Sunday, November 20, 2011

The Truth About FWD Mails

How many times have we been explicitly annoyed with the constant flow of the much dreaded 'forward mail' in our email inbox? These forward (or more commonly known by their 'FWD' abbreviation) mails have made emailing a pain in the butt with their often uselessness. According to me, the evil FWD mail can be broken down into four main forms:


That's right, kids. there's the Quiz mail, with a link to a website that often requires you to answer useless questions and find out even more useless (and often untrue) things about yourself.
There's the ever popular 'Chain' mail, which threatens you with impossible things like death by an exploding purple cellphone charger or a fatal wound inflicted by the mythical Chupacabra if you do not pass it on. These often require you to count backwards from 100 and then make a wish while spitting in your hand.
Then there's the 'funny pictures' mail, which isn't so bad. It mostly contains pictures of women drivers getting into accidents or someone's baby being cute by peeing in a soup bowl. The novelty wears off when the same pictures are sent to you over and over again by fifty-million different people. That's when you feel happy about all those accidents and you hope that the baby actually drank the soup.
Finally, there's the 'emotional, tear-jerking true story' email containing a totally fake and made-up account of people doing stupid things in the name of love/loyalty/cows.

BUT (yes, there's a but), there is a fifth form of the FWD mail, and that's the one containing valuable information. These forward mails have been a great help to me from time to time, and I shall give you the most recent examples as to why.

- The Day My iPod Stopped Working
It was like the end of the world for me. My iPod had been one of my most prized possessions ever since my parents had gifted it to me on my fifteenth birthday. I had spilled water all over it, and it wasn't switching on or charging. In the midst of my panic, I miraculously remembered an email I had received a couple of months prior to the incident about fixing iPods at home at zero cost. In a hurry, I opened my email, and after a couple of minutes I found what I was looking for. Someone had forwarded me an email about covering the wet iPod in dry rice and leaving it that way for 24 hours. The rice would absorb the water and the iPod would work again. I tried it, and it worked.

i hope the fact that i have a purple ipod nano is understandable through this picture.

- The Day My Grandfather Had A Stroke
We were all eating dinner when he collapsed in his chair. In twenty seconds he regained consciousness but his speech was slurred. Everyone was in a frenzy. A week and a half before it happened, I had read something in my email about certain things a person must do to figure out if another person has had a stroke or not. They were to. a. Ask the person to repeat any sentence after you. b. Ask the person to smile. c. Ask the person to raise their hands. If they are unable to do one or more of these things, they have most probably had a stroke and should be taken to a hospital within an hour. My grandfather was able to raise his hands, but his smile was lopsided and he couldn't coherently repeat what we were asking him to say. Identifying what had happened to him cleared our minds off of the confusion, and we were able to act and react fast to whatever was happening. My grandfather was taken to the hospital super quick, and in a few days he made a full recovery.

- The Day I Burnt My Hand
I blame my own stupidity for getting into that mess in the first place. The kettle was boiling, and like an idiot I put my hand over the steam emitting from the spout to see how hot it was. 


Let me tell you folks, it was SO BLOODY HOT. My hand got burnt. Luckily I had a small packet of flour inside the fridge. I had read in a FWD email that cold flour heals burns instantly and does not leave a single mark or a trace of pain. I applied the cold flour on the place where I had scalded myself, and when I washed it off (I had kept it on for ten minutes) there was absolutely no sign of any burning except a slight pinkish tinge to my skin (which faded within an hour). No blisters or puckering or peeling or any sort of pain at all. It was miraculous. One of my cousins had burnt her finger a bit while handling a hot pan, and her dad had forced her to apply ice to it. I was there at that time, and I told her to put flour on it instead. She settled for applying flour on one half of her finger and ice on the other. The place where the flour was applied had absolutely no marks and it had stopped hurting. The place where she applied ice however, turned into a blister.

x

So you see, after these incidents, whenever I receive a FWD email with a promising title (e.g. 'this is good for your health' or 'how to do so-and-so' etc), I never fail to go through it. Such information is great to be read and passed around. It could really help someone in their time of need.

But if someone ever forwards me a picture of a happy pooping cow and expects me to find it funny, I will find them. And then cut them up into a million pieces and then find that happy pooping cow and STUFF THE PIECES IN ITS MOUTH!!!!!!!!

Goodnight.

Sunday, July 10, 2011

Sims 3 Is Evil

if there's any game i have lusted after since as long as i can remember, it is Sims. it has always been my dream to control the entire lives of human simulations and make them do as i please. with Sims 3 being the coolest version yet, i was positively drooling for it. but since it was pretty expensive and my brother had already used up his all the 'money saved up for PlayStation 3 games' that we had accumulated on some other useless game, there was no way to obtain Sims 3.

'til yesterday, that is. my brother had found out that one of his friends owned Sims 3, and she was willing to let him borrow it for a little while (i.e. till she came back from her vacation in a few weeks). she came to our house last night and handed the CD over. as soon as she left, i snatched the CD from my brother and stared at it in all its glory, in half excitement and half disbelief.

yes, this was my exact expression.

we instantly put the CD in our PlayStation and began playing. the feeling of joy i had at that very moment was indescribable. i created an entire household that looked (almost) exactly like the members of my family. i built a home and furnished it. i played with my little Sims and controlled their every move, just as i had always desired to. what happened next looks like this:


i must have spent a good two hours on it, struggling to keep my eyes open (it was late at night) before i finally decided to go to bed and continue playing the next day. i then remembered the existence of my phone, and when i checked it i was surprised to see loads of missed calls and this:

well not exactly this, but you get the picture.

i was totally engrossed in the game, so much that i ignored almost every call and text message on my phone. i was so completely lost in the lives of the Sims that i had forgotten the fact that stuff happening in the real world was way more important.

i suddenly realized what i had done. i had ignored everyone just so i could play a measly game. never mind the fact that i had waited to play it for a year, or that i would have to return it soon. my heart had been replaced with the Sims 3 CD. i was a horrid, terrible, evil person. BAD DOBBY!

this was me when the realization had struck.

anyway, i apologized to everyone and then made the decision that i would no longer play Sims 3 ever again. it was just way too distracting, therefore making me unable to talk to/text anyone while playing the game at the same time. i applaud everyone who can handle their Sims' life and their own and not be an epic fail at either one. i had my share of playing it, and now i have given up the responsibility to my brother. so today, the entire day, my brother has been handling the household i created and is really enjoying himself (and his friends don't mind either). 

moral of the story: SIMS 3 IS EVIL AND DISTRACTING. 

or maybe this entire thing proves that i suck at multitasking. oh well.

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

The Blogger Meet Up

on Saturday, June 4th, i attended a Blogger Meet Up at the Ambassador Hall in Marriot Hotel.

it was hosted by Dell and Mobilink, who were giving bloggers a 'sneak peek' of the new Dell Streak 5.

yeah, this.

i can't remember what time i arrived, because my memory sucks like that. anyway, i was greeted quite politely by two ladies who escorted me to the Ambassador Hall.

yes, i am actually this short and was this happy to be there.

Russian Bear arrived around the same time as i did so we both went inside together. we sat next to each other and starting talking about everything (since we know each other already).

we were looking at everybody and noticed Hamza Bin Ladin and his friend (Ateeq Mughal) sitting together. i was all: OMG IT'S HAMZA OMG! i must have annoyed him by whispering his name fifty million times haha.

then, the presentation started. a girl introduced the product. i could tell she was super nervous because she was stammering throughout her entire speech:


she was soon replaced with a guy whose occupation i cannot remember. he was important, though. then there was this competition which involved Twitter and Facebook, two social networking websites which i barely use. and a Q&A session, with the person answering questions about the product correctly winning a gift. we were all handed brochures, in which Hamza, Russian Bear and I instantly noticed a misprint (they printed the weight of the Dell Streak 5 in the 'height' section).

during that time, i was getting hungry. i asked Hamza whether we would be served any food, and when he replied in the affirmative, all thoughts of the Dell Streak 5 flew out of my mind and was replaced with:


when the presentation was over, i grabbed Russian Bear and we rushed to where they were serving tea + edible stuff. the tea was mediocre but the sandwiches and cake were pretty good.

it was there i got to speak with Ahmed Yoosuf, a really cool blogger from Sri Lanka. HE WAS SO INTRIGUING! i wanted to ask him loads of questions but i didn't want to come across as annoying.

and then, the saddest part of the day: HAMZA REJECTED MY HIGH-FIVE. yeah. i won't even get into the details of that. -_-

overall, the entire event was not so bad. i did learn a little about the product (i think it's really fancy) and got to meet some super awesome bloggers. i was hoping we would have all gotten a free Dell Streak 5, but alas.

left to right: Russian Bear, Hamza, Ahmed, Ateeq

since we all didn't get a group shot, i drew them hahaha. and yes, they're all holding hands (SORRY GUYS :D)

x

for more details, you can check out:
Hamza's post (there's a picture of us here :D)
Ahmed's post
Ateeq's post 

x

or you could just buy the product. you know, if you're super rich and all that shizz.

Monday, June 6, 2011

Twisted Antics of My Childhood

all of us have done something strange during our childhood years. we've had our share of quirks and faults and moments where we've been caught doing something (innocently) weird and awkward when we were little.


some of my childhood weirdness has still stuck with me during my teenage years (proof above). but that's not what i'm going to talk about in this post. i'm going to enlighten you guys on the stuff that i've thankfully stopped doing, and the strange kiddish habits that i am glad to have grown out of.

i used to indulge in a lot of activities that might never be considered 'normal' for a child. some of these include:

chewing on the limbs of my dolls
it started when i was 3 years old, when i first got a taste of sleeping away from my mum whenever she used to go out at night with my dad. on those particular nights i used to sleep in a tiny, comfortable bed in my grandparents' room, and have my grandmum tuck me in each night. i used to enjoy the quality time i spent with my grandparents, but on one night, i was super cranky and decided that i really missed my mum and wanted to sleep between my parents on their bed, no matter what. since my mum and dad were out, and my grandparents were not in their room at that particular moment, i got extremely irritated and wanted to take out my frustration in the most attention-grabbing way possible. 
due to the fact that i was too young to think of all the absurd things that i was capable of doing to achieve the reaction i wanted, i did the first thing that came to my mind: grab a Waitress Barbie doll directly in my line of sight and take out my anger on her in doll-talk. when that didn't prove satisfactory, i got even more annoyed and did the most unladylike thing i could have ever done at that moment: viciously gnawed on the Waitress Barbie doll's arm.


it was fifteen minutes into that barbaric act when my sense snapped back into me and i realized what i was doing. i slowly unclenched my jaw and freed the Waitress Barbie doll's arm from my mouth, and when i looked at it, i let out a huge shriek. the doll's arm was a hideously mangled mess. it then dawned on me that i had destroyed something dear to me just because of a mood swing, and that made me really, really upset. i started wailing and crying at the top of my voice. it took me a couple of days to get over it.
once the OMG-i-killed-Waitress-Barbie phase was over, i realized that maybe the idea of putting a doll's limb in my mouth wasn't such a bad idea, and i had just taken it a little too far on the first try. the soft plastic of my other Barbies' legs and arms became a temptation. whilst playing with them i nibbled here and there, and began to gently chew on them when i was out of other stuff to do. this carried on for a couple of years, till i had perfected the act of chewing and left no marks at all. 
i can't remember how i stopped.

eating the biscuit part of an Oreo and leaving the cream
this practically made me an outcast among my first and second grade peeps. all the children used to do the 'in' thing in school: lick the white cream of the Oreo cookie and discard the black biscuit part. i on the other hand, used to scrape the white cream off the nearest surface and devour the biscuit with pleasure that was not understandable to anyone my age or below.

me
them (with cream in their mouths)

NO ONE GOT THAT I DIDN'T LIKE THE CREAM. i just didn't. i was ridiculed for this act of not-cream-liking for at least two years. and then Chips Ahoy became the new thing to eat.

imagining every person under a motorcycle helmet to be a total hero
this was something i had decided to take with me to the grave, but i feel like talking about it all of a sudden. so yeah, i might regret it later because it is one of the most embarrassing parts of my little-girl-ness. 
from ages 4 to 7, whenever i saw a motorcyclist wearing a helmet that covered his entire face, i always imagined the face underneath to me something like this:


hence making all motorcyclists with helmets+visors look like this to me:


even though it was apparent to the rest of the world that those guys must have been 30-year-old uncles or pimply teenagers or just extremely plain-looking human beings. I HAD A CRUSH ON EVERY MOTORCYCLIST WITH A NON-VISIBLE FACE. you can laugh now.

favouring the colour black in every drawing
when i was in preschool, all my teachers were worried. they thought i was a disturbed child, solely on the basis that while all my fellow classmates were making pretty pictures out of bright colours, i was scribbling away with a single black colour pencil on whatever drawing assignment i had been given to do. my mum was not at all perturbed. she said i was a happy child and encouraged me to draw as i pleased. the teachers all showed their concern, but little-me proved them wrong by starting to use bright colours after a while.

teacher and i.

i never stopped with the bright-colour-usage after that. just look at my blog. :P and my favourite colour is orange since as long as i can remember.

x

speaking of remembering, this is all i can remember for now :O which is enough to give you an idea of how strangely i used to behave when i was a child. oh well. 
i am glad to have changed. i stopped playing with dolls when i was 11. i can't remember the last time i ate an Oreo. i barely spare a glance at motorcyclists. i love colours.
please make me feel better about little-girl-me and share your weird childhood behavior, too! i would love to know how weird we've all been as little kids.

x

this is a repost.  i added the drawings.

Sunday, April 17, 2011

The Creep

i had tons of fun in my old school. i miss everything about it, and everyone in it.
three memories from my ex-school days stand out from the rest:
- studies
- friends
- boys.

my ex-school years were the most yummy in terms of eye-candy, because the place was crawling with hot guys. also the hawt, but mostly the hot. being a young teen (thirteen, to be exact) whilst getting admission in that school, i was subjected to feelings that i probably never felt before. i was a crusher, and i crushed on a new guy every millisecond.
being this way, a part of me has always wanted someone to feel the same way about me.

and let me tell you something, kids.
PEOPLE DID CRUSH ON ME. i know, right? impozzible. but true. i for one never expected anything like this to happen, but it did. and when it did, i was horrified.

DO YOU WANT TO KNOW WHY?!

because instead of the totally hot guys that my school had to offer, i got this:


The Creep.

The Creep was a thin, scrawny, oily-looking boy whom i had never spoken with in my entire life. i don't think i even noticed his existence, ever. he was my bus buddy throughout my 9th grade. not exactly a 'buddy', but we were in the same school bus due to living in the same area, so yeah. bus buddies. *cringes*
i never thought anyone like him would play a significant role in my life. but he did, because:
HE CRUSHED ON ME LIKE MAD.
i found out through one of my friends, whose brother was The Creep's friend. it went something like this:

my friend: you know what my brother told me?
me: obviously not, because i wasn't eavesdropping on you, nor did you enlighten me on this information before.
my friend: whatever. he said his friend likes you!

now, she used the term 'likes'. he didn't like me. he was OBSESSED with me. he used to call radio stations late at night to request and dedicate weird love songs to me. he would talk about me with his creepy little friends the entire school day. he would draw these terrible sketches of me on the back pages of every notebook he had.
i could tolerate it at that level, i suppose. i chose to ignore his weird behavior, and dismissed it as something that would hopefully pass in a little while.
it never passed. something happened which made me so angry, so very angry, that to this date i shall never forgive The Creep for it, ever. 

THIS IS WHAT HAPPENED:

one fine day at school, a couple of girls and a guy from the other classroom told me that this Totally Hot Guy was asking someone about me. that Totally Hot Guy was someone i had been crushing on for a couple of months, whom i had thought had never noticed my existence. apparently he did, and my friends had overheard.
they said that he was wondering who i was, and that he thought i was cute. now, this piece of information made me ecstatic, overjoyed, and OMG-HOT-GUY-THINKS-I'M-CUTE-OMG-esque. what i had never ever prepared for was what my friends told me next:

my friends: The Creep told him to back off, and said that you belong to him.
me:


I WAS SO ANGRY. apparently, what they said was true. this was what took place inside that classroom:

The Creep ruined my chance at even conversing with the guy i had been crushing on since two whole months, for which i shall forever hold a massive i-will-kill-him-someday grudge against.

as the months passed, his crush intensified more and more. he was too shy to say it to my face, so he sent his annoying friends to me, in hopes that i would listen to his woeful tale of desire through them and take pity on him and crush back. they even went as far to say that The Creep had informed his mum about how much he liked me, and that everyone in his family used to tease him about it.

*wail of despair*

The Creep made everything so uncomfortable and awkward. i told him to stop his weird behavior, believe me, i did. since i wanted to avoid him in every way possible at school, i sent him an email over a random weekend concerning the issue. it went something like this:

a short version of my polite and courteous email
please stop crushing on me. i do not share your feelings and it is best that you concentrate on something other than this nonsense, such as YOUR EDUCATION.
The Creep's reply: jusS gImMm3 0n3 cH@nc3 plZzzZz
me: *dies*

i don't know how i managed to survive 8th grade, but i did. it was a terrible, terrible year. i didn't even get to speak properly with any cute guy, because they were all under the impression that i was The Creep's property. no one even listened to me when i told everyone that the rumours circulating were untrue, and quite frankly, totally yuck.

when the summer vacations started, i was SO relieved. i used to get occasional emails during the first few weeks of the holidays (from The Creep's friends) reminding me of the 'pure' and 'undying' love that i should 'claim before it was too late', but other than that i managed to avoid the awkwardness and embarrassment of the entire situation. in 10th grade everything was pretty much normal and it seemed like all was forgotten over the course of the summer. that, or the fact that i switched buses.

when i moved back to Pakistan from Dubai, i missed a lot of people, and still do. i'm happy to inform everyone that The Creep is not one of them. and guess what? i recently got a message (from a friend of The Creep, hah) that The Creep is sorry about everything and he wants my 'forgiveness', and that he 'still loves me'. do you know what i replied?

i ain't forgivin' you, SUCKAAAAA! :D

JK, i'm not that mean. i didn't reply at all, because i didn't want to instigate any kind of revival of the crazy infatuation that guy had over me. though according to his friends, the flame of infatuation never died down. say it with me: ew.

x

two hundred followers? does anyone remember when i was the loser who blogged about worthless things? well HAHAHA. thank you Saad, for being the 200th :D and thank you everyone, for getting me this far. i love you all more than i love cats, and that's saying something. party in the house, DRINKS ON ME*!!!!

*orange juice

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

The neverending awkwardness.

Home 1
mum: don't you take that tone with me, young lady! otherwise i'll get you married!
me: ...

Home 2
my brother: i hope you get married soon.
me: why?!
my brother: so that your husband can play PlayStation 3 with me since you're no good at it.
me: ...

Relative's Place 1
old lady who i'm somehow related to: my dear you have grown up so much!
dad: yes, she has, hasn't she?
old lady w.i.s.r.t.: how old are you now, child?
me: seventeen.
old lady w.i.s.r.t.: *gasps* seventeen! we must get you married immediately!
dad: *grins*
me: ...

Relative's Place 2
Aunt: who are you texting?
me: nobody.
Aunt: ohhhhh, i see.
me: i'm not texting anybody.
Aunt: boyfriend, eh? *winks*
me: ...

(i was not texting anyone. forgive me if checking my cellphone for the time is Heinous Crime #1)

Work 1
young teacher (she's 21): i haven't seen you for so long even though we work in the same building!
me: i know, i barely get time to come down to the basement anymore.
young teacher: so, how have you been?
me: pretty much normal, you?
young teacher: i've been great. anything new?
me: not really.
young teacher: nothing? but there must be something. eh eh? *sly grin*
me: *confused* no, not really.
young teacher: nothiiiiiing? *wiggles eyebrows*
me: ... no.
young teacher: well my relationship has been going great. me and him meet every single day!
me: *realization dawns* oh.
young teacher: so, have anything to tell me?
me: no.
young teacher: *eyeroll*

Work 2
Random Teacher: oh wow, you look lovely today!
me: really? thank you!
Random Teacher: really. you look absolutely radiant!
me: aww, thanks.
Random Teacher: you look like you're in love!
me: ...

Work 3
student: Miss where is your husband?
me: i don't have a husband.
student: why? did he die?
me: no, i'm not married.
student: then how come you are a teacher, Miss?
me: ...

WHAT DO THEY WANT FROM ME?!