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.


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!!!!!!!!


Friday, October 21, 2011

weight & health

Weight issues are something that I have never had. I’ve always been content with how much I weigh and how I look. I had always been chubby during my childhood and my early teen years, but I had never let that affect my eating habits or my self esteem.

Recently, a lot of people have been telling me that I’ve gained weight. This doesn’t exactly bother me in terms of appearance, but I am slightly concerned about how this is affecting my health.

Since this past month (and a little before that), I have fallen victim to ‘comfort food’, a term used for food eaten when in need of something to distract oneself in tension/sadness. This means I have been stacking up on French fries, ice cream, cookies, candy, popcorn and soft drinks more than I ought to whenever I feel a little stressed out at work.

At first I thought a little comfort food wouldn’t make a difference. But when I actually took a few moments to think about it (and when comments about my weight kept increasing), I realized that I was unnecessarily consuming most of these things. I was gorging on junk when I wasn’t even hungry. I had replaced my intake of water with Pepsi or 7up. In school, we’re teaching the students about ‘healthy foods’. We even got a doctor to come and make a presentation about how healthy and junk foods affect our bodies. That simple Kindergarten unit made me think about what I eat and how much of it affects my body in a negative way. To be completely honest, I have been feeling a little lazier and heavier than usual these days.

Getting to the point, I don’t mind being a little chubby, regardless of how many times my brother calls me ‘fatty’ and how random relatives tell me that my face has become rounder than before and how my tummy looks ‘fuller’ than it usually used to. What I really want to do is take care of myself. This will be easy if I cut down on all the unnecessary junk food I eat. I don’t think I need to have fries and ice cream and soft drinks EVERY day.

My mum told me that I should exercise a bit after coming home from school. A few months ago I used to work out at home quite a lot, and that helped me keep myself feeling good and active. I think I should take that up again. Apart from toning me, it’ll help in exerting all the negative energy I have in a productive way.

The reason I posted about this here is because I need a little motivation to get things going. I don't really care about the numbers on the scale, it's just the feeling of being fit that I want to get back again. I need positive vibes from all of you and honestly I think it’ll really help if you all could encourage me in staying healthy.

Plus, if my effort and your encouragement result in me actually becoming slimmer and sexier, then that’s really great, don’t you think? :D
Much love. 

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.

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

one of those surprisingly eventful days

summer holidays are awfully boring. i can't wait for school to start so that i can get back to work. i can totally feel all my productive juices leaking out of my brain.


my dad had suddenly decided that he wanted to show off his cooking skills to the entire family and make biryani, from scratch. since this has never happened before, my mum, brother and i jumped at the opportunity and made a plan to have some family time with my uncle and aunt (dad's brother and his wife) by hanging out in a mall, leaving my dad all alone (at my uncle's house) to cook.

LOL i just realized how mean that was of us.

anyway, we went to the mall. my brother and i barely ever hang out with my uncle and aunt (even though they are both in their 20s and not too uncool) so it was pretty nice roaming around and spending time together, as a family. the first stop we made was at the bookstore, where i got this:

Duma Key by Stephen King. :D i was actually looking for some of his really popular books like 'Salems Lot, Firestarter, Carrie etc but this was the only Stephen King book they had (apart from Under The Dome which didn't appeal to me much). but whatever, IT'S A BOOK! I LOVE BOOKS! OM NOM NOM.

then, we went into this cool watch store where i passed a (truthful) remark about how it's been a whole year since i've worn a watch. this led my uncle to insist on my choosing a watch so that he could buy it for me. i chose this:

it's purple, yay! and it's a watch. i like purple, and i like watches. so, major win in that department.

after that we just roamed around aimlessly, doing what we know best: WINDOW SHOPPING. we looked at bags, shoes, clothes, jewelry and tons of other stuff but didn't buy anything apart from the book and watch.

then, it was time to go back to my uncle's place, where my dad was all alone, shedding sweat, blood and tears to create the perfect biryani. it looked pretty good (i forgot to take pictures of it, trust me to be so careless -.-). but since dinner time was a while away, i got to hang out with my aunt's moody yet super adorable kitty.

my brother is holding her here.


finally, it was time to eat dinner. my dad wasn't nervous at all, considering it was the first time everyone was eating something that he cooked. he was like, "LOOK AT THE RICE! AND THE MEAT! AND THE POTATOES! IT'S ALL SO PERFECT!" and everyone else was like, "OKAYLET'SEATPLEASE" which we did, and it turned out to be pretty good. yay :D my dad was happy and wasn't modest at all about his achievement.

then, we ate some strawberry ice cream, and it was time to go home. i didn't expect a regular mid-vacation sunday to be much fun, but this was different. hurray!


i wasn't going to add more to this post, but apparently some people think that making a blog about myself is the stupidest thing i could do.
whatever your preference is, i don't really believe in picking on someone specifically because they write about stuff that is none of your interest.

(just assuming here)

in response to their lovely opinion:
i like talking about myself.

Thursday, June 23, 2011

some people are just a FAIL at life

let me tell you something.

i have a hope. a gleaming, shining, sparkling hope that one day, everyone whom i know will have gained some intelligence and therefore be a pleasure for me to associate with.
one day, everybody will be able to hold a smart conversation and be fun to talk to.
one day, everyone will be able to spell correctly and make no major grammatical errors in their general life.

one day...

... f0Rg3t !t.


so yeah, i was greeted by ^THAT on my facebook homepage yesterday. it really sucks because i barely use facebook and when i do, i have the utmost displeasure of witnessing a few of my acquaintances showing off their tYpInG SkIlLzx to the world. *shudders*

for me, slang is something i usually do not pay much attention to. a lot of people i know and love use slang. they like to shorten words and use popular abbreviations instead of typing out the correct spelling.
now, i don't really have a major problem with people who use slang like this:

because you know, a person who writes like this most probably doesn't want to waste any time in expressing how cute they think a random orange-haired girl is. they shorten their words to save time. at least their short forms are understandable.

but when it comes to stuff like this, i DO pay attention:

yeah. IF YOU TYPE LIKE THIS, I WILL FIND YOU AND KILL YOU. i do not see any point in elongating a word and adding extra letters to it, especially when the word in question is something that looks completely fine on its own and is relatively easier to type.

another thing that extremely annoys me is when people use alternative (and nonexistent) spellings as different versions of words, which are essentially useless because they have the same amount of alphabets as the original word.

unfortunate and totally real examples:
you = yew
cool = kewl
loser = luxer
know = knoe
time = tyme

DUDE WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM. or should i say 'prawblm'? yeah, WOT IX UR PR0BLM HUH?! this kind of stuff looks gruesome. towtaly grewsumm.

there is only one suitable picture to express the way i feel whenever i come across all the above stuff, and that is this:

true story.

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.

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.


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.


this is a repost.  i added the drawings.

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

The Staffroom Grapevine - Part 2

there is always someone in our lives whom everybody can live without. an aunt, a classmate, a neighbor, a celebrity figure.
for me, that person is *drumroll*

The Bully.

she terrorizes the staffroom like no other. she prowls around the corridors and preys on unsuspecting innocent creatures (like ME) and does what she does best:


now, you must be thinking, "a teacher being a bully? what is that all about?"
(okay, maybe you're not thinking that. but whatever. you should, so that the following sentence is of use to you:)

YES. The Bully is the only teacher in the school whom i would gladly like to see resign and perhaps join the navy and be shipped off to Antarctica to live with penguins.

The Bully is tall, fair, blonde(ish) and 50-something years old. when she enters the Staffroom, all the teachers that happen to be present there avert her gaze, hoping and praying that she doesn't strike up a conversation with them. because unlike normal chit-chat and banter, this is what The Bully talks about:

"my daughter and her husband are having a grand time vacationing in Italy! where have YOUR children been for their holidays?"
"my grandchildren say the funniest things. they love how active i am with them! all my other friends praise me for how fit i look. what diet are you on? are you even on a diet?"
"i'm renovating my house in London. you hear that? LONDON. do you know how expensive it is? oh, maybe you don't. what kind of properties do you own?"
"your earrings are lovely! i had a similar pair a couple of years ago when they were in style. i sold them off a while back at a cheap price, because that's what they are now, don't you agree? how much gold have you bought this year?"

apart from all of her showing-off and nosiness, you know what is really perturbing?
the fact that she has got her eyes on ME.
why me?
because i'm her favourite victim.
why am i her favourite victim?
(okay, i need to stop asking so many questions)

because I'M THE YOUNGEST. all my life i've been taught to treat all adults with respect, which has gotten me into loads of tricky situations recently. being a teacher's assistant, i am obligated to help my fellow faculty members in whichever way i can, ONLY if it concerns actual work related to the syllabus.

The Bully takes advantage of my position and asks me to do stuff totally unrelated to what i am employed for.

example 1:
The Bully: come here!
me: yes?
The Bully: get me a glass of water!

example 2:
The Bully: come here!
me: yes?
The Bully: carry my bag for me!

(i-wish-this-were-an) example 3:
The Bully: come here!
me: *runs away screaming*

i am not a personal assistant. my job is teaching children specific parts of their syllabus, NOT carrying other teachers' stuff around like a peon. i know, i should stand up for myself and learn to say 'no', but that 'no' could get me fired. The Bully has been around for 9 years, and since this is only my first year, i have almost no right to point out how unfair she is most of the time. plus, she's an adult. and old adult. i am nothing but a duckling in front of her dinosaur-ness, which in The Bully's eyes translates into me being too inexperienced to even open my mouth.

maybe one day, when i'm a proper lady and The Bully announces her retirement, i shall tell her how mean she has been to me, and how i have silently burdened myself with all the things she has asked me to do for her. she'll probably have this reply ready for me:

"well, at least i'm rich."

yeah and then i'll only have your support to help me get over it, haha.


click here to read The Staffroom Grapevine - Part 1

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.


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:
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. 


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.

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.


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

Saturday, April 9, 2011

My Biggest Fear

it's bad.

it's awful.

it's horrible.

it's terrifying.

it's mortifying.

my biggest fear has been realized.



that's right, everyone. if there's one thing in this world that i absolutely loadespate (loathe + despise + hate), it's someone invading my personal space and wiggling their fingers around a 975180423 mm radius of me. *cringes*

it's not tickling, it's torture. what totally annoys me is that people don't realize what kind of trauma i go through at even the thought of being attacked subjected to that kind of action. my fear is so bad, it can actually be classified as a phobia (Pteronophobia).

what's worse than the thought is the actual reaction. it's not the regular "ooh haha don't you dare tickle me, dearie" type at all. it goes something like this:

Evil Human: hey Furree Katt i'm going to tickle you!
Me: *starts crying*

i'm not kidding. most of my family avoids tickling me now. i have a deathly fear of those who don't think it's as serious as i claim it to be, especially when they try to have a little fun and tickle me when i'm with them in enclosed spaces (elevators, cars). 

the reason i'm spilling out my deepest, darkest secret to you tonight is because something really awful happened a few days back and i wouldn't have been able to share it with you without giving you all the above details.

The Day My Fear Turned Into A Real Life Monster With An Incentive To Kill:

DO NOT BE FOOLED BY HIS INNOCENT SPARKLY EYES AND CHARMING HALF-SMILE. this boy was once my favourite student (never again, i tell you. NEVER. AGAIN). till the day he decided to ask me the question i've always dreaded:

"are you ticklish?"

i responded with the usual answer:


he shrugged and walked away.

i thought that was the end of the entire scene. little did i know (lol, i've always wanted to use that phrase!), that disaster was waiting to unfold.

towards the end of the school day, when everyone was done with their work and we were sippin' on our Rose hanging out in the classroom with nothing to do, i stood up from where i was sitting with the intention of going to the teacher's bathroom to wash my face because i was in danger of falling asleep. turns out i didn't need a fat splash of water to wake me up, because as soon as i took a step in the direction of the classroom door, two tiny hands slithered on my waist from behind and eight fingers and two thumbs began their horrendous wiggling.

at first i didn't register what was happening. i attempted to take another step forward but i couldn't, because the little boy had his arms around me and had latched himself on tightly. when i finally realized what was going on i let out a massive 'NOOOOOOOOOO' which was so high-pitched it sounded like this:


needless to say, no one rushed to my assistance because:
- they were all little kids.
- they were too busy laughing at my plight.

i was in an awful situation. i couldn't do anything drastic (shake him off vigorously, smack him) because i would be in danger of violating the Teacher's Useless Be-Nice-To-Evil-Children-No-Matter-What Code of Conduct. in between the squealing and cringing i was doing, i felt a tear escape my left eye. i feel ashamed to admit it, but yes, 'twas a very difficult time.

anyway, all this must have lasted about fifteen seconds, because right then my coordinator walked into the classroom and witnessed the horror. she then let out a giant bellow (she's allowed to shout and scream because she's the coordinator, *oohs and aahs*) which resulted in immediate relief for me as the little monster let go of me in an instant and ran back to his designated seat. the coordinator began telling him off for his behavior, tactfully not looking at me so that i could have a moment to wipe my tears (i will forever be grateful to her for that). right after that the home-time bell rang and i ran out of the classroom as fast as my short legs would take me.


and that, my dear BBFs (blog buddies forever - clever? :D i made it up. muahaha) was the most traumatic experience i have had with a student of mine. there are way more horrific situations i have had to deal with concerning tickling, but when it comes to work, this one takes the cake. and the entire buffet.

lessons learned:
- expel any student who asks if you're ticklish, so that they don't get a chance to do the deed
- go to work equipped with a taser  

and yeah, that's about it. if any of you even think of tickling me at any point, our friendship/blogship is over. goodnight.

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: ...

Saturday, March 12, 2011

The Staffroom Grapevine - Part 1

being the youngest member of the faculty where i work, i've been subjected to many different kinds of behavior from the other teachers, varying from being cuddled, teased, advised and loved to being downright bullied. i've been thinking that since i always post about my students, i should share some experiences on my blog that i've had with my colleagues, too.
so, i've decided to make a series, where i shall post about any funny/adorable/horrible experiences that i've had with certain teachers. since i'm really awful at timings, i won't fix a day of the week to post a part of the series. instead, i'll post whenever i feel like, and whenever i remember an experience worthy of being posted here :D
okay. i'm starting now. *drumroll*


being a teacher is loads of fun. i get to work in an amazing environment. i adore all the children i teach, and feel totally awesome that i'm contributing to their knowledge and helping them shape their future.

there's a completely different side of being a teacher where i work, though. i won't call it the dark or ugly side, because i'm not advertising fairness cream. this side is called:

The Staffroom Grapevine.

that's right. the school staffroom is one of the scariest places i have encountered in my entire life. the teachers gather there like a flock of vultures in their free time and discuss things.
what things?
by evil things, i mean 'gossip'. gossip is the one thing that can (rarely) make and (surely) break a person's reputation. usually the subject of their gossip is... *gasp* ANOTHER TEACHER.
yes, certain teachers can be cruel like that.

though not all of the teachers in the school visit the staffroom, majority of them do, which is why i've decided to collectively call whatever they do a part of The Staffroom Grapevine.

i'm going to describe one particular character without whom the staffroom would not be the same:

The Gossipy Aunty.

(the only reason that i'm calling her The Gossipy Aunty is because i can't think of any other alias for her.)

The Gossipy Aunty is one of a kind. she wears tons of makeup and prefers wearing jeans and a tee instead of standard shalwar-kameez. she's a subject teacher, which means that she isn't a teacher of a particular classroom. when she enters the staffroom, all heads turn and every teacher in her presence greets here like she's their BFF. truth is, no matter how much the other teachers feel that they're on the best of terms with her, The Gossipy Aunty is nobody's friend. the second anyone steps out of the threshold of the staffroom, The Gossipy Aunty starts gossiping about them like there's no tomorrow.
an example; 

Random Insignificant Teacher: hello!
The Gossipy Aunty: oh hi darling, how are you?
Random Insignificant Teacher: i'm f-
The Gossipy Aunty: uff! the kids from classroom so-and-so drove me crazy today. doesn't help that their class teacher doesn't know how to control them. in my opinion, she should be fired. you know she's more interested in what everyone else is wearing? truly despicable.
Random Insignificant Teacher: oh, really? i thought-
The Gossipy Aunty: no, dear. that's what it is. you don't know her like i do.
Random Insignificant Teacher: i see. well i must be off-
The Gossipy Aunty: yes of course, you have to teach those brats now! good luck, dear. off you go. talk to you later. ta!
*Random Insignificant Teacher exits*
The Gossipy Aunty: *turns to face the rest of the teachers of the staffroom* you know what i heard about the Random Insignificant Teacher a while ago? it's too much, really.

I SWEAR, this kind of stuff actually happens. The Gossipy Aunty will talk about anybody and everybody. what baffles me is that the other teachers haven't caught on the fact that if The Gossipy Aunty talks about everyone, she must be talking about them, too. the rest of the teachers are hypnotized by the tales of others' misfortunes, regaled by The Gossipy Aunty herself.

though i haven't really been in the staffroom of any other school, i'm pretty sure the amount of gossip that the school where i work in has can be found nowhere else.


there are loads of other interesting characters that i've saved up for later posts :D i would really appreciate your opinion on this series (it's the first one i've made based on my personal experiences!) and whether you would like me to continue with this or not.

love you all!