The Internet is a real person. A lot like you.

 

I love the Internet. It's where I spend most of my time. Especially blogging. I blog hop a lot coz I like reading what people put in their websites/blogs. And when I comment their post, I watch my every word as not to be misunderstood or appear harsh, even though I disagree with their opinion. Or if I can’t find any suitable words to express my opinion, I just keep quiet and move on to the next blog.

People often forget that behind every blogs, every Twitter users, every Facebook account, there is a real person with feelings and very much human like all of us. So, before you turn yourself into a stupid troll and manically reply/write bitchy comment, think –if it were you that was attacked heartlessly like so, would you be able to live your life without having a slightest sadness in your heart? If no, then, your mother should name you Baby Troll No. 7519.

Be nice. Or leave.

P/s This is a general issue that has been brought up many times by many bloggers. It has nothing to do with my readers who so far have been very nice and friendly and comment without malice. To my readers, you know who you are and for that I thank you.

A Monster in the Making (Baby Making Part 11)

So…

My body is officially over and done with:

1. The crazy fatigue stage.

2. The OMG-YOUR-FACE-IS-MAKING-ME-NAUSEOUS-MAKE-WAY-PREGNANT-WOMAN-RUNNING-TO-TOILET-TO-BARF stage.

3. And the anti-social stage (Yeah I didn’t mention this before huh? Short version: I hate, hate, hate, hate socializing, answering phone, texting, chatting etc –anything to do with interacting with people. All I want to do is to hide in my cave and do my own thing. It used to drive friends and family crazy coz it’s like Balqiz has gone POOFED! Gone! Fell off the face of the earth!)

Now…

Now, I’m freakingly crazy active. My body is buzzing with massive energy wanting to do EVERY-FREAKING-THANG. Cleaning, redecorating, gardening, folding clothes, rearrange furniture –you name it. I guess that’s the reason why I can’t sleep much lately. Too much energy contained within.

This week alone, I performed few miracles –I bought 10 potted plants. It’s totally out of my character coz as everyone knows; I am not the domestic type. I am more of a she-male who unfortunately does not have a tiny bit of female traits like sewing, decorating, cooking, baking, gardening and all those shit. Most women cook to de-stress. I climb trees like a monkey and perform cartwheels to de-stress.

Then I bought 3 small cupboards JUST SO I CAN PUT ALL MY PLASTIC CONTAINERS in an orderly fashion according to sizes, type and get this -COLORS. MAD. Who does that? Me.

Then last night, I spend most of my time SEPARATING MY MATERNITY CLOTHES AND MY NORMAL CLOTHES into two wardrobes and all clothes are arrange according to colors, long sleeves, short sleeves, formal and non formal.

Let me just make this clear – I. DO. NOT. DO. STUFF. LIKE. THAT.

Before this, I just simply dumped all my clothes in one place and some ARE NOT EVEN FOLDED PROPERLY. I just don’t care.

Clothes mean nothing much to me. Clothes are just clothes. I am never a fashionable person in the first place and I don’t follow trends. I wear whatever I feel comfortable and I can wear it over and over without thinking, “Oh shit I wore this the other day I can’t be seen wearing this again”

That is until… Dum dumm dummmm! I get pregnant.

I spend close to RM1000 this month alone to buy… new clothes. ARRRGHHH!!!!

At first, there was a valid, strong reason to purchase coz nothing in my wardrobe fits me anymore. (I started showing as early as 6 weeks) So I bought some maternity pants, few dresses and such and comfortable shoes (I CAN’T WEAR HEELS YO! EVER SEEN ME WEARING FLATS? WELL THIS IS YOUR GOLDEN OPPORTUNITY COZ AFTER I GIVE BIRTH THIS FLATS WILL BE BURN AS A PART OF A CELEBRATION TO EMBRACE MOTHERHOOD)

Then the craziness started…

I browsed online for new clothes every hour of the day.

I hound each and every boutique in Miri and howl when I can’t find anything I like.

I get twitchy eyes whenever I see people wearing nice beautiful dresses and I feel like ripping it off her body.

I have this strong, intense feeling of wanting to look nice and to wear beautiful clothes made for goddesses. And when I said, strong feeling, it's more like AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAYWAAAAAAAAAANTAAAAAAAAYWAAAAAAAAAAAAANTAAAAAAAAAAAAAYWAAAAAAAAAAAAANT!

Then the Mister noticed something new- I only pick bright, cheerful colors clothing. I bought red, purple, green and I even thought yellow looks nice. YELLOW? PFFT. I HATE YELLOW. But oh not this time. Yellow is NICE now. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME? Old Balqiz wear white and black mostly and occasionally blue but PINK? RED? PURPLE?

Then I told the Mister I wanted to buy some hairclips and hair bands. He was like, “Hairclips?! You don’t even own a comb until 2 weeks ago and you want hairclips?! WHO ARE YOU?!”

And I burst into buckets and buckets of tears coz my husband doesn’t understand my needs.

Dear hormones, please stop turning me into a leaky faucet. It’s getting to be a nuisance to cry each and every second of the day. And while you’re at it, hairclips? Really? Sincerely, me.

Be Grateful.

Tyson said, "Young Cyclopes grow up alone on the streets, learn to make things out of scraps. Learn to survive"


"But that's so cruel!"

He shook his head earnestly. "Makes us appreciate blessings, not to be greedy and mean and fat like Polyphemus"





~Percy Jackson and the Sea of Monster

I Know.

We guard our feelings and we are careful to reveal our dark side because once it's out, it's out.

You can't hide your hatred, anger and jealousy anymore.

It's there to be seen by those you intended the feeling for.

I know who dislike me. Jealous of me.

Angry at me. As much as I want to tell them I'm sorry for whatever that make em feeling like so, I can't. They won't accept it. Nor will they admit it.

I came. I saw. I rescued.

She was leaning on a wall outside of a local shopping mall, hunkering down low on the floor, hoping no one can see her. She was weak and did not look well at all. When I picked her up, she frantically wanted to fly away but her wings just refuse to work and she knocked herself few times on the opposite wall and fell.

I picked her up again and this time she was too tired to do anything but stay still in my cup of hands.

She was no bigger than my palm. As I held her, I thought to myself WHAT THE HELL AM I GONNA DO WITH THIS POOR BIRD? With only one hand free, I dialed the Mister’s number. He didn’t answer. Must be on his bike somewhere. Then the next obvious person to call- My mom.

Me: Mom! Help! Crisis! Big mega huge problem in hand. Literally!

Mom: What? What happen? You’re pregnancy? What’s wrong with it? Oh no!

Me: Nothing to do with my pregnancy lah. I found a bird outside a mall and I think there’s something wrong with her. She can’t fly! She’s in my hand now and I don’t know what to do!

Mom: Haiya! Please don’t scare me like that… Well, what kind of bird is it? And how big?

Me: I don’t know… the feathers are dark green and she’s very small… I don’t think she’s a baby bird. I think she’s a teenage bird. You know… the size between a baby and an adult bird… Thingie? Gah! I don’t know anything about birds! But oh oh oh her beak is pretty long though!

Mom: Bring her to a vet. They will know how to fix her.

Me: Okay… But I have to wait until after office hour coz I’m on my lunch break now and going back to the office. So what should I do with her in the meantime?

Mom: Keep her warm and feed her. Mash some rice or something.

Me: I don’t think she eats rice, mom…

Mom: Everybody eats rice.

Me: Erm… yeah… why not. 

So I brought it back to the office, stuff her in my tissue box and throw in a piece of dates in it hoping she’ll eat it. Like my mom who simply thought all birds eats rice, I simply assume all birds’ eats dates.

But she didn’t touch it. She kept her eyes close and after a while, I started to fidget. BIRD, Y U NO MOVE? Y U NO EATS DATES? DATES ARE VERY HEALTHY! MAKES YOU POOP EASILY!

I tried calling the Mister again and this time he answered his phone.

“COME TO MY OFFICE NOW I NEED YOU TO HELP ME WITH SOMETHING YOU NEED TO FIX SOMETHING FOR ME COME NOW STAT!!!!!”

And within 10 minutes, my super speedy husband arrived and I shoved the tissue box in his hand and said, “BIRD! SICK! FOUND HER! WEAK! CANNOT FLY! DON’T WANT TO EAT DATES! FIX HER! VET! DOCTOR ANIMAL! ALL EXPENSES ON ME! JUST BILL ME LATER! FASTER! BRING HER NOW NOW NOW NOW NOW! GO GO GO GO GO!”

Turns out, the little birdie just had a concussion. Concussion? On a bird? Why not. Her wings are all fine and she just need time to recover and mend herself nicely.

The mister brought it home with a clear instruction from the vet to keep an eye on it for few days. The mister also made a little cage made out of… a small rubbish bin with twigs from a curry tree. The bird perched nicely on the twigs and shut her eyes close.

We even managed to feed her sugary water through a tiny straw. And she drank/ate/sipped on it nicely.

So can you guess by now what kind of bird is she? Yes. Yes. The doctor confirmed the bird is a FEMALE. GIRL POWER!

She’s a type of hummingbird!

That’s why I named her Humming Bee.

We let her out the next day and she flew off without a hitch.

I kind miss having her around. She’s such a tame bird. She doesn’t seem to mind me holding her and running my fingers on her soft feathers.

Humming Bee.

The consequences of not supplying nice wearable maternity clothes could be dangerous to all non-pregnant people (Baby Making -10)

I am at an awkward pregnancy stage where I am too small for maternity clothes but too big for my regular clothes.

I went shopping for few dresses the other day and being a noob in this maternity thang, I naively thought normal boutiques are strictly off limits and that I can and only must shop at a maternity boutique.

Since Miri only have 2? 3? Maternity boutiques, it didn’t take me long to finish browsing all the clothes and declare F*BLEEP*K THIS S*BLEEP*T THERE’S NOTHING FOR ME HERE and I had to be strapped down before I start burning all the frustrating CHEAP CHINA MADE looking clothes. Nothing looks WEARABLE and definately nothing that compliment a normal human being's pregnant figure. And they don't cater for my small size. To them, M size is small. To me, their M size can fit a white back gorilla pregnant with twins. 

Once I calmed the F*BLEEP*K down, I went to a normal boutique and hey whattayanoe! There are plenty of dresses here for me!

Consumed with greed and extreme lust, I bought 6 dresses for work, 2 pair of leggings, 3 blouses and 2 pair of maternity pants which I reluctantly bought in one of the maternity boutique store. I think all these will fit me for only few months coz I doubt I can wear it in my 3rd trimester. But, whatever. As long as I have something to wear to work rather than putting on a gunny sack, I'll live.

Long, long time ago, I would be camwhoring with my new dresses and post it here. But ever since I feel like an icky gila monster, maybe some other days eh?

Here’s one. Feast your eyes on the blurry, shaky product of a low-quality phone camera (iPhone) with no watermark FML-if-someone-steal-this-photo-and-use-it-for-personal-gain:

The Mister and I went to my friend’s wedding reception recently and since the original dress I bought for that night’s occasion SUDDENLY does not fit me anymore HOW THE HELL DID THAT HAPPEN so I had to wear one of my so-called-maternity-dress-which-is-not-a-maternity-dress-but-it-looks-great-on-me-so-tada-maternity-dress.

The wedding was glorious but I was feeling so… nauseous the whole night and was suffering from mega gigantic migraine stomping my head hard and when they served roasted chicken, I ran out of the ballroom and nearly vomited on one of the guest’s shoes.

And that, folks, explain why there is only one photo taken that night and no other.

The end.

The part where I try to convince you all I am a wild party person (Baby Making -Part 9)

Mom said I should take a photo of my pregnant self every once a week to capture the baby bump development.

But I feel fat, ugly and sweaty. ALL. THE. TIME. I can’t bring myself to portray a radiant smiling pregnant mother-to-be coz I feel like a slimy garden slug instead.

A pregnancy app in my phone said I should jot down all my symptoms, my feelings and my well-being everyday during this pregnancy. Reason: So that one day I can look back and tell my children that “Mommy was a slimy, icky, sweaty, smelly garden slug and yes, yes jot that down in your genealogy record”

Well, jotting it all down I can do. Blog; a platform to rant as much as you want. Suddenly I miss shopping in KL (Totally out of topic).

So anyway, latest pregnancy updates:

I think I’m over the fatigueless stage. I no longer DIE-DIE-WANT-TO-CURL-IN-A-FETAL-POSITION-AND-SLEEP-MY-LIFE-AWAY every hour of the day. I am now able to drive (without dozing off the traffic lights), cook (I still suck at it), do house chores (there’s a kind of satisfaction I get when I scrubbed my toilet clean and the smell of cleaning detergent… lovely!) and twiddle with vectors from 7pm until 10pm in the evening.

It’s pretty refreshing to be able to function like a normal human being again. I get a lot of things done and life at work is back on track again, the super multi-tasks-get-all-job-done-in-a-blink-of-an-eye is baaaaaaaaaaaaack!

HOWEVER!

However, I am now at the stage where I CAN’T F*BLEEP*G SLEEP AAAHMAAAIGAAAHHHH. Yes, yes I bet you’re thinking, I had plenty of sleep already last few months and now it’s payback time BUT THAT’S F*BLEEP*G B*BLEEP*T! Even a short 10 minutes nap is like wrestling a troll to death. F*BLEEP*G DIFFICULT.

And, and, and, and guess what? MY COUGH IS BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK! My bedroom at 10pm onwards is like the wildest orgy of sounds EVER IN THE HISTORY OF MANKIND I TELL YOU. There would be my cough that goes KOOOOONG KOOOOONG KOOONG KOOONG and later follow by BWEEEEEEEEEEK UWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK and remix it all together: KOOOOONG KOOOOONG KOOONG KOOONG I CAN’T SLEEP BWEEEEEEEEEEK UWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK KOOOOONG KOOONG KOOONG I CAN’T SLEEP BWEEEEEEEEEEK UWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK.

Tada! I make one hell of a beautiful music.

Thank you. Thank you. *Bow gracefully*

I think that’s about all that I can think of right now. Will add more when my brain is back from vacationing in her imaginary slumbering of bliss. Sigh. I miss sleeping.

Sunday's Brunch -Beef Kebab

1. Fry mushroom, carrots and mince meat with onions and olive oil to make the filling.
2. Once done, strain excess oil.
3. Then mix filling with a spoonful of mayonaise.
4. Stuff some chop lettuce together with the fillings in a slice of wholemeal pita bread.
5. You can add cheese if you want but I ran out of cheese.
6. Then you eat. Yummeh!

It is so hard to say goodbye... Then again, it might not be the end

Every time I think about it, I got all sad and weepy.

Even though I read the book 3-4 times a year and memorised every single thing in all the books from book one to the last book, it is still so hard to say goodbye.

And this is the first time I cried watching Harry Potter movie and the Deathly Hallows Part II really made me slobbering in tears and whimpering like crazy.

Actually, I wanted to write more about each and every part of the movie and my feelings and thoughts about it but Hani Blythe from the Story Book Love beats me to it. Check out her post here. I couldn't have put it better myself.

Harry Potter will always be a part of me. So many memories, so many adventures, laughter and tears after so many years.

Thank you J.K Rowling. You're my queen and my savior. It's been a glorious journey. And it is not the end. I will pray hard that you will bring your baby out to play again.

You kind of live it, because you grow up with them. You feel everything they feel and experience their triumph.

"No story lives unless someone wants to listen, so thank you all of you. Dan has already said it - the stories we love the best do live in us forever" ~ J.K Rowling

There are two MAIN weaknesses of mankind: Lust and Excuses

Scenario A

A young woman marries an old, fat and super rich dude but secretly is miserable because he is old and smells like her great grandfather (like, duh!)

The husband gives her all the money to spend, the luxury to travel every nooks and crannies in this world and own 30 fancy cars a year.

But she’s still miserable because her EXCUSES are:

“I am still too young to be tight up like this. I want to go out with my single and young girlfriends and club and drink and dance my night away”

“I wish I have a younger husband. Someone with 6 packs and oily muscled. My husband is just way too old and his flabby pouch is disgusting!”

“I was stupid to think that money can buy me happiness!”

She’s a victim of her own LUST. She wants an easy way out in life. She doesn’t want to work hard and wait for her money and success. By marrying a rich guy, she’s getting a golden pass for easy money without breaking a sweat.

Lust for money. Lust for easy life. Lust for fame. And then later burn by her own LUST.

Scenario B

A married man conducted an affair with another woman discreetly.

The wife then found out about it and confronted her husband and the other woman.

The husband said, “I care about you but I feel trap with you. You don’t give me space. You are boring. There’s no more spark in our relationship anymore. This marriage sucks”

The woman said, “I fell in love with him because he’s the sweetest most loving man I’ve ever met. We are meant to be together. There is no other man for me aside from him”

Kids, these are what we called: EXCUSES and LUST.

In husband’s case, it’s all one big fuckup excuses. If he really thinks his marriage suck sea monkey’s earlobes, he has a lot of options to either fix it or leave it.

Fix it: Counseling? Talking? Reasoning? A time out?

So there’s no fixing it. Then; leave it: Divorce. Breakup. Separation. Etc. Take the high road by leaving with your dignity intact rather than cheating your way out and end up having a messy drama.

Lust plays a big role too. If he thinks with his brain and not with his lustful withered balls, why yes, he will not be standing there branded with a hot iron mark on his forehead FUCKING CHEATER right?

The woman; LUST and also EXCUSES. Lust: of all the single men in this world, you just gotta ‘fell in lust with a married man’. Excuse: There are no other men out there for you because all other men are reptiles and only married men are human beings with decent penis heart to love.

Scenario C

A married woman with kids having affairs with not one but 3 men behind her husband’s back.

Her excuses:

“My husband doesn’t care about me anymore. He doesn’t even sleep with me anymore. He’s just too busy with his work. I’m lonely. I have needs. I want to be loved and cherish and pampered and woe. Since my husband can’t give me all that, what choice do I have? Besides, other men make me feel beautiful again, sexy and loved”

There are always other choices in life. There is no such thing as ‘what choice do I have?’

You wake up in the morning, you have a choice to either embrace the day or you choose to shut the world out and continue your sleep. It’s what you choose to do is the vital part.

You have a choice to cheat to get what you LUST for or you can try to fix your marriage. Or get a divorce.

“Oh but I can’t get a divorce! What about my kids? They will suffer!” Another EXCUSE.

What happen when her husband finds out about it? Do you think he will:

1) Throw confetti and celebrate the fact that he’s being cuckold all this while?

2) Buy her tickets to Hawaii and have a second honeymoon?

3) Leave you and take the kids?

I bet my soul he’ll take the last option. When that happens, do you think your kids would not suffer? Because of your thirst to be fucked, you just ruin your 10 years marriage and lost your kids. Who suffer now, bitch?

Scenario D

I own a nice car. Though it’s a small car, it’s in an excellent condition. The maintenance is very cheap and a full tank fuel cost me RM35 only and it gets me to places I want to go easily and efficiently.

But I want a new car. This is my LUST.

And my EXCUSE is I can’t fit a baby car seat, baby stroller, baby bags, swings, cradle, toys, lawn machine, sea turtles, malls in Orchard Road, water buffalo and many more in my small car. I want a bigger car to fit everything in so we can drive in peace without feeling like we’re cramp in a kangaroo’s pouch.

I want this car:

Can I have one Toyota Rush please? Pretty please with sugary lust and cherry excuses on top?

It's not for me. It's for my baby. I think ahead for my the sake of my baby.

(THAT IS THE BEST EXCUSE EVER AND THE BEST THING IS I CAN START USING IT FROM NOW ON MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA)

 

The famously charming part about pregnancy (Baby Making -Part 8)

Okay remember the time when I brag about how I’m one of those lucky bitches who don’t have morning sickness and maybe an occasional barf-a-little-no-biggie in the evening?

Yeah, I don’t remember saying that either.

You see, these past few days (which seems like a lifetime) my body has been in cohort with the very same demon that possessed Emily Rose to torment me for bragging too early about this barfing business.

Now, every 9pm - 11pm, you’ll be seeing me dunking my head in the toilet bowl for a full blown party with the stuff from my stomach. Wheee!

Two nights ago, I escaped this messy ritual and I thought, “Hey! Maybe I pass the test and no longer have to suffer!” and before I can utter the words out loud, last night I found myself zooming to the toilet faster than Lightning McQueen can say Ka'chow Ka'ching! I heaved so hard that I peed a little in my pants and the humiliation gets worst as I was making noises as horrific as a T-Rex fucking a wild boar and the whole neighborhood can hear me.

With tears streaking down my face, my hair ‘styled’ ala chainsaw-massacre-had-an-orgy-with-it, sweat, and vomit stench wharfing out of my every pore, I am convinced Michael Bay would NEVER cast me as the next Mikaela Banes or lips-so-full-I-can’t-see-nothing-else-on-face-just-lips-lips-lips Carly Spencer.

There are times I just put my forehead on the toilet rim and slobbering with mucus and sobs because barfing everything inside me feels so horrible. If every female mammals experience this during pregnancy, why I never see my mom’s pregnant cat heaving 24/7 or weeping in her litter box coz her husband was looking at her vomit face and she thinks he thinks her ugly?

Then again, I love all the new experiences! And I’m not complaining. I’m just sharing.

Bai!

 
 
 

I Lost Count On How Far Long Am I (Baby Making -Part 7)

Pfft. Yeah SUURE.

Of course I know how far long am I.

I track my pregnancy via Apple apps. Gotta love technologies nowadays.

I downloaded few pregnancy trackers for iPhone & iPad and these two are the best so far:

Click the photo above to download in in iTunes. It's free, helpful and very informative.

My New Header is up!

Tada!

Took me 3 days to find the best design that screams my current personality (Emo, rant-a-lot, dreamy and more often than not; lazy)

Took me another 2 days to find out my pen tool skill in Photoshop suuuuuuck wet monkey balls and needed more time to practice so eff pen tool for the time being (I don’t use pen tool much before coz I edit photos and not so much in designing)

Took me half a day to find the best vector and another half to LEARN how to manipulate a vector image while at the same time, learn how to use a Photoshop Illustrator!

All these while, I rely heavily on my Photoshop CS4 (yes, yes I’m so outdated I don’t have CS5 and above) Each and every header I made before this was made in Photoshop but when the Mister introduce me to Photoshop Illustrator, that is when I started fiddling around in it. I am still a noob but the basic is pretty much the same with PS so I catch on pretty fast (but I don’t have super lightning fingers clicking buttons within seconds though. Still am quite slow and relying on my mouse entirely)

It didn’t take me that long to learn how to manipulate a vector image (Intermission: I AM A SUPER FAST LEARNER MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Oh by the way, I self-taught myself everything -Photography, Photoshop, Illustrator, blog design etc).

I just had a writer’s block when it comes to the tagline. Took me a while to come up with something catchy and at the same time, simple.

I thought of putting one of these taglines:

1. Hanging out with Balqiz (BOOOOOOOOOOOORING! Didn’t I just use that like 3000 years ago?)

2. Hi I’m Balqiz, the OMFG-WHAT-WILL-SHE-SAY-NEXT-GIRL. Here’s my cat. (Who gives people cat during an introduction? Me. But of course)

3. Balqiz: Trying to curse as little as possible (For that, I give myself two wonderful words: FAT CHANCE, ME)

4. Balqiz: Human. Not a zombie. (Tempting. But it doesn’t go well with the new header. Maybe next time)

And that’s all. I can only come up with 4 taglines? Shish!

Then, I look at my last header. God. I can't stop cringing. Holly purple baboons butt. What. Was. I. Thinking. Back. Then?

The self-made vector is HORRIBLE. My maternity underwear looks better than THAT. Never again shall I attempt to use a pen tool in Photoshop to design my own vector. NEVER.

Then there’s the header before that horrific, stab-me-in-the-eyes header which everyone claimed to be oh so rebellious.

I STILL don’t understand which part of it that shouts rebellious? Did this header punch your grandmother in the face? Or run over your sweet puppy with a tractor deliberately? Pfft. People. There’s no pleasing em all.

Now, next thing to do is to change:

1. The favicons

2. The menu box

3. The side bar menu

4. The watermark

5. To figure out should I design a new 3 columns template or let it just be 2 columns coz if it’s 3 columns, all my photos will have to be resized to a smaller size which is a big HELL NO coz I like my photo to be big and wide spread. We’ll see.

And to design a blog button. Should I? Or shouldn't I?

And that’s about it. I changed the fonts recently (I bet NO ONE notices shit. Hmph!) and once all is done, I’ll be free to design my friend’s blog business. Busy designing blogs makes me HAPPY and occupied.

That's all from me today.

Bai.

P/s I don't have a cat now (I developed an allergy 2-3 years ago towards cats which SUUUUUX MAX) but I used to have a black cat named Bandit (it still make me cry whenever I think about him) so I immortalize him in my header. The black cat will also be the logo for my watermark and favicon. My Canon EOS camera is black in color but I made mine in the header purple coz I wish is purple in color and I do not own a flowery pants like that. Even if I do have one, I will look like a China ceramic vase.

I Have No Freakin Idea What Title to Put Here Except the Word "CRAP"

I actually have a dozen things I want to blog about. Unfortunately I only managed to write it in my head and hit an invisible publish button and knowing full well that I have a water buffalo’s brain, I forgot entirely what I want to write when I finally sit in front of the computer.

Another excuse reason is that I am currently obsessed with changing my blog header. As you well know, when I’m bored, I change my blog layout/font/design/template/header/color etc so most of my free time is spent blog hopping to get inspiration on what exactly that fits my fussy desire.

Being an Aries, a right brainer, and an ADD/ADHD with a sense of a doorknob, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that I get bored faster than an overdose caffeine flying squirrel. Once I change my header, my watermark will be changed too. And I intend to create my own blog button (though for the life of me I can’t figure out WHO WOULD WANT MY BLOG BUTTON but since everyone is doing it, yeah, yeah I’ll jump in the band wagon)

While waiting for my Illustrator to be installed by the Mister, I’ll just put up a photo or two here just so this carcass blog would not gather maggots and flies of many kinds *shudder* perish the thought!

BEST POOP FOOD EVER.

Normally I don't take yogurt but since it's one of the best thing to get wasted to purge myself to death to get my bowel to go regurlarly OH EM GOD TOO MUCH INFORMATION WOMAN SHUT UP ALREADY, this type of yogurt really rock my socks off.

So, if you're like me who think yogurt smells like burning hair, this yogurt will erase all fear and make your bowel sing EVERYDAY I'M SHUFFLING. It's YUMMEH.

Bai!

How long will I last?

“You STILL blog? O. EM. GOD. I thought blog is just another phase and it went DEAD like, last year?”

This was exclaimed loudly by a friend the other day.

I’m not offended. In fact, it made me think… If blogging is just a phase, why am I still here blogging for… what? This is my 6th? 7th years of blogging? What makes me stay on when other people flit from one thing to another?

The Internet comes up with many, many kind of platforms for self-expression, demonstration, publicity, networking, etc.

MySpace. Friendster. Facebook. Photoblog. Twitter. And the latest fad now is of course, Tumblr.

And here I am, still in my dot com blog.

Will I stop one day? Chances are, of course. In years (or months) to come, when work, family and personal matter takes most of my time, blogging will be just a… another phase.

It’s inevitable because people changed. Before this, my life changed maybe just a fragment. Next year, I’m going to be a mother. A BIG MAJOR CHANGE IN MY LIFE. I’ll still be working full-time still though (next year I’m hoping for a new position and it will not be as leisure as it is now). And I’ll be a mother. Will I have the time to tweak my blog like usual? Or write my rants? Or take photo and play around with Photoshop?

I see a lot of my blogger friends from single to marriage to mother/father and as they reach motherhood/fatherhood, their blogs become a time that stand still. Unless if they are a full time housewife/blogger, then yeah, their blog is constantly updated and alive.

I wish to be a full-time blogger and a full-time housewife. I want to take care of my children all by myself. I want to single-handedly educate them and nurture their curious mind. But unless blogging starts paying me double (or even half) of what I earn currently, that wish will be one of those things that I just have to fold ever so nicely and put it safely underneath my pillow at night as so I can weave my night dreams around it.

Till then, we’ll see how it goes eh?

Bai.

Sarcastic Retorts Exist Only in My Head

I’m running out of energy to pull a fake smile and answer ever so politely to people’s questions. The. Very. Same. Questions. Over. And. Over. Again. My sanity is rattling vigorously so here I list down my sarcastic comeback which unfortunately only exists in my head and never to be uttered out loud. Too bad.

“Wow! You’re showing already! Are you sure you’re not having twins?”

I’m not sure… the other day during scanning the doctor did muttered something like, “Holly molly is that a sperm whale inside her?” *shrugged nonchalantly*

“Do you want a boy or a girl?”

It doesn’t matter. As long as the baby’s healthy and burp rainbows, I’m happy.

“I bet it’s the hormones that causes all the pimples on your face”

I bet you were born through your mom’s anus coz I swear at first glance your face reminded me of the great white ape.

“So, tell us. How did it happen?”

Well… I was cleaning the living room and suddenly I tripped on something on the floor, landed on my husband’s dick and voila! Pregnant! What? Did you expect something more romantic?

“Where will the baby sleeps?”

In the washing machine or somewhere in the garage. The baby won't take much space.

“How are you feeling today?”

Gassy. Oops! That was me. Bask in my pregnancy glory!

“How far long are you?”

About 46 months.

“You’re glowing!”

Really? This smelly, sweaty lil’ old me? I feel like a garden slug but if you say so… Thanks!



“Since you badly want to get pregnant and have your own baby, just live with all the morning sickness, fatigue and so on. Stop complaining”



*On bended knees*Eyes looking up in heaven*Hands wide open* Sweet merciful purple monkey butt, give me strength to whack this lady’s head with a shovel and I swear it’ll make me feel so, so much better!



“Oh I hope what you’ve done to your Mom won’t happen to you in the future with your own child. Coz you just hate to hear your Mom say I TOLD YOU SO”

Did I tell you the father of my child is your husband? Honest to goodness. Would a pregnant woman lie?


Don't mess.

Oh. Didn't you get the memo?

Ummm... yeah. That. We've been keeping it low for a while and even though I posted the news here (Baby Making Stories), it was protected therefore only those with the password knows there's a bun in this lady's oven.

Thought of keeping it a secret for another 2 months or so but yesterday, the Mister excitedly announced the news in his Facebook after hearing the baby's strong heartbeat. I was surprised yet pleased coz hey, him being so excited is just too cute.

Please do pray both me and my pregnancy will be strong and healthy for ever always.

Cheers!

.

I Can Has A Dung Brain?

It all started with a tweet about a woman's dreams during pregnancy. On how vivid it can be and ... how out-of-the-ordinary sexual weird the dreams can be.

Then a friend tweeted about her dream last night:

I tweeted back:

Epic FML

 

Baby Making -Part 6 (PHOTOS FINALLY!)

KEY IN PASSWORD TO VIEW POST

(Sorry. I have to protect this post due to some personal reason. For password, please email me at balqizs[at]yahoo.com. If you're not working with me or related to me, I'll grant you the password sooner than you can say AUTOBOTS, ROLL OUT! To those who emailed me before, the password is the same as Baby Making -Part 1, 2, 3, 4 & 5) 

"Vegetables and fruits are your best friend...

... Major, major BFF during this time. Even when you don't feel like talking or hanging out wif your BFF, force yourself to do so coz they ARE crucial for your current well-being" quoted an article and altered a bit by moi.

For lunch today:

Steam Carrots with chopped garlic, salt, olive oil and mixed dry herb.

For dinner tonight:

Fresh Salad.

Ingredients for fresh salad:

Tomato

Green leaf salads

Boiled eggs mashed with tomato ketchup

I feel healthy already.

Unfortunately... I'm still hungry.

Every Word is a Prayer

I thought I’m the dumb one since I don’t own an oversea Degree/Master.

I thought I’m the immature one since I’m younger by many, many years.

I thought I’m the unreasonable one since I am irrational most of the time.

And I never thought, these people, whom I looked up and respect, are actually worst than me.

I thought being one of the patriarch means you are wiser and understanding.

I thought being highly educated means you possessed a high I.Q as well as E.Q.

I thought since you’ve been out and about, travel the world, experience a lot in life means you are matured and balanced.

And I never thought, these people, whom I see as a good example, are actually worst than the shit out of a baboon's ass.

Why?

Because of one small fault I made, forever I am hated and ban from their sight.

I was bitter at first. Angry. Vengeful.

Then, after a while… I smile.

You keep saying, “IF YOU DON’T STUDY WELL AT SCHOOL, YOU WILL END UP LIKE BALQIZ” I hope they turn out to be like me coz hey...

...Balqiz is a much better person than you can ever be.

You can never be worst than BALQIZ, unless they turn out to be just like YOU.

Because:

Turns out, I am wiser than you by being able to think rationally and accept things as they are. My thinking are not constrain to a rule I came up just to dictate my life. I can forgive human error because I made mistakes too. All the time. And I dare to admit my faults coz I am not God and neither are you.

You know what?

GROW THE FUCK UP.

Baby Making -Part 5

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(Sorry. I have to protect this post due to some personal reason. For password, please email me at balqizs[at]yahoo.com. If you're not working with me or related to me, I'll grant you the password sooner than you can say BOW CHICKA BOW WOW. To those who emailed me before, the password is the same as Baby Making -Part 1, 2, 3 & 4)

Baby Making -Part 5

7 weeks 5 days pregnant

 

I am a complete horrible monster in my first trimester. I am constantly dizzy, irritable, greasy hair (Did Medusa trade her hair with me?), zits popping out like mushroom, bloated, fatigue and so on and so forth I won’t bore myself with all the beauty of pregnancy in the first trimester.

The monster part is because I was told that I resembled a T-Rex possessed by the demon from Exorcism movie. The similarity was so uncanny. I snapped at people (usually I just keep quiet when people irritates me but this time, no mercy baby) I was (am still I think) particularly short-tempered with the Mister though he had been a complete angel assisting me in every kind of ways and how did I repay him? Sigh…

For the sake of my marriage, I pray hard my temper is in check until I give birth.

I hardly have energy to move let alone to do housework. All our meals were bought from outside. I spent my time mostly in bed, sleeping. When I’m awake, a slobbering bulldog looks much friendlier than me.

Though morning sickness does not plague me, occasionally I do vomit once or twice a day. This I notice happens when I’m hungry. And I get hungry a lot faster than usual. When I’m hungry, I MUST HAVE FOOD NOW NOW NOW!!! Or I’ll have gastrick or/and vomit my guts out. Last 2 days, I noticed I have been puking a lot around 10pm. I asked my mom whether it’s normal or I have a bad case of food poisoning and she said, “Morning sickness is just a term. It does not only happen in the morning but also all around the clock”

I asked, “So shouldn’t it be called something else aside from morning sickness? It’s deceiving. We should start calling it with a name as evil as it feels like maybe SONOFABITCHSATAN?” Mom just goes tsk-tsk-watch-your-language-now-you’re-pregnant-bla-bla-bla speech.

I still don’t crave anything yet but I eat anything that people suggest. Example:

“I feel like having salmon today for lunch” said Nurul and the next minute, I would be driving to a nearest restaurant to order myself a plate of grill salmon.

“I haven’t had Mee Jawa in a while” said my friend in Switzerland via Whatsapp and while I reply to her my response, I text my mom, “Me want Mee Jawa!” and mom would cook one for me.

I was watching Food Channel on Astro the other day and they were showing beautiful, delicious looking cupcakes and I was sitting thiiiiiiiiiiis close to the TV as if, if I get a little bit more closer I can taste the cupcake on the TV screen. I guess the wild look in my eyes and the unfamiliar slow growl coming from my throat scare the bejebus out of my husband coz one look at me, he instantly grabbed the car keys to drive to the nearest shop to get me a cupcake.

To summarize everything up, I AM A WELL ROUNDED MESSED UP PREGNANT WOMAN.

But I am so lucky people around me indulge me and allow me to experience my first pregnancy by listening to my rants patiently, cheer me up when I’m in my depressive hormonal mood, and never, ever scold me for feeling what I feel coz hey, it’s my first pregnancy!

My mom spoils me by feeding me with every kind of food. My husband pampers me by allowing me to be a sloth for the past 2 months, cater to my every need, cook, clean, wash, run errands etc for me since the energy I have is for me at work and when I’m at home, I transform into a slug. My friends constantly text and call me asking how am I doing and entertain me when I feel like crap (play Words with Friends with me!) and not to mention my readers, who have been emailing me giving me tips and advices and suggestions and etc.

Totally appreciate it all!