I hate Baby Showers. The whole concept behind them is just weird and uncomfortable and gross. Women make me awkward as it is, so I wouldn't want to be stuck with a whole bunch of them for an entire evening, hearing war stories about how this person's water broke, and how this person was in labor for 12 hours, discussing intimate details about people's bodily functions, and having conversations which include words like placenta, va-jay-jay, and epidural. And I really don't want to play stupid games about "Ooh look who's baby is born first when this creepy plastic baby melts out of the ice cube it has been incarcerated in to simulate a uterus."
OK I'm gonna have a baby (someday), thanks for your good wishes, but it's a very private matter that's for me, my husband and my family, and I don't need metaphoric amniotic fluid in my drinking glasses, thank you very much.
Plus, the baby isn't even born yet, so what's to celebrate? Yes, I'll need lots of gear when the baby arrives, and if you really want to give me gifts to help me out, that's awesome. I'll set up a registry and they can come to me in the mail. I'll even send you a thank you card. But do we really need to have a big estrogen-fueled giggle-bash to give someone a diaper genie?
Of course, I have no aversion to parties, and I certainly don't need an excuse to eat cake - and God knows that pregnant women deserve all the sugar they can lay their hands on.
But baby showers, by definition, are intellectually stupidifying, socially awkward, and only reinforce the indulgent, giggly, feminine, "look-at-me-I'm-special-cos-my-eggs-work" woman stereotype that makes me want to throw up.
February 3, 2009
January 18, 2009
My point exactly
Character isn't what we think it is or, rather, what we want it to be. It isn't a stable, easily identifiable set of closely related traits, and it only seems that way because of a glitch in the way our brains are organized. Character is more like a bundle of habits and tendencies and interests, loosely bound together and dependent, at certain times, on circumstance and context.
-Malcolm Gladwell, "The Tipping Point"
-Malcolm Gladwell, "The Tipping Point"
January 10, 2009
A Creation Story
According to Islamic tradition, when Adam and Eve were banished from Paradise to Earth, they landed in separate places. Each wandered the desert plains of Arabia alone for many years, searching for the other, before finally being reunited at the top of a hill. This hill came to be known as Mount Arafat, its name derived from the Arabic word ta'arruf, which means meeting, or, more accurately in this context, meeting place.
I've often wondered what that meeting must have felt like.. what it must have felt like to desperately search for your love and companion in an arid and alien land, while struggling with the guilt and fear that comes with exile, although knowing that having faith in God is the only thing that would bring you through this trial.
Truth be told, the story of Adam and Eve is the story of every man and woman that followed after them. Their struggle is our struggle, their spiritual journey is ours, and it is likely that their marriage foreshadowed the nature of marriage for all of mankind to come.
I've often wondered what that meeting on top of a desert hill must have felt like. Perhaps it went something like this..
*Disclaimer: The following is entirely a work of fiction and isn't meant to offend anyone's sensibilities. Before you label me a heretic, I'd like to say that my devotion to my religion is unquestionably firm, but I also think a little humor never killed anyone. My intention is not to blaspheme, and beyond that, Allah (swt) knows best. If you still have a problem with this, well, tough.*
~Ta'arruf~
Stumbling with fatigue, throat parched with thirst, Eve raised a calloused hand to shield her eyes from the blistering sunlight and gazed into the distance. Was that a moving shadow she just saw, or another trick her eyes were playing on her?
But the hazy blur continued to move in her direction, up the slope of that hill ahead. Could it.. was that.. could it really be him?
It had to be.
With a renewed sense of vigor and purpose, she summoned the last vestiges of her energy and began moving faster, putting one foot after another in the sinking mounds of hot sand, ignoring the hot, searing wind that cut across her face, now determined to reach the top of that hill.
After what seemed like eternity, she had scaled the steep slope and arrived at the summit. And she couldn't believe it but there he was, waiting for him. No longer a mirage, but in the flesh, alive... real. After all this Hell, finally a sliver of Paradise. Her search had not been in vain. He was here. It was real. It was everything she had dreamed it would be. It was...
Adam: Darn it woman, where the heck have you been? Do you have any idea how long I've been looking for you?
Eve: [cold pause] Well. Hello there, Adam. And yes, I'm fine, thanks.
Adam: What's that supposed to mean?
Eve: Gee, Adam, I don't know. Maybe the first thing you'd ask your wife - whom you've been separated from for an unspecified amount of time while you've both been wandering the desert plains of Arabia - was.. "Are you alright?" Or maybe you'd tell her that you loved her, or missed her, or, I don't know, maybe even a "Hey, that's a hot date palm leaf skirt you've got on."
Adam: Hot date palm...? [sighs] Why is it always about sex with you? [pretend Eve voice] "No that's too much! No that's too little! Why is that angel checking you out? Why have you been frolicking in Eden without me?" You're always so paranoid.
Eve: First of all, this has nothing to do with sex, what are you on about? Are you even listening? And I'm paranoid? What about you? If you'd bothered asking someone for directions, we'd probably have managed to find each other ages ago.
Adam: There wasn't anyone to ask, genius, we're the first humans remember?
Eve: Trust you to come up with a clever answer for everything. You never simply try hard enough. If I were you, I'd have found me by now.
Adam: [crosses his arms] You know what, I'm done with this conversation. Forget it.
Eve: Great, here we go again, the famous silent treatment. You have serious issues, Adam. Have you ever considered why you're so averse to confrontation? You can never take constructive criticism. You know what I think? I think..
Adam: Eve, please stop psychoanalyzing me, you suck at it, and I really don't want to hear this right now.
Eve: FINE.
Adam: FINE
[both cross their arms and turn away]
[pause]
Eve: [turning back] Did you try yelling for me? Calling my name? Screaming to the heavens? Did you even miss me at all?
Adam: [rolls his eyes] Of course, I missed you, if I didn't miss you why would I be looking for you?
Eve: [on a roll] Hah. Yeah. I knew it, you didn't miss me for a second, you've never loved me, I knew there was something fishy going on between you and that angel, Satan was right from the start..
Adam: [indignant, but also slightly panic-stricken] What?!
Eve: All that time, I was suspicious, I had my doubts. But I told myself, "Eve, give him his space. Just make sure you're prettier than all the rest." So I bathed in rivers of milk and honey for you, I adorned myself with gold, I always tried to look good for you..
Adam: [beginning to worry] Eve, listen to yourself. You're not making any..
Eve: .. DO YOU EVEN HAVE ANY IDEA HOW ITCHY THIS DATE PALM LEAF SKIRT IS?
Adam: And you look great in it! Like you've lost ten pounds!
Eve: [waving her arms around] Ten? Try fifteen! I'm half my size, my hair's a mess, I'm darker than Satan's ass, I've got sand in places I didn't know I had...
Adam: [grabs Eve's arms] EVE. Get a grip. You know I don't care about those things. You look beautiful. You always do to me.
Eve: [sniffs] Really?
Adam: Really. Those angels ain't got nothin' on ya.
Eve: [giving in] Oh Adam. All this time, I've been praying for you. That God forgives you and that you're safe. I didn't care about what would happen to me, all I wanted was for you to be alright. I went without water for days because I thought you were thirsty too. I didn't sleep, I didn't eat. If I found some fruit, I gathered it up and saved it for you, in case I found you, and you were hungry. See? [shows Adam a handful of fruit]
Adam: [dumbfounded by this selflessness] Eve, I.. I.. don't know what to say. I guess.. I.. I'm dumbfounded by your selflessness.
Eve: Just tell me that you love me. And that we'll be alright.
Adam: [very seriously] I love you. So much. And we'll be alright. I promise. I'll take care of you. Forever.
And so, Adam smiled at Eve and tenderly took her into his arms, all his anger and paranoia forgotten. And Eve clutched on to Adam for dear life, thanking God for having answered her prayers to return him to her safe, and promising to do better in this world; this new and different place that promised equal measures of hardship and joy, that had been created for them, and was now theirs to keep.
And then they had crazy make-up sex and populated the world.
The End!
I've often wondered what that meeting must have felt like.. what it must have felt like to desperately search for your love and companion in an arid and alien land, while struggling with the guilt and fear that comes with exile, although knowing that having faith in God is the only thing that would bring you through this trial.
Truth be told, the story of Adam and Eve is the story of every man and woman that followed after them. Their struggle is our struggle, their spiritual journey is ours, and it is likely that their marriage foreshadowed the nature of marriage for all of mankind to come.
I've often wondered what that meeting on top of a desert hill must have felt like. Perhaps it went something like this..
*Disclaimer: The following is entirely a work of fiction and isn't meant to offend anyone's sensibilities. Before you label me a heretic, I'd like to say that my devotion to my religion is unquestionably firm, but I also think a little humor never killed anyone. My intention is not to blaspheme, and beyond that, Allah (swt) knows best. If you still have a problem with this, well, tough.*
~Ta'arruf~
Stumbling with fatigue, throat parched with thirst, Eve raised a calloused hand to shield her eyes from the blistering sunlight and gazed into the distance. Was that a moving shadow she just saw, or another trick her eyes were playing on her?
But the hazy blur continued to move in her direction, up the slope of that hill ahead. Could it.. was that.. could it really be him?
It had to be.
With a renewed sense of vigor and purpose, she summoned the last vestiges of her energy and began moving faster, putting one foot after another in the sinking mounds of hot sand, ignoring the hot, searing wind that cut across her face, now determined to reach the top of that hill.
After what seemed like eternity, she had scaled the steep slope and arrived at the summit. And she couldn't believe it but there he was, waiting for him. No longer a mirage, but in the flesh, alive... real. After all this Hell, finally a sliver of Paradise. Her search had not been in vain. He was here. It was real. It was everything she had dreamed it would be. It was...
Adam: Darn it woman, where the heck have you been? Do you have any idea how long I've been looking for you?
Eve: [cold pause] Well. Hello there, Adam. And yes, I'm fine, thanks.
Adam: What's that supposed to mean?
Eve: Gee, Adam, I don't know. Maybe the first thing you'd ask your wife - whom you've been separated from for an unspecified amount of time while you've both been wandering the desert plains of Arabia - was.. "Are you alright?" Or maybe you'd tell her that you loved her, or missed her, or, I don't know, maybe even a "Hey, that's a hot date palm leaf skirt you've got on."
Adam: Hot date palm...? [sighs] Why is it always about sex with you? [pretend Eve voice] "No that's too much! No that's too little! Why is that angel checking you out? Why have you been frolicking in Eden without me?" You're always so paranoid.
Eve: First of all, this has nothing to do with sex, what are you on about? Are you even listening? And I'm paranoid? What about you? If you'd bothered asking someone for directions, we'd probably have managed to find each other ages ago.
Adam: There wasn't anyone to ask, genius, we're the first humans remember?
Eve: Trust you to come up with a clever answer for everything. You never simply try hard enough. If I were you, I'd have found me by now.
Adam: [crosses his arms] You know what, I'm done with this conversation. Forget it.
Eve: Great, here we go again, the famous silent treatment. You have serious issues, Adam. Have you ever considered why you're so averse to confrontation? You can never take constructive criticism. You know what I think? I think..
Adam: Eve, please stop psychoanalyzing me, you suck at it, and I really don't want to hear this right now.
Eve: FINE.
Adam: FINE
[both cross their arms and turn away]
[pause]
Eve: [turning back] Did you try yelling for me? Calling my name? Screaming to the heavens? Did you even miss me at all?
Adam: [rolls his eyes] Of course, I missed you, if I didn't miss you why would I be looking for you?
Eve: [on a roll] Hah. Yeah. I knew it, you didn't miss me for a second, you've never loved me, I knew there was something fishy going on between you and that angel, Satan was right from the start..
Adam: [indignant, but also slightly panic-stricken] What?!
Eve: All that time, I was suspicious, I had my doubts. But I told myself, "Eve, give him his space. Just make sure you're prettier than all the rest." So I bathed in rivers of milk and honey for you, I adorned myself with gold, I always tried to look good for you..
Adam: [beginning to worry] Eve, listen to yourself. You're not making any..
Eve: .. DO YOU EVEN HAVE ANY IDEA HOW ITCHY THIS DATE PALM LEAF SKIRT IS?
Adam: And you look great in it! Like you've lost ten pounds!
Eve: [waving her arms around] Ten? Try fifteen! I'm half my size, my hair's a mess, I'm darker than Satan's ass, I've got sand in places I didn't know I had...
Adam: [grabs Eve's arms] EVE. Get a grip. You know I don't care about those things. You look beautiful. You always do to me.
Eve: [sniffs] Really?
Adam: Really. Those angels ain't got nothin' on ya.
Eve: [giving in] Oh Adam. All this time, I've been praying for you. That God forgives you and that you're safe. I didn't care about what would happen to me, all I wanted was for you to be alright. I went without water for days because I thought you were thirsty too. I didn't sleep, I didn't eat. If I found some fruit, I gathered it up and saved it for you, in case I found you, and you were hungry. See? [shows Adam a handful of fruit]
Adam: [dumbfounded by this selflessness] Eve, I.. I.. don't know what to say. I guess.. I.. I'm dumbfounded by your selflessness.
Eve: Just tell me that you love me. And that we'll be alright.
Adam: [very seriously] I love you. So much. And we'll be alright. I promise. I'll take care of you. Forever.
And so, Adam smiled at Eve and tenderly took her into his arms, all his anger and paranoia forgotten. And Eve clutched on to Adam for dear life, thanking God for having answered her prayers to return him to her safe, and promising to do better in this world; this new and different place that promised equal measures of hardship and joy, that had been created for them, and was now theirs to keep.
And then they had crazy make-up sex and populated the world.
The End!
January 8, 2009
Xinu Almighty
I have realized that I have a strong need to always have complete knowledge of everything that's going on, but I prefer to keep others on a need-to-know basis.
A bit like God, really.
A bit like God, really.
January 4, 2009
The Only Yash Raj Related Comment I'll Make In 2009
Mujhe toh kisi mein bhi rab nahin dikhta.
*sob*
Just thought I'd mention it.
*sob*
Just thought I'd mention it.
January 1, 2009
Happy New Year
Welcome to the world, 2009.
I admit it: right now, your purity and innocence are quite alluring - and contagious. Like you, I feel myself bubbling with the anticipation of what the future may bring, and I am full of hope and wonder.
Soon, you will bloom with the verdant spring of childhood. I think I'd like to join you in your excitement then: feel like I'm the master of my universe, believe in the endless possibilities of life.
You know, you will continue to grow older, and as you lusciously ripen in golden summer sunshines, I, too, will soak in your warmth and wisdom.
But then, I'm afraid, your lustre will begin to fade with the browning of old age. And from then onwards it will be a slow, but measured, march towards cold, grey, and certain death.
So, I wonder about you 2009. I am weary of not knowing what the future will bring, and I want to link my fate to your seasons because they are changing, but predictable; varied, but immutable. But I fear that I lack your resilience, and may not be able to cope with the birth of fresh hope, and also its death within the same year.
So, perhaps, 2009, we can reach a compromise. Perhaps I will borrow from you your current wide-eyed wonder, and view the world with a fresh perspective. And maybe your spring will bring new hope to me and I will be rejuvenated. And perhaps then I will then be strong enough to walk on my own, and could try to renew this spirit through the blustery autumn and snowy winter of your demise. And then I could join you again next year with greater optimism and cheer? Perhaps. It's a possibility. It's a start.
So, welcome to the world, 2009. I don't doubt that you will bring to me an equal measure of sadness and joy, but I hope you will be a friend to me, and I hope that I can be a good friend to you.
I admit it: right now, your purity and innocence are quite alluring - and contagious. Like you, I feel myself bubbling with the anticipation of what the future may bring, and I am full of hope and wonder.
Soon, you will bloom with the verdant spring of childhood. I think I'd like to join you in your excitement then: feel like I'm the master of my universe, believe in the endless possibilities of life.
You know, you will continue to grow older, and as you lusciously ripen in golden summer sunshines, I, too, will soak in your warmth and wisdom.
But then, I'm afraid, your lustre will begin to fade with the browning of old age. And from then onwards it will be a slow, but measured, march towards cold, grey, and certain death.
So, I wonder about you 2009. I am weary of not knowing what the future will bring, and I want to link my fate to your seasons because they are changing, but predictable; varied, but immutable. But I fear that I lack your resilience, and may not be able to cope with the birth of fresh hope, and also its death within the same year.
So, perhaps, 2009, we can reach a compromise. Perhaps I will borrow from you your current wide-eyed wonder, and view the world with a fresh perspective. And maybe your spring will bring new hope to me and I will be rejuvenated. And perhaps then I will then be strong enough to walk on my own, and could try to renew this spirit through the blustery autumn and snowy winter of your demise. And then I could join you again next year with greater optimism and cheer? Perhaps. It's a possibility. It's a start.
So, welcome to the world, 2009. I don't doubt that you will bring to me an equal measure of sadness and joy, but I hope you will be a friend to me, and I hope that I can be a good friend to you.
December 25, 2008
X'mas Cheer
Seen on a Facebook comment by someone I don't know:
"Santa is just an anagram for Satan."
Really? No, really?
And then you wonder why they hate Muslims. Seriously. *eyeroll*
"Santa is just an anagram for Satan."
Really? No, really?
And then you wonder why they hate Muslims. Seriously. *eyeroll*
December 20, 2008
December 12, 2008
Wow.
I haven't written anything in a while, have I?
Couple of things to share:
Finals weeks have been upon me for quite a while, hence the radio silence. I'm done with 3 group papers and 4 group presentations; only 2 individual papers and 1 final exam to go. And then 5 weeks of bone-chillingly cold Winter break which I'm spending.. right here. Woohoo.
I fell up the stairs a few days ago. How does one fall up? Well, I was running up the stairs, and because of my socks, I slipped, missed a step, and slammed face forward into the stairs. Badly bruised my right hand middle finger, so now.. I can't flick anyone. I also slammed the left side of my face into a stair, but sadly the shiner isn't big and black and blue. Hmpft. All that pain, and nothing cool to gain from it. Puh.
Slumdog Millionaire was quite good. Gory, but gripping. Go see it.
I love Chuck. No, seriously. Possibly the best show on TV right now.
And finally, I'm suffering from a strange form of adult acne, or as I like to call it, Pimple Whac-a-mole. Yup, as soon as I get one zit to simmer down, another one explodes. Looks like someone has given me the evil eye and cursed me with bad skin, or maybe it's just part of this crapola year.. which is coming to an end soon, woohoo! Let's hope it really all was just the curse of 2008, and that everything changes on January 1st. *fingers crossed*
What's up with y'all?
Couple of things to share:
Finals weeks have been upon me for quite a while, hence the radio silence. I'm done with 3 group papers and 4 group presentations; only 2 individual papers and 1 final exam to go. And then 5 weeks of bone-chillingly cold Winter break which I'm spending.. right here. Woohoo.
I fell up the stairs a few days ago. How does one fall up? Well, I was running up the stairs, and because of my socks, I slipped, missed a step, and slammed face forward into the stairs. Badly bruised my right hand middle finger, so now.. I can't flick anyone. I also slammed the left side of my face into a stair, but sadly the shiner isn't big and black and blue. Hmpft. All that pain, and nothing cool to gain from it. Puh.
Slumdog Millionaire was quite good. Gory, but gripping. Go see it.
I love Chuck. No, seriously. Possibly the best show on TV right now.
And finally, I'm suffering from a strange form of adult acne, or as I like to call it, Pimple Whac-a-mole. Yup, as soon as I get one zit to simmer down, another one explodes. Looks like someone has given me the evil eye and cursed me with bad skin, or maybe it's just part of this crapola year.. which is coming to an end soon, woohoo! Let's hope it really all was just the curse of 2008, and that everything changes on January 1st. *fingers crossed*
What's up with y'all?
November 24, 2008
Currently On Repeat
New Slang, by The Shins (Garden State OST)
True, I'm not trapped in a town I hate, but it does feel sometimes like I'm stuck in a rut I can't get out of. Plus, it's a nice tune and very calming. Almost Beatles-esque, except not quite as.. original? Can't think of the right word right now.
Anyway, enjoy.
True, I'm not trapped in a town I hate, but it does feel sometimes like I'm stuck in a rut I can't get out of. Plus, it's a nice tune and very calming. Almost Beatles-esque, except not quite as.. original? Can't think of the right word right now.
Anyway, enjoy.
November 23, 2008
November 19, 2008
Watchmen
Currently reading my first graphic novel. It's really good. Distracting me from work, but at least it's more worthwhile than stalkering on Facebook and Twitter, right?I think I want to be a crime-fighter. I wonder what my superhero name would be.
November 17, 2008
Tears Stream Down Your Face
Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you..
No time to blog, but I got sick of seeing Keira as the top entry on here, so I thought I'd add some mood music. Yes, it's Coldplay. Go scoff someplace else.
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you..
No time to blog, but I got sick of seeing Keira as the top entry on here, so I thought I'd add some mood music. Yes, it's Coldplay. Go scoff someplace else.
October 31, 2008
Enhancement
Check out the wonderful effects of computer graphic wizardry on Keira Knightley's, umm, girls. Or lack thereof.
Left: Real Keira, Right: Keira enhanced for the posters of King Arthur.
I mean, I knew she was scarily flat, but this just puts it all into perspective.
Incidentally, Scientists have recently attributed coffee to breast size shrinkage. So maybe Keira needs to really lay off the caffeine. Unless she's throwing up everything she eats anyway. But she should still quit it, ugh, mocha-flavored puke - gross.
Thank God I never developed a taste for coffee. Hot chocolate rulez!
Left: Real Keira, Right: Keira enhanced for the posters of King Arthur.
I mean, I knew she was scarily flat, but this just puts it all into perspective.
Incidentally, Scientists have recently attributed coffee to breast size shrinkage. So maybe Keira needs to really lay off the caffeine. Unless she's throwing up everything she eats anyway. But she should still quit it, ugh, mocha-flavored puke - gross.
Thank God I never developed a taste for coffee. Hot chocolate rulez!
October 29, 2008
Oh man, I'm so tired. I'm exhausted, shattered, knackered.. all of it. I'm running on 4 hours of sleep a night since don't know when, and the next two weeks are going to get even worse because I have so much crap due. It just.. never.. ends.
So, sorry for the radio silence on here but I just have no time to think anymore. The few moments I do have to myself - usually on the train home late at night when I have no energy left to read or catch up or cram more information into my head - all I can think of are things.. that I really shouldn't be thinking about.
What a year it's been. Seriously, I'll be so happy when 2008 and this bad luck curse on my life are both over. Only two more months to go I guess. I'll try to hold out.
In the meantime, just follow along on my life through my Twitter updates to the right. Microblogging is about all I can handle right now.
G'nite.
So, sorry for the radio silence on here but I just have no time to think anymore. The few moments I do have to myself - usually on the train home late at night when I have no energy left to read or catch up or cram more information into my head - all I can think of are things.. that I really shouldn't be thinking about.
What a year it's been. Seriously, I'll be so happy when 2008 and this bad luck curse on my life are both over. Only two more months to go I guess. I'll try to hold out.
In the meantime, just follow along on my life through my Twitter updates to the right. Microblogging is about all I can handle right now.
G'nite.
October 14, 2008
Three Strange Things Strangers Have Said To Me Lately
1) As I pushed my cart down a supermarket aisle, I felt a sneeze coming on. Since both my hands were busy pushing the cart, I simply turned my head and quietly sneezed into my shoulder. A woman standing 10 feet away from me yelled out, “Ugh that’s disgusting! Look at her, she didn’t even cover her face when she sneezed! You people are gross!”
2) As I moved my 10 lb bookbag from the seat next to me to make room for a fellow passenger on the T, a lady next to me snarled, “Finally.” I looked at her and said, “Sorry?”, and she said “No, I’m not sorry. Are you?”
3) As I backed out of a one-way Dunkin Donuts parking lot that I had accidentally turned into, a man drove past me and yelled, “It’s one-way, you fucking bitch!”
Yep, sure feels great being a Muslim in the U S of A.
October 11, 2008
Her Misses
I miss you.
Yes, you. Well, those of you whom I know.
Doesn't that make you feel special? :)
Yes, you. Well, those of you whom I know.
Doesn't that make you feel special? :)
October 10, 2008
Who are you?
So I've been noticing for some time that I have certain anonymous devoted followers of this blog, who visit the site on a regular basis but have never actually said anything to me. And honestly, I'm beginning to find this a little creepy.
Yes, I'm flattered that you read this blog so regularly, but you'll agree it's rather personal, and I'm a little concerned that random people I don't know, happen to know so much about me without even trying to get to know me. So, all of you people in Foster City, Fresno and Irvine, CA.. and at the NIH in Maryland.. and from Guelph, ON.. please open up and say something to redeem your stalker-ish behavior.. or you'll probably find your IP address blocked.. very soon.
Yes, I'm flattered that you read this blog so regularly, but you'll agree it's rather personal, and I'm a little concerned that random people I don't know, happen to know so much about me without even trying to get to know me. So, all of you people in Foster City, Fresno and Irvine, CA.. and at the NIH in Maryland.. and from Guelph, ON.. please open up and say something to redeem your stalker-ish behavior.. or you'll probably find your IP address blocked.. very soon.
October 7, 2008
I'm sick of you.
Yes, you.
The person who does nothing but criticize me, find fault with me, berate me, and keep telling me I'm not good enough.
Not smart enough, not funny enough,
Not patient enough, not respectful enough,
Don't call enough, don't care enough, don't share enough,
Not caring enough, not understanding enough, not there enough,
Not kind enough, not sensible enough, not mature enough, not witty enough,
Not slow enough, not fast enough,
Not thin enough, not cool enough, not stylish enough,
Not counter-culture enough, not dorky enough, not clever enough,
Not well-read enough, not well-connected enough,
Not religious enough, not conservative enough, not liberal enough,
Not aggressive enough, not mild enough,
Not follower enough, not subdued enough, not dumb enough.
I'm sorry I'm such a disappointment and that you consider me such a failure, but frankly, I don't give a fuck what you think anymore.
I'm sorry that you think I'm a bad person, a bad daughter, a bad sister, a bad wife, a bad daughter-in-law, a bad sister-in-law, a bad friend, a bad driver, a bad patient, a bad class-mate, a bad student, a bad co-worker, a bad citizen. But frankly, I don't give a fuck what you think anymore.
I'm sorry that my intelligence, wit and kindness don't meet your standards or that they intimidate you so much, the only way you can deal with your own insecurities is to tell me just how shite I am. But frankly, I don't give a fuck what you think anymore.
I'm sorry parents, siblings, and spouse; I'm sorry family and friends; classmates, coworkers and acquaintances; I'm sorry doctors and therapists, and people on the street. But frankly, I don't give a fuck what you think anymore.
Because I'm sick of you. I'm sick of smiling and apologizing, trying to understand and trying to make myself understood. I'm sick of being patient with and mature about your disgustingly high level of stupidity, immorality, pettiness, immaturity, arrogance and cruelty. I'm sick of taking the high road all the time and yet still be criticized for not being good enough, especially when you could never even be as close to how good I am if you were in my situation.
I'm sick of holding doors open for people, smiling at strangers, and apologizing when I bump your arm by mistake or accidentally cut ahead of you in line, because even though you'll never appreciate me for my acts of kindness or humility, you'll be sure to judge me and swear at me because I sneezed near you, or left my book bag on the seat next to me, or accidentally turned into a one-way street.
You don't want to know how I covered for your ineptitude, or left the room when people began backbiting about you, or stood up for you, or prayed for you, because you don't care about the good I do, you just want to tell me how awful I am and how I deserve all the unhappiness in the world. But frankly, I don't give a fuck what you think anymore.
Because I know what I am. And I know I'm good enough for me and that's all that matters. Please take your hang-ups, issues and opinions with you and shove them up your arse where they rightfully belong.
Because I know I'm more than good enough, I'm better than you, better than most people in this city, country and world. And I don't care if you agree or not because I know it and that's all that matters.
Honestly, it shocks me how you have the balls to tell me I'm not good enough when I can't remember when the last time you were any of the things you tell me I lack.
When was the last time you were kind to me? Nice to me? Called me? Cared about me? Helped me? Asked me how I was doing? Cooked for me? Helped me move? Helped me study? Helped me put together my broken heart and my broken life and my broken home into some semblance of normal? When was the last time you told me I looked nice? Or that I did good? Or that you need me, appreciate me, love me, are proud of me, are happy for me?
So please, all of you "well-wishers" who want to "help" me be "better" with your "constructive criticism". Piss off. Go fix your own lives, see how broken your own value systems and attitudes are, and worry about the damage you're causing to the world simply by being in it.
Fuck you. And fuck you. And you. And you. And you. And you. And especially YOU.
Seriously? FUCK OFF.
Yes, you.
The person who does nothing but criticize me, find fault with me, berate me, and keep telling me I'm not good enough.
Not smart enough, not funny enough,
Not patient enough, not respectful enough,
Don't call enough, don't care enough, don't share enough,
Not caring enough, not understanding enough, not there enough,
Not kind enough, not sensible enough, not mature enough, not witty enough,
Not slow enough, not fast enough,
Not thin enough, not cool enough, not stylish enough,
Not counter-culture enough, not dorky enough, not clever enough,
Not well-read enough, not well-connected enough,
Not religious enough, not conservative enough, not liberal enough,
Not aggressive enough, not mild enough,
Not follower enough, not subdued enough, not dumb enough.
I'm sorry I'm such a disappointment and that you consider me such a failure, but frankly, I don't give a fuck what you think anymore.
I'm sorry that you think I'm a bad person, a bad daughter, a bad sister, a bad wife, a bad daughter-in-law, a bad sister-in-law, a bad friend, a bad driver, a bad patient, a bad class-mate, a bad student, a bad co-worker, a bad citizen. But frankly, I don't give a fuck what you think anymore.
I'm sorry that my intelligence, wit and kindness don't meet your standards or that they intimidate you so much, the only way you can deal with your own insecurities is to tell me just how shite I am. But frankly, I don't give a fuck what you think anymore.
I'm sorry parents, siblings, and spouse; I'm sorry family and friends; classmates, coworkers and acquaintances; I'm sorry doctors and therapists, and people on the street. But frankly, I don't give a fuck what you think anymore.
Because I'm sick of you. I'm sick of smiling and apologizing, trying to understand and trying to make myself understood. I'm sick of being patient with and mature about your disgustingly high level of stupidity, immorality, pettiness, immaturity, arrogance and cruelty. I'm sick of taking the high road all the time and yet still be criticized for not being good enough, especially when you could never even be as close to how good I am if you were in my situation.
I'm sick of holding doors open for people, smiling at strangers, and apologizing when I bump your arm by mistake or accidentally cut ahead of you in line, because even though you'll never appreciate me for my acts of kindness or humility, you'll be sure to judge me and swear at me because I sneezed near you, or left my book bag on the seat next to me, or accidentally turned into a one-way street.
You don't want to know how I covered for your ineptitude, or left the room when people began backbiting about you, or stood up for you, or prayed for you, because you don't care about the good I do, you just want to tell me how awful I am and how I deserve all the unhappiness in the world. But frankly, I don't give a fuck what you think anymore.
Because I know what I am. And I know I'm good enough for me and that's all that matters. Please take your hang-ups, issues and opinions with you and shove them up your arse where they rightfully belong.
Because I know I'm more than good enough, I'm better than you, better than most people in this city, country and world. And I don't care if you agree or not because I know it and that's all that matters.
Honestly, it shocks me how you have the balls to tell me I'm not good enough when I can't remember when the last time you were any of the things you tell me I lack.
When was the last time you were kind to me? Nice to me? Called me? Cared about me? Helped me? Asked me how I was doing? Cooked for me? Helped me move? Helped me study? Helped me put together my broken heart and my broken life and my broken home into some semblance of normal? When was the last time you told me I looked nice? Or that I did good? Or that you need me, appreciate me, love me, are proud of me, are happy for me?
So please, all of you "well-wishers" who want to "help" me be "better" with your "constructive criticism". Piss off. Go fix your own lives, see how broken your own value systems and attitudes are, and worry about the damage you're causing to the world simply by being in it.
Fuck you. And fuck you. And you. And you. And you. And you. And especially YOU.
Seriously? FUCK OFF.
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