getting a kick out of good mental health…
I totally believe that a good sense of humour is essential to good mental health. It’s a good de-stress mechanism. But it has to be supported by something funny in the first place. It is not just laughing for the sake of laughing. Sorry. That means the likes of a laughter club doesn’t quite cut it for me. It’s somewhat disconcerting – forced laughter. So yeah… there needs to be something funny to laugh at.
Laugh at our own bloopers or when somebody jokes about something we said or did. Laugh for the same reason, at and hopefully (if the person has a sense of humour :p), with others. Laugh at syntax errors. Laugh at antics. Laugh watching a comedy. A spoof. A Bollywood tragedy… 
sorry, it’s so “drama” that it tickles my funny bone. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not laughing at the people or culture, just the situation, the plot and genre of flim-making…
Like how many fatal blows (see there’s a problem right there), does it take to kill someone. Like this guy was shot. Kicked at by ALL his attackers. Brain battered with a bat. “Blood” oozing.. no, no, wait..gushing, from every possible opening in the body…… Cut to commercial and the next scene shows him on a hospital bed!!! Merely with a bandaged head, full head of hair.. hahaha.. It’s a miracle! He’s alive!!!
My mum and aunt are hilarious. They went shopping one day to the Ladies’ Department of a well-known department store. While browsing for a blouse, my aunt was fingering all the sleeves of the blouses to have a feel of the material. The blouses were either on hangers hung on racks or on mannequins. Thank God it was just the sleeves. 
So lost was she in the rapture of material touching 
she had the shock of her life when her “mannequin” moved!!! She jumped letting out a string of unmentionables. Noooo… it’s not a scene from the Little House of Horrors. She had touched a real, living, breathing human’s blouse! And “we were not amused”. Obviously doesn’t enjoy good mental health. :p Anyway, she must have been a block of wood for my aunt to have mistaken her for a mannequin!
My mum coming towards my aunt saw this and laughed at my aunt (who was by then, hysterically laughing too). My mum laughed and laughed and laughed until she bumped into someone. She apologised profusely to the woman, who also didn’t seem to respond. Then she looked up and saw her own reflection! She had bumped into a mirror. That started the histrionics all over again.
Another gem for my eldest sister and I was when we were pulling an overnighter with some friends at the beach (all clean fun) and had only one large mat for like a dozen “carcasses” whose spirits were more willing than the bodies, to keep awake. It was quite a squeeze as we had just plonked ourselves width-wise across the mat. Even then, it could not accommodate all. Being the considerate person that she is, my second sister, brain fried… I mean brainwave :p and all, shouted excitedly, “I know! I know! We should all sleep vertically!” hahahaha… Whereupon, the smart aleck in the group jumped to his feet, stood at attention and said, “Great idea, Xx!”, before collapsing into a crumpled heap, laughing till he cried. You’ve heard of “die standing” (which is a literal translation from the Malay language). Here’s one for Wikipedia, “sleep standing”. Try it. Besides creating space, it helps in blood circulation….goes straight to your feet to prevent cramps… hahaha… Anyway, it still solved our problem. All of us laughed so hard that we became wide awake and needed only sitting space. hahaha…
Syntax errors or wrong word usage get my funny bone too. My niece and nephew (actually add mother dear to the fray too) would automatically, in mock horror start “gnawing” at their hands, when their father sometimes slips and says, “Eat yourself”. Not that I am a specialist, but I think it’s syntax of the Hokkien dialect creeping in.
Oxymorons, especially spotted by a then five-year old boy and two-year old girl, can be funny too. A cartoon “Sheep in the City” had a private named Private Public and a general named General Specific. Then add to that very cuuuuuute toddlers laughing gleefully, remarking, “Oxymo[w]on” to each other. That just takes the cake.
Which is why an adult not able to distinguish “tricky” homonyms is a laugh-a-minute. In a work e-mail, someone had written, “Corporate [office] will take up 50% of the cost, so that you will not have to bare all”… ahahahahahaha…. I should hope not!
There’re more where that came from but I should stop. I’m way over my quota. This is my longest post ever. Hopefully you got a kick out of this and not some shuteye. It is for your mental health :p Better yet, if you post your own funny moments.
be careful what we dislike in others?…..
I read, way back when (and this is a bad paraphrase), that those things we dislike in others, are the same things we dislike about ourselves and the converse is true too ie, the things in other people that we like, are the very same things we like about ourselves.
If that is the case, (speaking about the former statement, I mean) then I’m in trouble. Lately, I’ve developed a more sinister loathing for birds! They fly about, eat, then with nothing better to do, dump crap on my car!!! Especially after I have just washed my car. Ok, I have to rephrase that. Especially, after I just sent my car to the petrol station for a hand wash. My phobia of birds started when I was an oxymoronic cute, pudgy, five-year old. But now it’s just a crappy relationship! Not to mention that the shitty acidity kills the paintwork of my car. %*##*!!^^#@ birds!
On a more serious note, I have been commenting on people whose actions have truly upset me lately. To be fair to me (which better side is there for me to take ), I generally have a gut response to people I meet, interact, work with. But as a rule, I hold judgement till a grievous wrong has been done (not necessarily only to me but to others); Especially if the “wronged” ones are not aware of the efforts to stick a knife in their backs, are defenceless, just want to keep peace and therefore do not retaliate or want to help someone else.
I’ve been known to privately allude to people who shall remain unnamed, as lily-livered cowards (blame Shakespeare – it was his adjective) who avoids facing up to real issues. Spineless jellyfish (due to inconsistent principles depending which way the “wind” blows and the lack of integrity). Two-faced as they act (pretend? to be) as a friend but are constantly seeking out and sleeping with the enemy and enemy’s people to protect themselves. Those who speak bad English “phenomenonly” well and are experts at everyone else’s job because as the 007, are everyone’s best critique. Female dogs “who have been around” and wave the invisible hand but will never be accountable. Female dogs’ companions. I think that’s a comprehensive enough, list. :p
So what do I make of the psychological diatribe? That somewhere along the line in my life’s journey, I was a female dog ? :0 I lack integrity? I am not accountable ? ….. Gee… and heaven forbid, that I speak “phenomenonly” bad English?!!! And therefore, dislike the very same that I see in others? Hmmmm…..
My grandma used to spew proverbs on a daily basis. My aunt, mum and the rest of us, fortunate enough to know her well, still remember and use them. One of them was “Always look at yourself in the mirror first”.
I understand that. It helps us be less judgemental and more gracious as we become more aware of our own shortcomings. And yes, I have them. Like I am quick tempered, therefore the special relationship with the %*##*!!^^#@ birds! (Does the proverb apply to birds? )
But does it always mean that what we dislike about what we see in others reflects who we are/were? Those negative descriptions mentioned earlier are diametrically opposed to principles and values that are good. Like taking accountability. Having integrity. Speaking good English :p (not just hua yu cool) ….
I dearly hold these values close to my heart…. So what should I make of this?
hair today and gone tomorrow (hopefully) …
I told my hair stylist that I have a face like an open car door. Broad. Therefore, the short look, chic notwithstanding, would open up that face to too much scrutiny. So all I did today was to cut my fringe short. I’m not sure about short bangs too now. There’s still a lot of face to deal with Besides, I’ve always preferred pixie-sized proportions (of which I was the proud owner of), with short locks.
Her receptionist on hearing my complaint, offered her perfect solution. Short hair with a long fringe! The short back, keeps the style chic and fresh and the fringe to help with my need to cover the car door proportions of my face.
My hair stylist continued (I think she was trying to affirm me), “Your face is not big. In fact, I think it’s too small for… er…..the rest of you.”
The tailing of of the voice after “too small for” was her catching herself from saying “your body”! So much for affirmation. From big face to “big-boned”. But that’s not the body of work for today.
This Hamlet-like, see-saw of a motion of “to cut short” or “not too short” has been a preoccupation….well, only on my visits to the hairdresser. So yes, my track record with hairdressers has not been great. Not my fault though. They force me to jump ship everytime they get the gleam in their eye with shears in their hands, ready to clip my tresses like Edward Scissorhand does to hedges.
Why the ding donging about mowing my hair? It has its roots in this image that I have entrenched in my head. I was the new-kid-on-the-block in the bank I used to work at. Coming from a less “professional” industry, I was riotous in a bright yellow silk blouse with orange and purple geometrical motif and a purple skirt. A younger, nubile body notwithstanding, I was hauled up for its inappropriateness (I thought folks in Marketing were creative) towards a clean, sleek silhoutte in sombre black, sashaying away, back towards me, long mane, all curled and styled bouncing against her back. Suddenly someone called out to her, let’s just refer to her as Mandy, and she turned.
If there were music playing, it would be one of those melt-down moments when the music goes off-key and slides to a lower register. I’m sorry, the truth hurts but the back looked better than the front! :p I am sure she would have been terrific in her heyday and semblances of it flashed through that day but you know how quickly a flash dissipates. She was past 40 and the long ringlets were bouncier than the collagen-deprived face. That image stuck in my mind! And as a young 20 something, I swore I would cut my hair short once I hit 40!
40’s come and gone and being now where she was, I’m quite certain it’s about trying to snatch a few more years of … I dunno…flirtatious, long locks which somehow symbolises a bastion of youth. All of my life I’ve always had short hair. Bob cut, boy cut, boot camp cut… whatever my mum deemed suitable for a child in uniform. So when I finally wrested control of my hair, I’ve worn it long except for one moment of madness, now perpetuated in my driver’s licence but framing a thin face and body.
Believe you me, one day I would like that chic, cropped look. The real block is unpiling the pounds. Belly ho! :p
Meanwhile, please don’t call out to me while I’m walking away from you, especially when you have a young impressionable person with you. You wouldn’t want another traumatised Hamletta unleashed to the world.
Beauty is only skin deep….
Judging a person based on physical appearance is just … superficial. Cosmetic.
The original proverb first found in a work by Sir Thomas Overbury’s, poem Wife 1613 states:
“All the carnall beautie of my wife, Is but skinne-deep.”
As an aside, The Phrase Finder added, “what his wife thought isn’t recorded”… hmmm… did you hear the one “hell has no fury as a woman scorned”?! :D
But I digress. Back to the basis of the source of the proverb - it suggests a disdain of focusing on physical attributes, as physical beauty is no guarantee of good character and temperament, ie “don’t judge a book by its cover”. Yet the focus on physical beauty continues to be propagated, by the same species as the person who decried it. When it started it mostly applied to the fairer sex. Well, look who set the rules….. But increasingly, it is now about beautiful/attractive ”people”.
It is one of those things conditioned in life. A vicious cycle rooted in socialisation which is rooted in industry (those involved in celluloid – not to be confused with cellulite, heaven forbid! :0 to retail including cosmetics – you do know what that really means, right? It does not mean make-up. Fitness or “wellness” industries and even publications. Look at the fairy tales we feed our kids on… and the list goes on). This is further entrenched by the media which conditions us. We perpetuate the myth and the cycle goes on. Everyone knows and probably practises it whether consciously or subconsciously, but few will admit to it.
It is strange. But if we think about it, we tend to associate attractive people with more positive attributes. We like shiny things. Nothing dull. Or too fat. (Is there a politically correct word for that – cellulite challenged?). Or too thin (non cellulite challenged?) and on and on…. Let’s face it. Would you rather hang around with a group of attractive people (whether you feel “belong” or not) or with the not “in” crowd. Perhaps there’s been a misunderstanding of the principle of osmosis and some think there is some sort of tranference, that will bless hangers-on with the attributes of those they hang on to.
Well, you certainly can’t blame them. What with studies proving that attractive people “score” on the social level. We won’t go into the details of that. But you can google it, guys. :p Get more opportunities – more doors open for interviews. Get paid more. Get better treatment in restaurants etc…
There is no disputing this. Some of us have proabably been guilty of this at some point in our lives, especially during our gullible (a nicer word for “stupid”) teenage years, for some sadly, teenage insecurities carry to the grave! Why do you think more doctors go into cosmetic and reconstructive surgery? People feel pressure to change their physical appearance to be more attractive. To get equal opportunity or they are just plain insecure.
Where does it stop? It’s easy to say beauty comes from within, but in practise, that’s a lot more difficult. Stereotypes are just very hard to beat.
Undeniably, those blessed with good looks do tend to get a headstart in life. I use ‘headstart’ and not ‘get ahead’. Admittedly, it does open doors, throws wide open windows and elicits response from even the most stoic; but beauty will only get us so far.
Remember the movie Cyrano de Begerac … oh wait a minute that was a work of fiction woven around the life story of a real French dramatist and duellist. He did not write love letters for the Baron and did not get the girl in the end.
Hmmm… can’t recall off hand a movie where the nerd gets the girl or vice versa, without a transformation.
I got it! The proof of the pudding that the average joe and jane do get to proof their worth after all other attractive people are disqualified first, is the evidence of “bimbo” and “himbo” jokes. That’s serious stuff. There can’t be smoke without a fire!
I was born… ok I grew to be of more porky proportions, in adulthood (due to the banker’s lunch syndrome and late night dinners, coupled with no exercise). While I try to manage my weight to a less than larger than life proportion, for health reasons, I will not do so because the celluloid world or any other world tells me I need to be a size 2 or 0!! Shops which sell clothes for twigs and clothes hangers will just have to do without my support. The more fool they.
So where does this leave us? Ever considered being comfortable in your own skin? Try that. There is truth in” beauty comes from within”. The more secure you are, the less needy you become, the more attractive you are. It takes time for superficial people to see that. But they don’t matter. It’s people who can see beyond physical appearance that matter. And thankfully, grey matters too!
Keep in touch….
The phrase “keep in touch” is the most oft-used phrase among people who will probably end up, well, never keeping in touch. They know they are not pursuing a meaningful relationship or friendship or continuing a meaningless one, with the recipient of the phrase; but the phrase is uttered regardless at the end of an encounter or episode of their lives. Just in case – who knows what they might need to extract from you in future.
So to hedge their bets, they say “keep in touch” as it probably sounds benignly sincere but uttering it is probably the closest to any action they will ever take, to keep in touch.
In that case, they should know there is another benign word closer to sincere, that is more versatile.
“Take care” . Whoever is the author of this phrase, is brilliant.
It sounds more final and does not promise anything that remotely requires follow up except on the recipient’s part. So for people you never really intended to take up with after the encounter, it is a sincere and final goodbye. Your kind thoughts will be much appreciated but no follow up action expected. Your heartfelt sayonara was for them to take care of themselves and not you, them.
But with people you do intend to take up with, a follow up call, e-mail, sms will carry the sincerity to reality. So the “keep in touch” in this instance, is unspoken but implied.
Of course, there are some people who use “keep in touch” more sincerely. But for the most part in my experience, it is for the uneasy closure with people who are not that close but who they may still want to keep tabs on, i mean, keep in contact with the other. This because they might very well end up doing so in the distant or not too distant future, when the need arises to be nosy and confirm some news or gossip they have just heard, or to add fodder to feed the existing gossip bullet train. Or they might want something from you. If none of the above, then going back to premise, it is just uneasy closure for people who really don’t want to keep in touch.
My conjecture is this. With people we want to keep in touch with, we will do so automatically, without having to say it. It will be a natural extension of a friendship already established from the previous encounter. No matter the timespan of the next encounter, we merely pick up where we left of. We will even say “take care” at the end of an exchange, as well 
Mind your Ps…
Did you know there is chi chi Parisian chic in Shanghai and there is Pyjama party allure too?
Alongside, dog-toting, high-heeled, exotic-print skin (no offence to animal lovers) sandals, someone else is walking around all decked out in red and black stripe pyjamas, silk none less, with matching black dress shoes, at a high-end suburb.
Or a fashion statement, draped on the arm of a non-chinese man, with long, black silky hair bouncing against a slim back clothed in the latest trench coat for spring versus cotton draped, knee-length pyjamas and a head full of curlers with high heeled slippers, on the back of a scooter.
No offence to Shanghai. In fact, I like this quirkiness about it. Gives spring in Shanghai its pizzaz!
What would be nice for OCDs like me, and this applies not only to Shanghai, but anywhere in the world where public washrooms are none too sanitary, would be clean public washrooms; With non-exposed soiled napkins (not the sanitary ones offered in restaurants), without the aroma of ammonia-based liquids, flushed cisterns with no evidence of digested morsels through another channel opening south of the border … (I could go on, but you get the picture).
I swear I see pained faces walking around looking parched like in the desert for lack of water, knees turned inwards magically hoping to hold the forces of nature within. The issue at hand is the very same OCD masochists will continue to travel to exotic destinations as other experiences outweigh any misgivings of public sanitation.
So while the world plays catch up to OCD standards of hygiene, here’s the OCD SOP (Standard Operating Procedure) as you make your way around the world. Please note this SOP only concerns itself with holding the pee in and will not be liable for any ill-effects thereof. It is by no means exhaustive as I am a true believer of item #1, so please add on to the list, to help fellow sufferers out there.
- At the pinnacle of discipline – Remain dehydrated. Do NOT drink any water AT ALL in the course of the day. It also presupposes that accommodation meets OCD requirements (which is a topic for another day) and as such keep drinking rampages only to the night when safely ensconced in decent guest house with good sanitation.
- Where the spirit is willing but flesh is WEAK (tsk, tsk) drink water only occasionally, one gulp at a time after long intervals, just to wet the lips.
- Substitute water with fruits to hydrate yourself if you need. Please note that this too poses some danger especially fruits like oranges, so a bite of an apple every hour should do the trick.
- Even if steps 1, 2 or 3 are adhered to and you have a weak bladder, turn knees inward. This does not do anything for you but warns people around you not to make you laugh.
- If you have the means and you are in the city, find a high-end restaurant so you can eat and do the pee deed.
- If in rural areas, bring a “sarong” and a friend. Get as far out into the open as you can as far away from the actual outhouses. Get into the sarong that your friend will hold up (peeking is a lesser risk than snakes) and do the deed south of where he/she is standing. You don’t want to lose a friend.
- ?
More on how to mind your P…..? Fire away.
