"Why Am I With This Man?" - Girlfriends' Read 12:17 AM Share

Women are emotional. Men aren't?

I beg to differ.

Women cry and let their feelings out by expressing them in words. Men - well, let's just say they're not so smart in utilizing words.

How do men show us that they're sad or angry or just plain emotional? They act it out. Yes, you do!

Here are my top four scenarios (in no particular order) on men's acts of emotions:

Scenario 1:

When you're going out on a date. He's waiting outside in the car while you are still just finishing your make-up. Enter the car and you see he's got a pout. You ask, "Are you okay?" He says, "Nothing's wrong." But for the rest of the journey, he sits quietly, driving, without so much of a glance at you. Besides the odd questions here and there, he gives you the silent treatment for the rest of the date.

He's angry. Reason: because it took you an extra 5 minutes to do your make-up and he had to wait for that "longest" of a time of 5 MINUTES!

Scenario 2:

As a continuation to the 1st scenario, this one extends to the story that you're going out for dinner with him and a few of his and your friends. Dinner ends with everyone guessing the total bill. You guess a number and everyone else guesses a higher number than yours. Turns out you were the furthest guess from the actual. "No shame in it", you'd might think. But because your boyfriend was angry with you, he felt justified by embarrassing you in front of his friends.

You put a smile and act oblivious to his foolish attempt to embarrass you. Truth: your feelings are hurt and inside you're crying because your boyfriend would show you up in front of his friends and actually laugh AT YOU, too!

Scenario 3:

In the car with your boyfriend driving, your boyfriend checks on your inbox in your handphone. One of the messages indicates you're keeping a secret for a girl-friend to whom you've sworn to never tell. Your boyfriend insists to know. You say, "But I've promised not to tell." Boyfriend squints his eyes and and says, " Fine!" Boyfriend continues driving but this time with increasing speed and stunt-like manoeuvers.

You try to remain calm and unaffected. Inside, you're scared and at the same time angry at him for being so selfish. Selfish for not considering the life of a girl who is his girlfriend, the life of a girl who, more importantly is a daughter of a father and mother, whom would like to see her return home safe and sound.

Scenario 4:

You don't mind that boyfriend has friends who are girls with whom he frequently hangs out with and even have conversations on the phone with. Just as long as he knows his boundaries. But you sit next to a friend who is a boy and all you do is have petty conversations. Boyfriend gives you a look. As a sign of respect, you move away and try to explain to boyfriend. But boyfriend wouldn't hear it and sets off to not talk to you and ignore you for the next few days or until you say sorry.

Boyfriend is angry and you want to make it right so you say sorry. Truth: was it really yours to say sorry? Does the rules of 'not engaging with the opposite sex' apply only to the girlfriend but it's 'however it goes' for the boyfriend?

Often, it isn't the words that causes the tears to fall down a woman's face or bare the hurt of the heart. It is the things that men don't say but do that makes us listen to achy-breaky heart songs and ask, "Why am I with this man?"

It Is Almost Time To Go 4:07 PM Share

"...I've lived in this place and I know all the faces
Each one is different but they're always the same
They mean me no harm but it's time that I face it
They'll never allow me to change
But I never dreamed home would end up where I don't belong 
I'm movin' on..."




It's five minutes to the end. Like a schoolkid, all ready and packed to storm out of the room. For a moment there, it was all she could think of - to come home.

The loving voice of a mother, the warm embrace of a little sister, the assuring confidence of a father - nothing else mattered for her. Coming home was, always has been, a memory of comfort and love.

Yet, as the years passed and as she came into age, deep down lays a yearning for something bigger than herself and the world she has come to love. She knew inevitably, it was something she must do for herself. It was the only way to keep her sane.

The harmonics have dwindled over the years, now replaced by constant bickerings and doled-out blames enough for the whole family. Silent treatments and unrelentless name callings have come to waste, they no longer pierce the hearts.

Do you know that feeling when you're so sad that you want to just cry?

But you're so angry at the same time that the tears just won't fall?

Her days are like these - plagued by the slanders to her feelings, yet unable to rise above them, even with the strongest of will.

It isn't the question of could, but it is the question of would - would she be willing to endure?

She could not make them choose. It wouldn't be right to do so. For her, it seemed like they have already made a choice. A choice not to listen, a choice not to defend, a choice not to acknowledge. A choice not to choose but to neglect entirely.

Perhaps she's thinking too much into it. Perhaps this is her heart speaking to her. Perhaps all she wants to do is to get out.

For sorrow that is too much, her reasons mattered only to her. 

The bags are packed, the pictures and gifts all wrapped up and the memories tucked away in the corner of the bedroom. And as she carried with her her dignity and pride, she knew it is almost time to go.

My Friend Want To Be A....Toilet! 10:31 PM Share

It's Day Three as a new teacher in my school - so far so good. I have yet to experience the stress & pressure that so many teachers have complained about. But I'll try to take each day as it is and not worry or expect too much in the coming days.

Today was the Year 7 Enrichment Programme Orientation and it gave me a chance to get to know my 7G a little better. Being the lowest-end class in the cohort, I knew trying to maintain discipline and organization within the class would be a challenge for the day. It didn't help with the fact that out of the 11 students in that class, 10 of them were boys.

Before today, we had a short briefing about the games for the programme the next day, and I knew getting 7G to complete or even participate in the games was going to be hard work. I was told not to expect much.

Our first game was "Remember Your Friends" where each student were to introduce themselves and the person next to them and so on. A simple game, you might say, but not so simple for them.

"My friend name is Harry. My friend 7G. My friend want to be security."

As their Language & Communication teacher, I quickly found out where I needed to focus my teaching with them - everything!

We had our light moments as well, and I too shared a laugh I couldn't contain with them.

"My friend name is Benniface. He in tujuh (seven) G. He want to be a toilet."

It was an honest mistake. He wasn't being a clown at the time. He wasn't saying that his friend wanted to be a toilet, per se. But he couldn't find the word he actually meant, either.

"A pilot," I corrected. "Not toilet, a pilot."

For most of the time, keeping the group in order or telling them to quiet down proved to be an effort wasted. I can tell you now that the fingers on my hands cannot count the number of times our group have been called on for making too much noise or disrupting other groups. I constantly prayed for the day to end soon.

But God was not so forgiving today.

Our last game was the Tech-Challenge where each group of students will have to make a simplified model of an oil-rig platform using just pieces of newspapers and some masking tapes. I quietly said to myself, "My group will definitely not have an oil-rig model to show at the end of the activity. Gosh, we're in for the shame later on, then."

My fears seemed inches away from fruition when my 7G were not anyway near to building at least the legs of the platform even after 15 minutes. In fact, all they could do was to ask me "What is o-reek (oil-rig), cher?"

After explaining in very "kindergarten" words and even drawing a very rough sketch of an oil-rig platform, one or two students finally knew what they were supposed to do and began rolling newspapers to build legs. I finally could sigh for relieve - just a bit, though.

With just thirty minutes left into the activity, it was a reassuring sight when the others in my 7G group began picking up on what they needed to do. In fact, I was pretty surprised myself to see the students come up with a plan to make the legs of the platform sturdy and stable all by themselves. I began to see hope.

After finishing the platform, it was obvious in the faces of the students that they were so proud of their structure and I couldn't help but be so proud of them, too. They couldn't wait to show the rest of students in the hall their "o-reek" platform.

As the judges saw each platform being tested with weights, my 7Gs were all up on their feet, excited and nervous at the same time, as they waited for their platform to be tested. 

The moment of truth came, and as I saw two of my 7Gs up front with their platform, I held my breath. I wanted so much for the platform to stand and not topple under the weights. The rest of the 7Gs were literally on their toes, perhaps gritting their teeth.

As the last of the weights were piled on, the platform quivered a little and slanted a bit to one side..

God was definitely forgiving today.

Our "o-reek" platform stood strong and my 7Gs literally jumped for joy and cheered. The platform success meant a LOT to these kids. Their success meant a LOT to me, too.

As challenging as it may sound to be teaching these students who may not be able to read at all or understand even the simplest of sentences, I still don't think it as an added burden that will probably not reap desirable (exam) results. Rather, I feel blessed to be teaching a group of students so unique & diverse such as that of my 7Gs.

After all, where else can you get students who think toilets can fly planes?

My Year 7Gs with their "o-reek" platform