Next page, please.

They would often look overwhelmed by the attention showered upon them, especially from the paparazzi for the day. The day when even a plain Jane and the Joe next door would look good and are genuinely admired by many for many different reasons.

I love weddings, especially looking at the cluelessness of the bride and groom on what lay ahead once the day is over. When the last bit of make up has been wiped off and the new life ahead which begins once the honeymoon is over. The whole rite of passage is, to me is so symbolic for the change of the season of life that they are going to experience. Of learning to continue loving in acceptance, the person you choose to spend the rest of your life with despite the differences, idiosyncracies, habits and everything else. Nothing else, I personally find, can be as challenging as it ( marriage ).

The tea ceremony went on very well and the toiling and sleepless night was well worth it. Everyone loved the small cups of cheesy desserts and the bride and groom loved their wedding cake, which I made– with Tito keeping me company throughout the whole night. Fresh red roses on pinkish berry wedding cheesecake, as I discovered turned out really pretty. So the labour intensive moment was well worth it, as for the first time I had gone to a wedding and I had the opportunity to say, hey I like the wedding cake.. and oh hey, I made it :).

Not to be an ego maniac but more of like a much needed booster for the rough times we are going through at the moment. But then again, in my tiredness, I forgot to take a photo of it. Blergh…

Advertisements

Between the two

I put Tito on a diet because his belly is getting too big and he is getting as fat as garfield. He sleeps most of the time as well. On the other hand, Milo is losing alot of weight due to the lack of appetite.

Between Tito and Milo, personality wise they are both very different. Milo is the more sociable of the two and is a part of the neighbourhood gang of toms. Sometimes we can see him walk around with his gang of toms, ‘step macho’. In those moments, when we called out to him, he would totally ignore us, pretending he doesn’t know us at all, or pretending he didn’t hear us at all. And would continue walking with the other toms in a gangly manner. He seems to have playmates outside of the house as well, be it the next door Tom or the alley cats. He has come of age and had taken a liking to the next door tabby. And I caught them in the act one fine afternoon. Soon, we would hear of our next door tabby pregnant? And our once little kitten Milo, would then be a father. Time flies.

Tito on the other hand is very anti-social. His only friend being Milo, his elder brother of 5 months from the same mother and father. He stays at home all the time, does not have any friends, doesn’t even go out of the house compound. He eats and sleeps and watches snails in the garden. All his activities are usually alone, or with Milo. Once we helped nurse a kitten with a broken leg which belongs to one of the students. Tito was so mad about it that he stayed in the room for a week, at the most the dining area and refused to get anywhere out ( as the kitten was put in the cage outside the house ). Each time we brought the kitten in, he hissed and tried to start a fight with the little one, in all gusto of a big bully. Unlike Milo, who sniffed and licked the ailing kitten like a welcoming god-brother.

Passport to heaven

It all started with a BM comprehension passage about Prophet Lut. Then it went on to the homosexuality issues found in there because the 11 year old girl started asking ‘ how can man marry man and woman marry woman?’. And the 12 year old boy, who is a little bit informed about the affairs of life asked, ‘ Oh teacher, is it like now that they have gays and lesbians?’

And I had to juggle between explaining in a non-homophobic way but at the same time ‘non-consenting due to faith issues’ manner. Luckily, both their families are from the same faith approach as I am, so the discussion went along the common line.

Then suddenly the girl quipped, ‘ Teacher, I have the next two years or so to die..’ She said so as a matter of factly I couldn’t tell whether it was a joke or otherwise. It was not a joke. She really meant it. I asked why. ‘Ohhh …!’ She exclaimed in the full grandeur of an excited pre-pubescent kiddo. ‘ I read that, if you die as a child, you would straight away go to heaven. Once I get my period, I will be an adult, and then as an adult, I would definitely be tempted to do so many wrong things.That makes it harder for me to go to heaven. If I die before I get my period, I will die as a child and definitely go to heaven! So I want to die before I get my period lah !!’

Whooopsy. Before I could even regain my composure on how to tackle that, the boy suddenly added, with all his 12 year old wisdom. ” Hey you know what, I have been thinking about that too, alot lately actually. That I have about 2 years or so before I reach puberty. It would be nice to die before that and straight away get the passport to heaven!!’

I took one minute to breathe in. Another minute to breathe out. Rolled up my sleeves and told myself, it’s time to get down to business!

of two different worlds

I didn’t quite enjoy the last book I read from HabiburahmanEl.Shirazy, the Indonesian version I got during our last Jakarta trip. I found it too draggy. I think the only one of his works which appealed to me was Ayat-Ayat Cinta, which I really loved. He may have a different approach and all that, but I still think despite the thousands of copies his works have been sold in our region, he has not reached where Pramoedya had been. It’s like comparing one of those Malay ‘cintan-cintun’ novelist to Pak SamadSaid.

Cannot lah kan?

Pitter Patter

I read, that when it rains it is good to make a prayer for anything that we may want or need. Any request asked upon HIM while the sky opens up for the rain to fall, in all of HIS wisdom, would be granted swiftly.

Yesterday it rained cats and dogs and monkeys and elephants. Complete with the thunderstorm, which actually was a tad scary.
And I made that prayer, over and over and over again. I’ve never wanted something so badly in my life, till now.

Pick me up

I’ve not written about food for quite a while already. Probably because I am now fully settled in my blood type diet, have changed the larder contents  accordingly and the withdrawal symptoms have left me completely, sans anymore cravings for this and that. 

This book tries to teach kids that ‘ we are not what we have‘. An there is also a saying that ‘we are what we eat’. Together, they will make the sentence ‘ we are not what we have, but we are what we eat’ . Make sense? I think it does, at least to me. 

Talking about food, sometimes once in a while I do indulge in some ‘pick me ups’. I think I deserve it after trying very hard on the day to day basis to cook and eat healthy, using organically grown ingredients too. My ‘pick me ups’ is literally Pick Me Up, or the Italian meaning to it –Tiramisu. The best I’ve tasted here was just last Friday, before my mobile phone got stolen. Met up former schoolmate and currently fellow crossover Al, who is staying ten minutes away from us with her Bosnian husband. She’s been here longer than myself and I only knew that recently.

So we had our post girls school tête-à-tête at Alexis bistro in Bangsar, which is famous for their delectable desserts. And their Tiramisu is to die for ( well, I wouldn’t exactly die for a Tiramisu–not a Tira-jihadi by any standards, but yeah it was that good ) and the raving reviews about their desserts from many online/offline food critics are extremely well deserving. First bite had me the ‘hmmmm’ sensation like knocked off the road by a truck kinda moment.

In my next month’s indulgence, I hope to try their pecan pie which looked yummiliciously inviting, or their berries-gateau which looked pretty. And yeah, their desserts taste as good as they look too.

Alexis bistro is at Jalan Telawi 3, Bangsar. Don’t go if you are on a diet. Don’t say you are have not been warned.

And then it’s gone…

The gist is, my phone was stolen while I was doing my asar prayers at the megamall just now. How it happened, I am not too sure. By the time I finished praying, the phone was gone from my bag. How the theft took place, it was beyond me. I did pay attention to the sign pasted on the front wall of the surau ‘ Berhati-hati  kecurian’ . Some hurried shufflings later while I was praying, after the salam, I opened my bag and saw that everything was intact. All, except my phone. The one I just got in lieu of our anniversary last month.

Lessons learnt:

  • Fancy schmancy phones don’t really serve their whole purpose fully, other than to tempt thieves.
  • The rule 90/10 rule is true.
  • The phone is just another material item. It has sentimental value as it was given by the significant other yes, but the significant other is still with me, not gone with the phone that is stolen, for that I’m in gratitude. In other words, redha.
  • When the going gets tough, go shopping with a girlfriend and yak over good food. It helps, heaps… Thanks Al 🙂

So I bought a cheapo Nokia phone for Rm 119 which allows me to call and text and that’s it. Functional and basic. Fuss free too. So friends, text me with your name and number…