i'm old... *sigh*

Sometimes I do groceries during lunch hour because there's a grocery store just right behind my office... and I didn't realize how much older I am now until I peeked into my bag.
Organic veggies, healthy cereal, garlic and milk... *gasp*

On the bright side... this cereal that I'm eating - fabulous! It's got a nice and generous portion of raisins and nuts but kinda makes me feel like a cow when I'm eating hahahaha

My first chirimen class ( 始めのちりめんクラス)

I had a lot of fun at my very first chirimen class today at The Japan Foundation, Kuala Lumpur. They organized a chirimen handicraft workshop conducted by Mrs Ama.

We made a flower-shaped accessory pouch.

Had to hand stitch the whole bloody thing from scratch and oh my goodness, it took me almost 2 whole hours to do it!

Chirimen is a kind of Japanese fabric. "Chirimen" is traditional craft with the history from the Edo period (1603-1867). Chirimen(crape) is beautiful silk fabrics with small wrinkles, and it has been loved as a material of a Japanese kimono from the Edo period to the present age. And, the "Chirimen work" which sews up the small remaining cloth of silk crape and makes pouches, animals, dolls, toys, etc. were popular. "Chirimen work" is the handicraft which cultivates the mind and aesthetic sense which esteem a thing, and makes a hand skillful. And it made as one of the culture of a Japanese woman.

The project we did today consists of 3 parts
a) the base
b) the central trumpet
c) the pull strings with flower bud ends

So this is what happened in class :)

These are the materials we worked with. Two large circular pieces of cloth and two smaller ones (not in picture), two rectangular pieces and two pieces of string.

Making the base

Here's the round pieces of cloth. you can see that the one on the right has actually been reinforced and will act as the main piece. These two round pieces will form the base of the flower pouch.

So first you start by hand stitching from that marked line... all the way to the other end and then back. Leave that little "X" area because you'll need an opening to flip this inside out.

When you're done, it should look like this. It looks prettier if you use different colors and patterned cloths to make the base.

Then fold in that little"X" spot and pin it down. You'll want to do an inside stitch so that it doesn't show. Make sure you keep it in a nice circular shape while you sew this up.

It should look something like this.

Making the central trumpet

The next step is to make the central trumpet of the flower. Take the two rectangular cloth pieces and sew in the for corners towards that pencil marking area. It should look like a long tube with two slits at the side.

When you're done stitching, you need to turn it inside out and make both ends meet at both ends. Then you'll see that the part that has no stitches will form a little passage way which will be used for the strings later. You'll want to stitch around that side - give it about 1.5cm in length from the top so that the strings won't go elsewhere.

When you're done with that, do a similar stitching to the bottom of the central trumpet and tuck it inwards so that you can attach it to the base.

Attaching the central trumpet to the base

Attach to the base and sew it in firmly, but not too tight because you don't want to see any snagged cloth.

Then use a pentagon piece to mark the five points which you will pull in and stitch onto the central trumpet.

It should look like this. Stitch it following the earlier line of the central trumpet to "disguise" the marks.

Adding on the strings

Then string the pieces of string in. One will go in the left, come out the right, in the top/bottom and come back out the left forming a "U" shape. Do this for both sides.

Secure both ends of the string with some string and then here you sew on the smaller round pieces to the end. Take the small circles and fold it in half, sew the string ends in firmly and flip it inside out.

It should look like a small flower bud when you're done. As you can see, the strings are hidden inside the flower bud.

Tadaa!!!! and you're done
My first Chirimen flower accessory pouch!

These are the other people in class sewing away. Too bad the JFKL only organizes these stuff once a year... would really love to attend more! :)

The Pisces Employee

The Pisces employee can be a loyal and hard-working, if unconventional, worker. In the right position, they are able to keep their daydreams in check and buckle down on the detail work-giving their all to the boss and corporation whom they feel are worthy of devotion.

On the flip side, there is no image of extreme misery like that of an ill-placed Pisces worker. They will act as though their cubicle were a prison cell as they daydream of their own business or next vacation. Unhappy Pisces workers usually won't stick around too long. Often Pisceans will drift from one job to another looking for that ideal environment to which they will be able to commit and feel a sense of purpose. And if things are going in a bad direction at the office, Pisces will be the first to sense it. They'd rather pick up and leave then wait until the problem reaches a head.

Pisces are often misunderstood by their co-workers. Typically timid and introspective, they usually keep their true nature hidden, for fear it wouldn't fit with the corporate culture. What motivates a Pisces employee to not only stick around but also excel? Try compliments. And show them how their work impacts the entire organization. They need to know that what they are doing is worth something on a grander scale. Acceptance of their unconventional organization and planning will be necessary. Just because their sales report isn't in the typical format doesn't mean it is any less effective.

Keep their environment bright and upbeat; and an after-work cocktail wouldn't hurt.

The Best Kind of Love

"The best love is the kind that awakens the soul and makes us reach for more, that plants a fire in our hearts and brings peace to our minds. And that's what you've given me. That's what I'd hoped to give you forever."

~Excerpt from a letter from Noah to Allie, The Notebook (2004)

Embracing 28

Not much. Just the fact that I am old 28. How do I know?

a) We just bought a mattress together yesterday. Queen sized. Oh and a foldable one too - this is for the moms and the occassional friend/family member (which I'm guessing will most probably be mine since he's not too close to his cousins, not the way I am anyways) who will want to come and stay over with us once in a while.

We deliberated on this for quite a bit, hunted around looking for a good price and we found one at the Mattress Factory Outlet in Section 13 and stumbled on a pretty good deal. So we snapped it up.

b) After we got home... I got dinner ready a bit too early and so I went to do gardening. Yes with the soil and the worm compost and the fertilizer and the changing soil and all that nonsense....

c) My Mezzaluna is finally here. PosLaju called up this morning from my doorstep. Thank goodness the puppy was home else I’ll have to go pick it up at the post office later. I am SO excited about it! I’m actually excited about a kitchen knife....

what a way to start a weekend

So yeah I didn't get the job.

So much for hoping the other sucked :P

Oh well... I'm sure there'll be another chance... just need to keep my eyes peeled and be on my toes....

A day in the life of an ordinary Malaysian — By Mariam Mokhtar

DEC 14 — I wake up and retrieve the newspaper lodged in the letter-box. My “Keling paper” has delivered it faithfully, come rain or shine.

I go to the kitchen and make breakfast. Into the toaster goes the bread sent to my home, the previous afternoon, by my “Keling roti”. It has been made by the local bakers, the FBI — Federal Bakery Ipoh — owned by a mamak.

But if I am out for breakfast, it is usually a roti canai at my local Indian’s. Followed by a char koi snack from “auntie”, a Chinese lady.

Halfway through the morning, the sound of a horn alerts me that Ah Fatt, our “grocer on wheels”, has arrived. He brings me fresh vegetables, fish and the usual dried condiments.

Once a month, our local “Keling botol” comes round to collect our empty bottles. Our “Cina paper” too comes to collect the old newspapers.

My neighbour comes round with some pisang grown in her garden. She is Indian, married to a Chinese policeman. I am grateful for his tips on how to keep my house secure. When my ubi kayu harvest is plentiful, I’d go round and return her kind gesture.

I have a gardener. His name is Velu. From the name, you can guess he is Indian. He is much adored by my children. If my son is not in his room, I know where to find him — under the mango tree, in the garden, sharing chapatti, dhall and “tapau” teh tarik with Velu. I told my son off for demolishing Velu’s packed breakfast, but Velu was happy to share his meal. Both were sporting toothless grins — Velu has no teeth and can’t afford dentures. My toddler has just lost his two front teeth.

I’ve no idea what they chat and laugh about. Sometimes not a lot of gardening gets done. But who cares? At least they're happy. When Velu died, my son was distraught. He had been with our family for decades and refused to be pensioned off.

My general practitioner for the usual coughs and colds is Chinese. All women have a gynaecologist — mine is Indian.

And my dentist is Chinese.. These people provided services to my parents in the past, and I simply carried on with them. No complaints. Good service. Reasonable fee.

I did go to a Malay doctor once, but he was more interested in “tackling” my younger sister. I dismissed his lack of professionalism as testosterone driven. He was still a bachelor then.... And on the second visit, years later, he was fishing for information about other members of my family. One personal question might be excusable. But twice is too much of a coincidence. I never did return to him. In my eyes, his professional conduct was compromised by these intrusions. I know I shouldn’t be generalising, but this was my personal experience.When I had to be admitted to hospital, the surgeon who operated on me was Indian. The nurses were either Chinese or Indian.

I once had to use the services of a lawyer — an Indian.

The person who supplies me with stationery is a Chinese woman married to an Indian man. She once supplied my father’s business with his office stationery needs.

When I once had a leaky water tank, the plumber who successfully mended it was an Indian. He now takes care of all the house’s plumbing repairs. He was my parents’ plumber too.When my house needed new electrical wiring, the electrician was a Chinese person. When I needed outside electrical work to be done, the electrician was Indian. Both had provided long-term services to the family.

Before Raya, I would go to my Chinese tailor to make my baju kurung. My hair is cut by a Chinese woman. As before, these people once supplied my mother, all her tailoring and hair-grooming requirements. My father’s barber is an Indian.

Again, before Raya, my mother’s Chinese friends at work would send tins of “love letters”, kueh kapit, for us to enjoy and serve at our open house. And early on Raya day itself, several plates of pie tee would arrive and my father’s Indian colleagues would send a big pot of chicken curry and putu mayam. The dining table groans with our rendang and the contributions from our friends, of all races and religions.

For several decades, until my parents were too old and infirm to receive guests, we would have an open house that was a riot of people sporting various national costumes. A real melting point — a true reflection of Malaysia.

These people once provided my grandparents and my parents essential services. Either that or they were colleagues at work, or friends from their younger days. They, who have grown old alongside my grandparents and parents. And now, people are telling me that these non-Malays, whom I have grown up with and who have remained friends, through thick and thin, are second-class citizens..?

That they do not deserve to be Malaysians? That they are far inferior to me?

So am I to believe that should my neighbour’s husband, a Chinese, make the ultimate sacrifice in the line of duty, that his life is not as valuable as a Malay policeman’s?

Who are these self-serving, self-righteous bigots kidding?

the next fashion editor

Yes. That's my new mantra for these days.... I just applied for a job with a publishing house for fashion mags.

Why?
I'm a trained and qualified journalist doing corporate work... how mundane is that? I wanna go back to my roots. I wanna do something that's interesting. I wanna do girly stuff AND get paid for it.

I know working at a magazine/publishing house is going to be super stressful again but at least I feel, it will be good stress... nice stress... healthy stress... stress that makes me want to get it done and not stress that makes me want to kill myself!

I wanna do photoshoots

I wanna do layouts

I wanna test products!!!

Garrrghhh I want this job so bad!

Positive thinking is negative

Read this in the papers and made me think "Are we all in denial?"

Do we all think SO positively that we deny the truth and reality? Anita whacks the nail right on the head...

Optimism has made the world miserable, says author.

By Anita Singh

The modern “tyranny” of positive thinking is the true cause of the global financial crisis, an American author claims.

The belief that everything will turn out all right in the end if we remain optimistic is “delusional”, says Barbara Ehrenreich.

What began as a 19th-century “quack theory” has become the dominant mode of thinking in America, she says. It influences everything from business decisions to cancer treatment.

Ehrenreich’s book, Smile or Die: How Positive Thinking Fooled America and the World, sets out to demolish the “distinctive American ideology of positive thinking.”

“Delusion is always dangerous and the big example I would give of that is the 2008 financial meltdown. There are many things that fed into that. Many people got way over their heads in debt – ordinary people. And in what frame of mind do you assume large amounts of debt?

“Well, a positive frame of mind. You think that you’re not going to get sick, your car’s not going to break down, you’re not going to lose your job and you’re going to be able to pay it off.

“Mostly, though, I blame the top levels of corporate culture which, by the middle of this decade, were completely in a bubble of mandatory positive thinking.”

Ehrenreich referred to the “cult-like atmosphere of high-fives” at Countrywide, the mortgage lender that became one of the biggest casualties of the crisis.

She said executives who sounded warnings of impending financial disaster at Lehman Brothers were dismissed as “negative” thinkers. “Corporate America has gone into this bubble of denial,” she said.

Ehrenreich began investigating the “positive thinking” industry after she was diagnosed with breast cancer in 2000.

She was dismayed by “the cheerfulness of breast cancer culture”, with its “sappy pink ribbons” and thousands of websites and blogs urging sufferers to see their illness as life-enhancing.

The writer and sociologist challenged the notion that a positive attitude increased chances of survival.

“There is a widespread idea that your immune system will be boosted if you are thinking positively,” she said. “Well, there’s not a whole lot to support that.

“And, more to the point, it’s not clear that the immune system has anything to do with recovery from cancer or with whether you get it.

“When I was diagnosed, what I found was constant exhortations to be positive, to be cheerful, even to embrace the disease as if it were a gift, take me off your Christmas list.”

In the course of her research, Ehrenreich interviewed motivational speakers, a major industry in the United States.

“They are brought in to corporate meetings and the message is, again and again: You can have whatever you want so long as you focus your thoughts on it,” she said. “I think that’s nuts, frankly.

Despite the premise of her book, Ehrenreich said she was not a miserable person. “I am not against having a nice day or smiling at strangers,” she said.

© The Daily Telegraph UK 2010

Feb 28, 2010

Dear Diary

Today I turn 28.

GAARRGGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

But yeah... I turn 28 today.

It feels different this year. Most years I feel miserable, but this year I actually kinda feel alright.

Puppy took me out for a nice dinner at Bangsar. We didn't do the traditional romantic kinda thing because we're not the traditional romantic kinda couple to begin with anyways



We went to this place called "The Daily Grind" in Bangsar which serves gourmet burgers. It was a nice cosy spot with cute decor at Bangsar Village II and they had quite an extensive list of burgers like the traditional beef and chicken patties. They've also got fish, lamb and vegetarian if you want something different.


We opted to share the Down on the farm (above) which is a beef burger served with fresh greens, fries, onion rings and corn cake, and a Lamburghini (below)- lamb burger with grilled and fresh greens with a side of fries.


It was pretty good! Nice juicy patties, cooked medium so the middlest parts were still a bit pinkish and tender. Plus the service there was fantastic. The waiters were VERY courteous and thoughtful. But then again, it's Bangsar.


After that we stopped by Starbucks for a frappucino... and a small little chocolate cake and we walked around Bangsar for a bit. Kinda reminded us of how life was living in Australia (and even though it IS an option, we are still thinking of the Netherlands!)

.
So yeah, it was a pretty nice date...

I had a great birthday hun... thank you....

Love you