Saturday, July 18, 2009

Soul mates and penguins no more.

Do you know the story of penguins?


Seriously. I'm going somewhere with this. In all serious get-out, this is a classic pick up line. 

Well, for the most part, until I start bringing up words like "marriage" and "soul mates", which then generally scare the male race away.

But on penguins.

Penguins spend their entire lives searching for that one soul mate, and when they do, that's who they stay with in sickness and in death. And if one of them dies, the surviving penguin NEVER remarries. As in, he will always be that 50 year old penguin widow who didn't marry a little twat-like 25 year old as soon as his wife died.

Honest to God, I tell this story to everyone I meet. And I'm all like "Oh I want to be a penguin, because this soul mate story is sooo touching", etc.

Do note, I'm jaded, cynical, and am convinced every man who ends up with me has this irrational fear of commitment, because I'm like, so out there. 

("Emotionally unstable" were the words used to describe me, but that was ONE hormonal day and I really shouldn't be judged off of ONE DAY, I don't think)

So all's fine and dandy until I read the headlines on CNN and other news stations about these gay penguins who broke up.

Seriously? No one breaks up in penguin land. And then it goes on about how gay penguin leaves his partner, moves out of their burrow, only to hook up with a (get this) FEMALE penguin,  then has like little baby penguins with her, while the dumped penguin watches all of this unfold in front of him!

I expressed this tiny bit of displeasure of how this breaks up my whole "penguins are soul mates for life" story to my coworker, who then informed me that penguins are probably about a decade behind humans, so this was just a matter of time.

Now I'm convinced, if the penguins cant do it, we're screwed.

Soul mates do not exist. People end up divorcing and marrying someone else, half their age just for kicks.

Also, for the record, I did just blog entirely about penguins, and I have not abandoned my blog.




Thursday, May 28, 2009

The Sleeparound List

At dinner the other night:

I need to revisit our list”, I told him.

Him: The list?

Me: Yes- the list of celebrities we’re allowed to sleep with and not get into trouble.

Him: Mine has never changed- Its always been Eva Mendez.

Me: Well, I have changed mine, since Matt Damon has still not called me for our booty call. He must be busy with his kiddos.

Him: Who’s on your new list?

Me: Anoop.

(I swear he choked on his beer)

Him: Why are you lowering your standards??

Me: I’m using logic in this. If I lower my standards, the more likely I can say that I hit someone who was on my list. Because, the reality is, the chances of me sleeping with Anoop is probably higher than you sleeping with Eva Mendez.

Him: Are you following him on Twitter?

Me: As a matter of fact, yes, I am. Here, let me show you what he’s doing right now.

(pulls out phone)

Me: See? Anoop says he likes being in North Carolina, even though it’s raining. Do YOU know what Eva is doing?

Him: No.

Me: My point exactly. Lower your standards.

Him: But honey, if Eva calls me and tells me she wants a piece of my lovin, I will actually say no because I love you.

Me: Gosh, that’s a choked up sweet pick up line. But, if that really happens, I will totally give you my blessing and tell you to go sleep with her. Cos the chances of that happening is slim. To none.

Him: Don’t knock my list- logic.

Me: Don’t knock mine!

At that point, the waiter showed up to take our order.

Him: I’ll have the risotto please.

Me: I’ll have the chicken wings please!

Him: Chicken wings? Seriously? And wing sauce all over your face?

Me: Hey, we’re no longer on a first date. I can eat chicken wings for dessert if I want to. What did I order on our first date? Like a Cajun salad which I barely ate and a glass of wine or something right?

Him: Probably.

Me: (taps my wine glass). Well, some things never change.

I tend to stay classy to my roots that way.

Monday, May 11, 2009

No, not a child for me, please.

Another fine reason why I am not responsible enough for a child.

Over the weekend, I was in Kansas City.

Went out for a BBQ with Sergio and some friends.

While chatting to this nice lady with two children (who needed a lesson from the fashion department), I see one of my darling friend’s 3 year old run by.

I almost tripped him, to get his attention. (It worked)


Me: Hey babe, remember those gummi bears you were walking around with?
Him: (nods enthusiastically)
Me: Can you go and steal some for me?
Him: How meaw-ney you want? Too? Twee? (as he holds up his fingers to count)
Me: No, kid, Get an entire handful. Two or three ain’t gonna be enough for me! Grab two handfuls and come find me.
Him: (holds up two fists) Okie! I gettit fow you!
Me: Good boy, And if anyone asks, lie to them and say it’s ALL FOR YOU, ok? You can lie this one time. Okay, go.


Feeling pretty har-har funny about the whole situation, I turn back to the nice mom lady and laugh merrily, while she looks at me rather unamused.

Why you ask?

Oh, that’s because the adorable 3 year old immediately turned to her and said (while holding up two fists in the air, mind you):

“Can I stweel too handfools of gummi beaws from your puwse? It’s all fow me, not fow anyone else”

As the 3 year old peeked through her purse, I slowly reached behind me for my glass of wine and excused myself politely while her eyes burnt a hole through the back of my head.

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

Eight lies of a mother

This morning, I called my mom on the way to work for our daily 15 minute chat.


We spoke briefly about the new rug she purchased, then asked me if I had a few minutes to spare.

I was about 3 minutes away from work. But I said yes. 

She told me that she had read a touching short story and held on to it all weekend so she could read it to me first thing Monday morning, if I had the time to listen.

Growing up, I never heard my mother tell me a bedtime story. She had stories, true, but it was not anything out of a book. I don't know what the reason was, but she never really read me anything, ever.

Until today. 

I told her I had all the time.

And so she read me this. 

Slowly, and very clearly, she read:




"EIGHT LIES OF A MOTHER"


The story began when I was a child. I was born as a son of a poor family.
Even for eating, we often got lack of food. Whenever the time for eating, mother often gave me her portion of rice. While she was removing her rice into my bowl, she would say "Eat this rice, son. I'm not hungry".
That was Mother's First Lie.

When I was getting to grow up, the persevering mother gave her spare time for fishing in a river near our house, she hoped that from the fishes she got, she could gave me a little bit nutritious food for my growth. After fishing, she would cook the fishes to be a fresh fish soup, which raised my appetite. While I was eating the soup, mother would sit beside me and eat the rest meat of fish, which was still on the bone of the fish I ate. My heart was touched when I saw it. I then used my chopstick and gave the other fish to her. But she immediately refused it and said "Eat this fish, son. I don't really like fish."
That was Mother's Second Lie.

Then, when I was in Junior High School, to fund my study, mother went to an economic enterprise to bring some used-matches boxes that would be stuck in. It gave her some money for covering our needs. As the winter came, I woke up from my sleep and looked at my mother who was still awoke, supported by a little candlelight and within her perseverance she continued the work of sticking some used-matches box.
I said, "Mother, go to sleep, it's late, tomorrow morning you still have to go for work. "Mother smiled and said "Go to sleep, dear. I'm not tired."
That was Mother's Third Lie.

At the time of final term, mother asked for a leave from her work in order to accompany me. While the daytime was coming and the heat of the sun was starting to shine, the strong and persevering mother waited for me under the heat of the sun's shine for several hours. As the bell rang, which indicated that the final exam had finished, mother immediately welcomed me and poured me a glass of tea that she had prepared before in a cold bottle. The very thick tea was not as thick as my mother's love, which was much thicker. Seeing my mother covering with perspiration, I at once gave her my glass and asked her to drink too. Mother said "Drink, son. I'm not thirsty!".
That was Mother's Fourth Lie.

After the death of my father because of illness, my poor mother had to play her role as a single parent. By held on her former job, she had to fund our needs alone. Our family's life was more complicated. No days without sufferance. Seeing our family's condition that was getting worse, there was a nice uncle who lived near my house came to help us, either in a big problem and a small problem. Our other neighbors who lived next to us saw that our family's life was so unfortunate, they often advised my mother to marry again. But mother, who was stubborn, didn't care to their advice, she said "I don't need love."
That was Mother's Fifth Lie.

After I had finished my study and then got a job, it was the time for my old mother to retire. But she didn't want to; she was sincere to go to the marketplace every morning, just to sell some vegetable for fulfilling her needs. I, who worked in the other city, often sent her some money to help her in fulfilling her needs, but she was stubborn for not accepting the money. She even sent the money back to me. She said "I have enough money."
That was Mother's Sixth Lie.

After graduated from Bachelor Degree, I then continued my study to Master Degree. I took the degree, which was funded by a company through a scholarship program, from a famous University in America . I finally worked in the company. Within a quite high salary, I intended to take my mother to enjoy her life in America. But my lovely mother didn't want to bother her son, she said to me "I'm not used to."
That was Mother's Seventh Lie.

After entering her old age, mother got a flank cancer and had to be hospitalized. I, who lived in miles away and across the ocean, directly went home to visit my dearest mother. She lied down in weakness on her bed after having an operation.
Mother, who looked so old, was staring at me in deep yearn. She tried to spread her smile on her face, even it looked so stiff because of the disease she held out. It was clear enough to see how the disease broke my mother's body, thus she looked so weak and thin.
I stared at my mother within tears flowing on my face. My heart was hurt, so hurt, seeing my mother on that condition. But mother, with her strength, said "Don't cry, my dear. I'm not in pain."
That was Mother's Eight Lie.

After saying her eighth lie, She closed her eyes forever.

I cried a little bit after she was done.

Sunday, May 3, 2009

growing today from her advise yesterday

Dear Mom,


Since mother's day is just around the corner, I would like to tell you how much I appreciate all the good things you taught me in life, to mold me into the person I am today. 

And while you and I are both perfectly happy with the turnout of your upbringing, I think you might find some humor in how I misinterpreted your wise teachings back when I was younger.

For example, these are a few things you taught me:

1. Don't be reckless with money for no reason, and try to get into the habit of saving money.
- Remember the time when I was 14 and you and I went out for lunch and then I decided to take you to the store to get some makeup, and showed you how I could "save money and not spend recklessly" by stealing the make up? I didn't understand back then why you freaked out and drug me out of the store while yelling at me at the top of your lungs, but mom, now I do. As I got older, I realized how expensive it was to bail someone out of jail. You must have been able to see the future mom. You and your superpowers amaze me.

2. Needs vs. Wants- To get over your excessive "wants", you should get all your wants until you hit the point where you have no desire for it anymore.
- That was the best advise you ever gave me. Never deprive yourself of something you want, rather do it so much that you get so sick of it and never find the need for it. Remember when I was 12 years old and you called me on the way back from shopping and asked me what I wanted to eat, and I told you I was really craving a Big Mac?
 
Also, remember how every night for dinner after that you got me Big Macs? Remember how I also got borderline obese after that, and you told me it was "just baby weight"? Yeah. It must have worked because I can't look at another Big Mac today (while sober) without thinking of the time I won the Big Mac eating competition in grade school and almost throwing up shortly there after.

However I did realize, as I got older, the above advise could not be used for shoe purchases and wine consumption. I thought I would overdose myself by continuously purchasing shoes until I got sick of them, but it backfired and caused an addiction instead. I won't go into details on the wine consumption, but I think you get the idea. 

3. Because you are a messy person, you need to master the art of cleaning up the house in 3 minutes flat before company shows up at your front door.
- I learnt along time ago how to shove mail into kitchen drawers,  sweep dust under rugs, and hide large items under beds and covering the evidence with a giant comforter.  You were never as messy as I was- I just took clutter to the highest extreme. 

Unfortunately, mom,  this did not come in handy when I grew older. For a second there, I thought I had to become a neater person, until I found the best cure to this problem.

I moved in with a super neat boy instead. Bonus. 

4. No matter how lazy you are, do not leave the house without looking good. You never know who's looking at you.
- Somehow or another I thought that meant I was going to walk in a grocery store at age 16 looking all made up and dressed pretty and either Prince William, Jon Bon Jovi, or Matthew Lawrence was going to miraculously show up, fall in love with me, and marry me.

Well. That didn't happen. I finally gave up that dream when Sergio and I moved in together and got a joint credit card. (Which wasn't that very long ago, but shut up, a girl can hope)

So mom, for mother's day- I wanted to let you know that I turned out pretty ok thanks to you. And that I still remember all the small memories we had when I was younger. It puts a smile on my face every time I think of them.

Happy mum's day.
 


Monday, April 27, 2009

relationship at 10.

Over the weekend, I came to terms that my alcohol tolerance had quadrupled when I finished off the entire bottle of wine at a friend’s house party that turned into an older frat party. The reason why I say older frat party, is because no one was doing keg stands and the wine I drank came from a bottle and not a box, thank you very much. Classy does tend to come with age, sometimes.

Towards the end of the night I found myself out of wine, and having a rather grown up conversation with a real life 10 year old boy (someone’s kiddo) after he wowed the crowd with his break dancing moves. I mean, I was having enough problems balancing in my brand new heels and this boy was all sorts of breaking it down.

Now let me tell you something about an almost 30 year old who has no filters and loves her wine and shoes having a conversation with a 10 year old- It’s a weird picture. After a while it’s like, what do you say to the kid? How was school yesterday? This kid is break dancing at midnight- is he really going to stop and have a pleasant chat about school and homework and who his favorite teacher is?

Seriously?

So I asked him what anyone who had dying brain cells would typically ask.

Me: So… you have a girlfriend?
Him: Yeah.
Me: Really? You’re like, 10!
Him: So?
Me: So nothing. Is she your first girlfriend?
Him: No I had another one before this.

(Are you amused by this? Because I was, let me tell you that)

Me: You had another girlfriend before this??
Him: Yeah, but we broke up.
Me: Really. Why?
Him: She was too psychotic.
Me: Well, at least you're learning now. Women don’t tend to get psychotic until they’re about.. 16. And then it just gets worse with age.
Him: (shoots me a weird look)
Me: (thinks: you’re probably going to grow up to be an insensitive jerk-off at times too, but lets focus on your youth and innocence now, shall we?)
Him: Well, she’s old news and I have a new one now.
Me: Yeah? How long have you been going out with your girlfriend? For like, a week or something?
Him: No, we have been together for 3 years.

…..

I could have fallen off my chair. Just then, my friend walked by and I looked at her blankly and said:

Me: This 10 year old kid’s relationship lasted longer than my previous very adult marriage.

I'm telling you. 3 main things can ruin a marriage- Sex, Money, and Meddling In-Laws.

And right now I would like to think that kid is happy without any of these 3 things. For now, at least.

Thursday, April 16, 2009

lending a hand, friend.

Even though I have been VERY busy working away, I have somehow found myself time to be a personal assistant to my mother who happens to live a few continents away and on a 13 hour time zone difference.

The task?

To find a new rug for her living room.

The store?

IKEA.

Food for thought- The IKEA in Malaysia and the IKEA in Dallas have IDENTICAL products at a different price.

However, my mom thinks she is incapable of picking out a decent rug and has bestowed the task upon me.

Another food for thought- Somehow or another my mother thinks I earn a living as an interior decorator.

(I don’t)

In fact I can barely match a non functioning vase with a non functioning book on a coffee table to save my life. That said, I live in a pretty pimped out pad that is decorated with Beatles art, odd shaped objects, splashes of red and white paired with dark wood, and it looks pretty sassy, to be honest- but it was all Sergio’s handy work.

Which in turn- gives me another reason why I will stay with him forever.

Today, I also realized a fine line between being a friend, caring about someone’s welfare, and offering a hand to something that is not my business.

By nature, I am one who is notorious for knowing if something is wrong with people around me. The thing is, even though you may not know a person, there will be one moment in time where you see them at their greatest joy and know what level of happiness they are capable of. In a way, you keep them at that standard, and when they show any signs that prove otherwise, you know something is wrong.

Also by nature, I am one who is quick to lend an ear. Regardless of who you are- male-female-old-young-race or religion – If you feel like talking, I will listen. Sometimes, I have constructive things to say. Sometimes, I tell them what they are doing is right. Sometimes, I tell them to stop doing hurtful things to people. Sometimes, I tell them I don’t know how to offer any advise in that situation. Sometimes, I tell them that I am not the right person to talk to on a subject I know nothing about. Sometimes, it comes across like I’m getting into things that aren’t my business to begin with, even with the purest intentions.

I mean, lets be honest- who knows everything?

But I think for everyone I've talked to, I find myself repeating the same thing over and over again- At the end of the day, you need to be happy without thinking that running away or giving up will give you happiness. This relates to work, relationships, marriages, family, and friends.

Happiness that you once had can easily be regained by tracing back your steps to the day you started getting complacent and forgot the little things in life that made you smile.

(I hope people remember that from time to time)