Category: Ranting Is a Right

8 people i avoid working with

at my job, i get a lot of different people pitching proposals to me. i’ve come to realise that i consciously avoid working with certain people:

1. people who have never done their research properly and do not know anything about my company or products.
2. people who do not title their email subjects properly. You know, “VISUAL” “PICTURES” “CONTRACT” “PROPOSAL”. where’s the context, hello?
3. patronising people who keep cutting me off
4. patronising people who keep cutting their colleagues off. yes i know you’re are the boss and you’re probably training him but you shouldn’t keep interrupting the young executive who is doing the presentation.
5. people who are bullshitting me. i’ve heard gems like they’ve got 30,000 unique visitors a day to their website. seriously.
6. people with fake accent who revert back to their neutral voice when they get caught off guard by my questions (refer no.1)
7. people who namedrop profusely
8. people who try to flatter me for favours. i’m sorry, a hundred thousand praises will never be able to top a 15 minute display of professionalism.

i wanted to make a list of 10 but i couldn’t. i guess there are not that many people i don’t like to work with, thank goodness. what about you, what kind of people you can’t work with?

wtf am i doing here

sometimes i feel compelled to abandon all this and go pro. pro blogging that is. no work, nothing. just make sure i look pretty all the time and take strategically angled pictures of myself to trick people into thinking what a great specimen of human being i am. then they will all come. all here to read every single menial thing i do with my life. and because of all these readers who care to read about the menial details of my life, advertisers would come flocking to me to give me free shit and money. money! why do i slog so much over some figures i could earn back in a few advertorials? yeah, i forgot. i care about how banks look at me. why do i care about owning a home and a practical car? why do i care about having a garden for charlie to run around? and a decent kitchen to have laksa parties? why do i get bothered by not having all these things? if i just put all my effort into this blogging thing i can even buy all those with cash, no? maybe i can even concentrate on losing a lot of weight and fix my nose. then i can be fucking hot. perfect. more blog traffic. more money. i can even write without caring about grammar. who cares about decent english, it’s obviously proven that you don’t need to have a good command of english to be a writer here. all you need is to reveal some cleavage and speak in a breathy japanese porn star sort of way. hell i can just plagiarise and nobody would even notice. cause i’d be perfect. right i already have cleavage. i can certainly practise speaking like a japanese porn star. i’m all set. so what am i doing here? at 40…will pragmatism be my friend or foe?

Period rant.

I’m at home with a big bag of ponstan. The pain started yesterday evening and hasn’t subsided. This morning, one hand clutching my tummy and the other maneuvering the steering wheel, I attempted to go to work. Alas, at the traffic lights between the turnoffs to Bangsar and Section 17, I decided to make a U-turn and headed straight for my regular GP. I was cramping so bad, I could barely look at my rear view mirror. At this point, I can’t think of anything more punishing than being a girl.

You got to deal with icky blood leaking out of your body every month and to add salt to injury, you have to be in immense pain while at it. Why the fuck? My doctor told me that I should get a thorough checkup just to make sure I’m all-clear. Especially since my Mom has a history of fibroids and endometriosis. I wish that someday, someone could grow babies out of petri dishes and then I could go get a hysterectomy done without any guilt to my parents and future husband. I mean, yeah surrogate mothers and stuff, but can’t procreation be less complex than that? What’s wrong with just having dogs?

Anyway, I’m just glad this didn’t happen during Oasis concert. I’m suppose to have blogged about it already but all I want to do now is to rant about my period. I was about 5 feet away from them (after a lot of elbowing and feet stomping, well who ask those inconsiderate assholes to push so friggin hard? eat my elbow stupids). The concert’s acoustics were perfect and they were sooooo badass. it was perfect.