The Rules

I like watching NCIS. Grumpy introduced me to this series few years ago, and we’ve been watching it since. The rerun, the new one, everything. Sometimes, I even remember the whole plot just to watch the first three minutes of the episode… but I watch it anyway. The same applies when I watch Agatha Christie’s Poirot with David Suchet as Poirot, or Miss Marple for that matter… I think they’ve done the characters really well.

Back to NCIS, without any intention to spoil anything, there is Gibbs. He’s the main hero of the show — the old guy who does his thing, and does it well. I have to say that if you think about it, Gibbs is just an average guy, he’s not on the top of the pyramid, but he’s still the boss for a lot of brilliant agents. He’s not the one with the ultimate power to make it happen, but he can still tell his people what to do without having to do everything himself. And we like this guy…

One thing about Gibbs that I like the most is his set of “Gibbs’ Rules”. Gibbs lives by the set of rules such as: never ever screw over your partner, or never get personally involved to a case. I like that a lot. I think everybody needs to learn from Gibbs about this rule-making business. I believe that everybody needs a set of rules for their lives — in fact, I have been trying to write down some rules for myself too (but that’s for much later).

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Why, though? I heard you asked, why would you need to make rules?

Like I said just now, I think people needs to have a set of rules. Of course we don’t need to make rules for every single little thing we do in life, but we definitely need some ground rule to follow. Imagine a manual book… Every proper machine comes with a manual book, shame that we don’t when we were born. But we can write one, can’t we?

True that we don’t need that manual book for everything. We don’t always refer to our smartphone manual book every time we turn it on, or make a phone call, do we? We turn to manual book when things go wrong. We turn to our manual book when things are not what they are supposed to be. We use the information in the manual book to troubleshoot, and I think that’s exactly the set of rules should be done.

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Gibbs rule “never ever leave without a knife”, for example. Is a very practical rule that he could always refer to — as a ex-marine, that makes sense. My dad has his own rule too, almost similar to Gibbs “always have cash with you”. Very practical, and have saved us several times from the embarrassment of broken card machine. I am pretty sure these two wise gentlemen have learned from life before coming to these rules.

I am still writing my rules… I believe my father is still revising his everyday too. I can tell you one of my rules, though: “never go shopping with empty stomach”. What do you think about that?

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The Pursuit Of Betterness

I think a lot of people don’t want to admit that they want things to get Better. Saying that we want things to be better means admitting that what we’ve got today is not good enough. It’s good… but not enough.

Some people who think that making things better is just a means to feed our vanity — they might think of something trivial like: the fridge in your kitchen is not big enough, even the kitchen where the fridge is is not spacious enough. The waistline is not slim enough, the thigh gap is not far enough. The muscle is not tough enough, and you can’t run fast enough. The hair is not fluffy enough, the skin is not smooth enough.

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I need a new phone, by the way…

But I think making things better is more than getting better things. It is a sense of improvement. You might not need a bigger kitchen, but you could eat better food — tastier, more wholesome, something that actually makes you feel good about yourself better than frozen pizza. You might not need to slim down, but you live better life — getting rid of pot belly, reducing the risk of getting an early hip or knee cap replacement, or having the chance to breathe normally because your lungs are not squeezed by the visceral fats.

You don’t need to have get more money on your bank account (as good as it sounds), but you can still have a better financial security — paying off debts, everything’s insured, retirement plan’s sorted. You don’t need to be an athlete, but you can get fit– walk to the city or bike to work, or simply keep away the pints until the fun weekend with your buddies. I mean, there are plenty of ways to get better… but not many people likes it.

As one of the sanest people I have known in life, a lot of people don’t like you to get better, because it reminds them of how their life is — not good enough. It scares people because if you get better, you will raise the standard what is considered okay. It is like one student in your class that others hated so much because she (or he, but usually a she) would always over-achieve and tip the balance of mediocrity in your classroom — the one who would always hold up the recess time, and get you and your friends extra homework because your teacher used her as the class benchmark. The one that others secretly envy…

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I am short, so this is still within my healthy BMI

When I lost a lot of weight after changing my habit, a lot of people where I came from started to make comment about me over doing it. Of course some of them have a genuine concern because eating disorder is a legit thing to be concern about. But some just don’t like it because it means theis acceptable size would have to change too. Like a lot of ladies thinking that having a woman with healthy BMI as a bikini model is bad because it makes other women feels pressurised to be… in that healthy BMI.

What’s wrong with it?

What’s wrong with wanting to be better?

Ah… I think I need to apologise for not being able to understand. Maybe it’s just because I am an alien. Sometimes it takes longer to understand one thing than the other. Maybe I just need to go back observing food than human’s Lifestyle

The Princess

When I found out that today’s prompt word is ” Panicked“, somehow I thought of my dad. It is definitely unusual, because my dad is probably the most cool-headed person I have ever known in my life. I don’t want to sound smug or something, but I think there are only few people that can make my cool-headed dad into panicky mode. I am one of them… and the other one is the tax-man (who doesn’t get panicky when the tax-man comes?).

I suspect, it was the latest incident that makes me think of my father when I tried to think of who “panicked” lately. I have a suspicion that if it is not because of that, I might think of my mum instead — I think she fits the profile better.

But I am going to tell you what made my dad panicked last afternoon.

Our little alien family has a Whatsapp chatgroup, and although it is not one hundred percent active all the time, but when it is active the conversation would move pretty quickly from one topic to the other. My dad is new in this technology thing — I am not saying he is a technophobe, but I think he needs more time to keep up with this compared to my mother. As a result, it is still quite difficult for him to follow the movement of conversation in the family chatgroup.

Few days ago, I left an ambiguous message in the group. Yes, I left it deliberately because it was supposed to be an opening gambit for an incredibly lame alien joke. It wasn’t even funny in my world, it would be even worse if I try to translate it to English, as the joke would be completely lost in translation. However, at that time the chatgroup was quiet, and nobody responded to that particular message, so I just left it like that without any further explanation.

my hot water bottle agrees…

I wasn’t thinking, of course, that the message could be easily misinterpreted by anyone who reads it. My siblings have gotten used to my lame, slightly dark and alienly jokes, but not my parents. Especially with my dad, since the joke was half done, and was sent through a technology he is not used to, I think he genuinely though that there’s something seriously wrong happened to me.

So yesterday he made a phone call.

He was never a talker — not on the phone. It is usually mum who’s got the job to keep tab on the kids, and making individual phone calls to make sure we are okay. So yes, I can feel slightly special, that my dad actually made that effort to make the phone call himself. He didn’t sound panicked, but I know he was — thus the phone call. If he wasn’t panicked, he would just tell mum to check.

Actually… I think normally he would just ask mum anyway, if it is about my siblings. But, you see… I am my dad’s little princess. I am a bit older now, but I think unless you’ve done something really-really-really stupid, and you have broken your dad’s heart really-really-really bad, you would never stop being your dad little princess — doesn’t matter how old you are.

Just in case you want to know, the phone call only lasted few minutes. Here’s roughly the break-down of the conversation:

(phone rings)

Me: “Dad?”

Dad: “Hey, how’ve you been?”

Me: “I am alright… What’s up?”

Dad: “No, I just wondered why did you say that thing on the chatgroup…”

Me: “Oh! *laughs and then explains the joke*

Dad: “I see… Okay then… Did you want to talk to your mum?”

Me: “Not really…”

Dad: *sounds like he’s taking the phone away from him, and he’s calling my mum*

Yes. Did I tell you that he’s not really a talker on the phone?

But I feel so happy he called. I know that it doesn’t sound that special in this country, but in my alien culture… it is special. Dads are meant to be the tough, stoic ones, and mums are those who made those panicky phone calls. But my dad broke all that conventions for me, and I know exactly why.

Because I am The Princess.

x

Politics

I have never heard anyone said openly that they like politics, even politicians. The most I heard from common people who I know is that they are interested in politics. I am not sure what’s wrong with politics, but I think there is a certain negative image about politics, and I think bad politicians have something to do with this negative attitude towards politics.

But I do love politics. I think it is one very important part of our life, and whether you want it or not, it affects a lot of aspects in your life. I think it is impossible to escape from it unless you are living alone in an uncharted territory, and you don’t have to trade or make contact with any society.

I don’t always like it though. I used to think that politics is synonymous with dirty. But like hacking — they have white hat and black hat, I think politics is the same. There are people who use politics to make personal gain, but there are plenty who use politics genuinely to help people. Read history, you will find plenty of examples: toppling down dictators, protecting women and children from exploitation at work or domestic abuse, the rights to marry someone regardless their religion, race, or sexual orientation.

Politics gives you the chance to change something. Or keep something as it is. It is THAT important, it affects how you go to work, how your business could expand, how your children get their education… So, I feel terribly sad when people say that they don’t care about politics. How can they?

I came from a very different world than the UK. I believe they’re catching up, but I think there is still a long way to go before the political situation could reach the level of stability we have in the UK. It’s okay, any progress is better than no progress at all. I am saying this from experience — how things were when I was very very young.

We were under a nasty dictator for 32 years. Until my preteen, he was the only president I knew. And even then I knew you don’t speak ill of him. Even then I knew that there are a lot of people disappeared from the face of the earth after speaking up about his government. I didn’t know why but I know that the five-yearly election is a sham — the winner is definitely the party that supported the president at that time, so… why bother voting? You don’t talk politics… it is either dangerous, or useless. People learned to be apathetic, and adapted to this political oppression.

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After 32 years with that, it is like Stockholm Syndrome to many of the citizens. Especially the older generation who lives longer with the oppressor. Sometimes I heard them longing for the “stability”, that “someone is taking control of the country”, and that “there are less thing to worry about”. They forgot that with freedom there are rights and responsibilities, and they come hand in hand.

I think some people just forget to count their blessings. A lot of people from the first world countries like the UK take their freedom in politics for granted. This general election is one of the perfect example — people are openly telling people that they could not be bothered to vote or even get themselves registered as an electorate. Why? Because all politicians are the same? Because they think that their voice don’t count?

I don’t have the right to vote in the UK, because I am not (yet?) a citizen of this country. But I would love to. I would love to have the rights to get the person who has got the better plan how to run the country in the government. I would like the rights to moan, complain, and protest… or even feel smug when the person I voted for do something incredibly cunning. I want that. I want that very much, thank you,

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So, for the sake of the country I am living in right now… If you are a UK citizen, please vote. Please go to wherever they told you where to go to, so you can exercise your rights and at the same time do your responsibility for your country. Or, you can get it posted, if you wish. And if even if you don’t have anyone you want on the ballot paper, just go there, and write something on it — “Stephen Fry, for PM” for example. Just get yourself heard…

Enough from this Alien today.

x

Control

I just learned about this thing called Daily Prompt. I think this is a brilliant thing to have. I think the idea is very similar to word of the day (it is “dox”, just in case you want to know), the difference is that with Daily Prompt, the word is given as the topic of the day, for you to write something. I think it is awesome, as it is not only work as a challenge, but also giving an idea of what to write when you practically have nothing to write.

A couple of days ago, I participated when the word was “yarn”, of course on my other blog where I posted a lot about my knitting projects. I mean, it is almost an insult not to participate in that particular topic, isn’t it?

Today’s word, is apparently ” Control“.

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I’ve struggled to decide whether I like yarn or control better. I think both are in my list of my favourite things — for different reason, but funnily enough could be related to each other. How? Well… Yarn sale makes me lose control, and when I try to maintain control, I would have to let go of some of my yarns… How’s that for confusing?

However, if I have to choose, I will definitely choose to be in control. I have experienced the moment where I don’t have control with things that happened in my life, and it was horrible. However it was also then, when I learned that even when I can’t control the situation surrounding me, there’s always one thing that I can take control over.

Myself.

Maybe it was that time when I started to get a little bit over the top with self-discipline, taking notes of what I eat, keeping up with my personal budget, making plans and making sure that the plans are executed properly… It gives me the sense of safety. Maybe it was why I don’t like it when I’ve been told that the plan is “to go with the flow”, or last-minute cancellation, or someone comes to visit unannounced while I have a plan to be a hermit for the day…

Some might say that I am a control freak. I don’t think so.

I don’t see anything wrong with being organised. I think it is completely logical not to put ourselves in a situation where things could just go entirely wrong. And, really, wouldn’t it give you this sense of victory when you can take an ultimate control of your body and mind

Well… for me it does. AND, if it makes me a control freak, I don’t mind at all.

Weekends…

Weekends are usually one of these two things. Either it would be the most productive days of the week — when you do everything that you’ve planned the whole weekdays, such as getting the allotment plot cleared, weeding the flower border, baking three different bread in the kitchen (just because you can), writing seven chapter of what soon will become the next bestseller… or even have a lot of walking and grocery shopping for the week ahead.

Or, you turn into the most useless creature of the planet. Glued to the sofa, watching the daytime weekend TV program (which is essentially the dumbed down version of the daytime weekdays TV program), and munching the content of the sharing pack of crisps yourself. Sometimes, if you can be bothered, you might make some effort to brush the crumbs from your clothes…

But whichever it is…

Weekends are the best because you can be alone.

I don’t know about most of you, but socialising is not really my favourite thing to do.

While some people get energised by being among the crowd, I found it makes me very uncomfortable and tiring. I could spend the whole day cleaning the gunk and grease from the oven, and feel very cheerful by dinner time, but I will be completely wasted after two hours of having a constant conversation. That’s probably why I am not a good host for any visiting guests.

Anyway… It is going to be a long weekend — they call it bank holiday weekend here.

I kind of hope it is going to be a fun and productive weekend, but nobody knows. Who knows I will wake up tomorrow morning with a nasty spring flu (a.k.a terrible terrible hayfever reaction), and couldn’t even be bothered to even step out my front door. Hey! That’s not a bad idea. I could stay at home and write some more, or finish another knitting project…

Right… see you again soon.

x

P.S do

A Thing Or Two About First Post

Writing the first entry on your blog is usually the hardest part in setting up a new blog. I should have known, as I have been blogging for several years, and have set up several blogs (admittedly I only post regularly in some of them). This time, I was hoping that it would be slightly easier, because this time, I am not alone in this.

Yessur!

This time, I have a partner in crime in writing. I finally drag that grumpy old git to this blogging world again (muhaha!), and hopefully this writing partnership would encourage us both to write more. I kind of like that idea, considering that writing (and reading for that matter) was how we originally connected.

Why is this blog called Alien VS Grumpy? Yeah, I can hear you asked from the noisy crowd out there… No. Just in case you are assuming that it has anything to do with the film Alien VS Predator, no it doesn’t have anything to do with it. Seriously, I don’t have a better answer for that… it’s just basically about me and my grumpy husband trying to expand our partnership into the virtual world.

Okay… it’s kind of obvious why my husband is called Grumpy. He’s not bashful nor dopey. And, although he could be slightly happy sometimes, his default mode is grumpy. He is even happier when he is grumpy. So yeah… it is quite easy to see why he is called Grumpy. But why am I the Alien? Ha ha… that’s the mystery of the universe. Let’s just say that I am a bit… foreign for this country. So we leave it at that for now.

Now, about what you can expect from this blog… well. For the sake of your mental health, I advise you not to hope too much. It is just us talking bollocks about a lot of random stuff that you probably don’t care about.

Have I told you that I am really good at advertising myself?

Anyway, if I write one more paragraph you will fall asleep because of boredom. I will just stop for now, hope that I remember to come back to write some more.

Hasta la vista baby…