19 June, 2006

So Long! Farewell! I hate to say Goodbye, MATE!

Ho Ho HO
The Time has Arrived.
(Okay, well, not REALLY...another *checks* 23 more hours to go, but if I don't do this post now, I'll never get it done!)

Oooh where was I?
Ah yes...

Come on People, do the Happy Dance with me... do it.
Do It.

Okay now that that's outta the way, here's some typical Mahi randomness-

I've noticed that most bloggers seem to hate Anonymous commentors. Some make a big hoo-ha about them and shower very choice words on em and some even admit that anonymous commentors are a pain in the arse...my question is this - if you hate anonymous commentors so much, then why can't you just disable anonymous commenting? .
The way I see it, you're just begging and gagging for it.
And while we're at it, what makes you think non-anon commentors will be any nicer?

You must understand that this is totally different from answering legit queries or what-not from anon commentors
Now I don't mind anonymous commentors and even those who prefer to leave a name but not a website url, unless of course, they say mean things about me on my own blog. Most of the time I reply back but once in a blue moon I can't be arsed to reply. So in the trash the comment goes.

Secondly...the Indian embassy here sucks ASS.
Mink and I just spent like 1.5 hours waiting (9.30am onwards) for our number to be called..and when it WAS finally called, we got told very gruffly to "come later."
"Because you're passport is only ready for collection at 4.15pm"
"But we were told to come in the morning." [Insert visual of Mahi seething when she realises she could've have spent all that time sleeping]
"Come at 4.15pm" Stupid rude embassy bitch points at her watch like the two 20-something year olds in front of her still haven't learnt to read time.
"But we've been waiting here since the past 1.5 hours. That woman *points* told us to come in the morning."
"Come at 4.15pm."

Jeezlouise. What is WITH these people? Would kill them to crack a smile? Would it kill them to have a vending machine around?

Now as you must've noticed, World Cup fever seems to have gripped this planet (har-dee-har-har talk about understatement of the century). Now I know I'm gonna draw a lot of flak for this, but here goes -
1) I'll only watch a match if there's a hot guy playing.
2) The only thing I know about the World Cup is this - Germany and Brazil are supposed to be the best. How do I know this? Because I have Monopoly- the World Cup 1998 edition. And Brazil and Germany are the dark blue spaces and they're the most expensive to build stadiums/terraces. So THERE.

I was feeling a little guilty, actually, about going to Australia.
Mahi...you're gonna waste your parent's money on nothing but booze and partying and road trips and Russell Peters (Yup!I'm going for his show! And if you haven't heard of him then..somebody gonna getahurt reaaaaal bad. hehehe)..how could you?
And then it hit me.
I WORKED for that money dammit! I didn't take didley from my parents!
And allll was right with the world again =D

Oh, have I mentioned I'm leaving for Australia in 23 hours?

I'm off..I need to do some last minute packing, unpacking and repacking...

I'll definitely try to update the blog while I'm there and I'll definitely be checking in on some of your blogs...
Take care, all!

[Now wish me 'Bon Voyage.' Do it. Do it.]


13 June, 2006

Reason Is Treason

You know how sometimes its absolutely impossible to remain objective when it comes to a judgement? Coz there are just way too many people projecting their views, hopes and aspirations?

And you know how it is when you're pretty sure you think you've attained that objective state and you're good and ready to make a sound decision, even THEN there's this nagging feeling at the back of your mind that you're not completely a 100% objective? That your point of view is being coloured by those of people close to you?

Also, you know how it kinda stinks that you find yourself losing perspective every now and then? Especially when you know where you stand and what circumstances are like but EVEN then- you find yourself indulging in make-believe and you start absent mindedly groping around for your rose tinted glasses and you start (*gasp* *shudder*) imagining yourself as a character from your favourite romantic comedy movie.
Perspective suddenly become like a feather dancing in the wind, and the more you try to reach out for it, the more you realise its perfectly beautiful just flying away higher and higher. But you still have to try anyway?

Yea. That really sucks.


07 June, 2006


I've realised something over the past few days.
I've become all about transitions.
It's become like my middle name.

Everything in my life revolves around change. I won't say 'evolution' because that would entail moving onto a higher plane of things, moving to a better place.
I don't think some of my changes are good or neccessarily better, but they are changes nevertheless.

'Temporaryism has been the Black Plague and the Jesus of our age.'
-'Just a phase' by Incubus

I might come off as someone who likes things remaining stable and calm, but the fact of the matter is I like change. I wait for it. I embrace it and I thrive on it. I'll endure the change kicking and screaming, but don't be fooled for one second. I love it.

When I moved to Singapore from Lagos, I still remember the last night there. Friends all around us were crying, my Mom was inconsolable, Dad shed a tear or two, my brother cried coz he saw everyone else crying. I just stood there waiting for everyone to hurry up and get into the car that would take us to the airport (never mind that later on the plane I threw up badly and then fully realised I had left the only place I had called 'home' for 11 years.). Funnily enough when I came to Singapore, I carried about my business like I had been there for years.
It's funny how circumstances and the urge to survive in a place, beat the doubt and fears out of you. You just learn to make do.

Every Sunday my friends and I went to Hindi school ( our chosen second language school and a god-awful waste of a perfectly good Sunday). I made some good friends and some not-so good friends. The not-so good friends and I vowed to be friends through thick and thin, forever and ever. Well that obviously didn't last (it's always like that isn't it?). This was partly due to two things -
1) Friendships aren't supposed to be that hard, and you're not obliged to bend over backwards to ensure everyone else has a good time at the expense of your fun and
2) It's a two-way effort. Like much of everything else.
Anyway then I met Arpu, Mink and Roohi, a few girls I wasn't really close to, and whom I didn't think much of, at first. So is it any surprise that now, 5 years later, we're like sisters? We've had our bad times like any other bunch of tight knit people but we've always managed to sort it out, sans any ill will.
Out with the old, and in with the new.
It didn't take many tears or much drama to move from one group to the next. Fact of the matter is - when one party puts in too much of everything or wastes too much time pointing out what's wrong instead of what's right, the relationship is pretty much doomed.

Ahh and then comes the time when I take a shine to someone special. I'll make the first move coz I'm not the sort who'll beat around the bush much. But if I don't get anything in return, I'll walk on. No love lorn hanging around, no "Please, please give me a chance". It's frighteningly easy sometimes.
It's not pride, dear reader, it's being practical.
Moving on isn't really that hard. There are loads of other single, eligible fish in the sea and hanging around is just too much of a damn drag.
And since we're talking about moving on, there is never any moving back. Call it a defence mechanism or whatever you want, but it just doesn't happen with me.
We learn, we adapt and we move on to bigger and better things. Past mistakes are avoided like the plague - Fool me once, it's your fault. Fool me twice, it's mine.

If I get married tomorrow and I have to move to Timbuktu, I'll whine about how I can't get Starbucks there or how the transport system sucks ass, but I'll go and I'll be damned if I can't enjoy a decent life there.
I AWAYS adapt and I ALWAYS make do- with or without anyone or anything.
Because believe it or not- this whiny brat is a survivor.

Nothing really forced me to write this entry...it's not a barb at anyone..just randomness =)

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02 June, 2006

Miss Mahi Goes to Work (with KIDS.)

The Week is OVER and Mahi is all pooped OUT (um..not that kinda pooped)

Let's start from the start, shall we?

Since I was having holidays, I decided to take up a job offer which required me to be a facilitator of sorts, at this workshop. Think 'camp' sorta facilitator but without the huts, bunkbeds, bed bugs, stayovers, toasted marshmallows-by-the-fire and early wake-up calls no wait...those early wake-up calls were there.
Okay so it wasn't like a stay over sorta camp but it was quite literally the whole day- think 7-something till 5 something.

I must admit I was apprehensive about it at first coz well...it involved kids..LOTS of them...
And we all know how I feel about kids.
(I re-iterate, I do not hate 'em, some just annoy me...greatly)

So let's see..I had to wake up at the ungodly hour of 6.00 a.m and thought to myself 'Dude. You are so not made for this early morning business.'
Shuffled around sleepily, had a shower, changed and left.

I decided to be all miserly and take the bus.

This is for all of you who think I am a brat and I have nothing better to do in life than to whine about how I want to be dropped everywhere (a.k.a ALL OF YOU.)

So Yea. I took the bus.
You know sometimes your seat has place for someone else, and when people enter the bus, you hope and pray that the stinky guy-who-looks-like-he-hasnt-taken-a-shower-and-has-taken-a-dump-in-his-shorts doesn't come and sit next to you?
............And yet he does?

Yea that's what happened to me.
And oh no, no, NO, Dear Reader, it doesn't end there.
Not only does stinky-man sit next to me, but he proceeds to dig his nose to glory.
Dig his nose till kingdom come.
Dig his nose like there's no bloody tomorrow.
Dig his nose like there's a hidden diamond somewhere in there and he'll be damned if he doesn't get it.

And after he's procured his hidden treasure, he turns and stares at me. Just stares. And so I pretend to be very fascinated by the road and I stared determinedly out the window.
In my experience it is wise to not stare back at stinky-shitty-men.

The ONE time I voluntarily take the bus, I get THIS GUY sitting next to me?

Thankfully the day went much better.
I worked 4 days in all with kids of all ages and sizes and shapes and smells.
During times like these, I thank the lord for my height. It is waaay more easier to intimidate kids when you're towering over them.

The younger ones are so much more easier and sweeter to work with.
I would get "Teacher Mahi, teacher Mahi that boy is not doing his work!" to which I would smile and say "Okay I'll talk to him, thank you for telling me darling. Now go do your work"
(And then they'd giggle about how I called that girl a 'Darling')

I would get "Teacher Mahi, teacher Mahi I am nervous about going on stage!" to which I would say "Darling! Dont be scared! Just go up and have fun!"
(And then the boy would go "Eeee she called me dahling!!!")

Or I would get "Teacher Mahi, teacher Mahi I need to poopoo." to which I would say "Uh...go talk to that *point* teacher."

Nah I'm kidding.
None of them needed to poop, THANK GOD.
(And if they did..well all I'm gonna say is Kelso's poop is the only poop I clean up.)

Of course there are always the bullies who think they're better than anyone.
The height difference REALLY helps with making you look like alpha female.

Some of them cracked me up when they gave hilarious answers like when asked "How would you get rid of mosquitoes?" One cutie answered "I will SLAP it!"
And how they couldn't pronounce 'incandescent' (icandesent?...incasedsent?...icadecent?)
and 'flourescent' (fourasent...foresant..foracant?)
and 'instantaneous' and 'climate' and 'appliance' (apleeance)

The job ended today, I thought I'd be ecstatic that I wouldn't have to wake up and face bratty kids but I'm actually a little.....sad? I mean you guys know how much kids annoy me sometimes right?
I don't know man.
I mean I gotta admit some of them were really cute with their little pigtails and bell-like voices and how they'd look at you like you were so amazing.

Nah..I'm a toughie.

I must be getting soft in my old age.

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