If my friends and I were born male instead of female – I swear we’d make far better men than the existing men around. One phrase to describe today’s men, to sum them all up – chivalry is dead.
M and I reported for our exam invigilation duties and somehow found ourselves holding the glass doors open for one another at a 7-eleven store. (Imagine a glass door with two panels – me holding open one side and M holding the other side, basically staring at each other dumbly, unsure whom should go first.)
It happened again when we had to enter the building via another glass door.
That was when M concluded the whole situation with the title of this post – that girls (ahem, us) make far better men than err yes, men.
Why? Because we hold the doors open for each other (girls will most definitely appreciate that), offer to carry stuff for each other (again, another characteristic appreciated by girls) and the last quality that M swears I possess – that I swear like a bullet train. (Hehehehehe.)
In fact, it wasn’t just M and myself who would make good men.
A few days later …
Stef and I found ourselves stranded at the library after a sudden downpour. We had to part in different directions. but I offered to walk her to the bus stop since I had the good ol’ umbrella ella ella with me … or so I thought. (Okay, still about Brenda the MAN here but continue to read on!)
Realized later that my umbrella was nowhere in my bag (oops) – which means that I can’t walk Stef to the bus stop, which also means that both of us were back to square one – still trapped at the library. So much for being chivalrous. :(
Had to sit around and wait for the rain to stop in the end.
Later, Stef offered to walk me to my destination – which was a considerable distance away. I agreed after a slight tussle. (Because it means troubling her, but she insisted she was fine with it.) So, she walked me to my destination. (See? Chivalrous Stef!)
And in return, I walked her to the nearest bus stop at my destination.
Basically, we were walking each other to and fro. (Which I thought was rather hilarious.)
Will be away for the next two and a half days or so. Will be at Pulau Sibu, Malaysia with several crazy people from early morning tomorrow, trekking (yay!), soaking up the sun (yay!), watching them snorkel and participate in water sports (because I can’t swim) and capturing photographs like mad (sunrise/sunsets there are supposed to be spectacular).
So … until then! (:
And honestly, it definitely is.
I’ve been a loyal user of Crumpler bags since mid-2005, and am still going strong. I own three of them now, and I use them iteratively. (As in, when I feel like Barney, I’d use the purple one. When I feel plain, I’d use the black one. As for the brown one, I use it the most since it’s my favourite out of the three bags.)
Then, my younger cousin David decided to get himself one. And of course, I’m in full support of it – Crumpler rocks, remember?
I stood aside as he tried bag after bag, giving comments and tips here and there as to which bag is better. I personally do not recommend the Western Lawn style as they rely entirely on velcro – which means that you risk having your bag fall open every now and then once the velcro starts wearing out. Instead, go for those that have the black buckle in addition to the velcro … like the Barney Rustle Blanket or the Soupansalad styles.
Trying on bag after bag after bag after bag after … you get the idea.
David finally chose the third design in the photo above – called The Considerable Embarassment for reasons totally beyond me. Not a bad choice – with two snap buckles plus velcro, and more compartments within for storage than I can count on both my hands combined together.
He was pretty excited about getting his Crumpler, and immediately after his mum made payment for it, he was already diving back to the shelves and asking her for another one. Hahahahahaha.
I can name so many reasons why I love Crumpler so much (and may even brainwash everyone out there), and just to name a few;
1) They come in very versatile, plain yet classy designs which means that you can match a Crumpler with almost any other colour.
2) They are extremely hardy. (My first Crumpler had tolerated so much abuse and is still standing strong.)
3) They come with so many compartments which means you will have no problems organizing your stuff. (Especially if you’re a packrat like moi!)
4) They (even the smallest bags) can withstand the weight of my laptop!
5) They are very comfortable. (I’ve carried my Crumpler on several hiking/biking trips and it never gave me much problems – unless you’re carrying a brickload of stuff, of course.)
I can name a lot more but let me just stop here, lest someone thinks that I’m a spokesperson for Crumpler or something and starts to doubt the credibility of my words.
Let me end it all with a last photo – my cousin proudly carrying his new Crumpler (which is in that brown cloth bag he’s holding) and err … me standing beside him. (Wasn’t carrying my Crumpler bag that day, unfortunately.)
Don’t let the height fool you. I’m older. Much, much older. :(
Oh, one more reason to love Crumpler – they are environmentally friendly. They sell their bags in reusable cloth bags! (Nay to plastic bags!)
I’ve crazy FYP teammates who I swear, can see an innuendo in almost anything.
While playing with shadows in the group study room at sundown – lights in the room were switched off, and our only light source was the spotlights coming from outside the window which casted bright lights on the ceiling.
J made a shadow of a bird. (Eagle, rather.) I on the other hand, was fooling around with shadows of dinosaurs, dragons or whatsoever.
“Careful! My dinosaur is going to eat your bird!” says I.
“Ummmm,” J and M shoot me questioning looks.
“Oh my gosh – wait! I didn’t mean it that way!”
Oh, and I’ve a strange fascination with queer and meaningless songs as of late.
Wait – did I just say ‘as of late’? Make that the past half a year! I blame it all on Mister Irvin, who corroded my brain with The Dugong Song sometime in November last year. Till now, that tune is still stuck in my head and I find myself singing it unknowingly, drawing strange glances in my direction.
Here’s a llama, there’s a llama. And another little llama.
Fuzzy llama, funny llama. Llama llama, duck.
Meanwhile – juggling the workload of FYP and preparations for my upcoming two trips. Six days to the Pulau Sibu trip, and eleven days to the Genting Trip. Wheeness!