Cupcake Queen

Journeying to the self

2007-12-26T16:50:00.000+08:00

Merry christmas, everyone! Joyeux Noël!

Last night, I had dinner with Mr.J and his family. For me, it was a quiet dinner as I was too exhausted (from crazy christmas cake orders) to hold a proper conversation. Only spent the rest of the night, gazing into Mr. J's eyes coz it's been ages since we sat down together for dinner. I truly missed him. Both of us were in our little own bubble while his family and friends ate and yakked away in the same room.

Looking back, 2007 has been a spiritual journey of some sort for me.

I rediscovered the joys of quieting my mind with meditating. A few years back, I kept up a daily routine of meditating but it fizzled off after awhile. In June, I had a identity crisis where I constantly questioned myself on taking this path of making it on my own with this cake decor business. I learnt that it's much easier to be a nay-sayer than to be a creator of your own life and make your dreams happen.

One evening, I was ruminating and sulking when instinctively I reached for a book, which I had for years but forgotten, on manifesting your true desires by Sonia Choquette. In the book, she advocates a daily routine of meditating for 15 minutes to calm your mind and to stop all worrying thoughts.

Now, when I wake up in the morning I spend 15 minutes, taking deep cleansing breaths to refresh my mind and repeat the same step before going to bed. It works wonders. I'm calmer, more observant and happier.

One thing led to the other and soon, I found myself learning about chakras and other exercises to develop my intuitive side. It's a gradual learning process. Situations and things work out whenever I trust and act on my instincts.

I've gotten myself a chakra clearing CD which I listen to everyday. Strange but true, I actually felt my chakras 'vibrating' whenever I imagine them as different coloured balls whirling in different parts of my body. By balancing and clearing my chakras, I learnt to let go of all worries and fears about the future. As a result, I'm happier and more relaxed.

Chakras? Meditating? It is all very new-agey but who cares? They work for me.

Am looking forward to 2008.

~ Peace, love and joy to all my readers ~

On the move

2007-12-10T05:50:00.000+08:00

I'm moving to a new place.

Moving to a new neighbourhood. This new place has a view, better security and it's close to Mr. J's place.

Never mind the choc-a-bloc traffic during peak time. Never mind that I'd be farther away from the family. Never mind that I have to pay toll to go to KL. Never mind that I'd have to start my life all over again.

I can't wait. It's a new beginning.

I smell a bridezilla

2007-11-09T08:49:00.001+08:00

This is my first annoying customer rant post.

Yeah, I need to vent about this customer who has sent me 5 emails on the delivery of a birthday cake.

- What time are you coming? Tell me when you are coming?
After she has given me the time and place in the previous email.

- Can you please tie the box with a ribbon? Please tie the box tightly or put in a big plastic bag so it won't overturn accidentally.
I tie my cake boxes securely with a ribbon.

- Are you coming to X ?
I begin to suspect she has short-term memory.

- How much is the cake? It's RMXX, right?
Aargh. I've already stated price, type of cake, icing, weight and delivery date in the order confirmation.

I'm secretly hoping that this will be the first and last order from her. She reminds me of crazy nutty clients in my last workplace who would pop up last minute changes just before I step out of the office at 9pm.

Imagine, if she orders a wedding cake from me. *shudders*

It's not bad as you think

2007-10-30T06:52:00.000+08:00

Sometimes in the quiet of the night, Mr. J and I would pour ourselves a glass of beer and chat. More like catching with each other with our busy work schedules.

Last week, he asked if I ever felt lonely. I was really surprised when he asked.
- What do you mean, really?
- I mean, you hardly go out. Your phone hardly rings. Your social life is too quiet.
- What's wrong with that?
-It's just that I wish you have a fuller social life but you seem happy and contended. Doing your own thing. Sometimes, I worry about that. You don't have many girlfriends.

I do but they are scattered across the globe and I've one true girlfriend in KL.

I must admit that my social circle of friends has dwindled over the years. My dearest friends are overseas - New York, Hong Kong, London and Singapore. And those are my closest friends I've always kept close to my heart. And when our paths cross, we'd naturally pick up from our last meeting point, regardless of time and distance spaced out between us. No awkward silences. Just full of non-stop chatter, laughter and catching up. I cherish those friendships so much because they feel so easy, comfortable and natural. Like putting on a pair of old broken-in jeans. Over the years, I learnt that true friends take time to develop. They don't demand anything of you. They come to you and you don't go out seeking for them.

I must also admit that it's hard for me to find that kind of special friendship here in KL. Outwardly, I am very sociable and chatty, but inwardly, I'm intensely private and like to keep certain things like my relationship and family background privy only to those close to me.

And those who are close to me I can count with one hand.

I have one close girlfriend in KL and it's strange how we meet like twice in a year. And yet, everytime we meet up, we have so much to talk and tell each other. Ellie is one girl I can relate to. I met her at my last workplace and both of us share many things - love art, appreciate beautiful things, cherish our families, have similar views on men and relationship.

There was a time when I actually tried to make some "girlfriends". This was after watching too much Sex & the City and I felt inadequate - not having a group of girlfriends. But the forced friendships were contrived, unnatural and superficial. The girls I met turned out to be toxic bitches in the end. Now I've accept that perhaps, at this stage of my life, I'd only have one true friend in KL.

But in place of the non-existent social life, I found myself getting to know my extended family members. I've ample time to visit my cousins and their babies, bake birthday cakes for my relatives, have lunch with cousin Annie. It made me closer to my extended family and sometimes, I'd announce to people that my family include the 30-odd relatives from my mum's clan.

My uncles have helped me so much in giving me advice on getting property, setting up my business, car problems, diy fix-ups, all the manly stuff. Aunts has been imparting me with their wisdom on how to sustain a marriage, how to get the man to treat you with respect, how to be a lady, parenthood (not applicable at the moment, though), how to get your man to listen to you without the constant nagging. All these life skills I couldn't have gotten from any self-help manuals.

Even with a non-existing social life, I'm perfectly happy with one girlfriend in KL, the global girlfriends and my mum's clan. Plus work and books to read fill up my time nicely and going out with Mr. J.

"Count your blessings. Be happy with what you've got."

That's how I live through this non-existing social life period.

Dresses in waiting

2007-10-16T17:28:00.000+08:00

I just realised last week that I absolutely hate clothes shopping. I'd rather shop for furniture/household/decor things. They are so much easier to shop as they give more value per usage.

To me, clothes shopping means buying a dress for an occasion - weddings or functions; which also means parting a huge chunk of my hard-earned money for a dress I'd probably wear only once.

I'm dead fussy when it comes to buying that one dress.

It has to fit. I have to like the design. The colour must be flattering to my skintone. The design must be classic/versatile enough to withstand fashion trends. And I must love it so much that I can't bear to walk of the shop without the dress.

Eureka shopping moments are such rarity that they happen once in a blue moon. As a result, I've dresses that I've bought and regulated to the wardrobe, waiting to be worn. Some not worn in years.

When I attended Laine's wedding a few months ago, she asked what was I going to wear? I replied, a green baby doll dress which I bought from Zara that has been hanging in my wardrobe in the past 2 years.

I clearly remember buying that Zara dress because I absolutely loved the moss green paisley cloth design of the dress. I bought it even though I hadn't any occasion to wear it at that time. And the green Zara dress sat in my wardrobe for 2 years before a suitable occasion came along.

Last week, I was looking for a suitable dress to wear for a wedding banquet dinner. I found a really nice dress at Eclipse - bottle green cocktail dress with black lace cape sleeves. It fitted well and I liked the colour and design but the hem was fraying a bit. And I was not willing to pay RM470 for a dress that was fraying a little. I was a little upset when I left the shop as I had 2 weeks to find a dress.

I was chatting with a friend online today and lamented to him on how I've a wedding dinner next week and nothing to wear. He (my arty gay friend) suggested a cheongsam. Suddenly I remember having a gorgeous pale orange chiffon cheongsam with silver sparkly flower motif (which I've never worn) hanging in my wardrobe in the past 5 years.

Quickly, I went to my wardrobe and and tried on the cheongsam. It was perfect! Just the right dress to attend a formal wedding dinner held at a swank hotel (plus the bride's parents are terribly traditional Chinese).

Let's go

2007-09-24T16:13:00.000+08:00

Last Thursday, I accompanied Mr. J to the opening of Parkson at the Pavilion.

It was all la-di-da socializing, sipping wine, nibbling bite-size food and sitting restlessly through a mind-numbing fashion show.

Not one who enjoy the pretentious social crowd, I attended as Mr. J's companionable partner. He knows how much I detest all the superficial talk and meeting people who publicly attach their worth to materialism. Every now and then, he'd break away from his conversation and look my way and wink/grin.

Admist all the glitz, glamour and ostentatiously dressed crowd, I did meet some really nice people there - a lovely Swiss couple who entertained me with quirky, interesting stories of meeting loopy artists and witnessing hopelessly vulgar artwork sold at astronomic prices at the annual Art Basel in Switzerland.

Halfway through the fashion show, I whispered to Mr. J,

- I so want to go to the Art Basel.

- Uh, what?

- The Art Basel in Switzerland. I met a Swiss couple. They told me of the Art Basel. Interesting stuff. It's the greatest art fair in the world.

- Really? You want to go?

- Yeah. I'm thinking of...

- Ok, let's go.

And he got up and pulled my hand and we worked our way out of the long row of seated socialites. We promptly left and went home.

He only heard me utter the word 'go'.

Crushes

2007-09-11T20:28:00.000+08:00

Been too busy to blog. I even have to jot 'do laundry, trim and paint nails' in my pocket dairy.

So I'm going to do a quick a tag from Karen Cheng's blog as I've no freaking idea what to do post.

Anyway, here goes my teenage crushes:

Age 12 : Simon Le Bon of Duran Duran

Age 15 : Johnny Depp in 21 Jump Street

Age 17: Keanu Reeves

Age 19: Jude Law (before Sienna Miller)

Currently : Clive Oven and Matthew MacFayden. ( Can't stop watching 'King Arthur' & 'Pride and Prejudice' over and over)

Have Victoria, will travel

2007-08-29T14:26:00.000+08:00

After hearing of how I didn't wear my bikinis or lazed by the beach during my trip to Samui, Mr. J decided to take me to Seychelles in October.

I'm sooo excited except that the bikinis I have are like 10 years old from uni days in Ozland. No kidding, they are THAT old but in good shape and still stretchable. I have 2 bikini sets - indigo blue Brian Rochford triangle and turquoise Zimmerman halter-top.

I thought it was time I get myself new bikinis. After seeing photos of sexy Marisa Miller showing off her va-va-voom surfer's body in Victoria Secret website, I succumbed to buying 3 bikini sets from their website.

I'm very excited. Am still waiting for my bikinis to arrive from the post. I should get them 2 weeks before our first island holiday. Woohoo!

Check out my new bikinis. I really loved how the blue and green bikinis blend nicely against the sea background. Decided to get the red halter set at the last minute as J likes me in red.

*All photos below are from Victoria Secret's website

Reclaiming my feminine privilege

2007-08-09T17:07:00.000+08:00

My sense of style goes through a phase where I'd like one style and wear the same outfit every single day and buy the same thing for months and sometimes, a year. I'm not one of those women who have an extensive wardrobe. No, I don't get bored wearing the same thing everyday for months as it solves the headache of what to wear to work.

For the past 12 months, I've been wearing the same outfit of white puff sleeves button-up top with pants (black, grey or khaki). And I've got a collection of white puff sleeves tops from Zara, MNG, Raoul, Top Shop and Dorothy Perkins. Those white tops which I love so much and wear them every work day varies in different white tone and material.

I've been wearing this white puff sleeve top-pants combo outfit for more than a year already. Even Mr. J has resorted to calling me Alice after Disney's version of Alice in a blue puff sleeve dress with white apron.

However, lately I've a good reason to stick to the puff sleeve top and pants outfit as my place has been infested with mosquitoes. There are two construction sites next to my apartment.

Everyday is a daily battle of combating those pesky little mosquitoes. Sometimes, I forget to burn the citronella essential oil and those damn mosquitoes would have a bloody fest on my calves. They always go for my calves, don't know why. Those damn bites are so itchy that I'd scratch them until they bleed, leaving unsightly little scabs on my calves.

Last week, I saw the most gorgeous print wrap dress at Nafnaf. The blue-purple-grey colours and motifs of the dress reminded me of a Klimt painting. I tried it on and it fitted really well. The wrap dress hugged every curve of my body and draped over my bustline just nice- not too low nor too tight.

Today I decided to heck the tiny scabs on my legs and wore the Klimt wraparound dress. Mr. J couldn't stop grinning when I met him for lunch at KLCC. Gosh, his cheeks slowly turned pink and he couldn't take his eyes off me.

With his admiring gaze, suddenly, I sat up straighter and felt utterly like a woman.

Boy, we hadn't lunch like this for ages. We were laughing and flirting with each other - lots of coy glances, his leg stretching out to accidentally brush mine, licking our lips after chewing/drinking while gazing into each other's eyes.

Both of us ended lunch completely flushed with giddy happiness. My body was tingly all over. I felt many tiny little sparks in my fingers and toes.

Ooh la la, we could have an afternoon session of hot lusty sex at The Mandarin if not for his urgent work matters.

Indeed, that is the power of a dress - my feminine privilege.

I shall wear a dress, every now and then, to remind me and Mr. J of the insane chemistry we still have for each other. ;)

Guinness magic

2007-07-25T20:35:00.000+08:00

It's been raining every night for the past week. It gets frigidly chilly in the middle of the night with the unusually big drop of temperature in this hot tropical weather.

Mr. J and I have been fighting this tug-of-blanket-war every night for the past week, resulting in me waking up in a sulking bad mood the next morning. And him leaving for work slightly miffed because we didn't have our daily morning banter-teasing-chatter.

Yesterday evening, I texted him to get me a large bottle of Guinness Stout before leaving his workplace at KLCC. He like all mere males, texted back < Whr to get them? In Menara Maxis?>

< Get them frm Cold Storage - opp KFC, next 2 Burger King >

< Oops, sorry. Forgot abt that ;) >

Last night, I slowly savoured the dark creamy stout while reminiscing of my late Ah Kung who drank his prequisite Guinness every Friday night while listening to Ella Fitzgerald jazz records.

And sure enough the pint of Guinness worked like a charm, warming my body and making me sleepy to slowly doze off. Last night, I slept like an angel and didn't grumble in my sleep when Mr. J tugged the blanket off me. And best of all, I woke up with him snuggled tightly to me.

*Ah Kung means grandfather in cantonese

Ain't no beach babe

2007-07-10T17:06:00.000+08:00

Two weeks ago, I was enjoying the sea breeze, walking along Chaweng Beach at Koh Samui. As much as I love the beach, I can't be the beach babe in her bikini who lazes all day, with sand between her toes, sipping an icy cold mango fruit shake while luxuriating by the beach.

I brought two sets of bikini with me to Samui and didn't even once wore them. Perhaps, I was alone and after seeing gwai-los armed with Thai prostitutes, I'd rather not risk any chances of chatting up or being friendly with them. I could only allow myself to let my guard down with the men at Laine's wedding party. However, the local Thai folk are friendly and always smiling. Everytime I walked past the hotel's guard house, the smiley guard would wave and wish me, "Sawadee krap!" and I'd grin back, "Sawadee ka."

Not the beach babe, I just had to do something during my week-long stay at Samui. So I enrolled in the 3-day fruit carving course at the local Samui International Thai Culinary Arts, also known Sitca. During my first 3 days at Samui, I woke up early, at around eight, to have a hearty American breakfast at the local Khao San restaurant/bakery where friendly young Thai waiters served me. After a leisurely hour of breakfast, I'd head back to the beach and walk along Chaweng Beach to Sitca. It was a good half-hour walk. I now have a tan from all the walking by the beach.

Fruit carving class was super-fun. I learnt how to hold and angle a carving knife and learnt bits and pieces about local Thai culture from my instructor, Kim a sweet 25 year old Thai girl. After completing the course, I was stuck at Laine's wedding villa for the next 3 days, completing the mammoth task of baking and decorating her wedding cake.

After all the wedding excitement and holiday enjoyment (shopping, drinking, dining, staying out late and waking up late) I didn't realise how exhausted I was until I came home. I was completely knackered for the past week, really tired to the bone.

Perhaps, doing nothing and luxuriating by the beach would have been a better way to spend my holiday. Hmm.. nah, I think my toes would start wriggling and I'd start to get fidgety and restless.

Yep, I ain't no beach babe.

* From top - Carved watermelon flower, vegetable plate cravings, mini mock cake of Laine's cake (sorry, no photos of the actual cake as I had too many cocktails on the night of the wedding party)

Overseas cake mission status- Accomplished

2007-07-04T18:35:00.000+08:00

I just got back from Thailand. Laine's wedding was a blast - full of laughter, meeting old school/uni friends, getting to know her family members, delicious finger food, endless round of yummy cocktails and flirting with nice looking men (Mr. J couldn't come).

I was so honoured to be Laine's official wedding cake designer. Yeah, I did the unthinkable- lugged 10kgs of baking tools and ingredients all the way to Thailand to perform the mammoth task of baking a 3-tiered wedding cake from scratch. It was sheer madness as I was working round the clock for 3 days before the wedding- baking, icing and assembling the wedding cake.

After the wedding, I was dead tired that I booked myself for those wonderful Thai body massage. Highly recommended - icy cool aloe vera full-body massage which was so relaxing and orgasmic.

Some memorable moments from Laine's wedding:
* Gucci in disguise
Some snooty tai-tai from Hong Kong commented on my new pair of bronze peep-toe heels as I took my heels from the shoe rack to wear them to the poolside.

" Oh, that's a lovely pair of shoes. Is that Gucci?" (said in posh Brit accent)
" Oh, no. It's VINCCI."

I guessed she must have caught a glimpse of my VINCCI shoe label and assumed it was Gucci.

* My first cigar puff
Laine's dad and father-in-law were happily puffing away on Cuban cigars near the bar when I sauntered to the bar for another drink. They were both kind enough to offer me a puff when I asked how does it taste. My god. It was the most disgusting thing I've ever smoked. Vomit immediately came up to my mouth that I had to dash off to the bathroom.

* Champagne is highly overrated.
I wonder what's the fuss over champers, really. They tasted quite bland. Give me a fruity sparkling pink rosé anytime. Very dissapointed with my first sip of champagne.

Cake decorating DNA

2007-06-08T18:17:00.000+08:00

For the past 2 weeks, I've been house-sitting my parent's house as the rest of the family have joined the clan on a trip to the Silk Road. Much as I would love to see Tibet and North-West China, I declined the holiday invitation as the idea of holidaying with 20-odd relatives would be too close for comfort. Just imagine having to put up with, at times, naggy aunts, grumbling uncles, naughty little cousins and bored teenaged cousins. Well, you get the idea - a pretty stressful family holiday.

Anyway, my mum left a stack of old cookbooks from (her teaching days as a home science teacher )and some really old 'Tala' decorating tips for me before she left for the airport. Among the cookbooks are two tattered cake decorating booklets which I remember, as a child, spending hours gazing and dreaming of those beautifully decorated cakes with lovely pink roses and sweet pastel pipings. Those Tala decorating tips are ancient- they were made in the 60s. I've searched the internet and true enough, they are classified as vintage cake decorating tools.

I've grown up with my mum baking and decorating my birthday cakes. As a child, I've always looked forward to every birthday occasion in the family because Mummy is going to bake the birthday boy/girl a beautiful cake.

I feel lucky to inherit her cake decorating genes. And I shall carry on the cake decor tradition for the next generation as cakes are happiness!

My Francophonie week

2007-05-30T19:13:00.001+08:00

It's the French Film Festival week!

Both GSC cinemas in the Klang Valley are screening seven wonderful french films. I went a little crazy last Sunday. Watched two films in a row- La Science des Reves and La Mome and they were both brilliant! Loved the eccentric bizarre story of La Science des Reves and the heart-wrenching tragic life story of the legendary French diva, Edith Piaf in La Mome.

And that's not all, for the past two days I've been sneaking off in the afternoons to catch a French film. Both were hilariously funny - Fauteuils D'Orchestre and Mon Meilleur Ami.

Ooh la la, I just love love love French films.

Today, I went to the Alliance Francaise to return long-overdue French books but unfortunately the library was temporarily closed. So I headed to the Gourmandines Restaurant there for lunch.

I was greeted by the French restaurant manager and because I replied in French, he proceeded to take my order 'en francais'. The waiter-customer order-taking 'en francais' sailed smoothly until I was stumped as how to ask him what juice flavour he has. I merely stared blankly at him for a few seconds until he prompted, "Orange? Carrot? Apple?" and then it all came back to me, "Quel jus de fruits avez-vous, s'il vous plait?"

Gee, the last time I spoke French was a year ago in France. Mental note to self - Got to enrol in French classes.

Sigh, I still have everyday moments when I catch myself reminiscing of my France trip.

France, tu me manque beaucoup!

* Quel jus de fruits avez-vous, s'il vouz plait? - What fruit juice have you got, please?
* France, tu me manque beaucoup! - I miss you so much, France.
(* Images taken from www.gsc.com.my)

Back!

2007-05-24T15:01:00.000+08:00

Gosh, I didn't realise that it's been 2 months since my last post and my site hit has reached 20,000! Anyway, I'm back. Needed to a break badly as I had to deal with some niggling issues in my life.

During my hiatus, I followed "The Artist's Way" program; a 12-week program created by creativity guru, Julia Cameron who teaches one how to live a more creative and fulfilled life.

Many years ago, I took a creative writing course in uni and both my writing tutors highly recommended "The Artist's Way" to everyone in class. I had the book for almost a decade and still follow some exercises recommended by the author, Julia Cameron. One exercise which I still do religiously is the morning pages, which is basically writing on longhand three A4 pages, first thing in the morning. All good thoughts, bad thoughts, cranky thoughts, hopeful thoughts, wishful thoughts, fearful thoughts end up documented in three pages. The Morning Pages have worked as I've accumulated a 3-feet high Morning Pages journals written over the years.

When I started the cake biz, I had both good and negative reactions from people I know. Somehow, earlier this year, the naysayers got louder and appeared more frequently in my life while I was struggling on a steep and slippery learning curve.

At times, I fought back and set boundaries but I found myself wasting precious time and energy defending my dream. Soon, I got caught up in the negative spiral of being angry, defensive and mad with all discouraging remarks and negative presence from contaminating people.

I had wanted to so badly take off and run away from all my problems. Go visit France. Or maybe I should have a short break at Bali, Koh Samui. I dunno. I just want to get away from it all!

I spent weeks wallowing and moping, plagued with negative, self-defeating thoughts- Maybe I'm not cut out to be an entrepreneur. Who am I kidding myself, really? Why am I doing this?

One morning, while cleaning my bookshelf, my eyes keep glancing back at The Artist's Way. It was as if my instincts kept prodding me to go open and read the book.

Some life lessons I gained from "The Artist's Way":

- I just have to bake and decorate cakes today,even if I don't feel like it.
- Do whatever it takes today to get back on track - bake, write, draw, etc.
- For now, I need to keep quiet on my biz plans.
- Choose to surround myself with people who believe in me.

Thank you, Julia Cameron for your wonderful book. You are my life saviour.

* Photos of sugar orchids made for Laine's wedding cake.

Perseverance, perseverance, perseverance

2007-03-23T18:12:00.000+08:00

For the past two weeks, I've been trudging up a very steep curve, sometimes slipping two steps back and picking myself up with a stronger resolve to try harder the next time.

And it's all got to do with orchids.

Yeah, orchids.

You see, my best friend, Laine has bestowed me with the honour of making her wedding cake ever since she learnt of my newly acquired cake decorating skills. She asked and I said yes and we both got very excited at the prospect of me doing her wedding cake.

For her, it's your best friend making your wedding cake. For me, it's going to be my very FIRST wedding cake. You can't imagine how thrilled I was when she asked if I could make her wedding cake. I was practically leaping with joy!

We've discussed and I agreed to make a two-tiered cake with her favourite flower - orchids.

I swear they are not the easiest sugar flower to make. It took me a week to figure out how to join the flower parts (throat, petals and base) together. And this week, I've been teaching myself how to colour them with food chalk colouring.

I must say I'm still on a very steep learning curve because after two weeks of trying, I'm still stuck with a really ugly batch of sugar orchids.

Now, I gotta get back and make more orchids.

I gotta keep at it. I gotta keep at it. I gotta keep at it...

Little Miss Sanrio

2007-03-07T14:33:00.000+08:00

Last month, I received a request for a Hello Kitty birthday cake. A friend had asked me to bake a vanilla butter cake topped with strawberries and a Hello Kitty figurine (see last entry). It was the one order which I delved into enthusiastically because I once obsessed over Hello Kitty and other Sanrio characters - Little Twin Stars and My Melody.

I think I was 9 nine years old and the Atria then housed a Japanese departmental store called Kimisawa. It was end of the year school holidays and my classmates agreed to meet at Atria for someone's birthday. Whose birthday it was, I couldn't remember but I do remember jumping with joy upon discovering those whimsical Sanrio stickers. It was a special edition of scratch & sniff stickers with gorgeous scents like gardenia, ice cream soda, chocolate, raspberry, rose and jasmine, to name a few.

I was such an avid collector that I had a little clear holder to hold my stickers. I also remember slotting the stickers back into their original plastic case after holding them under my nose for a good whiff. I daren't scratch them as I didn't want to lose those lovely scents. The scents were so powerful that my sticker holder smelt of a wonderful mishmash of sweet scents. All in all, I had a total of 16 Sanrio scratch & sniff stickers.

I still remember saving half of my $5 monthly pocket money to buy Sanrio stickers which cost $2.20 each. At the end of the month, I'd badger my parents to make a trip to Kimisawa or Printemps (at Yow Chuan Plaza) to get another scratch & sniff sticker for my Sanrio collection.

Of course, after 20 years, those sweet scents are all gone but they are still lovely to look at.

Hmm, I see some whimsical designs that can be translated onto my cakes.

A quick one

2007-02-12T23:43:00.000+08:00

Just a quick entry. Too busy to blog. All baking activities have been resheduled to after 7pm as we're in the midst of a bloody heatwave. My apartment is a giant furnace in the afternoons if I bake. I already can't stand the dry pre-CNY heatwave.

Photo of my latest cake. Yep, I made the Hello Kitty figurine. Am mighty proud of myself. :P

Chocolate, chocolate, chocolate

2007-01-23T15:52:00.000+08:00

When I was five years old, I had my first real chocolate taste when my dad went to Europe on a business trip. He sent me a Big Ben postcard from London which he wrote, "Be good. Read your story books. Papa is coming home with lots of chocolates." And came home he did, with bags and bags of chocolates - giant Smarties tubes, milk chocolate bars, Belgian gourmet chocolates and forbidden boxes of miniature chocolate liquor bottles.

For weeks after dad's return, my sister, brother and I had endless access to the chocolate stash in the fridge. One evening, after dinner, I thought I'd very much like to try one of those miniature chocolate liquor bottles which my mum vehemently forebade us to touch. There wasn't anyone in the kitchen. Quickly, I grabbed one chocolate liquor bottle and unwrapped the foil and popped it in my mouth.

At first, I tasted normal chocolatey stuff and wondered what was the fuss over this piece of chocolate. Then, the thin chocolate crunched on my tongue and a cool liquid flowed and tingled my tastebuds. It was too strange a taste for a five year old and I remember wanting to spit it out but instead, I kept swirling my tongue and the chocolate bits melted with the cool bitter liquor.

Soon, I was on a culinary mission of sneaking one chocolate liquor bottle whenever noone's in the kitchen and secretly discovering different flavours - cognac, whisky, midori, kahlua. Some tasted really foul, but I remember being fascinated with the sensation of cool bitter liquid that gushed on my tongue when the chocolate broke and that enhanced bittersweet flavour of chocolate & liquor.

And that started my fascination with chocolate. The real stuff. Dark, bittersweet decadent chocolate that tasted absolutely divine. Whenever I fly overseas, I'd hunt for those decadent chocolate liquor bottles at duty-free shops. I'd buy a box or two and look forward to savouring one mini bottle after dinner at home.

Beside those chocolate liquor bottles, I also like Kit Kat, Toblerone, Nestle's Old Jamaica, Cadbury's Raisin & Nut Milk Chocolate. Ferrero Rocher and After Eight mints. Two other chocolate which I often dream of tasting because I can't get them in Malaysia- Cherry Ripe from Australia and Nestle Yorkie Raisin & Biscuit from UK.

Sometimes, I add some Valhorna chocolate pieces to my Milo drink to give it an extra rich chocolatey taste. I also like to add a few Toblerone triangles to my morning oats for that special chocolatey almond honey flavour.

Life is so much more interesting with chocolate. I just can't imagine living a single day without them. :P

Life lessons

2007-01-08T17:39:00.000+08:00

Looking back, 2006 was a year of taking chances on living my best life. There were several lessons along the way.

However, the one biggie- silence is golden. As trite as it it is, keeping quiet on issues close to my heart is the one big golden step to making dreams come true.

When I got back with Mr. J, I told no one, not even friends. When I broke up with him in October 2005, they wilingly told me what they honestly thought of him. I was sorely disappointed to hear their negative comments as half the comments were baseless. I knew him better than them. He was the one guy who brought out the best in me although I broke up with him for his partying ways. He's still partying every other Friday night but has compromised by having breakfast with me the next day.
Lesson learnt - Friends don't always give good advice.

When I made up my mind to go to London/France early last year, I told no one except for my mum. One month before leaving, I informed friends and clients of my trip which resulted in several scare-mongering responses. I found them all ridiculous as they, in the first place, have not even been to London or France. The answer was always "Oh, you know, someone I knew had that bad experience" when I asked if the experience was first-hand.
Lesson learnt - Follow your bliss. It's your dream after all, not theirs.

When I decided to try the cake business, I thought, I should go ahead and do it. Start small and build slowly. Learn from mistakes with each order. Take it one cake a day. However, the responses I got from people when they learnt about my cake business were bafflingly negative. "Why are you doing this? Do you know how many bakeries they are out there? The cost is so high. Your day job is paying well. Why do you want to waste time doing this?" I just merely shrugged and carried on making more cakes as responses from my customers were positively encouraging.
Lesson learnt - When the naysayers get louder, it's a sign you are doing things right.

A blissful year

2006-12-31T10:13:00.000+08:00

It has been a wonderful year, simply because I followed my bliss.

I've no regrets of making the trip to France. I still wake up in the mornings, seeing myself walking along the gorgeous beachfront Boulevard des Anglais in Nice, hurrying to the Anvers Metro stop in Paris to catch the train, strolling in and out art galleries. Sigh! I love France.

I finally bit the bullet and quietened that insistent voice that has been nagging me for years to start the cake business. Things are looking up. Orders are coming in, especially with children's birthday cakes. I thank my lucky stars that I've got friends with toddler aged children.

The past few months has been crazy busy. In between cake decor class, I managed to bake and decorate cakes, on top of my regular day job.

Here's wishing all a wonderful year ahead in 2007. ;)

Happy new year, everyone!

Bedtime stories

2006-11-28T18:05:00.000+08:00

Every night, I'd read a book or magazine as part of my bedtime ritual. I usually last about 4-5 pages before my eyelids start drooping and slowly, I doze off to slumberland.

Sometimes, I wake up in the middle of the night, with my arm hanging over the edge of the bed, my hand still gripping the book. At times, the book would fall off my hand and land on the floor, waking me up momentarily. Or I'd wake up in the middle of the night to find the book jutting my body uncomfortably.

Last night, I did the usual nightly read and fell asleep with the book in my hand. Later, I felt a gentle tug on my book. It woke me up and immediately I pulled back the book.

"Don't... I still want to read, " I muttered.

He chuckled, "Go to sleep, darling..."

"No, I still w-a-n-t to reaad..." I grumbled sleepily.

I was still muttering and grumbling when he clambered onto bed. Next, he pulled me in his arms and told me a bedtime story, which I hadn't had in years.

"Once a upon a time, there was this hot chicka named CQ. She has the sweetest smile that could break a thousand hearts... dainty hand.... tiny feet... met at Bangsar... "

I don't know how the story ended as his voice softly lulled me back to sleep.

Living, breathing and sleeping cakes

2006-11-20T16:24:00.001+08:00

Ever since I made the decision to go ahead with the cake thing, my daily life now consists of a routine of baking cakes and cookies, sourcing for baking supplies and equipment and spending my free time surfing for info on baking-related matters.

I now live, breathe and sleep cakes. I even dream cakes!

Last week, I had a vague dream of buying this huge-ass industrial strength oven. I can't remember the specifics of the dream but I woke up convinced that one day, I'll get myself that oven.

Hmm, a sign of all good baking things to come?

Month of Gluttony Feasting

2006-11-10T18:32:00.000+08:00

The monsoon season is well and truly here. It's been raining cats and dogs every evening bringing us cooler nights. And which also means a very hungry Cupcake Queen.

I'd wake up in the mornings with a rumbling tummy and I want my food now, now, now. Just feed me NOW!

This morning, I gobbled down a plate of nasi lemak followed by a bowl of hearty chocolate oats. By lunch, I was famished and sped to Mr. J's office at KLCC and dragged him to Pacifica Grill@Mandarin Oriental to devour lamb shanks. Hmm, I'm wondering if I should have Japanese for dinner as I type this.

Thank god for the Malaysian International Gourmet Fest, or rather the Month of Intense Gluttony Feasting- heh! I've been dining my way through MIGF's food events, almost every other night, since attending the MIGF Gala Night. All thanks to Mr. J who has loads of free invites. :)

Some tips for staying ladylike while feasting away:
1. Wear those beautiful floral, empire waist dresses, which are so in right now, to accomodate an expanding tummy. Plus floral prints can hide an obvious tummy.

2. Forget wearing bright lipstick/gloss - they come off easily. Nude lip tones and smoky eyes are great when you want to feast and look good.

3. Eat slowly. So that the rest of people at your dining table, whom you barely know, won't even suspect you're being a glutton.

4. When people start commenting on how you've polish everything on your plate, start talking about the food you've just had. Just plunge into a full foodie mode to divert their attention. Start a full discourse on flavours, herbs, spices, vegetables, type of meat cuts and etc.

5. Sip your glass of wine/beer s-l-o-w-l-y and after taking in at least 5 spoonfuls of food. Don't gulp the whole glass of wine/beer down or you'd be bloated and start burping like a bullfrog.

Go give me that elusive 'O'

2006-10-24T17:01:00.000+08:00

Last Saturday night, Mr. J flew in to New York for work.

A few days before his flight, he asked if I'd like something from his trip.

I thought really hard. What could I possibly want from the Big Apple? A luscious little cupcake from Magnolia Bakery would be excellent, except that it'd be a little soggy by the time it gets back to Malaysia.

I went to the newstand and consulted latest issues of InStyle and American Vogue to see if I'd needed anything from the Big Apple. Still nothing.

Just before he was about to leave his apartment to the airport, suddenly I remembered not getting THAT one item from Sephora in Paris a few months back.

Quickly I scribbled on a Post-It note and stuck it on his passport.

'Please get me NARS Orgasm blush from Sephora. And no, Sephora is not an erotica shop. ;) '

Busy with cakes

2006-10-24T08:06:00.000+08:00

Goodness, I've neglected this blog of mine for weeks. Seriously don't have the time coz I've been running around all over KL, sourcing for baking supplies and cake decorating equipment. And learning how to decorate cake. I'm proud to say I've taken the first step on becoming a cake decorater. (* Pic of my very first decorated cake. )

Anata wa Nippon-jin desu ka?

2006-10-11T18:06:00.000+08:00

Whenever I stay over at Mr. J's place, I'd pop to the minimart downstairs to get my supply of Belgium beer, Twisties, Japanese green tea ice-cream and instant soba noodles.

I love the tiny minimart as it stocks a good variety of Japanese and imported foodstuff and most importantly cheap imported beer like Ottinger, Bavaria, Marten Pils. Cheap beer for me is a can of beer cheaper than the unjustifiable RM7.00 price tag of the 'brewed in Thailand' Heneiken.

I'm now a regular at the minimart; the staff would acknowledge me with a friendly nod as I step into the shop.

Yesterday, the Ah-Neh store supervisor asked me if I were Japanese? Korean?

'No lah, saya orang sini lah.' (No, I'm local)

'Oh, aku ingat apa hal pompuan jepun ni selalu beli beer?' ( Oh, I was just wondering why this Japanese lady here always buy beer) he replied sheepishly.

I guess it must've been my mandatory purchase of instant soba noodles and green tea ice cream that got him thinking I'm Japanese. Plus my hard-to-tan fair complexion and small eyes.

I get mistaken for a Japanese nationality all the time and at any place. It doesn't matter which country I'm at -UK, Australia, Singapore, Hong Kong.

Once, I got a Japanese menu handed to me promptly at a Japanese restaurant in KL, much to my bafflement.

Hmm, maybe I should go take up Japanese again.

* Ah Neh - 'brother' in Tamil.
Anata wa Nippon-jin desu ka? - Are you Japanese?

Meeting Mrs. J

2006-10-02T17:23:00.000+08:00

All my life, I noticed a definite pattern of boyfriends.

1. They all come from all-boys siblings.
2. They are the eldest son.

For some strange reason, the men in my past and current life are the eldest son in all-boys family. I seriously think my sub-conscious picked them out for reasons unbeknownst to me.

And yes, Mr. J is the eldest son with a younger brother.

In the past, I've never had easy 'relations' with exes' mothers. They have never approved of my being the other female in their eldest sons' lives.

Last month, Mr. J asked me to meet his mother. With unpleasant memories of disapproving looks on my exes' mothers' faces, I was undoubtedly reluctant to meet his mother.

'Could we wait until I'm ready? All my exes' mothers hate me, you know.'

' Why? Glenn's mum loves you. Please, do this for me,' he'd plead quietly.

So after one lenghty discussion, I finally agreed but told him to not expect a smooth sailing event.

Last Sunday afternoon, I had dim-sum with the matriarch Mrs. J.

The night before, I was all nerves. I wrote down all the best diplomatic answers to intruding personal questions like marriage and babies. I had to keep reminding myself that it's not the end of the world if things do not go well. If it turns out badly, I'm off to Thailand for a short island holiday to restore my frazzled self.

After writing down my list of diplomatic answers, I couldn't sleep. I read and it didn't work. Watched some tv and I was still awake. After pottering around my apartment, I decided to paint my nails in the colour that will probably fail me in Mrs. J's eyes the following day. But I was strangely relaxed after transforming my nails into this deep shade of ruby red.

The next morning, I woke up, slightly impatient to get to the restaurant. I wanted the whole lunch affair to be over quickly. Just deal with it and be done with it.

At around noon, I was a little nervous as I stepped into the chinese restaurant. I scanned the floor, searching for a 50-something woman with a lilac top. However, she spotted me and waved. When I saw her, I heaved an inner sigh of relief because she looked like someone my own mother would befriend.

Mrs. J has an easy demeanour and a classic sense of dressing - very simple and elegant. She was very pleasant, had a warm smile and spoke well.

During lunch, she told me she had wanted to meet me because she was curious about her son's girlfriend. And she also mentioned that she completely understood why I was reluctant to meet her. (Earlier, I had told Mr. J of my rule of not meeting the parents until I'm ready)

Not once did she interrogated me on my relationship with Mr. J. Instead, we chatted of my trip to France and nyonya cuisine. Later we discovered we had something in common- Mrs. J schooled at my alma mater in KL.

Some interesting facts I learnt from Mrs. J :

1. Women who can cook are greatly revered in the clan.

2. Mr. J's family are deeply traditional with great ties to their Peranakan cultural values.

3. Unconditional love and acceptance are two things that I can use to make my relationship work.

And she liked my ruby red nails.

Hiatus

2006-09-16T19:52:00.000+08:00

It's been a long while since my last entry. Work is making me long for another H-O-L-I-D-A-Y real bad.

Some things in my life that has changed or rather what I've learnt about myself over the past few weeks.

1. I love cleaning my apartment floors after a long, tiresome day. Nothing beats the instant gratification of gliding my feet on shiny, clean floors.

2. I crave for coffee after dinner and later suffer from crazy hours of wakefulness.

3. I use my insominiac hours to read books from my forgotten must-read list that dates back to 1994.

4. My neighbours think I'm Mr.J's mistress - hahah.

5. I've overcome my phobia of swimming at night by imagining other swimmers as green merpeople.

Booking a day

2006-08-23T16:58:00.000+08:00

I've got a guilty little secret.

I've too many books on my reading lists. And as much as I love to devour books, I'd get distracted from my current read and move on to another book.

It's a neglectful reading habit which I'm guilty of - abandoning my current read and never getting round to finishing any book. Sometimes, I find myself overwhelmed with the growing tower of unread and unfinished books by my bedside.

So, I've decided to assign a different kind of book for each day of the week. Some sort of book theme for each day of the week to feed my need for a different variety of reading.

Monday is travel day because I get the horrible monday blues and yearn to escape from it all.

Tuesday is essay day. I love it how good essays can make me feel grounded with their universal truths that hit home.

Wednesday is classical day because I can't get myself to finish Jane Austen's Emma and Gustave Flaubert's Crime and Punishment.

Thursday is modern fiction day. Anything goes - Nick Hornby, Sophie Kinsella, etc.

Friday is poetry day. I love how words practically leap off the page with visual images.

Saturday is magazine day. Time to read my Oprah, Glamour and Vogue magazines.

Sunday is whatever I fancy day.

Oh, and any book recommendation is most welcomed. :)

Old is gold

2006-08-21T12:39:00.000+08:00

Look what I found yesterday at Amcorp Mall while nosing around at the flea market there.

Little gems of vintage cookbooks!

Yeah, they smell kind of musty and the slightly yellowed pages have splotches of brown stains. Some even have dog-eared pages. But I simply love the quirky illustrations of the 50s era. They are so cheerful and optimistic!

And the cakes! I love how the cakes are decorated in sweet pastel florals which you rarely see at cakeshops nowadays.

Some recipes crack me up with their funny titles. I couldn't stop giggling in utter delight. Hmm, cook book authors of the yesteryear sure have a whimsical sense of humour.

This is indeed a sure sign to take baby steps to get started on the cake thingy.

Wondering

2006-08-16T18:31:00.000+08:00

I came home today after a client's briefing, frustrated and bored at the same time. I'm getting tired of working for the money. I don't exactly like what I do but I'm good at my day job.

My job doesn't excite me like it used to. When I first started, I'd wake up in the morning all charged to increase my clientbase. Yeah, I was THAT motivated.

Today, it's a different story. Now that I don't need to worry about work coming in, I'm so so so bored with what I do for a living.

But.

Yeah, there's always a big fat 'BUT', I need to pay off my mortgage, insurance, etc

I just wonder if I could give it all up and start baking and selling cakes from home.

Close encounter of the maternal kind

2006-08-08T21:45:00.000+08:00

Me - You know, I had this strange dream at the hospital the other day.
Him - What about?
Me - I dreamt you came to visit me with this woman.
Him - Oh.
Me -Are you...?
Him - I brought my mum to visit you, remember?
Me - Your MOTHER?!
Him - Yeah.
Me- Oh-uhm...

And up until then, there was no mention of his mother and she came to visit me!

Good lord! I still don't know how to react.

Better not think about it.

Mozzie fever

2006-08-06T18:34:00.000+08:00

Hello, all. It's been a long while since my last post. I've just recovered from a bout of dengue fever.

After the last stage of the flu, I was alright until I coughed up blood and discovered, to my horror, purplish bruises on my back. That's when I dashed to the hospital for check-ups. Upon getting the blood test result, my doctor immediately admitted me to the dreaded hospital ward.

It was my worst nightmare as I absolutely detest hospitals- the antiseptic smell, the low energy from ailing patients, the worried looks from visiting relatives and friends.

I was weak, weepy and moody most of the time. After 3 days of seeing me at my lowest depressed state, Mr. J whisked me out of the ward and wheeled me to the newborn nursery. It was the only thing that kept my sanity. Seeing tiny wrinkly babies cocooned in their blankets upped my mood. And it became my daily highlight during my illness. Every evening, I'd eagerly wait for Mr. J to appear at the ward door to wheel me to the nursery.

I got really depressed until I had a visitor list which was created after my annoyingly supertitious eldest aunt ('tai yee' in Cantonese) asked if I saw any 'hungry ghosts' at night. I could only replied weakly in self-defense, " Yeah, Ah-Tai Yee. Don't you think there're roaming spirits around you, right now with dying people in this hospital. Better not visit me lah. " I had seriously wanted to add, "Oh and by the way, I see one very hungry female spirit hovering by your side."

Boy, was I glad for that off-handed enquiry because, later, my mum couldn't argue with me on my visitor list. Ah, well. The older generation need to be taught a courtesy lesson, sometimes. Just because you're older, that doesn't mean you can say anything you want without any repercussion.

Anyway, I'm glad it's all over - yukky bland hospital food, awkward sleeping position (due to drip needles on both my arms), daily blood tests, countless medicine dosages, freezing air-cond in the ward.

So happy to be back.

Longest flu ever

2006-07-27T13:29:00.000+08:00

I've been sick for the past 3 weeks. The jet lag, lack of sleep plus work stress crashed my immune system.

During the first week, I had a nasty dry cough which left me with coughing in my sleep. One night, I woke up in the middle of the night in the midst of a coughing fit. I was coughing non-stop for an hour before I reluctantly got up and rubbed Vicks on my throat and chest. Vicks sure works wonders on calming a raging sore throat.

After a week of hacking and coughing, I relented and went to the doctor for a course of antibiotics and drowsy cough syrup. The coughing stopped but it morphed into a full-blown flu - achy joints, runny nose and feeling lousy all the time.

I'm back to my feet but I'm still eating the damn 'jook'. I'm so sick and tired of jook after 3 weeks of eating nothing but jook.

Yesterday, I had an enormous craving for steak that I invited Paully and at the last minute, dragged Mr. J from his workplace to Jake's Steakhouse. It was the best meal I had eaten in the past 3 weeks. The steak was so juicy and tender. The chips were crispy and salty. My tastebuds were jolted from a 3-week hibernation. Every morsel, slice, crumb of food I put into my mouth was so, so, so yummy. A delicious myriad of flavours danced and skipped joyously on my tongue.

Paully and Mr. J were amused at my swooning after every mouthful of food that they wished they had a camera.

However, this morning I woke up grouchy with a dry throat and stuffy nose- not a good sign. So, it's back to the dreaded jook for now.

I sure miss eating tandoori & naan, char kway teow, Mc D's McChicken, Haagen Das ice cream and a whole feast of food which I can't eat because of my delicate throat. Damn!

Crazy about

2006-07-17T21:39:00.000+08:00

drawing and sudoku.

My new hobbies, thanks to France and London. Yes, I can't thank France enough for their omnipresence of art. Even the French dailies has a special section on art.

I'm enjoying myself immensely drawing everyday objects as suggested by Danny Gregory. It's great to spend 15 minutes everyday, just drawing whatever in front of me. My mind clears itself from all the monkey chatter as I concentrate on details of my drawings. And when I finish a little drawing, I'm calm, relaxed and chirpy happy.

Taking the train in London was a great bore. Plus English trains are narrower and smaller than the French metro. There's no space for personal boundaries when you are in the train. On my third day in London, I got fed up of not having something to do or read during those dreary train rides to and fro my sister's place. At the Charing Cross Station, I decided to get a magazine/novel but ended up with a two-quid Sudoku puzzle book. And I've been hooked with Sudoku.

I love Sudoku! And I love drawing!

Merci beaucoup

2006-07-07T19:07:00.000+08:00

Before I left for France, I was inundated with stories of how standoffish and rude the French are. However, I brushed them off and told myself to not hold any misguided judgments. I mean, you got to see and experience things yourself to know for sure.

Well, let me you something. It's a huge, HUGE misconception! The French are the warmest and nicest people I've ever met in all my travels.

On my first day in Paris, a grocer at Montmartre wished me, 'Bonjour!' as I walked past his shop and the lady at the boulangerie counter served me with a warm smile and wished me, "Bonne journee".

Everytime I got on the train with my luggage, a frenchman would offer to help me stow my bag into the overhead compartment which was too high for me. And again, before getting off the train, some frenchguy would help me bring my luggage down. One thing I know for sure, frenchmen are living examples of chivalrous gentlemen.

At St. Germain des Pres, a kind frenchman walked me to the nearest 'Huit a huit' supermarket because the shops were closed and I was tired, hungry and thirsty. Plus, there wasn't any takeaway sandwich bar in sight.

At Le Marais, the falafel owner refilled my drink because it was scorching hot (36 degrees celcius) that day and I had slurped my drink within seconds.

At the Gare du Nord sandwich bar, the server taught me how to say 'oui' in the brisk Parisian accent. 'Non, non, dise comme le Parisian 'oui'.'

In Nice, a sweet frenchlady took the trouble to walk me to the right bus-stop and made sure I got onto the right bus to my hotel.

I met really lovely french people in France. I'd forever remember their warm smiles and genuine kindness.

The French taught me an important life-lesson. It's not about which branded bag you carry. It's not about how well-dressed you are. It's not about how well made-up your face is.

It's how you treat others that matters.

Creative Impulse

2006-07-06T17:19:00.000+08:00

After reviewing my massive holiday photo collection, I realised that vivid memories were those that I hadn't bother to photograph. Throughout my trip, I was caught up in framing buildings and landmarks in the camera viewfinder.

I regretted lugging along a DSLR which was a real pain to carry in my slingover bag. Plus, it was too big to take discreet photos of street life - handsome frenchmen in suits rushing to their workplace every morning, frenchwomen strolling along with their "tou-tou", kissing couples, a group of adorable french kids in an art gallery excursion, etc. I really regret not capturing the essence of Paris. Instead, I snapped mostly architectural and scenery shots but they were good photos.

For years, I've bought various sketchbooks which remained empty until today. I've never really sat down and commit myself to start drawing. Yeah, I didn't believe in having an artistic side. Although, a drawing impulse will pop up every now and then where I find myself browsing for hours through art books in bookshops. Still, I've never stopped dreaming and talking about art.

On my last day in France, I flew from Nice to Paris and had to wait 3 hours at the Gare du Nord station to catch the Eurostar train back to London. The Eurostar platform was on a higher level from the TGV platform and there wasn't a single bench. So I had to order from the cafe on the Eurostar platform, just so I could sit down and wait for the next 3 hours.

After 2 cups of hot chocolate and a baguette cheese sandwich, I was bored from reading the french Elle magazine from cover to cover. I got up and leaned on the banister to people-watch. Soon, I found myself admiring the steel pillar in front of me.

It was my last day in France and my right wrist was suffering from phototaking fatigue. And I was fed up of attaching the 200mm lens to the DSLR before taking a photo. So, I decided to heck it and start drawing the pillar. It was my first drawing attempt since secondary school. I'm very pleased with my drawing. Not bad, eh? :)

After 2 weeks of massive art-gazing in France, how could I possibly not be compelled to draw? Seeing works of Degas, Monet, Renoir, Picasso, Leonardo Da Vinci, Van Gogh, Rodin, Matisse left me buzzing with a strong creative will.

When I got back, I decided 'enough is enough'. Life is too short to not live a rich, creative life and most importantly, life is too short to not do the things I had to do.

So last week, I went bookhunting for a basic instructional book on drawing. However, in sheer serendipity, I found the VERY book that'd teach and guide me the basics of keeping a drawing journal - The Creative License by Danny Gregory.

Danny Gregory is a self-taught artist who illustrates gorgeous images of everyday life. He has an uncanny knack of transforming mundane objects into interesting pieces of drawings. I like the way he writes, too- witty, funny and real. To know more about Danny, click on these links his webpage - dannygregory.com and a brief interview (plus a peek at one of his books) in an online magazine.

In the meantime, I'm going to take teeny, weeny, baby steps to fill up those sketchbooks that have been sitting on my bookshelf for years.

*tou-tou - doggy

Commemorating Paris

2006-06-29T14:53:00.000+08:00

It's been a week since I flew back from London. My body is still in London/Paris timezone. As a result, my biorhythm is completely out of whack - waking up in the middle of the night, famished and craving for food.

My bedroom looks completely alien whenever I wake up at night to toss and turn, I keep thinking I'm sleeping on my hotel bed in my Paris. And when I do wake up, I keep expecting to see this outside. ---> View from my hotel room in Montmartre, Paris.

However, Mr. J loves my temporary nocturnal routine as that translates to food and company while watching the World Cup match. We'd head out to the mamak before the match to take-away roti canai, tandoori & naan, iced Milo (for me) and teh tarik (for him).

The only reason I watch the match is because it's utterly boring. Really, watching a group of determined men dashing madly after a ball is the only thing that lulls me back to sleep.

Yesterday morning, while watching the France-Spain match, he lightly traced a sort of alphabet 'A' on my right shoulder.

'Hey, why don't you get a mini Eiffel Tower tatt? With a little heart by the side.'

'What?! You're joking, right?' spluttering on my dhal & thosai.

'I don't know, something to remember your trip by. Since you love Paris so much and the french simply adore you. Hmmm, why not?' nuzzling my right shoulder.

'Ssh... concentrate on the match. Look, goal! Goal!' I whooped excitedly while I, myself don't understand a single football move.

Yeah, it's his little trick, taking advantage of my post-holiday euphoric mood to pursuade me to get a tattoo. Just because he has one on his right upper arm, that doesn't mean I should go get one.

I'm too fickled- my taste evolves every moment. What if suddenly I don't like the tatt on my shoulder? Then, what? Go spend a thousand ringgit laser-erasing it off? Er, thanks but no thanks.

A tattoo is definitely out of the question. But I've got heaps of memories etched in my mind and I'm in the midst of putting together a travel scrap-book.

Now, that's MY way of commemorating a fabulous trip.

Bonjour from Nice!

2006-06-20T17:55:00.000+08:00

Bonjour, it's my last leg of my France trip. So far, it's been a great learning experience.

Tip 1 - Best to go with the flow to minimise any disappointments or let-downs. Whatever I've planned to do or hope to see were riddled with hiccups and major disappointments.

Tip 2 - Organise, organise and organise! And keep a sort-of daily routine, - wake-up time, sleeping time, so you won't end up grumpily tired at the next day.

Tip 3 - When tired, don't force oneself to do the real "touristy" sightseeing. I was dead tired on my daytrip to Nimes, that I took the wrong train all the way to Lyon instead of back to my hotel in Avignon. I got on the wrong side of the platform and ended up in the wrong train. Luckily, there were some kind frenchpeople who showed me back to the right train back to Avignon. But I only got back to the hotel at 11pm when I had planned to get back at 7.30pm. Time wasted when you made silly mishaps just because you were dead tired.

Tip 4- Do spend a bit more and take the hop-on tourist bus or train as your feet will thank you for it! Also, it's the breeziest and safest way to see the city. And a great way to snap those gorgeous, scenic shots. Right, now, I'm still nursing massive toe blisters after I stubbornly refused to take the hop-on tourist bus during my week-long stay in Paris.

Tip 5- Tell the bloody persistent frenchman that your hubby is waiting for you at the hotel and wear a ring on your left 4th finger. Or just say, "PODAH!", like I did once. Heheh.

A bientot!

Bonjour!

2006-06-13T14:32:00.000+08:00

Bonjour from Paris!

Did massive, massive art-gazing, a bit sick of art galleries and museum right now. Have never spoken so much French in my life. French people are warm & friendly only AFTER I speak French. So much formalities here- ie. When you enter a shop, you'd have to greet the salesperson/cashier 'Bonjour' and say 'Au revoir' before stepping out.

Frenchmen are the best looking lot in this world. Without fail, every morning in the Metro train, I'd spot a handsome Frenchman. Heh. Imagine, not once, I thought about Mr. J. He sounded a bit disappointed when he called me a few days ago.

Still, they can be a persistent lot. Got hassled everday. Some would slow down their cars/bikes to greet me - Bonjour, ca va? Tout va bien? in the hopes of getting a favourable response from me. Still, I'm in foreign land, so they'd get a cool response from me - haha.

All in all, it's been good. Getting off here. Internet usage clock counting down in the last 3 minutes. ;)

Pre-trip busyness

2006-05-30T19:05:00.000+08:00

*Illustration of Paris from www.jillbutler.com

I've been running around like mad, getting ready for my trip next week.

So much to do, so much to pack and so much stuff to buy. Got my driver's license translated to French as I've decided to drive around the Luberon countryside. And consulted the friendly staff at Alliance Francaise who supplied me with a wealth of travel info on hotel accomodation, getting about in Paris, museum passes, Metro passes, what to eat, what to buy, what to drink, where to shop.

I'm still having the jitters. Seriously, I think I'm going to arrive Paris all googly-eyed and in deep awe, realising that I'm living my dream. Imagine, I've been waiting for years to do this.

Honey, please go ahead and spend

2006-05-19T17:30:00.000+08:00

I've been supremely good.

I'm saving up to blitz H&M, Topshop and all the fabulous highstreet shops when I get to London in June. And I'm in luck as June is the super summer sales in Europe.

I'm so proud of myself because I, now can waltz into Zara, MNG, Topshop and just about any shop, admire their gorgeous clothes and not be wrecked with an irrational urgency to buy, buy, buy.

So far, it's been good.

Yesterday, Mr. J begged me to buy something, after seeing me fingering racks upon racks of the latest collection of beautiful clothing at Zara.

Will you please get that blue stripe top? I can see that you soooo want it. Don't deprive yourself la.

What?! Aren't you glad that YOUR girlfriend is not spending today?

Men are real dungus, at times.

Midnite assurance

2006-05-16T16:55:00.000+08:00

Lately, in the middle of the night, I've been having mini anxiety attacks.

How am I going to survive 2 weeks in France, all alone by myself? Good lordy, what have I gotten myself into? Better revise my French notes when I wake up tomorrow.

And I'd say a prayer and drift back to sleep.

Last night, I was awoken by an insistent scratching and an elbow prodding my back.

Groggily, I reached for the little jar of Tiger Balm by the bedside table. In the thick of the night, I dabbed Tiger Balm ointment on his arms, neck and a little on his face.

This morning, while brushing my teeth, Mr. J happily strode into the bathroom and gleefully told me of his dream last night, of me kissing him softly (at the exact Tiger Balm spots) all over his body.

All day he walked around with this silly doofus grin. He was such in a dippy happy mood that I didn't let on that it was the Tiger Balm which sparked his sweet dream.

Best to let things be.

Barefooting in KLCC

2006-05-07T18:57:00.000+08:00

Last friday night, Mr. J and I attended the Boh Cameronian Awards at the Mandarin Oriental Hotel.

As we walked into the Mandarin Oriental Hotel lobby, I felt an unusual squelch in my el-cheapo gold strappy evening heels. Suddenly, my left ankle gave way and I hobbled onto Mr. J.

Stop! STOP! Wait! My shoe! No!!

The straps of my left heel completely came apart. There I was, in the swanky Mandarin Oriental Hotel lobby with my shoe undone. Again.

Quickly, I threw away the pair of strappy heels and dashed across to KLCC with Mr. J to find a pair of evening heels. Luckily I was dressed in a Punjabi salwar kameez outfit (the awards theme was 'My Malaysia') and felt most natural to walk barefoot.

Never in my life, have I gotten so much attention. I don't know whether it was me the Chinese girl in a Punjabi outfit or me scurrying around barefoot in KLCC.

Needless to say, I've never gotten better service at all the shops I entered. Almost all the sales assistent were super efficient because they were amused at the sight of me. I mean, how often do you get a barefooted customer walking in, desperately looking for a pair of heels? What's more, someone who is all glammed up for an event? Not only that, a barefooted chinese girl in a Punjabi outfit.

As I traipsed barefoot through KLCC, people around me did doubletakes.

A group of teenaged girls giggled. One old uncle chuckled and his wife turned around bewilderedly searching for her husband's humour trigger. A yuppie corporate chap nudged his colleagues to look at me. A little girl loudly exclaimed, "Mummy! Look, look! She's not wearing shooos..."

Finally, after 20 minutes of the speediest shoe shopping trip in my life, I found a cream pair of heels at Lewre for RM199 that matched my cream Punjabi outfit.

Imagine, even Mr J helped. He selected sexy heels from display shelves and promptly asked sales assistants for a size 4. And all without my asking!

I wandered lonely as a cloud

2006-05-03T09:03:00.000+08:00

My favourite thing to do on a road trip is to marvel at cloudscapes.

Even with the glaring hot sun outside, I much prefer to be on the road. Just so I can gaze at soft fluffy clouds floating expansively in the sky.

Yesterday, on the way back from Singapore, I saw a huge nod in the sky. See an OK sign in the photo? Yes? No?

Tell me, what do you see?

Come (puff) away with me to Paris

2006-04-27T09:58:00.000+08:00

Last night, I had dinner with Mr. J & his friends at Chili's- nice atmosphere, s0-s0 food but the bottomless tomato juice was simply divine!

Throughout dinner, he & his buddies chatted excitedly about the coming World Cup while me and Jo sat quietly across each other eating burritos.

Sigh, at least, seat us women together la, so we can goss or something. We were seated too far diagonally across that we mimed and pulled faces while the dungus blabbed on and on about football.

I glugged on tomato juice and requested for refills every half-hour until the young teenaged waiter refilled my glass without asking.

Suddenly, the football chatter came to a halt and Glenn announced:

Glenn - We've all decided to go to Germany to watch the World Cup. You gals want to join us?

Me - Can't. I'm going to London & France.

Jo - Cool, woman.

Mr. J - What?! You never told me that.

I realised yesterday that even 30-something men can be such boys - Why?!! How come?! Why you never tell me? and then proceed to pout and sulk in a corner all evening.

[Later, in the car, outside my apartment.]

Still sulking? Hmm?

No.

You can come with me, you know. It's not too late to get an airticket to London. After all, I've booked double-bed rooms.

I spent the next hour pacifying him. My bad too as I broke the holiday news to others and not to him first.

So I filled him in with my holiday plans, the places I can't wait to see in Paris- the magnificent art galleries, eclectic flea markets, quirky 2nd-hand bookshops, to-die-for cooking supply stores, gorgeous gardens and exquisite architecture. After listening to me ramble on and on about France, he pulled his arms around me and said softly, Sorry dahling, I was a dick just now.

*light bulb blinking in my head*

Hey, you know what. There's a world-class smoking museum in Paris, dedicated to smokers, people like you la. It's got great historical stuff on tobacco and smokers. See, Paris has got something for you.

Forgot to inform him that 3 out of 4 Parisian light up.

Cake mania

2006-04-26T09:47:00.000+08:00

It's been ages since I played any PC games and this game sure takes the cake.

I spent the whole afternoon yesterday, squinting at my PC screen and clicking the mouse furiously to take customers' orders, bake cakes and ice them in lightning speed. Yeah, I won the game after a non-stop 4-hour gaming session.

PC games are annoyingly addictive, I tell you. Once you start, you gotta keep going to the next level and the next and the next until you conquer the highest level.

Must go do something else today.

Circling

2006-04-25T13:29:00.000+08:00

I've been too busy for the past few weeks, running around in circles until my car slowed me down today.

My car is in the workshop with massive repairs to replace the worn-out radiator and to tune the engine. So, I'm left at home doing nothing, wondering what to do.

Trip to France - checked
Schedule work deadlines before trip - checked
Last-minute crash course in French - checked
Income tax submission- checked

Hmm, what shall I do next?

Pourquoi

2006-04-18T13:08:00.000+08:00

That's the first French word I learnt, 10 years ago, on one of the hottest days in Australia. It was a sweltering hot day in the city. I was melting under the fierce summer heat and my mall-rat self couldn't escape to shopping malls as they were swarming with christmas-shopping crowds.

So, I dashed into the closest arty cinema. After a quick scan at the foreign movies listed and a quick study at the movie posters displayed, I opted for 'Blue' because Juliette Binoche captivated my attention with her lucid brown eyes and the indigo blue of the poster was simply gorgeous, enigmatic and mysterious. Also, the movie was titled after a colour piqued my curiosity. Hmm, interesting, what does it explore? What aspect of the blue colour? What is it about?

Watching BLUE marked the birth of my francophile self; which wasn't a conscious effort but a constant nagging feeling that popped up every now and then- hmm, maybe I should go see that French movie, go read French authors and be tickled over Asterix comics.

After watching Blue, I was compelled to learn French and soon, I found myself taking French electives in uni. Over the years, I've kept up by reading French magazines, listening to French internet radio and watching French movies screened at the Alliance Francaise.

I suspect I was a French in my past life as once, I dreamt myself speaking the language fluently in a French seaside town, buying bread from a boulangerie.

* Pourquoi- why
boulangerie- bakery

Funny bits

2006-04-10T18:13:00.000+08:00

It's all set. I've coordinated my train, plane and hotel bookings in France. My itenary goes like this - Paris (7 days), Avignon (3 days) and Nice (4 days).

Now, I only hope that everything goes on smoothly. Please, please, please let there be no rail strike, riots and plane delays in France. Please, please, please let there be a nation-wide amnesia of liberté - égalité - fraternité in France for the next 3 months.

Besides France, London is also on my itenary as I've never been there. Yep, I'll be flying to London first, then crossing the English Channel to Paris on the Eurostar train. I'll have a few days before and after France to squeeze some touristy activities in London.

Some bits of info from the British Eurostar website:

"We’ll send you the same in a confirmation email shortly. We look forward to seeing you on board! Unless you have a photographic memory, you might want to print this page for your records.."

"To check in, all you have to do is insert your ticket into the machine (which will hold onto it exactly long enough for you to start to panic, just a little bit) and then walk through the gate with your baggage. Easy."

"When you’re going away, parking the car never fails to result in some kind of situation. Usually it’s a nightmare situation."

I'm going to love my stay in London.

Backpack or wheelie?

2006-04-04T20:20:00.000+08:00

I've booked my plane ticket and hotel accomodation to Paris and Nice.

Now, I'm deliberating if I should get a backpack (of 35L capacity) or a wheeled cabin case. A backpack will instantly classify me a backpacker and I'm no backpacker. It's just that I'd like to move around easily from train stations to hotels as I'm going to travel solo. Not only that, I have heard horror stories of vagrants in Paris distracting you and running off with your luggage.

A wheeled cabin case will only look nice and that's it. Although I may use it for future use, I don't really like cabin cases as they are cumbersome. But a backpack means I probably chuck it in my storeroom for the next indefinite trip.

Which shall I get?

Angel

2006-03-31T20:48:00.000+08:00

I was down with a very nasty flu the whole week. But an angel took care of me.

Mr. J came to my place everyday to cook 'jook' (under my instructions on how to cook jook the way I like them - smooth and creamy, not watery and grainy) and to do my laundry. He practically took care of me while I was in bed moping and brawling my eyes out. The flu virus has the strangest propensity of wreaking me emotionally.

He even bought a small jar of Marmite, simply because I told him that jook tastes better with Marmite and not forgetting tubs of yoghurt and aloe vera jelly to soothe my raging sore throat.

I've been so blind. So blind to everything that he is.

Conversations at Zara

2006-03-22T18:13:00.000+08:00

"Hey, you know, this black cap-sleeve top'd look really nice on you. It complements your petite frame. Quick, try this.

"Ooh, this sequin cropped cardi is just perfectly gorgeous. You'd look fab in it.

"Lovely, just lovely, this grey merle cropped cardi. You should try this, really.

"Sorry, I'm not there to help you choose your engagement ring. Yes, it'd be superfun trying sparkly rings together and going 'ooh and ahh' over them while John rolls his eyes and pretends not to notice. "

And that was my imaginary conversation I had at Zara today with Laine, my best galpal who lives in Hong Kong. She just got engaged and told me recently that she wished I were by her side to help her choose the ring.

She's the only girl I know who gets so much joy out of shopping that I, too, happily get sucked into buying clothes that I already have, only from different labels or outlets.

Without my shopping buddy around, shopping is no fun. So I talk to her in my head, sending out my shopping vibes to her in Hong Kong whenever I'm shopping here, in Malaysia.

Miss you lots, babe. I wish so badly I could be in Hong Kong, me your unofficial personal stylist, your shopping buddy, your tai-tai wannabe accomplice.

How odd

2006-03-21T23:23:00.000+08:00

I received an email request to feature my blog from a Singaporean clubbing website.

Me? Cupcake Queen, the antithesis of a clubbing chicka? The domestic goddess who already has a million and one excuse ready on-hand to skive off clubbing.

Yeah, clubbing, to me, is work - pile on gung on my face, shiver in barely-there tops and feel utterly old because I'm perpetually surrounded by 20-somethings clubbers.

Sorry, yah. I'm no clubbing chicka.

That was my reply.

Signs

2006-03-21T16:20:00.000+08:00

Everyday, I see a pair of birds flying past me. Driving along NKVE Highway, a pair of black crows perching high up on the lamp by the highway. On my balcony, a pair of brown sparrows nuzzling each other. At traffic light stop,a pair of blue-black magpies soaring above my car. On my weekly hike, a pair of grey pigeons cooing by the roadside.

Today, I must have seen at least 5 pair of birds. This is insane. Over the past 6 months, the signs have gotten increasingly persistent that I can not ignore them anymore.

I surrender.

Montoya lookalike

2006-03-17T14:29:00.002+08:00

(on the phone, last night)

Mr. J - Hey, how was your day?
Me - Ooh.. I had lunch with two very handsome men... I think even Jo'd kill to lunch with me today.
Mr. J - Who la?
Me - You wanna know, hmm?
Mr. J - Yeah. I mean, I was asking how was your day and all.
Me - Uhm, ok. Montoya and Pitt.
Mr. J - Huh?! Who?!!
Me - Juan Pablo MONTOYA and Brad PITT. Hahaha!

And so, I explained to him my fabulous lunch at Nando's with Juan Montoya and Brad Pitt who gave me their complete undivided attention. Then, I rambled on how handsome Montoya is, only to hear a long pause at the end of the line.

Me - Hello, J. You still there? Eh, he's just a public figure, a celebrity la, you know, a harmless crush. You're not jealous, are you? Hello?
Mr. J - *in a quiet voice* My last girlfriend said I looked like him.

Hmm, actually he does. Mr. J has the same tanned skin, facial structure and the same short cropped hair as Juan Montoya.

So, dear readers, if you've been wondering how Mr. J looks like. Imagine the handsome Colombian F1 driver Juan Pablo Montoya.

Lunching with 2 handsome men

2006-03-16T16:59:00.000+08:00

After all the drama earlier this week, a dose of retail therapy was the antidote I'd needed. Although shopping malls are swarming with kids running amok and bewildered out-of-towners because of the school holidays, I decided to heck it and brave the maddening crowds.

It wasn't that bad at 1U Shopping Centre. Yeah, there were screaming kids running wild with their harried maids and unaffected parents. I think those little brats picked up my radar as not one came near me nor collided onto me.

I had a fine time today. Bought a black cap-sleeved tee and a brown tank top from Topshop at 20% off. I really like Topshop cotton tops as they're pretty good quality and fit really well.

However, my highlight today was lunching at Nando's with these two handsome men giving me their undivided attention from the watch shop across Nando's.

Aaah, I had such a fabulous lunch.

Anger is my blessing

2006-03-13T16:00:00.000+08:00

The past few weeks have been rather stagnant. Things were moving too slowly and I was getting impatient crawling the snail pace at work and organising my France trip- I haven't even booked my plane tic yet!

Last night, I said a little prayer to the guy upstairs to help me 'sort my life out'. Oh boy, he sure did shake things up.

This morning, I went to my parents' place to collect my mail, only to discover that dimwit of my brother has thrown them away. I was really pissed off as there was an insurance claim letter for damages to my car in a road accident last year. Not only that, Dimwit threw away other insurance bills and bank statements.

Growing up, I've seen how my mother has closed one eye to my brother's inconsiderateness to others countless times. It's the Chinese thing - sons are the revered ones in the family. So, Dimwit can do no wrong in my parents' eyes.

I know better to confront Dimwit as he sure knows he gets away with his shit. What's more, with my mum not admitting to his throwing away my mail this morning. * Sigh *

Ah, well. That means I've got to go to my parent's house every single day to collect my damn mail.

The only good from today's unfortunate event. I'm suddenly rankled to get things done for my France trip and quit veering towards complacency.

Believe it or not, angry spurs me on. It is the fuel that kicks up determination and motivation. Anger is indeed my motivating fuel. Past experiences have taught me to not let anger get the better of me but to harness it positively.

That sure was a swift kick to shake me out of the rut, thanks to the guy upstairs.

Amen.

Anti-surfing device

2006-03-09T14:19:00.000+08:00

While dining with Mr. J, Mr Busybody Glenn and his lovely girlfriend, Jo , we lamented on how the internet can be a real time-sucker and a real pain to our wrists and backs.

Admit it, yeah? We all do the unnecessary surfing. For me, it's countless baking sites and addictive blogs.

And this got me thinking, how about an anti-surfing software that sets a surfing quota for the day. Not only that, it rewards you with points which you can redeem on cool tech gifts from their merchants when you've been good.

Just a thought.

My baking idol

2006-03-06T18:40:00.000+08:00

Five years ago, I had an irrational urge to bake a marvelous cheesecake. I wanted to bake a cheesecake so marvelous and delicious that people would remember me by that scrumptiously gorgeous cheesecake.

It was an irrational baking urge as I, for one, don't like cheesecakes at all. Yep, cheesecake are too rich and creamy for my taste. Huge, quizzical frowns appear on faces when I tell people that I don't like cheesecakes. I really don't care for them. My eyes skip them on cake counters and stay transfixed at other cakes and pies.

So I was plagued by this bizarre desire to bake a cheesecake. At that time, I had thought maybe I could train my tastebuds to like cheesecakes for once. But I had to find that one cheesecake recipe to transform my tastebuds.

And thus, began my cheesecake mission. For weeks, I browsed countless baking books at bookshops. I pored over my collection of baking books. Finally, after weeks of googling, I stumbled upon a whimsical cheesecake recipe at Saveur's website. It was a simple and yet elegant and classy cheesecake - Polka Dot Cheesecake.
(* Polka-dot cheesecake photo from Saveur's website)

I never did baked the Polka Dot Cheesecake but I was so inspired by the woman behind that wonderful cheesecake creation- Maida Heatter. Saveur honoured Maida as the Queen of Cakes. She really loved what she was doing and she came across as warm, friendly and full of joy. After reading that article, I was filled with a deep feel-good feeling and copied her recipes from the website for future baking endeavours.

Nine months later, with sheer serendipity I walked into the Times bookstore with Maida's cookbooks selling at an unbelievable price of RM39.95.

It was too good to be true! I gasped when I saw 3 of her cookbooks on the bookshelf. I had, months earlier, contemplated of buying them online from Amazon.com for a full price of RM120. Quickly, I snapped up two of her cookbooks - Maida Heatter's Cakes and Maida Heatter's Cookies.

And that was the beginning of my baking sucess. I owe it to Maida for all the wonderful cakes and cookies that have garnered me praise and gratitude from people. Her cookbooks are excellent; her recipes are fail-proof. Later, I added Maida Heatter's Great Book of Chocolate Desserts to my cookbook collection.

Last year, I wrote a thank-you letter to her but unfortunately, my letter was returned from the United States with the reason 'adressee unknown'.

Yesterday, I googled and to my delight, I found a recent article on Maida in the Miami Herald. She is the true epitome of a baking doyenne. That is how I want to grow old, like Maida, so full of joy, generosity and passion.

Oh, joy!

2006-02-27T07:20:00.000+08:00

Last Sat, I went to Alliance Francaise to borrow France travel guides. I left the library pretty pleased with myself, armed with 6 travel guides. But really, that wasn't what made me dance around with joy. You know, that crazy toe-wriggling happy-joy feeling.

After years of prowling supermarket aisles and food purveyors shelves in KL, I finally found them. Vanilla beans and varlhona chocolate! The very two ingredients that would magically transform my baking endeavours into heavenly delights.

At Alliance Francaise, there's a french cafe called Gourmandines that not only serves french cuisine but stocks french foodstuff. Yes, there's where I found the wonderful vanilla beans and valrhona chocolate. They even have illy coffee! I couldn't stop grinning from ear-to-ear when I saw the vanilla beans and varlhona chocolate on the shelf.

Ah, what a great way to end a horribly stressful week. A good supply of France travel guides, vanilla beans and valrhona chocolate. Three things that gave me unadulterated joy during the weekend!

It ain't easy being single

2006-02-23T12:19:00.000+08:00

Once again, I had to defend my single and boyfriendless status.

This time, I'm reminded that 'age is catching up' and that 'I'm happier being with a man and even better if I'm married to him.'

WHAT THE FARK?

Yesterday, I met up with an old galpal, Lin who's a stay-at-home with 2 kids. We've been friends since college days and once in a while, I buzz her to meet up. And meeting up means taking a 20-min drive to her place. Because she has 2 young children, we have tea at her place.

Over the years, I find myself drifting further and further from married friends, especially those with kids. I realised that they don't share my enthusiasm with happenings in my single life, especially holiday plans.

I love my holidays. I need them. Life is so much interesting when I travel. I come back with stories, images and memories.

However, yesterday was a strange epiphany. I suspect that Lin secretly resents me for living the freely single life while she stays at home taking care of her kids. Or that it's her passive-aggresive reaction to my wonderfully single life. Still, I don't want to make assumptions.

Next, she lamented on how I'll never be happy and stay stagnant if I don't let go of Mr. J. Yeah, I can't let go of him, because I'm dealing with a personal issue. And because of my unwillingness to let go of Mr. J, I'll never have another man in my life and that was when the whole 'age is catching up' and 'I'll be happier married' came in. All her unsolicited advice was psychologically eroding. I left her place, feeling utterly vacuous with a vague sense of sadness. No wonder my instincts kicked yesterday. I heard a little voice urging me to not meet up with her, but I chose to overlook it.

I always believe when something good happens; it's a blessing. When it's bad; it's experience. There's a good reason for things to happen and if you look hard enough, there's a valid life lesson.

For years, I've kept a Happiness card by my workdesk which I, incidentally, bought during a low peak in my life. This morning, I looked at it and realised that what Lin said yesterday 'was a reflection of herself and not me.'

No one can decide what's good for me and what truly makes me happy. Only I can decide what's good for me.

Baking away the blues

2006-02-17T20:30:00.000+08:00

I got up at the wrong side of the bed this morning.

Grouchiness tailed me the whole day. Constant hungry pangs hit me all day. Finally at around 3pm, I had enough of having a bad day syndrome.

So, what did I do? Yeah, you guess it right.

BAKE.

When I'm highly stressed, I go bake and feel much better afterward. It's an instant mood elevator.

Plus I've been wanting to try this cherry cake recipe for the past month. Instead, I converted the recipe into cherry cupcakes. They were delightfully soft and fluffy with luscious gems of sweet cherries.

The first time

2006-02-14T17:45:00.000+08:00

After weeks of badgering from Mr. Busybody Glenn, I finally called Mr. J to wish him 'gong hei fatt choy' on the first day of the CNY. He sounded happy and we chatted for an hour.

On Sunday, he called me out to dinner but I had Chap Goh Mei dinner at my mum's place. Out of the blue, I asked if he'd like to join me and my family for dinner.

That was totally uncharacteristic of me, as my mum has this unwritten rule of bringing men home. I remember her telling me when I was 15, that the men my sister and I were to bring home are the ones we're going to marry.

And true enough, her one and only matriarch rule prevailed for years. I've never brought any boyfriends home. My mum doesn't know who the men in my life are. And my sister only brought one man home, that is my brother-in-law.

When Mr. J walked into my parent's house, my Aunty Lily told me, my eyes lit up and I practically glowed. He was charmingly polite to my parents and relatives. My cousins (little ones and adults alike) all eyed him curiously. My aunts couldn't stop gushing on what a 'leng chai' he is. My uncles couldn't stop talking shop with him. And my parents, oh well, they were somewhat baffled.

Later in the kitchen while doing the dishes.

Is he your boyfriend, ah? whispered Aunty Lily.

No la. He's just a friend. Why ah? I bring home a guy doesn't mean he's my boyfriend. We're living in the 21st century, ok? I hissed back.

Wait, you just wait... I can see you marrying this one.

* leng chai- handsome fella

Travel dilemma

2006-02-14T08:26:00.000+08:00

I've taken the plunge to do the courageous thing. After deliberating (and procrastinating) for years, I've decided to go to France.

Right now, I'm having a little anxiety moment. Should I book my plane ticket first or book hotel reservations? It's a little tricky as summer is a peak season for Paris and I don't know which to book first- plane tic or hotel rerservation?

In the past, my solo travels were always to a country where I've got a friend living there. So accommodation is automatically taken care of. All I need to do is book my plane tic and apply for visa.

This Paris trip is going to be my first real solo trip as I'll be completely alone in a foreign land where I know no one. A little scary but I want to do this as I've been meaning to do this for a long time.

I need feedback, advice and travel tips. But most importantly , please help me to answer my dilemma here - should I book the plane ticket or room reservation first?

I was a teenaged domestic goddess

2006-02-12T16:47:00.000+08:00

Like Sari Party Girl, I'm recipe-mad.

It all started when I was 13 and had just started Secondary 1. One evening, after school, I spied a whimsical recipe in The Star - Coca-Cola Cake.

'How interesting! You mean, I can bake a cake with Coca-cola? Wow!'

Excitedly, I quickly cut out the recipe and pasted it in a brown soft cover exercise book with the "Sekolah Kebangsaan Menengah" school emblem.

And that was the beginning of a lifelong habit of cutting and pasting recipes from magazines, newspapers and even food labels. Recipes that got me licking my lips. Recipes that made me wonder what they'd taste like. Recipes that have unusual ingredients. Recipes that have the wierdest ingredient combination.

Unfortunately, I lost my first recipe scrapbook to a classmate who carelessly misplaced it. For years, I mourned the lost recipe of the Coca-Cola Cake until ten years ago to my delight, I found my first treasured cut-and-paste recipe in the internet. Ah! The joys of the internet!

Here's a recipe of the Coca-Cola Cake. It's actually a lovely caramely chocolate cake.

Coca Cola Cake & Icing
1 cup butter
1/4 cup unsweetened cocoa powder
1 cup Coca Cola
2 cups all-purpose flour
2 cups white sugar
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 cup buttermilk (or combine 1/2 milk + 1 tsp lemon juice. Let stand for 5 min and beat well)
2 eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 1/2 cups miniature marshmallows

Coca Cola Cake Icing
6 tablespoons Coca Cola®
3 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa powder
1/2 cup butter 4 cups confectioners' sugar
1 cup chopped walnuts
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Cake
1. Heat to boiling: butter, cocoa and Coca Cola.
2.Remove from heat and add flour, sugar, baking soda and mix gently.
3. Stir in buttermilk, eggs, vanilla and marshmallows.
4. Pour into greased 13 x 9-inch pan. Bake at 350 degrees F (175 degrees C) for 30 to 35 minutes.
Cake can be frosted while warm. Makes about 12 -14 servings.

Icing
1.Bring to boil butter, cocoa, and Coca Cola.
2. Remove from heat and stir in confectioners' sugar, chopped nuts, and vanilla.
3.Top cake while hot.

Annoying twitch

2006-02-11T17:08:00.000+08:00

Whoever you are, will you please stop thinking about me?

Since yesterday, my left eyebrow has been twitching involuntarily all day. One minute ago, it just twitched. And last night, in my sleep, I even felt my eyebrow twitched.

It's annoying as I'd wonder who could it be after an eyebrow twitch.

Eat, drink and celebrate

2006-02-02T11:30:00.000+08:00

* Gong Hei Fatt Choy *

This year, I have extra luck with my two of my angpows. Aunty Lily and my hard-core gambler cousin have generously added lottery tickets to their angpow givings. My mood instantly reversed when I saw the two lottery tickets as I was in a grouchy, non-festive mood the whole week.

Last year, one of my aunts announced loudly that I'm the oldest among my cousins to be getting angpow- 'So when will that end ah? Better get married fast fast'. Really, that annoying reminder dampened my mood. I wasn't looking forward to hearing words of 'encouragement' to get married soon, when receiving angpows from the older generation and married cousins.

But I had fun this year. I played blackjack with my 11 year old cousins with 20 sen bettings. It was cheap thrill being the card dealer with three 11 year old boys. When they lose, they looked so disheartened and gave long sighs of 'aiyah' And when they win, they'd whoop and clap and cheer. Yeah, all for 20 sen winnings.

And I discovered that drinking beer is the best way to combat heatiness from overindulging in prawn crackers, dried meat and pineapple tarts.

Gutting it out for the CNY

2006-01-27T16:39:00.000+08:00

Ever since I've moved out, I've been making countless trips to my parent's place slowly shifting my belongings. Oh, and occasionally raid their fridge and pantry cupboard.

My mum complains that I hardly 'visit' her. So today, I decided to fulfill the obligatory filial daughter duty and 'visit' her the whole day.

Instead, she sent me to Midvalley Megamall to do last-minute grocery shopping for the CNY celebrations. Top on her list is 3 pieces of pig's stomach.

Every year, on the first day of the lunar year, my mum brews a big pot of hearty, peppery pig's stomach soup for her clan of 30-odd family members. And I'm unofficially the best buyer for this ingredient - haha, it's true! No one, not even my brother (who is her pet among my siblings) is entrusted with this delicate task.

One year, my brother was delegated to buy the said ingredient and the result was a malodorous soup that smelled vaguely of cat's urine; which no one went for seconds or dared comment. That was the year with a huge pot of leftover pig's stomach soup.

It's fairly easy to choose the best pig's stomach. Regardless of freshness, the stomach lining looks grey. So the trick is to examine the veins. Simply choose one with healthy veins that has a red pinkish colour. And voila, you've the best slab of pig's stomach for brewing the most delicious pig's stomach soup.

Perhaps, a steaming bowl of peppery pig's stomach soup on the first day of the lunar year will kick me back in the CNY mood. Yeah, and I'm rambling on about pig's innards.

Anyway, Gong Hei Fatt Choy, everyone!

CNY blues

2006-01-26T19:45:00.000+08:00

After months of resisting the gorgeous necklaces at pashupatina, I caved in today and bought my first necklace online. The lovely blue hue of the necklace beads was too exquisite to pass. And it's going to cost me a ridiculous RM250.

Perhaps, it's to compensate for my non-exisiting CNY mood. Don't know why but I'm so not in the CNY festive mood this year. I didn't buy a single dress or shoe or let alone, a red floozy bag. And this is most uncharacteristic of me - I didn't bake a single cookie.

It was a seriously spur of the moment purchase which I took a gamble to buy online, for P.os Malaysia service is questionably reliable.

I don't know what's with me today - buying things without even trying.

We are family

2006-01-23T17:25:00.000+08:00

(on the phone)
Mum: Hello, girl ah. Don't forget we have reunion dinner at Imbi Palace Restaurant this Saturday.

Me : Yes, Ma.

Mum : Dinner starts at 5.30.

Me : What?!

Mum : 5.30

Me : 5.30?! Why 5.30?

Mum : Because I've booked 4 tables and the restaurant says it's either 5.30 or 8.30. Because they're heavily overbooked. So have to let diners eat in two shifts.

Me : Huh? Eat in shifts?! Ok, whatever. I'll be there at 5.30

Mum : And girl. We are visiting your place on neen chor yat.

Me : No! Ma, cannot!!

Mum: Why not? We haven't been to your place.

Me : I don't have any furniture. Haven't bought a sofa set. I've been sitting on the floor to watch tv.

Mum: But Uncle Yee, Aunty May and your FAMILY (she meant the rest of the 30-odd family members of the clan) want to come visiting...

*********

And that's precisely why I had to get my own place.

* Neen chor yat - Cantonese for New Year's Day

Mememe 4

2006-01-18T08:42:00.000+08:00

Alrighty. Got tagged by Little Miss Drinkalot.

4 jobs you've had in your life
- University library assistant (Australia)
- Kitchenhand at a Thai restaurant (Australia)
- Bank Officer (M'sia)
- Advertising Account Exec (M'sia)

4 movies you could watch over and over
- The Sound of Music
- Little Women
- Amelie Poulain
- The Bourne Identity (+ Supremacy)

4 TV shows you love(d) to watch
- CSI
- Come Dine with Me
- Faking It
- Sex and the City

4 places you've lived
- 612, Taman Nee Yan, Seremban
- Upstairs a double-storey terrace house at Ipoh Road, KL which was opposite a pig farm.
- An old, creaky fifties era house in Australia
- Studio flat in Australia

4 places you've been on vacation to
- Tokyo
- Sydney
- Hong Kong
- Burma

4 places you would rather be
- Provence
- Paris
- San Francisco
- New York

4 of your favourite foods
- Tandoori Chicken & Nan
- Seremban Beef Noodles
- Hokkien Noodles
- Sashimi

4 websites you visit daily
- HSX (to rub my hands in glee; watching my Hollywood shares grow)
- Elle
- The Writer's Almanac ( Garrison Keller's voice is so earthy and mellow)
- New Musical Express

4 tagged
- Anjali
- JellyGirl
- Tiffanie
- Mao Tai

To call or not to call?

2006-01-17T16:52:00.000+08:00

Last night, 7.30pm on Yahoo IM chat-

CCQ - Happy new year. Tis a bit late.

Glenn- No worries, babe. Happy new year 2 u, too.

CCQ - Nice photos u got there at ur Christmas party.

Glenn- Thanks. You missed all the fun lah. My nieces & nephews are the cutest bunch. Can die one.

CCQ - Totally agree. ;)

Glenn - Eh, I tell u this. Promise u won't get mad at me, ok?

CCQ - What is it? I promise I won't throw a hissy fit.

Glenn - Sure, ah?

CCQ - Yeah. Fai-teet lah.. TELL!! Aiyah, u arr. Worse than women.

Glenn- Erm...
J has a present for you. He thought you might turn up at the last minute.

CCQ - ....

Glenn - Hello? U not mad at me?

CCQ - Nope. I didn't get u guys presents. Eh, u sure it's for me?

Glenn - I saw a golden wrapped present and he didn't give it to anyone. So I thought surely must be for the princess who was supposed to come. Golden wrapper- all so classy and elegant. For who else lah?

CCQ- Eeyer, u sure or not?

Glenn- Yep, absolutely 100% positively sure. I got Jo (his g'f) to peek and it says for the princess here.

Holy moly. What shall I do? To call or not call him?

Drats. Just after I got all weepy and brawled my eyes out on Sunday.

*Fai-teet - Cantonese for 'hurry up'

Falling

2006-01-15T10:40:00.000+08:00

I received a mass-email from Glenn yesterday, with a link to his Kodakshare webpage. In the email, he wished me (and some other people whom I don't know) a very happy new year.

Two weeks ago, Glenn invited me to his Christmas party at his hometown, Penang. And it was inevitable that I'd have to hitch a 4-hour ride in Mr. J's car to Penang. Not wanting to make things more complicated with Mr. J, I turned down Glenn's offer. I was (and still am) dealing with the breakup.

In Glenn's Kodakshare page, there were photos of the Christmas party which I missed. There was one charming photo of Mr. J cradling this little boy in his arms. The little angel looked around 3 years old. Little angel rested his wee head on Mr. J's shoulders and Mr. J was grinning at the camera.

When I first saw that photo, I smiled. After viewing the rest of the album, I went back to that photo. This time, I noticed tiredness and exhaustion at Mr. J's face. He looked so tired. He had huge, dark underbags. I could instantly tell that his aura was dull and low from the senseless weekly clubbing, drinking and partying. And that troubled me last night.

This morning, I woke up with this huge sad void inside me. And I realise that I'm feeling sad because I didn't feel that tugging of the heart when I saw Mr. J cradling the little boy. I'm sad because I don't miss Mr. J. anymore. I'm sad because he looked so worn out and drained.

I honestly wish I could pick up the phone, right now, and call him. But I don't want to detect weariness concealed by his boistorous laughter. I don't want to see exhaustion behind his boyish grin. I don't want to sense dread behind his updating me on his seemingly happy life.

Seeing him in deep denial with his own reality hurts so bad.

I came undone

2006-01-12T14:04:00.000+08:00

I am not one of those women with an extensive shoe wardrobe. I only buy shoes when I really like them, which is a rare probability. For the past 2 years, I've been alternating between black ballet flats and black strappy heels for work.

Yesterday, I was viewing exquisite artwork of Nirmala Dutt's at Valentine Willie Gallery at Bangsar when my black ballet flats came undone. The left outer sole has unglued itself and my left shoe flapped a little as I walked. I got a little paranoid of the whole shoe coming off with the outer sole left lying on the pavement. That would be so embarassing. Imagine, me doing an unglamourous version of Cinderella leaving behind one outer solle of her ballet flat on the pavement for all Bangsar lunch crowd to see!

I could easily fix my flats. All I need to do is visit my friendly neighbourhood malay cobbler to glue it back. But last week, I saw this gorgeous pair of black suede flats with a sparkly edging at TopShop.

Today, I decided to go to TopShop to check it out. The flats were a little pricey at RM179 and I wasn't in a splurge mode. So I thought I go check out Zara sales instead. As I stepped into Zara, the left heel of my black strappy heels got stuck between this metal floor divider at the entrance. Not to make an utter fool of myself, I merely tugged my left foot to get the heel out. Unknowingly, I left the little plastic sole stuck between the metal edging. As I walked, I heard an unusual light metallic clink from my left heel. It was only in the dressing room that I discovered the mishap.

I literally had to skip back to TopShop, just to get the black suede flats before I wear out my left heel. I tell you, I felt really ridiculous as the TopShop sales assistant gave me a knowing smile as he had greeted me earlier.

Never in my life have I had such a bad, baaad shoe day. And not once but two days in a row!

(Pic - The TopShop flats that saw me skipping 100 metres from Zara to TopShop at Midvalley today)

Afternoon antidote

2006-01-06T15:19:00.000+08:00

I hate afternoons, especially after lunch. Between two to four o'clock, my brain goes into shutdown mode and I struggle to get work done.

Over the years, I fought against the heavy afternoon stupor where my lazy procrastinating self emerges from nowhere. I get distracted by a million and one things- reply emails, play online games, make a trip to nearest mall to get really unnecessary things like Nivea body cream and even toothpaste.

After much trial and error, I now have a winning formula that beat the afternoon lethargicness.

1. Have a light lunch - I usually have a bowl of soup and sometimes, a tall, cold glass of tomato juice with a sprinkling of pepper.

2. Drink copious cups of jasmine tea. When really stressed and headachy, camomile tea is especially good in relaxing my tense shoulder blades and calming my frazzled mind.

3. Slather on Jurlique rose hand cream. It has to be Jurlique's rose and nothing else. The rose scent is simply divine and it keeps me going.

4. Blog. Yes, writing one entry gets me back on the track. :)

My wish collage for 2006

2006-01-02T16:27:00.000+08:00

Every new year's eve, I'd sit down and do a wish collage. Things that I aspire to do and to have. I'd skim through old magazines and tear photos and phrases of things that I want in my life. Strangely, it doesn't take me long to find the right images. I usually complete the wish collage in about thirty minutes.

In 2004, I wished for a boyfriend , so I did a collage with mandarin birds and couples. Believe it or not, I found myself in not one but two relationships- both pretty short but intense experiences.

Here's a sneak of my wishlist for 2006. The key to make things happen- do the wish collage and forget about it for the rest of the year.

All I want for Christmas is

2005-12-22T17:44:00.000+08:00

I've been too lazy to blog lately. It's the year-end Christmas plus school holiday traffic chaos in the Klang Valley.

The maddening crowd, the long queues and the never-ending frustrating search for parking at malls make me cringe at the mere thought of wondering if I should head to the mall. Dont' mean to sound like a Scrooge but I can't wait for Christmas and the school holidays to be over and traffic+shopping crowd normalcy to be restored.

I'm done with christmas shopping. This year, all my good friends get a year worth of magazine subscription from me. The fashionista gets Harper's Bazaar, the career-frenzied-working mum gets O magazine, the body-conscious gets Shape.

As for me, I have nothing on my christmas wish list. All I want for christmas is peace, joy, happiness, more insightful epiphanies and the complete trust to live my life intuitively.

Oh and Merry Christmas to my blog chickies - Anjali, Jelly Girl, Little Miss Drinkalot and Tiffanie. It's been a great year of blog sistahood!

Merry Christmas, everyone!

That's one new year's resolution done!

2005-12-06T19:00:00.000+08:00

I've enrolled myself in a cake decorating course at the Malaysian Institute of Baking. Finally, after walking past the premises on several occasion wondering what it'd be like to take up cake decorating, I've decided to quit procrastinating and just do it! No more 'what ifs' in my life from now on.

This morning, I was at PJ State, sorting out banking matters and the school was just round the corner. So I walked into the baking school to enquire. The adminstrator was really friendly and nice. The school looks pretty good so far - a well-stocked cookbook library and an indoor balinese garden.

It's all set. I've registered myself for a cake decorating course starting on the first week of the year 2006.

Yeah, it's kinda like a new year's resolution, except that I'm weeks ahead of the New Year.

And you know what? I feel really good about this move. For the first time in months, I feel good about my decision.

Epiphany whoosh

2005-12-01T18:28:00.000+08:00

Today, I had a moment of epiphany that lifted away the inert weight I've been reluctantly dragging around for the past 2 months. This evening, I was running errands at Midvalley- banking my cheques, paying bills, grocery shopping when I heard a soft voice whooshed inside my head for a split second.

"Honey, you gotta focus on what you want. Stop focusing on what you don't want coz you're diverting all your energies from what's really important in your life. Think of what you'd like in your life instead."

Now I realised that for the past month I've been trying so hard to get rid of all the drama queens, energy suckers, nay-sayers and people/situations who don't have faith in me and my dreams. As a result, I was so intent to making sure they don't exist in my life. It was "I don't want this. And I don't want that".

No wonder, I was morphing into a grouchbag. I was unhappy, weary and tired with every bloody single thing in my life. I FORGOT! Yes, I forgot what I would like my life to be like. Damn, you know those how self-help gurus say you create your reality on what you focus your thoughts on. Yes, it's so true.

New music, new scent, new life

2005-11-29T16:33:00.000+08:00

Have you ever notice how certain music, perfume or even food remind you of a distinctive period of your life?

Right now, there are two things that clearly herald a new era in my life.

KT Tunstall - Eye to the Telescope. I've been listening to her album day in, day out for the past few weeks. She has an amazingly raw, edgy and earthy voice that resonates with honesty, clarity and truth. Whenever I play "Eye to the Telecscope", I'm instantly grounded and assured that my life is turning out for the better. It's the only thing that's keeping me going, at the moment.
Acqua diParma - Iris Nobile. Bought this pricey perfume spray from the posh Harvey Nichols deparmental store at Hong Kong Central during my HK trip. I love the iris scent which is very feminine, classy and elegantly soft.

Still, I haven't any clue to how my life will unfold, who will come into my life, what will be the next best thing in my life. But I have enormous faith that I'm heading for bigger and better things in my life.

Cheap cooking trick

2005-11-24T16:38:00.000+08:00

After watching Nigella Lawson's TV cooking series, I've learnt one simple way to cook chicken. And all you need is a bottle of sauce (peri-peri, teriyaki, etc), one clove of garlic and a plastic bag.

1. Finely chop one clove garlic.

2. Take chicken pieces (wing, drummet or whatever you fancy) and place them in an unused plastic bag or you may use Miss Lawson's favourite Ziploc bags.

3. Add chopped garlic to chicken pieces in the bag. ( You may add pepper or chilis or parsley)

4. Pour whatever sauce you like. I like Nando's peri-peri and garlic sauce.

5. Secure bag with rubber band and shake bag to ensure sauce marinate evenly.

6. Toss bag in freezer to marinate for as long as you like.

7. When you are ready to cook the marinated chicken, thaw for 2-3 hours. Next, heat the pan, add some oil and stir-fry them. Voila! Easy peasy yummy chicken.

Today, I marinated two different flavours using Nando's Peri-Peri Sauce and Kikkoman Teriyaki sauce. Now I've one bag of peri-peri chicken and one bag of teriyaki chicken in the freezer. They should be nicely marinated and deeply infused with peri-peri and teriyaki flavours by Saturday. *smacking lips*

Compulsively cookbook mad

2005-11-22T17:56:00.000+08:00

I was utterly bored out of my mind today. And I got myself a cookbook which I really don't need. Yeah, other women impulse-buy clothes, I go buy cookbooks. You see, I was wandering at 1Utama by myself and I had the Times Bookshop Birthday voucher (where I get 20% +RM3 off) in my bag. November is my birthday month. Yes, I'm officially a year older.
For the past 3 years, I've refrained from getting this cookbook. The recipes inside are pretty much what I've in my other baking cookbooks. Let's not forget that I've 18 baking cookbooks.

But the gorgeous photos of the cakes, cookies, breads and pies inside all look so incredibly delicious, elegant, classy and irresistible. I swear Donna Hay has made Modern Classics 2 the most beautiful photos you could possibly find in a baking cookbook.

So today, I was bored and weak will, which doesn't happen on most days. I couldn't fight any resistance. "Tak boleh tahan, already..." Before my rational mind kicks in, I quickly grabbed a copy of 'Modern Classics 2' and marched to the cashier counter and duly paid for it.

Now I have to justify my compulsive purchase by baking recipes from this cookbook. They all look pretty basic and easy to make. I'll let you know how it goes. Watch out for my next baking post. ;)

Solitude antidote

2005-11-17T18:49:00.000+08:00

Apart from the sparse and sudden bouts of sheer loneliness, I'm enjoying my total reclusion.

It's the best antidote to getting unstuck from a career which isn't going anywhere, from a social circle which is getting irritatingly repressive, from life which doesn't seem exciting anymore.

Every evening, I'd come home and the first thing I'd do is switch the phone off. I don't even watch tv now. I find the flickering screen distractingly noisy and unsettling.

So I read lots. I even found interesting websites to read- Salon.com, Vanity Fair, The New Yorker. I discovered a fine essayist, Joan Didion whose work resonates clarity and honesty (which is what I need at the moment). I also found a perfect french pear tart recipe.

Strange how a few years ago, I was yearning to have a flourishing social life with a wide circle of friends.

Now I don't even want to go out during the weekends. I'd do anything to stay home and spend quiet time alone.

Becoming a permanent recluse

2005-11-14T18:20:00.000+08:00

Have you ever felt the need to step out of the world and just live for yourself?

Ever since I came back from Hong Kong, I've been feeling out of sorts with my surroundings. I don't connect with people anymore. I'd get impatient with anyone who indulge in petty gossip. I'm so disconnected with the world around me.

I'm slowly becoming a recluse. I reject companionship from others. I'd much rather stay at home, read for hours and be with myself. I've lost the need to connect with others. I've no need for social invitations, outings, not even a friend's company.

Books are my life, right now. When I'm stuck, I'd open a book and sure enough, there'd be a one-liner that pops up from the page delivering the answer to my problem. When I'm bored, I'd read a poem and feel instant joy from the exquisite way words create images in my mind. A good poetry delights me with its surprising way of looking at ordinary things in the most extraordinary manner.

I don't know how long this reclusion period is going to last. I need to find some answers to my life right now.

Post-breakup lunch

2005-11-07T17:33:00.000+08:00

I had lunch with my ex-boyfriend, Mr. J yesterday.

It's strange how comfortable we're with each other, now that we're not seeing each other. We're back to talking, laughing and sharing stories. He still makes me laugh. It's been yonks since I saw his eyes crinkle when he laughs. It's been months since I've seen him looking well-rested, calm and happy. I won't deny that my heart skipped a beat when I saw him at his best, relaxed self. That's the real him whom I like very much and respect.

He's making a huge effort to slowly diminish clubbing out of his life. And even cutting down on cigarettes. Simply because in the past, I had refused to kiss his foul-tasting mouth, after his puffing those nasty cigarettes.

I know you're all dying to know- "Are you guys getting back together?"

Nope. We're not getting back together although we still like each other. Yesterday, he held my hand and wouldn't let go while chatting and lunching. And I couldn't take my hand out of his.

When he said goodbye to me, his face fell and his eyes were filled with sadness. But quickly, he pulled himself together and grinned at me and tapped my nose lightly. I smiled back and said goodbye.

For once, I didn't walk away with any lingering hope or heavy regret. One thing I know for sure. I'm moving on to the unknown.

Baking bliss

2005-11-04T22:51:00.000+08:00

To me, happiness is lying on my bed, with my cookbooks sprawled around me while I randomly flip through pages contemplating on what to bake.

This afternoon, I had the most luxurious time alone, baking a sherry cherry cake. It was a typical british teatime cake which I found on a British daily website - The Guardian.

The cake was crumbly, moist and just delicious. The recipe was really easy and quick to make. It's one of the easiest cake I've ever baked. Really, baking is my feel-good activity. The sheer delight of seeing the golden brown crust of the cake and the gentle, sweet aroma wafting to the whole house reminds me that I could stay home alone all day and do nothing but bake.

However, yesterday was a big contrast - I was surrounded with people and yet, I was a complete grouch. I went to a Raya Open House with two single 40-something women, whom one of them was a client. It was an obligatory outing as I thought I do my small part on pleasing the client, outside work. But I was utterly wrong.

Both of them unwittingly made me feel disappointed with my single self. I was interrogated on my single status and reminded that I've still got time to make more 'relationship mistakes'. Soon, it dawned on me that I was glaringly single again.

Ever since, I broke up with Mr. J, I've never really sat down and thought about my single self. At the end of the day, I was tetchy, irritated and was in dire need of solitude. I wanted so badly to get away from those two hopelessly desperate women.

Today, I realised what I've been missing. Over the past few months, my life has been crowded with people and social outings which I wasn't particularly keen of. I barely had time alone to hear myself think.

Honestly, solitude is the best company I could ever ask for.

Just one more

2005-10-30T08:27:00.000+08:00

Not too far from the little quaint library, there's the oldest garden in Macau- St. Francisco Garden. It has century-old stone balustrade, where Laine & I heaved ourselves up to sit under giant, shady trees. Around us, there were old folks, sitting on the benches, reading the paper and chatting loudly.

Further up the garden, we discovered another quaint little building, but this time, cylinder shaped in pretty pink and white.

I was completely overjoyed! The little cyclinder building was like a little magical castle. It was so pretty and so charming.

This lovely round tower was built to honour the combatants of the First World War but today houses the Headquarters for the Association of the Handicapped.

Whimsical inspiration

2005-10-26T16:38:00.000+08:00

In Macau, I fell in love with this little library. I first saw it when Laine & I rode the bus back to the hotel. It was night and there were people inside the building, reading. The next morning, I told Laine we simply must go search for the little library. But we had no idea where it was. And I could only quietly keep my fingers crossed and hope for the best.

While traipsing through Macau Square, we decided to have tea which was Portugese egg tarts at the famous Nata Coco's bakery. I tell you, the egg tarts were simply divine. Up till today, I'm still dreaming about them. The pastry was soft, buttery, light and airy and the egg custard simply melts in your mouth. After tea, we walked to the main road to take a cab back to the hotel. Suddenly, Laine exclaimed and pointed frantically,"Oh there it is! Your library!" But alas, it was closed (as it was a Sunday). Still, I was delighted to take photos and walked around and have a closer look at the quaint little library.

Yesterday, I googled and discovered the quaint little library was built in 1958 and is shaped octagonal. I even found a photo which showed an octagon table inside the building.

Imagine a bakery inside this little building. That would be absolutely marvellous! I could have a tall octagon glass display in the middle of the shop where customers could walk round, admiring delicately iced cupcakes, fairy cakes, little-tiered cakes, cookies piled neatly in small pyramids. And by the wall, there'd be little tables for little tea session. It'd be my small whimsical bakery.

Sigh! I can only dream on...

Post-HK blues

2005-10-23T17:17:00.000+08:00

It's tough shifting back to your everyday routine when you had a gloriously wonderful holiday. Since back, I've been dreaming of the delicious dimsum especially chili squid, Yung Kee's roast duck, superbe egg tarts and the many delectable pastries.

Unexpectedly, I'm missing Laine badly. The other night, I dreamt her telling me something very important. I only managed to spend half my holiday with her as she had to leave for a business trip, a few days before my holiday ended. Funny how insignificant so-called friends in KL seem now. Laine will always be the only friend who completely understand me, without ever trying.

My most memorable moments in Hong Kong are those not captured on camera. WHen your camera battery runs out and you do not have a camera to capture images, your perceptory sense are heightened.

Best moments of my trip:

1. Watching towering buildings at Hong Kong Central lit up, one by one, while enjoying the cool sea breeze at Harbour City. It was if Tinkerbell fairy flew from one building to another, lightly touching each building with fairy dust from her magic wand.

2. Marvelling at the amazing array of baking tins and cooking equipment in shops at Shanghai Street, Kowloon.

3. Sunday and Public holidays transform the bustling, cosmopolitan Hong Kong Island into some kind of Maid Land. Goodness, I was alarmed to see the whole of Hong Kong Island swarming with hordes and hordes of maids on practically every street, park, staircase, pavement and walkway during the Chung Yeung festival public holiday on October 12.

A thousand steps to clarity

2005-10-17T08:10:00.000+08:00

Yes, everyone. It was Hong Kong. The last photo was a dead giveaway. Who wouldn't have guess it was Hong Kong with the guardian fu dog and the famous Bank of China in the background?

I went to Hong Kong at the invitation of my good friend Laine. We've been friends for years and ever since she relocated to Hong Kong in 2002, she has repeatedly invited me over. Initially I was reluctant as I was never comfortable around her boyfriend who is one intensely private and quiet person. However, last month I sensed Laine had some serious issue she'd wanted to get off her chest during our online midnight chats. Out of the blue, she invited me and automatically, I said, "Yes, I'll come over."

In Hong Kong, I've walked thousands of steps, judging from the number of hours I walked (9am-8pm). Walking has always been my favourite thing to do, especially when traveling solo. For years, I've followed a book on creativity - The Artist's Way by Julia Cameron, in which she recommends a 20 minute daily walk to refill and refresh the creative self.

I do the daily walks whenever I can. It has helped me gotten unstuck from work and life daily problems. Last week in Hong Kong, I walked into a different realm. I came back, feeling as if I've shedded my pre-Hong Kong self completely. Now, I feel shiny, new, lighter and freer.

Also, my daily life has taken a new routine. Since the trip, I've taken a strange liking to drinking coffee in the morning and being concentratedly focus at work in the morning and late at night.

A solo trip is a life-changing experience. Just getting away from your current situation allows you to take a step back and see what's going on in life. Slowly, you'll let go of a life you've been hanging on stubbornly, even though it hasn't been doing you any good.

So, there're some life-turning changes in my life since I came back.

I've ended things with Mr. J as I realised I couldn't be possibly happy with a boyfriend who hates traveling and discovering life apart from partying, drinking and clubbing every weekend. Subconsciously, I resented his apathetic self which has absolutely no interest in life beside clubbing and partying every weekend. We lead completely different lifestyles. Our lives don't complement each other. In the end, I got increasingly irritated and weary at trying to fit my life into his noisy and crowded life.

Though he is compatible with me in every way- emotionally, physically and intellectually, I could never be happy with a man who just want to have fun all the time. We never did anything together. The only thing we did was clubbing, where I had reluctantly dragged my feet there. Just so I could be with him. Though he has told me repeatedly that he saw his future with me. I know better than to hang around and wait for things to change. It was glaringly obvious that he hasn't shown me my place in his future.

Hong Kong was my turning point. It wa's either I stay with him or I move on to my larger-than-life goals. The long, labourous, solitary walks taught me in order to keep momentum in my life, I've got to move.

And move, I did.

Back

2005-10-13T10:00:00.000+08:00

I'm back and good from the trip.

Take a closer look at the photo and see if you can instantly guess where I was for the last 7 days. :)

My legs are supertoned from walking countless steps and backbreaking super inclining pavements. My tummy bloated from eating very high MSG content but yummy rice and noodle dishes almost everyday. My low maintanence free-sprited self slowly morphed into a high maintanence hissy princess towards the end. More stories to come later.

A trip anywhere is good for the mind and spirit. During my flight back, I was filled with a strong resolve to do all things I've always wanted to do in my life.

Yes, travelling is good for the weary, disillusioned and cynical self.

All set to jet

2005-10-06T10:45:00.000+08:00

I'm all ready to board the plane tonight. Can't wait to be at the place-which-I-shall-not-name-for-now.

Just when I'm about to leave the country, "haven't heard from you for a long time" clients have asking me to work on their projects. And that's precisely why I'm getting away from it all- work stress and incessant client badgering.

Wouldn't it be lovely to go away for a long, long time? And come back with a wealth of experiences, stories and a well-stock memory bank of images that you can only experience on a solo holiday.

Onflight reading supply - unwrapped Vogue mag and Jungle Lipstick by Candace Bushnell and my golden starry notebook (in case I'm hit by a sudden writing impluse)

Zonked out from hypersomnia*

2005-10-03T14:40:00.000+08:00

I took a nap yesterday evening at around 5 o'clock, only to wake up at 6 this morning, realising that I've slept a total of 13 hours.

Insane! And I wasn't even tired or anything. I'd only wanted a quick doze to refresh my tired eyes from reading "A Personal History".

My mind hasn't transited from Sunday. This morning, I cheerfully walked out of the house, wondering why my bag felt magically lighter. Only when I'd wanted to make a call, then I realised I had forgotten my handphone and my silver, starry notebook which I scribble important notes.

After 13 hours of sleep, I'm strangely exhausted, lethargic and in a rather foul mood. It was a case of too much sleep. Paradoxically, I feel completely unrested and ungrounded, as if my mind is all over the place. It was a first-hand experience in somnambulance and vertigo. I don't ever want to live through my day like in this dazed, confused and hazy state again.

* Lesson learnt - There's such a thing called hypersomnia; which is a sleep condition opposite of insomnia! Hypersomnia means excessive sleep.

Gearing up

2005-10-01T20:08:00.000+08:00

I went bag-mad today. In preparation for my trip to the place-which-I-shall-not-mention-for-now, I bought 3 bags. Two fabric bags from the very talented Rina Matsui's Flowerdrum; which holds a monthly sale at Bangsar Utama.

The minute I walked into Flowerdrum's workshop, I saw a beige sling bag with olive green floral pattern. I just fell in love with the design and the colour- I had to have it although the bag does not have a zip to secure the opening. The only snag about Flowerdrum bags is most bags don't have secure zips or velcros, but the fabrics are just so gorgeous. Besides the sling bag, I bought a funky pink hold-all bag which I don't really need. I'm one for supporting locally grown brands.

The sling bag which I fell in love with

Love the hot pink colour

After purchasing these gorgeous Flowerdrum bags, I drove to KLCC in search for a proper traveling bag. As I checked out the shops there, I had absolutely no idea which brand to buy. I'm so out of touch with the hip-and-so-in-now brands.

As long as the bag fits on my hip just nice and has nifty compartments to store a passport and a million other things when traveling, I'm perfectly happy. So I found myself the perfect sling bag at the Travel Gear shop. It's an unknown brand. Anyone heard of Eagle Creek? Noooooo. I can hear you all say. But it's just the right size, has cleverly designed compartments, a back pocket and front flap and even pen compartments. All it matters is- I like.

Half-regretted buying a boring black one. This brown with pink zips looks nicer here but black is easier to match. Gotta be practical sometimes.

Precious Sundays

2005-09-26T18:15:00.000+08:00

I like my Sundays coz I experiment with a new recipe for lunch, potter around and have a 3-hour CSI marathon on Astro's AXN channel in the afternoon. After watching CSI, I take a nice, leisurely drive to the KL Memorial Library where it's nice, quiet and cool from the air-conditioning.

Once a week, I get to revel in my book geekiness; strolling in and out of every book aisle, checking out the book titles. And the best thing is I have zero expectations in finding the right book that suits my current mood, psychological need and emotional state. Most of the time, I'd end up with books that I'd almost bought in the past but didn't because of the pricey tag. By the end of evening, I leave the library, pleased as a peach, with an armful books which equals to a month's worth of reading.

Mr. J, on the other hand, complains that his Sundays are boring as hell. Ah well, what do you expect? He still hasn't grown out from the clubbing mode and has to recuperate on Sunday. I've been trying very hard to not morph into a nagging girlfriend. So, I've pretty much left him to his clubbing lifestyle while I live my weekends in absolute domestic peace and happiness.

Gals, here're some very important lessons in a relationship:
1. Never go into a relationship expecting to change your man.
2. You gotta do your own thing which feeds you.
3. Being in a relationship doesn't necessarily brings you happiness as quoted by Candace Bushnell, author of Sex & the City.

Anyway, here's some of the great library finds from yesterday:

A collection of essays on why we're all caught up in this modern social condition aptly named status anxiety .

Read the first chapter last night- beautifully written with with a sense of foreboding.

Katharine Graham was the most respected & powerful woman in America's newspaper industry. She rebuilt her late husband's Washington Post paper to become America's most powerful political paper with exclusive reports on the Watergate Scandal, Nixon's downfall and other important American political events. I'm not a fan of American history but am curious about Mrs. Graham who knew nuts about running a newspaper publication which she took over, after her husband's death.

Making my pick

2005-09-20T16:38:00.000+08:00

3.2 Megapixels or 5.0 megapixels?
I guess I'll settle for a Canon IXUS 30 and not the IXUS 50. After all, I'll be taking snapshots and not postershots. Plus I'm mega-broke to spend RM1,500 for a IXUS 50.

Studio or 2-bedroom apartment?
Studio for me coz I have always had this vision of living in my very own "Carrrie Bradshaw" apartment. Plus I wouldn't have extra space to clean or be petrified at night imagining "noises" coming from the other room.

This is how I like my own space to be. A very lived-in apartment. Not too big. Just nice for me. Lots of quirky artpieces and one-off furniture pieces and a nice, solid bookshelf for my ever-growing collection of books, back-dated magazines that I can't seem to throw away and out-of-place files for mundane daily stuff.

* Carrie's apartment photos from HBO.com

Though I really like the space arrangement in Carrie Bradshaw's apartment, the colours are rather dull and a little too urbane. I'd enliven the space with colours. Living- ochre yellow walls and white cushion covers. Bedroom - light green walls and crisp white sheets. Kitchen- white & ming blue colour theme.

Ain't no more kreteks

2005-09-19T16:37:00.000+08:00

Ever since I discovered those damn kreteks, I had a bizarre croaky throat condition that'd suddenly flare up, usually on the day after I puffed a kretek or two.

It's not an ordinary sore throat where your throat feel painfully swollen and your glands get all red and inflamed. Instead, what I'd experienced was a very dry throat and a croaky voice. My voice dipped a pitch lower that people couldn't recognise me over the phone.

Eh, don't bluff lah. You're not Cupcake Queen. You don't sound like her.

Wey, it's me lah. Doesn't your screen say my name and number?

Hold on, lemme check ... Yeah-oh, it's you. Why you sound so old?

Tired of always explaning of my bizarre throat affliction and downing$ copious glasses of water to combat the extreme Siberian throaty dryness, I've decided to quit smoking last week.

Yes, once and for all. No more kreteks. No more Cartier Vendome.

In a ceremonial mode, I burned all my cigarettes and flushed away the ashy remnants down the toilet bowl.

And you know what. My skin has never looked better. I feel a whole lot better. Yes, I sleep better and think clearer.

Sad to say but I gotta say this.

Boys and gals, ladies and gentlemen. Cigarettes are bad for you.

Do you have a blog?

2005-09-18T11:55:00.000+08:00

Uhm, no. Why? I peered nonchalently at Mr. J from the book I was reading.

Nothing, just wondering coz you're always writing in your little notebooks.

Well, he doesn't know about Cupcake Queen and I'm going to keep it this way. None of my friends know. I've never mentioned blogging to anyone. I've never spoken of blogs in my conversations with people.

This is my one and only secret.