really.
this certain tv personality irritates the crap out of me.
even though i’m faraway in melbourne, i still see her pics popping out from various malaysian sites. her irritating voice+bad ass grammar haunt my head.
and her screeching laughter of burnt tires.
how can she possibly look so much more aunty when she’s merely my age? (yes, i’m not particularly a piece of tender meat, but hey, i don’t look 45)
arghhagegaee….*bitchy bitchy bitchy*
i feel like buying her hair extension of russian virgin hair so she could at least have a better hair cut to cover up her lack of talent.
and perhaps, to veil that scratchy voice.
bah.
i’m really stressed out right now because i have to cook for sam tonight.
after 2 yrs of not lighting up the stove…i’m fearing of setting addie’s couture kitchen on fire
i’m the worst bridesmaid ever
first, i nearly couldn’t wake up when el picked me up in the morning.
then i was eating non-stop through out the photo shoot.
i fell asleep on the couch for the longest time after telling daze i’ll touch up her make up after she change out of her gown
the finale?
i missed 3/4 of her wedding reception.
fearing of the flowers that filled up the ballroom, i took a telfast to curb my allergies.
forgetting about the telfast 5 minutes later, i downed andy’s glass of champagne and another filler before the formal introduction.
you guessed it.
the telfast gave me a cheap night out.
i was t-r-i-p-p-i-n-g and hallucinating. a bad one. the ballroom starting swirling.
i climbed upstair after failing to handle the bad trip. i stared at the ceiling, thinking what kind of bridesmaid i can be before passing out face down for 2 hours…the ceiling started morphing into a sea of waves.
when i finally woke up from the horrible horrible experience, i missed daze & fran’s first dance and dinner!
i woke up on time for the party only.
(because i drank so much water and tea, i think i flushed out the effect of telfast. i started tearing, sneezing and broke out in hives after when i submerge myself into the sea of flowers in the ballroom)
what more? because i’m a fag hag, i missed the bouquet throwing too………
addie’s word kept ringing in my head while i was trying to get out of the swirly-burly visionary
“telfast makes me sick”
trust me.
i’m so traumatized by telfast now….
for pictures, please hop over to addie’s. yah. i didn’t bring my camera too.
they say it takes a minute to find a special someone
an hour to appreciate them
a day to love them
but an entire life to forget them
today i passed by a victorian house with a lemon tree planted in the front lawn.
i thought “i could live in that house.”
i kind of like the quiet life in the suburb, but the amount of aging, frail retirees having coffee and muffin in the mall in the am freaks me out a little.
i thought of re-settling back here, the slow-paced kind of life.
i could get use to that.
slow-paced, silvercasting life in my victorian house in the sub-urban, chilling out in the front porch with fresh made lemonade on a sunny sunday afternoon….
yes, i’m broke.
legalized drug pusher(pharmacist la) & my temp. psychiatrist when i was cracking under wedding planning: Ling & YC
YC & YC: the guy who attempted to bully me 20 years ago. i was a feisty bitch since young. no prize for guessing who got the beating up instead.(which brought us back to the reason why i smacked someone with my laptop. she called my an “unemployed useless alcoholic, chain smoker, drug addict who only knows how to spend daddy’s money and messing uaround with men with daddy’s money” -______-”. last i checked, MrP highlights my spending on his CCard and demand for a cheque end of the month, where i pump in extra hundreds or 1k on a good month..even though he’s the one who sugar coated me to leave my job to rest and recuperate with the promise of a stay home salary of 2k which i’ve never seen so far)
Mr&MrsPhoon sort of did a little dance when I showed them the statement of my fixed deposit. Contrary to popular belief, i do scrooge and secretly save my money to materialize the plot of my escape, instead of spending all i have and not have on crack.
D.A swerved the car a little when I spilled the bean of my secret saving. and now, i regret letting him know about my secret dosh…for i doubt i can live off him like an unemployed anymore…*wails*
bah, seriously, i should just cut the crap and get to the point.
i have some cloths to hack off. brand new, of course. only 1 piece each and i made them. if they do rip (touch wood), let me know instead of secretly beefing behind my back. i might seem like a bitch, but i’ll me more than happy to make things right, as customer service should top the list before everything else. (i think i did learn something from my retail management TAFE)
RM89.00
fits size s to a small m (yah, sue me for being a skinny bitch. don’t condemn me because the size doesn’t fit. love your body, live with it, or order a custom piece.)
skanky shorts with lace turn-ups and gold button
RM69.00 (xs-s)
indigo short cropped jacket with wood details
RM119.00 (s-m)
if you like my skanky bling up green open-toe stiletto, you can have it for RM90.00. i bought it for AU$119, only worn twice(inc. this shoot). size 38 (7)
we ship to everywhere and any corner of the world as long as you bear the postage.
maternal instinct?
jeeg sent me baby ally’s link during the weekend. i can’t peel my eyes off that little angel ever since.
eep. could it be my maternal instinct kicking in?
tsk tsk. bad day, bad day. my temperature hasn’t gone down, the groomzilla wouldn’t stop bugging me, the dress doesn’t fit and MrsP is going HAVOC! with her new karaoke.
vintage lovers
weighing a mere 41.5kg, i look like i have adam apple-pic courtesy of puggy
i took the first step to build the header for the new site. lately, shopping blogs are popping up like ’shrooms on cow dung after the rain. looking at the mountains of vintage loves i’ve collected, i think it should be the right time to share the love.
3 years ago, i made a mini fortune online (blogspot & ebay) selling handmade jewelleries and jinkies to support my mahjong fund. i shut it down as i moved back to malaysia to be tied down to my full time job and. no, my dad didn’t send me to architecture school to make jewelleries, hand bound notebooks and home made dresses.
as my health went downhill, i realized my full time job should not suck up my soul. so i kind of left. under health circumstances as well.
just in case you’re wondering, i’ve been collecting my home-made jinkies and loads and loads of vintage clothes for vintage lovers like me again.
one thing that sucks big time living in malaysia? getting your hands on vintage clothings is almost an impossible mission. oh how i miss those days when i dive into piles and piles of bundles.
ok so i’ve let out my not so secretive secret anymore.
phew.
time for bed.
x
oh ya. i picked up a wig from ken. i love new hair!
eruption
they were left collecting dust among the pile of sk II, kose, la prairie and other untouched cosmetic gifts from friends until i found these bottles while throwing away cosmetics i’ve not touch for the last 2 months. itchy ass, i tried them 2 nights ago for 2 days. my face and hair line broke out in red dots and acne like ickies when i woke up in the morning.
crap me. the 10k i spent to resurrect my skin was flushed, just like that!
to confirm it as irritation or my hormone screwing around with me, i rub a patch on my thigh. and you bet, the same kind of disgustos emerged.
squeezing 15 minutes from my jam packed schedule today, i took the stuff to the kiosk counter with given direction about an hour ago only to find the counter being dismantled, and their neighborhood shop told me apparently they owe some rent for months (not sure the info’s true.defaming from hateful neighbors?!).
instantly i thought something smells fishy. condemned skin+dismantled kiosk= x (you do the maths?)
having no clue of who is christien lavin, i googled only to find christien lavin’s blog, the locally proclaimed beckhams- husband and wife team, not a person as i assumed. i was looking at one of lavin’s photo. no doubt, i have to say, she is a looker. someone told me she n her husband are quite well known celebrities in malaysia. heck, it could be my lack of tv watching or presence in the country…i simply have no idea who they are. but there is something awfully familiar about lavin… then it hit me.
she reminded me of the girl who lived across the street with her aunt and monstrous uncle before we moved to theBiggerPlace. i was shipped off to australia before i turned legal, and years later i found out from her aunt that she’s married with a kid when i went back to pack up our abandoned house.
the resemblance of lavin and my ex-neighbor is uncanny. i clicked on further on their blog, to find her sharing the same surname as my ex-neighbor. i thought they are the same person, but their age didn’t match. then my super cannot jadi memory suddenly started working again.
lavin’s my ex-neighbor’s sister.
and just like that, i decided to let it go, instead of sending the bottles to aunty $’s lab to get them tested for what they claimed to be, and get my never-once-fail family lawyer to rip them apart if they turn out to be dingy-s.
so, i simply chucked the bottles away. and whined on my blog about my wasted 10k on facial and IPL instead.
fug me. the wedding’s on sunday, and i look like absolute crap.
shoot me please?
surreal
6 more days to the wedding.
2 weeks till i head back to melbourne for daze’s wedding.
3 weeks to K’s wedding.
4 weeks to L.C’s wedding.
burnt.
my 2G memory stick decided to pull its own plug on friday night when i held puggy close to camwhore. friday night didn’t turn out exactly too nice. having a mild food poisoning got me late to the last GX. on the brighter note, i actually managed to arrive on his 3rd call.
TAG was great, but i nearly fainted in the tiny little squashed up pit of happy party goers. towards the end of the night, i assumed D.A was sober enough to drive, so i downed quite a bit of beer from the almost-wasted jar with empty stomach, strongly holding the belief of “cannot waste alcohol”.
i learned not to assume in the future again.
D.A did the usual. hand in pocket, fumbling, pulling out the car key with a smile. *crap* wanting to get home before the cheap drunk takes over me, i tried my best to grab the boys into the car before its too late. but alas, it was almost impossible to peel C.J off the bar.the road.the parking lot. the road side.the monsoon drain.
i went into the kiosk to grab a pack of tissue and drinks for C.J halfway home. D.A was on the phone and C.J was missing when i got back.
“shit…don’t tell me he fell off and passed out again?!” i thought.
it was then, i saw his head rose from the monsoon drain. he was squatting in the drain.
i went over and sat next to him. my feet dangling over the drain as i passed him some tissues and drinks.
he spoke to me about his unhappiness.
and i listened.
i sat next to him while he squat in the drain, next to his pile of spew as we spoke about relationships on a early saturday morning….