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Shazi Ezan

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Ugly Singaporean... Part 2

Bitched on: Thursday, April 27, 2006
Time: 4/27/2006 01:57:00 AM

In Part 1, I was relating how my friend 'lost' his MP3 player and then 'found' a new one.
At least he was 'honest' to admit that his 'new' MP3 player was 'found'...

Not only MP3 players, handphones too are getting so easily 'lost' nowadays.
Dishonest pickpockets and careless handphone owners.
It has become almost a norm to have at least one of my friends to 'lose' their cell phones every week.
And it is one of the fastest rising crime in Singapore.
Handphone theft.
I shudder to think of the consequences if I 'lost' mine...

My endless list of celebrity contacts, proof of my illegal MP3s and of course my raunchy sex videos would be for all the world to see...

In all seriousness, I would just die trying to re-collect all the lost contacts. Not to mention the lost pictures and videos (ehem...) that can never be re-shot.

Speaking of handphones, here was what happened to me just this morning.

5am:
My handphone rang beside my bed.
Picked up the phone. I was groggy and of course pissed off, having fallen asleep only 2 hours earlier.

Me (extremely groggy): Hellooooooo........?
Lady (on the other side of line): Hello?
Me: Helllloooooooooo......?
Lady: Hello? Hello?
Me (slightly irritated now): Yes. Hello?
Lady: Hello?
Me (sat up in my bed, extremely annoyed): Hello?! How can I help you?!
Lady: Oh. Is this the house-cleaning agency?
Me (pissed off but still trying to control my anger): Nooo........
Lady:.... (slams the phone down)

Me: ... bitch...

Wouldn't it kill her to apologise?
I mean, lady, you called me at an ungodly hour, clearly woken me up from my precious slumber, annoyed me with all the 'Hello's and then you (God dammit) slammed the phone on me when it was you who was clearly at fault...

Wouldn't it kill you to mumble, "sorry...," and then slam down the phone?

Or, "I might have dialled the wrong number. My apologies."

Or, "Oopps, I called you by mistake."

And then slam down the phone?
Instead, why don't you learn to put it down gently like a civilised lady you ought to be?

Or I would rather you hold on a second to hear me mutter
"bitch.." to you on the phone.

It was hard for me to fall asleep again after that incident.
I was tossing and turning in my bed, imagining all the unthinkable tortures I could do on that lady...

She was rude.
Extremely rude.
And she wasn't the only wrong caller I encountered with the same lack of courtesy.
Some barbarians would immediately hang up the phone just as I say, "hello," on the other line.
So so rude....

Usually I would not 'let them off' so easily (especially those repeat offenders).
I would ask them for the number they were trying to dial and then point out their (stupid) mistake.
Otherwise, they would still call you... (until hours later when they realise the 8 was actually a zero)

I too have been on the other side of the fence and when it does happen I will (of course) apologise and then add, "have a nice day."
Sounds more civilised, doesn't it?
And its not so hard to do. It simply rolls of the tongue.

I have noticed that many Singaporeans feel awkward to say that. Or simply smile at strangers.
Even 'thank you's are out of the question.

I have been a waiter for around 2 months now and already I can see the difference between the locals and foreigners (be it American, Japanese, Korean or German).

While the Westerners are (much much) more generous with their please and thank you, Singaporeans are stingy!

Singaporeans simply demand this or that like this guy I encountered a few weeks back. He kept saying, "I want this ..." instead of the usual, "Can I have this..."
It was so annoying.
I felt like telling this to his face, "Why don't you get it yourself, jerk?"

Others simply gesture for this or that like a mime or something.
I can't read your mind, I am no psychic.
It would make things easier if you speak, wouldn't it?

Others snap their fingers or whistle to get your attention when they want something.
I'm a human. Not a dog...

Worst, some even brush you away like a fly when you offer them something like a re-fill of water.
(Now that does it...)

I have met some locals who would eye you suspiciously when you say, "Have a nice day."
Or smile to them for that matter.

Would it kill you to smile back?
Is it beneath you to say, "you have a nice day too"?
Are you so high and mighty to even say 'thank you'?

Labels: Singapore stories, ugly Singaporean

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Ugly Singaporean... Part 1

Bitched on: Monday, April 24, 2006
Time: 4/24/2006 10:34:00 PM

I was in my gym's restroom today about to change into my gyming attire when I found a brand new orange Creative Zen MP3 player complete with Sennheiser headphones (that's a mouthful) on the bench in the changing room.

At first I thought that it belonged to someone using the shower or urinal but after a while it was clear I was alone.

I have to be honest and say that I did think of taking it and keeping it for myself (it is brand new and I was in need of another MP3 player...).

Then, my conscience told me otherwise. I should leave it alone on the bench.

Then again, if someone dishonest were to stumble onto it, they would do exactly what I thought of earlier - keep it for oneself or.... even sell it away.

So I did what I thought was best and kept it for myself.

Not...
I turned it in to the friendly makcik (auntie) behind the gym counter who in turn passed it to the hot gym instructor (a girl, a girl, a girl... not a dude, lemme get that clear... sheesh.).
And while I was writing my particulars (as a witness of some sort), she 'gazed' into my eyes and said, "That was an amazingly honest thing you did."

I just melted. Haha...
See, honesty pays.

It also pays to see the rightful owner receiving it back just as I was about to leave the gym after ... ehem... 2 hours of gym (okok, 1 hour plus...).
It turned out while I was changing into my clean clothes in the changing room, a couple of guys came in. They began searching high and low for something.
I overheard them speaking in Mandarin (yes, I understand Chinese... So beware if you wanna gossip about me...).

Dude 1: You sure you left it here?
Dude 2 (the-clearly-more-anxious-one): I am... wah... die die..
Dude 1: Who gave it to you again?
Dude 2: My girlfriend. It was a present from her last month. hongkan liao (what's that in English??)... (and then he goes on to say Hokkien expletives peppered with the F-word...)

Then they headed out to the gym counter.
Just as I was about to leave the gym, I passed by the counter and the nice auntie introduced me as the hero who returned the MP3 player.
I blushed. The two guys thanked me.

Dude 2: Wah... Thank you. Thank you... so very much. It means a lot to me.
Dude 1: Lucky it was you who found it. Lucky you were honest... Thank you very much...

I know Dude 1 was sincerely just trying to thank me but there was something he said (or the way he said it) that left me speechless and insulted.

Like hello???

Lucky I was honest? I know exactly how he felt though...

Cause I had this friend who lost his MP3 player too. When he left his bag unattended at (all places in the world, you think someone would dare steal in) a mosque while he was performing his friday prayers!!! Amazing... a place of worship is not even safe? A house of God needs a safe of some sort?

Ironically, it was my friend's first time in years to be performing his weekly Friday prayers...
And he has sworn not to go again....
Kidding, I made the last part up...

And a few months later, he stumbled across an unattended MP3 player (iPod Shuffle, I think) on a bus seat and you know what?
He took it.
He reasoned that it was to pay back at the person who stole his MP3... A karma thing...

Gee... It all makes sense, eventually, the original thief would also lose my friend's MP3...
Its all clearer now.

Bullocks...

Continued: Part 2

Labels: Singapore stories, ugly Singaporean

0 comments

Pink Power!

Bitched on: Thursday, April 20, 2006
Time: 4/20/2006 11:19:00 PM

Meet the latest celebrities in Singapore blogosphere.
Colin and Kero.

Some of you might have heard of them, some of you might not.
For the benefit of those who haven't, they are the .. erm... couple with the alternate lifestyle.

They are gay.
They are homosexual.
And they are out of the closet.
(So way out of the closet, I think they locked the closet door and threw away the key and burnt the closet down...)

They posted pictures of them on their blog.
Large-sized Neoprint pictures of them hugging and stuff (nothing dirty here)...
I have to admit that it was disturbing and weird at first.
Reading how their (happy; cheerful) days went, their blindingly hot pink background for their blog, their terms of endearment for each other; darlin and dear, their pictures together...
I mean, if not for the pictures, you would have thought it was some heterosexual couple's blog.
(But that would not create any buzz, would it?)

So what's the buzz?
Well, just take a look at their tagboard.
It's like a mini chat room or a mini MSN.
Pro-gays and anti-gays debating as if its a er... debate... or something.
Constant messages pouring in like 'Gays are sick' to 'Kudos for comin out' to 'Are you out of your mind to be supporting them?'

My take on this?
Scroll up, see the 'Queer Friendly' ribbon thingy on the top left corner?

I'm not one of those Alpha males (or so they want to think they are) who threaten to kick these 'faggot's arses' or crucify these 'homos' for declaring their love on their blog.

Instead I sympathised with them (I didn't say empathised hor... cos that would be an entirely different story). Why?

Number One, like I have mentioned earlier, it is their blog.

I say, freedom of speech (ya sure, tell it to the people invovled in the Danish caricatures hoo-hah).

Number Two, though my religion (as many other countless religions) disapproves of homosexuality, I feel that no matter what, God loves us all, straight or gay.
So who are we to hate or condemn them?

(If you are picturing these two being tortured in hell by your God, then I'm sorry but I say, you have a very scary and unforgiving God)

Number Three (which is most important), they are in love. They are so 'into each other', they put most heterosexual couple I know to shame.
Kudos, for not keeping your love a secret.
Kudos, for declaring it out loud.
Kudos, for not being ashamed.

I stumbled onto their blog while reading two of my friends' blogs recently. A guy and a girl.
The guy was (as expected) condeming these two (quote; "..beat the shit out of them..") whereas the girl was (as expected) gushing on how romantic and sweet they are.
I can't quite put a finger on why guys are more likely to be antipathetic than gals.

Why does this stigma exist in the male population?
Why the homophobia? The prejudice?

Some guys generalise all gay guys as effeminate and even emasculated which is not true in some cases (like those shirtless guys viewing my profile in Friendster, they are far from the stereotypical 'sissies'...).

And there are some friends, who I feel are 'softer' and more effeminate than most guys, who boasts girlfriends (I'm not naming who... Gee...)

Some guys find gays irksome and sickening.
Why? Its not like they are trying to pick you up or converting you into one of them, is it?

I would have thought that this particular homophobic friend (the one from above) would have changed his mentality since a couple of our close friends came out of the closet about a year ago.

We were close to them. Yes.
We knew them so well. Yes (or so we thought... but that's a different story).
The bottomline is that we are still friends and things are no different now and then.

Did they make a move on us? No.
Did they cause us any bodily harm? No.
Did they (*gasp) molest us? Hell no.

Are they actually extraterrestrial lifeforms in disguise?
Are they mutants now?
Last time I checked, they still breathe oxygen and have not joined the X-Men.

So I say stop the prejudice and accept that some people have different sexual orientation than you.

I truly hope that this homophobic friend of mine is not serious about beating the shit out of them.

Because homophobia is not a light matter in some countries.
Instead, it can be a matter of life and death. You can pay with your life if you ever declared yourself gay in some Asian communities.

And it is sad how these people have to live in fear and in denial all their lives. Just look at 'Brokeback Mountain' (yes, the gay cowboy movie, which is to me, more than that).

The movie is about suppressing true love, creating pseudo-heterosexual-marriages that society selfishly expects and the occasional fatal backlash against the gay communities.

Something tells me that this will not be my last entry on homosexuals. And that I have just contributed to the already increasing readership for Colin and Kero's blog.

Before I sign off, I leave you some words from Kero (or izzit Colin?)...

"... u hate us because u fear us, u fear us because u dont understand us.. i believe most (of you) watched the X-men? the situation is somehow similar, mutants desperately trying to fit into the society despite the difference.. lols..."

Another related entry: Gay Magnet?

Labels: gay

2 comments

Have I seen you before?

Bitched on: Monday, April 17, 2006
Time: 4/17/2006 12:17:00 AM

Has anyone told you that you look familiar? Or that you look like someone famous?

Do you have groupies or the paparazzi hounding you wherever you go?

Ever sworn you see a Hollywood hunk or a Bollywood babe staring back at you whenever you look into a mirror?

Or you had this gut feeling that you and Jude Law were twins seperated at birth.
I sure did.

And I was right. I got all my proof from this website that we are in fact twins. See for yourself. And gawk at the resemblance.

Amazed? I wasn't.
Betrayed? I was.
I knew it right from the start, my parents hid something from me! Imagine that, my twin, a multi-millionaire celebrity hailing from the UK...

Ya RITE... Haha. So bullshit...
But I have to admit it was really fun anticipating the results and laughing my crap out when I saw the results.
Turns out, my picture was 67% similiar to that of Jude Law's. Go figure...

My other twin?

Try Latino heart-throb, Antonio Banderas.
Or check out my long lost sister, Zhang Ziyi or Ziyi Zhang, wadeva your name is, sis. You may be unwelcomed back in China but you are always welcome to my home, sis.

Other laugh-out-loud-till-I-piss-in-my-pants celebrities who bear resemblance to me (or should it be the other way round?) include Ashton Kutcher and Tiger Woods.

Convinced?
Haha... Bullcrap.

Still think you are born from the same womb as Demi Moore or Tom Cruise?
Or you were made from the same cookie cutter as Maggie Q or Wong Bin?

Confirm your suspicions by going to this website.
Try it out. You have to register though. No worries, its free.
Just upload your pictures and the site will match your face to their list of celebrities'. (No pictures of yourself with sunglasses though, and your face has to be easily detectable)

Warning: Only for the super shameless and have nothing better to do. Haha... That's me.

Closer to home, I do have a 'twin'. He is actually a good friend's boyfriend (hope he doesn't mind I post his picture). Haha..

Will the real Slim sHa-Z please stand up?

Labels: rubbish

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I'm against abortion. Are you?

Bitched on: Thursday, April 13, 2006
Time: 4/13/2006 11:49:00 PM

A message I found posted by my friend on the bulletin in Friendster. I re-wrote some parts (parts I thought should be more scientifically accurate and gruesome). The story is kinda sad so I thought why not share it with you all. And make you guys sad? (kidding...)

Week 4
Mommy, I am only 4 mm long, but I have some of my organs like my eyes and a spinal cord. I love the vibrations whenever you speak. Every time I feel it, I wave my arm and leg buds. The sound of your heart beat is my favorite lullaby. And my heart is beating too, just like yours...

Week 8
Mommy, if you could see me, you could definitely tell that I am a baby. I have tiny fingers and toes now. I'm not big enough to survive outside my home though. I only weigh a gram. It is so nice and warm in here.

Week 12
You know what Mommy? I'm a boy!! I hope that makes you happy. I always want you to be happy. I don't like it when you cry. You sound so sad. It makes me sad too, and I cry with you even though you can't hear me.

Week 16
Mommy, my hair is starting to grow. It is very short and fine, but I will have a lot of it. I look more like you now. My eyes and ears are in place. I spend alot of my time exercising. I can turn my head and curl my fingers and toes, and stretch my arms and legs. I am becoming quite good at it too.

Week 20
I can hear you clearly Mommy. Every single word you say, your laughter, your cries...

I know you went to the doctor today. Mommy, he lied to you. He's wrong. He said that I'm not a baby.
I am a baby Mommy, your baby...

I think and feel. You felt me too, Mommy, you felt me moving inside of you. You cried whenever you felt that. And also when the doctor said abortion.
Abortion?
Mommy, what's that?

Week 24
Mommy I can see now, my eyes are finally open!!

But I can hear that doctor again. I don't like him. He seems cold and heartless. He keeps saying the word abortion. Mommy, you haven't tell me what's that? Mommy... huh...

... something is intruding my home.... ow...

The doctor called it a needle...Mommy what's happening? It hurts! Please make him stop! I can't get away from it! Mommy! Help...

(two days later)

My home... Its smaller now. Tighter. I feel suffocated. Mommy, what's wrong?
Am I suppose to come out now? Huh... Ouch!

What's that? Its pulling my legs down. Am I suppose to come out? Its hurting me. The evil man called it a forcep. Its painful Mommy. He's pulling me out of you. But I'm not ready Mommy...

...

Mommy, I'm out. I'm out. I can breathe freely now. I can see you. You saw me too. You're crying Momm..

(The evil man inserts scissors into the base of the skull while the baby is still alive, breathing, and the scissors blades are spread apart to create an opening. A suction catheter is placed into the opening and the brain is sucked out. The skull collapses and it (he) is removed.)

Week 28
Mommy, I am okay. I am in the Almighty's arms. He is holding me. He told me about abortion. I forgive you Mommy.

He told me about my father. And about the time he raped you. I forgive him too, Mommy.

But why didn't you want me Mommy?
Why?

I love you Mommy.
And you could have loved me too, if you had given me the chance.

Every Abortion Is Just . . .
One more heart that was stopped.
Two more eyes that will never see.
Two more hands that will never feel.
Two more legs that will never run.
One more mouth that will never speak.

I'm against murder. Are you?

This story is entirely ficitional, but the horrific procedures are not.
It is one of many abortion procedures that are being carried out today.
This baby was fortunate, at least he was able to see the world, though briefly.

Others are not, some are simply denied blood supply and suffocate to death, some are cut by a surgical knife into many pieces to be suctioned out of the uterus and some are simply crushed to death with forceps and are removed from the uterus in pieces.

Abortion equates to murder, denying someone a chance to live.

There are other choices for unwanted and unplanned pregnancies. And abortion should not be one of them.
There is help.
Give life a chance.

Please spread the message by re-posting this in your blog or forward this via email.

*tear...

For help, please contact:
Babes (A Youth Programme provided by Beyond Social Services)
For teens with child & the child in them

Labels: abortion

0 comments

Scarred for life... Thanks.

Bitched on: Monday, April 10, 2006
Time: 4/10/2006 05:58:00 PM

I re-read my previous blog entry and boy, it sounds disturbing.
I was really in a depressed mood when I was typing it. It kinda makes me sound like a cry baby. Haha...
Which is very unlike me. Haha... My friends can vouch for me.
Rite...

Goes to show you behind this confident smile is a melancholic shadow of me.
I have received overwhelming well wishes and advice from my friends. A friend from Australia even called me to say, "Goodday, mate." (OK, she didn't exactly say that) but some words of encouragement. Thanks Rowds, but when my phone bill comes, I'll mail it to you. Cheers babe.

Others sent me countless of SMSes and messages on my MSN and tagboard (even complete strangers), lotsa 'Dun worry about your pimples. More worry, more pimples' and 'you look fine' and 'its your personality that counts'.

And I got a lot of recommendations on other skin products and skin specialists and stuff from you guys and gals.
I will (sigh...) try it out. Thanks.

Thanks for all the support but like I said, I just wanted to lighten the weight on my chest (or lighten the scars on my face...erm...) and nothing else.

I'm not trying to gain sympathy from those previously unaware of my plight, neither do I want you to feel bad about teasing me all these years.

Its what I feel and think all this years when I had had to smile awkwardly at jokes, shy away from stares and freeze during conversations about my skin.

I feel better having written it down. Just slightly better but better nevertheless.

To let people know I am not always the overly-confident, amiable, 'flirty' and extroverted friend they think I am, however, I do have a huge flaw which is my low self-esteem. And that's just who I am. That's my baggage, I guess.

But I won't lie by saying the situation has improved so much. Cause I still do feel that way. I do feel ugly outside. My friends have told me otherwise but I don't feel that way. Its just me... Can't help the way I feel.

Maybe I will feel better about myself one day.
Yes, I know my complexion will improve. But I will have to wait. And I am tired of waiting, ya know what I mean?

Sadly, it will take years for the scars to recuperate. Trust me when I say that I have done a lot of research on acne, acne scars and the possible surgeries (laser, chemical peel...) on the Internet, from skin specialists and other doctors. I have been watching my diet and drinking lots of water (the common advice from friends... but I know, I have been drinking A LOT).

And acne scars will almost never heal (entirely) on its own. Famous examples of Singaporean TV personalities with acne scars include Gurmit Singh, Adrian Pang and Mark Lee. They are well into their thirties but are still plagued with pockmarked faces. And I don't wanna look like that when I'm older. I really don't.

I can honestly relate to the song, "Beautiful" by Christina 'Slutty' Aguilera.
But this time, the tormentors are much worst - myself.

I have my own definition of who or what is beautiful or good-looking, and I feel that I don't look that way. Don't blame it on TV, magazines or the media (though they did have an influence on how I define beauty), I blame it on me (for being weak and susceptible to the influence).
I'm shallow, narcissistic, envious and vain. These are like my 4 deadly sins.

I don't exactly feel better thanks to shows like Extreme Makeover that shows people who have been 'transformed', the 'before' and 'after' pictures of people using some endorsed facial products and the promises of 'acne-free' life from facial products advertisements. Not to mention those pushy salespersons shoving the skincare products they are endorsing in your face in pharmacies or the skincare department in shopping centres and they will just simply irritate you with their constant promises to clearer skin. They just give me more false hopes that I could be that way (at the expense of me forking out more money)...

You can never escape the pressure to look better and girls are not only the victims here. Guys too..

You might ask, "But Shazi, why do want to look better? When you make it up in all other areas."

Ask yourself this first. Who doesn't want to look normal?

Cause I do.

"...Now and then, I get insecure.
From all the pain, I'm so ashamed..."

- Beautiful by Christina

Labels: acne

0 comments

Scarred for life...

Bitched on: Saturday, April 08, 2006
Time: 4/08/2006 12:47:00 AM

I stared for hours at the computer screen before I finally typed these words.
Tears rolling down my cheeks... hand clutching a wet tissue.... salty mucus dripping into my mouth... I feel horrible...

Why am I feeling this way?
My sis had just said something so seemingly insignicant to some, a minute comment, a passing remark, a harmless tease... Usually I would not have been offended by what she had said but clearly enough is enough.

I was showing her a picture of this guy who I thought looked similarly to me and I joked that he was my twin. My sister then joked to say, "Ya. He's the good-looking twin and you're the ugly pimply one. Haha. Pimple face."

Usually I could always make a good bitchy comeback but whenever someone teases me about my scarred pimply skin, I would be dumbfounded, my whole 'defense' mechanism would shut down and I would begin to withdraw as if I was crawling away to hide in a corner.

I went to my bed and tried to sleep but my mind just kept replaying the words she said to me.
Trust me, this is not the first time she said that to me. I have been called worst. Pimples. Pimple boy. Polka Dot face. Moon face. Everything and anything nasty.
And usually I wouldn't be bothered but because of my insomnia (I have been having that for the past 2 weeks now), the words kept ringing and ringing in my head until it came to a certain point when I just cried. I brokedown in my bed.
I was trying to do the manly thing you know, tried to keep it silent, stifling my cries, trying to control it. But I lost it.

I sobbed.
And sobbed as if I lost the most precious thing in the world to me.

So this was the time when I sat in front of my computer and turned it on and wrote this, still crying...

It pains me to talk about my skin and now I feel ready to talk.

I have always withdrawn from conversations when skin or complexion is invovled. I will keep quiet when my friends lament about a recent zit they have on their otherwise blemished-free skin. I will always turn speechless when people ask me about my skin condition. And I will always smile awkwardly when some friends make rude jokes about my acne. But it always pains me inside. Don't they care?

Its not fair.
Its not my fault I look this way. Or is it?
Is it because of what I eat? What I did or didn't do?
Is it because I don't wash my face often or because I over-do it?
Is it because I picked my pimples when I was younger (I honestly was clueless at that time and also thanks to my eldest sis who always 'pops' my pimples and I developed the habit as I grew older)?
Is it because of my genes?
What?
What's wrong with me?
Is it me?

Its not fair.
That I have to spend more effort and money on my skin.
That I have to watch what I eat.
That I can't enjoy fried or spicy food without worrying if I might have a large zit the next day.
Or that I have to cleanse my face more often than others, otherwise I would feel uncomfortable and oily each time I didn't.
That I need to spend hundreds of dollars on facial products, cleanser, exfoliant, skin rejuvenating cream or benzoyl peroxide creams (you name it, I have it) every month.
Or spend thousands on facials in facial spas or skin centres (which you will end up paying more when you buy their products that they 'promise' will help you).
Is it fair that I have to fork out an additional 60 dollars to buy medication from my doctor every single month.
(I think I could have spent close to S$2000 annually on all these products for the past 10 years or so...) Tell me is it fair?
People will just think that I have been idling my time away as my skin condition worsens when in reality they don't know how much effort and money I have spent to prevent it from deteriorating further.

Its not fair.
Watching people with clear skin having so much higher self esteem than me, chatting confidently with strangers, smiling like the world owes them a living.
That I am always feeling insecure about how I look when I take pictures up close. Or that I have to spend longer time to groom and conceal all those zits.
Or that I am always stared at by other people. Like a freak in a freakshow.
Is it fair that I have low confidence in approaching girls, to do anything for that matter?
Or knowing that nobody would kiss me on my oily pimply cheeks.

Its not fair.
That I have to be at the butt of the joke of my so-called friends about my complexion. I know I look horrible. You don't have to point it out...
From the subtle, "I don't want to pick my zit otherwise I would look like Shazi," to the trying-to-be-helpful-but-really-you-are-not, "I think its in the genes cause I saw your dad and he looks like you too," to the plain nasty, "All those oxy cream is not helping you, give up lah. Your face liddat (like that). Why still using?"

Now, its really not fair.
To add to my acne scars, I have chicken pox scars.
Horribly scarring the skin on my torso and arms, not to mention my already disfigured face.
This time I really feel like showering with acid to melt my skin away.
Recently, I had mustered the courage to go to gym wearing a singlet instead of my T-shirt.
And that would be the last time I'll be wearing singlets to anywhere for that matter.
Because while I was changing in the washroom, I overheard a couple of Malay guys talking about my scarred body (...in Malay), unaware that I was also Malay and I could understand them, every single word. At first I saw one gesturing to the other with his eyes to look at me. They laughed and then the one who noticed first asked the other guy what was wrong with me. Not wanting to hear anymore, I scurried out of the changing room, obviously embarassed. I felt like I had a disease, you know? I felt like I was in a way being discriminated against. I felt humiliated.
Tell me is this fair?

There was this young nephew of mine who rubbed his palms on my cheeks and ask me blatantly, "What is wrong with your face? Why do you look different? You are so rough." I explained it to him that I had pimples.
That night, I cried myself to sleep (I'm such a crybaby, I know)...

And now he asks a different question, one I don't have the answer to, "Izan, why do you have so many pimples?"
And he asks that every single time he rubs my cheeks again or kisses me on the cheek. And my eyes will water slightly when I reply, "I don't know."

On the eve of the past 10 birthdays of my life, I have always prayed to God for the same thing.

To grow taller and to have clear skin. After I turned 17 (and I know its scientifically proven that humans stop growing and I can never grow any taller), I've still been clinging to the hope that when I wake up the next morning my skin would be all fine and I would look normal. Every single morning of my birthday, I will wake up feeling cheated and stupid as I look at myself in the mirror. And I will ask God, "God... why am I still ugly? It is not fair..."

Even though I believe in the 'beauty is only skin deep' rubbish, I can't help to think that these scars have not only scarred me on the outside, it has left deeper scars within me.

I don't need you (my friends) to take pity on me as I am writing this not to gain your sympathy or understanding, I'm writing this primarily because I want to.

You don't have to feel sorry for me in anyway, because I already do feel sorry for myself.

"I sobbed.
And sobbed as if I lost the most precious thing in the world to me."

My pride.

Labels: acne

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Instructions for Dummies

Bitched on: Wednesday, April 05, 2006
Time: 4/05/2006 03:06:00 PM

Here's something I came across in this really retarded website recommended by a really retarded (kidding) friend of mine. LoL...
If you like retarded things... see this retarded (I like the word, OK?) site.
Here's just some things to crack you up.

Some examples of why the human race has probably evolved as far as possible. These are actual instruction labels on consumer goods...

On Sears hairdryer:
Do not use while sleeping.
(Gee, that's the only time I have to work on my hair!)

On a bag of Fritos:
You could be a winner! No purchase necessary. Details inside.
(The shoplifter special!)

On a bar of Dial soap:
Directions: Use like regular soap.
(and that would be how?)

On some Swann frozen dinners:
Serving suggestion: Defrost.
(But it's 'just' a suggestion!)

On Tesco's Tiramisu dessert: (printed on bottom of the box)
Do not turn upside down.
(Too late! you lose!)

On Marks & Spencer Bread Pudding:
Product will be hot after heating.
(Are you sure? Let's experiment.)

On packaging for a Rowenta iron:
Do not iron clothes on body.
(But wouldn't that save more time?)(Whose body?)

On Boot's Children's cough medicine:
Do not drive car or operate machinery.
(We could do a lot to reduce the construction accidents if we just kept those pesky 5 year olds off those fork lifts.)

On Nytol sleep aid:
Warning: may cause drowsiness.
(One would hope!)

On a Korean kitchen knife:
Warning: keep out of children.
(hmm... something must have gotten lost in the translation...)

On a string of Christmas lights:
For indoor or outdoor use only.
(As opposed to use in outer space.)

On a food processor:
Not to be used for the other use.
(Now I'm curious.)

On Sainsbury's peanuts:
Warning: contains nuts.
(but no peas?)

On an American Airlines packet of nuts:
Instructions: open packet, eat nuts.
(somebody got paid big bucks to write this one...)

On a Swedish chainsaw:
Do not attempt to stop chain with your hands.
(Raise your hand or.... stump if you've tried this...)

On a child's Superman costume:
Wearing of this garment does not enable you to fly.
(Oh go ahead! That's right, destroy a universal childhood belief.)

Finally, my favourite instruction:
DON'T CLICK HERE!
(Sure, like I'm gonna do that... I mean what can go wrong? Just try it... *click)

Labels: rubbish

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Platonic? Bull....

Bitched on: Sunday, April 02, 2006
Time: 4/02/2006 11:42:00 PM

Its about time I write this entry.
About what you ask?
Well, about relationships in general and a bit about what's happening in my personal life.
What kind of relationships?
Like Boy-Girl relationships or Boy-Boy relationships or Girl-Girl relationships or wadeva. You get the idea...

So here's the thing. Can a guy and a girl ever have just a platonic relationship?

I was a firm believer until I fell for a good friend of mine... and another friend decades later...

That was centuries ago. I'm not gonna talk about it though... But here's what I wanted to talk about.

I still do want to believe a guy and a girl can have a close friendship without the affection and the I-love-you-You-love-me part.

However, I'm beginning to think otherwise because a really close friend of mine (a great friend, in fact) confessed to me that she has feelings for me. Unfortunately, it wasn't mutual.

(Note to her: I know you are reading this right now but please don't condemn me for relating the story again and writing this entry. Because I have been in your shoes and I hope that by writing this I can put the past behind us and again reiterate that our friendship should not be compromised. I am writing this from the bottom of my heart, and I love you as a friend. And hurting you is the last thing on my mind. I wish you luck with the new man in your life.)

How did I react? I tried to soften the blow for her and did what I thought was the most gentlemanly thing I could do.
I apologised to her and told her of my feelings (or lack of it) for her.

I apologised to her if I had misled her into thinking otherwise. And again I reassured her that our friendship would not be altered and there would be no awkwardness when we are together. Wise move... But that was easier said than done.

Things did get a bit complicated and currently I hope that all these weirdness will just be passing phases.

First there was the over-zealous 'how-are-you-doing' phase, then there was the cold-shoulder phase, then there's the Jack f#$king Twist's 'I-wish-I-knew-how-to-quit-you' phase and eventually its the 'I-met-someone-new-will-you-be-cool-with-that' phase (well babe, like I said, I'm so cool, I'm wearing shades now... ehem... lame.)

Now back to the topic again, can a guy and a girl be the 'bestest' pals without one of them developing feelings for the other or the two suddenly realising the feelings they have for each other?

I still want to believe that you can but that would be hard, wouldn't it?
Eventually somewhere along the friendship, you would stop to think, "Wouldn't we make a nice couple?" or "We look good together, don't we? So what's stopping us?"

Hasn't it crossed your mind?

"She/he is the best friend I ever had," would eventually lead to, "she/he is the best thing that ever happened in my life."

I mean why not?

"We share a lot of things in common, that's why we are friends in the first place.
She/he is the only girl/guy who showers me with that much attention.
She/he is there when I need her/him.
I love her/his company.
She/he knows me inside out.
Saves us the trouble to get to know each other all over again.
I love her/him, and I don't know what I would do without her/him in my life.
And why was that jerk/bitch flirting with her/him?

Oh my God, why am I jealous?"

Pretty convincing reasons , no?

Which reminds me of an episode from my all-time favourite show, F.R.I.E.N.D.S. when Rachel found out about Ross's crush on her and the episode was aptly entitled 'The One Where Rachel Finds Out'.

Rachel, Monica and Phoebe were discussing about the possibilty of Ross and Rachel being together. I quote from Phoebe, "...you two going out together would be like going out on the 15th date..."

Exactly...

Eventually, after a decade of their on and off relationship, the pair finally ended up together. And the show also produced another friends-to-lovers couple, Monica and Chandler.

Kinda makes you wonder if in reality, 2/3 of guy and gal friendships will eventually lead to somewhere, huh?

Who need friends when you have me, me and me...?

Labels: BGR, personal, rubbish

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