tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3277451036497065222024-03-14T17:37:03.097+08:00The Fruits Of Procrastinationhome to the lil' quirky side of my brain that is philosophical, imaginative and mildly sadisticLynda lauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02470266041600148329noreply@blogger.comBlogger68125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-327745103649706522.post-41172441851815908042017-08-19T02:07:00.001+08:002017-08-19T02:07:24.025+08:00I found a draft post from after my wedding, almost 5 years later<span style="font-size: small;">Clearing my laptop and i found this draft from almost 5 years back. I guess I never got to say those thank yous after all - procrastinator much. But things all happen for a reason. I guess, this popped out at the right time, the very time I need to look back and reminisce what my parents have done for me.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">...</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">...</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">...</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">It’s been more tan a week since the wedding, which was followed
by a whirlwind of activities – Bringing our non-Kuching friends around, eating,
meeting new relatives, eating, spending time with Jen and David, eating and
finally, falling sick. And now that most of it is over, I am finally settling
down to say the Thank Yous that I have been wanting to say since
forever.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">Mummy, when I hugged you after my dinner reception and said to
you, “thank you for everything”, I meant every.single.word. Well, you replied
with something that sounded like “I’ll jot it down in a 555 notebook and claim
from you”, but the truth is, all you have done for me is so priceless I doubt i
can ever pay you back. Ops =P Thank you for the moral support, thank you for
constantly being there, for never giving up on my bridal shoe hunt, even when I
myself have. Thank you for spending many of your weekends tirelessly, preparing
for my wedding, buying red potties and basins and angpows and curtains and
giving me the perfect cheongsam cloth and sweet talking my tailor into agreeing
to make my dress. Thank you for having the guest list planned out and
refreshments sorted out. Thank you for making me my set of adorable gay chickens
and chicks I now keep in our bridal room. Thank you for being there when I felt
all alone.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">Daddy, you put your arms around my shoulder and told me that I
made you proud. I still cannot really figure out how getting married did that,
but I’m so glad you are. Thank you for stepping in to help with the housework,
the floors are sparkly white because of you. And thank you for being a good
sport on the day, you played the bride’s daddy well. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Husband. It’s hasn’t been an easy one for you either, has it?
And being the more organized one of us two, it must have been very frustrating
for you to watch while I slacked and procrastinated and was inefficient doing
things. Well you’re stuck with me now, like it or not. But thank you for putting
up with my wedding stress tantrums and countless “must it be red?” questions. I
now have the rest of my life to irritate you and I am glad. I hope you are too
=D</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Ahhh. My dearest Ji Muis.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">...</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">...</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">...</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">And... it abruptly ended here.</span>Lynda lauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02470266041600148329noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-327745103649706522.post-24414728303786782782012-05-23T21:43:00.001+08:002012-05-23T21:43:06.195+08:00Happy thoughts<p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">Hey you,</font> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">I was thinking about letting you die a slow death but somehow one day, I stumbled upon you on a sleepy, moody work day (please, no judging). Seeing happy posts and happy pictures happened to put a smile on me and perked me up and somehow fuelled me for the day. I then realized the significance of penning down my happy moments rather than wail about the sad. And here is one. Well kind of.</font> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">Anyway, I have no idea why but this morning had been an uber happy one. Maybe the songs on my shuffle list hit all the right, happy spots in me and I couldn’t help but smile, alone, to myself. From the outside it didn’t look quite right I suppose, but from the inside, I was overflowing with happiness and I didn’t know why.</font> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">Well then came the awkward part. I somehow stared emptily and smiled at my colleague of one week. (Yes I found work!) The colleague asked why, but I really didn’t know how to respond except for shaking my head and go on grinning. </font> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">It felt really awkward afterwards. The new colleague who had no idea what was going on in my head must have felt…uh…weird. I felt quite bad, bad enough to write a note on my phone to pass to my colleague that went something like </font> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">“dear colleague, I hope I didn’t freak you out. I was smiling emptily at you a while ago. It’s because I am in an exceptionally good mood this morning and I cannot stop smiling. PS: I really am not a nut case”</font> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">I’m not sure if it helped with the situation, although said colleague politely smiled and returned my phone and asked why the good mood since it wasn’t a Friday. Oops. Remain silent and be thought a fool, speak up and remove all doubt, much?</font> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">On another note, I seem to be lingering around the crossroads in life, trying to get me a job, income, career and realizing how poor I am after the few months of slacking and vowing to enjoy life while I still could since I finished my degree. A lot has happened since – had awesome vacations, played a lot in the kitchen, had my wedding photo shoot after a hassle of worrying about weight, picking out dresses, and religiously applying skin care and masks at night, attempted to work at Starbucks but a real job came around and I had to give in to being rational and etc. The sad thing however is that I AM still lost. But I’ve constantly gone to bed reminding myself of the old saying I used to stick by; ‘when you decide to do something, do it well’.</font> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3"></font> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">…Inserts happy photos</font> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-n9h2BNjhePs/T7zmjnW47II/AAAAAAAAARk/4GyU4UkGDXQ/s1600-h/IMG_1171%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_1171" border="0" alt="IMG_1171" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-uujDHLXTChI/T7zmlYd6ILI/AAAAAAAAARs/WClQ5bS57tw/IMG_1171_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="366" height="486"></a><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-scUw7NCAvQU/T7zmm5ESKtI/AAAAAAAAAR0/NNUg7cHflIY/s1600-h/IMG_1173%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_1173" border="0" alt="IMG_1173" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-ABHEI3_cKp0/T7zmpFvlHTI/AAAAAAAAAR8/gfwKWC-YJYw/IMG_1173_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="366" height="486"></a><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-iIxq0A7IMGE/T7zmqy38FXI/AAAAAAAAASE/Ilw1u669n4Y/s1600-h/IMG_1177%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_1177" border="0" alt="IMG_1177" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-Ss1xL0Whhas/T7zmsZMIWNI/AAAAAAAAASM/HQoBrxxWhEE/IMG_1177_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="366" height="486"></a> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">These are called ‘Checking final trimester results and proceeding to jump around Perth’s street, outside a Japanese restaurant where we had dinner because nobody knew us anyway and we were fucking happy’.</font> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3"></font> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-jnzsre0LaDI/T7zmuRAJ2SI/AAAAAAAAASU/QkIm7b-FSyo/s1600-h/IMG_5504%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_5504" border="0" alt="IMG_5504" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-nkkueepFYD0/T7zmvVh25CI/AAAAAAAAASc/LHlHtmrGVBo/IMG_5504_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="646" height="486"></a><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-qXko0Ul_Eic/T7zmxYpBcXI/AAAAAAAAASk/5ZeNWLuqzzE/s1600-h/IMG_5468%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_5468" border="0" alt="IMG_5468" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-Bfsmpdq-qdI/T7zmyn0cUmI/AAAAAAAAASs/PlNFNCQb3Po/IMG_5468_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="366" height="486"></a><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-ajgUrxkckYk/T7zm0B9LJaI/AAAAAAAAAS0/NNNvvkbWl2E/s1600-h/IMG_5482%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_5482" border="0" alt="IMG_5482" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-rNNktxXSIWQ/T7zm1CWiB-I/AAAAAAAAAS8/866gKPLwATk/IMG_5482_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="366" height="486"></a><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-XOK11wWYVTE/T7zm2pgIslI/AAAAAAAAATE/90YJveldpeM/s1600-h/IMG_5619%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_5619" border="0" alt="IMG_5619" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-x75s7dvcyxM/T7zm4JIL3zI/AAAAAAAAATM/VytdTiPnvx4/IMG_5619_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="646" height="486"></a> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">And this one is called ‘I love Perth because the skies are bluer the trees are smoother the ducks are smarter (very impressed that they poop on the rocks) the waves are bigger (no picture because I was always too busy playing in them) and heck, even the scones that Perth’s Jess makes rise heaps higher’.</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3"></font> </p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-spg7xdVl68I/T7zm6wFjgLI/AAAAAAAAATU/q143KC8Z0r0/s1600-h/IMG_5720%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_5720" border="0" alt="IMG_5720" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-hjSHXjz-LcE/T7zm8jCAfwI/AAAAAAAAATc/pTVzC0eRzDU/IMG_5720_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="646" height="486"></a><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-BUB3ZZfPMiI/T7zm-Z8JuhI/AAAAAAAAATk/Ks7Qu5fPfSY/s1600-h/IMG_5732%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_5732" border="0" alt="IMG_5732" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-o22AxPytbu8/T7znAMlSlUI/AAAAAAAAATs/fh_PnHCEpt4/IMG_5732_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="366" height="486"></a><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-dXmo1PbIlwE/T7znCVVFF1I/AAAAAAAAAT0/Oey_tPsZnhs/s1600-h/IMG_5737%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_5737" border="0" alt="IMG_5737" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-x7oIZVBkKX0/T7znD7dgv2I/AAAAAAAAAT8/aftojCg7hSw/IMG_5737_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="646" height="486"></a><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-GcrpJJ58EZg/T7znFgUDGII/AAAAAAAAAUE/UDXBAbecLJk/s1600-h/IMG_5741%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_5741" border="0" alt="IMG_5741" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-Pazgj4yqk14/T7znHNVByZI/AAAAAAAAAUM/zz8AFdQh1z4/IMG_5741_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="646" height="486"></a></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">This is called ‘Lynda wants to work as a park ranger in Aus’.</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3"></font> </p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-TvBWA64mKbk/T7znI850JFI/AAAAAAAAAUU/NQwIh-aSZuY/s1600-h/IMG_5398%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_5398" border="0" alt="IMG_5398" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-KKDrbXezYqc/T7znJ9BhfYI/AAAAAAAAAUc/3XnziWH_Rgg/IMG_5398_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="246" height="186"></a><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-vA1HGXNwvi0/T7znLm3YwpI/AAAAAAAAAUk/K8m9Qp9E76s/s1600-h/IMG_5400%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_5400" border="0" alt="IMG_5400" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-ryyPo95_G3o/T7znMggAKmI/AAAAAAAAAUs/AyUOAQbPUEE/IMG_5400_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="246" height="186"></a><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-i7nwAtErnKo/T7znOHFsFLI/AAAAAAAAAU0/8qJQ7MNyAAI/s1600-h/IMG_5600%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_5600" border="0" alt="IMG_5600" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-3naBnyiWNY8/T7znPG5rKYI/AAAAAAAAAU8/G6lIZ2nEeBs/IMG_5600_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="246" height="186"></a><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-Lv-GTE9WoXM/T7znROjjBiI/AAAAAAAAAVE/X-qljfiQqhw/s1600-h/IMG_5601%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_5601" border="0" alt="IMG_5601" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-LBmeqy2b-Kg/T7znSOrIm6I/AAAAAAAAAVM/-vKXxhlcTLE/IMG_5601_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="246" height="186"></a><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-nJgLbULiBB4/T7znT0C8rwI/AAAAAAAAAVU/qP49ZUUNcR0/s1600-h/IMG_5606%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_5606" border="0" alt="IMG_5606" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-dQdWY34ILac/T7znU51xxII/AAAAAAAAAVc/Ej8I8NmrF8U/IMG_5606_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="186" height="246"></a><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-qf41NBetvcs/T7znWSDZl6I/AAAAAAAAAVk/5UdQYuQz6wA/s1600-h/IMG_5608%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_5608" border="0" alt="IMG_5608" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-7km5v54nG-4/T7znXbyTdFI/AAAAAAAAAVs/i__dwhtpu-Q/IMG_5608_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="186" height="246"></a><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-Nz5KusVEZDQ/T7znZz-mtcI/AAAAAAAAAV0/oFOIbyVcPNQ/s1600-h/IMG_5760%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_5760" border="0" alt="IMG_5760" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-De2shhReu_Q/T7znbIb876I/AAAAAAAAAV8/XMH6FI0_vkE/IMG_5760_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="246" height="186"></a><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-wED0t126hcM/T7znc-V29oI/AAAAAAAAAWE/9BEa7X-V8-0/s1600-h/IMG_5761%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_5761" border="0" alt="IMG_5761" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-UTztMi2Euqk/T7znd5hlPrI/AAAAAAAAAWM/0UPkyG2SXtE/IMG_5761_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="246" height="186"></a><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-uPptb8lHEos/T7znfnm38GI/AAAAAAAAAWY/aB1lS_6ZTxU/s1600-h/IMG_5762%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_5762" border="0" alt="IMG_5762" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-619bReYgbcg/T7zng6dt28I/AAAAAAAAAWg/eEh8SbbYwsI/IMG_5762_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="246" height="186"></a><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-KySykQHzEbU/T7zni4TQOZI/AAAAAAAAAWo/naNzz0R_gs8/s1600-h/IMG_5763%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_5763" border="0" alt="IMG_5763" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-ogAiz0ARi5w/T7znj1480vI/AAAAAAAAAWw/65miGPO4Y8k/IMG_5763_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="246" height="186"></a><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-At1_14Jtkl0/T7znlp34ETI/AAAAAAAAAW4/Mrj3-BiXItw/s1600-h/IMG_0725%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_0725" border="0" alt="IMG_0725" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-3dRbjMuUAxY/T7znmneJMoI/AAAAAAAAAW8/rKLhELnbuGQ/IMG_0725_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="246" height="186"></a><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-X514yKV4PTM/T7zno7hotRI/AAAAAAAAAXI/YSsXitREUZY/s1600-h/IMG_0983%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_0983" border="0" alt="IMG_0983" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-eLnaUxeGoaQ/T7znp4UJDdI/AAAAAAAAAXQ/dUEKMiFWUEM/IMG_0983_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="246" height="186"></a><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-K7ANmFZfVj8/T7znsfQSYAI/AAAAAAAAAXY/VMA-KK-MuKw/s1600-h/IMG_1075%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_1075" border="0" alt="IMG_1075" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-AKKj6o27RNc/T7zntRw4E2I/AAAAAAAAAXc/yfnSoAyXGpI/IMG_1075_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="246" height="186"></a><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-CkRX-B7gNR8/T7znvt9YAGI/AAAAAAAAAXo/GE1NwQX5MOA/s1600-h/IMG_1150%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_1150" border="0" alt="IMG_1150" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-dxWMeCYi93Y/T7znwkRrFII/AAAAAAAAAXw/M-0GsycvfOk/IMG_1150_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="246" height="186"></a></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">And THIS is called ‘The reason I cannot fit into wedding dresses’.</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">=)</font></p> Lynda lauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02470266041600148329noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-327745103649706522.post-54796531788134725222012-01-28T19:07:00.001+08:002012-01-28T19:07:43.697+08:00How did it come to this<p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">Here’s a little something I found, written back when I was in Sematan doing my National Service. It makes me laugh at my lack of abilities to compose poetry that sound like I exceed 12 years of age. Not implying that things are any different now. </font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">But geeee, that innocence, priceless.</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3"></font> </p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">When I looked up at the sky last night,</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">I saw stars that twinkled bright.</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">I wished you were here by me to teach,</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">The shapes and names of each.</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3"></font> </p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">You pointed to me, clusters of the Dipper.</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">The Belt of Orion, the three stars together.</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">Each time spotted, I’d excitedly say,</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">Look, the stars are there!</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3"></font> </p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">Now at camp I slowly look back.</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">To think of it, it’s kind of sad. </font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">I’m looking up at stars alone,</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">Further and further goes our bond.</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3"></font> </p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">Now with time I slowly look,</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">I know at times I have not been good.</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">I hope to make it up someday,</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">Rediscover love we used to share.</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3"></font> </p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">Through thick and thin I’ll be by your side,</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">Count on us, we won’t run and hide.</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">Open up and rest in our comfort,</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">So none of us will hurt. </font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3"></font></p> Lynda lauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02470266041600148329noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-327745103649706522.post-63385851092144888062012-01-22T03:55:00.001+08:002012-01-22T03:55:21.655+08:00A gentle reminderMy new year resolution is to keep the promises i make to myselfLynda lauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02470266041600148329noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-327745103649706522.post-33637979721409112792012-01-03T04:01:00.001+08:002012-01-03T04:12:54.719+08:00So this is 2012<p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">I decided to stalk a friend’s blog today. Not a frequent writer, but the things he says are things I totally relate to.</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">Among them was living life to the fullest, as if there would be no tomorrow. Well not to the extent of there not being a tomorrow, but the the extent of knowing that something would soon be ending. </font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3"><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-FB-cxozCqtE/TwIMxRUc_yI/AAAAAAAAAPs/_L5hTdG3fcI/s1600-h/IMG_4635%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_4635" border="0" alt="IMG_4635" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-4gIS7sMB5X0/TwIMzFQuR9I/AAAAAAAAAP0/t0N-Qyn_ym8/IMG_4635_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="646" height="486"></a></font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">Ever since my 6-months of slave-driver internship period in Kuching, working like an actual working person yet not really there, because you are the intern that is free for use and knows some yet doesn’t quite know enough, waking up at 7am and passing out by 12.30am, or at least try to pass out, I’ve realised that I have been taking a lot of things for granted. For instance, you would not be able to skip work as much as you skip class. You would not be able to go for a RM9 movie on a Wednesday afternoon. You would not be able to go off to karaoke on a weekday where all the promotions are. You would have to go squeeze with the crowd in shopping malls on weekends because you can’t go there during working hours. You no longer get to sleep at 6am and wake up at 3pm. You don’t get to evaluate people, ie: the lecturers. Your superior evaluates you, and if you get an asshole for one, well best of luck!</font></p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/--dg57IzmRDc/TwIM2XkH3cI/AAAAAAAAAP8/UYUDuIbXe1s/s1600-h/IMG_4683%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><font color="#9b00d3"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_4683" border="0" alt="IMG_4683" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-0MCSLfMenHk/TwIM4Zu9TwI/AAAAAAAAAQE/RkE3rqjdkPk/IMG_4683_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="646" height="486"></font></a></p> <p><font size="3"><font color="#9b00d3">I came back to uni for my (hopefully) final sem determined to live the life I have been missing out on because I was then too occupied with my academic performance, because I felt bad about troubling my friends who’d have to fetch me, because I was an introvert and because the BF was then, very domineering and insecure and fought with me everytime i tried to join my friends for outings <strike>because I was hot and a dream of a girlfriend and he was afraid some other men was going to come sweep me off my feet.</strike></font></font></p> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-MzbBAfmWgEs/TwIM8bei_DI/AAAAAAAAAQM/aNkPl0duTMo/s1600-h/IMG_4712%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><font color="#9b00d3"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_4712" border="0" alt="IMG_4712" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-TtZkBNDKq7c/TwIM-y1XRUI/AAAAAAAAAQU/k17fD2l8nKM/IMG_4712_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="646" height="486"></font></a></p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-CSi8jZjT6Fc/TwINBuS6hJI/AAAAAAAAAQc/zeOZz5U8bXM/s1600-h/IMG_4716%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><font color="#9b00d3"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_4716" border="0" alt="IMG_4716" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-s4SIdEHK09k/TwINDbW7zgI/AAAAAAAAAQk/NUEv1PQJ6CQ/IMG_4716_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="646" height="486"></font></a></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">Now with three weeks left to go (and heaps of undone assignments) before the study break and Chinese New Year and final exam comes, I feel so much like I am running out of time. To do my assignments, to study for finals and to continue living my life before I walk into a very vague future career. But I certainly am glad that I have the chance to create beautiful memories with people who matter while I still can.</font></p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-7fa7ygZkPM0/TwINEw0P_JI/AAAAAAAAAQs/HJtLv4sNTEc/s1600-h/IMG_4737%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><font color="#9b00d3"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_4737" border="0" alt="IMG_4737" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-Wg4TJhoUabk/TwINGKs4j-I/AAAAAAAAAQ0/Q30QWDYsyqY/IMG_4737_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="646" height="486"></font></a></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">I remember sitting in the debating society of uni during my first year, and a friend, the same guy who’s writing about living like there’d be no tomorrow, asking me if I was sure I really wanted to do Accounting. 3.5 years later, my answer remains the same. It is not something I am crazy about, but rather, it is something I feel is right. Something that provides me with a stepping stone, a head start, an open door. </font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">I stay to my saying, that when I decide to do something, I should do it well. I suppose that’s the same that goes to being an auditor. It is the best route, the right route, although I have no intentions of being slave to an audit firm, losing both hair and sleep. When the time comes, I will break free from all that is right, and move away from the norms and finally be whatever I was supposed to be when I thought audit isn’t for me.</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">Chef? Writer? Lol. We’ll see.</font></p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-X0fZnoJ68IM/TwINHu5YcuI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/Z6PKMCW8L0I/s1600-h/IMG_4778%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><font color="#9b00d3"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_4778" border="0" alt="IMG_4778" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-xQA-uvJ994w/TwINI6yJXrI/AAAAAAAAARE/zbZohpsSGt4/IMG_4778_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="366" height="486"></font></a></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. May we all continue to grow, learn, cherish and love. =)</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3"></font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3"></font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3"></font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3"></font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3"></font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3"></font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3"></font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3"></font></p> Lynda lauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02470266041600148329noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-327745103649706522.post-28224036640444239722011-12-02T01:34:00.001+08:002011-12-02T01:36:33.294+08:00Emonomo<p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">That awkward moment when you want to start writing but do not know how to start.</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">…</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">AHAH this girl has been having her soul sucked out of her by 9gag lately.</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">But wait, is that even supposed to be awkward? </font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">Awkward or not I think I should just jot down random things from here and there. My blog misses me. It told me in my dreams, I know. </font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">…</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">This happened last weekend, the weekend where I was supposed to be studying for my midterm exams which are happening THIS week. The old me would have never gotten her arse off the chair and eyes off her books. But the current me told the old me to go on and do it, in the name of the final sem. And here’s a pic I stole from FB.</font></p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-4QZ5_Ooc7Is/Tte6hF4LIjI/AAAAAAAAAPE/B3VsIPdKWYU/s1600-h/381489_10150590109568289_666553288_11830150_413068312_n%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><font color="#9b00d3"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="381489_10150590109568289_666553288_11830150_413068312_n" border="0" alt="381489_10150590109568289_666553288_11830150_413068312_n" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-4PNsXf8_b5o/Tte6jDKW-PI/AAAAAAAAAPM/OZ9s3mPKXIY/381489_10150590109568289_666553288_11830150_413068312_n_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="366" height="486"></font></a></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">I ran 10km of the KL streets with these guys in 1 hour 17 minutes. Many finished way earlier than me, but heck, I never thought I could run this far. See that tiny girl on the left? That’s Suiee. She and Mister Lee (who’s back in his hometown eating good food and surrounded by family love) were the ones who encouraged me to run. As I ran around uni, Mister Lee would be yelling “DON’T STOP! GO GO GO! BIGGER STEPS!” And thinking back, how time flies. That was almost one year ago.</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">After the run we all headed home, showered and went for lunch at Umai-Ya Puchong. It was a buffet brunch. We fed ourselves with 30km worth of calories after the 10km run. And I finally settled my cravings for oysters. Not exceptional, but better than nothing. *gratitude!*</font></p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-xdZ0Yg2LxQ0/Tte6n9HiVOI/AAAAAAAAAPU/HUsRKSLuDzY/s1600-h/IMG_4497%25255B7%25255D.jpg"><font color="#9b00d3"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_4497" border="0" alt="IMG_4497" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-zaEH4ju3b14/Tte6qDHqg8I/AAAAAAAAAPc/4MT2LMHfwDc/IMG_4497_thumb%25255B4%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="646" height="486"></font></a></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">It’s a funny thing, the oyster cravings and I. I do not particularly like them. But somehow I missed that rawness, the taste of lemon as you take your first slurp, and then the texture of the oyster in the mouth. Its a big step, from being a Japanese cuisine hating person, to someone who craves oysters. But owh, I still stay away from Unagi.</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">…</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">The past weeks have been those filled with daydreaming of what I will become, whether I will end up getting married, whether I’d like to be an auditor, and if not, what I could do for a living. I figured what I would really want is to take a break and somehow, perhaps, maybe, find myself. So I proceed to thinking how to afford travelling and where I could wander off to. Lynda Lau, Y U No Rich? =\</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3"><font size="3">I have recently reached expert level when it comes to daydreaming about things to eat/cook/bake during lectures.</font><font size="3">And I have also become a severe case of nocturnal creature. And and and. I brought an oven back with me to Cyberjaya. Suiee and I have been baking. In fact, I just grilled myself a tomato cheese sandwich for dinner and forced ST to eat one too. </font></font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">And now that I am done procrastinating, I ought to continue studying for my 8pm paper instead of dig my own grave here.</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3"></font> </p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">With love,</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">Pre Wedding Depression no more,</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">Lynda =)</font></p> <p><font color="#ffffff" size="3"></font></p> Lynda lauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02470266041600148329noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-327745103649706522.post-43784723197817549632011-11-26T17:36:00.001+08:002011-11-26T17:36:21.147+08:00This is emo<p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">What do you do when the only thing that tells you to go on is your heart, when almost everybody else is telling you otherwise, at times, including your brain? I believe things happen repeatedly to a person for a reason – herself. But how do I figure out why I am constantly stuck in the in-betweens.</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">How young is young, how old is old. How successful is successful? How much is enough? How much before a person is good, reliable, right? How far can it stretch before it all should go down the drain? How obvious must it be for it to be true, for you to start being scared? How on earth do you choose?</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">Why so many what-ifs? Why so many meddling hands? Why is there no other choice? Why did they choose so easily? Why choose to be so inflexible and push so hard to get something that is obviously selfish and wrong from the start? Why all the pressure on me you are the ones making all the choices?</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">And it doesn’t help, that you have the worst lecturer you have ever met on the trimester where you decide to really<em> live</em> your uni life, ie: play, and her midterms come two days after the 10km run you are afraid you wouldn’t be able to finish.</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3"></font><font color="#9b00d3" size="3"></font></p> Lynda lauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02470266041600148329noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-327745103649706522.post-25140706267208515722011-09-16T16:51:00.001+08:002011-09-16T16:51:04.660+08:00Testing testingStressed out! <br />
<br />
Can a decent local person please rent my place before i turn into a cow from stress binging?<br />
<br />
With love,<br />
Curled up on bean bag munching on nuts on rainy day typing through crappy blogger app,<br />
Lynda.<div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitE-nh9PkpWLnrvJUUOc7Tmi7NSke0AJbMwi8hsnElOeK4idTg9yvnnhyR8DvSGQhq73imBpk1RPy3HjS5QLqjqVIBj6dApXrgpiw_GlwpsRvAweFET4EZotKtlhv6BVpPooR85eZ0Yn87/s640/blogger-image--1044067594.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitE-nh9PkpWLnrvJUUOc7Tmi7NSke0AJbMwi8hsnElOeK4idTg9yvnnhyR8DvSGQhq73imBpk1RPy3HjS5QLqjqVIBj6dApXrgpiw_GlwpsRvAweFET4EZotKtlhv6BVpPooR85eZ0Yn87/s640/blogger-image--1044067594.jpg" /></a></div>Lynda lauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02470266041600148329noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-327745103649706522.post-31535105762328887132011-09-10T05:30:00.001+08:002011-09-10T05:36:26.613+08:00Rewind<p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">When your report is never-ending and your evaluation is a tad disappointing. When you realise you have been cooped up at home for two weeks without really achieving anything. When Friday and Monday make no difference anymore. When your dog is sick and you ache to see her ache. When you feel so empty yet forget to eat. When your brain is confused and your heart is stubborn.</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">Nah, you don’t sit around and drown in emo-ness for too long. Open up folders of old photos, or if you haven’t any, go stalk people with old photos on Facebook, and if you’re lucky you might just find something to make you smile.</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">I found these; The day Zh’s family visited KL, when my hair was still black and when my fringe was still short. Lol</font></p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-avmN3wcfris/TmqEuKmAxpI/AAAAAAAAAL8/K8J1-1JLWjc/s1600-h/IMG_1876%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_1876" border="0" alt="IMG_1876" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-zODFo3_5pPU/TmqEvFsTatI/AAAAAAAAAMA/Balh5ote01Y/IMG_1876_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="646" height="486"></a></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">This was in Mid Valley. The day both of us were supposed to tag along for Klang Bak Kut Teh, then go home to study for finals afterwards. But we ended up following the family shopping because we felt bad that they had to drive us all the way back to Cyberjaya.</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3"><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-MfA8-5kAgAI/TmqEwj8lBrI/AAAAAAAAAME/GIGtCvLT4oE/s1600-h/IMG_1883%25255B6%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_1883" border="0" alt="IMG_1883" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-6zZI4lzQJbo/TmqEySz6GiI/AAAAAAAAAMI/uZ0wyQOk8rE/IMG_1883_thumb%25255B3%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="366" height="486"></a></font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">And here’s another photo with Mister Lee. Genuine smiles like that come around friends like these.Good smiles come around when you’re actually happy inside.</font></p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-FCovLr3H260/TmqEzXq8diI/AAAAAAAAAMM/GJIVn3hO1BE/s1600-h/IMG_1887%25255B12%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_1887" border="0" alt="IMG_1887" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-qCnyAvdtV4U/TmqE0ALcclI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/8OiFZ-qCIPQ/IMG_1887_thumb%25255B6%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="366" height="486"></a></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">We got hungry, so we ended up here. I was excited. </font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">Pasta Zanmai my love, DID YOU HEAR MY </font><a href="http://queenprocrastinator.blogspot.com/2010/11/pasta-zanmai-love-declaration-plea.html"><font color="#ff0000" size="3">PLEA</font></a><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">? I’m graduating soon, come to Kuching with me, please? PLEASE????</font></p> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-M8IGviaXnbU/TmqE0ym0S7I/AAAAAAAAAMU/RN0FIv5ANMc/s1600-h/IMG_1889%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><font color="#9b00d3" size="3"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_1889" border="0" alt="IMG_1889" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-CkMv2cjO1N0/TmqE1nkjQbI/AAAAAAAAAMY/TheyEFYtJlY/IMG_1889_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="366" height="486"></font></a></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">The tamciak smile.</font></p> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-ulEk_e7DUDo/TmqE26isf9I/AAAAAAAAAMc/_JH9dXOfupM/s1600-h/IMG_1899%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><font color="#9b00d3" size="3"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_1899" border="0" alt="IMG_1899" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-hUn0bYKsuzM/TmqE369-ALI/AAAAAAAAAMg/cM-OrUtV7q0/IMG_1899_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="366" height="486"></font></a></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3"></font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3"></font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3"></font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3"></font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">And this is Mister Lee’s dad. He is the coolest grandpa I have ever seen.</font></p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-mWPoIvcuPdI/TmqE50YN7WI/AAAAAAAAAMk/Fw-mo67u9pQ/s1600-h/IMG_1918%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><font color="#9b00d3" size="3"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_1918" border="0" alt="IMG_1918" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-aZp5_lTdtI0/TmqE7KxPNNI/AAAAAAAAAMo/Now5ZJv5A0c/IMG_1918_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="646" height="486"></font></a></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">The food came. I definitely did not order this. Me no likey Unagi. I think this was Zh’s.</font></p> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-W-S8E4TI4g0/TmqE8GXrA8I/AAAAAAAAAMs/yC9SgjZheOY/s1600-h/IMG_1927%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><font color="#9b00d3" size="3"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_1927" border="0" alt="IMG_1927" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-oilVY6qucgo/TmqE9IOHCPI/AAAAAAAAAMw/cTYz1A0zGlU/IMG_1927_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="366" height="486"></font></a></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">Here’s another bowl of awesomeness held by an awesome.</font></p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-apVw2x2I_Y8/TmqE-wiuQYI/AAAAAAAAAM0/z3vQeFktMyE/s1600-h/IMG_1932%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><font color="#9b00d3" size="3"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_1932" border="0" alt="IMG_1932" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-Lbyu128MIP0/TmqFAFkyLfI/AAAAAAAAAM4/cDMYEFEv5mo/IMG_1932_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="646" height="486"></font></a></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">And this, ladies and gents, is my favourite ! I feel happy looking at this thing thinking about how happy I was.</font></p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/--dutzMM-exA/TmqFAzYJS3I/AAAAAAAAAM8/HuQKNm-jifM/s1600-h/IMG_1938%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><font color="#9b00d3" size="3"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_1938" border="0" alt="IMG_1938" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-kfCOXuWIoKs/TmqFBvCGibI/AAAAAAAAANA/ynT5EDVtbTM/IMG_1938_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="366" height="486"></font></a></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">Told you I was happy!</font></p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-p4a10ZvMARY/TmqFC_BDbzI/AAAAAAAAANE/XbARJQxVs9E/s1600-h/IMG_1946%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><font color="#9b00d3" size="3"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_1946" border="0" alt="IMG_1946" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-xjUH1BToLu0/TmqFD9K__tI/AAAAAAAAANI/I_tDeQN-6Kc/IMG_1946_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="366" height="486"></font></a></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3"></font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">Maybe Suiee was considering licking it so I wouldn’t steal any from her. </font></p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-uXNMcWW3h3E/TmqFFP3AYoI/AAAAAAAAANM/_kW97v1IiTY/s1600-h/IMG_1954%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><font color="#9b00d3" size="3"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_1954" border="0" alt="IMG_1954" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-YvMCUxbkNWo/TmqFFyJCe7I/AAAAAAAAANQ/B0BMNU7P45Q/IMG_1954_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="366" height="486"></font></a></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">We left Mid Valley and headed to Putrajaya. BTW this is the youngest daddy I’ve ever known and the coolest grandma I’ve ever seen.</font></p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-szxWsguEnek/TmqFHVwQg_I/AAAAAAAAANU/CThTOxgOoUI/s1600-h/IMG_1960%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><font color="#9b00d3" size="3"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_1960" border="0" alt="IMG_1960" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-Mzmymw75Tmk/TmqFIK_PUlI/AAAAAAAAANY/Bvy_65IO-cU/IMG_1960_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="646" height="486"></font></a></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">One the right in white is the youngest mommy. She’s super sweet I tell you. And I feel very little in comparison. I guess it’s the mommy vibe, seeing her caring for her kid. I don’t even know how to carry a baby.</font></p> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-mNY_WCtEiiE/TmqFJSTasyI/AAAAAAAAANc/fEIp_ys-wmA/s1600-h/IMG_1961%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><font color="#9b00d3" size="3"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_1961" border="0" alt="IMG_1961" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-UE9sNbXrWp8/TmqFKLVIaWI/AAAAAAAAANg/cPPtp137Iw8/IMG_1961_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="366" height="486"></font></a></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">This is the most lovable kid I have ever met. He smiles ALL.DAY.LONG. Throughout the day the only time I remember him crying was when he wanted milk. He could be so tired, so sleepy, but the minute you call his name, he’ll smile, just to layan you. I don’t normally like kids. I tell people all the time, I would rather deal with dogs. But this kid, I LIKE !</font></p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-ETaXxLujiqc/TmqFLcvlIqI/AAAAAAAAANk/u9kG9d6bjfA/s1600-h/IMG_1982%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><font color="#9b00d3" size="3"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_1982" border="0" alt="IMG_1982" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-GhElzNek3qA/TmqFMGE5VqI/AAAAAAAAANo/UuGKnXf8NEI/IMG_1982_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="366" height="486"></font></a></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">See, it’s mutual. He likes me too! =D</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">…</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">…</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">Our last stop was the bridge. We stopped and took silly photos like these:</font></p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-o5XJf80Q4ZA/TmqFNyZvjHI/AAAAAAAAANs/ZG2pU6CwdtQ/s1600-h/IMG_1997%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><font color="#9b00d3" size="3"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_1997" border="0" alt="IMG_1997" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-lgOl-bnncn0/TmqFPIzAJJI/AAAAAAAAANw/-Sj7vcLSStA/IMG_1997_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="646" height="486"></font></a></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">Owh this one isn’t stupid. This is Mister Lee’s baby sister, super manja, in a good way.</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3"></font> </p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">Now, for the photos…</font></p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-efROQeTE89A/TmqFP8Hx_0I/AAAAAAAAAN0/nLJktBbnO8Y/s1600-h/IMG_1999%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><font color="#9b00d3" size="3"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_1999" border="0" alt="IMG_1999" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-B07sMxGwWRc/TmqFQnn8iKI/AAAAAAAAAN4/RxPnF7zyylo/IMG_1999_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="186" height="246"></font></a><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-dMsPT4jplFk/TmqFRpv3LBI/AAAAAAAAAN8/ZY7uQzOZ0ZM/s1600-h/IMG_2003%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><font color="#9b00d3" size="3"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_2003" border="0" alt="IMG_2003" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-k9SQDPlDho8/TmqFSMm4EfI/AAAAAAAAAOA/F3NhPjzJ0M8/IMG_2003_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="186" height="246"></font></a><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-PsBl-u77WVw/TmqFS1MZWRI/AAAAAAAAAOE/gd6AzdQR5FI/s1600-h/IMG_2004%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><font color="#9b00d3" size="3"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_2004" border="0" alt="IMG_2004" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-6etUSpWTbj8/TmqFTkQjZLI/AAAAAAAAAOI/_ySonEQ2cEc/IMG_2004_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="186" height="246"></font></a><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-ch4eExkRCQg/TmqFUbP7y2I/AAAAAAAAAOM/yUr5_0DvYuI/s1600-h/IMG_2005%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><font color="#9b00d3" size="3"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_2005" border="0" alt="IMG_2005" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-x4np-Nt-KC8/TmqFUyb_N0I/AAAAAAAAAOQ/CsU6cupNSWI/IMG_2005_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="186" height="246"></font></a><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-nkYjx7g2dZI/TmqFV8hhOKI/AAAAAAAAAOU/mFcMQOtfbMM/s1600-h/IMG_2006%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><font color="#9b00d3" size="3"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_2006" border="0" alt="IMG_2006" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-beR5xyoj_EA/TmqFWWSJNhI/AAAAAAAAAOY/2FIuB29NuKA/IMG_2006_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="186" height="246"></font></a><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-SCLTOsmzLPM/TmqFXc7LYSI/AAAAAAAAAOc/P3VPJSXyV5k/s1600-h/IMG_2009%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><font color="#9b00d3" size="3"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_2009" border="0" alt="IMG_2009" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-TDMV_E7BF-8/TmqFX_tpS5I/AAAAAAAAAOg/RkXChd9GVuw/IMG_2009_thumb%25255B1%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="186" height="246"></font></a></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">It was a long day. I think we got back past 1am. Just shopping, eating and sight-seeing. It definitely is a memory I would cherish, especially at times like these. Tamciak-ness can lead to good things after all. It was supposed to be a morning of Bak Kut Teh, but it ended up as a whole day’s fun.</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">Goodnight =)</font></p> Lynda lauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02470266041600148329noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-327745103649706522.post-73033561115189844622011-09-07T15:04:00.001+08:002011-09-07T15:14:50.234+08:00“Friend” and Buttercream Frosting<p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">Hello blog, I am back and inspired. </font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">The six months internship has ended. And it seemed like yesterday was the last Friday of my internship engagement, and on that day, I told myself, I am going to do my reports tonight (but ended up being dragged out and sat very unhappily throughout the night because I could not go home). And here I am today, almost two weeks since last finished work, with my report still incomplete.</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">It was sad, because I was obligated to fill my head with my report, and nothing else but my report. I shut out my friends, my love for playing in the kitchen and daydreaming crazy random thoughts. But self-control can only go that far. After all, there is still the internet, the fake life it provides and the endless ways of procrastination that come with it. </font></p> <p><font size="3"><font color="#9b00d3">Anyway, today, a crazy random thought came to me – uses of this noun, “FRIEND”. </font><font color="#9b00d3">What exactly does it mean, how far does it go? It is pretty much undefined. I googled for a definition and it more or less sounds like this to me: A person whom one knows, likes, and trusts, and acquaintance or a person whom one is allied in a struggle or cause.</font></font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">Uhm…. That’s like… anybody?</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">So well, I suppose this is why this word has many, many, many uses. And below, are a among the few that are not very right.</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3"><font size="3"><strong>Scenario 1</strong>: Random girl, big fan of Keeping up with the Kardashians walks up to Kim Kardashian and says “OWH HIEEEE, I love you and your show! And I’ve read everything there is to read about you so I feel like I really know you and that we have such a great connection. Besides, I’ve been to every single one of your public appearances and I think you’re awesome. Plus, I have a friend, whose friend, whose friend’s friend is your friend too. That makes us friends too right? Owh by the way I haven’t gotten that invite to your wedding” *big hopeful smile*</font></font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">Well, sure, Kim would probably call security, but I think this might just be feasible in the real world. It would help if the girl was really hot too. FRIEND is used to make connections. </font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3"><font size="3"><strong>Scenario 2</strong>: Batman and Joker came from the same school. One day there was a test. Batman, being the brainy nerd did not have a problem at all. Joker however, forgot and was out picking up girls the night before having the time of his life. Hence he said to Batman “Pass me your answer sheet”. Batman refused and Joker said with a tinge of disappointment in his tone, “But I thought we were friends…”</font></font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">I suppose Joker failed because Batman refused anyway so now they’re enemies. But my point here, is that FRIEND is constantly used to manipulate through creating feelings of guilt.</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3"><font size="3"><strong>Scenario 3:</strong> Girlfriend plays with boyfriend’s laptop and suddenly sees that boyfriend has been joining social networks, adding random hot girls and suggesting they make a beach trips and build sandcastles together. Girlfriend flips, and loses her temper at boyfriend. Boyfriend replies “I was just socializing and making friends. Nothing will happen, we’re friends”.</font></font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">Well even a monkey would know what boyfriend was thinking in his head. But somehow, categorising something/someone as FRIEND makes boyfriend think whatever he did is justified. Plus, FRIEND may potentially save boyfriend’s ass. FRIEND ONLY MAH.</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3"><font size="3"><strong>Scenario 4:</strong> <font color="#9b00d3">Girl and boy started out as friends. But eventually girl starts having funny feelings for boy. Girl constantly thinks of boy, girl constantly wants to talk to boy, girl is stalking boy. Girl feels like she should not be in this situation. Maybe she should be focussing on her studies, career, etc., maybe she was not emotionally ready, or maybe boy was of a different race and religion. So girl shrugs the thought off, and continues being friends with boy, but still thinking about boy and stalking boy. But girl tells herself, “No sweat, just good friends”.</font></font></font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">So here, people use FRIEND to live in denial, to continue being involved with someone they are romantically interested in, but in a FRIEND kind of way to be able to tell themselves (and everyone around them) that nothing is going on.</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">But to be fair, I think that being friends and being a little more than friends really is a thin line. And yes, I do notice that #3 and #4 is kind of the same, yet a little bit different. Owh well. *shrugs*</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">…</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">…</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">Anyway this is what friends do do together. Look up a random recipe and make cupcakes! Kai Liang and I finally made these after months of intending to.</font></p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-y_11zDhVWsY/TmcXgVjXS6I/AAAAAAAAAL0/NvdbKBPsSm8/s1600-h/IMG_3551%25255B5%25255D.jpg"><font color="#9b00d3" size="3"><img style="background-image: none; border-right-width: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_3551" border="0" alt="IMG_3551" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-5vJzV-wgJWQ/TmcXhQmqMAI/AAAAAAAAAL4/vi3ZVx8ZAuM/IMG_3551_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="646" height="486"></font></a></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">These were supposed to be chocolate vanilla. The chocolate cake was good, but the vanilla buttercream simply would not hold. So we added lime and cream of tartar. It was slightly better, but still runny. In the end I dunked in peanut butter. Well I wouldn’t say it was awesome but at least it was spreadable. </font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">Lessons learnt: 1. Never add in half a cup of milk to butter to make buttercream. It.WILL.be.watery. 2. Invest in cute paper cups. 3. Cupcakes are meant to be small and delicate, not gigantic muffin sized cakes with runny buttercream. Buy smaller cups. 4. ALWAYS cut down the sugar in angmoh recipes. ALWAYS.</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3"></font> </p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3">**Note to self at abrupt ending of post: FINISH THAT REPORT THEN GO GET A LIFE ALREADY. YOU HAVE TO HAND IT IN ANYWAY SO IT MAY AS WELL BE SOONER THAN LATER.</font></p> <p><font color="#9b00d3" size="3"></font></p> Lynda lauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02470266041600148329noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-327745103649706522.post-31500872473621850622011-08-02T00:31:00.001+08:002011-08-02T00:31:03.596+08:00Everything is okay<p><font color="#a74abb" size="2">Dear God,</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="2">Please take care of my Bullet. She’s only 8, I thought dogs could live to 15? If anything, I wish I could understand her thoughts. I wish I knew where it hurt, I wish I knew where it was not alright. I wish I knew if the meds are helping. I wish I knew what to do.</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="2">There’s a wound on her neck that doesn’t seem to want to heal, and tonight I just saw her nose bleed. Could it be that I forgot to bath her and she scratched herself? Could it be that she poked herself on one of the sticks in the garden? Is it a tumor like the vet said it could be over the phone? Could it be the recent hot weather?</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="2">Dear God,</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="2">She’s been a good girl. She’s been my best friend, my sister. She’s a tough girl, so with a little help from You, she should be okay. Please make sure she is? </font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="2"></font> </p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="2"></font> </p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="2">And as for YOU. I wish you could see this because I would rather not say it to your face and spare fighting with you as I have better things to focus on now. You don’t want to help her, we will.</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="2">DO NOT EXPECT ANY KIND OF LOVE OR RESPECT FROM OTHERS WHEN THE ONLY PERSON YOU ARE CAPABLE OF LOVING IS YOURSELF. </font></p> Lynda lauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02470266041600148329noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-327745103649706522.post-55486571110839336712011-07-08T02:22:00.001+08:002011-07-08T02:22:35.481+08:00The Bintulu Journals: 1st July<p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">Today was the most hectic of all the days, and no, this is not lunch time. Today is stock take day. It is 30 minutes to midnight and I am here writing after a good dose of shower, dinner, Milo, and biscuits. And not forgetting Chor Dai Di which my colleagues taught me yesterday =D</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">Today was a hot, sticky, dirty day. Trampled in black muddy puddles of oil, glue, soil and wood scraps and in my Adidas, because old Nike could not come as his soles were dangling and threatening to fall off. It broke my heart to see the white on Adidas turn into shades of black :(</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">We went to eat foochow noodles, with big ass prawns. Only halfway though did I start thinking of the things people told me “<em>the cost of living in Bintulu is high”, “eating out in Bintulu is EXPENSIVE”.</em></font></p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-Km5b9V88hQ4/ThX5J2cjc7I/AAAAAAAAAKg/i7c351NKyMU/s1600-h/IMG_3251%25255B8%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_3251" style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="486" alt="IMG_3251" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-AFq-xqtZO_c/ThX5K8vqv6I/AAAAAAAAAKk/fk5KPEsRSs0/IMG_3251_thumb%25255B6%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="366" border="0"></a> </p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">I then starred at the gigantic prawn in my bowl of Foochow Noodles and thought “<em>CRAP I ONLY BROUGHT RM13 WITH ME”. </em>The person who took us out paid eventually but I felt super duper bad about it.</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">In 24 hours I will be back home and sitting in my own bed. Hence, a few more pictures to wrap up the Bintulu trip.</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">This was last night’s dinner.</font></p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-jhYwU8xb2yo/ThX5MIBCL_I/AAAAAAAAAKo/d0d8-BZNXJI/s1600-h/x%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="x" style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="486" alt="x" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-rWuVw4XsJNY/ThX5M6WR0LI/AAAAAAAAAKs/ld9RuR1UuBY/x_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="296" border="0"></a> </p> <p></p> <p></p> <p></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">Cucumbers, greens, pork and prawns. And that bowl at the back is filled with awesome sea cucumber soup.</font></p> <p><img title="IMG_3192" style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="486" alt="IMG_3192" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-Zo5c9c410Jk/ThX5OKMFjkI/AAAAAAAAAKw/2YKGMybxfOs/IMG_3192_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="646" border="0"></p> <p><font size="3">Vendors along the road</font></p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-O2G77Y53cIM/ThX5Owvw4FI/AAAAAAAAAK0/rnX6ZoEdZo4/s1600-h/IMG_3240%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_3240" style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="486" alt="IMG_3240" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-ks9-9nGHHRw/ThX5P8Bj0FI/AAAAAAAAAK4/lc_e0eY8bTE/IMG_3240_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="646" border="0"></a> </p> <p><font size="3">My pisang goreng stall</font></p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-TsrFaD-WTEY/ThX5QsOEZyI/AAAAAAAAAK8/VayMxuyL1w0/s1600-h/IMG_3243%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_3243" style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="486" alt="IMG_3243" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-CICfr5-1Psc/ThX5RZ7yCEI/AAAAAAAAALA/TlSVd3zHwFc/IMG_3243_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="366" border="0"></a> </p> <p><font size="3">Banana fritter; simple, sinful, yumminess.</font></p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-i7aTH7AG_F4/ThX5SZpIihI/AAAAAAAAALE/gV87-3dP4nM/s1600-h/IMG_3235%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_3235" style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="486" alt="IMG_3235" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-Qwd1Gbx6tIE/ThX5TkXGh_I/AAAAAAAAALI/oF1Y5rG34ho/IMG_3235_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="646" border="0"></a> </p> <p><font size="3">The Boys</font></p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-ggOFpKuy1Zw/ThX5UUkY_-I/AAAAAAAAALM/hRQJe5V1F1Q/s1600-h/IMG_3280%25255B11%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_3280" style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="486" alt="IMG_3280" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-eFmHqjD_2Yc/ThX5VU0fzYI/AAAAAAAAALQ/tUzY1_bM8c4/IMG_3280_thumb%25255B7%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="646" border="0"></a> </p> <p></p> <p></p> <p><font size="3">The Girls</font></p> <p><font size="3">The afternoon before we left, we were brought to this place for rojak. I thought ‘rojak ‘meant eating at coffee shops or hawker stalls. That made me feel better after the RM20 noodle experience. Instead, we were brought to Riverside Cafe, a hotel restaurant. *holds breath*</font></p> <p><font size="3">The rojak was indeed a bit different. Saltier and more watery than usual. Less sweet, and we were given a bowl of pound peanuts to sprinkle as we pleased.</font></p> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/--Ya8d_yj9FU/ThX5WBaERAI/AAAAAAAAALU/-f4Pe0HgIJk/s1600-h/IMG_3272%25255B10%25255D.jpg"><font color="#666666" size="3"><img title="IMG_3272" style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; margin-left: 0px; border-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="366" alt="IMG_3272" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-tDvtVMCoNjU/ThX5WzLI1hI/AAAAAAAAALY/xqhHRGgT_x8/IMG_3272_thumb%25255B6%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="486" border="0"></font></a><font size="3"> </font></p> <p><font size="3">We ordered this too. The called it sago. We call it ABC Cendol Special – because it had everything.</font></p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-Bq7MXB-NbPY/ThX5XvYfx5I/AAAAAAAAALc/27GWShSKRPI/s1600-h/IMG_3266%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_3266" style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="486" alt="IMG_3266" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-j84U-DcvLQU/ThX5YsLj8VI/AAAAAAAAALg/6M1JMbwup88/IMG_3266_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="366" border="0"></a> </p> <p><font size="3">Well it had everything except sugar. The sugar syrup came in a cute little er… syrup holder?</font></p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-d4Unx2gY89M/ThX5Zko7xCI/AAAAAAAAALk/IqFFA2zQEIM/s1600-h/IMG_3269%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_3269" style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="486" alt="IMG_3269" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/-0YneTjx4ev8/ThX5asfNBII/AAAAAAAAALo/YF8et4bnJWs/IMG_3269_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="366" border="0"></a> </p> <p><font size="3">Then we left for the airport and watched an entire Saw 4 movie as we shrieked and covered our eyes. </font></p> <p><font size="3">And that wraps up Bintulu. =)</font></p> Lynda lauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02470266041600148329noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-327745103649706522.post-35952537641829500732011-07-04T22:51:00.001+08:002011-07-04T22:51:04.551+08:00The Bintulu Journals: 30th June<p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">Lunch is over. I am done with the first episode of my Taiwanese drama and I am now writing because we’ve worked ahead of time. Awesomeness.</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">Yesterday evening we went for a jog, my colleague and I. It ends up that the place is not THAT big after all. Running one around around Jalan Song’s Friendship Park takes longer. I ended up running up and down the slope as there were dogs further into the housing area and my colleague was afraid. Prevention is better than cure huh?</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">The jog was followed by dinner and this is what we had. </font></p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-P4oFKZbBOEs/ThHTU7WHHtI/AAAAAAAAAKY/kDYXKR3BIeQ/s1600-h/IMG_3203%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_3203" style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="486" alt="IMG_3203" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-KJlg09icvTk/ThHTV0YLVAI/AAAAAAAAAKc/KfVuD94kj1M/IMG_3203_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="366" border="0"></a> </p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">Really, the food was pretty good and it looks a lot nicer than this. We had clams, eggplant, curry chicken, seaweed soup and cabbage. Dom says I suck at taking pictures. I think this is proof =S</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">Anyway, this was followed by an Orange, which I irresponsibly cut on a plate like I always did back in uni, until the <em>kakak</em> came and said “jangan potong atas pinggan, nanti scratch” *SHY MAX*</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">Nights were drama time with the colleague. It was this Taiwanese series that Kelyn gave me, about this happy family who was broken up by this girl. It included a lot of me yelling ‘fucker go die’ and her throwing blankets on the laptop and banging the mattress. </font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">Why men like damsel in distress-weak, innocent looking, constantly crying, but <em>hiaw</em> bitches har? takes two hands to clap.</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">Day three and no spiders yet. Bintulu has been kind to me. Looking forward to pisang goreng this evening and outdoor audit work tomorrow! =)</font></p> Lynda lauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02470266041600148329noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-327745103649706522.post-87015690496780676432011-07-04T22:45:00.001+08:002011-07-04T22:45:39.465+08:00The Bintulu Journals: 29th June<p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">Lunch time again. Today we had fried fish, cucumber and Japanese tofu for lunch. </font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">The staff living quarters was not too bad. It was even quite beautiful, with houses built in an enclosed area. There was no kitchen, but there was a separate unit where a <em>kakak</em> was there to cook breakfast and dinners for staffs. There was even a basketball court next to it. And from what I saw yesterday evening after work, it would be perfect for a jog too!</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">Outside the quarters, vendors drove to the area to set up stalls. Fear not for forgetting your body bath or shampoos, the sell those. I being tam chiak, bought pisang goreng after dinner. *I promise to run today if it doesn’t rain* SIX pieces of banana fritters for RM1 ! There goes my hopes of losing weight eh?</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">The only problem I had would be the spiders. Those big, black, fast and immortal ones who would never die no matter how much Ridsect you spray. Apparently they are many creeping around, says my colleague. And well, my second problem would be the toilet (where the spiders usually linger) which isn’t the cleanest toilet I’ve seen, and the mattress that flattens out you can feel the steel rods of the bed frame beneath you. But I guess I can live with that for another 3 to 4 days.</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">Currently enjoying the short break away responsibilities, away from home, away from Kuching, away from complaints and naggings and stubborn people, away from the cold house and away from the stress it brings. Maybe by Saturday night I’ll miss home enough to want to go back. Then Kuching will look all bright and sparkly once again =)</font></p> Lynda lauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02470266041600148329noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-327745103649706522.post-68519258216264301882011-07-03T23:11:00.001+08:002011-07-03T23:11:18.139+08:00The Bintulu Journals: 28th June<p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">Hello Bintulu.</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">That’s where I am today. That’s where I was told I’d be coming told by a kind colleague informally on Sunday night. And that’s where my manager told me I’d be heading to 24 hours ago. And here I am now, eating lunch out of a polystyrene box, brought in by a staff at the client office. </font></p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-q71fzPnFhew/ThCGiBhyHyI/AAAAAAAAAKI/OLHrVC-M6bM/s1600-h/IMG_3180%25255B4%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_3180" style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="486" alt="IMG_3180" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/-lyRJ86TpFQ0/ThCGjG9i3PI/AAAAAAAAAKM/fhavmue_VTQ/IMG_3180_thumb%25255B2%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="646" border="0"></a> </p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">Two vegetables and one (very tough) meat. If it’s any consolation, at least the three boxes of rice was brought in on a shiny metal tray, rather than in a plastic bag *optimism*</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">I am starting to wonder if I will start losing weight during my 6-day stay. Yes, we should always be hopeful. </font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">When I found out about this posting, my first thoughts were: “But I’m menstruating!”, “But Dom is coming back this week and we’re supposed to meet up!”… then reality sunk in and i thought “Well at least I’m with nice colleagues”.</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">The night before the bf packed my bags for me. Probably because he could not stand seeing me packing at snail pace. It was sweet and at the same time frustrating because I could not keep track of my things. But now, thinking of all the things he did for me – take me to buy my necessities, drive me to the airport at 5.45, give me encouraging words, I feel a bit bad for snapping. </font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">Waking up at 5am was most dreadful – I have never been a morning person. Lack of sleep and uncertain of what awaits, I hopped onto the flight. It was the first of me boarding MAS wings. I flew in a mini plane with four seats in a row and slept until they served breakfast. I had my first shot of caffeine, perked up and started anticipating what was coming.</font></p> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-wBsK6TX--WM/ThCGkFDte1I/AAAAAAAAAKQ/IMDQ0UcViQU/s1600-h/IMG_3178%252520%2525282%252529%25255B9%25255D.jpg"><img title="IMG_3178 (2)" style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="486" alt="IMG_3178 (2)" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/-FcOTuWEC0XA/ThCGlNohZAI/AAAAAAAAAKU/5naSZOHI10E/IMG_3178%252520%2525282%252529_thumb%25255B5%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="646" border="0"></a> </p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">I arrived at Bintulu airport met by a rainy day. It was refreshing to hear and smell rain after the many dry days in Kuching. I and stood there waiting for my transport with no idea who was coming, what car he drove, where we were going or what time he was arriving. The guy finally came anyway and took me straight to the client’s office. *faith* lol</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">So lunch time is over, I’ve had my second mug of coffee and enough caffeine to get me through noon,so I shall get back to work. Can’t wait to see how the living quarters looks like. Not keeping my hopes high because I haven’t heard many encouraging comments about it. But my aim is to hop into bed by 10pm.</font></p> Lynda lauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02470266041600148329noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-327745103649706522.post-56003103333504675902011-06-19T23:52:00.001+08:002011-06-19T23:58:32.183+08:00If I had another workless day<p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">If I had another workless day, I’d be happier than words can say.</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">I would clean that room and put that 3-month old baggage away. I would sort out my bags instead of go out to play.</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">I would clear all outstanding laundry and iron all my clothes. I’d change my bed sheets, maybe slap a mask on my nose.</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">If only tomorrow was again a Sunday, I promise I won’t play Angry Birds all day.</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">I would cut my nails neatly, perhaps paint them red. I would treatment my hair so they don’t look so dead. </font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">I would fill up my log book with the intern work I did. And maybe even print it out for my senior to read.</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">But Alas! I checked the calendar, and guess what I found? Not till August are public holidays coming around!</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">Hence, I guess I’ve got to be good. Do not what I like, but do what I should. Monday blues need to go away, the weekends are over work’s here to stay!</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">Perhaps…. on another day?</font></p> Lynda lauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02470266041600148329noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-327745103649706522.post-5252978813152832892011-05-24T00:37:00.001+08:002011-05-24T00:40:49.120+08:00I want my 10sen flight ticket, please?<p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">Air Asia, oh Air Asia.</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">Low cost carrier of Malaysia.</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">You made me so want to go to Australia.</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">Hati melompat, gembira sungguh beria-ia.</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3"></font> </p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">10sen sale hangat-hangat.</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">Nak pergi vacation teramat-amat.</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">But 10sen tickets it broke my heart.</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">Wanted to buy but no such luck.</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3"></font> </p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">I have never felt so desperate.</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">Waiting in hunger and stinky office wear.</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">Over your sale I was worried and afraid.</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">fingers crossed I pray and pray.</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3"></font> </p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">Frustrated and worried, excited yet sad.</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">Your promotion memang masa perfect.</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">Dahla 10sen, just nice I pun graduate.</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">But in the end, become very <em>pek chek</em>.</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3"></font> </p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">Waiting room again and again.</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">Key in guest info, error pula dia komen.</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">Hey my mom is waiting for that honeyoon.</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">I’ve been agitated since this afternoon.</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3"></font> </p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">Air Asia, ah Air Asia.</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">Low cost carrier of Malaysia.</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">Everyone fly, I want to fly too.</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">Don’t want to graduate and still be <em>sua ku.</em></font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3"></font> </p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3"><em>With Love,</em></font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3"><em>Very sad, pek chek and confused vacation planner,</em></font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3"><em> Lynda</em>.</font></p> <p><font size="3"></font> </p> <p><font color="#0000a0" size="3">**5 minutes later i get less excited and look properly, and realise than 10sen fare did not include Aussie after all. FML</font></p> Lynda lauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02470266041600148329noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-327745103649706522.post-75235082654261327862011-05-21T15:26:00.001+08:002011-05-21T15:26:57.286+08:00I was a rebel<p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">It’s Saturday. I need to vacuum and mop the floor, hang my clothes out to dry, spray my cabinets white so that it doesn’t stand out a shade of ugly brown among the others, print my logs for internship, bath my dog, bake a cheesecake, see the doctor, and many many more. </font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">I’ve however been laying here on my bean bag for four hours in front of the television watching Saturday morning cartoons and drinking coffee and dipping crackers into it while catching up on blogs and people I have not stalked for the past week. Multitasking at its best.</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">SO, rather than not getting anything done at all, I shall write about something I have been waiting to say for the past week but could not find time to – Rebellion. Wesak Day recently passed and I was reminded of the 15 year old me who rode on my mountain bike at 5am from Hui Sing Garden all the way down town and came home at 6am, that Wesak Morning, in the name of rebellion (Mom if you ever read this, I won’t ever do that again because I can now drive =P)</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">I must admit I wasn’t an easy kid to handle. Rebellion came early for me. My parents weren’t around due to their career commitments when I was at the period of transitioning from kid to teen. I was left with lots of time by my own to do my own things and think my own thoughts.</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">I thought Kancils with tinted black windows and loud exhausts pipes were cool. I thought being able to go clubbing was cool. I thought being able to go out till late at night was cool. I dreamt of running away. I dreamt of love, I dreamt of boys. I dreamt of independence. I sneaked out at night and got caught. I thought my mother was a control freak and I thought my father did not care. I thought of some people as my everything and thought of them as a reason I woke up each day. Sometimes I wanted to die. I didn’t talk to anyone at home. I locked my room doors and drew the curtains and scribbled my feelings on my bedroom walls. At one point, my mother got so angry with me she swung an axe at my bedroom door. The marks are still there. My relationship with my parents was a love-hate thing. I knew I loved them, but I hated how my mother forced me to eat, how my dad would not let me out, how she threatened me, and how she asked me to turn off my CD player as it played Eminem coz she thought it was bad influence. Lol . We couldn’t connect, at all. One day, my father even asked me if I was on drugs. And FYI, I never touched anything of that sort. I called my mom domineering and thought my dad was fit to be a dad. </font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">And now, approximately eight years later, I sometimes sit back and think about those times. Nope, I don’t regret being a rebel. All that fighting and tears and time thinking to myself and writing in my diaries (which I now read and feel embarrassed of) have somehow built who I am today and led to me finding myself in some way. Those years were my best years with my best friends, who understood me when I thought no one would. Who covered for me, who hopped onto the emotion rollercoaster for me, who looked out for me.</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">But if I did have a regret, then it would be the hurt I inflicted on my parents. Imagine their worry of what I was turning into those days. And I am pretty sure I made my mother cry. </font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">If I had something to say to my then 14/15/16 year old self, it would be that no matter what, mom and dad are the ones that will stick by you when you go out and come home coated in shit (and still give you pocket money). They may not understand, so do be patient. But they are those that will never ever EVER abandon you, unlike the people who came and left in your then rebel of a life, whom you thought so highly of. Remember how your dad sold his stuff to buy you S-26 as a baby. Remember how your mother brought you up without a husband by her side and taught you everything you knew. </font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">Thing I’m saying is, at that moment of being a rebel, not everyone you think is important, is REALLY important. And no one will ever be more important that mom and dad, coz one day, when all the ‘important’ people are gone, you’ll realize that mom and dad are still there for you despite all that shit you put them through. Like driving you to your PMR and SPM and STPM exams, pay for your education, accompany you to JPA Scholarship interviews which you fail then comfort you, give you moral support on your job, accompany you to University on your first day, bring you home from KL when you get Dengue and look after you, and well, you get what I mean.</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">Sometimes I think that me starting to rebel so early is a good thing. At least I didn’t own a driving license to terrorize Kuching drivers, or go out drinking alcohol because I was still underage, or leave home as I was not financially independent. I am thankful my mother laid all the foundation in me regarding the importance of an education. If not, i might have dropped out of school and went on to work with merely a PMR qualification. I’m glad I no longer need to rebel, because now my parents do not care what music I play and mom even gives me the car keys when say I’m going out for supper at 11pm. Dad on the other hand is a different case lah, owh well, always daddy’s lil girl =)</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">When I think of my kids in future, I sometimes shudder to think that karma would bite me in the ass and my daughter would be like I was.</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3"></font> </p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3"></font></p> Lynda lauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02470266041600148329noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-327745103649706522.post-90551598101208979582011-04-19T22:00:00.001+08:002011-04-19T22:04:04.103+08:00Lunch box idea #2<p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">This is another something I came up with. Something not too heavy so I do not doze off, not too full of sauce so I can dump it all into one container and not too oily so I don’t feel bad later =P</font></p> <p><a href="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_nfsZ1jrpT-0/Ta2VbEWL2NI/AAAAAAAAAJw/Ybx5YPp5iuU/s1600-h/IMG_2466%5B7%5D.jpg"><img title="IMG_2466" style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="366" alt="IMG_2466" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_nfsZ1jrpT-0/Ta2VbyV9hGI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/ig7ldUfq95Q/IMG_2466_thumb%5B5%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="486" border="0"></a> </p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">I boiled the potato the night before. It was the next morning that I decided to throw them into the pan with the Japanese tofu for a light sear using olive oil – didn’t feel like eating them too bland. Sprinkled parsley, salt and lots of pepper on em. Did the same to the Japanese tofu. Put them into the pan before my shower and by the time I was done so were they.</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">The french beans were lightly cooked. I don’t like mushy beans. Gave everything a nice crunch. </font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">The tomatoes were like the desserts. Ate them raw. Raw is healthier, I guess? And also less work. Tee hee. But make sure they’re clean. I soaked them overnight.</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">Owh and by the way, THIS is ROU JIANG…</font></p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_nfsZ1jrpT-0/Ta2VdEQq2_I/AAAAAAAAAJ4/v2NWhTxtqPQ/s1600-h/IMG_2481%5B2%5D.jpg"><img title="IMG_2481" style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="184" alt="IMG_2481" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_nfsZ1jrpT-0/Ta2Vd68b6jI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/Pm56naFcS3M/IMG_2481_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" border="0"></a> </p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">which to bananas like me, translates to..</font></p> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_nfsZ1jrpT-0/Ta2VewnBnqI/AAAAAAAAAKA/JmU3xamRcfQ/s1600-h/IMG_2483%5B2%5D.jpg"><img title="IMG_2483" style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="184" alt="IMG_2483" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_nfsZ1jrpT-0/Ta2VfTj8VrI/AAAAAAAAAKE/b63NGY2obk4/IMG_2483_thumb.jpg?imgmax=800" width="244" border="0"></a> </p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">“pork mince with bean paste”…</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">or should it be '”minced pork with bean paste” ? Anyway, it tastes awesome and is even awesomer to spice up food for lazy bones like me =D</font></p> Lynda lauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02470266041600148329noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-327745103649706522.post-46890243378105629982011-04-03T00:16:00.001+08:002011-04-03T12:34:03.028+08:00Lunch box idea #1<p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">My hope of eating healthier food and saving my meager intern allowance, and well, stop gaining weight has led to my effort of packing lunch to work. And this is what I came up with:</font></p> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_nfsZ1jrpT-0/TZdL4Qq13eI/AAAAAAAAAJo/BJ_nJUN4S04/s1600-h/IMG_2464%5B6%5D.jpg"><img title="IMG_2464" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="486" alt="IMG_2464" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/_nfsZ1jrpT-0/TZdL57kRSyI/AAAAAAAAAJs/z0HLsLA_uS4/IMG_2464_thumb%5B4%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="646" border="0"></a> </p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">Lunch box idea #1 – vermicelli with shredded cucumber, tomatoes, and a hard boiled egg, topped with ‘rou jiang’ (meat paste?) mixed with sesame oil, light soy sauce and sprinkled with spring onions. No ginger, because I was lazy to peel off its skin and shred my ginger finely.</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">When mixed with the vermicelli and meat paste, the cucumbers give the whole thing a refreshing crunch despite having being stored in a lunch box for 5 hours. It also adds to the volume of the whole thing, so I feel like I’m eating a little more. The thought helps me last till dinner. Lol. The meat paste gives it a savoury taste so at least, I don’t feel like a cow eating grass throughout lunch. I really like the combination of the three. </font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">As for the tomatoes, I added them in because to give me that extra boost of vitamins (or maybe just to make me feel like the meal is healthier). After all, tomatoes are awesome in a sense that they do not need to be cooked, hold their shape, and don’t turn yellow like leafy greens – which makes them perfect for sandwiches too I guess.</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">I prefer soft boiled eggs, but in this case, hard would be the way to go. The eggs give me a break from all the crunch from the vermicelli and sour tomatoes when I feel like biting into something softer, more protein-like, and feels more substantial.</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">Guess I’m not very good at describing food – my taste palates usually talk to my brain directly. But overall, I thought this was a satisfying lunch. Well, satisfying, as long as your colleague doesn’t eat Kolo Mee in front of you =P</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3"></font></p> Lynda lauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02470266041600148329noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-327745103649706522.post-59281741693485655842011-03-28T00:15:00.001+08:002011-03-28T00:15:37.633+08:00A vision of lunch<p><font color="#873997" size="3">It’s Monday *sad*</font></p> <p><font color="#873997" size="3">Work starts in 8.5 hours *sadder*</font></p> <p><font color="#873997" size="3">Lately I’ve had a vision. To pack my own lunch to work, at least 3 out of my 5 working days. This is why:</font></p> <p><font color="#873997" size="3">Because my mom said I am fat. More than once.</font></p> <p><font color="#873997" size="3">Because I feel fat. </font></p> <p><font color="#873997" size="3">Because every time I see a particular top/dress/pants, I’d say “Can’t wear that, no waist”</font></p> <p><font color="#873997" size="3">Because I feel bad eating lunch full of carbs and sitting down on my ass facing Microsoft Excel all day, then coming home to eat dinner and feel too tired to do anything else aside from sleep.</font></p> <p><font color="#873997" size="3">Because it gives me an excuse to cook.</font></p> <p><font color="#873997" size="3">Because I get to play in the kitchen, despite wondering how motivated I may be to do so at 7am in the morning, while rushing to go to work.</font></p> <p><font color="#873997" size="3">Because it’ll be healthier (I think?)</font></p> <p><font color="#873997" size="3">We shall see how long this lasts. *fingers crossed* I will <em>try </em>to be creative and not fry an egg and slap it between cheese and two pieces of bread. lol.</font></p> <p><font color="#873997" size="3">Tomorrow’s lunch will be vermicelli with cucumbers, tomatoes, a lil ginger, and a hard boiled egg. Topped with ‘rou jiang’.</font></p> <p><font color="#873997" size="3">And now its time to rush to bed so I can wake up on time tomorrow =D</font></p> <p><font color="#873997" size="3"></font></p> Lynda lauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02470266041600148329noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-327745103649706522.post-71202677560954081842011-03-26T14:40:00.001+08:002011-03-26T14:40:29.060+08:00What do the ladies prefer?<p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">Hello world, today is the awesomest day of the week, and on this awesomest day, I came across this - “<font color="#000000"><strong>What do ladies prefer to hear from their husbands?”.</strong></font></font></p> <p><font color="#000000" size="3"><strong>1. The truth and nothing but the truth</strong></font></p> <p><font color="#000000" size="3"><strong>2. Lies and nothing but lies</strong></font></p> <p><font color="#000000" size="3"><strong>3. Hide whatever you do not like and tell you only things that you like to hear.</strong></font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">I think I have a lot to say about this and Facebook does not give enough comment space. Furthermore, it was not from my account (Yes, I stalk the bf).</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">You see, #2 is obviously a no brainer. Which lady would want to hear all lies, and nothing but lies. Unless she’s actually a croaking toad who doesn’t know how to cook and is living in denial and needs convincing that she is actually a beautiful human being who sings like angels and cooks awesome meals,by a human husband whom she fell in love with and forced to marry her. </font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">The debate now stands between #1 and #3. At the first instance, I am sure many would go for option #1. Honesty is after all the best policy, no? </font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">Then you start to think a little harder, and you start to feel that #3 makes a better choice. Why put yourself through the unnecessary squabbles when you can be happy and lovey dovey, as long as you are capable of keeping your mouth shut at the right time. </font><font color="#a74abb" size="3">“when you have nothing nice to say, keep quiet”.</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb"><font size="3">This however would be my answer: I do not know, because I am not married. But if I were, I would want the truth, put into words that are less hurtful to the ear. Tell me I gained weight – it helps me to realise when it’s time i started working out and eating right. Tell me the dress doesn’t look good – it’d save me money not buying it. Tell me I’m doing things wrong, its helps me figure how to do it right. Tell me that you spoke to another girl, it tells me you have nothing to hide. Tell me where you are going and with whom, it tells me I shouldn’t worry, and where to find you incase of anything. Tell me you cheated on me. I might forgive you. And if you know I won’t, what’s the point in keeping me by not telling me?</font><font size="3">So unless you’re positive that you can only let me hear the things I want to hear for the rest of my life, go ahead and hide the things I don’t want to hear. </font></font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">Tell me, because I believe I am stronger than you think when it comes to hearing things I don’t like. Lie and keep the peace, but if I do find out, a lot of things will change, because trust is the pillar of the relationship and you’re weakening its foundation.. </font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">Cheat me once, shame on you. Twice, and the shame is on me.</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">…</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">…</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">…</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">On a lighter note, ST said this about me: “Food and you, inseparable”</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">Hence I found a meaning to the word ‘Grateful’. Grateful is when I should thank God that I am as meaty/fleshy/chubby as I am now, rather than like a fishball with toothpicks for limbs.</font></p> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_nfsZ1jrpT-0/TY2KWG_kr3I/AAAAAAAAAJg/DTU6P_9Bu28/s1600-h/IMG_1797%5B4%5D.jpg"><img title="IMG_1797" style="border-right: 0px; border-top: 0px; display: inline; border-left: 0px; border-bottom: 0px" height="486" alt="IMG_1797" src="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_nfsZ1jrpT-0/TY2KXDVI-NI/AAAAAAAAAJk/TyIWZhlro-Y/IMG_1797_thumb%5B2%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="366" border="0"></a> </p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">I miss this. Sticky date pudding from Frames, Sunway Pyramid. Uh…and also the two aunties behind it.</font></p> Lynda lauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02470266041600148329noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-327745103649706522.post-82834667759378980932011-03-06T03:02:00.001+08:002011-03-06T21:22:24.594+08:00When you come across animal-hurting animals<p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">I’ve been interning for a week now, life has been hectic. By the time I’ve finished work, had dinner, bathed, I get so tired all I want to do is sleep. Besides, being sleepy at work and yawning away not only gives a bad impression, it is also super torturing. And you can’t skip class to go home for naps like in uni. Hence on a Saturday night/Sunday morning, I passed going to bed and decided to talk about something I hold close to my heart: Animals.</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">I was stalking the bf’s FB and came across this – someone from Kuching itself, blogging about how his/her animal took shelter from the rain in a neighbor’s house and ended up getting beaten up by a metal stick. </font></p> <p><a href="http://stopabusinganimal.blogspot.com/2011/03/dog-abuse.html">http://stopabusinganimal.blogspot.com/2011/03/dog-abuse.html</a></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">I love animals. But even then, sometimes I find it difficult to make my stand. I do not eat shark fin soup but it simply isn’t polite to barge into a wedding dinner with a table full of elders and tell them not to, out of respect. I love animals, but I’m not too sure where the answer is when I ask myself, “then why am I not a vegetarian?”. And when I encounter people I know, ie: a friend’s friend/relative/etc mistreating a pet, how far am I supposed to go to voice out my concerns? Would I cause awkwardness/disrespect? </font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">The answer to those questions I have yet to know, but now I think I do know what to do when I see a stranger hurting/trying to hurt an animal, because that first day of CNY, I received practical training for that.</font></p> <p><a href="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_nfsZ1jrpT-0/TXKI1AM00tI/AAAAAAAAAJY/Udr8bWuac2o/s1600-h/166647_10150093831177370_582627369_6012777_6720683_n%5B4%5D.jpg"><img title="166647_10150093831177370_582627369_6012777_6720683_n" style="border-top-width: 0px; display: inline; border-left-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px" height="486" alt="166647_10150093831177370_582627369_6012777_6720683_n" src="http://lh5.ggpht.com/_nfsZ1jrpT-0/TXKI2Aei5DI/AAAAAAAAAJc/ioWQIMCHqeM/166647_10150093831177370_582627369_6012777_6720683_n_thumb%5B2%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="492" border="0"></a> </p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">I stole this picture from <a href="http://baoqier.blogspot.com">BaoQi’s</a> FB. She refers to him as ‘fox dog’. This guy actually belongs to someone else along the street, but he was abandoned (I’m not too sure if the owner abandoned him of he abandoned his owner). But because he was such a darling, I see the other neighbours in the area giving him food and shelter. I met him once as I was walking home, and he wagged and trotted along wanting to play. How could anyone not love him?</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">That day, I saw his ex-owners throwing firecrackers at him – those that spin around and crackle on the ground. He ran. After a while, he came back barking at them, and to my horror, there was a toddler, holding out a stick of fireworks (the ciplak kind that only shoots as high as the telephone post). A man was carrying that toddler and holding the toddler’s hand to aim the firework at the dog’s mouth.</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">I yelled at them from my grandmother’s house that was across the street and I could obviously see that the man was halfway into aiming those fireworks at me. He yelled back at me with the most foul of foul words I have ever in my 23 years of living heard, and I wouldn’t say I didn’t yell back. But the whole thing erupted into a fight between two families when my mom, dad, grandad, grandma and aunt came out. But for the record the had three whole generations out there watching the dog tortured already, and uh, two men came over to my grandmother’s house and started getting physical first. </font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">I could go on and talk about how I wish he would die and burn in hell, or how that toddler would grow up and throw firecrackers at him in return, or many many other horrible things. I would have, but now, I realised that the way I reacted was indeed wrong. So rather than cursing and swearing, I think I would rather share my experience in case someone else might face the same thing as I did. </font></p> <p><font color="#ff0080" size="3"><u>When you come across an abuser:</u></font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3"><strong>#1. My mother told me this: Don’t be angry with the wrong-doer. Rather, put your energy into helping the victim.</strong> Rather than yell at Mr.X (i will be polite, and for the sake of politeness I will not name him after swear words) I should have called fox dog over. </font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3"><strong>#2. Evidence is everything.</strong> So if you have a camera/ camera phone take lots and lots of pictures, or even better, a video! These will be useful when it comes to making reports to the authorities (SPCA/ police/ NGOs/ etc). I wanted to bang my head on the wall the moment I got home because I had a freakin camera there and then in my handbag. But instead, I chose to jump head first into the fire. But then again I won’t have been sure whether to call fox dog over or hide in the car and take a video of Mr. X. Well, I guess that depends on every respective situation.</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3"><strong>#3. Think, think hard, then act.</strong> On my car ride back home after the incident, I thought of many many things. When Mr. X came over to push my dad, and my dad in return reacted very emotionally, it made me wonder what would have happened if a fight really broke out. It made me wonder, what if it was my 83 year old grandfather that was pushed and he fell down. It made me wonder what if he hurt my mother. It made me wonder, so what, after all that fighting, they could hurt the dog again later. Fighting was pointless.</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">If I had only thought before I got all emotional and yelled, perhaps it wouldn’t have been so pointless. I decided to involve myself, alone, but never did I think that others would be dragged in.</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3"><strong>#4. Never go head on with the abuser.</strong> For my case, I already knew Mr.X was a mean person. I have heard of him knocking down his neighbour, verbally abusing people, beating his wife and shooting the fox dog using that toy gun with plastic pellets. </font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">So why on earth would someone inhumane like that listen to me when I tell him to stop aiming fireworks at a dog? Wrong approach, wrong approach. </font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3"><strong>#5. Don’t ever ever ever lose your cool – stay calm.</strong> I lost mine for those 10 to 15 minutes as I yelled foul words back at Mr. X. It gained me nothing, I wasn’t thinking, and my reputation dropped to equal his. Plus, staying calm helps you think. Maybe I should have taken out my camera and went “whoa, your fireworks are so awesome lemme take a video of them”, zoom into his face, then call the dog over and flash him a big smile. Then, upload it onto facebook and give everyone his address.</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3"></font> </p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3"></font> </p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3">There, my take on the things to do when you come across butt-faced heartless germs that are doing nothing but wasting space on earth, disguised in human form – because you’re not even worthy of being called ‘animal’ *sorry I had to get that out*</font></p> <p><font color="#a74abb" size="3"></font></p> Lynda lauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02470266041600148329noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-327745103649706522.post-65990735727509136792011-02-25T17:09:00.001+08:002011-09-04T21:33:27.481+08:00Bleeding heart<p><font color="#8000ff" size="3">Headed home, flight got delayed over an hour. Sitting at the LCCT departure hall bench and feeling a sting/cut/stab in the heart.</font></p> <p><font color="#8000ff" size="3">This is the baggage I brought home with me. Part of it being the bf’s. </font></p> <p><a href="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-pRuCxRk5a_U/TmN-I7lRzbI/AAAAAAAAALs/r35E4fPpA4g/s1600-h/IMG_2374%252520%2525282%252529%25255B7%25255D.jpg"><img style="background-image: none; border-bottom: 0px; border-left: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; display: inline; border-top: 0px; border-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px" title="IMG_2374 (2)" border="0" alt="IMG_2374 (2)" src="http://lh4.ggpht.com/-9dfWq93vCqg/TmN-Jg_-7wI/AAAAAAAAALw/GqPfqmAH-5E/IMG_2374%252520%2525282%252529_thumb%25255B4%25255D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="366" height="486"></a></p> <p><font color="#8000ff" size="3">70kilograms, yo.</font></p> <p><font color="#8000ff" size="3">The sting the cut and the stab is due to the RM300 that was just handed over to the lady behind the AirAsia counter, despite it not being mine.</font></p> <p><font color="#8000ff" size="3">Because <em>this</em> donkey refused to listen to me.</font></p> <p><a href="http://lh6.ggpht.com/_nfsZ1jrpT-0/TWdwuuUQ8BI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/QuOto4gP14I/s1600-h/IMG_2390%5B4%5D.jpg"><img style="border-right-width: 0px; display: inline; border-top-width: 0px; border-bottom-width: 0px; border-left-width: 0px" title="IMG_2390" border="0" alt="IMG_2390" src="http://lh3.ggpht.com/_nfsZ1jrpT-0/TWdxr6A8EBI/AAAAAAAAAJU/2BKMdjxp7xM/IMG_2390_thumb%5B2%5D.jpg?imgmax=800" width="366" height="486"></a> </p> <p><font color="#8000ff" size="3">You see, there was supposed to be another hand carry luggage, which <em>this</em> donkey stubbornly threw into the cargo, and the AirAsia lady passed onto the conveyor belt, which was impossible to retrieve after it was obvious our baggage was overweight. *i smell conspiracy – she only let us put two luggages on at a time* But still…….</font></p> <p><font color="#8000ff" size="3">DUH I am thinking of the shoes/handbag/benefit cosmetics that the RM150 we could have easily save could fetch me.</font></p> <p><font color="#8000ff" size="3">I am not stingy. I am just being a female. A female accountant-to-be.</font></p> <p><font color="#8000ff" size="3">*grumble grumble grumble* *wipes bleeding heart with tissue paper*</font></p> Lynda lauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02470266041600148329noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-327745103649706522.post-31709124367557661782011-02-24T14:46:00.001+08:002011-02-24T14:47:29.738+08:00When I talk to myself<p><font color="#8000ff" size="3">Done with exams! Not quite sure if I managed to throw in a fifth screw, but I guess it doesn’t matter - It ended, like finally!</font></p> <p><font color="#8000ff" size="3">I’ve been cleaning the room, packing up and getting ready to move back. No, actually, I think the bf did more packing for me than I did for myself, thanks to my sensitive nose and inability to organize my brain when there’s too much to do (ie: too many things to keep). He packed for me when I left Kuching, and now he’s packing for me when I leave Cyberjaya. Teehee. Bliss. </font></p> <p><font color="#8000ff" size="3">My belongings came up to five boxes and three luggage bags, excluding the corner of things I left in old house courtesy of my housemates. </font><font color="#8000ff" size="3">I intended to take a picture to keep in eternal remembrance my embarrassing habit excessive purchasing and inability to live out of a suitcase. I was however too busy sneezing my brains out due to the dust, and by the end of packing, I was have splitting headaches from all that hardcore sneezing.</font></p> <p><font color="#8000ff" size="3">As usual, I like to divert from the things I intend to say/do – which is why packing is so hard. So here’s what I really intended to write about; the things I say to myself. I wonder if normal people say these things/ask these questions to themselves too. And if they don’t, maybe other weird people won’t feel so weird knowing that they are not alone in this.</font></p> <p><font color="#8000ff" size="3">On self-image:</font></p> <p><font color="#8000ff" size="3">1. “Did I gain weight? or is the weighing scale spoilt.” –> and so this is what people call living in denial, or, then again, maybe the weighing scale really IS spoilt. But to be fair, I ask myself the same thing went the needle shows lower than what it should.</font></p> <p><font color="#8000ff" size="3">2. “Do I look like her?” (because I’ve never found someone who looks like me). And I think the question of “is what I see in the mirror the same as what other people see?” belongs in the same category. This thought has always lingered, ever since my primary school days.</font></p> <p><font color="#8000ff" size="3">3. “Am I skinnier compared to my secondary days, or did I just stop hating my body and got more comfortable with it.” I secretly think I just got more comfortable (although I’d like to believe otherwise), because I don’t feel like beating myself up anymore when I don’t sweat every two days or when I over indulge in good food – which I’m not sure whether is a good or bad thing.</font></p> <p><font color="#8000ff" size="3">In the exam halls:</font></p> <p><font color="#8000ff" size="3">4. “I wonder if it'd be alright if I asked the invigilator what this question meant.” (but for the record I hardly ever do that)</font></p> <p><font color="#8000ff" size="3">5. Following no.4 – “would that be cheating?”</font></p> <p><font color="#8000ff" size="3">6. And, when I do ask, and get no answer… “Is there some secret technique for people to ask the invigilator things? Why' is the invigilator saying so much to them but not me huh.”</font></p> <p><font color="#8000ff" size="3">On shopping:</font></p> <p><font color="#8000ff" size="3">7. “Don’t aim to buy a particular thing, because when you do, you’ll never get it.” –> this is odd, but true. And I have yet to discover why. I tend to fall in love when I don’t plan to – which is dangerous because it sometimes involves spending out of the budget, but yet thrilling, because you feel so darn lucky to have stumbled upon something so nice. </font></p> <p><font color="#8000ff" size="3">8. “I am not going to buy anymore shoes.”</font></p> <p><font color="#8000ff" size="3">9. “I think I should buy this pair of shoes. Shoe shopping is impossible in Kuching. Plus when I really need shoes, they’re impossible to find.” (refer to 7)</font></p> <p><font color="#8000ff" size="3">10. “It’s so hard to find flats/ pumps/ bags/ pants/ formal shirts that are nice/ fit properly. I should get this, in case I need it someday.”</font></p> <p><font color="#8000ff" size="3">11. “Depreciate it !” ……*count count count*……….. “Okay, buy.”</font></p> <p><font color="#8000ff" size="3">Other random quirky things:</font></p> <p><font color="#8000ff" size="3">12. “If my zipper down?” *tries to awkwardly look down hoping no one notices*</font></p> <p><font color="#8000ff" size="3">13. When in planes and a baby starts wailing “They should have a soundproof section in the plane and put all the babies in there.” Sorry, I’m not a big fan of noisy kids. I only like them when they’re quiet, sweet, and polite.</font></p> <p><font color="#8000ff" size="3">14. When I see people abusing animals, I usually think of reversing it, with the animal doing the same to them. And it also usually involves “I want to skin the fella, hang him upside down and sprinkle salt on him and tie him to a rambutan tree infested with ants.” This saying I took from my mother.</font></p> <p><font color="#8000ff" size="3">15. “Am I normal?”</font></p> Lynda lauhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02470266041600148329noreply@blogger.com0