breather.

The past month has been one stressful, hectic blur - hence the lack of updates. My last day at Bluinc saw me frantically tearing out my hair and trying my best to complete my job bags at 12am, while at the same time clearing out my desk (thanks to good ol' Yasir, this entailed stuffing whatever I had into paperbags in record time). Thank god I didn't have THAT much junk accumulated throughout the year I was at Bluinc. The defining moment was leaving behind my office tag (it doesn't help that the picture of me on my tag is probably the ONLY decent looking passport photo I've ever taken in my life) and taking one last look at my now-empty desk; the place I had spent endless hours typing away about home recipes for limp hair, whiter teeth, cellulite or "Lace For Day" and "Three Ways To Wear That T-shirt Dress!". It felt surreal that I was leaving that world, the glossy pages of a magazine, and stepping into an entirely different, 'closer to reality' job.

I'm entirely grateful that today is a Public Holiday - at least this gives me 3 days to recuperate. The other day, I had to sit in on some classes at the Language Centre and observe the teachers and the students, y'know, just to get a feel of it. I sat in on a kids class, and was overwhelmed by the boundless energy they had, the questions they would ask (which mostly had nothing to do with the lesson - they were reading a story about how a man who lives on an island needed to find ways to earn money because he owes the Electricity company 1,000 pounds - after reading, this 9-year-old boy in class asks, with a serious look on his face as if he was asking the president a crisis question, "Teacher, if he lives on an island, how does he go shopping?!") Ahhh, kids. And apparently one girl in that particular class cries every 15 minutes, but because I was there, she held back her tears, god bless her little soul.

Oh by the way, Selamat Hari Merdeka. We may not be feeling patriotic because we're nowhere near '1 Malaysia', but when you have grandparents who tell you about how they suffered during the Japanese occupation from having to run and hide, terrified of being found and tortured to death, or how they lost a brother who was shot dead defending the country, you do start to count your little blessings and appreciate those that have perished just so we could call this country our own.

sloppy kisses.

It's been a while...

Haven't written lately because I'm just so darn out of it. Not sure out of what exactly, but I'm thinking it may be...life. I need a holiday, time to reflect on my life and everything that surrounds it, fills it and shapes it. I don't think this has anything to do with the fact that I just turned 26 (or does it?). I just need some 'me' time. I'm sure everyone feels like they need 'me' time too; but this is my blog and I'll rant about me. I've heard of this crisis that hits twenty-somethings. Usually, when you approach your mid-twenties, you feel lost, unsure if what you're doing is what you should be doing, and whether you should still continue doing it. You're still battling your career choices. Most of my close girlfriends aren't totally happy with the job they're in right now...and yes, we're all the same age. The fact that I've chosen a different career path is because I'm still weighing out my options, and I feel like I need to do something that is emotionally rewarding, if you will - and teaching fits the bill perfectly. If I had it my way, I would say my dream job would be to work with animals. But I can't bear seeing sick animals, so I'd have to work in a place where all the animals are healthy and happy. How does one go about becoming an animal trainer, I wonder? I would also love to travel...to see different cultures; experience them, smell them and eat them. I want to go to the commercial places like New York, Paris, Italy and Japan first...then I'll travel to remote islands. I don't really do jungles, but Africa is a dream too. My grandfather has always wanted me to be an English Professor. If I do decide to stay in the teaching line, that title sounds pretty darn appealing to me! I'd like to do my Masters, one step at a time first, then we'll see about getting a PhD. I suppose I'll need to brush up on my spelling and grammar, of course. Ha ha. I've always loved writing, I knew the minute I could put pen to paper, that I was a writer - I would write my own children stories when I was as little as four-years-old. The Peter and Jane series and Enid Blyton books inspired me then. I don't think I'll ever give up writing; if not I would die - how else am I going to express myself? I guess that's what this blog is for, I'd make up imaginary readers and pretend I was talking to them. Even if no one ever reads this.

From time to time, I'd ask myself - what is it that I really want? And the answer is... I haven't figured that out yet. In a way, that's the beauty of life; it gives you that challenge to keep on searching for what it is that will really fulfill you...and although at times you feel like you want to give up searching for it and you are willing to be stuck in that rut, you must never give up. Take risks, plunge into the unknown...change your job a 100 times if you must. Never, ever give up. If you have to stay in a safe job because of the money and you have responsibilities, go ahead, but dwell on things that bring out the real you. Take dance lessons if you love to dance, or audition for plays if you love acting, sell cakes if you love to bake. Life is too short to waste it away doing something you hate dragging yourself out of bed for.

the unthinkable

Yesterday, I tendered in my resignation as the Beauty and Fashion Writer of female magazine. The old 'Aainaa, a year ago, would think me to be utterly insane and out of my mind. And maybe I am, just a little bit. But this 'Aainaa, while scared of what's going to happen, is thankful that she has experienced what she's always wanted to do since she was little, which was to write, and is now eager to move on and try different things.

It's definitely a giant leap to go from writing in a women's magazine about makeup and fashion, to standing in front of a class and teaching English. But if ever there was a leap of faith, this is definitely it.

I'm a Kak, hear me roar!!!

In slightly more than a week from now, I'll be 26. I guess I'll only freak out when I hit 40. For now, I'm cool being almost 26. What's interesting though, is that salespeople tend to call me "kak" now. Somehow within the past 1 year, I've graduated from a "dik" to a kak. This is a little bit depressing when I think about it, because obviously, I look older than I used to. Must start using anti-ageing. Anyway, everytime someone calls me Kak, I fight the urge to turn around and look behind me. I'm so used to people thinking I'm still studying, possibly in my early twenties. In Melbourne, someone actually thought I was fifteen. No joke. Of course at the time she was trying to sell something and me looking fifteen is complete utter bullshit, but I was pretty pleased.

Today, while I was out loaning, I think a total of 3 people called me "Kak". Honestly, i'm having mixed feelings to this newfound status. On one hand, I'm glad salespeople take me seriously now and think I have money to buy that Tiffany & Co necklace I'm drooling over in the glass display(even when I don't), but on the other hand, reality is hitting me hard in the ass and I realise by the beard of Zeus, I AM older than most salespeople now! I'm going to be in my Mid-twenties! It's like how Angelina Jolie was the hottest thing in Hollywood then, but now she's just.....old. Okay, maybe not such a good example, but you know what I mean.

So I vow to myself, as I turn 26 and hit my mid-twenties, that I will accept my newfound 'Kak' status with grace. Next time a salesgirl calls me Kak, I'm going to let it wash over me and embrace it. I, 'Aainaa, am officially a Kak, and proud of it. If I'm feeling especially 'Kak'-ish, I'll call the salesperson "Dik" too, might be fun.

If anything, it could be worse - at least I'm not a 'Makcik' yet. Now THAT'S a whole different story.

Pink.

Past week in a nutshell:

Datuk's 83rd birthday, rushed to buy cake (Chocolate indulgence mmmm) from Secret Recipe. Had a kecoh celebration at the house, ate a lot. Went to work the next day on a Sunday because of 50 Gorgeous shoot. Helped a guy put on contact lense for more than half-an-hour but didn't end up wearing coloured lenses in the end. Ran around like a headless chicken trying to pick outfits for the talents to wear and check on makeup and hair. Had a conversation with a model on how birth control pills made her boobs go two sizes up. Contemplated. Saw boobies. Contemplated again. Rushed back to the house after work, stuffed some clothes in paperbags and got into Yasir's car. Went to Shuq and Sharina's house. Shot video clip (not going to elaborate further, but it's not what you think), had satay. Slept on the way home, think I snored a little. Very tired. Monday morning picked Diyana up looking like a zombie, brought her to the office for Make Me Over shoot. Met Shu Uemura makeup artist, called Shirley from Shu Uemura to clarify the looks for October. Decided on the latest Fall collection - one colourful look, one nude bronze. Had my makeup done. Shot my Beauty Picks. Grumbled about looking fat. Return loans at Mid Valley. Returned and picked up loans from Pavilion. Butted heads with stupid NOSE store manager who was bloody rude and kept on huffing and puffing, felt like smacking her head BAIK PUNYER. Vowed to never loan from NOSE again. E-mailed PR person for NOSE and filed a complaint about bitch of a manager. Contemplated career. Shot out e-mails, e-mails, emails about loaning. Loans again. Got about two articles done. Product shoot. 50 gorgeous shoot again, another round of running around like a headless chicken. Freaked out about the amount of job bags not done. Shot out e-mails again for OBSESSIONS article, where the heck am i going to find nice travel bags?? Made a hundred thousand phone calls. Today, went to bangsar to return loans at Cats Whiskers, tea & Sympathy. Realised gossips loans are not in the car. FUCK. Made mental note to go to bangsar again tomorrow. Finally had Making Cookies Baskin Robbins ice cream. Sickly sweet, ugh. At yasir's office as we speak, replying work e-mails on a Saturday. Tried to change blog template to the one downloaded off another sight. Gave up and switched to boring pink template.

Tired.

hamming it up for the camera

Beauty Picks page, female's July issue. Taisu from Shu Uemura did my makeup - he's really good. The look was kept very natural and light. It's the body issue, so they put almost my whole body on the page, to go with the theme and the bodycare products I picked.

This shoot was for October's Beauty Picks and we used Shu Uemura again. The makeup artist, Anges, used this really cool turqouise gel eyeliner on my lids (click on the pic to zoom in on the eye makeup) which will be out around October too. Theme is sorta like....beach holiday easy breezy........hence the bikini and island printed dress. This pic will be cropped though to just come up to my chest.

The first time I had to take a photo for female magazine, man, I was really stiff. And my makeup was pretty horrible too. Think I've learned to loosen up a bit though, thank god. I suppose having a fan blowing in your face helps a bit. Haha. But it majorly sucks that the camera DOES put on ten friggin pounds. Now I know why models have to be stick thin!

Alright, I'm off to bed, night!

crybaby

As I'm writing this, I'm wiping away just a wee tiny tear (okay, maybe not soo tiny) from having watch a mother give birth on the Discovery Home and Health channel (733 for those of you who are clueless). Man, I'm such a sucker. What is it with me and feeling overwhelmed witnessing the moment a mother holds her newborn baby in her arms? I swear, I get choked up every single time. Even that friends episode where Rachel held her baby, I could feel this weird feeling in my chest! I suppose I get emotional, imagining what it must feel like to finally meet this creature that has been kicking around in your stomach for the past 9 months, knowing that you're solely responsible for this tiny little being's life from now on. The feeling must be too overwhelming and big for words, something you've never felt, or even come close to feeling before. Only at that very moment as you're holding your newborn baby, all sweaty and achy from pushing can you experience what other mothers have gone through...all the pain just melts away for an instant when you cradle YOUR baby in the nook of your arm and come to terms that you are indeed, now a mother. Wow, imagine what that must feel like...

Some people find it weird that I have such strong maternal instincts, considering that I have the tendency to look like your typical 'party girl'. Maybe one day, I might show my kids my 'party girl' pics and they might think their naggy and saggy ol' mom was quite hip back in the day and actually listen to me when I tell them they don't have to smoke or drink to have fun. I've got my line memorised down pat: "Tengok mama dulu, I didn't have to drink or smoke even if everyone around me was doing it! Mama tahu, your friends will be pressuring you to drink. You really don't have to give into peer pressure, people will respect your principles if you are adamant on standing by them!" Then this is when I give them the best advice "Besides, why spend money on alcohol and ciggs when you can shop, betul tak?? Common sense!"

sloppy kisses.

p/s: The boy on the Discovery Learning Channel promo on Astro (the one where it's a montage of kids - mostly girls from CBN for some strange reason) who says something about wanting to build a big house so his mother and father can live in it gets me...every. single. friggin. time. Sniff. Must be that time of the month again.

It's Aainaa, bitch

Sometimes I wonder why I have to keep other people's best interest at heart when they don't really bother about MY best interest? Wait, does 'best interest' mean 'jaga hati' in English? Hmmm. I may be talking about something different entirely. Whatever, all I know is, a lot of the times I feel like I should go all crazy and just be a total bitch, like how other people can just go all crazy and be total bitches. But no, because I don't want to hurt other people, I've decided to stay completely sane instead. Am I really too nice? Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

p/s: Sorry about all the random, short posts. In an effort to update my blog in the midst of all the craziness, these short bursts will have to do for now. Better than nothing, right?

Chillin'

Four of my cats hanging out outside, as usual. Sorta looks like a boyband pic - you know, where the dudes are all just standing about trying to look cool. Our latest addition to the family, Mojo, is not photographed here. And Itit too. Oh well.

Random recent pic taken at Envie (a club which ACTUALLY plays RnB! Wow!) because I'm just being random.

Back to writing about hair!

Sloppy kissies.

tired.

i'm too tired to even think of a decent title to this blog post. I'm just.....tired. Fashion = tiring. Someone once asked me if I had a choice, would I stick to beauty or convert entirely to fashion? I have no idea. I like fashion, but it takes up too much time and energy. Gah. GAH! It's different if you work in Vogue and the fashion brands come to YOU. Okay, my fingers are tired from writing...was out loaning the whole day, carrying shopping bags.

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Keep it simple, stupid

I was attracted to the opposite sex for the first time when I was two-years-old.

No, I don't think I'm exaggerating (or maybe I was two going on three? hmm), believe it or not - I remember having the hugest crush EVER on the son of this lady named Mrs. Burhan, who owned the nursery my parents used to send me to. In fact, I still remember his name, Najib. He was this yummy-looking boy with dark, curly hair and piercing eyes which penetrated the depths of my then two-year-old soul to the very core. Najib was my sister's age; two years older than I was and I felt inadequate and immature next to him. I mean, he was practically a man wasn't he? Everytime he passed by I would hide my milk bottle under my pillow (the nursery would let us lie down and suck on a bottle from time to time for feeding time). We used to watch cartoons together too, sometimes he would smile at me, but he never really fully acknowledged my existance. Whatever. I knew I had bigger fish to fry.

Then when I was four, I had my first 'sorta' boyfriend. My mom's best friend's son, Faizal. He was my age, so we were compatible, of course. I mean, we were on the same wavelength! Although come to think of it, I don't think we said anything to each other much. It was like a 'silent connection' sort of thing, you know? I was staying near the beach in Johor Bahru then and we used to go dating under some trees, while my mom and her bestfriend watched us, from like, 1 metre away. I saved my prettiest dresses for those 'dating under the tree' ocassions and giggled a lot. I think he even tried to hold my hand once. We went our seperate ways soon after, I guess it wasn't meant to be. Thank god, because last I heard, he's married with kids.

Ahh, kindergarten. This was the time when hormones raged and the opposite sex filled my mind 24/7 in between colouring and spelling lessons. Thoughts like 'Did he notice that I put a nice ribbon in my hair today?' and 'Why is he playing swings with that hussy?!' ran through my mind ocassionally when I was interested in someone in particular. Besides having to flush my packed-from-home lunchtime sandwiches down the toilet bowl on a daily basis, I had to deal with how I acted around 5-year-old boys. Life was tough, but I enjoyed every second. Especially when my crush used to follow me around the classroom and mimic every single thing I did. I used to just giggle and snort uncontrollably. I guess giggling was the only thing I used to do back then in front of a boy. Sure, we could have talked about other stuff, like how I thought my mom's strawberry jam sandwhiches were yucky or if he prefered the Orange Cod Liver Oil to the white one (orange!) or which pony in My Little Pony was the prettiest (Lickety Split, duh). But I stuck to giggling coyly. I was a flirty little thing back then, me.

High school was the toughest. I was painfully, painfully shy around boys. These were the years where I had yet to discover contact lenses so I had to wear glasses, yet was too vain to wear glasses so I would bump into things a lot, or ignore someone completely because I couldn't see that person, even if he or she was shouting my name and everyone would stop and stare but I would scuffle away hurriedly and act like I didn't hear anything. Going to an all-girls school made it worse. Boys were like alien creatures to me. I envied the girls in the bus who unbuttoned their baju kurungs and laughed with the boys at the back while I read my Sweet Valley books and kept my legs shut tightly just in case the boys could see anything up my pinafore skirt. Despite all this, I had my first boyfriend then. But it was more of a relationship over the phone, really. At least he used to buy me Famous Amos cookies and Big Macs and place them outside my gate, which was nice.

It was so simple and sweet back then. Then came the phases in my life involving the opposite sex where it gradually got complicated, intense and even more complicated at times, with my fair share of "omg what was I thinking? ugh!" experiences and moments. But at least after all the mumbo jumbo, ups and downs and "it's complicated" relationship statuses on Friendster and Myspace, you learn to appreciate a 'simple and sweet' relationship more when you actually find it again, don't you? And nothing feels better than when you finally get to click the 'In a relationship' button on facebook, hands down. :)

This is a happy post # god knows

I find myself extremely busy lately and haven't really had time to "stop and smell the roses". So these are the (some may find petty) things that make me happy:

- Skater doing his 'motorboat' purr just by me being near him

- Good cereal on the table in the morning (none of that dry, wheat-y stuff please)

- Room service when I'm staying at a hotel

- Karaoke nights. Must-warble songs: Killing me softly, Never find someone like you, Sexy love.

- Beating Dickie (my sister's annoying boyfriend) on Guitar Hero Medium EVERY SINGLE TIME! HAH!

- Maine deleting PP's text msg folder on her phone. This makes me VERY happy, actually

- Yasir helping me with my fashion loan returns. It's a lot of paper bagssssss

- Finally buying a fresh Clinique Superpowder Double Powder compact. Was scraping the bottom of the barrel (did i spell that right?) with the old one. I swear, the stuff lasts for years!

- Getting a blowdry at the salon and not having it rain the moment I step out (thank you God!)

- FINALLY having the time to update my blog.

Sloppy kisses!

Fate

Just half an hour ago, Yasir and I put a kitten to sleep.

I saw the tiny little kitten yesterday, when I was about to drop Yasir off at his office. I won't go into details about what I saw exactly (it involved a motorcycle and the kitten bleeding), but let's just say I was hysterical, clinging on to Yasir's shirt, crying. I felt helpless, I didn't know what to do so I resorted to praying hard to God to keep that kitten safe, or put it out of its misery, so it wouldn't have to suffer. The whole day while I was out, the image of what I saw flashed through my mind every few minutes. I prayed and prayed it wasn't suffering, that it was at peace. I don't think I've prayed for anything as hard in my life. This morning, when Yasir called me and told me the kitten wasn't anywhere to be found, I felt restless. What if it was wondering around, hurt? A part of me wanted to make up this whole scenario where the kitten was barely scratched and a kind passerby had picked it up, with the intention of giving it a new home. Another part knew it was too good to be true.

A few hours ago, as I was driving home from work, I had my night planned out - dinner at home, veg out on the couch for some much needed lazing-around time while I watched back-to-back comedy on StarWorld. Suddenly, Yasir called, and he told me he was hungry. So I changed my plans and decided to pick him up so we could get some food. Then we drove to KFC, and the place looked quite full, so Yasir suggested we pack up the chicken and eat at his office instead. I agreed.

The second we reached Yasir's office and were pulling up into the driveway, a tiny figure crossed right in front of my car. It was the kitten. Naturally, I panicked. I went out of the car, scared to go near it, afraid of what I would see. But I went to it anyway. Its nose was caked with blood, one eye gone, but it was walking around, meowing loudly. My heart crumbled to pieces. It obviously had been hit, and it looked like it was in pain. What was I supposed to do? I couldn't even imagine leaving it there - that wasn't even an option. It meowed loudly at my feet, so i tried feeding it some of Yasir's KFC...but it wouldn't go near it. Finally, Yasir grabbed a box and I put the kitten in, and we drove off to the nearest animal hospital.

At the hospital, the vet said she wanted to conduct all sorts of tests on the kitten. X-Rays,Blood tests etc...and I knew that it could all lead up to a lot of money. I had previously brought Skater there to do different tests, and it came up to almost RM600. I knew I couldn't afford it. But I wanted desperately to save the kitten. I agreed to pay the deposit of RM350 so they could carry out the tests, but I didn't have money on me, so I handed my debit card. The nurse swiped it a few times. Declined. Swiped it again. Declined. So Yasir and I told her we were going to find the nearest ATM to withdraw money. Although I had made the initial decision to put the kitten through the tests, something didn't quite feel right. I blurted out to Yasir, "If you think putting it to sleep is the best thing to do, just please, please, make this decision for me. You do it," I cried, tears streaming down my face. It broke my heart, and a heavy feeling rested on my chest. We sat in the car, trying to make the hardest decision we've ever made together so far, as a couple.We had a lot to ponder about - what if we gave the green light to conduct all these tests, but in the end they find that the kitten just cannot be saved, due to extensive internal injury? It's happened to me countless of times. I've brought a cat to the vet, spent a bomb, and in the end it still passed away. At that exact same hospital.

But then another feeling took over me as I realised that maybe God was trying to answer my prayers. Why did I decide to have dinner with Yasir at the very last minute, when in fact I was set on resting at home, because I was tired? Was it a coincidence that Yasir and I decided not to eat at KFC, but bring it back to his office? And if it weren't for us deciding to go back to Yasir's office, the kitten might have never crossed in front of us, at the exact same moment we were pulling up into the office driveway. Previously, during the day, Yasir went searching for the kitten, but couldn't find it anywhere. And it so happens that tonight, it came back. I know you may be thinking, I'm trying to make myself feel better, maybe I am, but I believe that everything happens for a reason. And maybe, just maybe, I was there, at the right time, at the right moment.

In the end, we decided to put it to sleep. It had suffered enough, and the best thing seemed to let it pass away peacefully. To put it through endless tests seemed like an even cruel thing to do, and I knew I had to be realistic - I couldn't afford it. So with a heavy heart, Yasir trudged into the animal hospital as I sat in the car, staring off into space. I couldn't bear to set foot in that place then. After what seemed like an eternity later, Yasir came back to the car. I cried. Yasir hugged me and kissed my forehead.

I remember the nurse asking me the kitten's name when I first brought it in. I didn't know then if it would be appropriate to name the kitten, I didn't even know if it was Male or Female, but the first name that ran through my mind was...Fate.

Sleep peacefully Fate...may you be running around, carefree, your spirit free and far from all the suffering you had to endure. May you never have to feel pain and be alone again.

Just for the record..

I feel like I need to clear some things up. This has to do with how I approach my relationships. While it may come as a shock to some people, but I, 'Aainaa never....

• Tell my boyfriend he CANNOT wear something. He can wear the same thing three days in a row for all I care, as long as he doesn't stink to high heavens. I may make suggestions on what looks good and what doesn't, but isn't that what girlfriends are for? I ask my boyfriend if something looks good/crap on me, so it should work both ways, shouldn't it?
• Not let him hang out with his friends. Hanging out is good. I would never, ever forbid him from seeing his friends. Sure, there will be an ocassion where his friends will ask him to hang out, but then it's my sister's birthday and my mom wants to bring us all to dinner - so it would be nice if he came with the family because my mom especially, would like him to be there. I don't think I'm worthy enough to be thought as a control freak if I asked him to be there, would I?
• Try to change him into something he isn't. If before we got together, he was a drinker and he smoked, I wouldn't give him an ultimatum and tell him to quit cold turkey. In fact, I know some girlfriends might force their boyfriend to quit drinking and smoking (which, if you think about it, isn't even a BAD THING). I would encourage my boyfriend to quit drinking if we were to get married, for our children's sake though. Is there really anything wrong with that?
• Force him to spend time with me. If he's with me every waking moment, it's because he WANTS to be with me. Believe it or not, I didn't point a gun to his head.
• Pay for all my meals, clothes etc I certainly don't expect him to pay for food all the time, let alone for my shopping. Only when he offers to pay do I let him. Other than that, I'm happy to take out my wallet and pay my fair share, no questions asked.
• Want to interrupt on 'guy time'. If my boyfriend is meeting the boys and wants me to come along, I'd usually ask if it's meant to be an all boys night. I would never, ever force my boyfriend to bring me when he's meeting his guy friends. I usually tag along because he says it's perfectly fine and he wants me to be there.

That's about it for now. I'm just a little sick with people assuming what type of girlfriend I am. Truthfully, I should be immuned to it by now, because I'm used to people taking one look at me and summing up my personality in 3 seconds. Really, I'm not a bad person, and I KNOW I'm not a bad girlfriend. So don't do the shallow thing most people do and jump to conclusions - it's very degrading.

This is me letting off a bit of steam. Next post might be happier.

Shout out to my man for this past week

...because you surprised me with a kitten which you picked up at the mamak (who is now named Cashmere 'del ohos locos' Kapoor - we just call him Cash), driving Skeet, me and Cash to the vet on Sunday, bringing your PS3 and Guitar Hero to the house because you knew how much I wanted to play and connecting it to the tv then disconnecting it again because I want to watch Astro, going with me to the salon as usual to get my ritual done, driving me to do a COD for the billionth time, eating Dunkin Doughnuts crossaints with me at a random Petronas station for dinner, letting me drive your car while you drove mine because my Waja's radio doesn't work, secretly filling up my gas tank on the way to my house because it was on E, telling me I look beautiful EVERY SINGLE DAY even when I don't, helping me look for Skeet after work because I panicked when he didn't come home (but he did in the end! :D), burning a CD for me because you know all the CDs in the Waja are boring the hell outta me, just putting up with my crazy (and sometimes moody) randomness.

It may sound corny, but baby you rock my world ;)

Here's to my mom

Mother's Day is coming up. So this post is dedicated to my mom:

Mama, thanks for...

- forcing me to take our Cod's Liver Oil and vitamins in the morning before I went off to school. I hated how it tasted, but I know it's because you want me to grow up healthy and strong.

- putting a cold towel on my forehead when I fell sick and had a burning fever. You would wake up countless times in the middle of the night just to check my temperature, rinse the towel with water again and put it back on my forehead.

- organising birthday parties for me, taking the time and energy to prepare food and snacks for my friends. I still remember that Birthday Pool Party I had...you suggested it, and we all had a blast. One of the birthdays I will never, ever forget.

- staying strong in front of kakak and me when That Man left us. We never saw you emotional and you got back up on your own two feet because you knew you had to, for kakak and my sake. You worked three jobs, day and night just to support us and put food on the table.

- fetching and sending kakak and me to school, from school, to tuition, from tuition, to UiTM, from UiTM...

- always being the first to break the ice after we have our arguments. They say a mother's love is unconditional, and I know that that's the absolute truth.

- letting me go to Melbourne to further my studies. You knew it was going to be tough to help pay for my fees, but because you saw how much it meant to me, you let me go in the end, despite all odds and having to sell off a car.

- still putting breakfast on the table every morning when I wake up. And the packed lunches you leave on the table for me to take to work!

- wanting to be involved in my personal life. Asking questions about the guy I'm dating, always wanting the best for me and giving me advice. I know you're scared I'll go down the same road you did when it came to men, but you have to trust I'll make the right decisions in the end.


Mama, even though I'm no longer your little daughter, know I've learned a lot from a strong, phenomenal woman like you. While we do have our differences, I will always have you up there on a pedestal, and you are one of the strongest women I know or will ever know. I am proud to have a mother like you.

Happy Mother's Day ma. I love you.

With love always,
Your daughter `Aainaa

Life update

It's been ages.

Past two weeks in a nutshell:

Came down with a fever. Throat hurt like fuck, especially at night, causing tossing and turning, resulting in lack of sleep and dark under eye circles. Looked like hell on a bad day. Missed 2 days of work. Body started aching like mad, as if had been working ass of at the gym when in fact, am at home, SLEEPING and COUGHING ass off. Felt a bit paranoid about the Swine flu (touch wood) but boyfriend convinced me otherwise. Lost appetite, hoping it would lead to weight loss, but appetite came back with a VENGEANCE. Realised Dots is getting fat, but that's because he eats ten times a day.Came back to work with a shitload of stuff to do, still a bit sick but rushing here and there. Advertorials, advertorials, advertorials. Best friend came down from Singapore, managed to squeeze in a chilling out session at Luna Bar. Made a group decision never to go there again because cover charge is 50 frikking bucks and you have to pay 70 bucks just to cut a birthday cake. Right. No wonder no one ever goes there anymore. Decided that pounding glass walls due to loud music is a bit scary anyway (Maine will know what I'm talking about). Went karaoke with the colleagues and finished session with The Cheeky Girls Song. Super fun.Contemplated life, turning 26 years old. Told boyfriend that I'm getting old and still haven't swam with dolphins, which is a bit depressing. Went to pet store in GE Mall and checked out the fat cats. Not a fan of fish, but marvelled at the different colours of fish they had. Watched Wolverine and drooled over Ryan Reynolds, before he turned into scary mutant with mouth sewn shut. Upset that Ryan's part in the movie was way too short. Had massive fight with boyfriend. Slept in the TV room for 3 nights because airconditioning in room is crap. Made up with boyfriend by playing Gutar Hero together. Beat Slash in the challenge on a first try. I AM A ROCK GOD. Finally finished July articles, starting on August. Guitar Hero night again tonight - Maine and maybe Dina coming over. Will kick ass at Guitar Hero. ROCK ON MOTHERFUCKERS!!!

Sloppy kisses!

Here, kitty kitty!

I've developed this new habit which people around me might find a little creepy. I stare at every cat that crosses my path and suss out whether or not I should kidnap it. Obviously I'm not about to go and steal someone else's cat, so don't worry, I'm not THAT cuckoo. These past few weeks, I've been on the hunt for a stray kitten (preferably not adult cat, as to avoid it from butting heads with my other cats too much) who is seeking unconditional love and a new home. I suppose my sister and I are so used to having a lot of cats, that our home feels a little bare with only It (a kitten that appeared out of nowhere - who is now FULLY GROWN,FAT and definitely not a kitten anymore ) Dots, Rini and Skater, also known as Skeet. Skeet was a rescue kitten too - I was driving home from work one night and thanks to my 'Feline senses', I spotted him in the middle of the road, this teeny tiny little thing, barely casting a shadow. What followed happened in barely 2 seconds - screeched to a halt by the side of the road, jumped out of my car barefoot, ran to him before he could register what was happening and took off with him on my lap. The poor thing was shivering (I couldn't decide whether from fear or cold - but I think it was the former) and I fed him Friskies when we reached home, watching him barely chewing but gulping down everything in sight. And after giving him his shots and other whatnots, I'm happy to report that he's fitting in quite nicely (although Dots finds his playful kitten banter annoying from time to time and Itit has this tendency to slap him if he gets in the way and Rini had jealousy issues in the beginning, but despite all that I think they've definitely warmed up). To this day, I feel lucky to have been in the right place at the right time :)

Back to the topic of extending my feline familia - I didn't know my sister was thinking the same thing, only till a few nights ago when we were watching American Idol and she randomly sighed, "We need a kitten..." did I realise we both missed having cats swarming around us, running about in the house, practically making us trip everytime we called them for feeding time. I laughed and told her my story of wanting to kidnap every kitten which crossed my path. Then a few minutes later when I was saying goodbye to Yasir at the door, we heard a soft meow - unmistakeably a kitten's - and we saw a tiny black and white kitten outside my gate. I was ecstatic thinking god must have heard my prayers and this kitten was a gift from Cat Heaven. So I tried tiptoeing to it slowly...but it ran, scared, into a deep drain. Shit. I tried using cat food as bait, but it wouldn't come out from hiding. When Yasir left, I ran back into the house and woke my sleeping sister up to tell her about the kitten, and despite her grogginess (bless her cat-loving soul) she immediately went out of the house with me to the drain. So there we were, in our ratty pyjamas in the dark, squatting next to a smelly drain, trying to keep very still for what seemed like half-an-hour, but no sign of Mysterious Kitten. Sigh. In the end we gave up and trodded back into the house, disappointed. Oh well, maybe next time.

Some people may find having four cats more than enough, but for a person who used to have 14 cats, four seems like a tiny, tiny number. Sure it may cost a lot of money (shots aren't cheap, and what about catfood?) but there's just something about the company of cats that you can't find anywhere else. And yes, like dogs, cats give you unconditional love too. I have no doubt in my mind that my children will love cats as much as i do, we'll definitely have a household cat/cats and I couldn't imagine being with a guy who didn't love his furry felines (Yasir has a fluffy marmalade coloured cat named Bobo). Call me the crazy Cat Lady if you wish, but I wouldn't have it any other way!

So till I find my kitten, I'm just going to keep on looking. SPCA seems like a good option too. We'll see!

Do you want to be in female magazine?

I'm always looking for girls who would love to appear in our pages for a small makeover or to test out a product/treatment. Two sections of the magazine specifically : Make Me Over (flip to our Beauty Advisor section) and Tries (flip to Beauty Beat..this is where the reader tests out a product and reviews it). Requirements? You really don't have to be model pretty, we feature 'real women' in these sections - just practice your best smile! Haha.

Interested? Drop me a comment here, or e-mail me at aainaa.bluinc@gmail.com and we'll go from there. Don't worry about seeming 'perasan' by wanting to participate, it's a good experience (especially if you get to try out a treatment worth a couple of hundred). If not, what's wrong in a once-in-a-lifetime experience of shooting for a mag?

Oh, and one teeny, tiny thing...shoots will be during a weekday, so if you don't mind taking a day off work or half day (presuming you are working) then awesome. Students are welcome too, I think the minimum age should be 17 or 18 though (unless you look matured).

SPREAD THE WORD, PEOPLE!

sloppy kisses!

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!

Off to Phuket!

So the whole drama with my passport is finally over. I cannot explain to you the overwhelming feeling I got when they handed me a brand spanking new one, its shiny red cover beaming under the harsh fluorescent light. Granted, I look like an Indon maid in this new passport, but it's only slightly uglier than my Philippine maid impersonation in my old one, so that's okay. And I think God must have felt how relieved I was, because as I got into my car to drive off and proceed to leave a cloud of dust behind, We Are The Champions came on the radio. Of course I cranked it up and warbled my heart out, letting the overwhelming sense of accomplishment wash over me. If I can handle losing my passport, going to Imigration for 3 days, running around like a chicken that's lost its head, harassing officers via phone calls, coping with "Duduk dulu...duduk dulu" and finally, FINALLY getting a new one done in a week despite all odds, then I, `Aainaa bte. Yahya, can accomplish anything.

Anyway, this is a promise to post up pics when I get back. If I don't, I give you permission to say I suck. In the meantime, here is a pic of Phi Phi Island (which I will be going to, ahem) for you to feast your eyes on.


Don't hate me. Heh heh.

sloppy beachy kisses!

p/s: special shout out to my man who had to wake up at 6am to keep me company during the whole Passport situation. I belanja sushi what..orait la tu :P

The case of the missing passport

My passport has been MIA for a couple of months now. I would like to think it's off traveling to Egypt to check out the pyramids, suntanning in the Caribbean, making out with some French hottie in Paris or shopping for fabulous finds at Barneys in New York. Well, whatever shenanigans it may be up to, if ever I see its scrawny, bumpy red ass, I would give it the sharpest slap, drag it by its cover, and shout, "WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, DISAPPEARING ON ME LIKE THAT?? YOU LITTLE SLUT!!!!! YOU WHORE-Y, BITCHY LITTLE PASSPORT! NOW SIT HERE LOCKED UP IN THIS DRAWER SO I KNOW WHERE TO FIND YOU!!!!"

I know, pretty harsh. But that's what you get for making me spend HOURS at Immigration this morning.

Fucker.

Pic of the week (haha)

My attempt at putting up pics on this blog - Nadia's 26th birthday at Hard Rock, on a workday! From left - Shaz, Hirda, Yours Truly, Birthday Girl Nadia. Can't believe we're 26th this year! Here's to many more fabulous adventures to come ;)

...and the battle rages on.

I'd like to let off a little steam here. I'm 26 this year,right? So why does my skin still INSIST on behaving like a horny teenage boy's? Just this morning I woke up, looked into the mirror and stared at an offending-looking zit on my cheek staring right back at me. I suppose it decided to keep the other pimple on my forehead company. How sweet. If I could write my skin a letter, here's how it would sound like:-

Dear skin,

Hey, how are you? Not so good, I imagine. What with all the breaking out you've been doing. I mean, really? How long has it been now - over 12 years? You must be really, really tired. I know we haven't been the best of friends, I've fought you tooth and nail everytime you decided it's time for another batch of zits just for funzies..I've slapped on almost every product available out there in the market for acne-prone skin - Proactive (the one Jessica Simpson swears her short Daisy Dukes by), antibiotics, tea tree oil...lord knows what other chemicals I've smothered you in. But you would always win, you're a fighter when it comes to making me miserable. Remember this one time I almost wanted to scrape you off with my fingernails because I was breaking out so bad and I didn't want to go out of the house? It was Hari Raya forgodsakes - all the new clothes I put on couldn't drown out my frustration with you. It didn't help that my relatives would go "Ni kuat berangan ni!" or the more tactful "Eeeee banyaknya jerawat!" when I came to salam them. Very frustrating times indeed, I must say. I really just wanted to live under a rock! Then there were phases where you insisted on two or more portruding pimples after the other, and my self-confidence was crushed. I couldn't leave the house without foundation and concealer on, even if it was just a short trip to the grocers. You must have been laughing your head off with glee every single time I broke down!

Then, someone told me about going to a dermatologist. I knew it would cost a shitload of money, but I was desperate. So I went. And I swallowed pills. And then IT WAS MY TURN to laugh in your face, because you finally had to stop your evil ways. You actually behaved!! I was ecstatic, finally I didn't have to look down at my shoes when talking to someone! FINALLY I could wake up in the morning, and a monstrous pimple wouldn't have grown viciously overnight! FINALLY I got my self-confidence back! But it wasn't cheap taming you and keeping you from going back to your evil ways - it took thousands and thousands just to keep you clear. And after a few years, I knew I couldn't keep spending that kind of money, so I stopped taking those 'magical' pills.

And here we are, skin, just you and me - back to square one. It's been a long, hard battle between the both of us, after all these years. 12 years is a bit ridiculous even for a feud, don't you think? The pills have long worn off, and you're slowly starting to go back to your usual ways. True, you may be a bit mild-mannered than before, but my forehead is still breaking out, and of course, there's that occassional zit on my cheek. I really don't know when you'll tire of it all, and sometimes I feel like that day will never come. Which, when you think about it, is fucking scary. Look, be sensible here - I'm a Beauty Writer; I don't think it would be cool to meet clients with a pimply face, would it? So listen, why don't we be friends and put our past behind us? What say you let me move on with my life and concentrate on actually acting like an adult? I'm not saying you should start giving me wrinkles now (LORD NO), but you know...it would be nice if you gave me a break already, and maybe I'll give you a break. Thanks, I really really appreciate it. If you behave, I'll even start treating you to expensive facials. I promise. Friends?

Yours in good health,
'Aainaa

p/s: While we're at it, could you talk to Hair and tell her not to be so frizzy? Appreciate it.

25 random things

Ok, so I know everyone on facebook is doing this thing, and I've done mine, but I didn't really give it much thought (wrote it in 5 minutes!), so I felt like re-doing it all over again. Have no idea what I'm going to write, but should be (remotely) interesting. I'm still sticking with the whole 'random' bits of info, so don't expect this post to be life changing. Haha. Here goes:-

1) I can't wait for my hair to grow long. I used to have hair which went down to my armpits, poker straight too - now it's always slightly shorter than shoulder-length. Time for a changeeee!

2) I can't really stand Malay acting. But I can do the intonation really well though (you know, their voice intonation where everything they say sounds reaaaaaalllyyy natural and convincing)- I do a mean 'Malay-mengada-wife' who calls her husband 'abang' and pouts like a fish.

2) One time when I was little, I stole cotton balls from a torn bag in a pharmacy. They were so fluffy and colourful, I thought they were like unedible pieces of cotton candy and I HAD TO HAVE THEM.

3) Boys used to love chasing me around the classroom in kindergarten. I thought that was quite cool.

4) I mostly shave my legs in the car.

5) When my cat sleeps on me, I'll do whatever it takes not to move and wake him/her up. My legs and arms would cramp up, but I'll stay in that position as long as my cat's comfortable.

6) I just googled "Garden wedding planning" 5 minutes ago. Yeppp.

7)I think the ghosts in Pacman are mean, cunning son-of-a-bitches!!

8) I once almost fainted after they took my blood for a blood test. I started getting all lightheaded and sweaty - I can't accept the fact that my blood is unwillingly being sucked out from my vein.

9)Oh, once in std. two, I almost fainted when we sang the "...tanah tumpahnya darahku" line in Negaraku. I think it was because I imagined blood spilling all over on to the ground.

10)I can be very graphic when it comes to my imagination.

11) I used to have very smelly feet when I was young. The cute guy who worked in a shoe store once took off my shoes and scrunched up his nose. I knew then I needed to get help - thank god I stopped wearing sneakers.

12) I've lived in three haunted houses.

13) I'm more tolerant of public burps now. I used to giggle hysterically whenever anyone around me used to let out a burp. Once, my BM tutor burped loudly when he said "Ti-tik" and I couldn't stop laughing until the end of that lesson.

14) When I laugh hard, my nostrils flare. And according to Yasir, I laugh like an Arab man.

15) I never burp. I don't really know how to.

16) I like singing random songs in a Disney Princess voice, particularly Snow White's. I think my fairytale rendition of Paramore's "That's what you get" is fantastic.

17) I was proud when I got my first period. I felt like I was 12-years-old going on 20. I remember showing my stained undies to my best friend Zara in our school toilet and grinning like mad when she confirmed I was indeed, now a woman.

18) The filling in my back tooth from my root canal has fallen out since middle of last year. I still have a huge hole there and I always gargle after a meal so food doesn't get stuck. Wow, that's pretty disgusting!

19) I love pretending I'm a mermaid when I'm swimming and I'm the most graceful creature on earth.

20) I'm going to have a son called Ayden one day. And I'm toying with the name Delailah for my daughter, because they both go so good together. I imagine myself introducing them to people all the time. Me at a kid's birthday party: "This is Ayden and Delailah. Salam uncle! Salam! SALAM MAMA CAKAP!!"

21) When I first get married, I'll be calling my husband 'abang' just to annoy him. And pouting when I say this.

22) My excercise when I'm feeling fat : 5 leg lifts on each side and I'm done.

23) Right now I'm worried because I have an Elseve advertorial to start on and I don't have a clue what it will be about!! And I still haven't found someone to test out this frikkin DIY haircolouring thing! aaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!

24) I have this strange tendency to eat food that has passed its due date.

25) My favourite thing in the universe is when I receive comments on my blog. At least I know I'm not talking to myself?

sloppy kisses!

Yippeeeee!

Yours truly is now officially a Beauty Writer for female magazine! Bring out the (non-alco) bubbly!

sloppy Beauty Writer kisses!

Another shout out!

...to my homegirl Shikin, for texting me this morning saying she read my 'sirih' post and that she's been following my blog since Day 1 - and all this while I had nooo idea. Yay to Shikin! :D

p/s: I believe it's the other way round - YOU made my gloomy Monday morning, darling.

sloppy kisses!

My mom on meeting a husband

So this morning I was watching American Idol auditions (for some strange reason they weren't showing the usual re-run of Friends..damn you starworld! You have messed with the order of my universe!) and my mom walks in and hands me a plate, with some sort of leafy thing on it.

"Eat this. Cepat sikit jodoh," she orders.

I grunt and roll my eyes. "What is that thing?" I mumble.

"Sirih. Just eat it, and baca doa cepat jodoh. Mama jumpa ustaz semalam. Dia tolong baca," she says irritably.

I take the plate gingerly and look at the sirih, like it's some sort of voodoo thing and it will jump at me and bite me.

"Minum ni," she hands me a cup.

"What in the world is that pulak?" I ask incredulously.

"Minum and baca doa cepat jodoh. Dengar cakap mama!"

I take the cup and peek inside it. It looks like normal, clear water. Phew.

"Ok bye ma," I say, signalling my mom to leave me so I can watch a girl in a pink top and cowboy hat warble her heart out in front of Simon, Paula and Randy. I place the plate on my lap and am still holding the cup.

"Doa `Aainaa, doa! Cepat jodoh!" she says again.

I swear, if I hear the word 'cepat jodoh' one more time...I think to myself.

"Yes ma, I'll do it in a bit!" I look at her, annoyed. Finally after we exchange stares for what seemed like an hour of my life I'll never get back, she leaves.

I slowly pick up the leafy thing and nibble around the edges. Ok, not so bad, I can do this. I take a bigger bite, and hit the middle part. It felt like I had just swollen a chunk (if it had chunks) of Minyak Cap Kapak. I grab at the cup and gulp down what was in it, rush to the kitchen to grab a handful of cereal and shove it in my mouth to drown out the taste. NASTY NASTY NASTY!

Moral of story: Good ol' fashion networking is a better way to meet men rather than chew on nasty-as sirih. And if you already have a boyfriend, bug his ass so he proposes. This method may prove to be far more effective and doesn't require you frantically ransacking your fridge for something to mask the Minyak Cap Kapak taste which will probably take you a lifetime to forget *shudder.

If all else fails, have some gum at hand. Strong gum.

This is a happy post # god knows, who's counting?

In stuffy, cant-breathe sinus-y times like these and when the world is in turmoil, I look to these little things that may seem so insignificant to some but give me that warm, fuzzy feeling :-

- Looking up at the stars on a breezy night.

- A shoulder to cry on when I'm sobbing away at a sad scene in a movie.

- My cat Dots kissing me when I say "Nak kiss!" to him.

- Secret Recipe's Caramel cheesecake. Had it for Datuknenek's anniversary and it was bananas.

- Aldo shoes at 70% off. I sleep, eat and shower in them.

- Watching Scrubs on DVD the whole of Saturday with The Boyfriend and generally being lazy bums.

- The latest addition to my cat family, tiny lil' Skater :) Found him by the side of the road, sitting all alone. He loves biting my fingers and I love him to death.

- Watching two episodes of Friends while eating cereal, before showering and heading off to work.

- Movie night at Maine's, with KFC.

- Grabbing tabloid magazines and pouring over them one by one in a corner of MPH or Times. Best guilty pleasure ever!

sloppy kisses,
`Aainaa

Let go

If you've been following my blog (If you haven't, go back a few months and read "Daddy dearest"), then you'll know that my biological father aka That Man divorced my mom when I was ten because of another woman. You'll also know that it's been years since I've heard from him and he's not exactly your typical, doting father. What I'm about to write is actually long overdue. I've been ignoring it for years, and it's crossed my mind from time to time, but I've always refused to acknowledge it. I've realised that it doesn't matter how successful/good/awesome you are..if you come from a dysfunctional family, it subconsciously affects how you handle your relationships, one way or the other. What I'm trying to say is, if your parents have had a bad relationship at one point, it's almost always bound to affect how you handle YOUR relationships.

See, my ex boyfriends would all agree with me when I say I'm a bit bossy (ok, maybe a lot bossy) as a girlfriend. I'm not the "Don't wear this, Don't say this" type of bossy, but I tend to 'test' my boyfriend every now and then. I overanalyse. I find myself being dramatic, while a part of me screams "What the hell are you doing??", I can get upset over the smallest things, like when a boyfriend doesn't think to buy Vicks for me when I can't breathe. This is the typical thought process:-

I have stuffy nose and can't breathe -> Boyfriend doesn't automatically think of buying Vicks even when he sees I have trouble breathing = me thinking he doesn't care that I am miserable with said stuffy nose, and ultimately doesn't give a rat's ass about my well being in general = eventually he'll turn into monster crap husband a few years down the road, just like That Man and one day decide to pack up and leave.

I have a very distinctive pattern with all my exes. I test them over and over again, to see how much they love me, how much they're willing to go through for me. And after I do all that, I'll repeat the whole vicious cycle. And all because of one reason - I've seen how my mom and That Man were together, her hanging onto his every word, playing the part of the perfect wife. He left her anyway. I know everything happens for a reason, but deep down, I am petrified. And because I'm so determined to not go down that same road, I've developed this subconscious need to analyse, nit-pick the littlest details and shy away from commitment. My relationships are never short of drama - without realising it, I'll do everything I can to fuck it up.

I've come to realise that my quest for the perfect man, everything That Man never was will always get in the way of me being completely happy in a relationship. There's no such thing as The Perfect Man. There's no such thing as a Super Boyfriend who will do NO wrong - boyfriends are humans, and they will mess up from time to time. And isn't that what unconditional love is all about? Loving one another no matter how imperfect they are? I'm trying my best to let go of my demons, and let down this invisible wall that's been up so long, so I can stop protecting myself from getting hurt, but instead know the one I'm with will not hurt me. I have to tell myself that just because I have an awful father, not all men will turn out to be like him. Most importantly, I'll have to let go of my insecurities and learn to trust that my heart is in good hands.

To Yasir, thank you for the Vicks, and I'm sorry I cried in the car on the way to work this morning just because you didn't think of buying it for me before. I am slowly but surely trying to improve myself because I would like to keep you in my life. Please be patient with me, I'll get there one day..

I love you sayang.

Apparently I'm "Wild Sexy".

You Are Wild Sexy

You are sexy because you are always up for a fun fling. You're sexually open and assertive. You know what you want, and you're going to get it. You are a very physically attractive person. You take care of your body. You are attracted to other gorgeous people - and you don't care if that's shallow. You don't have many sexual hang ups or issues. You simply enjoy sex. You are adventurous and open to new experiences. You experiment freely.

What's Sexy About Your Name?

Hmmmm

Your Dress Says You're Classically Stylish

Your Personal Style: Modern and simple. You like clothes to accentuate who you are, not overwhelm you. Your Ideal Wedding: A small ceremony at an old church with a beautiful flower garden Your Philosophy on Marriage: You can have a deep commitment without marriage. It's only a piece of paper. Your Perfect Marriage: Simply loving each other a little more every day

The Wedding Dress Test

Your Little Black Dress Says You're Cosmopolitan

You are elegant, classy, and sophisticated. You know how to turn heads when you enter a room... and then keep people interested with your witty banter. Your style is classic, tailored, and flawless. You don't fall for silly fashion trends. If you were a shoe, you would be: Classic black pumps

The Little Black Dress Test

UGH!

Why does my family treat me like I'm a high school kid?? I'm a 25-year-old working woman forgodsakes!!

Sigh.

Why do girls want the Bad Boys?

I've been pondering over what to write lately, every single time I'd log into my blog but then stare at the screen for about half an hour, before finally calling it quits and closing the window. I suppose I'm uninspired at the moment...I want to write about something, but what? So I've decided to try the trick of just writing the first thought that comes to mind, not exactly focusing on anything in particular.

Last weekend, I was at home because I was down with a terribly annoying sinus problem (something along the lines of not being able to breathe at all, or sounding like I'm snoring when I'm actually wide awake) with Yasir watching the Idiot Box. This old teenage movie was on - you know, one of those fluffy and predictable flicks where there's always a bitchy Miss Popular, a goodlooking jock who rules the school, a geek who's invisible but turns into a likeable Miss It and of course the ever important Prom Night, where Usher magically appears spinning on the decks...yada yada yada. This movie is titled Whatever It Takes (2000) and isn't a particularly memorable teenage flick, but I remember having watched it, god knows when exactly, or why. I have to say Shane West looks rather appealing in this, god bless his soul (this is before he turned into Boy-Of-My-Dreams in A Walk To Remember), albeit a little on the scrawny side, but he sure fixed that didn't he? Anyway, so in a nutshell, Ryan Woodman (aka Shane West) is trying to get to know Miss Thang Ashley (played by Jodi Lyn O'Keefe - who btw is also Miss-I'm-Evil-But-Very-Popular in a few other teenage movies, google it up if you're curious) and enlists the help of jock/jerk Chris Campbell (played by James Franco - not bad, but not my type). So Chris tells Ryan that if he wants to get Ashley's attention, he should treat her badly. This includes insulting her hair, breath, saying her butt looks fat in a particular pair of jeans.

Now, while all this may sound like complete garbage, Chris has a point. Of course, which girl would love hearing that her breath smells like rotten fish, but I remember at one point in my life, guys who kept me guessing drove me crazy. Everyone knows that girls tend to go for guys who treat them badly at SOME point in their life. Nobody wants the good guy, who calls you at a predictable time everyday, buys you chocolates, lays out a handkerchief so you wouldn't have to step on that puddle. At this warped stage in our lives, we want a guy who doesn't call when he says he will, sees you at a party but acts like you don't exist and talks to other girls, swears like a sailor, even flirts with other girls deliberately in front of you. These guys used to drive us CRAZY. We'd dissect their behaviour painstakingly bit by bit, daydream about the moment they'd pick up the phone and ACTUALLY call us, then dissect that phone conversation to see if he gave us any signs that he was remotely interested in us. We dream of taming them into good (well, sort of) boyfriends, settling down and having their babies.

Almost every girl I know has somehow obsessed over a guy who treated them like shit.

All I can say is, boy AM I GLAD that phase of my life is over. O-V-E-R. To hell with mind games, a man to me is someone who knows what he wants and goes for it. He'll show that he's interested, and treat you with respect because he knows that a woman like you deserves nothing but respect. He'll bring you out, and he will love spending time with you, and compliment you on how beautiful you look. He'll plan romantic surprises for you because he knows you're worth all that trouble, and when the time is right, he'll whisper in your ear that he loves you and he feels like the luckiest man in the world to be with you. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is what separates the men from the boys.

Sadly, as we speak, there are millions of girls tossing and turning at night, obsessing over that one jerk who doesn't even make the initiative to call when he says he will, because he's not even thinking about the girl in the first place. I guess I was once one of them - and I'll never understand why I even got myself into those situations! I suppose every girl used to want the 'bad boys', for some strange, unexplainable reason. To these girls, I hope you'll see the light very, very soon. It's just not worth it. Boy, am I glad I can now step back and laugh at how stupid it all was.

I suppose it's not so bad after all, being a 25-year-old with some wisdom, eh?

Firdie

Posts about makeup and fashion bore some people, so I won't stick to only writing about that. I find that delving into the thoughts, emotions and personal life (no matter how hilariously petty) of some people seem to be much more satisfying than going through a couple of beauty or fashion posts. So I'll make it a personal mission of mine to write something worth reading at least once a week, hopefully.

Last Sunday morning, Yasir's phone beeped and we received a message from my friend saying "Firdie passed away last night in a car accident. Al-Fatihah". I was shocked. I thought it was a sick, sick joke. I didn't know Firdie that well, but we've hung out on a couple of occassions (he was a friend of my close friend, Dina - she called him Firdie, while some called him IQ) and I had seen him just two weeks before at a friend's wedding. So I called Shamaine for an explanation and she told me he was on the way home in the wee hours of the morning and was sitting in the passenger seat. He wasn't even driving - his uncle was at the wheel when the left side of their car slammed into a lorry. Both his uncle and aunt escaped with minor injuries...he broke his neck and died on the way to the hospital. It was a very, very tragic death.

That whole Sunday, I felt this weird air around me...I was affected by Firdie's death, haunted by it even. It stayed with me every second of the day, even the day after..till now. I remember telling him that because of him, Yasir and I met each other. It was his 24th birthday, during February this year, when I went to Palacio to celebrate with Dina and his other close girlfriends. That's when I met Yasir. And I jokingly used to tell Firdie if it weren't for him, Yasir and I would never have met. I'd still like to think it's true. I didn't know him really well, but he always had this soft spot in my heart for being our 'cupid'.

Firdie was the sort of guy you didn't have to be close to to know he had a good heart. He always had a cheeky smile on his face, and was friendly and easygoing. He just got along with everybody. His close friends knew him as someone who was a fiercely loyal friend and dependable. You didn't have to worry about him sticking up for you when you needed him to - this was someone who had your back before you even asked for his help.

Because he was such a good friend, it wasn't a surprise that he had A LOT of friends. I suppose people don't know how to deal with their grief - they find comfort in writing on his facebook wall, putting down what they wish Firdie would have known before he passed away. His wall is now filled with comments on how he'll be missed, how he was a gem of a friend. I've realised now that life should not to be taken forgranted and you should always appreciate even the littlest of things. I just wish Firdie and I could have hung out more, and that he knew that I'll forever see him as my Cupid.

Rest in peace, Firdie. Al-Fatihah.

If you heart Ashley Olsen's eye makeup like I do...

...then check out Chanel's eye liner - Le Crayon Yeux in Brun-Cuirve from their Spring Makeup 2009 line, Bohemian Fantasy (inspired by gypsy dresses), which will be out in January 2009. This eyeliner is a bronzy, sexy option from your usual black - as Rachel Zoe would say, "I dieeeeee". I'm wearing it to the office now as we speak, and am yet to try it with bronze, gold eyeshadow, which I will play around with, very soon. Be sure to check out Vendetta from this same line - it's a vampy and rich dark purple nail polish which looks gorgeous with anything. Wear it with your biggest, flashiest rings. Love, love, love!

sloppy kisses,
`Aainaa

Polyvore is more fun than Poly pocket

Behold my Polyvore creations! There's something so satisfying about putting together pieces I know I can either never find here or ever afford. Sad, but this will do in the meantime. Be sure to scroll!

Find me on Polyvore


p/s: They're not terribly creative, but I was in a hurry because The Boyfriend was downstairs waiting in the car. Sorry sayang!

This is a happy post #5

...at least I think it's number 5? I haven't done this in a while, so it's about time. Also because I'm still in the office at 8pm because I'm waiting for The Boyfriend to pick me up, and he's in a late discussion for the billionth time. God, I'm so hungry. Anyway, these make me happy just thinking about them even when I'm stuck in my office and craving fattening food:

- Mamee, because I have been snacking on them ever since I can remember. If someone who works in Mamee (although I doubt you can actually work IN Mamee) reads this post, do send me free packets, you will change my life.

- Watching people walking their dogs. I once saw a man walk his cat, best moment of my life! You wait, I'll train my cat to walk with a leash one day!

- Free stuff at events. C'mon, who does not love these?

- My datuk asking me why I have to go to work every morning when I salam him, as if I have a choice. It's very cute and he makes me laugh.

- Bridal magazines. I once went through five magazines in one sitting.

- Souvenir shops at the end of a tour. I always get excited and feel the strong urge to buy something just for the sake of it, even if it's a dorky looking pen I would never put on my office table.

- Elaborate looking table decorations. Fav - the girly-looking tea parties in the garden, with pink roses as a centerpiece, pink napkins, candles, petals, pretty china, colourful cupcakes and cake, women in flowery dresses, perfectly coiffed hair, pearls.

- This vintage wedding I once read about in a magazine. The bride wore a simple, antique lace dress, her husband in a vintage-looking tux, bridesmaids in vintage flowery dresses and the boys in shirts and Raybans. Very shabby chic - everything was beautifully done, the epitome of simple and sweet. Ugh, wish I brought the mag back with me! :(

- My zebra print desktop wallpaper. At least now I don't have to stare at the boring blue screen which just makes me THAT more excited to be at work.

- When The Boyfriend finally finishes his discussion and tells me he's on the way. Ughhhh

sloppy kissies xxx
`Aainaa

Crap.

It costs almost 9k to go to New York from here.

New York, New York

Start spreading the news, I'm leaving today
I want to be a part of it - new york, new york
These vagabond shoes, are longing to stray
Right through the very heart of it - new york, new york

I wanna wake up in a city, that doesn't sleep
And find Im king of the hill - top of the heap

These little town blues, are melting away
Ill make a brand new start of it - in old new york
If I can make it there, Ill make it anywhere
Its up to you - new york, new york

New york, new york
I want to wake up in a city, that never sleeps
And find I'm a number one top of the list, king of the hill
A number one

These little town blues, are melting away
Im gonna make a brand new start of it - in old new york
And if I can make it there, Im gonna make it anywhere

It's up to you - new york new york