Self Assurance.
I am pleased with whatever I have bought today. Really.
I got them all for a very good price, never ever to happen again for centuries. If I didn’t buy those things, I would have regretted it for the rest of my life. Really really.
My maroon suede Furla is a REALLY WORTHY BUY. Really. Nevermind that it’s suede and I’m not exactly the most careful person to be handling such materials. In fact, it will help train me to be a more careful and meticulous person, to prepare me for more delicate erm….bags. And you know why it’s worth the price? Let me tell you why. It will also help me to stop this incurable habit I have which is to use my bag as a weapon/armour when I brave through crowds (yeah, that sudden sharp ’stab’ you got from a hard corner of a bag plus elbow, that’s me. You really shouldn’t be clinging on to your boyfriend as if your life depended upon it , letting him drag you across the floor while he whispers cantopop mushy lyrics in your ears at a very bustling boonlay mrt at 6pm.) It’s such a good buy, isn’t it??? It’s not just a bag, it changes ME for the better! How often do you find a bag like that and is there REALLY a price you can put to a bag that makes you a better human being? No right?
The three purses I bought? Well you never know when you, errr, break a purse or something (I know mine did TODAY.) You can’t have like ONE purse, right? If I only bought the long one, how will that ever fit in my small bags? And if I just bought the small purses, how will I ever find THAT in my big bags? They simply get lost in those giant disaster-area bags I use. So I need different purses for different bags, right? Right?
And the shoes. Well I NEED those. For school mostly. And for when I start work again. I need those formal shoes right? I can’t be wearing un-teacherly shoes to teach, right, right?
Somebody please answer me? Other than me?
Growth Spurt
I’m having a growth spurt. More like a writing spurt. (The word spurt seems vulgar, no? Sounds like… squirt?)
Anyway,
MY RESULTS ARE OUT, *do victory Zulu dance* and thank you to NIE of course for ‘breaking the news’ on the eve of Hari Raya, while I’m busy doing ketupat and lepat and whatnot and serunding and everything. You guys just KNOW how to pull a fast one, eh?
And all those sleepless weeks, all that longing to sleep in the same bed with my big and small babies, all those irritating library pests, all that angst and CRYING, was well worth it.
I’m back in the running, mannnn!!!! This set of results are my best ever, Alhamdulillah! Equating to the amount of effort I put in. Tit for tat lah gitu. I got unexpected A’s for expected C’s, and unexpected A minuses for expected A pluses. (I did aim for 1…) My record’s still clean and now I shall stop for a while, with my tumeric stained fingers, to do a victory boogie-woogie-shake-a-tooshie and let out an emancipated yelp.
*PAUSE*
Okay I’m back.
I couldn’t have done it without my family of course. *unfolds acceptance speech* My in-laws who became full-time caregivers to ooyah for nearly a month… and my buddy Kak Kin who was always there to help me and to study with me. (Thanks dearie). And my husband who listened to me cry while he was battling mosquitoes.
And I really hope I’ll be able to maintain (maybe improve?) my GPA. Next sem is my last semester after all, and it will be my toughest one, with five exam papers this time round.
And I really hope SAF won’t bloody call up my husband for reservist lor next year in April!!!
Selamat Hari Raya Aidiladha to all you readers out there! I’m celebrating mine already! 
Tagged and I’M IT!
Thanks to Aznur, I’ve been tagged. Thanks ah you. You think I vely flee issit? I got lepat and ketupat and rendang to masak okay????
Actually, yalah. I am free. (The perks of having MIL staying with you)
Remove one question from below, and add in your personal question, make it a total of 20 questions, then tag 8 people in your list. List them out at the end of this post. Notify them in their chatbox that he/she have been tagged. Whoever did the tag will have a blessing from all.
1) You like rainy or sunny day? Why?
Rainy of course. The heavier it is, the better cos it’s cool and I won’t sweat. Bad for my health.
2) At what age do you wish to marry? Marry or marry AGAIN?
24 or 25. But Mr Right didn’t come along fast enough, so I was a year off-schedule.
3) What colour do you like the most?
Maroon. It’s so… rich and mysterious. SO not like me.
4) If you have the chance, what would you probably say to your beloved ones?
This will be a long one.
To Ayah: I’ve always loved your quiet ways, your patience and fatherliness. And the love that you have for Ooyah, it touches me deeply.
And when you scold me for whatever reason, I get so hurt I could cry. I’m such a daddy’s girl.
To Ibu: You make me laugh with your antics. I miss you (and your cooking) when you when you’re not around, eversince I moved out. 
To Long: I admire the magic you have with kids. Ooyah is very lucky to have an aunty who is like a real mother to her (more than I am! You’re so much more LOVING and NURTURING! And PATIENT!) I’m glad you are alright now after what you’ve gone through, and I realized how much you mean to me since that ordeal.
To Fizah: I know I’m not on you ’favourite sister’ list, and I have always been harsh on you, but I just want you to be OKAY and turn out to be the best that you can be (OKAY I SOUND LIKE I’M WRITING IN A REPORT BOOK). I love you with all my heart, believe me and I DO feel bad about the way I treat you sometimes (ask Abang Ayie, and Geetha. They know.)
To Ramli: I LOVE LOVE LOVE YOU, and I cannot say it enough, so I shan’t. I love how you make up stories about famous people and FOOL ME into believing them (more of this in another post) and also MADE UP ‘FACTS’ that I didn’t know. I love your “ORGANIZATIONAL SKILLS” and I love how, when you DO open your mouth, you make me laugh.
And last but not least, to Aurelia Sarah: Of all the people I love, I must admit, the one I have for you tops it all off. I CANNOT live a day without you (but I sure can do without the screaming). You are the most beautiful thing that happened to me and if you ever ever EVER for once wonder if I love you at all (probably after i scream into your face and your friends’ faces), please read this entry.
See, Aznur. Now you’ve got me sobbing and my nose is all blocked. Nanti kau.
5) Where is the place that you want to go the most? Cristiano Ronaldo’s house. I stay there for good, can?
6) Which part of you that you hate the most?
Surprisingly, none. I’m glad to say, there’s not one part that I’d gorge out/ sever/ amputate.
7) When you encounter a sad moment, what would you do?
I will laugh in a HOHOHO kinda way.
what kind of a question is this?
OF COURSE CRY LAH! THEN WHAT? Sneeze is it?
8 ) What is it that you are afraid to lose the most?
Any one of my family members. Any one. Can us 7 stay together forever alive forever and ever please?
9) If you meet someone that you love, would you confess to him/her? Or would you keep it to yourself and observe from afar?
OF COURSE I would go up to the person and confess. I do it all the time. *wink wink Geet and Bav should know this* Crushes lah! Someone that I love, only one what
10) List out 3 good points of the person who tagged you.
Aznur is crazy (in a GOOOOD way)- I love it when she has her bitch-fits ( I HATE THIS! I HATE THAT! DIE! KILL!!!!)
Aznur is cute
Aznur is crazyermm… Aznur is a very caring and responsible big sister. I love reading about her outings with her bro and sis. Continue what you do, girl!
11) What are the requirements that you wish for your other half?
Sport a five-o’clock shadow kinda thing (goatee is too much to ask for, I know) for ONE WEEK. And a different (longer!) hairdo. Just for laughs.
That’s all. He’s pretty much perfect other than that (*barfs*) No lah. I’m easy to please.
12) Till now what is the moment you regret the most?
Not GETTING A LICENSE in my 3 month long holiday.
13) Which type of person you hate the most?
Cheapos who try to convince others that they are living a high life when they are knee-deep in loans and installment payments and what -not while barely surviving from ONE PAYDAY to the NEXT.
People who scrimp and save when it comes to food. Or anything concerning their kid’s well-being.
Bitches who feel a sense of achievement after sleeping with somebody’s (ugly) husband. (“Aku rasa macam bangga gitu ah dapat seduce laki orang!!!”) Siakkkk ah kau.…and everything else in between these three types.
14) What is your ambition?
I’ve always wanted to be a DJ. Used to do recordings of me ‘deejaying’ and dubbing in my mom’s favourite songs onto a tape with my commentaries in between and my mom WOULD LISTEN to the tapes.
I wanted to be a journalist too. Look where it got me.
AND my greatest ambition was to be an announcer at a shopping centre, (“Attention all shoppers….”) or a gift wrapper. person thingy. Or both!
I WILL achieve at least ONE of my ambitions one day. The last ambition, more like, when im 60 and bored. Find me at jurong point in 40 years’ time! :P
15) What is the thing that will make you think he/she is bad?
When they pass insensitive remarks about me and try to make it seem like a joke. Then I’ll f*** them upside down i tell ya. Not literally of course.
16) Christmas is coming. Who do you like to celebrate with?
My family of course! We use whatever reason there is to CELEBRATE AND FEAST!
(We’ve already ordered a turkey and roasted beef for our bbq party muakakakakkakaka! EAT EAT EATTTTTT and BE MERRY!!!!!)
17) What do you think is the most important thing in your life?
My family.
18) Do you go to pub after married?
Nope. My dancing queen days are over. And my dancing queens are all married with kids and cooking (pecan pie, anyone?)
19) What’s your fav things?
My cafe latte. Extra large/venti/grande/mucho enormous thank you!
20) My Question: What’s the craziest thing I ever did?
There’s too many and my friends have seen em all, and tried to stop me. But failed. (the nasty ones, too nasty to reveal here. CANNOOOTTTT!!!)
In JC, there was a teacher who picked on me (he’s a RACIST FATTIST, i tell ya). One day he picked on me again about the PLAIN PRATA I was having, in front of my friends (there were a few near-100kg pigs eating freaking LAKSA sitting beside me but of course, being a RACIST, he didn’t scold THEM.) I bought a plate of beehoon from a stall, then marched up to the teachers’ table in the canteen, my pride sorely bruised. He was there with about 10-15 teachers having breakfast. I went up to him, and shouted at him: “How about this? Can I PLEAAAASE eat this?” I then THREW the plate of beehoon SMACK on the table in front of his face till it splattered, and walked off. He was dumbfounded, but after I’ve walked so far away from him, THEN he shouted: COME BACK NOW! YOU, COME BACK!I’m still amazed how I got away with THAT. No disciplinary action taken at all, no mention of it.The next day my dad went to the school, shouted and I MEAN shouted at the whole PE-department and warned them NOT to ‘traumatise’ me anymore OR ELSE!!!!From that day on, NO PE FOR ME FOREVER AND EVER! NO ONE DARED to ask me to bounce a single ball, or run a single meter, or, lift a finger. I was happy. I was MADE.
& this tag will be passed on to:
1) Boise_angel
2) Black_cadillac
3) dtempest
4) zalin
5) moby
6) raggedyanne
7) yati
8 ) ooyah
HAVE FUN YOU GUYS! MUAKAKAKAKAKA!
Heroes in Teban
Yes! Heroes in the Westside!
If we didn’t visit my folks at Teban, or if we had gone out for dinner with them instead, OR if we had been at the dining table feasting on Brinda’s instead, maybe the damage done would have been much worse.
There we were, sitting in the living room, my elder sister Long (Hero No.1) was standing sorta…perched…behind one of the armchairs. Something outside our window caught her eye, and she said, “Lin, look at that kitchen in the next block. Isn’t that quite a big flame burning?” To which we peered out, and true enough. Diagonally opposite our block, was a bright flame burning in someone’s kitchen. The whole unit was dark though, and all windows were closed. We were hoping that there really was no one at home. After confirming that, no, they really are NOT (1)grilling burger patties or (2)burning hell notes in the kitchen, I (Hero No.2) called 995 (DON’T try this at home, kids, unless it’s an emergency!) and this is what I said:
Me: “Yes, I’m calling from ________, I think a flat in the opposite block, Blk 5, is on fire. We see a flame burning brightly in the kitchen and no one seems to be home.’
Operator: “Is there a lot of smoke? Do you see a lot of smoke?”
Me: ”No, no smoke, but definitely a big flame in the kitchen.” (I was thinking, DOES IT REALLY MATTER? Isn’t seeing the FIRE more important than seeing THE SMOKE??? This is TEBAN you know, it’d be STRANGE if there’s no smoke coming out from windows!)
She asked me the address of the incident and I said bla bla bla Teban Gardens.
“Err….how do you spell Teban?”
I rolled my eyes of course. Has NO ONE heard of this place? Okay AT LEAST the civil defence folks SHOULD KNOW THIS right? I spelt it out anyway (like a dumb fool. I even had to spell GARDENS out for her. What a champ.)
“Ohhhhhhh, TEBAN ah….”
*slaps forehead*
After the phonecall, my parents (Heroes No.3 and 4) told us someone should wait downstairs for the fire-engine to come, and someone should go to the house next to the burning one and get the folks out (just in case the fire spread or if anything exploded).
Considering that Ramli and I were the only ones not dressed in nightdresses/ pyjamas/ kain pelikat/ kain batik, we went downstairs and did as told. Ramli (Hero No.5) BRAVELY took the lift up (no, he didn’t fight the fire. He BRAVED the urine-filled lift and dark dark corridors), rapped at the neighbours door, but they refused to open. Clearly there were people at home because we saw them from our window, but I guess they thought he was just another loanshark. (He does look menacing at times.) He also knocked on the door of the burning house, but no answer.
Meanwhile, I (Hero No.4) was anxiously waiting downstairs. I looked up at the surrounding blocks to see if anyone was looking out their window to look at the fire in the kitchen but naaaaah. No one. Except for the people in MY MOM’S house of course, cheering us on! I kept on looking at the flame in the kitchen, half-hoping that it really IS a fire, and that it will continue burning at least till the firemen came (what if the occupants were REALLY bbqing marshmallows, or grilling belacan? Then I’M in trouble!)
After about 5 minutes, the siren of a police patrol car was heard. I waved at them as they entered the carpark. They stopped by me and I pointed at the burning unit. They did their walkie-talkie thingy, confirming that there is indeed a fire and that I’m not some loony prankster.
And then,
the mighty bellowing loud sirens of not one, not two, but THREE giant fire engines broke the sleepytown’s silence. Immediately everyone rushed to their windows, and of course, I waved back at my family and showed them the thumbs-up (not that they cared).
And there I was, in the carpark, JUMPING up and down gleefully like a monkey, flailing my arms in the air (as if I’d won a million dollars). I was so freaking excited, my heart was going on overdrive. I pointed at the burning unit, firemen nodded. One of them approached me and asked:
Fireman: (Since you are the only one here jumping like a crazy baboon) I assume you were the one who called for help?
Me: (Foaming at the mouth) YES! YES! ME! ME! YES! *jumping like monkey*
Fireman: Did you start the fire?
Me: (Drooling) YES! YES! ME! ME! ME! (stops awhile) eh, NO no no no! *
Fireman: Hahahahah GOTCHA there didn’t I, you sorry ass! Hahahahah! *
*(okaylah these two lines I made up. Teeheee.)
and he told me to wait a while to be asked some questions.
And after a few minutes looking for a fire hydrant or hose-reel, one of them asked me where it is and I gladly led them to it (even though it is NOT my block, I actually knew WHERE the hose-reel is. Man, maybe I should run for MP of Teban.)
We looked up in excitement at the burning unit, and suddenly we see a bright light from their megawatt giant torch shining through the house, then there’s some shouts, and WALLLAHHHH!!!! The fire was put out! HURRAHHHH!!!!!
The lights in the house came on one by one, windows opened. One fireman came out of the kitchen window and shouted down to his comrades,
“BALIKKKK! BALIKKK!!!! SEMUA BALIK!” (All can go home!)
To which someone below responded, “Yang besar?” (The big one?)
“Yang besar BALIKK!!!! Yang kecik BALIKKKK!!!!” (Big one go home! Small one go home!)
Apparently they were talking about the fire engines. Not me. Phew.
One of the firemen came to me and asked me the details of what happened, how we noticed the fire et cetera. Took down our particulars, my parents’ address, and thanked us. He said he’ll get back to me if there’s anything.
So Ramli and I held hands, walked to the lift lobby of our block, felt so happy and glad that our family played a part in saving someone’s house from being destroyed, or worse still, anyone getting hurt.
But then, we also thought; hmm….maybe we should have waited till the fire got a weeeeeeee biiiiiiiiiiit bigger lah. Then maybe the news will come, then Ramli can be seen carrying a suffocating fat cat out of the burning flat or something. Can be a bit more dramatic lah, then I can run to him and hug him (and the cat) and cry or what because he risked his life to save a cat. Too late for that now.
Afterall the sleepy town could do with some publicity, and SOME PEOPLE could actually LEARN how to spell TEBAN GARDENS from the press coverage…
To the Heroes of Teban , especially my elder sis long, who is currently nursing a swollen jaw after an excruciating wisdom-tooth removal (looks like they didn’t take out the WISDOM from the WISDOM TOOTH, eh? 
) She was actually on the way to her room to sleep since the painkillers and medication left her constantly groggy and weak, and that was when she spotted the fire! What a HERO!
‘Tis the season to be lazy
I must be totally relaxed, that’s what I tell myself.
I realize that I write more often in this blog when I’m (1)busy (2)stressed and of course, (3) feeling murderous. I don’t even read others’ blogs as often, now that I’ve got all the time in the world (okay, exaggeration. ALL the time in DECEMBER at least) to…waste.
And surprisingly, I’ve been sleeping early most nights, i.e 2 am, when on school days, I normally stay up till 3 or 4. Doing things like watching dvds and of course, bloghopping.
My days are spent playing with Ooyah (now that she’s walking, all she wants to do is play catch. Not good for me), watching tv when she naps, go out with my mom and sis. My nights are spent READING. Yessiree, no typo there. I bought for myself new books from POPULAR THE BILINGUAL BOOKSHOP (hahahhaha) and am currently reading Michel Houellebecq’s nihilistic classic ‘Atomised’.
I am FINALLY getting sick of playing The Sims 2, and have vowed not to buy ANYMORE EXPANSION PACKS. I will UNINSTALL Sims 2 from my lappie.
And install The Sims. Good ‘ol classic Sims and all it’s SEVEN expansion packs (Livin’ Large, House Party, Hot Date, Vacation, Unleashed, Superstar, Makin’ Magic). Somehow the original sims is better. Less complicated and more fun (to kill).
Speaking of killing, (???) I’ve been having funny dreams these few days, so I’m gonna share (some of; shall leave out the x-rated ones) them with all of you, whether you like it or not. Here goes:
(1) I was on a stage, a spotlight shone on me. In front of me was a music score, and in that dream, I felt that it was a piece that I have played before. So all eyes and ears were on me, and I started playing my clarinet. Nervously.
It came out all wrong- it took so much effort to produce a decent sound, as if it was my first time playing a clarinet. I continued playing anyway, and I was perspiring like crazy. I turn around, and out of nowhere, I see my friend Trish (who was also in our school band), all ready to play. As soon as I stopped making a racket, she started playing REAL music. At the end of the whole performance, I said to her, ‘gee,that piece was soooo difficult, wasn’t it?’ To which she replied, ‘no, that’s so easy’. Not ready to admit that I couldn’t play, I shrugged it off and said- ‘it must be the new reed. It’s not soft and seasoned yet. Whatever.’
This could be a sign; I cannot be a solo clarinettist i.e I can’t make music on my own. I need…accompaniment. A duo maybe. Is this another reminder that I NEED MY HUSBAND to be around me ALL the time???
Okay maybe I’m reading too much into this. Maybe…I just need to meet up with my good ‘ol friend Trish.
And also that I shouldn’t quit my day job (not that I CAN) to play the clarinet professionally (in a jazz band?)
Or maybe I just need to search for my clarinet and remove the thick layer of dust on it and PLAY. This can be done either back in the Teban house, or when the in-laws are OUT, of course. They do not know of my hidden ‘talent’.
(2) I’m standing in front of a full-length mirror. I glanced at the wall clock at it shows 8pm. I was late but I didn’t care, and it that dream I WANTED to be late so I can make a star-karat grand entrance, for godknows whatever reason. I try on 5 luxurious, sexy (think satin, bareback and plunging necklines) cocktail dresses/evening gowns. Apparently I’m getting dressed for prom nite (which explains why I had my 17-year-old body (read: probably 40kilos lighter, you do the math.)
And somehow, I was tall. And a babe (sheesh, was it even ME????)
Anyhoo, I chose to wear the last dress, it was the most colourful and tacky one. But it sure as hell was the most decent one. And I was violently happy.
What this could mean: Okay- starting with the OBVIOUS- I need to lose weight. But I shall ignore this ‘warning’. I shall (as planned) have all the kids I plan to have, gain all the kilos I have to gain (I won’t say ‘grow as fat as I possibly can’ cos THAT is bad), THEN I’ll lose weight. What for lose 30kgs, then gain 20kgs, then lose 10kg, only to gain 30 more kgs, so on and so forth? Might as well gain 40 kgs one shot then lose em all for good right? *my twisted logic at work here*
OR this dream could just mean…. I need to buy (more) new clothes. Yes. That’s it. Blowing of $300+ the other day just ain’t enough. Yeah. THIS is what the dream is trying to tell me. *slaps forehead*
Sheesh. Is it 3am already? It’s wayyyy past my bedtime. Got to wake up…err…late tomorrow to do…nothing?
*When oh when will my results be out? Gimme a sign in my dreams, please…..*
One Down, Three to Go
*This entry was actually written sometime around 20sumthing November, which is the day after my first exam paper. Somehow it never got published. I must have broken down again halfway while writing it!
I’ve decided to publish this anyway to serve as a reminder to MYSELF that:
1) this holiday, the 3 weeks that’s left of it, should be fully utilized for QUALITY TIME with Ooyah, load her up with as much LOVE and BONDING as possible before I start school again
2) my husband’s presence (read: trying to sneak up on me from behind when I’m in the study room alone) is important to me; moral support lah gitew….
The worst of all the four papers is down and boy am I glad. As soon as time was up, I could feel a heavy load lifted off my shoulders, brain, heart, stomach and all those other parts that have suffered the battering of studying. It is a good thing that the nastiest paper was the FIRST one, or else I would be stuck with the shitty fearful feeling throughout the whole exams.
To date, I have stayed up for 2 days with only 2 hours of R.E.M sleep. I don’t quite know why I’m feeling more relaxed now, for tomorrow’s paper (not that it is any easier). It must be the rain.
I had a bad night last night, while cramming last minute info (and there was PLENTY)…at about 6pm yesterday I was given this glimmer of hope by somebody who said he might be coming home since there was some mistake about him being called up at the wrong time. There was a 70% chance that he would return, so I was feeling all thankful that he would actually be around while I get through my exams.
But at about 9.30pm my hopes were dashed. He’s not returning home afterall. As it is I was pent up with anxiety and stress, so it was no surprise that I broke down and spent a good time crying it all out. The stress of the exam, the disappointment, the dashed hopes….It sure did feel good to let it all out.
I didn’t think I would react in such a way about him going for reservist. I’m made of better mettle than that. The thing is, I’m pretty much feeling guilty about Ooyah, having spent every darn day for 3 weeks staying out till 8-9pm at the library to study. I spend an average of 1hour with her since then, and the guilt has snowballed to such an extent that it’s eating away at me. For one, she hasn’t been out of the house, not even to the playground, and somehow she’s more affectionate with me, knocking (or scratching!) at my door asking to be played with, crawling to me and demand hugs….pshawwww.
So when he said he’s coming home, I was really counting on him to help mind her, and keep her entertained. As it is, she won’t be sleeping with me at least till this Friday; I can’t leave her in the room alone while I’m in the study, so she’ll be spending her nights in my in-laws’ room. I know she misses me, and she whines for me to spend more time with her; I do try my best but it’s just not enough.
I’m really beginning to hate this thing they call reservist. As much as every man who has to actually go through with it.
High (Priced) Tea
After having a food spree in KL this very moment last week, I’m reminded how Singapore’s food is (1)real sucky, and (2)ridiculously overpriced.
I enjoy the occasional high-tea or food splurge, and if it’s very good, I have no qualms about paying for it. But what I experienced just now was definitely a lesson learnt (the hard way) for me.
I met up with my good friend V and as usual, we would try out interesting and good places to binge (pint-sized V is not very good at this although she tries her very best, the little darling)(my super binge kaki is valiantly trying to complete our mission on the other side of the globe) so somehow reservations were made for 2 at Goodwood Park’s cafe. There were 2 eateries there, one serving mostly local dishes and the other, a classic English tea set-up. After taking a peek at what was served in the cafe (truly local dishes, namely laksa, mee siam and the likes, complete with BENGAWAN SOLO kuehs) we decided it’s totally not worth the $32++ tag (the spread was really PATHETIC). So off we trotted to the English high-tea lounge, cafe L’espresso.
The spread was mostly sandwiches, pastries, and cakes, not many savoury stuff. Yeah sure the ambience was good, with live piano and cushy seats, not to mention a view of the pool. Surprisingly we didn’t even eat as much as we planned (like V put it, we ‘talked too much’). I whacked the cheese platter nice and good though, trying ‘em all and ‘appreciating’ the distinctive taste of each one. Oh, and we had 2 complimentary drinks each, either the special teas/coffees (big deal).
After about 3 rounds at the serving table (pathetic right?), we were deceivingly full (must be the tea and coffee that filled us up!) and when the bill came, WHAM! We’re like- whaaa….???
High tea set us back $98 for 2, which is close to 50 bucks per head. For sandwiches. Which means it’s $42++ per head. Which means we could have had a decent lunch or even dinner at another hotel!
Basically, we paid that amount for the live music (not that I care, really) and… the drinks which would have cost us $9 per cup. Oh yes, we paid for using the ‘fine’ chinaware (not that it was really nice china, my Wedgewood ones are better!). The service wasn’t even that good, plus we were always bugged by this nerdy waitress who kept on coming and asking if she could clear out plates even when we were clearly still chomping.
Moral of the story:
- Go to a proper piano recital to appreciate fine music, rather than listening to a piano rendition of Copacabana or Quantanamera, or
- Go to a proper buffet with PROPER dishes (even Carousel is a better option), not some ‘cafe’ with less than 10 patrons (no wonder so empty lahhhh).
So, Goodwood has been axed from my list. We’ll go for the Four Seasons or Marriot or even Royal Plaza one next time, okay, babe?
Ooyah can entertain us on her baby piano while we eat.
Food Hunting in KL
We’re back from our food-hunt in KL…and I MEAN food hunt alright! Was it a relaxing holiday? Definitely NOT for the mouth/stomach/bowels and any other parts involved in the EATING process, that’s for sure!
The drive up was enjoyable, and we were very thankful that it wasn’t raining. We had to stop several times, since baby gets restless every now and then and needed to ‘walk’ it off, but we made it there in less than 5 hours anyway.
As usual, driving in KL is indeed a heart-racing adventure for us. At least 2 people will be armed with maps, sometimes even 3, taking the ‘easiest’ albeit long routes to get from point A to point B. The meandering roads that split ever so often, sometimes as many as 5 or 6 splits at a junction, can be so nerve-wrecking. Ever so often we’d make mistakes and make a wrong turn and we’d suddenly find ourselves in a totally different district altogether. Our worst mall-hunt took nearly 3 hours, that is from the hotel which is at Jalan Tun Razak near the town centre, to 1 Utama and The Curve. It was actually 30-40 min away from the hotel but because of ONE wrong turn, we ended up in Damansara (gawking at the gargantuan villas), Mont Kiara and even in Segambut. We gave up on the maps, and thank god for helpful souls who painstakingly drew ‘maps’ for us which were definitely more informative, less confusing, and needless to say, reliable!
We didn’t have time to go to ALL the malls in KL (that would mean we would have to LIVE there because there’s just so many!) so we chose to go to the newer ones and definitely those that ‘looked’ easy to get to. The Pavillion at Bukit Bintang is only about a 10-min drive down from our hotel, 1 utama, and The Curve were our haunts and the amount of eateries there got us really muddled about what to eat! We tried to go to as many as possible, definitely skipping anything that is available in Singapore or JB.
My favourite mall has got to be The Pavillion, which houses Tony Roma’s steaks and ribs (which are a definite no-no in Singapore- this Tony’s serves halal food and BEEF ribs), Yo! Sushi (Founded in the UK by a white man; saw him on the travel channel and thought it was real interesting), The Loaf (a Jap-style bakery partly owned by Tun Mahathir), Nando’s chicken (my mom’s favourite) and J.Co’s donuts. My personal favourite eatery is Tony Roma’s, and am sure that I can finish a whole rack by myself! The ribs are so yummy, and the service was fantastic- the waitresses were buzzing about Ooyah, playing with her and even carrying her, and they even packed for us 6 loaves of bread (!!!!) with garlic butter for home, on the house! I will definitely make Tony’s a must-visit every time we’re in KL.
Another eatery that I STILL AM longing for is 1901’s hotdogs. The moment I saw an outlet at 1 Utama, I thought of Zalin dearie (the pic of your homemade hotdog has been imprinted in my mind eversince and I remember how you raved about their hotdogs!), and CHARGED! Ooooh….I’ve never had hotdogs so so good (especially LOVE the super soft hoagie bun- how do they DO that???) and we must have had about 5 of ‘em throughout our visit (sure could manage more…)
The hotdog to die for. The yummy soft bun just melts in your mouth, goes well with the juicy sausages.
And…we were STARSTRUCK at The Curve- it must be the hottest hangout of the artistes- we saw Erra Fazira and her latest husband (:P) Umie Aida, Que Haidar, Fazura, and Harith Iskandar. I’m sure there were many more that we missed- the celebrities were very low-profile and unassuming; simply dressed, not overly made up; a far cry from most local ‘wannabe celebrities’ who (1)apply layers of make-up, forgetting that they’re NOT on set, (2) make their presence known by being loud or try to make eye contact with you like ‘LOOK AT ME! I APPEARED ON TV BEFORE, CAN’T YOU SEE?’ (3)behave as if they’ve made it big with Mediacorp and live in District 10 (4)have that ya-ya, mightier-than-thou look about them (pegi dahhhh!!!!) These Malaysian celebrities were not like that at all, well at least those that we saw that night. They even bothered to smile at us when we looked at them.
Can you spot the stars (other than Ooyah who shied away from the PAPArazzi) in this picture?
We also managed to find our way to Taman Titiwangsa where the Eye on Malaysia is. I must say it was worth the 15 ringgit each of us paid for (5 full rounds!) and despite the initial jitters (Ooyah sort of hyperventilated and was a bit shaken on the first round) the view was breathtaking. The next time we’re in KL, we’ll make sure we get on the wheel at night where there would be laser shows or fireworks on weekend nights.
Having missed the chance to shop at Masjid India on our last visit, we managed to squeeze in 2 hours in that place and, in that 2 hours, we managed to spend RM2000 between us! I bought about 5 outfits which I totally love, and I think if I’m given one whole day to explore the place, more damage would have been done! My mom alone blew off $300 on scarves (can open shop!), expanding her scarves collection!
We spent 4 days in KL and STILL did not manage to do all that we wanted to do. We had to give the P.Ramlee Memorial, Mid Valley megamall, Dewan Bahasa & Pustaka (was planning to load up on books there), Mines resort and Satay Kajang Haji Samuri a miss.
But don’t worry- we’ll be back for those! I can’t get enough of KL (Zalin, you enjoy it for me ok, bila makan apa2 yang best kenangkan kita!). I was thinking, how wonderful it would be to LIVE in KL (hubby seriously considering investing in this particular property there…LET’S TAKE THE PLUNGE MANNN!!!!) And I’m SURE I would DOUBLE in size if I were to live there hahahah, constantly ‘trying out’ food places (they’re just too many lahhh!!!) but it’s okay- we’ll just make the doors in our house there BIGGER!
Having left KL on Wednesday evening, we reached JB nearly at 10pm and ended up staying the night at my aunt’s new place at Setia Tropika. Ooyah had a smashing good time playing with her second-cousins, especially her abangs Haziq and Faiq who amused and entertained her almost every second of the day so much so that she couldn’t sleep at night, still wanting to play with them!
To date, we STILL haven’t managed to go on a trip without ‘parental supervision’ i.e without Ooyah’s grandparents/aunties assisting us. We observed that Ooyah gets bored and cranky after 1 1/2 -2 hours in the car, so we’re thinking about taking a train to and fro KL next time, probably in the private sleeper cabin with our own bathroom and all, then she can wail all she wants, or we can walk her down the aisles of the train, or perhaps, best of all, she’ll sleep through the whole trip since it departs at 10plus pm and reaches at about 8am, pretty close to her sleeping hours…..
So, are we ready for our ’solo’ trip?
P.S: Zalin, next time (very soon!) that we’ll visit KL, we’ll make it a point to meet you folks, okay… in our mad rush to visit KL, langsung tak ingat nak mintak contact number!
Career Guidance
We’re back! Me and Baby from my mom’s place, and Soulja Boy from camp. Finally. The torment that reservist brings is OVER. It’s been a week since we stayed over my mom’s, which means a break for me from home (post exam-disaster area- too traumatic) , also a break for Baby from being cooped up at home, not to mention a good break for the in-laws who took care of her during the exam period.
For a whole week, I didn’t once take a peek into the internet. *pats own back* I did bring my lappie over, but because of technical problems, I couldn’t get myself hooked to any connection (not even ‘illegal’ ones!) so, abstinence from blogging and facebook and youtube it is!
And to think I reinstalled all my sims games, only to realize that I DIDN’T BRING THE CORRECT CD to play it with (this is the problem when you’ve got too many expansions and do not remember which is the LATEST), so I had to make do with games bought by my younger sis at good ‘ol Popular the BILINGUAL bookshop (I don’t quite like that bit), Shopping Centre Tycoon and Teddy Factory. Now you may scoff at Teddy Factory, but it SURE IS more entertaining and challenging than SCT. Go try it! (Not being cynical here, really.) Teddy Factory was SO addictive, my backache worsened cos I played in bed for too long. All that expert supersonic-speed matching of teddy bear body parts has actually made my fingers more nimble on the keyboard. Really. Somehow it beats DinerDash and CakeMania (yeah I’ve tried ‘em all. Really considering making a career switch to play games PROFESSIONALLY…)
Talking about careers, *dim lights*
Next semester will be my last semester in school. *fade to black*
I know, I know, when times were tough, when assignments went tick-tocking like timebombs, when exams made you wonder if you’ve lost the knack for it or just ‘gotten too old for this’, I did utter under my breath, how I miss teaching. I will, God willing, graduate one semester earlier than my classmates; out of about 18 in my class, 4 of us (I’m one of the 4) who will (InsyaAllah!) be out in the teaching world before the rest due to the fact that we have been trained (sheesh we sound like circus animals!) to teach in secondary schools, therefore, no need for practicum. Of course I’m GLAD I don’t have to go for teaching practice, but I’m not glad either that my life as a student will end earlier.
And, as all this talk about ME going out to teach earlier looms in the air, I was alerted of a vacancy in my previous school. Hmmm. Which means, there is an almost-certain, surely kena, 97% chance that I will go back there. Hmm hmmm hmmmm.
Truth is, I’m yearning for a change of environment. I want to work in a different staff room, make coffee in a different pantry, sing a different school song (I memorize and sing ‘em all, whatever schools I’ve been to!) and work with different people.
And I was hoping I’d be posted to a school much closer to home (for godknows whatever reason I do NOT have but I’ll think of that later), a school that is colourful (catch my drift?) and maybe one that…has a sense of identity about it. I’m not talking about elite schools, no, I’m talking about a school that has its school culture rooted, a tried-and-tested system that works, where students develop CHARACTER without getting too caught-up in the MSG race but turn out to be brats (for the non-teaching laymen, NOT monosodium glutamate, but MEAN subject grade. Yes, those grades can get pretty mean, I tell ya.) I have taught in schools like that, decent neighbourhood schools, and I love teaching in such schools.
I had a good think-through of the odds that I might be posted back to my previous school. So many people have left the place, there’s only a handful of my buddies left there. A small handful. I sure do hope that if I do end up there, these good people will be around there for a long time. And then I thought about being posted to that scary, notorious school that is oh-so-near to my place too, then I thought, *shudder*, god-forbid. I’d much rather go back to the same staff room, make coffee in the same pantry and all. I have heard horrifying stories about that school, and they’re so frightening that I don’t mind sticking to my ONE (okay, maybe TWO) usual creepshow characters that I’m oh-so familiar with.
I’m not very good in the luck department, so now I have this queasy feeling in my gut about getting The Notorious school instead. Please please PLEASE cikgus in that school, please do not retire/get fired/killed (by students). Please just hold on to your seats UNTIL posting period is over….
In four months, my fate will be sealed. My life as a student (with fabulous student meal deals and discounts!) will cease, and I’m gonna be all…adult again (I do forget sometimes that I’m actually NOT in my late-teens/very early-twenties like half of my classmates!)
…and depression sets in….
P.S If I don’t pop by again by tomorrow, I won’t be popping by here till next thursday….
We’re going on a roadtrip!!!! Yipppeeeeee!!!!
