Inggeris Patience

Ugh. I suppose I was wrong when I assumed professionals could, nay, should be able to speak English well, but despite reading the hilarious accounts of MrsNad's boss, the BOIW from Inggeris-hell, I still stubbornly, naively held on to my belief that working people, especially those working in offices, could speak it well. I really should have known better. All I could do was sit there, just short of stuffing tissue in my mouth to muffle the incredulous laughter.

"Harllow? I am calling from Company X. Yes, I am calling regarding the documentaries I lee-see-ving from you fax me ah. Yes, I lee-seeve alreddi, but this is my first time come across this, so I need your adwisement? ... Oh, ok. So I will get the authorization signatories from my boss and fax return it to you? Ok. Teng kyoooop." [hangs up]

oh, and my boss, while not so hopeless, had this to say about one of the company's products:

"Our system is virtually maintenance-free, and almost never breaks down! Of course, after a while - maybe 10 years - there might be some minor problems, but breakdown? I'd say .. only once in a full moon! Guaranteed!"

I kid you not.

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Feeling:

Cehck Tihs Out!

So arpaeptnly trehe was tihs raesecrh at Cmabgrdie Uinervtisy on the phaonmneal pweor of the hmuan mnid. It semes taht it deonst mtaetr waht oredr the ltteers of a wrod are in, the olny iprmoatnt tihng is taht the frist and lsat ltteers be in the rghit pclae. The rset can be a taotl mses and you wlil sitll be albe to raed it wouthit a porbelm. Arpaeptnly tihs is bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey lteter by istlef, but the wrod as a wlohe.

Fciansniatg. Asboultley ficasnntiag... I wolud wirte a wlohe psot tihs way, but its too tmie csonumnig .. ;o)


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Feeling:

A Random Rant on the Subject of Bellies

Y'know what?

I think all women, even the skinniest (especially the skinniest!), should have bellies. Okay, I'm not talking about hanging-over-the-belt type guts (guilty as charged), but small, slight ones.

I think there are few things more alluring and endearing than the soft curve of a belly on a woman. Which is why I find the mannequins at Escada KLCC so adorable. ;o)

Aiyah! All women look at - and appreciate! - bodies of other women! Get over it!

Really. I think it makes women look .. softer. Vulnerable, in a non-pushover way. Nurturing. Ethereal in a Botticelli's Venus way. Cute.

Natural.

Seriously, angular women freak the hell out of me. Oh, I won't deny I've looked at them pair of thin thighs and wished I could fit into those skinny pants, but the sight of them jutting pelvic bones with the skin just straaaaaaaaining to cover them more or less puts me off. And collarbones which threaten to put my eyes out, they're a rant post unto themselves.

Models. I just don't think it's natural. I'm sorry, but models scare me. But whenever I come across one, I find myself unable to pull my eyes away. They're fascinating in the way major car accidents and six-legged goats are fascinating. It's almost impossible to look away. Whoever first dubbed them clothes-hangers were not kidding. And if they were those lovely padded hangers which come with little ribbons it wouldn't be so bad. No, they're definitely those bare-wire hangers which leave irritating 'bumps' on the shoulders of your favourite blouse.

Eeeeee.

Give me a beautiful, small, soft belly any day.


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Feeling:

The Simplest Things

I used to think I knew what I wanted. I suppose I still kind of do, but is it everything I need?

I want a nice, huge house. I want to have my own jet so I can fly to Switzerland should I fancy. I want a jacuzzi in my backyard. I want a humongous library, crammed chock-full with books. But do I really need any of it?

But it'd be silly comparing deep-seated desires to material ones. Nevertheless, the premise remains: do I really need everything I want?

And do I know what it is I really need?

Most times I think I don't. I'm just beginning to realise how much I don't. And only when it hits you like a face-first belly-flop off a 5-foot springboard into the pool do you realise how much you've been needing it. And by the time you realise it, just pray and be grateful it is not too late.

You take so many things for granted when you think what you want is what you need.


"
DANTE: Veronica.

JAY: Is she that girl who's down here all the time? She came here today carrying a plate of food.

DANTE: Lasagne.

JAY: And what - you were gonna dump her to date that Caitlin chick?

DANTE: Maybe.

JAY: I don't know dude. That Caitlin chick's nice. But I see that Veronica girl doing shit for you all the time. She brings you food, she rubs your back...Didn't I see her change your tire one day?

DANTE: I jacked the car up. All she did was loosen the nuts and put the tire on.

JAY: Damn. She sure goes out of her way.

DANTE: She's my girlfriend.

JAY: I've had girlfriends, but all they wanted from me was weed and shit. My grandma used to say, "Which is better: a good plate with nothing on it..." No, wait. I fucked up. She said "What's a good-looking plate with nothing on it?"

DANTE: Meaning?

JAY: I don't know. She was senile and shit. Used to piss herself all the time. C'mon Silent Bob.

(pause)

SILENT BOB: You know, there's a million fine-looking women in the world, but they don't all bring you lasagne at work. Most of them just cheat on you.
"
~Clerks~

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Feeling:

Happiness Is...

Y'know what?

I am happy. So happy.

Things aren't perfect, but I am happy.

What a wonderful difference just one person makes.

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Feeling:

Guess Who's Moving On?!!

So I went for the interview, almost peed in my pants and talked back to the person who had the final say .. and I landed myself a job! :o)

Oooooh .. my first 'real' job! I've been working with mummy dearest and uncle(s) since I got out, and although I suppose I did actually work, it really didn't feel like it. There was no sense of accomplishment, no sense of real achievement, and it was wholely unfulfilling. It may have been due to the fact that privately, I thought it was a sort of copping-out, but whatever it was, it made me feel .. useless. Under-achieved. Under-utilised. Stagnant.

Stifled.

And so this is the beginning of (finally!) being able to cut them apron strings. Yes, the ones I have been straining against for so many years, but have been unable to sever due to financial dependency.

And I'll finally be able to discover what I'm really capable of, to test my limits, see just how good I really can be, to prove myself. Not to just anyone, but to me.

I don't know how people can be satisfied with dead-end jobs. Jobs that don't challenge you, repetitive jobs, no-brainer jobs. I couldn't stand to be stifled like that, I would wither and die.

.. Which probably automatically puts me out of the running for the "Most Loyal Employee" Award, but hey, some things are more important than getting a cushy pension package. Like being happy and satisfied with something you'll have to do day in, day out, minimum 5 days a week for approximately the next thirty years, for instance. It is a VERY lucky person who's able to love her job and be paid well for it at the same time, but I think it's lucky just to love your job, period. Alls I's knows is I think no matter the size of the paycheck, nothing could be worse than waking up in the wee hours of the morning and feel nothing but loathing at the beginning of the day. Things can only get worse from there.

.. Unless, of course, you won the lottery.

.. Maybe. ;o)

So I got myself a job, all by myself. I don't know if I'll like it, but it's somewhere to start.

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Feeling:

Oh, Solitude!

Solitude is a necessary thing. In small doses. I suppose.

I barricaded myself in my room. Nobody bothered me all day. I only just went down to get something to eat, now that everyone is asleep.

What peace! What blessed silence!!

I don't know why I need it, but I do. I need the solitude, the silence. I need whole chunks of time away from people, to be alone with just me. And my books. My music.

The past few weeks I've been over-exposed to people needing me for this, people wanting me for that, people demanding my attention NOW NOW NOW!!! ... For a semi-hermit like me, it all was just too much. I can handle a lot of things, but if I have a failing, it is the inability to handle the incessant yapping of people I just DON'T GIVE TWO SHITS about, clamouring over each other for my attention over the most trivial and inconsequential of matters; things which, to them, are of UTMOST importance, their magnitudes blown wholely out of proportion by people who do it because they MUST feel important about themselves.

Self-important Fuckers.

Not even home is a refuge when you have nine other people living under the same roof. It's been driving me insane. The past few days I've been totally out of my mind. I swear I went bonkers. Something just snapped. Now that I've had a whole day and a bit of ABSOLUTELY NO CONTACT with another person, I've only just begun to realise what the problem really was. Well, I always kind of knew what the problem was, but am now only realising that there was a bit more to it than I initially thought.

What it essentially boils down to is that I need somewhere I can be myself. For whatever. I need to have a place to call my own, somewhere for me to hide when I need to. When I was younger I used to be able to find my refuge in books. I would bury myself in them, and when I finally emerged, I'd find I'd've read my worries away. For unknown reasons, it no longer works. I find that nowadays I need something more physical, and of late I find the need for private, personal space growing stronger and stronger. More urgent.. and almost desprately necessary.

The logistics of it, however, needs to be worked out first. So far, it's not working out. Yet. I don't know how much longer I can hold up, but hopefully it'll be long enough for me to work something out. It's not much of a choice, really, and with some luck (well, a lot of it really!!) I won't have to wait very long.

I'm going to watch some Southpark now. It always cheers me up. :o)

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Feeling:

A Series of Unfortunate Events

After missing out on a yoga session (don't ask!!!), I very bad-naturedly tromped out of the gym, bought myself a movie ticket and seeing I had half an hour to kill, headed for A&W for a Root Beer Float and Curly Fries. Shaddap. Jangan komen. It was a tough day, okay?

I watched Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events. Gosh, what a lovely-sounding name. Lemony Snicket. Lemony. Hehee. But seeing as how A Series of Unfortunate Events seemed to be the theme for my day, perhaps it was only fitting (and most apt!) that I watched it.

What a sad movie! Really! It's so sad!! The whole movie, I felt such sympathy for those poor Baudelaire children. They suffer one unfortunate event after another, and at times when things looked like they were finally turning out right, another misfortune befalls them. Kesian sangat! I cried for Uncle Monty, but then again, I have a soft spot for Billy Connolly. ;o) Yet, I thought it was brilliant. It was brilliant in the way Big Fish and Pleasantville were. It's tragically beautiful in the way Nightmare Before Christmas is, almost exactly in the same way. I realise that many would beg to differ, but my two cents. :o)

It's a beautifully made film, the costumes, the sets .. the actors! I hadn't really read much about the movie prior to watching it, and I was surprised to see so many established actors, but that's irrelevant! Or is it? Beyond a doubt, though, the children were the stars .. especially baby Sunny. Wahaahaaa!! She had the BEST lines! *G*

Aaaah .. Go watch the film, this film that says even a seemingly-unending series of unfortunate events ends in a rainbow .. of sorts. :o)

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Feeling:

Why, oh Why???

Why is it that when you're feeling especially, exceptionally bloated, you cannot resist scarfing down chocolates by the tonnes?

And why is it that you keep wanting to eat eat eat eventhough you feel your chin growing a twin?

(All you lucky people who don't have this urge, I hate you! Go away!! >oP)

Oh God. Ni baru PMS. I'm going to feel like the Hindenburg when I'm preggers.

Oh God.

I am sooooooo FAAAAAAT!!!!

.... But I'll bet a pink iPod Mini would make me feel better. Although the green one kinda kicks serious cool ass too. ;o)

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Feeling:

A Book, Someone?

I need something to read.

Usually, I have the memory of a sieve. For obvious reasons, this is generally bad. When it comes to my books though, it's a bit of a blessing as that means that I can read my books over and over again, and every time I read it, it's as if I'm reading the story brand new. However, numerous repititions of the same old stories tend to drill them into me head.

This, unfortunately, has happened with just about every book I own. Or any book I care to read right now, that is. I opened my cupboard and couldn't find a single thing to read. It's like opening a closet overflowing with clothes and having to yell in total desperation, "I have nothing to wear!!!" The girls should understand what I mean.

Nak pergi Kinokuniya, tak ada duit. Macam mana niiiiii???!!!!

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Feeling: