Style…
My dad was right about one thing. It’s everyone for themselves. And those that don’t wisen up to this fact soon enough, get taken for a ride and left to eat dust.
Don’t get me wrong. If someone can do good, it is only when it is at no major cost or damage to themselves. Good deeds do occur. But no one is that stupid and still alive. Or functioning.
And this even applies to family. Not even your own mother is immune. And that’s where I keep banging my head against a wall. I believed that my family would move mountains like I would for them. But so wrong. It’s only as long as it’s no skin off their nose.
And no, just because I said ‘mom’ above doesn’t mean I’m pointing a finger at her. Rather, its an example of how deep betrayal can go.
There’s no such thing as unconditional love. There’s always conditions.
That depressing philosophy aside, I got dragged for ‘Tashan’ today. It was a one-view flick. Lots of people thought it sucked, and I agree to a certain extent. But it was a funny movie. The highlight of the movie was seeing Saif’s arse being torched in the climax. And I totally envy Kareena’s hair. I so want my hair in a similar style…beach wavy curls.
I think I’m depressed…
Weekend? What Weekend?
P is back. And it wasn’t quite the fireworks and marching band I was building up in my head. But I’m glad he’s back. Why do I feel this way? Probably the build-up. In my head, I was expecting running down the road to each other, hugging and kissing like we’ll never see each other again. And reality? I’m too buried under work and too exhausted to battle Deira traffic. And he was too tired to come to my quieter part of town.
But will be hopefully meeting this weekend, if I’m still alive by then. April and May are like super busy months. I’m just so exhausted nowadays. I don’t feel like arguing with anyone unless its really worth my time and energy.
I’m gonna be working the entire 29th 
Happy Bday to me. I guess I can truly say that I don’t feel the magic anymore. It’s just another ordinary, work-filled day. ho hum.
Assorted Things…
Oh my head.
Current shot count: 4 remain.
Note to self. Must clean car before taking mom for shopping. Else face wrath of never-ending nagging.
Oh my head.
My previous post had me at an extremely low point in life. I don’t feel so low anymore, but I’m still figuring out how to deal with this. Should I invest more time and energy (and money and heartbreak) and get a second opinion? Do I really want to know anymore? Do I really care? Those are a few questions going through my mind.
Oh my head. *massages temples*
A ray of sunshine. P will be back earliest by Tuesday. It makes me go all fuzzy and warm inside thinking about it. But I’m not going to just sit and pine like I did before with the others. All these months passed by in a blink, so three days won’t kill me. Nor will the world stop just because anticipation paralyzes me. So work it is. And there is quite a bit to do.
Oh my head!!! *massages neck*
And I must deforest my arms and legs. No, not because he’s coming – ok, maybe just a little. But the D-Day draws near – ten days to go. So as a little favor to myself, I’m going to at least look and feel a little more feminine.
Ohhh….me poor head! *vows to never binge again*
Finished my first recording yesterday. Will perfect it a lil more and then put it up. Or maybe I should put it up anyway and get feedback. What say? The link can be heard here and also here
Ohhhhhhh…my ‘ead!!!
Barren…
I’ve been a very naughty girl today. Had two ciggies, even though they were these Davidoff super-lights which had 1mg of the bad stuff, compared to the 6gms of the usual.
I’m not sure if I remember blogging about it, but I had a leftover stash from the bachelorette party…about 8 shots of assorted flavors. Today I opened another one – raspberry. It’s quite yummy with Pepsi – another thing I shouldn’t be touching. But I felt so hormonal and isolated. And trapped. Yes, I feel trapped. Trapped within myself. Anyway, my current count: 5 shots remain.
The week was a little crazy. There was the Career Fair, and a seminar (totally boring), and a few other things that prevented me from blogging much. There were good and bad things. I guess I better get rid of the bad stuff first. Well, I admit that except for being a coordinator and extra hand, I was quite useless at the exhibition. But I didn’t complain much, it was a welcome relief.
I guess I’m having some sort of quarter-life crisis…I wonder if mid-life crisis is similar? I feel like a recluse (partially of my own doing) and I’m just so desperate to talk to someone that I blab like it’s my last shot at talking. And I end up baring my soul to people for all the wrong reasons. I can feel my own desperation creeping up on me. I’m chatting up kids – yes, kids- at least 4-5 years my junior at some half-baked attempt to get my youth back – feel the popular feeling I felt at high school, or some desperate grasping at straws for some part of my childhood where I felt a little happy. Now don’t get me wrong. I do have friends younger to me. But I can sense that things aren’t right. I’m just some old fossil trying to hold on to something that’s already slipped away. I hate this feeling of desperation. I hate this loss of control.
The same loss of control on my own body. Granted, I haven’t been taking the best care of it. But I always had a manufacturing defect in the baking department, abuse or not. I honestly couldn’t care less if I ever have any buns baked or not, I can always get bread from other bakers who don’t want their bread. But I’m sick of everyone telling me I’m not a woman because my oven is broken. I’m not upset and heartbroken because I can’t have kids or be a regular woman…I’m upset because of everyone carping about how I can live with myself and not do anything about it. Like I’m lazy.
I was. Now I’m not. I spent the past two months in mental agony and in silence, not telling my own family I’m going to the doctor. That I’m trying to fix my problem. But what did I get? Nothing but a ‘get married’ from two doctors. Basically, get laid. Like that’s helped. I’m back to square one. And I’m thoroughly depressed. I can’t be fixed. I’m barren. And I’m devastated. Because now my biggest fear will come true. I’m not going to meet Mr. Right because I can’t have his kids. I’m going to die alone. I don’t want kids. But he will. And what answer will I have? I am a complete failure as a woman.
And you know why I don’t go to the gym anymore? Because they’ll keep nagging about my period, and how it is a blessing to get it and that I will want kids. I CAN’T HAVE KIDS YOU MORON!!!! I NEVER WILL NOW!!! IT DOESN’T MATTER HOW MUCH WEIGHT I LOSE!!!!! I’M STILL BARREN AND HALF A WOMAN AND NOTHING YOU SAY WILL CHANGE THAT!!!!!AND REMINDING ME OF THAT CURSED BLESSING ONLY RUBS IT IN ASSHOLE!!!!
Even though so many guys (cute too) flirted with me at the exhibition and I flirted back, the joy was gone. I saw no point. Everything will end anyway. I’m barren. I’m worthless.
I broke down now. I’m still sobbing as I’m typing this. I’m just laughing at the pathetic excuse of a human I’ve become. My highlight of my weekend includes beating the computer at tycoon level of monopoly. At least I’m getting used to being on my own. I’m going to go now. And let the raspberry rum warm me over and put me to sleep. If there’s anything I wish for dearly, I really wish I could never wake up.
Your Love Is A Lie…
Like this song too:
I fall asleep by the telephone
It’s 2 O’clock and I’m waiting up alone
Tell me where have you been?
I found a note with another name
You blow a kiss, but it just don’t feel the same
Cause I can feel that you’re gone
I can’t bite my tongue forever
While you try to play it cool
You can hide behind your stories
But don’t take me for a fool
You can tell me that there’s nobody else(But I feel it)
You can tell me that you’re home by yourself(But I see it)
You can look into my eyes and pretend all you want
But I know
Your love is just a lie(Lie)
It’s nothing but a lie(Lie)
You look so innocent
But the guilt in your voice gives you away
Yeah you know what I mean
How does it feel when you kiss when you know that i trust you
And do you think about me when he fucks you?
Could you be more obscene?
So don’t try to say you’re sorry
Or try to make it right
Don’t waste your breath because it’s too late, it’s too late.
You can tell me that there’s nobody else(But I feel it)
You can tell me that you’re home by yourself(But I see it)
You can look into my eyes and pretend all you want
But I know, I know,
Your love is just a lie(Lie)
It’s nothing but a lie(Lie)
You’re nothing but a lie
You can tell me that there’s nobody else(But I feel it)
You can tell me that you’re home by yourself(But I see it)
You can look into my eyes and pretend all you want
But I know, I know
Your love is just a lie(Lie)
I know you’re nothing but a lie(Lie)
Lie(Lie)
Lie(Lie)
Lie
Your love is just a lie
What’s Wrong With Me?!
V. depressed today. Remember that entire gynae-fiasco I had this weekend? Well, it was all for a referral to another doc because the gynae said it wasn’t in her department. So got sent to someone in nephrology. And guess what that bugger told me? My problem can only be solved by ‘marriage’. Ok, so I asked a lil further. Was it due to sexual activity or the whole pregnancy-childbirth thing? The bugger couldn’t even explain it to me properly – he said things like ‘excitement being next to your husband’ and the whole hormone imbalance righting itself by being next to a man. Ok, I guess he meant sex.
I was tempted to blurt out ‘yea! like that helped me!’ but realized that if he couldn’t even say ’sexual activity’, he was more likely to haul me in for ‘fornication’ or something.
I am angry. But I am depressed. Because I am no closer to finding out what is really wrong with my body. And no, marriage isn’t an answer. But I know I have a hormonal imbalance. I have more male than female hormones running in my body. And that is depressing knowing that. I feel…I feel less womanly. I feel disgusted at myself. And I feel desperate and hopeless.
No, my mum doesn’t know. She’ll probably start taking it to heart that marriage is the answer. Noooooo…no tell mommy. And sis? no. I can’t tell her either. She’ll either start harping about the gym or she’s too busy to really give me her full attention. Which is something I so desperately want. Full attention on me, with no distractions. No ADD. Me me me.
Yes, I want to be selfish. I want and deserve someone’s full attention, not a half-hearted stolen moment in time, or meeting me when the other person isn’t there, like some dirty lil secret. Maybe that’s why I’m so alone. Because I’m not fine with that anymore. I want so much more than what people can give me…*sigh*
I feel even worse. I was so depressed I binged on 20 McDonald’s Chicken Nuggets and large fries. I feel so full I think I’m gonna puke it out soon. I feel sick. And depressed. I’m just a big lump of lard….
Who Knew…
This song struck a chord with me:
Who Knew
You took my hand you showed me how
You promised me you’d be around
Uh huh
That’s right
I took your words and I believed
In everything you said to me
Yeah huh
That’s right
If someone said three years from now
You’d be long gone
I’d stand up and punch them out
Cause they’re all wrong
I know better
‘Cause you said forever
And ever
Who knew
Remember when we were such fools
And so convinced and just too cool
Oh no,
No no.
I wish I could touch you again
I wish I could still call you a friend
I’d give anything
When someone said count your blessings now
‘fore they’re long gone
I guess I just didn’t know how
I was all wrong
They knew better
Still you said forever
And ever
Who knew
Yeah yeah
I’ll keep you locked in my head
Until we meet again
Until we
Until we meet again
And I won’t forget you my friend
What happened
If someone said three years from now
You’d be long gone
I’d stand up and punch them out
Cause they’re all wrong and
That last kiss
I’ll cherish
Until we meet again
And time makes it harder
I wish I could remember
But I keep your memory
You visit me in my sleep
My darling
Who knew
My darling
My darling
Who knew
My darling
I miss you
My Darling
Who Knew…
Poila Boishak…
I have that annoying Mariah Carey song in my head…y’know, the one that sounds like a horny chipmunk being screwed (oh yea oh yea oh yea oh yea oh yea).
Big boss is back, so informed her about my Masters. She was cool. Somehow the whole Master’s thing became anti-climatic for me. And now I give up in trying to make it a big deal and illiciting some response that I’m doing the right thing.
Found out today is Poila Boishak. So happy new year to everyone. Although it is my culture, the only festive thing I did today was wear a bright top and attempt to wish my rather uninterested colleagues about a somewhat obscure celebration in this part of the world. It wasn’t as bad as giving them a historical and geographical lesson on why I come from two separate countries yet I’m of the same ethnicity – Indian bengali (Kolkatta) and Bangladeshi Bengali (Dhaka). Explaining ‘Bengal’ as opposed to ‘Bangladesh’ gave me a migraine.
The countdown to D-day begins: another 15 days to go.
Oh baby!
V. cranky. It all began from yesterday with the gynae-fiasco. It’s all turning out to be a fun screenplay, so I’m not going into details about it. Although it involves lots of waiting, a labor room, and one question: “Are you pregnant?” *grrrrr*
Lots of ideas are popping in my head lately. Ideas of improving myself, doing work, getting in the mood to start my own projects. Perhaps Tommy was right. I wouldn’t really get down to starting my own stuff until I settle in at work. I can’t believe its been almost 10 months. I’m a working girl now. No, not that way you pervs. I’m actually going about arranging things and being a go-getter, sweet-talking people and sealing the deals 
…lol, makes me sound like a hustler.
Funny enough, I know I hate communicating with people and I’m still wary of even ordering pizza if it involves interacting with another human being. I sometimes swallow words and mumble. But when it comes to my job, or something I truly care about, I aim to kill. I wheel and deal, practice diplomacy, work my way around people. I’m a totally different person. Why? Why am I such a chameleon?
Now that I think of Tommy, I wonder how he’s doing. Should FB-PM him. Funny enough, when the Dubai Eye thing happened, and we’re getting more publicity and work is going well, the first person I thought of that I wanted them to know about all this is him. I guess I look up to him as a mentor. Especially since a lot of my work requires writing and skills I learned in his classes.
Newsflash…
Is it just me or is everyone in the blogsphere disappearing (except people who’s job is to blog)?
I know I’ve gotten busy and I don’t blog as much, but every time I pass by my bookmarked blogs, I see that most of them haven’t been updated in a while. Where has everyone gone?! Or is April simply a desolate month?
My bonsai died Well, it never really grew to begin with. Against my common sense, I followed the instruction in the kit to a T. So my bonsai never grew….
My best bud isn’t coming in time for my bday. He’s stuck in UK till June, and even then he may not be back. dammit….
I have a date today. Or so. I’m not going unless the bugger does it the way I want it. Like call. So I’m not really waiting around. I’m assuming I’m not having a date. So it’s an undate-date…
I’m overbooked tomorrow. Have a troop meeting, a doc appointment, and my second date (another person!) all around the same time. Anyway, I’ll see how it goes…
Called P today and had a nice chat. It was enlightening experience…
The books have it right. Some buggers who I kinda had a one-day fling with rang me up last week. Or rather SMSed and MSNed (pet peeves of mine and a sure-fire way of getting the acid end of my wit). I acted bitchy with them, not because it would help, but because they deserved it. And guess what? They both asked me out! I wasn’t excited really. Amused perhaps.
And they wanted to meet with me like the next day or so. I was really busy, not just play-busy. So I said this weekend. What?! Don’t look at me like that…I’m bored, alone and if someone wants to pick me up and take me out somewhere, why shouldn’t I? I’ve been whining for the past few weeks about how I sit at home every weekend. Besides, I know what they really want. A chance to see if my upstairs match my downstairs (I generally try to match them). But I’m really not interested…I’m not!!! I’m actually just wanting to be with P.
I think I’m coming down with PBBS (Pre-Birthday Blues Syndrome). Although, since the date is fast approaching, it may be developing to full-blown BBS. Ho-hum…
Well, that’s all the news for now. Till later…xoxo
