The hard truth
The latest season of American Idol has started again. As usual, they begin with a whole saga of auditions at every corner of the land where anything is possible. These episodes to me might be slightly more entertaining compared to the serious stuffs later because now, you get to watch, just how far someone would go to reach out for fame and glory.
Then there are also the blood curdling, earth shattering, cringing moments when someone has to face the hard, hard truth in front of national television where Simon says “You can’t sing!”
These hopeful participants look shocked! Surprised! Stunted! And the first thing they say is usually, “But everyone around me tell me I can sing!” or “Everyone tells me I sound like Brian McKnight/Mariah Carey/Whitney Houston/Josh Groban…” At times like these, you wonder, just how far some people would go to protect their loved ones from the hard, hard truth.
Whenever I watch scenes like these on TV, I twist the pillows I was hugging into little croissants. Then I think to myself. It is obvious this guy cannot sing so WHY did his family or friends delude him SO MUCH that he is able to confidently stand in front of the camera and say that he is absofuckinglutely sure that he will be the next American Idol?
American Idol has been around for quite a while now. In the last season, we’ve seen Fantasia win and she was a fabulous singer. Then I wonder, didn’t these hopeful participants watch any part of the last season? Are they so entrapped in their own world that when they sing, the voice they hear is different? Ofcourse it also doesn’t help when family members or friends play along with it because they are deluding themselves into thinking that they are protecting him/her from the hard truth.
Putting love aside, I do believe that sometimes we have to be a little bad to grow a little good. The truth will always find a way out to the surface, and sometimes it is on national television…
Racing with an egg
Being in a relationship is like running a race carrying an egg with a spoon. It’s all about balancing something very fragile at every moment of the time.
Don’t call him too often in case you’re not giving him enough space to breath. However, you have to call him once in a while to remind him you still exist. Don’t let him think you’d shrivel up and die a horrible death if he leaves you. Yet let him know enough to feel that he is indeed very important to you. Care for him enough so that he doesn’t try to get TLC somewhere else. But yet don’t pamper him too much in case he takes you for granted. Talk about things whenever there’s a dark cloud hovering above but yet not so often that he thinks you’re an unstable loony on the run. Trust him enough to have a healthy relationship and yet not so much that you become ignorant. Love him enough to be happy when you are together and yet not so much in case you get hurt in the future if things don’t work out. And the list goes on....
I believe most couples go through this egg race whether they like it or not. Some put more effort into it and some less. The ones who invest more effort into it are usually deemed as the one who loves the other party more. The ones who invest less effort, either loves less or has done it so much, it’s become a norm.
Of course over time, some people get so tired that they give up the race and abandon their eggs. Some ends with the egg safely placed back into the bucket, some ends with the eggs crashing to the ground. Some other couple, determined to make it work, continues their persistence till one day, all these balancing acts requires no more effort and becomes a part of life.
Therefore at the end of the day, doesn’t it boil down to how much you want it to work?
Wanted: Adventure
When i was young, i read a lot of fairy tales and watched 'The Fairy Tale's Theatre' on tv on a daily basis. If it wasn't the airing of a new fairy tale on tv, it was watching over and over again, the recorded version. Thanks to Enid Blyton, 'The Faraway Tree' taught me to believe that there are different worlds out there. And thanks to the 'Famous Five' and 'Secret 7', life can be a big adventure everyday. Anne of Green Gables taught me to imagine and fantasize and when i grew older, Judith McNaught told me that love is possible.
So here i am, a totally ordinary girl approaching her 30s going through a totally mundane day to day life. Metria and i were driving back from lunch along the lonely roads of Cyberjaya today. We wondered, 'Why doesn't Big foot decide to trample past Cyberjaya right now and leave a set of mysterious footprints so that we can all be excited and talk, debate and gossip about it for the rest of the day?" or even better, he walks past right now in front of us, we can try to outdrive/outrun/outwit the monster. After that, we go home and sing a song in Elven language about our 'grand' adventure!
Im starting to feel that my mundane day to day life is suffocating my over imaginative mind. Why can't i be 'Taken' or have an alien sighting in the heart of Cyberjaya? Why can't i walk past a florist then have a guy running up to me with a bunch of flowers because i smell like 'Envy Gucci'? Why can't i be playing my violin one late night at the top of some hill and chance upon the man of my dreams? Why can't my mother or some relative suddenly hand me a ring one day and tell me i have to journey to a strange land of Mordor to dispose of it? I could also one day accidentally decipher some codes that leads me to an adventure of discovering the holy grail.
Or fine, at least one small puppy can turn up at my doorstep uninvited, right? When i dive, i should be able to at least see someting slightly larger than the ones we see at aquariums, right? Or my birds can learn to say a word or two. I checked on the internet that these birds ARE capable of speech, you know. Why don't they utter a single recognisable word? At least learn to say, "NARRRRLING!".. since they probably hear that most.
What happened to all our childish expectations of life? The last time i complained about this, there was a semi nationwide blackout. This time, i hope something wild happens again. Wish me luck!
Expectations
Isn’t it amazing sometimes what expectations can do to us?
When it is low, coming home from work at 10pm is lucky, bringing home a piece of cake with him is a pleasant surprise, having tv dinner together is fun and most of all, being called his gal is a privilege.
When it is high, a normal boyfriend seems unthoughtful, a normal meal appears bland, a fashionable bag as a present seems impractical and a candlelight dinner appears cliché.
Then the ultimate disaster strikes when couples don’t share the same expectations. One says the surprise is a dinner! The other says dinner after work is a surprise? The loooong awaited and anticipated surprise?
I now realize that having my expectations managed is indeed very important. I do know that there is nothing wrong with dinner after work. BUT the same ‘dinner after work’ being positioned as the month long anticipated surprise might be a lil’ bit too cruel for the eager anticipant.
So what happens when expectations are not managed properly? The eager anticipant feels guilty for feeling disappointed while the surprise maker feels bad for disappointing the eager anticipant. But at the end of the day, none is to blame. Shit happens, I guess. But it’s not all downhill from here…
From now on, the eager anticipant lowers her expectations. When surprise maker says there’s a surprise in store, Eager anticipant thinks it’s just a dinner like that last time so anything better than that is fantabulous. And the surprise maker, learning from this experience that dinner after work is not exactly a surprise to the eager anticipant, might start thinking up some fireworks the next time.
Missing the Limo
In the arena of my love life, lack of self confidence must have caused me to miss quite some opportunities. Sometimes, I miss buses, sometimes I miss trains. Once in a while, even chauffeur driven limousines. In my long course of being obsessed with the fact that I definitely have more serious defects compared to other normal girls, I have let pass a lot of men in my life I thought were gems. One of them was Dr.
Dr came across to me as one of the most genuine person I have ever met… or never met. It is weird I would say that but well, we met on the internet but we never met in real life.
Again, some computer parked in some cold server room somewhere thought we were compatible so we started off emailing. Dr. was 9 years my senior but it was amazing how well we got along. It was really fun mailing him as he would crack the most original and funniest joke that leaves me smiling even thinking about it later. After a while, we also started to chat on the phone. Dr has a sexy booming voice that could put some local DJs to shame. I remember calling him a couple of times when I was at my lowest, most of them caused by work pressure. Bimbos and multinational organizations sometimes have their personal conflicts. And maybe it was because of the age difference, most of the time before I could even finish my story, Dr. saw where the problem was and quickly gave me a few pointers on what to do, how to improve and threw in some humour, just to kill the tears. So there I have in front of me, Dr = Perfect. He was nice, funny, down to earth, a doctor and most of all, he’s single!
But no matter how well we got along, we never met each other in real life. Dr tried all tricks he could think to persuade me into meeting up with him. But me, being guilty of sometimes having the confidence of a dim wit, never dared to take the bold move. Dr. was my close friend for almost 3 years. He started off single for a long time and then the major turn of event between us happened when he met his wife.
The day he and his wife got registered, he wrote me a mail to tell me that the time has come for him to let whatever it is we have between us go. I felt very sad losing a person who has played such an important role in my life in the past few years go but who else was there to blame but myself? If only I had the confidence to meet him. In a way, maybe I was afraid I was not good enough for him and I was too afraid to lose, therefore, was too afraid to confront it or to give it a real chance. I was afraid of being hurt. Or maybe, it was just not meant to be.
Self confidence really does play a big role in our lives. And learning from my own story, I tried my best never to let self confidence come in the way ever again. Bimbotic or not, my self confidence stays. Ugly or not, my courage remains. Never will I stand on the pavement and watch another limousine drive offer pass on. Which is why, I’m hanging on to Narrrling’s limo and I hope he too enjoys the ride. ;)
World peace
Im afraid my worst date has got to do with world peace. We met on a blind date because some computer thought we were compatible and because I just broke up and was eager to take my attention off it. In other words, I was lonely and desperate and wanted some attention.
Unlike metria’s date, mine was the clean cut, spectacle wearing, normal looking guy that without your lenses, you can even count in as cute. We started off perfectly normal, getting to know each other, asking polite questions, answering from time to time with a tinge of humour. In any romance movie, this is how good things start.. Or as Barbara Streisand sings in “I finally found someone”, it started over coffee.. Well, mine started at coffee but somehow ended when we decided to order for dinner.
I thought of being nice and recommended the chef’s choice to him, the steak. He asked me, “Is that beef?”.
That was how it all started. He went on to explain his religious background and that he WAS a serious follower of his religion and God. To that, I said I totally understand and I was not going to judge him or runaway because he didn’t favor cows for chows. Unfortunately, the conversation on religion did not stop there. He was on a roll. He started explaining to me why and how he became so religious.
Apparently, just earlier on, he was possessed by something of the 4th dimension, yeah a female ghost. How did his family know he was possessed? One day, he came home from work and took a looooong nap. He never woke up for days until his mother finally got worried. Instead of sending him to the doctor, ofcourse, a medium was asked for. And what does the medium say? Ofcourse, he was possessed by a ghost. So the ‘Exorcist’ episode took place right here itself in Petaling Jaya.
There we sat in the middle of the quiet restaurant busy with other patrons, my dear date would disguise his voice pretending to be the spirit and SHOUTED at his mom and sometimes he pretended to be the medium that ORDERED the ghost out of his body, along with all sound effects imaginable. I must say, that night was truly sensational. Did I tell you that he was possessed twice? Yep, the 2nd time, he was made the follower of the 4 faced Buddha and was taught to go into trance. And till today, sometimes the 4 faced Buddha would possess him at random times. Upon hearing that, I quickly started to pray to whichever God possible to stop the 4 faced Buddha from possessing him now. The last trophy grabbing piece was ofcourse, that ever since his two times Exorcist experiences, now, he is totally freed. His soul goes to heaven every year for 2 weeks to pray for world peace with the rest of the Heavenly Gods. I felt obliged to thank him.
When I left home earlier for the date, I thought if I was lucky, I might have a pleasant night out of a get-to-know-you session. What I didn’t expect was a night of Korean, Japanese, Thai and Chinese horror movies bundled together in the package of a first date in a chic little restaurant in the heart of town. I must say, of all first dates. This guy gets the trophy for telling all the ‘right’ stories and saying the ‘right’ things. If you think u've been on bad dates, well, read my story again. I think i invented them.
Journey towards lavender valley
The journey of a thousand miles begin with one step. And yes, walking down this road, we all want to know how the road ahead looks like. Whether it will be one smooth long, boring road or a rocky road that constantly needs new acrobatic skills acquired along the way in order to survive. Or is it going to be everyone’s dream, the road down the breezy lavender valley?
Out of curiosity and bimbosity, I recently went to a fortune teller to find out. I decided since this old man could tell that metria was getting married soon, he might tell me something interesting too. After a short Q & A about my date, time and place of birth, some computer clicks, 5 minutes of noisy printing, my lifestory was lying before me in a few pieces of A4 white paper.
The scrawny old man suddenly started majestically announcing my lifestory with a deafening booming loud voice, “MIKI C, BORN ON THE 6th OF SEPTEMBER 1976, in KUALA LUMPUR is a …….” So the story started and I listened.
And this is what I learned. In all fortunes, there is always an ‘except’. Everything is good except… Your marriage will be happy except…. . EXCEPT.. yes, always expect an ‘except’ when your fortune is being told. And for me, except what? My love life, ofcourse. I who can give Carrie Bradshaw and Bridget Jones a run for the title of who has the most failed relationships.
They came in all shapes and sizes. Some boosted my ego, some killed them. One begged me to marry him, while another thought my nose was too flat. One tried to impress me by telling me about his soul going to heaven every year to pray for world peace with the rest of the heavenly Gods while another thought I was just too fat. One tried to impress me with money while another couldn’t commit. One had my heart for years but never appreciated it while another was admitted to the mental hospital after we broke up. Some shouted at me in public while some never dared to tell me they loved me. When it comes to the opposite sex, I think I must have seen it all.
I grew up reading romance novels and I have always believed in this thing called love. I believe it being the one magical thing that makes the world go round and is also the thing that keeps us human beings together, alive and running. Which is why, my search for love in the last 10 years has been truly, truly disappointing. At bad times, I told myself, “Just wait, someday, someone will come and make my wait worthwhile”… I believe in happy endings because I simply want to believe in them.
Then the fortune teller said the magic words. He told me that my roller coaster romance will end in January 2005. After that, the journey down lavender garden will finally begin. Again, I wanted to believe this not because I am superstitious but simply because I want to believe. Just like metria, I am also counting down the days. I’d like to tell myself, that maybe, just maybe, I’ve found a man that’s here to stay.. ;)
Magic Spell
Although I am still not very certain, I might have recruited a new member into the Bimbo’s club last night. Being very different from my previous recruits, this one is not only a true blonde but also comes with the whole package, blue eyes, fair milky skin and all. I was thinking this morning as I was driving to work, finally I can pride myself for attracting someone with some real resemblance of the ultimate bimbo. Except… this one is a ‘himbo’.
Yes, he is no other than the love of my life, my ‘Narrrling’, my localized version of a Dutchman. The one man I gaze at every night with starry eyes while secretly praying he won’t return my favor with wandering eyes.
I guess we all don’t know how much the phrase, “shorlisted for a tv commercial” can do to us. Narrrling, once the serious, kick-ass, local country manager then marketing manager for a multinational IT organization, has overnight, self-transformed into a male bimbo blonde who thinks that at the age of 35, he can kickstart his alter ego dream career in the modeling world.
Recently a friend wrote to me, asking if I knew any Caucasian male divers who might be interested in starring in a local energy drink commercial. The first thought that came to my mind was ofcourse, ‘Narrrling’. I thought rationally to myself, “If he held his breath and sucked in real hard during the photo shoots, he might just be able to bluff his way through and pass himself off as tv commercial star material.”
When I told Narrrling, although at first a bit hesitant, he was suddenly reminded of how when he was young, his mother use to tell him how good looking he is. Yeah, I told him. Always trust your mother when she says you’re a handsome young chap. So without giving him more time to think, I quickly clicked away some photos to the ad agency.
Yesterday, our mailbox opened up to a magic spell. A spell so powerful that last night while lying in bed, we talked about making him the next ‘Manhunt 2005’, we talked about him leaving the cruel corporate world and joining the line with people like Brad Kroenig of Fendi, or Harry Kinkead of DNA. He even struck some sulky sexy poses in his Calvin Klein boxer shorts for me to exhibit his long hidden talent and ofcourse, those long milky fair legs.
Thinking about it this morning, it is funny how certain turn of events in our lives can change us. Narrrling was suddenly transformed from a kickass manager to a pouty blonde bimbo. Maybe like Narrrling, we all have a bimbotic side to us that we keep well hidden in the secret chest. And although I have a feeling my Narrrling might not quite make it as the next Manhunt, nor the next successor of Harry Kinkead, he might now learn something new about himself or was it his ‘himbo-tic’ self?
The Bimbo's Club
Why do we call ourselves “The bimbos”? I don't think anyone of us would ever dye our hair blonde. Nor will we ever admit that we're stupid to those who matters. We only act stupid when we’re stopped by a traffic police. We seem to have pretty normal IQ, although nowadays we'd like to be recognized as having higher EQ than IQ. So what's this about calling ourselves a bunch of bimbos? Well, here's the story.
Do you remember history class back in school? We read about great warriors of the past, the glamorous days of Acheh(which by the way was recently wiped out by a HUGE tatami.. oopss.. i meant tsunami), the brave attack of the Dutch, the English..etc.. and ofcourse, we read about one of our favourite guys in history, how Nabi Muhammad, sitting in a cave somehow and somehow received his first 'wahyu' bestowed straight from Heaven.
I was sitting in a car some time ago, caught in a jam, on the way to a client’s office. In the midst of trying to remember the list of things I needed to say when I see the client later, this thought(similar to a wahyu) suddenly jumped into my head. Though maybe it didn’t come straight from heaven this time, the thought suddenly made me realize what I wanted in life, and it was the ultimate enlightenment experience.
I wanted to be a bimbo and I shall work towards it. If you open your eyes, you will notice that while you are licking envelopes, signing deals, giving sales pitches, or trying desperately to get your team members to work with each other, at the same time, the ultimate bimbo is sipping pina colada by the pool, filing her nails staring into space, dreaming of what color curtains she should buy next. The ultimate bimbos have the life all girls dream of. Going for high teas once in a while, only to binge on the salads and fruits. And if you ooopss.. happen to over eat and gained a couple of pounds.. no problem… there is always the cold wraps from Marie Claire or the electrifying experience of an ultrasound treatment by Unisense. The ultimate bimbo only needs to worry about what to wear that day and not whether the project is making money or if the client likes your work. Oooo.. what a life.
So from that day onwards, I’ve decided to pass on these ultimate bimbo philosophies. You’ll be surprised, along the way, I’ve met so many bimbo potentials whom all agreed with me. Why be dragon lady and be called the toughest bitch of the entire milky way when you can be a lady of leisure, referred to as the darling of an angel?
Then you’ll ask me, how did bimbos get there in the first place? Maybe they became a dragon lady some time ago to be where they are today. Yeah, Im sure some bimbos were pure lucky, while the others have gone a long way to be where they are today. Which is why I decided to start this club because I know, no matter how tough we are on the surface, at the end of the day, we all want to be the ultimate bimbo, the lady of leisure, the darling of an angel.. If you are at the top of the ladder, playing The Sims with 150 of your employees everyday, don’t you get tired and just wish you were in some massage parlour, breathing in some aromatheraphy from Tuvalu, living the life of the ultimate bimbo? So stop for a while and relax, ladies.. brace yourselves and start your journey towards the sisterhood of bimboship..
