Friday, March 31, 2006
Statue of nude Britney Spears giving birth. "Monument to Pro-Life: The Birth of Sean Preston" is a life size statue by artist Daniel Edwards. It will be unveiled at Capla Kesting Fine Art in Brooklyn on April 7.
“Monument to Pro-Life: The Birth of Sean Preston,” believed Pro-Life’s first monument to the ‘act of giving birth,’ is purportedly an idealized depiction of Britney in delivery. Natural aspects of Spears’ pregnancy, like lactiferous breasts and protruding naval, compliment a posterior view that depicts widened hips for birthing and reveals the crowning of baby Sean’s head.
What was she thinking? What was the artist thinking?
I find it scary but hey, I am no Britney Spears’ fan. To me, everything she does is crazy, desperate and sad. Ha.
First question. Did she really pose like that? When I was pregnant with Ekiel, I couldn’t even sit still for more than five minutes. How does she do it?
Second question. Did she really deliver her baby that way? I am very sure that bear rug thingy cost a fortune. Surely she wouldn’t want stains on it!
*tsk tsk tsk* The crazy things people do.
Thursday, March 30, 2006
I am so tired. *yawn*
I must be the laziest jobless bum on earth.
In my defense, looking after my baby is more more MORE tiring than working for 48 hours straight. He is climbing, eating, poking, destroying and grabbing everything he sees. He’s demanding, stubborn, fearless, mischievous, quick and heavy too. He has given me headaches, backaches, sleepless night and what I could only describe as almost heart-attacks. All that and I still adore/love him so SO SO greatly. I wonder if I could love anyone/anything else that much. *thinking*
He has given me/taught me so much compared to all the men I dated combined. I feel more satisfied looking at him sleeping blissfully than helping to secure a multi-million account. Well I might feel differently if I was rewarded accordingly. I don’t ask much just A-C-C-O-R-D-I-N-G-L-Y. HA!
ANYWAY, enough about him. You may think I am one of those “annoying” mother who couldn’t stop talking about her child. I AM NOT. Well, I try not to be. It’s just so damn hard when my world revolves around him and him only. Okay, and my family too, but they’re so B-O-R-I-N-G. *rolling eyes* Wouldn’t it be weird to write how adorable my 17 year old brother is when he’s sleeping? Not only it’s weird, it’s a little scary too. My family may be dysfunctional, but we’re not creepy.
I’ve been snooping around some profiles from Friendster of people I know either from school or… well I don’t remember where I met them. Profiles of people I know. Everyone has grown up so much; I don’t recognize most of them. Maybe if they use their real name instead of some weird nick (-> Marky Mark – seriously?) would make it easier.
I got a little nostalgic looking at the familiar faces. I miss those times when I was surrounded by people whom I can connect on a friendly basis. Hee. Why didn’t I use the word “friends”? Well, if we were friends, we would need to be on a talking term. Now, even to say “hello” feels so awkward. I admit I sometimes walk the other direction when I see a familiar face. Why? It feels so weird. One thing I hate is to feel uncomfortable. Even when I put my guard down and pretend we were the bestest of friend, it still feels unpleasant. I am terrible aren’t I?
I don’t know why I feel that way but that’s how I really feel. This insanity of mine has left me with not so many friends. At least “real friends” whom I know care about me sincerely. It’s okay. Lesser friends, lesser headaches. Friends tend to stab you in the back. True friends stabs you in the front <- Oscar Wilde.
I always end up talking about something else. Hee. Well, yeah. I miss those times when I could talk, laugh, share about many things with many people. Once upon a time I thought everyone was my friend. Then I learn about betrayal and conceit. I still feel the pain till this very day.
When I see them doing so well in life, doing what I wanted to do myself, I am jealous. In fact I am VERY green with envy. Living the life I’ve always dream about. At one point in life I was very sure I am going to have it all. Shame on me. I learnt life the hard way and I still have to learn it the hard way. I had to suck it up when my dream was taken away from me. I make do. NO regrets. Well, not that many.
I am truly happy for them. Them enjoying their life, doing what they want to do and knowing what they want in life.
When I was young, I knew what I wanted to be when I grow up. Now I am all grown up, I have no idea what I want to do.
No worries. I am scared but I am trying this “optimistic” thingy. People tell me it’s good for me. *wink*
Saturday, March 25, 2006
I found out when a friend email me the news. The mail also mentions it’s supposed to be a secret. Why? I don’t know. It’s not really a secret anymore now is it? *rolling eyes* I don’t know anything about this girl except she is pretty - he likes them pretty. I didn’t even know he was seeing anyone which is why I was very surprised. I used to ask him about his love life and he would just laugh and say why settle down when there’s so many women out there. Well he didn’t exactly say that but you know what I mean. *wink*
I am happy for him. Very happy.
Now I wonder. What made him change his mind? He had relationships that lasted for years but there was never wedding plans. Why this one?
How do you know? Was there music in the air? You get a congratulatory mail from the cupid association? You had a dream about it? Subtle signs from the universe? Pressure from certain people? I always find it interesting because I don’t even know if a guy is sincerely interested in me.
People tell me “you will know”. If you can’t even describe it, then how do you know it’s real? Maybe you’ve been reading too many Danielle Steel. Maybe you’ve been watching Bridget Jones Diary a little too much. Maybe you’re still drunk from “that night”. Maybe you’ve been inhaling too much glue. Fyi, I have nothing against marriage or love at first sight or any of those lovey-dovey thingy. It’s just that…
I finally got out of the house today. *yawn* The weather was a killer. I should just stay home. But nooo… I wanted to go too. I need to listen to my "laziness" more often.
I wish we went to Disney Land. We went to a hypermarket to do our grocery shopping instead. Didn't really like the place because it was cramp and disorganized. Did you know they only had two different brands of fresh milk? And it has to be the two brands that I do not drink. *sigh* I miss the hypermarkets in KL.
My mom was FOREVER complaining about the price of onions. She said it was more expensive to buy onions than to buy a whole chicken. I look at the old and wrinkly onions. Might as well. Chicken makes better dishes than onions. Shoppers: 1 Hypermarket: 0. My mom didn't appreciate the humor.
I was staring at the sad looking potatoes when I overheard the cutest conversation.
Boy: Pa, tomato basar.
Father turns around to look.
Father: (Embarrassed) Ish. Cili bah tu.
Boy: Father! Look big tomatoes!
Father turns around to look.
Father: (Embarrassed) No son. Those are chilies.
I can be nosy. When I heard the boy, I turned to see the tomatoes he was excited about. I wanted to laugh out loud. The boy was wrong but the father wasn't quite right either. It was red-colored capsicums. It's funny because the boy was at least nine years old and the father was obviously embarrassed for his son's innocent mistake. But a boy at that age should be able to tell the difference between a tomato and a capsicum. Shouldn't he? – What are they're learning in schools these days?
After debating which diaper brand is worth the value, we headed home all sweaty and tired. Two hours of pushing the trolley loaded with one month of grocery supplies is no fun.
What did I achieve today? Besides finding out the price of onions are sky high? NOTHING.
I can feel my energy and patience being sucked right out of me. I am so emotional I could laugh, cry and throw my four-inch heels at my neighbor's dog so "it" would stop barking - all at the same time. Okay, the last one is a lie. I am afraid of dogs and there's no way I will do anything to make it maul my not-so-pretty face.
Maybe it's the weather. Maybe I have eaten something bad. Maybe I've been using too much willpower not to bark at those who piss me off. Maybe I was worried people were going to label me as psychotic - I don't respond well to labels. Maybe I didn't want to admit I am "unhappy" with what's happening. Maybe there are so many maybes I could use as an excuse – I like that!
My life doesn't involve only me now but also the little guy who drags himself and his leaking diaper around. To admit I am "unhappy" is like admitting my decision was a mistake. And I hate that. Especially when it is a decision made because of him. The only thing I am "unhappy" about him is his temper. Other than that, I have no regrets. Not even when I first found out about him. In fact I was overjoyed. Crazy? I must be.
Then why do I feel so depressed? *sigh* Must I always explain myself? People always need me to explain myself. I'm an Aquarius. I am eccentric. I am supposed to be strange people! Fine… *rolling eyes* I don't know what I'm doing most of the time. There. Happy? When I do, it's already staring me to anxiety. So I just tell myself I know what I'm doing and most time it work out very well. Know what I mean? Ohh… no worries about it. You don't have to understand me. Just love me. Love me well.
It's tiring to be "Optimistic" all the time. I am only human. I am blessed with all emotions/moods. So why can't I pout and sulk and complain? Sure, "Happy" I can do. But the world would be SO dull if everyone is happy all the time. We need anger, we need frustration, we need tears, we need heartache. Damn it, we need it all. If we don't have it, how do we learn to be a better person? How could I teach my son the values of life without him taking everything for granted? <- hee. Did I just say that?
Yes I am sad. I am unhappy. Not because I miss my old life. It's because I don't have a magic wand to make everything better. I am frustrated because things have not turned out the way I hope it will be immediately.
Yet I am sure it will work out. I just need to complain about something now.
Remember the movie “Speed” with Keanu Reeves, Sandra Bullock, a bus, a bomb and all? There are no bomb or bad guys trying to do something to the bus. Instead of Keanu Reeves, you have the bored looking bus driver who I am pretty sure is very much influenced by the movie. No, there’s no Sandra Bullock, sorry, but you do have… me. Hehehe. Okay, I know they’re driving a big vehicle, but that doesn’t mean they or the passengers are safe if the driver drives it like a madman. Besides, I don’t think any of the passengers appreciate the “thrilling adventure” or the “washing machine” motion.
The scariest bit about these rides is the “emergency brakes”. Imagine this; the bus is packed with passengers and you could barely balance yourself by holding on to the impractical holder thingy. Standing in front of you is a guy with a huge backpack who doesn’t give a damn who his backpack is hurting. You could barely move, and the last thing you want is any uncomfortable body contact with the other passengers. You’re swinging left and right like the orang utan you saw in Animal Planet. When you think you could not possibly embarrass yourself more, suddenly the driver slams the brakes and you lost your balance, and you somehow ended up kissing the guy’s backpack.
Even with everyone ramming you from behind, everyone pretended it didn’t happen. Malaysians are too well mannered to be talking about it. Besides, what can anyone say anyway? Unfortunately, you do sometime encounter one of those passenger who looks at you as if you purposely want to rub yourself against them. *rolling eyes* Eh hello. You think you’re Brad Pitt is it? Even IF you are Brad Pitt, I have better things to do!
Never think you’re safe just because you’re sitting down. Once I landed on the floor of the bus because I was sitting right at the back of the bus and is exposed to any unfortunate incident. I was more mortified than hurt. I also have bruises because I bang the window, the front seat, the pole thingy, etc. You can never tell, when it’s coming or what will hit you.
Most time, due to exhaustion or simply lack of sleep I would doze off in the bus. (Sometimes even when I am standing). That is when the unfortunate incident with the window happened. One day, on the way back from work, I was so-so tired because I had a long day and I haven’t had proper sleep for days. So I dozed of like usual. Suddenly my head hit the window and even in my sleep I could hear a lout “thump”. I woke up and everyone in the bus looked at me smiling or giggling. Me the control queen pretended they were laughing at someone else, gone back to my sleep. Only God knows how humiliated I am and the amount of pain I was experiencing. I swear I had a small bump on my head because of that. The same thing also happened in the commuter. LOL.
Sleeping in the bus does not only bring me shame and embarrassment, but also a momentary heart attack. Imagine waking up in a strange place and you realized you missed your stop. Happened to me only once, but it was such a nuisance to catch a cab or another bus to go back to where you’re supposed to stop.
Ahh… the joy and the pain of bus riding. I have plenty of stories to share… maybe I should write a book about it.
Waiting for the bus after work is pure torture. You got no idea when is the bus coming. All you can do is wait and pretend it doesn’t bother you. After a while you get a little giddy from inhaling all those exhaust fumes. The already polluted air is bad enough thank you very much. Without you realizing or able to do anything about it, you started doing the “left & right” dancing steps because you couldn’t feel your legs anymore. Then, you’re positively sure your expensive high heels will be the cause of your death and wondered if it’s worth it to spend so much to feel this much of physical pain.
Finally the bus comes and it is overloaded with passengers that the only place available is the rooftop. So you hold your breath and you squeeze yourself in. FYI, public buses are nothing like sardines cans. Unlike the public bus, there’s a specific ration of sardines in every can. But for the public buses, the number of passengers is determined by the driver’s mood, or by the shapes and sizes of the passengers. I swear sometimes it feels as if the bus driver lets the whole KL population board the bus.
Now, in my 18 years of experience taking the public buses, I have never got on a bus where the bus driver is courteous or sane. I have seen people caught in between the automatic doors because the bus driver just shut the door without checking if all his passengers are safely tucked inside the bus. Those poor people were already clinging on the door handle for their dear life and the bus driver had to crush them with the doors. It is quite funny when you think about it now, but I know it was a painful experience. It happened to me too. No, I wasn’t stuck between the doors (thank goodness for that!), but my bag did. Half of it was inside the bus, and the other half was sticking out. I tried to pull it in, but it was impossible because the bus was too full for me to even move. To make things more dramatic, it rained. It was funny, and I wasn’t upset or anything and I pretended it was nothing out of the ordinary. The other passengers around me were amused and one of them tried to pull my bag in for me. I went home that day with a bag that is half wet.