"What is it that you actually want for yourself?"
JY, standing at an impressive height of 1.58m, with her petite frame and small feet, trying to match my pace while we were walking to Nicholl Highway to grab a cab, asked me.
Before that I told her I wanted to earn a mountain of money, so that my parents will not worry about medical bills, I will be able to support my brother in whatever he wants to do and most importantly I will feel safe.
"But you wanted a mountain of money because of other people, so what is it that you actually wanted for yourself?" JY continued.
I couldn't answer her question.
It never struck me what I really wanted for myself.
In one of my usual diffusion tactic, I deflect the question back to her because I can't answer her question.
"So what do you want to do for yourself?" Pineapple Tat asked.
JY told me she wants to see the world before she gets married and to repay her parents for their investments in her studies.
Some people tell me that JY is a girl, I always tell them she is a woman. Hiding behind her girlish laughter, kiddish voice and small cute shoes, is a woman who impress me with her thoughts sometimes.
Yes it took a 22 years old, now almost 23 years old woman to make a 29 years old man realise what is it that he really wants.
Maybe after she has travelled around the world twice, repaid her parents 5 times over, I would still not know what I really want......
Showing posts with label Village Women. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Village Women. Show all posts
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
4 Seconds
Every morning when I am going to the office from the Lavendar train station, I would always need to cross this 10 metre wide North Bridge Road in 20 seconds. That’s because the traffic light has a digital timer counting down from the 'green walking man' to the 'red standing man'.
One day, I decided to challenge JY to cross this 10 metre wide road in 4 seconds for no reason. It would be an impressive feat for her especially when she stands at an impressive height of 1.58m, which means she didn’t have long walking legs. Unfortunately she really took up the challenge for no reason...
I guess her pride was at stake and she needed to prove it to a 1.71m man who is 0.13m taller than her. In anyway she doesn’t believe I am that tall and claims that I am only as tall as her father, which I suspect she must have put her father and my photo side by side to measure. Similarly I also don’t believe she is that short because I think she should be 2cm shorter.
The day came when JY and I were going for lunch and we were to cross this 10 metre wide North Bridge Road chasm. This was her chance to prove it. We waited for the digital timer to count down till 4 seconds remaining and then walked across. She seemingly float through the road in 4 seconds coolly and doesn’t seem to be making much of an effort to walk fast. While I was like ‘how come I can’t finish crossing it in 4 seconds’ and was like going to sprint. We must have looked silly in front of those drivers waiting for us to cross the road, I am quite sure...
After this silly incident, every time when I have to cross this North Bridge Road, I would always look at the timer and think of ‘4 seconds’, because I knew there was once I played a silly little game with a 1.58m woman who has proved to me that short walking legs is not a barrier to crossing a road in 4 seconds.
Not too long ago, JY and I were crossing this North Bridge Road again and we talk about crossing it in 4 seconds again. I told her the digital timer is gone and I suspect the traffic police knew about the dangerous little game we were playing and took it away……
(The digital timer is actually still there, I really thought it was gone that day)
One day, I decided to challenge JY to cross this 10 metre wide road in 4 seconds for no reason. It would be an impressive feat for her especially when she stands at an impressive height of 1.58m, which means she didn’t have long walking legs. Unfortunately she really took up the challenge for no reason...
I guess her pride was at stake and she needed to prove it to a 1.71m man who is 0.13m taller than her. In anyway she doesn’t believe I am that tall and claims that I am only as tall as her father, which I suspect she must have put her father and my photo side by side to measure. Similarly I also don’t believe she is that short because I think she should be 2cm shorter.
The day came when JY and I were going for lunch and we were to cross this 10 metre wide North Bridge Road chasm. This was her chance to prove it. We waited for the digital timer to count down till 4 seconds remaining and then walked across. She seemingly float through the road in 4 seconds coolly and doesn’t seem to be making much of an effort to walk fast. While I was like ‘how come I can’t finish crossing it in 4 seconds’ and was like going to sprint. We must have looked silly in front of those drivers waiting for us to cross the road, I am quite sure...
After this silly incident, every time when I have to cross this North Bridge Road, I would always look at the timer and think of ‘4 seconds’, because I knew there was once I played a silly little game with a 1.58m woman who has proved to me that short walking legs is not a barrier to crossing a road in 4 seconds.
Not too long ago, JY and I were crossing this North Bridge Road again and we talk about crossing it in 4 seconds again. I told her the digital timer is gone and I suspect the traffic police knew about the dangerous little game we were playing and took it away……
(The digital timer is actually still there, I really thought it was gone that day)
My Work Buddy Van
Van yesterday night asked me to please introduce guys to her because her mum has been nagging her to get married and she could not take it anymore.
As a good buddy, I told her to look through my Facebook and choose who she likes. Then the next step would be to introduce these selected unlucky men… no I mean lucky men to her.
Actually I have suspected all along, she wanted me to introduce men to her but did not directly ask me. Instead she has been dropping subtle hints and as a man, it is natural that I am oblivious to it until it became clear today. (It just struck me)
The conversations at work and lunches all along were constructed to tell me the kind of men she likes.
Like showing me pictures of men whom she thinks is good-looking, telling me how other men are doing silly (my own interpretation) stuff for her, her past relationships and what kind of men her mum likes. She also once gave me an MCQ test on choosing between three women in the office whom I would date, which I now suspect its a plot for me to ask her back the same question, so that she can indicate her favourite three.
And she often subtly hints to me her virtues, so that when I speak to my men friends, I am able to craft out a picture of an almost perfect woman.
She tell me her everyday mundane things like how she likes to clean the toilet, how she must do housework and how thrifty she is plus all the assets that are under her name.
So if you like a woman who can clean a toilet well (read: responsible), have assets (read: rich), thrifty (means everything you pay), indecisive (means you can make all the decisions), and obedient (means no argument) and naggy (means she is caring), please drop me a note on my blog and I will get in touch with you soon… Oh and also attached a full body photo indicating your height... And your income documents… Men who are good-looking or think they are good-looking are encouraged to apply......
As a good buddy, I told her to look through my Facebook and choose who she likes. Then the next step would be to introduce these selected unlucky men… no I mean lucky men to her.
Actually I have suspected all along, she wanted me to introduce men to her but did not directly ask me. Instead she has been dropping subtle hints and as a man, it is natural that I am oblivious to it until it became clear today. (It just struck me)
The conversations at work and lunches all along were constructed to tell me the kind of men she likes.
Like showing me pictures of men whom she thinks is good-looking, telling me how other men are doing silly (my own interpretation) stuff for her, her past relationships and what kind of men her mum likes. She also once gave me an MCQ test on choosing between three women in the office whom I would date, which I now suspect its a plot for me to ask her back the same question, so that she can indicate her favourite three.
And she often subtly hints to me her virtues, so that when I speak to my men friends, I am able to craft out a picture of an almost perfect woman.
She tell me her everyday mundane things like how she likes to clean the toilet, how she must do housework and how thrifty she is plus all the assets that are under her name.
So if you like a woman who can clean a toilet well (read: responsible), have assets (read: rich), thrifty (means everything you pay), indecisive (means you can make all the decisions), and obedient (means no argument) and naggy (means she is caring), please drop me a note on my blog and I will get in touch with you soon… Oh and also attached a full body photo indicating your height... And your income documents… Men who are good-looking or think they are good-looking are encouraged to apply......
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
The App That I Think I Need To Download
Yesterday I read an article from Askman.com on “Apps for girls”, the article mention that there are 10 apps that men shouldn’t be caught dead with.
Suddenly it dawn on me on why my life is constantly dramatic. That's because I am always working in an environment with so many women. Downloading a PMS Tracker may actually make my life better. (Ok very unmanly I know)
According to Wikipedia, there are “specific emotional and physical symptoms attribute to PMS”. (Sounds dangerous)
And it happens “ten days prior to menses”. (That’s a long time)
This is the killer: “More than 200 different symptoms have been associated with PMS, but the three most prominent symptoms are irritability, tension, and dysphoria (unhappiness).” (Wow…)
Counting the number of women in my team from a photo, there are 11 of them. So 11 x 10 days = 110 days. It’s once a month so 11 x 10 days x 12 months = 1,320 days (Hmmm that’s a lot of days). There is only 365 days a year, so 1,320 / 365 = 360% (Huge percentage!)
The figures 360% and the over 200 symptoms seems like a lot of irritability, tension and dysphoria in a month and I am not sure how I can manage that.
Thus I have concluded that I need the PMS Tracker in my phone, so that I can tweak my communication with every woman depending on their moods for those 10 days. (Very clever, pat on the back)
Now I need another app to tell me how to ask a woman when her PMS is……
Suddenly it dawn on me on why my life is constantly dramatic. That's because I am always working in an environment with so many women. Downloading a PMS Tracker may actually make my life better. (Ok very unmanly I know)
According to Wikipedia, there are “specific emotional and physical symptoms attribute to PMS”. (Sounds dangerous)
And it happens “ten days prior to menses”. (That’s a long time)
This is the killer: “More than 200 different symptoms have been associated with PMS, but the three most prominent symptoms are irritability, tension, and dysphoria (unhappiness).” (Wow…)
Counting the number of women in my team from a photo, there are 11 of them. So 11 x 10 days = 110 days. It’s once a month so 11 x 10 days x 12 months = 1,320 days (Hmmm that’s a lot of days). There is only 365 days a year, so 1,320 / 365 = 360% (Huge percentage!)
The figures 360% and the over 200 symptoms seems like a lot of irritability, tension and dysphoria in a month and I am not sure how I can manage that.
Thus I have concluded that I need the PMS Tracker in my phone, so that I can tweak my communication with every woman depending on their moods for those 10 days. (Very clever, pat on the back)
Now I need another app to tell me how to ask a woman when her PMS is……
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Rubbish Truck Theory
Mama Sim looks like she has tears in her eyes.
She said, “You are very bad. How can you call people a rubbish truck, they have feelings too you know.”
I know.
Mama Sim was able to relate to how one man in her life qualifies as a ‘Rubbish Truck’.
I was explaining to Mama Sim about this Rubbish Truck Theory that I discovered and how it applies to a woman’s life.
Basically a ‘Rubbish Truck’ refers to a man who will always be there for you but you will never be with him. No, I am not referring to your father or the IT man you always call for help but will never go with him for lunch.
How to qualify or know that someone is a ‘Rubbish Truck’
1. You have been ‘waiting’ for this woman for months, years or centuries to be your girlfriend, wife or mistress even if she is attached.
2. When you call her and she doesn’t pick up, you will call again and again and again until she picks up. If she still doesn’t pick up, you will SMS her. She just has to reply you.
3. You are the ‘hero’ of her life. Like superman, you will always fly there when she needs help, even if she did not ask you.
Of course there are more scenarios, so basically when she needs to dump rubbish, you are always ready and there to take her rubbish. Clearing her rubbish is your priority.
Basic Uses of a Rubbish Truck
According to Mama Sim, one way she uses her rubbish truck is to purposely go out with him to make another man jealous.
Here are some other ways,
1. You want to go out and you can’t find anyone, so you call your rubbish truck to accompany you. (Male escort)
2. You want to perform some physical activities but felt incapable of, so you get your rubbish truck to carry your shopping bags, throw your old furniture etc. (Labourer)
3. You have no idea how to fix your kitchen tap, how to buy a toilet bowl, why your computer is not working etc. You get him to fix these without paying.(Technician)
4. You need transport but the bus is too slow and the train does not reach the place within a 1 metre radius but your rubbish truck can drive you there. (Chauffeur)
Really the list goes on, as you can see having a few rubbish trucks is very useful especially when different man have different talent and amount of money. (Luckily I have no talent and not much money, ok that’s beside the point)
The End of a Rubbish Truck
In the end, all rubbish trucks will either disappear when you are married or still hang around as long as they have hope or sometimes they are just used to be around you.
They can get married and still call you once in a while to update their lives with you or even seek your advice when they are deciding whether to get marry like this,
“If you tell me not to marry her, I will not marry her.”
Something like that.
Of course some rubbish trucks do become sport cars in the end which these women want to drive and bring around to show their family and friends.
Maybe hard work sometimes does work…
She said, “You are very bad. How can you call people a rubbish truck, they have feelings too you know.”
I know.
Mama Sim was able to relate to how one man in her life qualifies as a ‘Rubbish Truck’.
I was explaining to Mama Sim about this Rubbish Truck Theory that I discovered and how it applies to a woman’s life.
Basically a ‘Rubbish Truck’ refers to a man who will always be there for you but you will never be with him. No, I am not referring to your father or the IT man you always call for help but will never go with him for lunch.
How to qualify or know that someone is a ‘Rubbish Truck’
1. You have been ‘waiting’ for this woman for months, years or centuries to be your girlfriend, wife or mistress even if she is attached.
2. When you call her and she doesn’t pick up, you will call again and again and again until she picks up. If she still doesn’t pick up, you will SMS her. She just has to reply you.
3. You are the ‘hero’ of her life. Like superman, you will always fly there when she needs help, even if she did not ask you.
Of course there are more scenarios, so basically when she needs to dump rubbish, you are always ready and there to take her rubbish. Clearing her rubbish is your priority.
Basic Uses of a Rubbish Truck
According to Mama Sim, one way she uses her rubbish truck is to purposely go out with him to make another man jealous.
Here are some other ways,
1. You want to go out and you can’t find anyone, so you call your rubbish truck to accompany you. (Male escort)
2. You want to perform some physical activities but felt incapable of, so you get your rubbish truck to carry your shopping bags, throw your old furniture etc. (Labourer)
3. You have no idea how to fix your kitchen tap, how to buy a toilet bowl, why your computer is not working etc. You get him to fix these without paying.(Technician)
4. You need transport but the bus is too slow and the train does not reach the place within a 1 metre radius but your rubbish truck can drive you there. (Chauffeur)
Really the list goes on, as you can see having a few rubbish trucks is very useful especially when different man have different talent and amount of money. (Luckily I have no talent and not much money, ok that’s beside the point)
The End of a Rubbish Truck
In the end, all rubbish trucks will either disappear when you are married or still hang around as long as they have hope or sometimes they are just used to be around you.
They can get married and still call you once in a while to update their lives with you or even seek your advice when they are deciding whether to get marry like this,
“If you tell me not to marry her, I will not marry her.”
Something like that.
Of course some rubbish trucks do become sport cars in the end which these women want to drive and bring around to show their family and friends.
Maybe hard work sometimes does work…
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Blood Type Ms A
One night, while I was engrossed with my work, suddenly a woman’s voice asked me…
Ms A: “Pineapple Tat, have you seen my drop of blood?”
Pineapple Tat: “What drop of blood??” (Puzzled by this unique 1st in the world question)
Ms A: “I had a paper cut on my finger and I flick my finger. Now the drop of blood is gone and I can’t find it.”
Pineapple Tat: “……“ ( -_-: )
And then we both stood up and look for that drop of blood, especially if it is lucky enough to have landed anywhere on you...
Ms A went to the toilet and came back to report to me the good news that she could not find it anywhere on her.
I know any man who meets a damsel in distress especially after she has lost a drop of blood would have called the ambulance, find a bandage, or bought iron tablets for her and would have asked “are you ok, do you need a hug?” kind of stuff.
However I believe in the concept of “Give a woman a fish and she will ask for more, teach a woman to fish and she will never look for you anymore.” (Ok I trademark and copyright this now, whichever works)
So I taught Ms A what she should have done.
Pineapple Tat: “Ms A, in the first place why did you FLICK your finger when you cut yourself?” (I was looking for insight which is also part of my job)
Ms A: “......” (Ok no insight)
Pineapple Tat: “Logically people would have gone and wash their finger first and then find a plaster RIGHT...”
Ms A: “......” (Ok still no insight on behaviour)
(One friend was laughing in the background because she witnessed the whole incident)
Oh ya... By the way where is that missing drop of blood......?????
Ms A: “Pineapple Tat, have you seen my drop of blood?”
Pineapple Tat: “What drop of blood??” (Puzzled by this unique 1st in the world question)
Ms A: “I had a paper cut on my finger and I flick my finger. Now the drop of blood is gone and I can’t find it.”
Pineapple Tat: “……“ ( -_-: )
And then we both stood up and look for that drop of blood, especially if it is lucky enough to have landed anywhere on you...
Ms A went to the toilet and came back to report to me the good news that she could not find it anywhere on her.
I know any man who meets a damsel in distress especially after she has lost a drop of blood would have called the ambulance, find a bandage, or bought iron tablets for her and would have asked “are you ok, do you need a hug?” kind of stuff.
However I believe in the concept of “Give a woman a fish and she will ask for more, teach a woman to fish and she will never look for you anymore.” (Ok I trademark and copyright this now, whichever works)
So I taught Ms A what she should have done.
Pineapple Tat: “Ms A, in the first place why did you FLICK your finger when you cut yourself?” (I was looking for insight which is also part of my job)
Ms A: “......” (Ok no insight)
Pineapple Tat: “Logically people would have gone and wash their finger first and then find a plaster RIGHT...”
Ms A: “......” (Ok still no insight on behaviour)
(One friend was laughing in the background because she witnessed the whole incident)
Oh ya... By the way where is that missing drop of blood......?????
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