Gone Baby Gone
Great Movie Great...
Yesterday, I saw THE GREATEST MOVIE EVER. The greatest movie ever...ever...ever...
Oh man, what a show... Just when I thought the show is about to end and I was almost getting ready to get up and go, suddenly BOOM! I was suprised with a twist that totally left my mouth open. After a while, I thought, ok, NOW the show is going to end and I got ready to get up again... And BOOM! Another twist. Then Boom! Boom! Boom! A twist within a twist! And they kept coming....
The characters in the movie has got such depths.. and excellent acting! And don't even get me started on the plot! Cohen brothers should move aside for the Affleck brothers. It's the type of movie that leaves you talking about it for a long time after it's over. Narrrling and I were discussing about it endlessly yesterday,
"What would you have done in that situation? Do you pity that guy? Do you think he should have killed him?" Today i logged on to imdb.com to browse through the forum about this movie and read what everyone else is saying about it. Looks like everyone is debating about it as well.
Many parts of the show, I felt like I was almost choking with emotion but yet, it's not even a sad scene. Nobody was dying on screen. The characters were just having a very intense conversation that kinda makes you feel so overwhelmed. Next to me, I could hear some Malay chap sobbing away. It's just... complicated... And the excessive censorship did not even bother Narrrling this time. As usual, all the swear words and gory scenes were cut out in a non too graceful a la Malaysian cinema way but I think we must have gotten too engrossed in the story to notice.
Imdb gave it an 8.0. I totally agree with the rating. When i saw the title,
"Gone Baby Gone" for the first time, I thought,
"Oh no, another one of those movies."... but when I saw IMDB giving it an 8.0 with 25 thousand votes, I thought there must be something to it. And boy am I glad I didn't miss this one...
I've heard a lot about
'No Country for Old Men' by the Cohen brothers. I'll try to go watch it but from what i am hearing,
'Gone Baby Gone' is better. But damn!
'No Country for Old Men' got 8.5 with 84 thousand votes! How do you beat that?
Are you on Facebook?
"Why are you not on Facebook?" I hear this question on a daily basis from Narrrling, from friends, from colleagues and now even my own sister the housewife is on Facebook. Narrrling says,
"Facebook is soooo you yeah"... So me? What is it about Facebook that my hubby wants me to be on it so bad?
I asked him,
"You sure you want your wife to be on facebook? I'm going to use the nick, Hentai Queen and I'll link you in as my husband. You sure you don't mind?"Instead of looking terrified, Narrrling said,
"Sure! Go ahead!" Wow.. this facebook is really something... The image conscious Narrrling doesn't even mind being linked to a Hentai Queen. What is the world coming to?
I logged onto Narrrling's account and started exploring and after a few minutes, I went crazy on it... I started searching for old friends, old boyfriends, old enemies, old relatives, old teachers, old tution mates, old neighbours, old men, old women.. When I was done, I moved on to Narrling's ex girlfriends, ex friends, ex colleagues, ex neighbour.. etc.... When I find them, I also find out where they're working, who their friends are, what they wore to a party, what their friends say about them, where they got virtually poked, kissed, hugged, slapped.... You pretty much get to size a person up from their facebook profile alone.
Then I moved on to searching for my boss and boss's boss and boss's boss's boss... and found it real strange seeing the normally serious looking people in my company getting snow balled and batman kissed and virtual yoga-ed... on facebook. I find it a bit.... emasculating.... Not forgetting that some colleagues we normally call by some Chinese names like Ong or Ah Chan or Ravendran, suddenly becoming Gary or Stefano or Raven... ooo... fancy
The next day I logged onto Narrrling's account again and posted some photos of Mini-N resulting in Narrrling protesting because he said all his colleagues will think that he's posting up photos of his baby on facebook during office hours. See, first flaw of Facebook breaking through. Your boss and colleagues knows exactly when you're wasting away precious office hours. Gone are the times when putting up a serious face in front of the computer is good enough.
Then I found my angel faced cousin on facebook and I was so suprised with what I saw in her profile. I know she recently broke up with her boyfriend but I didn't know she was THAT aggresively looking out. The photos she posted up were mainly photos of herself... In this dress and that dress, in this pose and that pose, in this changing room trying on a hot dress, in that room getting ready for a photo shoot ... It was a lot of self-advertisements. Photos of flowers she got on Valentine's day, her valentine dinner's meal, the presents she got...etc... She definitely needs a lesson or two from me when it comes to hooking up men from the internet.. If I was on Facebook and I was looking to bag a decent and nice husband, I'd put photos of myself helping out in an orphanage, offering chinese new year goodies to old folks, playing with children in a playground, bathing little puppies... and NOT pictures of myself lying in a suggestive pose on a bed on Valentine's night. But she looks hot, no doubts.
Then there are guy friends who perpetually only seem to only have ladies in their facebook and all photos published by himself are photos of himself surrounded by 20 formula one chics, photos of him dancing with 20 wild babes in a club, photos of him receiving an award on stage, photos of him getting a thumbs up from somebody, photos of his car, his house, his own office room... Sometimes people can see beyond what's shown and read underlying messages too and photos like these just says too much too loudly, don't you think? Next time put some photos of yourself taking little children to the zoo, man.
Anyway, having said all that, I'm just a boring girl turning auntie who is sour of everyone getting in touch with everyone else via one of those winks and pokes. Honestly, I do like checking out what this person and that person is up to every now and then but I'd prefer not to share too much of myself on it. I'm not at all a very private person and yet I find facebook a bit too intrusive. Strange that I'm the only person in the world who thinks so.
Post Labor: Confinement
I’m just a week away from going back to work, so the coming few days marks the very very end of my maternity leave, probably the only long break I’ll ever take from work till I reach 65.. And it wasn’t even fun.
I was away from work for 3 months since I delivered Mini-N. It wasn’t really a holiday of roses and wine because in the first month I was plagued by some hormonal changes that locked me into depression. I cried a lot especially in the evenings without really knowing why. One evening Narrrling asked me why I was crying and I just said,
“It’s..It’s…the ginger smell!”
It didn’t help also that Narrrling had to travel for work to the US for 10 days leaving me alone at home, confined together with the confinement lady who wasn’t exactly my best friend. Yes, she was an excellent cook who could whip up the best meals I’ve tasted for years but I HATED the way she handled Mini-N and HATED the way she’s on my back the whole time about this confinement bullshit and that confinement bullshit, which I waved off from the first day of meeting her. I told her,
“Focus on the baby. He’s most important.”
Then she goes about to force feed Mini-N till he vomits. Drowsy from being over-stuffed with milk, she puts him back to bed and sets herself on my back again about wearing shoes, wearing socks, eating this miracle Chinese herb pill and that anti-wind herb pill. In my confinement month, the word, “wind” drove me mad. She didn’t allow me to drink plain water and I had to drink some longan water that was boiling hot at all times. Look, I don’t mind drinking that longan crap, but why can’t I drink water?? The more she was on my back, the more I ignored her. I drank water blatantly in front of her. I refused to wear the shoes and socks she kept harping about and I took once the Chinese anti-wind rubbish and refused to take them again. I completely dismissed her talks about ‘wind’ and ‘wind’ and ‘wind’.
I cried every night from depression. I felt ugly, weak, painful (where the wound is) and on top of that, I had to have someone trying to instill in me all these rules and boundaries in my own home. My house smelled like a huge pot of ginger and looked like a refugee camp with clothes hanging everywhere to dry and my shower smelled like pee. She probably pees as she showers. Poor Narrrling had to come over to my room to wash the toilet numerous times because the smell of pee was simply intolerable.
I was also extremely worried about Mini-N. He had colic and was making a lot of noise at night from discomfort. In my condition, it can be excruciatingly painful to get up from bed but I did that several times each night to comfort him, because the confinement lady was deep in her slumberland and Mini-N was wailing and vomiting milk the whole night, thanks to her 3 hourly overfeeding. If ever one of his wailing wakes her up, she translates it as he’s hungry and stuffs another bottle into his mouth. Nothing I say seem to change her. Bloody hell, Mini-N was only 4 days old and she was feeding him 3oz of milk every 3 hours. Some babies drink 1oz until they’re 2 months old!!
What stays most vivid in my memory was one night after getting out of bed too many times to comfort and clean Mini-N, I was lying in bed looking at him. And right there before my eyes, he shot a foot high of milk out of his mouth. One side of his cheek was completely washed in milk. I knew I had to get up to clean him but my lower abdomen was just so painful that I couldn’t bring myself to get up. I called out to the confinement lady twice but she was snoring so loud she couldn’t hear me. So I lied there, all the while looking at Mini-N with more and more milk regurgitated down one side of his face, trying to gather my strength to get up and while doing that, I cried. I cried, I cried and I cried. I wasn’t sure if it was out of pain, out of frustration or out of worry for Mini-N.
I use to think it’s not that tough being a mother, just make sure your baby eats and poops and sleeps. I was prepared for the late nights, I was prepared for the hard work, but what I wasn’t prepared for was the weak state I was in and the worry for my child. I was worried sick on the first month after delivering Mini-N because he was vomiting milk constantly and would wail out with discomfort every night during sleep. He does that the whole night long. Yes, the whole night long so you can imagine how much sleep I got in the first month. The confinement lady told me it’s normal, she’s taken care of other babies who makes funny sounds as well. She said he’s just stretching and that’s suppose to be a good thing. After that night I watched him shoot out the milk through his mouth, I told her the next day,
“NO, it’s NOT normal. We’re going to see a doctor”.
Turn up the volume to hear Mini-N and tell me if you think that's normal.
The doctor confirmed that Mini-N has colic and prescribed medication. At some point, the confinement lady started blaming me for it. She said Mini-N has wind in his stomach and it’s because I didn’t do all the things she told me to. My wind was passed to Mini-N through my breast milk. Oh, she’s so good at this game.
All these contributed to my post-labor blues on my confinement month. What a wreck I was. I looked at myself in the mirror and hated the person who was looking back at me. Let’s put it this way. On the day I delivered Mini-N, the weighing scale told me I put on 27.7kg in this whole pregnancy. Beng visited me and was shocked at my appearance. He told me much later that he almost couldn’t recognize me. In his own brutish words much later, he said,
“Ugly was the only word to describe you.”
My thoughts then was, this whole pregnancy has ruined my body. I am fat, I have a big gash on my lower abdomen that hurt like hell, I have stretch marks all over it, I had massive backaches still, I have asthma still and I was swollen all over still, a chunk of my memory have gotten lost, like I find it hard to remember a lot of things, at loss with certain words, names….
Man.. that month was tough. When Narrrling was around, we ignored the confinement lady and he took me out to the movies to make me feel better. I remember we watched “Stardust” in One Utama about 2 weeks after delivering. I remember I walked very slowly from the car park to the cinema and back before and after the movie as to not aggravate my wound. That was how desperate I was for something to cheer me up. Sometimes when the confinement lady was not looking, Narrrling would sneak me a nice drink like a pack of ribena, a coca-cola, a glass of orange juice. Basically, we were thieves in our own house.
Looking back now in restrospect, I think we made one major mistake. If we didn’t believe in all these confinement wind bullshit, we should never have hired a confinement lady. What we needed was a helper who would do as we tell them. That’s lesson No.1 for the future if I EVER intend to have another child. At this point, I am thinking not. It’s a miracle that my asthma didn’t kill me this time around.
The moment the confinement lady was out of the door, I launched myself straight into action. I had my hair done, I had eyebrow embroidery, I went for facial, I had eyelash extensions, I even signed myself up for a slimming treatment. So far, I’ve miraculously lost 18 out of the 27 kgs I gained. Now the slimming treatments deserve another whole story by itself. I never use to believe in these treatments until I tried them myself. They work like a miracle, at least the one I went to. I think I look ok again. Ofcourse, I’m still seriously overweight but at least it’s not that bad that my friends can’t recognize me.
And Mini-N, after 7 weeks of wailing through the night, he finally stopped. Oh, thank GOD!! And he doesn’t vomit milk anymore. When I say vomit, I mean shooting milk out of his mouth. Sometimes he still regurgitates a bit of milk but that’s normal. He’s a healthy and happy boy now. At 2 months plus now, he’s just learned to smile and has started talking back recently with coos and goos. He also has a natural flair for posing for photos.
For those who believes in confinement, they’ll read this blog and say, “Girl, you might think you’re mighty strong now but when you grow old you’ll suffer for not listening to your confinement lady. All the pains caused by the lack of confinement care will only surface when you grow old.”
Yeah, when I get a backache, I wonder if it’s because I didn’t listen to the confinement lady. When I sneeze, I wonder if it’s because I didn’t listen to the confinement lady. When my poop is too soft, I also wonder if it’s because I didn’t listen to the confinement lady.
To me, this whole confinement thing is like a religion. It’s up to you whether you believe it or not. It could be true or it could be self-fulfilled prophecies. It’s not been proven, nobody knows if washing your hair really gets wind into your head, nobody knows if walking without socks on cold marble will get wind into your feet, yet people follow it, for the fear of being punished later in life…. It’s just like a religion…
Look like Who?
You notice when somebody has a baby, the first thing the friends or relatives try to point out is whom the baby looks like? Whether it’s the father or the mother or the grandmother, or the mother’s brother..etc… In our case, since Mini-N is born out of mix parentage of asian and caucasian, people are even more keen to point that out, even strangers in the streets walking by, you can hear them commenting,
“Eh, faster come and see. Mix baby! Wah, this one look more like ang-mo”.With Mini-N, it was all quite interesting. When he was born and was a few minutes old, Narrrling took this picture of him and sent it out to friends and relatives around the world. The responses that came back was,
“Wah, Mini-N looks like mummy!”
Then I overheard my dad on the phone talking to my sis saying,
“Mini-N ah, look like Miki-C. Mouth big big, nose big big, face big big…” Errmm.. I was on epidural and all that, but I wasn’t so blurr that I’d find those complimenting. Beng, my best friend, being fashionably gay and all that, as expected was always brutally blunt with it. He said,
“Honestly ah, your Mini-N look like an alien monster lar. I think look like you lar.”Hallloooo?... Since when did I start looking like a monster? ALIEN MONSTER some more, ok..
In laws who saw the photo in the Netherlands, also said in unison,
“Look like Miki-C”Then 2 months passed by and now, Mini-N looks like this.
Suddenly, now people say he looks like daddy?
“Wah so cute, the skin soooo fair, the eyes so nice. This one definitely look like daddy..”Unfair! When Mini-N looks like alien monster, he looks like me, when Mini-N look cute and all that, he looks like daddy. Apalar!!
Labor
29th October 2007, 7.00am, Narrrling and I walked hand-in-hand into SJMC to have our lives altered forever. Not knowing what to really expect and what will happen, I put up a brave front, occasionally cracking a lame joke here and there as we took the elevator up to the 4th floor.
We were put up in one of those labor wards, the anaethesian came in and did his thing and before I knew it, I was lying in bed waiting for it to happen. The doctor came in and checked me and said I already had a 3cm dilation. The plan was that I was put on epidural and then induced. Since I had such a good start and knowing that the doctor has got clinic duties at 2pm, I was expecting to have my baby out by noon. Ah, such confidence I had.
So the wait started. The nurse would come in every hour to check my dilations. Since I was on the epidural, I didn't feel any pain so the beginning of my labor experience started off as one boring wait. At some point, Narrrling whipped out 2 copies of his MBA assignment and we started going through it.
"Wah this part must change! Doesn't quite connect to the previous paragraph"
"Apa Ni! This word wrong spelling lar."
"Eh, how come this word is spelt as socialise here but socialize there? Better standartise it ok!"
The nurse came in to check on my dilations a couple of times, and after about 3 hours, I was only 4 cm dilated. Don't forget, I came in already with 3cms of dilations. The nurse came in, saw us and asked, "What are you doing?"
We gave her a sheepish smile, "Narrrling's MBA assignment.. heehee"..
Then at some point, we finished the assignment. I got bored again, I whipped out my handphone and sms-ed Beng. "Eh, I'm giving birth now you know. Doctor ask me to put my phone away but since we so best fren, nevermind lar.. I sms you ok?"
Beng took this as a permission to forward my message to the whole world saying, "Miki-C is in labor now. Still got mood to talk cock with me so i guess she's ok lah!"
So Beng and I started sms-ing.
"What are you doing now?"
"Waiting for my dilations to reach 10cm. I've been waiting already for 3 hours ok. Now still 4.5cm"
"How come your dilations so slow? What you doing now?"
"I'm watching James Bond movie on Astro now. Maybe the excitement of the show is slowing down my dilations"
With this, Beng sent out another bout of messages to my friends saying that I'm watching a James Bond movie during labor.
"And now, what you doing?"
"Putting make up.. Nothing to do lar.."
The nurse, coming in on the 5th hour, told me that my dilations has only reached 5cms, which means that in the last 5 hours, I've only dilated 2 cm. Seeing what a good time I was having, she decreased the dosage of my epidural, saying that my legs were getting a bit too numb. OK... and THAT's when it all started to hurt. Beng sent me a follow up sms and I replied with some profanities.
He said, "Ok, now you must be in REAL labor."
On the 6th hour, the doctor came in and checked me. Still 5cms of dilations and since the progress was soooo slow, the doctor told me that we might have to consider an emergency caesarian. The baby's been trying very hard to come out and the top of his head's a bit swollen cos he's been pushing very hard through that feeble 5cms of dilations. Narrrling and I talked it over and we decided to go for the caesarian. Plus, it was really starting to hurt!
Immediately I was prepared for a caesarian and on the 7th hour, I was wheeled away to the Operation Theatre in another floor. In SJMC, the Operation Theatre doesn't allow the spouses to enter. And as I was wheeled away on my own by a bunch of strangers, a sudden wave of sadness came over me and my eyes became teary. Seeing the image of Narrrling growing smaller and smaller as I was wheeled into the Operation theatre suddenly made me realize that I was going to be going through this birth thing all alone and fear and loneliness kicked in. It felt like my world was suddenly taken over by a group of strange people dressed like smurfs in their blue uniform and caps and masks. Each person doing their own thing on me, some sticking needles into me, some taping some round stickers onto my chest, some tying my upper arm with some band like thingy, some positioning and strapping me down in a spread-eagle hands apart style and lastly, a huge blue cloth was draped over my face so that my entire world suddenly became nothing but blue... And the procedure began.
With epidural, I still felt what they were doing to me except I didn't feel any pain. I felt them cutting me, I felt them putting their hands inside, pulling, pushing and tugging.. One smurf decided to be nice and came by, lifted my blue curtain and told me, “Madam C, don’t worry, it’ll be over very soon, they’re cutting through the 5th layer now..”
I guess that was supposed to be really comforting. Then I heard the doctor say to her assistant, “You push, I pull. Ok ready? One two three! Again! One two three! Again! ONE TWO THREE!!”
And suddenly, I heard my baby cry…. I was expecting them to throw open my blue curtain and show me my baby but they didn’t. Instead I heard my baby being taken away, his cries getting softer and softer. A wave of emotions came over me again, “Why can’t they show me my baby? I want to see my baby!”
All I could hear was my baby cry in the distance and all I could see was the blue curtain over my face while I was lying there helplessly strapped down. The epidural was also making me shiver violently. It was cold and lonely and how I wish Narrrling were there with me.
“Miki-C, you ok? We’re going to close the openings and stitch you up now, ok?”
Those were the doctor’s last words before another series of pulling and tugging started over my stomach while I lay there shivering under the blue curtained world. At some point, the doctor and her assistant started chatting,
"Eh you know the angkasawan’s brother died? Poor thing ah. He’s only…."
"I delivered quintuplets last month.. Nobody wanted to take the case but I…"
At some point I even tried to participate in their conversation so I said, "What is quintuplets again? 5? 8?"
Both doctor and assistant went quiet for a while, I guess they didn't expect me to be so sociable in that state, you know with my guts and stomach cut open and lying about. After about 3 seconds of silence, the doctor hastily answered me and continued her story, this time more conscious that I'm listening in as well.
And I was lying there half listening to these conversations and at the same time, pining for Narrrling and my baby. I could still hear his loud cries from another room and I started to wonder about the color of his hair, his weight, his height…
Why can’t they show me my baby??!!After what seemed like the longest time, they finally brought my baby to my little world behind the blue curtain and said,
“Madam C, this is your baby. Check ah, your tag number is 79992 and the baby’s also wearing the same number tag, 79992. Ok? Now we bring the baby to the nursery”
And that was it… I saw my baby for about 5 seconds before they sent him away…
I lay there afterwards, thinking about the little squirmy blue-ish baby I just saw, half listening to the doctor and her assistant’s continuous chatter. Gosh, it’s getting so uncomfortable lying there with my hands wide apart, shivering like crazy. It’s been almost an hour since I was in the Operations theatre and I couldn’t wait for the procedure to end. I wanted to get back to Narrrling, to more familiar places and faces.
When the procedure finally ended, I was so glad when they took off the straps on both my hands, I started waving my hands in the air because it was just getting so sore being tied down for so long. Just when I thought they were going to wheel me back to my room, they brought me to another room, saying that I had to be monitored before going back to my ward. So there I lay, shivering and shivering (side effects of the epidural), with one lady on my right who looked like she was in real pain because she was screaming out from time to time and on my left, an unconscious man who looked like he just underwent a sex change operation.
I comforted myself with thoughts that I’m the best one off among the 3 of us there. I just had a baby and amidst the shivering and pain and loneliness at that point of time, that is one of the most joyful moments of my life.
I also know that later when I’m wheeled back to my room, there’ll be someone there waiting for me..
And yes, that’s right, on a Monday evening of 29th October 2007, Hayden Nie Wen Walraven @
Mini-N came to this world. Welcome on board, baby… Now, another part of our lives begins together…
The End of One Era, The Beginning of Another...
It's going to end tomorrow. The end of 9 months, the end of not being able to wear my own socks, the end of the backaches and elephant legs, the end of being my gynae's top 5% of the most swollen pregnant ladies she's ever treated, the end of living my life like a bachelorette, basically the end of one era in my life.
Tomorrow, a new era begins. I will join the league of the rest of the superhero moms! I will be Miki-C the speed hero who can change diapers and make milk fast like lightnin! Miki-C the body multiplier who can breastfeed, bath a baby and whip up a meal for the family all at the same time! Miki-C the mind-reading hero who knows what baby is thinking before he is even thinking it himself! Up up and away!
The truth is, I'm freaking out. I was inspecting the image of myself in the mirror earlier today. My tummy has grown huge, no sign of those Mystique appearance changing super hero powers to make myself look like a pregnant supermodel. My vagina looked very much like it was 9 months ago. I'm not sure a puppy can come out of there, what more an 8 pounder baby, no sign of that elastic super hero power. Basically, at times like this, how i wish i was a superhero. A power or two will come in real handy tomorrow.
Tomorrow 29th October 2007, 7am, everything will end.... and everything will begin....
Paranoia
My 3rd trimester pregnancy has so far been mainly marked with one word,
'paranoia'. I was sitting on my bed a moment ago when i suddenly saw 2 round spots of wet stains on my sheets. The first question i asked myself was...
"Oh shit, is that from my water bag?"...Last night i was doing some cleaning around the house when suddenly I realised that my thighs were a bit damp with moist... As usual, I asked myself,
"Shit, Is that from my water bag?"... I changed out of those clothes into something else, sat myself in an air-conditioned room and waited.. No further dampness.. i guess it was sweat after all..
So yeah, paranoia hits the pregnant woman... and the supporting male lead... Everytime I say something like that, instead of pacifying me, Narrrling looks equally as worried with that should-we-rush-to-the-hospital expression all over his face.
We started attending pre-natal classes a few weeks ago and in the first class, they taught us to watch out for signs of pre-mature birth or a troubled baby in the womb... such as sudden changes of baby movements, bleeding, waterbag leaking..etc.. From that day onwards, I started dreaming of bleeding when i slept and in my wake hours, i started feeling that my baby's movements have changed.
"Eh, I never felt him kick so hard before. Is that normal?" "Why's he doing the same thing over and over again for the past 10 minutes?!! This can't be right!" "Is he kicking me harder today? Is he facing some kind of distress?"Basically it's a lot of scaring myself... and the supporting male lead...
The second pre-natal class, the instructor taught us how to recognize signs that I'm going into labour... Extreme back pain, water bag burst, stomach pain like I urgently need to go toilet..etc... The next day, Narrrling and I went out for indian food. After the meal, i had a terrible pain in my stomach and immediately I thought,
"Is that labour pain or normal diarrhoea stomach pain?" I started counting the time between pain/contractions... Then poor confused Narrrling asked me if he should drive me to the nearest toilet or the nearest hospital. I said,
"I don't know! Toilet first!" Yeah, then i found it was just one big stomach pain as an immediate reaction to the indian food. Apalar.. again i managed to scare myself... and the supporting male lead..
Oh yeah, another thing that bothers me in my 3rd trimester is also looking into the mirror. I have issues admitting I'm looking at myself. WHAT THE... !!! No wonder recently i met at least 2 colleagues I've not seen for a long time who had troubles recognizing me. I saw it, ok. They hesitated for like a second or two before recognizing me! One of them is a lady I was fairly close to so i asked her...
"Oh my gawd! You didn't recognize me!! Have i changed so much??"....Then she was quick on her come back line and said,
"No, No... it must be your hair!"Eh, how can lar.. I just had a trim, ok. Sigh... I look awful. Some people say, when you carry a girl, you'll look radiant and beautiful but nobody told me when you carry a boy, you'll look like Beastmaster! I think i look like a ball, short and round. You know what, one of these days when I'm tired of driving home from work, i should just roll home.
