There’s this Google training/
workshop thing that my company is sponsoring for us to go since it’s highly
relevant for our jobs as campaign managers, taking place on Friday itself. It’s
all the way in Singapore though, so we will be heading to Johor tomorrow
evening, and by Friday early morning we will be able to go straight into
Singapore to have our full-day trainings. I will only be back by Saturday late
night, and so that’s 3 days in total of being in an unfamiliar place with
unfamiliar people and –
I cannot. I do not want to. But it’s part of an adult life thing –
responsibilities, and so I have to.
Sure, there’s the fact that I get quite anxious when I am somewhere I don’t
really know, which gets a little worse – who am I kidding, it’s significantly
worse – when I don’t have my personal human with me. I like to hold his arm or
clutch the back of his shirt when I need to go through big crowds and noisy
places. While I’m afraid of a lot of things, he doesn’t get scared easily and
that is definitely one of the traits that makes me feel very safe around him.
He knows when I feel uncomfortable and would try to comfort me by holding my
hand or just give me gentle pats on my back. I don’t know what magic he uses,
but it works.
Then there’s money. Malaysia’s currency is pretty much down the shithole
at the moment, and so to bring a little bit of cash to Singapore just in case I
need it, I had to use RM308 to get myself SGD100. I’m broke enough as it is.
Hell, with my man directing his money towards his beloved car and me spending
it God knows where, we are both broke as fuck…
… Which is why we came up with an idea of making something like a
GoFundMe platform but in MYR. I don’t know if it exists already, I didn’t even
bother to do a Google search, but just imagine. We don’t need to pay in USD or
through Paypal which is a great start already. Maybe we can take 10% of the
total funding if you manage to hit and exceed your funding target, and if
people from countries with big currencies decide to donate even USD1 for
example, we are richer by RM4 already. A lot of GoFundMe pages are capable of
gaining thousands of USD if not more. Now imagine if those kind people fund you
for a drawing tablet you need for your studies but can’t afford at RM800. You
only need USD200 for that. Sounds a lot more doable doesn’t it? You just need
to share a link on your Facebook profile/page, Twitter, or whichever social
media platform that you have more connections on. Perhaps we could feature a
standard weekly or fortnightly currency exchange rate on the page so that
people from all around the world would know how much exactly they are donating
in their own currency.
If anything, it would be nice if I can start getting funding to get a
proper house for my man and I. Nothing fancy, just an apartment. Landed
properties are costing too much at this point for us to afford in a 5-years
timeframe. If possible I really do want to get my own place in 3 years or so.
AND SO WITHOUT FURTHER ADO,
Please.
Fund me. Fund a broke-ass fresh graduate.
See how it works on GoGetFunding.com
'应酬' (Yìng chóu) - This Whole Courtesy Thing
- November 27, 2017
- By Tatoru Yuki
- 0 Comments
There's a term in Chinese, '应酬' (Yìng chóu) which roughly translates to 'treating someone with courtesy' or in a rather crude way could even been seen as 'kiss-ass', usually involved with working environments. If you have to meet up with your manager or boss for a drink even though sometimes you might not want to, that's 应酬. You go for a party with your colleagues and stay later than you wanted to because your social battery has run out 100%, that's 应酬. If someone keeps offering you to take something, you might eventually accept it simply because it's politer than if you kept rejecting.
Basically, you are doing something that you don't really want to in the name of courtesy and out of respect for those people in management positions or some other posts.
That's what my man did last night after leaving my place. He had to collect some work stuff from a 'friend', who asked him to go for a drink. My man tried rejecting, explaining that it was already getting late and he has to go for classes tomorrow so it was better not to drink. The friend's response was to bring him to a pub nearer to his house instead and so he had to go; there was no escape. There’s just some things that you would have to do for your business.
He apologized to me when he finally got home. Although he didn't do anything or request for one, his friend ordered for a bucket of alcohol and had a pub girl accompany him for those drinks. My man had to drink some even if he didn’t really want to.
Of course I didn’t like the fact that he went to that kind of place at all, and even more so since he went out looking real good and there would certainly be girls eyeing him there (Those girls are really just doing their jobs, I know, but still). I didn’t like the thoughts of other girls clinging on him or touching him either, and so I was a little upset when he told me where he got home from.
My boy was very very upset too, however. He knew I wasn’t going to be happy about it and knowing that made HIM upset in return. You see, both of us don’t like each other going to places involving alcohol and touchy people – which is something that’s inevitable in places like clubs and pubs. Hell, we don’t even like going to those places ourselves; Mostly because we know, acknowledge and respect the other’s preferences not to mingle around in those places, and partly because it was simply too noisy & crowded most of the time.
So while I was feeling all sad and pouty about the whole incident, he was feeling bad about his job sometimes requiring him to do things that he knows I wouldn’t be happy with. I know he didn’t exactly have a choice though, so I tried to rationalize with myself to make that upset feeling go away. After all, he’s the most loyal boy I have ever known and he told me about whatever that happened and what did not. I appreciated the honesty. The rest of the night was filled with profuse apologies and comforting each other until we finally went to sleep because we were just so tired at the end of the long, long day.
Well, that’s our story on this whole 应酬thing. What’s your experience with things you had to do out of courtesy?
13thSeptember 2015, 4 days before we were officially a couple for one month, we went to KLCC for a nice date. I told him I was going to bring him out for a date since September was apparently ‘Bring your man on a date’ month or something. Well, the haze was terrible at that time but we braved the weather and went through with the public transportation anyway.
He turned up in a proper buttoned up shirt and all for the first (never seen him wear it again up till today!) time while I dressed in completely… my style. While he was probably thinking that it would be an expected gesture to at least look nice for our date, I was on the other side thinking it was better not to be overdressed and try to match his usual style of clothings.
So there he was, wearing buttoned shirt and a nice pair of blue jeans when he usually would just wear an oversized T-shirt that somehow still fits him well and baggy pants. I was wearing this grey singlet-ish thing with army pants. Our thoughts totally clashed in the worst of ways!
Anyways, we brought out our printed version of terms & conditions that day. It started out as a joke, then impulsively, I decided I was going to type out a proper terms and conditions paper for our relationship. He was sporty, and decided like, ‘sure, let’s just do it then’. Mine was 4 pages long, and his was 2.
It included things like:
- Our arguments must be resolved within 24 hours (nope)
- Termination of contract may occur if any form of cheating occurs (still applies)
- There will be 😉 practical lessons 😉but further 'classes' will only be accessible after upgrade of relationship (uh… too late)
- No serious talk about marriage until we have been together for at least 2 years (We talked about it anyways, so long ago)
- Your ass is mine and only mine (Damn right y’alls)
- We do our best not to make each other jealous (this one is kept very well)
- No smoking (vaping is slightly better I guess)
- Try not to make each other worry, keep each other informed (still do)
- His duties as my babe – odd jobs, bodyguard, punchbag (he kills insects for me, swerved an incoming football away from me & lets me bite him)
- No refunds, no backing out. (never letting you go, boy)
- We should have a small celebration treat on monthsaries, a slice of cake or a cup of coffee etc (Nahhh it’s comfort foods now)
And a lot more. I mean, there were at least 2 pages in the ‘contracts’ and mine was divided into several sections after referring to actual terms & conditions documents that I never even bothered reading at any single point before.
So yes, we printed it out and at one point while walking around aimlessly in the mall, we sat down on one of the benches, read through the agreements and signed at the signature area. We kept a copy of our own agreements and the other’s, so we both have two agreements each.
If anything, this kind of uh... couples’ agreement, relationship terms & conditions of whatever else you want to name it can be fun. All else aside, it can also be a way to get to know what your partner prioritizes or hopes for.
It’s been 2 years since that term & condition paper was written, maybe it’s time to write a renewed one based on what we now know about each other. Hmmm~
The Story Behind Pohmahtoe |
It all started with Ask.fm and if you weren’t familiar with that website, it’s basically a site that lets you ask questions anonymously (or not) to anyone with an account there. You can share your Ask profile by sharing the URL on your social media, and you might get some questions. Sometimes you get ‘questions’ like ‘hi’ and ‘guess who?’ but other times you might get creepy or weird questions, so on and so forth.
When I have just added Monkey on Facebook, I just only barely knew him. He was a parkour coach at Sunway University, and all I knew was that he was 18 and he’s crazy with his parkour skills. Having the friend request accepted and his Facebook profile now stalka- ahem, viewable, I saw that he recently shared an ask.fm link.
I was free, unoccupied. So I clicked in and started sending him random questions and greetings; including things like:
“I’m gay and I like you.” – How to Misdirect 101
“Boobs or butts?” – Just because I can.
“You’re cute just accept the compliments” – Flirting with him before I even knew that’s a flirt
“Next time parkour activity take your shirt off” – He looks good, don’t judge
“Intro pretty parkour girls pls” – Sounding like a despo guy?
“Are you a top or bottom?” – He was too innocent to understand
“ICE CREAM OR CAKE QUICK QUICK QUICK” – Throwing him off balance
It was fun because he had no way of guessing who I was, even more so since I wasn’t really close with him either. I could just keep spamming question after question, which he seemed to be enjoying answering. The questions went on for about 2 days, and on the 2nd day I submitted an ask that told him to inbox me ‘I know who you are” if he ever figured out who I was. He would know he’s correct if I replied with ‘Pohmahtoe”.
The questions weren’t going anywhere without any hints of who I was though, so I gave him two hints. After some thoughts, I told him that I am a female, thinking that it shouldn’t be that much easier for him since there’s still a lot of females out there.
Turns out he doesn’t really talk to or interact with girls.
When I gave him the 2nd clue, which was that I am not very close with him yet, he immediately knew who I was, and the game was over. The game was too short! But there was nothing I could have done really, those hints were super generic in nature and I didn’t know that those two clues would lead him to me immediately.
He did though, and the Q&A session we had helped us bond a bit. We started talking more and more after that. I suppose that ask.fm profile share link on Facebook helped me get close to my man at the beginning, in a manner of speaking.
I found it amusing how in the 2nd clue I gave him, I left a remark sounding something like, “Just to clarify, due to the nature of some of my questions to you earlier, I do not have a crush on you.”
In hindsight, I probably spoke a bit too soon about that.
Monkey is my third partner.
I had two exes; first of which was from another state that I saw up to 5 times a year at most and I never really got comfortable being physically around due to growing up in a girl school and all. I was and still am a slow learner when it comes to relationships, and that one year plus duration with little time around each other was not enough for me to learn what a relationship should be like. One day when I was 17 and close to having an important exam, he decided he was tired and he doesn’t love me anymore, and he broke up with me over a text. I cried the whole way to school in the school bus while other passengers were sleeping, and one of my best friends comforted me.
On my 18thbirthday, I got together with a friend’s ex, something foolish to do for various reasons than just the obvious. By our 6th month together he has been through with two other girls, and although I gave him one chance when it first happened, I asked to just break up the second time because I could tell he wasn’t interested anymore and it would just keep happening. I knew this would happen, and I thought I could try to ‘play around’, not put too much emotions into it because while he was together with my friend he asked for my help to ask another super pretty friend of mine what she thought about him, that very friend who comforted me when I broke up with my first ex. He likes her. I was barely even 19 when that relationship ended. I didn’t cry.
When I got to know monkey, things were okay for a while. Then one day, he found out that while he has been heartbroken over his 3rd ex, thinking that they could still have a chance together, that said ex was with someone else very shortly after she left him. You can probably guess what happened if a person breaks up with someone only to go with someone else immediately. We all know. He fell to a very low point; refusing to talk to people, getting insomnia, driving around trying to feel better. I thought I was already super close to him and I kept trying to get him to talk. He finally told me what happened. He sounded like how the most of us would when things like that happen; Dejected, angry, upset, no longer trustful with anyone and especially this whole thing called ‘love’.
“Relationships aren’t worth it, there’s no point to it, it wouldn’t last anyways. You’re giving so much for nothing in return. There’s just no point.” Etc etc. You get the idea. I asked him to give me a chance to prove him wrong if he willing to and only if he felt that he’s ready. Studying a little bit of psychology, I believed that if all else fails, I could try to shock him through that sudden message he probably never expected for him to snap out of it. I think that worked a little.
One time, it was so hazy out but he still came over and brought me out for a date! |
Anyway, that turning point opened the door to so much more possibilities and plenty of good in relationships that I never really experienced. He willingly drives over half an hour or so to come and visit me whenever he could, without me asking him to meet up. He’d ask me if there were any movies I wanted to watch, and bring me out and about. He even tried to pay for my meals, which I am aware is a relatively normal thing but something I was not used to nevertheless. I was very confused about it all at the beginning. To put it frankly, I was not expecting all the nice things he was going to be doing throughout our relationship from the very beginning.
“You are spending a lot of time with me. Is this really what you want? You don’t have to, you know?” I was concerned that he was using up his money to get more petrol for the trip to my area, getting strained or tired from all that driving almost 3 to 4 times a week. I was worried that he was spending time with me out of obligation, and that he felt I was a clingy person. I was wrong though, I didn’t have to worry at all. He spent time with me because he wanted to, just like I did. This was something so simple, something that seem to be so very normal among couples and yet at that point, a completely new concept to me. He was genuinely nice to me, and I realized what I have been missing out in my past relationships.
He always asked me what made him different, and why I insist on being with him as much as I did throughout our relationship issues. I can't pin down exactly why, and all I could tell him was 'because it's you. Specifically, you." I'm definitely not the best at showing my appreciation for all his efforts, but I'm always grateful when he shows up at my door after his classes or work, smiling, telling me he's going to be spending a few hours with me that evening.
Above all things, the time he puts aside for me is something that I am most grateful for. As busy as he gets, there’s always text messages at the very least, and on days when there’s enough time even now when he’s having morning classes, he’d meet up with me for breakfast near my house before he goes on his way to the campus about 20 minutes away.
He spares his time for me and that’s all the difference I needed, even if I didn’t know it at first.
Thank you baby 💖
Try to think of any friends you know, guy friends, that are really innocent. First kiss still not given to anyone, 100% celibate and might or might not have nosebleeds easily when actually exposed to something 18+ because he’s that inexperienced, doesn’t understand most dirty jokes you tell, looks away all shy and blushing a little if you start having a talk with him about something 18+…
This is getting super tough to imagine, isn’t it?
That was the state I found my man in when I first got to know him. He was a gem; A precious diamond in the rough. A species that for me was on the same par with unicorns; imaginary, doesn’t exist.
I have always been the one to, in a manner of speaking, corrupt friends around me. Give me someone prim and proper, shy and innocent, and after 3 months or so of being friends with me, I can assure you he/she is going to be the nastiest people you’d ever know. No shame about this. I’m a proud momma.
I only found out that he hasn’t given away his first kiss yet a short while into our relationship. At that point, I myself wasn’t experienced either, being a shy person myself even though I talk a lot of shit. At one point, I asked him if he was going to be okay with me taking his first kiss.
“I wouldn’t mind if it’s you,” he told me. Ahh, my sweet boy.
A photo we took on that day. Look at that hovering hand 😂 |
It was just such a weird concept that a guy like him would still have his first kiss, and I looked at his lips. His eyes were still closed. I gave him the super Asian eyes. You know, when you pull the skin near your eyes towards your temple sort of thing. He definitely couldn’t see anything when I did that.
I had never felt the urge to kiss anyone before then, yet at that moment I did and so I just kissed him. His lips were very soft. It felt nice.
Before I could discern anything more – it probably lasted only a second or two, he pulled away, shocked, eyes opened wide, moving back awkwardly for a step or two since he was still somewhat sitting down. That surprise was so clear on his face that I still remember it with fondness now.
“I was not expecting that!” He exclaimed.
“I’m sorry I gave you such a shock,” I apologized. “You weren’t okay with that?”
“No, I am okay with it. I just… didn’t expect that you would do that.”
Pure shock. Poor boy.
As shy as he was though, he stopped me in my tracks just at the top of the staircase and kissed me before he went home. That’s when I became the shy one, although I think we were both super shy at that moment, heart racing and all. He reached out to hold my hand then, and all was well.
Ahh, my sweet, sweet summer child. That innocence is long gone now. He didn’t even have a chance to wave goodbye to it. Definitely writing more about his innocence.
Not Drunk |
You know how everyone has their own stories that they aren’t too proud to talk about? Drunken calls and messages, a huge brainfart that caused you to do or say something that you wouldn’t have ever dreamt of doing in a sober mode, things like that.
To give you an idea of what you can expect in this blog post, here’s this one-liner:
I can’t drink for shit.
My man knows that, and I know that very well even though I am in denial about it sometimes.
2 years back when I first touched alcohol, it was just Somersby’s Apple Cider. I loved the taste, what with it being sweet and all. I remember looking at the label and going, “It’s just 5% alcohol. No big deal. I’m sure it’s going to be just fine.” Mad confidence and shit.
Next thing I knew my face was red like an apple and I was making exaggerated movements.
“My heart’s beating really fast. Am I going to die?”
“It’s getting really hot. Can you check if I have a fever?”
“*loud laughter* Wait whaaaaaaat HAHAHAH”
I definitely felt that alcohol-induced lowered inhibitions, to say the least.
Fast forward to that party when I have apparently drunk almost one bottle of red wine as a result of losing quite a lot in this card game thing I was playing. I was telling my boy I was fine, then flopping around to prove just how fine I was feeling.
First party thing we went to. |
“Why are body movements going more than I intended? I wanted to move my arm here *flings arms* but LOOK IT’S LIKE GOING MORE” I insisted that I wasn’t drunk because I was still conscious of what I was doing.
To prove THAT, I sobered up the second my mum called me phone. I picked it up and had a very sober-talk with my mother for like one full minute before collapsing back into a useless sack of alcohol-infused potato afterwards.
“See, I was NOT drunk.”
He wanted me to hold his dart case for him while we were both sitting cross-legged on the wooden floor, and I put my hand out to hold it like I was supposed to. Then suddenly, the duration of which I was supposed to hold it for became of crucial importance. The exchange went like this:
Boi: Bee, hold this for me please.
Me: *holds, starting intently at the dart case*
Me: … For how long?
Boi: *looks at me*
Boi: Never mind. *takes it back out of my still-outstretched hand*
Boi: … Put your hand down..?
Me: *literally lets my hand just flop down, slamming onto the wooden floorboards*
Me: aaaaaAAAHHHH *baby whining voices*
Boi: Baaaaaabeee *facepalms*
Aftermath of first party attended. He was just asleep though. |
Meanwhile my man was sober as fuck. At another party like that, he drank a mug-shot of straight vodka, with ice and watermelon cubes and was fine afters. No sluggish talk, no tipsy laughing or anything like that.
In fact, he held a 7-second handstand.
Wait let me just stop here to let you guys know this important piece of information about my man.
I think he’s secretly a chameleon.
While the more normal ones of us would turn red after alcohol consumption, my man turns red first, then he somehow turns… darker??? And afterwards he turns a shade or two paler than his normal skin tone before recovering. No, I don’t understand either. I really don’t, even if I studied biology.
Then there’s this other time, way before I even knew he existed on this planet. Some people drunkenly try to hit on chicks or run into a wall, but not my man. He’s special.
He was in a club at said time.He was in a club at said time.He was in a club at said time.
You got to say important things thrice. Now try to imagine all sorts of drunken shit one can be up to while being physically located in a night club – girls, music, dance floor, more alcohol. Just imagine.
Done?
Okay. My man did not ask girls for their number, nor did he take his shirt off to dance all weird. Instead, he found some space in that club, and he did a backflip, just like a normal drunken person would. He’s good. *laughs*
Now, there’s going to be another party this week. He probably won’t drink at all if he was going to have to drive, but let’s see what happens.
No, not the actual TV series; It's literally a series of unfortunate events that happened in my life over the weekends.
Flood aftermath |
On Friday night, I was just looking forward for my babe to arrive to spend the weekend together. Around 10p.m. at night, he called me and said, "Pack up, we are going to Penang. We are going to that flood relief thing after all. I'll be driving the Hilux.” That’s how I ended up packing some bare necessities for the night when I was all prepared to snuggle in the comforts of my warm blanket.
That was one of the recent unfortunate events No. 1.
Briefing by the volunteer team |
One of the members of my man’s car group initiated the idea of the flood relief efforts, and that very night around 11pm after we had drinks and light snacks, my man and his friends headed to a member’s house to load several 4x4’s with supplies; boxes of canned biscuits and bottled water, baby pampers, a few mattresses that we could spare. That took some time, and when it was almost 3a.m. in the middle of the night, we started heading for Penang all the way from Selangor.
Them Car Dudessss |
Being a car team, they have no shortage of people who could take turn driving throughout the night. We arrived early in the morning around 8a.m. and had breakfast before we were redirected to the flood relief center around Bukit Mertajam area. We placed our donated items at the centre, where the volunteers would later systematically distribute the items to housing areas. It was already about 11a.m. by then, and we headed for lunch. We were all tired and sleepy from lack of sleep.
(Y) |
Stopping by Ipoh for their well-known chicken rice was a good rejuvenation, and we just couldn’t wait to go home to a comfy bed and knock out for the next 15 hours or so. We started going back. It was raining, and that’s never good when we need to drive around.
That’s when unfortunate event No. 2 happened.
Now I don’t know if this happens outside Malaysia but we have conmen who might or might not like to pour oil on the road – it’s certainly oil, poured in random spots around the road. You can tell from the colourful spectrum of liquid on the tar roads – to make cars lose control and crash (especially on rainy days). One of the warning signs of such events would be parked towing trucks and several other vehicles just idling nearby.
At time of this upcoming event, my man was driving. I can tell you right here and now that I have mad confidence in his driving skills. He’s level-headed and plans out his best moves under many scenarios that could unfold before him very quickly. He was driving at the fast lane, driving around 80-90kmph. That’s between 50-55 miles per hour for you Americans reading this. We were already sticking pretty damn close to the divider when this black proton waja started speeding really fast in the lane next to ours and cut into our lane. Not slowly with signal lights either, it’s just like he decided to take a turn right there and then.
Pressing on the brakes a little while siding more towards the divider did not help when the driver ahead of us continued to be so motherfucking blind – I curse your family and you, whoever you are. May your socks always be soggy and your car always double-parked with no phone numbers left around for you to call in this Malaysian community. May your car get crashed really badly and your insurance expired by then, too late for you to claim for the damages.
AND TO ADD ON: This fucker did not even stop after that crash happened. Drove straight on like the driver was heading towards hell urgently with the Devil on his/her tail.
AND TO ADD ON: This fucker did not even stop after that crash happened. Drove straight on like the driver was heading towards hell urgently with the Devil on his/her tail.
Shit happens. |
Anyways, we crashed into the divider head-first. We probably spun like 2 rounds before we stopped, although we didn’t flip over. All the while I was looking at my man from the backseat, tried to see how he’s handling the situation. No excessive or exaggerated swerving. Controlled movements, no signs of panic. I was just waiting for it to stop, wondering if we were going to flip over and how bad the damage was. The other passenger at the front was asleep when it happened, and soon woke up to a slight panic attack. He couldn’t breathe, probably from the shock. One plastic bag later he was good again.
5 seconds later the towing truck people and several others knocked on our car window. An ambulance was also nearby but we told them we were good. No one was injured. I didn’t even knock my head against the glass or anything. We weren’t hurt. We drove to the side of the road and called the other drivers who were already further ahead. While they were making their way back to the Tanjung Malim area, we tried to convince the conmen that we didn’t need their help.
My man called his parents, asked for the insurance company contact number and requested the insurance company’s towing services instead. The conmen only left after we gave them around RM50. “Just give us some ‘duit kopi’ (similar to bribing) and we will leave you guys alone.” The damage was pretty damn bad, although it was limited to the front of the car. The front passenger side door couldn’t open more than a quarter of the way either. I remember feeling alright for a while; I remember it was still raining when his friends finally arrived and I was waiting in the car, away from the rain.
Then I looked out of the back window and saw oncoming traffic still passing by quickly even though it was raining and that hit of panic came.
That could have been the first and last time my man and I came to Penang, or any trips to anywhere in that case; If the black car earlier had driven any more recklessly and the incoming traffic was busier than how it was when we crashed, things could have turned out so much worse; When accidents do inevitably happen, he does damage control and protect the passengers, channeling it all towards himself. I could have lost him if the circumstances were any worse.
Photo we took a while after arriving in Penang |
Before I knew it, I felt a huge lump in my throat and my vision blurred through the tears. Hell, it’s all here again now as I write it. My man apologized to me and made sure I was really alright. It was just the aftershock, really, I explained. He had his friends fetch me back home while he waited for the towing truck and other procedures; claiming insurance, making the police report, see where the car was going to be repaired, go home and get scolded by his mother. Yep.
I called my best friend, asking if she could come over because I was still feeling shaky and I knew that the house would be empty when I go back. My housemates usually go elsewhere for the weekend. She was taking care of her grandmother and was alone at home too, so she couldn’t come. But she waited for me to be home and we had a video-call. I was calmer by then and it was all good.
That was another first, definitely. Being in a car accident. That’s No.2 alright.
Newly released but I didn't know that |
Then yesterday I had to drop my phone and get a crack on my screen… which caused the bottom half of it to be totally unresponsive. I couldn’t even unlock my phone. So at 8pm, I headed out to get myself a new phone.
This unfortunate event no. 3 is very minor as compared to the 1stand 2nd one, but well… That’s RM699 gone either way; Right after I spent about RM500 online shopping for my mother, myself, my man and myself. I had to dig into my savings account, but uh… at least I have a savings account I guess.
I bought this new phone, Huawei Honor 6A Pro, within about 40 minutes inclusive of the time I took walking to and back from the shopping mall. Day 2 of using it, so far so good I suppose. 3GB RAM sure is a plus point.
Anyhoo, let’s hope that the upcoming days will be better. Maybe I should really start wearing bright colours to avoid catching more bad luck.
“Guys are super simple. They usually have these 3 basic needs to be happy: Money, women and cars or PCs,” Monkey explained to me while we were having breakfast earlier today before I headed for work. “A good woman that they can go home to, enough money to support their cars/gaming habits & their relationship, and their drug. It’s usually either gaming things or automotives.”
My man never strays far from his drug.
Like a lot of guys, he has this fierce passion for his car, a sedan Honda Civic EF with Japanese half-cut at the front. While we do eat outside a lot at the beginning of the relationship, fancy sushi places and nice café spots, expensive shopping malls window-shopping sessions and all the more, his income is now mostly channeled towards his other wife. Yes, that car.
He loves it so much that he couldn’t really bear having it out of his sight when we eat at food courts. “I feel more secure when I can see my car,” he would explain to me. Well, to each their own poison.
Now you might be wondering why I said he has a fierce passion for this Honda Civic. Actually, I might add that ‘fierce passion’ is an understatement, because in his own words this morning he had told me, “I’m sorry to say this but if my car turns into a human I would definitely fuck her,”
Now, there’s a few questions in my mind:
- Is there such thing as car-sexual?
- Was I supposed to feel jealous over a car?
- Should I be happy that he’s at least openly admitting to me his feelings for his car and honestly telling me the he would definitely cheat on me with his human-car if such a scenario was ever possible?
- Did I just lose to a car?
- ????????????????????
I put those girl feely-feely things aside and asked, “Well, okay. This is definitely going in my blog. But first, tell me more about just how much you love that car.”
He then told me about how he once had a candlelit dinner-like thing with his car. “That was before I met you,” he seemed to feel compelled to add. Just him, and the car with its hood open.
I have definitely just lost to a car. There has never been a candlelit dinner at any point of our relationship. I suppose that might have been for the best though. I could have burnt the whole room down if I was any more careless.
And then there was this other time when his group of friends and him were saying things like, “Damn, look at that sexy piece of ass right over there,”, “She’s the sexiest, hottest thing, ever. No arguments. Just look at her,” or even “I’m not gonna lie, I would fuck her if I could,” and some girls nearby overheard them and felt displeased, having presumed that the group of boys were talking about girls as if they are objects.
“Please, woman. We are talking about our cars right now,” he explained, and showed his phone screen, scrolling past photo after photo of cars in their gallery.
Seriously, guys. Is this normal? I mean, I love books and clothes and whatnot, but you won’t hear me saying that I would love to fuck the human apparition of those items.
But all these funny details aside, I do very clearly know that he loves that car a great deal. When we had problems in our relationship, one of his ways of releasing his pent-up stress and emotions is to drive.
Just driving up and down the mountain roads, revving hard, taking corners like a madman and going way past the practical speed limits of the curvy, elevated roads. In a narrative manner of speaking, I might say that he was expressing his emotions without saying a single word – instead, opting to show his displeasure through the engine’s revving. Roaring. Screaming.
“She comforts me and lets me know that it’s okay to push her further; She hasn’t reached her limits yet, so I should keep driving, go faster, keep pushing her to further lengths until I feel better. She would convince me that things would all be alright again, and it’s okay to let it all out. She’s there for me.” I remember him telling me once.
Sure, at the beginning I worried a great deal about this method of stress relief, but by now I myself have grown to like the thrill of fast, skilled driving. That aside, his love for his car isn’t harming anyone, and I am still claiming the throne as his Queen no. 1, so if he wants to love it that hard, by all means go ahead my man. I love you and I support you.
P/S: If by some weird black magic ways your car does turn into a human and you decide to fuck her, I’m not sure if I really want to know.
I’m not going to hide it. My man has a figure good enough that he can rock the old uncle-ish singlets just fine, effortlessly. Although he doesn’t work on cars in those singlets where he works, there are times when the Malaysian weather gets a bit too much (Who am I kidding, is it really just ‘a bit’ hot in Malaysia? Pfft) and the guys just work shirtless.
Yesssss, just let those beautiful images of guys with definted biceps and pecs working on your car flood your brain and cleanse your soul. Their bodies glistening with sweat; hands all dirtied from lubricant, engine oil and God knows what. Physical, perceptible signs of working through blood, sweat and tears.
Pure. Hot. Take-Me-Now kind of hot. Delicious.
You get the idea.
At least to me, it is, aside from the other customer that he had some time ago who we still talk about from time to time. Monkey had told me about said incident right after he was done with work, and I was – and still am – amused by the encounter that he faced.
It was one typical Malaysian hot summer day when he was working shirtless and a middle-aged-ish uncle happened to bring his daughter along to the workshop. It was the customer’s second visit; He came alone for the first one. He took note of Monkey then, who was notably young but seemed to know what he was doing with the cars. Intrigued, he approached my man and started chatting with him, asking about his age, his background & work experiences.
Then it happened.
“I have my daughter here, she’s still single. She’s a few years older than you are but hey, I think you’re a good guy,” He started introducing her. “You’re still so young, but you have already started working and have a few years of experience. You’re passionate about your job. That’s a good trait.” He mused before leaving his daughter with my man while the uncle himself went off somewhere else for the duration of the car repair. He kept his promise from the first visit when he had told monkey about his daughter, saying that he would bring her for the next visit.
Did I ask how he responded?
Of course, I did. I might not be the craziest of girlfriends, knowing that he’s loyal and trustworthy, but why not get the full story since I was already getting half the scoop, am I right?
He did tell the uncle that he has a girlfriend. He has me, okay? The relaxation-inducing, fried-food-making, super-attached girlfriend who still fangirls over him after 2 years together with him.
“You are still young, relationships won’t last. Just try to get to know my daughter first, you might like her. She’s quite a nice and pleasant person!”
Excuse you, uncle. Excuse you.
Upon being left with the girl, he simply said ‘hi’ to her and they were quiet for the remaining of the duration while he worked on the car.
I suppose that’s how some people might have met their romantic prospects on the job. Afterall, I did meet my man while he was assisting as a parkour coach and I became one of his students. But uh, sorry, uncle. He really is taken. Your daughter and you came by a bit too late.
So, I’m officially 22. On my birthday, my colleagues and I went to Zeus 13 for lunch. Had a good meal, and there was cake to be shared. I also had two other slices of cake from my other colleagues and I brought them home.
Monkey fetched me home after work, and we had a good nap and ate birthday cakes I got at work. He made it a point to wish me last for my birthday instead of being the first. Around 8p.m., he told me to pack up. He’s bringing me to his place.
That’s how I ended up staying the whole weekend at his house, celebrated his dad’s birthday as well, and found out that he sleeptalks once in a while.
Over the past 2 years together, he never really did that. Occasionally, he would kind of grunt or let out some weird unintelligible noises, but that would be about it.
Here’s the thing. I’m a light sleeper. I wake up briefly from movements on the bed or if he changes his sleeping postures. Two days ago, when we were both deep asleep, I woke up upon hearing murmurs from him.
“… … Take it.” Half asleep, I turned to him and just went, “Hmm?”
“This one’s also yours?” he continued in his sleep. Remembering some other sleeptalking incidents at home, I just replied “Yeah, it’s mine,” and he went silent afterwards, sleeping soundly like a baby while I wondered what he was dreaming about.
He didn’t remember anything like that the next day, claiming that he didn’t get any dreams and was just deep asleep the whole way through.
Fast forward to the next night, he still murmured some stuff, but I was too sleepy to remember what he said the next morning. I do remember though, him kind of half sitting up as if trying to see who’s outside the door, then laid back and continued sleeping. I thought he just couldn’t fall back asleep at that point, so I just pat his back for a bit.
He had no idea he did that either, saying that he was deep in sleep the whole night.
Well, it’s not just discovering that he sleeptalks.
Apparently, I snore too. It was one of those moments when he cuddled me to sleep halfway through the night, and I suppose I must have been feeling so comfortable that I started snoring.
We learn new things about each other everyday I suppose, hahah
“Don’t even bother. I can read you like an open book,” Jon would always tell me every single time I tell him that I plan to surprise him or prank him. “I know you very well dear.”
That’s me; predictable, almost as if I was moving and acting in perpetual looping motions. Sometimes I think he knows me better than I know myself. We usually sleep early, around 10.30p.m. on most days unless it was a weekend and he was staying over for the night. That’s when we might head out for some supper or be out with his friends until around midnight.
On days he’s not with me, either one of us would suggest that we head to sleep, whoever that’s sleepier. Most of the time, the other person would simply follow suit.
I consider myself a clingy person. I want to be as close to him as I could possibly be, and be around him as often as I can. I like being in physical contact with him when we are together, even if I’m just placing my hand on his lap. I like to go to sleep when he does so that I get all the time I could with him. I’d wait up even if I could have gone to sleep earlier because I was simply idling around.
“It’s getting late,” I might tell him when it’s around 11pm and he hasn’t suggested we end the day yet. “Shall we go to sleep?”
“I’ll be working on this thing for a while more, you can go ahead and sleep first. You don’t have to wait up.” He’d reply sometimes when he’s having a busier day.
“Ah, alright.” Sometimes I would simply continue watching Grey’s Anatomy on my laptop while waiting, but some other time there really wasn’t anything that I wanted to do other than staring into space or mindlessly scrolling on Facebook. “I will just continue writing another blog post meanwhile then I guess.”
“Yeah right,” he would muse. “Say anything you want, you are just waiting up for me to go to bed. Don’t even think I don’t know that.”
Guilty.
Sometimes I really wanted to continue doing whatever I was doing and so I continue and head to sleep when he’s done with his stuff, but most of the time, indeed, I was guilty as charged.
I think that’s one of the best things about being together with someone. You start out as strangers, and you never stop learning about one another. Over time you know their habits, what they were going to think or say about a certain situation, and read you as if you’re an open book laid right before his eyes.
You learn to catch those body language signs when they are thinking about trying something, when they are just being playful or are deep in thoughts but pretending not to be. How they are having a bad day when they drag their feet just a little bit more when they walk; how they avert their eyes and talk a little awkward when they are shy but tentative about something new; how that slightly drawn out sentence indicates they have something more in their mind that they haven’t said out loud.
Sometimes you’d know when their ‘no’ means ‘no’ and there’s that, and other times when they’d say no and you know to stop asking because you know after a while they’d say “You know what, alright. Yes” simply from a higher pitch in their voice when they said no earlier.
These signs, these little secrets that are unique and known only to you, are part of the joys of being with someone even if you are only subconscious about it. You don’t know that you know it most of the time, until you sit down and reflect on what you know about them. You know when their friends are pushing their limits because those friends did not know those little signals that you do and you try to avert the conversations or calm your person down with a gentle touch down their back.
He reads me like an open book, that much is true. Meanwhile I’m just slowly flipping through his pages and noticing the tiny folds and creases around the page corners too.
Let’s read on.