A Day of Many 'Coulds'

Today is my 31st birthday.

I took the day off. Not sure what I am going to do with my free day yet.

I could ponder about the milestones in my life. I could question the purpose of my life. I could go pamper myself with a massage and crazy shopping.

But alas, I think I am just going to hibernate - read and fall asleep - the purest form of luxury.

Tattoo & Kegels

I've done it! I've paid big bucks to have myself scarred for life. I now have a beautiful butterfly permanently etched to the back of my shoulder. It's gorgeous & I love it!

Now that I have "been there & done that", let me share some learnings with you:

Firstly, it's is a painful process. So many people (mostly men) have told me not to worry about the pain. Their resoning - women have a higher tolerance to pain than men. Well, I tell you now, those are maschochistic lies they use to cover up for themselves. Hell, it was painful.

Actually, I don't know which part was more painful, my shoulder or my fingers. I was gripping the chair so hard, every muscle in my te fingers was in pain. And not forgetting my jaw; 2 hours after the ordeal, my jaw was still stiff from the extreme gritting. I am sure my dentist would not approve.

Solid-colour designs are more painful. Yes, the outlining process is the most painful part of the process. The more define the line, the more painful it is. So, go fot colours. Besides, it ain't gonna cost you anymore. Cost of tattoo are measured with cigarette boxes, not colours; i.e. even a mole would cost the same as a butterfly.

Practice your Kegels, it makes the process less painful. Absurd but true. The logic is simple, the more you concentrate on the needle that ripping into your skin, the more you are aware of the pain. Put your mind on something else, and the throbiing pain becomes slightly secondary. Hey, talk about killing two birds with one stone. For the guys, I don't know - try masturbation, that is if your artist don't mind the sight and mess.

Stange beds and strangers in bed

I don't like hotel beds. Their thickness, hardness, softness, textures, sizes and smells are all different from my own bed. That is probably the only thing I hate about travelling. I don't sleep well most times.

And that's why I don't do well sleeping over at other people's homes. With or without sex as a prelude.

But even in my own bed, I don't do well. All those romantic ideas about waking up fresh and happy with someone snuggled up next to you just don't seem to work for me. I usually wake up groggy and fatique. Sometimes, I don't wake at all coz I didn't sleep to start with.

I guess I have just been sleeping alone for too long. My mind is very conscious about the person next to me. I am afraid to turn, afraid to toss. And of course, it doesn't help when they are noisy. M snores, D was a loud snorer, P was the loudest.

Gee, I think I need to drug myself the next time I sleep with another man.

It's me, Clifford! 

I love Malaysia

Just came back from a 3-day back-breaking trip to Singapore. As I sit here this Sunday enjoying my morning Milo, I gladly announce that "It's so good to be home!".

I hate going to Singapore. Many things on that tiny little island irk me, from the people to their culture to the government... the list goes on. I guess part of it is my perception. Every trip to Singapore have always been of marathon schedules, deprived slumber, and a pain to the feet. Yes, my opinion is tainted with personal preference and experience. But I think there are many admirable aspects of Singapore too, from their people to their culture to their government.

Coincidentally, the latest hot topic in the blogsphere has been a fuedal comparison between both countries. It started with this young Singaporean who posted silly rantings about Malaysia. Malaysian bloggers started flaming her, and now other Malaysia bloggers are flaming Malaysian bloggers about not being open-minded to criticisms. Admittedly, I am one of those who came to Malaysia's defence.

No country in this world is perfect. But I think one should not judge another country's culture based on one's own experience. Personal opinion and public judgments are very different. We cannot expect everyone in this world to live by our standards (that would make us bloddy arrogant Replublicans, haha)

Malaysia, as imperfect as it is, is the place I chose to call home, not because I have no other option, but I love this country for all that it is and all that it isn't and all that it almost is (lending from Jerry Mcguire).

To all those people not living in Malaysia and thinks that it is imperfect, you are probably right and are entitled to your opinions. But please know that they are only your opinions and there are plenty more people living here who loves this country as is. If it bugs you that much, please just stay away.

To all those people who are living in Malaysia and thinks that it is imperfect, and who made comments about how Malaysia is, I hope instead of just comparing and complaining, you are doing something to make it the Malaysia you want it to be. If you are not doing anything, then you have no right to complain. Call again when you have done something.

Blood Loss

There has been much ranting among women about PMS and mood swings. I am lucky I am still pleasant and sweet during such times.

But I have low blood pressure, so every month when I have to raise the Japanese flag, I feel like I could almost faint.

Today is one of those days. I have literally been in a horizontal position all day.

This leads me to wonder - what a waste of blood. Here you have the National Blood Bank, rallying hard to get blood to save lives, and on the other hand, every woman on this earth, for a good 40 years of their lives, if losing pints of it.

Common, it's just an ovulation cycle for reproductive function, right. There must be other ways the body could get rid of the unused ovary other than bleeding. Grossly speaking, it could have just popped out like poop.

Whoever created women and man-kind, this is a great oversight.