VICTIM

I'm getting cranky lately.

Blame it on the the lack of holidays from school work, MA class and a foster grandmother who pretends she cannot walk while in fact she is gaining weight from just sitting and sleeping and eating, all the time.

The first two problems, I don't really care much as I get paid for what I do in school (monthly salary) and also for marking PMR and SPM papers. And I don't mind the MA class as I love to study andto prove to myself that I am not stupid.

But the third? Not so much. My mom is adopted, along with another boy. My foster grandmother's nephew. He should be the rightful person to look after her (amidst her lies and feigning sick). Instead, he got a bitch for a wife and he has total amnesia that he never called back home to inquire whether his foster mother a.k.a auntie is dead or alive. He only came back for like half a day during Raya with his children. I cannot wait to see how his children would treat him one day. Even his real mother gave up on him. His father died and buried before he got back home. That's ho much he cared.

So, my parents and I are stuck with this foster grandmother. It used to be my brother when I was studying for my first degree. Now that I'm posted here and staying home, the burden lies on my mother's and my shoulder. She faked stroke 18 months ago and when we sent her to the hospital, doctors could not find nothing wrong with her. She pretended she could not walk but she could wiggle her toes and move her limbs. She said she fell but for an octogenarian, she would have had broken bones because of the fall, but the X-ray showed nothing. She just acted like she could not work so that my mother would be forced to look after her. Since my family came back here from Seremban when I was 12, we never had any family vacation for 14 years because we have to look after her. Her nephew a.k.a my mom's foster brother, got away scot-free. I cannot wait how his chidlren would treat him when he is old. Both him and his wife.

I always think of what could have happened if I had stayed there in Seremban. If my foster grandfather did not die when I was 12 and we would not have to move all the way here to Kota Bharu to look after my foster grandmother because she was too stubborn not to move there with us. My father had to ask for a transfer here to Kota Bharu. Even then, my father and my mother were forced to see each other only during weekends because my father's army camp is in Tanah Merah which is a 2 hour drive, making it impossible for him to go to and fro everyday to work. But my foster grandmother failed to see the kindness and sacrifice that our family had shown to her. I hate her. I hate her because I could still remember my mother cry during Ramadhan as my father was not together with us to break fast. I hate her for making my mother cry when she told my mother that my mother is a 'garbage child' (anak tong sampah). I hate her because despite going to the hospital because of low-blood pressure (for which my mother could faint at any time if she is too tired), my mother has to put up with my foster grandmother's antics each and every single fucking day. I hate her because I know our life would be different if she had not taken my mother from her biological parents (to this day, my foster grandmother refused to tell my mother the whereabouts of her biological parents). From the bottom of my heart, I hate her with every single vein in my body.

I never tell anybody this stories before. I put it up here because I know nobody is reading and if they read it, they would not comment on it anyway. I blogged about it here because I'm getting sick and tired when people talk about filial piety and how we should take care of the elderly. During Raya and stuff, there'll be news report or special programme where fake ass celebrity would go to old folks' home and feed them and comb their hair and given them 'duit raya' and what not. And they would blast the children for not taking care of their own parents. I agree that some children should not have been born as they bring nothing but heartache for their parents (I got scandalous skeletons in my closet too) but some children are only victims in this little tug of war of who would look after these unwanted old folks. When they were small, what did their parents do? Did their parents look after them when they were children? Or did their parents abandoned them? It is not fair to hear only one side of the story and it is not fair to make judgements of the children if we do not know the history of the old folks and how they treated their kids when they were young.

I'm unfortunate that my real paternal grandparents (whom I know for my parents' stories) died before I could get to know them. If not, they would spoil me, I'm sure. My foster grandfather were a kind man and my mother has fond memories of him. I could still remember him buying me two ice creams instead of one even though I had a cold. I remember him as a soft-spoken person who never rose his voice to others. He was also fond of animals like goats and took care of the goats really well that from the sound of his motorcycle returning home from his work, his goats would come running to see him.

It seems good people, die early. If that is the case, I would have a long way to go and more sins to commit.

UOX

Back in my university days during my first degree, since I was always broke, I subscribed to UOX by Celcom.

As the picture above suggests, there is no credit expiry until the end of your life of 25 years.

So, recently I passed that 'no credit expiry' age.

I've been having that number since the third year of my first degree (since I'm 21/22).

So, today I tried sending SMS to my colleague and the SMS failed.

That's when I realized the expiry date was like 5 days ago.

And that got me thinking. I'm expired.

I'm neither young nor should get discount or limitless expiration date for credit and prepaid top up.

I'm no longer should be considered for freebies for I'm no longer a broke-ass student.

Shot just got serious.

Responsibilities and people to answer to. Some explaining to do when you fucked up. Say, if my Form 5 kids failed (God forbid) in their SPM because they are too half-assed to write the answer despite my warning, and the passing percentage affected the overall achievement of the school, I'll be in deep shit. I got to answer to the Principal, parents, and also to God for not carrying out my responsibility as a teacher. For not giving them more exercises to work on, despite them throwing away/misplaced/buat bungkus nasi lemak all the past year questions that I printed using my wobbly printer (sometimes in full colour so that it would look interesting enough for them to at least scribble some shit on it.

My other colleague was lamenting on how worried she is for SPM. Although I too, teach two Form Five classes and one Form 3 class, I could not bring myself to be worried. Blame it on all the bullshits that I had to take (and still have to face) before that made my thick skin even thicker and made my tears all the more expensive to be shed shamelessly around.

So what if they failed? Would that make me feel worried? Would that make me any less of a teacher? Would that mean my qualification is not good enough? Why the hell should I care when they could not care less of what happen with their future?

Come 26 and suddenly I question what I am doing. And I become more receptive to what people have to say about me. I feel less hurt when people criticize me for my body, my choice of life and the way I run things. I become calmer, ok I lied, I still curse when faced with idiot on wheels, but still I don't feel like screaming or lose my cool when some brat intentionally make my blood boil.

Maybe the old me has expired along with UOX. It troubles me that I have to top up my handphone every week if I want to continue using this Celcom number. However, it also opens up a room for new me. Sure, I could be impatient and impulsive sometimes (shoes and books, cannot look at them without buying them) but still I learn to be tolerant, to be not overly-sensitive and to take life as it comes and live it, not fret about what could have happened or what could have been in the future.

JUST BECAUSE

Just because I wear red lipstick

Does not mean I want you to stick it in

Just because I wear eyeliner

Does not mean you can give me cheesy one liner

Just because I wear high heels

Does not mean you can look at me like I’m your meals

Just because I replied your SMS

Does not mean we are serious

Just because I act friendly

Does not mean you can get all tingly

Just because I am a single, unmarried woman

Does not mean you are the man

Just because I am free

Does not mean I am for sale

Just because I am me

Does not mean you can be provocative

Does not mean you can be suggestive

Does not mean you can be manipulative

I am just being me

And it’s a lot more than you can handle.

THE TALE OF MICE AND CAT

There are just some people who can manage to save their own skin just by manipulating others through their conniving words and convincing puppy look that people just get their hearts melted every time these people ask them for something.

I had these kinds of people in the immediate surrounding which I am in.

One of these people manage to skip out on every work (well, not every, but most) that was entrusted to it (I use it so taht you cannot guess whether it’s a man or woman, nyehnyeh). It is a master of the universe when it comes to using words to make people believe that the work was actually easy and the order to do that work come from above (y’all know what I mean, when the cat is not around, the mouse come out to play; above is the cat, it and me are mouse). 

It can talk to you and all of the sudden without you’re realizing it, you’d agreed to do its job. Why? When? It just happened. And then later, you’ll be wondering, why did I agree to do its job? Why? It just happened. And now, you have to carry the burden that the cat gave to it but it gives to you.

Sounds familiar? That because a mouse likes that exists everywhere. You might have found it at one point of your life. And you might have been given its job for you to complete. And who gets the credit from the cat? That rotten mouse, of course...

And if you don’t do your job, this mouse would excitedly report it to the cat. But when it ‘delegates’ its jobs to other people, it takes all the credit. Life is such a fair competition, ain’t it?

Another mouse that I encountered is a mouse with divine help. It constantly fucked up but never got anything except for a mere slap on the wrist. It ‘forgot’ to do its job because it has so many jobs to handle (or so it thinks, albeit a bit delusional) although other mice got more important jobs that this little mouse has. It plays its cuteness (or it acts cute, but other mice find it repulsive, or maybe it’s just this one mouse). It flirts but blames it on other male mice when they pay a special interest to it, it lies but other mice keep on believing the deceit and it got lucky to not get punishment from the cat. It also cunningly avoided to be snapped by the great hidden paparazzi, ooopss that’s a line from Bruno. It also cunningly avoided to be monitored by other big, Persian cats that came to where it works and want to see how good this mouse is at catching cheese. And it seems like the most problematic mouse of them all as it blames its problems on other mice and the Great Maker. Nothing seems to be her fault.

Then, there is another mouse that is good at repeating what others said that it should have been a parrot in the life before. The problem is, unlike a parrot, this mouse like to add up what other said, to make the story more listenable (for a lack of better word) so that others would pay attention to it. This mouse causes other mice not to look at each other in the eyes. And also a great big ruckus ensued because of what this mouse parrots and adds up to other mice. It was and still is a great hullaballoo because of what this mouse had said to others but it seems to show no remorse. Maybe when its tail came off, maybe then it will regret what it said.

Such is the tale of the mice in this play land. The one who wears masks and knows its lingo can get by spreading vicious lies to save their own furry A-hole. While others who try to make a living, get their furry A-hole under fire. Life is dandy, isn’t it?

BITTER PETER

Peter, Peter
Why so bitter?

Peter, Peter
Why hide those laughter?

Peter, Peter
Come closer

Peter, Peter
Want a biscuit or chocolate?

Peter, Peter
To cover up those cut and bruises

Peter, Peter
Let me hold you
Then release you
So you can crawl back up
Only to be pushed away again

Peter, Peter
How do you get to be so strong?
How do you get to be so brave?
How do you get to be a hero?

Peter, Peter
Sleep safe and sound tonight
For no-one can hurt you tonight
You'll be in the arms of God tonight
Kiss us goodbye and let the light shine over you tonight.

RIP Baby P (01032006-030807)

BACK UP

Based in the Facebook comments after the status that I posted, a lot of people have been experiencing bullshit at work lately.

Is it because we are A.W.E.S.O.M.E TESLian teachers that everything we do, say, wear, think will be the topic of interest at work?

Or is it because the not so awesome others are having difficulty matching up to our A.W.E.S.O.M.E.N.E.S.S level that they have to succumb to bring us down with petty complaints and bitch remarks?

I know we live in a society and sometimes we have to be fake ass, ass-kisser, subservient, docile and yes to everything kind of person just to satisfy certain needs of people we don't like for the reason we don't fathom with no advantages whatsoever to us.

My first year of teaching, I had to suck it when my year end holidays was totally ruined by invigilating SPM. Not because my name was up but because I had to replace someone else.

My second year of teaching, I had to suck it too when my year end holidays was totally ruined by marking SPM papers. But at least this time, it's my choice and I must say, the moolah was the only reason I accepted the offer.

This year, I would most possibly mark both PMR and SPM papers. People no more pass their work or courses to me (as we have a new teacher and now she's the favourite person to dump all the work and courses and invigilating to) because I matured up a bit and learn to say NAY.

However, yesterday, during the meeting for the year end dinner, I commented something on someone else. During the year end dinner in 2010 (my first year of teaching), the table I was seated at only was joined by two cleaners at my school. They conquered the whole table and left nothing to be desired after their gastronomical need was satiated. So this year, I said to the Principal that why not put 'pekerja' at one table and teachers at other tables? I ain't gonna waste my RM45 just to eat salad since the lemon chicken is already digested. There was one 'kakitangan' in the meeting that quickly transfer the virus so much so that the whole office 'kaki' dan 'tangan' threatened not to go to this year end dinner.

How about I just back off and all of you enjoy yourself. Don't let the dinner be spoiled because of me.

Next year, Please Elect Someone Worthy And Favourable To Your Liking to be in the commitee.

Because I sure as hell do not have the time nor the effort to tolerate this.

If what I said was wrong, then I am sorry from the deepest corner of my heart.

But if what I said clearly did not make any reference to you, then you'll deal with it on your own terms.

Btw, just now, my mom bagi petua supaya org kesian tgk muka kita.
Well mom, I don't need pity from others. I just need maturity and respect. That's all.

KASIH SAYANG SEROANG KAKAK KEPADA ADIKNYA

Kereta ni sama mahal dengan kereta kakaknya. Monthly installment pun sama.