this beautiful ugly world

Am I hot? Am I hottttttttttttttttttt???????????????

Anyway, I got super pissed. Well, not exactly, but I gave this guy the scolding of the day when he suddenly called me up at half past midnight to say that he's driving towards where I live, wherever that is.

I was like, whaaaattttttttt????????? I berated him for pulling such a crazy stunt on me and really, if I was going to be such a bitch about it I would have just told him that he'd have to turn back home because my address is not for him to know. But me, I'm a kind girl. So I went to have a drink with him nearby and scolded him some more.

Finally, I just firmly said that since now he knows where I live, if ever he decides to make a last minute announcement like the one he made or drop by unannounced, I will beat the shit out of him - and then report him to the police for harassment.

Then today, he had the cheek to text me after work hours to ask me out - we can do whatever he want, he added. I replied: NOT TODAY.

Man, some people are so persistent.

Now, I understand why a lot of the guys I've been with hate surprises.

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my broad shoulders

Someone once told me that my shoulders are broader than anyone's so I should stand up tall, stand up straight, stand up proud. I don't know when she said that my shoulders are broad, if she meant it literally because indeed, my shoulders are broader than on an average girl with my body build but these words, I take to heart every day.

These words ring clear in my head every time I feel down. As I get ready to face the hostile world, I pause, square my shoulders and take that first brave stride with a deep breath. It becomes easier to walk forward then. It becomes easier to look ahead then.

I wait to become the girl, whom you will see and notice her and say, "That girl, she walks with confidence."

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things i learned

What I learned from my self-help books on relationships is this: Always take things slow, proceed with caution, stay firm to your own terms and never ever have sex with the guy until you've gone out with him for at least six months until wherein you can determine whether you are a 'good for now' girl or the girl 'for keeps'.

This is an advice I should have read about before jumping into the previous relationship. Seriously.

Anyway, there's this guy who's quite interested in me. We met online via match.com and we went out for the second time today. He's quite all right, different from the last four guys definitely in that he's more generous with his money (he wanted to buy me shoes today and I got dragged into this shoe store to try on some pairs but I lied that the shoes weren't comfy - I am so gonna buy this one nice pair soon, without him of course), more gentlemanly (he carries all my things, never mind if it's just a small plastic bag containing seven big curry puffs from Old Chang Kee) and for now, not someone I will term arrogant or has a big ego. He's all right I guess. A bit nerdy looking, but not too bad.

But he's not exactly what I'd say someone who'll have me lusting over him.

So well, he wants to see me like, every day. I'm the only girl he is seeing (he likes to concentrate on one girl at a time and here I am, sort of trying to serial date like the books said I should) and the worst part is, he told his mom about it and the mom's fine with it. Today's only the second time we've met!

It's kinda funny, me trying to rationalise with him and telling him to take it easy, that he still hasn't seen the rotten side of me and that it takes more than just two dinner dates to really get to know a person.

I am not discouraging him. It's just that the last two relationships, especially the last one, really did teach me the value of sticking around long enough until you know the person for who he really is, rotten side and all because once you've fallen (or once I'd fallen) you are most likely to hang around despite finding out the guy's really quite crappy after all because you're in too deep and will endure the pain until comes a point where you can take it no more.

And there's the other guy... whom I kissed the other night.

Ah, I miss him so much tonight! I miss his strong arms and warm embrace, the heady scent of his perfume. The eyes that burn so intensely, yet twinkle with humour.

I am so fucked.

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why do we keep on fighting?

Yesterday, the one who uttered the harsh words that he will no longer have anything to do with me called. I must be getting used to this because I wasn't all that surprised when I saw his name flashing on my phone display. I suppose he must have been curious, or that his ego caught him by the elbow and told him, look, this is where you butt in and tell the girl that no friend she has is as big, as kind, as generous, etc. as you.

Which was sort of what the gist of the conversation was about anyway.

Ours is a volatile sort of relationship. Hot and cold. A wave of serenity followed by the eruption of a volcano. I wonder if these are the things which draw us to each other. The drama, the excitement, the sheer un-predictability of all the elements which make us and break us.

Little things can easily break the peace, and the repercussions can be great. Just like throwing a small pebble into the lake, creating ripples far and wide. Yet, eventually the ripples will peter out and once more, calm is restored as the pebble gently sinks to the bottom of the lake, filling it up with the memory of the little object which had caused the disturbance to take place.

Despite all that, when we move away, we find ourselves coming together. We find an attraction between us that sometimes, is hard to ignore.

Really, what sort of a relationship is this? We hurt and we get hurt. The cycle continues, we return for more.

He came to see me last night - a peace-making outing that half-way snaked itself into yet another full-blown argument before the steam let off and we were back to being friends again. We talked of work, the things we wanted to do in the future, traded advice on the ill situations in our life. We ate at McDonald's.

He looked at me, admired me openly. Tucked my hair gently behind my ear. He held my hand and I held his. He asked for a kiss and I touched my lips to his before we arrived back at my gate.

I really don't know how I feel for him. Love sometimes, lust sometimes, admiration sometimes, anger and jealousy and frustration combined too.

Maybe I want to keep him by my side. Because I see parts of 'myself' mirrored in in him - the past, the present and the future. We're too similar, yet we are different and this is why we will keep on fighting.

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achievement of the day

Yesterday, I lost my temper. I made mistakes. Someone got really pissed with me. I think the friendship's broken for good. I went home depressed and went straight to bed, because depression makes me tired, and took a nap hoping that it's the kind of nap that spells forever.

But eventually I got up because some friends pestered me to do something and not mope around. So I joined some colleagues, former and present, to celebrate a colleague's last day at work at a club.

It was exhilarating, not because of drink, not because of the music, but because I was in very good company. We laughed, we bitched, we traded stories and my last few hours of the day was instantly a whole lot more perkier thanks to their encouragement.

I may not be all that fab now, but there will come a time. I know it.

And I danced, for the first time in public. It wasn't so scary after all, because I was with people whom I felt totally at ease with. That's another check on my list of things to do in public to bolster my self confidence.

I think I can move on easier now.

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oh so pretty

Today, I blew a wad of money on clothes - which are absolutely necessary of course. Raya's coming, and I am now prepared, because I got myself two baju kurungs. One is white with magenta roses and the other gold with a songket bottom and embroidery detailings at the sleeves and neckline. They are such beautiful things, and they fit so wonderfully that I knew I had to have them. Money, well, money is no issue as long as it saves the hassle (and as long as I am not broke yet) and now I shall be hassle-free because I don't need to go baju Raya hunting anymore!

Anyway, I was an hour early to an assignment today and since I'd been at that shopping mall three times during the whole of last week, I wasn't so keen on going about and window shopping in the same boutiques for the fourth time (even Borders has gotten stale) so I did something I never would have done before: I got myself a room in Redbox and had a karaoke session all to myself.

Such a liberating experience! To be able to hog the mic and sing all the songs I want. Great stuff. I must do that again!

Other things to add: I am trying to get a new-found friend to sell me his unused mini trampoline so I can do my own Celebrity Fitness-style PowerJump sessions in my room and we shall start, with my butt! Firm and tone! Bikinis, here I come!

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conversations in my closet

That, is going to be the name of my column. Why Conversations in my Closet? When playing hide-and-seek when I was younger, one of the typical places to hide in was the closet and sometimes, it gets boring (when you happen to be playing with younger siblings who took a long time to find you) so I'd conjure up conversations with imaginary characters in my mind. Nowadays, I can't climb into the closet anymore. But I still have conversations with imaginary characters in my mind when it gets boring.

I'm not loony. It's just a lot more fun than say, watching some mindless Korean drama.

Anyway, I love masks. I love the ones that you slather on and peel off instead of the wash-off ones which are so much of a hassle. I'm not too crazy of the masks, the thin cloth things which are usually oversized and needs adjusting to accommodate all the areas of your facial skin. But those things, they usually come in lots of 'flavours' and the scent really appeals to me so I'd go buy myself a few packs which are infused with berries and stuff. I love the ones from The Face Shop. They have a large variety of masks there, not too ordinary things too.

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dance workout with Helen

Oh Helen, she's like my best bud.

OK, I've obviously gone cuckoo because I've done the unthinkable. I went and bought myself a dance workout DVD. Oh, the horror! I really can't believe I went and did that considering I'm, you know, twenty-four and not quite desperately tubby yet. But the fact that this little plastic box is staring me in the eye is no joke: Dance Workout with Helen. All bling-bling and pink fonts. Oh, the horror!

So, I've been doing a bit of dancing in my cramped room and I look quite ding-dong when I catch myself in the mirror. I'm horribly rigid, I don't know why since nobody is looking anyway (except for Helen and her two backup dancers but they don't count) and my dance routine looks as exciting as watching my cat eat. No!! What happened to boosting my sex appeal??

Huh. So tonight, me and Helen workout again. Hopefully it gets better and one day I'll actually know how to dance without prancing around looking like a beheaded chicken.

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exotica erotica

It strikes me dumb whenever a member of the opposite comments that they like my 'exotic' look. Exotic. Exotic to me, are the girls of Hawaii, of Rio de Janeiro, of Cuba. Exotic to me, are coconut drinks, grass skirts and salsa sauce. Exotic to me, by whatever reason whatsoever, is definitely not me.

Certainly for the guys of Hawaii, there's probably nothing exotic about their girls - after all, it's the same bunch of girls day in and day out. And for a lot of people, 'air kelapa' is what they'd usually buy to pair up with dessert at least once a week from the 'pasar malam'.

Exotic means 'unusual'. What is so unusual about the way I look? You see me... you think, oh Chink. What's so exotic about that then? Is it the pimples? Yea? Cos I'm twenty-four and should have left the pizza face days back in my teens?

It gives me this really strange feeling to be called exotic. Like I'm a flower from some unexplored jungle waiting to be plucked away by some bad, bad man. Now that sounds like a horrible analogy for a cheesy porn movie waiting to happen.

But what can I say when a guy told me that one of the main reasons he wanted to get to know me (and eventually get into my pants) was because of my so-called exotic look?

I don't like the way my nose looks. It doesn't sit straight on my face I think, and I'd rather something that looked a lot more noble, not snout-like.

Anyway, don't laugh just yet. Three people have commented to me that I look a bit like Sammi Cheng. The Honky actress. Weird.

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moving on, moving forward

Have I moved on? Have I? Have I?

Or I am merely in a dilemma? (Still? Gosh. Can a person be in dilemma for THAT long?)

One thing's for sure, although there are certain things that I can't get out of my mind, moving on has been a surprisingly, liberating move.

The stress that I once used to associate with the workplace has diminished and now I just couldn't care as much if the other colleagues are gossiping in a circle (which does not include me) because hell, I don't think they have any reason to gossip about me anymore now that I am just me, myself, the colleague who does her own work and minds her own business. Even if they wanted to gossip about me, there's hardly enough material to go around anyway so what, they want to take a stab at my clothes? Go ahead. At least I'm not fat and don't wear clothes that lovingly display rolls of fat or a paunch that more fittingly belongs to someone who is pregnant for two months.

I can talk to whomever I want. Joke. Laugh. Talk to the male colleagues and not worry that he will get offended! Even if he is, then so what? He used to offend me a lot by talking to certain female colleagues he knows I am clearly wry about so why should I care about his feelings anymore?

At the end of the day, we are just... friends. I don't know how it is from his side. But so what? Friends have the honour of offending friends. So if he can offend me, I can offend him. And nobody goes to bed all hot and bothered.

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save me from dilemma

I need.. to put on more weight. But I need to go to the gym. If not, I shall become a dugong in no time at all.

I want to meet Britney. Oh, I do! I do!

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to the one i cannot name part two

It's funny.

Things ended but I am not crying. Does this mean that I am a stronger person now? Does this mean that I am in denial? Does this mean that my feelings for you were that trivial? Or does this mean that I have resigned myself to the inevitable end ages ago?

But I still feel in my heart for you, and that is not a lie.

Ah, how hollow it feels to be yearning for the experiences we shared before all the things that had caused the breaks in the cracks in our 'exclusive' relationship had come to surface!

The first time I noticed you, was when I'd come in really late into the office in the wee hours of the morning, fresh from a shoot in Taiping. The first time I talked to you was that evening itself. I had two boxes of donuts to distribute and I offered you one, bursting into aimless chatter which had you laughing. I liked you instantly.

In the coming days, I will purposely come to the office and stay till late, just so I'd catch a conversation with you. We started flirting, shared our own inside jokes and ventured into a territory where we were just comfortable with each other.

Do you remember... the stolen touches in the office, when we used to sit next to each other? The nasi lemak dates? Kisses in the lift? Staring at the stars outside your house as we munched on Mars bars and guzzled apple juice? How carefree we used to be then - and it wasn't even such a long time ago!

Good things will always come to pass. I know that. I can only console myself that I have other things going for me, that a better man will come into my life. The truth is... were things different, I'd have been willing to stick with you. Despite all our petty arguments. Yeah. Because I loved you, you know?

"I like to hear (you say that you love me) but I like it better if you mean it."

I mean every single word I've ever said to you.

Good luck to both of us. If only things were different... and I wasn't Malay... and you weren't Indian.

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to the one i cannot name

When a relationship dies... a little part of you dies along with it.

Thanks for the memories, dear. You shall remain in my heart always.

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flirting, once upon a time

Boy: I wanted to say goodbye.

Girl: Did you want a goodbye kiss too?

Boy: (Pauses.) Then if I pushed you against the wall and kissed you before you go, would you protest?

Girl: I'd like to see you try.

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flying kick away the old attitude

Sans the love. Of course. Bad habits shouldn't be loved.

I solemnly swear that I shall be a better person, not because it is the fasting month, but because there is a great need for me to become a better person. It is, for MYSELF as I feel that I no longer see myself as a girl (although I did say oodles of times that I shall cease to become a girl only when I have reached the ripe age of thirty-five) but as a woman, and a woman should maintain certain qualities which make her attractive.

You know as well as I do as to what my character flaws are.

There is no need to elaborate as to what those flaws may be but while for me, those 'flaws' have always been the quirky bits that make me into the unique person I am, lately they are starting to developing into characters of their own, larger than life characters, which see me becoming an eventual version of a woman who should be scorned and well, I don't want that.

I want to be open still, yes, a person who speaks her mind but practicing careful tact. Gracious yet not a doormat. Demure on the outside, a smile for everyone but with a fiery protective spirit for the underdog.

And a person who looks confident in heels.

No more two-inch heels. We are upgrading.

I am woman!

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pink bear comes flying (with a kick and with love)

A night of numbness, and I wake up with a little smile (one that's obviously fake, of course). I've small reason to cheer up unless of course I take into consideration that there's free dinner waiting for me at the end of the work day.

But I am cheered up. An intern who is leaving tomorrow gave souvenirs to everyone and from her big bag of goodies, she drew for me a pink teddy bear with felt angel wings, dangling from a metal ring. I feel almost loved. I love bears. I love pink. I love angel wings.

Today is someone special's birthday. An exchange of words in the middle of the night left me feeling numb. I was stunned by the things that I heard - which I have no way of comprehending if they mean to tell me what I take them to be - words of indifference. A trickle of tears rolled off of my cheek and onto my pillow before I decided that I just didn't want to think about it anymore.

I'm taking a rain check on my sadness. Besides, it's much easier to feel numb than to feel sad, than to feel mad.

In my mind, I ask if I am not a friend? A friend who asks for respect, asks for a little special time with her special friend - and she gets relegated to the back of the queue. It's all hunky-dory because I am someone who will always be taken for granted. A few more steps... and then it will come to a time when I will leave for good.

Nevertheless, I still went up to him to wish him a happy birthday. I gave him his gift, a gift which I have spent money and effort on to make sure it is the right gift (and with a personal letter hidden within), and he is happy with the gift. Of course. It was something that he had asked for, something that I noticed that he was in need of and money can really do wonders after all. (This coming from a person who is not too appreciative of hand-made paper flowers made in amateur fashion.)

I don't know if he had all ready read the letter. I can't remember what I'd written all ready. It's so much easier to forget. Be numb.

It saves me from all the pain and heartache in the world.

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am i fabulous?

Of course I am! And there can be no one more fabulous than me - because I say so.

Anyway, a special friend's birthday's coming up and I'm trying to figure out how to make it special now that it clashes with the whole fasting month and a break fast function which I may or may not want to attend depending on if I have a plan or not first.

At least I got the gift ready - all that needs to be done is to wrap it. And I don't know how to present it. I'd like for my friend to unwrap it in front of everyone because that's always the best part about giving presents - the whole unwrapping bit - but I'm not so sure how my friend will like that, drawing attention to the fact that I had put in some effort (and what will be more obvious, the money) to get him a gift.

But that's how it is with the controlling types. It's hard to second-guess what they want because they expect you to know what they want. (As if I'm a mind reader.)

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reality check

Obviously, I am fabulous. I am gorgeous. I am intelligent. I am charming. I am a person of substance.

And because of those, you shall fall for me.

That's the way it shall always be.

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