Show And Tell

I watched The Nanny Diaries on Saturday morning - Chris Evans was very cute in there and Scarlett, ahh Scarlett, was beautiful as always. Had a quick lunch after prayers before meeting up with my friends to watch Beauty and The Beast Broadway Musical at the KLCC Convention Centre. We were made to wait a blinking 67 minutes before the show started, no thanks to a technical glitch. But the wait was thankfully worth it and I enjoyed the show, the music, singing and dancing, the costumes, backdrop and props, the lighting and sound effect. It was all very enjoyable and would have scored a perfect ten had it not been for the terribly long wait.

And it still would have been a perfect day had I not find myself getting increasingly annoyed, irritated and pissed off with a friend with her comments: about me still working at TheOrganisation; her numerous remarks about the outdoor parking when I had already politely told her that Lin had parked there before; her insistent manners which bordered on her being bossy and domineering; her know-it-all attitude about the convention centre and Broadway shows; and for making me walk all the way to KLCC only to have to double back to Mandarin Oriental to perform my prayers when I could have had just taken a direct route there all by myself.

For the record, there is nothing wrong with working where I am and for that matter, where anyone is working. And there is nothing wrong for having stayed at any workplace for any length of time. Besides, a colleague of this particular friend even resigned from their workplace and joined TheOrganisation. I also didn’t care about the outdoor parking especially when I don’t even drive. And I had organised an event at the convention centre only seven months earlier and pretty much know my way around – enough to know that we could have taken another elevator instead of the one we took which resulted in us having to walk through the car-park.

I don’t know why I felt so irritated with her or why I found her remarks that day especially annoying. Oh, I had on previous occasions listened to her criticise about singers that I liked (like Mariah Carey) and I just shut up. But I did feel annoyed with her bossiness and insistent behaviour that Saturday. Typical of elder sisters but Lin never behaved that way towards me (even though I know she behaves like that to her younger sisters).

Thank God for another mutual friend who brought her son along or I would have felt even more suffocated.

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Like I said, I really love Beauty And The Beast. I went to watch it at the cinema four times, I have the original movie soundtrack, and I even went to the Beauty And The Beast Disney on Ice show a few years ago with my niece. And I found myself singing to the songs on Saturday and yes, even sniffing and blinking away tears at the sad parts.

I especially like it when Belle sings the following:

I want much more than this provincial life
I want adventure in the great wide somewhere
I want it more than I can tell
And for once it might be grand
To have someone understand
I want so much more than they’ve got planned

Somehow it struck a chord deep within me when I first heard it all those years ago and I could so relate to Belle, to her wanting to get away from her provincial life where people thought her odd, to her desire for adventures somewhere. And I promised myself that I would do whatever it takes to get out into the world, to have adventures myself, to gain experience and learn of other cultures. And while Ampang is hardly provincial (six km away from KLCC!) sometimes I do think I don’t quite fit in, that I will always stick out by what I say, do, wear and think.

Hmm, one thing though: don’t you think Belle may have suffered from the Stockholm Syndrome?

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I woke up at 3.45 am this morning to catch the final match of Euro2008 between Germany and Spain. Alas, the coverage was not good and I found myself staring at blurry figures alternating with blank TV screen. Hence, I will not comment on it as I would not do justice to it. Anyway, as we know, Spain is the new European champions: yes, their first major trophy after waiting 44 long years.

*Sigh* It will be another month and half until the Premier League kicks off.

Girl, Interrupted

I was having a discussion with a colleague when we were interrupted by someone who asked my colleague to do up a worksheet for her. I stopped in mid-sentence and stared and after a while, cleared my throat and said, ‘Excuse me, I’m discussing something with him.’ She reacted like she barely heard me and I felt almost compelled to repeat myself and would have done so if I wasn’t so ‘amazed’ with her lack of ability to acknowledge that she had interrupted our discussion, her absence of apologies for having butted in, her lack of guilt and her very temerity. And heck, we were nearing the end of our discussion and even if we were still in the midst of it, couldn’t she at least have the decency to ask nicely if she could have a word with him and not butt in like that? Plus it wasn’t as if we were discussing something non-work related – and even then, surely any intelligent person would have the decency to wait until the discussion was over. And by golly, why did I even have to point out to her that we were having a discussion? Surely anyone could see that, especially if she is dependent on visual aid.

We finished our discussion and I went back to my place seething over her rudeness. To me, she was just being plain rude and lacking respect for others. How would she like it if someone interrupted her discussion with another without so much as acknowledging the discussion that was taking place?

What a bloody rude idiot. And to think I got along well with her not too long ago.

Football Focus – Part II

The third round of group matches continued last week with Azzurri and Russia securing their places in the last eight after beating Les Blues and the aging Swedes respectively. Defending champions Greece and 2006 world cup finalist Les Blues left after having scored only one goal each in the tournament.

The quarterfinals hence followed and Portugal which many (sans me) thought would progress far in this tournament suffered a blitzkrieg delivered by the usual German efficiency. Cristina showed that he more likely to be remembered at Euro2008 for his histrionics display (oh the serial diver drama queen) and the most boring transfer saga in the world than for his ability to deliver when the pressure was on. Lemme see, he scored, oh only one goal throughout the tournament. And I think Big Phil’s move to Stamford Bridge could’ve at least waited until after the tournament.

As for the Germans, one man particularly stood out besides his Captain Marvel – with his Blond Ambition Tour. Having been served a red card and missed the match against co-host Austria, Schweinsteiger scored one and set up two other goals. Apparently, he received tips from the chancellor herself during the one-match ban and he sure delivered and redeemed himself.

The Turks again showed they were full of grit and stubborn determination and like Arsenal - no actually worse than Arsenal - fashioned yet another dramatic late comeback. We all know the story – Croatia sucked at penalties and were out (I was actually rooting for them). I personally don’t fancy Turkey to win the tournament – they are so rough with many fouls committed and yellow cards earned. Football is a beautiful game and it should be played and won beautifully, not roughly.

The Russians, inspired by the return of Andrei Arshavin, embarked on a football revolution and played such wonderful football – despite having only three days to recuperate from their last match – to kick fancied Oranje out of the tournament but not before Ruud van Nistelrooy forced the match into extra time. I was supporting the Czars not van de Sar and was glad to see the Russians beat Oranje to a pulp, leaving them peeled, crushed and squashed.

And the vans (van Basten, van de Sar, van de Vaart, van Brokenhurst, van Nistelrooy and even van Persie) had vanished from Euro2008 after having been vanquished. But wait, there is still Dutch representation at the tournament in the form of Guus Hiddink but England is definitely out already.

And this morning, it was a boring affair as Azzurri met Spain. Like the two previous quarterfinals matches, it dragged into extra time and had to be settled with penalties. Lady Luck wasn’t on Azzurri’s side and Spain are through; they will meet Russia again and somehow I don’t think they will have it that easy again.

Except for Spain, all three other semi-finalists were runners-up in their groups. And except for the first quarterfinals match, all other three quarterfinals matches dragged into extra time. And there will be no representative from the ‘Group of Death’ in the semifinals.

I can’t wait for the semifinals!

Clothes Maketh The Man

...Or lack of it as in Fàbregas’ case? Here kicking ball with fellow Gunners

In Spanish training gear

A minor fashion crime so please don’t arrest him! A leather-clad Cesc doing his best impersonation of a smouldering lead singer of a boy band

At the 2007 Cannes Film Festival

More of this please!

And this (cor!)!

Football Focus - Part I

I can’t kick a ball to save my life but I am an avid fan of the beautiful game. At the Emirates Stadium in May 2008, in seat no. 13 i.e., the gaffer’s seat (Monsieur Arsène Wenger’s seat!)

The first week of Euro2008 saw three major upsets: world champions Azzurri were stunned by Oranje; the Croats creating a Kroatastrophe (yes, they are doing quite well so far even without Eduardo; this after all was the team which put the Three Lions out of Euro2008) in a match that saw Herr Schweinsteiger (behaving like err, a schwein) being sent off - for more of the match, go here and here; and 2006 World Cup runners-up Les Blues literally feeling les blues after being crushed by the Flying Dutchmen.

I’d like to touch particularly on the Italy-Romania match which was the 13th match of the 13th edition of UEFA Euro Championship and took place on Friday the 13th of June 2008. Gigi Buffon who had let in four goals so far compared to only two at the 2006 World Cup showed he was no buffoon after all when he used his hand and foot to save ex-Chelshit player Adrian Mutu’s penalty shot. Mutu found himself in that position no thanks to Panucci who earlier equalised for Azzurri. So yeah, it was hero to (almost) zero moment for both Panucci and Mutu in my opinion.

Hiyaahhh! How do you like my karate chop and kung fu kick? Buffon promoting the summer flick Kung Fu Panda

Just before half-time, Luca Toni who had until then appeared ineffective and useless slotted in a goal only to have it wrongly ruled out for offside. Speaking of controversial referee decisions, van Nistelrooy scored for Oranje from an apparently offside position. And Howard Webb, the sole England representative at Euro2008 was criticised for giving a late penalty to Austria.

We are now into the second week of Euro2008 and I’m sure there are many more thrilling matches to come. Defending champions suffered a Greek Tragedy (with such focus on defence, you’d think they’d be able to stop those goals!) and follow co-host Switzerland out of the tournament. After defeating Russia in style, sluggish second-half Spain only just about managed a win over Sweden - I had actually hoped the match would end in a draw to add further drama to the tournament.

And this morning, Switzerland, although down and out, gave a fine performance by beating group leaders Portugal 2-0. And I’m saving the best for last: there was Turkish Delight all around as they ‘czechmated’ the Czechs and had them czeching out of Euro2008 after having trailed the Czechs by two goals; all goals scored in the last 15 minutes of the match, thanks in part to Cech (to me, this is almost reminiscent of the Bolton-Arsenal match in March. In that match, Arsenal, reduced to 10 men, also fashioned a comeback and scored three goals in the last thirty minutes). The result was only marred by the sending off of the goalie in injury-time and Turkey will be playing without him in their quarter-finals match against Croatia. So much drama! Had Turkey drawn with Czech Republic, the match would have gone into penalty shoot-outs (no extra time) as both teams were level on points after two games, won one, lost one, scored two and conceded three. And mind you, the Turks haven’t got a great record against the Czechs - they haven’t won in their last 11 meetings and their only win in 14 overall was a 1-0 triumph in December 1958, half a century ago (info thanks to BBC). For more of the Turkey-Czech Rep. match, go here and here.

P/S: Oh yes, how could I have forgotten about Big Phil’s move to Stamford Bridge. Not sure if I like the idea of him at the football pitches in England though.

Scar Tissue

I decided I couldn’t take it any more. Hence, I decided to brave it and visit the doctor this morning. Sent a text to my good mate: ‘I need 2 talk 2 u. ... But I need to go 2 clinic 2, 2 rid myself of this blasted painful pimple’. So it’s a bird, it’s a plane, it’s Superman ... or in my case, was it a boil, was it a pimple? Oh ... it was a boil!

And the doctor declared she would poke it saying that no one should poke his/her pimple/acne/boil on their own as it may lead to further infection and besides, if it’s not done properly, the residual pus or whatever might travel in your blood vein or circulation or something like that. (Doctors, please correct me. I understood her but can’t explain it well myself). I told her I don’t do any of that simply because I’m just too scared to cause pain to myself. I’m a coward like that (and ‘brave’ enough to admit it!).

She told me to lie on the bed and sterilised the area. I stopped breathing. She continued talking and explained the procedure. I half-listened, continued holding my breath and squeezed my eyes shut tight. She poked it and I experienced some pain.

After what seemed an eternity but in reality perhaps less than a minute later, she was already applying some cream on the area and sticking an adhesive bandage on my forehead. So now I have a little band-aid on my forehead. She also gave me the cream to be applied on the area and some band-aid too.

Went back to the office and told them they were all wrong, that the blasted painful pimple was actually a bloody boil all along. My mates all shook their heads and wondered how on earth would I ever go through a childbirth... well, we’ll cross the bridge when we come to it, won’t we.

OK, I better stop lest you think I’m obsessed over my abscess. I shall attempt to write a more stimulating post henceforth - but no promises of course.

No Comparison

I try to write about witty, funny things even if some of them are painful growth on my face, cause me to part with money and actually are insignificant in the larger scheme of things - because I think it’s important to maintain a sense of humour and that it’s OK to laugh at oneself and one’s foolish acts and accept one’s misfortunes. But I was thinking last night after learning of a colleague’s misfortune that my petty complaints, trivial tantrums, angst and worries all may seem so trite, pointless, self-indulgent, lavish and irresponsible even.

A son of this particular colleague contracted an infection which resulted in the child being admitted into a hospital and my colleague spending two nights at the hospital to accompany him. And there I was ‘moaning’ about my lack of sleep - which was actually due to my conscious decision to catch some Euro2008 footie action. The colleague was worried about the son and I was sad and down because Azzurri lost to the Netherlands.

I just could not help comparing the two situations. Losing sleep because one had to sleep in the bright lights of a hospital room caring for one’s sick child and losing sleep because of one’s own choice to watch football. Being worried over one’s child and being worried because a team one supported lost. Agonising over the health and recovery of one’s child and agonising over a medium-sized pustule taking residence on one's face. Golly, I felt like such an irresponsible person and all my concerns, problems and worries seem to pale in comparison; they seem so insignificant.

But of course the two situations are not comparable. It’d be like comparing apples to oranges. While I don’t yet have a child to fret over or a spouse to worry over, I do have other worries of my own. So don’t think bachelorettes like us have no real worries of our own. Because God tests each and everyone of us albeit differently. Trust me, my petty concerns and worries that I choose to disclose in this blog are just the tip of the iceberg of worries that I bear.

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So I shall still be indulgent here and talk a bit on Euro2008. I didn’t watch the Spain v Russia match because it was held at midnight and I may never be able to fall asleep if I stay up (weekends are different as I can afford to sleep in) and was very happy to discover that Fàbregas scored his first international goal for Spain. I’m still not rooting for Spain yet though; they have a record of being underachievers (just like Portugal). All the hype which didn’t materialise in the end. Let’s if Euro2008 will be different. Read more about the match here and here.

Today

I sent the following email to my mate earlier today:

From: adek@xxx.xxx.my
To: xxx@xxx.xxx.my
Subject: Today

I hadn’t yet kept a diary yet then so I can’t confirm but I’m pretty sure that 20 years ago today, my half-sister passed away.

My half-sister and I were never really close probably because of the huge age difference (and maybe because of other reasons). I don’t have a rose-coloured memory of her now simply because she is no longer with us. I know it’s not nice to talk bad of the dead so I won’t start here, suffice to say that I can remember some things she did which she shouldn’t have done.

May God have mercy on her soul and all who have departed this world. Rest in peace and al-Fatiha to them all.

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Emails sent between me and a colleague yesterday evening:

From: xxx@xxx.xxx.my
To: adek@xxx.xxx.my
Subject:

I’m going out 4 a while, just in case u’d like anythin’ from me ;8)

My reply:

From: adek@xxx.xxx.my
To: xxx@xxx.xxx.my
Subject: Re:

I wanna go back on the dot dot today since I’m relying on someone for his goodwill for transport. Plus I wanna sleep early (after House, that’s not exactly early is it) to wake up and watch my boyfriends (note the plural) play footie early tomorrow morning (I’m in the wrong time zone, I tell you).

Translation: Don’t worry; I wouldn’t be disturbing you anymore for the day as I wanted to leave office on time to rest and get up and watch my boyfriends play footie. My Italian boyfriends, that is!

I dragged myself out of bed after 4 am this morning, switched on the TV and watched with growing horror and disbelief as Italy trailed the Netherlands by two goals. The misery was compounded when the latter scored yet another goal. Heck, that was what I got up for? Of course, it was not the same team that won the World Cup a couple of years ago (no Cannavaro, no Nesta) and even the then-defending champion France lost their first 2006 World Cup match. But Azzurri have really got to pull themselves together after this.

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I have this throbbing, medium-sized pimple (or abscess?!) somewhere near my hairline and boy, is it hurting me like crazy, enough to make it the topic of discussion with my friend:

Adek: Do you know the difference between a pimple and an abscess?

She: Hahaha... No idea... but xxx once had a pimple or growth that looked like a pimple (can’t really recall) which lasted for a while ... try asking her.

Adek: I have one now on the edge of my hairline and forehead. Hurts like crazzzyyyy. I accidentally hit it this morning after waking up watching footie and screamed silently for at least 10 minutes. It really hurt OK!!! Everyone says it’s pimple but it hurts like an abscessI

She: Ouuchh ... If it were me, I’d have taken a needle and poke that spot and let whatever pus in there come out whatsoeva hehehehe... but it would leave a scar...

Adek: No, DON’T ever do that! I’m too scared to do that, I’m too scared of pain. OK, I’m a coward.

A few minutes later...

Adek: I can’t think of anything except for this blasted pimple!

Folks, I’m not exaggerating, I’m not (normally) a drama queen, I’m not making all this up to milk sympathy but it is seriously hurting like crazy.

*Ouch!!!*

Money Talk

Some people say bad luck comes in threes. Now I don’t normally subscribe to this kind of ‘belief’ but I’ve had three recent ‘misfortunes’ as follows.

#1: My dad came over to micasa with an Indonesian worker while I was away at work a fortnight ago to cut the grass. He called me later that evening to ask about the back fence which had been cut apart. That was news to me too (yes, I somehow managed not to notice it before) and true enough, the back fence was indeed ripped apart. That probably explained why I felt some unease while I was in Europe.

So now I have to build a brick wall around my backyard to prevent further transgressions in the future. What does all this mean? Yes, I need to fork out money for that (and have to inform the neighbours of the job too).

*$!GH*

#2: I had just finished my ironing chore on Thursday evening when I heard the sound of dripping water from my bathroom. A check revealed that it came from the bidet and while I could turn off the tap which supplies both the cistern and bidet to stop the flow of water, that meant that the water in the cistern would not be replenished... and every time I tried to fill up the cistern, the dripping resumed.

So yes, that called for a plumber and money going down the drain. My mate suggested someone from his residential area over the chap I called to fix the hose to my washing machine. He came yesterday, he looked honest enough and he fixed my bathroom up and cleared the clogged sink as well.

*$!GH*

#3: I lost yet another anklet on Friday – third time unlucky at losing them anklets now! Add that to the broken clasp of my bangle, the twirled bracelet which has been unravelling itself somehow for some time now, and the earrings I broke while sleeping in a cramped tent in Mina during Hajj – which I have to repair or replace – maybe I should just stop wearing jewellery altogether.

Did I ever mention I am high-maintenance? *$!GH*

So I went out on Saturday for retail therapy to cheer myself up. Nothing like some beauty care product and a pair of four-inch open-toe slingback heels to help restore a girl’s spirits.

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I know it’s already ‘stale’ news but I’m sure we’re all still reeling from the shock of the recent fuel hike. Yes, I know it was inevitable, that we could not be depending on subsidy until kingdom come but couldn’t the Government have made it a gradual increase instead? All this after assuring the masses that any fuel price rise would only be made in August.

I can’t help thinking and wondering about all the chain reaction, the super duper price inflation that will ensue in all other aspects of everyday life. Everything will rise in turn, everything but our wages. How will the village folks cope? How will the low middle-income families cope while trying to put some family members into school? And the thing is, we are still a net oil producer. And I read that the US actually has large oil reserves (correct me if I’m wrong) and that the reason for the high price of oil per barrel is because of the depreciating greenback than because of supply problems (again I stand corrected).

So why the recent fuel price hike then? To help the Government pursue its 9MP? How many times have the public had the wool pulled over its eyes? How stupid does the Government take us for? How much longer do we have to take this, be treated like we don’t matter and our voices don’t count? And the very bloody people who are harping on the masses to change our lifestyles are the very ones who won’t be doing anything about changing theirs. As for me, I’ve learnt from a young age how to take public transportation and have already been taking it for as long as I can remember because Abah absolutely loathes being caught in the crazy Jalan Ampang traffic and he takes public transportation as far as possible too. For the record, there’s nothing wrong and nothing to be ashamed of in taking public transportation and yet when I explain to people I take the bus, I’m always met with a blank look, or worse, having to bear the brunt of their irritating jokes. I find it’s those out-of-state ‘settlers’ who settle in KL who don’t take public transportation and who add to the KL traffic woes. And while I won’t be buying a car any time soon (if at all), I’ll still be affected as many more make the change and take the public transportation. But is the public transportation network ready for us?

And to those politicians, stop telling us that our fuel is still among the lowest-priced in the region, that it’s still cheaper compared to Thailand or Singapore because we don’t live in those countries and sure don’t earn their wage!

So shoot us already

For die-hard drivers, check this out for some tips on how to negate fuel price increase.

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And now I shall attempt to end this entry with some cheer (not easy when there seems to be nothing but doom and gloom in this time of high fuel cost and soaring food prices): Euro2008 kicked off at long last after midnight on Saturday. Here’s to three weeks of late nights, early mornings, sleepy days at the office and late-night gorging on chocolates and Häagen-Dazs!

Things I Don’t Understand

Why do people have to make an issue out of something as simple as how one chooses to have one’s meal? I was at a wedding (Malay) very recently and my colleagues and I opted to use cutlery instead of using our hands. Then a couple and two ladies joined our table. They returned from the buffet table with their food and cutlery but one of them (who had to sit next to me) then decided she wanted to use her hand after all and announced it to all and sundry, saying ‘Oh, I think I’ll use my hand. We are Malays anyway.’ Her mate across the table replied, ‘Yea, I think I’ll do the same too. It’ll be more comfortable,’ (they said all this in Malay, of course) and the third lady also followed suit (she was either a ‘copy cat’ or felt similarly uncomfortable with using utensils but didn’t feel the need to broadcast it or both). All this after they had gotten the utensils onto the food (so the poor caterer would still need to wash those hardly-used cutlery).

I sat there quietly eating my food and thinking, what the heck. Who cared if you wanted to use your hand but you didn’t have to announce it so loudly and tactlessly as if to make those of us who used cutlery to actually feel uncomfortable with our choice. After all, cutlery was provided at the two buffet tables and the pot-and-container for hand-washing was also available at each table. Heck, even the husband to the lady who made the first broadcast ate with his cutlery! And besides, does it make those of us who eat with the provided cutlery snobs or any less Malays/Malaysians than those who opted to eat with their hands?

Oh and that reminds me to those times when people actually had to comment when they see me eating my noodle meals with my chopsticks. I mean, like so bloody what? My usual reply to that is ‘I’m a Malaysian.’ But really, why do I even need to reply as if in defense of my choice in cutlery and why is there even a need to comment in the first place?

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Why do some people like to clip or trim their nails in public? I think it’s very disgusting. I mean it’s not sanitary, not cultured and just plain gross. Didn’t anyone ever tell them that clipping one’s blinking nails is something one does at home in the bathroom with the door closed? I don’t appreciate having to listen to people go clip, clip, clip, clipping their nails. C’mon, with all the scratching, digging, plucking, fingernails are surely vile reservoirs for dirt and germs for most people! So unless you’re in the bathroom or in a nail salon, clipping your nails in public is really bad taste!

I also can’t understand why, oh why, why do some people keep their nails (fingernails or toenails) long and not bother to clean them? It’s so disgusting to look down and see someone’s long and dirty toenails poking out. God, it’s only basic hygiene surely and yet people neglect trimming and clipping their nails. I don’t care if anyone wants to keep her nails long, just make sure they’re clean and properly filed.

And yes, powdering one’s face or reapplying one’s lipstick in public is totally acceptable (not that I do it).

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Why do people always have to make a remark, comment or ask when they see me carry my brolly around? Isn’t it obvious enough that a brolly is to protect oneself from the sun and rain? In tropical Malaysia where we get regular torrential rain, most people seem to think brollies are only for protection against the rain.

I picked up the habit of carrying the brolly around on my second visit to Tokyo and thought a good practice like that should be continued. But no, here it’s almost a foreign concept to be walking with your brolly when the sun is out, never mind that it is blazing an unbearable 36C and you’re walking without any sunscreen protection. So now when people ask me (stupidly) why I carry my brolly, I reply sweetly, ‘To protect against the UV,’ which is true anyway. Actually my brolly does more than that: it helps to protect me from would-be snatch thieves, shields me from bird droppings and it can even be used as a self-defense tool.

By the way, I also picked up the habit of carrying a hand-held fan in Tokyo. I did carry it with me on a few occasions here in sweltering KL but there were too many smart alecks making comments about it that I just can’t be bothered to carry it anymore (OK, maybe I’m a coward for not sticking to it and letting what other people say sway my decision but I really can’t be bothered to listen to their stupid remarks).

I mean, really, why can’t people just let others be?!

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Why aren’t our men more gentlemanly? Why can’t they open doors, hold the doors open (instead of letting it slam in our faces), offer to carry our groceries, etc? You don’t do it because I’m a lady; you do it because you’re a gentleman. If you can’t even do it for your mother or female siblings, then I fear you’re a lost cause already. Yes, so women demanded equal rights but that didn’t mean that men have to stop being gentlemen. After all, you’re gifted with strength and muscles and (brains too). I had on a few occasions had to struggle under the weight of my groceries before biting my tongue and asking my friend if he could help me with them. But in England, my British friends would rush and actually grab my things to help carry them, without me having to request for their help.

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Why do people have to comment on other people’s weight, height, skin colour, ethnic background and clothing? It’s never-ending: I’m not thin enough, I’m not fat enough, I’m not dark enough, I’m not fair enough, I’m not Malay enough and yes, I don’t wear traditional clothes (read that to mean I don’t wear my baju kurung or kebaya) to office often enough. But so what? As long as I’m happy with what and who I am and how I dress and as long as what I wear is decent, not revealing and reflect myself as a Muslim, so what? It’s not as if I wear short, tight hot pants or revealing mini skirts or body-hugging clothes to work like some people actually do (and for that, even I want the fashion police to arrest them for not having enough fashion sense).

Oh, there are so many things that I don’t understand (and not sure if I ever will) but let’s just stop at that for now.