Confessions of a Shopaholic

*Spoiler ahead!

To put it bluntly, this shopaholic thinks that the movie sucked. Halfway through, I felt trapped, my mind started wondering elsewhere and my hands were starting to twitch because all I wanted to do was just strip Isla Fisher off at least ONE item of clothing. I'm sorry folks, but I really didn't buy her 'adorable' personality which apparently infected everyone in the movie (she slapped a random man and got away with it, forgodsakes). Even the 'lesson' behind this movie failed to move me,not an inch. We're supposed to applaud her for paying her debt to Derek Smeath in coin jars? Sure, confronting you during a live talk show may seem a bit harsh, but hun, you've been avoiding him for months and months, one stupid excuse after the other, don't you think you had it coming anyway? Sigh.

All in all, the only part of the film I enjoyed was when she 'shake it like her mama gave her' and worked the fan on the dancefloor. That lasted for all of 3 seconds, by the way. To sum it up, this is one movie I would NOT see again, even if someone handed it to me on a silver plate in original DVD form and choked me with strappy Manolos. I think I like my fluffy chick flicks with at least a little substance, thanks.

Have faith

So, yesterday Yasir was on his way to pick me up from the office. And unfortunately, he drove into this god-awful, larger than life pothole. Then he picked me up, and as we were moving along, his radio started acting screwy, sometimes switching off on its own then on again. So at the traffic light, Yasir decided to turn his engine off, hoping magically that the radio would stop acting funky. Finally, he turned the engine on again, and what else should happen but it wouldn't start. Now, this little situation isn't a huge deal, of course....if not for the fact that we BOTH couldn't call out. I had lost my phone a few days earlier, so I was sans mobile, and Yasir's phone was barred because it had exceeded his limit.

So there we were, in the middle of a three-lane road, with cars honking at us and people shooting dirty looks. We were nowhere near a petrol station, let alone a car workshop. Yasir then tries pushing the car, but we were on an uphill road, so the car just rolled back down again. Great. Then I suggested we try asking for help; maybe borrow a cell phone from someone. Because our car had stopped near a traffic light,we could knock on someone's window and ask to borrow a phone when the light turned red. So Yasir then proceeds to step outside to ask for help (while lighting up a cigarette, of course) and he catches the attention of a motorist two metres away, by making exaggerated hand movements to signal that he wanted to borrow a cell phone. And the amazing thing is, this man (lets call him KS for Kind Stranger, shall we) straight away turns back and stops his bike to help us out. He then proceeded to get behind the car with Yasir and push the car to the side of the road, so we wouldn't be blocking other cars. He then handed his mobile phone to Yasir, who started calling Proton right away. So at this point, KS pops the hood without us asking and starts tweaking around with whatchamacallithowthehellshouldIknow and suddenly the car literally feels like it was 'brought back to life'. At this point I felt the angels from heaven looking down on us, and I swear KS was surrounded by a halo. I tried starting the car, and hey presto - it starts! Yasir then gets in the car to check things out, all the while still holding on to KS' handphone (I actually felt jumpy, scared that KS might have thought the whole our-car-broke-down was just a ploy to speed off with his Nokia), but KS looked perfectly calm as I called my mom to tell her to check in on us in 10 minutes should the car decide to be an ass and break down again.

Finally, when we were confident enough that Yasir's Gen-2 was nursed back to health, I thanked KS profusely, almost kissing his feet. He gave us a warm smile, shook Yasir's hand, said it really was not a big deal, got on his bike and rode off. It really may have not seemed like a big deal to anyone else, but to me, when you read the stories in the papers everyday and you're constantly reminded of how evil humans can get...a random stranger that goes out of his way to help you out of a tough situation reminds you that there is, after all, some good left in this world.

the disease

Why do clothes lose their 'magic' after you've worn them once? If I didn't have this illness, my bank account would be a gajillion times the amount it is right now. 

Sigh. 

A 'Dear diary' post

Dear diary,

I've got an event at The Palace of The Golden Horses today at 7.30 and I just KNOW I'm going to get lost. My sense of direction never fails to amaze me, because it's so SHIT. Every road seems like just another road. You've seen one road, you've seen 'em all, I say. I am always in awe of how people know their way around. All my friends and my boyfriend (especially) know not to ask me about directions to anywhere. This is why I need a chauffeur. Mental note to self : Must marry Multimillionaire so I can hire driver.

Anyway, I finished reading Confessions of a Shopaholic this morning. Yep, I am probably the only girl on the planet who did not read the whole Shopaholic book series when it was such a hit years ago. I decided what the hell and finally gave in to temptation. And guess what? I really didn't like the book. I mean, I like Chick Lits as much as the next ShoeWhore, but this book didn't do anything for me. Is it weird that I found Rebecca Bloomwood the most annoying girl on earth? Really, throughout the book I was just waiting for something interesting to happen! But no, the whole book goes on to describe her two-faced personality, and her out-of-control spending habits. Yawn. Am I the only one who finds her personality absolutely flaky? To those who liked the book, please don't take it to heart, as I'm sure there will be books I love which some of you find crap. So it's really up to what you like. Sad to say, I'm really not looking forward to the movie. I might watch it just to check out Patricia Field's crazy outfits, but I'm hoping it won't be much of a snoozefest.

Mariam called this morning around 7 something. Was nice to hear her voice, although I croaked throughout much of the conversation (apparently some people have 'sexy' morning voices - I just croak). I miss that kid. We talked about mortgages and marriage - the two 'M's which a while ago, we would never even dream of discussing. Next thing you know, we'll be discussing the two 'P's : Pregnancy and Puking. Hopefully not too soon though.

Alright, I've procrastinated long enough. I've got an article due in a few hours and I'm nowhere near finished. As I told Yasir, "It's okay, I'm Superwoman nyahahaha". Don't know if I believe myself though.

sloppy kisses,
`Aainaa

Ok, i suck.

I know I was supposed to continue the whole 'Phuket' whatnot, but I really can't be bothered. Especially after I've spent DAYS trying to upload pictures on to Facebook, I think I am way past even talking about the trip. Which brings me to this point.....hmmm. What exactly do I feel like blogging about? I was surfing the net a few minutes ago (yes, I do have work,it's not all parties and pillowfights at BluInc...although I did go around putting blue mascara on people..but checking out different websites felt more interesting and validating at that moment) and I clicked on this <----click please. I actually 'favourited' this website a while ago when I first stumbled upon it because the ongoing debate surrounding women's magazines has always been an interesting topic to me. As we all are well aware of (I'm sure) most feminists find women's magazines demoralising, patronising, idiotic fluff..or to put it simply, complete trash. I have a confession - I used to be one of them. Okay, maybe I'm being a tad dramatic - I didn't use to completely diss women's magazines, but during my years in Uni (when we had to analyse every single thing that moved or did not move) I wrote about women's magazines and how misleading and sometimes demeaning they were. So when I scanned through the posts in 'Glossed over' (see above link - if you haven't clicked on it, CLICK NOW la dey) it felt like I was reading my past assignment papers, without the grammatical errors and stupid ^*&%*#* referencing. I totally get this woman. It's like a sense of dejavu washed over me, and I feel that if she had marked my assignments she would have given me an A++++ with little gold star/rainbow stickers and named me her star student. Damn, why didn't she go to Melbourne Uni! Anyway, before I start daydreaming about the sushi in our Union House (the Cali rolls are like little pieces of heaven, I SWEAR), I know some of you must be thinking I'm two-faced. At this point, you must be going "Tsk tsk. That Aainaa is a hypocrite! She used to slag off women's magazines and now she's working for one? She should be ashamed of herself!"

Allow me to explain myself. Ever since I can remember, I have been a fan of magazines. As soon as my grubby little fingers were expert enough to flip the thin little pages over, I was reading 'em. Dolly during my teeny bopper years, right up to Cosmopolitan, Marie Claire, Cleo (the international editions mostly)..and yes I would occasionally read female. Anyway, when I was criticising these magazines - Australian magazines only, because I was studying in Melbourne - I was analysing every...single...line. I would nitpick titles, how sentences are phrased, skinny models (of course), topics, pictures, the cover..you named it, I criticised it. Just like the writer of Glossed Over. But why was I doing this? Because I was writing a frikking paper. I feel that feminists are a tad too emotional when it comes to this issue - why are they analysing every single word in a magazine when obviously, people know that glossies are purely for light reading and entertainment? Do you really pick up a magazine to find out who you are as a person? Do you see glossy reading material with Katie Holmes on the cover as some kind of self-help guide? Because if you do, then I really think something is wrong with YOU. Heck, when I was criticising these magazines, of course I knew I would find fault with them because I was honing down on every itty bitty little thing. Which is EXACTLY what our dear writer at Glossed Over is doing, isn't it?

She then goes on to state that the latest issue of Glamour is trying to reinforce a kind of "normal" that women should squeeze into, forcing unreasonable standards women everywhere should meet. Oh come on! Are you really THAT naive? Don't people already know to read magazines with a pinch of salt? How exactly is Glamour trying to force you to be someone else? Dude, it's a MAGAZINE. It's called "GLAMOUR" forgodsakes. Which is exactly what most magazines will offer you - an escapism from your normal, everyday life. At the end of the day, after a hectic and tiring day at work, wouldn't it be great to flop down on the bed and go "ooh" and "aaaah" over this season's gorgeous shoes or read about "Ten things men love in bed" and "Hey it's OK"? Of course there are some of you who prefer reading Shakespere rather than trashy tabloids, but who are we to judge other people's reading choices? If I want to kick back after a stressful day by reading a bloody cookbook, who are you to say I can't? And aren't magazines a form of entertainment, like movies? At the end of the day, when I'm tired with all the bullshit that's happening in the world, is it wrong for me to watch a brainless movie like The Anchorman? In an ideal feminist world, women's magazines would probably be filled with serious women's issues, straighforward headlines, and no pictures. EXACTLY the fun thing I want to read when I'm on the beach, getting a suntan.

My dear feminists, I think you should really give this whole 'women magazines are out to change women all over the world into brainless idiots' a rest. Because, if anything, I think YOU are insulting us women who actually find them harmless and entertaining. If you really think we are as wise as impressionable, pimply 13-year-olds who will do what a magazine tells us to do, then really, who is undermining women here? And come on, a lot of magazines (like female..ahem) really feature advice on financial, emotional, fashion and BEAUTY topics which we can all learn a thing or two from, without compromising our identity or turning into a dumble blonde. And for your information, as a writer in a magazine, we ARE supposed to make our headlines catchy or fun, so when we say "Copy Her Look" for example, we are not FORCING you to look like someone else, but rather merely stating where her lip gloss shade or sunglasses are from, should you be interested - all in three punchy words. Again, pinch of salt people.

Ok, I'm done. All this venting makes me want to flip through a magazine.

p/s: in case you can't click the link above, here's the url: http://www.glossedover.com/glossed_over/

That Glowy feeling

You know that look when you've just come back from a holiday and you feel like you've had a week of good sleep, your skin is radiating an 'I've-just-come-back-from-a-week-in-paradise' glow, there's a bounce in your step and you smell of yummy sunscreen?

Well, I looked nothing like that.

In fact, as I trudged into the office the very next day I got back from Thailand, I had bags under my eyes, my skin was a dull dishrag colour and it looked like something that was possibly electrocuted had died on my head. Word of advice - DO NOT go to work the very next day after a holiday. Take a day off to recuperate, at least. You will NOT look like Little Miss Sunshine. Anyway, funny story - remember I told you I was going to post pics up? I was all geared up to take a zillion pics with my trusty ol' camera, and guess what?? I left it in the car, on the way to the airport. *cue applause*

Buuut I'm not one to go back on my promise (only when there's a 70% sale involved do I make exceptions), so I'm bumming pics from some of my friends' cameras. By the way, this post won't really be too exciting, because I'm in a rush - my cousin is breathing down my neck to hurry the fuck up. Long explanations of the trip will come in a later post! So here we go, my trip in 2 minutes :



Who needs Diva when you've got nature? Be creative people, all you need are a couple of leaves (going green is all the rage now), tali rafia and scissors. Tie string around leaf, cut off extra string and voila! Environmentally chic and cheap. Betcha some of you didn't know Phuket was actually for a company trip. Our trip's theme was Survivor, so that explains our Orang Asli accessories. And we even danced to Survivor too, no pics though (thank god).

Okay, my cuz is bugging the hell outta me to get off the comp. (Ju if you're reading this, you SUCK). Looks like 2 minutes was more of 1 minute. Soz!

Till next time.

post-holiday sloppy kisses!