Isn't it sad that one of my guilty pleasure food is Kentucky Fried Chicken, who happens to be one of the most hated fast food by PETA (google it if you don't know who they are)? I just read how they handle the chicken and I was shocked to the core. The abuse of the chicken is totally beyond believe. How the heeeeeelllll do they do it? Removing the beak off the chicken so that they won't attack each other and slitting the throat while they are still concious and are able to feel the pain.
And they freaking scald the chicken alive in tanks of HOT WATER.
O my God.
Are they freaking crazy????
I let a lady bug live in my apartment on winter though I'm phobic to flying bugs, while they are playing Texas Chainsaw Massacre with the chicken.
If you believe in reincarnation, don't you start to wonder what the next life will be for those farm slaughter house operators? I'm putting my money on them born as a KFC chick.
Karma is a bitch.
I'm not eating meat tomorrow.
And though not intentionally, I didn't eat meat the whole day today. I'm so proud of myself. One baby step at a time.
For full story, go here and weep: http://www.kentuckyfriedcruelty.com/kfcsays.asp
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
Thursday, March 16, 2006
105 years
Both my dogs are sick, and I'm so damn worried because, they're like my babies. The doctor has diagnosed one of them of a heart problem, and I don't know what's wrong about the other one yet. I pray to God, please God, if you have to take them, don't make them suffer beforehand. Let them die in their sleep and preferably after a very good meal. I am devestated now because I forgot to kiss them goodbye before I went back here. I was late and just stormed out with my luggages without giving them a hug and a kiss.This apparently has become a habbit, the storming out without kissing them goodbye.
I know it's about time because 15 years times 7 dog year yields 105 years (my my, aren't we old.) and I should be prepared, and yet, I am not.
They have gone through most (if not all) adolecense period of my life, including the period when I cried behind closed door for whatever reasons.
They have also barked on all of my exes, become friends with them and forgot about them because I broke up with them. Boy, they should've barked some more. The irony is, they haven't barked on my future husband yet. The one that they should've really barked on then made friends with.
Despite that, I don't wish them to have longer and longer life, I don't know if they are tired of it anymore, being sick like that, I just wish them a peaceful 'let-go'. And I will deal my pain when they leave. And eventually I will be fine, as long as they leave without suffering.
I hope God forgive the white one, for all the mice she had killed in the past. I think it's the only form of recreation one can have behind 6 foot high fences. And also forgive the black one, for all the human calves he had sinked his teeth in. No, wait, that was also the white one.
Of all my life, they are the creatures that have given me the kind of unconditional adoration and love and forever I will look back and cherish every single lick they have given me, as stinky as it might be.
Sigh...
And just now, the pain starts crawling in my chest and I just want to bury my face in my pillows.
I know it's about time because 15 years times 7 dog year yields 105 years (my my, aren't we old.) and I should be prepared, and yet, I am not.
They have gone through most (if not all) adolecense period of my life, including the period when I cried behind closed door for whatever reasons.
They have also barked on all of my exes, become friends with them and forgot about them because I broke up with them. Boy, they should've barked some more. The irony is, they haven't barked on my future husband yet. The one that they should've really barked on then made friends with.
Despite that, I don't wish them to have longer and longer life, I don't know if they are tired of it anymore, being sick like that, I just wish them a peaceful 'let-go'. And I will deal my pain when they leave. And eventually I will be fine, as long as they leave without suffering.
I hope God forgive the white one, for all the mice she had killed in the past. I think it's the only form of recreation one can have behind 6 foot high fences. And also forgive the black one, for all the human calves he had sinked his teeth in. No, wait, that was also the white one.
Of all my life, they are the creatures that have given me the kind of unconditional adoration and love and forever I will look back and cherish every single lick they have given me, as stinky as it might be.
Sigh...
And just now, the pain starts crawling in my chest and I just want to bury my face in my pillows.
Sunday, March 12, 2006
These past weeks I'm busy like crazy at work. I wish I have more time to send news to my friends and family, but what can I say? I'm a work slave. This will be over next week though and the 'torch' will be passed to another victim to do the 'weekend and night on-call' rotation.
I've been thinking about all the things I need to catch up to live up to that "Work hard play harder" phrase. He he he (cunning laugh).
Anyway, I have been lobbying my way to my parents on my wedding, especially the particular battle about how many guests to invite. She wanted a total of a thousand guests, and I nearly fainted when I first heard it.
I bid for 5 hundred max. Including our humongous extended family members. Let me tell you something quite frankly, I have more aunts than uncles just because most of my uncles got married more than once. And that, my friend, is why I have so many relatives (aside from the fact that contraceptives were not easily accessible at that time,... I guess).
So, after months and months of not talking about the wedding, the topic crawled up and my mom was actually warming up about the idea of 500 people and started to see my point of view, because I told her, I'd rather have small one but full of people I know than a big one with people I've never seen in my life. I want it to be personal and memorable.
Thinking that this problem was solved, I emailed my dad for him to start doing his guest list. and his reply was: No problem, I'll invite my business friends, so I think we're good for about a thousand people.
Oy...!
I've been thinking about all the things I need to catch up to live up to that "Work hard play harder" phrase. He he he (cunning laugh).
Anyway, I have been lobbying my way to my parents on my wedding, especially the particular battle about how many guests to invite. She wanted a total of a thousand guests, and I nearly fainted when I first heard it.
I bid for 5 hundred max. Including our humongous extended family members. Let me tell you something quite frankly, I have more aunts than uncles just because most of my uncles got married more than once. And that, my friend, is why I have so many relatives (aside from the fact that contraceptives were not easily accessible at that time,... I guess).
So, after months and months of not talking about the wedding, the topic crawled up and my mom was actually warming up about the idea of 500 people and started to see my point of view, because I told her, I'd rather have small one but full of people I know than a big one with people I've never seen in my life. I want it to be personal and memorable.
Thinking that this problem was solved, I emailed my dad for him to start doing his guest list. and his reply was: No problem, I'll invite my business friends, so I think we're good for about a thousand people.
Oy...!
Saturday, March 04, 2006
Even the demon spitted it out
Let me tell you a story about a demon that bit my mom's hand.
The story goes like this: A demon approached my mom, and then out of the blue he just bit her hand, ... wait, I think it's her arm instead.
Then he chewed it a bit, but then spit it out.
He grumbled: "Ugh,... it's not tasty!"
And then he left.
And my mom woke up.
And hence the story about my mom got bitten by a bloody ass demon.
So I told her that she needs to eat more fatty food and gain weight, she's so fat-less that there is no juice in her meat.
The story goes like this: A demon approached my mom, and then out of the blue he just bit her hand, ... wait, I think it's her arm instead.
Then he chewed it a bit, but then spit it out.
He grumbled: "Ugh,... it's not tasty!"
And then he left.
And my mom woke up.
And hence the story about my mom got bitten by a bloody ass demon.
So I told her that she needs to eat more fatty food and gain weight, she's so fat-less that there is no juice in her meat.
Wednesday, March 01, 2006
'Almost' is the keyword
I almost got hit by a car over the weekend, and that was my fault.
I didn't even look in the mirror when going out from my parking spot.
That's what I do when I'm emo.
Total self destruction.
I was having fight with my boyfriend that time just because I was stubborn and short tempered and took his sincere gesture as something negative.
Damn this PMS!
But, really though, I gotta tell you, parking is crappy in downtown. Why do they cost so much, and why does it have very little parking spaces? And when they provide you some, they put this sign with a list of restrictions and some twist hoping that you would fail to fully crack the code and break the rule and they can tow your car for you to pay $210.
And why does every freaking car in Chicago drive like a maniac?
And when you signal to change lane they speed up to make sure that you can't get in.
And I despise those crazy drivers who honk the exact moment the light turns green.
That is my pet peeve. I really want to stop right there and then, just for the sake of pissing him back.
I told my boyfriend, seriously, that I should bring the driving manual, (you know, the one issued by the State) with me when I drive, so I can wave it around and yell "Read this!" when someone cut my lane without signalling, or do whatever stupidity that I might come across on the road.
But, he laughed out loud and made me laughed too and now I feel like a loony whenever I bring the topic. He killed my idea.
Then, last weekend I almost got into an accident. So, for all fairness, I think I should wave it to myself.
Back to the fight, well, for those who know me very very well, I am short tempered and very drama-queenish, but I can't stay mad for a too long of a period of time (unless it's really disgustingly bad, then yeah, you don't want to press my button). Besides, my boyfriend's soft spot is happened to be...
me.
So, it was over before we even get back to the suburb.
We're so good at ending a fight, it's almost like we have lots of practice, when we actually don't.
Anyway, presentations were over today, I was just glad and went directly to Trader Joe's. What a recreation.
I didn't even look in the mirror when going out from my parking spot.
That's what I do when I'm emo.
Total self destruction.
I was having fight with my boyfriend that time just because I was stubborn and short tempered and took his sincere gesture as something negative.
Damn this PMS!
But, really though, I gotta tell you, parking is crappy in downtown. Why do they cost so much, and why does it have very little parking spaces? And when they provide you some, they put this sign with a list of restrictions and some twist hoping that you would fail to fully crack the code and break the rule and they can tow your car for you to pay $210.
And why does every freaking car in Chicago drive like a maniac?
And when you signal to change lane they speed up to make sure that you can't get in.
And I despise those crazy drivers who honk the exact moment the light turns green.
That is my pet peeve. I really want to stop right there and then, just for the sake of pissing him back.
I told my boyfriend, seriously, that I should bring the driving manual, (you know, the one issued by the State) with me when I drive, so I can wave it around and yell "Read this!" when someone cut my lane without signalling, or do whatever stupidity that I might come across on the road.
But, he laughed out loud and made me laughed too and now I feel like a loony whenever I bring the topic. He killed my idea.
Then, last weekend I almost got into an accident. So, for all fairness, I think I should wave it to myself.
Back to the fight, well, for those who know me very very well, I am short tempered and very drama-queenish, but I can't stay mad for a too long of a period of time (unless it's really disgustingly bad, then yeah, you don't want to press my button). Besides, my boyfriend's soft spot is happened to be...
me.
So, it was over before we even get back to the suburb.
We're so good at ending a fight, it's almost like we have lots of practice, when we actually don't.
Anyway, presentations were over today, I was just glad and went directly to Trader Joe's. What a recreation.
Saturday, February 25, 2006
VP in underwear
What am I doing up this early on the weekend?
I'm stressed out, that why.
And when I am all stressed out, I can't sleep well, and don't really eat.
Yeah, a great way to lose my weight, while I, unlike most female, don't want to be skinny. (I'm weird, yeah, old news)
I have two presentations to the client next week, each is an hour, back to back.
I hate presentations because I hate talking in public, especially when the public is the senior VPs of my future employers. And the thing about talking in public, let alone remembering to picture the audience in underwear, standing up there and facing them with a confident expression (or pretend to have one) is hard by itself.
I asked my boyfriend to be my guinea pig and listen to my presentation and let me know what I'm lacking of. Despite his professed love to me, he said, "Honey, I most likely will fall asleep. Every time I hear a presentation, I fell a sleep."
Hmmmm,... that's true.
He can drop his adrenaline every time someone starts preaching, teaching, presenting, giving speeches or anything that involving long explanation.
And, man,... now all of a sudden I remember that I have other assignments besides this one and might ended up 11 days of 'holding the fort' (long & boring story, you don't wanna know).
I need to reward myself once all commotion is over.
Oh... but, I can't. I haven't done my tax yet.
I need another vacation. One where I won't get dragged around like those cans attached at the back of a car with the sign: Just Married.
I'm stressed out, that why.
And when I am all stressed out, I can't sleep well, and don't really eat.
Yeah, a great way to lose my weight, while I, unlike most female, don't want to be skinny. (I'm weird, yeah, old news)
I have two presentations to the client next week, each is an hour, back to back.
I hate presentations because I hate talking in public, especially when the public is the senior VPs of my future employers. And the thing about talking in public, let alone remembering to picture the audience in underwear, standing up there and facing them with a confident expression (or pretend to have one) is hard by itself.
I asked my boyfriend to be my guinea pig and listen to my presentation and let me know what I'm lacking of. Despite his professed love to me, he said, "Honey, I most likely will fall asleep. Every time I hear a presentation, I fell a sleep."
Hmmmm,... that's true.
He can drop his adrenaline every time someone starts preaching, teaching, presenting, giving speeches or anything that involving long explanation.
And, man,... now all of a sudden I remember that I have other assignments besides this one and might ended up 11 days of 'holding the fort' (long & boring story, you don't wanna know).
I need to reward myself once all commotion is over.
Oh... but, I can't. I haven't done my tax yet.
I need another vacation. One where I won't get dragged around like those cans attached at the back of a car with the sign: Just Married.
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
Consumerism Day
I almost forgot it's Valentine's Day if not because my boyfriend sent me a text message in the morning saying Happy V Day.
Awww... he's nice that way.
Valentine's Day is a Consumerism Day. Not that I against it, but I just can't appreciate it much for some unknown reasons.
Maybe it's a culture thing, or maybe I'm just a sceptic, or maybe I just don't feel like going to an overcrowded restaurant and the waitress is so busy that he/she can't even serve us properly and after that I have to pay double for the meal.
And also I don't like roses. Especially the red ones.
Too many petals, and they're thorny.
Anyway, my boyfriend gave me some pink tulips though, which is nice and more than enough.It was funny because he literally asked me for hints of what I want for Valentine's day & I told him, some tulips maybe nice, but please don't overspend.
We should not yield to the consumerism day!
We have consumed a lot anyway for no apparent reason all throughout the year, not just Feb 14th, so why should this day any better than the rest, consumerism wise.
Spare the card, I don't need it. Don't mistake me for being cheap, but honestly I never know what to do with card after I read it. Do you keep it? Or throw it away?
Please, someone, enlighten me.
And he stopped by that evening & we had dinner together ( frozen food, I don't cook this week, I'm busy) and with me in my PJ, we watched DVD.
It was nice. It was no difference than any other day we've been having all this time.
So what does that say?
(Can I be corny for a second? No? Are you sure?)
Well, what the heck, it's my blog, if you don't like it, you have to just bear it.
That means, that I think I found my (wink wink wink) couch potato partner for life.
Ain't love grand?
Awww... he's nice that way.
Valentine's Day is a Consumerism Day. Not that I against it, but I just can't appreciate it much for some unknown reasons.
Maybe it's a culture thing, or maybe I'm just a sceptic, or maybe I just don't feel like going to an overcrowded restaurant and the waitress is so busy that he/she can't even serve us properly and after that I have to pay double for the meal.
And also I don't like roses. Especially the red ones.
Too many petals, and they're thorny.
Anyway, my boyfriend gave me some pink tulips though, which is nice and more than enough.It was funny because he literally asked me for hints of what I want for Valentine's day & I told him, some tulips maybe nice, but please don't overspend.
We should not yield to the consumerism day!
We have consumed a lot anyway for no apparent reason all throughout the year, not just Feb 14th, so why should this day any better than the rest, consumerism wise.
Spare the card, I don't need it. Don't mistake me for being cheap, but honestly I never know what to do with card after I read it. Do you keep it? Or throw it away?
Please, someone, enlighten me.
And he stopped by that evening & we had dinner together ( frozen food, I don't cook this week, I'm busy) and with me in my PJ, we watched DVD.
It was nice. It was no difference than any other day we've been having all this time.
So what does that say?
(Can I be corny for a second? No? Are you sure?)
Well, what the heck, it's my blog, if you don't like it, you have to just bear it.
That means, that I think I found my (wink wink wink) couch potato partner for life.
Ain't love grand?
Monday, February 13, 2006
Chika Boom
My 'Great Expectations' DVD just came today.
JOOOOOYYY JOOOOOYYYY!!!
I had some DVD marathon this afternoon since I got the early shift this week and I can go home at 3 PM. Isn't it great walking out from the office where the sun is still shining oh so bright and I got to wear my sunglasses. Sigh, I look good in them. (heh heh, a bit of a narcissistic moment there).
That movie still amazes me. Just like I can never get over Amelie (and for that I have the real size movie poster of it). That old lady Dinsmoor. She is scary beyond belief.
But... funny that I just said that, because,... as I stared at her, she looked like my grandma.
The way that her face is always polished and made up. Hair shiny, full of volume.
Like she's always ready for the red carpet or something.
The way Dinsmoor sounded and talked also reminded me of her,not to mention her grin, the teeth, and bright lipstick. Uncanny.
Uhm,... BTW, yes, my grandma was a fashionista.
The movie is great. I always think so. And after this afternoon, I still do.
Is it possible to love someone after that person broke your heart, left you (several times), lead you on then left again? And everything you do, is the reflection of one goal, which is to win her.
Love does make people do stupid things, but it sure is good to watch them do it when you're laying on the couch eating cake when you know that all of your coworkers are still in the office, typing their code away.
P.S. You won't understand what the title means until you actually see the movie. So that's a homework, guys. Especially to you, Hunny.
JOOOOOYYY JOOOOOYYYY!!!
I had some DVD marathon this afternoon since I got the early shift this week and I can go home at 3 PM. Isn't it great walking out from the office where the sun is still shining oh so bright and I got to wear my sunglasses. Sigh, I look good in them. (heh heh, a bit of a narcissistic moment there).
That movie still amazes me. Just like I can never get over Amelie (and for that I have the real size movie poster of it). That old lady Dinsmoor. She is scary beyond belief.
But... funny that I just said that, because,... as I stared at her, she looked like my grandma.
The way that her face is always polished and made up. Hair shiny, full of volume.
Like she's always ready for the red carpet or something.
The way Dinsmoor sounded and talked also reminded me of her,not to mention her grin, the teeth, and bright lipstick. Uncanny.
Uhm,... BTW, yes, my grandma was a fashionista.
The movie is great. I always think so. And after this afternoon, I still do.
Is it possible to love someone after that person broke your heart, left you (several times), lead you on then left again? And everything you do, is the reflection of one goal, which is to win her.
Love does make people do stupid things, but it sure is good to watch them do it when you're laying on the couch eating cake when you know that all of your coworkers are still in the office, typing their code away.
P.S. You won't understand what the title means until you actually see the movie. So that's a homework, guys. Especially to you, Hunny.
Wednesday, February 08, 2006
Bored to Death
I don't know where else to go around here.
I was extremely excited when I found Trader Joe's in the neighborhood. That I looked at myself thinking how pathetic I was, excited over a grocery store.
When I turned left from my apartment I find a mall, when I turn left, same thing, another mall.
And,...
THAT'S IT!
Haven't found a club around here yet. I don't think I will. We went out to some rather nicer restaurants and the crowds are old people driving Mercedes smelling like my Grandma's favorite perfume.
And that Chicago skyline silhouette from afar just make me even more mad.
Oh anyway, changing the subject, let me tell you a story about a guy I met at work, we passed each other by in the hallway or beverage bar, whatever, and said hi and do the standard "How are you today? - I'm fine thank you how about you - I'm doing okay -Good -Good - See you later - Okay see you around" routine. Now his project is done and he's out, and sent me an email on his last day, and has been emailing me since. Asking about trivial unimportant things like "You don't talk much and seem shy at work are you really shy or do you act in the moment?"
I might be this miss Dorky van Doofus but I think this guy thinks that he has a shot.
I want to scream back at him saying something like " I seemed shy because I DON'T KNOW YOUUUUU!"
"And also my mom told me not to talk to strangers, unless they give you candy and offer you a ride home" Nope, just kidding.
Sigh...
However, usually the mere mention of boyfriend will do the trick, if not, then the term boyfriend will be fiance. And if that doesn't work, then wedding bells will have to do, and if not then I'd just tell him that my dad is the sheriff. He wouldn't know that my dad, even if he is a sheriff, which, he is not, is half a world away.
Oh! Speaking of Sheriff, I saw the sheriff's car every so often in my neighborhood, I begin to think that he lives around here. Not that it has anything to do with anything. But... that song "I shot the sheriff" popped out every time I saw his car and it's kinda annoying because that tune would stick in my head for the whole day.
I was extremely excited when I found Trader Joe's in the neighborhood. That I looked at myself thinking how pathetic I was, excited over a grocery store.
When I turned left from my apartment I find a mall, when I turn left, same thing, another mall.
And,...
THAT'S IT!
Haven't found a club around here yet. I don't think I will. We went out to some rather nicer restaurants and the crowds are old people driving Mercedes smelling like my Grandma's favorite perfume.
And that Chicago skyline silhouette from afar just make me even more mad.
Oh anyway, changing the subject, let me tell you a story about a guy I met at work, we passed each other by in the hallway or beverage bar, whatever, and said hi and do the standard "How are you today? - I'm fine thank you how about you - I'm doing okay -Good -Good - See you later - Okay see you around" routine. Now his project is done and he's out, and sent me an email on his last day, and has been emailing me since. Asking about trivial unimportant things like "You don't talk much and seem shy at work are you really shy or do you act in the moment?"
I might be this miss Dorky van Doofus but I think this guy thinks that he has a shot.
I want to scream back at him saying something like " I seemed shy because I DON'T KNOW YOUUUUU!"
"And also my mom told me not to talk to strangers, unless they give you candy and offer you a ride home" Nope, just kidding.
Sigh...
However, usually the mere mention of boyfriend will do the trick, if not, then the term boyfriend will be fiance. And if that doesn't work, then wedding bells will have to do, and if not then I'd just tell him that my dad is the sheriff. He wouldn't know that my dad, even if he is a sheriff, which, he is not, is half a world away.
Oh! Speaking of Sheriff, I saw the sheriff's car every so often in my neighborhood, I begin to think that he lives around here. Not that it has anything to do with anything. But... that song "I shot the sheriff" popped out every time I saw his car and it's kinda annoying because that tune would stick in my head for the whole day.
Sunday, February 05, 2006
Babies Attack
Gracious God.
It seems like everyone just had a baby or expecting a baby.
Babies everywhere.
Babies babies babies.
Wow...
Even Angelina Jolie is expecting one.
Babies seems unreal, especially if they are your friends'.
That's right.
Your friends who you used to spend time with during high school. Or college. When you know their previous affairs, stupid exes, silly crushes.
You know them when their hair was all frizzy. Eyebrows unplugged, we share the ladies room changing gym outfits.
Or for the guy friends, you know them from their skinny days, and you know all of their crazy exes, until the day they run ever so excitedly to you about this new chick they fall in love with and you'd think, okay heeeeere we goooo, another girlfriend. I hope this one is saner than the one before. And they finally made the right decisions and picked a very good quality of "fish in the sea."
Wow,...
And now, babies.
Well, parents, or future parents, I only have one advise.
You guys all know my real name, and my name is a pretty one (I always think so.... he he).
So, here is the advise: If you have a girl, think of my name and how pretty it is.
Think really hard.
Then make the right decision.
Wink!
To you who just gave me the great news, you know who you are.
Congratulations from Auntie Blue Cactus.
I'm sooo happy for you.
It seems like everyone just had a baby or expecting a baby.
Babies everywhere.
Babies babies babies.
Wow...
Even Angelina Jolie is expecting one.
Babies seems unreal, especially if they are your friends'.
That's right.
Your friends who you used to spend time with during high school. Or college. When you know their previous affairs, stupid exes, silly crushes.
You know them when their hair was all frizzy. Eyebrows unplugged, we share the ladies room changing gym outfits.
Or for the guy friends, you know them from their skinny days, and you know all of their crazy exes, until the day they run ever so excitedly to you about this new chick they fall in love with and you'd think, okay heeeeere we goooo, another girlfriend. I hope this one is saner than the one before. And they finally made the right decisions and picked a very good quality of "fish in the sea."
Wow,...
And now, babies.
Well, parents, or future parents, I only have one advise.
You guys all know my real name, and my name is a pretty one (I always think so.... he he).
So, here is the advise: If you have a girl, think of my name and how pretty it is.
Think really hard.
Then make the right decision.
Wink!
To you who just gave me the great news, you know who you are.
Congratulations from Auntie Blue Cactus.
I'm sooo happy for you.
Saturday, January 28, 2006
The World is Never Fair
It's been a very heavy week for me. My boss pulled me aside and talked about the re-alignment that the office is secretly doing. And the bad news was that two of my co-workers (whose level is below me) won't make it.
Now, my boss revealed that another project deal was in the making and most likely, he could save one of them. But he couldn't save both.
I put on my best poker face. Or should I say, I tried my best not to hyperventilate and pass out, because one of them is a friend of mine. I recommended him this job and he's not even there for two months just yet. And he's about to be let go within a month.
So, I breathed in and out like a fish out in the air and did my best to listen to my boss laying out the delicate situation that we're in at the moment.
I only caught a bit more than half of the whole situation. too bad I couldn't say "Encore, please?"
Then came his question: "Who should I save?"
I looked at my boss like an idiot. Is he asking me?
Quick! Quick!
Think of something!
I've got to act like I'm being objective but 'leaning' enough to my friend so my boss would think that he should choose him.
Uhm,...
Damn it! Say something!
Then, the other co-worker's face came flashing in my mind and I remembered that she just bought herself a house and borrowed money from the bank.
Arrghhh...
But still, if I had to choose, I'd choose my friend. He's a dear dear friend, the kind of friend who's been saving my ass over the years. He (along with my roommate) were the first persons that I saw in the airport when I first got here. He's been lifting my stuff, boxes, furniture, and God-knows-what-else everytime I decided to move from apartment to apartment. He'd stay up late to help me do those sucky programming homeworks. And if I list of of the other favor he's done for me, then this blog can be a very long one.
Yeah,.. I owe him that much, and even more.
So I took a deep breath and started to voice my opinion on both of them and who I think should be saved.
I feel crappy, and I feel bad, but the world is never fair and if I can save only one, then my friend's hand is the one I'd grab.
Now, my boss revealed that another project deal was in the making and most likely, he could save one of them. But he couldn't save both.
I put on my best poker face. Or should I say, I tried my best not to hyperventilate and pass out, because one of them is a friend of mine. I recommended him this job and he's not even there for two months just yet. And he's about to be let go within a month.
So, I breathed in and out like a fish out in the air and did my best to listen to my boss laying out the delicate situation that we're in at the moment.
I only caught a bit more than half of the whole situation. too bad I couldn't say "Encore, please?"
Then came his question: "Who should I save?"
I looked at my boss like an idiot. Is he asking me?
Quick! Quick!
Think of something!
I've got to act like I'm being objective but 'leaning' enough to my friend so my boss would think that he should choose him.
Uhm,...
Damn it! Say something!
Then, the other co-worker's face came flashing in my mind and I remembered that she just bought herself a house and borrowed money from the bank.
Arrghhh...
But still, if I had to choose, I'd choose my friend. He's a dear dear friend, the kind of friend who's been saving my ass over the years. He (along with my roommate) were the first persons that I saw in the airport when I first got here. He's been lifting my stuff, boxes, furniture, and God-knows-what-else everytime I decided to move from apartment to apartment. He'd stay up late to help me do those sucky programming homeworks. And if I list of of the other favor he's done for me, then this blog can be a very long one.
Yeah,.. I owe him that much, and even more.
So I took a deep breath and started to voice my opinion on both of them and who I think should be saved.
I feel crappy, and I feel bad, but the world is never fair and if I can save only one, then my friend's hand is the one I'd grab.
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
Arghhhh...
So many things I want so say in this blog,... yet! I'm always sleepy these days. After I came back here, I just don't understand why I would feel tired at 9-10 pm and wake up at 7 in the morning.
That's about 10-9 hours!
You know what they say: the older you get, the more sleep you need. But I thought that saying is only for the elderly.
That's it!
I know.
I'm going down the hill.
I'm old. I should start referring guys as 'young men' and ask them to help me go across the street.
Sigh...
And I found a few fine lines right below my eyes. On the outer rings of my eyes.
I got so worried that I got all my moisturizers out and applied them really generously.
I have back pain too.
I'm forgetful too.
Wait,... nah.. I've always been forgetful.
Just like my boyfriend. We're a great match, nobody remembers things or appointments or where we put our stuff.
Should be interesting to see what'll happen if one day we get married and live in the same house.
Anyway, I'm out. This is midnight and I can't even remember my name anymore.
So many things I want so say in this blog,... yet! I'm always sleepy these days. After I came back here, I just don't understand why I would feel tired at 9-10 pm and wake up at 7 in the morning.
That's about 10-9 hours!
You know what they say: the older you get, the more sleep you need. But I thought that saying is only for the elderly.
That's it!
I know.
I'm going down the hill.
I'm old. I should start referring guys as 'young men' and ask them to help me go across the street.
Sigh...
And I found a few fine lines right below my eyes. On the outer rings of my eyes.
I got so worried that I got all my moisturizers out and applied them really generously.
I have back pain too.
I'm forgetful too.
Wait,... nah.. I've always been forgetful.
Just like my boyfriend. We're a great match, nobody remembers things or appointments or where we put our stuff.
Should be interesting to see what'll happen if one day we get married and live in the same house.
Anyway, I'm out. This is midnight and I can't even remember my name anymore.
Sunday, January 15, 2006
Okay, since I have sorted out my sleeping schedule, and working schedule and eating schedule, it's time to look back and say "What the hell happened on that trip?!!".
The last memory of the whole thing was my boyfriend loading my luggage into his car and I just sat in the front seat, all tired, with sore throat, no make-up, messy hair, smelling like stinky gym shoes.
So,... as far as memory goes, here's Jakarta in a nutshell:
It's humid. My hair was big and frizzy there.
I kept my promise not to read the newspaper and I literally pointed that out to my dad,... but somehow, he always tried to fill me in on the day-by-day chaos that's going on there. That tofu is full of formalin, and so is anchovies. damn it! I rather not know that because anchovies is one of the delicious delicacy food in my life.
Not to mention all the sad economical & political situation.
The tv shows there sucks!
SUCKS big time!
I call all them as the country's intelligence degrading process. For all we know, the next generation of women there will long to find handsome gorgeous husbands who're crazy about them, have tons of money and they will live happily ever after, doing nothing but raising child after child, spending time going to hair saloon and malls and buy expensive useless things and watch Korean/Taiwan dramas every evening.
Ugh. Sigh... please pardon my cynicism. Can't help it.
I went to MANGO sale and found nothing there. I can't see what the fuss is all about. People were so ready to line up and spent their money for things that in my opinion were so not worth the price. There's, however, a gorgeous green dress that I tried but it is so low cut at the front that my bra is even higher than the dress itself.
I wasted my precious time in MANGO. I'm not going there again.
Okay, now, I can really go on and on AND ON, about the baaaaad things going on there, but I'm going to move on to the good stuff.
Indonesian food is da bomb! Ups... shouldn't say 'bomb' in a sentence together with the word 'Indonesia'. Delicate topic. But, I had maybe the best meals in such a long time. Nothing compared to them, especially not burgers. Huh! And I can't belieeeeve I bought pretty sandals in Bali for only 4 bucks. They might as well give them to me for free.
The weather is nice, polluted, but nice. Humid, but still nice.
And Bali is still gorgeous as ever & I went back here telling my boyfriend that we should go there the next time we go back home.
I have become a sentimental fool there, I make sure I played with my nephews, even though they are really testing my patience at times, so they'll have memory of me. And I' wont' be this aunt who's never been around.
I took lots of pictures, I saw my parents were growing old and the fact created pain in my chest. Though they are well, I think I need to rearrange my future plans or one day, I might regret that I don't.
And related to this, I promised myself to go home more often, every year if I have to. Be it I hate flying, be it I don't like Jakarta, but seeing the joy of my nephews running towards me at the airport upon my arrival and getting the signature warm bear hug from my dad are priceless.
The last memory of the whole thing was my boyfriend loading my luggage into his car and I just sat in the front seat, all tired, with sore throat, no make-up, messy hair, smelling like stinky gym shoes.
So,... as far as memory goes, here's Jakarta in a nutshell:
It's humid. My hair was big and frizzy there.
I kept my promise not to read the newspaper and I literally pointed that out to my dad,... but somehow, he always tried to fill me in on the day-by-day chaos that's going on there. That tofu is full of formalin, and so is anchovies. damn it! I rather not know that because anchovies is one of the delicious delicacy food in my life.
Not to mention all the sad economical & political situation.
The tv shows there sucks!
SUCKS big time!
I call all them as the country's intelligence degrading process. For all we know, the next generation of women there will long to find handsome gorgeous husbands who're crazy about them, have tons of money and they will live happily ever after, doing nothing but raising child after child, spending time going to hair saloon and malls and buy expensive useless things and watch Korean/Taiwan dramas every evening.
Ugh. Sigh... please pardon my cynicism. Can't help it.
I went to MANGO sale and found nothing there. I can't see what the fuss is all about. People were so ready to line up and spent their money for things that in my opinion were so not worth the price. There's, however, a gorgeous green dress that I tried but it is so low cut at the front that my bra is even higher than the dress itself.
I wasted my precious time in MANGO. I'm not going there again.
Okay, now, I can really go on and on AND ON, about the baaaaad things going on there, but I'm going to move on to the good stuff.
Indonesian food is da bomb! Ups... shouldn't say 'bomb' in a sentence together with the word 'Indonesia'. Delicate topic. But, I had maybe the best meals in such a long time. Nothing compared to them, especially not burgers. Huh! And I can't belieeeeve I bought pretty sandals in Bali for only 4 bucks. They might as well give them to me for free.
The weather is nice, polluted, but nice. Humid, but still nice.
And Bali is still gorgeous as ever & I went back here telling my boyfriend that we should go there the next time we go back home.
I have become a sentimental fool there, I make sure I played with my nephews, even though they are really testing my patience at times, so they'll have memory of me. And I' wont' be this aunt who's never been around.
I took lots of pictures, I saw my parents were growing old and the fact created pain in my chest. Though they are well, I think I need to rearrange my future plans or one day, I might regret that I don't.
And related to this, I promised myself to go home more often, every year if I have to. Be it I hate flying, be it I don't like Jakarta, but seeing the joy of my nephews running towards me at the airport upon my arrival and getting the signature warm bear hug from my dad are priceless.
Sunday, January 08, 2006
I'm back
I'm still alive. Thank God. What a sucky flight I had. Simply because of the total time I spent flying here. It's disgusting I won't even mention it.
And, no one told me that the immigration will take your picture once you get to the US. Great. I bet my picture looks even scarier than Nick Nolte's mug shot (click here).
Anyway, feel so happy to see my boyfriend. He told me that ever since I left, the Bulls never won a single game. They had 8 straight losing game. And the night before I landed in the morning, the Bulls had their first win in a long time.
Awww... that makes me feel special. :D
Plus! They won again last night. I wouldn't know because I fell asleep. It's just my boyfriend hanging around & told me they won when I woke up later last night.
Another thing that's missing while I was away is the sunshine. They had overcast for over 2 weeks. And guess what, the sun shone yesterday evening and today morning, it's sunny.
Yeah, baby,... I am Matahari.
Hehehe...
I bought so many stuff for my boyfriend, it's like Christmas all over again for him yesterday.
Anyway, it's slavery time again. I will start working tomorrow. I hope I won't fall asleep with my head on the keyboard in the middle of the day. That would be kinda embarrassing.
One sad thing about Jakarta is saying goodbye my family, I couldn't care less about Jakarta, but I do care about my family. I sometimes question myself why I even be here and see them only for 2 1/2 weeks in 3 years if they are the most important people in my life.
I sometimes don't know what to decide.
I told my boyfriend yesterday that I had second thought on staying here in the US after seeing them getting older and older despite my company is willing to sponsor me greencard, unless I can bring them all here, which is kind of too wishful to come true.
Sigh... what a daughter/sister/aunt gotta do?
I wish I know.
And, no one told me that the immigration will take your picture once you get to the US. Great. I bet my picture looks even scarier than Nick Nolte's mug shot (click here).
Anyway, feel so happy to see my boyfriend. He told me that ever since I left, the Bulls never won a single game. They had 8 straight losing game. And the night before I landed in the morning, the Bulls had their first win in a long time.
Awww... that makes me feel special. :D
Plus! They won again last night. I wouldn't know because I fell asleep. It's just my boyfriend hanging around & told me they won when I woke up later last night.
Another thing that's missing while I was away is the sunshine. They had overcast for over 2 weeks. And guess what, the sun shone yesterday evening and today morning, it's sunny.
Yeah, baby,... I am Matahari.
Hehehe...
I bought so many stuff for my boyfriend, it's like Christmas all over again for him yesterday.
Anyway, it's slavery time again. I will start working tomorrow. I hope I won't fall asleep with my head on the keyboard in the middle of the day. That would be kinda embarrassing.
One sad thing about Jakarta is saying goodbye my family, I couldn't care less about Jakarta, but I do care about my family. I sometimes question myself why I even be here and see them only for 2 1/2 weeks in 3 years if they are the most important people in my life.
I sometimes don't know what to decide.
I told my boyfriend yesterday that I had second thought on staying here in the US after seeing them getting older and older despite my company is willing to sponsor me greencard, unless I can bring them all here, which is kind of too wishful to come true.
Sigh... what a daughter/sister/aunt gotta do?
I wish I know.
Friday, December 23, 2005
What a roller coaster past few days I had!
Im right now at Narita, Tokyo airport waiting to go home to my family.
I am convinced that being a stewardess is NOT my cuppa tea. yesterdays flight was the longest 13 hours of my ffffreaking life.
And in about an hour and a half, Ill go through another 7 (or 8?). I dont even dare checking my itinerary.
I had to leave my boyfriend on my birthday. And seeing him walking away at the airport was pretty hard. Yes, yes, its only for 2 and a half weeks, but he will not spend christmas and new years eve with me. Though hes pretty cool about it.
Now, for those who didnt wish me happy birthday, shame on you! Didnt you go to friendster & see the wrapped gift icon bliping in front of you by my picture???
Hehehe... just kidding. :P
But, yes, Im old, as old as,... uhm,... 21.
Yes, Im 21 again this year, next year I want to go with 59, coz like my coworker said, if you admit that you are 59, then in a year, youll retire and receive pention money every month.
Hm,....
Interesting.
Oh well... Im bored. Time crawls in an unbelievably slow speed when you are waiting for something.
And if youre wondering why i dont have any single quote marks in this posting, thats because I dont know how to make one. This computer im using in this public waiting room is set to japanese characters. I think Im satisfied enough to even be able to write this blog.
So, for those who celebrate, merry X-mas, happy hanukah, or Kwanza. And if you dont fall into any of those category, well,... congrats on having some days off.
Im right now at Narita, Tokyo airport waiting to go home to my family.
I am convinced that being a stewardess is NOT my cuppa tea. yesterdays flight was the longest 13 hours of my ffffreaking life.
And in about an hour and a half, Ill go through another 7 (or 8?). I dont even dare checking my itinerary.
I had to leave my boyfriend on my birthday. And seeing him walking away at the airport was pretty hard. Yes, yes, its only for 2 and a half weeks, but he will not spend christmas and new years eve with me. Though hes pretty cool about it.
Now, for those who didnt wish me happy birthday, shame on you! Didnt you go to friendster & see the wrapped gift icon bliping in front of you by my picture???
Hehehe... just kidding. :P
But, yes, Im old, as old as,... uhm,... 21.
Yes, Im 21 again this year, next year I want to go with 59, coz like my coworker said, if you admit that you are 59, then in a year, youll retire and receive pention money every month.
Hm,....
Interesting.
Oh well... Im bored. Time crawls in an unbelievably slow speed when you are waiting for something.
And if youre wondering why i dont have any single quote marks in this posting, thats because I dont know how to make one. This computer im using in this public waiting room is set to japanese characters. I think Im satisfied enough to even be able to write this blog.
So, for those who celebrate, merry X-mas, happy hanukah, or Kwanza. And if you dont fall into any of those category, well,... congrats on having some days off.
Monday, December 19, 2005
I'm Coming, With 2 Big Luggages Full of Crap
Two more working days for me. Then I'm off to home.
As predicted, I'm going somewhere else after I land my butt home. We're going to Bali, which is not too bad, considering it's only a little bit more than an hour (compared to Hong Kong, around 4 hours).
I'm 95% done packing. I shocked everybody a few days ago when I told them I haven't packed, not a single thing. Then their wave of panic was contiguous enough to make me start packing (and done in a few hours,... thank you very much).
And I also went to the bank to get some crisp, clean, unfolded hundred dollars bill. To get the best rate, the year should be 2003 and up and the serial number should NOT begins with C or DB or DH.
Can you imagine how stupid those rules are?
Unbelievable.
The teller looked at me like I was mental. That was pretty embarrassing.
I only packed less than 10 pieces of clothing, I figured that since we have maids back home, I can just recycle them and wear them over and over again.
But then I called my mom & she start advising me about all the occasions I'll attend and what kind of clothing is appropriate, and now I have about 30 pieces of clothing, for the 13 days I'll be home.
Sigh...
And the shoes,... I'm not even going there.
Next step is to figure out on how I will sleep on the plane.
Thinking about buying some sleeping pills but, not really fond of the idea.
Plan B is to ask the lady in uniform to bring me something strong like vodka or something like that. That might work.
Lastly, prepare myself to face it.
And what is it? (This is so like that Ebay commercial).
It is my lovable, crappy Indonesia.
As predicted, I'm going somewhere else after I land my butt home. We're going to Bali, which is not too bad, considering it's only a little bit more than an hour (compared to Hong Kong, around 4 hours).
I'm 95% done packing. I shocked everybody a few days ago when I told them I haven't packed, not a single thing. Then their wave of panic was contiguous enough to make me start packing (and done in a few hours,... thank you very much).
And I also went to the bank to get some crisp, clean, unfolded hundred dollars bill. To get the best rate, the year should be 2003 and up and the serial number should NOT begins with C or DB or DH.
Can you imagine how stupid those rules are?
Unbelievable.
The teller looked at me like I was mental. That was pretty embarrassing.
I only packed less than 10 pieces of clothing, I figured that since we have maids back home, I can just recycle them and wear them over and over again.
But then I called my mom & she start advising me about all the occasions I'll attend and what kind of clothing is appropriate, and now I have about 30 pieces of clothing, for the 13 days I'll be home.
Sigh...
And the shoes,... I'm not even going there.
Next step is to figure out on how I will sleep on the plane.
Thinking about buying some sleeping pills but, not really fond of the idea.
Plan B is to ask the lady in uniform to bring me something strong like vodka or something like that. That might work.
Lastly, prepare myself to face it.
And what is it? (This is so like that Ebay commercial).
It is my lovable, crappy Indonesia.
Tuesday, December 13, 2005
Lefties Rule!
I don't think I ever reveal that I am a lefty. I eat, cook, write, hit, serve volleyball, brush teeth with my left hand. I only use my right hand to shake hands, use scissor (don't know why I am dexter for that one), dribble a ball and trim my left hand fingernails.
I hate it how the culture in my country always see the right hand to be the superior hand. The left should only be used for cleaning yourself up after you answer 'nature calls'.
I hate it when people asked me, "So, if you are a lefty, then with which hand do you clean after yourself in the restroom."
To be honest, I don't know, because I don't keep track. I guess it depends on which side the toilet tissue is placed.
Another thing that annoyed me so is the manner issue. "Don't use your bad hand when you hand people something. Hand it with your good hand".
What the hell is wrong with all the left hands in this world? Or at least in my home country.
My left hand is a good as the right one.
I really do appreciate my parents who never seem to care which hand I use.
My kindergarten teacher called my mom up for a meeting at school when I was 5 year old. She told my mom that she had been encouraging me to use my right hand. But I kept on using my left one. And every time I, subconsciously, moved the pencil to my left hand, she placed it back to my right one. She also showed my mom my workbook. None of them were finished. My progress was very slow.
My mom only said one sentence to her: "So? Let her use her left hand".
And ever since, I caught up and did just fine.
Another story, my elementary stupid headmistress nun caught me when I held the spoon with my left hand during class break. She, angelically, sat with me and tutored me to use my right hand, I had to finish my stupid lunch struggling with my right hand to get the last pieces of my meal.
Now, I am an adult and no one tells me what to do anymore. I'd like to meet my ex-headmistress and slap her with my left hand. That would be a great pay-off for all the snickers behind me when she 'tutored' me "How to Use Your Right Hand 101".
Too bad I'm not residing in Indonesia anymore, I'd start a Lefty Equality Campaign and gather all the lefties in the country, just to piss the "righteous" righties.
And when I have a kid and she/he is weird in a way, I'd teach him/her just to kick everybody's asses when they try to mold/tell/advise him/her any other way. Be proud of what your quirks are. Never yield to be common and be the same as the rest of the world. Yes, that's what I'm going to tell the kid.
I hate it how the culture in my country always see the right hand to be the superior hand. The left should only be used for cleaning yourself up after you answer 'nature calls'.
I hate it when people asked me, "So, if you are a lefty, then with which hand do you clean after yourself in the restroom."
To be honest, I don't know, because I don't keep track. I guess it depends on which side the toilet tissue is placed.
Another thing that annoyed me so is the manner issue. "Don't use your bad hand when you hand people something. Hand it with your good hand".
What the hell is wrong with all the left hands in this world? Or at least in my home country.
My left hand is a good as the right one.
I really do appreciate my parents who never seem to care which hand I use.
My kindergarten teacher called my mom up for a meeting at school when I was 5 year old. She told my mom that she had been encouraging me to use my right hand. But I kept on using my left one. And every time I, subconsciously, moved the pencil to my left hand, she placed it back to my right one. She also showed my mom my workbook. None of them were finished. My progress was very slow.
My mom only said one sentence to her: "So? Let her use her left hand".
And ever since, I caught up and did just fine.
Another story, my elementary stupid headmistress nun caught me when I held the spoon with my left hand during class break. She, angelically, sat with me and tutored me to use my right hand, I had to finish my stupid lunch struggling with my right hand to get the last pieces of my meal.
Now, I am an adult and no one tells me what to do anymore. I'd like to meet my ex-headmistress and slap her with my left hand. That would be a great pay-off for all the snickers behind me when she 'tutored' me "How to Use Your Right Hand 101".
Too bad I'm not residing in Indonesia anymore, I'd start a Lefty Equality Campaign and gather all the lefties in the country, just to piss the "righteous" righties.
And when I have a kid and she/he is weird in a way, I'd teach him/her just to kick everybody's asses when they try to mold/tell/advise him/her any other way. Be proud of what your quirks are. Never yield to be common and be the same as the rest of the world. Yes, that's what I'm going to tell the kid.
Sunday, December 11, 2005
Hi everyone, my name is ***, I'm a road rager.
I just come to realize lately this very bad pattern when I'm driving.
First of all, let me tell you my philosophy when I drive. I'm generous at giving people way. I let people change lane in front of me. As long as they give signal beforehand. That's because I'm jumpy and don't appreciate it when I got scared.
I'm also big at 'the right of way'. I honor those who came to the intersection first, and I will wait and let them pass first. I also yield when I'm going to a bigger street. I don't like it when some bozo just expects me to hit the brake just because they decided to heck with it and cut me.
Lastly, I'm a slow driver. Slow means that I obey the max speed limit. At most I would go 5 miles more than what the sign said. Why? Because I was stopped by a police officer once because I went 52 miles/ hr when I should go 40 miles/hr (thank goodness I could wiggle my way out of it. I know... I'm charming when I try to). Also, I live on the biggest street in the town and there, policemen are constantly hiding behind every single bushes they can find and jump to every car that passes by with speed more than the limit. If I get a dime for every police car I see on my way back and forth to the office, I'd be rich.
So, given my mental situation. It is bad to cut me. I will honk you like crazy and chase you down and give you angry expressions. I consider it very impolite. No manner at all.
So, never cut me.
Once, I was driving on the slowest lane and this car behind me just pass me by and cut me right in front of my nose. I think I know why he did it and that's because I wasn't fast enough. But heck, I was going 40 when the sign said 'speed limit 40'.
If you want to go faster, then be my guess and pass me by. I won't get mad.
But don't pass me by and cut my lane only a few feet way from my car.
That day, I got so mad that I chased him down and not realizing that I already passed my apartment.
Yeah. I'm crazy like that.
It's not recommended though. I turned my boyfriend white the other day when someone cut my lane.
I'm a road-rager.
My temper has always been sort of my weakness. The more I think about it, the more I started to remember all the similar kind of outbursts: like that guy I chased (together with the equally crazy roommate) because he groped my butt, or the bus I chased back home because it hit my dad's car & it attempted to run away (yes, I ran and chased it and hopped into the bus and yell at the driver to stop).
I turned my dad white that day.
Later that night, my dad knocked at my room, came in and hug me and said: "I really really appreciated what you did, Honey, but next time, just let it go, okay?"
So, hi everyone, my name is Bluecactus, and a I'm a road-rager trying to recover.
First of all, let me tell you my philosophy when I drive. I'm generous at giving people way. I let people change lane in front of me. As long as they give signal beforehand. That's because I'm jumpy and don't appreciate it when I got scared.
I'm also big at 'the right of way'. I honor those who came to the intersection first, and I will wait and let them pass first. I also yield when I'm going to a bigger street. I don't like it when some bozo just expects me to hit the brake just because they decided to heck with it and cut me.
Lastly, I'm a slow driver. Slow means that I obey the max speed limit. At most I would go 5 miles more than what the sign said. Why? Because I was stopped by a police officer once because I went 52 miles/ hr when I should go 40 miles/hr (thank goodness I could wiggle my way out of it. I know... I'm charming when I try to). Also, I live on the biggest street in the town and there, policemen are constantly hiding behind every single bushes they can find and jump to every car that passes by with speed more than the limit. If I get a dime for every police car I see on my way back and forth to the office, I'd be rich.
So, given my mental situation. It is bad to cut me. I will honk you like crazy and chase you down and give you angry expressions. I consider it very impolite. No manner at all.
So, never cut me.
Once, I was driving on the slowest lane and this car behind me just pass me by and cut me right in front of my nose. I think I know why he did it and that's because I wasn't fast enough. But heck, I was going 40 when the sign said 'speed limit 40'.
If you want to go faster, then be my guess and pass me by. I won't get mad.
But don't pass me by and cut my lane only a few feet way from my car.
That day, I got so mad that I chased him down and not realizing that I already passed my apartment.
Yeah. I'm crazy like that.
It's not recommended though. I turned my boyfriend white the other day when someone cut my lane.
I'm a road-rager.
My temper has always been sort of my weakness. The more I think about it, the more I started to remember all the similar kind of outbursts: like that guy I chased (together with the equally crazy roommate) because he groped my butt, or the bus I chased back home because it hit my dad's car & it attempted to run away (yes, I ran and chased it and hopped into the bus and yell at the driver to stop).
I turned my dad white that day.
Later that night, my dad knocked at my room, came in and hug me and said: "I really really appreciated what you did, Honey, but next time, just let it go, okay?"
So, hi everyone, my name is Bluecactus, and a I'm a road-rager trying to recover.
Thursday, December 08, 2005
Snow Dandruff
No 'warm' weather. Cancel 'warm' weather.
We have a snow storm at this very moment and I had the most intense drive back to home today. Only 2.5 miles away from the office, & I got home in about 30-40 minutes of driving.
It's crazy. I wonder how long it takes for my co-worker to drive back to her home on the far south side of Chicago suburb.
And this storm makes me look like I have a serious dandruff problem on my shoulder.
Sigh...
A tropical creature in this weather has the right to be grumpy.
We have a snow storm at this very moment and I had the most intense drive back to home today. Only 2.5 miles away from the office, & I got home in about 30-40 minutes of driving.
It's crazy. I wonder how long it takes for my co-worker to drive back to her home on the far south side of Chicago suburb.
And this storm makes me look like I have a serious dandruff problem on my shoulder.
Sigh...
A tropical creature in this weather has the right to be grumpy.
Time for Bikini?
After the freaking cold weather these past days, I heard that we're going to have some warm days. Warm days mean: days in lower forties Fahrenheit.
I can't believe the weatherman announced it as warm.
Should I be happy with 40F and run around in a bikini outside?
I heard Madonna new hit single. I don't like it. I'm old, I can't keep up with the new billboard top 40 or MTV hits. My boyfriend said my taste in music is no longer 'old school'. It has gone totally to 'oldies'.
I think he's right. I think I'd fit in perfectly well in the 50-ies with Ella Fitzgerald and such. But I don't think I can pull the role being a woman in the 50-ies. Plus, wearing a dress daily (sometimes in polka-dot motive variations) with full make-up and heels would freak the crap out of me.
I think I better go to bed. I don't know why I'm up at this hour of the day. This is a school day for crying out loud.
OK, I'm out.
I can't believe the weatherman announced it as warm.
Should I be happy with 40F and run around in a bikini outside?
I heard Madonna new hit single. I don't like it. I'm old, I can't keep up with the new billboard top 40 or MTV hits. My boyfriend said my taste in music is no longer 'old school'. It has gone totally to 'oldies'.
I think he's right. I think I'd fit in perfectly well in the 50-ies with Ella Fitzgerald and such. But I don't think I can pull the role being a woman in the 50-ies. Plus, wearing a dress daily (sometimes in polka-dot motive variations) with full make-up and heels would freak the crap out of me.
I think I better go to bed. I don't know why I'm up at this hour of the day. This is a school day for crying out loud.
OK, I'm out.
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