May 31, 2009

Getting in on the Girl-on-Girl Action

Scribbled by Perky | Chucked away in , ,

Earlier this week, I had learned from a friend that someone accused me of being a closeted lesbian. But before you go throwing insults at my accuser, pls bear in mind that I'm not mad. Really. On the contrary I find it rather amusing. I came from an all-girls school, so being called a lesbian is nothing new to me.

I have always been the kind of person who is touchy and affectionate, even among friends. Giving hugs and kisses is nothing strange to me. As a matter of fact, it comes naturally. When I was in high school, many thought that *Sheep (my best friend) and I were lesbians because everywhere we went, we would be holding each other's hands and we were always seen putting our arms around each other.

What can I say? We were both brought up in families where physical contact was encouraged.

Anyway, here are some of my accuser's theory on why she thinks believes that I'm actually a lesbian:

I'm Too Friendly with Girls
On the few occassions that my accuser has seen me, it's usually at TGI Friday's where I meet up with my girl friends over drinks. Our standard greeting: a hug and 2 kisses on each cheek. I'm sure you've seen girls do this all over the world.

But apparently, according to my accuser, when I hug and kiss my girl friends, it looks like I'm trying to get some lip-lock action. It's as if I want turn my greeting into a full blown make out session.

Like, huh? Seriously?

Makes me wonder what she think of European ladies, considering we adapted the kiss-on-the-cheeks culture from them. Surely they can't all be gay, can they?



I Have Crushes on Various Women
Erm, on celebrities to be exact. Angelina Jolie. She's a goddess on earth. Megan Fox. Oh, those eyes... and legs! Kate Beckinsale. Hottest vampire ever! Jessica Biel. Woman with the perfect face and body to match!


I honestly don't see what's wrong with admiring other women. It's kinda like admiring a piece of art, no?


I Hang Out with Gays. All. The. Time.
If I hang out with girls who are gay, then I can totally understand where this is coming from. But I hang out with GUYS who are gay. They scan other guys and talk about gay sex with me. If I really am a lesbian, hearing another dude talk about doing another dude should invoke my gag reflex (and give me nightmares). And besides, wouldn't it be more appropriate for me to hang out with other lesbians?



I Like Rough Sports
No, I'm not talking about kinky sex here, you dirty single-minded people. My accuser knows that I'm into extreme sports - from aggressive inline skating to white water rafting, from doing martial arts to rock climbing. Not exactly the kind of sports a girly girl would do, but I don't think that just coz I like to do physically demanding sports, doesn't automatically make me a lesbian.

My god, I can already think of the all the sports athletes that would take offense to such statement.


Anyway, here's my theory. I think my accuser has a secret crush on me. You see, she's trying to do this reverse psychology mumbo jumbo on me. If I were to admit that I'm gay, and since she's gay too, then there's no reason why we shouldn't hook up right? Look lady, even if I am a lesbian, I doubt I'd have feelings for you.

But I'm available if you want to treat me to a free dinner ;)

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May 19, 2009

Definitely NOT Bleeding Love

Scribbled by Perky | Chucked away in , , , , , ,

There's a line from South Park that I absolutely love: "I don't trust anything that bleeds for 5 days and doesn't die". Don't you just love Mr. Garrison?

I don't know what is up with my mensus and the crazy mood swings this time around. Most times I'm still able to function like any other decent human being, but once in a blue moon I'll go weird.

I'm suppose to be writing a post on women and martial arts for Kat's blog (sorry Kat!), which I'm really super excited to do. BUT. My brain just couldn't put the words together that would best sum my experience/hardship being a Taekwon-Do fighter (hah! bet you guys didn't know that about me. Well, if you wanna know more, you guys will have to wait 'til I finish the post ;) Stay tuned for that).

I suppose you can blame it on writer's block, perhaps?

Another blogger had commission me to custom make a card for him. What would normally take me a couple of hours to finish is now taking DAYS. I stared at my design, stared at it some more and was just unable to move forward. I can clearly see the design in my head, but somehow my hands just didn't want to work with me. I felt stuck. Do I even dare to go as far as to say I feel uninspired? Oh God.

I suppose you can blame that on crafter's block, perhaps?

Then, Sunday night pretty much confirmed that it was neither one of the above. It was in fact my PMS doing weird jujus on me.

I was practising John Mayer's song called "Waiting on the World to Change" on my guitar last night. The chord progressions are simple but this being a John Mayer song, it's actually quite tricky to play it the same way he does. Plus this song is played in shuffle beat, which I'm not good at because I don't have that blues feel in me. (Damn you John Mayer. Why can't you write more songs in straight beat?)

I just couldn't get the song right. Never mind the tempo, but even the simple chords I couldn't get them right. Frustration just kept building up until *gasps* I felt like smashing my guitar because I was so pissed off with myself.

Me destroy my most prized Fender Stratocaster??? That's like a mom flushing her baby down the toilet (although there are people out there who do this. Psychos). But that's not me. At all.

It's as if the amount of blood lost is equivalent to my level of creativity.

What does that say about me, that I need blood to be inspired? Geez, I know I can be obsessed with vampires but I don't think I can pull off being a vampire. Fangs don't suit my teeth and if I have to spend eternity being short and chubby, I'd rather stake myself with a wooden spoon.


Oh btw, remember this pic from my post in April 2008?



This month marked the first time I had to buy pads since then.

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Mar 29, 2009

Diamonds are NOT My Best Friend

Scribbled by Perky | Chucked away in ,

Turns out that the phrase "Diamonds are a girl's best friend" doesn't apply to me. Which is quite sad actually when I think about it 'cause it either implies that I'm not a girl, or worse, that diamonds don't like me.

I've been having problems with the engagement promise ring that McChef gave to me. Actually, I don't quite like the ring if truth be told. I don't like rings with protruding diamonds. Solitaire diamond rings with "leaves" at the side... is so not my thing. I'm no "delicate flower" or ladylike, and I'm accident prone. So, my promise ring never stood a chance. One of the diamonds came off.



The first time it happened, we took it back to the jeweler for repair. And a few months later, another diamond came off. This time, I can't be bothered. I want a new ring, damnit.


The other ring that McChef gave to me, which is my favorite btw, also shared the same fate. What I love about this ring is that the diamonds are embedded into the ring, so I don't have to worry about knocking my ring into things... right?



Blargh! In the hands of the destroyer, no diamond rings are safe!


p/s: Taking photos of diamond rings are so hard, especially with a camera phone!

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Mar 14, 2009

When the Cat Brings in Dinner

Scribbled by Perky | Chucked away in , ,

I know I'm not the greatest cook in the world but I am the most resourceful when it comes to preparing dinner - I'm damn skilled at opening canned food, placing it in a bowl and heating it in the microwave. It's my style of "hunting" for my dinner.

It's not the healthiest way to have dinner, but it works for me. Why bother slaving away in the kitchen preparing dinner from scratch when I can just "hunt" for it in my kitchen cabinet and get everything done in 5 minutes?

However, my sister's cat, Kelloggs, thinks that I either need to change my diet or is trying to "teach" me how to really hunt for my meal.

Look what she brought back after her "hunting trip" on our balcony:

Kelloggs couldn't find a fridge to store the bird, so she decided to put the bird in our old unused CPU!


She also thinks that nothing should ever go to waste. We can use these feathers as pillow stuffing.





Hmm... come to think of it, maybe she's the one who's sick of eating Friskies processed food and wants live poultry for dinner instead. But looks like she will have to stick with the Friskies and Whiskers diet because the bird managed to fly away unless she wants to starve to death.

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Jan 28, 2009

Just So We're On The Same Page

Scribbled by Perky | Chucked away in , ,

Picture taken from http://www.health-fitness.com.auI don't know how many times I've blogged about my distaste for onions (such as the time I nearly choked to death because of it). The only way I ever eat onions is to have them blended. Yes, blended onions. Mmm... yumm!

Other than that, it's HELL to the NO to onions. I always tell the chef to omit the onions from my dish. If I do find them in my food, I'll just simply take them out (even if it'll take me an hour to finish my meal).

Some people find this behavior rather odd. I mean, if you don't like something, you just don't eat them. What's so odd about that?

But people (and by people I meant my clueless friends) place my reason to hating onions on the same level as one of the world's great mysteries. It's so bizarre (their thinking, I mean). So our conversation would normally run along the following lines:

Perky: I just don't eat onions.
Friend: *gasp!* Oh dear God, why???
Perky: I just don't.
Friend: But onions are good for you. They prevent the growth of cancerous cells, lower cholesterol, stimulate the immune system.....
Perky: Bla bla bla! Says the one who smokes like a chimney, drinks like a fish, and solicits hookers. You're more at risk of dying than I am.
Friend: ........
Perky: Getting hit by a car is more likely to kill me than not eating onions.


So I'm gonna test my reasoning on my readers.

Onions - Why I Don't Eat Them

Have you ever smelt someone's body odor (B.O.) or your own B.O. (assuming that you're not immune to the smell that you don't even know you actually stink)?

Well, that's how onions taste like to me (not that I'm saying I smell or what. Btw, I smell lovely thankyouverymuch). I'm just saying, it feels like I'm eating body odor. It's just.... gross.

Photo from iStockPhoto


So what do you think? I'm not that wrong to say that, am I?

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Jan 21, 2009

Still Got the Blues For You?

Scribbled by Perky | Chucked away in , , ,

2009 is proving to be the year of weddings. I've got 6 weddings to attend from February to March. I'm more concerned about what I'll be wearing to each weddings coz I ain't gonna get caught wearing the same thing twice!





Anyways, here's a quiz for you guys.

If an ex-bf or an ex-fling or an ex-whatever-you-call-someone-who-used-to-be-important-to-you-but-not-so-much-anymore, invited you to attend their wedding, would you go?

I can pretty much guess the kind of responses I'll be getting.

So I'm going to narrow down the question a little bit further. Would you go if he was the guy-who-got-away? The one who once in a while still pops into your mind and makes you wonder,"Hmm... what if we had stayed together?"

I'm in a dilemma. Don't get me wrong. I'm more than happy that he's getting married. There was no bitterness when we ended. Though I'm not in love with him anymore, I still love him, get what I mean? But I'm not sure if I'm brave enough to go.

Just getting his invitation card gave me an emotional roller-coaster, so I can't imagine that it'll be any easier for me to watch him say his I-do's with another woman. And I'd really hate to be that girl who looks at the groom with those sad nostalgic eyes.




So should I or should I not go?

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Oct 10, 2008

Spooky Friday: The Period Pad

Scribbled by Perky | Chucked away in ,

In the spirit of Halloween, I've decided to dedicate the Fridays in October to compiling bits and pieces of encounters with the neither-here-nor-there beings.

This one here is something my bestfriend had experienced. *Sheep and her new husband had bought a house in the new housing area in Semariang, Kuching. For those of you who aren't from Kuching, Semariang is like another small town just outside the main city. From young I've heard all sorts of happenings in Semariang, ranging from hysteria to having an uninvited passenger while you're driving at night in Semariang to sightings of "figures" (such as the toyol) on the road.



Pic taken from Xmotu



Anyways, back to their new house. With them being newly weds in a new house, it's no surprise that they'd want to sleep in every room. So on this one particular night, they decided to sleep in the room that was closest to the main door.

As they were dozing off, Sheep's husband got "attacked". What I mean with "attacked" here is that "something" heavy was on top of him and made him feel paralyzed. He wanted to shout but somehow no voice came out from him. We Sarawakians refer to this phenomenon as "kenak timpak" (not sure how to translate that but it's basically the feeling of what I just described above).

As suddenly as the attack had happened, it went away. He felt normal again and he could breathe and move properly. Just when he was about to relax, it happened again.

He tried to fight it. He tried to will all his power to get up but he just couldn't ward off this unseen enemy.

And then that "thing" freed him again. This time he took the chance to wake Sheep up. As she was stirring from her slumber, he got "attacked" for the 3rd consecutive time.

This time, it wasn't just he who felt the presence of the unknown.

As *Sheep was opening her eyes, she felt as if someone was brushing their long hair on her face. Swish swish swish, the hair felt across her face. But when she opened her eyes, there was nothing there.

Sheep got up, switched the lights on. By then her husband was already released by whatever it was that held him captive.

"We must've done something wrong," he said. *Sheep's husband is pretty sensitive to these unseen beings and he has had similar attacks like this before. But never 3 times in a row.

"Do you have your period now?", he asked *Sheep.

To that, Sheep answered yes.

"Then where did you throw your period pad?", he asked her again.

"I think I threw into the bin outside", she replied. Then she went to the basketbin inside the room. And there it was, in plain sight - her period pad.

Needless to say, *Sheep immediately picked up her period pad and properly disposed it in the bin outside the house.

Pic taken from SatanSpace



So the lesson here is dirty period blood is like junk food for ghosts. Ladies, pls throw your pads/tampons properly (I usually wrap mine in newspaper, which I would put in a small plastic bag & throw it into the garbage area outside my apartment).



If you guys got your own personal stories of encounters with the unseen, do share. Afterall this is the month of Halloween!

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Aug 21, 2008

It Takes a Nut to Know a Nut!

Scribbled by Perky | Chucked away in , ,

I was reading the Are You Normal or Nuts? article in Reader's Digest and I do wonder if the readers who wrote-in were actually writing about me ‘coz honestly, it felt like I was reading my life!

Anyways, in Are You Normal or Nuts? article, they discuss about our quirks or wacky characteristics that some of us may possess. I read a few and I do agree that some of them really do need to seek professional help. Hehehe…

One person wrote in:
“I have to use things until they wear out before getting new ones. It took me seven years to use up 14 bottles of nail polish. I should get a new pair of sandals, but my old ones aren't completely worn-out yet, so I'll wait. My friends tell me this is not normal.”

I can relate to that. My sister likes to buy toiletries and she doesn’t wait til they’re finished before she buys a new one. That’s especially true with facial products and shampoo. If she feels like trying something new, she’ll just get a new one. Which is so unlike me coz I cannot use something new until the old one has finished. And that would explain why I have a closet full of toiletries!


Another person who wrote in said:
"I have trouble concentrating. If I'm on the phone and someone in the room is talking to me, I block them both out. Driving home, I sometimes space out and can't remember big chunks of the trip. My head's always wandering into la-la land. Is that nuts? "

Man, that’s so like me. I have really short attention span. I can even switch conversation topics while talking just like that *snaps fingers*. I’ve been trying to kick this habit as it annoys the hell out of my friends. Hahaha!

I’m pretty sure I’m not alone on this. I’m damn sure that there’s lots of us out there who’s hiding our little quirky side. So let’s all share our oddities together and have a laugh at it!


Sponsored by Reader's Digest

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Jul 12, 2008

When A Bun Is Baking In Your Oven

Scribbled by Perky | Chucked away in , ,

(Gross content ahead. You have been warned!)

Perhaps I shouldn't call it a bun that I'm baking in my oven, as that would most likely give you the wrong idea. No, I'm not preggers. I repeat, NOT preggers.

I'm actually referring to the chocolate muffin that we deposit into the toilet bowl every morning. Oh yes, that kind of chocolate muffin.

I don't know about you guys, but I for one, cannot go in public toilets. If it's not the toilet in my home, then there's just no way I can just go. I know there are people who are able to just take a dump wherever they are. But I can't. Period. (Well, unless if I was having diarrhoea... but that's diarrhoea. If you have to go, you have to go. Otherwise, you might end up soiling your pants... which is really, really embarrassing).

Now, because I can only go in my own toilet, that means I either get my business done in the morning or after I've come home from work. But then, there are times when, for whatever reasons, I was unable to take a dump - such as rushing to go to work, or just didn't feel like it in the morning. So I go to work feeling like there's something up my a$$, literally. I'm sure you guys are familiar with the constipated feeling.

Even when I do feel like going, simply because I'm not at home, I will just bear with it the whole day. Like I said, I won't go in public places. I won't budge.


(Pic Courtesy of Le Merde)


I believe I am like this because I feel embarassed to do my "business" in public toilets. This feeling of embarassment probably came from such ridiculous paranoia such as:
1) I'm afraid that I will stink up the entire toilet. I have this picture in my head of being greeted by people holding their noses once I come out from my cubicle. It's either that, or being greeted by a group of girls whispering amongst themselves,"Nehhhh... that's the girl who was taking a dump".
2) I'm afraid of the "ploop" sound that the shit makes when it goes into the toilet bowl. Man, that's a dead giveaway of letting people know that I've taken a dump.


I mean, I've heard the person in the next cubicle fart while piss and that was enough to make me laugh my ass off. Can you imagine if I knew they were taking a dump? My God, they'll never hear the end of it from me!

McChef finds this behavior very bizarre. He even calls me "tangki taik". But I just can't help myself. It's the same as getting me to eat onions, I suppose. I'd rather slit my wrists than having to go in public toilets!



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