This has not happened before.

So I hardly have interest in phones. Sorry. I just don’t. Anyhows, this is the tale of the prankster getting pranked.

 

 

Scene: After a group gathering at the office, me and two others were cleaning up.

 

Me: hey! Someone left their phone here.

Girl 1: Oh, that’s [male colleagues]’s phone. Keep it. Wait for him to ask for it.

Me: (thinking it would be funny to see him run around looking for his phone) Ok, I’ll keep it.

 

So I wait for hours and hours (ok, that’s a lie. It was an hour and a half) before finally going up to him, take out the phone, and wave it in his face. He just looks at me back. Me, thinking he was being egoistic and not wanting to admit he had left his belongings helter skelter, pocketed the phone back in front of him and walked away.

 

Girl 1: Did he take it?

Me: No! He just stared at me.

Girl 1: Don’t give it to him. Let him ask for it.

Me: Ok.

 

I walk past Girl 2 who looks at me.

 

Me: (thinking she knows what it’s about) He didn’t take it. He just acted like it wasn’t his!

Girl 2 snickers and goes to her desk.

 

I continue to work another couple of hours, then finally before going home, I stop by the person whose phone I am in possession of.

 

Me: I am going home. Are you sure you don’t want your phone?

Him: Yes. Go home. I don’t want it. It’s not mine.

Me: Fine. I’m going home. You won’t see me until next week (threatens)!

Him: I don’t care. Go!

 

 

I leave the office area, go to the washroom, wait about a minute and march back to the office.

 

(to boss) Me: He was going to let me leave with his phone! That is the extent he would go to keep up his big fat ego!

Boss: whose phone?

Me: His! (points to male colleague)

Him: It’s not mine. This is mine (takes out phone)

At this point, another colleague joins us and looks at the phone I have. I start to feel uneasy about the situation.

Male colleague 2: Hey, isn’t that [Girl 2]’s phone?

 

Him: She thinks it’s mine because I was sitting where it was left.

 

Me: (sudden realization) But [Girl 2] asked me if [male colleague] had claimed his phone! Why would she do that?

 

Boss then takes the phone from me and goes to Girl 2. Girl 2 takes it and giggles. Everybody laughs.

 

Upon exiting the office, the other fella who was with me when I pocketed the phone looks at me, laughing.

 

Fella: So now you know whose phone it is?

Me: Omg!! So you knew?

 

 

 

I am confused. Who pranked who? And who knew about it??

A new year is fast approaching

No, not a list of New Year's Resolutions, but a planned out year of magnificent challenges.






Yes, you are always in my thoughts. Always.

Yes I will get to these

Psychosomatic illnesses and upturned boats

"It's over there!"

Enjoy.

Strategies will have to change..you thought you had it all ironed out, but now here's your curve-ball.

What have I been Googling that has warranted an emergence of Tabasco sauce adverts to pop up at my sidebars? All over the place!!

Yes I am!

Making a salad is more than just tossing objects around. There re ingredients to be chosen, dressings to be selected and you toss not to flaunt culinary skills, but to get all the ingredients mixed well together.


I am trying to make a salad indoors.


You, on the other hand, are tossing autumn leaves outdoors on a winter's day and saying "Hey, they be green stuff too, and I'm tossing them about just like you" as you heave your big rake and toss your leaves up in the air.



No, you may think you are making a salad, but really, one wouldn't expect a carrot to swim, and I won't expect you to understand the difference.

I don't know if this will make sense, but....

Negative forces.



Remember that a ship can only be sunken if the sea gets into it. That is, if the ship is broken in some part, and in turn allows the water to pour through. Even one as great as the Titanic cracked and crumbled when the damage was too great.

Being on the sea is not the same as being a part of it.

The sea water, it is salty, no?
But what of the fish in the sea? Is the flesh of the fish salty?

These fish live their lives swimming in the sea, yet the saltines does not seep into them. They live.

How of those up high on the ship's deck? Are they part of the sea? No, they are on their isolated world, believing that they are living the life of the seas. They  know not of the current's strength, let alone how to swim against it. They sit on their decks ooh-ing and ahh-ing in amusement at the ups and downs the sea brings them.

In the open sea, they fear. They fear that should there be any break in their saviour, the almighty ship, then they will surely drown. For they have not lived the lives of the fish in the sea. They are not born for that. Is it fair then to judge a human for its capability to swim and live. In the sea as such a fish?

To make sure that their ship does not break, they make rules. Rules that they must all abide by. Any risk of the ship being broken must be immediately taken down. For they fear what will happen should they be part of that sea. Do not even speak of wanting the sea water. Bad luck, they say.

So there they stand, on the decks, and as the occasional splatter of the waves comes up to them, they are quick to wipe it away.

What would they say if anyone declared they wanted to jump into the sea? "No, we must stop him. That is our duty to save him"

















Forgive them for their ignorance, for it stems from the fear of the unknown. They fear the worst, and can only assume the worst.
You. You can be that generation that breaks free that ignorance. Embrace. Accept. Love. Instead of judging and isolating as they have done, educate.

The ones who have knowledge of the strength of the current are more likely able to overcome it.

May I never be like that.

Bad things happen.
You fall down,
You trip over your brother's toy.
Your tray of food clatters to the floor.



Even worse when it happens in public.



But the difference, is in your grace and humility in accepting the situation. Whether you break into a string of profanity, you start blaming the staff f the facility, you lash out at your companions,.. that is all you.


Falling might have been bad luck, but bad behaviour? That is all you.

Jump into the wagon, we will.

Recently it made news that a boy of 15 chose to quit school, and marry a girl of a similar age.

(Seriously, this is what journalism has become.)

 

 

The nation has gone in an uproar, celebrities have come out to gain their share of the limelight and given opinion into the matter, various “concerned” parties have emerged and spoken of this traffic-stopping occurrence.

 

“They aren’t mature enough to understand the responsibility of being a husband/wife, let alone to be a parent!”

 

“They should focus on getting an education instead of marriage”

 

“How can he support a wife when he can’t even buy his own underpants?”

 

“Good, this will prevent them from pre-marital sins”

 

“What a waste of his youth. Why rush into marriage when there are so many things he hasn’t gone through yet on his own?”

 

 

 

I shall now tell a story.

 

There was a girl who struggled all through school. Never got good grades, barely passed to get herself a certificate. Couldn’t write an essay in her native language if her life depended on it, and any maths beyond the basic + - is far beyond what she could handle.

 

Her elder sister, well, her sister wasn’t brilliant either. But she passed all her exams, some even with good grades. She joined school activities, and was a prefect (ok, it may be a foreign term to some of you. Prefects are the ones who get to monitor us lowly delinquent students and report to the teacher. Like cops, but without the donuts and coffee.). She finished school, went off to college, where she passes all her exams..some good grades here and there.

 

After finishing school, the younger sister announces that she will not be pursuing any tertiary education, and instead will marry a boy who has asked for her hand. Not that it matters to the story, but the boy happens to live in the house across the road from the girl. He was a similar age to her, had no job, and wasn’t planning to go to college either.

The family is horrified.

How could she be so short-sighted of her future? How could she not give herself that chance of at least trying to go to college, so she could get a decent job, so she can better provide for her future, as well as the future of her children? How would the boy support her?

“Look at your sister! When she finishes college, she will have a degree, get a high paying job, then she can marry and live comfortably. Even if her husband leaves her, she will have her education, and she will have a job so she can support herself and her children. You? You will always be dependent on your husband, and what can he provide for you?”

 

 

Both sisters look at each other.

 

 

Regardless, the younger sister is married off to the boy of her choice. She remains a stay-at-home wife, and soon a bundle of joy is announced.

 

 

I’ll fast forward the story several years.

 

The elder sister has completed her degree, and now has that high paying job everyone spoke of. She has all the designer clothes, when she walks into a room she smells of fairytale happy endings wrapped in angel dust. Ok, that’s an exaggeration. But you get the point. She drives a car of her own, lives in the city in a place she has all to herself, and any bill that needs to be paid when the family goes out is always taken care of by her.

 

The younger sister, now has two very active children running at her feet. Yes, they are all over the house and at the same time manage to also always be under her feet. Her clothes were bought at the local discount store, she hasn’t seen the inside of a restaurant since the last time the elder sister decided to treat the whole family to a dinner out. Her fingernails were shriveled and pruned, her hair thinning out from her last pregnancy.

 

One day, at the dinner table, the mother pointedly asks the elder sister

“…and you, when are you going to settle down? Enough of all this ‘fun’ you think you are having. It is time you take on more responsibility. Look at your sister, she already has two children. You? What do you have other than pointless material possessions?”

 

 

 

************************************

 

People forget, that all choices come with some sort of sacrifice. The only question is whether you are aware of those sacrifices at the time you make those choices. Knowing those sacrifices, and weighing them cost-over-benefit before jumping into those choices; that is maturity.

Maturity does not come with age. It increases as we get older, perhaps; but not all of us mature at the same rate.

Instead of judging right from wrong, wouldn’t the world be so much better if we tried to understand each other first, before giving our “concerned” thoughts of the matter?

Painful, but necessary.

I know it needs to be done. But comfort, that longing for stability; that has started its clutch upon me.

If only, if only
The woodpecker sighs..



No, I shall not be the singer of that song. Most people have it all set, to follow that all known path. That is why it is called the norm. That is why it surprises them so much. That is why they will fail to comprehend.


But me? No.

Someday, somehow... one step at a time.

There's a first time for everything.

Kids, please turn away. This is not kid-appropriate. I repeat, this is not kid-appropriate.

 

A friend had seen me returning after a run. He asks what I had been doing…I told him I had been running and just finished. He said I looked like I had just come out of the office (no sweating like the pig I should be sweating like). I told him I don’t sweat easily. He said that perhaps I should try the sauna, and that will help me train my body to break sweat.

 

 

So I did.

 

 

 

I wrapped a towel around my head (otherwise my hair would be dry), a bigger one around my body, and stepped gingerly into the sauna. Now, to wait. I covered my face with the towel. I had to loosen the towel around my body so I could have some cloth to reduce the pain of breathing in hot air. I close my eyes. Mind starts wandering.

 

 

The door opens softly.

 

 

A girl walks in. The first thing I see as I open my eyes, are b***s. I turn my eyes down so as not to be looking at those b***s.

 

 

She wasn’t wearing any bottoms.

 

 

Not even holding a towel. Meaning, she walked in bu** n***d.

 

 

I tried not to feel alarmed, but suddenly the air felt painful to breathe in, mind starts swirling, and knees start trembling.

 

 

Holy

 

Mother

 

Of

 

GOD.

 

 

She proceeds to climb up the sauna seats. Yes, UP. And the sauna room isn’t that big so by her climbing up, of you can just imagine how I prayed no unwarranted odours reached my stinging nose.

 

She proceeds to throw some water onto the rocks, and lay down.

 

Feet facing me. If I just turned towards her, oh…….

 

 

 

All I could think of, was that if I were a dude, I would be the luckiest dude. But I’m not a dude. And this is not at all enjoyable.

 

That’s when the fun started.

 

 

She started moaning. Moaning!!!!

 

Lying down, bu** n***d, MOANING!!!!!!

 

Why…..why,…..why do these things happen to me??

Thank you, God…hope you’re enjoying your sitcom of my life.

 

After what felt like an eternity of her moaning, and some of my blood starts circulating again, she sits up. I can feel her look at me.

 

“No, it’s better to take off, easier to sweat….” She says.

*I can almost tell what was going to transpire, but I was almost powerless to prevent it.*

She bends towards me, and starts unravelling my towel. It was already loosened, so this wasn’t that difficult; except that I was holding up bits of dignity with my forearm.. She gently moved my arms apart and discovers……

 

 

 

“Oh! You’re wearing panties! You can take that off”

 

 

Holy Mother of….^&%*^$*$#%$@%#*(^%(*%^#@$

 

Does this not sound to you like the beginning of a porn video?? Who else does this happen to? Who???

 

 

And whether you are already thinking that this is the highlight of the story, think again!! It is not!

 

 

As she bends down to push my towel away, her aforementioned b**b gently waves into my face.

 

Houston, we have a b**b in the face!!! I repeat, we have a b**b in my face!!!!

 

 

 

 

 

I wanted to cry!

 

I tried to move away from the b**b, but I was already against the wall. I had nowhere to run. It was either the scalding heat of the wall, or the b**b.

In this series of unfortunate events, my slight movement caused her to lurch forward and instead of the b**b just waving into me “Hello”, it was now securely planted against the side of my face.

 

I could see n***** from the corner of my eye! It was brown, and pointy!!! Oh my God, whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy…..

 

 

 

 

She is finally happy with what she has done to me, and returns to her previous position, which I initially found disturbing, but this time it became a comfort that at least it was out of my face.

 

She leaves the sauna about a minute later. Relieved, I count to ten and decide to leave as well. I decided to go to the steam bath to “sweat” since the sauna just gave me cold feet and an almost heart seizure.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And there she was I the steam bath.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I swear I saw her go down the steps to the locker area!! B*** n***d, and to the locker room! But no, it had all been planned out for me.

 

 

 

 

No occurrences to be reported in the steam bath. I proceed to shower, and change.

 

 

There she was, in the locker area, with only panties on.

 

 

 

Now I wonder:

Since I saw her, I have not seen whereabouts of any towels. Could it be that she forgot them? There were none near her as she dressed….

 

 

 

 

voiture

I think of you, and what could have been.
But you let me go...



I could've been a princess, you'd be my king...
But no, you let me go.

All in a Day’s Work

 

 

One.

I was driving out to lunch. Slightly groggy, and the window no longer rolls down so I have to open the door to get to the parking thing. Instead of pressing the brakes to slow down, I press on the honk. One clear, low honk echoes through the still parking lot. Security guards rush out to see what the commotion is. They see nothing but me in the car. Calmly tapping at the parking thing. No accident, no wild dogs blocking the way, nothing wrong with the parking thing. I proceed to calmly drive out. Security guards are bewildered, I am embarrassed, but no longer groggy.

 

 

 

 

 

Two.

She was getting dressed, and her friend comes along remarking “My goodness, your shorts are so short!!!” (I am reminded of the Psammead-keeper’s escalator encounter). The following conversation ensues:

Friend: Eh, your shorts are d**n short!!

Shorts: Huh? Can see a**?

Friend: Yes!!

Shorts: Where?

(at this point I wish I could say “There, right behind your knee-caps.” I mean, where else would your a** be?)

Friend proceeds to poke at Shorts’ behind, where she sees a**.

Shorts: You poke inside, of course got a**. (huffs)

Friend: Yes, can see… (proceeds to turn her head upside down, squinting at Shorts’ a**. But you have quite a nice a**, so I suppose it’s ok.

Shorts: Really? You think so?

 

 

This goes on for about 10 minutes.

 

 

 

Three

I exit this room daily and I am almost always alone in doing so. I am the one who turns on the lights, so I make sure I turn it off as I leave. Except today, I wasn’t alone. However, being the habitual creature that I am, my hand automatically went to the switches and turned off the lights. DESPITE, smiling a polite goodbye to the other two in the room as I was leaving. Tsk Tsk…

 

The funny part was in the few milliseconds it took for me to realize there were people still in the room, these two started proclaiming loud ghoul-banishing chants…it was pretty serious for a moment. I turned the lights on and poked my head in to apologize.. they said all was good.

 

 

 

Four

She had a tube top on. I was curious if she had exercised with that on..because those tend to slip down, even when you’re not moving rigorously. But at the same time it did look sports-y. I looked on, and as I did, she just took it off!!

I don’t regularly see topless females. It can be quite traumatizing. In this case, I would rate it a 4. The scene wasn’t horrific, but the action was.

So she proceeded to move around with those two just flapping freely about. I’m afraid to go to sleep now.

When profound thoughts emerge.

So I needed to use the lady’s, but the cleaners had locked it for cleaning. I tracked my way back through the office area, through another door, to the big pantry, and to another toilet on the other side. On my way I ran into one of my office colleagues, and on the office floor we paused briefly to say hello. As I was exiting the door at the other end of the office, that colleague I had said hello to was pushing the toilet door open. We both knew that we were there as a result of the door on the other side being locked.

 

It got me thinking.

 

We make independent decisions, based on our individual wants and needs, we encounter blocks along the way, or fast forwards as well. However, destiny sometimes aligns so that we still meet at some convergent point. We may have chosen different paths in life, struggled through our own toils and troubles, be brought there by different motivations; but if it was written that we meet at that checkpoint, then so it shall be.

 

 

 

 

All this, from a trip to the loo.

Reminders of you

I had a long memory recall. I was uncomfortable throughout the whole ordeal, but I made it through anyways. The brain does magic, it does. You might think that small little things have made it out of your mesh, but no. It is still there, and every now and again you'll have subtle reminders that they are still there. Still there.

I am part of this.

Thank you, for making me feel welcome. Not like the chucked away cigarette butt after a much needed smoke. Thank you for taking the time to notice small little details and telling me about them. I feel truly included; not just part of some hocus pocus fake attempt at inclusion.

Alex the Lion swing left and right.

 

 

 

I know I’ve written about this before, but I just cannot stress how much I cannot stand strangers invading my personal space. Especially when it is unwarranted, unnecessary, and done so repeatedly. I can’t stand it. If you do this to me, please know that I am mentally flipping tables at your unborn children to avenge the annoyance you have caused me. Trust me, if it weren’t for the threat of going to jail, this would be the main reason I would be committing murder.

 

So today we are at a small stall about to buy food. I have been standing in the same spot for about 7 minutes. She was at the other end of the hawker stall. She wants the hawker to pack some beef for her. She moves closer. I sense it coming. She stretches out her hand. I know it. It’s going to happen. She places her finger on the beef tray. Her wrist…her wrist (takes deep huffing breaths) rests on my folded arm. Mine! Lady, my hairy arm has been in that spot for the past 8 minutes now. What makes you think it is ok to rest your unthinking arm on mine? I do not know you. I do not wish to be intimate with you. By intimate, I mean to say I do not want any of your body parts on me. Even if this were just for a brief moment for you to point to the beef tray, have you not the ability to do so without coming into contact with me? Grazing my arm would irritate me already, but having you rest your arm upon mine….ohhhhhhhhhhh….

 

 

 

SO.

 

 

 

In honor of you, I shall list the various things I wish I could do to you, and the rest of you who like to invade random people’s personal space:

1.       In a queue, when the person comes up to my back and I can see the side of her face from the corner of my eye, I wish to smack them right on the nose. SMACK!!!! And I have pretty long fingers. They sting.

2.       When at the hypermarket, and their cart pushes into my butt, I wish I could start taking out items from their cart and put it elsewhere, like in the baskets near the counter. When they ask what the h*** am I doing, I’ll say “well, you involved my butt in your grocery shopping, so I figured I’d choose what I don’t want you to buy.”

3.       Seriously, I want to smack them in the face. High five. In the face.

4.       On the bus, when they spread their legs until it rests on my leg, I wish to take a picture of our touching knees and look at the person saying “this is going on Instagram as the obnoxious things people do on the bus”

5.       To the lady who rested her hand on my arm, I want to start yelling like Drago Bludvist calling for his Alpha, complete with wildly waving my arms above my head.

 

 

 

I wish I could mail this list to Santa.

Get ready, set,.....Go!!!

One after another, adventures are to be had. He was right, I had to be here to enable these little bouts of fear. And much fear do I feel....

If you give it thought, then justification should only be to yourself.

Why do I do this?
Because I can. Because I want to. I want to. This is not for show, not for the glamour (is there any?), not for bragging rights. I want it for me. It becomes me.


When will I stop?
When I decide I have had enough. When I find another way of feeding my mind, my soul.



What do you gain from it?
Well, if you buy a pair of shoes, you gain a pair of shoes, but you lose a certain amount of money. Same concept here, but I gain a kindred soul and an active mind.

Obsession with llamas.

I think it is because of their long necks. Not too long like a giraffe's, but quite long in itself. Also, their smiles.

What I have forgotten

As I am busy growing up, finding my place in this big, lonely world, my parents are growing old.

Canada and Indonesia

I've only heard nice things of you, Canada. And met plenty nice people to match.
Oh, and I know the story behind Indonesia...



Regardless, Hello!