Sam was hot. There was no other explanation. At least none that Simone could think of. She just knew that she had to have him. 

Simone was always this good girl. Goody-two-shoes, funny as fuck, nice tits. Maybe that was one of the reasons her boyfriend Pete asked her out in the first place. They met at an Ed Sheeran concert- Pete and her – and that’s how it started. 

Simone hated busy spots. She hated hanging out with more than three people at once and she definitely did not want to go to the concert that night. But then, you know, Ed Sheeran. She pulled on a blue halterneck romper and her trusty white Nike sneakers, ignoring the eye-roll from her roommate. 

“You do know that your attachment towards your stupid sneakers is kind of sad, don’t you, Simone?”

“I know, Dre. Look, can we hurry now, please?”

The concert was crazy. Thousands of people. Somewhere she got separated from Dre and Kevyn, and as she desperately looked around for any signs of Dre’s flaming red hair, Simone thought she felt a panic attack coming on. That’s when she felt an arm on her shoulder. It wasn’t Dre. It was an awkwardly tall, bumbling dude with the weirdest hair ever. He was saying something but Simone had this weird buzzing in her ears and she thought she’d die. Then everything went black. 

When she came to she was in someone’s room, on someone’s couch, a fuzzy blanket thrown over her. Welp, she thought, where am I? As if answering her question, someone said, “Please don’t panic, you’re safe. Your roommate called. She’ll come get you, I gave her perfect instructions.” Simone looked around and it was the tall bumbling dude. He said his name was Pete and they sat there awkwardly for a bit before Dre came to get her and the two girls left. 

It transpired that Pete actually lived round the corner (with an elusive roommate of his own, elusive because nobody had seen the dude much) so Simone started hanging out with him. One thing led to another, lots of steamy kisses and before long, they were ‘going steady’. Or so she thought. 

One day she happened to be lounging around Pete’s apartment alone when he showed up with Sam. When Pete kissed her hey all she could see was Sam. The elusive roommate. Where Pete was skinny and basically looked like a bag of bones, Sam had these broad shoulders, and his smile was so radiant it hit Simone like a physical force across the room. 

“Baby, meet Sam. He’s been my roommate for a while now. Did you know he plays the guitar?”

Simone wanted to say a bazillion things, including a lot ofkiss me Sam”s but settled for a meek Hello instead. The guys ended up playing COD while Simone sat frozen trying to quell the sudden lust threatening to burst out of her, while occasionally flicking glances at Sam and his amazing lips and what she wanted to do to them. Little did she know how suddenly that moment would come…

Two days later, Pete had to rush home for a couple of weeks because his single Mum needed surgery. Dre was away with Kevyn on vacation; and Simone, bored out of her skull, decided to take a walk round the block. And ran into Sam. Who looked as pleased to see her as she did him. And this hanging out thing became a routine. Between work and gym and no Pete and Dre around, Sam and Simone bonded over the weekend, watching pathetic box office bombs which they laughed themselves silly at. The occasional arm brushing turned into full tilt hand holding during accidentally watching The Exorcism of Emily Rose, and things progressed faster than a speeding train. 

Neither of them had any idea how they ended up in Sam’s bed, his hands on her waist, kissing like depraved jaguars. Between kisses, Sam came clean about having a girlfriend back home. At this point, neither of them cared, not really. Nearly blind with lust, Sam kissed Simone’s perfect lips till she couldn’t taste them anymore. Shirts came off, and then Sam expertly undid the clasp on Simone’s bra in under three seconds. Pete had made love to her before and Simone remembered how much she had to fake it but Sam was knocking it out of the ball park, his wet lips leaving behind trails of fire on Simone’s flat stomach, and further down till she couldn’t feel her legs anymore. Afterwards, sitting in bed with Sam holding her while he played Ed Sheeran’s Shape of You, Simone thought that making love to Sam was like embracing art. 

So this became a routine for the both of them: Work, gym, fuck, repeat. Funnily enough, none of their partners called much. Which was a big relief for the both of them. 

On a lunch date with Simone one day before Pete was due to arrive home, Sam noticed Pete walk into a Starbucks nearby. 

“Simone, don’t look now, but I think Pete’s back.”

“Holy. We’ve gotta hide!” 

So they snuck out, and sure enough there was Pete, walking hand in hand with someone who suspiciously looked like… 

“Sam, isn’t that your girlfriend Mia?! Who’s supposed to be back home?”

Sam stopped dead in his tracks. It was her. 

Wound Tight 

I turn ‘older’ in a few days. Yes, this is the point where I start hiding my age. Yikes. Also, whoa, is it almost July already? NO. It can’t be, can it?

I’m on leave at the moment and as usual, I’m clueless as to what to do. To be honest, I don’t really know how to take a break. Or chillax. I’m the sort of person that doesn’t know what to do on days off. I have a two-week break from work, and hating every minute of it. And it’s only been three days. 

I feel like when you’re the kind of person that most people would call an “enigma”, all you are really projecting is unfriendliness. That’s wrong. Just because I’m the kind of person that likes being on my own does not mean that I have no friends. Or that I have only online friends. Even if I did, how is that wrong is any way? Why do people have to be so judgemental? 

Just two days in, I realised that the break I’d taken from work was turning out way more stressful than my actual work schedule. And it hit me: I was a raging workaholic. The very act of having to put sutures, or having to put on a fresh dressing on a diabetic foot was so much more appealing than say, sauteing apples for breakfast. Was I crazy? Most of you would say yes. 

I know this for a fact. 

At this point I realized, I had to DO something. I’ve been so tightly wound these past year, I’d forgotten what it felt like to let go. Wait, I’d never really known what it felt like to let go. 

So, we decided to just drive off. Somewhere. A bunch of people from work and I. I brought along some cake and candy and all the junk food in the world and we went “rock climbing” of sorts. Like, we just walked all the way up the hill. Only there were enormous rocks and not much path to cut across so we basically just latched ourselves on to some rocks and climbed up. Tee hee. Fun. I’ve never done this in regular shoes. So it was amazing, to say the least. 

I’ve never celebrated my birthday ten days ahead. Also, did you know that cutting cake on the top of a hill is the nicest thing ever??! Not to mention having your face painted with leftover cake. And people taking embarrassing selfies. So, yes. A very happy Birthday to me. La di da. 

Now that I’ve mastered the art of letting go, here’s something I realization hit me with the force of a strong espresso – or maybe a couple million espressos – you don’t NEED blood to be a family and that when you bond, you just bond. My colleagues have been amazing and I can’t thank them enough for loving me the way they do. 

It feels pretty darn good. Just to let go.

Four Reasons Why You Should Watch The Edge of Seventeen

That’s a mouthful of a blog post title. But hear me out. If you haven’t seen or heard of The Edge of Seventeen, I suggest you stop reading and go watch it online or something. 

I could actually give you twenty reasons – and counting – why you should watch Hailee Steinfield in action. I mean, there’s no skin show, there’s no violence, basically no nothing. But this coming-of-age film from last year left me with a pleasant taste in my mouth. Left good vibes. Now, I don’t normally fangirl over a motion picture unless there’s a hunky dude (read: Armie Hammer) in it. But this movie? Well, here go my four reasons. 

1. There’s a Nadine inside all of us. 

Ever had a nasty zit pop up on your cheek, battled awful haircut choices and wondered if God was even up there? Thought so. Deny it all you want, but Hailee Steinfield’s character Nadine is SO freaking relatable it makes your ribs hurt. Ah, the awkward moments. I know I’ve been there. Sometimes I still go there. Not proud of it, but hey, I’m owning up to it. 

The classic, “Are you even up there?”

2. Woody Harrelson is UNPARALLELED. 

You’ve all seen the many, many sides to Woody Harrelson. He’s played a gay character, a magician with sass, and he played a serial killer. Heck, he’s even played a character called Tallahassee and gotten away with it. And how. In The Edge of Seventeen he plays a history teacher called Mr. Bruner, who’s badly judged by Nadine, who he refers to as “an especially badly dressed student.” Harrelson’s Bruner is so funny, and so sweet at the same time, and he reminds me of my English teacher from middle school when I was a pudgy teenager suffering from well… issues. 

The bit where Nadine comes to him saying that she was going to kill herself and that she needed to tell an adult about it, and Bruner tells her that it was funny because he was writing his own suicide note at that same exact moment is so. Damn. Freaking. Funny. 

Har har.

3. We all do pretty dumb ish and it slaps us in the tits.

Nadine strongly reminds me of myself at this point. My best friend thinks so too. He saw the movie, and the first thing he said was “Wow, that’s so YOU.” Let me explain. So Nadine is lusting over this boy so hard, and after her best friend falls in love with her brother, Nadine snaps on the inside and sends a pathetic long – and graphic, I might add – text, to the object of her desires. She realises the text sounds and looks and feels utterly dumb as heck and then accidentally sends it. 

Which leads to the dude calling her sweet and Nadine being Nadine – well, most of us women fall hard when a guy calls us sweet rather than addressing us as ‘sexy’ or ‘hot stuff’ right from day one – thinks that the guy is into her too and she basically leaves a trail of destruction in her wake trying to look cute for her date with the Dude. Turns out, he took her graphic text seriously and only showed up for a good old boink fest with the very virgin Nadine. 

And we all know how most guys are around virgins. Score! 

I’ve actually been in the same boat. While I didn’t send a graphic text, I did go on a blind date with a grizzly bear of a guy that tried to choke me to death with beer-breath. You all remember that story, if you’ve been with me from the beginning. 

Yes, I still feel this way thinking about THAT. 

4. #GoodVibesOnly.

We all have an Erwin Kim around us who we ignore, mostly unknowingly. Until the day Erwin shows us that life isn’t so bleak after all. Here’s to happy endings. 

See? There’s hope.

If you end up watching The Edge of Seventeen, do let me know what you think of it. Also, our girl Hailee has been killing it everywhere lately. The Red Carpet. The inspirational songs. The hair. I’m living for it. Also, 2017 needs to slow down some. It’s crazy how it’s June already. Oh Lord. I’m getting old. Welp. 

King Arthur: Painful to Watch 

Normally when I watch a Guy Ritchie movie, it never fails to disappoint. But I have to say that King Arthur bombed for me. If you’re familiar with Mr. Ritchie’s works you’d know just how much of a genius he is. Take Sherlock Holmes 1. Even The man from U.N.C.L.E. Which happens to be one of my favorite movies of all time. 

Back to King Arthur, there’s so much deviation from the original storyline it makes you go dizzy from not being able to see what’s going on. I also had great difficulty actually concentrating on the dialogue because some people in the back seat were annoying as fuck. 

I went to watch the movie with two of my colleagues and needless to say, they were unimpressed too. King Arthur tells the story of how Uther Pendragon is forced to give up his child – in a boat, only to be found by by prostitutes – to be raised in a bordello. Holy. Now, I don’t claim to be a research scholar but wasn’t young Arthur raised by Sir Ector? Also the fact that there happened to be humongous snakes, eagles, rats and what not – brilliant graphics, no doubt – that basically ate up everyone’s screen time. I am not kidding. 

Between Jude Law playing the role of the cold, but oh so devilishly sexy Vortigern with absolutely nothing to offer but some well placed scowls, and David Beckham’s two second cameo, there’s just eagles and more snakes and bits of slow motion Excalibur scenes that leave you with a pounding headache. I remember begging for the movie to end so I could just go home and watch maybe puppies frolicking on my computer screen. 

Also, spoiler alert: ALL women die in the movie. The only woman that makes it to the end is the sorceress Mage who, despite her tiny frame and inability to string two sentences together, holds up quite well. The rest of the movie is just bits of drab cinematography that would have fared well had it been a tad bit more cheerful. If you’re a fan of Aidan Gillen, you’d be delighted to know that his character Goosefat Bill is quite the charmer. I am serious. While we are on the topic of monikers, I still don’t get it why Mr. Ritchie decided to include characters like Rubio and Back Lack. And why he picked Freddie Fox to play Rubio, when he’s been stuck in my head since 2011 as the guy that played King Louis the sixteenth in The Three Musketeers. 

I’d never recommend this movie, and I wish Mr. Ritchie would miss Madonna less. Maybe missing her has gone straight to his head. *sigh*
Good night, folks. Y’all sleep, and I’m going to watch some puppies. 

Keeping Jenny 

This is a true story about the time a couple of my friends decided to leave their Labrador with me. 

A little background info about the said Labrador before we dive in – Jenny was beautiful. She was five months old, and her owners happened to be a really lovely couple, then in the fifth year of their relationship. The guy adopted Jenny as a surprise present to his girlfriend. How did I come into the picture? They needed someone to look after their puppy, they cast a look around and settled on me. Which was all very good. 

Except that it was not. Not even remotely. 

I am the kind of person, who, to be very honest here likes pets and children from a distance solely because I am terrified of dropping them or feeding them at improper times. I’ve never had pets before and I’m bumbling and awkward around them. Except maybe hamsters because they don’t really require a lot of attention. 

So, keeping Jenny was a huge decision. The first night she refused to eat anything or even sleep in the same room as me. When I took her out for a walk, she wanted to run off and play with the street dogs. And chase pigs. And I had to fight for my life to keep holding on to her leash. All fifty pounds of her, fighting to break free and get away Lord knows where. I might add now that it was freaking scary because it was past midnight and it was freaking deserted. 

The next day was, if possible, an even bigger nightmare. I had to leave her alone with my aunt and get to the hospital like at 8 AM. And my aunt being the amazing person she is, locked herself in her room, leaving poor Jenny alone in the hall. With no milk. And no water. And no food. And she gave me a very angry call right in the middle of the dressing I was doing to give me the telling off of the millennium. 

“Your friend’s dog has pooed all over the place and peed all over the place. Come home right now and clean this mess. Or you’re gonna have to take this dog and get yourselves a new apartment.”

This, from an aunt that was actually staying over at MY place (just so I’d have someone to give me company when I needed some TLC). So what did I do? I finished up with the dressings as fast as my hands would let me and ran home. The stench in the living room was unbearable. Poo all over. And there was a giant puddle of pee right in the middle of the hallway. And there was Jenny, skidding on her own pee to come say hello to me. 

My heart melted. 

I don’t know why, it just did. I gave her a hug, pee and all, and reached for some rubber gloves. All the while ignoring my aunt that was going off on one angry rant after the other. It was just me and Jenny, in that moment, just us and the understanding that had unknowingly passed between us. When she looked at me with those eyes, I knew. She’d felt unwanted the whole time. And she felt bad somewhere for all the trouble she’d caused my aunt. Or maybe that was me imagining things probably. 

Later on while we were watching TV together, Jenny and I and my best friend, Jenny kept scratching at her ear. We noticed that it had gotten infected. And her owners had been forgetting to take her to the vet. 

That’s when I realised: it wasn’t easy being Jenny. And she was a helluva fine dog, not one bark nor one whine out of place. Not one bit of drama. I’ll say she was super high maintenance but she deserved every bit of it. My broke ass loves her forever. Hair on my sofa, the drool, the pee. All of it. 

Get Out Of My Hair!

I’ll be the first person to admit that my family is pretty lenient when it comes to things. A LOT of things. Like, I can get away with eating ice-cream for breakfast and stuff myself with donuts after. 

I can pretty much wear shorts and go out. No problem. Can pretty much date whoever I want to as long as he’s not being a douche to my mother. Like I said, pretty lenient. 

When it comes to hair, however, it’s a whole different story. My mum literally turns into Medusa, stony face in place. She goes from being a Mom to being a rampaging Momster on the loose, employing her choicest swear words. Which range from Whore to Monkey Face. 

So I got bangs and had my hair cut really short. Just two days back. I’m not exaggerating when I say all Hell’s broken loose. 

So my Mum thinks I’ve cut my own bangs and my hair will never grow back. My Dad thinks I’ve secretly had plastic surgery done. My cousin thinks I need to get my eyes tested again because I probably have zero vision left. And before I knew it, the whole family – and extended family – had gotten involved. 

Even my friends, and their bitchy on again, off again partners. One girl went on to comment I looked like a Malaysian. I guess this is why our fucked up country will continue its poopy journey down the drain of regression. The average Indian is a bleeding racist and I don’t understand why looking a certain way is a bad thing. I don’t know what looking like a Malaysian looks like really, because we are all human and we look like people, but I said thank you anyway. 

And then there are people that literally won’t get out of your hair like it’s their hair you’ve chopped off. 

Whoever knew that getting a haircut would break so many people’s heads? Happy Tuesday, folks. 

Flashback Friday: Vegan Blood?!

Oh my gosh, you guys. 

The stuff that I go through working longish hours in the ER is – needless to say – crazy, at the very least. But also, oh so entertaining. I happen to work in a Government hospital in the middle of nowhere and it explains a lot of things, but it doesn’t explain insane demands that some patients make. 

From asking for a specific nurse because of her religion to fighting over leftover blood vials, you see it all. 

Of course when you’re doing ER room duty, you need to transfuse blood when necessary. We have the blood bank attached to the ER room practically, so it’s technically super easy to get hold of blood bags. But oh no, this is India and we never ever ever ever ever follow the rules, heck do we even know what rules mean, and this is precisely why we never get anywhere and we’re stuck at the bottom of the proverbial food chain. Aah, the digressing begins. 

Now back to what I was going on about…

Last weekend I had this patient come to me with a strange request. He happened to be vegan, and very strict about his lifestyle. Which possibly led to his severe anemia, not judging. While I transferred the blood to the little vials, he very seriously wanted to know if I could possibly arrange for vegan blood. (!!!) I’ll admit, that threw me for a second. 


It’s hard enough arranging donors with AB negative blood group, and a vegan one on top of that? Cray cray up the molehill. So of course I had to lie through my teeth and convince him that the blood that was arranged for him totally belonged to a vegan person. Ah, the lies I spew at work will someday toss me through the gates of hell straight into Satan’s bubbling hot cauldron. Poor butt of mine. 

The things we do for patients, sigh. 

Not really.