A wedding portait

I loved this story so much, I retyped it again just for you guys to read - it's taken from a bridal magazine, told from a groom's side. For maximum tear-jerker effect, go HERE wait till it's fully loaded and you've got the perfect background music to this article. Enjoy :)

Like many betrothed couples, my fiancee, Rachel and I got completely wrapped up in the wedding-planning process during our nine-month engagement. We debated everything, and there were moments when we were convinced the napkin colour would make or break the whole celebration. The choice we struggled with most was where to hold the event. We are not the greatest decision makers – it took us eight months to choose a china pattern – but we were both sure of one thing : We wanted to have an outdoor wedding in a quaint New England setting. Another big decision – choosing who would officiate- was such a no-brainer that I took its importance forgranted. You see, my father is a rabbi. Growing up, weddings and funerals were to me what childbirth was to a Huxtable; just another day at the office. As with any parent’s profession, it comes with its own drawbacks and perks. However, not being able to snooze during a sermon was a small price to pay for having a father who could perform my wedding ceremony. Friends expressed envy over my parental lottery, but I hardly gave the notion a second thought. Who has time for sentiment when there are chicken dishes to ponder?

The morning of my big day, tensions soared due to early rain showers and tardy hairdressers. As the wedding party lined up for the processional, all of our worries and excitement came to a crescendo. But when Rachel and I arrived to face my father under the huppa, all of our stresses disappeared. Just like that, I was transported to the backseat of my family’s ’78 Chevy with no worries about how we would reach our destination – Dad was at the wheel, cool as a cucumber, tossing me knowing glances. As my father welcomed everyone, the sun shone and he instantly transformed an event on a synagogue patio into an intimate outdoor New England wedding.

He intertwined traditional wedding blessings with personal stories of how I was always “the life of the party”, even at an early age; he captured Rachel’s essence when describing her ability to bring a smile to the face of even the crankiest of her younger cousins. He fought back tears recounting how Rachel and I had met at camp twelve years earlier, and then he lost the fight as he passed on my grandmother’s wish for a happy life together. Here was the man who has run alongside me, holding onto the banana seat, as I learned to ride my first bicycle. And just as he has then, he let go and sent me off with the encouragement and love that only a parent can. The literal translation of the Hebrew word rabbi is “teacher.” My father has always been my teacher, and that day his lesson was clear: Weddings are about love and family. When those elements are present, everything else just falls into place.

Hang on...

Alright, this post is regarding my last post about double standards in relationships. And before any of you think Yasir put me up to this, he didn't..it's 100% from me. I am aware that some of you may read the post and think I'm venting my frustrations about my boyfriend. Well, I wasn't. I know a lot of people with psycho jealous boyfriends and Yasir doesn't belong in that category. He's so cool he doesn't need to take a chill pill in my book. So before rumours start spreading around like wildfire, I thought it's only fair to him that I clarify things - and for future reference there will be some posts in my blog that are general and not refering to my personal life. They're simply issues I want to address (whether seriously or for fun). Hope I've set the record straight! :)

`Aainaa

You can but I cannot meh?

Boys and girls, today I'd like to talk about double standards in relationships. This phenomena may be happening to you right now, at this very instant, right this second as you twirl that strand of hair between your fingers and stare at this blog with a "Huh?" look on your face. Sure I may sound like I'm being dramatic, and maybe I am. But have you ever stopped to wonder if you're a victim of DSIYR?

- Is it okay for your boyfriend to go out with his female colleagues for lunch, but when you go out with your male workmates, your boyfriend thinks they're taking you out to eat because they're hatching an evil plan to get into your pants?

- Do you let your boyfriend exchange casual sexual banter with other girls because you know it's for fun and you trust him, but when you do the same thing your boyfriend gets into a hissy fit (yes, guys can throw bitch fits - they just get all quiet and their jaw starts twitching) and he thinks your male friend just wants to get into your pants?

- Do you check out other girls with your boyfriend (i.e You go "Check out the funbags on that chick!" while you're hanging out at Coffee Bean and your boyfriend agrees), but when you point out a cute guy he gets into a hissy fit (again) and he thinks YOU want to get into EyeCandy boy's pants?

- Does he think any male that even talks to you just wants to get into your pants?

If you have said yes to any of the above, then you are, indeed, a victim. Ladies, check him the next time he decides to go all crazy on you. Men, if you're reading this, please acknowledge how cool your girlfriend is and take a chill pill.

And they say we women are unreasonable. Tsk.

Standing up for my sisters,
`Aainaa

Beauty Beauty Beauty

Just for fun, here are random beauty tips I've learned after only a month of working in the land of beauty:

Rubbing strawberries on your pearly whites help whiten them. But be sure to brush afterwards, unless you think cavities are a good look.

Wind is actually bad for your hair - strands of hair rubbing together will cause cuticle damage, so if you're in a windy place, tie your hair up. Just make sure you use soft ties, because rubberbands can break hair.

Don't rub your hair vigorously with a towel after washing your hair, this causes the dreaded frizz.

Dab some creamy concealer on your eyelids before putting on eyeshadow. The colour will pop, and it lasts longer.

If your eyeliner pencil is crumbling, store it in the freezer for 15 minutes and voila - it's good to go!

Alright, that's about it for now. Hope these tips made your day more beautiful! Have a beautiful day everyone! I'm going to go watch Beauty and The Beast!


Blowing you beautiful kisses,
`Aainaa

Hari Raya

I've been a very bad girl.

I know I pinkie swore in my previous blog that I would tell you about my new job, but between the flurry of writing about how not to clump your lashes with mascara (primer is good people!) and frantically grouping christmas makeup gift baskets into colour code for our christmas section, I have abandoned this blog and am sad to see cobwebs building up around it. If only I had internet access at home, then I would update it every weekend, but now I'm only able to write when I've actually got time to take a breather. There's a part of me that just feels like writing and writing and expressing myself, but then there's another part of me...that just wants to sleep after work, if I'm not buying something or looking at shoes.

So, Hari Raya has come...and err..not really gone because openhouses are only just starting, yay! As I'm typing this, I'm actually wearing my kebaya top with jeans because the big boss of this company is having an openhouse after work. I know some people find it annoying how people wear kebaya with jeans in an attempt to make it look modern, but I think mine actually looks pretty alright. No, seriously. Anyway, Raya has been good so far, but I'm still recuperating from all that rendang and lemang. By the fourth day, I couldn't even lay my eyes on any Malay food - I was screaming for good 'ol Italian pizza (screaming at The Boyfriend to order Domino's, in particular). And you know what the best thing is? I still get duit raya. My friends are amazed by this, but I'm happy because I've got really generous relatives. Just as long as I don't have any obvious grey hairs or deep crow's feet, I think I can still be a receiver of money for a few years to come. My sister is 27 forgodsakes and she still gets duit raya! So if any of my relatives are reading this and you were so kind enough to donate to the `Aainaa Charity for Petrol Money, I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

I was having a conversation with my sister (or maybe I should call it very brief chit chat while we were getting ready in front of the mirror because we don't really have 'conversations' per se - and it's usually one-sided) about how Hari Raya isn't that exciting anymore when you're an adult UNLESS: a) You just got married so you're ecstatic to be celebrating Raya as husband and wife, or b) You just gave birth to your first baby. I don't mean 'just' as in a few minutes before raya, I meant the baby has to be at least a few months old, obviously. You wouldn't want to spend raya in the hospital with leaking, sore boobs, no sirree.

Another thought that ran through my mind (I use the term 'ran' loosely, maybe it was more of 'flew') was when the heck am I supposed to start giving duit raya. I mean, I'm working - does that mean I automatically have to shove my money in other kids' hands? I know I should start sometime soon, but aren't there boxes you need to be able to tick, or requirements you need to meet in order to be eligible to give out money like candy? I know, I know, generosity comes from the heart...you either give or you don't if you're a stingy son-of-a-bitch. I unfortunately fall in between being a giver and a tight arse. I WISH I had money to give. Insya-Allah, by the next time Raya rolls around I'll be giving out those ang pows.

I'd have to say that the best part about this Hari Raya is that everyone is home and we're all together - this includes my weird cousin Kak Sheena, who is back from Germany. I haven't seen her for yonks, so it feels good that all the crazy cousins/sisters are back together. Plus I got to spend my first raya with Yasir, who had a shit Raya morning when I was throwing one of my diva tantrums but then forgave me when I felt embarassed and wished him Maaf Zahir dan Batin (convenient, eh?)

Time for pics!




Selamat Hari Raya, everyone.

sloppy lemang ketupat raya kisses,
`Aainaa