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ACHTUNG!!!

THIS IS A CHICK ZONE. MALES ARE WELCOME TO READ, BEARING IN MIND THAT “YOU ARE WHAT YOU READ”. PAIRED WITH THE DARWIN’S THEORY OF EVOLUTION, THERE IS , HOWEVER A REMOTE BUT NEED MENTIONING,POSSIBILITY THAT YOU MAY TURN INTO A , WHAT IS THE TERM GUYS LIKE TO USE? AH YES, “PUSSY”, SHOULD YOU HAVE AND OVERDOSE OF THIS BLOG. THE AUTHOR WILL NOT HOLD ANY RESPONSIBILITY SHOULD ANY MALE START LOOSING HAIR ON THEIR CHESTS OR START GROWING BREASTS. HOWEVER, THE BIGGER PROBABILITY RESULTING FROM READING AUNTIE DOT’S RUBBISH, WOULD BE THAT MALES WILL HAVE A BETTER UNDERSTANDING OF FEMALES…(WELL, AT LEAST THE ONES ENTERING THE MENOPAUSING AGES) OR NOT..WHO'S TO KNOW WITH WOMEN ANYWAY….IT WOULD BE A REMARKABLE ACHIEVEMENT, UNDERSTANDING WOMEN THAT IS, SINCE WE WOMEN HAVE A TOUGH TIME UNDERSTANDING OURSELVES TOO…
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VIDEO OF THE MONTH

Saturday, December 26, 2009

Cleaning Up My Closet

Sprint cleaning can be emotionally tiresome at times. More so when your spouse had just had passed on, leaving you with half a closet full of memories. It took me some time to clear my closet after the death of my husband. Actually, some time was about nearly 2 years. But I still have one or two of his shirts I hang in the closet, until about, last week.

My closet was totally cluttered and I realized, after nearly a decade past his death, I do not need material stuff to remind me he’s still well and alive in my memory. I’ve also realized, that I no longer need to block out the memory of him as I have tried hard to do but failed miserably for the past one decade, to protect myself from breaking down into little pieces. I dealt with my memories of him. I've learned to live with them.

I recall going through his stuff for the first time. In fact I did not manage to even look at it until after 6 months, without crying. It’s like every piece of stuff carries a memory of it’s own and while I was running my fingers caressing his shirts, his tie, flashes of incidents blared through my mind and again, I burst into sudden tears.

It took me 3 years until I could go through the photo albums without feeling a stab piercing through my heart, something eventually I’ve learned to live with.

Our marriage was not perfect, like any other marriages, we were thriving towards adaptation of two minds with separate and unique habits, finding their way around to be together under one roof, one bedroom, one bed. It’s the taming of two lives in search of harmony.

At one point, while going through his personal belongings, I stumbled upon an after morning pills, half a strip gone, used. It would have been bliss had I not known what those pills are and I’d mistaken them for mine. It’s just that, in my entire life, I have never used any contraceptive pills ever. He was adamant on not letting me consume hormonal pills and had volunteered to use the condoms instead. I was so touched by this gesture. It’s the small things that tell you he loves you a lot, and it screamed louder than the words “I love you”. But that pill just jerked me into the darkest corner of my mind. Basically, my heart was smashed to pieces.

The sound of two lovers fighting rang through my ears as I recall the nasty fights over him coming back late and that one past midnight phone call I caught him over my extension line with some bitch that changed the tempo of our marriage, the drunk driving that eventually cost him his life, the banging of the door, the screaming at each other, the making up after that just ricocheted through my mind as I ran my fingers through his possessions. It was then I had to remind myself, that he was just human and human makes mistakes. I may have forgiven him, but forgetting is much tougher.

I think, it is easier to go through the bad memories with anger, rather than going through fond ones. Anger helps me deal with the sadness, but good memories just make me miss him even more. Either way, I ended up crying.

There were days in the early part of his death when I use to lie in bed clinging on to the last shirt he wore so that I could still breath in the smell of him that lingered on that piece of material. It was a T Shirt worn just a day before the car accident. I remembered it as though it had just happened. I needed him to plant the banana tree and he was trying to get out of it by insisting that he’d only plant trees that will give out fruits, and not just for garden accessory purposes. With a poker face I insisted that it was a banana tree that gives out lots of fruits, and that lie actually worked, not in the sense that he bought it, but in the sense that I got my job done.

Next thing I know, he was digging a hole for me to plant the tree, of which I smugly did. He did, before performing the task said to me with a raised eyebrow and a suspicious eyes, “I know you’re lying to me sayang, but I’m going to dig this hole anyway”. I just gave him a cheeky smile like I always did when I manage to get away with things with him, like when I get caught wearing his underwear and I’d just shrug my shoulders, look him in the eye and say, almost purring, “yeah, so?”

Oh yes, if anything can kill, it’s cleaning up your closet when it is full of skull and daisies. Throughout the years, if there’s anything I’ve learned from cleaning up mine, is that there is no other way to carry on with life, until I’ve make peace with the bad memories, and cherish the good ones. After all, that was what “through thick and thin really meant”.

And after a while, you will no longer need to have his stuff enveloping you, as a reminder of the love you had for one another, and the life you build together, no matter how short it was. Cherish the moment, for the moment you have now, may not last forever. And if the beautiful moments do not last, there’s always the memories to carry within your hearts and your mind. You do not need to keep them in your closet.
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Friday, December 18, 2009

Mother warned me there will always be one of those days...

They say "Loneliness kills". Then how come I'm still alive? Funny, how life can sometimes turn out to be. What you plan did not turn out the way you'd expected it to and things you don't expect, sneaks insidiously and jump right onto your face to surprise you when you least expect it to. (well, it's not redundant because I'm including the surprise you're sometimes forced to fake...like your bloody birthday. Past 40 years old, you'd wish that your birthday wish will finally come true..that everyone including yourself will forget it. Unfortunately, some cheerful annoyingly optimistic character will without fail remind you what you prefer to forget and next thing you know, you HAVE to act surprise when people surprise you with a birthday surprise...ring a bell? So basically, although grammatically incorrect, "surprise you when you least expect it to" is NOT redundant when one is to apply the actual meaning).

Yupp. Life is funny that way. Maybe the Guy up there is having fun with all of us. After all, if you ask me, He's doing one heck of a super great job that He deserves to have fun once in a while.

Loneliness is something most people experience, yet are reluctant to talk about. It is as though when we talk about loneliness, we are rendering ourselves vulnerable. In a way it is true. I've had experience with people who prey on others' loneliness. Lesson learned is wisdom gained, unless of course, one did not learn from one's mistake. Making a mistake is just human. Not learning from it is just so lame. As for the opportunist, I don't worry, there's always karma to deal with them.

The beauty, well, one of many, about God is that He grants us human a gift called "free will". We are given the freedom to choose. Same as many other things in life, one is given the freedom to choose how he wants to handle this feeling called loneliness. You can choose to indulge in self pity and get drifted away, swallowed and drowned in an abyss of loneliness. Or you may choose to use loneliness as a tool to become creative. It is said that loneliness is the driving force of many famous artists and scientists. Then again, many suffer from depression and bipolar diseases, then unknown and was not an actual diagnosis. It was just called simply, "madness". How simple life was back then, when gay use to mean just.... happy.

For those who think that loneliness can be solved by marriage, well, only if you're lucky enough to have married your soul mate. You can be married yet still feel lonely. That is why I cannot understand it when someone claims that he/she is planning to get married in so and so timing. How can that be possible? You cannot time falling in love, so how exactly can you time a marriage? Unless of course you've found the one perfect for each other and timing is just of choice, then those claims are justified. Thinking back, I recall that that was the reason why I left my ex boyfriend. He proposed to me about three times and I was never ready. He loved me a lot, that I know. What I wasn't sure was, did he proposed because he loved me as much as I needed him to, or was it because he needed me to fit into his planner.

Life's funny that way. Out of billions of people on the surface of the earth most people have problems looking for the "perfect for each other". Some need go make a couple of mistakes before they ended up finding that perfect companion. How ironic is that? Out of that billions of people one should expect it an easy task to look for "the one"...hhhmmmhhh.....

Why am I writing all this? I don't know. Maybe because I'm feeling kind of lonely right about now, and want to tell the world that it's okay to feel lonely and there's nothing shameful admitting it. It's sort of a reminder that we are after all, human. Just like a storm that hit you and hit you hard, you'll just have to learn to wade it through, stay afloat, stay alive or even come up with something creative out of the whole ordeal. That guy who discovered electricity did just that when he felt the jolt as he touched the kite's strings as it waded through a stormy weather.

Through all this, do remember that God is always with you. He is as close to you as your jugular veins are. After sometime, you will get that warm fuzzy feeling like you're loved, and although you may be alone, you're not lonely anymore.......well, not until the next attack....


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Sunday, November 1, 2009

Alice in Widowland...

Some people live in Wonderland. I live in Widowland. In Wonderland, you get lost in wonderment, in Widowland, some people would want you to just get lost. Yes, I am a widow. I’ve been a widow for the past nearly a decade hitherto. I hate every minute of it. I don’t hate my life per se, in fact far from it. My life is perfect, even when it’s not. Oh no. It is not my life I hate in Widowland. I hate the fact that society, well some of them, insisted that when it comes to socializing, I am to be avoided like a leper. Some tend to stay away, the moment they hear the word “widow”. Some even show their lack of empathy when they make those lame “janda jokes”. Things always look funny when they don’t happen to you. But I’m not mean. I do not wish for anyone to end up in Widowhood . If I have my wish, I would wish for people to have empathy, so that we will never make fun of other people’s mishaps.

When you’re a widow, namely a Malay widow, trying to blend into society, on the surface, everything seems A-okay, and everyone is friendly and nice. But when you take the friendship to the next level, for example including you in their circle of invitations, or inviting you to their homes, most of the time, you’ll be the last one standing. It’s not like I want to go to those gatherings anyway, I don’t really appreciate being looked upon like a giraffe in the zoo, the single species, all eyes rolling from the top of my head right down to my toe, overwhelming with what look like pity. Or is it really pity? It would be nice to get invited in the first place, just so I can most likely politely decline. I know, this doesn’t make sense, but this is my life.

I’m not talking about everyone in society. Some are really nice people and the women do not mind widows talking to their husbands, and not worry that their hubbies would fall in love with me upon one conversation and we would end up in the sack, or worst, eventually elope (well, which one is worst depends on your priorities in life). That’s the best thing about being single. You can have sex with anyone and anything, donkeys included……if you want to (hey, I said ‘if you want to’) because you don’t have a better half to hurt. “Why buy a whole pig when you can settle for just the sausages”, so the saying goes. So why on earth would any sane widow want to sleep with someone else’s husband, let alone get emotionally involved with them? It’s just so lame, not to mention pointless.

That is why I am more comfortable in the company of the non-Malays because somehow rather I am not made to feel like an outcast, just because I’m single and fabulous. The latter is really not helping, to the eyes of the insecure. Well, I can’t help being fabulous can I?

I had this one incident at the club a couple of years back. Mrs. X’s daughter and her mom took a liking to my daughter, then 9 years old. Mrs. X would insist that her daughter and mine enroll in the same tennis and swimming class together. There were times when she would call me to the point of stalking. But the moment she learned that I’m a single parent, the calls suddenly stopped coming, to my relief actually, because I have this problems with clingy beings….I just don’t like them clinging onto me..it’s suffocating.

But there is the truth in that term “There is a god after all”, because Karma saw my dignity reinstated. (“dignity” as in her context). I took the most handsomest looking guy and fun too, to a cocktail dinner where Jit Murad performed a live stand up comedy, and for once, the comedy was live in the sense that I had a good laugh at the live scene, unplugged, when the widow-phobic lady’s husband sat right beside me at the round dinner table. I SMS-ed my date from under the table and he was sporting enough to put on a live show, a demonstration of affection, for the jealous lady and her sad looking husband. Honestly, looking at her husband, I cannot decipher why on earth was she worried about? And oh, did I mention that my hunk date happened to be my gay friend? They are so handy, these gay friends.

Another thing, I hate the way most,Malay guys, especially the single ones thinks just because the world is in shortage of men, all women will be had at hello. Puuuhleeeezzzzz…let’s just leave the vomiting to morning sickness and to food poisoning shall we? This is the thing about Malay men, they think any women who are trying to be a little friendly with them, have the ulterior motive of tricking them into marriage. The guy Malay friends that I have today, are those from student days, and they know me too well, I value their platonic friendship more than anything else. Those who cannot comprehend the value of friendship, regardless of gender, color, religious belief, are those who act strangely and tend to keep the distance away. Maybe it is they themselves that they cannot trust. Well, obviously that is not my problem. It’s their lost…

It’s sad really. I am comfortable being single, and dare I say, happy. But society has it that they will not rest until they’ve figured widows out. Why had she not remarried? Is there something wrong with her? I should just go around wearing a T shirt that says, “SINGLE AND HAPPY. ARE YOU HAPPY BEING NON-SINGLE?” I have a high index suspicion that T-shirt will piss off many unhappy married couples. It’s the society, somehow insists that singleton is a pathetic way to be. How can I believe that when there are many married women coming into the clinic and crying their eyeballs off their sockets, narrating to me some of the most amazingly sad stories about their married life?


We don’t need the lame jokes. We don’t need a man to rescue us. We don’t need to have the authority to encourage Malay men to make single moms their second wives, or so forth, that is more of insulting, rather than helping. We don’t even need sympathy. What we badly need though, is a simple thing called “empathy”. Yes, that is all and the best part is, it does not cost anyone anything. Try to understand that even when sometimes we miss having a man in our lives, going all the way to jeopardize our integrity and values just to get another man, is not worth it. If you’ve experienced true love and marriage, then lost that, understand something; you won’t bother having a relationship just for the heck of having one…because not just any man will do.

Here's a song I dedicate to all single parents, men and women....there will be one of those days, when you will feel beaten down, jaded and lonely. But here's the good news...when you've hit bottom rock, there's no where else to go from that point except UP... stay strong and remember, you're not alone....God is with you...here's a beautiful song by Whitney, "I look to you"....


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Monday, October 19, 2009

Learning to let go...

I hope by now, you have gone to watch PapaDom, a film by Afdlin Shauki. Frankly, I think he's one of the most creative mind to grace our entertainment industry since the late P. Ramlee. I do hope people will appreciate him NOW before it's too late. Gratitude is more meaningful to man alive, rather than dead.

Please tell me you have not seen the movie via a ciplak cd, it'll really break my heart. I'm sure, just like me, you'd like to see Afdlin come up with more creative movies that will entertain us in the future, and hopefully our children.

I don't know about you, but I really love the movie. It made me laugh. It made me cry. It made me ponder. I left the theatre enveloped with a warm fuzzy feeling of love and tenderness. What more can one ask from a movie.

It started off kind of slow (for Afdlin's standard as he normally attack the audience from the moment he started to narrate things), but it picked up smoothly. Used to Afdlin' comedy mode, I was thrown off guard with some scenes, that instantly turned me into an emo twit.

I won't give away that much because I do not want to spoil it for those who have not seen the movie yet. I love it that it's a simple daily life plot that probably happen to most of us today, but narrated in an angle which brings out the humour and humanity of the ordinary people. If anything, it made ordinary people look extra ordinary.

My favourite bit was a bit more emo as I think, this particular movie touches the heart of all, but especially widows and widowers. I always tell my friends that I hope no one lives to experience what I've experienced in life, in a sense of loosing my hubby. That is because, you will never know how it feels like, until you feel it yourself. No one can feel for the widows/widowers. So there was this bit whereby Dom (Afdlin) said to his late wife in a melancholy tone,(in his imagination of his wife that came to life in the movie), "Abang rindukan Mun" (I miss you Mun), and there was a moment where there was a void of dialog, Dom and Mun looked at each other and then Mun put her chin on Dom's shoulders and lightly hugged him from the side. That particular silence was a loud scream of emotions for those who know how it feels like, to miss someone that they will never be able to be with again. Even as I am writing this, I can feel the gush of sadness dawning. If this be a piece of paper where I'm suppose to scribble with a pen, you'd witness dots of tears smearing the ink and crinkling the points on the paper where my tears had hit them.

Then there's the issue about letting go. If there's any song I see fit to play at the background of this post, it'll be "Strumming my pain, with his fingers, singing my life with his words, killing me softly with his songs..." because this movie sang my life out loud. I'm not as bad a stalker to my kid as Dom was to his daughter, but that words rang true, "Abah hanya ada Mia dalam hidup ni. Mia lah kehidupan Abah" or something like that (I only have you in my life. You are my life). It's true. For most parents, but especially single parents with a single kid, the kid's life becomes the centre of the parent's life, so much so, it will be very difficult for such parents to learn to let go. When the kid goes off to have their own take of the world, most single parents would probably feel a huge void where the kid had stepped away from.

Just like Dom, I know I have let go at some time in the near future. All parents know that. But we also know, that we will never be prepared to face it when the time comes. But I guess that is the ultimate sacrifice and display of love to our children. Learning to let go, and allow them to make their own life, giving room for them to make their own mistakes and to learn from it.

After preparing them for the real world, parents need to just let go, sit back and nibble our nails off in suspense,watching from a short distance and continue to pray ....
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Monday, September 21, 2009

A safer way to get high....

I have a few songs that when I take a listen, can make me travel far far away. They take my soul out of the body and make me feel like I'm floating to some place that is free and uninhibited. All I have to do is just close my eyes and imagine that I'm somewhere else, somewhere no one can find me, a little place I call my own, where I'm untouchable. It could be any time in the past, present or future. This is one such song;(ummmmmm...I did say close my eyes, and please excuse Madonna's performance in this video. I think she should just stick to music entertainment...just concentrate on the song kay folks...)


(POST ENDS HERE)

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Sunday, August 30, 2009

What is love to me....

A facebook friend inboxed me, one fine day, asking me "What love is to you". My,my. That is an awfully difficult question, considering nobody knows the answer anyway, not even me. I'm past 4o heading gracefully towards the peri-menopausal age, and frankly, I still do not know what love is to me. But, nevertheless, I'll give it my best shot.

What love is to me:

1. It's when you start acting silly, and try hard to impress. (sometimes too hard and that could prove catastrophic!!)

2. It's when your tummy starts to rumble and churn before you go out on a date with him, and no amount of anti diarrhea drugs can simmer it down.

3. It's when you're there, but you're not. It's like your heart stopped beating and your lungs just decided to follow the protest, the first time you see him in that different way.

4. It's when you hurt for silly matters like him forgetting your birthday, which coincidentally, when you hit above say 35, you try your best not to remember it yourself.

5. It's when you smile like an idiot, eyes gazing far beyond your colleages in a meeting discussing "how did this patient died".

6. It's when you start to bother about how you look. Now, that's one thing I don't miss and I definitely do not miss shaving before going out on a date.

7. It's when you hear birds serenading songs of love.

8. It's when you start listening to heavy metal again, just because he does.

9. It's when you look into his eyes and everything else does not matter

10. It's when you know you're in deep deep deeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep trouble...

There's more, but I'll just stop here.

Conclusion; love is just love - undefined, innocent, maddening, frustrating at times, can get you higher than any intoxicating substance can, can get you lower than low, can make you cry even more than a dead elephant in "Hati mere sathi" can, can make you laugh until you cry.

Honestly, I do know what love is to me, but somehow, I've just forgotten the feeling.

Hope that answered your question my dear Nia...

(The luuuuuuuuuuuurrve talk ends here)

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Friday, July 31, 2009

The smartest of women...

On my way to work today, I stopped to allow a family of Arabs to cross the road. It wasn't a zebra crossing or anything like that, but I saw that the couple had 3children and a baby in a whatever it is they call it today; we use to call it "Pram". I noticed that the husband was slightly ahead of his wife, who was pushing the pram and was with two daughters, whilst the he was with a boy held in one hand, and a bag on the other. It was not a narrow lane and I was on the right side of the it.

As I stopped, I notice the cars on the left did not, well, not many cars, the man could have crossed the road if he had wanted to. But he didn't. He just stood there, looking like he's waiting for oil to spring out of the earth. So there I was, stagnant in the middle of a junction, with MJ's "Beat It" keeping me company, which I find kind of ironic, given the situation I was in at the time, waiting for Adam's family to cross. (Come to think of it, that song, “Didi” , you know, the Arabic song that goes Didi here and Didi there and Didi all throughout the song, which I don’t comprehend anyway, except for the word Didi which I presumed is the lover’s name, is much more ironic should it be played while they were crossing the road). Actually, I was rather urging them to cross after feeling frustrated that the husband did not make the move to do so, so I had to give him the hand gesture, an international language understood by most, apart from the middle finger International Sign Language understood by all, to "cross the goddamn road cause I'm going to be late if I wait for you, dammit".

Suddenly there was movement going on with the man and he managed to get himself right in front of my car, waiting for the car on the left side, that by the way was about 50meters behind, as I caught a glimpse of the Toyota going on a speed slightly faster than that of the donkey cart's, to pass through. The man managed to cross after the Toyota passed by, but the wife stood there, in full splendor of the black hijab, with the baby in the pram and the two girls, probably aged 6-7 years, they look like they belong to the same ages, (they probably have not heard of the word 'gap your pregnancy' in all the excitement to propagate forth, to a nation of quantity, but don't know about the quality), who are by now excited to cross the road, after seeing that the father was already at the other side of the pavement.

The two kids, after receiving the signal to cross from the dad, gladly did so, but by the time they did, another car was forced to stop for them (well, the driver should have had half the common sense to stop for pedestrian voluntarily right?). Now, there were two cars in the middle of the road, waiting for Royal Ninja-ness to push the pram to cross the road, yet still, she hesitated, which left me irritated. Hello!! Do you expect your hubby cross the road and come get you to cross together? Or what then? Permission to move? Finally when she crossed the road, much to the relief of all, (not so much for them but for rather relieved for ourselves)to not be tipped off our schedules), life resumed.

Don't get me wrong, although there were no crossings to indicate the cars should stop for pedestrians, (does it make any difference with the Malaysian drivers, even if there were?), it seemed ethical to do so, and I strongly believe that the cars on the left should have stopped for the kids at least. But to not be able to cross a simple road without the help of your man, now, that is pathetic indeed. And don't let me start on that husband of hers, who could have taken the two daughters along with him when he first crossed the road. What is he? The King of England, and all women including children should walk 1 meters behind him?

It makes me feel so blessed indeed, upon looking at how that Arab lady was unable to do a simple thing like crossing the road all by herself, without becoming a nuisance by stopping traffic. I feel grateful that I am born a Muslim woman in Malaysia, rather than any other "Islamic country" that ironically seem to ignore the very essence of the reason why Islam is brought down upon them in the first place; that is to battle any form of oppression, and declare every soul as equal beings regardless of gender, color, culture and whatever it is that humans are fond of categorizing themselves, just to have a sense of belonging, or perhaps merely a victim of politicians' divide and rule policy.

I have mixed feelings when it comes to Arab women. I can't make out whether they are smarter in the sense that, unlike us, the "modern women", they don't need to bloody drive to work in an hour that is more suitable to roll around in bed entertaining our laziness, or just trapped in their culture. Let me not start on the traffic jam, if women were to drive to work slightly later. Or should I just envy them for being able to play that "oh, dear gawwwwd, aaah've just drop maah handkerchief" stunt and play the men by making them work like the dog only to have their women, who sit around all day long enough to even have time to watch their in-growing toe nail growing the wrong direction, spend it all lavishly.

Frankly, I think some of the Asian women, especially Malay women, are the least smartest amongst women. We let our men bully us by letting ourselves believe in the crap the Uztaz and Ustazah sell about,"women can go to work provided they do not neglect their households". This translated to women going to work, coming back and work as a maid if the family is unable to afford an actual maid, ergo contributing to the family in the sense of money as well as hard labor, which by the way, includes "entertaining the husbands past the kids' bedtime", (I consider having sex when one is exhausted is labour)

These women, are lucky if the husbands are able to locate where in their houses, the kitchen is situated. Some husbands may even get lost and end up in the maids' rooms on the way to the kitchen that they cannot locate. I've heard stories, even husbands suddenly developing "sleep walk to maid's room" syndrome without prior history of any sleepwalking during childhood.

And we look at the Arab women, feeling pity for them, just because they are made to wear something that hides all of god's beauty, and not able to drive nor go to work, or to have their own minds, let alone voice them. Just to digress a little, my Yemeni friend, Ali, back in college once told me that he got into trouble once with his mom for whistling at her, of course not knowing he was whistling at his own mother who just came back from the market. I mean, it’s not his fault either, except for the whistling, which I blame the hormones, because all Yemeni women are clad in black hijab. I smile when I recall Ali. He was a real joker, which is rare for an Arab. He once told me that he want to get married to four beautiful women, all from different races, so that even when they get angry with each other, none understood each other due to language barrier, so that will keep everyone, especially him, happy. Only he can get away with polygamy jokes that Ali…But we must remember, the Arab women may laugh at us, thinking how stupid we all are to let our men manipulate us in the name of Women's Liberation, have us do almost everything for them, running around like fools. It works both ways...

On the other hand, perhaps our lives may not be perfect, but we have what is called a choice to be independent. Unlike women,however, men do are not blessed with the same choice. Men, have no choice but to be independent and work, whether they like it or not. I'm not so sure where does all this womanly independence will get us, after all, those dependent Arab women still end up the same place we independent women brag to end up in,which is the shopping mall, and they do not have to sweat for the money they spent.(let the men think they are all macho, work like the dog and spend all their money....who's smarter eh?).

A point worth noting though; independent or otherwise, women however, need to be educated. An educated home-maker, (which incidentally is my dream job that could never really materialize), for instance, produces smarter off springs, if of course she spends quality time with the children. Imagine if a wife is totally dependent on the husband, and is not educated. What fate lies for here should, god forbidden, anything happens to the husband.

Independent or otherwise, I guess it depends on what makes a woman happy. However, it is safe to say that independent women, although sometimes secretly wish that they are having a fab time like the Arab ladies,(the part where they get money without having to lift a finger) have one thing that we seem to take for granted, but is very important for a human being to possess; it is called self value, err, not that those not working don't have it, it's just the independent women have more of it I guess. You do not have to kiss butt feeling unhappy about it, in order to sustain your own life. If you depend too much on men, you need to gulp your pride a lot too, and put up with their crap, and by god we all have lived long enough to note that most men are so full of crap. I don't know about you, but that reason is good enough for me....


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Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Shari's Lists..........

I have a list. Not as Blockbuster movie worthy kind of list such as the "Schindler's List" but hey, it's mine. Whilst Schindler may have saved lives with that list, mine would probably save some women, their sanity. I may be saving women from themselves, and from certain type of men. When someone goes shopping, he/especially-she will prepares a list, so that upon entering the shopping complex, the potent combination (to increase debt or spending unnecessarily) of ginormous distraction posed by the luring material displays and one's desire to own just about everything ( I believe a shorter description is "greed"), may still be entertained but not at the expense of loosing the main purpose of coming into the shopping mall in the first place. You need a list, to execute the job effectively and minimize time consumption.

The same goes with dating. You need to have a checklist of criterion to further shortlist the very short list anyway, of available men left on planet earth to date. (if your age is say, above 40). Unless we manage to find intelligent life forms in an unearthly planet somewhere out there, where incidentally where all the truth lies, then I have bad news for you ladies, "the list IS short", especially when your prime criterion is "intelligent". With a list as a guideline, you will never again waste your time on unsuitable candidate. The time wasted on worrying whether he'd call back is best used to say, increase the number of clean underwear in the wardrobe by having the extra time cleaning them (vicious cycle this one) instead of lying around listening to the Michael Bolton wailing "Tell me how am I suppose to live without youuuuuu", hoping that every time the phone rings, it would be him, telling you,"I've just left my wife".

It's a list, a checklist to be precise, of courting. I’m not talking about the checklist that checks whether you’ve shaved your legs or such, no, I’m talking about criterion checklist. Yes,. it's a checklist on who I'd go out with or not. This did not happen when I was younger (and probably more fun to fall in love with) because I did not bother with the checklist. My first, no, second date ended up with a relationship that lasted about 6 years. My first date was an arranged meeting with my distance cousin, and the "relationship" lasted for only 3 months. My mother was more devastated than I was with the break up. I had two little flings somewhere between my second date and my third, who turned out to be my hubby. When you are the career orientated type, and young, chasing after your ambition, basically you don't really have the time to date, so a list was quite unnecessary. And boy those days were fun. It was 3 years after my husband's death, that I began dating again. And the dating game seemed more complicated and tough, since I left it a decade ago, because, I now know what it feels like to be in a meaningful relationship, and something in the game of love began to change. It's called "being selective".

You see, when you're older and hopefully wiser, you've suddenly developed something that is potent in killing romance , it's called "thinking". You actually stop to think before committing to any relationship and basically, that's what thinking does, it kills romance, I have to agree with Oscar Wilde. So, you end up in this vicious cycle of hesitating to submit to romance, because you think too much and in the end, that thinking took too much time and it killed the moment, and even perhaps the potential romance. It is simply because we have past the age of looking for just romance. We've come to value the longevity of a relationship regardless of where it may end up. Taking the risk and jumping into a relationship with you eyes closed, which seemed natural when we were young, now seem to get you into this tiring emotional turmoil, and you act like a child who would hesitate upon just learning that the fire is hot and can actually burn your fingers.

Unless you've been a hermit prior to reaching peri-menopausal ages, then you'd have no idea of how time can get wasted if you don't have a list. When a woman ages ( I don't know about men, I've never been a man before) we have lost the ability to tolerate rubbish, and trust me, some men can be real rubbish. I'd rather for instance, sit and write something, or read, or even pull my armpit hair whilst listening to the mentally and audio-torturous dangdut music, rather than having to go out on a date with a guy who, say, is someones husband, because you know that it's a bloody waste of time. Why do you think most men find younger women exciting and fresh, and older women cynical and boring? Because older women "knows" and their tricks won’t work on experienced women, we can read them like the back of our hands. He farted and you will know what was the last content of his food, so to speak.

When I say date, I don't mean going out as just friends. I meant going out with the intention of having a relationship if both can at least tolerate each other enough to give relationship a try. In fact, when someone asks me out on a date, the very first question I'd ask would be, "Are you married?". Because I just don't go out with a married man, period, no matter how soon he claims that he's going to leave his wife. (Trust me, I've seen many cases whereby men date on the excuse of "miserable in life and about to leave his nasty wife", the women end up crying on my consultation couch, whilst the men who were about to leave the wives, took their wives to places like Paris to break off with them, only to come back and give another dumb excuse to delay the divorce. How soon this pattern ends, depends on how soon the women develop wisdom. Don't fall for that one girls)

I have two lists in fact. It's just an example of how a list can be made. If you're happy being alone, it's alright really, it's better to be happy alone than to be miserable in a relationship. One list, is the checklist of people I'd go out with the quality that I like, the other is the guys I won't even consider going out with, at all. Trust me, when you have aged and have a had a couple of failed relationships, not to mention a couple of rubbish ones in between, just to get you to the failed ones, before you finally get to "the one", even if you don't know what you're looking for, you will be sure as hell, know what you're not!!!

The former however, becomes shorter than the latter as time goes by. The first list gets shorter because, well, since I don't date married man, and most of the good men are taken (or don't have the balls to leave their wives no matter how miserable they appear to be in the marriage, they'd rather hurt others by cheating and philandering), and well, I don't mind dating men who are younger than me, which I have by the way, (but I guess the problem lies in my being slightly matured for my age and we all know that men grow old, but hardly grow up)., so, I guess the list is extremely short because of lack of supply of good available men, left for you to date. If you think things cannot get even more impossible, some men suddenly decided to become gay. I don't really care if they do, I have long past the days when I judge, it's their prerogative, but it's just a pity that the gays are the almost perfect men!!!

I mean, how can you compete with a gay for the same man, you tell me. You can't even tell that man you're after, "What has he got that I don't have?" because hello...how can you compete for a guy with a gay when you don't have a dick AND a hole in one package!!! Naah, just pulling a fast one. I think gay men make the best women pals because unlike the macho men wanabes with mostly, their ego that are bigger than their love tool, gay men understands women. And there is no competition, because gay men do not go after straight guys. So there you go..who say men and women cannot be the best of friends because the sex will get in the way?

So, anyway, here's my list of guys I don't even consider going out with. I'll list it as an example, for ladies out there who just don't have the time to put up with rubbish. You can come out with your own. Remember, this list is applicable for those who have had enough with putting up with rubbish. For those who still have the energy to jump with their eyes closed, and have the freakin' time, by all means, don't make a list!!!

(Click the link below if you have the passion and the patience to read on!!)

I'll start with the one list of men I won't even consider going out wit in no particular order (very Putrajaya indeed), because it's a shortcut to short-listing the probably non existing list of eligible men to have a decent relationship with.

1. Married men. I mean, unless you are totally desperate so much so you don't mind destroying a family not to mention the children's happiness, really, is there a point? Even if you manage to get him out of his marriage, break a home, marry him, one question shall haunt you forever, "will he do the same to me as he did his wife? Leave me for another woman. After all, he's done it before, break the trust of his former wife, he can do it again". You will forever not trust your newly owned husband and you will forever feel insecure, and jump the moment you see him talking to another woman, because you and you alone know what he is capable of when it comes to cheating. Do yourself a favor and answer this question, "Is that the happily ever after that you're looking for? A marriage not based on trust?"
I was asked out on a date a couple of times by married men,(trust me, the most eligible men in KL are the married ones) and when they answered my first question, whether they were single or married, I heard “I’m married, but errr…..”, I lost them at “err….”. Beyond “err…” lies all the insignificant details no one, except his wife, need to know or even listen. They can go on and on babbling, I’d keep very quiet and listen, but nothing really registers, since what went on in my mind was Nat King Cole’s song , “Fly right” , you know, the part when he said, “your story seem so touchy but it sounds just like a lie”. Then, upon finishing what he wants to say, I told them straight to their faces, “I don’t date married men”. When they come out with lines to convince me that it is okay, I just smiled and repeat the same mantra, “I don’t date married men, no point becoming just friends now, since I’m not comfortable with knowing you wanted more in the first place”…Astalavista baybe…….Well, even when they are not lying, would you want to be with someone who have the tendency to solve a problem, by creating a new one? It’s lame, I know….


2. Workaholics. Basically, when you marry a workaholic, you're automatically the second wife, unless you don’t mind sharing. Unfortunately, I’m an Aries, and Arians are forever a child, we need attention. Cut of the attention supply, we die. Most women who married workaholics are either more in love with the lifestyle these men can provide, rather than loving the men themselves, or love them tremendously to the point of stupor and have the patience to become understanding for the time he stood her up for the 55th time because he had to go golfing, or clubbing, in order to close a deal. Err...you need to have a man in the relationship, in order to have...a relationship, because you need to "relate" to each other, get it? relate-relationship?

3. Men who are just bad....not Michael Jackson's "Bad" but badder than bad. These are the people who'd kill, swindle, etc in order to gain power and wealth. Hmm..no wonder I have never dated politicians. My cousin tried to set me up, behind my back, with this diplomat, Malay guy, UMNO. He thought that just because he's got that fancy car and that fancy job and that fancy face, he could have any women he wanted. Maybe he did, but that was before he met me, and until I sent him off with what looked like his balls in his neck.( it's a talent, I call "intimidate", have coffee with me someday and I'll tell you all about it). I know my cousin meant well, but I felt secretly insulted, that she thought I'd be desperate enough to settle for a lame character. Needless to say, she never pulled any of her matchmaking stunt again. I know, even mafias marry. Well, notice why people make movies about the mafia, not their wives? It's because no one wants to watch a movie full of sadness from the beginning to the end....

4. Philanderers or playboys. Need I say more? You may say, “Oh, he sleeps around and is a playboy because he has not found the right one for him”. Trust me, 99% of philanderers and playboys will never find “the one” because “the one” is this perfect creature than cannot exist in one whole being, instead, only be made possible to exist in a form of “one in 5”. If you think that you can get to the 1% without having to go through at least 99% of the 99%, I suggest you reopen your Mathematics book, the chapter on "Kebarangkalian". By the way, people don’t change. They may think they do, and perhaps they may, for a while, until all that adrenalin of “love or lust at first sight, whatever”, wears off, and he’s off hunting again. It’s a game to them really. They’re not looking for “the one”. Like the adrenalin junkies, they’re looking for the excitement of romance and the getting away with cheating , like a Kleptomaniac.

5. Gamblers. A gambler is like a philanderer or playboy, only their romance is with chance. Notice that I did not put gamblers along with #3? That's because a gambler is not a bad man, rather, just have problems with self control, and they do not hurt others intentionally.

6. Megalomaniacs. I dated one a couple of years back, and it’s tiring just listening to how great he can be all day long. It’s a total put off. Who cares about how great you are, because if you really are, it’ll shine through somehow, and you don’t need to point it out. Hmm..maybe that is why I’ve not dated someone short lately…then again, I’ve always have this thing about men taller than me. A primal need to feel protected maybe, or just a victim of teenagers’ love paperbacks who put this idea of the perfect men as “tall dark and handsome”. I married one by the way…but the handsome part is debatable…if you think Ajev Devgan is cute, then my my hubby was handsome. To me, he’s good looking from the inside. It shined through. He use to buy the whole “pisang goreng” from the makcik by the roadside in the kampong where we were stationed, plus the bananas that was not cooked yet, to make sure the makcik was able to go home because it was getting dark and she was stubborn to continue selling. No, we did not constipate that week, because the bananas and the goreng pisang was distributed to our neighbours that evening.

7. Perverts. I especially hate it when they ask, “Do you sleep with your kid on the same bed?”. My my, jumping the gun aren’t we? I’d play along and say, “we come from a family who are independent in nature, and we begin with sleeping alone since childhood”, which is true by the way, but I just say it to make myself feel better, because, he’s gone after that.

8. Liars, pathological or not. This category of men may be able to get away with more than a couple of dates, until he gets caught. But, he will, because the truth will prevail sooner or later. If you are oblivious, then more likely later than sooner. I don’t mind white lies, but pathological liars are bad news. I’d rather sleep with the loudest snorer than a liar. At least, snores just deprive you from sleep, which you can replace later in the afternoon siesta. Lies deprive you of the truth, and to portray the ability for empathy.

9. Invertebrates. Men without backbones. Mommy’s son falls under this category, well, not all, but most. Or men from wealthy background whereby their parents hold them by the balls; weapon being the inheritance. Or men in general, who just cannot make their own decisions, even a bad one. I want a man. If I had wanted a kid to help make decisions for them, I’d get one. Oh wait!! You need a man for that, what a bummer. Oh well, at least not a man who’s developmentally retarded in the spinal sense of it.

10. Narrow-minded men. If I were to be a lesbian, then narrow minded women. Men, who think that women exist in this world to serve them for example, would sometimes pretend that they are okay with your being independent during courting time. The moment you tie the knot, then suddenly they will start to demand that the “Raja Sehari” status be extended forever, and try to decapitate you out of your freedom wings, and your right to be an individual. Suddenly, you are his subject and you must change to fit his life. This happens a lot with Malay men. I’ve seen couples hooked up after they met in places like the pubs and had a great time courting, but when they are married, suddenly, the girl was made to cover her head and stuff, just to make his mother happy. (she might as well marry the mother in law). For God’s sakes, the reason why you fell in love with each other in the first place was because you were being you. How the hell will they continue loving each other if they are forced to change into someone else?. It’s like you have to fall in love with a new partner all over again. Change can only happen from within, by the person's freewill. Even God grants us the freedom of will, to a certain extent. For this type of men, I say “Hatttttccchoooooo!!!” , stay away as any allergens that instigates allergy need to be…in a land far… far…. away.

I’m sure our parents did not spend all those time loving and caring for us, break their backs to put us through education process so as to give us away completely to some strangers known as the In Laws. That was why I’ve hardly, dated any Malay men. (and the ones I probably accidentally dated, kept reminding me, why I did not date Malay men in the first place). And needless to say, Malay men stay away from me because they cannot stand the idea that a woman can be more smarter, wiser then them, or worst, a smart mouth like me!!!. Basically, it’s to do with the big fat ego. Can’t blame them really, they were brought up to believe that men are superior then women. Malay women like me, comfortable with being independent yet capable of loving someone without being clingy at the same time, just intimidates them to the point of them being insecure. A total piss off. Honestly, if you want to win a heart of most of the Malay men out there, just pretend you’re stupid-er than them, become "gadis ayu" or just cover your head even though it’s not a requirement by God (I have nothing against those who cover their heads, it's their prerogative, it's the insistence that those who do not cover their head to do so, when nothing is stated in the Quran is what pisses me off. Here, read THIS if you have interest in finding out more), in short, learn how to be a hypocrite. (Of course unless if you are comfortable thinking that you are stupider than men, or some second class citizen, or perhaps comfortable at being a hypocrite, then kindly disregard my previous statement. Go ahead and be happy…after all, ignorance can be a bliss). If you can manage that for the rest of the marriage, then, both will have a happily ever after ending, never mind how much Prozak the woman swallows just to keep the marriage alive.

Furthermore, even from my younger days, I hardly have guy pals, who are Malays because they tend to “perasan” that any gal who comes in proximity of 10meters in diameter near them, is because she’s going to try and trap them into a marriage. Frankly, when it comes to most Malay men,(take note the word “most” attached prior to the word “Malay”), I don’t know whether to use my normal friendly tone, or just to ignore them completely, because if you become a little extra friendly, like dare crack some dirty jokes with them, many tend to get the wrong idea, like it’s a sign that you’re interested to jump into their pants…puuuuhleeeeezzzz…..or if you ignore them, then you become “sombong or berlagak”. I prefer to be called the latter. I married a Punjabi for God’s sakes!! hellllllooooo…at least he appreciated me for what I am and even made me more independent. ( a cibhai guy pal of mine, that’s Chinese mix with Bhai by the way, told me “once you kena kari, you tak boleh lari”….LOL!!! I guess that is a Malaysian version of “Once you go black, you will never turn back”…I can go on with this rubbish I tell you…)

11. A pussy. If I wanted to have a relationship with a pussy, I might as well start dating women and decrease my probability of staying home alone on a weekend since statistics shows that women outnumbered men. Obviously this was what men prayed for on mass prayers, since the last century. We women were busy fighting over men, when all we could have done a couple of centuries ago, was to pray for more men than women. Polyandry could have been the trend today, otherwise… ah well, …..could have, would have but didn’t…so don’t go around avowing that women are smarter than men when it comes to relationships.

12. A lazy bum. No need explanation for that right? Garfield characters are best left to read on comic strips, not to have a relationship with let alone marry. Besides, making love would be boring...

13. Men who had just gone through a divorce. It's like dating Smeagol from Lord Of the Ring. One day you're his "precious" (accompanied by the heavy breathing) and the next day he'll be withdrawn and alienated and left you wondering what happened to "precious". Unless you're killing time and while waiting, don't mind dating "The Rest" while waiting for "The One", or have time for another emotional roller coaster ride, then go ahead, be my guest. Otherwise, stay away from Smeagol until he's gotten over his ex completely.

14. Drunkards. Because drunkards have the tendency to commit attrocities and you'll be sucked into this warp of dramatic life...most of them involving anti anxiety and sleeping tablets to keep you going.

15. Ongoing list. Keeping it open to add more through experience. Kind of my “Keep In View” list, that potentially someday make dating almost impossible. So far, the potentials in this list are; politicians – specifically from UMNO, golf-maniacs (it’s bad enough that I’m a widow to a man I love, I ain’t gonna be a Golf Widow too), any maniac for that matter,

As for the checklist of people I’d go out with, .wait, .let me rephrase that, people who are still single, available, not gay and not looney, which incidentally happen to be very scarce but not to the point of extinction,...yet..... that I would consider going out on a date would be;

1. A good soul, someone who is rich with humility and humanity and kind. (The human pool available to date gets smaller.)

2. Spiritual and righteous and have the balls to stand up for his beliefs. Very shaggidalic, yeah, bayybee….I can never be with someone who don’t believe in the existence of god, because that would mean that he doesn’t believe a large part of me.

3. A potential good companion with whom I can have good conversations, doesn't have to be smart conversation all the time...(suddenly Billy Joel's song gave tinnitis to my ears with those words," I don't need clever, conversations"....). Plus point would be one who can make me laugh. (The human pool is slowly coming to a size of extinction). I once left a date in a middle of a date because I got bored with listening to him talking about himself. When I tried to change the subject to something general, he somehow rather brought it back to him, and how he saved some lives who were lost in the jungle (yeah, a Singaporean lost in tertiary jungle, big deal. They can even get lost just following Malaysians signboard). I excused myself to the ladies, called my friend up, told her to fake an emergency and call me before I become the first person to die from a boring conversation. I know…. it’s lame.

4. Someone who portrays the ability to empathize, who’d understand that when a woman whines, she’s not looking for a specific solution, but just wanted a shoulder to cry on. A foot massage would make me fall in infatuation instantly.

5. Someone low keyed. I don’t enjoy much attention and value privacy like it’s oxygen (privacy, yeah, that explains this article…). Let me rephrase that; I enjoy physical privacy. I hate making small conversation, even if my job turned me into a good small-conversationist, if such a word exists.

6. Someone who have a job, an honest one. It doesn’t matter what, as long as he’s not unemployed. Men who are not happy with his life especially with his work, let alone with unemployment, will never be happy in any relationship. I don’t want to date an unnecessarily unhappy man.

7. It's an ongoing list.

Don't get me wrong, look not for the perfect man; for such a man or a woman for that matter, does not exist...because, nobody IS perfect......the perfect-for-each-other would be a great start....

N.B Because of this list, I have now live a life of a hermit. Oh, but don't feel sorry for me because it's by choice. Let's just say, I've been there and done that and frankly, I'm jaded. It occurred to me, that when I first met my husband, I did not even have to work on it. I was in a relationship with my boyfriend, ex boyfriend, and was hanging out with this guy pal pouring my heart about love and life, (innocently thinking he was just there for me as just friends, until he started sending me roses when I told him I fancied my late husband!! He's a Malay by the way..who's to know what goes on inside a Malay men's head..they like to wait the last minute don't they?) when our destiny crossed each others' paths. Only for the reasons that I will know, and God of course, I took an unlikely path and it accidentally bumped into his. The rest was history. I shouldn't be proud of this, but I left my then boyfriend (in a good way, complete with closure) who was already a full fledge doctor, and hooked up with my hubby instead, who was still struggling to pass his final year exams. How can I explain the strange thing called serendipity and destiny? The answer is, I can't. Neither will I attempt to. If I were to do it all over again, knowing that I'd be a widow today, I'd still pick my husband.

The beautiful thing about being a human being, is that we have something to get us going and it's called "hope". Who knows, I may get lucky again and fate has it that I stumble into the path of another "the one".(judging by the list...I think God has to intervene.heh..heh....well,it wont' be the first time.). I'm not hopeless, just hopeful. .
Do listen in to the lyrics, they're beautiful..


In the meantime, there are other beautiful things in life, awaiting to be embraced..



Click here if you have the passion and patience to read more!!...

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

Bra-ssure ah?

I hate buying brassieres!! It's mentally traumatizing and self esteem wrecking, well, at least to me. The stressful fact that my existing bra needed replacement…. yet again, could instigate a series of hormonal changes in my already failed to defy gravity body, resulting in zits that made my face look like a teenager, inconsistent with the theme of the rest of my body which is joining the rest of the Muslim country in Malaysia and The Club of Doom. It's not like my breasts had grown a size bigger. In fact, I secretly suspect that I may be the world’s first undiagnosed female, who have a polymastia/accessory breasts/or in laymen's term; THE THIRD BREAST , and probably the first to have the fourth one without actually having the first two... I read somewhere though, "this is the age when we finally get our head together, only to have the rest of the body falling apart". Well, at least I have one thing less to sag...then again, how can they sag when technically, they don't exist?

This is my dilemma. I take after my father, the flat chested part included in the package; how inconvenient. Let me put it to you this way; when others say they are worried about the small lumps they’ve discovered in their breasts, I worry about the small lumps on my chest are actually the breasts. Anyway, a friend suggested a push up bra, a maximizer apparently it's called. I try them on, and discovered that in order to look good in a push up bra, you need to have breasts for the bra to have something to push up. So, let me run you through with this; for your breasts to look good, you need a push up bra. To be able to use a push up bra however, you need to have a good size breasts. Therefore, if you are flat chested, you’re busted…in a non-busty sense of it. Indeed, it is but a vicious cycle. Oh joy, another potential topic for the Discovery Channel.

And why the hell women need to use a bra in the first place?!! Some tribes in Africa are happily moving around with their boobs dangling like they’re lunch boxes, which technically, is what they are. A twin set of lunch boxes to be precise. After all, if all women go around half naked - the upper half naked, just to be exact, then men would get used to looking at those dangling boobs and well, they won’t be ummm.. “moved” by them after some time. It’s just human nature really; they get excited when things aren’t accessible to them. Look at doctors for instance. Breast examination could actually embarrass the doctors rather than the patients. Gynaecologists be another example; when you bump into them in the hallway,chances are, they may not even recognize you, until you lie down on the examination table and they take a look at your “gateway to procreation” only then they may greet you, “Oh hello Mrs So and So, nice to see you again”. It’s a form of patient identification method rather than a sexual object really.

Why do you think the Arabs make their women wear the Hijab. It gives them prolong and never ending excitement. First, get excited with those lovely pair of eyes. When eyes don't excite no more, then the nose is next, the cheeks then…. by the time they get to see the hair (which would probably be the last thing to see because basically, covering the hair is given prime importance in Islam – never mind if you don’t wear underwear for convenience of the “thou shalt propagate forth” ), they would have gotten old and exhausted.

Then there's the line of comfy cotton teenage bra, (how sad, I’ve resolved to that) but alas! They do not have them in skin color. They have all the fancy designs in bright colors which made me wonder, aren't bras suppose to remain not just Victoria’s secret but secret of all women too?
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What next, a sequel to Wonder Woman whereby she wears not only her underwear over her tights, but also her bra over her shirt? Oh wait…she did that already, redefining undergarment. In fact, she just wore the bra…probably in a haste all the time to save everyone's day, no time to put a shirt on . Hmm…maybe that was how Wonder Woman got her name…from Wonder Bra..
Sometimes I wonder, why bother with the bra. Flat chested women should just go around wearing that Pagoda Singlet…why bother hiding something that’s not there anyway.

So, why is buying brassieres traumatizing for some women again?, or perhaps it’s just for me. I don’t know about the others but for me, getting a bra is as tough as getting a man. You need something that is supportive, protective, reliable, trustworthy, comfortable, sexy and close to your heart. But unlike men, brassieres you can buy….
(don't bother clicking onto the link below...post ends here...it's a technical error of which I have yet to correct..after i do my brassiere shopping..sigh..)
Click here if you have the passion and patience to read more!!...

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

"When Harry Shagged Sally..."

I was doing 90km/hr on the highway, just cruising along on a snoozy Sunday afternoon when I decided that I have had an overdosed of zen from "The Phantom of the Opera" sound track, and changed the mode back to 89.9. No, wait, that's BFM, something I listen to when I've had enough with the "Black music" singing mostly about how horny they are or white boy trying to rap like da brothers yo.... It's kind of amusing to listen to how a white "black wanabe" Eminem slams a black "white wanabe" Michael Jackson in a talking "singing wanabe" music we call "rap". Actually, I think it was Jules and Prem on the Fly Fm chatting away. I'm pretty sure it was not Hitz FM because I haven't been feeling mentally retarded for quite some time now.

What were the DJs talking about? Well, whadaya know...It's that cliche topic "Can men and women be just friends". Oh! For Gawd's sakes, can they move on to some other up to date topic like, "Can men and women still remain friends after they shag each other stupid once upon a Heinnekken?" or something like that. Then there will be the battle among sexes. Guys will say this and gals will say that, sometimes more to spite each other rather than answering the question, which was kind of cool for me.


If it's not for my loosing my hands-free,well, actually I still would not have called to tell them the answer. Fortunate for the human species, the answer is not 42 (hah..trust some Artificial Intelligent being to come up with an answer. Oh, and you've got to be a fan of Douglas Adams to understand what I've just said). What is the answer you ask me? Well of course there is an answer. It's just that I don't have it with me. You see, the truth is OUT THERE, not in here. But if you insist on me answering a question for the heck of answering, well then, then my answer would be "Yes of course a man and a woman can be just friends!!! If one of them is homosexual......duuuuuhhhhhh...". I think gay men and women make the best of friends. Besides, there's no competition for total men out there amongst women and gay men because, if you're gay, you're gay, it just happen to be that way. Gay men don't go after straight guys.

Okay, here's the rest of the answer for those who are straight ; "Yes, a man and a woman can be just friends only if the woman decided so". I say that not because I'm a sexist, but via my observation through time, based on my experience and the experience of others that confided in me. Besides, most of my closes friends are guys...I know what goes on in their minds because, sometimes, they tend to forget that I am a woman.....Noooo...not because I'm not attractive..it's because I lay down the terms and take control...just show them it's more fun being friends than having women as sex objects...(why...?! You actually were gullible enough to think that men actually evolved from apes? Psssstttt.....they never did you know....they have yet to evolve someday when it comes to their luuuuuuurrrrve tool...)
( Click below to find out why "men and women cannot be just friends unless..." and some video scenes from "When Harry Met Sally").

You can't blame men for this. It's just that nature have it that way, that they have to share the total body blood supply amongst two heads. You can't trust an oxygen deprived male brain (the actual gray matter)when it goes into autopilot mode. All the more should it be intoxicated with alcohol, although sometimes, poor ol' alcohol gets the blame when men looks for loop holes to fill up holes using alcohol as a lame excuse. Sometimes they're not even drunk yet before those hands starts sending drones. This is why, women should get drunk only with gal pals. Okay, perhaps not a very good suggestion as you never know, the next day you wake up, suddenly you've become an overnight lesbian. Well, unless of course if you want to, otherwise, just don't get drunk. Drinking and driving may just be the least of your problems. Here, listen to what Harry said:



I can go on and on, but I've decided to post another scene from "When Harry met Sally". This clip is a little long, but it summarizes the whole "Why it is women who can control the situation to just keep it as just friends". Take a peep...this is what happened "When Harry Shagged Sally"...



Notice how Harry's expression differs from Sally's during the aftermath? Well, ladies...do the math......


I hear someone say that "well, they ended up happily ever after". My dear friends, I have bad news for you. Happily ever after only occur in small percentage of statistics. It's so rare, that was why they made it into a movie!!!

I mean, watch this happy ending here and tell me this happens in real life; It's endearing no doubt..but still...surreal...



I know...it's this kind of happy ending that make those who make the bigger portion that made up the statistics of unhappy endings, do idiotic things in the name of love.....

"Friendship is more tragic than love. It lasts longer"
- Oscar Wilde -

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Saturday, July 4, 2009

To love and be loved in return....how now?

I was going through my CD collection, in an effort to compile most of these songs into an iPod, (yes, it’s time to move a step forward from the Dinosaur Age) when my eyes locked gaze with Nat King Cole. I was not born in the era of artists like Oscar Peterson, Nat King Cole, Duke Ellington, Ella Fitzgerald and many more, but having an uncle who was fond of playing even the National Anthem in jazz arrangement, somehow helped made me appreciate conventional jazz, even more than I do the fusion and fission version. The oldies seem to have songs with simple melody and a simpler lyric that do not offend or cause discomfort to the genital areas of some listeners. You don’t know what I mean? Well, take Pussycat Dolls songs for example. I won’t even bother to comment on the market strategy of the group name (pussy…yeah….), so let me go straight to the lyrics;

Funny how a man only thinks about the..
You got a real big heart
And he’s lookin’ at yer…
You got a real big brain
But he’s lookin’ at yer…
Girl there ain’t no pain in me lookin’ at yer..

“I don’t give a damn
keep lookin’ at maah…
cause it don’t mean a thayng if yer lookin’ at maah…
ammedo maah thayng while you’re playin’ withcha..”
(some heavy breathing HAH HAH HAH ensues…)

My pussy though, (as in my kampong cat) can co a better job with the lyrics by summarizing the whole lines to a simple “NNNGGGAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUU” that comes from deep within the gut. Now, every cat in the neighborhood understands that simple lyric to be a booty call. Pussy cat doll, my foot!!! It is a tragedy though, to the music industry, that the melody is damn catchy!! It is not amusing when you get caught singing the lyrics without you realizing you’re actually singing when your ears are stuffed with them earphones, and some guy with a big PAS turban happen to understand what you’re humming about. Hmm…maybe that is why they go around in that white jubah; to hide all possibility of erection from environmental stimulations, be it intentional or otherwise.

Now, listen to the lyrics of Nat King Cole’s “Nature Boy” and tell me they instill wisdom and love, (the kind of love where the actual head do the thinking). The main words that struck me right through the heart was, “The greatest thing, you’ll ever learn, is to love and be loved in return”.



I wish the modern lyricists would quit writing garbage mainly expressing how horny a person can feel within that 4 minutes of melody and start unraveling how is it that in this modern times, we can learn how to love and be loved in return.
I mean, I have absolutely no idea what love is anymore. On second thoughts, I do. But I don’t know how to find it, or should I just chill and let it find me…again? Can I be lucky the second time around? I’m dead sure I’m not alone in this.
In this modern life, relationship is complicated. Halt!! Let me rephrase that. Relationship is simple, but human have evolved into this complicated species, ergo complicates a simple matter such as a relationship. Then again, if we manage to complicate a grave thing like a religion, what’s complicating a relationship right? a piece of cake, no doubt.
(more on relationships, if you dare...., click below)

If anyone ever wonder why the rate of divorce had gone up since the days when Doris Day was prancing around in clothes that do not show off what her mama gave her, it’s because women have become more independent and refuse to tolerate men’s rubbish. Our mothers seem to have high tolerance rate for their men, which I think is kind of cool because women have accepted the fact that most men just grow old, but they hardly grow up, but women had since lowered their threshold of putting up with men’s nonsense, and they do not hesitate to exercise their women’s right hence the increase number of divorce cases we hear lately.

What nonsense you ask me? Some men and women mistook philandering as another adventure like back packing or traveling, but compared to men, women who are married are less likely to get involved in an extramarital affairs. We would rather imagine an extraterrestrial affair rather than an extramarital affair. Conscience no longer haunt the soul of people who took the vow in a contract called marriage, yet continue to live their lives as though they a singleton. When God encourages us to be active socially, He did not mean sexually active in society, I’m sure. But is divorce is such a taboo? Is divorce worst than say, staying miserable in a marriage? Having said that, I believe, a couple should exhaust all efforts to maintain and work things out, before they put up the white flag. After all, marriage is a vow, the decision to keep it solely ours to make. If we decide to keep a vow, we’ll do everything necessary we can to keep it, but I think if all else fails, including the sincere and tenacious effort to keep a marriage alive, perhaps divorce is a way out to staying insane.

Women have passed the age of depending solely on men. Love a man not because you need him. Need him because you love him. Since some women do not need men to be financially stable, why bother love him. That may explain women becoming choosy when it comes to tying the knot, all because she can afford to do so. After all, why bother buying a whole pig when all you need is a pound of sausage. Oh well, maybe 3 pounds. Can’t tell because sausages are evaluated by their circumference and length, the last time I checked.

As for men, they can afford to be choosy because there is 3:1 ratio of women to men today. So, instead of having to work out a marriage,on top of trying to handle the overrated mid life crisis, why bother to sweat when he can just settle for a younger meat, take a shortcut, and file for divorce. To make matters worse, current world population showed that women have outnumbered men. If you think things cannot go any more worst than that, men have decided that being cavemen is so not retro,and they’ve become confused with too many choices of women, some decided to just become gay. The ample women pool now have less men to tame, so they too, in the spirit of “if men can do it, so can we” (although no one brag about being able to pee straight from 3feet away from the source of urine) decided to become lesbians. I can grasp the concept of gay men, but what is there to rub in between two woman that is more satisfying than the conventional method? I’m just old fashion and a bigot, tell me to my face and I really could not care less.

I am old fashion when it comes to relationships. Although I personally use the Smart Tag on the road, on the contrary, I believe that “touch and go” should just be exercised on the toll, not in relationships. I don’t dig one-night stands just as I don’t dig Mawi. I’ve seen enough highly communicative people ending up in my clinic for treatment of equally highly communicable diseases. Trust me, once you experience warts in your love tool, you ain’t gonna feel that lovey dovey no more…

Where do all these life’s complication leaves us all? A little lonely I guess. Oh, even in marriage a person can still feel lonely, even though he/she is not alone in a physical sense of it. What can one say except, c’est la vie. Someone asked me why I’ve stopped dating. It’s been 9 years now since the death of my loving husband. Well, I did start dating again after 3 years of mourning for his death, but it has been one disappointment after another. If it’s not me being too good for someone, apparently I was told by them as a break up line, which for once they actually meant it,(I can’t act like a dumb blonde just to get laid can I?) or we both decided that we were better off as friends, or it’s that someone who is just an asshole. Most of the time, men gets intimidated by me. Well, I don't intend to not be myself just not to intimidate them - it kind of separates the boys from the men actually).

Either or, they all ended up with disappointments. So much so, that I’ve grown comfortable in being disappointed, I prefer not to go out on a date at all. I’ve reached my 40s and the best thing in life when a woman reaches her 40s, is that they already know what they want in life. As for me, I’ve already tasted true love. I won’t settle for less. I no longer see the need to put up with crap just so I can show the world that I have somebody in my life. A spouse is not like what a new handbag is to a woman, or a Harley Davidson is to a man with a midlife crisis. When you grow wiser, all you want is a companion and it doesn’t really have to be a person of the opposite sex, (and I do not mean this in a lesbian manner). After all, before you fell in love for the first time, your life alone before that had been happy too. Besides, everyone dies alone. If all else fails, well, there is always Prozac to help you get by those sleepless nights…(Prozac is the official companion for relationships – with or without )

I know this is rather a pessimistic and cynical view of love. Don’t be fooled by it. When true love comes, you will be left with no choice but to embrace it, trust me on this one. I’ve live and loved long enough to believe in serendipity and in destiny. That was how I met my hubby.

So for the women out there who are frantic upon being alone, well, don’t. Stop making excuses for men should they fail to call you back after that date. It’s not that they are too busy, or too confused or their fingers caught fire and could not touch that dial, it’s simply because they are not into you. No point pondering why, just carry on with life. Do not think a failed relationship is a waste of time, because it is in failure that you learn and become wiser. You are what you are today because of what you learn in life before this. Have faith and your wishes will flower. Someday somehow some way…true love will come knocking on your door…..and you’d be surprised that you are happy that there is no other door that have the word “EXIT” on it..

Ummmm......., I think someone ought to gently break to her the bad news..
MyHotComments.com

err..there is no such person as the perfect man/woman...it's the perfect for each other we should be looking for...

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Thursday, July 2, 2009

Tribute To MJ - Best Dance Performances

Despite the controversy surrounding Michael Jackson, here is how most of us would like to remember him.......We Love You Michael...


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Wednesday, July 1, 2009

We are Ordinary People

In a course of my job,many a times I've come across questions that made me answer for the heck of answering, yet manage to keep me awake some nights, actually pondering over it. One of the frequently asked question is "How do we make it in a relationship? What is the secret to it's longevity? Wait, that is two question. Oh well, perhaps they are redundant, but you get my point.

I've been in quite a few relationships, yet, no, I have no idea why things turn out well, or why they turn and headed through the door. I would however, have an idea of what makes me want to stay and play, and what makes me flee. Well, if you've been in enough relationships and manage to savor the last piece of your heart from crushing, even if you don't know what you are looking for in a partner, you sure as hell know what you don't!!

Then along came John Legend. When I heard his song, Ordinary People, it finally dawned to me...

Have a listen, if not browse through the lyrics below the video. Yea..yea..so I'm a control freak....sue me..

In a way, he answered some of my questions, if not all. Perhaps he will answer yours.
Maybe when someone ask me the question again, I'll just pass them this song in a CD and tell them, "Go figure....."



"Ordinary People"

[Verse 1]

Girl I'm in love with you
This ain't the honeymoon
Past the infatuation phase
Right in the thick of love
At times we get sick of love
It seems like we argue everyday

I know i misbehaved
And you made your mistakes
And we both still got room left to grow
And though love sometimes hurts
I still put you first
And we'll make this thing work
But I think we should take it slow

We're just ordinary people
We don't know which way to go
Cuz we're ordinary people
Maybe we should take it slow (Take it slow oh oh ohh)
This time we'll take it slow (Take it slow oh oh ohh)
This time we'll take it slow

This ain't a movie no
No fairy tale conclusion ya'll
It gets more confusing everyday
Sometimes it's heaven sent
Then we head back to hell again
We kiss then we make up on the way

I hang up you call
We rise and we fall
And we feel like just walking away
As our love advances
We take second chances
Though it's not a fantasy
I Still want you to stay

Maybe we'll live and learn
Maybe we'll crash and burn
Maybe you'll stay, maybe you'll leave,
maybe you'll return
Maybe another fight
Maybe we won't survive
But maybe we'll grow
We never know baby you and I

We are ordinary people
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Tuesday, June 30, 2009

The Last Rehearsal

Still look good to me...gone too fast...just too fast...


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Monday, June 22, 2009

Here's some good news for older women...well it's about time!!

I was sitting quietly in the library the other day browsing through magazines I love reading but don't bother to buy (well, that's the whole idea of going to the library right?) when my tired eyes caught sight of this little article. Go ahead and click on the image and have a good read.



Well, well, well..If only Woody Allen had known this before he left Mia Farrow for their adopted teenage kid...All his brilliance won't be passed down to his child from that, what should I call that ungrateful adopted child of theirs? Can't call her a bitch, because both adopted parents are from the homosapien species.

Come to think of it, it kind of explained why this world is full of morons, characters who think they are smart...Apparently,this is what happens to kids born from older fathers (presumably left their Starter Wives for a better life. One word - "Karma"). Oh but I don't mind having a below average intelligence child if George Clooney fathers them. Besides, I'm...errr...not young, so I'll kaotim the dumb effect of his defected sperm producing love tool, so perhaps we'll get average intelligence kids. That'll work. Of course I've got to do it before 45 so as not to end the argument of who's smart genes won when we are reminded with a simple fact that mothers above 45 have higher risk of producing Down Syndrome kids. ( I said higher risk, don't panic. My grandauntie gave birth to my now, auntie, at the age of 49. The only dumb thing about the whole thing is that we can't bully her since she's higher by hierarchy) No, I will never make fun of these precious kids, the Down Syndrome. I will however make fun of the normal people who choose to behave like they have the same kind of genes as these special kids...so who doesn't make fun of most of them sitting in parliament anyway.

God...Imagine if Hugh Hefner decided to have one kid each from his Miss January till Miss December Pin Up gals!!! Imagine if there are more than one Hugh Hefner character!! Democracy can be really a dangerous choice for a country full of under average intelligence beings....I chucked aloud at that though, the librarian gave me that look as though she was about to throw me out but knows she can't.

Basically, the take home message would be;

1. Don't mess with Karma

2. Older men should stop having fantasies of having kids from younger women with mind boggling boobs that do not compliment with their messed up sperm producing genes, instead settle for older women who can counter those effects, should they decide to have above average intelligence kids. Alas! Like I said before..the world is full of morons and schizophrenics, we just found out one other reason why and I don't think it will ever change that soon. Hmm...I wonder what age the late Tun Abdul Razak had Najib.....

3. A new IQ testing method should be derived simply by coming up with an equation that comprises of the ages of both parents.

4. An atheist, upon reading this article may have this take home message; "There is a God after all"................
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