Tag! You're It!

Thank you Frankensteina for tagging me! Heck, I don't know what this survey is for but it looks like fun. So here goes:

1. Name one person who made you laugh last night.

My husband who was telling me his encounter in the KLCC public toilet when the cleaning lady taught him how to use the automatic water faucet and soap dispenser.

2. What were you doing at 0800?

Internet surfing.

3. What were you doing 30 minutes ago?

Putting the rambunctious Sadia to sleep.

4. What happened to you in 2006?

Had a baby, quit my job and living the life in the Netherlands.

5. What was the last thing you said out loud?

Sadia, No, no,no!

6. How many beverages did you have today?

I've lost count. But the highlight was the vanilla latte in Starbucks. :)

7. What color is your hairbrush?

Hmm, it depends on which ones I'm using and if I remember to comb. Haha!

8. What was the last thing you paid for?

Everything was paid by hubby since it's our anniversary. ;)

9. Where were you last night?

Having an anniversary dinner in The Gardens.

10. What color is your front door?

That's a tough one. I'm not particularly observant. I think it's greyish brown.

11. Where do you keep your change?

Mostly in the pocket of my green handbag.

12. What’s the weather like today?

Cooling rain!

13. What’s the best ice-cream flavor?

Rocky Road Chocolate! Yum.

14. What excites you?

Do macaroons count? *someone rolling eyes somewhere, enough with that already!*

15. Do you want to cut your hair?

I'm in need of a trim and fast!

16. Are you over the age of 25?

If I say yes, do I get a free makeover? *batting eyelashes*

17. Do you talk a lot?

Depends on the company OR if I'm high on caffeine OR Both.

18. Do you watch the O.C.?

Not interested in teenage angst serials anymore.

19. Do you know anyone named Steven?

How does this information pertain to the survey, I wonder? But if it is that important, the answer would be a flat No.

20. Do you make up your own words?

All the time, baby.

21. Are you a jealous person?

Don't get me started. Hahahaha.

22. Name a friend whose name starts with the letter ‘A’.

Amy!

23. Name a friend whose name starts with the letter ‘K’.

Huh? Long lost friend cum neighbour whom I have not spoken to in a long while, count? If so, Kamaliah. Ooops, make that NOR-Kamaliah.

24. Who’s the first person on your received call list?

Hubby.

25. What does the last text message you received say?

Colour. Price range? Hehe. Btw, why kena bg anniv pressie?

26. Do you chew on your straw?

Mind-bloggling this question but No.

27. Do you have curly hair?

A resounding Yes.

28. Where’s the next place you’re going to?

To bed.

29. Who’s the rudest person in your life?

I can't say lest I get a defamation suit. Hehe.

30. What was the last thing you ate?

Classic Pizza.

31. Will you get married in the future?

I'm already hitched.

32. What’s the best movie you’ve seen in the past 2 weeks?

Transformers on DVD! Awesome CGI, y'all!

33. Is there anyone you like right now?

In real life or virtual life? Real life - LOVE mi familia; Virtual - an Avatar named Hugo *winks*

34. When was the last time you did the dishes?

Last night of course.

35. Are you currently depressed?

No!

36. Did you cry today?

A bit of sniffles.

37. Why did you answer and post this?

Because a blogger friend tagged me for it.

38. Tag 5 people who would do this survey.

Simah, Mimin, Nour, CosmicGurl and last but not least, Nina :).

Cartoon taken from here.

Bonne Anniversaire Mon Cheri

Today, three years have passed since we uttered our marriage vows,
Yet, it still feels like we were married yesterday.

I can recall the time when I chased you around the big oak tree on the University Quad in California for having the gall to say that I looked like Rafidah Aziz in my then big-lensed glasses.

And the time I looked forward to your letters from Kuching during the summer break before we went off to our respective colleges.

Also the time when I beamed a huge smile upon seeing you waiting for me at Chicago train station for our weekend outing in the Windy City. Always with a coffee in your hand to kickstart the day.

And the time I shed a few quiet tears in the train ride back to Indiana after a wonderful Fall Break in Evanston.

How about the night we spontaneously lied down on the sidewalk to make snow angels in the dead of Midwest winter?

Not to forget our unforgetabble series of adrenaline rush at Six Flags Great America during your Senior Graduation Week's activities. Love them roller coasters!

And how I like to wind you up for that California Love-infused silat performance on stage.

How about that 'relaxing stroll' wending through the dangerous overpass at Jalan Kuching on our way to a shortlived picnic in Lake Garden. Some passerbys gave us funny looks for lolling about in that ridiculous heat!

And that Penang trip to visit my twin's intended which was fraught with thrills and emotions, in between the rickety KTM service to Butterworth. A group of gangsta monkeys in Botanical Garden was one such highlight.

The trip down south to Lion City was equally memorable, with the whole family traipsing down Orchard Road.

And in the early days, each time you sent me 'home' at Bank Negara's Komuter station following an outing when we were both without cars. Now, in our 30-plus year-old bodies, we wonder how could we have walked all over the places in KL.

And of course, that absurdly long yet most cherished phonecall, discussing our future together, which had bumped me up to Cloud Nine.

Despite (or is it because of?) the initial hiccups and subsequent tiffs, we have managed to forge an inexplicable bond with some legroom to maneuver :)

Happy Anniversary my beloved, my kindred spirit. Thanks for everything that you've done to make all the moments in our lives count.

Let's Go Pinkie!

I've been wanting to write about this particular news for some time but real life caught up with me and I had to settle a few things that have been on the backburner. Perhaps one day when everything is back in order, I will recount snippets of these momentous events.

The article in question was highlighted to me by none other than The Other Half during one of our many driving excursions. To be exact, while stuck in traffic jam coming back home to Ampang from our numerous mall jaunts. Yes, it is true we don't do any kind of sports, but I figure brisk-walking in the long stretches of a mall a form of exercise, no?

Okay, I've digressed.

It was when a driver entered in front of our lane abruptly without signalling that he recalled this piece of news as flagged by Yahoo. In Australia, the New South Wales Roads and Transport Authority ('RTA') launched a new campaign aimed at young drivers who, it claimed, are desensitised to images of gore and mayhem as depicted in the conventional advertisements for road accidents.

The latest TV campaign to encourage drivers to respect speed limits features young women wiggling their little fingers at passing speedsters. The gesture represents a small penis in youth culture but in the ads, even an elderly woman uses the signal. So, too, do other young men who are not in the driver’s seat.

According to a survey, this 'Pinkie' campaign which was launched in June 2007, is proved to be successful at arresting the number of fatal accidents in the densely populated state.

Speeding is a factor in about 40% of road deaths in NSW each year, according to RTA figures.

Despite being hailed a success story by authorities, some quarters complained about 'sexism' and blatant 'misandry' of this unorthodox road safety campaign.

One manly man was evidently not amused by the successful transmission of 'wiggling the little pinkie' gesture by the public, and in an outrage, lobbed a plastic bottle to the female pedestrian who pinkied him. He was fined A$400 for his stupid behaviour.

This Aussie campaign got me thinking as to the ramifications, reactions and results of such an ad blitz if it were to launch in Malaysia. Would it be as effective?

Holding commitment, money and follow-through constant, I wonder if the general public would receive this ad campaign favourably. Or would the veritable Malaysian caring, sopan-santun values nip in the bud its usage and propagation?

Personally, I think wiggling the pinkie is less of a hassle and more convenient than sticking out your middle finger. More importantly, it takes less energy too for lazy people like me! And the message it is sending "Small male unit", to be politically-correct, is loud and clear. Most men, unless if he's a simpleton, would get the drift.

I remember the time when I had trouble shooting my middle finger into the air because I was either too timid to use it or too prissy to exercise my middle digit. I think it was a combination of both. It felt vulgar. Then again, driving in KL for some years sadly inured me to this universal gesticulation. If you can't beat them, join them. However, let me qualify that I only utilise it in the most appropriate, temper-inducing cases. Appropriate is subjective, and as a woman, making sure you're driving with supportive gears, suitable weapons and brawny people is one such condition.

The introduction of this campaign to Malaysians is also timely considering the recurring cases of fatal road-related accidents, despite the road safety advertisements along the familiar line of bloody scenes as well as the police's endless road operations. Moreover, the pinkie wiggling inference brings to mind the larger-than-life exhaust pipes that are de riguer among the young crowd and other misguided motor enthusiasts. It has been an inside joke among me and my sisters that people - more often than not male - who install and rev up those annoying, noisy contraptions at the back of their poorly souped up vehicles, are overcompensating for something else. A physical sort of shortcoming, if you get what I mean.

As you can see, I am more than ready to embrace this campaign and crook my little finger at such inept drivers!

Let's say this spate of advertisements is properly disseminated to a receptive Malaysian public who are more than eager to exercise their Pinkie right. Would those reckless, errant drivers heed the insinuation portrayed in these ads? I would like to think so. But somehow I think the result would be mix.

In the rural areas and neighbourhood enclaves, some motorcyclists and motorists still drive without a helmet and fastening their seatbelts respectively for that quick trip to the sundry shop or kedai mamak. When one's mindset is fixed and conditioned to an environment, it is difficult to change the way things are.

As for perceptive male urbanites and cultured wannabes, this campaign would immediately hit the very core of their manhood, so to speak. Gangsterism and illegal street racing aside, as long as this campaign gets imprinted on the brains of these youngsters, others not bobbling in that age bracket would have a chance to drive in one piece and peace again.

So, guys and gals, boys and girls, men and women, please don't hesitate to wiggle your pinkie!

J'adore le Ladurée

Someone whom I got to know recently surprised me with this trinket yesterday! The giftbox in lovely shade of purple (a favourite colour - how did you guess?) contains eight sublime, scrumptious macaroons from Ladurée in London!

She who must have remembered my obsession with macaroons from the countless ravings I'd written on this space.

The bite-size macaroons burst with fantastic flavours that evoke an ineffable sense of joy.

To that special and thoughtful someone, thank you so much for making my day. Thanks for the wonderful spot of tea as well. It somewhat alleviated my coughing fit.

Paul's on me next time! :)

Raya Recap 2

We barely made it to the taxi which arrived promptly at 11 a.m., what with my penchant to engage in last-minute clothes-washing, and dishes-cleaning. Also not to be left out, choosing the clothes to bring along for the four-day trip. Should we bring more casual clothes and throw out the traditional ones?

But luckily the taxi waited for us even though he had arrived much earlier than the appointed time. Bless him to be working on the second day of Raya.

His driving on the other hand left a lot to be desired, zigzagging on the open road despite a relatively empty highway. As long as it didn't disturb a sleeping Sadia, we had no reason to complain.

A quick check-in later, we scuttled towards the security checkpoints. After buying some goodies at the duty free kiosks located at the main entrance of the domestic Departure Gates, we wolfed down some Whoppers for lunch at Burger King.

The flight which lasted for 1 hour and 45 minutes seemed longer largely thanks to Sadia who was excited to bits. She kept standing on either one of our laps to play Peekaboo with the two Malay kids sitting infront. Luckily, those tweens didn't mind entertaining her.

Excitement later turned to restlessness as she grew bored of the narrow space and wanted out! Armed with my oft-reliable lactating secret weapon, it soon put matters to right.

My MIL, younger SIL and older SIL's daughter, Zeti picked us up at the airport. MIL was so eager to meet her latest grandkid that she quipped she wouldn't mind if we sent Sadia back first to Kuching after we got back from Delft. The last time she saw Sadia was roughly a year ago when we 'accidentally' came home for Raya.

As wont, the apprehensive Sadia takes some time to warm up to new people. However, when my MIL flashed the pair of shiny bead bracelets worn on her left wrist, she was transfixed and hooked on them until one of the bracelet's strings came undone. All the beads popped out and strewn all over the backseat and the car floor!

Such is a sacrifice to get into Sadia's good books. :)

As soon as we landed at PIL's place, hubby distributed the gifts while I settled the rest of luggage upstairs. When I came down, Sadia already went over to the house next door with MIL where hubby's (late*) grandfather resided with the family of MIL's eldest sister. Somehow, Sadia had warmed up to MIL! That was quick. Probably she remembers MIL's face and the area we were in.

In the course of four days, Sadia was having the time of her life - chasing a rabbit named Snowy, cats and kittens outside the house, running practically non-stop around the coffee tables which rendered MIL and some others speechless, bathing in a big shallow basin and playing (or rather bullying to play) toys with anxious cousins. On the downside however, whenever she immersed herself in all these activities, she rarely ate. She's like a cat on catnip!

At one relative's house, Sadia was in her element again, helping herself to some toys on a corner and encircling the spacious living room. A range of glassware - some of which were Delft Blue - in numerous cabinet displays and a flight of steps leading from the toy area to the living room caused us some concern, but Sadia heeded most of our (and MIL's) command during the short Raya visit.

Since this Kuching trip marks the first time we spent the second day of Raya in Kuching, I have to say that I'd prefer to be in KL instead from the second day onwards. My feeling has nothing to do with the in-laws' treatment of me - far from it, they have always been a bunch of exemplary hosts.

It is just that after the second day, Raya (at least in hubby's family circle) celebration simply died down, without any warning to the uninitiated. And with the second Raya day being spent travelling to Kuching and thereon stuffing our face at my PIL's, we lost a day of congenial house-visiting. The only time we ventured outdoors that day was to buy essential provisions.

So when we went visiting relatives on the third day, people served mostly the ubiquitious Raya cookies and no longer wore their Raya fineries. After the umpteenth house, I couldn't bring myself to see anymore cookies in different flavours, shapes and sizes. Luckily, one cousin bucked the trend at her Open House and served delicious Nasi Beriyani and several lauks, along with Laksa Penang.

On hindsight, it is probably too presumptuous to generalise that festivities tapered out for the whole clan. After all, if it were not for my grandma's Open House on the third day of Raya, we wouldn't be going out anywhere save for hopping to the neighbourhood mall! My husband too confirmed and concurred with my observation of Raya celebration in Kuching. Due to this circumstance, we came to an important agreement that Raya eve and first day of Raya should always be spent in Kuching. On the other hand, we can always fly back to Kuching on the night of first Raya day and spend the second day of Raya thereon. But, we reckon it'd be too exhausting for the little one. :)

Moreover, another reason contributing to the sombre note on which we savoured the Eid holidays was due to the deteriorating health of hubby's grandfather aka MIL's father. The second night we were in Kuching must be the longest for my MIL and her surviving siblings when grandfather took a turn for the worse during which most people thought that was IT. Fortunately, it proved to be a false alarm, albeit a brief one. *Grandfather aka Nenek (In Sarawak, Nenek is used for both male and female grandparents) passed away a week later on Tuesday, October 23rd while we were in PD for a short vacation. We plan to go back next year for the 100-day Kenduri Arwah, God willing.

On a separate macabre note, one incident that would haunt us for some time involved hubby's accidental killing of one of the kittens! We were already in my SIL's car to go to the mall (what else!), and my husband put the car in reverse and suddenly heard the most agonising of sounds. Ekk! was the last squeak from the thin kitten. As the car continued backing up, we dreaded what was waiting for us to see. Then there it was, with its head plonked down around a splat of blood. Hubby was too distraught to take a closer look that we resumed driving away. Poor kitty, Sadia had only played with it a few hours before. Thanks to my FIL for burying the kitten.

On coming back to KL, I experienced a personal sort of calamity which bogged me down for a few woeful days. Oh well, que sera sera. Things happen for a reason.

Soon after that, the beach getaway to Port Dickson ('PD') recharged my battery and so did the Ikan Bakar ('Grilled Fish') and other seafood we bought at Pengkalan Pernu/Umbai in Malacca. And a heap of thank-yous go to Rizal for filling up our tummies shortly before we departed for PD at the conjoined Open House held at his parents' in Ampang. I especially love your Death By Chocolate cake! Do you take orders? :)

On top of other Open Houses we went and the small one that we mustered, Raya 2007 was rather quiet on the whole. A sense of listlessness that pervaded the air seems to describe my inner state, struggling to keep apace with a new kind of life, a more mature role to fill and familiar/familial territories to tread on.

Raya Recap 1

Five days have passed since the month of Syawal left us. In any event, it has been a subdued Eid for this household. I should take that back. Probably it has not been one for Sadia who had been dragged here and there by her harried and dazed parents.

Poor Sadia. Whose sleeping schedule turned haywire because of the Raya house-hopping we yielded to. Whose appetite waned throughout the rushing and bustling.

Yet, amazingly Sadia thoroughly enjoyed herself during this festive time, playing with cousins and her young aunties/uncles, as well as chasing cats around the house compound! (this one took place in Kuching)

Our Raya eve was spent at my parents in Kota Damansara ('KD'), where we came bringing satay, peanut gravy and other accompaniments that were served for both Iftar and Eid the next morning. All the siblings save for my eldest sister were around for the final Iftar get-together. We also helped in some last-minute cleaning before retiring around midnight.

The excited Sadia couldn't bring herself to sleep in the new environment and kept waking up now and then. Unfortunately, she also rose up early in the morning when my brother knocked loudly on the door to rouse us from our sleeping state.

After taking turns showering, hubby left for Eid prayer whilst I tended to Sadia's whims and fancies. She busied herself circling the living room all the while refusing any attempt to feed her and ended up nibbling on some cookie.

My husband returned home from the prayer earlier than the other men in the household - my dad and brother - since he went to the communal surau in the vicinity of Mutiara Damansara enclave, as opposed to the overcrowded neighbourhood surau nearby the KD's house where cars triple-parked and inadvertently caused a spillover jam to the immediate surroundings.

As we waited for the other siblings' - twin sister and younger sister - entourage to arrive from their respective homes also located in KD, we then took turns to eat the delicious Raya spread. By this time however, Sadia had grown tired due to lack of sleep and cried in protest when we donned her with a baju kurung top. She didn't like the material at all. We proceeded to the bedroom to put her down for a nap, and shamelessly fell asleep as well!

One-and-half hour had past by the time we stirred from our beauty sleep, overhearing the clamoring of kids and the familiar sisterly voices. We quickly dressed up in our traditional garbs of baju kebaya and baju melayu respectively, and opted for a non-sleeve top and lounging pants for Sadia. No use arguing with a tyke.

The bersalam-salaman session started thereafter and followed by exchanging the kids' Duit Raya with my siblings. In record time, the house was emptied as we made our way to my grandma's in Kampung Bharu. While my sisters and company went straight to the aforesaid destination, my parents and us took our own little detours.

Every year, my mom would send Raya goodies to the Muslim nurses on duty at her dialysis centre in Subang Jaya. And again this year, she didn't want to disappoint them. Since they couldn't go back or get leave for Raya, that's the least she could offer them.

We, on the other hand, parked our car in KLCC to buy diapers and Sadia's lunch! Yes, KLCC on the first day of Raya. In our respledent, traditional clothes! It reminded me of the (singleton) time when I would come to KLCC with my yet-to-be-married sisters and female cousins for our coffee fixs (or chocolate in the case of caffeine-averse young cousins) on the first day of Raya following an almost complete withdrawal from Starbucks and its ilk. (We usually do this in late afternoon after our respective parents customarily resorted to sleeping all over the floors and beds at my grandma's following a hearty chow-down)

Due to our long detour, by the time we arrived in Kampung Bharu, my parents had already sat eating on the dining table. Also, both my uncle's family and auntie's family had also left for their in-laws and relative's in Seremban and Kajang respectively. :)

After savouring the delectable feast at my grandma's consisting of all the food from her children, hers and then some, we decided to take a breather back in Ampang. Most of the people had already either assumed the reclining position or entertained their tummy somersaults due to a shock to the system following a month of fasting. Hehe.

Coupled with sleep deprivation, Sadia was getting edgier with the cramped space that we took it as a signal to go home. In true fashion, we also joined her in the late afternoon kip and the ensuing heavy rain relieved us from the hitherto blistering heat. We woke up later than expected but turned out, everyone else were more or less late for the next venue owing to the pouring rain.

Some people already detained in Kampung Bharu due to the pelting rain had skipped the next open house on the agenda - my late grandauntie's place in Kampung Pandan - in order to help moving some furniture in case the rain flooded the first floor of the house.

Auntie Mi's specialty was Laksa Penang which was downed with gusto by all. I, for one, love her specially marinated fried chicken. (I'm a sucker for chicken dishes!) A foolish ghoulish Malay movie was playing, much to the delight of the young, anxious children present. Rain continued unabated by the time we left for the next house.

The rest of the people who couldn't make it to Kampung Pandan rendezvoused with us in Kajang, the late granduncle's place and the last house of the day at which we congregated for Maghrib prayers and dined on the Kajang household's specialties, one of which is the Satay Goreng.

Before adjourning en masse for our respective homes, the married adults distributed angpows with one another. Many thanks go to my enterprising aunt who willingly asked for a head count of children for each household that we visited!

In Ampang that night, we postponed packing for our Kuching-bound flight for the cosy bed had beckoned us to lie on it instead. We were beyond bushed. After all, with the flight at 2 p.m. surely there would be ample time to pack in the morning. Alas, we always forget the lessons of last-minute packing....

Deepavalli (Dis)Gorge

Addendum: This post is by no means an attempt to question a person's innate ability to handle a child. The lack of courtesy and politeness was more glaring than anything else.

Late afternoon on Deepavalli day, we were at my grandma's to celebrate three birthday of my young cousins - Nani who turned 18, Mimah 14 and Ameir 15. By the by, I forgot if I'd ever divulged that I ever that I, together with my twin and eldest sis, are the oldest cousins on the maternal side? For this teatime gathering, my two uncles invited their cousins, some of whom came all the way from Johor Bahru!

Two nights before that, we were in Isetan KLCC shopping for their birthday gifts during which my husband experienced a strange encounter in the toy section of Isetan.

While he handled Sadia there, I walked about scouring for suitable tops for my spring chicken-like, teenage cousins. Sadia was fiddling with the colourful, vibrant and interactive toys, when another boy came by with two able-bodied adults, who were enrapt in their conversation and left the boy to his own devices. Suddenly, the boy complained that he wasn't feeling so good and wanted to throw up. The two people continued confabulating and ignored the boy's repeated pleas for intervention.

And hurl he did! In copious amount close to where Sadia and hubby stood! Before hubby whisked Sadia away lest she would follow suit in regurgitating, he passed a small case of babywipes to the lady.

The lady responded in the oddest manner: "No, no, I am not the mother." The tone was emphatic. And no word of thanks was offered in turn.

What the heck??? Was she trying to reassure the man whom was present hat the boy was not hers? What gives?!

That was not the kind of reply you would expect after handing over your treasured ration of wet tissues to a total stranger. What does an unconditional gesture to help a sick boy has anything to do with her being a mother? It looks like either one of them was in charge of the boy at that point in time. So be responsible and clean up the mess! If you don't want to be accountable for the boy, don't be a temporary guardian in the first place! She was seen frantically calling someone up on the phone shortly thereafter.

My husband recounted the story after I joined them at the kiddies section. As we walked out of Isetan, I saw the lady again with her extended family (I'm sure they had come to the rescue) and she shot me a surly look.

"You're welcome" came to my lips but I don't think she speak human.

Candle-blowing and singing session

Mom with her cousin, Auntie Mi

Singing Re-take

Carrot Cake for Ameir & Chocolate Cake for Mimah and Nani

Shy niece, Piya with fiesty niece, Alya

Alya with affable brother Zaris

The one who always like to dress up ANY time of day, Elisa

Breakfast At San Francisco Coffee

On this lazy Sunday morning, we drove to KLCC to relive our weekend ritual of eating brekkie in San Francisco Coffee Cafe. How sublime it was to dig into my favourite onion bagel with cream cheese!
My husband on the other hand had the coddled egg set (as shown in photo). Both our sets came with a generous portion of coffee. If you'd like a change of pace or a relaxing diversion, I highly recommend having breakfast here. Great ambience, robust coffee, friendly staff and efficient service all contribute to a comfortable casual dining experience. (Note: This post marks the second installation of blogging from my phone. The first one being Macarons at Bakerzin.)

Beauty is Skin Deep

I rarely don make-up. It's not that I detest putting on make-up. I just don't have the time to wear any nowadays. Or rather, I don't make the time to put any on.

Truth be told, I have to admit I had only warmed up to make-up during junior year in COLLEGE. Yeah, you got (and read) that right. I am a late bloomer. A tomboy - well, not really - just a dishevelled mop of hair who pooh-poohed the facetious quality of cosmetic products.

And applying lipstick was my mode of make-up back then. Nothing more, nothing less.

It was only after graduating and starting work that I got interested in other forms of make-up. Lipliner, lip gloss, and blusher. The latter however turned out to be, time and again, a source of pimples for me, which I gladly and vehemently tossed in the bin.

But I stopped short of applying any eye make-up. My twin sister, on the other hand, is quite hands-on about eye make-up. Eye-shadow she dabbed on like a pro. Three years back and post-engagement, I began experimenting with eye make-up, specifically eyeliner. After marriage, I remember my younger sister commented that she was impressed that I managed to deftly tweak the liner on my upper lids. Those were the days.

This cosmetic walk down memory lane was jogged by this particular column which pokes fun at Zac Efron's (of High School Musical and Hairspray fame) love of 'mancake' and 'guyliner' and questions the market durability of men's line of 'make-up', or as it is euphemistically known, 'enhancement'.

While the rest of the world looks set to embrace the idea of 'enhancing' a man's look, acceptance and enthusiasm Stateside are falling behind.

...the culture that gave birth to the rugged masculine ideal of the Marlboro Man may not be ready to reach for the blush brush just yet. A GQ survey in 2005 reported that "92 percent of men would not wear makeup even if it guaranteed them a more fulfilling sex life." U.S. sales figures seem to confirm the ongoing resistance to men's makeup...

Surprisingly, in this Metrosexual day and age, men are generally still uncertain and downright embarassed about applying mancake foundation and other 'enhancement' to cover their blemishes and spruce up their looks respectively. Probably, this indecisiveness is rightly so, as men try to preserve their overt masculinity in the face of insurmountable societal pressure to fit the well-groomed mould.

The genius of the metrosexual concept was that the term divorced men's grooming and primping habits from homosexuality: A metrosexual man could feel secure in his heterosexuality even as he spread his legs to get a bikini wax. Makeup seems to have a harder time avoiding direct associations to gayness: The term "men's makeup" conjures Boy George and drag queens rather than Brad Pitt or Tony Blair dabbing on powder to conceal dark circles.

Ironically enough, in the Islamic tradition, applying kohl around the eyelids has been part of men's grooming set for several centuries. Even our Prophet Muhammad (p.b.u.h.) brought a kohl jar, amongst others, when he travelled. Middle Eastern men have been putting on kohl for years. So when Fall Out Boy's frontman, Pete Wentz made the headlines for his so-called radical eyelined image, I was not wholly impressed. Stale news.

(Note: Different schools of thought draw the distinction on the permissibility of kohl as opposed to modern concoction of eyeliner, or in this case, guyliner)

Personally, I mind the least bit men with kohl applied on their eyelids but I draw the line at dabbing on foundation. It is TOO vain and effeminate even for my unconventional taste.

For the future, I believe the market for men's 'enhancement' is set to roll big monies for cosmetics companies willing to play by the hidden rules - 'concealing' the obvious emasculating attributes of make-up through a successful brand management of exclusive 'manly' products.

As male's gender identity continues to evolve, so would the range of aesthethic items for men. In the mean time, you can bet young, nubile fans and movie producers will make a beeline for the likes of Zac Efron.

As for moi, it's nice to sit back and watch men getting the pressure of looking the part for a change!

Photo taken from here
Cartoon taken from here

I Give You My Love

What is love
Baby, don't hurt me
Don't hurt me no more

What if love is quantifiable?

I mean, what if there is a device, a contraption, a thingamajig that one could use to measure love in all its glory? The love that a beloved feels for you. Wouldn't that be awesome?

It might be a needle that you prick into your blood vein, a headgear you wear to monitor brain activity or a blood sugar test to ascertain some arcane chemical reaction when you are in love. Wouldn't it be neat?

I don't know about you, but this nifty contrivance would provide succor to those in dire need of some mediation, revelation or a bit of nudge in the right direction as far as romantic involvement is concerned.

A word of caution is however advised. Attesting to all gradations and phases of love - dating, engagement, cohabitation, marriage - this invention might work for or against you.

For those in a marriage, it could be used as an indicator of a successful union, or conversely, as a warning to a partner lest the other might be straying off. As such, in its pessimistic form, the device could serve as an acid test for that reprehensible and ignominious trait - womanising, cheating, philandering, the whole shebang. Essentially (or perhaps theoretically), it will ward off and nip in the bud infidelity, or thoughts of committing infidelity.

Yet, like any other contraptions that come to pass, this one is undoubtedly not without its hitches. Or rather, a host of circumstances prevent it from becoming effective and therefore from rendering it foolproof.

In the first place, love goes through a cycle. You can never be expected to feel enamoured ALL the time. There will be times when you feel angry at your partner or spouse for uttering hurtful words, imaginable or otherwise, and wish him or her to be out of your sight. Surely, the whatchamacallit might register a low score, at that particular moment in time, for your love towards that person. That would be griveous and misleading indeed.

And how about jealousy? Is that a signal of love or an abomination of love? To which angle would it venture on the Love Scale? Again, the readings might get screwy and misinterpreted by the ones affected, either to their detriment or to their folly.

On the flip side, obsession which is, more often than not, an unhealthy form of love can shoot up in measurement, if certain standards/disclaimers/qualifications fail to be drawn up at the outset. A slew of these outliers prove to be disadvantageous to the device's widespread use and acceptance.

Alas, the practicality of such a thingamabob seems elusive at best, and complicated at worst. What then should we count on (pun intended)? Perhaps when it comes to matters of the heart, there is no such thing as a cookie-cutter, simplistic approach to resolving relationship woes.

Marriages, the most sacred and beautiful of institutions, are full of ups and downs, have its peaks and troughs, and the occasional bump on the road. Naturally, you are not going to experience that gooey-marshmallowey love 24/7. Unless of course you are screwy. There are times when you have to wade through the difficult period, pick up the broken pieces and other clichéd sayings.

Although you no longer feel that initial, euphoric high of love in its heyday of courtship and honeymoon years, the love that you've sown together all those years will be there, like an underbrush, latent yet powerful, giving that immeasurable support to the Marriage tree that the two of you have built from the ground up!

Love develops, grows, and eventually plateaus. A litany of I-Love-Yous might confound the skeptics and melt the die-hard romantics. For the realists however, the three words are fine and dandy but a diminutive gesture of love goes even a long way.


Comic is taken from here
Note: While studying in the States, Saturday Night Live (SNL) had become a weekend fixture for me. The above video is one of memorable skits from the show.

The Hand that Rocks the Cradle...errr, I mean, The Bed

I came across this article towards the end of last week and quickly heaved a sigh of relief.

The first thing that came to mind was "Finally!"

In the Health section of New York Times, the column elucidates that co-sleeping - the term used for young children sleeping with their parents - is actually quite prevalent in the Western world than what was priorly reported. This finding arose from the fact that parents are not completely truthful about their children's sleeping habits, choosing to inform only the place where these kids start off the night - in their bed - but not where they likely to end up in the morning - their parents' bed.

Many parents are “closet co-sleepers,” fearful of disapproval if anyone finds out, notes James J. McKenna, professor of anthropology and director of the Mother-Baby Behavioral Sleep Laboratory at the University of Notre Dame.

“They’re tired of being censured or criticized,” Dr. McKenna said. “It’s not just that their babies are being judged negatively for not being a good baby compared to the baby who sleeps by himself, but they’re being judged badly for having these babies and being needy.”

The negative perception attached to co-sleeping discourages, and even hinders concerned, well-meaning parents from revealing the whole truth, and nothing but the truth with respect to the sleeping arrangement in their households. They are afraid of being branded as incompetent caregivers for failing to follow the pediatrician's/medical experts' advice.

In the past, I have heard conflicting views about co-sleeping but the majority of them consider this practice to be counterproductive on the baby's health and/or development of healthy sleeping habits. While I agree that babies in general must learn to fall asleep on their own without the aid of soothers or nursing, I can't see the immediate, strong correlation between co-sleeping and raising a needy child. I believe every child has his or her own needy moments, regardless of what their parents claim to the contrary. Likewise, caring mothers are not exempt from experiencing to some degree a separation anxiety from their child in the different stages of their lives. As my take on an age-old adage clearly advocates: "To err is human, to be needy is to be maternal" :)

After Sadia's birth, I was mostly bedbound for the traditional 40-day postnatal confinement at my parents' house. So naturally my bambino lied on the bed with me for breastfeeding and cuddling purposes. The truth of the matter is we chose not to purchase a babycot because we're leaving for the Netherlands in the following four months after the baby's arrival. Or so we thought.

Thus, buying a mammoth-size crib which we would only be using for that brief timeframe seemed unpractical, nor was it financially prudent. Instead, we invested in a small, orthopedically-enhanced baby mattress and pillow which have become Sadia's staple everywhere we travel. Even to Gay Paree, her miniature sleeping set shared a place in our plush French provincial bed.

Much to our dismay, we only found out the postponement of hubby's Masters programme in early June, close to the planned departure date. By that time, it was too late to buy the proverbial babycot which I truly coveted.

In early September when we left for the Netherlands, we became so used with this type of sleeping arrangement that we really didn't think twice about getting a babycot. Also, the university-run apartment came equipped with a baby playpen which could double up as a sleeping place for Sadia. However, that thought proved to be only wishful thinking.

After a traumatic episode of Sadia falling off the bed in December 2006, I turned more protective and insistent on having her by my side than ever. Camping upstairs with minimal lighting to surf the Net and write my blog alongside a snoring Sadia while hubby worked on his thesis downstairs sums up our nightly routine for the most parts of our Dutch sojourn.

Now that we are back home for good, the cumbersome task of teaching Sadia to sleep in her own bed figures largely in our tiny universe. The longer and bigger she gets, the more pressing and imminent the move is. Granted, a gamut of issues run in our heads, from the placement, to the patterns and to the materials. Yet, the paramount of which is actually convincing Sadia to lie down and stay in bed for the whole duration of the night!

I know it'd be next to impossible for the time being, particularly when she has yet to be weaned off and is adapting to life in Malaysia. It's one thing to be uprooted from Delft and it's another to move to a different bedpost. Slowly does it...

Due to these circumstances, for the timebeing, I'm not complaining....well that much. As the writer succinctly ended her article,

“I can tell you with certainty,” he (her pediatrician) says, “that one day you will wake up, and she won’t be there.”

Sooner or later, Sadia will grow up, gladly move to her own bed, have sleepovers at her friends' place, go to college and finally fly the coop after getting married! So no need to fuss so much about what the 'medical community' in the West order you to do. They are not living under your roof!

Savouring (and enduring) this growing-up years encapsulates the motivation I hold in parenting my kid(s). True, she can be handful at times, but if my eldest sister and mother who each have five children can do it, mine should be a cinch! ;)