Some Good Advice

a friend of mine said that if blogging is my outlet, i should keep at it. it's not a bad idea, really. i almost gave up on blogging because i thought it was a complete waste of time and energy. but it's actually pretty liberating.

anthony robbins said that, "if your life is worth living, it's worth recording". things happen to us everyday that we simply don't remember a few months down the track, let alone remember for years to come! but really, everyone should keep a journal. i know a lot of people out there who don't, but there really isn't a down side that is significant enough that should keep one from reliving one's life through the recording of it. so here i am, in my pajamas, on a monday night, typing away. what do we record of our lives?

i don't want to remember how i caught the flu and had to stay home for a week because the doctor thought it might be of the piggy persuasion. i can go without remembering how tiring it is to try and do a few simple things while you're feeling like absolutely crap. and i hardly want to remember looking into the mirror after having slept for 14 hours straight and discover that i still hadn't managed to completely remove my eye makeup from the day before when i was at work! but here are some things i do want to remember:

my husband was home with me, since the doc thinks that it is more than likely that he would have contracted swine flu from me (if it indeed was swine flu). so we actually stayed home together and took care of each other, which was lovely.

our dog, curlie, was most sympathetic to our condition and did not complain as much as she could have when we couldn't really find the energy to play with her.... although she did get lots of rubs and treats as compensation, and we let her run wild out in the yard every other hour (it was raining and muddy so we have been keeping her indoors).

i made chicken soup and my soup-hating hubby actually asked for some and enjoyed it. wow.

i spent most of my time huddling under the covers to keep warm, but always had a book handy and caught up on my reading.

i learned that in the middle east, people raised pigeons specifically to be eaten, and that it tastes heavenly when stuffed with coucous and red dates. and now siv and i have made it our gastronomical goal to consume the delicious roasted winged rat. thanks anthony bourdain.

i have had more time off this week than i've had in the last 9 months. it was fabulous even if it meant i spent most of it sleeping.

i rediscovered my inner glamor queen on my last day home and put on some of my expensive makeup to make myself feel better after looking and feeling ill for the last week. it was a 24-karat glamor moment (pic attached).

i had a little bit of fun towards the end :). i like that.

welcome back!

i started this blog 3 years ago, and i'm only just returning to it now. since my last entry in 2006, i have gone through the following changes:

- i'm 27 going on 28 this year
- siv and i got married in perth, but have yet to have gone through the wedding rituals in malaysia
- i have been a receptionist/junior administrative assistant to a local fashion company in fremantle, and am now working in sales (catering specifically to retailers and let me tell you, it's hard selling to a sales person!)
- we have bought a house
- we had to give up our cat
- we decided we couldn't live without a pet and brought home a puppy... she's a retriever, now nearly a year old and is a 70lb lovable pain-in-the-caboose
- i have decided i never wanna work for someone else ever again... so i'm looking for ways to make my millions
- i have not been at all tempted to go club-hopping or boozing in the last 2 years at least
- i have rediscovered my reluctant dependency on optical support (ie. dorky glasses)
- my cooking has improved. my loved ones no longer have to test a portion of my home-cooked meals on a poor unsuspecting sucker from off the streets ("come, my pretty... have a bite, just a bite of this... um... chicken..?")
- can't think of anything else, which probably means that my brain has aged about 20 years since... i can't remember when

alright, i hope you've been updated and have found these factoids rather amusing. i will work on changing my blogger format, so hopefully by the time you read this, it will NOT be some background of a sunset on the beach. ciao ppl.

Marriage Looming in the Horizon

okay okay, so i've been a tad slack in my online journaling.. but hey, a girl's gotta work albeit it be school-work. anyway, we have set a date to get married legally. don't worry your little heads off, the wedding won't be for a while so there's still time to get organized and save up for a trip to malaysia, if you were indeed planning on coming. but as for the paperwork, we're doing it on december 6th at the registry... and it's a bit scary to be honest.

i find comfort in being the eternal child; but as the wrinkles get deeper, your boobs get droopier, and you start noticing the grey hairs popping up out of no where, you can't help but think "maybe i should start acting my age". but what is 25 anyway? more responbilities, greater pressure to move up the corporate ladder, your biological clock starts ticking a bit louder, increased number of frantic calls from your relatives asking you when you're start the next generation of obsessive-compulsive stress bunnies, aka mini-me's (my mom's not quite so anxious about being a grandma just yet, hence my relatives are picking up the slack).

how the hell do women prepare to be wives and mothers anyway, especially with the added drive to become successful career-driven vixens or yummy-mummys whose opinions and ideas the world could take seriously? there are no manuals as to how to deal with the transition from single-and-happening to married-and-grownup. that's what it feels like... when you get married, you grow up. it's time to take hold of the reins and go go go. time to get serious with your career, consider buying a house/property, make babies, and deal with 5-day-week pilates sessions, anit-cellulite diets, eyebag creams, and anti-ageing formulae. instead of showing off, you have to cover up. gone are the days of slinky bias-cut dresses and powder-press compacts, of funky nail colors and g-strings, of clubbing and impressive tolerance for alcohol.

you know what, it doesn't have to be that way. who the hell made those rules huh? i'm turning 25, not 52. i'm gonna have my cake and eat it too.... i will be happily married and still be young and fun. i don't have to wear control-top underwear or orthopedic flats, i don't have to care if my co-workers think i'm juvenille for wearing electric-blue nailpolish to work (in fact, it might not be so bad considering i'm gonna end up in the fashion biz, but it might not be so fashionable to wear electric-blue nailpolish this season). my mom's in her late forties and SHE'S still young, fun and "hot" (i quote one of my guy friends from high school), so who's to say i have to be old and frumpy just because i'm getting married? while i know some women who think they can let themselves go once they get married, i say it's important now more than ever to keep fit, look sexy, and have fun with your life together. we can't allow ourselves to fall into a rut just when life is getting interesting. god knows marriage won't be all smooth-sailing, but it's a new chapter in the cliched book of life... so it's up to you how you wanna write it. it's up to me how it want it written.

Blurry-Eyed Blog

dear blog, it's been... god knows how long since my last blog. things haven't been the greatest, though i shouldn't complain (i do anyway). i have roughly 7 more weeks left of my course (official in-class weeks), but the end looks very unattainable.

see, that's my problem right there (and men don't think we solve our problems by "aimlessly ranting". bah!). i look too far into the future and don't focus on the present or even enjoy it, and that's hurting me. grass is greener on the other side i suppose... i'm not really thankful for what i do have... i have time off during weekdays, i don't have to wake up at 6:30am five days a week (two out of five 6:30 mornings is ok), and i haven't had to deal with obnoxious colleagues or mightier-than-thou bosses (although i've had the odd job here and there with culinary perks... what can i say, i'm ruled by my stomach).

thing is, i never expected to still be finishing courses when i'm 24. most ppl my age have already had several jobs, saved some money, bought a car on their own, and maybe supporting the rest of the family monetarily. i feel like the poor slob cousin who leaches off parents and doens't have to worry too much about where my money is coming from. eew, mental picture of self as a leach... not very attractive.

The "M" Word

Since my last entry, I’ve been on holiday to Melbourne and Sydney with my boyfriend. During our four days in Melbourne, he went from being my boyfriend to my fiance. He proposed, and I said yes :).

Since then, it's been an odd mix of emotions. On the one hand, I'm ecstatic to be marrying my long-time love... on the other, I'm incredibly freaked out by the notion of being a working woman, a wife, a sis/daughter-in-law, and possibly a mother in the future. No, I'm not pregnant. That's been the latest misconception of my situation lately so I feel inclined to clear myself of such a charge.

I was never the type of girl who dreamt of her wedding when she was a child. On the contrary, I dreaded the day I would ever have to plan my own. my very solid dream was for us to run away to Europe, get married, have our honeymoon, then turn up one day and tell my relatives, "guess what, I got hitched"... followed by a very painful tongue lashing, fire and brimstone and all.

See, it's not so easy growing up in an Asian family (albeit nontraditional as we are). Marriage is not just a celebration of the union of two individuals, of two souls... it is an opportunity for everyone to get decked out in their very finest in their attempt to out show everyone else in terms of wealth, class and "taste", and maybe have a brawl or two the night before the ceremony. Unfortunately, it always end up looking like a first-rate circus paid a visit but nobody laughed at the clowns. then there's the tea ceremony (Malaysian Chinese wedding; for all who are looking confused at this point), the blessings, the pre-wedding dinners, the all-night mahjong sessions, the smoking, the drunken upstarts, the other young women who wear the same color as the bride or wear BLACK (FYI: the traditional bride wears red, and black is just BAD at any Asian wedding!), and that annoying aunt who's trying to set you up with some nephew of hers (you’re related by marriage only, though that used to be different too). That’s not the scary part. The scary part is that you are only 15... And he's probably had a job, an ex-wife with five kids, and is going through his twisted version of a mid-life crisis.

The only happy memory I’ve ever had of a wedding such as the one I’ve described, were the red-packets filled with countless dollar bills. Hey, when you're eight, two ringgit goes a long way! you get an extra boost if you were the flower girl too... you get an extra five from each elder (ten from the bride and groom) for carrying the massive white train and flowers. If you're lucky, you might get a brief moment during which you might actually carry the ang-pows given to the bride and groom and feel how thick THOSE are (that's usually the mother-of-the-bride/groom's job, or maybe an aunt). Who knows, you might even be able to put black ink in your annoying aunt's tea and get away with it. You ARE the flower girl after all :).

Luckily for me, I might not have to suffer through such pre-marital trauma. See, my husband-to-be is Indian, and while it's generally the same thing (the pre-wedding dinners, the smoking, the booze and drunken upstarts), I won't have to go through it as a flower girl. I’m the bride, and this bride has a LOT to say about what's NOT gonna happen on her big day:

- There will be a limit to how much alcohol there will be at our house (his parents don't drink so needless to say there won't be any at their house),

- Everyone will NOT be pinching my cheeks telling me what a beautiful bride I make,

- I will NOT be wearing some gigantic white fluffy tent,

- my tea set (mom just bought it yesterday) is NOT some god-awful chili red, but set in beautiful Thai design in soft pink, black and gold,

- Since my mom and my future sis-in-law are buying my jewelry (and they know what I’m like), I will NOT be displaying horrific rented costume jewelry that is caked with moldy make-up and the genetic leftovers of other brides from the last 20-odd years,

- That annoying aunt who tried to set me up with that “well-established” nephew of hers will NOT be there, and neither will the nephew,

- If that aunt and/or nephew do turn up, I WILL put ink in their teas and get away with it,

- Smoking will NOT occur inside the house,

- I’m booking myself into a hotel to get a good night’s sleep, AWAY from the mah-jong ruckus,

- I’m doing my own make-up,

- We’re NOT serving genuine sharks-fin soup at the reception

- There will be NO karaoke-ing at any point during the reception

- I’m not having a “bachalorette party”, it will be a “bridal shower”,

- We will NOT be inviting 1500 people to the reception,

- My brothers (or anyone for that matter) will NOT try to drink my husband-to-be under the table the night before the wedding,

- There are other things I would add to my list, but I can’t think of them right now.

So there, that’s all the “conditions” I want to put forth to everyone involved in the planning. It’s not hard, just please don’t screw up one of the biggest moments of my life…. No pressure.

What A Woman Wants

that's the age-old mystery, isn't it... what do women want? i don't know about the others, but i can certainly tell you this: i don't always know.

at some point in my life, i remembered wanting to be an artist... until i found out that most of them don't get anywhere until they're dead like monet and picasso and van gogh. then i remembered that i'd recently thought i'd end up a evangelical missionary, living my life traveling and spreading the word whever god told me... problem with that was that i never really listened too well. oh, and what about that time i wanted to join the military and study post-traumatic syndrome and help dozens of sufferers lead normal lives... that was a seriously glorified dream wasn't it since i feel like i need my own personal shrink 24/7. see, i wanted different things at different points in my life... all those dreams of being someone special, someone who could make a difference in the world and leave a legacy for my future children and grandchildren (until i decided that i wasn't sure if i wanted those either). when really, they don't really matter to me anymore.

i don't care if i ever have any paintings hanging on the walls of the lourve, or if i win the nobel peace prize when i cured rageaholism all over the world, or if a whole nation was saved from spiritual condemnation because i became a charismatic tv-preacher who converted millions. all i really want... is a little peace in my life. all i want is simplicity, an uncomplicated existence during which i'm loved, cared for and about as i would care for others, simple child-like trust between me and those i hold close. a little peace, that's all i want. i don't care for a great career, or a mansion with the electronic trimmings, or recognition, or an inspiring legacy for future generations to look up to, or even a lot time on earth... all i want... in my life right now... is peace. i don't want to think about what i'm gonna do in the next few years in terms of careers, jobs, money, and life in general... i just wanna live each day as it comes, appreciate all the precious minutes that i do have instead of worrying about my diet and my health. i'll do what i have to do to survive, but at least let me live... if only just a little.

How Much Longer?

sometimes it really pains me to think that i'm hurting those i love by hanging onto my past. i don't mean to. i just kinda allowed myself to obsess about it and i couldn't stop obsessing. i keep thinking back to my high school days and i analyze it to death... how i did, what i did, whom with, when, why, and how good/bad it made me feel. i just couldn't stop. i couldn't let go and "grow up". i'm like peter pan... wanting to stay a child forever, without responsibilities, without fear, without the nightmares.

but we can't be peter, not for very long. i'm pushing 25 and i have to get my life together. i have to salvage whatever's left my relationship and move on up. he's right... i tend to think and behave like a child. i still feel like i need that extra special consideration cuz i'm "emotionally stunted". when i saw my highschool roommate, i loved it... it was as if we never graduated and left school (except when we talked about what we'd been doing since then). we did all the things we used to do, we felt like kids again. the kids who tried to be adults aren't trying anymore... we ARE adults. we just don't wanna be. despite all the cultural knowledge and experiences we've gained, didn't do anything for our emotional growth. we just kinda skipped highschool and went on to taking responsibilities for ourselves and those we love... and now... we've slipped backwards. we missed out, and we want it now. but we can't have it, that's the tragedy. if we were to be children, be teenagers, when we're really supposed to have degrees, jobs, careers, that special someone, taxes, mortgages, quarter-life crises and the like... we'll fall behind, again. the world won't wait for us to have our time just pretending to be teens, they'll wonder what the hell is wrong with us, and demand that we get with the program. so how do we cope? how do we cope with having lost a part of that natural growth stage?

if anyone's got a good answer... and i mean, it's gotta be REAL good... i'd love to hear it. because as of now, i have to get with the program, and it's killing me to do so.