Go To Another Direction, Girl

I love her songs, I love her voice.  The music reminded me to classic Cher, the look also reminded me to Cher pre-‘Believe’ era.   Don’t mind the attitude, because if I were her, I’d probably be worse -sans the drugs-.  Don’t mind the tattoos because while on others they’d look mighty trashy, on her they look okay.  There is only one thing I hate about Amy Winehouse…

WHY OH WHY WOULD SHE WANT TO BE A CONEHEAD?

She might not want to go to rehab and she says ‘No… No… NO!’

I say, it’s okay Ms. Winehouse.  You should go to a beauty salon instead.

A Voluntary Post

Got involved into a conversation which ultimately ended in a very subtle job offer.   The job itself is BEYOND my imagination of what a job should be.  Let’s just say it’s for a ‘non-profit organization’.

That’s not what I am about to question.

The chat went on and on and finally numbers came up and I was close to having a heart attack.  It was rather huge.   No, wait, it was huge.

As I drove home, thoughts came popping inside my head like crazy.  I was suddenly in an urgent need of having a new definition for the concept of ‘volunteering’.  When I was in school, teachers taught me that ‘volunteering’ is something you do without getting paid.  If you get some money, then it’s your luck.  If you don’t, well… it is volunteer work.  I’ve never heard of leading a fabulous lifestyle BY doing volunteer work.  When your life is already fabulous (read:  similar to Angelina Jolie’s or Madonna’s), then it’s understandable for you to go on a real volunteer work, even donate loads of cash to whatever cause wherever it is.  That’s my understanding of ‘volunteering’.

But I was wrong.  Totally wrong, if I may say.

Move To Knockoffs, Grandma

clipped from www.dailymail.co.uk Shopaholic stole �150,000 from bosses and blew it on designer labels A secretary has been jailed for stealing �150,000 from her bosses and blowing it on hundreds of designer handbags, clothes and shoes. Carolyn Langmead, described as “obsessed” with shopping, wept as she was sentenced to three years for writing hundreds of cheques to herself. She spent the cash on filling her wardrobe with leading labels such as Louis Vuitton, Prada and Gucci.

And I suddenly feel very thankful that despite my ongoing passion for designer labels, I never once thought of stealing to get my hands on those yummy fashion items.This old woman is not mentally ill like the news stated.

She just doesn’t know where Mangga Dua is.

Mean-ing?

So I work with a girl.  Let’s call her Miss K.

Miss K is a beautiful person.  And I mean beautiful inside out.  She’s smart, pretty, sexy, witty and fun to be with.  Her only flaw would be… that ‘look’ she throws occasionally to the people she doesn’t particularly like.  I protested a lot about this to her, because I am always afraid that she’d be caught and end up in an impromptu catfight.  The last time I protested about this was last week.  We were sitting in a cafeteria and a girl walked in.  She wore a leopard-printed tank top, a tighter-than-thou skinny jeans with glitters, yes glitters, on the back pockets and a too thick platform shoes.  To add the soreness to my (and apparently Miss K’s) eyes, this girl wore a bright red lipstick.  She wore her dry and unhealthy hair down, and also has the habit of flipping the hair every now and then as if that day was 1983.

Anyway.

“Right.  I wonder where the rest of her dangdut troops are,” those were the exact words that jumped out of my mouth.

On Going Public

Right.

As much as I hated those ‘posers’ who get comfy with their laptops in coffee shops, I am one of them this evening.  Here I am seated very comfortably on a sofa huge enough to accomodate TEN people, watching a group of adults squished on the next sofa.  Haha! 

When I Let My Mind Loose

Here I am standing at a crossroad again.  But instead of having two choices, I have more.

Ah, and now comes the very familiar feeling of wanting to take them all.

This is the time where I want to be an octopus.  Wouldn’t it be nice to have more than one leg (or tentacles, whatever) just so I can walk those different paths at the same time?  Wouldn’t it be nice to have four sets of brains to be utilized at the same time?  Wouldn’t it be nice to have four personalities to fit every path at the same time?

This is what happens when one has four freaking wonderful choices but is only destined to take one at a time.

In the mind of ‘Miund’, one has to be able to get ’em all.  Sadly, reality keeps biting the mind of ‘Miund’ and tells her to get real.

When Is Enough… ENOUGH?

A conversation pushed me to write this post.  Not gonna disclose who what where when why and how, I just want to spill what’s in my head after the chat window closed down.  The lingering question remains:

When is ‘enough’ really enough?

No, really. I’m not being contemplative.  I’m purely asking.

The Story of Moody 2

Moody tilted her head, confused, “I know you are rich from cutting down trees, Mr. Funny. But what do you mean?”

Mr. Funny shook his head. “Oh Moody, you are just the girl I know back then. All naive and clueless. I want you to work for me.”

Moody’s eyes lit up for a second, but she looked at Mr. Funny with a questioning face, “Work for you? What will I do? Don’t you do your work alone?”

Mr. Funny then explained that he had just been hired by a furniture factory to create furnitures. Therefore, he needed Moody to help him design the furnitures. Moody thought for a second and said, “Well that does sound interesting. Can you give me some time to think?” Mr. Funny said, “I’ll give you a week, Moody. And remember, I’m going to pay you with real money. Not much, maybe, but real. You are tired of bags of peanuts, aren’t you?”

The Story of Moody

Once upon a time, lived a girl called Moody.

Moody is a girl who can’t just sit doing nothing, so she decided to work. She applied to work for Mr. Freebie, a very rich man with hundreds of business. Mr. Freebie hired Moody as a cigarette wrapper in his tobacco company, and paid her with a bag of peanuts every single day. “You have to work hard, Moody, because if you do… I’ll promote you to be a supervisor in the factory and I will pay you with three bags of peanuts everyday if I do,” Mr. Freebie said one day. Moody obeyed Mr. Freebie and worked as hard as she could, wrapping the cigarettes furiously to exceed her daily targets.