Wicked Pussycat’s Mad Ramblings….

I HATE DRESSCODES.

Although I’m in Theatre and love to get dressed up in costumes, I think of them as that - COSTUMES.

I have to teach at schools for a living and although I do enjoy it (sometimes), what I DETEST is when all these rules and regulations are imposed on me.

I was a rebel in school as a student and now that I’m back in school as a teacher, I still am a rebel. Rules shouldn’t apply to me anymore. Hell, I should be the one setting the rules! But alas, this is not the case (damnit).

Rules + Me = One very unhappy and stroppy camper.

I totally get it if I can’t wear low-cut tops or micro miniskirts, but don’t be anal about my hair or shirt designs or jeans. At least my boobs aren’t spilling out and poking someone in the eye, right?

When I have to go to someone’s wedding and get dolled up like a GIRL *cringe*, I feel like I’m not being myself.

I once wore a silk black & white polka dot dress (which was actually my mom’s by the way) with my reliable Converse sneakers to a cousin’s wedding at Fort Canning. I just had to add in a little touch of ME, if not, I would feel like a zombie.

Don’t you feel stifled if you’re forced to dress up in a way that isn’t really your style?

So what if I want to wear my dress with Combat boots, flip flops or bunny slippers? It’s my fashion statement. I can wear whatever the hell I want.

People who dress up like someone they’re not, just to fit in, should be shot in the head. It’s people like them who make the other sheep think that they all have to follow the other drones and dress exactly alike.

What’s "In " this Season? What’s "Out"?

WHO GIVES A DAMN?!!

The more popular something is, the more I’d hate to wear it. Why be like everyone else?? Have some originality.

If I could, I would just make/ sew my own clothes so that I wouldn’t have to go through the embarrassment of walking down the street one day and bumping into someone who has the exact same outfit as you do…

It’s not that hard to stand out in this small country though. Anything loud and outlandish is enough to make heads turn and eyes scanning you over on the MRT.

Some people tend to overdress for the occasion at times though. For example, when I’m out fishing with my husband and our friends, we’re in shorts and t-shirts and caps. But I still see some girls at the piers decked out in skinny jeans, sparkly tank tops, stiletto heels and Prada shades. Like, seriously? It’s a pier, not a catwalk. But then again, it’s really hilarious to see them get their stiletto heel stuck in the cracks of the boardwalk.

It’s tough to REALLY dress how you bloody feel like though. Especially if you’re trying to hold down a job which requires you to dress a certain way.

I can’t turn up to teach a class with bright blue hair and a mohawk, with skull pants and a Misfits t-shirt - although there are some days when I’m so close to actually trying my luck.

We’re already living in a society confined by so many rules and regulations, I just don’t need any more to tell me how to choose the way I portray myself to the public eye.

I also don’t like it when people tell me to wear more colour. Fuck colour. I’m not a bloody rainbow Carebear (although yes, I do like Carebears and My Little Ponies and all that - I am, however, not AM one). Let me wear my black and black and black. It shows what mood I’m in. If you want to wear pink, then hey, knock yourself out. But don’t force ME to wear pink or I’M going to knock you out.

My mom always bugs me about my eyeliner though. She says it makes me look intimidating. Actually, that was precisely the look I was going for, so, thanks Mom! You were spot on. I’ve been wearing thick black eyeliner since I was 15 and it’s just my signature style and always will be. But she’s the only one allowed to comment on it. If it were anyone else….

Sometimes it’s fun to have an excuse to get dressed up in some "costume" for a particular occasion though - but that’s only because it’s for one day and everyone else is all dressed up too (like clowns).

It’s a never-ending Halloween Costume Party.

But why wear a costume you didn’t pick out yourself?

At least I am what I am and I dress who I am.

I am not a sheep or a drone or a zombie.

From now on, I really am going to try pushing the envelope just a little bit and see how far I can go (without losing my job). Ah hell. If I lose my job I can just find another one. I’m sick of these restrictions.

"What you wear is an extension of your personality"

So let’s just leave the CosPlay for the stage.

Everybody knows a bitch.

Everybody has called someone a bitch.

Maybe you yourself are a bitch?

Hate them or love them, bitches are here to stay.

There are many variations to how the term "bitch" would be applied:

"That bitch just cut in front of me in the queue!"
(Meaning: Someone who has no consideration for other people and is selfish or rude)

"Check out her perfect body! Ugh! Bitch!"
(Meaning: Admiration for someone because she has something you don’t)

"She was totally bitching about you"
(Meaning: To bad-mouth someone or talk ill of them)

Some people take offense when called a bitch - others choose to relish the compliment.

Bitches might be called so because some people are merely envious of them or feel intimidated and threatened by them.

What’s the next best line of defence instead of confronting them? To label that someone a BITCH.

It’s easier to call someone a bitch than to actually tell her why you think she is a bitch or what she has done to deserve such a name to be associated with her.

Girls tend to "bitch" alot and also call other girls bitches. But in this day and age, alot of guys have also turned into bitches as well and also indulge in bitchy behaviour.

Forget "metrosexual" - because another word seems to come to mind when referring to such a male…

Bitching is for girls.

So why don’t you grow a pair and while you’re at it, learn how to act like a REAL MAN?

"Bitching" is another term for gossiping. Gossiping itself is already a bad habit as well as a sin. Some people claim to be religious, pray regularly and frequently go to their place of worship - yet still succumb to the evils of bitching - a sin which is listed alongside many others such as sexual immorality and even murder.

The word "bitch", actually means "female dog". So the abused usage of this term probably stems from the fact that dogs like to bark alot - and most people say girls tend to talk or nag alot…

But remember that although it may be just a dog to you, it is also very capable of attacking and biting you where it hurts. It can rip you to shreds with no remorse and cause you so much pain and suffering. It can turn the whole entire pack against you and leave you completely friendless.

Bitches can do that.

So the next time you want to call someone a bitch just because she is smarter/ prettier/ more talented/ more successful/ has more friends/ earns more money than you, stop to think that you must be prepared to face the consequences when she will strike back when you least expect it.

Better a bitch than a stupid loser FAT cunt.

It is quite upsetting to know that animal abuse is still an untouched issue in this nation.

Although it is against the law for one to abuse animals, I somehow find that this is sort of a "token law" which is implimented just shut up animal activists and not taken as seriously as we’d like it to be.

If I were to report a case of how a dog was being tied up under the blistering hot sun for no less than 3 hours, with no water to drink (this qualifies as animal abuse), the cops don’t even bother to turn up.

But throw a couple of noisy youths at the void deck and it takes all of 10 minutes for the cops to turn up and detain them.

I find there is a lack of compassion and decency in society nowadays. People try not to get invovled in anything and go about their daily routines in their insignificant little lives and dare not make their existence worthwhile.

It is not enough for you to watch Animal Planet and get saddened by the poor little animals you see on tv.

It is not enough for you to donate 20cents to the SPCA’s donation tin.

It is not enough for you to pat a stray cat on the head as you walk by it on the streets.

GO OUT AND DO SOMETHING.

YOU CAN MAKE A DIFFERENCE.

Volunteer with the local animal welfare groups.

Donate at least the same amount of money you would
spend on one decent meal.

Feed your local stray cats.

Do not BUY animals from petshops, but instead, adopt abandoned animals.

Report animal abuse to the police (and let’s hope they actually give a rat’s ass like they’re SUPPOSED to).

I hate it when people see stray cats hanging around their neighbourhood and call in Pest Control to catch them.

Pest Control catch PESTS.

Cats are NOT "pests".

HUMANS ARE PESTS.

The Pest Control people were in a real dilemma back then during the SARS outbreak.

I cursed the people who reported that Civet Cats were the cause and spreaders of the virus.

That is SUCH total BULLCRAP.

And even IF civet cats COULD spread the virus, DOMESTIC CATS are NOT the SAME thing!! How stupid can some people be??

KILL IGNORANCE, NOT ANIMALS.

So STUPID people were panicking and insisting the Pest Control people catch ALL the stray cats - but do they know what happens to these cats once they are rounded up and snatched from their homes?

Do they CARE about what happens to them?

These cats are turned in to the AVA to be PUT DOWN.

Some Pest Control people who have some moral fibre in their being, instead choose to bring the cats to the SPCA, in the hopes of them being able to at least get a chance of adoption.

But usually the people who reported about the stray cats are such heartless assholes, that they DEMAND the Pest Control company to SHOW them the RECEIPT given by the AVA.

What sort of satisfaction does one get from intentionally killing an innocent life?

You would think that the AVA would put the cats to sleep in a "humane" way (what a total oxymoron).

You would think that they will inject the cats one by one, so that they would cross over in their sleep.

YOU THOUGHT WRONG.

Do you know how much ONE lethal injection costs?

Around $50.

Do you know how much they pay the Pest Control companies per cat they catch?

Around $10.

Don’t you think they would rather do something else with that money?

So what do they do instead as an money-saving alternative?

They dump the cats into metal cages, spray them with water, connect cables to the cages and ELECTROCUTE THEM TO DEATH.

Doesn’t cost them a thing.

People. Friends. I am not making any of this up. I get my information from a very reliable and trusted source - so believe me that these are all true facts. I only wish to shed some light on the plight of our local strays and make you realize that animal abuse is very real and will never go away until we all stand up and do something about it.

So the next time you see some schmuck kicking a cat or throwing rocks at a dog, please, go up to them, punch them in the throat and spit on their writhing body.

Animals can’t speak for themselves, so it’s up to us to speak up for them.

Although my favourite topic to talk about is MYSELF, I find that I seem to always have to answer the same questions made by new friends (and even some old ones).

Yes.

I am such a fascinating person that you all just HAVE to read the "F.A.Q’s" about me.

Ok.

Either that, or you’re just curious to know what makes me, well, ME.

Q: Is Dew your real name?

ANS: No. My REAL legal name is actually *deep breath* "Kasamawati Masmintra Chaiyanara Binte Muhammad Zain". I hardly (if ever) use my "Binte", though.

Q: So where the hell does the "Dew" part come from??

ANS: Nowhere in my real name actually - and NO I did not name myself. When my mother was still in school, she read a poem in English Lit class which had the word "dew" in it. She liked the sound and meaning of it so much that she vowed to name her future daughter "Dew". When she married my dad years later and had me, although she wanted to legally name me Dew, my grandfather (on my dad’s side) was keen on naming me "Kasamawati" (which means "to bring life" in Arabic"). Of course, my mom didn’t really wanna argue with him, so instead, Dew just became a nick name which I have gone by and respond to for all of my life.

Q: Why is your AKA "Wicked Pussycat"?

ANS: I have ALWAYS loved cats and I also know I am far from being a "Good Girl". So when I heard the Danzig song "Wicked Pussycat", I fell in love with it.

Q: What’s with your accent?

ANS: It is NOT fake. I am NOT Eurasian. I did NOT grow up in America. I have been educated at International schools since the age of 5, thus the accent. It comes in handy when talking to clients and giving presentations/ talks - but it’s quite a hinderence when ordering food at a local foodcourt or telling cab drivers your destination. Although, I can fake OTHER accents (Singaporean, Malay, Thai, English, Russian, Italian) for fun. Haha.

Q: So what race are you?

ANS: I have been mistaken for being Malay or Nepalese or Balinese or Chindian or Asian/ Black or Eurasian. BUT my mom is pure Thai and my dad is Malay Thai. Like Singapore, Thailand also has alot of races. So I consider myself Thai (with a pinch of Malay - haha).

Q: How long have you been living in Singapore?

ANS: It must be more than 10 years now. I was born in Malaysia, lived there til I was about 2 years old, moved to Thailand, stayed there til I was 4 years old, moved to Brunei, then moved to Singapore when I was….10? Yeah, so it’s been over 10 years. WOW.

Q: Do you speak Thai?

ANS: Yes I do. I speak Thai to my parents and relatives back home in Thailand. But my 1st language is English. I can also speak Malay (well enough to be understood - but sometimes with embarrassing results).

Q: Do you have any siblings?

ANS: I have a younger sister and an older half-brother. Long dramatic story. Read my "Goodbye 2006" blog post for juicy details.

Q: What exactly do you do for a living?

ANS: I freelance all over the place. I teach Drama, I am a Production Assistant for LAMC Productions, I play in a Metal band (FWB), I Direct plays, I write scripts, I act in theatre/ TV shows. I don’t want to have a fulltime job because working freelance is so much better - the pay is better, my schedule is more flexible and you just have more freedom.

Q: Do you have a boyfriend?

ANS: No. I do, however, have a HUSBAND

Q: How did you and your husband meet?

ANS: Eaddy (my sweetie) was working at HMV at the time. His colleague was the Lead Guitarist of the band I was in (back then). I was the Vocalist and so-called Band Manager, so since we were looking for a new Bassist and Eaddy happened to play the Bass, I was introduced to him by my Lead Guitarist so that I could liase with him when to jam, etc. I ended up leaving the band at one point and Eaddy called me up one day to ask when was our overdue jam session. So we decided to form our own band instead. We started hanging out more and one thing led to another….hahahahaha.

Q: So you sing in a band?

ANS: Yes, I am the Vocalist of Metal band, "FWB". We’ve been around since 1999 and have recently released our E.P. Our mini-LP will be out soon as well. You can check us out at: http://www.myspace.com/fwbspore

Q: How come you got to meet Joey Jordison (Slipknot)/ Yngwie Malmsteen/ Slayer??

ANS: I work for LAMC Productions and we bring in bands to play in Singapore - so I get to meet and hang out with all these cool bands/ artistes AND get paid for it. Next up - Ronnie James Dio & Black Sabbath!! MUHAHAHAHAHAHA >;D

Q: Are you a Satanist?

ANS: WHAT the SOD gives you the IMPRESSION that I AM?? I am a MUSLIM and PROUD of it.

Q: Do you always wear eyeliner?

ANS: The Egyptian-style eyeliner It’s sort of like my trademark look I suppose. I love eyeliner in all sorts of colours (except pink that is).

Q: Do you always wear black?

ANS: I used to wear black ALL the time - but now I have a dash of grey, red, blue and camo. Although, I still think that 80% of my wardrobe is black…

Q: Why do you look so angry all the time?

ANS: Because I usually AM angry all the time.

Ok, so the real lyrics actually are,

"Dont’cha wish your girlfriend was raw like me".

But you must admit, it seriously sounds like they say "prawn" instead of "raw" (admit it, admit it!).

Misheard lyrics are common and there are many times when you’re listening to a song (especially a new one), and you’re trying to catch the lyrics - but end up creating an entirely new one of your own.

My sister is guilty of this as she has butchered many a song (yes, you have Dua! Haha). TLC’s song about self-confidence and body image, "Unpretty", was blown out of proportion by her as she kept singing it as,
"Damn I’m pretty", as opposed to, "Damn unpretty".

So shiok sendiri.

One of my friend’s little brother once thought that The Supremes were collaborating with the traffic police and was singing,
"Stop! In the neighborhood", as opposed to "Stop! In the name of love".

How’s that for romance?

Then there’s the intentional variation people come up with for fun, just to poke fun at a song. There was a kid on my schoolbus once who sang the Spice Girls’ "Wannabe" as:

"If you wanna see my blubber,
You gotta pull down my pants,
My boobs are made of plastic,
I used to be a man"

This coming from an 8 year old.

Karina and I love to improvise with known songs and I think we can release an album by now. One example is our version sung to "Anywhere For You" by the Backstreet Boys:

"You are such an ugly crap,
You’re stupid and so damn fat,
Of course no one will like you,
Since you breath smells like old shoes.
Your IQ is minus 20,
Your hair has lice - oh yes plenty,
There’s one thing for sure I know is true,
No one can be as ugly as you…."

Come on. I wrote the lyrics down for you already. Now go dig up your old BSB tape (which I know you have), pop it into your stereo and sing along.

You know you want to.

But occasionally there comes a song with lyrics so dumb that you don’t have to butcher or add humour to it, as it is an embarrassment to itself all on it’s own to begin with.

Case in point - Rihanna’s new song, "Umbrella".

The title alone already makes you wonder which episode of Sesame Street this girl was watching when she came up with that idea.

I must admit though, like an annoying and painful rash that won’t go away, the chorus is stuck in your head and it seems like everyone around is singing that irritating line,

"Umbrella, ella, ella, eh eh, eh eh….".

Before I whacked them over the head with my umbrella, I stopped to think about the possible language variation versions of this song which could become a hit in other countries as well.

Imagine in Malaysia they translate it to:

"Payung, ayung, yung, yung, ng, ng…."

And in Thailand it’s:

"Rom, om, om om, mm, mm…".

Ok.

Nevermind.

It was ridiculous in English, and it will still be ridiculous in other languages.

Stupid payung song.

You are all cordially invited to me and my best friend Karina’s upcoming Birthday BBQ!

Your presents presence will be deeply appreciated (hehehe).

WHEN: 19th May 2007 (Saturday)

TIME: 3.00pm - late

WHERE: Labrador Park,
BBQ Area A,
BBQ Pits "Siloso Battery" & "Pasir Laba Battery"

*Map of Labrador Park

**Map of BBQ Area

HOW TO GET THERE:
By car - Along Labrador Villa Road, Off Pasir Panjang Road

Public transport - Bus Services 10, 30, 51, 143 and 176. Alight along Pasir Panjang Road and proceed on foot via Labrador Villa Road.

Parks 408: a direct service that plys between HarbourFront Bus Interchange/MRT Station and Labrador Park (Saturdays, Sundays and Public Holidays from 9.00 am to 7.00 pm).
The service departs from the interchange every 30 minutes.

DRESS CODE: Casual/ beachwear

Kindly RSVP your attendance asap through any of the following options:

- Leave a comment for this Blog post
- Message me on Friendster
- Message me on MSN Messenger
- Message me on MySpace
- Email me
- SMS me
- Call me
- Tell me when you meet me

It is IMPORTANT that you RSVP (meaning, REPLY to confirm your attendance) so that we know how much FOOD to prepare

*Bring your own fishing rod and alcohol

Hope to see you all there!

Most of you may or may not have felt the tremors of the Sumatra earthquake yesterday just a little before noon.

My husband, Eaddy, was at home at the time and said that the whole house was shaking.

Uncanny enough, I happened to be at the Esplanade for a rehearsal of a show I’m directing called, "Tsunami Story", which touches on the catastrophic tsunami that happened 2 years ago.

I actually had a sickening feeling in my gut and felt as though the whole room was on a boat on choppy waters.

It’s happening again.

When the tsunami struck 2 years ago, Eaddy and I were taking our Marriage Preparation course.

We were safe and sound in Singapore.

But some of my relatives back in Thailand weren’t so lucky.

My uncle (my father’s younger brother), lives somewhere off the coast of the South of Thailand. As he works for the Thai Navy, the houses provided for the staff are located near the coast.

The day the tsunami struck, my uncle had just come home from work and instead of parking his truck in the garage like he normally did, he had a strange feeling to just leave it parked in the driveway instead.

His wife (my aunt) and his youngest daughter (my cousin), Bina, who is around 10 years old had also just come home early from grocery shopping and my uncle was helping them carry the bags into the house.

At the time, my other cousin (his son), Billy, who was barely in his teens, was working part-time as a golf caddy at the nearby Country Club.

Suddenly, my uncle heard a strange rumbling and buzzing sound, like a deafening swarm of bees. The skies turned dark and he heard people screaming, "Tsunami! Tsunami!".

He grabbed his wife and daughter and they ran into the truck.

His other neighbours quickly scrambled onto the back of the truck as well, as they saw the giant black wall of water rolling towards them.

If he hadn’t had left his truck in the driveway instead of locking it up in the garage as he usually does, then he might not have been able to escape with his family in time.

My uncle sped away as some of his other neighbours were still desperately trying to open their garage doors to reverse their cars out.

They were screaming, "Wait! Please wait for us! Wait!".

Torn, my uncle regretfully called out to them,
"I’m sorry! I’m so sorry", and sped off.

What could he do? Stay there and let his family perish? His truck was already full with all of the other neighbours and he had to get out of there immediately or risk all their lives.

Billy saw the black tower of water crashing forward and he saw the terror in the faces of the golfers around him. He ran as fast as he could, but knowing that he could never outrun the tidal wave, he quickly scrambled up a coconut tree and clinged on for dear life.

My little cousin, Billy. My sweet little cousin, stuck in a tree, clinging on for dear life, scared out of his mind - while he watched the rich golfers below getting dragged away by the ruthless waves. He closed his eyes and tried to block out the deafening screams as the blanket of death swept across the green.

"Where is Billy??", my aunt screamed as the truck came to a halt at the safety ontop of a hill. She was going hysterical and Bina was crying. 2 hours had already passed by and my uncle felt sick in his stomach as he tried to imagine what could have happened to his son out in the golf range.

He waded throught the murky waters and went back to where their house used to stand and was greeted by grey sludge.

He couldn’t recognize his own neighbourhood anymore.

Everything was gone.

Not a house in sight.

Only broken bricks and grey sludge everywhere.

He screamed out my cousin’s name while he made his way towards the golf range.

Weak and exhausted, Billy slowly climbed down from the coconut tree and waded through the dirty water, trying to head back home.

He saw dead bodies floating all around him and tried hard not to look at their faces, for fear of recognizing them.

It didn’t matter that he was just a golf caddy and they were all rich businessmen who hired him to lug their shiny clubs around as they played an expensive round of golf.

And he survived.

My cousin was eventually reunited with his family and they were relocated to a new home on top of a hill.

My father went out to that town with my other uncle, in a desperate search for his brother - praying he was still alive.

He told me how the bloated, disfigured decomposed bodies were littered around like trash and how the stench of death was nauseating.

They had to pick their way through the carnage and try hard to not let the morbid sight affect them.

In another part of Thailand, my mother’s relative was out when the tsunami struck her house. When she came back, everything was gone.

She went to seek shelter at the nearby temple and after a few days of hoping and praying, she finally accepted the fact that her husband and son probably did not survive the disaster.

The monks did some prayers and a few hours later, her son’s dead body mysteriously floated in the water right up to the temple grounds.

Although I have lost some relatives in this tragedy, I thank God every day that my uncle and his family survived.

Aren’t you lucky that you were tucked away safe and sound in your bed while all this was happening?

Don’t take life for granted.

For those who have been following the recent ASEAN Championship football match - I don’t care, Thailand still won in my eyes.

Yes. This is me being patriotic.

That was the first time I ever sat down to really watch a football match on tv, much to my husband’s delight.

As he cheered, applauded and whistled for Singapore to kick Thailand’s butt, I was rooting for my own home country.

What?

Yes I know I am currently living in Singapore and I am married to a Singaporean, but it doesn’t mean I can’t support my own country, right?

I must have been the only person in this estate screaming my lungs out for Thailand.

Due to the fact that I am not living in Thailand, all the more I feel I have to get "in touch with my cultural roots" and support everything Thai.

I go to all the Thai fairs at the Thai Embassy, I watch the Thai soap operas on the Malaysian TV channel, I cook Thai food, I go to Golden Mile at least once a month, I watch all the new Thai horror movies/ comedies out in the cinema, I try to only buy Thai food products, I wear a t-shirt with the Thai flag on it.

There was once when I was with one of my Thai friends, Kanika, and we were about to sit down and have our dinner at a certain foodcourt, when the Thai National anthem was played on the TV nearby (it was during some Olympics or Doha sports game or whatever). We promptly stood up at attention and waited for the anthem to end.

Nang Nak, Tom Yum, Tuk Tuk and Sawasdee jokes aside - I felt proud when the last season of America’s Next Top Model went to Thailand for their finale episodes.

I felt proud when people tell me how great the Thai horror movies, "Shutter" and "Nang Nak" were.

I feel proud of the new popular seaweed snack which is made in Thailand.

I feel proud knowing that the movie, "The Beach" (starring Leonardo DiCaprio) was shot on location in Thailand.

I feel proud when I when I hear people say how nice and friendly Thai people are.

But I also felt angry when one of the Singapore football players karate chopped one of the Thai players at the back of his neck.

I felt angry when they kneed one of them.

I felt angry when they stepped on this one guy’s foot and kicked his leg in an attempt to break it.

I felt angry when they delivered a flying kick to the face.

You want to join in the Lion’s Roar?

Fine.

But at least let me say that some day, a Tom Yum Goong (Hot & Spicy Prawn) will kick the Merlion’s butt!

Barely 24 hours after my wedding, I found myself being asked this question by family members, friends, relatives, neighbours, colleagues, ex-classmates, complete strangers….

"Are you pregnant yet?"

For those who recently got married, you must know what I’m talking about.

For those about to get married, brace yourselves.

At first you will blush and smile coyly. But after hearing this question the 48th time for the week, one’s sanity begins to get affected.

Before I go on, let me take this opportunity to congratulate my dear friends who have recently announced their latest additions to the family:

Pregnancies

1) Ira & Geir (May 2007?)
2) Julizah & Azhari (April 2007?)
3) Farhat & Fauzana (August 2007?)

Births

1) Wan Ningpokz: It’s a boy!!

I unwillingly must agree however, the day they stop asking you The Question, you probably will miss it. But sometimes it’s not even about them asking you that ever-so-popular question, but the way they ask it, which can be rather tactless.

Trust me, I think I’ve heard it all by now.

"You’re not pregnant yet? Are you sure you’re doing it right?"

Like, what the hell? Who crowned you the bloody King of Copulation?? Have you ever stopped to think that if I’m not pregnant it could be due to the fact that we are just not trying for a baby yet?? Some of us actually believe in a thing called Family Planning, you know? Unless you would like to make a generous cash donation of $100,000 to start us off, then sod off and stop with the immature remarks.

"So you’re not pregnant? I thought that’s why you got married in the first place…."

You think I’m irresponsible enough to get myself pregnant before marriage? You think just because I got married at a young age (22), that must mean it was out of shotgun/ wedlock? You don’t think at all, do you? Could it just be that I felt I was ready enough to settle down? Could it just be that I was blessed enough to find a suitable life-partner earlier on in my life? Could it just be that I love Eaddy with all my heart and didn’t want to wait any longer? Could it just be that you are just jealous because you are still single and nobody wants to marry you?

"Are you pregnant? Because you look pregnant"

In other words, you think I’m fat? Just because I put on a few pounds does not mean that I am therefore with child. What dumbass school did you go to? Your Biology teacher must be weeping by now.

There are more polite ways of asking me this, and implying that I have tipped the scale enough for me to resemble someone who is in their 2nd trimester is not at all flattering.

So shut your pie-hole, go find some manners, mind your own business and keep your insensitive jerk-off comments to your bloody self. Dick wad.

Eaddy and I very much want to start a family SOON, but we have to be mature, responsible and plan this out carefully. Of course we also believe that ultimately it’s all in the hands of God, but that also doesn’t mean that we have no control whatsoever over it.

We have all our baby names picked out. Some of my new clothes were intentionally selected so that they could also double up as maternity-wear. I have a book about "Bringing Up Children in Islam". I have a small collection of baby clothes at the back of my closet, which is slowly growing. We’ve already planned for the Baby Shower party. We’ve surveryed the market for the price of baby cribs, prams, etc. I’ve already created a baby website.

But at the end of the day, it is up to me and Eaddy to figure out when we are truly ready.

We sincerely appreciate everyone’s excitement and enthusiasm and I must admit that we still blush and smile coyly when we are asked the big question.

But please, don’t be a dick and ask us in a distasteful and tactless manner. You’re only making a fool of yourself and ensuring that you’re definately not going to receive an invitation to the Baby Shower.

Yesterday my band met up for a casual session of song composition. As we all live at different corners of the country, we decided to convene at a more central location.

What better place than the Esplanade - "the" place where they nurture the Arts and promote creativity - or so we thought.

Settling down in a peaceful spot down in the basement, away from human traffic so as not to get easily distracted, at the same time not disturbing anyone else - it took all of 10 minutes for a gungho security guard to stride on down, eyeball us for a good 1 minute, radio in his bum-chum back at the main office, stomp about for a few more minutes and then approach us in his overly pretentious crisp blue uniform and with an authoratative tone (not to be thrown off by our own menacing glares), he said:

"Excuse me, but you all cannot sit here. If you want to sit somewhere, you can go sit at the Concourse or outside by the Waterfront. You just cannot sit over here".

I find that abso-f*cking-lutely ridiciulous, because:

a) This IS the ESPLANADE, after all, right?? Aren’t you supposed to WELCOME people from the ARTS scene such as OURSELVES?? Is MUSIC not a form of ART??

b) We are not disturbing ANYBODY except for the WALLS and occasional SPIDERS

c) If we are NOT ALLOWED to be there, then why don’t you just post up a SIGN like how the WHOLE of the COUNTRY has signs for EVERYTHING?? (I.E: No spitting, no littering, no skateboarding, no fishing, no ballgames, no parking, no squatting on the toilet bowl, no speeding, no fun, no this, no that, no creativity, no freedom, no life, etc)

d) Since you said "no sitting" is allowed there, can we just STAND around then?? Will we be allowed to remain on the premises THEN?

e) The CONCOURSE is where all the freaking PEOPLE are and if we are sitting there strumming on our GUITARS (although it IS in an ARTS building), we will SURELY get chased away by the security THERE too!

f) It is hot as HELL outside by the Waterfront and the glare of the sun ON the waterfront is enough to MELT the guitar strings onto my HANDS

g) The level above us where people are SUPPOSEDLY allowed to SIT are fully occupied with secondary school kids (still in uniform and all) making out/ sucking face/ engaging in some sort of sexual activity - so why don’t you tell THEM to sod off as at least what WE are doing is actually RELATED to the bloody ARTS!!

"Nurture the Arts" my FOOT.

That is complete and utter BULLCRAP and you KNOW IT.

The Esplanade was built as a SO-CALLED venue for ALL FORMS OF ART to be displayed/ performed/ staged there - however I guess we failed to read the small print.

They don’t REALLY care about nurturing their OWN.

NO.

They will CHASE AWAY their own.

They will then in turn WELCOME all these FOREIGN acts with open arms and embrace them wholeheartedly while the REST of us who are struggling in Singapore have to trudge off and find another miserable location to "create art".

SCREW the bloody establishments.

We’re going back to the void deck.