The Rage

Hopefully, it is a well-known fact to men everywhere that women, when tired and especially HUNGRY, turn into complete monsters.

I’m talking a total personality change. From sweetheart to ball-breaker (Mr. Mo’s favourite word). From placid to raging lunatic. Kind of like the Incredible Hulk.

In other words: just another normal day being a woman.

If your woman has not had anything to eat for 6 hours and has had little or no sleep for the last few days, you will have a monster on your hands – quick, get the little lady something to eat! Preferably with sugar! Then send her to bed with a nice foot/back/shoulder massage and plenty of kisses. Let her bitch and whine and moan – it’s not the real her that’s talking or saying those horrible things.

Think of it like the movie The Exorcist: it’s not really the little girl who was saying “Let Jesus f**ck you!” It was the devil.

I think this is where the phrase “The Devil made me do it” came from: a hungry, angry woman in the grip of a murderous rage.

I have spells of this monster from time to time whenever I am hungry, tired and my patience is depleted. I cannot bring myself to be civil and laugh at some of Mr. Mo’s more inane jokes. I am unable to filter my snide comments. I cannot do anything but feel the beast gnawing on my insides and driving me absolutely bananas. But usually, I am able to just quell the fury before it gets totally out of control. It might come off as me being a bit bitchy, when in fact deep down inside I want to gouge out the eyes of anyone who wants to waste my time and basically get in the way of me and my only goal: food / sleep.

I got a new job on Monday that is physically and emotionally rewarding, but equally draining on my energy and spirits: teaching.

I am the kind of person who needs at least 8 hours of sleep a night to function. So imagine what it was like when I was sleeping only 4 hours (if that!) a night for 4 days straight. Hey man, I’m missing 16 hours of sleep here!!

On top of that, because I am so busy, I don’t even take my 30 minute lunch break. Which means that after my hurried bowl of cereal at 7:00am, I basically do not eat anything else ’til class finishes at 1:15pm. Do the math. That is over 6 frickin’ hours. 

Naturally, I feel quite irritable by then, but I am extremely good at concealing it with big smiles and friendly greetings. Inside, I am seething. I’m not mad at anyone, no. But if you are the unlucky sonofabitch who happens to say the wrong thing in front of me at the wrong time… you don’t wanna know what I might do or say!!!

One day after work, I had to make a pit stop at the supermarket to pick up some essentials (eggs, milk, bread… ok, our pantry was empty alright!). I could not face another day of coming home to an empty fridge. It’s depressing. So I mustered up the last reserves of my will and energy and dragged my sorry butt to Woolworths.

Boy, are there a lot of morons at the supermarket!

First you have a bunch of annoying kids playing chasey and running rings around you.

Then, you have people who walk slowly and block the entire aisle, or people who are walking fast but stop or turn abruptly, almost crashing into you.

Usually if someone is blocking my way in an aisle, I just smile and say “sorry, excuse me” and so on, so they will move out of the way.

This time, I still said it, but without a smile and through gritted teeth. What I was really saying in my head was “FUCKING MOVE YOUR ASS YOU WHORE!!!!” I even gave some people the ol’ hip-and-shoulder when they wouldn’t move out of my way. Just kidding. But in my head I wanted to pull them out of the way by their hair, or something like that.

Do NOT get in my way when I am hungry or tired.


Au Naturale

I went to get my hair cut after god knows how long (probably over 6 months) because I couldn’t stand the horrible dry, split ends and also how hard it was to just brush my hair.

It was so bad that whenever I brushed my hair, the dry ends would snap off – if I brushed my hair over the sink, for example, the result would be I would see different lengths of hair ranging from a few milimetres to a few centimetres that have snapped off because my hair was so dry.

So I finally went to the salon and got about two or three inches lopped off.

While I was at the salon I was asking the lady about how to deal with dry hair and what products to use, she asked me what I was currently using. As a LUSH devotee, I just told her I was using “some natural products”.

She asked me, “Why are you using natural products?” with the same look on her face as someone who might have asked me, “Why are you eating poo?”

I dunno, maybe because I like natural products? Maybe I don’t want to have chemical crap on my hair all the time?

Well, I just told her that I thought they would be better on my hair, to which she shook her head and pooh-poohed me, and started rattling off a laundry list of products I should be using instead, such as Kerastase and L’Oreal and all… all of which, I might add, I HAVE used in the past and honestly, did not make much of a difference to my hair at all. I feel the stuff I have used from LUSH* has made a world of difference**, compared to these silicone and alcohol laden products.

* If you’re interested, I highly recommend Big Shampoo, Retread Conditioner, and Jungle Solid Conditioner (OMG this last one blew my mind!). Also, for leave-in treatment after shampooing and conditioning, use R&B Hair Moisturiser 🙂

** The reason my hair was horrible and dry despite me using these products was because a) I was too lazy to use them consistently (but once I did start being more consistent, there was a huge difference) and also because b) when your hair needs cutting, it needs cutting. NO product is gonna get rid of split ends once they’re there.

The clincher of this whole experience?? When the girl who was blow-drying my hair was doing it, she kept marvelling at how good my hair was and how she hasn’t seen hair in such good condition in ages, let alone worked on it. She was practically in a rapturous frenzy as she styled my hair. She told me not to do anything to it (I presume colouring or perming or frizzling and frying it with heating irons and stuff, which I of course never do).

So… I guess using natural stuff works?


This is just a wish to everyone who reads this blog to have an awesome 2012, with all the joy and fortune you dreamed of and deserve, and hopefully the world won’t end.

HAPPY 2012!!!’


Bursts of Gold

The last post was about losing the one and only rose in the bush to a thievin’ bastard.

Well, THIS post is a happy one 🙂

First, because there have been more roses blooming and the plant is doing wonderfully well – photos below.

Second, because I managed to sneak in a post for November, therefore NOT ruining my mission of having a full calendar of posts on my blog 😉

Back to the roses. What a pleasurable sight to see in the morning, when I leave the house. Can you imagine anything more bright, cheery and gorgeous?

The Rose Thief

At the end of last summer, Amir and I got into a DIY phase that saw us building and drilling stuff, doing a spot (or two) of gardening, and so on.

We bought a few plants and set to work planting them – a native bush that is still in midget proportions, a little decorative chilli plant (decorative because the chillies it produces are… well, let’s just say, TINY), a climbing plant that was native to Australia and produced pretty little yellow flowers… and a gorgeous yellow rose bush.

The bad news: the creeping plant died when the idiots at the local council came and sprayed weed killer over it. It just happened to be planted next to the fence so it could climb (and it was climbing fast!), but on the other side of the fence were some weeds… and the council just sprayed the poison indiscriminately, killing our poor, innocent plant.

The good news? The rose bush, which was pretty small and had ONE yellow rose when we planted it…. is flourishing. It’s grown waaay bigger, with many more new leaves sprouting up… but no rose.

Until last week. I spotted the bud, and excitedly awaited its opening. The next day, it was practically in full bloom. I excitedly woke Amir up to show him the fruit of our toil. We sniffed it, made a fuss over it, and waxed lyrical about the fruity, sweet notes of its scent.

Later that evening, it was gone.

Upon close inspection, it appeared that someone had come by, and snipped the new rose cleanly off the bush. It was cut off so neatly, it couldn’t have just fallen off.

I was so pissed.

Look, if I had a rose bush that was just crowded with flowers, by all means, people can come and take one or two, no problem.

But this one had just one. ONE. The first one to bloom since we planted it.

And we had a DAY to enjoy it before some moron came and took it. I didn’t even get to take a photo or anything.


I spent 11 days in Malaysia, visiting family and friends, constantly surrounded by loved ones and engaging in conversation, that to come home to an empty house here in Perth leaves an empty feeling in my soul.

I miss my boyfriend so much. He is away on holidays at the moment and won’t be back for a while. It’s just not the same without him. The dinners in front of the TV, the drives, the walks in the park, feeding the ducks (and having our stale bread scoffed at by the black swan)… I miss all these things.

I know I used to complain about how he can sometimes be ‘overly spontaneous’, like suggesting we go for a quick walk and it ending up an excursion, when I’ve got a pile of Uni work to finish and can’t afford long, meandering walks… but now, I miss it. I need a welcome distraction from the stress of my uni work which is threatening to bury me.

It doesn’t help that I haven’t heard from him since yesterday afternoon. I hope he’s okay. I mean, I know he is, but it’s still not nice missing them and not being able to hear their voice. He’s having phone problems (battery is dead or something), and he usually sends me an email a day but… so far, nothing.

I just miss him so much! It’s been 2 weeks since our mini-airport scene where I saw him properly tear up for the first time ever, as I got ready to board the plane to KL.

Just thinking about it gives me a lump in my throat.


The Things You See

Random post, but yesterday as I parked my car outside my house, I saw school kids crossing the road to and from Garden City shopping centre.

I saw an little Asian boy (ok by little I mean maybe 13 or 14), walking out of Garden City, happily sipping his bubble tea. Then, a few steps away from my car as he was about to turn the corner, he hid his bubble tea in his jacket. I wondered why he did that, and then I saw.

From the opposite direction, a group of kids from his school (all wearing the same school blazer from Applecross Senior High, I think) were walking towards him. He didn’t want them to see him holding his bubble tea.


I imagine it was because he didn’t want to be stereotyped as a typical Asian kid who loves bubble tea. My first reaction to that thought was, who cares!

But when you’re a teenager in high school, you do care. You want your peers to accept you and think you’re cool (or whatever word or phrase kids use these days). You don’t want them to point and laugh, even if, in the grand scheme of things, their opinion really doesn’t matter. It matters here and now.

Perhaps a few years from now, he’ll think back on that incident and smirk to himself. Or he might not remember it at all.

I know I will.