“Freedom is not worth having if it does not connote freedom to err. It passes my comprehension how human beings, be they ever so experienced and able, can delight in depriving other human beings of that precious right.”

Mahatma Gandhi

I really hate it when people tell me what to do.

Like, I really, really hate it. A lot.

So much so, in fact, that I completely lost my mind in ’02 when my parents unceremoniously told me to pack all my shit up and move 3,952 miles south, against my will.

… I didn’t manage to regain a sense of normalcy again until the day I graduated.

On that note, it’s been a long-standing point of contention for me how people have systematically enjoyed ordering me around like some sort of human puppy. They don’t even try to hide it.

Stupid Dictator 1: SIT.

Minty:  Sure! Where? (I hate you.)

Even worse is the fact that I have, for the most part, been begrudgingly functioning as a human doormat, completely ripe for self-righteous bi-peds to prance into my life and order me around as they please (although this doesn’t necessarily become clear until a moment of retrospection arises, which happens only as often as it takes for my patience to crumble).

Stupid Dictator 2: EW. WHAT ARE YOU WEARING?

Minty: …Uh. Durno. Should I change? (What are YOU wearing, you ridiculous FOOL.) What about this top? Better? Yes, no? (JUST DIE!!!)

I blame my conformist, Asian upbringing, I really do.

I also hate how in the end, it really is just all my own fault for being such an unintentionally spineless pushover.

Stupid Dictator 3: DON’T (insert verb here)!!

Minty: (STAYING SILENT. There is no appropriate response I can ever hope to formulate that will not hurt your feelings.)


Well, that’s it, I’ve had enough. After a quarter of a century I am finally throwing in the towel, and kneeing my patience in the back FOREVER.

Yes, that is correct, you heard me!


Guess what?

If I want to dress like a clown princess on crack, I’M GOING TO DRESS LIKE A CLOWN PRINCESS ON CRACK.


You there, with your yappy flap: Silence! I’m fabulous.

If I want to paint my face like a nut-job, I’M GOING TO PAINT MY FACE LIKE A NUT-JOB.


It’s my face, and I’ll draw on it if I want to.

If I want to wear a pizza on my head, I AM GOING TO COMMIT TO WEARING A PIZZA ON MY HEAD.


What can I say? I love pizza, and it functions as a hat better than you’d ever have imagined.

If I want to buy that $10,000 dust bunny in the shape of Johnny Depp’s silhouette, YOU BEST BELIEVE I WILL OWN THAT SEVERELY OVERPRICED BALL OF DEAD HUMAN SKIN ART, SOONER RATHER THAN LATER!!


Durno. Could be anybody.

I feel liberated already.

Here’s to 2012!

xo, Minty