Fires From Ashes

What kind of mother do I want to be?

2012-01-12T14:38:00.003+08:00

I want to be the kind of mom who can :

1) Cook a nutritious meal for her kids everyday. Or at least meals that will allow them to reach their full potential height of 6'5" when they are adults.

2) Teach her kids how to say "Please, thank you, sorry, excuse me" at the appropriate times. "Good morning, hello, good bye uncle/auntie" and you get the picture.

3) Potty train her kids. This one is so damn hard. Why is it so hard?! WHY? Why does no one else seem to have any problems?! The mere thought of potty training makes my eyes fill with tears - the stress, the mess, the shouting, the wretched feeling of failure when the potty is always empty and the floor is not, James' detachment from me for weeks after each failed attempt.

4) Teach her kids to be appreciative of the things mommy and daddy does for them. e.g. Hug daddy when he buys him a toy he really wants, instead of just taking it without comment, or worse, EXPECTING the toy like it's his God-given right.

5) Be patient when her kids are being "lau kai" (usually when they are sick) and unreasonable. A mom who has the presence of mind to redirect her anger, when she is reaching boiling point.

6) Teach them to communicate and socialise well with other people and with their own family.

7) Be a confidant to her kids.

8) Understand her kids, make them feel understood and know how to handle them and get the best out of them.

9) Be both beloved AND feared by her kids, no matter what age they are. Like black women who can still whup the asses of their full-grown, muscular, Glock-packin' gangsta sons when they are being disrespectful.

10) Keep her kids healthy, well, happy and ALIVE.

Vomiting with the 2nd pregnancy

2011-07-16T15:17:00.002+08:00

It's been a while since I've had the time to update this, since the birth of my first son has kept me pretty damned busy for the first year, after which I got a job for another year, and got pregnant again during that time, and gave birth to my second son 5 months ago, after which I quit my job to take care of both of them ... for now.

The bad news is that the vomiting I wrote about with my first pregnancy was also present during my second one. That was how I knew to buy the pregnancy test kit. I drank a Coke and felt the familliar burping / vomiting sensations I learned to dread for 9 months.

The good news was that the vomiting was greatly minimised because I knew the food to avoid, and the food I could keep down. There was still vomiting, though. But for 7 months, instead of the 9 months I had with my first son.

So for fellow sufferers out there, the symptoms seem to get better with subsequent children. That said, I will still kill my husband if I get pregnant again. :)

Too randy? Fear no more ...

2010-03-22T22:27:00.009+08:00

My mom was introduced to this ... this ... thing today.

I was feeding baby, so I wasn't really listening when she extolled its virtues to her sister. The gist was it's the "latest" happening thing among the aunties for a health / beauty reason.

The packaging was the holographic type you see on high quality pirated DVDs, so I thought it was some expensive product from France or something. Till I decided to read it.

I nearly snorted Coke Light out my nose.

Waitaminit ... what?!?

I asked my mom between sputters why the heck she bought this. It couldn't be for what I think it's for. And aunties couldn't be clamoring over this for why I think they are.

She couldn't really explain, but I'm guessing it's a literal translation from Chinese and it refers to rough skin (i.e. horny?!) and this lotion's supposed to be great for smoothing it out.

Okkkkkkkkk ..........

I continued reading, to see if I could understand more of its functions before my mom started using it ...

It appears the manufacturers didn't think an ingredient listing was all that important, so they stopped at "grape extract distillate" and abbreviated the rest to " ...etc ...".

I also love how clear the instructions are.

"Days for sub-two, first shall-face wetness, and wield the product gently knead". And if course, if it "into eyeball", you should make sure you're not naked because "sonly washing for clear water" is required "if immodesty".

I mean ... WHAT?!?

In China, the English used on road signs, restaurants, roadworks etc... may be horrible, but at least you can understand what they're trying to say. On this product, it's like the brand manager just Googled random English words from different beauty products and pasted them on without any thought to sentence structure, grammar or comprehension.

I had to find out where this product was made.

What's a Stanchion Time?!? Did they name the company "America" just to give it the impression of being made in America?!? Is that address the manufacturer's address or distributor's? It could be the address of the brand manager's psycho ex-girlfriend ffs!!

Legally, you MUST have the manufacturer name, address and country of origin clearly stated on the packaging - or the product just can't get through customs to be sold here. I've personally experienced how strict our Malaysian regulations are, when I was in Marketing. But none of it is here.

I've convinced my mom to return this.

Her horniness is fine the way it is.

Sexism in blogging

2009-04-18T02:44:00.009+08:00

It has recently come to my attention that many people who read my posts think that I am a very "angry" person.

While that's often true, the anger is usually a result of some injustice - either inflicted upon me, someone that I care about, or sometimes even a stranger - that needs an avenging angel to, er, avenge.

I don't like being angry. I don't like being thought of as an angry person. But I suppose it's better than being called bitchy, a label more commonly applied to a woman with any sort of opinion or backbone or loud voice.

The thing is, my rants are just that. Rants. I don't carry them with me, once it's out into the blogesphere. I'm not angry like that all the time (especially since I'm no longer stressed out at work all the time).

I thought my rants would be thought provoking, amusing and (most importantly) harmless to read - much like watching a rabbit try to disembowel you with a pink, plastic Fisher Price knife.

In fact, I LOVE reading posts similar to mine in other blogs, or online profiles. Those dudes show their middle fingers and cuss all the time in their posts. And they too "appear" to be angry and forceful, but they're just ranting AT THAT MOMENT. They're not always like that.

I even found a kindred spirit in one of those people. We were complete strangers, but got on so well (and no, we did not RANT all the time. Our friendship is pretty tame and polite) that we climbed Mt Kinabalu together. He was a cool guy.

Then it hit me. All these entertaining, ranting bloggers were GUYS.

What the fuck?? So if a girl like me were to blog like this, I'd be labelled as bitchy, unstable or angry. But if a GUY blogs like this, he's fun to read?!?! Sexism in the blogesphere!!

Another piece of proof was this blog I'd created as an experiment. No one knew it was me, including my sister. She read the first post and actually thought it was well-written or entertaining or something like that, NOT knowing it was me, and her assumption was that it was written by .... jeng jeng jenggggg ..... a GUY (must be all that writing I did for FHM).

Bloody hell. This is so unfair! I don't like being thought of as this uncontrollable, angry chick - but I like writing like this. It's therapeutic. And I find it funny, even if no one else does. Sob.

All this because there's a preconceived image of girls being all feminine and gentle. So, I can't get away with writing the way a man does, because girls "aren't supposed to be like that". WTF.

My brother's theory is that when people imagine a male blogger speaking out the words, it sounds like a controlled, male rant. But if they imagine a FEMALE blogger speaking out the same words, they would automatically assume a whiny, bitchy or naggy voice instead - thus ruining the enjoyment of the post.

Bah.

Pregnant Peeves

2009-04-08T16:01:00.005+08:00

There are several things that pissed me off no-end during my pregnancy (aside from all the stupid and embarassing bodily functions that come with it). Here they are :

1. SMOKERS
I hate going out during this pregnancy because of these motherfuckers. Be it at a mamak or at a Starbucks, there's always a shithead sitting nearby with a fucking cancer stick.

Don't get me wrong, I've got smoker friends who are VERY considerate and are very aware of where their smoke goes. When they smoke, I sometimes don't even notice that they're doing it - so discreet and considerate are they. Either that, or they move somewhere else to get their fix, and I really appreciate it.

But most of the assholes in public don't care where their smoke goes. They just puff away, and the smoke always, ALWAYS finds me. It's like they instinctively know where the non-smokers and pregnant women are sitting and position themselves upwind of us. Motherfuckers.

Today, I was having lunch outside, and a Chinese SALESMAN was sitting at the table next to me. He was reading a stupid book filled with stupid Chinese characters, having just finished his food. After I sat down, he took out his cancer stick and kept blowing the smoke RIGHT AT ME! There were a million places he could have blown it, but he aimed it dead centre at me.

After a few not-so-subtle waves of my hand and crinkling of my nose, he still continued. So I finally asked him nicely if he could blow his smoke in another direction, and not at me, because I'm pregnant. Being CHINESE, and a SALESMAN, he obviously didn't understand my request and thought I was asking him to put out the cancer stick.

Instead of being sorry about blowing smoke at me all this while, he actually retorted back, "There are so many empty places here what. Why do you have to sit here??" I couldn't believe my ears. For the sake of my baby, I restrained myself from kicking the table up into his ugly, yellow face.

(In another place, I'd asked an Indonesian worker if he could blow smoke elsewhere, he had the decency to look chagrined, and apologised profusely before complying happily with my request. Malaysians should be ashamed of themselves)

I repeated to the Chinese fucker that he could just blow his smoke away from me, and that would be fine. Piece of shit. He didn't stay long after that. Wish I got a photo of his stupid face. He even had the typical Chinese flat ass. Bloody Chinese SALESMAN.

To all the smokers, if you want to end your life, do it to yourself and don't take me and my baby with you. Assholes.

I hope the government stops in-fighting enough to ban smoking in public places. It's a disgusting habit. And NONE of you look cool doing it. Dumbasses.

"Lookit me. I'm so hawwwt when I smoke ..."

(Pic from http://www.welaf.com/)

2. PEOPLE WHO RUSH INTO THE LIFT BEFORE LETTING YOU OUT FIRST
Self explanatory. Usually, these are Chinese people, too. Hmm. Maybe I should just change my entire list to "CHINESE PEOPLE". Then again, try taking an LRT around town and you'll find this applies to all races and walks of life. Stupid assholes.

I mean, were you born in a barn? If you don't have the brains for common courtesy, common sense at least dictates that you should let the occupants out first, so you'll have enough space to get in, hence avoiding all the squeezing and struggling which will impede your progress into said lift in the first place!

Not to mention that they don't care if you're pregnant. They'll just push their way in, bumping against your poor belly without a second thought. That's when I normally shoulder them roughly out of the way. Good thing I'm bigger than the average scrawny Malaysian male. Assholes.

3. PARENTS WITH DESIGNER PRAMS
Gone are the days when the prams are small, petite little things. They have transformed into a 10-in-1, multifunctional contraption that not only houses drooling infants, but can be used as a car seat, shopping trolley, armoured vehicle or spaceship.

As a result, these parents take up unneccessary amounts of room in shopping complexes and lifts. But what I really hate is that they usually do not watch where they're going because they assume everyone is going to make way for their little prince / princess in their mini Humvees.

I usually don't bother changing direction and walk right into their path. If I get to kick the stupid pram in the process, that's a bonus.

4. OTHER PREGNANT WOMEN
I don't know why. I should be more sympathetic since I am also pregnant, but I find pregnant women very messy looking and clumsy. The stomach is like everywhere, they walk funny, all their joints are ungainly and swollen, they look really sickly and either wear tents or something tight and short because they think it's fashionable to show off their bellies (yuck).

Also, they tend to be grumpier than normal human beings. I had my fair share of unfortunate run ins with grumpy preggos (one of whom was the shampoo girl at my mom's regular salon who tried to rip the hair out of my scalp while washing it), and it's probably conditioned me to hate the very sight of them.

Traffic Bitches

2009-03-27T20:31:00.007+08:00

I was driving to my hubbie's office at 7pm today, and was horrified by the jam in EVERY direction. In fact, I could barely even leave my own housing area because kiamsiap assholes who are too cheap to pay the fucking toll were cutting through my neighbourhood, and didn't understand the concept of NOT stopping at a fucking yellow box.

So I decided to cut back into my housing area so I could take another route. And it took me 15 minutes to GET BACK TO MY HOUSE. There were cars EVERYWHERE!

I mean, can you fuckers learn to car pool? And they all drive like motherfuckers. I wish I could conduct a demolition derby on all their asses. Yeah yeah, they're all eager to rush home after work, but I can't even MOVE around in my own home because of these assholes!

Screw all you assholes with cars! Especially VIOS drivers!

I noticed how jammed the flyover to the University Hospital was, and (since I was stuck in a jam just outside my house anyways) I started imagining how I would rush my mom or an emergency patient to the hospital if they had collapsed during rush hour.

The answer : I can't.

Even a fucking ambulance couldn't get through there. There's no emergency lane. Even if there were, fucking office drones (usually in bloody behind the wheel of a fucking Vios) would be driving on it illegally, thinking they're very smart at beating the rest of the jam.

What's the point of building the fucking flyover there?? To move the bottleneck CLOSER to University Hospital? At least with the roundabout, the cops could be deployed to "sort of" help alleviate the congestion. But now, it's jammed all the bloody way, and woe to the poor soul who actually needs to go to the ER.

I wonder if anyone realises how dangerous it is to fall sick in Malaysia.

If you had a heart attack and no one in the house knew CPR, you'd be dead before the ambulance arrived (45 minutes later). Or, you'd die in the car on the way to the hospital, thanks to our considerate Malaysian motherfucking drivers and the asshole civil engineers who designed the traffic flow and roads.

I have enough of these things to worry about, much less read about the latest shit our politicians are up to in retaining their tenuous grasp on their power and contracts in this shitty country.

If they want to win favours with the public, start fixing the traffic flows for the routes to the fucking hospitals for a start.

Then have a look at the fucking potholes that are littering the whole of Petaling Jaya - I wish we could sue them for destruction of private property. That might get them off their asses.

So grumpy

2009-03-20T23:12:00.004+08:00

I don't know if it's the weather or if it's my pregnancy hormones.

I'm just so damned grumpy these last few days. I hate everyone: every race, creed, colour, religion ... including my own. Everything is pissing me off.

Moving out of the apartment is really tiring, especially in the 3rd trimester. Feel exhausted from just a small, bit of exertion. And as though I'm not grumpy enough, I'm discovering how shitty it is to live in a condo.

Management won't let me move out at my convenience. It has to be at THEIR convenience. Weekdays, or Sat up to 1pm. I mean, WTF?? Just so happens I can only move out on Sat afternoon. Instead of providing a solution to this problem, they just keep repeating how their bosses won't budge and they must "follow procedure". The 2 exact words that make me want to vomit boiling acid on the face of the motherfucker who said them to me.

Rarrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!!!!!! DIEeee MOTHERFUCKERRRRRRRRS!

Am so glad I'm moving out of this stupid apartment, with it's stupid rules and it's stupid Building Management who insist on perpetuating flame wars with its residents instead of doing their jobs in making this a safe and pleasant place to LIVE.

Poor, Poor Ovaries

2009-02-27T21:39:00.020+08:00

This post has been a long time in the making.

Back in October 2007, I went for an Executive Screening programme at a hospital which shall remain unnamed (you never know who's reading this), just to see how bad a shape my body was in given all the stress it was exposed to at work.

I didn't actually expect them to find anything serious, because I wasn't suffering from any symptoms other than tension headaches and mental burnout. But shit, a chance ultrasound discovered a cyst in my ovaries. Quite a big one, about 4cm in diameter

Some X-Rays and MRIs later, I was scheduled for a laproscopy to remove it. They made 3 little punctures in my tummy and demonstrated just how skilled you have to be to be a surgeon. Not to mention how strong a constitution you must have.

They took a video of the whole thing. But ... but ... I managed to get the video of some other patient to illustrate what happens during the operation. Yes. This is not mine. No. Nope.

So, here's some screen captures of the action. The video starts with them just having made a hole in the belly button and shoving a metal pipe through it so the camera can go through :

Then, another hole is being made by skewering something sharp throgh the right side of the belly. Observe how hard it is to poke through the skin. Argh :

Another metal pipe is shoved through the new hole, to let more implements slide through :

This cool clamp thingy come through the pipe and grabs at the gigantic ovary. You can see the normal-sized one on the right :

OMFG! The cystic ovary is bigger than the damned uterus (the pink, round thing dangling to the right like a testicle down there)!!

A healthy ovary looks like an ugly shrivelled white raisin - ala the small puckered thing on the right. Observe the frightening difference :

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA :

The surgeon uses this cool tool that can clamp things as well as BURN them. He burns a hole in the ovary containing the cyst and yellow puss stuff spews out :

He uses the other clamp to rip open the ovary skin, and more toxic yellow puss oozes out :

More ripping occurs :

The ovary is peeled open like a Mandarin orange. The red lump inside is the cyst, covered in a fleshy bleeding skin :
As the cyst is being pulled out, yellow puss SPURTS out like a fountain :

50% done now, just gotta fully pull apart that "orange" :

The cyst is now out and left to reside in the body cavity, which is now a pool of poisonous yellow puss:

The poor ovary is still bleeding, so the implement is used to cauterise the weeping wounds :

They stuff in a bag to contain the cyst and it's juices when they pop it. Because in case the cyst was cancerous, they can't afford to have any cancerous cells spilling all over the intestines :
Up, up and away. The cyst is deflated and a sample is taken out for a fast biopsy :

They pump in water to clean all the organs of the yellow gunk and blood that came out during the whole process. Meanwhile the biopsy is being done. If the biopsy shows the cyst is cancerous, the whole ovary has to come off !!!
The biopsy shows that the cyst is benign, so the surgeon proceeds to patch up the poor ravaged ovary with a needle and thread :

The thread is purple! My favourite colour! Coooooool :

In such a small space, accidents do happen. The needle stabs the uterus by accident :

After 3 knots, the ovary is left to its own devices to heal : The left ovary is now normal and raisin-like again!

The cyst is cut open, and to my disappointment, there are no teeth inside (which is normally what you find in a Dermoid cyst). Just a clump of hair that you'd find in your shower after not cleaning the drain out for a few months :

Yucky yucky.

Go get yourself checked-up with an ultrasound today! Don't wait for symptoms to show, because usually when Dermoid Cysts are discovered, it's when they get so big it twists the ovary (you're in a lot of pain) and you lose the ovary anyway.

First Valentine's Day

2009-02-14T21:59:00.006+08:00

Our first Valentine's Day as a married couple. We decided to avoid the crass commercialism this year given everyone's panic over the economy, and stay home :

Roast chicken thigh, baby carrots, peas and baked buttered potatoes with cheese + New England Clam Chowder soup + Ribena & Diet Coke!

Eaten at our apartment balcony overlooking a great neighbourhood view

No need to wear fancy clothes in the comfort of your own home.

Who said you need to spend a lot of money to have a romantic time?

Pool Adventures

2009-02-12T12:36:00.011+08:00

Chris was taking shots of the solar eclipse that happened a few weeks ago, and accompanied me for a swim, since the pool afforded a relatively unobstructed view of the sun.

While waiting for the clouds to bugger off, he focused his attention on a more interesting subject. His whale-wife doing laps in the pool.

The tranquility of the blue water was occasionally interrupted by two fingers

Doing the breaststroke & surprising Chris with poses each time I came up for air

Sometimes, shark infested oceans are safer than apartment pools

Pissed off with some inconsiderate Korean kids who threw their slipper into the pool as I was swimming. Waiting for them to fall into the water so I can drown them

"ANYUNGHASEYOO you motherfucking brats!!!!"

Pukey Bear Strikes Again

2009-02-04T23:27:00.003+08:00

Lord.

I just wrote a long entry about the things to avoid eating while I'm pregnant, and the minute I decide to break any of my rules, my stomach reminds me why I wrote those them.

One cup of bloody teh tarik (made with MILK of course) and my dinner came out in a big brown mess.

It started with burping out acidic bubbles, and a few minutes later, PUUUUUKE!!!

At least I can eat more now. Even though it's the same stuff day in and day out.

The day of fattening has come ...

Selfish Much ?!

2009-02-04T13:30:00.003+08:00

I can be a selfish, self-centered bitch at times, I know. But for the most part, I know it's a reprehensible trait and always try to put others' convenience before mine, because another one of my traits is CONSIDERATION for others.

So I would inconvenience myself first, before I would allow another person to be inconvenienced by me : "Oh, your regular TV show is on now? It's ok, it's ok! I'll reschedule my appendectomy to tomorrow la. No worries :)"

That's why I can't understand nor abide by motherfuckers who only think about themselves, despite you already telling them how much inconvenience their request will put you through.

Case in point, my mom has been bed-ridden with high fever the last 2-3 days. It was so bad that she couldn't even get up from bed, and I had to start icing her down every half hour or so because she was so hot. Her face was flushed beet-red and her eyes were bloodshot. She couldn't even eat or drink.

In this time, she had an appointment with a someone - let's call it Z. Unfortunately for Z, it was a critical appointment that was hard to re-schedule. But, my mom was sick, so how the fuck was she expected to make it?

She called Z to cancel, and all Z could say was how difficult it was to schedule the appointment (cuz it was like a final exam for Z), and if my mom could at least try to make it.

Now, in all past appointments with Z, each one usually lasts 3 hours and my mom is put through some physical pain, which bothers her for a few days after the appointment is over.

This time, my mom can't even sit up in bed, and she still wanted my mom to try and make it and be tortured for 3 AGONIZING HOURS, when she's already in so much pain?!?! I mean, I understand how dire the situation is for Z, but my mom is sick!!

Then, Z calls to ask if my mom could make it if the appointment was postponed to the afternoon instead. Oh, so it's so hard to reschedule, is it? TERRIBLY HARD.

My mom was getting worse, and I suspected she had Dengue, so I called Z myself to cancel. I was feeling bad for Z, cuz we were inconveniencing her. But that changed to fury when Z said, "Oh yeah, it's ok. I know these things happen and can't be helped, so maybe we could reschedule again to this Thursday instead?"

I mean, I just told you my mom might have Dengue. And your response is, "I know these things happen and can't be helped" ?!?!?!?! Were you even fucking listening? I mean, normal human beings would be horrified by the severity of the sickness and say, "It's ok, let me know what the doctors say and we'll reschedule when she's better."

But NO. She just kept REPEATING how HARD it was for HER to reschedule!!

No concern over my poor mother who might have Dengue. And she has the gall to schedule an appointment in 2 days, when she should know that Dengue might take up to a week to recover from.

FUCK. I am so bloody pissed at the selfishness. I understand it's a make or break exam for her career, but if my mom has Dengue, don't tell me your professors can't make an exception and delay the exam ?!?!?!?

The best part is, after laying on the guilt trip about rescheduling, she calls the next day to say she can NOW reschedule for next week. FAN-FUCKING-AMAZING. Of course, this is laid over with the usual reminders on the difficulty of rescheduling, and pressuring my poor sick mom to commit to making it on that date.

OH MY FUCKING G--! I'm going to rip her fucking lungs out!!! See how well she'll do in the exam without alveoli.

Is my mom even a human being to you, or is she just an unfortunate lab rat??! GOD. It's very apparent that the only thing on her mind is, "ME. ME. ME. And ME."

I'm tempted to sit in for the whole appointment with my mom and bitch slap her with a smelly cod, screaming at her all the while to hurry up with the procedure and to stop hurting my mom.

What a shitty bedside manner Z has. She'd better fix that if she wants to have repeat patients in the working world.

Can't stand inconsiderate, selfish motherfuckers who only think about themselves.

Regression

2009-02-03T19:19:00.003+08:00

Apparently I've regressed 26 years in this pregnancy.

Just the other day, I was over at my mom's place trying to decide what I could eat that morning, since my vomiting and nausea and fussy eating were getting worse again.

My mom was hovering nearby and the following conversation ensued :

MOM : What you want to eat?

ME : (pointing at a bag of frozen crinkle cut fries in freezer) Chips!

MOM : Ok. (pause) Remember to drink your Ribena also, ah.

ME : .....

Yeah, despite being 31, married and carrying a baby of my own in my belly, I've somehow become 5 years old again. Ahahaha.

How To Avoid Vomiting During Pregnancy

2009-01-22T22:10:00.015+08:00

This article is copyright of The Phoenix

My theory is that the strange all-day long vomiting I've been experiencing is caused by bad chemistry between the food and my juices when they mix in my stomach.

Either the chemistry is so bad it upsets the stomach and forces my body to expunge the offending mixture, OR, the chemistry creates so much gas that it pushes the food out before peristalsis has a chance to push it safely down.

A sample of my pain. This is actually the most pleasant looking puke pile I've photographed since this ordeal started

This type of vomiting is not to be confused with regular morning sickness or regular nausea which can be alleviated by keeping your blood sugar levels up. This is NOT the same thing, so it does NOT go away after the 1st trimester.

I am 6 months pregnant now, and it's still here. The vomiting, the nausea, the migraines. Only now, I've learned what the triggers are and how to avoid them.

It's definitely caused by the ever mysterious rise in hormones which plague pregnant women. We then have to listen to helpful statements from everyone like, "No one knows what causes it. Just hang on till 2nd trimester."

Well, what if the vomiting and nausea doesn't stop after entering the 2nd trimester? What then? Same answer. Wait and see. In fact, you become one of the statistics. One of the "1 in 1,000 women" who vomit till they deliver.

Fuck that. Being a statistic doesn't soothe me, or make the experience any better! I have to fucking live with this every hour of every fucking day. There is no reprieve for sufferers. And while it's easy for everyone to say I should wait it out, or it'll be over before I know it, lemme tell you something : You try going through this and see if you can continue to be so fucking dismissive!!

The repeated reflux of acid was affecting my throat and my voice. I was starting to lose weight. I was literally scared to look at food. I'm supposed to enjoy the guilt-free eating that comes with pregnancy, not cringe in a corner at every mealtime. I couldn't even skip meals because an empty stomach would make me vomit, too - but this is more painful because it involves regurgitating sizzling gastric juices.

None of the books I've read helps. There's nothing on the web. And unless you're so sick you need to be put on drip, doctors can't help either. Solutions from modern medicine always involve some form of drugs (which I admit, I would rather continue vomiting than take) or medical equipment, as these solutions are ingrained in them by the bloody greedy drug companies. Forget about natural, nutritional solutions.

So far, I've managed to avoid being admitted to hospital by making sure I experimented, documented and theorised what caused the vomiting. I've not touched any anti-nausea medication or anything synthetic from modern medicine - as long as I'm not vomiting blood, I don't want anything from the drug companies to come near me.

The only reason I'm putting on weight again is because after 4 months of terrified eating-then-vomiting, I've figured out how to minimise my exposure to the Vomit Triggers.

I've actually got it down to a science now. But it's exhausting to keep this up everyday, especially when people around you complain that you're being too anal about it, or that it's all in your head ... until I vomit in front of them. They leave me alone after that.

Now, please note that the following is by no means an exhaustive list, but it's all the stuff I've experimented with and learned the hard way during my pregnancy. I may add to it as I find out more. Feel free to send me suggestions based on your own experiences.

These may or may not work for you, but I figured I'd document this anyway so I'll remember what to do if / when I get pregnant again.

GENERAL TIPS
- Eat a cracker the moment you wake up. Nothing else can keep the empty stomach puking at bay.
- Do not drink any water / liquids while you are eating. Leave the gastric juices undiluted so they can do their work more efficiently. I have vomited out food that I had eaten 6 hours ago, still sitting in my stomach because my diluted juices made digestion even slower.
- Drink very hot or very cold water only 1 - 2 hours after food.
- Allow up to 4 hours to digest the food, depending on what you ate. The digestive tract works much slower during pregnancy.
- Keep yourself upright for as long as possible after eating. Do not lie flat on your back. Side is sometimes ok. During this time, do not bend, double over, lean forward, squat or twist at the waist to do things. Avoid doing anything that twists the digestive tract and might squeeze the food back out.
- Be aware of your stomach for 30min - 1 hour after eating, as the stomach often doesn't get upset immediately and the vomiting usually starts later. You want to be near a toilet when it does.
- Pop a stick of Spearmint or Peppermint chewing gum after food. Literature says it's the mint that helps, but from experience I'd say it's the chewing and production of alkalitic saliva that helps calm and keep down my gastric acids. I go thru a 5-stick pack of gum a day. I've tried taking actual mint sweets (e.g. Eclipse), but they cause more gas to be released, and my food comes up again with the constant burping. It's horrible because you never know which one is going to be a burp, and which one is going to be regurgitated food.
- Do not eat fruits right before or after meals. If you must eat, eat one or two pieces after a meal. It creates a lot of gas and uncomfortable acid reflux, and sometimes leads to vomiting.

FOOD YOU CAN'T EAT
- Pork (roast pork, suckling pig, sweet meat,
- Chicken. Sometimes ok, but you'll experience a very acidic feeling in your stomach. You will burp sour acid and you will feel sick the whole time it's digesting.
- Beef. Same reason as chicken.
- Venison. Similar effects as beef and chicken, but slightly milder.
- Lamb. Apparently Chinese believe this is toxic and no good for the baby. Also, my new superhuman pregnancy nose can't stand the stinky smell.
- Vegetables
- Dairy products (Milk or anything containing milk)
- Ice cream
- Milk chocolates
- Cheese (cheddar)
- Coconut or anything containing coconut and all its by-products (e.g. santan). This one feels the worst when being vomited out.
- Nasi Lemak
- Sour plums / sum boi. For some strange reason this makes me puke. I suspect it's the body's reaction to too much salt.
- Garlic or anything that contains garlic (Thai Chilli sauce, Nando's Peri Peri sauce, chicken rice from various shops etc...). It leaves a horrible taste in your mouth for a day or so after you bite into a small, diced piece, making the nausea worse.
- Onions. Similar effect as garlic, but not as extreme if eaten raw or pan fried.
- Fried Onions. The type used to garnish or add flavour to porridge and chinese dishes. Very similar effect to garlic.
- Any form of nuts (peanuts, almonds, etc...)
- Fried Sesame seeds
- Bread (white, wholemeal). Causes acidic roiling in stomach.
- Homemade Chicken essence soup
- Chinese food. Usually because of all the MSG and garlic used in preparation. Yuck.
- Oranges
- Apples
- Guavas
- Pears. This is intermittent.

DRINKS YOU CAN'T DRINK
- Carbonated drinks (Coke, Sprite, Root Beer, Ginger Beer etc ...)
- Coffee
- Milo
- Milk
- Orange juice
- Carrot juice with milk
- Lemon / Lime juice. This causes a lot of gas.
- Lukewarm water. This seems to join with the bile and unite in volume to expedite the climb out of my throat.

FOOD YOU CAN EAT
- Jacob's high-calcium crackers. Other types of crackers either make me puke or doesn't keep the gastric vomiting at bay.
- Eggs (in any form, but sparingly)
- Potatoes (baked, fried)
- Potato salad (with macaroni & eggs & mayonnaise)
- Chips (especially with tomato sauce)
- Tuna (in water & mayonnaise)
- Fish (steamed, fried)
- Chillis & Tabasco sauce. This includes spicy food made with chilli padi or dried chilli (very spicy & dry char kuey teow, Kin Kin chilli pan mee, Domino's Beef Pepperoni pizza drowned in Tabasco sauce). I was told by a doctor friend that chillis are actually good for upset stomachs as it has been found that chilli blocks acid production and increases blood flow to the stomach tissue which can aid both prevention and healing of ulcers. Epidemiological studies show (don't quote me on this) the incidence of stomach ulceration is three times lower in countries with a high intake of chilli compared with those that don't. Just make sure there is no santan or any form of milk mixed in there, or you'll vomit anyway.
- Selected fruits in small quantities (One persimmon per seating, very sour mangoes, one small banana --- not all at the same time!)
- Selected vegetables (long beans, cauliflower, broccoli)
- Clear soup (Carrot soup, clear Tom Yam soup)
- Campbells' canned mushroom soup (with water, not milk)
- Campbells' canned New England Clam Chowder soup (with water, but sometimes milk is ok too. Go figure)
- Sweet pastries (sponge cake, suji cake, chocolate cake, cupcakes, chocolate chip cookies)

DRINKS YOU CAN DRINK
- Ice cold or boiling hot water. But only in one or two mouthfuls, in between meals. Any more, and you'll puke it out.
- Cold Ribena (not the sparkling type)

I'll add more to this list as I remember it.

DISCLAIMER : Given the high amount of search hits for this post (and the number of people who apparently don't know how to READ), I repeat : This is what worked for ME, to stop my vomiting and help me put on weight during pregnancy. This is not an optimal pregnancy diet, and it may not work for you. You should check everything with your own doctor (d-uh).

Doddering and old

2009-01-20T00:33:00.004+08:00

Gosh, I've noticed in the last 2 years that I've taken to lecturing people a lot.

Or trying to impart my extensive knowledge to them (like they care).

Or getting frustrated when I see things not being done the way they should, or being done like it was in the good old days.

Then it hit me. I've turned into an old woman!

They say you're only as young as you feel. Well, looks you can apply it in reverse as well. I'm young, but I feel like I'm 70 years old and see my maker coming for me, so I should teach all these young 'uns the ropes before all my years of experience are lost to the world forever.

And in typical fashion, the young 'uns are not listening. Cuz ... "Whaddya YOU know, grandma?" ... life has come full circle for me already, and I haven't even hit menopause yet!

God, I am old ....

Saber Rider : A Fraud ... !

2009-01-14T14:25:00.016+08:00

Look familliar?

My brother and I followed this cartoon religiously in the 80's. Myself more so because the title character was hot, had a posh voice and an accent!

Don't forget that cool opening sequence with the macho music! All the SFX of whips cracking to punctuate the end of each verse, the electric guitar, and (what sounds like) Elton John growling his lines. Yeah!

The opening sequence alone is enough to make you wet your pants. OooOOooH!

I tried getting old episodes of Saber Rider & The Star Sherriffs to relive my childhood crush. They weren't easy to find, and my extended digging uncovered a dirty little secret on what I thought was an American series.

It's actually a JAPANESE cartoon!!

The original name is Seijūshi Bisumaruku (Star Musketeer Bismarck).

And ... FIREBALL is the real leader of the team, the Japanese dude in the red costume! Saber Rider (black dude) was just a British sidekick, along with Colt (blue dude) the American cowboy sidekick.

The ORIGINAL Japanese opening sequence

When the rights were purchased by the American network WEP, they tried to turn the blond, blue-eyed Aryan boy Saber Rider into the hero because the rednecks of America couldn't relate to a Japanese hero!

WTF. All my childhood memories ... destroyed in an instant!

But, it did clear up a lot of confusion I had as a child.

Like, if Saber Rider is the hero, why is he never in the traditional "hero" spots? How come it's always Fireball?? For example ...

Fireball sits in the middle of Ramrod's (a giant ass Voltron-like robot) control centre, not Saber Rider :

There he is, the guy in red

There's the red dude, in the middle again!

Fireball operates Ramrod's main controls. HE presses the button which converts Ramrod to "Challenge Mode", not Saber Rider :

That's Fireball's finger, right there ...

Fireball is in all the "hero" spots, and gets all the psychedelic "hero" background animation during the opening sequence, not Saber Rider :

Fireball in hero pose

Fireball in the hero spot again, right in the middle!

Observe, an Extreme Close Up normally only reserved for the hero!

A cool James Bond-type opening scene ...

... and the traditional Japanese hero's candy-coloured hypno background.

Saber Rider only has lame scenes spliced from the cartoon itself. They didn't bother to draw any special opening scenes for him.

Fireball got the girl, not Saber Rider! He and April apparently end up together at the close of the series, despite her unrequited crush on Saber Rider. She probably didn't realise Saber Rider was gay :

I think he preferred to use his "sabre" on the Outriders ... hur ... hur

All this had created so much confusion in my fevered 12-year old mind that I'd come to the conclusion Saber Rider and Fireball SHARED the hero position in this cartoon. Yes. They were both the heroes, and only Colt was the sidekick. Er ... Yes ... Yes ...

Poor little me, living with this misconception all these years - but now WEP's sneaky attempt at rebranding the hero of the cartoon has finally been revealed, and the wool has fallen from my (and hopefully, YOUR) eyes!

I'm glad to say that if a child could spot the inconsistencies, WEP had hopefully failed in their efforts to make the hero a white dude. All those "creative" edits (including a re-drawing of 6 episodes) and I STILL thought Fireball was the hero.

And now I know that poncy ol' Saber Rider was a phony!

So much for white supremacy. And my childhood crush.

Macho macho man ...

2009-01-10T11:17:00.005+08:00

Just got back from the 22-week ultrasound and sonogram.

Our baby has a penis!

We're gonna save this picture for his wedding day ... yeah ...

I really wanted a girl, so I didn't know how I'd feel if it turned out to be a boy. Now that I know, I didn't expect to feel happy. I feel so happy. On top of the world! I know what sex my baby is! Guess it didn't really matter whether it was a girl or boy. I just needed to know.

Am sure blue is traditionally the colour in which to make or buy stuff for boys, but ... really ... do we need to follow tradition? As long as it's not pink, I don't see why he can't wear or see purple, green, red, yellow etc...

Now we can start looking harder at boy names, thinking of manly things for daddy and son to bond over etc... lucky I didn't buy any Disney Princess dresses yet. :P

We might have to buy Superman stuff though. Unless he can still use his daddy's ... hehe :

So CUUUUUTE! .... "Up, up and awaaaaay ..."

On Top Of The World

2009-01-09T22:54:00.003+08:00

There are many perspectives from which to look at the weird shit happening to my pregnant body. This is one of them ...

"Arrr ... "

2008 - An Eventful Year

2009-01-06T14:49:00.032+08:00

Everyone's doing a 2008 recap.

While I hate jumping on any bandwagon, I'm gonna do one too since it's the easiest way to talk about all the stuff that happened last year without posting them one by one - so here goes :

1. Ran a half-marathon with Chris

One of the things on my To Do List in life is complete a full marathon. We started with a half marathon in the KL International Marathon - a mere bone-crushing 21km.

Our stamina was fine, but we didn't expect our limbs to give out. The knees and fibula (or whatever you call the bones of the feet) gave way under the strain and we were hobbling to the finish after only 10km. Walking was excruciating.

We managed to make it under the qualifying time of 3.5 hours, but only barely. I was reminded of similar suffering and tears when we approached the peak of Mt Kinabalu only a year ago - seeing the peak within reach, but no longer having the strength or bone density to reach it.

Read Chris' account of the harrowing experience here.

2. OMFG I married Chris !
That which I had not thought possible, has become a reality. I actually found a lovely man to fall in love with and I want to spend the rest of my life with him. And ... he feels the same way about me. Shocking!

I planned to do a day-to-day The Making Of our wedding, but I shall now condense it into a few visual aids.

Making the wedding cards. Very kindly printed by my uncle, but a very manual process to put together.

"AAAAAAAUUUUUUGGGHHHH!!!!" .... Losing it after cutting 500 little name labels.

Roped in some strangely cheerful help ...

And some ... not-so-cheerful ...

Our little sweat shop ...

Prepping for pre-wedding studio shots

Chong ... Chris Chong ...

... neither shaken, nor stirred ...

"Nnngarrfff". Hungry zombie snarfing a scone after 9 hours of shooting

3. Best Valentine's Day & Birthday ever!
I'm a cheap date, so I have not been wined and dined in style before. Often because I stupidly tell the guy that it's a waste of money to spend big moolah on one expensive dinner that could buy you 5 more equally tasty dinners somewhere else. But in my hidden, secretly girly heart, I still hoped for it.

A mind-blowing menu containing beer-drunk cows

Chris, my first Valentine, gave me the most romantic and sexy of Valentine's Days. Details have to be omitted ... because I am shy. *Coughs*

A few months later, it was followed by an amazing birthday treat in a restaurant I only ever heard about from other girls - La Fite. Swoon. They were the most beautiful of dates which made me feel very RARRRR RARRRRR (!!!) about Chris. Which is why I really shouldn't have been surprised when this happened :

4. OMFG OMFG I was impregnanted !
Still reeling over this one because getting pregnant is the single most feminine thing a female can do in her life. To many, being able to have a bun in the oven DEFINES you as a woman.

So for obvious reasons, I didn't think that macho, cussing, finger-flippin' furniture-smashing little ol' me could ever get knocked up.

Then sometime in Sept, a shocking discovery was made on a pee-stained stick (read about it here) and I am now over 5 months gone.

But, I hate being pregnant. All the rhapsody and song about the "beauty" of pregnancy is a bunch of bull crap!

You suffer all manner of indignities during pregnancy - gas, pimples, strange BO, horrendous rashes, hair growing in weird uncomfortable places, uncontrollable leaking when you sneeze or vomit, reswallowing your own bile and vomit to save your carseats, vomit splashing back on your face when it rebounds from the toilet etc... you name it!

And God help you if you have a HARD pregnancy because you should expect NO sympathy from the following :

- Other women who have been pregnant before, but had EASY pregnancies.
("It's all in your mind, love ... You should keep yourself busy")
Um. I DO keep my mind busy. I often have lurid and detailed fantasies of beating you to death with half-digested chicken drumsticks.

- Males
("Pish tosh, pregnancy is a snap. It's the delivery that's hard ...").
Yeah, like you'd know what either one feels like, motherfucker.

- Females who've never been pregnant before
("You should be more positive and stay calm, for the baby's sake. You should this ... you should that ...").
Why don't you go fuck yourselves asexually, get yourselves pregnant, stare down at your regurgitated breakfast, lunch and dinner everyday for 5 consecutive months and THEN tell me if you stayed calm and positive? Fatherfuckers.

My sister's attempt to identify all the mysterious 14-week old baby bits

I only felt happy in the 5th month, when I started feeling cute little movements of the bub in my belly, thus ensuring that I was INDEED pregnant with a lovely little human being inside me (not with an alien creature about to burst free from my already distended abdomen).

I love our still-unborn child. It's the pregnancy that's unbearable.

5. I earned my freedom!
After years of talking about leaving the rat race to take a break and discover what I truly wanted to do, I have finally got my savings together and done it.

Problem is, so much has been happening during the "break" that I haven't had much time or presence of mind to think about my next career move yet - though I am leaning towards several low-paying, but highly-satisfying industries.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Doesn't seem like much numerically, but in terms of magnitude, my life and future plans have all been turned upside down - all in 365 days. It's been a doozy of a year.

Don't have any resolutions for 2009. Can't seem to think of any. I guess I don't really care, because I couldn't possibly top what I did last year ... till I give birth to our firstborn.

Wish me luck!

From The Ashes ! (literally)

2009-01-05T22:55:00.004+08:00

Yay!

I've resurrected my old blog. Lazy to start a new one and rebuild an archive of new posts (even though there weren't that many to begin with in my old blog), just because certain purple assholes can't handle reading the truth. You know who you are.

There were big plans to write about the wedding, but then the pregnancy came along.

Then there were big plans to write about the pregnancy, and then the all-day sickness came along ... and stayed.

Am itching to start writing again.

I Rock ...

2008-06-30T22:27:00.001+08:00

My ex-colleagues and my ex-boss have been calling me over the last few days. They were so eager to share the good news with me, they were practically buzzing with glee.

Seems that all the work that I'd put into the business in the last 2 years of my tenure there was now paying off in spades. We used to have trouble managing growth over the year before, don't even talk about hitting our targets. We had to beg, plead, cajole, bribe and grovel to just to break even with the year before.

But now, we are double digit growth over the previous year, and actually OVER-achieved on our sales targets. Absolutely shocking.

My ex team was very kind in acknowledging that I was instrumental in driving this growth, and that the business was enjoying it because of the foundation I had painstakingly laid down, and the plans that I had created and set into motion.

They could easily have said that it was my successor's excellence in execution that made this happen, but I'm glad they are giving credit to me. That's the beauty of real narketing (not that SALES crap that most people think is marketing), when you understand how it works.

Marketing, or rather, BRANDING, doesn't pay off immediately. You set the foundation, make it strong, develop sound strategies based on what you know of the market, and if you did a good job, you will reap the rewards 2 years or so later. If you're still there.

The same goes if you do a shit job. If you run off quick enough, the new brand manager will come in and be blamed for the crappy business that's crumbling around his ears, even though it was the doing of the shitty brand manager before him.

So, the business is on solid ground now. All my lost health, hard work, planning and personal sacrifices were worth it. Sort of. I still wish there was some monetary reward for me, but ah well, that's the story of my life.

Work like a dog, and the next person comes along to reap the benefits. It's happened too many times to me for it to be coincidence.

Whatever doubt I may have had of my abilities before, I have none now.

I rock.

I really am the dream employee that any company would be lucky to secure.

Gotta update my resume now! Whoopeee!

Something's wrong with this picture

2008-06-26T22:26:00.001+08:00

When do you know your nation's in trouble?

When one of its leading telecommunications company dedicates a rather expensive mass campaign (both on press and outdoor) to reach NOT a typical Malaysian with a household income of RM2,500 and above, but rather, to reach another apparently growing source of business.

I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw this campaign.

A multi-hundred thousand ringgit campaign like this indicates just how big this target market has become. Not because of their spending power, but because of their sheer, bloody masses.

Yeah, seems like we're doing a GREAT job of controlling the tide of foreign workers. So great that telecommunications industries have acknowledged the existence and importance of this target market enough to spend money communicating promotions to them.

Unheard of.

Have you ever seen MASS media campaigns targeted at Vietnamese in Australia? Call home to Vietnam for less than 5 cents a minute. Or in Singapore, to the masses of Filipinos working there?

At best, stuff like this is targeted to areas where they hang out. But, in Malaysia, it was a MASS media campaign, which shows just how bad it's gotten.

Thanks for the bad restaurant service. Thanks for the robberies / break-ins. Thanks for making me feel afraid to walk in my neighbourhood after dark.

(Well, guess I shouldn't blame the robberies entirely on them. Plenty of Malaysian motherfuckers are responsible for that shit too, more so than the foreigners. Lazy motherfuckers. At least the foreigners have a JOB!)

Somebody do something.

Broken Break

2008-06-25T22:26:00.001+08:00

Ah, my honeymoon is temporarily over. I planned for a 6 month break, but seems God has other plans.

Just as I was starting to get used to the fact that I am FREE from the evils of 9am - 5pm work (or in my case, usually 9am - 11pm), I'm going back into the jungle next week.

Since the wedding, I've had about 1.5 months to get used to freedom. And I really was only just starting to get used to it. Got me my little routine : Make breakfast for my man, send him to work, chit chat with my momma in her house, surf the net, run errands, watch movies that I had no chance to watch before, move into my new apartment, pick my man from work, cook dinner together, finish all the post-wedding stuff that we still haven't done. It was nice.

We also did our first wedding PAID job in Singapore recently. Came out pretty good, if I say so myself. Much better than the shit I've seen some "professional" photographers take. The actual shoot itself wasn't tiring, but post-processing the photos take ages!

I think at best, this will be a part-time money-maker for us. The work is too seasonal, and competition is fierce (though they're not necessarily that good). Most people can't tell the difference.

Will post some of our shots up in my next post.

But ah, going to start freelance work next week, for 3 months. And this type of work means I will not see daylight for the time I'm working there. Depressing. But the money will be most welcome!

Guess I feel depressed about this because I've been enjoying life too much to want to give it up again for a "career". Can't believe I've was ever that gung-ho about my career, giving up all that was important to me to get the job done. Giving up a part of ME.

Well, I'll have time to rediscover myself and re-focus on my marriage again once the 3 months are over.

MyVis - the new Kancil

2008-06-23T22:25:00.001+08:00

It's official. The MyVi has replaced the Kancil as the most irritating car, hated by all motorists, in Malaysia.

I don't have a car anymore, and my hubby's was in the workshop. So we borrowed his sister's MyVi for almost a month.

For almost a month, I was road bullied. I could not drive home without at least one person honking at me for (good Heavens) making a LEGAL turn, with my indicator light on. Or cars rudely cutting in front of me, or not giving me way despite signalling and moving in at a safe distance.

Everyone was pre-disposed to being an asshole to you if you're driving the MyVi. This is despite the fact that I was driving slowly, and safely, at all times, in an effort to conserve precious fuel.

This happened with such regularity that I began to dread getting behind the wheel of that stupid car. When I was in it, I felt vunerable and hunted, like a gazelle separated from it's herd, standing in the middle of an open field, with staring lions at its fringes. I was in an accident waiting to happen.

Now, if you didn't know me, you would probably think I was just a bad driver who got what she deserved. But ha, I made an empirical study on the matter.

Once my hubby got his car back (NOT a MyVi nor a local car of any sort), I took the same route and waited for the road bullying again. But surprise, surprise, everyone was exceedingly courteous. They let me cut in without a fuss, they waited patiently if I had to take a turn, they displayed zero aggressive behaviour.

It was a pleasure to drive again.

So my theory is this. The MyVi is such a vastly proliferated car in Malaysia that the likelihood of it being driven by shitty drivers are much higher, given the fact that almost every household has one.

Add the fact that it's a very popular car with the ladies, and female Malaysian drivers tend to live up to every negative stereotype about female drivers.

So if you've had a bad road experience, the person who pissed you off was highly likely to have been a WOMAN, driving a MyVi.

Hence, despite the fact that I do not drive like the other air-headed bitches on the road these days, I had fit the outward criteria, brought up everyone's prejudice about female MyVi drivers, and inspired them to vent their latent anger on me before I even did anything.

Prior to this, most of the curses were reserved for bitches driving the Kancils. But it looks like the MyVi has overtaken that stupid excuse for a car to be the winner of the Car-Most-Likely-To-Be-Driven-By-Assholes race.

Because of this, the bloody MyVi is the most dangerous car you could ever give to your children. Buy them a fucking Volvo. People will leave them alone.

Comment Cards : The new urban weapon

2007-08-01T00:26:00.001+08:00

Haiya. I'm lazy to post the entire thing again, and my sister has forbidden me to link to her. So you shall not have a blow-by-blow experience of this event.

An exerpt from the post is this picture. Fucking classic Elaine. It's me all over. Or at least, it's the me since I got into the FMCG industry ....

Date A Nerd

2007-07-23T22:37:00.000+08:00

Having observed the dating scene in KL very closely in the last 4 years when I was single, I came to realise ... what a huge bunch of lechers KL men can be.

With women reportedly outnumbering the males 8 : 1 in KL, I guess they are spoilt for choice so one can't blame some for enjoying life as the village bicycle. But it left a very bleak outlook for my romantic future. I had limited options open to me ...

Option 1 : Get into a relationship with a KL guy, who's sophisticated, romantic and possibly charming but accept that he's going to cheat on me at least once in our lives together. (I just betta not find out bout it, and he'd betta not bring nuthin' home from whichever ho he's doin' - otherwise I'll bust a cap in his ass)

Option 2 : Build up as many hobbies as I can so I can stay single, do whatever I want and forget about getting married.

Option 3 : Get into a relationship with a nerd, who'll never cheat on me but wears pocket protectors, pays more attention to his boy toys than to me, says all the wrong things at all the wrong times and most likely be bore the hell out of me in 3 months.

Seems that fate decided to take the decision out of my inept, single-for-a-lifetime hands and dealt me some cards from deck number #3.

I'm dating a self-proclaimed nerd. And I love the bugger to death.

None of my predispositions about the nerd race held true with this one (except for the toys part) and he says things that make me feel amazing. The best part is, it's not out of some stupid movie (he hasn't seen that many) or book he's read. He's too innocent (or nerdy?) for subterfuge and flattery - so what he says, he means.

A couple of months back, he came to me looking a little pensive. He was thinking about us, and a random situation had popped into his head : "What if he was suddenly sent 10 years back into the past?" Assuming that he had all his memories of the future, but he was now given a chance to relive his life 10 years into the past.

Now, most people would be delighted at the opportunity and would start spouting whimsical rhetoric about how they'd do this differently, say that differently, choose different paths etc... basically revised actions that can undo past regrets, land a better job or a chick with bigger boobs etc... all to improve their current future.

But ... what he told me was his first reaction was panic. Because he would have to remember every move ,and replicate every single decision he's ever made in the last 10 years ---- to ensure that it eventually lead to the circumstances that allowed him to meet me again in the future.

If you know the story of how we met, or should I say, DIDN'T meet - you'll know why this statement is not just romantic hogwash.

It was the most fucking romantic thing I've ever heard in my entire life.

Sob. Never expected that from a self-proclaimed nerd.

So girls, go out there and bag one. They're the best.

Hellfire

2007-07-19T22:40:00.000+08:00

God, I'm turning into a monster.

Snapping at everything in sight. Even at the stupid people assisting the wedding planners in the hotels.

I shouldn't be angry at the dumb little shits. It must be frustrating to have completely no power to negotiate anything, nor be able to provide any information that could help an enquiring couple. Never mind that they could easily say the magic words, "Let me check and I'll get back to you."

Instead, they speak to me in broken English, reply emails with atrocious grammar, don't answer the questions that I put forth to them, and don't even have the courtesy to call me back.

Then when I snap at them, I feel terrible because I'm sure anyone else would put up with this, maintain civility and then bitch to their fiancee in frustration.

I went out to buy a DVD which I thought would help me to be firm, demanding, bitchy and yet keep icy cool.

Oh yeah. Miranda Priestly rocks.

She gets what she wants without raising her voice one decible. Just one look. A pursing of the lips. People scamper away to do her bidding or cower under a table in fear. Me likey.

Another show I'd like to emulate :

*Strokes cat and wheezes*

I like this one even more. Because I can make offers people can't refuse (thus savings me hours of negotiating, talking and forced smiles) .... AND .... I can make the people that piss me off disappear.

Unexpected Wedding Bells

2007-07-18T23:21:00.000+08:00

No, by that title, I don't mean that I've been knocked up.

Touch wood. * Quickly goes off to check on condom supply*

But many people who know me or work(ed) with me, and knew me when I was single, were reeling in shock to discover that someone actually wanted to marry me.

They didn't see me as the marrying type, maybe. But no one dared to say that to my face. Ha ha. Which is probably the exact reason why they can't see me as the marrying type.

Following on from the previous post, I know I don't have a sterling reputation for being sweet, but I can't believe how many people are surprised by my announcement.

I'm not THAT bad.

There's a guy who wants to marry me. Really. And he's fantastic.

On the flip side, the reaction after the initial shock is that they are REALLY happy for me. To the point that I feel embarassed to return their enthusiasm, because I'm still suspicious from the initial reaction.

Ah well. I'm getting married. Deal with it.

Destined to be Bad Cop

2007-07-16T14:12:00.000+08:00

Being in an MNC means you have to "leverage" people to get things done, rather than you do things yourself. Which means, all the energy you would have expended in a smaller company to get things done on your own, is now spent driving the people in the dept set up to "help" you achieve your objectives.

If those people are good - I'm a happy camper.

If those people are numbskulls - I'll be nice the first few times. But when mistakes are repeated, and I have to constantly provide solutions for problems created by the very people who are put there to solve my problems, AND those people don't seem to give a damn about doing the job they're being paid to do .... I'll fuck them up.

Because I'm willing to fuck them up, I'm given the task of fucking people up all the time. So people who dare not fuck people up even though they need to fuck people up, get me to fuck people up, too. I'll stand in for fucking people up, but only up to a point, then I say fuck you to the chicken shit people who don't have the balls to stand up for themselves.

I've been hearing what people say about me, and although nothing is direct, it still makes me sad. No one likes to be disliked. It's hard to be confrontational and aggressive. But all that I do is with the intention of getting my job done.

I tell myself to be calm, let things go, let it slide ---- But when I see something that's not right, I forget my resolutions and the fighter cock comes out. I hate fighting. It's hard to be running at 200km/h all the time.

But, I do it because my dad has shown me that sometimes you have to do hard things, to do the right thing.

And it doesn't make you popular.

From the way things are going, I'm probably going to be Bad Cop when I have kids too. The thought of a lifetime of confrontation makes me want to run, run, run away and hide somewhere that no one can find me.

Everyone seems to think I ENJOY arguing and fighting. Just because I dare to do it, doesn't mean I enjoy it. My unease at being disliked is far outweighed by my sense of justice when I see something wrong. I hate fighting. I hate arguing. It is stressful. I've aged 10 years since joining this company I think. I'm tired. Tired of fighting. Tired of being disliked. Tired of pushing people who have no pride in their own work.

I know my motivations for doing what I do, and I know they are often necessary.
But it doesn't make doing them any easier.
And it doesn't take away the pain of being disliked.

The only consolation is that I can go to bed knowing that I tried my best to do what was right. And for that, I hope I can sleep a little easier tonight.

Freedom!

2007-07-12T23:30:00.000+08:00

I've finally decided to say fuck off to Friendster's lousy ass blog.

Let's hope that Blogspot fares better.