Shopping = Workout

One day, while trudging around Sunway Pyramid, my family and I discovered something:

There is a buggy to drive you around INSIDE the shopping centre!

Taken from my seat inside the buggy, sorry no outside view. People were gawping, I'm not thick-skinned enough to stand around and take pictures while people stare in my direction.

We truly live in a world where pretty much every want or need is anticipated and fulfilled by service providers and manufacturers, no? Now you don't even need to walk around in a mall if you don't want to! And trust me, after a couple of shopping trips in huge-ass places like Midvalley and 1Utama, you don't want to. I always feel on the verge of collapse after a shopping trip, but nobody shows any sympathy when I start with "OMG, too much shopping is really hard!" because apparently shopping is recreational and in no way a hardship. I beg to differ! People who scoff, YOU try walking in circles for a good five to six hours, only stopping to try on clothes (which requires a lot of stretching and bending over), or look at items to compare prices (brainpower), or to eat (refueling). If you're in a rush, you end up brisk-walking, which is what people do on treadmills in gyms worldwide, but you actually do it for longer! Bonus points if you walk up the escalators! Think about it, carrying shopping bags are like lifting weights, walking around is like doing time on a treadmill; who said shopping is all fun and games? And have I mentioned the mental exhaustion that comes after a long day of calculating prices after discounts? And to ascertain that you get the best value for money, you have to make sure that the item isn't cheaper just because it's lesser in volume! All that requires a certain agility of mind, pooh-pooh-ers.

Now, excuse me while I collapse in bed, I've managed to convince myself that I've had a terribly strenuous day today and I deserve some rest. Goodnight!

It's Not Gold-Digging, It's Biology

I've just discovered an awesome TV series - Mad Men! Ok, I know I'm waay behind the rest of the world, bla bla, but being late doesn't diminish my love for it! I have a sneaking suspicion that my love stems from Donald Draper, the suave James Bond-esque (without the fighting and gadgets but with all the debonair sexiness that makes women want to carry his babies) advertising man who heads the cast. Don is pretty much what my mother would term 'A Bad BAD Husband Candidate': he cheats on his wife, has a secret past that no one knows about, and is just waay too good-looking for his own good.

Jesus. Look at that.

Actually, all of the men on the show are pretty much unfaithful womanisers. Kids, don't be like these men (even though they're sexy). I know, I know, women didn't burn their bras and fight for women's rights just so I can drool over the patriarchy that is portrayed in the show. But! There's something about unabashed masculine authority that appeals to the primitive female inside every woman, be she decked out in LV and shining with urbane polish or dressed in some Mormon dress and sharing a husband with 6 other women. 

 Or maybe it's just me. 

But I really do think that deep within every man resides a Neanderthal wielding a club. Therefore, it only makes sense that there is a corresponding Neanderthal within every woman, who secretly wants to be clubbed over the head and dragged into a cave. Of course, I'm all for equality amongst the sexes in the things that matter such as the right to vote, the right to education, the right to be heard. Misogyny is definitely something that should be stamped out and abolished, women have just as much right to live on this earth and be treated with the same respect men get. But is it wrong to want to be wooed the old-fashioned way? I like doors to be opened for me, even though I can open them myself. I like chivalrous gestures. One day when I have a home of my own, I want to be the one who cooks (I can't yet, but I will learn!). Of course, if he does the dishes after that, that's fine by me! 

I've done enough gender studies in school to know that I am subscribing to a rather archaic school of thought constructed by a patriarchal society that favours men over women. But I don't think anyone can, if they're truly honest with themselves, deny the fact that some ideas are so deeply rooted into our psyches that we cannot rip them out any more than we can change the direction of the earth's orbit. Rich men dating beautiful young women is a prime example of basic mating: The women go for the best provider, and the men go for youth and looks which all point to healthy offspring. You can cloak it in many disguises 'oh she's a gold-digger', 'he's shallow', but it's biological! I'm not saying I'm off to get my claws into the first guy with a fat wallet, I'm enough of a modern girl to think that it's unnecessary to depend solely on a man since women now can have good jobs, etc. But I'm not about to get married to a bum who freeloads off me. Whether or not he drags a club.

I'd let Donald Draper hit me with a club, though.

Just saying.

Stop The Senseless Violence!

This is just too much, ok!

I happily signed into my MSN account and stopped short when I saw the headline "SS2 Bridal Houses Targeted In 'Serial' Arson". 

Waddafark??

When I think of SS2, I only think of two things - food and bridal shops. I'm not ashamed to tell you that I LOVE being driven past the row of shops veery slooowlyyy so I get to press my nose to the car window and ogle the dresses on display and drool! I used to date a guy who would make detours to drive me there at funny times in the morning just so we could cruise by at the speed of a snail while I pointed and squealed. <-- on hindsight, it wasn't a good idea because while I love wedding gowns, I was and still am a bit of a commitment-phobe whereas I'm pretty sure he was already mentally calculating the cost of our wedding, being of that age where all his peers were getting hitched. Ooops.

In light of my obsession with wedding gowns, and therefore my love of the shops housing those awesome dresses, is it any wonder that I am outraged by this senseless burning - BURNING!! - of said shops? Bridal shops are like... symbols of true love! You go there when you've found that one person you're ready to take the plunge with, the person you think you'll be able to live with for the rest of your life. You think "Ok! I love this guy! He doesn't like to go karaoke with me but he makes me giggle AND he gives awesome foot rubs!". So you buy a dress (or two. Or three. Ok, I'm getting carried away) to wear on the day you pledge your love to each other in front of everybody who matters to the both of you. You can't just buy a dress from, say, Topshop! Or.. or.. a cute boutique on Telawi Street! 

YOU BUY IT FROM A BRIDAL SHOP!

AND THOSE MOTHEREFFING MORONS ARE BURNING THEM DOOWWNN!!

Ahem.

Got a bit carried away there.

What I MEAN to say is: Please, Arsonists, stop burning down these symbols of love. Or else one day Karma will bite you in the ass and you will have to be married in some 70% discount ugly suit (or a yucky psychedelic print dress if you're - GASP - a GIRL). And your bridesmaids will look better than you. IN YOUR FACE.

Roll Camera!

One small rant:

Why is life never like a movie script? Why can't people meet the one they're destined for, have a conversation, go on a date, and get together? Ok, of course there will be a conflict (crazy ex-girlfriend, personal issues, etc etc) but True Love will prevail and then there will be a Happy Ending with a nice soundtrack. But nooooooo, real life has to be a right bugger and throw all sorts of monkey wrenches in the works, jamming up our Happy Ending production machines.

Then we wander around, lovelorn and sad. And not even lovelorn like those movie characters! Those people get to grow beards and mope around, drinking milk from the carton and looking like dirtier versions of hobos. We have to clean up and get shit done or else life turns around and bitch-slaps us. If I had my way, then we would one day wake up to find the loves of our lives at the front door with a cute sign or a sparkly ring (of course, we'd look absolutely fabulous cos we'd sleep with makeup on, unless you're a guy then you'd be stubbly but CUTE) and we'd live Happily Ever After, after having the Big White Wedding.

Sigh.

Screw you, movies. You've given me unnaturally high expectations.

That being said, while not exactly movie-like, I quite like my life. Sure, I don't roll out of bed with perfect hair, but still. Could be worse, no?

Commercial Break

Sometimes when things are whirling around me and people demand answers, 

I feel.. quiet.

Ok, quiet time over, back to work!

Google Search: How Do You Get Answers?

 Say you have a question. Where do you turn to for help?

I was reading an article by the Star columnist Mary Schneider, about questions posed on the internet. Apparently people ask things like 'how to kiss' and 'how to tie a tie'. It got me thinking - how much DO we rely on the internet? I know I have, on many occasions, enthused about how much I love the internet and how I rely on it to answer everything, but I do actually ask humans for help! Come on, 'how to boil an egg'? Do you really need the internet for that?

There are lots of things that the internet can help with, especially when it comes to questions we don't really want to ask people cos of the potential embarrassment they could cause.

BUT learning from experiences and people can sometimes create the memories that make up the tapestry of your life. I mean, how did you learn to tie a tie? I was taught by my dad, and even though it's something quite insignificant as far as memories go, I'll always remember standing there while he patiently taught me how to loop it around and pull it snug. Every time I tie a tie (it's been ages since I last did, though - hello school memories!), I think of my dad. And every time I reverse a car into a parking space, I can totally hear my mum's voice in my head going "OK! Bai zhik (straighten out), don't go in too far!". Would I have these memories to share if I, say, Googled 'how to reverse park'? Nope.

That being said, I have Googled 'how penises work' on the urging of friends who shall remain unnamed for fear that they will exact painful revenge.  It also makes for interesting memories. And the internet totally saved my ass when I dropped my phone in the toilet and frantically searched 'what to do phone dropped in toilet'!

I guess, on second thought, that it doesn't reeaally matter HOW we get our information. But isn't it nice to have memories of stuff like learning how to kiss WITH another person? My first one was sort of awkward and fumbly. It was sweet. And it wouldn't have been the same if I had first Googled 'how to kiss' and had done it with things like 'no face-chewing like a zombie' running in my mind!

No, there was no face-chewing.