Crazy Bitchy Boss

What do you do when you have to come into the office daily because you need the dough, yet you despise the crazy bitchy boss? How do you overcome bosses whose entire being is to make life miserable for the workers? Where do you cut short the bullying, discrimination, injustice put upon you by such a person?

To some people it may not be easy, especially now when jobs are hard to come by, where even a university graduate can be working as a teller clerk, where apple polishing is more important than delivering the outcome in a system. Many would live through the nightmares; for fear that they have nowhere else to go for a pay cheque.

Crazy bitchy bosses can be real control freaks who constantly picks on certain employee. Finding faults in every corner of your working area, so much so that you become so intimidated, you can’t even look up when they enter the office, or stop instantly for fear that your shadow could cast a bad day, you literally turn into a coiling millipede. So are you game still to carry on working just for the sake of a pay cheque at the end of the month?

They make you feel so weary, so frustrated and so unhappy. You are demotivated to the point of no return, thus making your interaction not only with the boss but everyone else in the office cold. You cannot trust anyone in the office for fear that they might snitch and tell on you, you become suspicious all the time, so why don’t you just pack and leave, and forget the horrible chapter of your life with that crazy bitchy boss.

I was not one of the employees that were lucky enough not to encounter such a bad boss. It was not easy for me, as I have to have a job all the time for the sake of my kids; it was not about me anymore. However, nothing, nothing can make me stay and be thick in a miserable situation. The shortest period that I have worked for someone that bad was for 2 weeks or may be 1 week.
Yeah, I remember it was at the MTB, I was working in the Chairman’s office. Every one told me that he was a moody person, especially in the morning coming in from his home, or when he received calls from his wife and kids. I tried not to listen to office gossip or politics, taking my strike in the office, inhaling the beautiful leather chair that was given to me as his special assistant, breathing in the beauty of the big well decorated office, I am so proud of my achievement.

However, this was not to be for a long time. First day was fine, second day I heard him shout abusive words to one of the co workers, third he just walked past everyone ignoring the morning salutation including me (WTF), fourth was good, and on the firth day I was requested to stay late as there will be a BOD meeting. It was a last minute request, but I wanted to be a good employee, so I did as requested. Before the start of the meeting, he came out of his office to give me some instructions; it was a very civil instruction.

Then the phone call from his wife came, it was a quick conversation between them, I heard the bang of the phone, then the drawers and my stomach became so twisted in fear of his black mood. The people attending the meeting started to arrive one by one, suddenly out of nowhere he came to me, and shouted in front of everyone that I should know when to start the meeting, instead of waiting for everyone to arrive, and looking pretty at my desk.

Only the Lord knows my feelings at that point of time, I looked at him but no words could come out of my mouth. I can feel the tears in my eyes, yet he did not stop. Taking control, I composed myself, got into the meeting room and called for the meeting to start, even though there were not enough quorums yet. After almost ten minutes into the meeting, I could not control my tears any more; I excused myself and left the meeting room.

Once at my own table, I took my personal file, gathered all my stuff, and quickly scribbled a note to the crazy bitchy boss. My note read: ‘If you think you can take me for a ride, God damn you are WRONG!!!’. My heart was thumping so hard that I could almost feel it bursting as I slowly inserted the paper underneath the meeting room door, and scam.

I run as fast as I could, not waiting for the elevator, with my high heels I ran down all the stairs, making it to the parking lot in record time, and driving off without any hesitation, not looking back but with a triumphant achievement.

The moral of the entry, leave if you have to, do not wait to be treated like a piece of dust. There are better things out there; if you don’t try you will never know. If you live in fear of not knowing what is in store for you, then it is just like not living.

Do not let the crazy bitchy boss get on you!!!!!!!!!!!!!

True Story

Very Shocking..... .

This is a real story of a young college girl who passed away last month in Pasir Ris.

Her name was Priya. She was hit by a truck.

She was working in a call center. She had a boy friend named Shankar.

Both of them were true lovers. They always talked on the phone.

You would never find her without her hand phone. In fact she also changed her cell connection from Starhub to Singtel, so that both of them can be on the same network, and save on the cost. She used to spend half of the day talking with shankar. Priya's family knew about their relationship. Shankar was very close to Priya's family as well. (Just imagine their love).

Before she passed away she always told her friends 'If I pass away please burn me with my hand phone' she also said the same thing to her parents.

After her death, people could not carry her body. A lot of them tried to do so, but still cannot. Everybody had tried to carry the body, the results were the same.
Eventually, they called a person known to one of their neighbors, who can speak with the soul of dead person and who was a friend of her father.

He took a stick and started speaking to himself slowly.

After a few minutes, he said 'this girl misses something here.' Then her friends told that person about her intentions to burn her with her hand phone.

He then opened the casket and places her hand phone and the SIM card inside the casket. After that they tried to carry the body. It was then moved easily and they carried her into the hearse.

All of us were shocked. Priya's parents did not inform Shankar that Priya had passed away.

After 2 weeks Shankar called Priya's mom.....

Shankar :.....'Aunty, I'm coming home today. Cook something nice for me’.
Don't tell Priya that I'm coming home today, I want to surprise her.'

Her mother replied..... 'You come home first; I want to tell you something very important.'

After he came, they told him the truth about Priya.

Shankar thinks that they were playing a fool. He was laughing and said 'don't try to fool me - tell Priya to come out, I have a gift for her. Please stop this nonsense'.

Then they showed the original death certificate of Priya to him.

They gave him proof to make him believe. (Shankar started to sweat) He said... 'It’s not true. We spoke yesterday. She still calls me.

Shankar was shaking.

Suddenly, Shankar's phone rang….. 'See this is from Priya, see this.....' he showed the phone to Priya's family. All of them told him to answer. He talked using the loudspeaker mode.

All of them heard his conversation.

Loud and clear, no cross lines, no humming.

It is the actual voice of Priya and there is no way others could use her SIM card since it is nailed inside the casket together with her.

They were so shocked and asked for the same person’s (who can speak with the soul of dead person) help again. He brought his master to solve this matter now.

He and his master worked for 5 hours.

Then they discovered one thing which really shocked them....

Singtel has the best coverage

'Where ever you go, our network follows!!!'

Don't shout at me . . . I am also looking for the idiot who sent me this mail....

HA HA HA HA HA.....


(This message was forwarded to me by a good friend from Singapore, life is short. I thought it was a good one by whoever for Singtel, and I love to share with readers of my blog, who always have a good sense of humor.)

Fun In The Sun

Who Are You?

Today my entry is about this particular person who just seems that she cannot have enough of me, it does make me wonder why, yeah really why? It is not like I care about you or I like you or I am happy that you are existing on this planet, no, not at all.

I remember many years back you were already there, concocting malicious stories of my life, proudly spreading the stories to all your comrades, who are all shrouded with hijab, but shamelessly gossiping like a bursting hose. Oh for the sake of peace, please don’t hide yourself behind your IP address. It is so super easy for me to trace.

Is your skin thicker then the swine's that you don’t understand what being normal is all about? Amazing, from just being a ticketing sales girl, to a home wrecker, to a better reporter than the CNN crews, to a conspirator and Lord knows what else. Who are you? Really, who the fucking hell are you?

Strange, do you even think for a minute if the people around you are not making use of you, as you are making use of them? Didn’t you think for a minute that if you were not being given on a silver tray for a trading game and win, that none of these people will even want to have anything to do with you? Wake up woman, or may be BITCH is a better name for you. Leave me alone and, oh yeah while you are there please also have the courtesy to leave my precious kids alone.

I must give you my thumbs up though for raising your daughters very nicely, you groom them so well, that from their shadow, the world will know which womb they came from. They are exactly a duplicate of you, the way they behave, the way they talk, the way they think that they are superior, the way they dress, and the way they manipulate themselves in the circles of people, they are exactly like you.

Oh yeah, if you have an inch of a grey matter that could be slightly higher than a ticketing sales girl, you see on my blog, you can add yourself as my follower, don’t worry all my followers are confidential, so I will keep you confidential too. That way may be I don’t have to have a special entry just to be spiteful to you…………….. I loath you.

Get off my life…………. Jump off the train already, or go kill yourself, or wait a minute …….. go be a good wife, a real good wife, not the one who keeps on feeding her husband with all the dirty mambo jambo stuff.

Good luck!!!!!!!!!

The Joy Of Bliss

It was a bright sunshine day yesterday, we decided to take the girls to walk under the tall trees, and go where the wind goes, and where the pigeons flew, and when our noses turn red against the sharp windy wind.

It was a moment of rejuvenating our sleeping soul, the laughter of the girls, the pushing and punching play was all that we needed to know that today is worthy of leaving the comfort of our tiny home.

They are the joy of bliss.

Her Worthy Efforts

Took her for frame hunting last Wednesday, the effort that she put into her drawings were worthy of a grand place on our living hall wall. The only place that we can find a decent frame for the sizes that she needed was in IKEA.

Luckily the weather was fair, not too cold and not too windy. Since there was only the two of us today, we decided not to stray anywhere so that we will be in time for Chef Diva’s return.

Whatever makes her happy, I am game for it.

Please Let Me Adopt

My little angel will be 15 years of age come end of this year; she is literally growing into a young adult, so fast so soon. I miss her early years in life, I miss dolling her up, I miss carrying her in the baby basket, or being in the shower together, I miss all those special moments.

For almost 6 years now, I have been begging hubby to adopt a child. I know I still have some good years left in me to at least caring for another child. I have been trying to reason out with him, threatening him, ignoring him and many other things that I have tried, but he is still adamant that we do not need another child. But I want!!!!!!!!!!!

I dream of adopting one of the African babies, I have no reason whatsoever for my choice of a child, but I love their curly hair, their little button nose, their full lips, their chubby cheeks, and most of all their innocent eyes. I can imagine how proud I will be showing the baby around, hearing the baby calling me ‘mama’, waiting for him at play school, and caring for him in good and bad times; it will be sheer bliss for me.

My children are on hubby's side, they indeed encouraged him not to let me adopt a child. Each time I brought up the subject, I will be the minority voice, each time I brought up the subject I will end up walking away from the table. What can I do to make them feel the way I do, what can I do to let them know that the baby will not be a burden to any of us?

Till then I am scheming a strategy……………..

I Got What You Want

I got what you want, do you have what I want? hhee hheeee (evil laugh)

Mama, I'm Coming Home

Times have changed and times are strange
Here I come, but I ain't the same
Mama, I'm coming home
Times gone by seem to be
You could have been a better friend to me
Mama, I'm coming home

You took me in and you drove me out
Yeah, you had me hypnotized
Lost and found and turned around
By the fire in your eyes

You made me cry, you told me lies
But I can't stand to say goodbye
Mama, I'm coming home
I could be right, I could be wrong
It hurts so bad, it's been so long
Mama, I'm coming home

Selfish love yeah we're both alone
The ride before the fall
But I'm gonna take this heart of stone
I just got to have it all
I've seen your face a hundred times
Everyday we've been apart
I don't care about the sunshine, yeah
'Cause Mama, Mama, I'm coming home

You took me in and you drove me out
Yeah, you had me hypnotized
Lost and found and turned around
By the fire in your eyes
I've seen your face a thousand times
Everyday we've been apart
I don't care about the sunshine, yeah
'Cause Mama, Mama, I'm coming home

Menopause :P

Since reaching the threshold of pentagenarian or spring chicken age or whatever anyone wants to call it, I am beginning to read a lot on the signs and symptoms of menopause. Sometimes exchanging notes with friends who have been there or asking my doctor about it.

Friends often tell me funny stories of their experiences, or just casually telling me that ‘you will know when you reach there’, but I am already here and I need to know. How does it feel to be attacked by the hot flashes or the night sweats, how does it feel to be fatigue and depressed all the time? They also told me that each of us will experience different symptoms, and it is not necessary also all the symptoms that we read online.

I read one woman get so irritable once her periods stop, so much so that she decided to move out of the family home and live alone. It sounded scary to be irritable to that level isn’t it? But I have always been an irritable person, ever since I was 9. I can get irritated about everything and nothing, I get irritated when people talk too much, I get irritated when the rice is too soft, I get irritated when people are too slow, indeed I just get irritated.

Then again one of the symptoms indicated online is memory loss; wow …… this is serious business. I don’t want to wake up one morning thinking that my husband is an alien from Mars, or my little angel Miley Cyrus, or Chef Diva the wicked Gordon Ramsay.

Ok, ok another scary reality is the loss of libido………… arr, ‘honey did I not tell you that I wanted to live a celibate life? This is because it is easier for me to perform all my prayers’, but look it is the menopause symptom !!!!!! for real? (sad).

And for quite sometimes I keep telling hubby and my doctor that I was feeling so bloated, jokingly telling hubby too that I might finally be pregnant, and stirring the doctor to send me for a regime of laboratory tests, just to be given all results negative of anything at all.

Ermm……………… Alia, am I there yet?

Only Losers Go Down

I Am Good............ he he he

Standing with my back against the heater in my bed room one night, hubby looked at me and told me that I have aged wonderfully, that I look good for my age and that he is happy with me.

Aww, he made me blush, only that I am too tan to blush, ………. so sweet. But who else will say such things to me if not hubby; I am his partner till death do us apart, InsyaAllah.

Thank you love for sharing your life with me, thank you for all the things that may or may not have any significant meaning to anyone but me. I know I am one tough cookie to live your life with, but this is what I am, and I wish to be the better person for you always.

Hey, it is not bad to be over 50 after all, but then again I am always proud of my age.

Caught You Caring

Two weeks before her February holidays, the home room teacher came to class and asked the students if they remember what was being promoted by the school at the end of January 2010. The students knew that it was ‘the no name calling week’, but what the students were not aware of was that, it was also ‘the caught you caring campaign’ week too.

This is where the teachers will observe the students’ interaction with each other, and pick among them the one that they consider most caring for that particular week. The home room teacher was diplomatic enough to inform the class that, if the students were not chosen, that does not mean that they are not caring people.

At her own seat, quietly in her own thought my little angel was thinking that it would be so funny if she was among one of those chosen. In her class it was announced that three students were noted to be recognized as those caught caring persons.

First name was called, then the second name and finally the third name, yes the third name was her name. However, she was so deep in her thought that she did not realize it was her name that the teacher was calling out for, not until her friends started to call her name too.

That’s my little angel, the ever so caring and kind hearted. She was laughing so much when revealing the whole scenario to me, as she still thinks that it was funny that she was chosen, yet she was happy too.

On the “caught you caring campaign” my little angel was caught caring for: Always willing to demonstrate and help others with their drawings.

Keep up the good behavior darling; I am always proud of you.

Happy Valentine

It is that time of the year again, where young lovers go gu gu ga ga over each other, spending ridiculous amounts of money for a stalk of rose or flower of their choice, while old lovers feel contented that they still have each other to smile at.

This day used to be much celebrated by yours truly, first it was the can’t get you anything enough ever moment, then please I have too much already moment, then it is alright if I don’t get to see you moment, to finally dahh it is over moment, and now this day has no significant meaning at all.

Once I had my children this day become a pledge of my love for them. I started buying small presents for them, wrapping them up with happiness in my heart, given with joy to them, in anticipation of the cheeky appreciation look on their beautiful faces. This day indeed was meant for my children and nothing more.

On this day now, as I look at all the red balloons, the cute hearts with extended arms, the florist extended hours of operation, I could only recall with a twitch in my stomach what this day meant to me many years back, and I laugh.

As hubby and me enjoy our quality time with my two angels today, he dragged me into the ever so famous Swarovski boutique, whispering time and again in my ear to choose a gift for this day. I love looking at their special design in collaboration of this celebration, but ermm………….. I would rather we keep the money (ahh well this is what I have become now on this day).

Anyways, to all of you who still believe that love should only be pledged on this day, here’s one for you……………. HAPPY VALENTINE DAY and yeah enjoy!!!!

Mamak Fried Chicken

Someday alone in my tiny home, I thought I can make a great cook. It does not take much for me to learn anything new but also to make it better. In fact on a charity basis together with some of the NGOs I had penned down my special recipes for a charity cooking book, which went on sale in 2008 back home.

With the weather so eccentric from one day to the other, I love cooking spicy food to keep us warm, which can be a bit too much for my poor hubby at times. The chili that my girlfriend got for me from Singapore was really really so so spicy, and there is nothing much I can do about that, and I am sure not going to discard of the chili as they never come easy here.

Anyways, last Tuesday, I decided to try and make Mamak Fried Chicken. You know the kind of fried chicken that you can only get in a Mamak stalls or restaurants. I got some already mixed spice from Singapore but the smell of the spices can be unbearable at times. So I decided to make my own mixture of spices for this cooking.

Here is my Mamak Fried Chicken recipe:

Ingredients:
12 pieces chicken wings, 1 small packet of Alagappa’s chicken curry powder, 2 table spoon of chili powder, 1 tablespoon turmeric powder, salt to taste, coarsely cracked coriander seed, 3 tablespoons of rice flour, some fresh curry leaves, and cooking oil for deep frying.

Method:
Clean and wash the chicken wings, pat dry with paper towel. Mix the curry powder, chili, turmeric powder, coriander seed, salt and water to a thick paste. Add the chicken wings to the mixture and marinate for at least two hours.

Before frying add the rice flour to the marinated chicken wings, and if necessary add some water, but not too dilute. The mixture of the rice flour to the marinated chicken wings should be thick like a frying batter.

Heat oil in a deep wok; add the curry leaves then fry the chicken wings in batches. The chicken wings should come out nice and crispy.

Good trying!!!!!

Super Brat But Cute Ain't He?

This is among one of my favorite baby tantrum videos. Though he looks like a super brat but he knows how to get the attention that he wants. What would you do if one of yours is like this? I cannot help watching this video over and over again.

My Little Angel As Jack Sparrow

Last week was quite a week for my little angel; it was a mixture of excitement, sadness and joy so to speak. Everything has to do with friends, school and teachers. My concern is that I am always there for her to lean on.

She got invited for a sleep over dress up birthday party on Friday; this means that I will only see her on Friday morning and again after her return on Saturday (then she will be off again for another birthday do at a bowling center). The theme for the costume was anything Johnny Depp, as the birthday girl was a dire hard fan of Johnny Depp.

I was to go and get the costume for my little angel, and I have only one day to do that, plus I also have to get a gift for the birthday girl. Together with Chef Diva (who can be very critical about anything and everything), we went from one costume store to the other. The price variety was fantastic, all you have to do is to walk a lot and shop smart.

My little angel specifically wanted a red bandana but all the costume shops had the red bandana attached to a wig, so left with no choice I opt for a red skull cap, by the way it was also the last one on the shelf. The rest of the costume I will figure out later.

Next stop was the birthday gift; I was given the order that the gift should not be anything girlie, no flowers, no hair band, no pink color, no no no for all girls things. After walking and walking and walking, I found a branded bracelet that was blue and silver in color, it looks elegant and yeah not girlie, and the best thing was that it was on 70 % sale, and it was going to cost me less than 5 Euros (talk about bargain hunting). Just the right gift, so without any hesitation I bought it, and guess what? The birthday girl loves it. (wink wink).

I am sharing here my very own Jack Sparrow………….. she's lovely isn’t she?

Your Box Makes Me Smile

The door bell rang in vengeance early this morning as I was preparing the lunch pack for my little angel. It super irritates me whoever does that, it gives me the impression that the person ringing the bell has zero grey matter in his brain.

Anyways, I walked out of the kitchen, opened the door and was greeted by two postal people who speak not a word of English. I saw the box; yeah I know why they were here, so after signing on their palm top, they left.

Back in the kitchen, I looked at the date, it was sent on December 6, 2009, two months after it finally finds my address, Alhamdulillah.

Opening the box, I can’t help but smile seeing the content of what my thoughtful medic princess had sent. Most of the things are still intact except for the ‘rempeyek’, but well, I will still eat them. I am not so sure about the Tesco products though, as I have long long time ago lost my trust in Tesco back there.

Thank you Alia, you made me smile early this morning.