Shut Your Mouth :P

Guess what! We finally put our Sunway Lagoon passport to good use after a long time! Sanzu, Pravs, Moots, Nar and myself went there yesterday. Mother Sanzu (named after Mother Theresa) came along but didn’t go on any of the rides coz she wasn’t feeling too well. Next to Jesus and Mrs. Home Minister, she’s one sacrificial person I can think of. We were supposed to get in the park at least by 1pm so that we’d come out early and spend time with Jusu and Navs but, God bless KTM and our time management, we were late (not surprised).

Reminiscing the first time we went there, we had so much preparation done. I mean Jusu and Sanzu did the preps and all I did was to hide the chocolates in the middle of our clothes. After all the staff there don’t unwrap your clothes to find stuff. (This happens when a bunch of auditors face internal controls, we bypass them). But this time around, we walked in like bosses at 2.30pm, freehandedly, except for Mother Sanzu. She was in charge of the bag department.

Pravs and I changed and then… the screaming started. I mean we started going for the rides. What I should have done was to remind myself zillion times to shut my mouth during the rides. You see, I’ve got this unsurpassed talent in screaming and the rides in Lagoon don’t help. Some of it was scary and due to this yelling routine of mine, I tend to scream all the way down and when we get pushed into the pool, fuhh, everything just entered my mouth. Idk if they realized the water level in Sunway Lagoon reducing yesterday coz me and Pravs were practically drinking it. Such whales.

Anyways, smart me reminded myself to not get my butt too much into the float coz some of the rides had ‘float stoppers’, I don’t really know what the term is but if your butt is kinda flat and too deep into the float, you’ll end up screaming ‘ouchhh my butt’ (like how I did the first time). Thank God my poor butt didn’t come off the last time I was there.

I had fun screaming and Sanzu was like, Kezi, I knew y’all were coming down the Vuvuzela because I heard you screaming like entah what. I’m a talented screamer and I kinda pitied Moots & Narr that they had to bear with us chickens. Trust me people, I’m all about girl power, but then these amusement park rides scare the hell outta my life.

We didn’t have much time to go on the dry rides (sorry Sanzu), but at least the other visitors on the Roller Coaster and Pirate Ship didn’t go deaf, because of you know who. Let’s say that we covered quite a few rides in 3 hours:

  1. The Kubarango – Pravs gave me a heart attack. She was coughing and couldn’t get up from the float. Oh my Lord, I was like wth to do and water was pouring all over us. I promise I felt like screaming at the people there to stop the water thingy. Then finally Narr came, used his senses, and Pravs got up. Hallelujah.

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    Look at our expressions during Kubarango. 
  2. Monsoon 360 – I prayed and asked God to forgive all my sins while they did the countdown. I was that scared and the people outside waiting for the ride told me not to worry and that I’ll reach down safely. How assuring. 25 seconds later, I happily drank Chlorine water and got out of the ride shivering.
  3. Vuvuzela – the usual, scream, scream, screammmm while Narrs and Moots laughed at my misery.
  4. 5D Waterplexx – I’m gonna bring an umbrella in here the next time coz water was splashing/pouring/coming out of some damn hole and wetting us. The wonderful specs they gave us had water droplets the whole time – how to watch the show? So yeah, bring an umbrella guys, to cover yourself and watch in peace. Also, dear Sunway Lagoon, you might wanna invest in Uncle Sivaji the Boss’ specs, the one with wipers. Thank you.
  5. Aladdin’s mat – I think I had osteoporosis or something. After getting up, my back felt as if I was a 60-year-old grandma.

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    Congo Challenge ride, but I don’t care, I’m renaming it to Aladdin’s mat. 
  6. Cobra Creek – the person in charge of the ride, wanted to send me alone. Coconut. To top that, he was even smoking. Was so nearing to slapping him (virtually), but then Pravs got on the float and off we went. God saved him from my wrath.
  7. Boa Constrictor – not sure if that’s the name of the ride. But not bad, I got to do my hobby – scream.
  8. African Pythons – scream, scream and waiting when the world we would see light. It was pitch black but not so scary. Finally saw Sanzu taking pics of us.
  9. Cameron Climb – Was very particular about not getting my butt hurt here. Survived it successfully!
  10. Surf Beach – Pravs would have died if not for me. Moots & Narrs are such bullies, they were tryna hold her under water. Donkeys. I feel like a saviour. (You can thank me later Pravs).

The sad thing is that our passports are ending on 25th January. For the next 1 week, I feel like putting up every day in Lagoon now that I don’t have classes but I’ll be alone. How I wish my group of monkeys (read: friends) can work our schedules and head there one last time. I badly want to scream in Jusu and Sanzu ears the next time <3. #soomuchlove.

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What If…

Happy New Year 2018!

I know you’re probably thinking wth Kezia, get a calendar for yourself it’s freaking 17th January and you finally say Happy New Year?! What a disgrace.

Okay sorry, so here’s the thing I’ve been ultra busy. By busy, I meant that I needed to catch up with all the house chores, read my novels (957 pages, done within 10 hours), have a Masterchef marathon to inspire myself to cook and not burn the house. 10 videos later, I’m still finding inspiration, coz, fuh the small lil kids from Masterchef Junior are like saying fancy words such as zucchini, seared salmon, mashed petaytoes (that’s how they pronounce the word ‘Potatoes’, I got it after some time), and a list of stuff. They know how to cook weyh, I cannot tahan. My self-esteem is somewhere near the drain in my house. But it’s okay, sis sabar, I’m still doing good with my milo making, spreading Nutella on my bread, heating up the curry from the fridge, and making half-boiled eggs.

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Speaking about Master Chefs. Mrs. Home Minister is kinda disturbed at how the Masterchefs from Australia waste one block of butter to cook a few potatoes. Few potatoes as is just 3-4 medium sized cubes. And she’s like, now we know wth Michelin star restaurants is super expensive, they need to cover for the ingredients they’ve wasted. So dear chefs from gourmet restaurants, in case you’re reading my blog (idk why you would, but in case you do), please explain your wasteful behavior to my mum. She is really concerned.

Reason No. #2

I don’t really know how others write, or how they get themselves to write, but for me, I usually blog when I’m happy. But don’t get me wrong, the number of posts doesn’t represent the times I’ve been happy coz I’ve been a way happier than the 21 posts I’ve written. However, ever since 1st Jan 2018, I have a bunch of ‘What If’s and they’ve been worrying me.

Here are some examples:

  • what if some coconut (I meant guy) comes to ponne pakeran
  • what if the mango tree falls
  • what if Malaysia ends up with a new season like winter
  • what if San & Shoransotong leave Seremban to further study
  • what if I grow shorter
  • what if I don’t pass P3

LOL. So the main thing which has been on my mind was what if I don’t pass ACCA’s P3. Almost a year ago, I had one nightmare with F9 and that was enough. Therefore, I was probably the holiest & best person both Jesus & God had witnessed for the past one and a half months.

I had lesser wars with G, did all the house chores, went for all the church meetings (I always do okay), I tried to like the people I dislike – I cannot love love all la. Too over. Besides, my name is Kezia (not Jesus) and fared well. Thank God I didn’t take my serrupe (slippers) and whack them whenever they said something stupid. Plus whenever I thought of mentally slapping, pulling their hair, whacking them with my heels, I thought of my P3 results and calmed myself down.

Finally, the day came, and by God’s grace, I passed P3 – wohoo. All my efforts of being like Mother Kezia (Mother Theresa) and Mahatma Ruth (Mahatma Gandhi) were paid off!

So now that my results are out, you probably think I can just lash anyone I dislike right? But nope, you’re wrong… I still have P1 to sit for. I badly need to be a good girl and pass it before the damn SBL thingy comes out. I ain’t sitting for P1 and P3 again baby.

Praying so hard that no one gets on my nerves very seriously for the next few months.

But coming to think of all the ‘nice’ things I’ve handled calmly, throughout the past months, it seems like good idea to handle evil with good. Thank God the Bible only says to love your enemies, not hug your enemies whenever you see them. That would have been so susah bhai. Jokes asides, it feels good to be at peace and carry with life, whilst those who irritate/annoy/aggravate you stay the same coz it runs in their DNA. Therefore, as much as I previously thought that I should be a bit angel-like till I pass the remaining papers in ACCA, I guess, it’s best to stay that way lifelong. After all, what you sow that’s what you will reap a.k.a karma.

Also to the (5) people who read my blog relentlessly, please pray that I don’t be such a lazy bum bum and blog more frequently.

Lastly, here is another one of Gordon’s insults. If you don’t get it, please pray for yourself, you need a sense of humour. xoxo, Kezia.

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Turning Twenteen

21 days ago, I turned 20 (it’s pronounced twenteen, because I cannot accept the letters ‘ty’ when I state my age). The back pains and heel pains, as well as headaches I get, are a clear sign that – I am aging (sobs, I sound so old). Well, that reminds me to wear high heels less often too. But in case you know me, you know my hatred for kitten heels, like hello, you either wear flats or 4 inches. No in-betweens please, coz those 2 inches heels are considered a disgrace to the high heel wearing community. Okay, no more rants about being old, old is gold –  also no one wears gold anymore. (double ouch).

Now, to be decent enough, I’ll give you a recap of almost everything which took my breath away. After all, my twenteenth (20th) year was ah-mazing, filled with discoveries, rediscoveries and most importantly – they year I fell in love.

So as every other normal person, I lived a life, not knowing what to expect and trying to control what happened the next day, till I got sick and tired of everything. Like literally everything. There was a time I was so happy about everything around and I thought to myself – how good can life get than this, and then God showed me how he could turn things upside down, left side right.

A few days passed and finally, I fell in love. (Thank God la I didn’t have to wait so long)

It all happened one day when I was thinking about how and why my pretty cupcake-like life had turned as sour as uruga (pickle) just then I saw a car stopped right in front of me and the bumper sticker read ‘GOD LOVES YOU’. You know, that feeling, of blood rushing directly to your brain when your crush smiles, yeah, I had that #peeling after looking at those words.

I mean every week Pastor says that ‘God Loves You’ phrase at least 2 million times during a meeting but it never hit me so hard. That’s why for errumemaades (buffaloes) like me, God turns your life upside down, so that you finally realize that God loves you and come back to Him! Then I thought to myself, idiot you Kezia, you could have left this to God from the start. Surprising, I was totally okay with everything which had happened. The best thing was, I didn’t have to be in control of my life, but rather He took the lead. It took me some time, knowing that my plans weren’t God’s and his plans were a way higher than mine!

Talking about plans and ways. Last year, I was so free to plan and come up with my resolutions. You can read it here and let’s see how far I fared.

  1. Learning How to Cook

To be safe I’ll learn how to cook once Mr. Prime Minister buys another house. Just in case I burn the one we are currently living in, we will always have a backup. Also, I was supposed to learn how to cook simple meals in the rice cooker, cooking rice is simple enough, so yeah. Mr Prince Charming I hope you can survive with plain rice and milo. This will also teach you to not ponne pakkeran me in the next 4 years. (you’ve been warned).

2. Blog

I’ve blogged around 19 times and considering my as-busy-as-Barack-Obama lifestyle – not bad!

3. Being more Godly

Yes, more than last year for sure. (Jesus, remember the time I finally fell in love with you? that counts) And another thing, I spent around 15 hours a day in church during Seremban convention. I ate, mandi and practically did everything there – that’s a whole lot of being holy!

4. Saving my hair

Oh my poor hair. Yays, I finally got back my curls and no turning back to ironing/relaxing/doing any crappy stuff which involves heat! For the record, I didn’t put avocado or cow dung on my hair ‘coz Family Store Seremban doesn’t sell it and I’m really busy to go elsewhere and find.

So much of happiness this year and I cannot express how blessed I feel. Many things fun things have happened (which I need to write) and G is always like Kezia when you gonna write this and when you gonna write that and I’m like, G when you gonna keep quiet? I can’t possibly write everything which made me smile this year but I can tell you about three groups of people who made my year <3.

#1. People in the Parliament:

Mr. Prime Minister & Mrs. Home Minister – the only people who love and care so much that they give me all the free lectures on how I should be more responsible by doing housework, switch of the toilet lights and not throw my heels all around the house.

G – we’re always at war, so much, that my dad is thinking of building a small tent in my house compound so that he and amma can move out there whenever we fight. But what to do, at the end of the day, I need someone to take my pictures and react to my FB posts, so we finally end our wars. Also, she does my hair, so we don’t fight on Sunday mornings, coz I need to look nice to church. Therefore if you see me looking nice, not with my chicken backside-like hairstyle in church, it’s her effort.

Then, Sanzu & Jusu-bin.

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Met Ms Michael Kors & Chapati

The two people who get some much of coverage on my Insta -stories because everything is absolutely fun when they’re around. God knows how I found them in college and we became friends but I pray they stay anti-social so I’ll be the only adorable person they’ll have to handle. It’s fun when your fun sized, and your friends are tall, you get to be the boss and also they do things like holding your hands when you cross the road. Oh Lord.

 

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Last but not least, the people whom I meet like 3 times a week all year round – Bridesmaid Band.

IMG_2372One of our best memories this was the Youth Camp – an eye-opener + holiday for the 6 of us. God bless the torch lights we used to shine on our way to the washroom. Nothing beats 6 of us scrunched on those beds – laughing. Also, dear aunty/uncle/whomever who split the 6 of us and put us in different rooms, this will teach you that your efforts to split us, as always, will be in vain. Thank God I didn’t bring my heels there, ‘coz oh my goodness, my feet would have cried in Spanish. The ground was so so so uneven! Also, in case you read my post here, you might know our love for washing toilets. Yes, you read it right – washing toilets (but only the ones in church la okay).

Andddd… That’s a wrap for this year! I got to go get ready for our Year End service in church. Hoping that in 2018, God makes everything beautiful in His time! (so holy, Amen!)

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Bridesmaid Band – 1 (Sharon)

 

 

 

Have a great year ahead! Love, Kezia ❤

2 States

The book 2 States: The Story of My Marriage by Chetan Bhagat depicts the love story of a guy and girl in 2 states (duh) – Punjab and India, who face hardships in convincing their parents to approve of their marriage.

Here’s my version of 2 States, and don’t worry, as of now it doesn’t involve my marriage (idk if in the future it might…) Also, for literary purposes, please consider Klang as a state, although it isn’t.

If there was one place I disliked going was to Klang. I don’t really know if its the pollution, the people or the fact that Klang trains were always packed, but I hated Klang. The only few times I went there for our church convention, which I had to obviously tag along and an akka’s wedding I badly wanted to dress up for. Bridesmaid Band knew how much I disliked that place and the list of things I told them not to do, including marrying anyone from Klang.

Incase you’re from Klang, or you were born in Klang or you love Klang (idk for what reason), before your blood boils and curdles, I pray you read the entire post. (pheww)

2 States: My story of Almost Considering Another City – Home. 

It all started off on a fine day – I woke up after my evening nap in SandRay’s house wondering why the heck my heart was racing. Little did I know that it was a sign that something was about to go wrong. Everything that day was instagram perfect, I had fun uploading videos of the kids on my insta stories except for the fact that we went to Ray’s school like a coconut to pick her non-existent PT3 results. (yes, we should have cross-checked if the results would be out that day, but lol – who cares). And then there came a call from MC akka who told me that Acha was leaving Seremban. My instant reaction was – wth, why, why, why? I was always confident that he would stay a little longer here, and no transfers at least for a year. But you know what, Kezia’s confidence in certain matters for the past few times have been absolutely wrong and this was one of it.

The three of us (San, Ray, myself) opened the water works, and water started gushing out from those God given pools. The 10 minute car ride to church was melancholic. An eternity had seemed to pass by the time we reached church for Children’s Day practice and A anneh’s frantic efforts in making us talk was in sheer vain. Conversations regarding the broken pipe in SanRay’s house toilet was shushed due to the wiping of our silent tears.

Nope, no one died. But the feeling that someone so close is going to leave, left us with so much fear, anxiety and questions. Why so fast? We could have blamed the sun, moon, stars and whatsoever but then God’s leading, no man can defy. That day, during Childrens’ day practice, every time Acha walked past, it was a tought battle between tearing eyes and seeping smiles. As much as we didn’t want ourselves to be sad, reality shook us in our face on Sunday.

I least cared if my kids action songs were recorded because I knew that the Childrens’ Day atmosphere was just pent up with so much sadness. We told 16 Hallelujahs for the last time in 6 months and prepared our hearts for the great goodbye.

By then, I had decided that Klang was our dead enemy. Like why, K L A N G? Not enough with the pollution, traffic jam, annoying people and now you’re taking our Acha away? (i was so emotional, guys)

The night before the great goodbye, was rather confusing. Matters arose and we couldn’t sleepover with Bridesmaid Band and I was rather annoyed at that fact. Brushing those petty matters aside, brave me rose the next morning and vowed to never step my foot in Klang. But you know what, lately my plans haven’t been working out and I was actually going to send of Acha in Klang. Duh. Not much tears in the van, except for mummy who teared occasionally. We kids had lots of fun with Erica and Jute boy. The so called 2 hour ride to Klang (I thought it took 2 hrs from Seremban) was done in 1 hr 15 mins – all the more reasons to fret.

We had cakes, tried to make ourselves home in Klang church but well, nothing is like Seremban. Seremban is home. But as the clock ticked, we had spent around 2 hours and there came a sense of belonging and wave whispering that we’d come here more often now. Honestly, at the end of it, I didn’t mind staying in Klang – at all. Of course Acha had to leave to KL and we had a short prayer before he left. That was the time I knew my true potential in crying. I had burst into tears and thank God for my mini hand, I could cover my mouth and not allow those lil stiffles to be heard. The more he advised us, the more tears flowed and within the next few minutes, Sandra and I had turned into a waterfall.

As he left, we rushed to the staircase area and burst into fits of tears. Shamelessly, we allowed it to streak our cheeks and cried aloud in unison. We were in a totally terrible disposition and I bet anyone who had seen us in that get up would have assumed that someone passed away. I guess in the next meeting, the Klang church people would have notice that their stairs was spotless due to the fact that we ‘mopped’ it with our tears. An hour passed and we were done crying, ready to meet our parents who had given us some privacy during those grievous moments.

We had spent around 3 hours there and wuu, that place did feel a little like home. Conversations whizzed passed and we were kinda decided on stuff like “Sister, can we come stay here once awhile and come for meetings”. Lol, yeah, we were so #desperados that time but we understand reality, that it isn’t possible, we can’t just abandon Seremban. Dramatic us took pictures like we were never gonna be able to visit Klang church again and hopped on the van. I should say that we’ve been blessed with parents, aunts, uncles & bros (like Jochu anneh & Jute boy) who understood us really well. Off we went to two rows of Indian clothing shops to kinda forget our sadness (ikr, we were so miserable that shopping had to come to the rescue).

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It was fun, walking in those stores, checking all the zillions of sarees. Actually I was more interested in the Sherwani’s (I always think of you, Price Charming). Within an hour, the wholee lane turned so prayerful. I couldnt even see what was infront of me, ‘Udubhathi’ smoke covered my eyesight, like what a union, how come the Indian shops in seremban don’t do this or at least all of them don’t do this at the same time? We played tourist, insta storied hundreds of times (i love exaggerating), held hands and walked coz we didn’t wanna get kidnapped in Klang.

Despite the number of shops we had visited, we weren’t done. The day was still young and after dinner, there was still more to discover and off we went to Kamdar. Thank God for Waze and Ray’s quick brains we found the place. Walk. Walk. W A L K and finally, we had to retire for the day.

 9 hours of being together, crying + laughing + jumping + fooling around – I wouldn’t trade this for anything else. So much love for this people, and what a pity that Be-nice & Sharonin could tag along (We still love you guys).

If you’re from Klang, and you’re still reading this (thank you), the Bible says “love your enemies”. Either way, now, I like your place. Saying that I love Klang would be too over la, also I don’t want Seremban to feel jelly. To my Bridesmaid Band, you can now marry any fella from any state, for the record, Klang also boleh.

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Bridesmaid Band ❤

Ps. Acha is actually how we refer to a super fun & fatherly pastor in church.

Dear…

I know I say this every time I blog but it feels good to be back. Like wohoo, after a few months ranting something here is therapeutic. Also, Blessed Christmas people! xoxo. Last year around this time, I made one of the greatest decisions in life – to blog once again. A year has passed ever since and after months of procrastination, I managed to post around 18 posts, which means a minimum of 1 post per month. Quite disappointing but nevertheless, something better than nothing right?

Over the past one year, I’ve penned down my most happy memories, tucked in the sad ones, introduced you to my family (Mr Prime Minister, Mrs Home Minister, G), Bridesmaid Band, San (San incase you’re reading this, promise, your name is here and there on this blog) and most importantly, Prince Charming.

I’ve mention about Prince Charming a countless number of times here and also on my instagram. It’s now safe to say that I’ve managed to confuse quite a number of people who know me regarding my status, but no worries, stay confused till I get married. (evil laugh) 

Right now, ideally I should be sitting under a Christmas tree unwrapping my presents and probably eating turkey but I really kesian my blog, it should have missed me and my fickle-mindedness. If only my blog was a human and we would have broken up long back due to the lack of attention I gave it. Okay, enough of ranting, now back to business.

According to indian standards, I technically have 5 more Christmas-es to celebrate with my family before I leave to my in-laws house. Also that means learning how to cook tasty food, wrap presents – not merely scrunch present paper here and there, and probably iron the entire jingbang’s baju (I sound so like a slave). Leaving to my in-laws also reminds me that I need to learn how to communicate through my eyes to save situations before Mr Prince Charming comes up with a smart idea like saying, “yeah, kezia can cook mutton perratal/some fancy dish for Christmas eve” coz as of now, I can only make fried egg (you can add the word perratal after that – if you want la).

This brings me to the next point that – I’m good at laughing in inappropriate occasions due to my ability in finding everything amusing, so communicating with Prince Charming (with my eyes some more) while all his family members are looking is gonna be so trying. Therefore, this Christmas, while I’m still single and free to mingle (and blog), I wrote him a letter. Also I’m kind enough to let you read (yes, thank me for letting you to peek into my private life).

Lo and behold, the Basic Instructions Before Marrying Kezia.

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Dear Prince Charming,

In 5 years time… There might come a day, I appear demure rather than demanding in your sight, nodding to everything you say, deep down knowing that you are getting stuck #forlife (I meant getting married) with me.

Today is one of the days I’m feeling rather helpful and here’s my guide to help you survive.

1. Your outfit during our wedding

Over the years, my views on how I should get settled in future have changed. From thinking that an arranged marriage would work, then being ultra smart and saying no no no, without love how can and now back to “I’ll marry whomever Mr Prime Minister & Home Minister accepts”.

However through all this, something that has remained (as of 5 minutes back), is your outfit on our big day. To church you’d probably stuff yourself in some black/blue/brown suit, I shall give you the freedom to choose – no hal. But for the reception, I forbid that you walk down the red carpet in that same suit (#icannottakeit). As much as I refer you as Prince Charming, I request (more like demand), that you wear a proper Prince Charming-like baju, the one with stuff hanging from your shoulder and all. Here goes a picture for your reference: (you can thank me after we get married)

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Ok la, the red pants is probably, too much. At least the top baju has to look like that. Love, Kezia.

Also, don’t worry on I’ll be wearing. Demanding me will look dazzling on that day, so please ensure that that the sibuk aunties who want to pick my outfit stay out of my way. (Thank you in advance)

2. Let me learn 

So here’s the thing, I’ve either looked at numbers or words all my life as an auditor, not sati paaneh, pinggan mangkuk in the kitchen. In addition, if mummy and daddy wanted me to cook well, they would have sent me to Le Cordon Bleu not SunwayTES to pursue ACCA. Therefore, for the first few months please be prepared to eat an array of dishes which range from maggi mee, white rice, milo, half boiled egg, pasta and salad (just cut and throw some vege and toss them with mayonnaise). As time passes, based on your patience I will definitely try, learn and transform myself into Gordon Ramsay. Here’s a reminder, to stay away from kutuk-ing my dishes during my learning process, or I dare you, I’ll make you fast.

To expedite my transformation process from an Auditor to Michelin Star chef, it would be great if you leave that (damn) handphone of yours and help me in the kitchen. Even if you don’t help, it isn’t a problem, at least stand there, and talk; ‘coz I’m not your chef to cook and serve but rather your wife.

Also on our first Christmas together, I pray that you don’t open your mouth and accidentally blurt that I don’t know how to cook well. We’ll  just go with the flow and eat whatever both our families have cooked. Remember, after all we’re just newly weds, nobody will be so mean to make us (I mean me) cook.

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Yass, no cooking! 5 more years till I get ripped of this bliss.

3. Which/Whose house to stay in + Whom to stay with?

Here comes the heated argument.

Anyways, the Bible has the solution > Mark 10 : 7. We might argue about this someday, but before that, read the verse and come okay. (For those of you reading this post but don’t have a Bible, please Google it – lol)

4. Church

I’ve loved God & church all my life – even before getting to know you. It would pierce my heart (please understand, I’m poetic) to know that you don’t have a close relationship with God. Seriously, I’m not going to be crying all my life and praying that you come to church, be good, etc etc (for the record, I’m marrying a human, not an onion).  Therefore, please, for God sake, come for the church services, read the Bible, and most of all lead a life pleasing to God.

Long story short, you don’t like church? – No problem, but I would never want to spend my entire life with you.

5. Kezia Muthu vs Kezia your name

Here are a few questions I’d love to ask before considering if I should change my last name.

a) Did you give birth to me?                                                                                                                   b) Were you in the labour room when Mrs. Home Minister gave birth?                                c) Did you take care of amma during & after her pregnancy?                                                    and most importantly…                                                                                                                           d) After our marriage, would we call ourselves Mr. & Mrs. your name or Mr. & Mrs. Kezia?

Obviously, you answered “No” for questions (a),(b),(c) and “Mr & Mrs your name” for (d)

As much as it would sound weird and absurd to call ourselves, Mr & Mrs Kezia, it would sound the same for me, to not call myself Kezia Muthu after getting married. After all the years of my parents sacrificing bringing me up, I’ll never bring myself to change my name. I’ll always be known as Kezia Muthu or Mrs. your name. After all, even in the Bible, married women were addressed by their own names like Sarah – not Mrs. Abraham and Rebekah – not Mrs. Isaac. (So, kira I’m a way better than all of them, I will address myself as Mrs. your name – if needed 😛 )

On another note, if we have a daughter, how would you feel if she changes her last name after 25 years?

Sometimes, this matter might seem insignificant to many, significant to a few, I’m one of the few.

Love,

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Your Demure yet Demanding Cinderella

#pleaseprayformyhusband #ithethanarambaam

 

Demure to Devilish

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image taken from Google Images

12 days in a year,   12 unlucky people get to see me lose my temper, go from demure to devilish in 1 minute. Wait, 1 minute is too long, 30 seconds would be a realistic estimate. Occasionally more than twelve of them get to see me in that state. These ‘people’ are usually dadzie, mumzie, G, Bridesmaid Band or my bunch of college friends. On the other 350++ days, I’m kind, nice and justifiably tolerant (please refer to the picture below).

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Me, every other day. 

Well on the tolerant scale, I perform a wayyy better than G. For example, if a lil baby pees on me (on either of the 350++ days not the 12 days!) I’d graciously say its okay, go home and wash my clothes. Trust me, this has happened, on my school high school uniform somemore. But if it happens to G, oh. my. Lord, she will call the entire household, display her ‘eeeww its pee’ face and demand to go home immediately. But if the peeing takes place on me, on one of the 12 days, idk how I’ll react. So yeah, you gotta wait till someone in church gives birth till I can experiment this out.
But there are times where G performs really well in the tolerating department much more than I do. On those days, I kinda think Jesus is coming soon.

Forget about the peeing babies & G. Let’s talk about this pain.

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image taken from Google Images

It’s excruciating and you’ve got no one to ask why me (except the gender and gene department a.k.a your parents, lol). Generally, I’m like #feminist #girlboss #GirlsCanDoAnything and on these 12 days I’m like #whywasntiaboy.

1. Accept the pain? 
They say that pain helps you to evolve and grow, you should accept pain etc etc.

Now the question is does period pain even help you grow?

Then whyy the heck am I stuck at 152 cm since 17. (thou shall not insult. I know I’m so short, but I can walk with 4-5 inch heels, lu boleh ?) Maybe period pain has helped all the girls around me grow and (I guess) I’m just from the midget family. But then… incase you’ve met them – dadzie, mumzie and G are of normal height, I’m the adorable sized one. Anyways, midget pun jadilah ‘coz it allows me to get away with anything under the sun.

2. No one to blame
Usually, when someone causes you pain, you either just pray for them like what Jesus says, or you can be like me and think/write sarcastic things about them. Another option is to walk up and just slap/punch them in the face. However, with Ms. Period Pain, the tables have turned – I can’t be slapping myself all day long or writing sarcastic lines about blood. Pathetically, there are times where I scrunch my face, limp and saying “Oh Lord save me please” – this has been my longest prayer today. Amen.

3. Just like fingerprints. 
No two girl’s (period) pain story reality is the same. Some of them are fortunate enough to have a smooth week, some survive minor discomfort, some fall into the ‘painful like Kezia’s’ category and then there are women who have worseeee cramps that I do, they faint, cry, somersault, idk what else and all.

So dear people out there, incase you’ve got girlfriends out there, for heavens sake don’t got around saying, how come so and so doesn’t whine about period like you do?

4. To have or not to have. 
There were times I lacked intellect and actually thought to myself how nice life as a girl would have been without having to grow up, attain age, eat raw eggs, drink oil (trust me, I did, after throwing tantrums and saying that the oil is U-turning at my throat), and then be ‘blessed’ with this pain every. single. month.

Incase you didn’t eat raw eggs and drink gingerly oil, please give me your number so that Mrs. Home Minister can contact you / your mum and give you a free ceramah titled:

Big Girl Must Haves : Eggish Eggs & Oogly Oil 

( I created the title. Creative right? )

But then again, this whole egg, oil, pain and pain again process, completes being a women. It’s like you can go around saying.

Menstruation – All rights reserved. Only for women.

And guess what, this is one thing men won’t fight for, for all the obvious reasons – they can’t endure the pain and everything that comes with it. Incase you dont know what else comes with it, please ah dont be so bodoh, go back and study Form 3 science or Form 5 Biology.

So men, you can carry all those barbells / dumbbells / dumb-whatever in gyms and not be able to compare that pain to this one. Sometimes it takes tender souls to tackle treacherous pain. 

But kesian the fellas also la okay. Not all are morons, mangkuks and pinggans. Some of them are really nice, like my friends. They bully you throughout the month but then when it’s time, they really take good care of you. Fill your water bottle zillion times, insult you lesser, dont pull you hair / knock your head in class, buy you food, listen to your whines and ask you if your okay 10 times. Incase you need to lepaskan geram, I treat them like a punchbag / adivangi , coz they are bigger in size than I am. How I miss Dave, Narr and Muths, I bet they dont miss me. (Coconuts)

So, there are some days, like today, where I rant non-stop regarding my pains. However, when I think of those girls who’ve been waiting for months for this to happen, I’m definitely blessed. I know of some friends who’ve struggled with menstruation, causing them further complications, and compared to that, oh Lord, I rather go through this blessing in disguise. And today I pray that all those girls get their period faster and have the same pain because #GirlsCanDoAnythingincludingHandlePeriodPain

“Sakit itu sementara, jadi Wanita itu selamanya” (btw, I modified this line by Cheryl Fernando in her movie, Adiwiraku)

Hallelujah! Sings ROARRR by Katy Perry. Period Pain who?

On another note, I got the #GirlsCanDoAnything from AirAsia, probably they should consider my new hashtag #GirlsCanDoAnythingincludingHandlePeriodPain for their next campaign.

Dear Tan Sri Tony Fernandes / Ms Aireen Omar, incase you read the above my name is Ruth Kezia Hope Muthu and you can email me at keziamuthu@gmail.com for all business inquiries. Thank you ❤

Sending Lots of Love whilst in pain, – Kezia.

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And here’s my situation – right now. 

Sweet Sarcasm

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According to research (done by Prof. RKH Muthu – obviously) travelling via public transport i.e. KTM, LRT, BRT, bus, batmobile etc increases creativity and sarcasm by leaps and bounds. Below are some excerpts from the thoughts that run in my mind! 6 hours of journey bro, what else do you expect. A big thank you to modern day applications such as ‘Evernote’ – I’ve never stopped noting down my excessively sarcastic & sweet thoughts.

I’m supposed to be studying for my P3 mock exams, but I’m in need of a break from Mr Porter, Mr Harmon, Ms Swimlane (don’t worry it has nothing to do with swimming) and a bunch of other people. So yeah – it’s time to de-stress (something which I’ve been doing since morning)

Previously, I’ve posted some of these via insta stories and some of my fans (I mean friends) did have a good laugh! Have fun reading, incase you didn’t laugh, don’t tell anyone else that you didn’t.

Let’s start off with something really…. ummm. spicy.

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an Evernote screenshot

Dear ACCA, despite our love-hate relationship, I’ll always thank you for what you’ve taught me. I am also considering if I should become a detective next. Please advise.


Next Up: When in doubt, wear slippers.

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With or without high heels, a lady should know how to protect herself. You can thank me for this free advice, later.

Ps. serrupe addi = getting whacked with a slipper/sandals


Introducing: my travel mate – Mr LRT

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I was so near to singing Let It Go in the train, but considerate me didn’t wanna offend the other passengers with my oh-so-Siti-Nurhaliza-like voice, so I decided to shut up sit.


Last but not least: A note to Mr Prince Charming’s parents. 

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In short, I’m short – yet filled with sweet, spice, sarcasm and everything nice.

Till the next time!

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