The month of February

Ahhh... February.. The month of Valentines.. The month of love.. Where butterflies flit and birds sing their melodies and the scent of cotton candy permeates the air.. Ptooie..

No. I'm not a dried up cynical old hag with no man in her life.. Quite the opposite in fact.. I'm in love with my very own Marlboro Man and so far so good.. For now anyway.. But.. Valentine's day... *shivers* it just gets to me.. Ok, so I won't be a hypocritical cow and deny that I love the thought of presents etc etc on this day.. However, flowers? For me? Thanks but no thanks.. If flowers are a symbol of love, what happens when those very real flowers die? Do the non-tangibles in signifies die to? Is it an omen? Pffffttt....

Retailers jump for joy and do Kadazan dances (no disrespect intended, its just a phrase that's stuck with me from high school) whenever this sugary syrupy gooey-schmooey occasion (not even a holiday mind you!) rolls around.. Dollar signs light up their eyes, and prices get jacked up sky high.. All for what? A declaration of love? Puh-leez, it's to boost up your own ego and self-esteem. It's a sign that "Yeah baby, somebody wants/loves/likes/thinks about me. Look at me, look at me." Flowers?! For me?? Awww.. Thanks but, no thanks..

Do sweet words and surprise gifts lose their importance because they were given on January 18th or 19th or 20th? What makes this day so special? That people fork out wads of money for items/meals/outings that are on a normal day only 1/6th of the price? I don't get it.. Yes when I was younger I was wholeheartedly in on this V-day extravaganza.. But as I got older? I kinda grew out of it.. I'm just like.. whatever already...

Everyday should be a day of love.. ok geez that sounded corny.. think I threw up a little in my own mouth.. I should be shot.. sorry... Let's try that again... Everyday should be a day where you are free to express your sentiments of err... err.. drat.. what's another word for love.. *pauses to check thesaurus.com* Righty.. I repeat.. Everyday should be a day where you are free to express your sentiments of adulation, affection, allegiance, amity, amorousness, amour, appreciation, ardency, ardor, attachment, case*, cherishing, crash, crush, delight, devotedness, devotion, emotion, enchantment, enjoyment, fervor, fidelity, flame, fondness, friendship, hankering, idolatry, inclination, infatuation, involvement, like, liking, lust, mad for, mash, partiality, pash, passion, piety, rapture, regard, relish, respect, sentiment, soft spot*, taste, tenderness, the hots, weakness, wild for*, worship, yearning, zeal No??

So..

To those of you celebrating this V-Day.. Happy Valentines Day and Baaa Baaa..

To those of you who share this sentiments and are single.. Enjoy your singlehood and trust me when I say there are many of us single and in the market..

To those of you NOT giving a crap that's its V-Day even though you're in a relationship.. Good on ya mate.. Let's go have a drink and I'll tell you I love you tomorrow..

..Points to ponder..

Women these days aren't all naive little Cinderellas waiting with our bare, manicured foot stuck outside our front door, toes painted chilli red and pointing up, like the stiff red flag on a mailbox, signaling our desire to be picked up.

We're more resilient in fact than the mailman, because no matter how much rain, sleet or snow pummeled our naked foot, we refused to bring it inside until the prince arrived, with his slippers, preferably Jimmy Choos.

However, and let's face this candidly, we're not exactly thinking rationally when we're in love. Our bodies are flooded with chemicals when we first fall in love; it's like being on Ecstasy and suddenly everything the other person says or does is blissful, perfect. But let's face it, most likely when you wake up from that little high, all you're going to be stuck with the next day is a bottle of asprin and a gallon of water instead of a government-backed certificate uniting you to the snoring stranger next to you for the rest of your happy little lives.

Finding true love should follow the unwritten rules of going to the grocery store. Any fool knows you don't go grocery shopping when you're hungry, much less starving. You'll throw any old thing into your cart if your stomach is in the throes of a grumbling delirium. But the second you get home and get a little something into your system, you're going to think - why the hell did I buy Cajun pork dumplings, garlic soy sauce and wheat-infused pesto-rainbow raviolis?

You know why you did it, you were starving and delirious. The real question is - why didn't any rational, satiated fellow shoppers stop you? Even if they feared you'd get violent, they could have at least kindly removed the bizarre items from your cart when you weren't looking.

People 'in love' should be locked in a cage together until they get a glimpse of what it will feel like to truly hate each other. We should all be forced to spend time with several of the ones-of-thousands-of-potential ONES, locked in a Waiting-to-Hate-You-So-I-Can-See-If-I-Can-Love-You-Cage with them, and after being held captive with fifty or so men, the one you hated the least would be the one you could grow to love the most.

But what if you did find the guy you hated the least, and after a couple of decades of lukewarm bliss, he dies in a freak accident and you still spend the majority of your life alone because you lost him in old age, at a time when neither the cloak of beauty nor the burden of loyalty was there to protect you? Funny how similar love was to the stock market. No matter how wisely you invested, you just couldn't predict whether your portfolio was going to grow steady and pay off, or crash and burn.

But if you didn't invest at all, you didn't even get a chance. Zero investments yield zero profits. Yet can you stand the heartache of losing completely everything? If spreading out your investments were your safest bet, what does this mean when it comes to love?

You can't exactly keep several other men waiting in the wings in case Mr-after-spending-twenty days-locked-in-a-cage-with-you-i-hated-you-the-least doesn't work out.

Could you?

There are hundreds of thousands of potential ONES. But it isn't exactly conducive to romance to start lining up men and locking them in cages, like securing your stock portfolio.

Unless you trade on mutual understanding that you were simply using each other as a backup in case your preferred cage-mate's stock plummeted. *sigh* No wonder we're so messed up when it comes to matters of the heart. With so many variations and question marks, it isn't surprising that even the most gifted of psychics can't predict the millions of love permutations in a given portfolio.

..Mistaken Identity..

I can't believe I haven't told you guys this before.. Or maybe i have and my brain is just not co-operating in the memory department..

DID YOU KNOW that lately (no specific timelines, just like oh, the past few months!) people have been telling me that I look like Kimora bloody Simmons!! For real?????? DO I really look and/or behave like this??



You've got to be kidding right?

..Completely random..

Alrighty..

So it's been awhile..

Gone were the days where i'd blog every so often just random thoughts or random pics. Why? Simple. I have abso-bloody-lutely no time at all. I shit you not. I am completely and utterly exhausted beyond belief its sooooo not funny. On the up side though, i've lost HEAPS of weight.. Woohoo!! Crack open the champagne and throw a party! No more, "Oh wow, how many months pregnant are you?" comments from blind bats.

What's been happening? Work work work social work work work. That pretty much sums up my life right about now. Can you see why i'm tired? Sigh. Throw me a pity party. Actually no, not really. I'm happy. It's been a long while, but i'm actually happy.

I've recently met some ab-fab (for you un-glam people that means absolutely fabulous, like duh! <-- bimbo voice) people at the places I work and it's been good.

Have also been made to step outside my comfort zone quite a fair bit and I must say i've even surprised myself at what I'm capable of. I almost imagined a scene like so:

Adventures of the Mall Queen:

Mall Queen: Oh my god, like, it's so hot out here? Is there a Starbucks nearby?
Marlboro Man: What did I get myself into..

MQ: Damn, I need to pee. Is there a toilet out here??
MM: The bushes.

MQ: Oh wow, this place has no Astro.

MQ: Eww.. Fish.. Eww.. Frogs..

But in actuality, I did quite okay if I do say so myself. Truly, i even made myself proud. However, unfortunately this does not immediately mean that the title of Mall Queen has been dropped. *sigh* I don't think I'll ever get rid of it.

Speaking of comfort zones.. Yes I know this page is called Drama Queen Alert.. and yes my title is Drama Queen/Drama Mama, but let me tell you, this is a persona that I've worked hard to create. In truth, i'm quite a quiet reserved person. Stop choking/laughing/snickering and take that "Like as if" look off your face. ITS TRUE!!! Pulling the drama queen out of my pocket is like slipping on a whole different personality. The DQ allows me free reign to be over-the-top and pretentious and in your face with little if any repercussions.

I highly recommend that everyone should have a different personality profile, much along the lines of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde. It helps with your self-esteem issues and it helps you get away with plenty.

I'm rambling. I'm bored. I'm outta here..

Kissess
Drama Mama