Once in a while I moan about the fact that I don't have any potential candidates for a lover but that's where I'd be lying. In fact I actually have more than a few. Unfortunately... although I am looking for someone sweet, funny, charming and masculine, my overly ambitious nurses seem to excel in covering all the bases except the last. Yeah, the masculine part seems to have been conveniently misplaced in their criteria.
Yes. Following the old cliche of eligible doctors ( who must be married off at all costs! ), these budding matchmaking mamas do actually throw their marriageable daughters at me.
Unfortunately I'm not much into catching them. Any other straight guy would have been puffed up in their conceit but I was unmoved. Impersonating a Chinese matchmaker of the past, one of the more persistent biddies shoved a photo album of her darling daughter at me today, extolling her manifold virtues. Not only can the girl quote molecular biology, she can also cook a gourmet meal, sing operatic arias and rescue little stray dogs from speeding buses. Okay, so I am exaggerating more than a little. As I spent my time trying my best to assume some modicum of interest, I started squirming uneasily on my seat since it was highly embarassing for me - and I would assume somewhere in the hallowed halls of a English college, a poor innocent girl is blushing right to her ears.
However I did my best in turning the offer down, claiming a prior engagement. I bit my tongue to keep myself from blurting out the fact that an eligible son or nephew would have been more palatable to my taste.
Okay. A moment to ponder the image of Chris Evans naked and oiled on a platter with grapes. Sigh.
See why I need a permanent boyfriend to ward away such attempts?
Tuesday, December 06, 2005
Monday, December 05, 2005
Cellular
Talking about bad calls, well that's what I had last night. Literally running ragged all day long till 8 this morning and it's been damned tiring. Lots of careless boys on rusty bikes and a handful of amnesiac octogenarians who conveniently forget their medications ( What? I still have hypertension? I am shocked.. oh whoa, what's that pain in my chest! ). Okay, I shouldn't be making fun of them ( poor taste, I know! ) but these are the times when I wish curfews and severe punishments were placed on some patients :)
Dude, didja see my husband Paul? Seem to have misplaced him.
Managed to resurface sometime late in the evening just in time to catch my future husband, Chris Evans, running around in a tight red tee wrapped deliciously around that muscular torso. Damned lucky shirt. He does manage to get the T-shirt off for a few moments but certainly not long enough in my opinion.
Somehow or rather the poor guy gets an inconvenient phone call on his cellular from a damsel in distress unsurprisingly locked up in an attic. Since he's a pretty sexy, delicious ( in a wanna-slather-him-in-honey-and-lick-every-inch-kinda-way ) but utterly self-involved fella, he dismisses the call initially but once his nascent conscience starts kicking in, he finds himself getting in way over his head over kidnapping plans and a buncha thickheaded thugs lead by another dead-sexy... Jason Statham.
Still it was interesting watching my darling hubby play around with his fabulous Nokia - and all the added functions. For a technohimbo who has only recently mastered the art of SMS, it is certainly incredible to see exactly what the cellular can do. At work, I see my colleagues tweaking their PDAs and their cellphones, sending e-mail, MMS and God-knows-what. Downloading videos, taking pictures and stuff is certainly mind-boggling enough for me :) Hell, what next are they going to think of!
Dude, didja see my husband Paul? Seem to have misplaced him.
Managed to resurface sometime late in the evening just in time to catch my future husband, Chris Evans, running around in a tight red tee wrapped deliciously around that muscular torso. Damned lucky shirt. He does manage to get the T-shirt off for a few moments but certainly not long enough in my opinion.
Somehow or rather the poor guy gets an inconvenient phone call on his cellular from a damsel in distress unsurprisingly locked up in an attic. Since he's a pretty sexy, delicious ( in a wanna-slather-him-in-honey-and-lick-every-inch-kinda-way ) but utterly self-involved fella, he dismisses the call initially but once his nascent conscience starts kicking in, he finds himself getting in way over his head over kidnapping plans and a buncha thickheaded thugs lead by another dead-sexy... Jason Statham.
Still it was interesting watching my darling hubby play around with his fabulous Nokia - and all the added functions. For a technohimbo who has only recently mastered the art of SMS, it is certainly incredible to see exactly what the cellular can do. At work, I see my colleagues tweaking their PDAs and their cellphones, sending e-mail, MMS and God-knows-what. Downloading videos, taking pictures and stuff is certainly mind-boggling enough for me :) Hell, what next are they going to think of!
Saturday, December 03, 2005
More than a lil green
A lazy Saturday spent in bed certainly warrants two posts in a day. Actually missed a wedding today and I am still feeling a little guilty about it. Not that it was a really close friend of mine but still...
What can I say? Each time I attend a wedding, I can't help but feel that slight pang of jealousy that someone has finally found their significant other, their soulmate, the person they're going to spend the rest of their lives with and hopefully the same someone they're able to share their thoughts, hopes and feelings with. And horrible thought it may sound, I sometimes feel myself wondering what the hell's wrong with me. Hey, I like myself - egoistic though that might have sounded - but I can't help wondering about my obvious inadequacies when I find myself still single when a number of my peers have been snapped up like so much IKEA items on a megasale. And honestly ( and I feel like a monster here! ) some of them are irregular, uneven, used benches and chairs that should have been better put to the trash compactor.
My God. The Couch!
Sure, I wouldn't put myself in the range of high-end Italian designer leather furniture since I'm more the regular, utilitarian stools on sale in the IKEA bargain basement but hey, I'm at least still salvageable. And a new coat of paint will jazz the stool up anytime.
So anyone out there in need of furniture?
What can I say? Each time I attend a wedding, I can't help but feel that slight pang of jealousy that someone has finally found their significant other, their soulmate, the person they're going to spend the rest of their lives with and hopefully the same someone they're able to share their thoughts, hopes and feelings with. And horrible thought it may sound, I sometimes feel myself wondering what the hell's wrong with me. Hey, I like myself - egoistic though that might have sounded - but I can't help wondering about my obvious inadequacies when I find myself still single when a number of my peers have been snapped up like so much IKEA items on a megasale. And honestly ( and I feel like a monster here! ) some of them are irregular, uneven, used benches and chairs that should have been better put to the trash compactor.
My God. The Couch!
Sure, I wouldn't put myself in the range of high-end Italian designer leather furniture since I'm more the regular, utilitarian stools on sale in the IKEA bargain basement but hey, I'm at least still salvageable. And a new coat of paint will jazz the stool up anytime.
So anyone out there in need of furniture?
Pirates and Scissors
On evenings that I find myself relatively free, I occasionally cruise around the town hunting for the locations of pirates. Certainly not the swarthy, swashbuckling types equipped with swords and eye patches but the more mundane kind that we find here. The rough, fast-talking, dyed-blond Chinese boys ( why are they usually Chinese btw? :) ) who lean over overcrowded tables to advertise their wares. And as much as I'd like to play with their ample wares, I usually ask only for their stash of pirated discs.
Sure, such piracy isn't as common as it is in other bigger cities such as Kuala Lumpur but Malacca does have its share of notorious pirated dvd stalls. Not that easy to find anymore but still they are still around - in various secluded nooks and crannies that I shall not divulge in case some overzealous cop is reading this. Due to the recent crackdown in such illegal activies, the pirates have become more than a little paranoid and their shifty, furtive eyes frequently scan their environs, waiting to make a quick getaway in case the boys in blue come on their witchhunt.
But I actually hope they manage to survive. We do need them after all.
It's not the price - although I do find the prices a little steep for my taste. But what I object most is to the censorship - and it seems that the government has finally come to realize that one of the reasons we all flock to the bootleg discs is because of the heavily censored movies shown here. As all of us know, the censorship board in this country have talents ( to slice and dice ) that would do Edward Scissorhands proud - and I have certainly ranted about it before. For some inexplicable, the censorship board here persists in the assumption that Malaysians are innocent, simple country folk whose naivete is only rivalled by a convent of cloistered nuns in the inhospitable Himalayas and even worse, so terribly weak in their principles to be swayed easily by the slightest hint of immoral sex, gratuitous violence and undemocratic politics. Still their editing certainly has warped values and at times, it seems they would prefer us to watch gruesome scenes of victims being butchered mercilessly rather than a gentle kiss between two consenting adults. Obviously Make War not Love is their motto.
Okay. Deep breath.
This Big Brother mentality certainly gets on my nerves sometimes. As much as I would like to support the artists ( who I assume are already making enough driving in their pimped Cadillacs and living in their Bel Air mansions ), I would also prefer not to have an overzealous guardian watching over me - and editing out portions that they deem unfit for viewing.
And if they had their way, I certainly wouldn't ever have a chance to watch Brokeback Mountain. A film with two cowboys in love? Good heavens. What could possibly happen if the film was shown here? In the simplistic minds of the censors, they immediately extrapolate nightmarish visions where all the men in the country are irrevocably turned to their dark gay side giving in to their animalistic impulses after watching the two cowboys canoodling in the mountains. Wild, immoralistic decadence would prevail over their so-called traditional values and civilization as we know it would slide slowly into hell.
Seriously. Does that actually come to pass? As much as I'd enjoy the titillating fantasy, I don't think any of my straight friends are likely to switch sides and leap into the sack with me if they were to watch two guys kissing. If that actually worked, I'd be far too busy trying to convert Chris Evans to my side.
I, for one, am waiting to watch Heath Ledger and Jake Gyllenhaal find love in the mountains - and lately, hunting down pirates in dark lanes seem to be the only way to go.
Sure, such piracy isn't as common as it is in other bigger cities such as Kuala Lumpur but Malacca does have its share of notorious pirated dvd stalls. Not that easy to find anymore but still they are still around - in various secluded nooks and crannies that I shall not divulge in case some overzealous cop is reading this. Due to the recent crackdown in such illegal activies, the pirates have become more than a little paranoid and their shifty, furtive eyes frequently scan their environs, waiting to make a quick getaway in case the boys in blue come on their witchhunt.
But I actually hope they manage to survive. We do need them after all.
It's not the price - although I do find the prices a little steep for my taste. But what I object most is to the censorship - and it seems that the government has finally come to realize that one of the reasons we all flock to the bootleg discs is because of the heavily censored movies shown here. As all of us know, the censorship board in this country have talents ( to slice and dice ) that would do Edward Scissorhands proud - and I have certainly ranted about it before. For some inexplicable, the censorship board here persists in the assumption that Malaysians are innocent, simple country folk whose naivete is only rivalled by a convent of cloistered nuns in the inhospitable Himalayas and even worse, so terribly weak in their principles to be swayed easily by the slightest hint of immoral sex, gratuitous violence and undemocratic politics. Still their editing certainly has warped values and at times, it seems they would prefer us to watch gruesome scenes of victims being butchered mercilessly rather than a gentle kiss between two consenting adults. Obviously Make War not Love is their motto.
Okay. Deep breath.
This Big Brother mentality certainly gets on my nerves sometimes. As much as I would like to support the artists ( who I assume are already making enough driving in their pimped Cadillacs and living in their Bel Air mansions ), I would also prefer not to have an overzealous guardian watching over me - and editing out portions that they deem unfit for viewing.
And if they had their way, I certainly wouldn't ever have a chance to watch Brokeback Mountain. A film with two cowboys in love? Good heavens. What could possibly happen if the film was shown here? In the simplistic minds of the censors, they immediately extrapolate nightmarish visions where all the men in the country are irrevocably turned to their dark gay side giving in to their animalistic impulses after watching the two cowboys canoodling in the mountains. Wild, immoralistic decadence would prevail over their so-called traditional values and civilization as we know it would slide slowly into hell.
Seriously. Does that actually come to pass? As much as I'd enjoy the titillating fantasy, I don't think any of my straight friends are likely to switch sides and leap into the sack with me if they were to watch two guys kissing. If that actually worked, I'd be far too busy trying to convert Chris Evans to my side.
I, for one, am waiting to watch Heath Ledger and Jake Gyllenhaal find love in the mountains - and lately, hunting down pirates in dark lanes seem to be the only way to go.
Thursday, December 01, 2005
Financial insolvency
Today I finally got a huge load off my shoulders. During a short break at work, I went to the bank ( such an adult thing! ) and paid off my huge credit card bill. Astronomical actually especially after the terrible blow dealt by my absolutely insane expenditure in Turkey. With the amount of cash I spent in Turkey - thereby lending aid to the bustling local economy, they should have gift-wrapped a gorgeous Turk for me to bring home along with the Turkish Delights.
That would certainly have been a consolation after receiving the hefty VISA bill last month. Instead I was left with several amazing rugs, a couple of lamps - and nervous palpitations each time I drove by the bank, keeping my guilt-ridden face carefully hidden from view with a variety of ingenious disguises. I freely admit it. I am one of those obsessive, tight-assed weirdos who actually pay their credit card bills in full every month - thereby incurring the incredulous wrath of the devious bank credit managers.
But I didn't do so last month. It was the first time in almost five years.
How could I possibly do so! The sum was astronomical and sadly enough, I don't earn in a month ( a year? ) what Bill Gates makes in a minute. Or even what the Wingedman makes ( can you tell that I am envious as hell :) ) Surely I am debunking the patently false myth of doctors making money hand over fist but that's all a huge lie perpetuated to lure innocent students into the heinous world of medicine. Although there are a handful of high flyers in the private hospitals having sinful bags of money thrown at them, the rest of us working doctors are usually paid a pittance in comparison.
It is barely enough to support the lifestyle of a goldfish - much less me :) Which is why I actually depend on the kindness of strangers - and occasionally my ISO - for free meals. Half the time I feel like prostituting myself just to make ends meet ( it's an honest living, dammit! ) but I doubt I'd even earn a decent buck.
Maybe if I looked as good as Chris Evans.
That would certainly have been a consolation after receiving the hefty VISA bill last month. Instead I was left with several amazing rugs, a couple of lamps - and nervous palpitations each time I drove by the bank, keeping my guilt-ridden face carefully hidden from view with a variety of ingenious disguises. I freely admit it. I am one of those obsessive, tight-assed weirdos who actually pay their credit card bills in full every month - thereby incurring the incredulous wrath of the devious bank credit managers.But I didn't do so last month. It was the first time in almost five years.
How could I possibly do so! The sum was astronomical and sadly enough, I don't earn in a month ( a year? ) what Bill Gates makes in a minute. Or even what the Wingedman makes ( can you tell that I am envious as hell :) ) Surely I am debunking the patently false myth of doctors making money hand over fist but that's all a huge lie perpetuated to lure innocent students into the heinous world of medicine. Although there are a handful of high flyers in the private hospitals having sinful bags of money thrown at them, the rest of us working doctors are usually paid a pittance in comparison.
It is barely enough to support the lifestyle of a goldfish - much less me :) Which is why I actually depend on the kindness of strangers - and occasionally my ISO - for free meals. Half the time I feel like prostituting myself just to make ends meet ( it's an honest living, dammit! ) but I doubt I'd even earn a decent buck.
Maybe if I looked as good as Chris Evans.
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