me (AND THE OTHERS) have a clear conscience, I am at peace. While i am not entirely convinced that the truth will ALWAYS prevail,and even if it does, what good it will do, i believe that pretense will never stand the test of time. This proved me even more that despite different working settings which might set a company apart from the rest, office politics will never be absent, especially when someone is placed in a company because of internal relations. Maybe my calling is clear, i did ask for HIS divine intervention, and I have a choice to view it as a betrayal, or rather, a saving grace from a bad calculated decision.

Gem, if there is one thing i can ask of you. Please don't ever share a house with another person ever again. You could give Cinderella's stepmother a run for her money.