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. 
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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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(S)ee yo(U) (A)gain

This is probably the last time I’d be blogging from my apartment. I badly wanted to type one line at least so, (S)ee yo(u) (A)gain, SUA. Thank you for helping me find a bunch of monkeys that I’ll always remember <3.

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My view, every day, all day.

Pray for my weak heart. Finally sinking in that I left SUA almost a week back. Before leaving, I managed to type those few lines so that I’ll have the feel of ‘blogging for the last time from my 2nd home’. So senti(mental) – see what I did there?

I stayed here for 2 years and 2 months. All alone. Without Mr. Prime Minister, Mrs. Home Minister & G. So proud of myself that I’ll consider this an accomplishment and proudly say that this was my longest relationship. Now what you don’t know is… *jeng jeng jeng*

I used to go back every, single, damn weekend – W.I.T.H.O.U.T   F.A.I.L

Honestly, I’d die without seeing mumzie & dadzie every week but I can assure you that I’ll survive a millennium without seeing G. That’s ‘coz we fight for the slightest things. From past experiences, we used to have 3-4 wars per day. The wars were so intense that sometimes weapons such as hangers and rotans (which were initially bought by Mrs. Home Minister to discipline us) were used.

 

These wars were usually ended by Mr. Prime Minister and his famous speech… Since all you would never have the chance to be present at our peacemaking ceremonies, here goes the transcript:

Rasathi, you both shouldn’t be fighting like this all ma, someday when amma and appa are gone you both will only have each other. You both must learn how to follow peace with one another…. etc etc etc.

In case you are wondering, as of today, that speech has been recited over 1 million times and we still religiously fight over the weekends and even minutes before I leave for the train station. Sometimes I really can’t wait for her to get married and leave but then I’ll life would be so boring ‘coz I’ll be left to argue with the mango tree and rose plants in my house 😦

Despite knowing that we’ll now fight for 24/7 plus mumzie and dadzie might need to get Mahatma Gandhi to settle these wars, I still wonder how I decided to move out from SUA?!

I guess, sometimes you got to expect the unexpected and that’s one thing 2017 has taught me about. All good and bad things must come to an end. For me, moving out was that end. I love being back and knowing the fact that I’ll see the faces that I love every day. (I know I’m such a sweet daughter, too bad that I’m not your child).

I can no longer call SUA my second home, but I’ll always remember the memories I had while staying there *takes a tissue roll and wipes the flowing tears*.

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This good ol’ place, I literally hangout 20/7 here. And I cleaned the table to take this picture.
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That’s one memorable spot in the entire house. It has witnessed me hysterically laughing, crying, smiling.
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24 hours before I left, I bombarded insta stories with #thesadfeels.

 

On another note: Dear SU Apartment, you can now pay me for all this free publicity. I bet you have my bank details already.

Love,

The Rebel which left your premises.

 

Bridesmaid Band

Woah, it feels great to be back again doing the things you love. It took me 5 months to finally write again, so you better pray hard that I don’t go missing for the next 6 months. Lemme just say that life has been really nice to me according to Romans 8:28 (you don’t need to go to Rome to find out what’s written, just Google it or go read the Bible). I’ve been getting so much love this past month and sometimes it makes me wonder how God can work in different ways (I sound so holy, Amen).

Last week’s Seremban Convention held in church was the highlight!

I practically spent 15 hours a day in church, from Monday to Sunday looking at the faces I love. It was soooo much fun, walking around with Girl Gang, cleaning the toilets (oh yeah, 6 times a day to be precise), helping the aunties and uncles in the kitchen, doing each others hair (I mean G did our hair, coz the rest of us have tangan kayu), rushing to get the slides for the projector done and running errands for everyone because we’re young, mobile and agile plus we’re just helpful la. In the midst of all this, we even had time to plan our outfits on watsapp, how to counter attack anyone who asks us questions (Ray and I were in charge of the counter attacking department).

So the question now is. Who. are. these. bunch. of. people. I absolutely love spending time with. (takes a tissue and wipes my tears – oh how I miss them right now)

Tadaa… Lo and behold, one of the main reasons (besides God) I go to church.

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Ray, Bern, Girlboss, San, Shoran, G

They’re the people whom I can count on to investigate a fella I like. And woah, they do a pretty decent job investigating. Someday when I graduate I might as well start a Private Investigation firm. With the skill set they have, they can take stalking to a verreh level.

They can wash toilets well, more like they enjoy washing the church toilets. Mother in laws, take note. Maids are not needed, my friends do a way better job. Dear aunties, by now you should know who to ponne pakkeran (just saying, you can thank me later).

Jokes aside, their simplicity amazes me. We’ve all grown together for the past few years.

They saw me leave for college, surprised me on birthdays, slept over at each others house, shared pyjamas, annoyed the hell out of each other, fought like cats and dogs, troubled our parents (every single time we created spontaneous plans), stalked people like pros and laughed like maniacs every single time we met, wiped each others tears. In short, I can be sure to walk in their house eat their food, wear their clothes, take their stuff and their parents wouldn’t say a single thing.

I thank God for these coconuts and am absolutely gonna miss them when they go to college, start working, after we get married. I’ve already started praying that someday all of us find fellas in the church and get married. (P.s. incase you’re from CPM and you’re reading this, consider marrying either of my friends. Also take note that I’ll take extra effort to kill you incase you hurt them. Thank you in advance. ) I now have to rack my head on the type of gown they’re going to wear in 6 years time. #Godblessthetailor

 

verreh = different ; ponne pakkeran = seek for a bride

 

Beyond I Love You

Guess what, people around me seem to love hearing/reading/gossiping (I’m not so famous though) about my non-existent (maybe) relationship. rolls on the floor laughing (rotfl). This is because, whenever I post stuff relationship themed it definitely gets a way moreeeeee hits than the other posts! Like that’s so unfair, how would my other normal posts feel (if they were humans)?

FYI, I utter the phrase ‘I Love You’ almost thousands of times a week (I’m so lazy to count). Before you start making assumptions, I actually say that almost every night to Mrs. Home Minister (Mr. Prime Minister is too cool for that) which makes it one of the frequently uttered sentences in a week. But here’s a phrase which would go beyond the number of times I’ve said I Love You **drumroll**        **mankathabgm**

Aiyoo, I’m so tired la.

Surprise! See what I did there. You might have thought that an ‘I love you’ is always followed by ‘I miss you’  but as for me:

I    A M    T I R E D.   A L W A Y S.

And guess what?! The whole world (I mean aunties in church) has told me that I look tired. They’ve said it to me like zillion times (I swear  promise – mumzie said cannot swear swear all)! I used to look like a marshmallow – round, tiny and adorable (I assume + people G said so) but here’s how I am right now:

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I don’t look like an extreme mess, but you get the point – I’m tired.

I guess it’s because I’ve got lots of stuff up in my cauliflower (I mean my head) which I’ve got to settle and I’m constantly looking at my phone, my planner, my phone. Well, that’s because I don’t want to miss a thing and cause chaos.

I haven’t caused ‘chaos’ so far but here’s something similar which I did. (and I felt, feel and will continuing feeling bad):

Recently, I didn’t put Lin’s birthday on my calendar, thinking that I’d remember the date properly. All I did was, call her 2 days in advance at 12am (sharp) and yell ‘Happy Birthday’ in my high pitched voice. I. was. so. dumb. How did I forget the date! Obviously, she was chuckling away at my misery. I’ve been seeing and wishing Lin every year for the past 7 years in school and then this year I do something so so so silly. Don’t worry she’s still super duper close friends with me. But I think that’s just because I know lots about her and I can blackmail her incase she ‘unfriends’ me.

I’ve had lots of memories with her back in high school and she’s definitely one person I can always talk to despite being away (and busy) for long! I miss the dumb stuff we did in school. She was my private investigator, poem partner (she writes all the sad poems & stories), annoying deskmate (idk how I could bear with her for 5 years) and my radio karat (she sings with her considerably bad + okay nightingale – like voice [had to change, or she’ll be mad]).

I had to look through a bunch of old photos on my laptop to get this photo of us 5 years ago:

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15 year old Naina, Lindevi and myself.

I hope you rock a saree on my wedding day (front row seats if you do!).

Honestly, I’ve got loads of memories with many of my friends back from school, so much that I can write a book. I should probably start a segment/category called “Messy Monday Memories”. The last I saw my bunch of high school friends was 2 years back (I guess). Idk where they are right now, but incase y’all are reading this – I MISS YOU COCONUTS.

On another note, I’m just hoping that this “tiredness” of mine doesn’t continue. I definitely don’t want to forget any other important dates.

Attn: Mrs. Home Minister, would you please not give me free lectures that I’m always hanging on my phone? See the extent of damage I suffer when I try living without it!

(P.s. despite the title, this post wasn’t about my relationship. hahaha. **evil laugh**)

#JK #samosaforlife #foodrules

Meet Mr Fiancé

It has been quite some time, precisely 1 year+ ever since I got into a relationship, few months ever since I got engaged and I think it’s time you meet Mr. Fiancé. Previously, I’ve mentioned about visiting us at our humble abode here, but I’m assuming many of you are still confused on where we live and on how the heck he looks. So here’s a picture of him (cue: awwww. I’m so sweet). *drumroll*

Tadaa. Lo and behold, my future in red. He’s so sweet, caring, loving, torturing, stressful and so much more that ‘his’ parents decided to name him – ACCA, Think Ahead.

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He has been playing such a biggggg (I cannot emphasise more) role in my life, so much that I’m wondering who, when and how am I supposed to get married (to a real human, of course). Mr. Fiancé has been the main reason I stopped eating lots of samosa’s and spending lesser time with my family, best friend, friends and everyone else under the sun.

Last week, I had a meeting (I mean Mock Exams) with Mr. Fiancé. Gosh, I was in such a mess, skipping all my other work, running helter skelter to find for my sweater and stationeries. I remember during one of our meetings where I was supposed to take notes (a.k.a writing down answers on the exam paper), I was freaking distracted because of the stuff that were running in my mind and I was using liquid paper (read: correction tape) more than I used my pen! But honestly, I extend my deepest sympathies to the person who’s going to mark my F9 paper though (I’m sorry teacher, incase you’re reading this).

Life is tough with him but nevertheless I said, YES – to love and to cherish every complicated IAS, to honour every single IFRS, to be on time for every 8am class even if it means missing breakfast and wearing jogging pants (I don’t jog, I bought that pants for fun and now I use it to class), to respect all the F-level and P-level papers, to worship all the audit firms for 3 years till I become certified Chartered Accountant and then to follow all the preset rules by the aunties’ of my society to get married fast etc etc… (Sorry the person you’re trying to contact is self-willed, please try again later for an illechevai.

That’s how ‘exciting’ my life has been people 😛 But hey, I’m still happy with all the zillions of stuff which have been happening too.

To whomever who has been waiting when the world would I post something true about my relationship(s), I suggest you keep waiting till Jesus comes. Amen. Blessed Easter (I’m so good at changing topics, Hallelujah!).

xoxo till the next time I rant write,

SSpice.

[ps: illechevai – I’m still finding how to explain it in english]

Corporate Social Responsibility

Our aunties (especially if they’re Indian) are unreputable when it comes to corporate social responsibility (CSR). They are so into it that you’ll forget about Microsoft, Google and Walt Disney company – the top 3 companies for CSR (no need to be so sibuk and Google, I got this from Forbes). 

Why do I say so?

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this is self-explanatory

Well, they’re just are super duper caring nowadays [read: busy body (dictionary), menjaga tepi kain orang lain (find this in your peribahasa book)]

Once you’re done with SPM they make sure you get into college and you’ve got to choose based on what the whole world wants except yourself. Don’t accidentally tell them you are interested in becoming an artist, they’ll say inthe paint-addikerethela orru vellaiah? ollunga paadi! (translated as- is painting even a job? Study properly!) Then, after a few years they’ll be interested in knowing when you’ll graduate as if they’re the owners of Jobstreet whereas they’re just CEOs of VaayadiStreet. (vaayadi – talkative)

Two years will pass by and then someday they’ll say their brother’s son’s daughter’s son’s great grandson (just exaggerating, but you get the point – they just try to introduce some stranger) is available, has a big car, good job etc. And you’ll be like, hello, I’m not going to live in his car/at his office so why bother telling me? Come on aunntyyyy, there’s Instagram, Facebook (I can’t think of any other social media because these are currently dominating) and if we are super interested in your uncle’s son’s great grandson we saw at a wedding, we’ll do the stalking and the talking – of course.

You name it, we’ll do – if we’re are super interested. You want the fella’s bestfriend’s sister’s name for your son – we got you covered. Where he works – we’ll go do some field work and inspection to find his office. If he likes someone else – we’ll hire an undercover in his office itself. His favourite food – the restaurant owner nearby house/office will become our bff. A list dumb things he did when he was 14 – his facebook will be our source of evidence. This is how we roll these days. (Anyways, now that I love eating Samosa, I stopped rolling this way long back)

If we needed your advice on what to study, when to get married, whom to get married to, how our wedding should be etc etc, they would have appointed y’all as counselors in our university, but sadly, they didn’t, therefore, P.L.E.A.SE. L.E.A.V.E. U.S. Don’t get us wrong, we love your scrumptious cooking but we’d love you more if you don’t be Auntypedia (senior version of Wikipedia) and try to silently rule our lives with your perceptions. So aunty, don’t bother calling our mums and arrekeraning (lecturing) them on how to manage their girls, okay?

Love,

the 21st Century’s free-spirited-ladies.

(p.s. no offence to all the super-nice aunties all there. This was for fun, but incase the above rings a bell, please stop doing likewise 😛 )