'Daddy' dearest

I came into the office this morning and my colleague told me something really depressing. He is in mourning. The kitten he has been semi taking care of was attacked by a group of rabid dogs and it passed away this morning. He then tells me that this kitten was brought up by its FATHER, this male cat, who tends to it and keeps the little kitty safe. Unfortunately he wasn't around when the kitten was attacked. You can tell that the father cat really cares for it, said my colleague sadly. Of course, we all know how mother cats are attached to their young ones, but for a MALE cat to look after a kitten is just amazing. Male cats usually hump a female and then go about their business. But this male decided to stick by his kitten.

When I hear these kind of stories, I can't help but think of my own biological father (amazingly, he does cross my mind from time to time - very rarely but it does happen). I haven't seen him for..how long has it been? God knows, I think I was in high school. My last memory of him is of his nostrils flaring, jaw twitching, telling my sister and me off for wanting to buy a CASSETTE (yes, this was the cassette era) from this music store in KLCC. I specifically remember him telling us how he is not a "bank" and that we should get our mother to buy us unnecessary things like cassettes. Then he stormed off, expecting us to follow him to his car, but my sister and I fled the scene. I had tears running down my cheeks while we were walking, because I was so,so angry and in shock. We hadn't seen him for years before that particular outing, and I was foolish enough to think that maybe he had turned over a new leaf, maybe, just maybe, he wanted to start acting like a father again. I'm still kicking myself for being so hopeful and naive. For even thinking of giving him another chance.

That was the last time we ever saw or heard from him.

This year, in August, I am going to turn 25. My friends are off having babies or being pregnant. I'm at that age where I could actually have a child of my own (provided I get married of course). And with each passing year as I grow into a full-fledged adult, I am even more flabbergasted. I will never understand it. I will never understand how 'that man' (yes I call my biological father this) can do what he did to his own children. I was ten when my parents first got divorced and he left my mother for another woman. He simply packed his bags and left. Of course, we tried to follow him in another car, but that's another story. At first he made a meager effort to keep in touch with my sister and I - there were a few random outings, one or two birthday presents...there was also the day we fell asleep outside our house with our shoes on, waiting for him to pick us up, but he never came. Then the outings slowed down even more, and the birthday presents stopped coming entirely. And all this while, as a child, I thought this was normal. I thought maybe this is what happens when parents get divorced..eventually he'll fade away, and I accepted it. I accepted that he vanished out of my life, that years went by without me seeing him.

But now as a young adult, I see the person that he is. It's NOT normal to disappear on your children, it's NOT normal to not want to pay for your children's education - that my mother has to fight you in court every single time, It's NOT normal to be angry at your children when you actually do see them after YEARS of abandoning them. I will never understand, as an adult looking at another adult, how this human being could just get up and leave his two children, who were practically clinging at his feet telling him not to leave them, that they would become better children if he stayed. I will never understand how he somehow made it feel like it was our fault for not calling him, and asking to meet him.. shouldn't it be the other way round? How dare he, all those years I thought maybe it was partly our fault he was disappearing. Did he go out of his way to see us? No. I will never understand how a man can turn away coldly from his wife, his two daughters who were crying in his car the day after he left, pleading for him to come back. This is not me feeling a sense of abandonment, I am not sad for what he's done to both my sister and me, we grew up just fine without him in our lives (besides the fact that he may have scarred the way we look at relationships forever, but you'll have to wait for that in another blog entry). This is a feeling of disgust for the person that he is, the 'father' that he is now. Sure, he may have children of his own now with his new wife, god knows, but how does he sleep at night, knowing that he has two other children he simply discarded, to be with another woman? And the sick thing is, I think he sleeps just fine.

One day, I'll have my own children (Insya-Allah) and I know I will love them more than life itself. I will love them selflessly, and I will love them fiercely. I'll be there to protect them when they need me, I'll be there for them until they're old enough to go out into the world on their own. I'll be involved in their lives, be there when they first learn to ride a bike to when they tie the knot, to when they give me grandchildren of my own. And I know the thought of abandoning them will never, ever, EVER cross my mind.

If he was standing in front of me now, I'd ask him : Please daddy dearest, answer me this, if a male cat can look after his young so attentively, how can a 'father' like you who has two grown daughters simply flick them away with a finger? Where is your conscience? Or are you not equipped with one?

Oh daddy dearest, I suppose I'll never understand it all.

Those damn shoes

When I first came across these heels in Lulu's (see previous entry) blog, it was love at first sight. And lo and behold, I saw them a few days ago in Nine West. ON SALE. They are now haunting me in my sleep. I'm just waiting for my pay to come in before I rush to the nearest store and make them MINE, ALL MINE!! MUAHAHAHAHA!!

That is all.

Daily clicks

You know how some of us (ok most of us) have a sort of ritual we go through every day when we turn on our computers first thing in the morning? I know most guys would click on some soccer website to check out updates on which team won what,and a lot of us check our e-mails, and then move on to Facebook, Myspace, Friendster or any other networking website I'm unfamiliar with. Well, today I would like to let you in on a little secret. I'm a stalker. Ok, that may sound a little creepy, but I know most of you have certain people's pages that you go to - whether you want to admit it or not. Maybe you like their blog posts, you think they're cute, their lives are more exciting than yours etc, whatever the reason, you just can't help but clicking on that url. With me, I have to satisfy my daily craving of wardrobe inspiration, or not my day wouldn't be complete and I would go into sporadic convulsions. Yes I'm exaggerating, but then again maybe I'm not. No offence, but I am really really really uninspired by what a lot of Malaysians wear on a daily basis. They may slip into something slinky and skanky, put on some heels and call that being 'fashionable'. I'm sorry my darling, but being fashionable is not about getting your boobs out. Even if you did want to look sexy, please make it tasteful, I am getting a sore eye just from looking at you. Anyway, here are a few inspirational fashion blogs, from normal people, that I have stumbled across which I adore to bits and pieces. These girls make being stylish look oh-so -effortless, daahling:


Rumi is from California and has the cutest wardrobe. Ever. I want EVERYTHING she posts in her blog. Totally inspirational. Check her out at http://www.fashiontoast.com/

Then there's the spunky, gothic-ish Lulu :

She's on that chictopia website that showcases real style from real people. Click away and you will find very inspirational stuff. Anyway, Lulu's here.

If you like your look mixed with a little masculinity (which I think is super hot by the way) then check out Karla, also from Cali:

Also, check out stylemob. It's another website where fashionistas get together. You may find some quirky posts which don't exactly float your boat, but you're bound to find something inspirational.

So come on people, let's break up that conventional fashion mould we Malaysians have comfortably settled into and inject a little personality into your daily wear. I like mine a little scruffy, mixed with vintage pieces and with just a hint of goth to top it all off (think Ashley Olsen). Mmmm,delicious.

sloppy kisses xoxo

I am tired

...and grumpy. I really need a holiday. Oh god, I've been saying that since forever but am yet to actually go on one. I've been meeting one deadline after the other, my eyes are tired and I really feel like I'm ageing before my time. I need to take a few days off - just the sun, sea, sand and a really hot bikini.

Is that really too much to ask?

This is a happy post # 2

Okay, so I've been so caught up and stressed out with work lately that I'd like to take 5 minutes of my time to remind myself about things that make me deliriously happy:

1) Finding awesome bargains when I go shopping (like purchasing delicious Guess by Marciano sky high heels for RM150, when they were originally almost 300 bucks before the sale!)

2) Waking up late during the weekends.

3) Good hair days ( when it's not frizzy or Medusa-like, which we all know tends to happen often).

4) Sleep.

5) Heaven by Gap.

6) Finding a parking spot near the mall entrance.

7) A really good horror/romantic movie.

8) Sushi.

9) The feeling after I've met my deadline for the magazines. Oh god, this one may actually be at the top of this list!

10) Sleeping with my cat curled in the nook of my arm.

11) Watching people make a fool of themselves because they can only come up with a really uneducated, kindergarten comeback like "huhu. Fatty legs!" (please refer to the previous post's comments if you would like to know what I'm talking about). It's embarrassing for them really, but it makes my day :)


xoxo

Seeing red

OH JOY OH JOY OH JOY!!

I've been eyeing Myvis for a while now, thinking it's a car I would look cute driving (heh heh) plus it's not a Proton, so the chances of my windows getting jammed or my dashboard falling out would be significantly less. I came back from PD the other day and my dear, sweet, mother was holding a leaflet. She told me she was thinking of buying a Viva. Of course I saw this as a golden opportunity to let her know that I have been aching for a Myvi and that if she got a Viva instead I would run away from home, never to return again. I would live on an island and have babies - grandchildren she would never get to see. Ever. But ultimately, the decision was hers (I would never force her to buy a car she wouldn't want, of course).

So this morning, she called me at work and said, "`Aainaa, for your sake I'm getting a Myvi. What colour do you want?"

I coolly told her (when inside I was jumping 100 metres high), "That's nice, mother, I'm glad you've come around. I think white would be nice".

But when I said 'white', something inside me seemed unsettled. I mean, white is cute and all...but I thought it a bit too girly. Too....neutral. Yes, I'm a girly girl, but I don't really like looking all peaches and cream. I like big, men's watches - I think they're sexy. I like wearing black. I line my eyes with thick, cat-eyed eyeliner. I wear big rings. I like a little *zing* to the things I wear. A little fire, a little in-your-face.

So I told mama to get a red one instead ( it helps that the colour 'red' is associated with 'hot' too):

Isn't she a beauty? Sigh. It's a little chilli padi, just like its future owner ;) It's definitely got more personality than a white Myvi, methinks. I don't even have it parked in my garage yet and I already love it. I'm still thinking of a name for her, anyone have any suggestions? Mom's paying for the downpayment and I'll be taking over monthly when I get a salary increase (hopefully SOON!).

GOD I'M SO HAPPY I CAN'T EVEN WRITE PROPERLY! I JUST WANT TO SCREAM IN EXCITEMENT AAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!

Take me to the prom

I really, really, really want this skirt.

Oh, and this belt.

If anyone needs a personal slave, I will work for clothes and shoes (provided I get to pick 'em).

The ugly truth behind the glitz and glam

Went to Envy's launch party last Friday at Loft. The Envy team is made up of my dearest ex-colleagues (whom I miss like HELL seeing at the office, when I trudge in looking like I had just been run over by a truck more than a hundred times and have work piled up in my inbox, waiting for me. They manage to make the day less shitty, god bless their fashionable souls). Anyways, if you think this blog's title is meant for their launch, HELL NO, the event was a fabulous success, full of glamorous people, it was all glitz and glam (congratulations my luverrlies for a job well done after all that hard effort!) The title is rather, for what happened BEFORE the Envy launch at Maison.

Let's go back to a few hours before the party. This is what Mira forwarded to me (and other guests) in my Facebook inbox:

Don't know what to wear tonight?

Dress to be envied ;)

We want you to work what you got, be ORIGINAL and be as STYLISH as you can be. An ENVY night doesn't happen often and first impressions count, SO DRESS TO IMPRESS!

So, I don't know about you but when you get something like that in your inbox, you start to pespire a little. Yes, Envy is an edgy fashion mag so you know you're supposed to look hot, but dress to impress? At that point I looked at my outfit of choice (black tank, high waisted shorts, chunky, three-layered gold charm necklace and chunky black heels) with such disdain, if it were human it would have run away to a corner and cried from low self-esteem. I have to admit, I spent as much time thinking about my outfit that night as about as much time as Mariah Carey ponders if she should bare her cleavage in a music video (which we all know, is really not that long).

I was going to get ready from work - the launch started at 8pm and my office hours end at 6.30pm. Which didn't exactly give me much time to primp and prune (and tweeze and shave). So I had to make do. But the one thing I wasn't going to sacrifice was a trip to the salon beforehand - wild horses on viagra couldn't drag me away from the magical hands of my hairdresser in Ampang even if they tried. Plus if I had gone with au natural hair that night, people at the launch would run away screaming in the opposite direction, or avoid eye contact, in fear of turning into stone. So I left the office a weeeeee bit early (just a weeeee bit, in case my boss reads this) and zoomed back to KL. At that point I was making good time, thinking after I got my hairdid I could go home, take a good shower and maybe actually pick a dress-to-impress-outfit from my overflowing luggage-closet.

Nope, didn't happen.

My hair took longer than usual - my hairdresser must have been having an off day because I told him I wanted "VOLUME" but instead he gave me flat-at-the-top-but-frizzy-curly-at-the-bottom type of volume, which of course made me look like a poodle. He insisted it was meant to look that way, but seeing I was almost in tears (I was holding my hair with a glazed look plastered on my face), he proceeded to set things right and make me look human. Thank god I liked the end result. And as luck would have it, I was already late. It was almost 8pm! My masterplan was not going according to err..plan. Yasir was already on the way back to KL from work (I was going with him to the launch) and people were starting to text their "where are yous". Shit. Time for Plan B.

Which, was a mystery to me, because I didn't exactly have a Plan B. So the quickest solution I could think of was (GASP) : get to the nearest public toilet and change. PUBLIC TOILET. It had come down to this. I rushed to the nearest Petronas (on the way to Yasir's house where he was waiting in his car, the poor boy) and proceeded to transform myself from tired-looking to glamorous-looking-sort-of. So there I was, getting ready for an uber glamorous fashion magazine launch in a stinky Petronas station public toilet. As I struggled to get out of my jeans and slip on my shorts in a dirty cubicle, I almost laughed out loud hysterically. I was sweating. My legs still needed some shaving. I looked like hell. Maybe I even smelled a little. Dress to impress, my ass.
Speaking of ass, someone's ASS left a mighty fine 'souvenier' in the toilet bowl of the cubicle I was in - this time, I really did scream as I lifted the lid, thinking I could take a quick leak. NAAAAAAAAASTY NAAAAAAASTYYY NAAAAAASTYYY.

So after said scream and getting the hell out of the cubicle, I proceeded to complete the most important part of my outfit - my face. Bending over the sink I slapped down some serious black eyeshadow on each lid because at that point I didn't care. Plus, looking edgy means sometimes looking weird. I found myself feeling uber relieved there was no one around - Thank Gods, as we Malays would say. But of course I messed up my eye makeup (naturally) and guess what, NO TOILET PAPER! HOORAY! My liquid eyeliner was the saviour for the day - just layer it on to cover up your mistakes, girls. Works like a charm. And all the while as I was applying my heavy eye makeup, I prayed to god that no one would walk through the door, because if they had they would have DEFINITELY thought I was a ho getting ready for a client.

Ladies and gentlemen, after all the sweat, blood, tears, messy eyeshadow and nasty-shit-in-toilet-bowl, I present to you the outcome:



No full-length photo yet, but will upload one when I get my hands on Shikin's camera! Not bad eh? Where other girls would have just given up, this chick was determined to look fabulous, stinky toilet or not. I deserve a pat on the back, if I do say so myself. Who would've thunk just hours before, I was all sweaty, smudgey eyeshadow, in a public toilet and now getting my glam game on.

This goes to show that looking all glam'ish' is just an attitude. And THAT, my fabulous friends, is the truth ;)

This is a happy post #1

So Shen mentioned in his last comment that my posts are depressing (I wouldn't go to the extreme of labelling them 'depressing', maybe just a tad bit...bitter? Hmmpfh.) Therefore ladies and gentlemen, this post is to remind me of the things that make me grin like a fat cat after a good meal of fresh salmon. I have even used a happy pink font for the occasion. Please, imagine me typing this out with a huge smile on my face, if it helps:

- Two simple words which mean so much to a lot of people : Public holidays.

- Money in my wallet and a whole day of shopping (yes this one is predictable, but I would be hypocritical if I didn't include it, so there!)

- When my hair's all beach'y' and sea goddess-like from a good island holiday.

- My cats.

- Waking up to see a good breakfast laid out on the table (this happens very rarely, so when it does, PRAISE THE MIGHTY LORD!)

- Foot massages. From a hot guy ;)

- Someone saying they like reading my writing..this one puts a smile on my face the whole week! :D

- Finding random things in my wardrobe and being able to put together a hot outfit. You should see my closet - naaaasty. This one is a definite acquired skill.

- Dessert.

Think that will be all for now. Till I think of other things that make me happy, you stay classy San Diego.