Life As I See It

I like to think that I have a good life.
Not great, not fantastic, but good.
At least in my own terms.

And often times, I like to indulge in what little I have ,
and take every minute to savor the small things I call Luxurious.

It might not be luxurious to…saaay…,**thinking**     Andrea Fonseka
( who looks darn hot nowadays, with a hefty Marie France contract under her belt, as well as being probably 20 pounds lighter that complements her legs that goes on forever. Did I ever say I love looking at beautiful women?) who earns a salary 50 times bigger than I do.
But to me, they are what I call Luxurious Indulgence.

It’s just delish!

RM 6 kaliau Ngau- Chap at Hilltop. The best- ever!

Un-putdownable frappuccino and the glorious muffin.**Drool**

This is probably the best mee laksa in the entire universe. Very thick gravy and tender meat! We’ll drive all the way to Sunny Graden for this.

I’m so lucky to be able to savor all this, and I count my blessings.

This song just came to mind as I was typing.

Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens
Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens
Brown paper packages tied up with strings
These are a few of my favorite things
Cream coloured ponies and crisp apple strudels
Doorbells and sleighbells and schnitzel with noodles
Wild geese that fly with the moon on their wings
These are a few of my favorite things
Girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes
Snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes
Silver white winters that melt into springs
These are few of my favorite things
When the dog bites, when the bee stings, when I’m feeling sad
I simply remember my favorite things and then I don’t feel so bad

Geez.

I didn’t realize they were all food! Honestly, the title should be changed to “ Why I’m still fat” or "Why Andrea Fonseka is darn hot but not me". Sigh!

Yes, I did make a big fuss about the Ahbeng hairdresser.

And I was pissed alright.

But I thought, If you stay pissed and look ugly, it won’t do you any good.

So I took it all in a stride, and executed the hair damage control.

There wasn’t much to do with it since I didn’t want neither a shorter hair cut nor a curly hair. The most imaginable hairstyle I thought I could handle was a full straight fringe, with half of my hair at the rear. Before deciding what to really do with it, I decided to have some fun.

I browsed the net and found this site where you can upload pictures of yourself and virtually change your hairstyle. The best part was, It even gave the correct style for your facial shape and features. So here are some of it!

                                                 

                                                   

 

So which one did I settle for? None of them..Just had fun with the application.=P

I decided to go for that thick, straight fringe ‘do.. with much self-doubt.

You see, I have never been a fringe- person. My whole student life, the only hairstyle I wore was fringeless straight hair which was usually pulled back. The length varied from nape, to shoulder, to chest but one thing always remained- I never had a fringe. I didn’t like any hair getting in my face.

So this thick , straight style was a really hard decision to make. But I braced myself to my hairdresser. And after much consultation and them assuring me I’d pull it off, I obliged. So, (holding my breath) here it is!

Errmm..Ok kah?

She didn’t deserve to die in that inhumane manner.
Nor did she deserve to be the object of a brutal, sadistic, perverted – psycho rapist’s satisfaction.
   
No one does.

My heart cried when I read more news on this little girls’ brutal murder.

A lump is growing in my throat as I type.

In a flash, it all seemed like those gruesome true stories
from other countries that I read in magazines or those
I’ve watched in crime documentaries.
All unreal and far-fetched.
It wasn’t something I thought could happen in our own land.

My heart bled even more when I read that on that fateful day, she was out to buy her favorite hairclip.
And how her best friend in Primary 2 adores her black shiny hair and knows her for her fondness of pretty scrunchies.
She just wanted to get one more adornment for her beautiful hair that day.
Probably one more scrunchy.

Witnesses saw her being dragged into a van, screaming.
These questions darted in my mind ; Did anyone try to run after the van,
or maybe get the van’s plate number,
or was brave enough to chase after her in their car?
I wish someone did. I really do.

Her story made me ponder, wiped some smiles from my face and saw myself counting my blessings.
And I’m thankful that growing up,
life was so carefree that I could run to the shop at any hour of the day to buy a packet of keropok or get santan for mummy.                                                            That I could play at the playground blocks away from home without fearing any harm.                               That I could walk home with my friends across the lifeless graveyard after school clubs, and arrive safely.
That my preteen sister at that time, could go to town with me in tow, on a bus, and eat ABC at the dark night market without any anxiety.

Right this moment, I fear for my two nieces.What would the world be like to them?
Leandra, Hazel and Ryan. May the angels guard your lives.

Nurin Jazlin, may your soul rest in peace.
I know you’re in heaven, laying in God’s hand,
and your shiny black hair looking pretty in those colorful scrunchies.

What was supposed to be a relaxing, stress – free day turned out as a mildly furor- inflicting scene this Monday morning. That day, as if to honour the Agung’s birthday, Sam and I decided to go to his hairdresser down in Beverly and get ourselves a good trim. I rarely go to a salon that’s foreign to me, especially for a haircut. And Sam knows that too well. But since it was just a small trim for my fringe, I didn’t mind and wanted to be a good sport about it . Plus, we just had a gratifying serving of Tom Yam meehoon and I was in a belly-jolly mood.

First, when we arrived, the tiny boxed-up salon was full. Secondly, it wasn’t the same over-bleached haired ladies working there anymore. It was an Ahbeng hairdresser cum proprieter who occasionally flipped his green comb in the air, an obvious show off.
After our turn came 45 minutes later ( mind you,  I never have to sit around and wait that long, ever) , I found myself being served by a sad, blank- faced, amateurish girl who didn’t show any indication that she is into fashion or hair whatsoever. You know, hairdressers or even shampoo girls usually dress to the max and wears jaw-dropping hairstyles.

I should have guessed.

“Mau gunting macamana?” was all she said. I gave a lengthy picture of how I wanted a soft, side-swept, falling- just- under -my- eyes fringe and I was really specific about it being the in Japanese- style.  She just nodded and quickly snipped away.

In retrospect, I should have showed her this picture.

She never even stopped to ask whether it was okay, or if it was what I wanted. By the time I realized, it was already too short! And it wasn’t cute at all.

I tried to be as composed as possible and pointed out to her, “Ini telampau pendek. Ini bukan apa yang saya minta” while deciding whether I should throw a tantrum or not. She insisted it IS Japanese style and I shot back a firm “NO”. She started to quiver when I repeatedly say it’s not what I wanted. By this time, the Ahbeng boss intervened, and being the expert he is, he agreed it WASN’T the cute, soft swept Japanese style I wanted.

“Oh sorry aa..dia tidak tau bah”
( SORRY? Tida tau kenapa nda Tanya!?). I must have had this green face by this time cause Sam looked at me with a please-don’t-blow-up look.

“Sorry aa..nanti panjang ko balik sini, saya yang gunting..free punya”

I scoffed a ( SAVE IT) look. And walked out.

Sam stayed to get his trim done and I got angrier when came in the car, trying to defend the salon saying, “No other salons would apologize and not charge tau..You shouldn’t be that mad..he asked you to come back next time”.

I blurted out “SORRYLAH”.

And the day just went downhill from there.

Here’s the damage.

Girls, I’m sure you understand my anger.