Showing posts with label Far far away. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Far far away. Show all posts

Honeymoon?


My husband and I, believe it or not, haven't had our honeymoon yet.

As soon as we got married, we had to move into a new house. The house move took our time, energy and our entire saving. Then we went to KL, Johor and Singapore -with my whole family. Then I got pregnant and the whole vacation/traveling bug came to an abrupt halt.

Then recently, we went to Singapore for a little getaway but when you bring a baby who WAS TEETHING LOUDLY, one week felt like a million years. We came home and badly in need of another vacation from that vacation.

Our wedding anniversary is coming up and when I asked my husband what's the plan, he wistfully said he wanted to go somewhere with me, just the two of us. Aww... That's so sweet.

Wait. What? Just the two of us? What about our son?

Since Kaisan was born until now, I have not spent one night without him. Despite him being a handful, I cannot for the life of me imagine being away from him. How can I sleep at night knowing he's crying somewhere looking for me? Or worst... What if he can't remember me after being away from him for so long? ARGH!!!

This clingy mom also has another reason for not leaving her little bundle of terror -breastfeeding. I am not going to lug around a breast pump to a resort and spend most of my time pumping at the beach's changing room. And what am I going to do with all the milk I pump? Feed it to the sharks? Make mocktails?

I don't know, man. This is tougher than I thought...

But I admit, we do need a time out and badly in need of a TLC.

Hmmm? Hmmm...




The kind of wisdom that parents should know about before having a baby


Me and my sister went to KL recently with the intention to shop until our wallets vomit slugs. We brought along the babies and a nanny and we were so excited to FINALLY. GET. THE. CHANCE. TO. BUY. NEW. CLOTHES. NO. MORE. SHABBY. OLD. SHIRTS. GOODBYE. MATERNITY. PANTS.

But oh how naive we were when it comes to traveling and shopping with babies.

We woke up at 8am. We fed the babies, gave them a bath, put on nice clothes on them and play a bit and ALL THAT TOOK 3 FREAKING HOURS BY GOD. Then the mothers took shower, get ready, make-up and all which TOOK ONLY 15 MINUTES OR LESS.


By the time we're ready to go for our so called BREAKFAST, it was already noon. We hailed a cab - reached our destination -went looking for a place to eat -oh wait a minute- Kaisan need to change diaper -detour to the nearest baby changing room - done? Okay, let's go have our brunch- oh wait a minute -Alina is fussing for milk - detour to the nearest nursing room and spend half an hour there -done? Okay, let's go have our FOOD BECAUSE I'M SO HUNGRY SINCE IT'S ALREADY 3PM WHERE DID THE TIME GO? By the time we finish eating, it was already 6PM and we need to go back to the hotel to put the cranky babies to sleep.

Mission to shop till we drop -accomplished. Well, not exactly. We dropped dead exhausted by evening. When we reached Miri, we brought nothing back except lots and lots of dirty clothes and extra stress wrinkles on our face.

Single ladies; enjoy your freedom to shop while you can. Once you have a baby, online shopping is there for a reason.





True Story.


We were in Singapore for 5 days and 2 days in JB and we came home with:

1. 3 books for myself
2. 3 books for Kaisan
3. 1 book for husband
4. 1 Cookie Monster plushy toy for Kaisan
5. 1 wrist watch for husband
6. 1 T-shirt for me from F21
7. 1 lounging pants for me from Cotton On
8. 3 souvenir magnets for friends and family

And best of all, we brought along a camera that we didn’t use at all. All photos taken during the vacation that I parked in Instagram were all from my iPhone. And by all, I mean, oh maybe 10 photos or less.

Was supposed to go to Singapore Zoo and the bird park but it was raining the whole week so blah lah.

So we went to Marina Bay Sands to watch...


THE HARRY POTTER WORLD EXHIBITION!!!!! (Dolores Umbridge is a pink skank)

No photos were allowed to be taken inside boohoo crummy.


The infamous Monster who captured my son's heart.

Then we went to JB.


And me and my bestie in JPO! Pretty nice place for window shopping but since it's out in the open sun, phew! Hot! We went to Legoland but since it was still not open for public, I told Aveen, we'll come back again next year. Can't wait!

So that's about it.

Gone were the days where I would take every single photo at every single place at every single minute for memory sake. Well, I DID took a photo of the bird shit on my arm the day I was at Orchard Road…


My photography days are obviously over. Oh hello handy and useful iPhone, you screwed all cameras big time.







Sanity is now below the normal level.


This post-vacation mood at home is really depressing. Add with a super duper cranky baby who is having fever, diarrhea and flu, the atmosphere at home is like a wet dirty dark cave with bats that screams earth shattering, “HOLY GUANOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO” before they eat your face. I choose to sleep as early as 8pm just to run away from the heavy gloomy feeling at home.

My fever broke the night after we reached Miri but Kaisan only get his fever on Tuesday. He has been OH MY GRACIOUS so cranky throughout our trip in Singapore and Johor Bahru that I was contemplating on the best way to auction him on Ebay without getting arrested.

At first I thought he was just uncomfortable with the changes of environment or unhappy because we messed up his nap schedule. I told myself that he’ll be back to his cheery self when we’re back in Miri.

But after 2 days at home, he still is a baby banshee, screaming and crying and refused to take his bottles. Oh it is sooooooo stressful! He refused his formula in the bottle and only wanted to be breastfed. I thought he developed a new dislike towards his formula and dreading the fact that we have to go on a crazy rollercoaster ride finding him a new formula again like before.

So I told myself, screw the formula. Let’s give him water. But he STILL FREAKING REFUSE TO PUT ANYTHING IN HIS MOUTH EXCEPT MY NIPPLES! THERE. I SAID IT. I’M CRINGING INWARD KNOWING MANY PEOPLE I KNOW WILL READ THE N WORD AND IMAGINING IT GROWING ON MY FOREHEAD WHEN THEY SEE ME. WHATEVER.

Since Kaisan is also having really bad diarrhea, we had to find any means whatsoever to get water down his throat. We even tried to feed him milk via syringe! That didn’t work much because he THREW A HUMONGUOUS TANTRUM THAT SHOOK THE WORLD AND AWAKEN THE MIGHTY KRAKEN.

So, no water. Food, no problem. He loves his porridge that I made and from there at least I know he’s not starving. As for water, I just breastfeed him as much as I can and occasionally I give him ice Popsicle that I made with just water and let him suck on it. He enjoys it and for once, he’s quiet and for me, it’s a big relieve because at least there’s water in his body.

Then last night, while trying to feed him his medicines, guess what? I FOUND TWO TOOTH PEEKING OUT FROM HIS UPPER GUM! No wonder he has been a ferocious man-eating bear. He’s teething! And, wait. TWO? I am so going to have a pair of bleeding nipples…

That pretty much explains why he refuses his bottles. Maybe the tits are giving his gum pain. I don’t know. That’s just my rough guess. I’m willing to take any explanation right now because I’m super exhausted. Lack of sleep. Helpless in trying to make it easy for Kaisan. Tired. Bla. Bla. Bla. Wait. This is not about me.

So anyway... He lost a lot of weight and it breaks my heart to see him whimpering for me whenever I come home. My poor baby… I don't like it that he’s sick but I love that he’s super clingy with me, wanting to be hugged and cuddled all the time. I miss my giggly, sunny son.

Get well, my sweet. Kaisan’s Tooth, GROW FASTER AND STOP GIVING MY SON PAIN.









Back from a week long vacation...


The inhabitants of Casa D’ Balqiz is settling back into their regular post-traveling routine. The mother is down with fever. The son is grumpy with stomach flu and the father is super exhausted taking care of 2 patients.

Posting will resume tomorrow or the day after or whenever or WHATEVER but in the mean time, I’m going to wallow in our post-travel blues. Oh. Boo. Hoo. Us.





B-b-b-b-but he promised!


.... That he won't grow up too fast!


Kaisan, weren't you just a baby like five minutes ago?

Now he's sitting, eating and talking (gibberish)












NO SHIT?!














I was in a very good mood last week.


If you haven't follow me in Twitter, you miss alotta shit from me.


Last week, I was tweeting in my usual glorious bluntness and candid self. Love me.











P/s I just came back from... somewhere and I am still recuperating after the long trip. Slow updates ahead. Bear with me. Give me money. Thank you. Love you to bits!



The crap you miss last month



Apparently I forgot to hit the publish button last month therefore as a result, a post that is half moldy and stinky and rotten to the core... But hey, at least I spotted this early and hit PUBLISH as soon as I reread everything and think... hmmm... Okay. Definately "Publishable"

You see, I was trying to blog via my iPad. Let me tell you one thing about blogging via iPad... NOT. EASY. YO. I think I give up when I was tired of wrestling with the coding and drown my sorrow by stuffing my face with chocolates.

Blogger, you made me wish I had been using Wordpress all these while...

And since Adobe Photoshop (PS Express) app does not have watermark function, I had to use other app to watermark my photos. I used Impression. Pretty useful actually.

 

Turtleneck by MNG
Necklace by Axxezz



 

You would THUNK I have the time to apply fake lashes and all those shits on my face just so I can look gorgeous in snow? Fat chance, dude. Those lashes, contact lens and makeup are effects I created using Fotolr Photo Studio HD app.
When I first discover this app, I went gaga over it. I even ‘prettyfied’ my mom’s cat, Tepet Shawshank Redemption Hook Shot the Third. 
 
The before photo




 

See? She’s so cuooote! Like plastic! (Mom is so gonna murder me)


Moving on!


 


Checkered shirt by F21


Sunglass by Gucci (Bought it at a super low price that I asked the salesperson, “Is this really original or you’re an unethical human being who wants to sell me fake sunnies at RM400 a pop?” No, of course I didn’t ask her THAT question. Why the fuck would I ask that question in a Gucci boutique? But I admit I was irritated that Ms Salesperson gave me the I-are-baboon-with-no-money-to-afford-shit look. So I bought it to spite her. I don’t think I can cry WIN in this situation, huh? FML)

 

Same shirt. Just different color. I bought 2 of it coz it makes me feel… young (Oh for crying out loud) And I was not happy with that gigantic zit on my face. I swear it was so huge, I can use it to hang a photo frame. Or a lantern while you’re at it. Or hang yourself if you feel like it.

 


Blouse by Zara


Each and every time my hairdresser gives me a new haircut; I have this urge to howl at the moon or at anybody for that matter. I always, always hate my hair after I walked out of a saloon after a wash/blow/dye/cut. Once I’m out of my hairdresser’s eyesight, I will start messing my hair around just to get that I-just-woke-up-from-a-night-of-orgies-with-my-cats look. But this time, I didn’t mess it up. I took a photo of it first AND THEN I messed it up. Win.
 
Last photo. I promised.

 

This cracks me up. That’s my brother next to me. We were checking out this new army shop in Bintang Megamall, Miri and spotted these awesome masks. I think it’s a mask. Whatever. I want to get it so I can wear it on a bike ride with the mister but I think it’s illegal to give pedestrians on road a cardiac arrest. So I didn’t get it *muttered STUPID PEDESTRIANS SO WEAK GO DIE* *Emo*

Bai.















A Unique, One of Kind, Rare Finding in the History of My Life


Be forewarned: This post is fucking long. Make yourself comfortable, make sure there’s plenty of drinks and food around you coz by the time you finish reading, it’s July 2012.


************************************************************

I had a wonderful birthday this year. One of the best I’ve ever had in my entire life. Ok, maybe when I turned 18 was also one of the bestest birthday celebration EV-ER but there was no gifts from friends and family. Only lots of partying. By partying, I mean, the whole month of April, every day and night, party nonstop. I was like a younger version of Ke$ha back then. Minus the slutty outfits. Or not. I can’t remember *whistling*

So, as you already had guessed, I went to Melaka on my birthday. It was an impromptu decision by my parents and been a life long desire of mine to step in Malaysia’s most historical city.

There, I found something so unique that as a birthday gift to myself, I bought it without thinking twice. It's a bound feet shoes.


 


 


 

It’s really tiny. I can’t even fit my fist in it.


It’s actually a shoe made for ‘bound feet’ women. Cool eh?

There is only one place left on earth that sells this shoe and it’s at Jonker Street, Melaka, Malaysia. I was so enthralled by this rare, unique and one of a kind shoes and maybe, maybe one day this shoes will worth something, eh?

At the shop:

 
Why yes, that hairy arm belongs to me.


 


 
I was told that this shoe is a pattern usually made for royalties.


 
My sister with the royal shoes.


There’s a story/article about bound feet that was given together with my purchase and since it’s so fascinating, I’m sharing it here with you.

Enjoy!

*****************************


“To speak of her bound feet to a Chinese lady is a little like asking a Frenchwoman about her clitoris!”

This was a Sinologue Marie Holtzmann’s way of enlightening us on the difficulty of our mission: to meet in China the last women who had their feet bound and to record their account of this custom which has tormented millions of women for more than a thousand years.

Hotzmann was convinced, at least that we would be able to find these Chinese women, even thought this practice was officially banned in 1911. Knowing that the feet of infant girls between the age of two and eight years were usually bound, it was possible that 90-year-old women today would have live through the ordeal. Taking into account the vastness of the country, it was probable that the ban was not respected overnight. In any case, we had to try to locate these women before it was really too late.

It is winter in Beijing. It is close to minus 20 degrees. The roads are either deserter or crossed hastily by people bundled up to their eyes. Where could we find these old ladies?

We try to contact people from various associations in charge of old people. Their tone is very cold. We were at an impasse. The Chinese do not like foreigners’ involving themselves with such sensitive subjects because they are ashamed of this customs and d not wish to expose themselves to possible criticism. We try friends of friends. Many reveal to us that their grandmothers have bound feet but it was out of the question to meet them, they affirm that they could not enthusiastically speak on this subject with foreigners; they themselves had never dared to bring up this topic to them.

Thus, we decided to hang around the old, traditional parts of Beijing, the ‘Hutongs’, where the majority of inhabitants were old folk. We finally notice a grandmother whose footsteps are characteristic of a woman with bound feet. This means that she walks like a duck, pressing on their heels, her feet shaped like a fan...

What is more surprising is that she walks quickly, running even, behind her granddaughter whom she is accompanying to school. The perseverance of our translator finds us at her home. A feat, because to these old people indoctrinated for many years with Maoism, foreign involvement remains somewhat of a taboo, all contact with them having been forbidding for such a long time.

At 72, Elegance wears the Mao jacket, and lives in a single room where a fridge and a TV are enthroned. Here, one washes himself or herself outside, even in winter. When we finally bring up the question about her feet, after a flash of surprise, she speaks with disconcerting ease. Like any old person who likes to talk about the past, she seems to appreciate being able to pour her feelings on this subject.

Everything is square about her; her height, her face, her straight hair, it is clear that she has lost all taste for vanity a long time ago. She compares, laughingly, her two small feet with those of her neighbour, who came over to join us very quickly, curious to see foreigners visiting in the neighbourhood. The latter is from the South and had, she says, “the good fortune to escape this barbaric custom”.

Elegance started to bind her feet at the age of six years. “Because I found this very beautiful. I suffered a lot when binding them and my mother told me, “Don’t cry. If you want to stop, you stop!” During this time, few women still did it. Even my father didn’t want me to continue. I did it almost against their will. I found my mother’s feet very beautiful, even if they caused her hurt. I couldn’t place on the floor the front of my feet and I still can’t today.”

“I had difficulty finding shoes of my size so I made up the difference in size with stockings,” she explains to us while to our great surprise, she takes off her slippers and large number of stockings to reveal her feet covered, however, with a pair of socks. Only her big toe and first two toes are flat, the others are completely curled up under the soles of her feet where a strange, large ball has formed. “The bones of my toes are all broken. My friends have advised me to cut them off. It seems that it becomes less painful but I am afraid of doing it.”

She stopped binding her feet when she was 20, “when it became unfashionable”. Then she adds, whispering, as if she should never say such a thing, “at that time, I was a little sorry that it became out of fashion!”

Elegance was to be the only one among dozens of women we met who still wanted her feet bound.

According to American historian Dorothy Ko, who studied the life of 16th century Chinese women, we can only separate “the complexity of motivations and sentiments of women. To have bound feet was the most important event in their life and culture as a woman. To bind them was to accomplish the supreme art of femininity. Despite all the weight of mate erotic attraction placed on bound feet,” she writes –this custom would never have lasted more than a thousand years without the determination and pride of the women throughout this ordeal.

The origin of this custom dates back to the 10th century. Stemming from the desire of dancers wanting to have feet the size of a lotus flower, this practice was quickly imitated by courtesans, joined by women of the richer class. To have bound feet became a sign of social distinction. To confine women in the family to the boudoir was to prove that they did not need to work. Thus, their movements are limited.

In the end, this custom was adopted by all social classes, even the peasants and farmers, where the women we met came from, like Zhen, still careful of her appearance at 74 years of age and who dyes her hair ebony black. She remembers that all the women of her family had bound feet. For the majority, it was dreadful, as they had to go to work in the fields in spite of everything. “I remember that my mother could only work on her knees; standing was too painful for her”

Zhen started to bind her feet in 1930, at the age of eight. “I didn’t want to do it! And my mother did not want to force me. But family intervened. They said that i had to bind my feet; otherwise I would not find a husband. During that time, even if a girl was very pretty, she was despised if she had big feet and no one would want her. My father left to work in Beijing and returned saying that feet binding was over, it was longer done. But the rest of the family did not believe him and insisted and convinced my mother to force me to do it.”

When she started to bind my feet, I had to keep the bandage on night and day, but this became so unbearable that I took it off at night. Thus, my mother made me a pair of shoes which I could not remove. I shouted, cried, but she did not give in, and I had to continue. At the beginning, she placed a huge stone on the arch of my feet to break the bones more quickly.

“We used clothes of between three to ten meters long to bind the feet. We curled up all the toes, except the big toe, under the arch of the sole so that the foot would be perfected pointed. The bandage, firmly sewn at the beginning, led the flesh to decay, thus preventing the foot from growing bigger. The feet were often bloody. We continued binding our feet during the rest of our lives, to maintain their abnormal shape.

“In the beginning, it was hell, as each day, the bandage became tighter and tighter,” recounts Chun, 78 years old, forced as well by her mother to bind her feet. “But once the toe bones were broken, it became less painful.”

The smallest feet we saw were those of Xiu, the eldest of them all. She was 90 years old and her feet were barely longer than her hand. They were so minuscule and so deformed. Her terribly arched feet have become ankles.

Xiu has a lot more difficulty walking than the others and supports herself almost all the time with a cane. “My largest fear is my great-grandchildren. I only need to be pushed slightly for me to lose my balance.

Like all Chinese women, she only had one explanation for binding her feet. “It was the main condition in order for us to find a husband. And to marry was our only future,” she summarizes. This sentence, ‘to find a husband’, was thus the theme of their childhood, and of their suffering.

But why was it s important to their ‘husbands’? Why did they like bound feet so much? These questions produced laughter. A rather cheeky laughter. And they never said anything more, inferring that their laughter was sufficient eloquent. How could we miss the importance of feet in Chinese sexuality? Chinese men appreciated bound feet so much because they had a fundamental erotic value. Every and anything was written on this subject. It was claimed that bound feet muscled the vagina, giving men the feeling of penetrating young virgins.

What is certain is that the foot was an object of desire. That a woman allows a man to nonchalantly caress her bare foot was the signal that a relationship could start between them. But if a man touched them by accident, it was worse than having touched her breasts of buttocks.

The handling of feet was essential prelude to sexual act, a perfect stimulant, as described by Howard Levy in his book, Lovers of the Lotus: Story of the strange erotic custom of bound feet in China.

“Their ears were in love with the sound of women’s footsteps, whereas their noses inhaled the odour of the perfumed soles of the feet. To achieve ecstasy, the lover would bring the foot from his hand to his mouth, kiss it, suck it, insert the foot into his mouth until both cheeks are full, chewing vigorously on it. The lover would press the foot lovingly against his chest, knees or genitals. He was often willing to wash the feet of his adored one, liking to cut, without hesitation, her toenails by himself, and even ate watermelon seeds and almonds which he placed between her toes.”

Men were apparently not turned off by the smell of the decayed flesh of the feet. The odour, when a woman takes off her shoes, was enough – when someone faints – to revive him. It was, it is said, more effective than smelling salts! Women who were well-off, drenched their feet in perfumes, more to cultivate the special fragrance, it seems, than to drown out the original smell.

All these charms which caused Chinese women so many tears suddenly became out-of-date at the beginning of the century. And if voices were raised in past centuries to condemn this custom, they had to wait until 1911 in order for the proposals of intellectual Chinese, made through the influence of foreigners, especially furious missionaries, to carry sufficient weight to provoke a ban.

But this practice would still continue for years in the most remote regions. It was thus that we found a woman who had her feet bound in 1943! Ying lived in the Shandong region, in the mountains surrounding the town of Jinan. She was 10 years old then, 63 today.

“In my village, peasants refused to have their daughters’ feet unbound. It was my mother who forced me to do it. Nevertheless, she suffered a lot herself because of her feet at work. When she enveloped mine with the cloths, I couldn’t walk a step. Little by little, I succeeded in walking again when my bones were broken. I cried every night. Sometimes in order not to suffer, I secretly removed the bandage. My mother beat me but I didn’t care”

It was, she says, the “Liberations’ which ended up freeing her of her bandages. And her husband, she recounts, who was overjoyed to have married a woman with bound feet, encouraged her to stop. “It was like that, during the “Liberation”, everyone changed their opinions and the fact that I had bound feet suddenly became a source of embarrassment to him”

Yin, 78, did not ask the opinion of her spouse to stop a year after her marriage at the age of 20. “It was no longer the fashion and then I didn’t care I was pretty or not because I had already found a husband”

For her as well as for others, removing the bandages proved to be another ordeal. “It became more painful because my feet, used to being protected by cloth, touched the round directly. This hurt them and I often had bloody feet. Our 90-year-old grandmother waited till she was 60 to remove her bandages. First of all, I didn’t dare to walk as my bones were completely broken. I was afraid of falling all the time. I no longer had any balance. I decided to take away the cloth little by little, meter by meter. In fact, I really had to learn how walk again.”

In ceasing to bind their feet, all of a sudden, their years of torture no longer meant anything. They were taught to be proud of their tiny feet. They were then taught to be ashamed of them. And consequently to be ashamed of themselves. Some were blamed publicly during eradication campaigns. Others who bound their feet in order to find a husband, found themselves rejected because of their small feet. With the arrival of Mao, they became the ‘victims’ and the ‘symbol of a feudal and barbaric era,’ expressions which they would mumble in chorus, like a well repeated speech.

Faced with the absurdity of having bound and then unbound their feet, useless objects of permanent suffering, one of them asked us what the use if investigating this topic. “It would change the fact that all the bones of my toes are broken. Unless you have a solution?”

All, with the exception of Elegance, tell us their relief to see the end forever of the era of bound feet. Xiu, a 90 year old grandmother, puts it beautifully to our 20 year old translator. “You can live like a flower having the right to bloom, you are fortunate. For us, in our ancient society, our youth had a bitter taste. I am happy for you.” She was shocked to learn that our translator, in fact, also has bound feet. “But it is not even in fashion!” she insists. “Simply, my mother and I found that my feet were too big. So, for 6 months, I bound them to reduce their size. I suffered a little but not much! And today, my feet are a lot more beautiful!”

To her knowledge, she is the only to have done so. But as she has never dared to reveal that she bound her feet, it is possible that her friends have hidden this fact from her as well. For a young Chinese woman today, small feet are still considered a criterion of beauty. A custom that lasted thousands of years cannot be forgotten in less than a century.



Excerpt from an article by Catherine Moniajon.



(I've so many rude and sick jokes running in my head while reading this article that if I write it down here, man, I can't imagine the hate mails come pouring in. Instead, I just shared it with my sister and we had cramp stomach laughing our ass off. Yes, yes. We're sick that way)







Hate when I don't update? Well, join the fucking club


The last trip really saps my energy. This will be the last. No more traveling for me. Plus, I’m broke. I’ll be eating pebbles from now on. Please, if you see me, don’t stare *Do the crazy eyes*

And since somewhere in my mother’s side of the family married a real honest to goodness sloth, the genetic resides me in. BUT OF COURSE. No surprise there. So as a normal half sloth, a quarter human and another quarter peanut, I hereby attached a story I wrote on the plane. Just to keep this blog alive and kicking and do the Russian dance. No grammatical check, no photo, no nutty funny ha-ha remarks, no whatever God! Why am I TAKING SO FUCKING LONG TO TYPE ALL THESE LINES?

So here goes nothing…

*******************************************************

On a flight back to Miri, I met a real life DICKHEAD.

I was boarding when I asked a male flight attendance to help me carry my luggage to the overhead compartment. He gave me a look which said, “You gotta be kidding me”. I glared at him and handed him my luggage. He sighed and said, “Can we do this together?” Like what the fuck? Are you a man or are you a pussy? Fine, I helped him heave my luggage up and to my despair, though my luggage was not heavy (less than 5kg –my butt cheek is heavier than that!) it was too bulky to fit in the compartment.

Again he gave me his I-didn’t-get-laid-last-night-that’s-why-I’m-such-a-vagina-today look and said I have to put it underneath the seat in front of me. Whatever, bitch. So there I was trying my best to shove the luggage underneath the seat but as I said, it was too bulky. I then decided to take some things out and put it on my lap (books, not bras and panties for your delicate information) and shoved the luggage again underneath the seat and it fits in nicely.

Before the plane take off, one of the senior flight attendance spotted my luggage and asked me why I didn’t put it in the overhead compartment. First of all, I was exhausted. I just had a two long, grueling days attending a course that exerted all my brain cells to the fullest. And then I had to catch the earliest flight as possible so I can go straight to the office to take care of some urgent work. My rational self wanted to say, “It’s my fault. My luggage is too bulky. Just like your eyes. My, how toady you look today, sir” but as I said, I was tired so my demon self snarled and pointed to the dickhead flight attendance.

Dickhead then went all whiny. He said, “HER (oh me oh my, save the accusation for another day will ya!) luggage is TOO BULKY so I yetta yetta yetta under her seat bla bla bla (I couldn’t be bothered to listen more so at this time I already switched on my iPod)”

The senior, obviously didn’t believe Sir Dickhead Lancelot, asked for my luggage and I handed it to him. Dickhead complained, “YOU’LL SEE. IT’S TOO BULKY IT WON’T FIT IN!” and the senior flight attendance single handedly raised it to the overhead compartment and… IT FITS IN NICELY! BOOYAH DICKFACE!

The look on dickhead’s face was enough to make me do a little triumph jig but I just smile demurely.

If only he know I took out some stuff out of my luggage…

FTMFW!



P/s Dickhead avoided me the whole 2 hours and a half journey. FIST BUMP!




FANTABULOUS BIRTHDAY TRIP EV-ERRRR!!!


As I mentioned previously, my Cambodia trip was cancelled due to circumstances beyond my control (FUCK YOU TO HELL AND DAMNATION FOREVER AND EVER WHATEVER YOU ARE THAT I CANNOT CONTROL SO YEAH I AM A CONTROL FREAK GO EAT DUNG YOU JUDGEMENTAL SON OF A BABOON!)

*Cough daintily*

Since it’s practically a tradition that I haul my butt far, far away from Miri on my birthday, I decided to drown my sorrow in KL and shop till my wallet decided to commit suicide by drinking gallons of gasoline.

My mom and sister accompanied me as the Mister had to work (Oh cry me a river boo hoo hoo) and we had A FANTABULOUS TIME!

There were few surprises in store for me.

First were of course, the birthday gifts.

iPAD 2 FOOOKEEEERRRSSS!!!

Then gifts from the Mister (you can see all of em in the previous post. Why, yes. Yes, I am gloating and showing off. I hope you DO ENVY ME COZ YOUR JEALOUSY FEEDS MY SOUL MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA moron HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA fuckers HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA idiots HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA chickadees HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA butt naked HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA)

Please… I just had coffee. And… coffee made me… AAAAIIIIIYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYYAYAYAYAAYAYAYAYAYAYAY!!! *running around a circle* Dudududududududududududududu *Do the Egyptian dance* Dudududududududu… Dududududududududududuuudeeeee. Yeah coffee does that to me.

*Please wait for half an hour for caffeine to ride out*

Wait.

Wait.

Wait.

Look at snails.

Wait.

Wait.

Wait.

Bite snails.

Wait.

Wait.

Wait.

Waizz….zzzzz…z.z….zzzz…..

Oh where was I?

Second surprise was the two unexpected trips to BEEEP and BEEEP (I bleep it coz I am a buttface)

Those who follows me in Twitter, knows where I spend my birthday, no?

Those who don’t but super jeee-ni-yus with buttcrack that runs for miles can identify where I was JUST BY LOOKING AT THE PHOTOS I AM IMPRESSED PAT BACK PAT BACK PAT BACK PAT BACK COUNT HOW MANY TIMES I TYPE BUTT IN THIS ONE POST ALONE AND IF YOU GUESS IT RIGHT I’LL PAT YOUR BACK ANOTHER 10 TIMES HOW ABOUT THAT EH?!


 

There is no better place to be when you turn another digit older than to be in a historical city which coincidentally celebrating its city day the same day as my birthday.

 


MNG white singlet
Unknown brand black jumpsuit
Gucci sunglass
Coach handbag
Sketchers shoes


Then went back to KL to shop until my wallet had a cardiac arrest (that’s the reason why the Mister got me a new wallet -EXCUSES!!!)

 

MNG red turtle neck
GUESS? jeans
F21 black scarf
Sketchers shoes
Coach handbag
3kg weight gain I am so fat it's fucking ridiculous.

And the next day, off to the next destination where it was -7 Celsius, cold like a mutherfucker, snow everywhere and yes, snow in April. Booyah!





Then I went back to Miri dragging along flu, cough and cold fever. Thanks to all the friggin' snow fight me and my sister had.

*Groan*


Bai.



FANTABULOUS BIRTHDAY HAUL THIS YEAR!!!


 


1. Nine West black ankle boots
2. Marc by Marc Jacobs iPad bag
3. Apple iPad 2 (INSERT SQUEEEEEEEE!!!)
4.  Christion Dior (Dior Addict) lipstick & lipgloss
5. Channel eyeshadow
6. Calvin Klein Jeans wallet
7. Zara, Topshop, F21 & Guess clothes I dumped all in that one giant paperbag


1, 2, 4, 5, 6 & 7 from the Mister
3 from my family


THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU!


I LOVE YOU GUYS!!!





Day 25 ~ A picture of your favorite day




My third and last time to Universal Studio, Singapore.

The mister's first and I don't think will be his last to Universal Studio, Singapore.









DAY 4 ~A picture of your favorite night



A picture of your favorite night



1. It was our first New Year celebration together

2. It was our first vacation together (accompanied by my sister and few other friends along BUT OF COURSE)

3. It was my first time applying fake lashes (The girls and I was cackling like a hyena the whole time we were applying our fake lashes as many times we almost glued our eyes shut!)

4. Though there was no fireworks that night (boohoo) we still had a great, memorable fun time

5. It was also the first time I scare the Mister when I was hit by cruciatingly painful period cramp that night. He was helpless as he doesn’t know how to help me. But now? W-O-W. At any sign of injury/pain/cramp/sickness, he’s like a lightning and next thing I know I’m bandaged/shove with medicines/tucked in bed/hot water/massaged/etc. My own personal E.R!



Let Me Tell You About The Time I Had My Fortune Read by a Palm Reader


I was accompanying my mom shopping at One Utama Shopping Mall, KL, two months ago when I stumbled upon a palm reader (also known as fortune reader) booth. Bored to tears of not knowing how to kill time while my mom shops, I casually asked how much and how is the procedure.

The lady said per reading is RM50.

Fair.

I’m not a bit curious on what my future hold coz I’m VERY confident that I will be okay, rich and successful and happy and so on and so forth. But I wanted to do it because:

1) I was bored

2) I want to rest my aching feet after many hours of walking from one shopping mall to another

3) I want to find something to blog about (my blog was collecting cobwebs that time)

So I paid the RM50.

The lady fortune person took both my hands. Asked me my birthday and what time I was born. Then she scribbled something and looked at my hand.

These are the things she said (I shit you not! I had my mom wrote everything she said coz as I said, it’s a blog material)

(Read it in an old Chinese lady’s voice. Quivering and all):

“Born in the year of a Rooster with Metal as Elements, you have the patient in handling difficult things.

According to the lines in your palm, your life foundation is stable and that your life line is long. Means, you’ll live a long life. However, the lines are not deep enough. This is because you have small illnesses that come and go. Mainly your nose. Sometime in your life, you will have to undergo a major operation. But don’t worry. It is not fatal. The surgery is necessary for child birth (Caesarean)

Your head line shows you are a very intelligent woman. Very clever and very careful in making long-term decision. But your head line is too long. This means you day dream a lot. Your head is always in clouds.

Your love line shows you are a very romantic person at heart. You are very sentimental. You want to hear nice words in a nice way. But you are also very moody, very emotional and very idealism (love of beautiful things). Your love line has a small island. This means you should marry late. If you marry early (below 28 years old), your marriage won’t last. But if you marry now (late), you will be much stable and happier. Your love line is secure so don’t worry. After marriage, your luck will sky rocket. Money comes easily to you and you’ll also bring luck to your future husband. You enhance his career and financial aspect. You will have 2 children.

You will be a very socially active person. But you cannot be a housewife! You will be bored and miserable. You need to be on the move and be in charge. That is why you make a very good leader. You can manage people very well but people cannot control you. You are very successful in your career.

You are also a quick tempered person but a very independent one and can be your family’s financial advisor. When you make a decision, you are very firm and determine about it. Nobody can change your mind once you set your mind on something.

However, you have two personalities. You can be positive at one time and in the next moment, you can switch into a negative thinker.

Your traveling line is very long. This means you always travel and always make money too.”



If I went for this thing few years ago, I would say hell no. I know back then my confident level was below a gnat’s knee and my self-esteem was shaky. I would be scared silly, believe everything the fortune teller said 100% and occasionally found rocking myself near a corner in a fetal position. All that BEFORE my fortune read. Imagine after… It’ll just be one hell of a FUN FACTORY.

But now, now I’ve grown. I know where I stand and where I’m going. I’m not afraid of the future and I readily embark on life’s many unknown journeys. So hearing my fortune read that time didn’t do anything except making me smile. I mean, if you already know who you are and a stranger come to you and give a list of who you and everything describe you perfectly, do you;

1) Gasp and exclaim wonders and ask, “Are you by any chance related to THE David Blane?”

2) Scared out of your wits and have nightmares of an idle hand chasing you around your bed?

3) Scream “AM I ON TV? IS THIS A REALITY SHOW WHERE THEY PULL A PRANK ON UNEXPECTED PEOPLE? AM I FAMOUS? WHERE’S THE CAMERA? HOW’S MY HAIR?”

4) Accept it and let it go?

I accepted it and let it go.

Do I believe in it? Let’s just say I believe in myself. What she described were the things I already know about myself and I believe that I am going towards a better, much happier and successful richer life.

Even if she said I’ll die hanging from an Eiffel Tower one day or monkeys gonna steal my purse away, I would say, WOMAN, YOU NEED TO GET YOUR HEAD FIX! CAN’T YOU SEE WHO I AM? (Standing proudly with my hands on my hip and my nose flaring) I AM MAGNIFICIENT! I AM A SUCCESS! I AM A SURVIVOR! I AM A LUNATIC! No no… I mean, I AM AND WILL ALWAYS BE GREAT! So fat chance that I’ll believe her.

The only part that piques my interest was the “island” on my Love Line. That I shouldn’t get married at an early age. That I should get married late. Late as in after 27-28 years old. Now, THAT part, I find very interesting *Grinning*

Ciao!



It's NOT a Honeymoon!

I don’t know which part of spending WISELY or lessen my traveling bug that didn’t get through my head properly coz… I’M GOING TO CAMBODIA THIS APRIL!!!



The mister: Are you sure you want to go to Cambodia on your birthday?

Me: Yes! Yes! Yes! (Jumping up and down like a chipmunk on meth)

The mister: You know what’s in Cambodia right?

Me: Yes! Yes! Temples! Angkor Wat! Phnom Pehn! Siem Reap! (Still jumping around)

The mister: You’re prepare to walk miles and miles, get dusty, not two but maybe 10 beggars approaching you asking for money and no luxury hotels for you to stay?

Me: Yes! I want to see one of the wonders of the world! I’m prepared to face all that just to touch a 12th century old temple!

The mister: Okay. I'll get the tickets. Happy advance birthday



Random Conversation

Friend: Going anywhere this year? Honeymoon? Vacation? Course?


Me: Nothing yet. Still too busy with work to think of going anywhere.

Friend: Oh, okay. I’m going to yetta yetta yetta (Sorry, my mind was drifting far, far away. Occurs very often when I’m not interested in the conversation)

Me: What did you say? (Something she said snapped me back to reality)

Friend: Your birthday in April. You’re not listening aren’t you? I was asking whether you plan on going anywhere on your birthday, like you usually do.

Me: (Gasp!) Oh shit! I think… Holly chocolate macaroons! I DID buy myself a ticket last year to fly to KL in April this year! (Rummaging through my emails) Tada! Miri-KL for 6 days!

Friend: (Snorting) So much for your “no traveling this year” huh? So, just KL?

Me: Hmmm… damn, KL - Phnom Penh is really cheap! O-o… I think I know where I’ll be going this April… (Grinning)

Friend: Typical.



Currently...


... Busy rereading all Harry Potter books
... Busy with the Mister's sister's wedding 
... Busy with WORK, WORK, WORK!
... Busy with my wedding preparation
... Busy with LIFE! 

Yeay me!



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