I woke up from a pleasant snooze this morning to find out that it’s already December 26 2008 - end of a, supposedly, perfect Friday morning. In 5 days time, it’s gonna be 2009, and looking back; ‘philanthropy' has been an especially resonant theme in my life and ….O wait, you know what, let’s not go there yet. Save that for the New Year’s Eve’s posting. Today, let’s be a bit less uptight and just look back a little 4 days before Christmas, shall we?
Mon. Dec. 22. Din and I watched Bolt in MBO Ampang. Though we were a little behind (it’s the movie fourth week in theaters), aren’t we glad we went to see the movie anyway. What a great little movie it was. It brought a lump to my throat and made me laugh out loud, slap my knees and laugh out loud again - all the same time. I especially enjoyed the part where all the animals could talk to each other. Wait, they can really talk, can they?
Tues. Dec. 23. O my, it’s that time of the year again - appraisal time, the most awkward time of the year. Seriously, how is it you’re going to say to your boss you’re the best without actually sounding off like a teeny wee bit ‘office scum’? It’s like a gruesome battle, I tell you. The only different is the ‘enemy’ is your own past 'missteps'. Anyway, while I see a little improvement in term of the rating as compared from the last year, somehow something whispers to me, “I could have done soo much better”.
Now, let’s just see how it turns out next March – bonus time. Hmm…
Wed. Dec. 24. My Boss was on leave and you know what that means – I get to attend meetings on her behalf. Crap! O yeah, this time, it wasn’t anything like I have been to before. It’s an eight hours, one whole day of soul-crushing boredom and futility headache meeting. I think it was more than a meeting - it’s a brainstorming! I bored out of my skull.
And the worst part was I had to do a presentation on something I hadn’t been briefed about before and armed with only two pages of previous meeting’s minute. Hate it. Hate it.
Later, I phoned my boss, “My brain bleeds.”
Thurs. Dec. 25. It’s Christmas day, and more importantly to me – it’s holiday. Yeah! No Santa to bother my late morning doze, isn’t it great? I guess the best thing about Christmas, or any holiday for that matter is the holiday songs. I believe, Christmas wouldn’t be complete without Mariah Carey’s zesty, my perennial favorite, holiday number ‘All I want For Christmas Is You’. It’s probably the best holiday song – like ever! (pretty much in a mold of Aishah’s Pulanglah). Never fails to put me in the mood.
Ah, I love holidays. Holidays make me happy. Don’t we all? The only thorn in the side this time? I have to work the next day.
Bummer.
Friday, December 26, 2008
Monday, December 15, 2008
Black T
This is absolutely true: yesterday, someone remarked, rather hastily, to me;
“Do me a favor, hon, stop wearing black. It doesn’t do you any good”
I was stunned. ‘Why’d she say that?’ What nerve, some stranger try to hanging clouds over me and offer me some fashion tips. While I know I am not exactly mingling with the Beckhams but she isn’t exactly Donatella Versace either, so puhhlease!!
I was about to put dagger in her heart, quite literally, when I realized, she probably didn’t mean no harm, so I let it slip this time. But I have news for you girl;
I do own more than one black shirt!
Erm, OK. So is exactly my point. But what’s wrong with that?
Call me freak-of-nature, nut-jobs or even Hannibal Lecter but I couldn’t be more normal than any of you folks out there. Surely as a perfectly normal person, I do have a quirk or two but owning a closet-ful of black T-shirts wouldn’t qualify me for psychological studies subject, isn't it?
Thus, I feel obligated to explain myself - now that my “nonconformist” fashion style is under scrutiny - so that the next time you see me wearing the same T-shirt for 5 days running, please take note, it probably isn’t the same shirt. I just don’t prefer other colors.
1. Black T-shirt makes me….urm less fat. The wonder of dark colors redefine my bodyline and shape. (You should see me in Orange)
2. It makes me a little bit fairer - as comparison (need I to explain this?)
3. It screams ‘takes me seriously!’ (I-am-in-emo-band kinda serious!)
4. Easy to clean. No visible spots after eating Laksa or Mee Kari. And no Clorox or pounding on the rocks is necessary for those hard-to-rid-off stains.
5. Finally, the fashionista world over mantra; “You can never go wrong with a nice, black t-shirt” (well, not exactly, but who’s wearing little black dress, anyway?)
So these are why I love the color black so much. It does wonders to my body shape and skin tone and more importantly - my self-esteem. Black is timeless and so is my style.
Muah Muah Muah.
Erm, Ok maybe a short visit to the shrink wouldn't hurt.
“Do me a favor, hon, stop wearing black. It doesn’t do you any good”
I was stunned. ‘Why’d she say that?’ What nerve, some stranger try to hanging clouds over me and offer me some fashion tips. While I know I am not exactly mingling with the Beckhams but she isn’t exactly Donatella Versace either, so puhhlease!!
I was about to put dagger in her heart, quite literally, when I realized, she probably didn’t mean no harm, so I let it slip this time. But I have news for you girl;
I do own more than one black shirt!
Erm, OK. So is exactly my point. But what’s wrong with that?
Call me freak-of-nature, nut-jobs or even Hannibal Lecter but I couldn’t be more normal than any of you folks out there. Surely as a perfectly normal person, I do have a quirk or two but owning a closet-ful of black T-shirts wouldn’t qualify me for psychological studies subject, isn't it?
Thus, I feel obligated to explain myself - now that my “nonconformist” fashion style is under scrutiny - so that the next time you see me wearing the same T-shirt for 5 days running, please take note, it probably isn’t the same shirt. I just don’t prefer other colors.
1. Black T-shirt makes me….urm less fat. The wonder of dark colors redefine my bodyline and shape. (You should see me in Orange)
2. It makes me a little bit fairer - as comparison (need I to explain this?)
3. It screams ‘takes me seriously!’ (I-am-in-emo-band kinda serious!)
4. Easy to clean. No visible spots after eating Laksa or Mee Kari. And no Clorox or pounding on the rocks is necessary for those hard-to-rid-off stains.
5. Finally, the fashionista world over mantra; “You can never go wrong with a nice, black t-shirt” (well, not exactly, but who’s wearing little black dress, anyway?)
So these are why I love the color black so much. It does wonders to my body shape and skin tone and more importantly - my self-esteem. Black is timeless and so is my style.
Muah Muah Muah.
Erm, Ok maybe a short visit to the shrink wouldn't hurt.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
A Very Bad Tonsil Of Mine
Let me tell you an old news: I am no stranger to many doctors and medical practitioners in this country. That’s right, since I was young I would always find a way to get myself acquainted to the neighborhood doctors; be it ripped earlobe, scalded skin, ruptured bones, slipped disc…I am the medical marvel! I bring in big bucks to the healthcare industry I tell you. (I once got myself a tiger-eyes bracelet all the way from Kuching on friends’ advice to ward off bad luck and guess what, it was chop off within weeks I was wearing them! So go figure!)
So if you have an aversion to descriptions of carnage, you probably don’t want to continue….
Well, it was all happened two weeks ago, when I suddenly felt a piercing cold in my stomach and the skin around my arms started to develop with some kind of itchy rashes. (Not very sightful but no photo is necessary to describe the condition…erm, you get the idea) That wasn’t always a good sign to me so naturally I went to see a doctor.
As expected the doctor said it was a normal allergic reaction to something I have eaten the night before – which kinda a lot! So he gave me some cream and Panadols but no anti-biotic. Anti-biotic is bad for allergy I was told.
And I thought I was taken care of and good to go but NOOOOO…. merely hours after that fated visit my temperature skyrocketing to the new height, over 40 Celcius! I was literally flattened and I swear I thought I was experiencing hallucination. No amount of Panadols and Paracetamol would do it for now.
So I mustered some strength and drove back to the clinic only to find another doctor manning the shift. I told her the whole story again and after much closer inspection, surprise! surprise! She came out with her own, different diagnose altogether - that I was in fact suffering from a very bad case, acute, swollen tonsil - and that rashes was just the side effect. I was stumped. How couldn’t I know better? I knew I should have insisted on their practicing medical certificates! Sigh, but I thought that was just rude.
I went back home, grudgingly, with the new “disease’ in tow, knowing too well it’s all temporary and it could change to anything worse anytime soon.
And I remained in my bed for the next five days after that – entertaining the hallucinations. What a rotten ways to spend your weekend and some of your weekdays! Erghh!
Truth be told, up until now, I still don’t feel 100%. I still feel weak and uninterested about anything. So typing this post is sort of the conversational equivalent of an out-of-the-body experience.
I can’t feel a thing.
So if you have an aversion to descriptions of carnage, you probably don’t want to continue….
Well, it was all happened two weeks ago, when I suddenly felt a piercing cold in my stomach and the skin around my arms started to develop with some kind of itchy rashes. (Not very sightful but no photo is necessary to describe the condition…erm, you get the idea) That wasn’t always a good sign to me so naturally I went to see a doctor.
As expected the doctor said it was a normal allergic reaction to something I have eaten the night before – which kinda a lot! So he gave me some cream and Panadols but no anti-biotic. Anti-biotic is bad for allergy I was told.
And I thought I was taken care of and good to go but NOOOOO…. merely hours after that fated visit my temperature skyrocketing to the new height, over 40 Celcius! I was literally flattened and I swear I thought I was experiencing hallucination. No amount of Panadols and Paracetamol would do it for now.
So I mustered some strength and drove back to the clinic only to find another doctor manning the shift. I told her the whole story again and after much closer inspection, surprise! surprise! She came out with her own, different diagnose altogether - that I was in fact suffering from a very bad case, acute, swollen tonsil - and that rashes was just the side effect. I was stumped. How couldn’t I know better? I knew I should have insisted on their practicing medical certificates! Sigh, but I thought that was just rude.
I went back home, grudgingly, with the new “disease’ in tow, knowing too well it’s all temporary and it could change to anything worse anytime soon.
And I remained in my bed for the next five days after that – entertaining the hallucinations. What a rotten ways to spend your weekend and some of your weekdays! Erghh!
Truth be told, up until now, I still don’t feel 100%. I still feel weak and uninterested about anything. So typing this post is sort of the conversational equivalent of an out-of-the-body experience.
I can’t feel a thing.
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