On Recipies

NOTE TO ALL FUTURE WANNABE COOKS:

DONT try to add extra mayonaise into your future egg sandwiches thinking it would help make it yummy-ier.
IT WONT.
Will only give you more clogged arteries, a real grumpy tummy, and zero progress on your neoplasia notes.

Sigh... 3 weeks to sum2 and i cant even make a decent dinner without poisoning myself with mayo.
*desperately looks to the heavens*




ps: A CAUSE FOR CELEBRATION! A friend has finally recovered from a serious injury. I know he has been in alot of pain and discomfort the past months and am more than happy that things are fine now. CONGRATS! You made it through, but please remember to always always take care... Am happy! =)

With love, Suyin.

Little one,
why do tears stain your pillow at night? Admiring the raindrops falling outside your window, you wish everything could be as simple again. That everything could be washed anew by Mother Nature’s gentle tears.

Little one,
why do you laugh so hard? Smile so wide? Half hoping the happy noises would drive away the darkness of things you no longer want to dwell in. A great mask to fool the world, but it isn’t the truth.

Little one,
why do you love looking to the skies? Trying to convince yourself that there must be more to life than ‘This’. That your circumstances are only temporary, and that in the vast possibilities of life, things will change. Sooner or later.

Little one,
why are you so afraid of being without company? Fearing that the silence and solitude would lead you to acknowledging, to thinking, and to feeling the things you’ve been so good at running away from.

Little one, why do you still…
Fear solitude?
Look to the heavens?
Laugh so hard?
Smile so wide?
Tear-stain your pillow?

It’s tiring.
So very tiring to still wish, hope and cry over something you were not meant to have. Your eyes show, your voice tells. You’ve been mourning silently for too long. But no matter how much your Little Heart breaks, there are just somethings we cannot change.

I don’t know why it has to hurt so much, or if the pain and regret will ever heal.

But I’m writing this for you,
So you don’t have to stain your pillow tonight.
So you can once again laugh and smile not because you have to, but because you want to.
So you can look to up, and instead of surrendering to the vastness of the skies, see a definite wonderful future for yourself.
I’m writing this for you, so you won’t have to be afraid of being alone, because you never are.

With love,
Suyin.

SU Regional Conference.

No, SU doesnt stand for 'Subang Utama' which was my ex-high school.

SUstands for Scripture Union. And I attended the conference during our 2month long holiday (oh..what i would give for another long holiday). Interesting highlights from the trip

1. It was in SARAWAK!

2. Learnt that the camwhoring disorder is infact a global problem, not only confined to m'sia, but has reached the shores of Japan, Korea, Vietnam, and Myanmar ( nice to know you arent alone aint it?) =p

3. Met up with some old friends from the last conference.

4. Saw great unity in doing the work of God

5. Made and reinforced great friendships. =)

ADDED BONUS: met a primary school friend at the airport on the way home. Bizzare!

SO.. let the pictures do the talking!

Dinner when we arrived on the 1st night. Cant diffentiate them? dont worry, i had problems too, Malaysians (batik), Japanese (err..japanese baju..duh?) , Koreans ( the super young boys who look like they should still be at home, not half way around the world in a strange ulu state *sayang *)

Ahh...japanese girls, guys eat your hearts out!

From left: ME (of course), HANNAH (a terlampau cute and sweet girl, she can talk man! the 1hour trip frm the hotel to Water Front? non stop! that is why Suyin loves HANNAH!), EUNICE CHU (the cruel woman who left me to further her studies in UK. *angry stares in the general direction of UK)

Socute you think ONE picture enough redy meh? DeNISE, Hannah, EuNICE, JaNICE. Anybody sees the link here? If you do, tell me, buy you sweet.

And here folks, is a genuine-state of the art-ulu kampung boy. A product of Kuching itself! They call him Ray. Haha..meet the poor boy a few years back at the last conference and ever since then, he's gotten used to me calling him Kampong Boy. Aww... =p

More of us in our National Costumes at the Youth Rally. See the lady in the left with the white costume? She is a Korean national, but serves as a missionary in Krgyztan( forgot the spelling), so thats the national costume of Krgyz, cool rite? The horizontal monkey in the front is Mitzuo from japan, but we call him Captain cos it's easier to remember. Really whacky guy! AND he was the only GUY in the whole bunch of girls who came from Japan so you can imagine all the lime light he was getting =P

This is Rev. Tadashii. I love love love this man. Gentle, soft spoken and wise, he just opens up so easily to people you cant help but feel that he's your long lost grandpa. PLUS he can speak in 5 languges: Jap, english, BM, mandrin and canton.
O_o"

*denise is put to shame*








Now, why the weird 'thumbs up' sign you ask? This is the 'Chin Chia Ho' Uncle! it means
'It's So Good' in hokkien, more specifically,
"It's So Good to Praise the Lord" heard of that song?
REally cute especially with the actions.

HEY! and the pretty lady in the front here is Karuna from Myanmar!
She told me a Myanmar joke, tried typing it out, but again, problems with spelling ....so nvm...

*Chin Chia Ho Uncle in action!!*

Special performance all the way from Singapore *rwoar*

And the he/she was good! glass-shattering good!













Girls chilling (translation: sharing and translating jokes) after a long day of Talks.

M'sia lost the jokes maratho. Myanmar won.
I'm sorry I couldnt serve my country better.
*bows in defeat*

Backrow frm left: Forgot-her-name, Karuna, Nobue (japan), Forgot-her-name.
Front row: The NiSe-s!







Last night..... *sob*

Backrow from left: Forgot-his-name, Half-of-Sze Wei, Josh( the speaker)

Frontrow frm left: Abigail (S'wak), Nobue and Ayako (japan), Magnificent (malaysia), Eunice (should be M'sia but now betraying us in UK)

MISS YOU HUMANS LIKE MAD!!!!






HeEeEeee.... proving my average height-ness.

Nobue, anatawa short lar!!








**Our Winter Sonata moment**

Wah liao Eunice Chu, I know you dont read my blog but faster come back lar! UK so fun meh? I heard Ang Mo's dont bathe wan leh.

COME BACK NOW.

Ok, last picture to end the post. Conclusion?

Loved the people, loved the fellowship, loved the rejuvenation.

Wanna wanna wanna see you people real soon!

Ps: the last pic was taken at the Water Front. It's kinda small, but can you spot something different about the pic?

Pps: Usefull japanese vocab Denise learnt frm the trip, never leave for japan without it:

* anata butac: you are a wild boar

*anata sayru: you are a monyet

*anata okashii: you are unwell in the head (crazy)

*nandeyane: you are so funny (directed to ME of course)

Top 12 prescriptions for Whensomebodypissesyouoff-alitis

1.Fairy dust
2.The music played before Disney movies or lighthearted-touching-comedies.
3.The music played after Disney movies or lighthearted-touching-comedies.
4.Quietness
5.Paintings
6.Cross-stitching
7.Kids in their kindergarten uniforms
8.Jungle trekking
9.Late night mamaks
10.Hymns.
11.Writing nonsense.
12.Warm pancakes. (and don’t try to go easy on the butter or honey, your upset, eat as much as you want dammit!)

(adapted with permission from ‘’Alternative Healing for WSP-YO’’ by Dr. Suyin)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Top 8 prescriptions for Sometimeslovesongssuck-disorder

1.Sing them as off key as you can manage.
2.Make fun and change the lyrics.
3.Tell your totally uninterested friend or family member how ridiculous the lyrics are.
( I mean come on, if It’s Only Words that he has to offer her, not in a million years will he take her heart away right?right? take away her eardrums maybe.)
4. Write your own sad, dark song about lizards and monkey brain.
5. Sing the classifications of neoplasms to the tune of the song you hate.
6. Use some weird computer programme your ulu kampung johor friend taught you to fast forward (chipmunk style) or slow it down (Arnold Swatch-se-nigga style).
7. Turn off the radio/laptop/ipod/TV/MP3.
8.Go live in a cave.

(adapted with permission from “Dignity in Dealing with SLS” by Prof. Suyin)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
**SAY NO/tidak/tak nak/pu yao/em ngoi/ be sai TO PLAGIRISM!**

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

No Title

The laziness
The complaining and whining
The stares
The shouting
The hissing words

What do you call it
When its very presence makes you turn unrecognizable

What do you call it
When the sounds of its breathing makes your cringe with bitterness

What do you call it
When its sarcastic voice it enough to erase any moment of your joy, pride or sense of achievement?

What do you call it
When its hypocritical touch sends blackness into you

W hat do you call it
When the insults, false accusations, and torture is more than you can bare?

You don’t call it abuse, because you never knew better than all this to even dare to want more
You don’t call it hate, because there isn’t anybody to put the blame on

You call it death.
Death by forgetting.

Corny-sappy-pre-teen-songs

Now, imagine with me for a minute, what would a matured 19year old say to the Disney movie "High School Musical" and to a song like this?

When There Was Me And You.

It's funny when you find yourself

Looking from the outside

I'm standing here when all I want

Is to be over there

Why did I let myself believe

Miracles could happen

Cause now i have to pretend

That i dont really care

I thought you were my fairytale

A dream when when I'm not sleeping

A wish upon a star

Thats coming true

But everybody else could tell

That I confused my feelings with the truts

When there was me and you

I swore I knew the melody

That I heard you singing

And when you smiled

You made me feel

Like I could sing along

But then you went and changed the words

Now my heart is empty

I'm only left with used-to-be's

And once upon a song

Now I know your not my fairytale

And dreams are meant for sleeping

And wishes on a star

Just don't come true

Cause no even I can tell

That I confused my feelings with the truth

Because I liked the view

When there was me and you

I can't believe that I could be so blind

It's like you were floating

While I was falling

And I didn't mind

Cause I liked the view

Thought you felt it too

When there was me and you

Well, they would say..... "BUH HAMBUG!"

But now imagine with me instead, what a cool-happening-super hip 19 year old would do when she see's such a movie?

Well, she would watch it 6times

1.with her sisters when it was 1st showed on disney channel 2 weeks before the semester1 exams.

2. again with her sisters for the sing-along version

3.yet again the sisters, only this time the DANCE-along version ( o_O i know,these disney fellows are really creative huh?)

4. with uni freinds at the start of raya holidays

5. with the same uni friends at the same session when they rewinded it to hear each song again

6 again with the SAME uni friends in the SAME sitting when they rewinded it yet again.

She would also memorise the lyrics and sing it at the ktm station while waiting for the train that never came, in the lift, while walking from one apartment block to another, while waiting for lunch at the pool, irritating everybody and anybody in her path.

(she would also have a larger tendency of singing out of pitch around jb kampung girls with surnames Low, just for the fun of it =p)

*prayed for you today. Was that too selfish of me?*

International Health Organizations.

So... I did finish my PBL.... eventually.
Yup, i finished it alright, at 10.05am THIS ,morning, and presented it TODAY *pats self on back*

BUT... Check out what happened as I was looking for info in the computer lab yesterday with Angelene.

Denise: Angie ah, I hate PBL lar, please help me?

Angie: ok =)

Denise: Yay! ok... what is an example of an international HEALTH organization other than WHO?

Angie: NECF!!!!! (translation: National Evangelistic Christian Fellowship)

Denise: Err... Not spiritual health lar, just normal health can adi.

Angie: Ok not NECF...WWF! (translation: World Wildlife Federation)

Denise: Thats for animals la! *doink*

Angie: Ohh....ah... i know redy! National Geography!! *peace*

Denise: o_O''

FINALLY.

Finally!!!!!!!

A post about the Ramadan Bazzar and Postponed Lattern Celebration.
Well, you see, after our summative1, and after the 2hour PBL that just had to follow it (see the need for my last post) we (Geoff, Angie,Pei,Shan, and Denise The MAgnificent) went for a Ramdan Bazzar in Bangsar.

After downing enough FOOD to feed a third world country we marched into the park oppsite Pei's house.

Our Mission : To be the most romantic group of singles in the world and created our own 'Tian Tang'.

Our strategy : Use 26 boxes of candels and about a dozen lantterns to light up the whole hut ( including the slide)

The outcome: Bee-you-tifoll! Seriously, too nice lar. But i think we did it to the expense of the lil kids. Angie had us all feeling gulity when she made us imagine how the lil tikes wouldnt be able to play there anymore because of the layers of wax we left behind. So how now? We bergotong-royong and using onlt our bare hands and some sticks scraped wax off the whole castle. memang
rakyat contoh la.

(translation for the many Bananas out there. Tian Tang means Heaven. like from Guang Liang's new song? like please go learn some mandrin and be a usefull chinese people like me? shame on you dont know your mother tongue! =P )

Please refer LiShan's blog here for the complete set of pictures. She's my secretary you see? She does all the dirty, unimportant work for me.
(translation: Im too lazy, and she has nothing to do, so use her post lar! Both parties satisfied =))

I only have ONE qustion for you.

Question: Can quit PBL kah???

I mean, I understand the importance of Problem Based Learning in training oneself to source out information and thus open the way for lifelong learning. The 8 imu outcomes and all that.
And i have a group of very fun, helpfull and cool PBL-ers

but i NEED to watch 'World Trade Centre'
i NEED to start on neoplasm, community med and parasites (nasty lil buggers)
i NEED to kepo about everybody else's life
i NEED to watch 'The Devil Wears Prada' (hope i can understand the jargons tho...)
i NEED to clean my room fan it has a 6month old furry dust coat.
i NEED to eat some good steamboat

See? I'm such a busy woman with so many things to accomplish with my life. Time is money, money is precious. So why waste more than 4 hours weekly on mere PBL???

......sigh........

Answer: Go prepare PBL now lor...

zzZZ...

Dreams.

What are dreams?

Are they actually supposed to mean anything?

What are they supposed to tell you about yourself or about your environment?

Are they really that magical place between conscious and unconsciousness visited by fairies and shooting stars?

Are they where your deepest desires or greatest fears are expressed?

Or could they be a mental phenomenon occurring during REM sleep in which images, emotions, and thoughts are experienced with a sense of reality? (From Baby-Dorland’s medical dictionary)

Or are they just a load of crap?

In a long time, I hadn't had a real dream where I could actually remember the sequence and events. (maybe cos when i crash, i really crash like a log, or a pig if you just need to insult me further =p)

But this weekend was a major dream-quota overload. By that I mean I had 2 rather lengthy and draining dreams.

Although they were very different in nature, involving 2 very different people, they both had the identical effect on me: A deep tugging pain in my heart.

The first is one of my greatest fears, I might have to face it one day, but I know I will never be ready for it.
The second is one of the things I still wish for every night before I sleep but will never let myself have.

Maybe should just sleep less.

No Title 1.

The number displayed on her mobile phone wasn’t one she could recognize as local. She answered it, a little irritated because it was disturbing her very limited and much needed lunch break time, doctors in the rural health centers didn’t get much alone time, what more for her, a junior houseman. Even the nurses had more time to breath compared to the young exhausted trainee, no more than 24years old. But she has never been one to complain, she loved her job, she loved the fact that she was using her life to help others in a meaningful way, and maybe, even in a small way, she actually liked the hectic schedule because it kept her from dwelling in the past, from feeling too much, from hoping.

Still, she answered this intruder interrupting her meal of cold coffee and plain bread. “Hello?” she said, waiting for the intruder’s reply.
The voice was familiar in so many ways, but yet, so different. It had the same rugged tone she was so used to, and the accent that she could never forget even if she wanted to. But yet, all these familiar traits were masked by something else, something foreign, like a blanket overlaying it. And when she figured what that blanket was, she was shocked. She had heard this same kind of voice over and over again in her short 8months career working in the wards, the desperate voice of someone saying a last goodbye. Of course in her profession she was trained to deal with these things, and she could, perfectly, until it happened to her. Until it happened to her father.

It was her father’s very own voice speaking through the receiver. Only it was soft, almost gentle, and it shocked her that her rugged-no-nonsense Papa would talk like that. And what shocked her even more, were the few words he had for her.
With his new found voice he whispered “Doreen, I’m going to miss you so so much.”

And that was it, just those 9 words he had for his oldest daughter. No shouting or sarcasm, no dictation or rough orders. Just a gentle voice. But she hated it, to her it was the voice of a defeated man. And a defeated man just wasn’t her Papa. NO. Not her Papa who was the most street smart man she’d ever known. Not her Papa who could build a table and bench with scrap wood and his bare hands. Not her Papa who owned the largest and most meaningful home library she’d ever seen. Not her Papa.

She was angry at the way he was talking and even more at the things he was saying. It was all ridiculous to her. Through the phone she demanded to know where he was, to which his only reply was “It’s not important. Take care of yourself and your sisters.” “So typical of him” she managed to say to herself despite the angry tears blurring her vision of her surroundings. The next hour was a big blur as she made hundreds of phone calls to relatives she hadn’t kept contact with to locate her father. Just as she expected she received more than a friendly helping of sarcastic and occasionally angry remarks reminding her again and again how self-absorbed she’d been all this while. “To loose track of your own father! This is insane” But she couldn’t agree more with them, she deserved everything they had to hurl at her, and more. How could she have let things get this bad?

She finally confirmed that her father had checked himself in for heart complications at a government hospital in the next state. Being new in the area, she didn’t know her way around. “Again Pa was right, I should have paid more attention to my surroundings and got more familiar when I arrived and not lock myself up in my shell. Argh. Even not being here he can still nag at me.” She rang up some of her colleagues asking for a lift to see her father. Too busy. Turning to her friends instead, she was sure they’d understand her urgency. But she only got her heart broken over and over again as each of them gave an array of excuses why they could not drive her 550km across the country on a 15minute notice.

Taking a few of her belongings from her desk, including a small empty picture frame, she was lost when she walked out of the hospital aimlessly to the nearby road. Sitting down on the bare tar, she was going through a kaleidoscope of emotions, many familiar ones and a few she’d never experienced before. Messed up with confusion and fatigue she couldn’t even bring herself to cry. She just sat and waited. For what she didn’t know, all she knew was that she was not going to make any progress tracking down her Pa in her current state.

Maybe it was insanity, maybe it was her letting her guard down, maybe it was an act of desperation, but she flagged down a group of teenagers in a four-wheel drive and hitched a ride from the strangers. She didn’t care that she was being irresponsible, she didn’t care that she was obliging others to go out of their way to help her. Manners? Courtesy? She’d shown plenty to her colleagues and friends but when she really needed their help, their non-actions showed more than any amount of manners and courtesy could tell.

The hours in the back of the bumpy four-wheel drive were painful, but made a little more tolerable by the bubbly group of youngsters trying to cheer their new guest up. Telling her about their hometowns, travels and future plans. Of course they could tell that she wasn’t paying attention, only being polite. But they were more than happy just to fill in the awkward silence.

After some minor confusion panicking, they made it to the hospital she had sourced out. Thanking her gracious hosts, she made a mental note to thank God for the lively angels He had sent to keep her company and in a way, kept her sane through the journey.

It wasn’t the antiseptic smell that made her stomach churn, she was already used to the smell that was common in all hospital. But it was the apprehension of meeting her Pa, she didn’t know what to expect. The last time she saw him he had been fine, as tough as he had always been. But the phone call made it clear that many things had changed since the last time.

Entering the ward, it was hard to stop the wave of shame and guilt from taking over her. There surrounding her Pa were all their relatives, she could not even remember the last time they had such a big gathering. Everybody was here. Her sisters were there too, but she could not bring herself to look at them, what kind of example had she set for them all these while disappearing like that? What made things worst were all the warm wishes, expensive gifts and nutritional preparations that were piled up for her Pa. While she empty handed.

Pa called her closer. Every step she took was now a conscious effort on her part, because somehow walking had become as hard as lifting boulders with her feet. When she finally got a clearer look at her Pa, to her relief she realized nothing had really changed. Of course he was thinner, and paler, but she could still see the twinkle in her father’s eyes, one that told the world not to mess with him even though he was a small man, and she could still see the pride he carried with him, the same air of dignity won her respect. She was relieved, Pa wasn’t lost after all. The both of them had never been good with words. She knew that. Family talk had always been about no-nonsense practical stuff, non of the cute affectionate exchange. But yet it still surprised her that even in these circumstances all Pa could ask her was how work, when only hours ago, he had almost driven her mad with worry. But that was him. That was her practical Pa.

He didn’t fill her in on his condition, neither did she ask. Even a doctor at 22, her Pa could still make her feel like an odd little girl just by interrogating her on what she had been up too, how was the new hospital, how was the car engine performing, when was she going to get that hair cut he ordered for her unkempt hair long ago? And like clock-work she answered his questions obediently, for a moment forgetting the urgency of the visit and just enjoying being his little dorky girl all over again. That was when she spotted on his bedside table the little wooden house she and a sisters had made for him way back when they were young as a father’s day present. They’d used ice-cream sticks and on the roof stuck a picture of their father and of their mother. And on either sides of the house wall, were photos of the 3 children. Only after seeing this odd little house did she pluck up the courage to present him with her gift which she had carried with her from the hospital. A humble photo frame she had made for his last birthday but did not make it back home to hand it to him.
“Good craftsmanship” he said. Exactly what he said when they presented him the wooden house years ago. She smiled, for once feeling real pride.

That night after he had strictly ordered everyone to go home and rest, she sat in the cafeteria and wrote her letter.

No Title 2.

Pa,

I’m not trying to get all sentimental and stuff because I know you don’t belief in that and you will probably squirm. But hear me out alright? Because there are some things you really need to know.

I know that you and mommy gave up most of your youthful life bringing our up our family. When most young people your age were still out there partying and having the time of their lives, you were taking on loans and planning for our future. You gave up your youth for us, so in your senior age, I want you to relieve what you missed out on. I want to send you traveling to all the places you’ve only been reading about in that library of yours.

I know that you were the first person to introduce words and books to me. Because I can remember hating you for forcing me to read my ‘Peter and Jane’ book over and over again until I got it right. And now I can read! All because of your brave efforts of taming the wild Doreen! I know you are disappointed that it is getting hard for you to read the books you love. Because you once told me that when you finally retired you would have the time you needed to savoir every book you collected like precious treasures these past years. So now, I want to be the one to repeat the words for you, to read and re-read your books for you.

You used to try your best to dress me up. But your ever practical taste always ended me up looking like a little china boy. White singlets, shorts and caps were our dress code, I used to complain silently about the lack of pretty dresses and frills, but you taught me that simple was beautiful. You used to tie my hair for me every morning before kindergarten, though I would squirm at the yanking and pulling, I actually didn’t mind that the two pigtails were always unbalanced, because non of my friends dads tied their hair for them. You took time to do even the things that most dads would disregard as not important or not under their job scope as a father. I just wanted you to know that I still remember those moments, they are important to me and that your time wasn’t wasted.

You tied my shoe lace as tight as you knew how because you didn’t want me to trip and fall over them, and you washed my cuts when I was still clumsy enough to fall down in the end. Now it is getting harder to move around, but I want to be the one to hold your hand tight as you learn to walk again, and I want to wash the cuts I caused you by ignoring your needs for so long.

Even when our family was at a stable stage and you could provide for us comfortably, you still thought of us above yourself. You deserved all the expensive perfumes, golf games and fine wine the rest of your colleagues were enjoying. But instead, you chose to save up and send me to medical school.

Pa, you were never really good with affectionate words or actions. But that’s how we knew you always loved us. Your hard work, lessons by examples and sacrifices gave and taught us all we needed to know. And maybe all you ever wanted from us was for us to one day become useful, responsible people. We are on our way there Pa, wait for us ya?

Love,
Doreen.

She never delivered the letter.

Pictures? On a blog?

Can use blogspot to show pictures wan ah??
Whoah, happening-nya!!!!! Lets see.....

FUYOH!!!!!! *opens eyes big big* Really wei. So cool, so chun-ted, so canggih! I feel like a Bill Gates *beams*

Ok...so what can I post that involves pictures?

When do girls usually like to take pictures of themselves?

Of course during a prom lar. After they've spent hundreds of ringgits on the dress-shoe-bag-makeup-hair package. And not to mention the endless nights and days dreaming about that 'special night'. The nite. The fairytale night.

Have I been to a prom? no.

But have i kepoh-ed when somebody else was preparing for her special evening? definately yes!

Few weeks back Lesley had her MPT5 dinner (Majlis Perpisahan Tingkatan 5). After weeks of talking and worrying about it, it finally came. Drove her to pyramid to get the makeup and hair done. My goodness, should have seen the nervous wreck the 3 of us were when deciding which hairdresser to send her too. I mean, we've never been for these kind of dinners, we've never touched makeups let alone apply them, and hair? All we were tought to do was wash and dry and if you were REALLY hard working, comb.

(My dad is a very simple man, according to him, if you spend more than 5 minutes on your hair every morning, something is wrong.)

Anyways. we decided on a place called err.... Go-cut or something along that line. I was still quite scared tho, cos the senior stylist's inches thick makeup reminded me of a certain Christina ARgulela poster I saw recently.

So how did it turn out?

Did Christina ARgulela turn my sister into my 7years old birthday party clown lookalike nightmare?

*HOLD YOUR BREATHS PEOPLE*

*gulp gulp gulp*

*gasp gasp gasp*

Introducing....For the first time in the public blogsphere:

Lesley Tan Suwen *drum roll*

OH...before we proceed.

*WARNING THE FOLLOWING PRESENTATION MAY CAUSE EXCESSIVE AMOUNTS OF DROOLING. NOT FOR THE FAINT HEARTED.BUCKET RECOMMENDED*

Dont say I didnt warn you ah.Ok.. now we can continue.

*ahem* Lesley Tan Suwen! *drum roll*

(Hehe..pretty leh? I know many people out there wont belive this babe to be my sister, cos I myself didnt believe it! But she is! THis was after we got back from pyramid. Hold your horses, you haven seen her in the dress YET.)

(Ahh..I really really liked this! We bought some flower clips from a this cute lil stall and asked the stylist to add it into the hair-do.I think it reflected my sisters soft, elegant personality. ps:ignore the sesat girl still in her imu dress code at the back.)

(Now this is her in the entire outfit. Aiyah...forgot to get the full lenght of the dress. But must tell you, I damn proud of her lor, she wasnt all spoilt and looking for the most expensive dress she could fit into. My sis is actually very thrifty wan, the dress,bag, makeup and hair, all came out of her own money which she had been saving for months! *proud che che*)

(Cinderellasuwen going off for her fairytale night.)

*phew* that was an exciting day. And just incase you are wondering what the fairy-god-mother was doing behind the scenes while all these photoshots and fussing was going on.....

scroll down.

(What can i say? Fary-god-mother aka Rachel Tan has to keep up with the times. She's a busy woman.)

Just some reflection:
Its cool and great to be and simple. Personally, I've always prefered the simple things, maybe cos that was how we were brought up, with our alfa-mucho-man-dad =P. And i still like it. But seeing how happy Lesley was when she got all dolled up for the first time in her life ( im sure you can see it too), even Rachel was an excited bumble-bee, it showed me that there was really no harm in a lil err.... experimenting???

So girls, if you occasionally,feel like dressing up a lil, just to feel good about yourself. Mayb wear that flattering skirt, or that sweet blouse you thought might be too show-offy for a normal shopping trip, or that pair of heels you feel give you Nicole-Kidman's legs, i say go ahead and do it! We dont need to wait for a dinner, ocassion, boyfriend or date to make us want to look and feel special. Go on out there, and knock-em dead. I know my sister did =P

My HERO-(ine)

So i was like eating, like in my room the other day. And when i like scoup a mouth full of my like maggie-perisa-sup kambing- with egg, guess what like happened? Like the electric went off! PITCH BLACK! I like couldnt see anything! And I didnt have a like a torchlight/candle/glowstick. And and and nobody was like at home with me. I was alone. And I like thought 'This is the end, I am like so going to die. It's so sad that I have to die like 2days before my summative1 exam''

(hehe...interesting writing style right? btw what do you call a male bimbo?........ a MIMBO??)

Yar...so anyways the power on my whole floor went out on saturday, 2 days before the summative. And the very stressed out Denise had to finish her dinner on the belcony using the washing machine as a table, romantically lit the bukit jalil evening haze.I am the biggest bimbo when it comes to electrical stuff ( makes me wonder where all my dad's engineering genes went.) so i called ms.Low, who told me to check the electric box thingy, which i did, but still didnt know how to fix it.

Next step? Seek profesional help. The VistaB superguards! The ever ready, and strong and muscular and and and and.....they didnt have the key to open the electric bow thingy. *Awww*
But thank you to them anyways for coming all the way with me to see what they could do. You are still a hero in my eyes uncle guard!

Ok...so no progress so far. Desperate times call for desperate measures. SUMMON THE..............

The beautiful, the graceful, the magnificent, who laughs in the face of danger, who thriumph over all evil. THE one. THE only. THE superwoman-Angelene-Teo-Fungus!!!!!
*que powerpuff girls theme song*

Yes.... ms.Angie's took pity on our poor victim, and took her under her wings. Inviting her over the kingdom with clean floors, clean sofa, clean toilets, clean bed sheets, tv and internet!!!!!!!!

Ance again the day was saved. Thanks to Superwoman-Angelene.

*que powerpuff girl closing song*

Translation: I studied and stayed over at Angie's place (thanks dear! your my hero!). Electric still wasnt here by sunday, went back subang. And today is monday. Just sat for summative1.

#dedicated to the painfully painfull times I had to endure powerpuff girls movies when Rachel was still in her ''stage''#

No latterns this year?

It not med school thats bugging me. Its just that....

Rachel called me on Saturday asking me to come back that night because the neighborhood lantern celebration was finally here. Every year, the families would bring their lanterns and hang around in the park just opposite our house. I’m not sure bout Lesley, but me and Rachel had been waiting for this event for some time now. I love to watch glowing colourful lanterns, especially the paper ones! And walking around with them in the cool of the evening… *sigh* so peaceful! (also makes me feel more Chinese lah)

A few weeks back she even offered to use her allowance to but the lanterns we saw while shopping in Carrefour since I was broke. Now tell me: HOW often do you find an 11year old willing to share her money???

But don’t worry, I didn’t rob a primary school kid of her ‘rehat time’ nasi lemak. Because mom who was with us didn’t allow it. Anyways, I bought 3 packets colourful paper lanterns from endah parade and kept them at home, cos I didn’t know the exact date we were going to use them yet. And now that it is here, I cant go home and play with them cos im supposed to be here interpreting Vishna’s immuno notes.

Since I moved out, I haven’t been spending much time at home. It hurts that I cant spend time with my sisters like we used to anymore. And now, I kind of regret being out of the house so much with camps and projects during the 1 ½ months holidays given to me last semester. It hurts that Rachel is so young, and me as a sister cant be there for her like I was able to with Lesley. I really wish I had more time to be ‘buddies’ with my youngest sister. Maybe I’ll just have to MAKE the time from now on. It also hurts that she has to send an sms like this to try and bug me to come home:

“Yer.. u ar.. u don come.. u break lesley’s heart.. now u 2 don go then I tak mahu pergi.. u 2 ruin my weekend!.. hate u all.. come la..1 day oni mer.”

I love my course, I know I will love my future work. But I also want to be part of my sisters lives, I want to go crazy with them, shop with them, cry with them, grow into fat potatoes couches with them, fight with them, to advise them and listen to their advises.

Don’t want to lose another loved one because of decisions I made for myself. I know plenty of people out there manage to juggle both work and other things they love, it’s not impossible. Just takes more discipline on my side =)

ps: i did get to play with latterns in the end, with real mooncakes even! When we celebrated Eugene's and Tze Lin's birthday by the vista poolside. Total number of latterns bought: 6. Total number of latterns that made it through the night: 1. Total number of people that attended: 13. Total number of people landed in the pool: almost all lar.

pps: According to Poh Peng, expect to see people walking around vista with lanterns this weekend.

3rd Oct 2006.

Waiting is painful. Forgetting is painful. But not knowing which to do is the worst kind of suffering.
- By the River Piedra I Sat Down and Wept by Paulo Coelho -