bakpakchik

Local Retardeds!

noreply@blogger.com (bakpakchik) — Wed, 22 Aug 2007 19:03:00 +0000

Umm, okay, I would just like to run a casual poll on whether I am alone in finding this slightly distrubing:

The UAE Ministerial Resolution No. (275) For the Year 2006, issued by the (quote)Ministerial of Labour (unquote) states:

Article One
The foundations have to take into account the right of the local retardeds to get a job suiting their capabilities and qualifications.

Local retardeds?!!

Okay, granted that English is probably not the language that this Article was originally drafted in ... but still, some ministerial translator out there needs to go in for some serious retraining!

Most Curious

noreply@blogger.com (bakpakchik) — Thu, 26 Jul 2007 14:53:00 +0000

Yet another feather in my cap of notriety. Ujala-haters of the world, unite!

LOL. Seems like the Sadu post below and it's excessive use of the word 'bitch' didn't go down well with some one who apparently is an acquintance of mine and wishes to have a verbal battle with me Anonymously.

I understand. It must be an awful burden to carry such hate in your heart for someone you know and socialise with. If this makes you feel better honey, please carry on. Sticks and stones can break my bones, but you know what they say about words :)

The thing is sweetheart, I am what I am and in this battle of words, I will always come out on top. Not because I am right and you are wrong, and not even because I care about winning. I don't even know who the fuck you are, why would I give a flying fuckabout what youthink?!

See, the thing is, I am not hiding behind a cloak of anonymity. I am neither hiding anything, nor am I divorcing my thoughts/feelings from association with me. On my blog, I say what I want to say ... as I do in real life.

And that's why a whole bunch of sorry-assed MotherFuckers like you can't stand me. Well, guess what? I don't give a flying fuck. Really.

Let me explain something about myself to you: I'm a very simple person. I don't spend hours analysing the things people say and do and try to determine whether they are or are not genuine. It's a waste of time. Sooner or later, everyone proves their worth. If you're nice to me, I'm nice back. I won't dwell at all on ulterior motives you might have. If I like you, I like you. If I don't, no force in the world can fucking make me.

I don't pretend. Which is more than what I can say for you.

For all I know, you might be someone I actually like because you probably act all nice and friendly when we meet, while in your heart you are secretly loathing me. You really can't blame me for being nice to you if you put on your best behaviour around me, now can you?

I am trying to understand this, but can't quite get my head around it: why would you want to associate/socialise with me if you can't stand me?

Are you someone from work? In which case, it is understandable and I might even have a little bit of respect for you.

Are you one of my relatives/cousins/extended family? In which case, again understandable because family is tricky to cut out. But in this case, I have no respect for you. My family is pretty homogenous and whatever any one has more/less of is their own doing. Being a middle-class family, we have come from the same background/values and if you feel any resentment, then babe, whatever shithole you're in, you dug yourself into it .

Are you someone I went to school/uni with? Are you surprised that someone who couldn't really afford to go out for dinners and stuff with friends can now vacation in Europe every week is she so wished? Or are you upset that someone who dropped out of college can actually make a decent living and hold a respectable job?

Are you a friend/relative of my huband's? If yes, then I have the least respect for you. The simplest thing to do is cut out the spouse of a friend/relative you don't aprove of. Just go ahead and do it. What are you scared of?!

Is it some perverse, incessant compulsion you have of pleasing everyone - even someone you hate? What are you trying to prove by keeping in touch with me? How does it make you feel about yourself ... knowing that you have such little control over your own life that you can't even choose to stop seeing someone you despise. Ah, no wonder you hate me. You're probably just jealous that I have the guts and the freedom to not keep things up for merely appearance's sake.

I am also trying to understand this term you keep using: "paki trailer trash". Can you define that one for me please? I understand the traditional 'trailer trash' concept: y'know, the foul-mouthed, bleached, uneducated, grammar-lacking Americans stuck in dead-end jobs such as flipping burgers.

I swear like a sailor and my hair is sometimes bleached, but my grammar's quite good and my job requires me to wear a jacket. I don't understand what part of me seems 'trailer trash' to you. I have a feeling it's the swearing.

Is it?

Do you find it offensive that a pakistani, muslim, married girl uses words like these? Well, tough luck bitch/bastard. I will advise you to fucking take your head out of your ass. Or you know what, keep it there. That's probably where it belongs.

Another thing that amuses me is how fixated you are on how I spend my money. Dude, it's my money. Whether I feed an orphan in Romania with it, or blow it all on a Bvlgari ring is none of your fucking business.

And as side note to the same issue, please put it in your head that I am well aware of the fact that buying footwear does not buy one class. Let me tell you how my mind works when I go shoe-shopping: I need a pair of red shoes so I either go to some shop purposefully looking for some, or I randomly spot them. In either case, a shoe is a shoe and honestly, when I buy 'em, all I am thinking is that I needed a GodDamned red paira heels and I found some within my budget. Which MotherFucker says I'm trying to buy 'class'?!!! Jeezus man, talk about overanalyzing shit!

In any case, it might be your in sad little world where you try to please everyone at the same time where you might covet 'class'. Me? I don't give two shits about 'class'. What is 'class' anyway? Oh wait, I know the answer to this one: I bet to you 'class' is not using words like 'bitch' and 'fuck'. Well, gues what, I do. Those and a couple of others. I can make you a list if you want.

I don't give a fuck about 'class'. I am what I am and I am happy being that way. My family is fine with it. My husband is fine with it. And most of my friends are fine with it too. The one's that aren't, well, they can fuck off because I can always make new friends but there's only one 'me', and if I change that 'me' for people who can't take the real 'me', then I'm a spineless git.

This is me. Take it or leave it. It's as simple as that.

I don't change for people and I don't expect them to change for me.

So, if - in some part of your heart - you're hoping that a miracle might occur and I might turn over a new leaf, then wake up and smell the methane. I am not gonna unlearn my swearwords and I am not gonna suddenly acquire what you call 'class'. It's not happening ... so don't waste your time and my time by smiling at me over dinner and asking me how's work.

Because bitch, if I knew who you were, I would fucking show you shit you are for wasting my time.

As a last note: it's my blog and I can write whatever I want on it. If I was scared/hurt/effected by you or your comments, I would just disable them. But I don't, because your Anoymous comments just go to show how pathetic you are.

Sadly, I will not be able to find out your identity because you are obviously too scared of too many things. Happily, none of that is my problem.

If you can answer any of my questions without revealing your identity, then please do ... I am most curious :)

MSNing with Sadu

noreply@blogger.com (bakpakchik) — Wed, 18 Jul 2007 17:58:00 +0000

oooj@la: I hear you coming back tomorrow bitch
sadu: yes bitch
oooj@la: ok bitch, call me when you get here bitch
sadu: sure bitch, anything u say bitch
oooj@la: cool see ya soon then bitch!
sadu: whats the thurs night plan bitch
oooj@la: i am sadududududuiing whether you like it or not bitch
sadu: huh?? what dat mean bitch
oooj@la: meaning i hang out with you bitch! no?
sadu: you do? bitch! i arrive 10pm....
oooj@la: LOL, ok, then friday bitch. or saturday
sadu: cool....sounds like a plan kutti
oooj@la: acha, kutti now. fine kutti, have it your way
oooj@la: i am sure the husbaaaands will want to fix up something too ... kutti
sadu: my husband is not coming with me kutti
oooj@la: did you sell him for diamonds?
sadu: diamonds and more
oooj@la: oooooh, dont worry. i will love you long time .... if you share the diamonds with me kutti!
sadu: lol ... BITCH KUTTI
oooj@la: i am your BITCH KUTTI baby

LOL ... I love my Sadu, yes I do :)

noreply@blogger.com (bakpakchik) — Mon, 09 Jul 2007 17:27:00 +0000

I’m not new to scepticism when it comes to the ‘insane’ things I wanna do (perceived as such by THEM … I think all my ideas are perfectly sane!).

THEY thought I was out of my mind when I wanted to cycle 500 kilometres in 5 days around the UAE for charity. THEY also thought I was off my rocker when I decided to climb 52 stories of the Emirates Towers a few months ago for the MSF vertical Marathon.

I did both. With a smile. A smirk even.

And yet THEY doubted that I would really have the balls to skydive. Me? A puny little thing? Plummet myself from a plane? Of my own free will? I must have TOTALLY lost the plot.

Maybe I have. And all the more glad I am for having done so :)

The idea was hatched by Luni at the Vertical Marathon. A bunch of us from work had done the 52 floors together. Red-faced and a little out of breath, over the celebratory breakfast, we thought we should do something together again. Something a little bit more … erm … ballsy. The ladies bowed out and I was left with Luni and three guys agreeing to come along for the ride.

We planned and plotted for weeks and somehow the plan always fell through at the last minute. Someone was out of town. Someone was moving house. Someone for somereasonortheother. Last week though, we all threw in the towel and decided it’s now or never. Luni, ironically, despite being the Hatcher of Da Plan, would not be able to make it. Apparently, they have a maximum weight limit for tandem jumps and Luni being a bit of a Big Girl teetered on the wrong side of the limit. :(

Now before you get images in your head of BPC happily parachuting along, let me set the record straight: we were to go for a tandem jump, which is defined as a way to “allow the curious potential student to experience, first-hand, the thrills of skydiving without the stress of AFF or SL progression”. Or, in other words, it’s “for the adventurous spirit who cannot adequately meet the physical or proficiency requirements (and) by relying on Tandem Master's skills, they will still be able to experience the thrill of skydiving”.

Quite simply, you are strapped to the front of the tandem instructor who does all the hard work and you just enjoy the view. And the experience.

So off BPC went, all smiles to the UmmAl Quwain Aeroclub, not paying heed to the naysayers (‘What if your parachute won’t open?’, ‘What if your appendix explodes from the pull of gravity,’ and so on). The only thing that gutted me was the fear in Arfiman’s eyes: there was no way in Hell he was doing it, and he couldn’t quite understand why I was. Being the darling he is though, even though he neither understood nor whole-heartedly approved, he came along to cheer me on.

The hour-long drive to the Aeroclub was quite an adventure in itself, what with all the wrong turns and back-tracking. Once we got there, The Signing of The Forms was not very confidence inspiring. Not for me … I was on such a high just at the thought of the dive that a pack of rabid dogs would not have been able to change my mind. It was Arfiman who wasn’t too happy with me signing a bunch of papers with references to not suing anyone for anything going wrong – death or injury.

We had booked a jump for 12 o clock and due to various delays, it was actually 4 before we got into our jumpsuits. (Don’t even get me started on the shouting match I had with the Admin to get us that slot instead of the 6 o clock one they were gonna put us in!). Now that I’ve jumped once though, and am a bit more familiar with the etiquette and constraints of a DropZone, I think my shouting was slightly excessive. (Let me add on Arfiman’s behalf, my shouting almost always is! LOL)

Okay, so I claim to be real gutsy and all, but even I was surprised at my nerves of steel. Not for a nanosecond did I feel any emotion except for extreme excitement.

As my photos will show you, I was all teeth all the way. Right from the on-ground training to the actual toss out the plane. Some credit does go to my tandem instructor, JJ, whose name I did not find out till I signed the logbook at the end of the day. My bad. He did tell me off a bit for not knowing his name despite having loudly proclaimed my time with him as ‘the best three minutes of my life’. Kudos to Arfiman for being probably the only DH in the whole world that will tolerate his wife saying so to another man in his presence. LOL.

As a guy packed my future in a backpack (read: parachute), I was dressed up in my oversized red jumpsuit by JJ and my videographer/photgrapher Steve. They had to fold the sleeves and legs up quite a bit and it was still all over the place. I envied the boys with their tall frames looking all sexy in their snug-fitting jumpsuits while I looked like a little 12 year-old playing at a grown up game! Well, at least my suit matched my manicure ;)

Adrenaline already pounding in my ears, I only half-listened, half-zoned-out as JJ drilled me on the positions I needed to assume during the freefall and landing. Clambering into the tiny aircraft, I waved my Arfiman off into the distance and up went the plane.

I had been warned that the climb would take about half an hour and Steve and JJ might catch a few Zs (which they did). It was totally surreal looking at Umm Al Quwain growing tinier and tinier under us and knowing that THIS is what I would be jumping into.

We reached about 10,000 ft. in what seemed to be a lot shorter than half an hour (but actually was a full 30 minutes) and a freefalling jumper riding with us just slid open the door and dived headfirst into the open blue. My jaw popped wide I saw him turn into a tiny dot and then I could feel JJ strapping my harness onto his. He recounted the instructions he had already given me on the ground as well as right before take off, but for all I knew, he could have been naming Dwarves. He pushes me towards the open door of the aircraft and I looked down to see for the first time that view without the security of a glass window built into a solid wall that would keep me from falling out: it was the ground 10,000 ft below me and the only thing keeping me up was my butt on the floor of the plane. My legs hooked under the open door and JJ behind me, I swear I realized what it must be like to be in Heaven. I was still amazed at my own self … there was not a nervous hair on my body. Then JJ rocked me back and forth, one two three and out we go!

We fell out of the plane and there we were - actually freefalling. Free falling from 10,000 feet at 200kph - the most surreal experience imaginable. It sounds ridiculous, but it wasn’t frightening at all. All I could think was ‘wow’. The ground was so far away that hitting it didn’t seem like a tangible threat.

DropZone.com says that “Freefall sounds scarier than it is. In reality you barely have a sensation of "falling" while skydiving. All you feel is the excitement of the air rushing past you. And, because there's nothing up there for your brain to use as a reference point to tell you that you're falling, it will feel more like you're lying on a column of air, floating.”

And that’s just what I felt like. I was going down at about 200 kph – a speed I have never yet reached whilst driving my own car – and yet, I felt like I was floating. Everything’s happening so fast - the air’s rushing in your face and you want to take in the view but you have to remember to smile at the camera and enjoy being spun around. You keep forgetting to breathe and you think it’s absolutely insane that you’re up there, just flying through the air... and then all of a sudden, the parachute opens.

I will quote DropZone.com again (because they say it so much better than I ever can!): “Upon opening your parachute it'll feel like you're being pulled upwards. You're not going up. You're just decelerating pretty quickly and that causes the sensation.”

I saw Steve (who was till now floating/freefalling alongside us and filming me) freefall into the distance and that’s when it first hit me how fast we had been freefalling. Wow!

Once the parachute opened, it turned instantly from crazy, air-rushing-around-you, hysterical experience to total serenity. After the rustle of the parachute opening up, there was absolute quiet. Not a sound except for the wind howling ever so slightly. And that in itself was a crazy, crazy few minutes.

There I am, strapped in front of this guy, a couple of thousand feet in the air. I can see the teeny, tiny world underneath me and we strike up a conversation about what JJ does for a living. He tells me that he is a risk analyst during the week and skydiving is his passion so he does tandems on weekend. I ask him if it pays much. Not really, he tells me. It barely covers his expenses. But he loves the sport and he get free jumps, so hey, it’s a fair deal. We enjoy a few moments of quiet too, taking in the gorgeous views of Umm Al Quwain’s mangroves on one side and the deserts on the other. He lets me steer the chute a bit, but when I try and steer us towards the beach (‘because it looks like a much nicer place to land than the airstrip!’) he politely snatches the grips and steers us back towards the landing strip … which is now looming larger and larger under our feet. That tiny speck of green becomes the size of my palm, then the size of my living room couch and before I know it, I have to bend my knees and pull my feet up to prepare for the landing.

As we land, I forget that I am still strapped to JJ and just want to plop down on the grass and savour the best experience of my life. Sadly, I am told to ‘stand up now’. JJ unhooks me and I thank him. And then I run into the arms of awaiting Arfiman, who still looks shell-shocked – like he can’t believe I just did that and am back.

What do I feel post-jump? It’s been almost three days now and I can still feel the adrenaline pumping through my veins.

I wikipediaed it, and turns out, it might not even really be adrenaline: “the medical view is that the rush or high associated with the activity is not due to adrenaline being released as a response to fear, but due to increased levels of dopamine, endorphins and serotonin because of the high level of physical exertion.”

Hmm, physical exertion there was none. But giving it the benefit of the doubt, and assuming it was adrenaline, I can safely call myself an "adrenaline junkie".

As Bob Drury, a paraglider pilot says, "We do these things not to escape life, but to prevent life escaping us".

I seriously can’t wait to double my dive count! Hell, I'm even entertaining thoughts of doing the whole Accelerated Free Fall course and become a certified solo jumper! :)

Check out the pix at http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=8406&l=893c1&id=597207250 and http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=8524&l=e4fcf&id=597207250

Babies

noreply@blogger.com (bakpakchik) — Mon, 18 Jun 2007 17:58:00 +0000

BPC loves surprises. And when those suprises involve the sudden arrival in town of her Best Girl, then BPC is in heaven.

BPC was in heaven this weekend. The 'rents were all mysterious about weekend plans which involved Arfiman and I accompanying them to visit family in the boonies (read Al Ain) and while I let it slide (cuz in my family we do everything by the seat of our pants) Arfiman was mighty perturbed (cuz in his family they are super-organized and all plans require three-day advacne notice to all parties). How the heck did we end up together?!! LOL

So anyway, Arfiman is also highly perceptive and kept insisting that my 'rents were being way too mysterious and I kept brushing it off.

Come Thursday, they arrive at our doorstep with who in tow?

SOMI!!!!! Of course, with Baby and Hubby. First time I set eyes on little Anooshey (fondly referred to by me as Pooshey).

Little Pooshey was so adorable and those pudgywudgy thighs were just edible.

All cuteness aside though, Somi's supershort trip was a huge reminder to myself and Arfiman how and why we were so not ready to have a little one ourselves.

Cute as she was, little Pooshey made her parents dance around in circles and that is a dance i am really not looking forward to dancing anytime soon.

I am talking about constant interruptions: breast-feeding, diaper changeing, spit-up cleaning ... Somi and I couldn't sit and talk for five minutes straight. We went on a dinner cruise and ended up being so embarassed because Pooshey wouldn't stop crying and even though I felt sorry for the little bunny, I also felt sorry for all the people who paid 250 dhs for a cruise with wailing baby for background music.

Next day, Arfiman and I were browsing second-hand books at House of Prose and the Parenting books section caught my eye. There must have been a billion titles there: What to Expect When You're Expecting, The Guide for First Time Mums, How To Be A Dad, Home Remedies for Babies (interesting title that: what do they tell you? how to make a baby out of common household ingredients?!) So shelf upon shelf of books for people who are about to have a child or have just had one.

What about people who don't have a child or maybe dont want one just yet? Is no one writing any books for them?

I looked and looked and couldn't find a single book.

Maybe I have found a niche. I can already think of possible titles:

What To Expect When You're Not Expecting
Saying 'I Don't Want A Baby' is not the same as saying 'I don't want one EVER'
Childless, and yet somehow Happy (*gasp*)

LOL

Seriously though.

There was a funny moment when Arfiman and I were holding Pooshey and posing for a pic and I say to him : When this picture comes out, we'll be able to see what we will look like with a baby.

Arfiman: Are you kidding me? You would be fatter and I would have kiddy slobber on my shoulder
BPC: And I would have a huge diaper bag instead of this cute clutch and would probably be wearing flats instead of stillettos and ...

and before I get to finish my sentence Pooshey starts wailing and spits up on Arfiman's shoulder ...

Arfiman: Take this baby away from me NOW!
BPC: You are not coming near me without protection for a very, very long time!

LOOOOOOOOL

A million reasons why I love you ...

noreply@blogger.com (bakpakchik) — Tue, 12 Jun 2007 18:48:00 +0000

A million reasons why I love you, and neither enough words nor time to even begin ...

I love the way the bed is always warm on your side.

I love how you look when you are asleep when I wake up in the morning and roll over to look at you.

I love that you grab a lock of my hair when we sleep.

I love it when you smile when I kiss you forehed every morning before I leave for work.

I love the smile on your face when you find the lipstick mark while you shave.

I love it when you call me on your way to work.

I love it when you call me during the day because I didn't call you first.

I love that you check if i had my lunch today ... everyday :)

I love you telling me to drive carefully on my way home

I love it when you come home all tired and grumpy just so that I can kiss you better

I love the fact that you fix me shisha every night

I love that you offer to make your own chai if you think I'm not upto it

I love the way I can curl my toes under you while you play your XBox endlessly every night
I love the way you chew your lip when you play
I love those funny little new tickly things you come up with everyday
I love that I can still make you blush
I love you for bringing me flowers for no reason
I love you holding me in your arms and squeezing me
I love you nibbling on my thumbs
I love that I never have to explain myself to you
I love it that with you, I can be myself
I love the way you look, smell, feel, taste ...
I love you

I know I have said it to you every single night before we fall asleep, but I haven't written it down for you for a long, long time, so here it is: I love you.

I love you and I love you and I love you till I think I can love no more.

And then I love you some more.

But you know what the best part is?

Knowing that you always love me more :)

Cookie

noreply@blogger.com (bakpakchik) — Tue, 05 Jun 2007 18:57:00 +0000

I don't know what it is about what you do or how you feel about what you do that makes you act like you are better than me. That me doing something different makes me not quite as good - or as accomplished - as you.

I can totally not understand how you could find you are better simply by doing what you are doing when in actuality what you are doing is what EVERYBODY else does. If it's something every friggin' body does, then how does it make you any more special? Shouldn't I be the one acting like BigHead because I have chosen to take the road less travelled by?

Maybe in my head, I am the better person because I have taken the road less travelled by. Maybe choosing to be different is actually the more diffiuclt choice to make.

But that's not even what it is all about. What I'm trying to say is: why must you make me feel inadequate by glorifying what you do?

Of course, there is the possibility that on some level, I myself feel inadequate and less accomplished than you becasue you are doing something that I choose not to do. Yes, that thought has crossed my mind.

But when I think about it ... and I dont even have to think too hard to come to this conclusion ... I realise that the choices I have made (and continue to make) are made by me for a reason: I don't see life as a prescription.

I don't see Life as a step-by-step guide where someone has mapped out for you the things you need to do and told you the specific order you need to do them in and then put little boxes with recomended timelines.

No.

To me, Life is not a board game: Pass Go, Collect 200$ ... Get Out of Jail Free ... you have two hotels and BANG, you have it made.

Agreed, what you are doing is accepted as being a Great Thing and what I want to do might be Questionable. But Questionable according to whom?

I don't have a problem. Arfiman doesn't have a problem. No one has a problem except you and all those other guys who are going down the Other Road, and a whole load of other people to whom Life is obviously a set of dos-donts in very very black and white.

The sad part is, that whole load of other people includes some people I love very very much.

Why does it always have to be this way when it comes down to making a Big Decision? Why can't one simply choose to do what one wants without having to worry about the repurcussions on/from the people one loves?

It's sad really that this has to come between us, but if it has, then that's the way this cookie's crumbled.

Random MSN

noreply@blogger.com (bakpakchik) — Sun, 03 Jun 2007 20:39:00 +0000

This is what happens when you chat on MSN late at night, with a guy who has a Star Wars fetish and knows of yours for the Corvette:

abbas: your ass is huge - you need a corvette. it will reduce your ass size
oooj@la: shut your face
abbas: a corvette has four wheels. it will aid you
oooj@la: leave me alone
abbas: im taking this corvette with me
oooj@la: fine. see if i care
abbas: im setting it on fire
oooj@la: i will slice you with my light sabre
abbas: you dont like star wars enough to use one
oooj@la: i like it plenty
abbas: you will never hurt me. your belief is weak
oooj@la: then get your own corvette!
abbas: your belief is to weak for a corvette
oooj@la: we shall see about that in 2.5 years
abbas: the corvette hates you
oooj@la: it loves me so much it follows me around everyday
abbas: it breeds contempt for you in its valves
oooj@la: i think it is desire not contempt
abbas: its fuming
oooj@la: with desire
abbas: its gas
oooj@la: gassed with desire
abbas: with bad mexican food
oooj@la: what do you know abt mexican food?!
abbas: it jams up a car and makes it hard for it to fart
oooj@la: corvettes dont fart
abbas: yeah they do. you just plugged it
oooj@la: go play with yourself
abbas: that wont work with me. i say my namaz. allah mian says thats wrong
oooj@la: what else does allah main say is wrong?
abbas: he says corvettes should only be driven by people who can use blenders

Jeans and Stillettoes

noreply@blogger.com (bakpakchik) — Thu, 17 May 2007 18:49:00 +0000

I never thought of myself as a particularly stylish person. I've always been very laidback and casual in my dressing.

Heck, till some years ago, my dress sense was actually cringeworthy ... I look at some old pix and I can't imagine what I was THINKING when I bought that stuff!!!

The last few weeks though, have been refreshingly pleasant in that regard. I am going to blow my own trumpet here a bit (and I am allowed on my own blog if no where else)

The last few weeks I have received so many compliments on the way I dress that I might have gotten a little big-headed. (Which, I must add, is partially due to the fact that I seriously reconsidered my choice of workwear recently, but more on that later)

There is at least one Male who is totally obsessed with my choice of footwear and insists on being shown what shoes I am wearing on any given day our paths cross. Had a very funny moment today leaving a meeting whereby Male suddenly realized he hadn't seen my shoes and demanded a look. So there I am, balancing overstuffed handbag in one hand and laptop in the other, thinking 'Hm, how do I do this?'. I put a foot forward and give a peek (of my very beloved new acquisition, I must add: GodBless Victoria's Secret). He complained that my jeans were too long and he couldn't see the whole item. *sigh* Some tricky rebalancing, laptop shifting to hand already occupied with handbag and very discreet lifting of jeans to display the 'whole item'. Male left THAT meeting very content and very much in approval of my choice of footwear ... yet again.

Same shoes, another day, girls in another department totally oohing-aahing over. "Can I try it one?", "You have some real guts wearing shoes like this ... I could never carry it off", "Where did you GET these?!". LOL

Not bad for a pair that cost $39 plus shipping. If any of you gals is interested in talk-worthy paira stillettos, here's the link: http://www2.victoriassecret.com/commerce/application/prodDisplay/?namespace=productDisplay&origin=onlineProductDisplay.jsp&event=display&prnbr=ZN-207516&page=5&cgname=OSSALSDLZZZ&rfnbr=2868

Back to me and my 'style' for now, though. A few weeks ago I made an unintentional fauxpas that could have turned out real ugly, but turned out more to be a clear victory on my end (so someone IS watching over me after all!):

Annual dinner for company. Somewhere on the invite it DID say to wear dressy/formal workwear. Ofcourse, me being the way I am, did not read that bit. So I show up in a very funky Fuschia dress bought from Bershka (85 dhs!). And I walk into a sea of black dresses and skirt suits.

Damn.

I feel out of place for about five seconds until ALL eyes turn on me ... in a good way! That was two months ago and I still bump into people who rave about my 'smart' decision to wear such a funky outfit. LOL

So it was a few days ago that I finally decide I have HAD it with the corporate uniform of formal (read: uncomfortable) trousers and stiff collared shirts. Those things are a bitch to iron and how many times have I cheated and shown up at work with trousers without a sharp crease or tried to hid an unironed shirt under a jacket. Screw that. I'm more of a jeans kinda gal and to hell with anyone who tries to tell me otherwise.

So I twist my wardrobe around and show up for work in *gasp* jeans!

Don't get me wrong though .. it's still work and there is still a corporate image to uphold .. and that's where the fitted jackets come in.

Turns out, it might be the fact that I am looking 'different' from the sea of coordinated suits, or maybe simply the fact that I am for the first time entirely comfortable with what I am wearing for nine hours a day straight: the audience is loving it.

For one thing, all my shoes go better with my jeans. Damn my stilletto obsession :) But GodBless the common ol' jean and the five inch heel for making a petite girl look leggy.

I just might have stumbled on a winning combination here though. Damn, I FEEL good in dem jeans and heels and jacket. Not to forget the afore mentioned compliments I receive. *blush* Yes, modesty was never one of my strengths anyway.

LOL ... I even attended a meeting with The Big Bosses just to gauge their level of approval (or lack thereof) of jeans on A Day That Is Not Thursday, and you know what? I don't think they even give a tiny rat's ass what I wear. And if they don't, WHY SHOULD I TORTURE MYSELF WITH TROUSERS ?!!!

Never again.

Never EVER again.

(PS: Soon, I will put up a post about my nine pairs of shiny new footwear courtesty Victoria's Secret. So bring on dem anoynmous comments about me being shallow .... )

Chooper

noreply@blogger.com (bakpakchik) — Tue, 15 May 2007 19:13:00 +0000

Of all the things I never thought I'd live to see, this one was definitely not on the list ... and it shoulda been right up there at the top:

A chopper landing next to my car.

Really.

One minute, I am flying down SZR at 160 and the traffic starts piling up till I'm down to about 60. In the fast lane and I see a chopper flying low. Really low.

"It realy shouldn't be flying this low," I think to myself and before I know it, in a swirl of sand, IT LANDS RIGHT NEXT TO ME!

Well, not right next to me if oyu count the hard shoulder next to me, and then the road divider and then the hard shoulder on the opposite side of the road. But for simplicity's sake ... RIGHT NEXT TO ME!

Sand is being swirled about and rises up in huge, impenetrable walls and I slam the brakes hoping the tinted Beamer behind me doesn't ram into my ass.

It doesn't.

Quite surreal that was.

And that is my way stating my denial of the fact that it was yet another day on SZR with yet horrible traffic accident with yet another fatality.

There was a horrible bike accident on SZR a few mornings ago. Deceased was on a bike. Heard he was decapitated. Then, heard he was the cousin of a colleague. Saw colleague today. How life goes on.

Why is my post about choppers and decapitations?

Because there is so much on my mind right now that I cannot even begin to think about penning it down.

Virtual

noreply@blogger.com (bakpakchik) — Tue, 08 May 2007 20:35:00 +0000

Right now, there is much stress. There's good stress and there's bad stress. A rose by any other name ... *sigh*

'Nobody's perfect," he said. "And perfection is overrated."

"Perfect is boring," I judged.

And added "Lately though ... boring don't seem too bad."

Not really BPC.

Did you forget what being BPC was all about? About doing a new thing every minute? About OnceUponATime in a VirtualWorld telling VirtualFriends you want to see five new countries every year? How many years ago was that? And how many new countries have you seen since then?

Let me tell you: it's been just about five years and you have seen ... let's see ... ONE new country.

So 'boo' on you. Boo on your face and boo on saying Big Things That Fall Flat on your Face.

But do VirtualProclamations even count? Let's put it in perspective ... if the VirtualWorld mattered, then the VirtualFriends should have mattered too (and viceversa). And they did. And that's why BPC ran away. Somethings are better left ... for lack of a better word ... Virtual.

Speaking of Virtuality ... isn't it odd how you can be so comfortable with someone in the virtual world and then when he sits in front of you at lunch, it's so not the same thing? You share a pasta for Pete'sSake (howzat for breaking the ice?!) but nope, something's amiss.

He observed that. I overanalyzed. He told me off.

LOL (or as he would say: Laf)

BPC's getting a LOT of telling off these days. Am I subconciously seeking rebuke these days?

Am I?

Bigger Question: Do I need it?

Monica

noreply@blogger.com (bakpakchik) — Mon, 30 Apr 2007 19:23:00 +0000

Right now, I really really badly want to slap the shit out of someone.

And that someone is me.

I am at the end of my tether and just waiting for the bounceback. Or am I really? Maybe I am just blowing it out of proportion and none of it really is that big a deal. Or MAYBE the big deal is that it isn't such a big deal to me.

I am purposefully being vague because this blog is public and I know that personal thoughts belong in a diary, but I have put so much into this blog already that I want it to be my only source for reflecting back on myself ... so sue me.

It's pretty tough when you open yourself up for criticism and no matter how much you grit your teeth and listen because you genuinely want to work towards eliminating your flaws, some if it can be pretty bad.

When did I become this person that these people are telling me I am? When did I become this person that does these things on auto-pilot? When did I become so involved in changing myself (based on previous feedback) into something else that I totally lost sight of the fact that I had reached the goalpost and FLEW right past it? Stop, BPC, stop, turn around. LOOK AROUND.

I read somewhere today that "Character is what you do when no one is looking".

Really?

If so, then think about what you've been doing when no one's been looking. Surely, they are not things you would do otherwise.

But isn't that the point of 'privacy ... that you can be yourself. Or is no one allowed to be themselves in their own time anymore without being 'guilted' into introspection? IMHO intropsection is over-rated. Why can't we just BE without having to think too deep and too hard about it? Why can't some things just be things that you do ... if they don't harm anyone, then why do you need to be held accountable? Why do you need to hold yourself accountable for what is not changing/hurting/ruining anything for anyone else?

Why is there all this bloody social programming that bloody forces you to THINK so much.

Just shut up. Be quiet. Do. Be. Don't THINK.

I do that sometimes. I 'do and I 'be', but I have yet to master the 'don't think' part.

I know where this is all coming from. I have all the pieces infront of me, but the pieces don't add up. And that's what is frustrating. Growing up in a world of twoplustwoequalsfour, I can see the two twos and I know that's where the four comes from, but it'd bloody doing my head in as to why and how the four came along long before the two twos did.

Maybe it's some weird cosmic joke constructed to confuse me. Maybe I'm just PMSing.

But I see the two twos. And I am Monica. Boy, am I Monica right now. Arfiman will understand this bit precisely if he is reading ... because he is the one who pointed it out. Jokingly maybe, but he was right.

No one can have it all. But we all find our ways to get the bits we really need.

Is this going to make me feel better? Maybe.

Okay, so it's not been futile after all ... this long-winded post ... no, not when I realize that we all find our ways to get the bits we really need. And not when I realize that none of us can ever have it all.

Master Manipulator in the Making

noreply@blogger.com (bakpakchik) — Tue, 24 Apr 2007 19:10:00 +0000

After the uproar caused due to my last post on training, I really should think twice before posting ANOTHER training-related post, but what is BPC if not one to make things a little more exciting?

So here goes ...

I think I pleased someone with authority highly by my revelation in the last training post on how refreshing it is to be in training without having to simultaneously perform routine work-related tasks as well ..

.. and here I am, having completed Day Two of a Three Day Training Program with my laptop having gone kaput and me not even having checked my work email for more than 48 hours. A first!

It was nice for the first day, but by start of Day Two, BPC is in panic mode, fielding phonecalls from people who demand to know the status of tasks scheduled for completion.

About the training itself: loosely structured to introduce us to the core concepts of a) personality types and persuasion skills in light of that, b) Key Performance Indicators: how to collect, interpret, analyze and use them to c) strategise the maximisation (is that even a word?!) and alignment of those KPIs to align the departmental objectives and processes with the organisational ones and finally (whew) d) presentation/persuasion skills to combine all of the above.

As I said, whew.

So it's been a very interesting two days so far and what's more interesting is how the company pays so much money to send people into training and how so many of them can be so non-receptive and negative. I have heard ENOUGH comments from people being too defensive and/or critical about the content or the training, or the possible real-work application.

All the time, I sat there thinking "My God! How on Earth can you not see this to be of use?"

I mean, my head was reeling with ideas and I can't wait to get back to work and WHOOPAH my team and boss into shape ;) LOL

The training introduced us to Shape-type personalities (whereby people are either squares, circles, traiangles or squiggles). No prizes for guessing what I am.

LOL ... yours truly is a very Squiggly BPC with some Circle tendancies.

What's more interesting than analyzing these personality types was looking back at our past experiences of having dealt with them and being able to see what we were doing wrong!

I picked my subject (who turned out to be a very distinct Square) and found out that I was dealing with him in a very Squiggly manner ... so NOT the thing to do! Enter calculated manipulation ... err... I mean Personality-based Persuasion and I now have a very good idea of the approach I need to take the next time I present to this Square Person.

The persuasion aspect of the training itself was very enlightening. The handouts and reading material (25 pages of some VERY HEAVY reading from the Harvard Business Review) had a box on 'Four Things NOT To Do When Persuading Effectively' and turns out that those are the fours things I (and apparently anyone not familiar with the art and science of persuasion) would do. These are things we do instinctively thinking they are the right things to do, but are essentially the most effective way to kill any persuasion efforts with anyone who is not already sold on you or your idea.

Persuasion as a concept itself was something I hadn't given much thought to before this training.

In my current job role, one of my biggest challenges is that I am responsible for strategic input while being in a position not authoritative enough to have my input not be overlooked when a) it challenges the status quo, or b) when a person of higher authority (ie, almost ALL the people I am required to give this input to) has conflicting viewpoints, or c) (surprisingly the biggest challenge of all!) my peers are not on the same page (often due to their own lack of a strategic shot of the Big Picture, but also - as this training revealed - as often enough due to my own inability to convey the merits of an idea in words and ways that will make sense to them).

Hopefully, this training has equipped me with skills to:
a) challenge the status quo without appearing to undermine the current processes
b) persuade the Big Bosses effectively
c) get team buy-in

What I loved about this training was the Business Simulation aspect where we got the chance to apply the day's learning in a real-work type scenario: two very hard-assed HigherUps from the company agreed to donate some time to act as BigBosses and we had to present to them effectively on ideas that they were put in place to tear up. Very very scary. But I must say, kodus to the hard-assed duo ... I now have more confidence in how deal with situations such as these.

I am extremely keen to see what Day Three brings in, and even more keen to go back to work because I am now not only Spokesperson Extrordinairre, but also Master Manipultor ... err ... I mean, Prettygood Persuader!

Good News?

noreply@blogger.com (bakpakchik) — Sat, 21 Apr 2007 19:50:00 +0000

Nothing pisses the fuck out of me quite like the 'good news' question that everyBloodybody is inclined to ask you when you are a married woman.

"So, any good news on your side?"

Fuck that shit, man. I totally lost it today.

A very old friend who I used to go to school with and who got married quite after me and now has a one-year-and-some-months-old son asked the same question on MSN today: So, any good news?

"Yeah", I MSNed back. "Very good news."

"Really?" came back her enthusiastic reply. "How many months?!"

As I said, FUCK THAT SHIT.

"Honey," I told her. "I have no plans for kids anytime soon, and THAT is the good news from my side. No news=good news. No bun in the oven for me and that is the best news I could have for the forseeable future."

She was silent for a while.

"Really?" she said a bit later. "You don't want babies. But why? They're so cute."

And this coming from a woman who told me not five minutes ago that she was so relieved when she got to go back to Pak. for 5 months without her husband due to an ill MIL because the baby was finally off her hands and she no longer had to cook and clean while taking care of this little thing that demanded all her time, energy and attention.

Really.

They are so cute.

And it's such a relief when you have other people to take care of them.

Why have them then?!!!

Why? Why?!!!

So that you can live your life in bits where you have other people to take care of them? So that you need to make the decision of being away from your partner for months on end to regain your sanity?

Bloody hell.

I am quite sure that in some twisted way I am tempting fate by writing all this ... which could mean I either get a baby very very soon (unplanned, of course, if it so turns out) .. or that I don't get one when I really want one sometime in the future, just because I am so dead against having one just now.

I really don't understand what all this societal pressure is all about. Babies are NOT the reason people get married. Or are they?

Am I the one who has the wrong idea ... thinking that two people get married because they love each other and want to spend the rest of their lives together? Is there some unwritten rule no one told me about: must get married and MUST have babies as soon as possible after?

Whatever works for you, is what I say. Then why does whatever work for me have to be such a big problem?

Geez man.

And even the nerve of people asking you howcome you've been married three years and have no kids?! MIND YOUR OWN FUCKING BUSINESS!

Okay, so I don't have kids out of choice. But how do you know that when you ask me that extremely private question? What if I have some medical problem and have been trying desparately to have a baby and can't? How rude and insensitive is your question then?

How many times do you meet a married woman and ask her how many times a week she has sex? To me, asking me why I don't have kids is breaching the same level of privacy: if you don't already know, you're probably not important enough to tell.

ChickenSouping

noreply@blogger.com (bakpakchik) — Thu, 19 Apr 2007 19:01:00 +0000

An interesting post on RantzRavez's blog (http://rantzravez.blogspot.com/2007/04/on-follies-of-living-in-fools-paradise.html) led me to comment and got me thinking.

It took me right back to a long shisha session with a new friend a few evenings ago and reminded me of something we talked about ...

... he asked me what was the one thing I regretted doing the most in my life ...

I though about it really hard and my answer was "Nothing".

Because what is 'regret' for an action if not the wish to reverse it? And I might have done lots of things that didn't seem 'the right thing to do' at that time .. either to me or to the people I did those things to ... but when I look at it in retrospect ... would I do any of it differently?

No.

Because what I 'did' .. and what we all 'do' .. is what we 'are' ... dictates what we 'become'.

And anyone truly happy with the way they are know that they are the way they are because of the things they did ... that going back and changing any of it will change what they are today.

And that leads me to the observation of how refreshing it is to meet new people and make new relationships ... you end up talking about things you can never imagine talking about with friends who you have been with for years ... old friends are good for comfort, but new ones are great for ChickenSoup.

This friend is somebody I met on a training course and he is a Really Nice Guy (the kind that is just not possible to run into these days). To think it all started with a compliment on nice shoes (from him to me obviously). And as nice as it is to get attention from a person of the opposite sex, we both flashed our wedding rings at each other and sighed in mutual relief that neither of us need worry about 'complications'.

Ended up having a veeeeeeeeery long shisha session the same evening with lots of ChickenSouping. We each tried to get our spouses to join us. Mine wasn't able to make it, but his did and what a woman!

Am still trying to get Arfiman to join so all four of us can be partners in crime and so that Arfiman won't start wondering who this Really Nice Guy is that I end up having shisha with.

Protocols aside, there is nothing like intellectualising with someone new.

The long conversations on the purpose and meaning of life, of love and everything else under the sun is something I was missing for so long. (And can you not see it reflected in the nature of my recent blog posts?!)

Let's face it ... we all need some ChickenSouping sooner or later. Okay, maybe it's just me but that just means that ChickenSouping is really, REALLY under-rated.

I have not had that for a while and I am TOTALLY enjoying it.

And it sure doesn't hurt that he insists I have the most beautiful eyes he has ever seen! LOL!!

Arfiman, that's it! You need to meet this guy now!

ScarboroughBoy and I

noreply@blogger.com (bakpakchik) — Tue, 17 Apr 2007 18:03:00 +0000

Pandora's box: don't open something you can't close. Don't let loose what you can't contain.

Life. What is it without death? Or love without loss?

It's not what other people do to you that makes you lose faith ... it's what you do to other people. When you get away with doing things you had no right doing, it makes you wonder what kinds of secrets other people are carrying around inside them. Can you really trust anyone?

Can you really trust yourself?

What is trust? What is good and what is bad?

What are all these things aside from what you have grown being told they are? Who decides what's good for you? Rules made by people who you don't know? And who don't know you? Who don't know what goes on in your life ... in your head ... or where it matters most of all: in your heart?

Are you going to live your life 'playing it safe' ... in your 'comfort zone'?

Or will you ever dare to follow your heart - forgetting about what 'they' say is right or wrong or good or bad?

Is anything ever any of those on it's own and are they only bullshitting when they say 'the end justifies the means'?

No one cares to know why you do the things you do ... because they can only see what they can see ... they can see the laughing and the joking, the flash car, the perfect nails.

Can anyone see anything else?

Can anyone see .. as Paolo Coelho puts it in 'The Zahir' ... "the empty space inside" for which we are forever (qoute Coelho again) "trying to remain upright and decent , in order to do honour not to the walls or the doors or the windows, but to the empty space inside, the space where we worship and venrate what is dearest and most important to us."

"Yes, we are all cathedrals."

And cathedrals we are.

Vast places of worship.

But what are we without the worshippers?

We can't all be the Notre Dam ... or the Sacre Cour.

We can't all .. or always .. swell with the solemn, sweet sounds of hymn .. a thousand reverent choruses.

We can't all fulfil our destinies. Some of us can sometimes. Some ... never.

How many of us are like backstreet cathedral we stumbled upon one late night in Istanbul ... that boy from Scarborough, Canada and I? That cathedral with no lights on ... and chains on the doors?

ScarboroughBoy and I ... we tried to make the cathedral come alive. We tried. But there were chains. And no lights. And severe consequences should a Canadian backpacker be caught tresspassing with a Pakistani one so late at night. So we turned back.

We turned to Taksim Square ... with its merry lights and its jaunty clubs ... to Istiklal Street and to places filled with cheer and cigaretter smoke. Places alive with the sound of music and the heat of bodies moving close to each other.

Places easier to understand. Easier to be a part of.

How many of us are like that backstreet cathedral? With our lights switched off and our gates in chains? How many would-be worshippers turn back when they see the darkness that envelopes us? The doors we haven't thrown open?

How many would-be worshippers do we send off to places easier to understand? Easier to be a part of?

And how much of it can we blame them for? How much of the blame lies with us?

I dedicate this post to ScarboroughBoy ... someone I haven't thought of in a very, very long time. Four years maybe. Four years since that late night of revelations and contemplation. Four years since I tasted my first snow. I still wear the MissSixty-copy paira jeans he helped me pick from the piles and piles in that street market. Four years!

Thankyou ScarboroughBoy for a really funky hard-wearing paira pants.

And for being the inspiration behind a really therepeutic post.

I hate the real world

noreply@blogger.com (bakpakchik) — Mon, 16 Apr 2007 12:06:00 +0000

BPC: Girl, sometimes there so many conflicting ideas and emotions in your head that the more I think, the more I end up confused. Your head is a very scary place to live in.
Collapse: *grr*
BPC: Right, first things first. The damage done isn’t going to go away. You won’t be able to talk your way out of this one. What you need to do, hard as it is – is to let it go. Take it like it is, because maybe this is who you are.
Collapse: People deserve so much more but once you've done what you've done, you've pretty much screwed it over.
BPC: Life can’t be viewed in black and white.
Collapse: If you love something, does loving it less turn you into a bad person? There has to be a difference between being a bad person and being a normal person doing a bad thing.
BPC: Don’t make a bigger deal of it than it needs to be. You need to fix whatever it is that makes you believe you need 'this' to feel complete. Figure out your life, grow some opinions on things other 'this' . There’s more to living than 'this'.
Collapse: What the hell is 'this' anyway?
BPC: What does it mean to you? 'This' isn’t a word you should use cheaply. Have you thought that maybe the reason you get bored is because you’re just not ready ?
Collapse: That’s not unusual
BPC: Say someone offers you chocolate cake. It looks really good – all shiny and chocolaty and tempting, but if you eat it, something bad will happen.
Collapse: That’s when you let your head do the thinking.
BPC: Are you prepared for the consequences? If your asnwer is ‘no', walk away.
Collapse: *grr*
BPC: What – you think you’re the only girl out there facing this? You’re not six anymore, stand by your beliefs. Being an adult is about making choices and living with the end result, be it good or bad. You made the choice ... it was conscious, believe me. THIS doesn’t happen by accident. Therefore, I don’t buy this whole ‘woe is me’ attitude. You made your bed and you must lie on it. It doesn’t mean you’re doomed to be unhappy for life.
Collapse: What’s with all the negativity?
BPC: The good news is that you know you’ve been making the choice to do 'this' all along, you can decide to stop. It really is as easy as all that. People complicate things too much sometimes.
Collapse: Emotions are confusing
BPC: Yes, but 'this' is not. Drill this into your head – there’s no excuse for 'this'. Be enough of a woman to stand up and own your mistakes. Embrace them and make them your own...then make the conscious decision to change.
Collapse: It will be bloody hard and far too easy to escape into old habits, can I really do it?
BPC: You’re not the first woman in the universe to encounter this problem. This is how you learn to become an adult. Welcome to the real world.
Collapse: I hate the real world.
BPC: Honey, it's the only world I know of. If you find a better one, let me know ....

Bitch

noreply@blogger.com (bakpakchik) — Tue, 10 Apr 2007 17:28:00 +0000

I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and I see a bit of you ... in the flick of hair, in the highlights, the color. The way it curls out at the ends.

I catch myself when I say 'bye' on the phone ... I hear your voice in mine ... in some ways ... your thoughts too.

Dark manicures in the winter. Burgundy or Wine. French in the summer.

"My mother told me off for not coloring my hair for such a long time. She says it makes me look older."

The shoes.

The black shirt from Splash. Too bad they didn't have it in white. Five years later, it still looks good.

The yellow pashmina.

The cigarette smoke.

I thought I hated you. I did hate you. Now I know why. I hated you because I wanted to be just like you.

And in many ways, I now am.

You wouldn't know it if you saw me. Hell, you wouldn't even know it was you I am talking about if you read this.

But I really am you.

I wish I could tell you this, because I think we could be great friends, but I met you a few months ago and I still thought you were a Total Bitch.

So no changes there.

I still hate you.

I don't think I'll ever stop.

Because everytime I turn around, you do something so wonderful that I hate you because I want to be just like you ... and then I catch up a little while later.

The problem is, everytime I become you, you seem to have moved on. Will I ever stop hating you?

I don't think I will.

And I like it that way.

Bitch.

Crazy days at Crazy Headquarters

noreply@blogger.com (bakpakchik) — Tue, 10 Apr 2007 09:08:00 +0000

Crazy Act#1:

Ate: Does anyone have a memory stick?
Kaju: Mmm ... I have a stick but it doesn't have any memory ...
BPC: And I have a memory, but it's doesn't come on a stick ...
Kaju: Maybe you can put my stick and BPC's memory together ...

LOL

Crazy Act#2:
BPC and Fati return from lunch break. Kaju is found wiping his eyes with a tissue paper.

Fati: Why are you crying?
BPC: Are you crying because we left you all alone?
Kaju: (after a very long pause): I'm crying becasue you came back so soon.

LOOL

Crazy Act#3:

LOOOOOOL it was so funny I actually forgot what it was!

Yep, that's Jo

noreply@blogger.com (bakpakchik) — Mon, 09 Apr 2007 15:02:00 +0000

Till I Collapse says: is the red coupe ur car?
BPC says: yes
Till I Collapse says: figures
BPC says: whaddya mean?
Till I Collapse says: fits you
Till I Collapse says: how you talk
BPC says: i talk like a red coupe? LOL! i shall take that as a compliment
Till I Collapse says: small chick, with a wild side, that knows her ride
Till I Collapse says: i walked by it
Till I Collapse says: and i was like
Till I Collapse says: yep, thats Jo

*smile*

yeh baat adhoori rehnay do ...

noreply@blogger.com (bakpakchik) — Sat, 07 Apr 2007 20:05:00 +0000

mat poocho dil main kya rakha hai
mat poocho honton peh kya tehra hai
mat poocho ankhon ki boli ko
mat poocho
mat poocho
rehney do

sab kuch keh dainey say
har ankahi sun lainey say
aksar aisa bhi hota hai
jo ho zeyr-e-lab khul jaat hai
jo dil main ho mil jaata hai

dil ki kuch baatein lekin
honton tak na aaeyn to acha hai

kal subha honay tak
yeh shaam adhoori rehney do
yeh baat adhoori rehney do

kaun jaaney ...

kab kuch kehnay, sunnay say
koi dil ki hasrat poori ho jaey
jo hum main tum main uljhan hai
woh kaheen kho jaey

yeh uljhan humko pyari hai
dil main yeh baat hamari hai

kuch batein dil ki dil main rehney do

kal subha honay tak
yeh shaam adhoori rehney do
yeh baat adhoori rehney do

BPC the spokeswoman?

noreply@blogger.com (bakpakchik) — Thu, 05 Apr 2007 19:53:00 +0000

And so ends another week at work. Honestly, I don't know where time flies these days. It's been a very exciting few weeks at work with lots of projects (and hence lots of pressure) with the added reason to finish all work soon in light of upcoming holiday (BPC and Arfiman to possibly go to HK mid-April).

Don't know where the last five days went. All I know is that LOTS of work remain undone with about five more working days to do it in. Yum. Don't know how I would function if I wasn't under pressure.

And let me just add at this point that I can't help feeling thankful every single day for Alhamdolillah being in a job that excites me every single day.

This week I had the luxury of being in training for two WHOLE days ... with my laptop not working with the WiFi at hand! I call it a luxury because - theoretically speaking - once you go on a training, you set up an 'Out of office' reply on your Outlook so all the five million people emailing you know that you are out and will not expect you to respong to their email in 2.5 seconds - but in actuality, you have to take your laptop to the training session and steal five or ten minutes here and there to check your emails and keep up. It gets a bit tiresome and does not allow you to be as focussed on the training as you would like to be.

And that's why my laptop not working with the training venue's WiFi gave me the rare opportunity to enjoy two full days of training without any other pressures.

I just had an awesome awesome two days.

The training was on Media and Crisis Management for potential spokespeople within Crazy Headquarters and let me blow my own trumpet here a bit - I was quite flattered that BossLady would nominate BPC as a potential spokesperson for Crazy Headquarters. So there li'l ole BPC sat in the training surrounded by Directors and felt glad that someone sees some potential in her. LOL. Fact ot be pointed out: BPC was the only female amongst the six trainees. Hm.

Now, it is not a commonly known fact yet a very true one that BPC is terrified of video cameras. Still cameras I can do. I love posing for pictures. But turn on a video camera and watch me put my foot in my mouth ... if i don't burst into tears first!

It was very very difficult to go through the first video interview. That dang camera looking right at me! Yikes! But kudos to the trainer ... he was A M A Z I N G.

In two days flat, I have NO fear of the camera anymore. Not only do I no longer put my foot in my mouth and say everything a spokesperson should NOT say, but I have been told by the training company that they think I might be an ideal spokesperson as I have 'a very camera-friendly persona' and that they would be recommending me to BossLady as such. Yay!

Okay, trumpet-blowing aside, I was amazed at the insight I got into the tricky world of spokesmanship. How sly these slimy buggers are! We learned techniques on how to avoid any qustuons we didn't answer and how to go into interviews knowing what you want to say and say EXACTLY WHAT YOU WANT TO SAY REGARDLESS OF THE QUESTIONS BEING ASKED. It was totally awesome.

Crisis-Filled Day

noreply@blogger.com (bakpakchik) — Thu, 29 Mar 2007 11:22:00 +0000

BPC has a crisis-filled day at work:

1. Deadline for reworking 45-page MAJOR report was yesterday. Boss Lady agreed to move it to today 2 pm in light of the report being too shabbily written by original writers. It is now 3:40. Status of report? Waaaaaay from being done. BPC is not leaving the office anytime today.

2. Close relative of BigBigBig Boss passes away and BPC must write official condolence letter. We all know she is total crap at stuff like this.

3. Boss Lady is put in compromising situation due to BPC's lack of leadership skills. :(

4. BPC takes tough call on people who expect you to review and approvean 8-page document in seven minutes .... something you wouldn't be able to do even if you had NO work, let alone the mountains that you have in the Real World. Due to which:

5. BPC is forced to write a stinker to several people reminding them of company policies and that "working in a structured manner ensures that all parties are able to perform within designated deadlines, up to the desired quality level and with the least possible undue stress". (On which Boss Lady congratulates BPC. Yay!)

6. Media crisis! Sneaky reporter gets hold of Crazy headquarters' Sales Manager at networking event and twists casual chat into an unflattering 'scoop'. Bloody reporeters.

7. BPC hasn't had a single minute to google or souq since the start of the workday and only now at 3:47 is she taking out a few minutes to blog and bitch and have a bite of Kushary courtesy one of the local gals at Crazy Headquarters.

8. BPC totally overlooked a notice informing People of water outage and now People might be standing in the loos washing their hands with air. Not if BPC acts NOW!

*whew*

And that is just the kind of day BPC loves. The kind where you come in the office and the day is like a whirlwind and before you know it, it's 4:30 and you wonder where the day hasgone. better yet, BPC loves it when it's a whirlwind of a week and it seems it was the weekend just yesterday AND TODAY'S A WEEKEND AGAIN!

YAAAAAAY!!!!

Fatwa to Fuck with your Head

noreply@blogger.com (bakpakchik) — Sat, 24 Mar 2007 19:17:00 +0000

Taken from http://islam.tc/ask-imam/:

Q.I belong to a fairly moderate income group. Recently my eldest daughter attained the age of puberty. This development has placed me in agreat predicament. I was quite affected recently by a lecture I heard on the sins of intermingling of sexes. My daughter attends a public school whereshe is obviously involved in this. While it might appear to be easy to justremove her from school, I have to also consider her future. She definitelyrequires a career in order to make her financially self-sufficient in thesetimes of great economic strife. What should I do under these circumstances?

A.Almighty Allah Taála says in the Holy Qurãn 'And (women) stay in your homes and don't display yourselves like the practice of the first Jaahiliyya (pre-Islamic era)'. (Qurãn 33:33)
Rasulullah (Sallallaahu Alayhi Wasallam) said, 'A woman is an object of concealment. When she comes out; the Shaitaan accompanies her'. (Mishkãt)

The above quotations clearly indicate that the place of a woman is at home.When she emerges out of the house, she becomes the tool of the Shaitaan to spread mischief and corruption. In these modern times, there is a worldwide campaign on recognition of women's rights, according to the democratic ideology which includes equality between men and women in earning, rank and position. Such a position for women in society breathes corruption andmischief. And the ghastly consequences such a position has already caused are clear as day-light for all those of true intelligence.

The harms of giving your daughter 'secular education' under the existing conditions is greater than the benefits. It is not permissible to risk the honour of your daughter at the expense of securing her economic future.Looking at the dangers and harms in schools, even the greatest worldly need cannot justify the reason for sending your daughter to school.

The sustenance of every individual is the responsibility of Allãh: 'There is not a single creature on earth except that Allãh Taála has taken the responsibility of its sustenance'. (Qurãn 11:6)

*ends*

OHHH MYYYYY GAAAWWWWWWDDDD!!!!!!!! (...excuse me... I just spat out blood and bile and I must go clean it up....)

Okay, I'm back.

OHHHHHH MYYYYYYYY GGAAAAAAAAAAAAAWWWD! (....excuse me again...)

This just helped me burn quite a good amount of my blood. Its helpful after eating a whole lot of fried chicken and fries you see. Keep these fatwas coming and I shall never have to exercise again.

Where the fuck do fucktards like this find the authority to lead other fucktards into the Dark Ages?

I think I just died from an intense state of rage.

(credit: 'Fun with Weird Fatwas' community on Orkut)

Karaoke Nights

noreply@blogger.com (bakpakchik) — Sun, 18 Mar 2007 10:08:00 +0000