Bored And Lonely

My dear friend, Hasmiron introduced me to this amazing where-are-you-friends, jejak-kasih type of website - Facebook a couple weeks ago, and astonishingly it took me a couple of days to mull and chew over before I decided to sign up. (Normal lonely, high tech savvy people wouldn’t wait a second to sign up upon invitation by a total stranger they met at the grocery store)

OK OK I admit I was skeptical. I wasn’t that interested. I am unsociable and I have a heart of Moon’s rocks - mock me! But I guess, after probably signed up a couple of dozen of more obscure websites, I became wary. From Friendster to Myspace and from E-kawan to WYNN, my profile is probably read by more people than of that Pamela Anderson’s. Heck, my photo’s profile could well be spewed around the cyber space like an advertisement spam of a can of soda.

That's said, I guess I am kinda person who is easily bored than lonely…plus I am lazy. Come on, how can anyone expect me to remember a dozen of different set of ID and password every time I want to log in to that every single blimey sites. The amount of time and effort to recall are just ridiculous. Now imagine if I just add one more…..

In fact, my current unmanageable signed-up sites, still receive messages, some dated way back from 12 December 2006 (unopened because I forget the password). - thanks to my “interesting” profile and my unedited, no-airbrush, no touch up, pure, amazing, totally-me photos. OK mock me again.

So is this Facebook any good? Well, so far I have no complain. Within days I have more than 10 friends, Yipee! I still get excited over it and am still exploring around every corner of it and weighing its potential. I guess we just have to see what happen next until the excitement die down or maybe until another genius nerds to come up with a better and more interesting site.

Until it finally happens, please send me invitation, do add me as your friends, post me a comments and coax me into signing up another site, after all, I am kinda bored and lonely.

Doesn't it get more obvious now?

Hope Couture

*Hope couture
(howp’ku toor)n.

The item of clothing you keep for years in the vain hope you might fit back into it someday.
(also wishfits, martin-luthers, as in “I have a dream….”)

I had a long, boring, uneventful weekend, so basically it was a perfect time for ‘Me’ time and I did exactly what a ‘perfectly’ normal people would do during weekend – cleaning. Yes, I ended up cleaning out my closet for two days. I guess when you rarely peek into your deepest corner of your wardrobe that’d bound to happen.

Anyway, I started the historical deeds by separating all my wardrobes into four categories;
1) Favorite clothes - cause they fit nicely without me wheezing out loudly when I put them on.
2) Things I don’t need. Probably they no longer fit or in fashion.
3) More than 2 year-old clothes that I still keep - in hope that I’ll be able to fit in later in my lifetime.
4) Other items of clothing that barely legal or near-offensive. i.e my swimming attires, my undies and my PJs

Then something cruel dawned to me. The harshest truth, fact of life came crashing down on my ample body. Half of my closet falls under category three. I leaned back and closed my eyes, riding out the shame in waves. So what am I gonna do with this?

Should I burn them all? Donate those to needy as blankets? Or should I be patience and keep it? They are so many. Suddenly I felt so attached to them. For some reasons it brought the painful memory of being ‘not fat’ not so long ago. An era I still can’t get myself over with.

"Wow, I used to run in these little hot pants”

"Hey, I remember worn this tiny shirt while frolicking on the beach"

I think I am gonna keep those clothes. After all, this ‘fat thing’ is only temporarily. I’ll be back thinner and better in no time and I am gonna wear them all. I am gonna save my hard-earned money for something more meaningful like buying a new scale or more undies and I shall banish that category three forever.

Until that happens, no cleaning out the closet for me. Let it be just that.

I figure somewhere between size L and XXL, I must have learned a few things.

Duh.

I Should Have Thought Of That

“I‘ve never been married, but I tell people I’m divorced so they won’t think something’s wrong with me” Elayne Boosler

Why haven’t I thought about that?

A Hair Rising Situation

Being hairy is no longer romantic.

The look of the hairy beast is no longer perceived as macho, man-of-the man look. Now, the very sight of anything big and furry will be immediately shot down as elusive, big foot by your local forest ranger. Or you can easily be mistaken for the bearded lady from Russian three-ring-circus.

So, I am ready to rid myself of the hair on my back, arms, chest & places; shall I say, south of the border?

The slap on the head?

Someone bought me a pack of hair removal kit cause you know, according to him; I shed more hair than a wet warthog backside. Obviously he is tired of picking up on my toxic disposed of unwanted body particles.

Truth, I didn’t a bit take it personally since I don’t find vacuuming around the house all weekend is more appealing than he does either.

So I am gonna do exactly what was told cause I truly believe waxing wouldn’t make me any less of a man - but maybe screaming like a little girl from the process - does!

Please, 'macho' is such an overrated word.

Thanks.....i Think!

It is not unusual for me to receive gifts. Heck, I am a sucker for free things! So my day was a little bit lighten up when I received this gift from my baby sister, Achik.

Wow, how thoughtful of her. I mean of all things in the world she could buy for gift?!

Oh no, it’s not my birthday. No reason she said. No occasion. She probably bought the book in a wink and later probably regretted it. Or maybe some poor guy bought the book to break up with her.

Or maybe she really wanted to help me to lose weight. Right.

But being a sport and grateful person, I am quite alright with it. After all, I am a little on heavy side (she probably couldn't stress it any better), and probably could use some help. And what a ‘help’ that is.

Well, sister, I Thank you for this ‘little’ gift. I wish you well too. Hope this would work for me, and by that I mean, it better be, otherwise you are still gonna pay for my car tires that you punctured the other day.

So on to page 1,

Part I: Why Atkins works (Oh No!)

Lose weight! Increase energy! Look great! This book will show you how it’s done.

Not only that, it will show you to change your life once and for all.

You hold in your hands a book that has sold more than ten millions copies since 1992. Probably two to three times that number of people say it’s the most effective weight loss plan they’ve tried. It is!..........................

Sigh, here we go again.

Bugged!

It was a look of horror. It was a look of disgust. My housemate’s eyes were crinkled, his mouth held tight. Opps, I didn’t expect he came home early that day. He caught me with Kiki and Lulu in our living room watching E!

I, then decided, it was not worth making a big spectacle out of it and so without saying a word, I dragged Kiki and Lulu to my room and closed the door. I heard huffing and grumbling outside but I remained quiet.

" I don’t know what makes he really hates you so much”. I said as I hold both of them close in my arms “but it’s OK, you know I love you”. Immediately I felt warm and fuzzy inside. I felt safe.

O in case you are wondering, Kiki and Lulu are my pillows - my most favorite things in the world.

Till now, I still don’t understand why my housemate mad at me so much. He thought I was being childish and disgusting. He can't see why I am still keeping that beat up pillows of mine after all these years without even wanting to get a new one. Yes, people I can afford to get a pair of new pillows, I just chose not to. These pillows had become part of me now, so much so I even have names for them. They are so huggable, so warm I feel so homey and cozy whenever I am near them.

Doesn't he get it? Everybody has their own favorite things. You know, like favorite teddy bear, favorite blanket, favorite toy or even favorite underwear. So why makes a big fuss about my two quite-innocent, limpy pillows?

Well I may have crossed the line a little there by not washing and cleaning them as often as it should be, but I just hate the smell of detergent on my pillows. It simply takes away the essence of me!

I know it sounds gross, but I like my own smell! it makes me feel safe and calm. I want to feel familiar and comforting.

Is that a crime?

Fine, if he feels so bugged about it then maybe he should give me something else to hug.

Much Ado About 1 Thing

I think I need help. Fast. Lately I couldn’t think about anything else but it. You know, IT! (Please leave immediately if you can’t figure it by now, you prude!) It bothers so much to think that I am actually capable at looking at other human being as a piece of meat! (I can’t get more blunt than this, can’t I?)

Before this, I have always considered myself, a mild mannered, guy-next door, adored-by-mothers type of a guy. I have drawn a perfectly clear line of what’s morally acceptable and what’s frown upon by our prudish society.

(Note: Drawing a line and actually exercising self-controlled are totally two different things, people)

Now, it’s no longer the case for me. I have come to a stage where I even have a mantra whenever I feel I might be a danger to the public. (Which means all of my waking up moment).

*To have un-pure, debauched thoughts about anyone, anything ALL THE TIME is WRONG!

Now what am I going to do about it?

Aw puuhleeess, don’t say the M word. I know you guys are gonna throw it back to me but don’t you think I have been thinking about the very same thing since my puberty days? Yes, yes I know I am way passed my prime - the big 3.0 and that might be the contributing factor of my current ‘dilemma’but I have my reasons.

Plus I figured, if I ever decided to go down that path I must first learn to respect and cherish other human being next to me first, right? Treat them equally as a partner and with fairness. And by looking at the current rate I am going, it looks like I have a loooong way to go.

Well, maybe in a year from now that M thing isn’t that bad idea after all, eh? But I guess until then, I’ll have to rely on ‘two of my best friends’ for some quick lurveee and attention.

Wait a minute, why on earth do I share this with you guys?

OMG, I really need help before I hurt somebody and I am dead serious about it.

Goodbye!

Yesterday I decided to humor myself and got on the scales, which to my huge surprises – promptly registered 118kg. To my even greater chagrin, the scales stayed at that stratospheric reading.

This induced a slowly rising but soon intense state of shock; I suddenly had to confront cruel reality. This ain't funny at all!

“Maybe the scales are wrong”

“It’s that genes thing”

“I was born big bone”

So I immediately did what every man does when he has problem he cannot handle himself – I threw that damn thing away.

Goodbye pain!

One Small Step For A Man......

It has been raining incessantly in the afternoon for over a week now and with bleak weather forecasts for weeks to come, I become wary of possibilities of yet another huge snag to my seemingly-doom-to-fail plan. You know the plan - Slimming down Plan a.k.a An Impossible Dream.

If you can still remember correctly, most of all my planned activities are at mercy of our mother nature. Yes, my living room is No Swimming, No Jogging Zone - no thanks to my ‘ever-supporting’ housemate. And any activities that remotely resemble swimming and jogging in my bedroom are deemed disrespectful to other occupant of my house. (Gee I wonder who?!)

After that ‘little’ drain mishap that almost ruined my only chance for happiness 2 weeks ago, I can’t no longer afford another heartbreak and disappointment, so it’s really upsetting for me to see all my dreams, my chances and my meticulous planning are being washed up down the drain. I need to pull myself together and do whatever needs to do to achieve that ultimate Impossible Dream, otherwise… otherwise I wouldn’t ever, ever dare to dream again. (So corny it sounds like a ripped off from Olympic’s Theme song!)

Anyway yesterday afternoon, soon after I arrived home from work, I stepped out of my car, I looked up to my house (which on 11th floor) and made a bold decision or probably the craziest idea I ever concocted:

“Today I am going to find another way to get to my house”….and flying and wall-crawling are not the options.

“I think I am going to use stairs!” Gasp!! (Did I hear a loud thud?)

“What the worst that could happen?” No one dare not think about that endless possibilities.

So I took one deep breath and forwarded that very first, historical step as though it was being recorded in history;

First floor, second, third, fourth, fifth, sixth…..

By 7th floor, I started making a loud noise with my breathing that it was enough to evacuate the building (I thought I heard fire truck siren somewhere)

….eighth, ninth, tenth….and finally…

Floor Eleventh!…I made it!…Oh My God!!!…I did it! (Though I wasn’t actually couch-jumping at that moment – too tired, but surely I am now!)

That means total 242 Steps - imagine the calories I burned off and oxygen I sucked - probably sufficient to light up the whole city for the whole month. And this dare-devil attempt was without the Kavadi. Imagine that!

So will I do it again? Maybe

Do I feel good? Hell yes

Will I bring Kavadi next time? Hell no

That's one small step for a man, one giant leap…. and bucket of sweat for ME!

Nail Biting Facts

I found disturbing facts on the Internet about my disturbing bad habit – nail biting. Suddenly I feel the need to share these amazing-but-true facts with all people I like, now that I have found my true calling living in this world – to lead national nail biting anonymous group.

Fact No 1

The most common instigator of the disorder seems to be stress or anxiety. Nail and cuticle/skin biting may be an outlet for pent-up emotion, reducing tension.
i.e Thinning hair, ballooning weight, work stress related….

Fact No 2

Nail biters could also suffer from a poor self-image; low self esteem or could be punishing themselves for deeper-rooted problems or anxieties.
i.e Err..again, thinning hair, ballooning weight, work stress related…..and chest?!

Fact No.3

Nail biters are more often male than female (10% fewer girls bite their nails than boys)
i.e Not sure how this piece of information might help us...but surely gives our female friends a new perspectives on men...not!

Fact No.4

Individuals with a higher rate of intelligence tend to bite their nails more than those of less intelligence (studies seem to suggest this is because people with higher rate of intelligence have more responsibility, which provide more anxiety)
i.e Awww, come on, how can anyone argue with this?

Fact No. 5

Unfortunately no treatment exists for bad habits.
i.e This, definitely won’t help that self-esteem issue thingy…..Damn!

How can you help?

Of course, by treating nail bitters with respect. Lend an ear for us to bite, I mean to listen. Show us support by bringing nail clippers around for us. Find a salon that will apply artificial nails or full manicure make over for special people like us. Or better yet chew our nails for us, after all we are uncurable right?!

So when we are happy and less stress we have no reason to bite.

What Have We Become?

It’s got free soap, free tissue and people lining up at the door. A hot new club? Nope – the bathroom at Shell Pandan Indah – the site of November 9 showdown between me and an Indian guy.

The Indian guy tried to cut the line and I wasn’t having it. Fists never flew but questions did.

Is the Shell’s bathroom really worth fighting for? Well scarcity equals demand and with single stall room for a kazillion patrons everyday, there’s almost always a line.

We, Malaysian hear the similar encounter and story everyday, which brings to my next question:

Have we now become what I think we have become?

Sadly, I think we have.

I hate to preach. I don’t believe something so simple and common needs to be told a thousand times but somewhere, something needs to be done. But then again, I leave that to our politicians and educators.

OK. I stop now cause I started to bore you plus when I feel troubled, I usually sit in those feelings all day. And after an emotional day like that, I am happy when it’s done and I can come back to planet reality.

So the next time you see a long line and decided to cheat your way in front - DON'T - cause then you have to answer to me!

Grumble, Grumble

Life may be getting better for many of us – as the economy improves, we’re healthier, better educated and more affluent – but there are still plenty of things that drive us crazy - like driving to work everyday.

Get this. My house and office are only 8km apart, yet it’d take about 30 minutes to arrive without breaking a sweat. Every morning is kinda like another battlefield for me. Well instead of on some bloody Arenas or on a ransacked paddy field, it’s on well-tarred Malaysian road.

And I am not only talking about the never-solved-ancient-mystery traffic jam here – it’s the road works that constantly disrupt traffic. GOD! The digging never seems to end – once they finish one stretch, another one begins and another sign ‘Kesulitan amat dikesali, demi keselesaan anda di masa hadapan’ s*** is being put up. It’s a perpetual nightmare!

It’s chaotic, to say the least.

I know this is old news, but there, this 3-point juncture between Taman Nirwana and Taman Cahaya, just before Taman Dagang traffic light that has been the main cause of me using up all my Aspirin supply. And this, might be and will be the only reason if I ever turned to Prozac.

In fact, to everyone horror, this is not the only dreadful place in KL that has been littered with this empty promises - dozen more and thousand more to come – for the sake of ‘Pembangunan’. Wait! That does sound familiar. Ha! Talking about irony huh?

Forget I said that. Move on.

Gone were the days where owning a car was a luxury and driving to work was a breeze. Perhaps it’s what birds have been singing about for so long - to warn us, well, before they were being replaced by deafening horns and engines.

Fast forward and crashed to reality land; One of these days I am gonna lose my mind. So what would I do to release some steam?

Don’t worry I have my own unique way on how to deal with this. Word of advice: just keep your pet away from my neighborhood road or you’ll be ended up looking for them under my tires.

Excuse me, if I sound a little bit emotional (psycho) here, but it’s for our ‘keselesaan di masa hadapan’ right?

The point I try to make is: people simply don’t want to spend most of their lives stuck in traffic. You simply cannot be a good driver in KL. You have to know how to cut into queues, how to drive fast and not hit or be hit by other.

Sigh, if only that was legal. I can already imagine the ad campaign.

An Impossible Dream

I am the lowest form of living things. Yes I am. As much as the low self-esteem goes I am disgusted with myself.

I punched out at 5.33 pm yesterday and dashed home as quickly as possible to catch up the evening sunlight – I wanted to jog and losing that darn 5 kg lard that I was talking about. But before you say ‘I knew it!’ let me level with you guys; I am a sappy, no-back bone human being or any kind of humanoid life form OK, so can we move on?

Suffice to say it in a sentence; I was taken down by a packet of chocolate chips, a cushy sofa and a rerun, back-to-back episode of Jimmy Neutron: Boy Genius instead.

O I didn’t even get to tie up my shoes lace.

So it may be time to adopt a different strategy and by that I mean, another list (sheesh!). I have come to realize now that by simply motivating myself with a pep talk is no longer works. I need a plan. A real good one.

1. Try piggyback it on something I do everyday so I can start making exercise a habit. Instead of driving home, I walk or maybe I can climb stairs everyday instead of taking a elevator. Hmmm…maybe in alternate days.

2. Never underestimate the importance of friendship. Once a week meet friends for a walk or jog. Find friends with same interest and Body Mass Index (BMI) and shake that jelly like there’s no tomorrow. Most importantly, we always have loads to catch up on – in a healthy way.

3. Print this post and read it over and over again just to remind myself how despicable I am. I know it’s extreme but people always say the body is one’s temple, but mine shouts ‘Colliseum’, so excuse me for being extreme.

If there’s anything I learn these days, apparently all these dieting/exercise business are much easier said than done. Knowing that we all have to eat well and exercise is just not enough anymore, otherwise, we would all be Kate Moss and Faizal Hussein, wouldn’t we all?

But that crazy talks, I am gonna rise like a phoenix from ashes and I will not be easily discouraged by the daunting task of dieting and exercises. So much of self-hating today and discipline is the order of the day. So no more Jimmy Neutron in the evening for me. I am gonna focus on my goal and try to remember that at the end of each day, I will find the results well worth it.

We’ll see what would happen tomorrow. Don’t worry I am not the suicidal type.

Help Me With Wishes

Tragedy does happen in the most unfortunate times. In my case, 5 days after the ‘Day of Victory’ and no, praise to God, it didn’t happen on the road.

I gained 5 Kg, Yeap 5 kg but please do not be alarmed as I do have plan. Sorta ‘Pre-plan’ plan.

1. Swim 3 times a week.
That’s 4 laps or 20 minutes non-stop or whichever comes first for each session. Downside? Thinning hair. But hey, I’d go thinning figure over thinning hair anytime.

2. Jog/Run 4 times a week.
20 minutes non-stop around stray dog-free zone in the neighborhood. Possible snag? Stiff, aching right leg. Over aching back? . No contest.

3. Visit to Office Gym 3 times a week.
During lunch, normally I eat 15 – 20 minutes. Now it’s going to be a 5 minutes affair. No grinding. Swallow only.

4. Keep a Food Journal/Log.
I am going to record anything that passing my gag reflex. Details might be gruesome but O what I’d do for beauty. I mean health.

So how do I find 290 minutes in my busy, hectic, impossible week? I don’t. I cheat and I steal. Sacrifices need to be made. And if you think I am going to rest on my laurels once I lose that darn 5 kg, think again.

This ‘pre-plan’ plan is going to be my permanent fixture in my daily routine until well I can afford to hire my own personal trainer.

Wish me luck. I need all the luck I can get.

Me And My Chest

I read something amusing on the newspaper yesterday, something that irked me. It’s about 'valley that run between two mountains’. Yes, that ‘cleavage’ to you, you sick perverts. What bothered me the most I guess, I felt like being mocked at.

"All cleavage is good cleavage – suitable for viewing, with one exception, male cleavage. Male cleavage is always “look away” cleavage, unless, that is, you happen to find Jell-O with hair on it appealing”

Yes, Yes I do have ‘Jell-O’ and it got hair on it OK!

I know this might sound sickeningly strange but I suddenly felt an unreasonable, unexplained urge to defend myself, err I mean the entire males population - whether they want it or not.

In a world striving for gender equality, I am enraged why males with ‘healthy-looking’ chest are being mocked at or is it because the fact that ‘it’ exclusively females’? Should I run a poll to find out?

Try walking in public, like buying something for Berbuka at Bazaar Ramadhan near your house - bare-chested and see what I mean. Believe me I tried that once and the scar from the experience will haunt me for the rest of my life.

I guess why I am suddenly interested in the subject is because of my sudden surge in weight lately and it is hard not to notice the ‘development’ around my chest area. I become more and more self-conscious and an article like that certainly wouldn’t help maintaining my sanity and self esteem. It does irritate me at some level.

I know you'd say it's a 'wake up call' for me but it’s the 'waking up' favor that I don’t really need at this moment, what more with festive season around the corner.

Man! Here I am blabbering about my cleavage while comes tomorrow, Malaysians will get to watch the nation’s first ever astronaut as he becomes the first Malaysian in outer space.

I must be awfully self-involved: It’s narcissistic to think that anyone would want to compliment my cleavage over national interest.

Since I am such a feast for the psychological mind, I might want to consider talking to a professional, right?

Sure I do, but I need to button up first.

Energy Vampires

I had a brutal day yesterday. You knew it was going to be not-so-rosy day ahead, when you overslept and missed your sahur. And anyone who knows me knows that ‘never mess with Mus when he’s hungry’. I get cranky easily. So I wasn’t on the top mood for rib tickling or poke-a- cheeks antics. I thought I was going to save all the energies I could save and be a big fat grizzly bear.

Never I thought it was going to be such a battle.

Yeap, energy vampires, as they call it, they are everywhere – people who make themselves feel better at our expense. They drained and sucked our energy good and wiped out the evidence like it never had ever happened.

And the worst thing was they came with a baggage, a truckload of extra things to do for you, all of the sudden, all at once, like a big giant wave or gazelle stampede. All screaming for attention just before the Big Friday.

O yes people, all these things happened two days, two days before my ultimate holiday of the year.

Man, I am exhausted.

But this post ain’t about who-did-what-to–whom. Lucky you, I am not kind of a guy who likes to lay open my problems at office or home in public, at least not on the Net. It’s just not my nature to go on shredding the details on any unfortunate events in my life over one-sided medium like this.

I still save some ‘what’s left’ of my dignity to myself. (err…maybe save that stupid neighbor of mine or that darn pancake). But if there’s any consolation, you get to enjoy harmless rambling why-me pleas and curses from me once in awhile.

O the beauty of blogging.

Tomorrow is only Thursday and I am already having out of body experience. Someone told me the real joy of having a great time is not on the real minutes or moment you are having it but on the long wait leading to that. But now I am not sure it’s true.

By the time you read this, I’d probably bury my head over a mountain, piles of paper works due to be cleared within 48 hours and I am definitely NOT enjoying every minute of it.

Silence Of The Lamb

The worst thing about being a newbie is that you get to be a sacrificial lamb. No, not the one for Raya Qurban but the black one, where a certain, unknown tribe from the deep jungle of Amazon offers to their God of Harvest. You know, before they suck your blood dry.

That’s exactly what I am now, well maybe with little less hair.

OK. So obviously I am agitated and if you must know why – I was made to work on 4th day of Raya!

Think that is not bad enough? How about if I say I’d be the only living, breathing thing on the entire floor? I think I am gonna puke.

But you know me, I moved on…Not!

I was seething mad and let it be known that this “lamb” can’t be silenced. I sulked like a little boy and demanded an entire week off before Raya from my boss.

And surprisingly it got approved!

Yeah! that means my “Raya” will start on 5th of October - a week ahead of everybody.

But I wasn’t at all in celebratory mood. I hate being lonely but I looked on the brighter side of things.

Hey! Maybe this isn’t bad thing after all - I get to do whatever I want to do plus I can wear whatever I want. I am sure my boss would have plenty of ideas to keep me busy on that day but do I give a *^&%.?

My evil mind is throwing a number of “unmentionables” here but on the top of my head right now… riiiight..

I think I am gonna have a party….with myself. Maybe I’ll bring my radio, my CD collection, some foods and punch and be totally let may hair down. (not sure whether that expression is appropriate here)

Hmm…I think I kinda like this idea already.

This is just sad, isn’t it?

Barely There

I had lunch with a female friend yesterday. I ordered ‘rojak buah’ while she was having a full plate of mixed rice. She asked me whether that would do.

“I could eat a plate of mixed rice if I want to,” I said, “but I won’t. I feel so guilty afterward.”

“Aaa…you’re on diet.”

I care about the way I look. “ I go back and forth between two mirrors in my apartment like I am going to look different in each one. It’s like, yeah, I look good in this mirror, let me see if I look as good in the other. Doesn’t everyone do that?”

My friend stared at me and nodded and made encouraging noises. But she wasn’t really paying attention.

“Sometimes I get so distracted.” She said.

“Why is that?”

“Your hair.”

“My hair? Thanks a lot. I hate my hair.”

“No. I like your hair like that. It makes you look…..less bald.”

We both cracked up.

Luckily there was no fork within my reach.

Sigh. My sexy lips – that’s all I can go by now.

Join The Fight Against Bachelorism

My mom asked about it. Ariel bragged and couldn't stop talking about it. So when is gonna be?Next month I’ll be officially 30. I dread just to think about it.

“So, bila nak kahwin ni?’

You see, I am not single now because I chose to be single but alas, no one has struck my fancy so far. Though I am not pursuing anyone right now but I think it’s all in good fun

With my age inches to big 30 every minute, my rising star status as a single never has been brighter. So I list down some of the things I need to do to avoid die-alone-at-old-age syndrome before I hit 40.

1. Make more money. I know money doesn’t make the man, but it sure doesn’t hurt.

2. Make self more irresistible. Remember ‘the best flirting technique would be not to flirt at all and just let it happen’.

3. Get self a celebrity stylist. As bad dressers go, I have it good. I was never good at fashion or matching colors.

4. Do ads or sign up with licensed match making company.

Hmmm...Speaking of which, maybe my ads should read something like this:


Buzzed hair and striking eyes aside, I emit an air of quiet mystery that is irresistible. I definitely have a shy component. There’s part of me that wants to be seen and heard, but then I want to retreat. As for what I am looking for in a partner. I am definitely a mind man. Intelligence is a big thing. If you can’t have a conversation, it’s done.

Ouch!

Excuse me for the semi-accurate description; I had to be done feeling like I didn’t deserve good things.

Story of a heartbreak

Of late, my life seems like spiraling out of control. I am not myself lately. Damn, I feel like I am about to have a nervous breakdown!

The sad thing is I used to be the most optimistic man out there. I always looked a brighter side of things, strolled one day at a time and woke up to a morning shine like a little child.

What happen to me now is hard to understand. I woke up frightened every morning thinking of another battle that awaits me promised yet another humiliating defeats.

I remember seeing one of those soup operas and wondering how the main protagonists coming out victoriously from one tragedy to another bigger ones under the pretext ‘happily ever after’ and still look mighty fine in those designer outfits and perfect complexion. Huh! some people still like to live in denial.

Ironic aside, it seems like it’s getting harder and harder to maintain my sanity these days. My world full of anger and hatred and I sense that people out to get me every time. I look people with smile in the face with envy while I can hardly pull a muscle to smile and find that to frown is much more easy.

I was told that problems never really go away, they actually stay around you so that you can learn to live. It’s the only way one man can grow. They change your view on life every time so that you have a better understanding our very own existence. This will only make you strong and wise.

At this point I conceded there is so much ‘living’ and ‘growing’ I can take.

I probably can talk to someone I can trust but my ego seems to get the better of me. People around me always expecting something greater than I really am and I feel I’d disappoint them. This is eating me up a lot lately and has taken a heavy toll on me.

I am now on my bed, chanting quietly in my heart that there are people worse off than me somewhere in the universe and I am dying to know them.