Happy Birthday, Ellen Degeneres!

ABC's Portraits Of The 86th Annual Academy Awards Host Ellen DeGeneres

 

I often wonder : If I love women a little more than I love men, what does that make me? Gay straight or straight gay? No, this is not a post about me being confused about my sexual orientation, because that would mean apocalypse in a Tamil household. This is about the woman who makes me overwhelmingly happy and inspired. There are a few women who fit the bill, though there is one who tops the list: Ellen Degeneres.

When I googled for an image of her, I can’t choose the best picture. She looks fucking beautiful in every shot. Perhaps it’s the sparkle in her eyes that smiles along with her lips. She is the epitome of someone who smiles from her heart.

Though I started watching her some years back randomly through YouTube video-hopping, not until last year I realized how important she could be to people who are coping with crisis. I’ve watched tonnes of people speak how she made them laugh and overcome the pain they were going through – no joke at all.

Cancer, degenerative disorders, palliative care, depression, anxiety disorders, disability, death, divorce, poverty, pain, coming out – all these needs that one most important tool to cope : willpower to fight. She magically gives that. She gives that extra push that makes you believe there are things to fight for. That there is light at the end of the tunnel which is really really worth it.

Inspiring people is the least you could to anyone yet given at the right time, you’re doing wonders to change their life. When a person is feeling the lowest, reached the bottom of their life, thinking of how to end it – all they look for is a glimmer of light. Ellen was the light that helped me through my tunnel of darkness. When I was looking for a distraction, she was there. When I wanted to have something to look forward to in a day full of chaotic mind, she was there. When I was ready to cry for myself, she showed me it helps much more to cry for others. And when you are kind to one another, your pain disappears. If I get to meet her in person, I’d be one of those people who sob and sob and sob. And she’d be there hugging me like she knows me forever.

I believe in thoughts and mind power. I believe if I sync my whole thought process for a moment and channel it to the universe, the force reflects back to the one I am intending to.

So Ellen, on your birthday: I’m channeling all my energy to wish you a blessed birthday with prolonged healthy life and keep doing what makes you you. Keep being happy, keep being inspiring, keep getting into bucket lists and keep being Ellen. You could be sitting on  the same couch everyday but you are present whenever people need that glimmer of light. People see happiness in the monologues, the missed scripts, the spontaneous outbursts of laughs, sincere tears in your eyes, the awards you win, the winning speech that you make people proud to be your fan, the money you help others with, the moments you speak about Portia with sparkles in your eyes, the times you mention your back is getting better, your dance and most importantly You. Happy joyous Birthday! 

 

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Grey’s Anatomy obsession.

By now I have declared to the world how much I’m obsessed with Grey’s Anatomy. I also have successfully introduced the series to a number of people in my life with the pretext : ” If you want more common grounds between us, you gotta catch my Grey’s references.” I too, shamelessly ignored texts with a reason as meek as “I’m watching Grey’s. My world has stopped.”

I am basically an emotional freak who cried for Cars when McQueen had to leave the town. But I have not cried for reality as much as I did for fictional characters of Grey’s. Oh, I did cry buckets for Sirius Black and Dobby and Fred Wesley but that is my past life.

Before I proceed, this post has SPOILER!!!  everywhere. From season 1 to the latest episode 19 of Season 10. So fans, please please please don’t read further and curse me. I can’t live with more bad karma. Also I’d hate myself if I spoil it for another fan.

My latest favorite constructive thing to do with my free time has been viewing quotes and edits on Instagram. It’s amazing how people take time to make those edits. And it’s even more amazing to relive the moments when you read them. Why is Grey’s so relatable to many of us? I believe Shonda is genius because she made characters which blend in us. I could find most characters somehow resemble some part of me.

Meredith is my favorite. Mainly because I am  that self-centered that I need the story to be revolving around me. Another example is Harry Potter as my favorite in the whole universe of Harry Potter. Also I really could relate to her in those earlier seasons. Until she became mother and distanced herself from who she used to be. Her mother issues are sometimes larger than life because she made it to be. She says she doesn’t want to be her mom yet somehow strives to be exactly like her. She says her days of trying to please her mom are behind her yet all she does is to get her approval in some twisted way. She has her own logic to everything, which usually doesn’t make sense and always involve tequila and overthinking. She is emotional but fights so hard not to be seen as a weakling. She lives in her own bubble not wanting to break it and let others in, but seeking for true love nevertheless. More than anything her attachment issues attracted me the most, which says a lot about my own personality disorder. So yes she’s much relatable. Or used to be.

As expected, Cristina is my second favorite. Though I admit she wasn’t that palatable in those earlier episodes. Not until she bonded with Mer. She is the perfect example of a strong willed woman who knows what she wants, who is aware her needs are beyond the usual horizon, yet works hard for it. She is determined and stands by her conviction no matter how messed up situations get. For example the whole Burke injured his hand crap. She makes worst decisions when it comes to love and relationships. I hated her with Burke. Mainly because she settled for him. She compromised who she was because she was vulnerable. Then she snapped out of it. She knows she’s a damsel in distress. I was out of the world when Owen carried her into the hospital following the icicle incident. She’s a Cinderella who refuses to admit she’s one. She doesn’t get involved easily but when she does she stands by it. She doesn’t leave because her partner has PTSD, she doesn’t walk away when her best friend moved on her life in another path, she doesn’t let anything stand between her and her dreams. She is Cristina Yang. I want to be her.

Will the world judge me if I say I am Mark Sloan in some way? Not the steamy one perhaps. Nor the  manwhore bit (?!). But all the other endearing parts of his.  He was self conscious. He was comparing himself to his best friend. He never felt he was a good enough man so he masked it with his Casanova alter ego. He was so afraid of love so he chose to turn his back. Until it hit him right on the face, in the form of Lexie. His sense of humor is out of the world. People can’t dislike him for too long. He definitely deserved better than what happened to him. Thus I only cry for a few minutes each time Mark Sloan or Lexie Grey is mentioned.

I could relate to many other characters too. Like the chirpy bright Arizona, dancing in underwear Callie, trauma stricken Owen etc. Except for one.

Derek Shepherd.

Because well it’s Derek who is all dreamy and surreal. He’s the knight in shining armour, all responsible and convicted, stays by rules, supportive no matter what, starts every surgery saying ‘It’s a beautiful day to save lives’, and has the perfect hair ever. He’s perfect.

I want my Derek Shepherd served on a plate please. Handcuffed to the posts of my bed.

Thankyouverymuch.

Happy Birthday You.

image

For the late nights.
For the super duper early mornings.
For the ridiculous crap texts.
For the random hearts.
For the persistence and perseverance.
For supporting and always being there.
For annoying the crap out of me.
For giving me spontaneous smiles.
For the inspiration to write.
For the rhythm to dance.
For the eyes that never get tired of watching.
For the magic that never faded.

Happy Birthday J.

You are the best randomity that striked me so
far. 

Facebook Turn-offs.

I am openly declaring my addiction to Facebook, ever since I got my account back in 2008. FB is equivalent to the Internet to me. Like I can use both the terms interchangeably. Facebook-Online. Online-Facebook. My stalking skills are so remarkable that I’d be able to figure out relationship status based on profile picture album. I could waste 2127382872 hours lurking in completely useless facebook pages, pressing NEXT NEXT NEXT.

No, I’m not proud. At the same time, I’m not ashamed either. At least I got infected by facebook virus instead of herpes or gonorrhea. Amma Appa, be proud of your child.

Since I face Facebook more than I have ever faced any of my ex boyfriends, yes I get extremely annoyed when my quality time is being intruded by some turn offs. And anyway I’ve also self-diagnosed myself with OCD, so I like making lists.

1. Bloody POKE button.

It annoys me so much that I don’t know why, myself when someone random pokes me. I feel that’s the rudest thing one could do to another human being. You don’t know me, you get deceived by my pictures and find me attractive, so you thought why not I poke her for attention. WRONG. That’s like telling me I want to be in your pants,but you’re not worth a conversation. And it’s creepy when you keep getting pokes from the same person after you delete the notification, every day. If you want attention, effing inbox the person. No matter how bad your grammar is. Kidding!

2. Bad BAd BAD grammar. 

I know we’re not all Shakespeares and Jane Austens, so we don’t need to swallow the dictionary and start burping out bombastic words. But I believe all of us went to school and had English as our secondthirdfourth language. For holy Christ sake, know the difference between your and you’re. That’s the least you could do to prolong humanity in this era. Why would you put yourself under the hassle of turning on the computer, paying for the Internet, spend time creating and making your account alive if you also can be stupid by just your mere existence?

3. Delete and block. 

You believe it or not, you like or not; etiquette is everywhere. Facebook has a rule of conduct as well. I don’t care if there isn’t. From this moment, there is.

When you add someone and they approve your request, you have virtually shook hands with the person. Just like how you do it in parties. When you start up a conversation, you have initiated a virtual friendship. The least you could before you deleting your virtual friend, is by informing them.

Don’t just wake up one morning, break up with your girlfriend and decide to delete her close circle. They didn’t ask you to add them in the first place. Or maybe they did add you themselves, because you were respected as your girlfriend’s boyfriend.

What do you do when you’re given respect by someone? Yes, you return them. Bingo!

In a word, I’d call you an asshole if you delete one of my friends and not the others. Why the privilege and honor? If you think you don’t like my friends, trust me; they don’t like seeing you in their newsfeed as well. Amen.

4. Profile name. 

If Princess Fiona had Facebook account, she wouldn’t have called herself PWiNCeSs FiONa. And Jasmine wouldn’t have called herself Da Sexylicious. If you were not born with a Sweetie as your last name, you seem stupid when you use it. Blabla Sweetie has sent you a friend request. 

My face goes wheeeerrt?!! 

5. Profile pictures. 

Don’t even get me started on this. I have a feeling it’s a desi thing, because I don’t see any other people having celebrity pictures as their display. If you aren’t having that hot body of Deepika Padukone, don’t effing have her as your display picture.

BURN!

As easy as that. I get friend request from some stranger who seems to have some mutual friends and last name Sweetie and bam! profile picture album filled with Genelias and Hansikas. How am I supposed to recognize you?

If your parents don’t allow you to place your own picture in Facebook, you’re probably too young for this shit and please please please get back to your non-existent real life. 

6. Uncrowned Drama Queen. 

Check your head. Is there a tiara?

Noh!

Your imaginations are invalid.

I know I know. I may have done this too. It’s so tempting to put up a status filled with your daily happenings. Like you’re Malaysiakini and the nation is feeding on your news. But no. My newsfeed bleeds when you keep going on and on about how noble you are for rescuing a dog in the rain, holding up an umbrella and feeding him milk, mixed all by yourself. Yeah yeah, I applause your actions but don’t go overboard and expect the world to hail you.

Stop blowing your own effing trumpet. 

In fact I have some really noble people in my friends list who do real jobs of service and making the world a better place to live in. You are a disgrace to people like that. And sometimes I’m related to these people. I just want to die. 

I know this post has been rant rant rant all over. Well it was intended to be so. If you’re reading this, and you figured you turned me off during my intimate time with Facebook; Shut your face! 

And since you’re entitled to your own opinion, you can say Shut your face, yourself! Hide me from your newsfeed! Blablala. Sometimes you need amusement, on others’ expense. So I plead guilty.

Walk with me - as long as the beach goes.

Walk with me – as long as the beach goes.

 

On another note. I wish you Congratulations on your MBBS intake, on that beautiful island of Malta. May the sun do you extra goodness and tan you a little more. May the course never dull your excitement of life. May we watch the Mediterranean Sea sunset together, one day.  

Wedding bells – freaking everywhere.

quarter life crisis

I have like onetwothreefour months to go before I turn 25, but life really doesn’t give a damn. So I’m officially meddling my quarter life crisis. Early of this year, when I was struggling in an on and off relationship and confused of what really want from life, my high school best friend texted me saying, “Rat, I got engaged!”

And I got a cardiac arrest. Needed a week to recover. No joke. The best friend you walked around the school, hand-in-hand. The one you had sleepovers with, bitching about the entire universe.  The one who listened to your first love rantings. The one who helped to plan your dream wedding. 

One week ago, when I have finally moved on from my break up and being jobless at home, my another best friend texted me saying, ‘Rats, you have to fly to India, I’m getting engaged in few days!” 

When I mean jobless, I mean I have only 2 bucks in my purse, no more allowance AND my network being barred. Thank you. 

Don’t get me wrong. I am not against marriage neither singlehood. In fact I love being all single and ready to mingle again. I enjoy flirting with no strings attached. What bothers me is I have no clue how people decide to settle down, at such young age, with such short notice. Am I the only over-dramatic individual who gets worked up about commitment issues and sharing the same bathroom with another person, who happens to share the same bed with you? 

People I know take a huge risk of leaving their old life back and fly to a whole new country with all this optimistic views. Whereas I make wishes each time the clock turns 11:11. And boy, do the wishes come true?

No.

Why?

Because by the time I think of a wish, the minute passes by. 

Dare to Dream.

When I was about 14 years old, I got hold of this book Dare To Dream by some writer. No, nothing to do with One Direction. Though I’m pretty sure I’ll get a little more readers visiting my page because of this. *victorious grin*

The book didn’t inspire me any further than I could be at that age. I think I would have chucked it further and get back to Harry Potter in no time. I hated self help books even then. But the phrase got caught in the web of my teenage brilliance. Dare to Dream – rebellious and ambitious. Two adjectives that shape up pretty much my entire life so far.

(Un)fortunately my dreams are slightly more expensive than the gown Cinderella wore for the ball and (un)fortunately I don’t have a fairy godmother to wave her wand and abracadabra them come true. I’ll have to wave my own wand and work my way up.

There is no shortcuts to achieve your dreams. You have to work your ass off, save each penny and enjoy the journey. I don’t have mountains to climb and conquer. I only have oceans to swim across. So I shall throw away my fears of drowning and learn swimming – with a float.

When I have reached one day, I shall be satisfied and start a new dream.

Life IS about living, after all.