What kind of change? Can you tell me?

Much has happened in the past week.

I've made up my mind to buy my own place. Now I have a bigger reason to get those funky plates, 50s retro chinese bowl, teapot, bedsheets, art hangings, etc. for my own space.

I shared a special and intimate night with Mr. J that completely changed the way I feel about myself and him. That night has opened him up emotionally. There's a stronger sense of connection between us. I don't regret my firm decision to wait, for more than 5 years, to have sex with the right man.

I stood up to a client who gave me excuses on why he couldn't pay me 50% downpayment, by holding work ransom until he pay the full sum. Client paid up and treated me the way I want to be treated- with professional respect.

I've prioritised my next paycheque to: 1. Property investment, 2. Travel fund, and 3. Savings (for emergencies & whatnot). No more mindless shopping and retail therapy from now on.

Still, I was overwhelmed with all the changes that happened. I was edgy, stressed out and exhausted by Sunday. So on Monday afternoon, I threw aside work and went for a full-body massage. It was so, so, so good that I was instantly calm, refreshed and back to my normal self.

Somehow, at the back of my mind, I can't help but worry a little. Until I remember a tarot reading which I did a few years back, at Sydney's Paddington Market. The tarot reader was an elderly lady in her 60s with long, crackling, red flaming hair. She had a deep, earthy resonating voice that I immediately trusted and felt secure. She was almost gypsy-like with a red rose in her hair and a black crocheted shawl.

But what striked me most was how accurate her reading was. And it was all about changes in my life then.

I remember asking her, "What kind of change? Can you tell me?"

To which, she assured me, "Don't worry, dear. Change is always good."

Yep, I must remember that.

p.s Selamat Merdeka, Malaysia :D

Tapping my nose

This morning, I woke up and felt a light tapping on my nose. Slowly, I opened my eyes and saw Mr. J grinning sheepishly at me.

Good morning, dahling.

Morning... I replied sleepily, with a thick voice.

Stop playing morse code! I wanna sleep some more...

You've got a cute nose, mah.

No, I don't. It's my least-favourite facial feature. My nose is squished, bulby with a rounded tip. Because I have small eyes, my nose looks comparatively larger.

Out of the blue, Mr. J would playfully give my nose one light tap, wherever and whenever. Especially when we're waiting- in the car for the traffic light to turn green and at the pick-up station of Coffee Bean for our coffees. It's his way of displaying affection in public.

Hmmm, actually, I much prefer the playful nose tap than all the hugging & kissing in public.

Perhaps, what those women magazines say is true. Your most ugly feature is your most striking and attracive feature to others. I've always thought my nose to be horribly squished, flat and flared. But Mr. J finds it completely cute.

My lesson for today, "Be happy with the face you have. It's the only face you have".

Moving on

My parents have finally decided to sell the house we've been living in for the past 3 decades.

I'm sad at their decision to move as I love this house. It's the house I grew up in -we moved in when I was 5 years old. It's the house where we had countless birthday parties, Christmas parties, CNY gatherings, the whole clan sleeping over. It's filled with good times, good memories, good parties, family gatherings, family stopovers whenever relatives pass by KL on their way to other states.

When we first moved in, I had to stand tiptoe at my bathroom sink and stretch my arms to turn on the tap, just to brush my teeth. Now, I have to lean down to the same sink whenever I wash my face or brush my teeth.

My parents are planning to buy a new house by the lake. And I don't feel right moving into the new house with them. I don't want to abandon this house for another.

Over the past 2 years, I've been contemplating moving out and getting my own apartment. I guess this is the right time for me to get my own place. It's time I live by myself, have my own space where I buy my own furniture, decorate my place however I want, cook my own meals without someone critiquing my cooking all the time.

By getting my own space, I'd be entering a completely different sphere in my life. This is so exciting.

Let's get physical

Last night, Mr. J and I did our first movie date. Knowing me a true chocoholic, he booked two tickets for "Charlie & The Chocolate Factory". I had a good time, giggling watching the 5 kids going google-eyed at the chocolate factory, the chocolate stream and the ompah-loopahs.

Over the past few weeks, I realised that Mr. J & I enjoy each other's company tremendously. He makes me laugh. I love listening to his stories about his work, childhood and school days. We tease each other good-naturedly on everything. We put each other in a happy mood. We are amused by the stories we exchange. Slowly, I'm discovering other facets of his personality and his life.

After the movie, he drove me back to his place to hang out, drink wine and chat about a million things. This morning, I woke up with his arms around me. I could hear his heart beating rhythmically and steadily.

It was still dark and I was lying peacefully on his chest. Random thoughts flitted in and out quietly in my head. And I decided that I'm not going to deny the crazy, intense physical and sexual attraction between us anymore.

Mr. J and I agreed to go take a STD test tomorrow.

The Sweetest Thing

The most romantic things men have done in my life are:

1. Cooking breakfast.
2. Reaching for my hand in the middle of the night and holding it close to his heart, while I'm asleep.
3. Washing my hair.

Right now, I can only think of these 3 gestures. The other day, Mr. J asked me if I'd like to do a romantic dinner at a nice restaurant, off Jalan Ampang. And I realised that I don't need romantic dinners and gifts to be loved by a man. The 3 gestures listed above will do perfectly.

The sweetest thing he has done, so far, is to bring my hand to his lips and softly kiss them without breaking his gaze from my eyes.

Searching for Sour Power

Last month, I went to Gleneagles Intan Hospital for a medical checkup. On the way to the clinic, I was craving for KitKat and decided to stop at the chemist.

A cute packaging of a grimacing lion with steam coming out of its ears caught my eye. It says - Sour Power. Wow! Sour candy. Haven't had that in ages. There were apple, strawberry and cola flavours, and I chose my favourite candy flavour - apple.

While waiting in the clinic, I sneakingly ate thin sticks of the apple sour candy. It was a real delight! The sour tingling sensation on my tongue followed by the sweet apple taste was a real treat. To make myself inconspicuous, I had to break the sour candy sticks into tiny pieces, with the packet still in my bag. So, I wouldn't look like an idiot holding a long stick of candy in my mouth and slowly chewing it in. I felt like a child eating sneakingly in a classroom.

I've been craving for them ever since but I can't find them anywhere. I've searched at every candy aisle in every supermarket I've been to - Carrefour, Jusco, Cold Storage, etc. Even checked the cashier counters at newsagents.

Sigh, looks like I'll have to brave the manic traffic at Jalan Ampang to Gleneagle Intan Hospital for my monthly-PMS supply of Sour Candy.


Anyone know where I can get this candy?

Lamington kisses

Last Saturday, I went to Glenn's apartment to bake lamingtons after we reminisced over our uni days in Down Under. And for weeks after that, he and I were drooling for yummy lamingtons. Anyway, Glenn had to work on that day and he gave me the key to his apartment. Mr. J came along as he wanted to watch an old classic movie "Easy Rider" on Glenn's DVD player.

It's been years since I ate lamingtons and I was really excited about baking them. All week, I've been dreaming and craving for a lamington. So, I went over my collection of Australian Women's Weekly cookbooks and found a recipe for lamingtons. They're really easy to make. Bake a sponge cake and cut into 2 inch squares. Dip the squares in chocolate icing and coat it in desicated coconut. And voila! A perfectly iced lamington.

But icing them in chocolate icing is more like bathing a cake square in chocolate icing and then shaking off the excess icing gently before rolling it in dessicated coconut. It sounds easy but it was really messy. I had to lick the chocolate icing off my fingers before coating the cake square in coconut.

So, there I was in Glenn's kitchen, dipping cake squares in chocolate icing, licking chocolate from my fingers and rolling the chocolate coated cake square in coconut.

After icing about half the lamingtons, Mr. J came to the kitchen to check on me. That day, he looked so handsome in grey t-shirt and blue jeans. When he picked me from my house, I couldn't stop thinking, "Oh my god, he's sooo handsome today!"

We joked about how the cake slices had to take a chocolate bath before drying themselves on dessicated coconut to be lamingtons. It was a silly joke and I couldn't stop giggling when I dipped the next cake slice in chocolate icing. Then, I licked the chocolate icing from my fingers and coated the cake with coconut. He stood quietly watching me iced the cake. He was completely mesmerised.

I merely smiled at him and went on to repeat the 'ice cake-lick chocolate fingers-coat cake with coconut' process. After dipping the cake in chocolate, unexpectedly he took my right hand. Then, he looked at me while his soft lips nibbled my chocolate stained fingers. That was the most sexy sensation I ever had.

There were sparks jumping all over me, all over the ground. I was sparkly all over! His cheeks were flushed and he had this dreamy look on his face. And I thought, "Gal, this is your only chance". Quickly, I put the cake slice back on the kitchen counter.

I tilted my face up to him and kissed his lips. They were so soft and luscious! Just as I had always imagined them to be. And sweet, too! I was swooning in his arms. It was the perfect first kiss! Ahem, he is a mighty fine kisser.

We spent the rest of the afternoon, icing the rest of the cake squares with him licking my fingers and me kissing his lips after he licked my fingers. It was just so fun and erotic. I so wanted to take off his shirt and jeans but didn't want to spoil the spontaneous sexy-fun mood we were in. And I think he had the same thoughts as his hands didn't go beyond my clothes.

Later, when Glenn came home, he found not only a tray of lamingtons, but a note that says "Thanks a million, Glenn. Best lamingtons I've ever baked. XOXO" with my lip print. ;)

Rest in peace, Speed

My favourite CSI guy, Speed just died on TV an hour ago.

He's my favourtie guy of all three CSI series. He's so sweet, down-to-earth and has that certain vulnerability about him. He's someone I'd go out with. But he's dead now.

My heart broke when the bullet hit him and blood was gushing out of his mouth. Desperately, Horacio pleaded him to keep breathing. But Speed could only whimper, "I can't..." and took his last breath.

Tonight, I'm going to bed with a heavy heart.

Pompuan kretek

Last Friday, Paully & I joined Mr. J clubbing at Poppy. I'm no clubbing chica but Mr. J hasn't been clubbing for the past 2 months and was itching to go "check out the scene".

Things are boringly predictable at a nightclub. After 1/2 hour and 2 martinis, I was restless. Mr. J was getting into the clubbing groove with his clubbing "buddies". Paully bumped into an old uni mate and ended up the whole night, catching up on the missing years with him- basically, they were hollering into each other ears!

So, I was left with nothing to do and no one to talk to but to survey the crowd and debated with myself whether to order a martini rosso or lychee martini.

Luckily, this cute Eurasian guy (of Indonesian-Italian parentage) came up and tried to chat me up. He was funny alright with a good sense of humour but I wasn't interested in his boyish good looks or witty one-liners. I was very intrigued by his Sampoerna clove cigarettes or popularly known as kretek cigarettes. Out of sheer boredom and curiousity, I asked him for one.

Damn! They were absolutely GOOD! So good, that I went looking for Mr. Euro-Indon the whole night, (after he has left me) just for another wonderful clove cigarette. The kretek cigarette left a spicy sweetness on my lips. After a puff, my lips were delightfully sweet and I couldn't stop licking them. I was enjoying myself, puffing and licking my lips all night. It was a sweet treat from a fag!

Later, Mr. J found me, sitting at the bar alone enjoying my kretek cigarette and martini rosso. He was apologetic about leaving me alone but I was intoxicated from a bizarre sugar-alchohol high. And I couldn't stop gushing to him about the wonderful kretek cigarettes.

J, they're really good. When I lick my lips, they are sooooo sweet! You should try them, really...

He simply leaned over to my ear and replied softly that he'd like to taste my sweet lips. Instantly, my heart jolted and I felt a warm, gooey fluid awashed over me.

But I could only take his hand and told him that we should go look for Paully.


Pompuan = woman
Kretek = clove cigarette