Define Me, If You Can

During an interview once, I was asked... "What are your social skills like?"
A question that kind of threw me off-guard. I replied by saying, "Well, I get along fine with people. I don't have a problem socialising with others." Brilliant, right? I finished off this brilliant answer with..."My friends seem to like me just fine." Which earned me some laughs.
Anyhoo... a few more questions followed.
I read one of ScoMan's recent posts - hang on, I have a relevant point even though it may seem random. It was about the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator, which you can read here. So, I thought I'd take it as well. Click here to take it. Apparently, I am an INFP type - an Introverted, Intuitive, Feeling, Perceiving type. I am a...

• moderately expressed introvert
  
• slightly expressed intuitive personality
  
• distinctively expressed feeling personality
  
• slightly expressed perceiving personality

But what does it all mean?
It means I'm a healer, according to D. Keirsey.
"Healers present a calm and serene face to the world, and can seem shy, even distant around others. But inside they're anything but serene, having a capacity for personal caring rarely found in the other types. Healers care deeply about the inner life of a few special persons, or about a favorite cause in the world at large. And their great passion is to heal the conflicts that trouble individuals, or that divide groups, and thus to bring wholeness, or health, to themselves, their loved ones, and their community."

The INFP profile is...

Introverted Feeling

INFPs live primarily in a rich inner world of introverted Feeling. Being inward-turning, the natural attraction is away from world and toward essence and ideal. This introversion of dominant Feeling, receiving its data from extraverted intuition, must be the source of the quixotic nature of these usually gentle beings. Feeling is caught in the approach- avoidance bind between concern both for people and for All Creatures Great and Small, and a psycho-magnetic repulsion from the same. The "object," be it homo sapiens or a mere representation of an organism, is valued only to the degree that the object contains some measure of the inner Essence or greater Good. Doing a good deed, for example, may provide intrinsic satisfaction which is only secondary to the greater good of striking a blow against Man's Inhumanity to Mankind.

Extraverted iNtuition

Extraverted intuition faces outward, greeting the world on behalf of Feeling. What the observer usually sees is creativity with implied good will. Intuition spawns this type's philosophical bent and strengthens pattern perception. It combines as auxiliary with introverted Feeling and gives rise to unusual skill in both character development and fluency with language--a sound basis for the development of literary facility. If INTPs aspire to word mechanics, INFPs would be verbal artists.

Introverted Sensing

Sensing is introverted and often invisible. This stealth function in the third position gives INFPs a natural inclination toward absent- mindedness and other-worldliness, however, Feeling's strong people awareness provides a balancing, mitigating effect. This introverted Sensing is somewhat categorical, a subdued version of SJ sensing. In the third position, however, it is easily overridden by the stronger functions.

Extraverted Thinking

The INFP may turn to inferior extraverted Thinking for help in focusing on externals and for closure. INFPs can even masquerade in their ESTJ business suit, but not without expending considerable energy. The inferior, problematic nature of Extraverted Thinking is its lack of context and proportion. Single impersonal facts may loom large or attain higher priority than more salient principles which are all but overlooked.

It seems William Shakespeare was an INFP. Could this mean that I am destined to be the next Shakespeare? I wish.

Anyway, I wish that next time someone asks me to tell them about myself, I can just print out the results of this test and tell them to read for themselves. They'd probably kick me right out of the interview if I did that.

Fire! Fire!

True story.

This happened when I was in my final year as a student in Swansea.

I was happily minding my own business [gasp, gasp, yes, I can mind my own business!], and playing Solitaire on my laptop [now, dead, may its pieces rest in peace].

I look out the window and what do I see?

Thick, almost-black smoke coming from the neighbour's house.
Now, any normal person would jump out of that chair and run outside to see what was going on.
Not me.
Oh, no. I continued to stare out that window for a few more minutes.
I think I was waiting for one of my housemates to run down the stairs screaming.
Oh, but wait. Only three bedrooms face the back garden - mine, the room directly above mine and the room at the back of the house. And those two were never in anyway.
So, I slowly got out of that chair and walked [not run] to the back garden to check if there really was a fire.
Yes, there was a huge fire. Huh.
So, I walked quickly back to my room and looked out the window again. Yup, smoke still there.
Now, this is where I get incredibly silly. I still can't believe I did what I did. I was trying to decide what to take with me in case the fire spread and burned down our house. Laptop, of course and passport and my purse.
The essentials, right?
Then, I had this thought. If indeed the house burned down, I wanted to make sure I had a nice outfit on [if it were to be the only outfit I saved]. So I changed. All the while the smoke is still billowing outside my window.
Although nobody seems to be doing anything about it. The neighbours didn't seem to be running around trying to put out the fire, which confused me.
So I ran up to my housemate's room and told her about the fire.
What did she do?
She came downstairs with me, looked at it... and laughed.
Because of course, it was only a bonfire. They were burning rubbish or wood or whatever.
I was burning too... with embarrassment.
But hey, if you can't laugh at yourself, you're missing out on a lot of laughter, right?

P/S Just a little something to keep you entertained while I'm away finishing this thing I'm working on, which is really great. I have no idea when it will be finished though as my partner and I are really loving it and stretching it out. Hopefully, you'll love it as much as we're loving it.

And The Verdict Is... Guilty!

Okay, confess. How many of you have signed up or joined something or just committed yourselves to a cause, but didn't follow through?

I know I'm guilty of doing just that on many, many counts.

When I was a little girl, I wanted to join ballet.

So, ballet classes it was.

I went to the first class, but sat by the side because I wanted to 'watch and learn' first.

I went to the second class, did about 10 minutes, before giving up and crying.

I never went to that third class.

When I was about 10, I really liked art.

So, my parents signed me up for art classes.

We went to the school, my parents paid for my lessons, and when they were about to leave, I started sobbing and wanted to go with them.

I held onto my mother's leg and refused to let go.

They had to go back in and get a refund.

I sobbed all the way home and never went to a single art class.

When I was 18, I signed up for a driving course.

I paid the first payment.

I never went.

When I was in my final year in Swansea, I decided to join Aikido.

I signed up with the Aikido Club and paid my membership fees.

I was so excited at the idea of learning an art of self-defense.

In my head, I was imagining myself as Kasumi from D.O.A. Or as Uma Thurman in Kill Bill.

I didn't go to even one lesson.

So, guilty, guilty, guilty, guilty.

That's not including all the let's-ditch-the-chocolates-cakes-and-crisps-and-be-healthy plans that I've [barely] started and quit within days.

*sigh* I'm working on this though. No, really, I am.

Two Versions, Same Story

According to astrology.com, I am...

Your Sample Reading

Section 1: How You Approach Life and How You Appear To Others

Ferociously proud and somewhat vain, you like to be impressive and to be seen as Somebody Special. You are not timid, meek, or self-effacing, and are rarely content being in the background or in the subordinate position. You are a natural leader, and do not take orders from others very well. You must have something of your own, something creative - be it a business, a project, a home or whatever - that you can develop and manage according to your own will and vision. Whatever you do, you do it in a unique, dramatic, individual way. You like to put your own personal stamp on it.

Section 2: The Inner You: Your Real Motivation

Quiet, deep, emotionally complex and intensely private, you are not a person who is easy to get to know and understand. You are extremely sensitive but disinclined to show it, and you allow only a special few into your inner world. Like a wary animal, you are cautious and mistrustful of those you do not know until you "sniff them out". You are very, very instinctive and intuitive. You usually have a strong, immediate gut reaction to people, even though you may be unable to clearly articulate why you feel as you do. Your feelings and perceptions go deeper than words.

According to myself, I am...

Section 1: How You Approach Life and How You Appear To Others

Ferociously proud and very vain, I like to be seen as Somebody Special [as if you would not?]. I am sometimes timid, meek, or self-effacing, and am perfectly content being in the background or in the subordinate position [sometimes]. I do not know if I am a natural leader, but I do not have any problems taking orders from others [sometimes, depends on who's asking and how they're asking]. I like to have something of my own, something creative - be it a business, a project, a home, a blog, or whatever - that I can develop and manage according to my own will and vision [read: laziness]. Whatever I do, I do it in my individual way [unless otherwise instructed]. I like to go with my own flow, and I hate outside pressure.

Section 2: The Inner You: Your Real Motivation

I am sometimes quiet, occasionally deep, always emotionally complex and mostly intensely private, but I am not a person that hard to get to know but sometimes difficult to understand. I am extremely sensitive but [sometimes] disinclined to show it, and I allow only a special few into my inner world. I am mostly cautious but hardly ever mistrustful of those I do not know. I do not know if I am very, very instinctive and intuitive. I do usually have a strong, immediate gut reaction to people, sometimes wrongly, sometimes justifiably, even though I may be unable to clearly articulate why I feel as I do. My feelings and perceptions go deeper than words because I am sometimes at a loss for words.

There it is. I'm putting my personal stamp on my astrology report. Oh, crap. Does this mean that that's the more accurate version?

Namanamanamana... NaBloPoMo

I decided to join in the frenzy of NaBloPoMo. It will give me that little extra motivation to work a little harder on my writing. Or at least, give me something else to do besides eating chocolates and watching The Simpsons reruns.

On that note, I thought I'd make some other changes as well [I make resolutions on my birthday, not on New Year's. My birthday is my New Year's]. I bought a skipping rope to motivate myself to exercise more, and get fit. My friends and I have also decided to join a dance class and a kick-boxing class, which should be good to burn off any excess shopping cravings.

I'll probably be too exhausted to hit the shops after the classes. So, that takes care of getting fitter and spending less. Taking part in NaBloPoMo should take care of my resolution to write more. So, that leaves the finding a suitable job bit. Which I'm also working on.

Hah. 27-year old me will be proud to face the world next year because of all the things 26-year old me will achieve this coming year. Get ready! I'm... coming... out... [Not that coming out.]

First, to sleep and get a good night's rest. Oh, and I hope I don't collapse after 5 minutes of kick-boxing.

One Two... Buckle My Shoe... Twenty Six... Time For A Remix...

   It's the eve of the day that will mark the beginning of my 26th year on our little planet. Looking back to my quarter-of-a-century birthday, nothing much has really changed over the course of the year. 

   Everything is pretty much the same as it was a year ago. Oh, I have my blog now. And I am starting to write more. Plus, I've got way more shoes now that I did this time last year. My hairstyle's different and I got more presents this year [Yes, I know it's not my birthday yet. But I've got a few presents already - most of my birthday wish list has been fulfilled - yey!]. Oh, I also have my driver's license now.

   But apart from that, I still shop too much and eat way too many chocolates. *sigh* And I am still, still searching for a suitable job. I guess I just envisioned that things would be different by the time this day rolled around. Every time I have a birthday, I imagine what life would be like for me come the following birthday. And for my 26th, I was supposed to already be working and confidently driving myself around, plus some other things.

   *sigh* At least, I'll be job-hunting with great hair and yummy shoes now.

   Here's to the beginning of my 26th year! 

Tag! You're it!

I've been tagged by Erin in a meme!

So, here goes...

The Rules of Tag are:

1. You link the person that tagged you.
2. You post the rules on your blog.
3. You share six non-important things/habits/quirks about yourself.
4. You tag six random people at the end of your post by linking to their blogs.
5. Then, you let each random person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their website.

Here we go...
My 6 things are:

1. I love to watch cartoons. Just love them. From the classics like 'Jem and The Holograms' to Mickey Mouse and Disney movies. 'Beauty and The Beast'? Yes, please!
2. I like cats, but only from a distance. I don't know why because I used to have one when I was younger, and I never got scratched or anything like that, but I just panic when one gets too near to me.
3. I used to want to be a dentist. Simply because I was asked what I wanted to be when I grew up by my teacher when I was 10, and I thought 'dentist' was a suitably impressive answer. I grew out of that when I was 14.
4. My Yahoo Messenger is giving me problems right now and is refusing to be clicked. This is extremely annoying as I want to chat to my best friend, who is living in London.
5. Weirdly enough, I actually like a bit of turbulence on the plane. It feels like I'm on a roller-coaster or something. However, when I'm actually asked if I would like to go on a roller-coaster, I freak out and say no.
6. I like black olives but dislike the green ones.
   

Now, I will tag 6 people...

Eim, Nicole, Maryam, Audrea, Shannon Jay, Dzofeer.

Finally, to let them know that they've been Tagged!
Try it!

It's Grumpy Bear! Where are the rest of the Care Bear family?

   This is why I should not be allowed to be on my own. 

   [Without a book. If there are books around, I should be fine enough to be left on my own. Well, most of the time anyway.]

   I get all mopey and emotional. I listen to songs on my phone [mostly sappy loveyouforeverdon'tleavemeeversorryforbeingstupid songs], and I start getting into the song.

   I imagine it's me the singer is singing about [my vanity knows no limits], and then my imagination goes yippeee-we're-free-to-skyrocket-out-of-here. Next thing I know, I'm dressed in a pink trench coat and boots, walking down a snowy street, lugging LV luggage [a la J.Lo in All I Have].

   This will usually be followed by an extremely complicated plot [all concocted by my hyperactive brain], accompanied by appropriately dramatic dialogue. Days Of Our Lives has nothing on me. If I'd actually written down any of this stuff, I probably would have enough material for 5 books that are worthy of Mills & Boon fame.

   Don't mind me. I'm just a bit grumpy from lack of sleep. And the fact that I tried on 6 pairs of gorgeous shoes and none of them fit [no size, looked awful on feet, etc.].

Make A Wish!

It's that time of the year again. The day I wait for eagerly starting from 6 months prior to the date. Tra la la la la... it's my birthday and I'll celebrate if I want to, celebrate if I want to. And I do want to! [Well, I will in a couple of weeks.]

I love birthdays. I love my little button that proclaims, "Birthday Girl 24 Today!" I shall forever remain 24 thanks to my magic button.

This extreme enthusiasm and joy I hold for my birthday subsequently causes great stress to my friends.

A week before my birthday, I would usually start planning what to do on the day.

A week before my birthday, my friends start stressing.

Now, don't get me wrong. I never expect a mountain of presents or loads of fuss [read: I would so love a surprise party.], but I just want to celebrate my special day with friends and loved ones.

[Mountain of presents optional, but gladly welcomed.]

My 23rd birthday was interesting, to say the least. It started at midnight when my housemates knocked on my bedroom door and led me to the kitchen [which was just next to my room, anyway].

They had a cake waiting for me with those damn trick candles. Then they opened the kitchen door and told me to look outside. I was like a child, excited and naive. While I was eagerly peeking outside [presents?], I got pelted with water balloons. Unfortunately, they hadn't quite filled the balloons with enough water and those things just would not burst. And they hurt! Gaaahhh.

But then it was present time and all was forgiven. I got a huge box of chocolates from one housemate [which made me gain 5 pounds, thank you very much!] and an assortment of little gifts from another [Huge mug with bits of chocolate and a stuffed toy and a gorgeous bracelet - I love those kinds of presents. Once, I got 3 bars of chocolates, a pair of earrings, a mini-stamp kit, a necklace, a little notebook and a few more things, from a friend. I loved dipping my hand in that paper bag, the presents seemed endless!]

After cake time, it was time for bed. It was Eid the next day, so I wanted an early night.

The next morning I woke up and desperately needed the bathroom. I ran to my door and yanked it open. Or rather, tried to yank it open. It only yielded a couple of inches. I tried again. Same result. I peeked through that tiny gap and saw a string tied to my door from the staircase. Ah, that's why I couldn't get the door open.

The staircase looked lovely though, with balloons and a banner. I looked in the direction of the kitchen and saw my housemate calmly sitting at the table, drinking tea. She was trying not to laugh. I was yanking and pulling at the door and calling out to her. She pretended not to hear me.

Then, thankfully, thankfully, the string gave way. I ran up the stairs to the bathroom and yelled out that I'd get her later.

Anyway, it was a lovely day, because of my lovely housemates. They knew how important my birthday is to me, and they went to all that effort to make sure I had a memorable day.

Thanks, girls! Love you all, wherever you may be now!

Now... to plan the big 2-6.

Tubular-shaped Thing?

This is from The Better Midler Show. One episode, she was supposed to take Stevie Wonder out to lunch. She forgot to book a suitably fancy restaurant and ended up in her daughter's high school cafeteria. She got her daughter to pretend to be a waitress, and when Stevie asked what the specials of the day were, her daughter answered... "Some tubular thing with sauce" [or something like that]. Of course, he knew all along where they were but he was just playing along.
Anyhoo, that completely cracked me up.
That led me to thinking about how I would describe other things. Such as spaghetti. Long strands of processed durum? Television - an electronic cube with moving images and sounds. Roast duck - roast poultry of the swimming variety?
That led me to thinking [See how my mind works? And people wonder why I'm so exhausted doing nothing all day. They see me and they think I'm doing nothing. Fact is, I think - A LOT.] about one of the most commonly asked questions - HOW WOULD YOU DESCRIBE YOURSELF? I hated that question in school, and I hate it now. I always felt so pressured to answer that. I have a limited amount of time, which meant a limited amount of words, to describe myself.
Usually, it was the usual boring spiel of "I'm XX years old. I have 3 sisters and 1 brother. I like to read and write. My ambition is to be a XXXXX someday." Now, I've pretty much got it down to "a chronic chocoholic, a wannabe writer, a pretend princess, a devoted shopaholic, a professional daydreamer and a superb sleeper - masquerading as an adult".
Hmm... that's still not really me, though.

100 Things About Me... [Part 1]

   Because I got tagged to do this.

1. 
   
2. 
   
3. 
   
4. 
   
5. 
   
6. 
   
7. 
   
8. 
   
9. 
   
10. 
    

   Orang-orang yang bijaksana dapat melihatnya. Kalau saudara / saudari antara golongan bijaksana, saudara / saudari tidak akan menghadapi masalah membacanya.

   Sekian, terima kasih.

  [English translation: Wise / intelligent people will be able to see it. If you are one of these wise and intelligent people, then you should have no problem reading it. Thank you.]

   For those who don't understand this line / joke, it's based on a really famous, really funny Malay black and while film called Nujum Pak Belalang.

Nice Girls Finish Last?

Me, when I was 15.
Typical schoolgirl, nothing special. Did not do anything spectacular, but never got into major trouble either.
I was just cruising along. I did break a few little rules along the way, like eating in class during break when you're supposed to be downstairs in the school canteen.
But sometimes I just can't be bothered.
So, there I was eating some chicken nuggets or whatever and a 'friend', who was a prefect saw me and came in. I asked her if she wanted some and she said sure.
Then she left the room and returned with another prefect to rat me out.
She got praise [and my damn nuggets], and walked away with a smug smile.
I got a scolding, and detention [and lost my damn nuggets to her].
Thanks to her, I spent the next lunch break picking up rubbish around the school compound. In a horrifying blue apron thingy.
Can we say b-i-t-c-h?

Me, when I was 20.
I got accepted and university and went to UK. It was my first time there, and my first time away from my family. I was terrified and upset enough as it was.
Upon arrival, a very nice lady from a volunteer organisation [that specifically welcomes international students at the airport] showed me around.
I had arrived at Heathrow and needed to get a coach to Swansea.
A man cuts in front of me in the queue and tells me that he just needed to ask something from the lady at the counter.
I said sure, go ahead.
He bought the last ticket to Swansea on the coach I wanted.
He got to go off.
I got a ticket for the noon coach [it was 7 a.m. when I arrived].
I was trying not to cry while sitting on the bench all alone, waiting for that bus to take me to Swansea. [The bus which, by the way, broke down outside of Swansea and we had to switch buses. At this point, I was openly crying. I was miserable and afraid I would not reach my accommodation in time for the 5 p.m. deadline. Plus, it was that time of the month. I know, nice.]
To this day, I still feel like breaking the liar's nose.
Unfair?
Yes, it was.

So, do nice girls finish last? I don't think so. But even if we do, at least we get to keep our dignity [which is not at all comforting when you're sitting alone on a bench for 5 hours]. Lesson learned, dignity still in place.

Now I'm a nice girl who stands up for herself. Hurrah!

Lost & Found? I Seem To Have Lost My Life

Ring... riiiiinnng... riiiiiinnngggg...

Hello?

What the fiddlesticks do you think you're doing?!?

Erm... sorry?

Well, you should be sorry!

Who is this?

This is your life calling. You seriously have no clue what you're doing, do you?

Erm... no?

Well, just get out there and do something!

I am! I am!

Well, do better! You're not wasting me any longer!

Okay! Sheeessshhh..

Let me tell you about The Plan. The Plan was...

1. Graduate from university by 22.
2. Work for a couple of years.
3. Get married by 24.
4. Have a successful career for a couple more years.
5. Have my first baby by 26.
6. Be a stay at home mom or work from home.
7. Go back to work or become published author by 28.
8. And so on... have successful career... make loads of money... write loads of books... travel the world with my adoring husband... have adorable children... basically...
9. Have the perfect life.

That was The Plan [concocted when I was a naive 18-year old]. Now, you know what they say about the best laid plans of mice and men...

This is The Life.

1. Finish university at 23.
2. Did volunteer work for one year.
3. Came back to Malaysia before my 25th birthday.
4. Will be celebrating my 26th birthday soon and am still looking for a job.
5. Still trying to land that writing job.

*sigh*

I will be formulating a new plan soon, codename: Phase 2 Of My Life. It might include world domination. Would anyone like to join me?

Wear Your Heart On Your Sleeve, Your Words On Your Tee

I don't know why, but I just love slogan tees. Sure I get offended when people stare at my chest [how dare they stare, how rude!], but I simply adore them anyway.
I have one that says "It's Not The Style, It's The Content. And I'm Content With My Style", which I totally identify with. I have another one that says "Waste Your Life. Be An Artist", the irony of which I find amusing. My absolute favourite is the baby blue one that says "I'm A Nerd", which I think sums me up nicely. Sure, the graphics on it are of pastel-coloured baby monsters sitting around on giant electronic equipment with dollar signs [which I still can't figure out how exactly it relates to nerds], but it's just adorable.
I even get them for 'Him'. I wish I had one for all the different moods I'm in [but I don't think there are enough tees in the world to cover that].
But the ones I have will do nicely for now.
So, according to my tees, I am a nerdy artist [or artistic nerd?], who's content with her style, and life, even though she may be wasting it.
If I had one for what I'm feeling right now, it would say, "Sleepy Blogger Waiting For A Call From Someone Who Will Get In Trouble If He Doesn't Call Soon."

My Life, One Chapter At A Time; Or, Dear Diary

Hi.

I don't know what's wrong with me. Lately, I seem to be making mistake after mistake. Like a snail, instead of leaving behind a trail of slime [gross], I'm leaving behind a trail of mistakes.

Today the family and I went out for dinner. The food was not exactly brilliant, but we had a nice time anyway. We went home after that, but before we left, I went to pay the parking ticket at the machine.

My mom came over to give me the money. One of the notes was rejected, so my mom was trying to put in another note. I was busy trying to dig out my car keys from my bag, whose contents would put Barney's magical bag to shame [if you watch Barney, you'll know what I mean - I've babysat the nieces and nephews plenty of times and Barney makes me want to shoot myself].

Anyway, we went back to the car. In the car, mom asked for the ticket. I'd assumed she'd taken it as I walked away before her. To sum it up, she thought I had it, I didn't, parents got pissed, brother went to look for it, it wasn't at the machine obviously, had to pay RM25 for a lost ticket. *sigh*

I couldn't even remember to take a parking ticket, which I'd already paid for, out of the machine. I don't know where my head is at these days. *sigh* Can you believe they let me help out a student with disabilities for a year?

The madness of it all.

Just a note...

I'm going away with the family for a short Eid break! Yey, yey! I so need to get out of KL. City life doesn't suit me any longer. More and more I find myself yearning for the peaceful pace and fresh air of Swansea.

Anyway, I'll be leaving on 30/9 and will be back on 6/10. There will still be a couple of posts during this time, though, as I've scheduled a few posts already. [I promised myself I would write something everyday so... I'm going to keep that promise to myself, by writing a week's worth of posts beforehand.]

We'll be going to Johor for the first day of Eid, so, yeay! Food! Then it's off to Cameron Highlands where I plan on deluding myself that I'm back in Swansea and enjoy the fresh air. and the scones. Woohoo!

To all my friends, Selamat Hari Raya Aidilfitri. Maaf Zahir dan Batin. Love you all loads and miss you all loads.

To Eja, Farina, Fadzilah, Nurul, Maryam... keep on rocking the raya festivities over there.

Multi-Tasking Wonder Woman

     In the past 5 minutes, I have [been]...

1. dragged myself out of bed
2. brushed my teeth
3. washed my face
4. checked my phone for messages
5. read the messages
6. replied the messages
7. thought about those earrings I saw in the magazine
8. answered a phone call
9. ignored a phone call
10. thought about buying those earrings
11. spoke to my sister
12. asked her to get me those earrings if she's going to the mall
13. argued with my sister about the earrings
14. logged in to my blog
15. checked out my friend's blogs
16. am now posting this blog [which is to be scheduled for tomorrow]
17. still thinking about those earrings
18. starting to get depressed at the thought of him flying off home tonight
19. turned on the TV
20. flipped through a few channels before deciding on Grey's Anatomy 
21. missing Swansea again
22. am still typing while listening to the tv
23. thinking about him
24. thinking about the earrings and how gorgeous they are
25. thinking about him and how gorgeous he is
26. thinking about scones and cream and jam
27. missing him
28. finishing this blog

The Ultimate 'Duh' Moment

A few weeks ago, I went to fetch my sister from school as it was raining heavily. I loved the rain because [1] it's not hot!!!! and [2] it totally reminded me of Swansea and since I'm still homesick for Swansea, that was a nice little reminder.

Anyhoo, so I went to fetch my sister. Was waiting in the car for about 10 minutes, alternating between watching the wipers flick back and forth and looking out for my sister. She finally drips into my car and I drive home.

Once we were in front of the gate, I completely blanked on how to turn my wipers off. Excuse me, what was that all about??? I knew how to change the speed of the wipers, but for the life of me, for just those few minutes, I just could not remember how to turn them off.

I spent what took-way-too-long trying to figure it out. I flicked and turned and twisted, turning on the back wipers in the process and spraying windshield fluid while my sister laughed her a$$ off.

Finally, finally, one of the flicking movements worked and they blessedly stopped.

And so concludes the ultimate 'Duh' moment. I think I deserve applause for that. And for the record, I'm still a 'P' driver, but I'm pretty good on the road. In case you thought I shouldn't be allowed to drive because I didn't know how to turn off my wipers.

Love Thy Thesaurus

   I love 'Friends'. One of my favourite lines from that lovely series, that still makes me laugh even now, comes from that episode when Joey writes a recommendation letter for Chandler and Monica for the adoption. It was when Joey discovered... the thesaurus.

   He was so proud of his letter when he gave it to Chandler and Monica. That's when we find out that 'They are [I can't remember what word he used to replace 'warm'] homosapiens with large aortic pumps." Translation - They are warm people with loving hearts." Classic.

   Now, I love my thesaurus too. It helped me sound intellectual on many of my university assignments. So, in tribute to the thesaurus, I decided to write this blog, Joey-thesaurus-style.

   Somebody who would steer for approximately an hour, equal directions, apiece, solely to visit you for some hours, at what time he's flat drained, has got to be exceedingly partial to you.

   My divine chap executed precisely that for me, purely for the reason that I beseeched him to [since I was emphatically yearning for him to a great extent]. Exaltations!

   I desire to express appreciation to him for being so superb. 

   This is stealing so elongated so I'm bound for concluding it at this juncture.

Crybaby

   I was out with a couple of girl friends tonight and we were just chattering away, talking about everything and nothing, as girls do. I mean, as women do. I just can't seem to be able to refer to myself as a woman, despite having passed that quarter-of-a-century mark.

   Anyway, one of the topics that came out was children. One of the girl's nephew had apparently been crying and refusing to go to play school. The first time he cried, it was apparently because his teacher had pinched him. When it kept on happening, his mother asked him why he didn't want to go, thinking that perhaps the teacher had scolded or pinched him again. His answer was unexpected and surprised his mother. He said, "If I go to school, how will I watch my 'Ultraman'?

   Kids! Love them. The other friend's nephew had to be rushed to the hospital last week because he had somehow managed to stick a piece of Lego up his nose. I remember my sister and cousin doing something similar when they were about 4 or 5. My sister had stuck a peanut up her nose because my cousin had stuck a button up hers. Go figure.

   Back to the nephew who didn't want to go to school. When I heard that little story, I was reminded of a story about when I was starting kindergarten. My mom had put me on the school bus, and when I came home from that first day, I was crying my little eyes out. Apparently, the bus driver had hit me.

   My mom was obviously furious. The next morning, she went up to the bus driver, all ready to do battle. She was all like, "How dare you hit my child. She came home crying to me."

   The bus driver denied this. He said, "I didn't hit her. She fell asleep on the bus, and I shook her shoulder and she started crying!" Poor guy.

   But I was so traumatised that I refused to ride the bus anymore. So, my poor mother had to carry me to school everyday [quite a distance away, I was told] and I would be bawling, begging her not to take me. This happened every day of the week, except for Friday. And that was only because, according to my father, who was laughing hysterically while telling me this, I was asleep when she took me in, and when she picked me up, I was still asleep.

   Old habits die hard. To this day, I still love to sleep. My name is Badriyyah, and I'm a sleep-o-holic. 

   Oh, dear. I've just had another thought. I've been told that however naughty you were as a child, your own child will be 10 times worse. Karma, and all that. Hmm...