Saturday, November 21, 2020

Standard of Beauty for Our Dog

My husband and I clearly have a different viewpoint on the standard of beauty for our fur baby, aka Waffles. Specifically, we disagree on how we should shape her beard and how long it should be. This is an argument we had just last week. 

Me        : I think we should cut Waffles’s beard shorter. She keeps munching on her own beard. Gross!
Hubs    : No. Do not even try. (He gave me a cold stare) 
Me        : Why not? She will look prettier with a shorter beard! She looks like an old man now!
Hubs    : Well, she is a Schnauzer. She will look prettier with a long beard! The beard stays. 
Me        : Why you want her to look ugly?? She is my daughter, and I want her to look pretty!
Hubs    : She is my daughter too! Why can't you accept her the way she is?? 
Me        : Errr….(I went quiet. I was getting confused with how this conversation turned)

I swear to God, my husband will let Waffles’ beard grow so long that she can sweep the floor with it. Also, I am afraid that my husband will make her look like a AKC show dog:


And for some reason, it reminds me of my husband 😄




Last Time I Cried From Happiness

During a recent Toastmaster meeting, I received a "table topic" question about the last time I cried because from happiness. It was a difficult question for me to answer because although I do cry a lot, it is usually because of sad movies or puppy videos on YouTube. I rarely cry because of happiness. So when I got this question at the meeting, I gave the most generic answer, "I cried on my wedding day". However, the full story is more than that. I remember on my wedding day my mother kept telling me, “Don't cry...you will ruin your makeup if you cry!” And of course I agreed with her! I did not want to cry and smear my mascara all over my face! On top of that, I was so exhausted on my wedding day that I just wanted the day to be over. There was no room for tears on my agenda. 

However, my mom changed her mind and decided to cry at the ceremony anyway. And what happened next? I cried too! How could I not? Then my dad, playing the hero, tried to save the day by bringing me a handkerchief, but instead of dabbing my eyes gently, his hand moved too fast and sort of punched me in the eye. I could feel my false eye lashes move and it felt weird. It was like about to fall off! 

In the end, my makeup was ruined, but not because I cried. It was because my father punched me in the face with a handkerchief.

That is basically my speech for last week's Toastmaster meeting. I won the award for best table topic, and that it all that matters.

Friday, March 20, 2020

Small thing that make me happy even during this grim time

and it is this Black Schnauzer key rack dog leash hanger. There is some reason why this such non-essential product can make my life suddenly so much brighter

First, the shape and color of this hanger reminds me of my own pup, Waffles, because she is also a black Miniature Schnauzer. Second, it got 5 hooks, I mean look at that, it does not only have 1 or 2 hooks, oh no, it has 5 freaking hooks! How awesome! Lastly, I can put all the dirty stinky dog leash there instead of on my dining table together with all the food that we eat when we sit around it.



Anyway, sigh, my life is so content and I eat too much Haribo.

Thursday, March 19, 2020

Working from home

Greetings. So how are you coping with working from home? For me it was weird. On one hand, I am glad because I can sleep more in the morning since I don't have to commute to work, but on the other hand, I miss my office. Seriously. Just because it is a new job  and I just start to get a hang of it.

Regardless,  I won't take this moment for granted. I mean, I remember there were times in my life when I was so reluctant to go to the office to work, and wish I could just stay from home and working from my bed, without need to bother brushing my teeth or comb my hair.  And now, although I know that the  opportunity to work from home is only temporary, I will for sure make the best of it, meaning work in my pajamas and drive my husband crazy! YES!


Tuesday, February 18, 2020

Confession of A Daughter of A Hoarder

Let me start by saying that I love my mom very much. However, she is *such* a hoarder.

There, I said it. This is not even a family scandal that needs to be kept private. It is only about me sharing my story of a daughter raised by a proud, hoarder mother.

And what I said about my mother is not an exaggeration. If I asked her about it right now, I’d bet she would admit that my statement is completely true.

So how did I recognize this unique trait about her? From her decades old collection of the ugliest earrings and other accessories that she refuses to throw away, to the dozens of bottles of expired beauty products (oils and lotions) that she keeps in her vanity, I’ve recognized the symptoms for as long as I can remember. The item that I *love* to use to prove my point about her hoarding issue is the “vintage," 20+ year old microwave that she has never used in our kitchen. She treats it as a home decoration rather than a kitchen appliance.

Why?!?

Don’t let me get started about her clothes. The contents of my mom’s closet should be artifacts in a museum. She not only has a massive collection of clothing, she has kept some items over 35 years; they are older than any of her children! It would be a miracle if she wore any of them just once a year.

All of her clothes are beginning to spread like the plague, slowly consuming my parents’ bedroom with piles of clothing. Most rooms have only four corners, but my mother’s must have at least eight since that is the number of piles I found last time I visited. I’m sure it will soon grow another corner.

I have expressed my frustrations about her excessive habits, and God only knows how often I have argued with my mother. Every time my efforts are as useless as honking at an 80 year old grandmother driving in the fast lane. Confronting her is futile. Once, I suggested that she burn all her junk but she cried, “What’s the matter with you?” Hello? This is a question for her, not me.

All this time her habits have affected me, and not in a good way. It’s one of the reasons I rarely visited my parents once I got my first job in Jakarta. I talk to her on the phone daily, so it’s not like our mother-daughter relationship isn’t emotionally strong. However, I always find an excuse not to come home on weekends or even holidays, even though they don’t live far from me. If I stay in my parents’ home for more than three days, I become anxious. It’s discomforting to see my mother’s crap crammed everywhere. There is always something around to kick, and I’m not talking about a ball.

To make a long story short, I hope that my mother’s hoarding issue isn’t hereditary. My mom will always be my ultimate role model and I would live to have all her other traits and talents, but It is clear to me now that my mother’s lifestyle of excess has no appeal for me. I don’t feel the same happiness and excitement as she does about a monstrous collection of what appears to be children’s earrings (in my opinion) or heaps of colorful clothes that look like curtains.

Throughout my adult life, I’ve known that I would not follow my mother’s path. However, it was not until three years ago that I made a conscious effort to begin downsizing my belongings, particularly my clothes, so I won’t become a hoarder like my mother. This decision was precipitated by a sudden move to the Netherlands to continue my education. Not only am I grateful for the opportunity to learn and explore new cultures, this decision also required me to rid myself of belongings that I no longer needed, particularly my clothes.

Speaking of that, aren’t we lucky to live in a time when we have massive fashion trends that can easily fuel the urge to purchase more clothing? Life is surely grand for a hoarder in this day and age. Thank God my mother has never heard of Forever 21!