Being honest with myself...
To really grow..a woman has to be honest with herself. Strip away all the mask that make them who they are. From young, we look upon that mask of make-up and jewels and pretty clothes and flirty smiles but fail to look at the person underneath all that.
When you see a pretty hot babe, you think wow....cute ass. But we never see them for their sad eyes or burdened heart. Lately I begin to see beyond all these, the exterior mode of pretense beauty and charm. I look straight into their eyes, seeing a little of my pathetic self which I detest. But it is not to say they are pathetic, more of a salutation to their strength.
I like to eat. It is my comfort food. When I am sad, I eat. And it is bad....the cause of my overweight self.
However, talking bout pretty girls...I had a really funny/weird story to tell.
Last Saturday, as I did my open at the petrol station. I was greeted by a very early customer. Clubbing victims. I hate these customers because they are always drunk. This time...it was a couple. He comes in demanding cash out and I said he needed to purchase something first before I could process through his transaction. Minutes later jumps in a hot bimbo girl asking if we had hot food. I apologetically said no. I understand the need for food after a drunken night.
While she whines away, she starts pulling at her top...a halter that barely covers her breast. *pop* Lo and behold, her tits pop out...nipples erect for all, me & cameras to see. She did not seem to notice and I knew she would not care if I told her of this. I, myself, was embarrassed for her. I felt heat rushing to my face as I turned my face away. And as she was bouncing around the store, boobs showing, I noticed something weird. Her breasts do not bounce as she jumps around. It was rigid like agar-agar and not movable like jell-o. OHHHH...plastic surgery at such a young age? I was shocked and amazed.
It seemed she had it all...a eventful party life, a great body and a greater looking boyfriend. But she did not! Sadly, as she walked out dejected after a passionate kiss with him in front of me, he looked at me in despair saying, "Have you ever experienced one of those nights where you get so drunk and you don't know how you got stuck with her?"
I felt sorry for the girl. Despite her horrendous bimbo acts, she is just a woman in want of attention and love. And even drunk and all available....she is unwanted. How could he have kissed her so lovingly yet seconds later utter his disgust for her.
Life is difficult...beautiful or not!
At this moment of time when my body is heating up, taste buds are blend and my body is too weak to move....there are two places I wish to be. A home where mommy will take care of me...yummy food...maybe omit the nagging. The other one would be to be in his loving arms....placing a bowl of instant noodles when I wake up...knowing I am safe.
But I do not have both. However, I can surely say I am independent. Here I am...alone in my home...walking around drowsy with really yucky soup which I made. But whatever happens I know I will survive.
It is one of those sickness where you just wanna down ten million panadols and sleep all day. But with work and the stupidly hot weather...both doesn't seem appealing; but maybe the panadol would be a good idea.
Talking about getting sick...I remember all those times I got sick and why to this day I never like being alone when I am sick.
8 years old...
My first high fever. I was confined to my room and to test how sick I was my mom would ask me to spell 'butterfly'. Each time I got it wrong...I had to drink a pot of foul tasting Chinese herb thingie. And each time...repeated I would get it wrong. I used to curse (in the most innocent way) how idiotic I was to get the same word wrong so many times. When I finally got it right 6 pots later, my mom said I was doing loads better.
13 years of age...
Chicken pox. I was confined to my parents' room...the only air conditioned room in the whole house. As I was so old when I got my chicken pox, everything was fairly more difficult. The poxes were everywhere and bleeding profusely, I was too sick to move. And all I had to entertain me was the tiny TV and a lonesome book. My lunch and dinner consist of mee sua(soft glass noodles) with vegetables. 2 weeks later, I was sick of the food I was eating and finally I was getting better so my mom added meat in it. And since I was so contagious, my mom was the only one who saw me. Everyone stood at the door once in a while to say hi. It was a horrid moment...especially looking in the mirror at my moon crater face. But at least I got off my KH assignment.........and no school for a month...YEAH!
1 years ago...
I had him. Overtired from exams again. He made sure I slept while he was next to me. The sweetest moment of all was waking up to a bowl of yummy instant noodles he made just for me. It was a warm feeling of content. A experience I know many happy lovers and couples out there have felt....
My housemates who complain I am never home when they need me is now nowhere to be seen. Me, who always love food, suddenly refuse to eat the bowl of soup made with love by yours truly. I feel it is bland and tasteless. But my comfort is the bible by my bed and the tv near by. However, this time it is a little boring as elections is on.....and politics is not my forte and reading makes my head ache. Mr. Panadol fills the gap of Mr. Right and the fan doesn't seem cool enuough. Because all those years I have been pampered by having someone around when I was sick to care and love me, today I feel the loss of them. I miss mommy and I miss having someone. But whichever way, I am growing up, and its time for me to not depend so much on them....
Time to grow up....akakakkaka.....God help me and guide me pls!
The headache is constant. There is not a moment that passes without my throbbing head getting in the way. My weariness of sleeping non stop especially during the exam week is killing me. I am cranky, and pissed at everyone.
I am praying that I am not sick as my full alertness is required for my last exam in 6 hours. But I know, finally after that, I am able to admit I am sick and exhausted. Yet, work greets me in another 24 hours. Does it ever end? I sigh. My only answer to everything recently.
Exams & headaches the size of Cancun!
Sorry for the lack of updates...been stressed with exams and working. I am utterly exhausted and like Michael Buble puts it..."Women do get weary!".
I was going thru a rough week especially knowing he was so close by and wishing I was there to help him through everything. But because I am not...I feel as if the world is talking on the same wave lengths. I am a vivid fan of Kenny Sia
and just a few days ago he said and I qoute;
"But what seperates the kind of fights that break relationships and the ones that make couple grow closer together is how you resolve it, and also how sincere you are in resolving it.
Every couple fights. But every fight is also an opportunity to get everything you want out of your system and to learn more about one another. Every cold war is a time for us to reflect on our own actions and our partner's words. After that, there should be a phone call or a text. No matter how stubborn a person is, no one can be so stubborn until they'd turn down a chance to genuinely compromise, reconcile, and make things better."
And I think about the moment when I became not worth resolving the fights anymore. That it was just too much work for him to work things out. And I sighed....
Minutes later, I googled up "How do you stop loving someone who doesnt love you?". Yes...the wonders of google...
And I found myself shocked at answers I dread even admitting it might be true.
said "Guess what? Sometimes you never stop loving that person and you may even love that person until the day you die. Hard to face the truth, but if you truely did love someone it will never go away. We go on with our live's and maybe just maybe we can get through a day with out thinking of him or her. It is called survival!"
With that...I was speechless.....
-to be continued-
3000 km away...
He is here...in the same continent as me. And he did not call to inform me or to ask me if I wanted to drop by or if he could drop by. And my heart crushes to bits knowing he is 3000 km away but his heart is even further from me.
And I love him. Hard core, forever strong, 'I am always fine' Erin falls deeply in love with a man who no longer loves her. This Erin....the same woman that keeps telling herself she doesn't need a man in her life. She thought she was better and she could survive. Then, a handsome man shakes her boat....telling her its ok to let love in...and she did.
She finally felt the perfect safety net - cuddling together; the one thing place where she doesn't need a mask, knowing she doesn't have to take care of everything all the time...that she doesn't have to be perfect and strong all the time. She felt safe and happy. And some days she curse at God for taking it away. Some days she begs God to give it back. But most days she just cries knowing she will never feel it again.
Then, the next morning, eyes swollen and having slept alone....longing all thru the sleepless night to feel his arms around her again...she puts her mask back on. Ready to take on the world and thinking if she focus on her other dreams ( where in fact the truth pales in comparison of her one true dream of being with him ) she might some how survive and put behind the heart break and horrible-ness of how life feels.
And this makes me...all the more pathetic and weak.....right?
---------------------- An hour later --------------------------
A friend points out what I am doing to myself is bad for me. Working every day and studying and sleeping only 4-5 hours during exam week is going to cost me. But I don't have enough time to earn that amount for next semester and I gotta study too...I can't fail.
So here I am...confronted that my mask is not working. Being told that I cannot do it all. But the problem is....I do it because it is the only way I can do it. I HAVE TO do it all...because who is going to catch me if I fall? Who?
No one right? Not even the guy who told me forever. So, someone tell me, if I don't do it all....how then? Who will cover up my slack...who will pick up from where I left off....who....no one but lonely old me....
Red swollen feet soaking in a white tub of cold water. AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH the ultimate relief for pain after a whole week of standing at my counter, being a sweet little Asian cashier chick.
But it is not that fun...
Mornings start at 5am with a long tedious walk in the dark for 40 minutes. Then pursues a long hour of weight lifting...milk cartons and tonnes of newspapers. The muscles are already aching by then and the stomach rumbles for food. In between all that, I must be perky and smile an excited greeting to every customer that walks in.
By mid day, my smile is weakening and my body wilts from the agony of torture. An attractive lady emerges from a beautiful white sleek Mercedes. She walks up to the counter...grabs a newspaper and presents it to me. I grab it to scan and smiles politely, giving her my cheerful 'good mornings'. She passes me a 50 dollar note. I curse inwardly....the paper is only 2 dollars babe. At least buy something else to help the transaction. Irritation sets in but my smile is plastered on tight. She offers no thank you and walks away with her change. 3 minutes later, she comes in demanding that I have not given her the right change. I smile politely, indicating that I did. She screams in anger and demands loudly while other customers look on. I look at what she has in her hand...it was short by 70 cents. I gave her another 70 cents cursing again at the fact that I will have to supply 70 cents from my wallet.
As she grabs the change rudely to go...she drops a two dollar coin into the chocolate shelf. She asks me for another..I refuse this time as I have given the right change into her hands and it is her responsibility to hold on to it. She throws a tantrum and shoves all the chocolate to the floor. I am pissed but I say nothing. My mind playing a horror scene of slapping her beautiful face to pieces. She storms away angry....and the 2 dollar coin falls from her jacket.
I smile..."IDIOT!" I think. The customer waiting laughs at her outburst. Screams after her in a sarcastic tone, "HAVE A NICE DAY!". After serving the other customers, I am now kneeling on the floor stacking the chocolate display she has destroyed deliberately in her tantrum.
I shake my head...sadden by how one has matured in years but still has a brain of a 5 year old. Money indeed does not make one better...and in her case....left her standing in grade school in her cute pig tails. I might have a horrible job...but I can smile and laugh at her stupidity. She...I don't think she will ever learn....or ever grow up....
What do you think?
This is what I do not understand. Are women really that clueless in house electronics? A few months ago...my housemates tried to change the light bulb in the toilet. We were not successful. Then, a few minutes later, room no.2 decided to change her yellow light bulb to a white light one. Later on, the lights in room no.1 crashed. When the four girls in my house attempted to change that one, we once again failed. The next day, an electrician had to be called and the landlord warned us never to touch a light bulb-that he "lived nearby enough to be called if anything needed to be changed".
We heeded his advice, initially. Then, we got bored of waiting. Oh well...tenant in room no.2 anyway. So she changed her light bulb on her own. Outcome...you guessed it? I am sitting in darkness, illuminated only by the light of my laptop and a small desk lamp...all the lights in the house blew. This is not my idea of how I was going to study...ARGH...horror!
Are we women really that clueless when it comes to the men's department? Or are we just plain dumb?
I always prided myself on being an independent woman of the modern age. I have run a house practically on my own...assembling furniture when other men have given up. Yet, today, I am faced with the dilemma that maybe I am not really 'all-that'.
Do we really need men? Are we weak damestrels in distress waiting to be saved?
My answer to these questions is reflected on the face of my angry landlord and his sour face as money is sucked from his wallet as he pays the electrician the first time around. Tomorrow, I am glad that I am working and not here to see his heart crumble from the damage.
Back home in Malaysia....I was the 'man'. Literally. I am serious...do not laugh! My dad and bro...both always too busy to help out in the house. So mom depends on me to fix stuff. Yet today on my own I am lost. Worried and dreaming of someone to sweep me off my aching feet.
Do you think there comes a time where a woman's body give up on trying so hard to be independent because it is time for her eggs to be hatched? Is it like clock-work that our physical anatomy reflects what we emotionally yearn for? Were men actually right when they said we women couldn't live without them?
I refuse to think so. For me...it is hard enough to ask for a ride from someone. Even if that means walking around in the dark for 40 minutes..I still refuse..maybe because of pride but mostly I think it is from my upbringing that I am not worth the trouble. Sorry mom! Haha family issues akkakak...low self esteem. But if we keep looking for the handsome prince on the white horse....then we risk missing the cute guy in the monkey suit jumping around or just the wonders of beach and sun with girl friends....whichever way I guess we just try to survive. With or without a man!!!
Ever felt that you were invisible? That people walk pass you and not see you? Well...for your information...my height is 4 feet 11 inches. And that is a height easy for oversight. A jumping midget waving hi at you from such a height would not get your attention.
Besides being such a shortie...hahaha...some time or maybe most of the time I feel like I blend into the background. Some people have a hard time not fitting in because they are too outstanding, my problem is that I fit in too well....that no one seems to notice me.
So unless I turn into a gigantic green man with muscular arms the size of Tokyo, I still remain...short and unnoticed. And it hurts...hurts real bad.
It hurts bad when people seem to want to erase you from the past. As if you were not worth remembering. That any trace of my tyranny would cause defect to something good. I reached out to a friend in time of need, my good intention once again fall on unfertile ground...deletion.
I try so hard to be happy. So hard....and I seem to blend in better to the pink and white walls around me. Why am I so good at lying? Why so great at hiding? So great til I am unseen. Can you imagine...I have been in my church for a year...and till today people think I am a first time visitor. Such bliss maybe...that they dun bug me for stuff kakakak.
See...there are some good and bad to this....but mostly I just want it to mean something to somebody. I want to have touched someone's heart. Why is it that I remember every detail of how someone has touched my life? But I have not touched anyone's life at all.....
Sadly (with tears flowing down my cheeks and irritation at a girl who won't mind her business), almost 2 years together and I did not touch any heart...what does that mean? I am forgotten?
I remember a promise I made to my super duper best friend a few years ago...to explore the high society of Italy with him...bringing along our love of our lives.....and just enjoying the wonders of Italy. *btw I still remember it k*
And as usual Friday comes with the expectation of a great dinner with great company. Yes...cell group...loads of "too-much-food" and fantastic conversation. This time we decided to venture into an italian restaurant somewhere I do not know.
Food....first rate WOW fantastic. Atmosphere....mind blowing orgasm! It was that great. This was the utter reminder of why I always loved Italy. The moment you step into the restaurant, you will be greeted with; a friendly smile, loud noises, shouting voices and a heavy cloud of cheese & cream. My first reaction was to choke from the claustrophobia...imagine an ant colony of millions in a small little test tube. That is how I felt in that over-crowded restaurant.
As I squeezed my fat ass into a cramped seat, my eyes start wondering around..eying the hot waiters and exquisite paintings on the wall...not to mention the laminated newspaper review wrapped around pasta...cliche. The two owners are roaming the room, making jokes with clients and hitting on pretty girls using their romantic italian...blurring them out of their phone numbers. Their pizza delivery guy enters the room and they pat him on the back. Now, that is what I call staff relations.
Dinner was amazing....plates of calzone, pizza, ravioli, cream pasta and bolognese sat in front of me. I had a piece of everything. Some...not all k....I am not that greedy. Time for cute waiter to come gather the plates....and he starts flirting with little missy on my right...
Missy on right: Excuse me...here you go! (she hands him the remaining plates)
Cute waiter: Oh thanks...you have great potential to be a waiter.
Me: (the busy body as usual) Any openings available for her?
Cute waiter: I don't think guys have any openings.
Girls around me: *shocked look* (so inappropriate!)
I almost wanted to scream at him..."So where does your pee and shit come from? No opening...ish ish!"
But I refrained myself. It would have been a funny joke at a different circumstance. Maybe if he didn't say it with such a straight face, it wouldn't have given us such horrific heart attacks...