Therapy it seems

I used to think that anything worth reading that came out of me was borne of some sort of pain or confusion or anger. It seemed I made sense trying to make sense of the things around me, if you get my drift.

Now, not so. Sure, it may be more emotive to speak out of turbulence, but I realise that a writer will always write. Even where there's nothing to write about. Like a silent chatterbox. Like how a story teller will always tell stories, even when there isn't much of a plot. Magic is conjured when it needs to be.

So after one of many hiatus (is there are plural for this word?), I'm back. As usual, with nothing much to report on except that no, my life is not in jeopardy. No heartache, no soul searching. No drama.

Just clear blue waters and the gentle lap of waves. Life is rather stable actually, which is  nice. A tad boring? Not at all! I have a dirty little secret to share. Oh, it's so dirty.

Every weekend, I strip down to my undies and I hang upside down. Like a bat. With a bunch of girls.

OK, so the 'secret' is out. I'm a pole dancer.

Love it.

I mean I try. Pole dancing is to my stable soul, what rock climbing was for my turbulent soul.

Cryptic yes. Way to cryptic for shallow me. But how true.
So I opened my mind and my heart, and my legs too.

I can honsetly say that pole is one of the hardest things I've had to do. Both physically as well as mentally. But gees, it's way more therapeutic than a shrink (trust me) but not cheaper. Definitely not cheaper. Who would have thought that skanky leather, lace and string would add up to so much?

Fat Ass

I know I'm not supposed to be here but just wanted to say one last thing.

Let me begin by announcing just how grossed out I feel.

I've not stepped inside a gym for over a year now (did I mention I live right opposite one?) except for that one time a few weeks ago when I attempted to cancel my membership. Then a cute guy told me not to and I totally caved, hence I still pay RM170 a month for nothing and the fact remains that I still haven't worked out in over a year.

Secondly, I've been eating every meal as if it's Christmas lunch. Christmas 2010 itself was a mad frenzy of roasted carcasses and token vegetables, then Sri Lanka was a trip down a never ending buffet line (3 buffet meals a day!). Back home it was catch up on Chinese New Year feasting with "get-together" banquets back to back. Honestly, how is it a "reunion" when we see each other all the time anyway? It really falls hard on people like mw who have more than one family, several groups of friends and work in PR for a living. Then came this stupid Beef Wellington crusade I embarked myself on, just 'cos I have an oven now and feel the need to hold a bake off (against myself!) with pizzas and pastries and scones etc etc too much! too much!

I'm a self-confessed glutton but honestly I can feel, feel my skin stretching to accomodate the additional content. Right now, as I type, I'm actually taking shallower breaths, because my diaphragm will surely pop otherwise. I am not exaggerating.

The last straw was last night. RM30 all you can eat Korean stone BBQ and steamboat.

Fark, I wasn't even hungry to begin with (having had dim sum for lunch, Belgian fries with aioli at Ben's for tea, and a pastry visit to Lavein for fun). But shit who can deny human nature when there are rows of food for the picking and a bargain to be had.

The food wasn't bad per se, but there's something so carnal about raw meat lyng around and all that grabbing and cooking and stuffing. And after I'd stuffed myself so full that I had to stand (as sitting actually hurt - I swear I had to stand with my hands on the table and lean forward, but not too much as to induce a reversal of food flow down my trachea), I felt so so disgusted. Suddenly the smell of burning meat and the flies were overwhelming and I just had to get out of there, except my friends had just got more live prawns to throw into the boiling soup.

When we finally got to paying at the counter, I saw two things that really did it in for me. Firstly an aquarium filled (and I mean packed) with frogs (you know those edible ones Chinese people just can't seem to get enough of: directly translated they are known as "paddy field chickens" - ya rite!). They were all clamouring against each other for air - all uniformly looking heaven-ward as if performing their own last rites instinctively knowing the end was imminent. Then, someone made an order for two and the waiter pulled out two frogs and one by one, held their legs in his hand and slammed their heads on the edge of the aquarium before skinning them and cutting them up for dunking into hot, sweet soup.

Oh Lord, am I never ever going back there again!

I'm so grossed out by myself and all the food that I've eaten that my humble slice of rye bread this morning looked suspiciously like a slice of rib eye. You know what they say about abusive relationships. That sometimes you have to sink to your lowest before you find the strength to say "enough is enough" and get out. Well, in my case, I'm pretty sure I'm sunk (from sheer weight) - the year is almost closing its 1st trimester and it's time to work out, eat healthily and buy lots of makeup in time for the year-end parties!

PS. My bikini is actually too tight now :( and it's Lycra...!

C' yazzzz

I'm sick to death with emotion. Negative emotions to be precise. Simply bored to tears with it. I think I've been drowning in it for most of my life - mine, others' - too much.

Negativity-free, I'm outta here. Is it a phase? A new turn in the path of life? Who knows? Short of filling this blog with home DIY projects and badly-spelled words, there are only so many ways I can express how content and lucky I feel right now with everything. It would be narcisisstic to go on and on about it. Almost like an advertisement to be jinxed.

So its time for a hiatus, yet again. As they say, no news is good news, right?

Fare thee well poppits :) Till wheneverrrrr...

C'est La Vie!

My birthday is coming up. And I am asked what special plans have I got? What achievements have I to celebrate?

Yes, it's nice to have a party but to celebrate my life? I've had a happy life, reviewing it makes me happy, makes me laugh out loud in many parts and tear up in others; overall, it fills me with pride and a sense of excitement anticipating what's to come. My life is special to me but only for now and only to me.

Another year and all the cliches apply. How fast time passes, how things whizz by us and how we age, subtly but surely.

If there's anything that I can deduce from my little time here is that while we might think our own lives are so unique, they really aren't.

While we feel our pain and joys so very acutely, it's really going on all around us, everyday to everybody. We might think our own trials and tribulations are so very exclusive to ourselves, they aren't and all the cliches apply.

Meaning, we are spinning with the world and living it as we were made to do. Churning the cycle that churns us, a worker amongst a thousand ants. Never throwing a spanner in the works even though we might think we do with our humanity and evil. Whether a man is murdered , someone ran for Presidency or started a revolution. Someone somewhere at sometime or other has done it all before. Buddha, Hitler, Ghandi.

And so we will come and we will go. Be reduced to ashes only to be reborn to do it all over again. Just like everything before us and everything to come.

Why? Well there is the eternal question that will never be answered.

Working the wheel. A worker amongst thousand ants.

The Black Eyes Peas & Thosai Masala

I don't really know how I got here but I never ever imagined that I would be the sort to be tied down to a mortgage, to taking holidays in really short blocks and goddammit to be enjoying my work.

It's soooo not what I planned but sooooo working out quite well.

So I guess the whole point is to not bemoan my poor slave-like existence but to actually enjoy life under the whip. The perks of not dreading work everyday, of loving my glorious new flat, of feeling a little bit proud when I give wads of cash to the bank every month, of beating the jam by 5 precious minutes everyday, of substituting my social life with a Black Eyed Peas sing-along in the car as people in the bus stare, of gossiping with fellow Mums and actually enjoying it as intellectual conversation.

Going off on a tangent, I was sitting in Nirvana this morning with my thosai masala when I realised I was surrounded by Chinese New year decorations and "gong xi gong xi gong xi ni" blasting from the speakers.

Life is loveable in all the little things.

Moving Is A Nightmare

O.M.G.

Am finally in!

But...

...am all over the place and can't get the TVs to work. Oh noooo!

Glad to be back at work and away from the mess though.

Merry Christmas To You!

It's the first Christmas Eve I've had to work. Yup as people are running around doing last minute shopping or basting whatever's in the oven, I'm here at work (obviously not working) but still here nonetheless.

In fact, it's the most un-Christmassy Christmas. Buying paint, ceiling fans, kitchen cabinets, wall fixtures, blah blah and completely indulging in ordering people around. There's the spirit of giving...giving orders to be precise.

But, I'm pleased to say that moving flat has not put me off jingling bells. In fact, it's made me want it even more. All the trappings of a commercial Christmas: Santa stockings, candy cane, brussel spouts and Mariah Carey's new Christmas album. I embrace them all!

Poor me, I'm basically robbed of a Christmas. Everybody's off travelling and torturing us with pictures of them skiing or slugging wine in some vineyard. Thank you FB for that. Then Mum realises that Bun and I are actually fully grown (and a bit more) and therefore sees no need to celebrate - "I'm not Christian, why should I celebrate Christmas?", she says. My reply that there is absolutely no shame in celebrating a commercial Christmas did little to sway her over-principled Capricorn sensibilities.

And to make it worse, Fellow Corp Comm Practitioner decides to get married tonight...and so there will be rendang and bandung in place of stuffing and mulled wine. Very inconsiderate I told her...

Then there is the matter of this weekend. Which I shall spend painting walls - yes, all by my lonesome self unless Rich Boy Upstairs or Freaky Single Dad really do mean their offers to help out. Do or die Khaki will be transformed to Dior Grey by Sunday evening.

And to add insult to injury, I have to dress up for a fancy dress party on Christmas night! Firstly I don't do dress ups. Secondly, instead of dozing off in a haze of brandy butter, I'm going to have to put on a very tight dress, place a wig over my head and attempt to look like Helena Bonham Carter - or general crazed person. And its Italian food...!

To save me from this very bizarre Christmas, Thank The Lord for Cougar who leaps to the rescue, albeit it reluctantly (because she will be hungover from tonight) with a fabulous Christmas lunch at The Y Mansion. There will be people, presents and potatoes (ie. turkey)! Yippee! So there is Hope after all., which is the overall message of this post and of er, Christmas in general....

So, Wishing A Warm Merry Christmas To All, especially to those freezing in most parts of the world...Cheers!

O.M.G.

You know the episode in Glee Season 2 when Finn discovers Grilled Cheesus? Well I think its happening to me. But without the grilled cheese.

An explanation for non-Glee fans: Finn discovers an image of Jesus on his grilled cheese sandwich and proceeds to worship it (that's TV for you!) and lo and behold, his prayers come true! Not that I'm drawing parallels between my life and fictional TV plots (Grey's Anatomy is NOT real!) but lately, my wishes have been coming true and I can't help but wonder: could God be finally answering my prayers?

Let me give you an example. As you know, I've gone all homey because I'm doing up my humble new abode (incidentally, it's themed: narcissistic explosion of self indulgence - LOVE). I''m pawing the pages off Elle Decorating and all I see page after page are the most grogeous divine have-to-have Madeline Weinrib carpets in everybody's insanely tasteful homes. Want want want. Unfortunately the cost and hassle of buying it all the way from NYC leaves one with a depressing outlook of Ikea padded floors. I wept an imaginery tear and mumbled for God to be fair.

Scene Two: this afternoon, I bump into Hippo's ex girlfriend and she tells me her family business is customised carpet manufacturing. "We copy all kinds of carpets, including those in magazines," she proclaims, like an office-attired Gabriel handing out her business card. I'm sorry but if that's not God answering a prayer, I don't know what it is.

And then I wished wished for a chandy in the dining room. Of course, all that stupid crystal costs a bomb but lo and behold, after a quick prayer, I find not one but like an entire range of affordable chandies ON SALE in SSF and get this... my colleague whips out her SSF Corporate Card entitling me to EVEN MORE DISCOUNT.

It's freaky and spiritual at the same time.

Then I prayed for thinness and the doctor proceeds to prescribes thyroid medication for weight loss without me even asking! OK so I haven't lost any weight but I can see that God is trying (not His fault that moving stubborn fat is like moving an entire mountain range).

And then! I prayed for a cold holiday seeing that so many people I know are off to lovely wintry vacations and I'm stuck chasing lawyers in stifling KL. Guess what He sends me? An impromptu weekend in Fraser's! Complete with horses, roast dinners and strawberry jam! I'll take it!

There are so many incidents. Honestly, far too many to recount. Like wishing I had a social life and then receiving an invite to hang out almost immediately. Or wishing for money and then somebody writing me a cheque the next day. It is truly freaky and beyond coincidence. God is FINALLY listening!

So Bubbit asked me the other day, if I could have wishes what would they be? So I told him for children to stop starving, for people to stop fighting and last but certainly not least, WEALTH FOR ME!

Perhaps I should start buying lottery tickets?

Trippin'

I'm tumbling fast down the cool slide.

My two favourite places to hang out in are Kamdar and Ace Hardware. Textiles and paint. Life is complete. 

Bye bye bars, restos and cafes....kissing your snooty hoochies bye bye.

Last night I stayed up late (well, 15 minutes beyond designated 10.30pm bedtime) to watch You Tube videos on: How To Paint On Laminate.

O.M.G.

Not about how sad that sounds. But O.M.G! Laminate can be painted??

Yup, treat it like any wooden furniture that has been painted/stained. Sandpaper or paint strip it, prime it and paint paint paint!

The flat is now hunting ground for potential victims. I've already identified 8 pieces (laminated and wood-stained) to be repainted/restaind, including my massive bed frame. Poor little maid-en...she's plenty busy! Gotta work for her super expensive plane ticket home to the Philo this month.

While on a roll, lightning did strike (dementia or genius?) - I shall paint my bedroom walls....

Salmon.

Woot woot!

If I had some land, I'd plant some vegetables

It all started when Edna got me a tray of kampung eggs direct from the wholesaler. So fresh! So tasty! So yellow! It was then when it hit home that we've been eating load of crap. Mushy battery farmed chicken, tasteless fish, onions that don't even sting the eyes anymore. I remember a domestic goddess once showed me a knob of turmeric picked from his mother's garden, as vivid as saffron compared to its pale anaemic cousin from the supermarket.

Last week Bubbit broke out in hives all over his precious baby torso after indulging in a new Twisties flavour: Bolognese Cheesy Onion...as if the name was not a warning in itself.

I'm not going to preach about going all organic and holistic...it can be extremely annoying, especially when people overdo it and start downing enzymes and sticking plasters on their feet to 'detox'. There is a load of hogwash riding pilion on this organic bandwagon, but when it comes to ice caps melting and polar bears drowning and egg yolks turning a whiter shade of pale, my tastebuds and conscience have to hop on take over the reigns! Yee haw!

I recall I wrote Something about this waaay back when I was 'enlightened'. Cause and effect. Living with consequence. Basically shit coming back and chewing you in the arse. That post was so deep, it took me a while to understand it again. In a nutshell, henceforth, I am trying to provide Bubbit and I with a healthier life. Healthier in terms of what we eat (better quality food, more natural food and certainly no more freaky pale yolks), healthier in habit (trying to minimise the binges - hypoglycaemia is no longer a friend), healthier in what we do (outdoor play vs video games), healthier in vibe and energy, well basically everything...

Big change in lifestyleI know, but baby steps...we can't rock and roll all our lives can we? Besides even rockers vinyasa nowadays...

Home Is Where The Heart Is

Can I just say that I'm in a darn jolly place right now.

Not that I'd been in a horrible place but y'know, it's all sunshine and peonies right now.

I highly recommend buying a flat. If you can afford it, it probably works out in the long term to cost as much as therapy. And hey presto, you come out with an asset too at the end of the day.

Buying a flat comes with all kinds of grown up things to do, such as sorting out one's finances. Meaning like once and for all. Meaning paying off the credit card debt and keeping it off. Now that's a big one for me. I managed a cashflow spread sheet the other day. Yeah, laugh. But it was fun. Quite enjoyed it really.

Buying a flat also means spending one's own money. It's nowhere near as pleasurable as spending someone else's but obviously that's not going to happen, so my cash it will have to be. All very grown up.

And one's home is really an expression of one's self right? So there's also all that "Who am I?" going on in the background. And obviously I have no straight answer to that so my home will, purely by default, take on what I would like to think as a bohemian/eclectic/fune look/vibe/thing. Which will have to do until something more polished and refined comes along.

You know, this isn't my first property, neither is it my first renovation and decorating effort. In fact, the first was bigger, tearing down of walls and new floors and relocating entire rooms. This time around is like paddling in the baby pool in comparison but somehow it feel so much bigger and I have complete buy-in and ownership of the project. It's so scary (the debt!) but at the same time so amazingly fulfilling to be doing this alone.

I've turned down 2 social events this week to hang out with my contractor. This is the life!

The vampires in Bon Ton would not find me appealing

Crap. I haven't been well.

My gynaecologist declared: "You are imbalanced".

Tell me something I don't know.

You know what they say about not trusting something that bleeds for 5 days and doesn't die. Try 4 months.

Now I understand why my body has been so strange lately. Like how relaxing weekends away exhaust me so much I fall sick. Or why my eyes are so itchy I have to scratch (yes, scratch with like, my nails). Or why I get hot and cold flushes as if I'm 60. Or why I'm either falling asleep exhausted or insomniacally wandering the house at dawn. I think I hit the worst bit last night when, panting from the walk from the sofa to the bathroom (yes, as in short of breath), throat sore with blisters from one measly, not even nice Happy Meal, I thought I'd better have a look at the insides of my eye bags and true enough, there was no blood to be found. Not a drop. Like not even enough for a True Blood vampire to sniff me out.

Crap. I'm like the fattest anaemic person I know.

In my zombie state, I try and stay home. Rest. Chill out. Take it easy. All alien concepts of course.

So totally bored I felt the need to scare myself silly with The Shining.

Jack Nicholson is freaky but Shelly Duvall is freakier.

I'm into Rome now (yes, like 10 years behind). Lots of nudity (male and female, yay) and am spending my nights drooling over Marc Anthony. Am tempted to read Shakespeare's Anthony & Cleopatra again, seeing as that requires no physical effort except blinking and page-turning. Meanwhile, Bub and maid are getting really good at bringing me orders of juice and water. They're good slaves.

I'm sure I'm supposed to link this health dip to some sort of life lesson but the lack of blood has made me really shallow. I can't think of deep things when thinking in itself requires effort. Am far better at rattling off whatever trivia comes to mind rather then analyse the meaning of why I am imbalanced. It's a good time to take a vow of silence and eat lentils at an ashram.

So let's hope I feel better by next week. I need to be back to normal by end of this month. I move very soon and would really like to get started soon! More on that to come.

Spinning Holiday

My family and I are planning a cycling trip in Europe next spring. Of course I was left in charge of research. I came back with initial thoughts involving undulating lavendar-scented trails of Provence and Eastern European vampiric mystique. I even got off the beaten track. Waay off continent even. Eg. a 14-day Yunnan trail filled with history and beauty. All got shot down. My Dad was very specific and I quote: "Why did I mention Holland? That's right, 'cos it's flat".

So chips and mayonnaise it is.

Back to the drawing block. Or rather Google search.

Jack Nicholson should do the trick!

Every now and then, I do something very indulgent. I read my old posts and think about how witty and clever I am! And pat myself on the back, for writing. Even if it's just for practice.

This Hedonistic exercise of browsing my own blog shows me how far along I've come - how I've moved on with so many things yet still grapple with some of the same issues. This diary of sorts is a fantastic reminder of how I felt and perceived life, because trust me, once I write something down, it's out like a light. It's forgotten.

Yes, I have a gold fish brain. It's pretty scary because I've read my own stuff before without realising I had written it. Yes, moving swiftly on...

And the comments: I am reminded that people once came by. Though it is not the reason why I post, it's interesting to see how my little corner came to be discovered in increasingly populated cyberspace.

More importantly, however, I notice that there are progressively fewer 'heavy' posts. The strength of this blog, to me, was its posts - that were about anger, fear, frustrations, confusion, of being lost, sadness, happiness etc etc which threw into the air so many questions about life and religion, relationships and connections, universe and our place.

Fark, now, it's all about Emmy dresses and upholstering folders! I mean, I've even covered the blog with floral wallpaper!

It was meant to be a dumping hole. With visitors.

Now, it's a toilette.

Obviously life takes us up and down and up and down. BUT. But, we must always have substance and not rely solely on aesthetics. Sure, upholstering DVD folders is enchanting and cute but what is the Meaning behind it? What have we Learned from it? What's the Message?

I really need to conjure up some deep stufff to blog about. Something dark and mysterious and questioning. Perhaps Jack Nicholson will inspire me? Am trying to psych myself up to watching The Shining. I am PETRIFIED of Horrors but am so curious. Maybe that will shatter this pink floral bubble and I'll change my blog appearance to black again. Well, no, not that opressive black...

How boring were the Emmy dresses this year?!

Spent the entire day in a series of meetings and it was strangely fulfilling. I'm a little worried I may be enjoying my job more than I will allow myself to.

Nevertheless, I'm glad tomorrow's a holiday.

I'm going to spend it with friends and the gleeful knowledge that I have been asked to audit a couple of spas at exotic locales for a regional award. How lucky am I?!

Fanatic Finish

Today I deleted "The Food Fanatic", a blog about my relationship with my one true love. Food. I started in 2006 and administrated it, fairly actively for just over a year. It's being spammed to death and frankly speaking not doing very much since the last post was in 2007! It was thoroughly fulfilling to write in but blogs are like cyber babies, in need of constant attention and a piece of you.

Like this blog, Fanatic was initiated at a time when I was going through a phase of massive self expression but since then, I have moved on with many other things that vie for my time. That includes the starting up of a new blog (oh here we go again!). I'm currently working on its look and trying to teach myself Photoshop from scratch. It is most likely a travel one with super duper piccies (hopefully).
Part of growing up is learning to acknowledge my limits.

Preservation is the key word for those in their 30s. Preserve your sanity while kids/other halves/cretins at work drive you crazy and preserve inner calm when your hormones/skin/breasts/thighs/hair begin to sag/dimple/grow/freak out.

Preservation = slow down.

I am going through a chapter of intense inspiration and gung-ho and its a wondeful and exciting time to be. History suddenly seems so intriguing, art takes on a fresh appeal, politics is freakishly stimulating, sometimes I can't wait to get to work in the mornings. Even staying at home is an event filled with wonder and great fulfillment.

Anyway, the point is my body is saying chill the hell out and get some sleep every now and then.
So, although I haven't been posting on Fanatic, deleting it is very symbolic for me. It's my way of acknowledging that I can only do so much. I do it with a little sadness but of course, I've exported the entire blog onto my external hard drive so its still there in a way. Thank you to those who visited andtook the time to read about my take on our common love.

A Free Palestinian State

After watching a documentary of our former Prime Minster on the Bio channel, I'm now quite hooked on his blog.

Love him or hate him, the man is legendary. Of the many things I admire about him, I am grateful for his efforts under the PGPO and the drawing of Malaysian interest to the seige of Gaza. Without PGPO's direct involvement, I doubt if many Malaysians (especially non Muslims) would have batted an eyelid when turning the pages of the NST. It would have fallen unnoticed along with the regular reports of suicide bombs and accusations of miraculously disappearing nuclear weapons that have numbed us into indifference. With the exposure gained via PGPO, Malaysians are united against a terrorist nation that has for far too long, escaped backlash for its actions. This is also because Gaza is not a religious issue but a humanitarian one.

I am anti-Zionist, not anti-Semitic, hence I do not agree with the existence of the state of Israel. But "Fuck you Jew" slogans and the boycott of bagels ain't gonna inconvenience anyone but ourselves. Going by this rationale, we may as well stop watching American movies and give up hamburgers (Ramly included) for indirectly supporting the continued existence of Israel.

I do not for a second forget that the Jews were persecuted. But the carving out of long occupied Palestinian land and displacing people to make way for an ideal is unjustifiable. Is it too late to undo the creation of Israel? Tricky. Israeli actions need to be criminalised and an independant Palestinian state be allowed to exist.

Enabling this lies in the unity of Palestinians, displaced or under siege, and their supporters.

I chanced upon a comment left in one of Tun's posts and I find in it a hopeful message:

"Living to fight another day. This is the proven point throughout the history. It is etched whether be it in the Indian epics such as Mahabaratha ...or Greek mythology or even Sun Tsu's famous tactics of wars as in--"To subdue the enemy without fighting is the acme of skill. He who knows when he can fight and when he cannot, will be victorious. "....

India conquered and dominated China culturally for 20 centuries without ever having to send a single soldier across her border." - Hu Shih (Former Ambassador of China to US -1891 - 1962)
This applies till today. Just look no further than Mahatma Gandhi,Sun Yet Sen,Ho Chi Minh and etc....They preserved themselves in another land which is a foreign soil till the time was ripe...to fight a fruitful fight which yielded results.

The Palestinians & Muslims have numbers in their side.Which the Jews do not.Trust me , the numbers always win--eventually.Just like China & India for examples.They were once a vanquished land but just look at them now.So will Indonesia.It will rise.Mark my words.
Hence the best bet to fight evil or any evil for that matter is self-preservation.Preserve and nurture a future generation who than will eventually conquer an unjustful empire ; as Israel exemplifies itself now.How?

Because time and tide does not stands still.And the only thing that is certain about anything is change.As the timeless saying goes "This too shall pass" (Persian:این نیز بگذرد, een niz bogzarad, Hebrew: גם זה יעבור, gam zeh yaavor, Turkish: Bu da geçer) is a proverb indicating that all material conditions, positive or negative, are temporary. ...USA military might too shall pass ...and Israel 's honeymoon with US too shall pass..the world's fascination with Jew's military might at the expense of innocent human lives too shall pass....When that happens Israel ceases to exist....and oce again nature takes over. And it gives back to it's natural natives."

Gosh, is it really still Monday?

I've had a stressful day at work. It feels like ages ago since I got into work just this morning. Spent the entire day working on a Powerpoint presentation and am completely vacant now.

Anyway, can't for the life of me recall why I started this post except to announce that I've set up a new blog for travel and hobbies or just travel. Haven't figured it out yet. Haven't posted anything yet. I don't even know why I have 3 blogs except that I am so inspired these days to pursue every little thing. Full time worker, full time Mum, full time daughter, full time buying a flat, full time photographer, art and crafter, cook, driver, party-go-er, mahjong player and now blogger. I'm not complaining. I have bags under my eyes, but have plenty of eye cream.

As soon as the travel blog is up and running, I shall no doubt do a little bit of advertising on this platform.

I'm merging normal language with work language.

It's time for bed. Nanite folks.

What To Do On A Sunday Evening

Two weeks ago, I decided to finally ‘upholster’ my DVD folders. I bought the folders at the SS2 pasar malam for something like RM4 each. They come in admittedly boring but fairly decent colours. I initially wanted to do a pale green and rose pink thing but ended up buying silver, navy, red and black too so that went out the window and in came the need to cover them up – quickly!

Again, the initial idea remained an idea. I was going to do them up with gorgeous Heather Bailey fabrics, especially from her Nicey Jane range. After a whole afternoon spent browsing through them a few weeks back, I was set to pack my bags for Vermont and spend my days frolicking in autumn leaves and baking Apple Charlottes.

But I would have ended up having to participate in The Biggest Loser. Plus after buying bits of furniture and art supplies and lycra dresses and prints of Lady Godiva prancing naked about Leicester and what not, I decided to just work with what I had.

What I did, and still do have, is a chest full of fabric. Most of them I cannot bring myself to cut up because I do take them out every now and then and stroke them lovingly. I know, I’ve been told it’s slightly disturbing but we all have our oddities don’t we?

What I could bring myself to cut up was the never-ending metres of sari material from Madras – in downtown KL, not India. They clash in colour but complement each other enough to look good as a series and there was plenty enough so as to not feel heartbroken about setting a pair of scissors on them.

Plenty of fabric glue later, voila! Teddy looks on appreciatively. I think the white and gold go really well with the orange. The blue is a tad cliché but OK. I’m not a fan of the green. It’s way out. I may have to re-do it or store horror movies in them or something.

The folders are padded with….I would like to say “artisan’s foam” or something clever and crafty, but no. I left it to the last minute on a Sunday evening to shop for supplies, so the best thing I could come up with was…air-conditioner filter. Yup that’s right. Despite being thinner than foam I would get at say, a craft or textile shop, I think it’s worked out just as well.

And of course while digging around my craft drawer I also found a bag filled with metres of embroidered ribbon I’d bought in a wholesale market in Guangzhou last year. So there you do, my DVD folders are a clash of Indian and Chinese influences. Let’s not say clash, but a confluence. There you go, now it sounds like Masjid Jamek.

Anyway, I really enjoyed making them and they look pretty alright on my shelf.

Stalker

That I am.

I've been stalking this artist on Etsy. I'm buying 2 prints from her and am trying to get hold of an original but they get snapped up so fast. I'm at her shop everyday, checking for new listings but I guess there are plenty of girly girls out there in an equal shopping frenzy.

This is in the spirit of setting up my new lovely apartment. It is also to cheer me up and disctract me from the extremely slow pace this whole s&p is taking. My agreement was stamped in April. Go figure. [Eyes rolling]. So we console ourselves with shopping.

I go to Apartment Therapy for inspiration. It's amazing how cosy a 600sq ft broom closet can look! And of course, there is Preston Bailey for the most gorgeous party decor I have ever seen. I thought he was my secret discovery until I found not one, but two hard-cover coffee table books of his displayed prominently at Kinokuniya yesterday. I suppose you can't create such beauty and not have anyone notice.

Speaking of beauty, I'm pretty set on getting a pair of Kartell ghost chairs. I absolutely LOVE the Louise XV design, of course if I can get hands on an old one, I'd rather that but there don't seem to be many around...

I bought my son a bed yesterday. This gorgeous mid-century teak bed frame with a sliding headboard for hiding secrets! Love it! So far, I've managed to find a Singer sewing machine table that I've always wanted plus this bed frame at Second Charm.

And clothes, we must always have plenty of clothes! Inspired from the latest STC movie (Dubai is dead, Abu Dhabi is the new Middle East!), I made a pit stop at my two fav shopping sites of late. One local, Blissfully Beautiful (what a name! Beautifully dressed but blissfully broke!) and of course, the indefatigable online shopping fashion institution that is Asos. I ordered 5 items from their sale last week only to realise at check out that they don't accept Malaysian credit cards. What a bummer! So, my lovely sister had to step in, wielding her prized UK credit card for I was not going to let go of those bargains. Lace dresses are all the rage next season, so it is said.

Then I discovered I was as broke as Jake Gyllenhall's heart in Brokeback and chanced upon the idea of actually painting my own stuff. So off I went to shop for supplies - canvases, and acrylics and brushes. I almost died on the second floor of Kinokuniya. But what makes me think I can paint now when I couldn't at school is still a mystery to me, but who knows? This weekend, we shall find out.

Then I went fabric shopping at the amazing Fah Num next to Kota Raya. I like to call it 'Farnum's' just to up the stylo factor but seriously, the stuff in there ain't cheap. Still I managed to get something. I also like People's Textiles across the street - they have an adorable selection of Japanese prints in there, which I like. What's a visit downtown without popping into Peter Ho? I love Peter Ho because a) I'm going to copy his style of framing Indian miniature paintings and b) it's a lovely oasis from the Petaling Street madness.

So much to do and so little time. Even worse, so little money! Choi choi choi choi!