Comment Cards : The new urban weapon

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

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

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

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

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!

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

Let's hope that Blogspot fares better.