munching out

I miss hanging out at Maria's Cafe (Greentown)

Maria's Cafe is run by one of my closest friend's family and I'm telling you... the food is goooooddd.... and the countless hours that Aunty Maria has fed me with good food till I have no choice but to undo the top button of my jeans.... bangers and mash... rib eye... potato and leek soup with the little artsy fartsy thing on top... roast lamb... warm chocolate cake... carrot cake... pastries + afternoon tea ohhh and the list goes on...

I know, I know, you're probably thinking "Yeah it's her friend's place, of course she's promoting it," well you're damn right I am...

You know what makes me like a place? A restaurant to be exact?

Well I'm pretty picky. Especially about restaurants/cafes and fine dining kind of mumbo jumbo. Because there are plenty of places that people go to - to be seen. It's so cool to be seen hanging out at Posh Cafe. I feel so posh now. Ooohhhh.... oh posh schmosh. I can't be bothered. I live to eat and not eat to live... I think people who eat to live are somewhat depressing... and that everyone should be able to... and ALSO want to enjoy what they're eating... rather than just stuffing it down their throats so that they don't feel any hunger pangs... hahaha that's ridiculous... oh god I'm laughing at my own joke now....

I know this restaurant in Ipoh where EVERYBODY loves to go there to be seen schmoozing with poshness.

I've got four words for you people "HAHAHA, you'd think so!"

Every now and then, I"ll get someone who wants to go there just to have a cup of coffee... which by the way is pretty alright.. but then to drive all the way out there at night after a home cooked meal JUST FOR A CUP OF COFFEE... or is it JUST TO BE SEEN? But I guess to some people it matters.... shallow isn't it?

Going out for food means getting what you want out of a great dining experience and I want good food. Period. End of sentence.

You wanna know why? If the food is good, ambiance is cozy, decor is warm and the people are just fantastically well-mannered... voila! You have your perfect dining experience. Well for restaurants/cafes for that matter.

Maria's is the kind of place that I can literally sit there ALL day long... well partly because my friend's mum runs the place but that's besides the point. It's comfy... it's got great food and munchies to fill you up... illy coffee and it's WiFi enabled!!!! Ahhh I'd die for one of those afternoon tea pastries with a nice steaming hot cup of italian coffee right now....

Maria's Cafe recently opened up a second branch in Damansara Perdana... Aunty Maria and Mary are no longer in the Greentown outlet... *boo hoo* but heck... I still go there (not as often as I used to though) for lunch sometimes because to tell you the truth... the food is effing good.

Anyhoo... I'll continue rambling and rambling so I need to stop now... there's a link to the blog on the right column on my page so check it out... better yet... just swing by the cafe and munch... munch till you drop!

changing names

Very often people don't like the names they were given. In fact I know some people who detest their own names.

When I was younger, I didn't like my name... mainly because 8 out of 10 people I meet will never know how to pronounce my name. I mean, if I write it down on a piece of paper and thrust it in your hands and force you to pronounce my name, fine. Earlier this month, I met this girl... who had difficulty pronouncing my name even after I repeated myself three times.... THREE effing TIMES!!!

How hard is it to pronounce Claire? It rhymes with bleh.... or care... or blare.... or where... or chocolate e-clair (okay e-clair a little far fetched but you know what I mean)!

I disliked my name so much, that I contemplated changing it to something... more common when I finally turn 18... like... Elizabeth... or Amy.... or Christine... or maybe even Anne.

Anyways, people have found difficulty in pronouncing my name in the Eastern world not the Western, which reminds me of an article I read in the newsies some time ago about locals who had difficulties with immigrants who had cultural names.

Cultural names are beautiful. Especially when it is painstakingly researched by various members of the family who only wants the best for the newborn child. One of my youngest cousin sister's name was partly chosen by my mother, because she was born on a Wednesday and her Chinese name meant "Coloring of the Dawning Clouds"... so mom named her Wendy.... which of course she doesn't really it but unfortunately has to live with it :P

Unfortunately, when these names come across to the Western world.... they are often misconstrued... mispronounced... misunderstood...

So because of that, the world is slowly ridding itself of meaningful cultural names... and we have more Kevins, Michelles, Jasmines, Andrews, Michaels... you get the picture.

By the way, it's not just non-caucasians who are having this problem. Apparently many Brits who don't like their own names, have switched as well.

Last year, Joel Whittle changed his name. He is now known as Big Crazy Lester (this was taken from Reuters).

You know what? I love my name. I love the fact that my mom took forever to choose which would be the best name for me. I love it that my grandfather painstakingly chose my name over 6-7 choices ever since mom was preggers.

I love it that my name is one of a kind.

I just don't really like sharing it with people because it takes FOREVER to explain my name to them :P

growing old sucks

Yeah you heard me right. Growing old sucks, big time.

I just turned 26 a couple of days ago and I'm telling you... the older you get the more you think. I remember turning 16... gosh was I happy. "Yay, I'm older!!!Yay I'm no longer a kid!!! Yay, I have more responsibilities!!!"

Now, it's "Blehhh, I'm older.... I have more responsibilities.... and more crap to deal with..."

So for CNY, I did spend it with McStupid. We had a nice 24hours together. From 8.30am on the 3rd day of CNY all the way till 8-ish in the morning on the 4th day of CNY. Then... lucky for me, as I was lying in bed watching him sleep at about 6 in the morning, I realized three things.

a) He's not as cute as I remembered him to be.... when I saw him that morning, I had lost the whole 'pounding heart, loss of breath, oh my effing lord he's so bloody cute... zilch. It was just 'Hey, it's McStupid... gee that shirt is red...'

b) He's almost 30... well he's turning 30 next year and he doesn't bloody have any ambition let alone a career. All he wants to do is have fun. I mean, yeah I want to have fun too but I'm not going to just work to have fun. Maybe it's the whole pressure from society - get a job, climb the career ladder, be matured kinda shit. Maybe 8 years ago, I would do it... the whole work just for money so that I can go enjoy life and all. I guess I really am getting old.

c) He's not THE ONE. I thought he was. Or at least I was desperate enough to want to believe that he was. He came at the right timing. I had a new job, I had new friends, I had everything new... and he popped into my life. But I finally learnt that he's not. He's nowhere near being THE ONE.

So as I left (yeah I know this sounds drama-mama) but when I said "Anata, sayonara..." I really felt that I was really saying good bye to him, because at that point, I realized that it doesn't matter to me anymore if I see him again or not. I realized that I've had my fun and that it's over.
He was a season. Can't change that fact that he broke my heart. But I thank him for that. In fact, I thank all broken relationships for broken hearts because it is what's broken which I have mended makes me who I am. The person I am now... has been broken, picked up, dusted off and glued back together. Well, replaced, if not glued :P

Winds have changed. Times have changed. He has changed and so have I. It's over... it's soooo over. Thank god for that!

But heck... it was a shit load of fun while it lasted ;)