1,000-hit mark

Wow, I just realised that my webpage has reached a total of 1,000 hits. That's quite a feat. When I first started blogging, I'd wanted an outlet to express myself freely and most importantly, anonymously. Really, I didn't expect people to read my blog.

Ok, I'm curious to know who my readers are. Please say hi and tell me where you're from. :)

Crazy observation

Ever since Mr. J's fascination with my hands and feet, I've been studying other women's hands and feet (if I can't help it). Secretly studying and scrutising at the shape and size of their palms and fingers, the skin texture, if their nails taper nicely, etc.

This is completely insane. I've got to stop wondering what's behind Mr. J's fascination with my hands and feet. Up till now, I still can't figure out what's the attraction.

Hmm, perhaps it's a guy thing.

Sexy dreaming

Every few months or so, my body would remind of me of my primary function/pleasure in life.

Yeah, I'd get a really sexy dream in my sleep and wake up in the middle of the night, all hot and bothered and think to myself, "Damn! I could do with a man in my life right now. So I could wake him up and get on him."

Last night, I had the wierdest wet dream ever. My faceless dream lover was caressing and stroking my feet. It was just feet! No amorous kissing, no languid love-making, no sweet cuddling. Just him stroking my feet and guiding my foot to gently fondle his balls. It was a sensual, erotic and bizarre wet dream. Yes, I woke up this morning with my cheeks flushed, my heart racing, my body sweaty and my panties wet.

Hmm, maybe this has something to do with Mr. J's fascination with my size 4 feet. He just couldn't keep his eyes off them the last time I met him.

My anti-clubbing "kaki"

Last weekend, my 22 year cousin Annie accompanied me shopping for a beige miniskirt. I used to wear mini skirts all the time as a teen and stopped wearing them as I like to stretch my legs a little while sitting down. The hot weather has made it impossible for me to wear my knee-length denim skirt. The other day, I actually chopped a good 2 inches off and made it into a miniskirt.

It made a lot of difference! My thighs weren't hot and sticky with sweat. Not only that, I received lots of attention wearing my 'new' denim skirt. I realised that I should show off my legs. After all, if you've got them, flaunt them.

While checking out the shops in 1 Utama, Annie asked me what'd happened to Mr. J. And I told her he's gone back to his clubbing chicka girlfriend. "Aiyoh, so old that dungu still wants to go clubbing?" she shook her head and tsk-tsk'ed. And she launched onto a million reasons on why clubbing is such a stupid activity. I listened quietly and was amused with her open disdain for clubbing, at her age.

Now, Annie wants to meet Mr. J and have a lengthy discourse with him on why clubbing is an utter waste of time.

The cookbook that saw me travel south

After a good month of not baking, I decided to bake "Banana-White Chocolate-Cherry" cupcakes for my friends. It's an easy recipe where you melt the butter in a pot, add sugar, flour, baking powder; stir and mix the rest of the ingredients. And voila! You have a nicely mixed batter that requires no mixing in the cake mixer. This ridiculously easy concept came from "One Pot Cakes" by Andrew Schloss which is unfortunately out of print. However, you may find the same recipe from Nigella Lawson's "How To Be A Domestic Goddess".

Ever since I tried Andrew Schloss "Chocolate Bleeding Heart Cakes" recipe in a Glamour 1997 issue magazine, I've been eye-ing the book on Amazon.com. Initially, I had wanted to purchase the book but I was a wee bit late as the ringgit pegging in 1998 upped the cost by 50%. Pretty soon, the book went out of print. Later, it was even sold second-hand on Amazon for US$200.

But I never gave up my search for "One Pot Cakes" and trawled other booksites but my search was fruitless. So, every now and then, out of sheer boredom, I'd googled for "One Pot Cakes".

Last year, I hit the jackpot! I came across this Worldwide Library Catalogue link that indicated that the Singapore National Library actually have copies of Andrew Schloss's One Pot Dessert Series. I tell you, I actually jumped up and down on my chair. It was the luckiest day of my life!

One week after my discovery, I made a special trip down to Singapore to get THAT copy of "One Pot Cakes". My S'porean friend, Ade was amazed by my story of how I've been waiting for years to get hold of "One Pot Cakes" and good friend like her, borrowed a copy from the National Singapore Library and made a photocopy for me.

Imagine, going down to Singapore for a 100 page cookbook?!?! Yeah, that further confirms me as a Baking Queen.

Wanting Mr. J's hands

My shoulders and neck ache. My head feels heavy. An invisible tight band is constricting my forehead. A slow and steady throb in my neck working up to a migraine.

I, so badly want Mr. J strong hands to knead away all the stress and fatigue. Damn! Why didn't I get his stupid hints of "going shopping during the weekends" and ask him out?? And why, why, why did I so adamantly insist that I'm the antithesis of a clubbing chick??

Sigh.

Excuse me, while I go get some Tiger Balm to nurse my headache and temporal remorseful self. :-(

The lunch I had to had

My last post was the result of my broken agreement to not call Mr. J to lunch. Yah, I did the unimaginable and asked him out to lunch. Simply because I saw 2 signs last week which nudged me to go call the dungu. At first, it was a car number plate with his surname. I thought, Ah well, it's just sheer coincidence. A few days later, I went to KLCC and saw the time as the last 4 digits of his phone number on the parking ticket. Try as hard as I could, I couldn't ignore those signs. Finally, after a few days of feeling restless, I gave in and called him.

It has been a good 3 months since I last saw him. Funnily, I didn't have any expectations on that day. I just wanted to act on those signs and be done and over with the whole thing.

There's still this strange attraction between the both of us and we were flirting with each other. He couldn't stop staring at my hands and even stole a peek to look down at my feet. And ahem, sneaked a glance at my chest. Hah, men think I don't notice their quick, furtive glances but Hello! I DO. At one point, he couldn't stop staring at me and I had to look down at my plate of noodles. I must admit, I, too had this insane need to touch his face and his hair. Imagine what could've happened if one of us made physical contact.

I think it was the yoga I did in the morning which put me in a bloody good mood. Yep, I was feeling mighty good that day. And Mr. J did a double-take when he first saw me. Yeah, like a slight shudder on his face.

And so, I told him of the ridiculous speedating fiasco which Allie conned me into. He panicked a little when I told him I went out with 5 men, and breathed a small sigh of relief when I informed him it all didn't go beyond 1st dates. Soon, he was laughing at my story. We were having a good time. Later, we went for coffee and still had so much to talk about that time flew by real quick.

In the end, it was the lunch I had to had because:
1. Mr. J casually announced that he's gotten back with his girlfriend.
2. And surprisingly, I was relieved and happy for him when he told me that.
3. I realised we both like each other but aren't doing anything about it.
4. All along, I knew his heart wasn't there 100% for me and I was right.
5. I realised it was my lucky break to not have him last year when he was single.
6. His not initiating has nothing to do with me.

Hmm, I think I have reached my final closure.

Speedating to a life revelation

Last year, when I started blogging in November, I had a life-defining moment. Yep, an epiphany of sorts.

It started with my friend Allie who came back from Spore and called me to inform that she was taking me to dinner to meet a potential bf/husband/mate to introduce to me.

"Woman, I promise, promise, promise this'll be the last time I'm setting you up." With a big sigh, I told her - okay. After all, what have I got to lose? I'll be treated to a free dinner at some nice swanky restaurant. At least, the food'd be good.

On the date night, Allie came to my house at 5.30pm, armed with hair rollers, tongs, make-up, some dresses and even shoes. Woah! I told her- Oi, I agreed to a blind date, not a makeover-lah.. She assured me she wanted me to look my best. Crazy woman went on to do my hair into big wavy, loose curls which surprisingly turned out well. Also, she helped me to choose my outfit. However, I only wear what I want to wear and after much protesting, I settled on my own strapless velvet black dress and strappy heels. I sure wasn't going to wear any of her low-back dresses. My rule for dressing- I have to be comfortable and look elegant at the same time.

So, Allie came along with me and gave me the map to get to the place. It was located at the back of the Indian temple near the PuduRaya Bus Station. Good lord! PuduRaya!! I thought. And I'd secretly hope it was a surprise birthday party for me.

During the journey to the dubious building behind Pudu Raya Bus Station, I asked Allie to update me a little on my blind date. She was completely clueless -"Aiya, you'll meet him later" And I started praying for a night that ends well.

We headed to this place called 1919. When I drove up the road, I saw an old colonial-style white house. Immediately I fell in love with it. For a moment, I was glad I came. So, we entered the building which was a restaurant. Apparently, they hold jazz and piano performances at 1919.

There were about 20 men and women, all dressed to their nines and they were registering at this table at the doorway. I looked at Allie and hissed, " You stupid biatch! This is a speedating event!! Allie, I'm so going to get you for this." With much reluctance, I registered my name and was given a sticker to pin on my dress.

I won't fill you on how the whole speedating thing went. But I ticked yes for all 15 men. Yeah, I couldn't be bothered- fat, ugly, goodlooking, cleancut handsome, slobby-looking, corporate type, creative type. They were all the same to me that night. And during the 3 minute introduction, all I talked about was how gorgeous the building was and how I wanted to go upstairs to see if they had wooden floors and what the bathroom tiles were like.

Ah, well, my response was pretty good, I had 8 men who indicated interest in me. So far, I went out with 5 of them. But nothing happened beyond those first dates.

Perhaps, I'd always known that I couldn't make the man of my life appear with much planning and consideration. It's all up to fate and to God.

Allie came home for Christmas and asked me how it all went. I replied," You know, Allie, I'm NEVER ever going to get married. Maybe, I'm NEVER ever going to have a man in my life." At that moment, something went bling inside me.

Yeah, that took off a whole lot of weight and expectations that I've been subconciously carrying for years. The expectation of meeting the right man, get married and be a blissfully happy married woman. I had a clarifying moment where I realised that life is so much more than finding the right man and getting married.

I'm going to do a great many things in my life.