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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, August 21, 2010

Funny girl

Funny
Did you hear that?
Funny
Yeah, the guy said
"honey, you're a funny girl."
That's me
I just keep them in stitches
Doubled in half,
And though i may be all wrong for a guy,
I'm good for a laugh,
I guess it's not funny,
Life is far from sunny,
When the laugh is over
And the joke's on you,
A girl oughta have a sense of humor
That's one thing you really need for sure
When you're a funny girl
The fella said "a funny girl"
Funny
How it ain't so funny,
Funny girl



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Sunday, August 1, 2010

Some things that makes you go hmmmm....

I was singing away to Jamie Cullum's song whilst trying to restore the color of my car simply by washing it, (I too, sometimes forget that it's not gray color...but red when it's washed), when my eyes were suddenly feasted upon another pair, that seemed to be observing me. He looked like he was having some kind of deep thought, head tilted to one side but not drooling simultaneously. His eyes were full of queries, bewildered, as though I was the ultimate mystery and he the Sherlock Holmes. In Hollywood, I would have love to think that this scene was one from a Romantic Comedy blockbuster, and those pair of eyes boring into me belonged to Clooney. Unfortunately, this is real life and in real life, romance don't really exist. I guess that is why romantic movies gets the thumbs up because if it is common, then it won't be anything special to watch.

Anyway, those pair of watchful innocent eyes belong to my neighbour's son, around maybe 9 to 10 year old. After wondering for about 2 minutes, as to why I was a mystery to him, I realized that it could not have been because I look like a mummy, I mean the actual Egyptian mummy, as I don't even look like someone's mommy and I did comb my hair that morning. Then it dawned to me. He was curious as to why a woman was washing the car. I guess he's not used to seeing a woman doing a man's chores.

My neighbour, that particular one, are one of those people who think embracing Islam is converting into Arabs. They certainly dress like Arabs, but well, at least the wife is not clad in one of those "can see a pair of eyes only" hijab. About that attire, I was told that women wear those so that men won't get steamed up looking at them. Have it occurred to anyone that maybe the reason for them to wear that, is for the women to curtail steam from being visibly seen evaporating from them as a result of looking at the men? Just a thought.


Anyway, I have nothing but neighbourly respect and amiability shown towards them whenever we bump into each other, although the husband, who was friendly to me, up until he learned that I'm a widow, tries his best to "lower his gaze" after the revelation. Actually it's fine by me, because it's less one person to have to crack a smile to when I don't feel like smiling. And I thought that "Though shalt not covert thou neighbour's wife" was merely an urban legend....


I guess it's the culture. When you're a widow, you are a WMD to any marriages apparently, well to the insecure ones I guess, not that that is my problem. I don't blame the insecure wives either, but I wish people should not stereotype people. If I'm a home wrecker like Angelina Jolie, which I'm not since I don't look anything like her, (albeit I am capable of acting a femme fatale, if I want to), I would have been re-married a long time ago. Can't help it if I don't look depressed, worn out, dressing down for the occasion or however it is a widow is suppose to look like. I do what I like anyway. I don't try to fit into society, I make society fit into me :-D

My principal is simple. If you don't like looking at me clad in skimpy attire, and that you're too "righteous" and all, then stop looking. Look away from something that can dissolve your marriage, just like how a cross can dissolve one's iman according to some of our Muftis. I think the Muftis today are bored of looking for the anak bulan and never being able to locate it, like ....ever....so they are now indulging in becoming comedians instead. Can you blame them? You think it's not boring just sitting around polishing the Mohor Besar Raja Raja, and only get to use them 2 times in a year to deliver the Muslims the same sad news of not being able to sight the anak bulan? Oh but I digress.


Speaking of culture, I remember once when I was caught kissing my late husband just outside the house. Well, it was very early, how was I to know that there were people up and about at that wee hour of the morning, let alone kids. My late hubby was in the car and was about to pull off the driveway when I ran out to hand him his wallet, that he had left on the dining table. So he pulled me through the side window and gave me a kiss, enough to say that it was a little bit too French than intended. As I withdrew my face from the window, and turned around to head back into the house, I saw this two of my neighbour's kids just frozen in their steps, eyes wide, pupils dilated and mouths agap. Poor souls, we must have shocked them to their very cores with what they saw. I gave them my Julia Roberts smile and winked at them, turned around to throw a glance at my hubby just in time to catch him smiling at me. I wonder today, what impact we may have posed on those kids. I hope it is a positive one. I hope they learn that it is okay to show love in a form of physical touch.

I guess we Asians are a bit introverted when it comes to demonstrating our feelings in a form of physical gestures to one another. I can relate to that, because I was one of those people. That changed when I married my hubby. He was a Punjabi. And it was a bit of a cultural shock that everyone seem to be hugging each other tight and kissing each other on the face. I remember the first time when I met my parents in law. I bowed over to kiss their hands, a Malay culture to show respect for the elderly, and in return, they hugged me tight and kissed me. I remember wondering if I'd be crushed to death by my mom in law, with good intentions. She's kind of obese and I was 42kg, so I think you can just imagine how the scene would look like. But it gave me this unfamiliar warm and fuzzy feeling inside....

Back to the boy, that look he gave me was priceless. It was total honesty, that only a child can reflect in his eyes. This is the point where it all begins. This is where children are restricted in their minds as to what defines the role of a woman and a man. Seldom boys are taught to cook in the kitchen because "it's a woman's job" to do so. Girls are not allowed to do manly chores because it's "unlady like".


Question. Why do we restrict our kids from doing everything so that they will grow up to be self sufficient being? Some men marry women simply because they need a home maker to run things domestically, so that they would come home to a organized household. Most Malay girls are taught that, as long as they keep their duty as a wife (that includes running the household single-handedly, feed the husband, feed the kids and "feed" the husbands at night), then it is okay for them to go out there to work for the money. I never understood that really . Women expect the same from men, for them to perform their manly duties.

Why not husband cook for a change (god nothing is ever so sexy than a man cooking for his woman), and women wash their cars? Think about it. Is that so bad?

Why do we keep doing dumb things or not doing good things, insisting it's "preserving the culture"? Why can't we just all become eclectic ? Think about it...
Click here if you have the passion and patience to read more!!...

Thursday, July 29, 2010

I look to you...

Notice how some songs, enabled by a calming ambiance, have this magnetic pull, dragging us back into the creases of our minds, to a certain time, a certain moment perhaps? And that is why I don't listen to mushy songs when I'm on the way to work. Apart from making me drive like a ermm...pussy, I tend to get all mushy and in sentimental mode by the time I reach my work place. Oh, those malingerers would really love to see that happening don't they?

That song, Neyo "So sick of Love Song" is suddenly humming in my brains now.. ..I guess it kind of work both ways....certain sentences or instances makes you recall certain songs. I use to sing some phrases in between them talking, sometimes, only to certain friends of course, driving them up the wall ....we can't deny that most of the songs playing on the radio is about love...no wait...actually nowadays it's more about sex...don't let me start on that one....suffice to say that producers now are competing to put in as much sex as they can in 4 minutes. ... Pff...talk about musical Quickies. (ah yes...Madonna/Timberlake's "4 minutes" is playing in my head now)

Oh, let me just share it with you, just to digress...



I grew up listening to Whitney Houston, amongst many. She was at the height of her popularity when she committed the biggest career suicide of all. She married Bobby Brown, and no, I don't really listen to Brown's songs not because he's brown, but I don't really fancy his songs. I much preferred Loudness to him. And her journey have been downhill from that point onwards. Actually it was Jill who fell down and both Jack and Jill came tumbling down together...unfortunately, this video have not been created yet..

We've all been there before, right? Same old story. Girl meets boy. Some heartache eventually happen at some point of the relationship. We break up , part, go our separate ways ... and we start listening to songs like this;


Craig David - Walking Away

eric | MySpace Video



And some bastards we broke off with, deserve this song; (or sometimes we happen to deserve this dedication)



But being human, we tend to repeat the cycle of love, unless we have been hurt more than necessary. It's the masochism in us i suppose. It's like, once we've tasted the taste of love, we keep going back for more otherwise there will be this constant nagging craving in our hearts no matter how much we try to deny it. Injured big time, we retreat for a moment until our hearts are healed then we move on, to the next cycle....or maybe not...who's to tell when it comes to love...and we are not talking about love for our employers here folks... we only love them during end of the month and end of the year...(ain't got nothin' but love baybe..... Whitney's song playing...my head is a walking Ipod really)

But we gather experience as we go along. I guess it's true what they say, that it's better to love and get hurt, rather than never to experience love at all. It's a bit irritating that one has to experience series of almost endless crappy "love" just to get to the worthy one, which sadly, isn't many. (and that is why they make that song, "Endless Love" and not "Endless crappy love" because no one wants to hear about something they live up to, instead, prefer something they can fantasize with)... I suppose it's God's way of making us value the worth of that rare true love. Then again, as we gain experience, we too change as an individual and the game of love changes too. Frankly, I think it's just hormone compatibility for the bigger purpose of life - procreation...God is laughing up there...

You do realize that I don't know what the fish I'm ranting about right? But if you find any console or even truth in what I'm verbal diarrhiating, then by all means, please resume reading and I hope you learn something from this destructive piece of literature I'm writing. I'd like to think as myself as contributing to the world with my crappy writings.

Amongst many songs, this song to me carries a deep meaning, not just for me, but I can bet my bottom dollar to many men and women out there. Please listen to it's lyrics..it's powerful. Oh, don't forget to close your eyes while listening...(obviously not while you're driving)




If there's anybody who could feel the song as much as any one of us, women and men, it would be Whitney. She's the epic Hollywood story of a superstar, who fell in love with the just the wrong guy, and by God, did they not went to the dumpster with that...

This song however, to me, is about something many a times you and I have overlooked, love for ourselves. I've been down in an abyss of sadness. Turned out, there is no such thing as an abyss in life as I realized when I fell with a thud onto the bottom of a pit of which I thought was an abyss. Fell hard, injured myself pretty bad, I had to stay stagnant there for a while to accommodate healing. Then in the midst of sadness, as I realized more sadness is not going to make any difference, I looked up, instead of being angry at God (well, temporary insanity due to depression), I saw the light. No, not the one that people see just before they allegedly die.. I realized, that, if I'm at the bottom of the pit, there is nowhere else to go, but up from that point on.

When the tears that constantly filled my eyes cleared, I finally saw a clear view from where I stood. The only way I was ever going to get out of the pit, is for me to get up and get out of that pit. There was no hero in some embarrassingly tight at the wrong anatomical parts suit came to rescue me. The hero was within me. And so, picked myself up I did, and as I dusted away self pity, I found strength from within this small body and gathered courage to crawl out of the foetid sinkhole. Looking back, I did not know my own strength. And now I do. And if I can sing as excellent as Whitney, it would be me singing that song today.....well, the Chip Monk version of it anyway. I guess God did punish me after all...for that nagging I do on daily basis. Imagine if I have a loud voice...hmm..


And last but definitely the least, this is a kind of "gospel" , my prayers to my Creator. I usually talk to Him almost all the time, and that is why I know God is mighty loving, because he has not sent a lightning to strike me with all my nagging, whining, rantings, anger, admiration to him....well..yet.

And sometimes,when I'm doing a 60km/hour on the left lane winding down in my car, I sing to Him...



I realized time and time again, I need to remember to love myself more, and that the only real relationship I'm ever going to have is with god, err...not in a nun sense of it though...
Click here if you have the passion and patience to read more!!...

Saturday, July 24, 2010

Dating for Dummies?

If there is any book any singleton of 40 and above, yours truly, included, need to read right now, it would probably be "Dating for Dummies", or perhaps "Dating for Dummies : Reloaded"?. I may be one of those blessed without the need for a book titled, "Sex for Dummies"..( I said "for" not "with" folks....pay attention puhleeezzzz), albeit recent discoveries regarding Anwar's alleged backstreet boy Saifoool's alleged involvement with case prosecutor and some kind of Hello Pussy....I mean...Hello Kitty strap makes me doubt my capabilities, I definitely need the former book.

Yes, don't tell me, I know. "Dating for Dummies" is already out on the market and it's one of the top ten best sellers, (the dummies list) yes. Well, I guess people like me are the people who gives people like the author good income and judging by the fact that it's one of the top ten best seller, I guess I fall into the statistics of dummies who have forgotten how to date. It's not like I date bicycles, whereby you ride it once you will always remember how to erm...ride it.

One man's ignorance is another man's income huh?

But wait a minute. I think I'm in a more chronic state than this. I'm probably going to need a pre-sequel, "How to get a Date for Dummies". Oh wait, maybe "Recognizing a Date Offer for Dummies". How humiliating is that!!! But you know what is consoling? I know for a fact that there are many men and women out there have passed the big 40, re-single or just a chronic singleton, who share the same problem as me, if at all it should be considered a problem, since at this age, dating is optional.

Coming back to the more popularly needed book, this is why I think more people above 40 need the "How to get a Date For Dummies" book more than we do the former, especially if you are a woman.

Why do I say that? Well, perhaps because;

1. The book is written by western standards, and we're living in Malaysia. It's probably our tosey and our teh tarik that makes us more confused about dating. For Muslims, dating is further made complicated with the existence of Malaysian Inquisition which is worst than Spanish Inquisition...at least the Spanish won the World Cup although Malaysians would have won the Bookie of the Year Cup if they gave us the chance. Dating with 2 people is traumatizing enough for some of us, imagine if there are 8 extra pairs of eyes watching your every move. What they do with their free hands while watching is something that may boggle our minds.

2. In Malaysia, a few men, but especially women above 40 have problems finding dates. One because of she finds dating revolting, obviously from past unsuccessful experience. Two, it's because there are not many men out there. In case you haven't notice, the ratio of men: women would easily be 3:1 today. That simply means, 3 women to one man. I blame "The Secret" for this because while we women were busy shopping for bags and shoes, and wishing for more of those, men just sat there and wished for more women at one time happening in their lives. For those who have read "The Secret" there's no excuse for you not to get this dumb joke. On top of the sad ratio for women, the little amount of men left have suddenly discovered that they are gay. I mean, I have nothing against gay men, but , can't they be gay in some other century when there are many men around to be gay with? How selfish can men be?!!

3. Let's face it. Men are shallow creatures. And it's not even their fault that they are. After all, women are blessed with only one head, and we need not share the blood supply with accessory head like men. For this reason too, dating older single men are tougher because as they grow old, their brains have no choice but to grow with them hence sucking the blood supply back up leaving the lesser blood supply ruling the other head. It was easier all that blood was down there, because they become more enthusiastic about women in general.

Most men, divorced or widowed, would prefer to date younger women. It's not their fault that they don't find us "innocent" , "mysterious " ergo more "giggly". After all, once they've heard a woman nag, how different can that be...it's just blah...blah..blah (men have developed a sophisticated technique to selective hearing after some time and they have us to thank for it).......the mystery is dead from that point onwards. .and women in turn, if we've been with a man at least once, I mean, really, how different can a snore and a fart plus a snore sound like? In this scenario, very elderly couples who have sinus and hearing problems would have a more harmonious life together, since they can't hear nor smell each others' farts, less one thing to fight about.

And it's not our fault that we need a certain amount of blood level alcohol (or halal tapai for Muslims) to find some men's recycled jokes funny. It's also not our fault that we need KY jelly on top of the other "home improvement enhancement" purchases.

Yes, of course there are women who date younger men, (usually muscular ones.....to make up for the lack of 'muscle that actually counts' perhaps), but really, not every women like Demi Moore, able to afford the next 50 plastic surgeries. Suddenly Samantha's quote from Sex and The City, regarding dating young men came to mind:

"These young men, I don't know whether to blow them, or to burp them"


4. Men, especially Malay men are downright greedy. How many do you think are matured enough to divorce their first wife before they embark into a new relationship? For non Malays, the problem would be the cost of divorce. It's cheaper to live in a miserable lie called marriage than to go through a divorce. Malay men are of course the champion. They can live in up to maximum of 4 lies, and use Allah's name to justify their actions. Then again, some Malay woman would rather be miserable in a failed marriage, rather than become a "Janda" and a society's mockery. Even if they are true to themselves, some Malay men have problems letting go..(actually the problem is selfishness from an immature brain). Hence, there are not many circulating recycable re-singleton out there who can begin their life in search of true love and happiness in all honesty.

5. If you think being a singleton above 40 living in Malaysia and getting a decent date is tough, try being a single parent. You have to think of the safety of your kids that automatically supersedes your potential happiness of having a normal dating life. And bare in mind, not many people out there are as willing to accept a single parents' "baggage"...obviously these are shallow people who have no love for children. If you're one of them who do not have the ardent desire to have children,( which I think everyone's entitled to not comply to society's general needs, we are after all not created on earth just solely for the purpose of propagating forth,although many would dispute this remark) then I suppose this won't be a problem.

I think, the reason why people get so screwed up in their relationship is because they do not understand the basic rule to a relationship. We spend more time looking for romance or relationship that will hopefully end up in a marriage, that we have forgotten to look for companionship in our spouse. Most of the time, we are unable to differentiate between love, lust and infatuation. Some of us are lucky enough to find true love. The rest had to settle with falling in love with love. Then comes the next level. Marriage. Some are lucky enough to have found true love that ends up with a marriage. Most of us have to settle for marriage that is a false sense of security. Some gets married because they need to keep up with their scheduled plans in life. Some get married for the heck of it. The smart ones are the ones who refuse to succumb to society's pressure to committing the same stupidity they have committed and yet these are the people who are mocked to the bones. (if ever there are such expression of course)


My usual advice to my guy friends who ironically seek my advice on relationship (goodness gracious me...they don't have a single clue what they're getting themselves into!!) would be, "if you're looking for a soul mate, stop looking at her boobs and start looking at into her soul". For girlfriend who seek for my CON-sultation, I say to them, "if you're looking for a soul mate, stop looking at his cheque book, start looking into his soul".

Dating would be easy if love didn't get in the way though. L..O..V..E..four letter words that can really complicate a relationship. Because love makes us have expectations out of a relationship. Love makes us do stupid stuff that injures our self pride not to mention our ego. And the best part is, love demands a lot despite being something no one can even define. Don't ask me about love. I think I have forgotten how love feels like, I need tutoring. Let's not talk about love. Let's just talk about dating. We'll talk about love if ever we survive dating. But is love all that worth it? Last I remembered, hell ya!!

I remember during my younger days, dating was simply fun. But I recall that there were some who were serial daters, dating recklessly as though they are going for the Guinness World Book of Records. These must have read the wrong book, titled, "Dating for Dumbasses).

At this point in my writing, I would be amazed if you are still with me, because, frankly, I don't know where this article is going and I do apologize for the wild goose chase...

I'm sure for those singletons out there, who are just sick of dating like me, gets really apprehensive when someone you actually like ask you out on a date. It's like you're damn if you don't and damn if you do. Somehow rather, common sense and a not so impressive IQ would tell us that "damn if you don't " kind of like more damning than "damn if you do" right? Well, actually, that depends on how badly you got hurt in the last relationship and if you have had a good closure. If one is not ready, then "damn if you do" sounds like a reasonable protective choice for one's heart, for the survival of one's sanity and happiness.

But if one decides that "damn if you don't " is more damning, then comes the dejavu...."oh, what if ...what if..what if...." then the reopening of the Pandora Box...the Ex-Files comes next, all ricocheting through your mind while you're getting ready to go out on that potentially damning date. If that cannot cause impotence for both females and males, I don't know what else can...oh wait, i do..a date with Samy Velu or Rosmah...

And all this is happening BEFORE you go out on the actual date, if assuming after all that tiring thinking, we actually decide not to cancel the whole event. What you're suppose to do on a date is another topic altogether.

There are no rules to dating, although according to the book ( I read the synopsis, enough to know that unless my date is totally worth it, I'd opt for "damn if I do"), there are. Great, now we've got to read up just to go for date....as though all that lifetime studying that got us smart and into trouble in the first place is not enough. But through my experience, it's best to go as yourself. If the person do not like you, what makes you think he's going to like you after dating you a couple of times more and after we've run out of dating tactics.

On personal note, I wouldn't want to end up with a guy whom I need to play tricks on just to get him to like me. If he does not have the mental capacity of deduction and the tenacity to unveil the mystery of me, not to mention the guts to risk his ego for me, then I guess he's not that into me and I do not want to settle for anything less. That's what happens when someone found true earth shattering, I-can't live without you, heart pumping, mental bedazzling love. We don't settle for less. Kind of like the domestic cat who won't want to chase after the rats, when they've tasted the delicious Friskeys. It's a all or non law for us. And equally important is that I have the same effect on him. Otherwise, I don't want to be something he "just settles" for.

A partner who wants you for any other reason other than yourself, is not worth all that torment love may put you through from that point onwards. Somewhere down the line, something's got to give and no matter how smart you play the game of dating, it's going to end you up in a farce relationship that has no strong foundation to it. Simple rule. If he can't read through me, and I can't read through him, maybe we are just not meant to be together. Basil and tomatoes, unless they are rotten will make a delicious pair no matter how they are cooked. If he doesn't know what he wants, unless you are willing to become his guinea pig in the experiment called love, then move on gurrrl....nothing there for you.

Don't you just miss the good old days when dating seem to be the most natural thing besides picking our own noses and we actually look forward to it without premonition to the doom that lies after that? Those were the days when you have all the energy to throw caution into the air and put up with all the challenge romance, love and relationship throw at you. Nowadays, just thinking about dating makes me jaded. Maybe because luck bailed out and just dating for the heck of it is more of a mental and emotional drain than just fun?

Ah, alas! Wisdom was coursing through the veins of Oscar Wilde when he proclaimed, "Thinking kills Romance". Well folks, maybe we should just stop thinking too much and just go out there and date....errr....with calculated risk and by calculated risk I propose we stay away from people's husbands/wives/spouse/partner/some other gay or lesbian's partner, especially Rosmah's. We all know how THAT'S going to end...Trial and error perhaps?

Well folks, if all else fails, well, there's "Dating for Dummies".

P.S this post was written in a jest, kind of an uncut/unplug version. I won't take it seriously if I were you ;->

I leave you with my super favourite song .....sang by my super favourite singer, John Legend...enjoy :-D

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MIpkE2lYmFs&feature=related


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

Monday, June 7, 2010

Not While I'm Around...

I remember his 70ish birthday (well, past 40 everyone just don't bother counting any more). I gave him a card attached to his birthday gift. I wrote in the card,
" Men may come and men may go, but you will forever remain the man in my life"
Men of few words, he did not know how to react, I can see that it was so obvious. But when there were lack of words, his expression made up for it. What I saw was priceless.

He would be the one who will come for me when I'm in need. There is no time barrier when it comes to me. I'd get my tyre punctured and he'd drop everything and come to my rescue. So I had to learn how to change my own tyres, just so that I won't become a burden to the old man.
He would be the one standing behind watching over me even without me realizing it. Perhaps the reason why I feel so emotionally stable, no matter how bad things can go wrong, only because I know he will be there for me. Never once, even when I hurt him in some occasion that he turn his back on me. That alone is a soothing thought.

I remember when I was a teenager, I came home grumbling about some punk disturbing me on the road. I haven't even finish my sentence when I saw him heading towards his parang while asking, "Where is he?". I panicked because I thought we all do not need the scene as I could handle the situation quite well. I just needed to grumble to release my irritation by ranting, that's what we women do. We just need to have someone listen to our rantings, not so much of wanting a solution. Oh, by the way, didn't I handle the son of a bitch who thought he could get away with being fresh with me...but that is another story. Whatever he had done, I didn't think that he deserved to get chopped into pieces...which I know my dad will never in a million years hurt a single soul. He never laid his hands on us. It's the threatening that gets the job done actually. It definitely worked with his teenagers, why wouldn't it work with other peoples' teenagers.

Even today, I'd come back surprised by a repaired kitchen sink, or newly fixed rack I've wanted to put up but never seem to find the time to, or even find my bulbs changed. It's like having a handy man only more sincere in his work...actually, it's more like having a personal guardian angel....


He's educated but do not abuse his intelligence by insulting others'. I remember coming home to numerous hampers nearing the Hari Raya, only to find out that we were not to even so much as touch them because they were to be returned as soon as possible. I still recall the frustration we felt and I could have sworn the utilization of a transparent material for wrapping was done on purpose. It would have been less painful not to see what it was that we could have possessed or eaten rather than to have a peek only to leave our imagination unsatisfied.

He doesn't know how to suck up to his superior so he got to his post simply by hard work. He loathe asking others for professional favors. He hated interviewing people for a job because he hated turning them down. I remember he would not eat or sleep properly at one point, and we even heard the nightmares. He did it only once and refused the job after that. He came from a poor family. His father was a KTM laborer and he had 13 siblings, 1 died at an early age, and two more died giving birth. He would never fail to remind us in his own ways, the importance of staying grounded and humble.

I remember hating asking him for things I want, not what I need, at times. For a mere something that cost say RM5, I will have to justify my wanting. Otherwise, the story that came out of his mouth just to earn the something, were never happy ones.

For instance, I once wanted a new color pencil simply because I wanted a new one..hey I was a kid...,. My old ones were 3/4 used but there were the merely used ones and I thought I'd have a new set altogether, simply because I know my dad can afford it. He started telling me his childhood story, how he used to walked about 10 miles through the jungle to town. He would quietly sneak to take a peek into the dustbins of each of the houses belonging to the, well, relatively well to do, to find any remnants of usable color pencils, pencils, rubbers etc, to collect and use himself at school.


I remember that I would cry while he narrated me the sad story and my desire for something new just died there and then. Odd enough, he was not consistent with his actions. A few weeks later, he would take me to the shop to get a new color pencil. I was happy naturally. One for getting a new color pencil and two, much much later in life, I am happy that in his sadistic ways, he taught me the difference between needs and wants. I still go shopping for things I don't need occasionally, mainly to celebrate something. I know it's okay if I can afford it, but sometimes things can go out of hand, especially when credit card in in the hands...oh, but I do feel a pinch of guilt at times...that's improvement no?

I blame him for my difficulty in finding a decent spouse. Subconsciously, I tend to measure any guy I would want as my partner to him. Later, I found out, I stand a better chance if I lower my standards down by a quarter. Oh well, a gal need some TLC and no other man will ever love you as much as your own father. Same goes to mothers, although some mothers have problems of letting go, ergo contribute one of the leading causes of modern time divorce.

I love my parents. Well, the love did not grow overnight, or rather, was not realized overnight. I use to not really like them when I was a teenager. Then again, that was me, not them. The older I get, the more I understand why it was me, and not them. I began thanking God and them for being hard on me. I think, all children will grow up to be masochists...they will thank their parents for making their teenage lives miserable.


A disturbing thought would be loosing them at one point of my life. I know, that even though my mind tells me it's natural, my heart will never be ready for that moment...I learn one thing when my husband passed away. That we need to love that person when they are alive, not take for granted that they know you love them. But that is another story.


I always console my patients when they loose their parents. I will tell them that we will loose our parents ultimately. But how we treat them before they leave matters a lot, because parting knowing that they are loved, not just in words, but in deeds, is indeed the loveliest way to say goodbye.


Being a single parent, I can now relate to how my father felt about me. After all, I'm the father and the mother to my daughter...If there is any song for my dad to dedicate to me, even if he never says it, being a man of few words, at least he made me feel it; or for me to dedicate to my parents and my daughter, it will be this one ...there are many versions to this song, but I love the way Jamie Cullum sang it....enjoy the video...






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Friday, April 9, 2010

Happy Birthday to Me :)

I've just celebrated my birthday. Yes. Another one. How old am I? Well, just let me put it to you this way. I dare not put exact amount of candles representing my age on my birthday cake, because I wouldn't want to trigger the smoke alarm when I blow all of them out, of course if I manage to do that without running out of breath.

When a woman passes the four zero, there are incidences that happens to her body that she cannot be sure of. For instance, if someone compliments, "You look hot tonight", or if she bumps into a cute guy, she will not be able to make out whether she's blushing and palpitating in response to the compliment and the man, or whether she is just experiencing peri menopausal symptoms.

I'm suppose to feel sorry for myself yaddaaa yaddaa, I feel indifferent. My problem is that I don't feel I'm aging, until someone reminds me that I am. Come to think of it, if given a chance to go back to being young again, I'll politely decline. I kinda like myself now. Not that I don't like myself yesterday. It's like, I kinda have gotten my head together, even at the expense of the body falling apart...okay, everyone's heard of that one, but it's true. I like having my head together. Don't you?

I was told from young to include longevity of life as part of my prayers. I never really did bother praying for that. I figured, since God is All Knowing, He probably would have given me the perfect exit time, after I've played my role in this world. Who am I to decide when I should go. After all, it's not about longevity, but about having a good meaningful life. What is the point of living all the way to 100 years when you lead a meaningless life?

Is my life meaningful? Yes, and it will become more meaningful in the near future. It's a working progress.

So here's to me...Happy Birthday "me"....I love "me" :)
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Saturday, March 13, 2010

Getting Lost

If ever you want to get lost driving in Malaysia, try this; make sure your car has full tank fuel and your smart tag has ample balance in it. Then you take a drive to a predetermined destination, and make sure you follow the sign boards. I have this conspiracy theory regarding the Malaysian sign board system. They have covet agreement with the toll system to ensure that the road users get confused just by following the signboards and when we get lost, somehow the signboards will inevitably guide us towards yet another toll. You have to try getting lost in KL to appreciate this theory.

But you know what is the good thing that comes from getting lost? Well, if you can hold your temper and accept the fact that you’re stranded in some place where most people have not heard of what an armpit deodorant is, sometimes, you may discover something new and interesting. Women may find a wholesale store that sells the exact same material at quarter of the price they get when the same thing is sold at a high end store. With women, most of the time, shopping would be the phenomena that will revert a tragedy into a blessing with or without the disguise..With men, well, probably they will discover some massage pallor that have real women with the Midas touch working. What better place to get a massage than a place where the Mrs won’t even bother going.

Or if you’re someone who comes from a struggling background, then maybe getting lost might find you in some posh area where two outcomes are possible. You may feel suicidal because life seem to be offering more for these rich people, or you may come out from that area feeling nothing but deep gratitude towards God for keeping it real for you, and you feel pity for those who have worldly material in a package of delusion called “achievements”.

You see, interpretation of success differs, depending on who sets the definition. It’s a relative thing. For example, when some people say “they have trouble with sleep” it means they need sedatives to help them go to sleep. While people like me, who like to keep life simple and real by redefining life’s expectations and definitions, my interpretation of “I have trouble with sleep” means I have trouble getting out of the sleeping state. Or another example would be when someone says, “I’m homesick” they mean they miss home, when I say “I’m homesick” what I meant is “I’m sick of home” (I see my parents too frequently sometimes there are moments, in absence of sanity that I forget why I love them). See, these things are relative and subjective.

Or perhaps you may come out of getting lost with mixed feelings of the aforementioned.

In life, shit happens. Just like you get lost on the roads, humans tend to get lost in life. Sometimes I think that the only time humans possessed true freedom was when we were in our mothers womb, happily floating in our own urine, (what did you think that amniotic fluid is all about eh?) in our most natural forms without the constraint of clothing nor society’s expectations. Happily sucking our thumbs and float away to our hearts content. Why do you think babies cry when they come out into the real world? They get slapped on their bottoms if they don’t. Being in a state of content with being reticent is not acceptable. Yes, the moment we come out of that safe haven of mommy’s warm and comfy womb, we were already graded by Apgar score standard, talk about keeping up with life’s expectations !!

Back to life, it is safe to avow that shit happens at least once in one’s life. Otherwise, I don’t think it’s called “living”. Yes, indeed shit happens. Things sometimes take a turn down the Mexican way, (or should I substitute that to the Malaysian way? We seem to be speeding down that lane), or sometimes things end. I’m surprised that people get surprise when life demands changes. Are we not part of the universe where the rule is constantly changing forms?
(Click on to loose your way)

Yes, things change. The only rule to determine survival is to adapt to the changes. How we handle changes in our lives is the key to staying significant. Life constantly tests us and sometimes, we end up lost, side tracked or even diverted from our destination.

I’ve been lost a couple of times myself. After the death of my beloved husband, I was kind of lost mostly in self pity more than actual misery. It’s not easy having to pick up the broken pieces of what could have been. I’m sure people who goes through divorces feel the same. You spend all that time building a highway towards a certain destination, then suddenly the earthquake struck and everything fell into shambles. It’s out of your control and you feel more lost underneath all that ruin. You begin to wonder, where to start picking up the debris.

If ever there’s a song in dire need to be written, it will be the song dedicated to all the single parents out there. People grumble about how hard it is to become parents, imagine how much more difficult it would be to carry two jobs of parenting, on one shoulder. Whilst the physical and mental aspect of single parenting is tough, I think most single parents find the emotional bagage the most toughest to handle.

I remember my kid’s first day at school. I remember watching her walk up to join the assembly, her oversized school bag overshadowing her little scrawny figure clad in the school uniform, one size bigger . I barely realised that I was whispering softly to my deceased hubby, “Look at her go jaan, she’s so brave, if only you could see her now”...Or there was that joyous moment when she scored in her major exams, my chest felt like it was going to explode with joy and at the same time I felt like I was choking with sadness that I could not share it with that special someone. I’m sure most of you have been there with me, caught in such moments. I call it the kodak meets prozac moments..

But being displaced from the intended path to that of a get by one, I discovered things about myself that I will never be able to do so, should I still be somebody’s wife. I’ve discovered my inner emotional strenght, (although in my moments of despair, I wonder what do I gain by being stronger) and more importantly, I’ve managed to discover my own identity. I’m no longer Mrs so and so. I’m just....me. I managed to nurture my writing skills, or so it seems. After all, what better way to channel your life’s frustration then to pen it out so that the whole world can learn from your experience right? I have all my failed short relationships (started dating again after 3 years of his death) to thank for making me come out of it a philosopher. Through all that tragedy and pain, I have managed to grow as an individual. But you know what? Given a choice, I'd rather discover my so called talents or grow as an individual, with a companion beside me. Cies't la vie....you don't always get what you want. Nevertheless, it's not so bad. Looking at my kid, I saw a happy ending to a sad tale...

So the next time you get lost, maybe it’s some kind of divine intervention, a window of opportunity for you to make full use of. Blast off your favourite music, sing along if you can carry a tune that is ear-drum friendly, it’s your own ear drums we’re talking about here, look around and explore. Who knows, you may discover something worth discovering....then again, it may not be divine intervention, just dumb luck..either way, the choice of making the best of it is yours.


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Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Sometimes.....

Sometimes, when my hormones get the better of me, I’d sit in a corner and indulge in self-pity. I’d wonder how nice it would be to just sit around in idle, not having to work too hard (well, I spend a lot of time being at work. What I do at work is a different matter altogether ), yet have the money coming into the bank account. I’m sure I’m not alone in this.

My kid would laugh at me saying, “YOU, ummi….not working !!? You can’t even sit still when you’re sick!!”, when I voice out my jadedness and for a few minutes, my mind would be off the actual issue that was bugging me, diverted to trying to figure out, which one was more annoying, being laughed at by your own child , or what she was laughing about.

My hubby use to say to me, “Relax laaaaa”. Then again, he’s the anti-me who had no problem over-relaxing. In fact, that was why I called him, Relax Singh…(my hubby’s Punjabi by the way), when I was annoyed with him for refusing to help me out a little around the house. Not to generalize, but if you’re married to a Malay or Punjabi, or Indian, you’d be lucky if they can locate where in the house, the kitchen is.

Although fidgeting is a good method of loosing weight, not being able to relax is not really a good thing. Even on holidays, unless I’m reading a gripping book, only then I’d be able to sit and relax by the ocean. In fact, back in campus, a close friend of mine use to call me, “The restless soul”. Sounded very Red-Indianish indeed, only I am not red nor am I Indian. I’m just restless…

Unlike the women b.w.l (before women’s lib) who struggled for equal rights with men, the women of today are blessed with choices. I don’t get women who want to be equal with the men though. Equal rights yes, but equals? Women just can’t be equal to men, and vice versa. Well, for starters, women can’t pee straight and men cannot think straight when they are staring at our boobs. But if equal rights you are talking about, well, then there’s something there.

I can’t help but wonder sometimes, are women making their lives miserable by opting to jump into life on the fast lane, at par with the men? We were doing fine sitting at home, baking them pies, sorting out the bed sheet, taking care of the household and running them, until some smart ass woman put it in our simple minded heads that that is cheap labour. Come on. Think about it. Weren't we not smarter than men those days? By merely using our charm, we make them work to the bones to sustain our lives and the lives of our children, while we get away with the home chores, of which we love to do anyway.


Now, not only most women have to get up early to get our butts to work and earn a living, some may need to punch in the clock for another job the moment they punch out of the office, when they reach home, and that would be resuming as the maid. Of course nowadays, both partners working would mean we can afford the maid but seriously, can we afford to sometimes loose our cool, not to mention our minds putting up with these so called house helpers. The only thing some may be good at helping is themselves, when we are not looking, but let’s not indulge in this maid story, this may take an entire post by itself.

To answer the question whether women have made the mistake of fighting for equal rights and find ourselves where we are today. Well, I guess that depends, on what you define as “worst”, what your priority in life is, and whether you are a good multitask-er, or a multitask-err. If you think the best for your children is to stay home and be a homemaker, than there’s nothing wrong with that, in fact, homemakers are as noble as any other noble job can be. If you think staying home will make you crazy and depressed, well then, an unhappy mother is not a good mother. An unhappy wife is even worst. If you think you can juggle both, then by all means juggle it better than the clowns. Whatever it is, women have to realize that, we need to be true to ourselves. Whilst giving is a good thing, but you need to give it sincerely, otherwise, resentment may set in sometime somewhere.

As much as I’d like to stay at home and be the most remarkable homemaker, I can’t. One, because I’m a single parent but frankly, even if I’m not, I’m not cut out to be a homemaker. It takes a remarkable woman to be able to be a full time home-maker and fidget-ers like me may end up driving my family up the wall if I don’t go out there and mingle with the rest of the world. Having an aching body from getting up very early in the morning is a small price to pay. I’ve tried staying a home, and we’ve decided that for the sake of my sanity, and the sanity of those around me, it’s best to let me go to work. Again, I’m sure there are many more women who are like me.

In a way, we are masochists. But staying home may make us masochists AND a sadists. Although we think and dream of sitting idle with a fat account backing us up, but in practice, we are just not designed to live that way. Oh well,. Come to think of it, that’s what holidays are for…..

One thing remains true. The women of today, owe it big time to the women who fought under the banner of “Women’s liberation” for without that victory, women would become shun of the most important basic human right, and that would be “having choices”…
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Friday, January 15, 2010

He

The absence of the ring on his fingers made him look three times more attractive and promising, the first time we laid eyes on each other. He was clad in his khaki colored Bermuda shorts and white t-shirt, all sweaty from running around in the park playing with kids. Nothing melts my heart than watching a man, who show the simplest act of kindness like opening the door for old folks, or helping them with the overhead baggage, or a man fooling around with little kids in a non-pedophile manner. Of course, everybody loves a person who is kind. He’s kind the kindness reflects in his eyes every time our eyes lock in a gaze.

Strong and silent accept when there is the need to communicate, and when we do, we’d be able to talk about nothing or everything. An old man once told me that the secret to the longevity and happiness in a marriage, is good communication, great conversations and are able to laugh together, not at each other. He was married to his wife for more than 3 decades and they still sneak off together for a quiet date. He’d hold her hands when crossing the road. I just love watching them together. So yes, my man is a good conversationist. Feel good conversations gets him everywhere, including the G spot. It’s something for us to hold on to, after the body starts to hit past half-life decay.

He is intelligent yet down to earth and definitely not a megalomaniac. He submits to the Higher Being, live righteously or at least attempts to do so. Spirituality is kind of a sexy trait to me. Hmm….maybe I’m not alone in this. Obviously those who scream “God oh God, don’t stop….god” was being spiritual even at the time when they are suppose to loose their minds.

We have utmost respect for each other and even though we disagree with something, we’d try to work our way around it, compromise otherwise sacrifice. Or we would simply agree to disagree, not attempting to change each other to the point of damaging the beautiful relationship. I accept his short cummings ...I mean, shortcomings, as much as he accepts mine. After all, the perfect man or women, the perfect relationships only exist in our minds. The moment I gave up looking for the perfect man, I found a man who, together, we are perfect for each other.

Occasionally we fight but the making up makes us just want to fight for the heck of making up. Companionship is hard to come by. When one finds it, should try to keep it as long as one can. Occasionally, we will go about doing our own thing, so that we will have the time and space enough to miss each other. Some may call that the rubber band effect, but I'd call it just what it is, needing me-time and space. Besides, men don't like anything that spells rubber.

I would caress his hair and sing him to sleep whenever insomnia prevails. He would offer a simple gesture such as offering me a back rub or massage my feet whenever fatigue envelops me. Sometimes, I would cuddle up to him when I feel down and out, when I feel that the world is caving in on me…and he’d offer me his strong shoulder to cry on…and a strong arm that wraps around me, warm yet tender and he would know that that is the most rotten time to offer me any solution. For that sacred moment, all I would need is a strong shoulder and a good patient ear to relief my emotions…a true friend. And I know that he knows that I'd do the same for him when he needs to mend his ego.

We would go dancing sometime or perhaps catch a movie. He would occasionally surprise me with cooking for us, nothing sexier than a man cooking for his woman. Then we’d go to bed, reading, or browsing the net, exchanging thoughts. We would sneak quietly into the kitchen to look for food after making love, then go back to sleep only to wake up to make love all over again, wake up late on Sunday mornings…lazing around after breakfast in bed…it just makes it a perfect Sunday morning. Wait, perfect would be lazing around in bed with the one you love, on a Sunday morning, in one of those mornings that looks like it’ll last all afternoon.

It’s mandatory that we stay honest, loyal to each other, and trust each other simply because they are part of the pillars of any good, long lasting relationships. And when we are old, we’ll just hold hands and sit on a bench and watch the sun set…


Ah well, love is just love. Marriage on the other hand is about love with good timing. Marriage,to me is when two people in love are committed to one another for as long as it will take, exchanges their vows with each other, witnessed by God. It's not just a piece of paper people sign, it is beyond that. In fact, the paper have got nothing much apart from legal reasons with marriage. It is possible for two people committed in a relationship to outlast and outshine any marriages. (maybe it has something to do with the absence of in laws?) The problem is, we think that we can choose who we fall in love with….

My problem however, is totally a different one. The man I just told you about…well…..I just haven’t met him yet.

Please take a listen to this wonderful song in this video...it gives me the daisy effect, each time I listen to it :-D


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