My Nemesis, My Archenemy, My Worst Nightmare

Two nights ago, I was lying on my bed, I felt as if I was being watched. There was this really disturbing presence lurking in the dark. I turned on the lights and to my fucking horror!!! There it was, on the ceiling, right above my bed!!! Chee bye lah! Ji bai si liao lah!!

A freaky lizard with half its fucking tail missing! What can be more worst than having the creature I fear most right in the room with me? God, must you play such a cruel prank on me, in the middle of the night?? A friend msn me various methods to bring it to annihilation. Damn, I am not a lousy coward, but this ain’t Fear Factor, I don’t get to win $50 grand for that stunt, so it’s just not worth the serious post-traumatic stress, it would have caused me.

I psycho and hypnotized myself that it wasn’t there, apparently it didn’t really work. I slept very little that night…

My part-time maid came this morning, I didn’t bother to ask if she is afraid of lizards or not, I just pleaded her to hunt the fucker and smash its gut out for me. That fucker went into hiding, my part-time said she didn’t see any lizard at all. After my part-time maid left, I seriously think she must had purposely let the fucker go free, coz she is a vegetarian, how would she kill a living thing? She will just say "Oh-mi-tuo-fo.. san zai..san zai.."

KNNB CCB, if I see the fucker again…. I will…I will…Erm…. I will…lan lan lor…. what to do

Why can’t reptiles, amphibians and all the creepy crawlies just DIE…and be extinct!?

Cinderella’s missing heels

I think I seriously need to locate my head, I suspect that it somehow got detached from my body. My memory is plunging faster than free falling. I am pretty much a goner!

Around the beginning of this month(don’t expect me to remember dates ok), my pair of stupid old heels decided to play me out; the strap from one of them snapped as I was getting off the cab at my office.

I had to make a choice between dragging my feet as if I was crippled, or walked bare-footed and have people staring at me, wondering if I was out of my mind.

Anyway, my kind-hearted co-worker, Nancy, was very sweet, she had an extra pair of heels in her cupboard and she loan it to me. Although I am a size 6.5-7 and she was only a 5, I squeezed my feet in. Because I rather endure the pain than to waste money buying another pair of shoes. (I just came back from KL with 7 brand new pairs, u see)

The next day, I wanna return Nancy her heels, however she was on leave until the following Mon, but I was to fly out to Manila on the day after. So I think, I had passed Nancy’s heels to someone I am closer to in the office and ask her to pass Nancy her heels when she comes back.

Today… after more than 3 weeks later, having no news of her heels, Nancy is missing her heels and she asked me about it. "Huh??…OH MY GOD!! You haven’t receive your heels? I passed to someone….Err….Someone….Hmmm…."  JUST WHO THE FUCK DID I PASS THEM TO??????? I have no freaking clue…. I reassured Nancy, "Don’t worry, let me go and ask around….. I am sure it must be that few person…." Ended up I asked almost everyone and everyone gave me the same "huh??" expression. Then I started to doubt myself… SHIT, DID I DREAMED ABOUT THE WHOLE PASSING THE HEELS INCIDENT?…  And in reality, it didn’t happen???

I tried to reassure Nancy again, "Err… perhaps I was dreaming?…let me go home and search for it again." She had that "Shit!-I-am-not-going-to-see-my-heels-anymore" kind of look. I felt so guilty.

Just now, when I was making myself comfort on my bed, suddenly I jumped up and ran to my shoes cabinet… carried out a total search and rescue operation….Oh no….Nancy’s heels were not found…. And I still can’t recall what really happened….

Where the hell is Nancy’s heels????

Na Bei Lah… Dun play liao can boh… If you are that fucker whom I passed the heels to, can you please fucking own up!! Wah Lau Eh… don’t bully Cinderella hor… I need to find that pair of bloody heels!!! AaarrGGhhh….Where…Where…Where…

Nancy’s heels look something like this…or…a little bit close to it …or not exactly like it…or…totally not like this….ermm…I forgot…

I am a potential husband basher??

I was in the office, packing up, ready to go home when I saw the latest copy of Her World magazine. I flipped through it and an article, "She Was Out of Control" caught my eyes. I browsed it and realized it was a story from an abused husband, describing his agony for putting up with his wife’s constant violence. He married a sweet girl who turned into a freaking monster, that denied him his access to freedom and tormented him with her rains of punches!!

His story went on to say that his ex-wife (already divorced) had been diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder!! Great!! Now the entire Singapore would be thinking that the BPD sufferer are nothing more than a vicious Venus-Flying-Trap! Luring men into a marriage before ripping them apart!

I found my jaws dropped and my head shaking in dismay. This is so unjustified! Out of the multiple features of BPD, which include: paranoid feelings, relationship instability, angry outburst, fear of abandonment, impulsive behavior, identity disturbance, suicidal, emptiness, VIOLENCE isn’t that common! In most cases, BPD sufferer would hurt themselves more often than they would cause bodily grievance onto others.

If you bother to understand the illness and make effort to empathize, we can be in lesser chance of losing our heads.

After ending a five-year relationship, I had a number of suitors, with each, I had been very up-front and I told them about my illness. All of them said things like, " I understand." But I never thought that they do, because whenever I am in a fit of rage or despair, they questioned me, "Why must you be like that?" And I wondered just what the fuck do they mean when they say I understand??

I closed the magazine, went home, cooked, and ate a hell lot of food. I had a rib-eye steak, a 2-egg omelette and a box of bacon & cheese biscuit. Damn, since when did I become a comfort eating pig?

It has come clear to me that I shall not hope for anyone to "understand", because understanding does not help to prevent you from assuming that I am an antagonistic bitch who is here to grant you a living hell.

Bottom-line is, we aren’t that frightening. Yes, we may be like an atomic-bomb, if you know which wires to cut, you are fucking safe. And you don’t dismantle a bomb without any prior knowledge of it right?

*Disclaimer: Hey, this is by no means faulting Her World magazine for publishing the article. They have the freedom to write anything on their magazine, just as I have the freedom to air my view here.

Love is….??

Famous quotes on love (some very funny…hehe…)

"Love is a madness; if thwarted it develops fast". ~ Mark Twain 

"Love means giving something you don’t have to someone who doesn’t want it". ~ Jacques Lacan

"Love ain’t nothing but sex misspelled. – Harlan Ellison, Title of book (1968)

"Love is a minefield. You take a step and get blown to pieces, put yourself back together again and stupidly take another step. I guess that’s human nature. It hurts so much to be alone that we’d all rather blow up than be single". ~ Kate Welles (Famke Janssen) in Love & Sex (2000)

"Love is as unproblematic as a vehicle. The only problems are the drivers, the passengers and the road". ~ Franz Kafka

"Love is the answer, but while you’re waiting for the answer, sex raises some pretty interesting questions". ~ Woody Allen

"Loving someone is giving them the power to hurt you, but trusting them not to."~ Anonymous

"Love is just a system for getting someone to call you "darling" after sex."~ Julian Barnes

"Love is a temporary moment of happiness, in exchange for a lifetime of regrets and devastation." ~ Cindy Cheong (yeah, that’s right. I am the author of this quote lah)

Aftermath of a disaster

So much for being ramped down by a truck driven by that bitch and survived. I am not going to sit here and wish that her misery doubled or tripled. Coz I know it, bloody hell, would be.

The devil wanna cook tonight, not frog this time round, instead Pork Ribs with Corn & Onions Soup.

The Recipe

Ingredients: 1 corn, 2 large onions, 4 pcs of pork ribs, 2 chili padi, 1 cup of chicken stock, 2 cups of water and half tablespoon of salt.

Direction: Put all the ingredients in a pot and bring to boil, simmer for 30 mins. And voila, it’s done.

It goes best with a drink. Well, I am trying to cut down drinking alcohol to once a week. (I promised someone) This is my next best choice, apart from COKE LITE (its late and having caffeine now just keeps me awake til morning).

After wolfing down everything… erm… almost everything. I think I am left with a big fat belly and a cool "after disaster" binge.

Before I go, leave you with something interesting. The Devil’s Dictionary. Not written by me but Ambrose Bierce, a famous American satirist, critic, short story writer, editor and journalist.

These are some of the words, I find rather amusing.

Apologize, v. To lay the foundation for a future offense.

Bride, n. A woman with a fine prospect of happiness behind her.

Christian, n. One who follows the teachings of Christ so long as they are not inconsistent with a life of sin.

Happiness, n. An agreeable sensation arising from contemplating the misery of another.

Inhumanity, n. One of the signal and characteristic qualities of humanity.

Joy, n. An emotion variously excited, but in its highest degree arising from the contemplation of grief in another.

Love, n. A temporary insanity curable by marriage

Philosophy, n. A route of many roads leading from nowhere to nothing.

Resign, v. A good thing to do when you are going to be kicked out.

Twice, adv. Once too often.

War, n. God’s way of teaching Americans geography.

Year, n. A period of three hundred and sixty-five disappointments.

*How to move on after a disaster? I have no better fucking idea than this.

What a sick world!

I was told to come out of the cocoon, doc said not all are evil, and I got to give it another try. Emptiness will eat me alive if I continued to isolate myself and be dependent on my alter ego. If I am gonna pay so much money for psychotherapy, I might as well listen for once. So this weekend, I opened myself up, twice, as a target to be stabbed. Here is one:

I came across a girl’s blog, reading it I started to let my empathetic side takes the better of me.

Her entry: I felt like shit last morning. No one was there. I had to handle my pain all alone. Not like I cannot; not like I need anyone, but I’d wished that sometimes, somebody could be there. Been through shit for the past couple of years. I don’t know what he truly wants, and still I carry on, knowing very well we’re not meant to be. He breaks my heart bit by bit. I can’t forget her. I can’t pretend she doesn’t exist. The past hurt, and now, every day still hurts. Nothing has changed. There is pure burden in the way he looks at me. I’m someone who stands by him in everything he does. I’m someone who understands him. I have him in my life, but I don’t have his heart. All I ever do is sob alone as I think on all the times we’ve shared so far. He holds me in his arms, but he forgets to hold my hands. It happens every time. I don’t want to spend my birthday in a hospital.

I wanted to reach out and pat her with the real me, but I had so much hesitation, eventually I struggled and disregarded my reservations to write her a message last night:

"Hey girl, a couple of months back, I chanced upon your blog and I had been visiting it on & off. Reading your entries, I was transported back to the days when I was feeling totally trapped.
My life was fading to the oblivion, I was rotting away like a rat carcass in the gutter, but nobody knew where the stench was coming from.
I reckon that my message probably can’t help you very much, I juz wanna tell you, girl, when you walked out of that dark tunnel, you will eventually realize that you can see even without a light. But you need to get moving, because the exit will not come to you, you have to get there… on your own.
I am saying this to you, not as a person outside the tunnel. I am so far away, I am crawling… cutting and bruising my knees… but I am crawling… towards at the end of my darkness.
I hope you find the courage to realise that you are the beholder of your own fate. Make the call, make the difference.
I will see you at the end of the tunnel……."

After sending, I went to bed hoping that her pain would be elevated and wondered if I had found a way to eradicate the split in me.

Today, I received a reply from her:

"number one, i do not know you. and i ain’t in some sadness tunnel, or trap or whichever term you use. i know you read my blog. like you said, it was a couple of months back. the reason i didn’t reply your previous messages was just that i didn’t wanna. no one is gonna crawl outta some tunnel cuz no one’s trapped like you were. so keep the comments cuz you don’t know me like that."

It’s true, I don’t know her, so why the fuck bother if she fucking kill herself or not? I heard myself telling me, the fucking world is a sick, twisted place! It is like a virus, the evilness; it infiltrated everything, everything is so fucking unappreciated and I had allowed myself to be so fucking disposable!! I don’t need to play a part in its existence. The promise that on the vulnerable side of me which lays a beautiful life, one worth trying to cross over had turned out to be a fucking deceives. It’s all a big dupe and don’t count on me to fall for that again!

I am back in my lair, slaying the side of me that had exposed me to the decadence. Fuck you, fuck her, fuck him, fuck trying to co-exist with the norms, they won’t fucking give a damn for me to be normal. I just need my fucking medication tonight.

I am being robbed – of my memories

Am I really getting old? Or is my brain already fried? Who the hell is robbing my memory bank?

Sometimes people around me would talk about a certain event and I would really be raking my mind and have no inkling on it. I would usually go, "Erm…ya… I think I remember…but not the details." To avoid looking like I am uninterested. The fact is, my friends, it isn’t there in my head.

I find it rather strange, I had encountered many "memory lapses", but they happened usually after I drink. But these days, I had really been cutting down on my drinking. To make matter worst, I dream nightly, my dreams are so damn real; with realistic dreams and memory fog, sometimes I am fucking mixed up between what’s real and what’s not.

I hope posting this entry would remind myself of the things that brings me, smiles. It might come in handy for my "pre-matured Dementia". Of all the things I tried to forget, there are many things worth remembering afterall…

Like these:

Smoking tax-free cigarettes, cool…

Finally… I had learned to cook for myself, although it is not to perfection but they are very edible.

Shaking legs at home, while I watch TV, read a book or blog an entry. May I find inner peace through these.

Checking out on my neighbours living opposite me, with my Oki. I think they do check us out too… hahaha…

Ah.. my purple flowers! I used to have cactus dying on me, but now my flowers are blooming! I am beginning to have green fingers!

Ya, I know I am a reformed alcoholic. A little bit of champagne won’t hurt right?

I love to swim when the pool is empty, like it is my private pool…hehe… But now 7th month, so I prefer some human company.

Lying down on the floor, patting my silly dog. He never fail to bring a smile when I look at him. God! He is a good looker!

My work! My Pride! Here lies my sanity.

My night light. It creates a romantic ambience. Haiz…. there isn’t anyone to hold me to sleep….

Oh no… don’t volunteer… remember my blog on "Dashing but Dangerous"?

You Are My Sunshine

I am typing this entry with tears streaking across my cheeks, blurring my vision. I can’t stop weeping even though the show ending 15mins ago. At the point of my life where I would regard myself dead to everything connected to romance; there I was curling up on my couch, brawling like a seriously wounded child, moments ago.

I decided to have some entertainment while eating my "single woman’s lonely dinner", so I popped in a Korean movie, "You Are My Sunshine". Oh no… don’t mistaken me for the type who chase after Korean Dramas like "Da Chang Jin" or what have you on Channel U. I rented this disc because it won some Best Director, Actor and Actress awards.

This film, based on a true event, tells a damn moving story! Oh my God! It is so fucking heart-wrenching, tears-pouring, and whatever you could think of!!

The show is about how two seemingly ordinary persons fell in love, got married and a sudden tragedy struck them. She was tested positive for HIV, she left him to avoid getting him implicated by her nan bei ex-hubby. She was later sentenced to 2 years imprisonment because she was prostituting herself to pay off some debts, all the while she was ignorant about herself contracting AIDS. Her husband committed suicide and lost his voice when she refused to let him visit her in the prison, as she wanted to spare him of the agony and the shame she had brought upon him and his family.

By far, one of the most touching romantic tragedy I have watched this year. Oh… I look like fuck right now! I need more eye masks to rescue my puffy and swollen eyes.

If you ever need to pull off a stunt, faking sore eyes to get a MC, you really should watch it. Erm… don’t worry Boss, if you are reading this, I am going to the office tomorrow…

Watch the trailer here: http://www.festivefilms.com/youaremysunshine/

L.O.V.E

Love… spell as L.O.V.E

Love- an intense feeling of affections? A mutual attractions? A condition? An absolute value? A selfless act? Or is it an indefinable abstraction?

Perhaps love is just a word that has been over-rated!

In the studies of neuroscience, "love" is when sight, scent, sound and touch stimulate the presence of a number of chemicals in the brain. These chemicals include; Testosterone(the principle male sex hormone), Oestrogen(a primary female sex hormone), Dopamine(a neurotransmitter), Norepinephrine(a stress hormone), Serotonin(monoamine neurotransmitter), Oxytocin(another neurotransmitter) and Vasopressin(an anti-diuretic hormone).

In a moment of lust, there are presence of a higher levels of Testosterone and Oestrogen. Dopamine, Norepinephrine and Seretonin are more commonly found in your "love at first sight". Oxytocin and Vasopressin seemed to be the better fellas, because they give you the long term bonding and relationships characterized by strong attachments. But the sad fact is both Oxytocin and Vasopressin could be quite drained out in a matter of 3-4 years.

One of my co-workers is from India, where arranged marriages are still very common; he is happily married for over 9 years. He believed that love is not a necessary ingredient in the initial stages of marriage – it is something that can be created during the marriage.

We argued. I said,"This is so sexist! The women in India are too traditional, they just don’t fight for their own rights to fall in love, thus they give up being the beholder of their own destinies."

He explained,"When you are filled with choices from your freedom to love, you have tendency to compare. Always hoping for the best one to come along. When you met the presumingly best one, you get married. Then wishing to have MORE out of the marriage. But girl, there is usually LESS after marriage and it gets lesser and lesser as the years go by. You go saying Damn! I had made a lousy decision to marry this person. With an arranged marriage, you enter it with doubts and relatively lower expectations, going through the marriage you started to see the qualities that you least expected out of the person and that is when you will find yourself loving this person more and more each day."

After hearing this, I was dumbfounded… I couldn’t agree with him more.

I asked him,"Err…Do you think you could match-make me? ….Mmm…But my mom won’t agree to an Indian… no offense…" He shrugged and we laughed it off.

Maybe I could be Mrs Rajeet Singh or Mrs Bala Vishwanash. Hahaha….

My invalid fear of abandonment??

I have many "friends" or should I say, people that I knew. But I had always try to keep everyone at an arm’s length, I am afraid to establish any close connections with people. It’s my phobia of abandonment, or so I thought. I absolutely dread the feeling of being detached from people I feel for. Therefore I built up a "defense mechanism" in me, to deny most people from attaching to me; for I felt that in this way, I can spare myself of the unnecessary agony. However I do feel extremely empty inside owing to this self-induced loneliness.

I had a therapy session with my shrink last Monday, she was tapping on my issue on the above, among the numerous other issues I had.

She wanted to have an open discussion about my fear of abandonment and how the manifestation started. We spoke on my childhood (for more info, refer to entry on "About A Girl"), and my own divorce which happened more than six years ago and she finally concluded that I was the one who deserted the people whom I labeled as my "abandon-er".

She walked me through the episodes of my life where I felt abandoned. Beginning with my mom… My mom made a connection with me after several years of leaving me, I stayed with her for a brief moment, until I found her totally missing out on my childhood and didn’t know who her daughter really was. After a fight with her, I ran out of her place and was never returned. Then came my ex-husband, he made a terrible mistake, having an affair with another woman, I gave him the chance to work out on our marriage. Just after one month, I decided he had to move back to his parents, because it was simply exhausting to see that there wasn’t any hope of reconciliation. He listened to me and moved out, subsequently he realized that he felt much better living a life without me. So he disappeared from my life. Lastly, came my ex-bf, after more than a year of compromising, I decided one night, enough was enough and I packed my stuff and stayed in a hotel for 3 nights and came back to shift the rest of my things away. He didn’t plead to ask me to move back because he knew his love was not enough for me.

My shrink made me see that my fear of abandonment wasn’t quite valid. It’s more of me throwing away everything, when I felt threatened to live a life with the other person whom I felt had screwed my "picture" of perfection.

She sum up that I have an intense anger that was bred in me since I was a little girl, blaming my parent’s divorce for screwing up the only thing I wanted – a home. As I grew up and encountered events that resembled familiar threats which I assumed as the crushing factors to my "dream family", I will take off. I disagreed to her analysis on that. But I didn’t tell her. I did all that because I have such strong fear of being abandoned, I rather to be the one who walks out on it all.

Leaving her consultation room, I had feeling of confusions. Was it really a case of my own misinterpretation of abandonment since young or is she trying to make me believe her stories, so I could recover? I am still quite uncertain… Well, so much for psychotherapy…

My "homework" for our next meet, is an essay on "How I can find that inner peace in me?". I have not since written a single word. I don’t know what is inner peace, how it feels like, let alone how to attain it. I am fucking clueless… Is there really peace on earth???

What the heck! I am going downstairs for a swim… tranquil of the water… that should be the closest thing to peacefulness…