Friday 14 June 2013

The Food Enthusiast

Firstly, I'm no food enthusiast. I just like the sound of the word en-thoo-zee-uhst. I'm just a plain old food junkie. Well, for starters, I think I have an insatiable interest in food, which qualifies me as a junkie, particularly desserts. My boyfriend often mocks the way I passionately describe any good food I just ate. If only I could explain about my job in the same manner, my boss would be ecstatic.

For the past week, I've had several rounds of satay, chicken porridge and 'burger-tepi-jalan'. Not your healthiest choice, but since I'm feeling the pinch lately, cheap food has never tasted so good!

Enough ramblings for now. Later!

Tuesday 11 June 2013

Kau Bila?? (When's Your Turn??)

It is nothing but a norm when an Asian mother (particularly this one is Malaysian) asks her unmarried 3-decade-ish-year old daughter "Do you have a boyfriend?", "Does your boyfriend want to marry you?" and in times of desperation, due to peer pressure (read: office makciks, relatives, neighbours and probably the nosy old lady who owns the sundry shop down the street) might result in the issuance of a memorandum that reads "If the current one runs off due to any circumstances, please accept the next man who asks your hand in marriage. Failure to comply will result in an ARRANGED marriage. This is your last warning. Love; Queen Mother."

Yes, I know Queen Mother only has my best interests at heart. But which man on earth would wanna marry at gunpoint, so to speak? Zilch! Neither would I, if I were a dude! Don't make me ask him, and neither should any of you. 

"Don't you wanna get married and have kids?" they wonder. Over, and over, and over again.

Sigh. Well of course I do.

If only marriage was as easy as buying pumps at Charles & Keith, don't you think I would be wrestling with a bus-load of kids I call "my children" by now? And because raising a child costs an arm and a leg nowadays, I would probably depict the life of 'The Old Woman Who Lived In A Shoe', having so many children, I wouldn't know what to do. I feed them with broth, minus the bread, and whip them them all soundly, and scream "Go straight to bed!".

The old woman is missing a husband. I'm pretty sure he ran off, obviously not with the spoon, but he definitely made an exit. Or maybe, just maybe, for the sake of positive thinkers out there, he deserves the benefit of the doubt. His absence [in this nursery rhyme] is merely because he cashed in his chips. How sad.

Anyway, steering back on course, I'm in between complaining and making a moo-point here.
People, you've got to stop throwing me the "Bila lagi?" or "Kau bila?" questions. I know not the answers.

How about making doa for me, for a change? That will definitely render some answers to your calamitous questions. :)


Monday 10 June 2013

When They Call You Fat

Indeed, I am an emotional turd.

I am moved by the slightest acts of kindness. I become sappy every time I watch a video of a dog rescuing its owner from under a heap of rubble caused by an earthquake. My eyes glistened with tears, after watching a 12-minute video on YouTube about a former PlayBoy Bunny who embraced Islam. Her story is overwhelmingly inspiring.

I cause my nose to clog with mucus when I watch movies like The Pursuit of Happyness, Titanic, The Holiday, He's Just Not That Into You, Valentine's Day... the list goes on for a mile, but I think you already get the idea by now.

Sometimes the smallest of things throw me down in the dumps, or rile me up like Chewbacca being stabbed in the eye with a chopstick. Mockery on physical appearance get's me flipping my wig. I reach boiling point in less than 10 seconds; whether it is aimed at me or at another individual.

Apparently we live in a world that highly endorses fair porcelain skin, dimple-free thighs, washboard abs, a perfect set of pearly whites, long silky hair and having lots of junk in your trunk scores you more points, hence throwing personality to the back seat. Too often the word 'fat' or having dark skin exude a negative connotation, constantly used to revile women (well, most of the time). Sad, but true.

I'm not saying that I don't scan for eye-soothing qualities in a guy, I do, of course. But I just keep physical attributes that I don't fancy to myself (Well, I try, very hard. Sometimes it slips from my mouth, only to a close friend). OK. Go ahead, judge me. We're all judgmental, aren't we?

And I'm not implying that one shouldn't lose weight or exponentially morph into a whale. By all means, lose weight to stay healthy, to live longer, to be able to catch up with your impish grandkids when you age, but not to please the world. On a spiritual note, God doesn't care if you have a ripped body. Cliche indeed, He only sees the beauty inside His Believers. But we humans just find it very difficult to glue that holy fact to our minds.

The physical-name-calling, will there ever be an end to it? I doubt it, and that sucks. You can't stop someone from calling you fat, or fish-lips or oinky-nose. Probably they are just insecure about themselves, which resort them in mocking other people, and it makes them feel elated, in an ill-mannered way.

It's a cruel world they say, but there's always more good than bad in it.  There are more kindhearted people then there are of those with a beastly demeanor.

So, I guess I'm calling off my table-flipping agenda and celebrate those who bring joy to this world and to my life instead. Cheers to that. :)

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