tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-70181507092961524492024-03-12T23:36:06.303-07:00Welcome to my complicated worldWhere I get to share bits of my heart and soul Charmvivehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03628786182753217818noreply@blogger.comBlogger14125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7018150709296152449.post-31003832861837713512015-07-19T00:04:00.002-07:002015-07-19T08:24:16.630-07:00From Whiteboards to Chalkboards<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(130, 98, 83, 0.0980392); color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.701961); font-family: UICTFontTextStyleBody; font-size: 17px; text-decoration: -webkit-letterpress;"><i><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><i>*Disclaimer: The views and opinions reflect my own personal experiences. It is not meant to generalize any type of parenting and neither is it intended to undermine anyone's circumstances. This post is about my own journey; unique to my situation. </i></div></i></span>
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Since changing profession to be a stay-at-home-mom (SAHM), the question I most often get is, "How are you getting used to the life?" Or something similar. "It's been very different," is my common answer. But I feel like expressing it now with a more elaborate response. So here are a few major issues I deal with in terms of the change.<br>
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<b>Sense of achievement </b></div>
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When I used to be working in the corporate world, results were more instantaneous. That made me feel more recognized and more acknowledged for my efforts and talents. <span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">As a trainer, the amount of people I connected with and the impact of my work was easily evident. Thus work satisfaction based on the outcome was almost always immediate. </span>Decisions I made daily may be important but most times didn't involve life or death or lifelong circumstances (it did at times, for sure). </div>
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You can imagine now as a mom, things are almost at that opposite spectrum. Most things I do now has a much longer-term goal. I can't see immediate results most days and I don't get a lot of affirmation that what I'm doing is making a positive difference. It's pretty scary to think how every decision I make now may or may not, for instance, emotionally scar my kids. But I won't know the outcome until much later (or worst, when it's too late). That's a lot of pressure! </div>
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<b>My stakeholders</b></div>
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I love dealing with clients. No, I'm not kidding. The belief I have is that every client is important. They are after all why your business exists. Most of them are predictable and I've always found it positively challenging to deliver customers' expectations, sometimes even beyond. And for those bizarre encounters with one-of-a-kind customer, well...they make for interesting conversations. However, my experiences with bosses, may not always be as pleasant. Some were not very nice people, some were not very competent, and some...were a combination of that. </div>
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Right now my customers are all but 3 humans that are not even legal to do most things; 2 of whom can't go on most rides in amusement parks. Yet, they are the most difficult of clients I've had to manage. The 2 older ones goes to school and have tons of activities outside of that. Then my third, the bubs, is still learning skills to function as a little person. This customer service counter doesn't close. These clients are relentless in their demands and expectations. And oh my lord, the questions they throw at you! There are no FAQs and there are no answers that ever gives them any closure. However, luckily my boss now (the one who brings home the bacon and pays me) is a funny and generous fella. And he's always genuine in wanting to make me happy. </div>
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<b>Work environment </b></div>
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I enjoyed the process of dressing up, looking well presented everyday when I go to work in an office. I loved doing work in my own corner cubicles and meeting rooms. I looked forward to meeting my clients and helping them with their needs. I'm happy to have meals and breaks with my colleagues and bosses. I got to have my own time attending to things for myself, before I head home and have to deal with all my kids' issues. I even got to use the toilet in private! </div>
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Now, my wardrobe consists of practical items i.e easy to launder and needless to iron. Every time I see an episode of Mad Men, I wonder how in the world can a woman do her hair, nails, make up and dress up pretty everyday while staying home doing house chores and cook. When I think about how my hubby sees me in the mornings (with my gaping mouth, still sleeping in my overly exhausted state, with the bubs lying on my face), surely not much is needed to make a better impression at the end of the day for when he comes back! My work station is my kitchen. I believe I spend 80% of my day standing in there. But the view, beats any corner office I've ever had. Seeing my kids grow up before my eyes, is a privilege that I do not want to trade off. And although even going to the toilet means having an audience, holding-bubs-to-sleep time means more to me than any alone time. </div>
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<b>Appraisal and reviews</b> </div>
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The most dreaded part of the year, was having to do appraisals. The sheer amount of evidence provided to show you've accomplished something in that year. To proof that they would still need you for another year to come. But when it's a good year, through this process (if done properly), a person's confidence and even self worth can soar. Makes a lot of things endured feel worth it. And getting feedback is always good for growth. Peer and customer reviews also show for all the work one's accomplished.</div>
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Now my yearly appraisals come back in the form of school reports and health check up reports. My achievements are not my own anymore. I feel like everything I do now gets judged by how well my kids are doing. When my daughter can't make friends, it becomes my responsibility to fix it. When my son can't score well in school, it's me not coaching him enough. When my bubs throws a tantrum, it's my fault for spoiling him. My KPIs are all tied to my kids' agenda (and sometimes the husband's) or how well I've up kept the home. <span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Every night I pray I do a better job at being a SAHM, but every day as it progresses I find myself unravel, and then feel like a complete failure again at the end of the day. It's a tough job! </span></div>
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As a parent, getting feedback is a humbling experience. I get more defensive when I've been criticized now, than I did when I was in the corporate world because I realize the stakes are higher. And can we talk about peer reviews?! As a mom who needs advice and wisdom from other moms, one may ask family members, may join Facebook groups, or visit forums and blogs. One may also seek support from local mothers groups, either from school, church or play groups. But nearly in all these social or social media circles, I in turn find unwanted judgement. Everything I do seems to be wrong! Nothing that I do is good enough! There's no win. I get judged for things like not changing bub's diapers often enough, to how disgusting I am using wet wipes on my toddler's face. Yeah, I let my kids eat McDonald's, get over it. There is no win. According to everyone else, I'm a horrible parent. </div>
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Customer reviews are the toughest. It's hard to explain to an upset 9 year old that although I didn't like her behavior in a certain situation, doesn't mean I don't love her. It's hard to get a 5 star rating from my well behaved 8 year old when I say 'No' to that toy he wants to buy. It's hard to earn employee of the year with the bubs who wants nothing but my full attention when I've got the stove cooking dinner. It's hard to be extremely sweet to the hubby when you've had 3 screaming kids in your face all day. </div>
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Compensation and reward </b></div>
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And the most anticipated time of the year back in the corporate world was the time for bonus, pay increment and promotion. It's when you get rewarded for all your hard work and see how much the organization values you. It's an exciting time but also can be devastatingly disappointing. People still do not believe me when I tell them that my first pay rise was a meager RM8! But I think subsequently I did quite well and have been quite happy with the way I was compensated. Benefits were also good, as I was lucky to have been in managerial positions in respectable companies for most of my corporate working life. </div>
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The compensation, benefits and reward scheme now is a bit sketchy to say the least. The thing I miss most about my previous occupation is my own money. What I earned, I can use it however I deem fit, without any guilt or accountability to another. Now, managing the household finances is a strict process. So my bonus may come in a form of a new dress, instead of months of income. My benefits includes daily hugs and kisses and 'I love you's from my 'clients' and 'boss'. My increment equivalent may be added household chores that my kids volunteer for. And how does my reward look like? When my son held out his piggy bank to his dad and me, and said, "I want to thank you both so here, you can have all my money." </div>
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So ask me again, how my life's like now as a SAHM? At times it's tears, screaming, exasperating, exhausting, hectic, thankless, routined, lonely. But mostly, it's goodness. And patience. And kindness. And all things love. </div>
Charmvivehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03628786182753217818noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7018150709296152449.post-31194717134533648212012-07-21T11:13:00.001-07:002012-07-21T20:55:15.939-07:00A Eulogy | Things My Daddy Taught Me<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; text-align: left;">I always viewed my daddy to be immortal. To me, I couldn't imagine a life without him. When I was younger, the song "Butterfly Kisses" will always make me cry. Because every time I heard it, I hear my dad's words to me. And every time I heard it, it makes me think of the day he would eventually leave me. Now that it has come to past, it is more unbearable than any sorrow I had been through yet. I also cannot believe that he's actually gone.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I admire him tremendously and often speak about him in my conversations. I spoke of him in my recent blog about Bersih 3.0 which I am glad thousands got to hear. When I am giving training, I talk about him and about things he's taught me. And as I lay him to rest today, I think about all he's passed on to me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He taught me to never stop learning. Retired at the age 55 from the police force, his inquisitive mind will not let him stop. He continued working almost till his dying day. He's had at least 3 different jobs since his career as a police officer - from property development to food manufacturing to managing foreign labour. Every one of them required him to learn everything from scratch. But learning gave him joy. And knowledge gave him power. He shared his knowledge generously to those who wanted to learn. And from that, I made learning into what I do for a living. I live to learn, and I try to pass on whatever knowledge I have gained.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He taught me to protect the people you love. He literally rather die than to see us suffer. And that he did. When I was a child, I frequently complained about his over protectiveness. As childish ignorance vanished and I begun to see the world for what it actually is, I understood that he did that because he didn't want anything to harm me, even if it meant that I 'hated' him for brief moments. As I became a parent myself, I understood the reasoning that he'd rather hurt himself than have anything hurt me. He also loved his country. He spent his whole life sacrificing himself to protect the people in it. So now is my turn, to continue to protect the people he loves.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He taught me the value of charity. He looked after people who couldn't look after themselves. I witnessed first hand since I was a child, how he brought joy to the needy. He would bring us along on his food distribution trips to the homeless. We helped him do this 3 times a year at least. People stood in line waiting for their ration of which my dad personally purchased. I saw him make a difference to people who felt hopeless. And he allowed me to play a part in that giving of hope. Till now, I continue to do my part in charity, and it is because he showed me how and taught me why.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He taught me the art of story telling; that of which he learnt from his mother. The ability to capture his audience with fascinating tales that make them ponder, reflect. Stories that paint pictures of a mysterious time and era past. Stories that draw out insights, make you laugh and make you cry. </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When he lost his voice because of the tumor, I sensed his frustration. </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">His passion for sharing treasured memories and thrilling adventures is what drives me to to the same. In my work and in my conversations, this is one skill that I appreciate the most. The ability to draw an audience in and keep them interested fuels my </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">appetite</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> to speak with meaning. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He taught me about unconditional love, how even in moments of unimaginable suffering as long as love exists, nothing is impossible to bear. Even in his last hours experiencing excruciating pain, he smiled so that we can feel loved. No matter what I have done, it never changed his love for me. He loved without expectations, without limitations and without hesitation. When I decided to drop out of university and forgo my scholarship to pursue my own path, he welcomed me home with open arms and went out of his way to show support for pursuit of my dreams. He showed me that love is not expressed in words alone, but in a continuous act of giving - giving of one's time, heart and soul. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As I carry his ashes in my arms, I accept - the fact that he has asked me to please let him go. But I miss him dearly. I've never felt safe except when he's around. How am I ever to feel that sense of security now that he's gone? But I do know one thing, and that is I will be okay. Many friends and family worry about me, that I might not be able to handle his passing well. But although I am beyond sad, my daddy has taught me one more thing...strength. </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">There are times where we feel down and out, but nothing ever breaks our will and spirit. We conquer fears, disappointments, heartaches and failures, and we rise above it to start all over again. We will not be defeated. Call us stubborn, but we are built to withstand any storm that comes our way.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So even though cancer may seem to have won this battle, he did not lose. He went on his own terms, and left us strength to carry on. But most importantly, his victory in life is that his legacy lives on. He died a man without regrets, proud, and surrounded by the people he loved the most. After all, isn't that what's life all about?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I love you Daddy. I miss you so much. Thank you for being my hero. Rest in peace. </span></div>
<br />Charmvivehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03628786182753217818noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7018150709296152449.post-48155002250315338842012-04-30T04:35:00.003-07:002012-04-30T10:47:13.375-07:00They Were All Yellow – My Bersih 3.0 Story<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><em>”For you I'll bleed myself dry” - Yellow by Coldplay</em></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Morning of 428. That was the song that was stuck in my head as I got ready to attend Bersih 3.0 rally. I put on my yellow t-shirt and sang ”oh yeah, they were all yellow”.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I wasn't there last year. When I read my friends' accounts of Bersih 2.0 and watched the video footage, I cried. I had my reasons not to be there and it was not because I didn't agree with the cause. So as I watched my friends and fellow countrymen got treated like pariah dogs running away from dog catchers, I died a little inside. There was one voice in particular, from the numerous videos posted, that still haunts me till today. A young lady crying out to the police, ”Is this what you stand for?! That you would hurt your own people?” Her voice was used in one of the Bersih 3.0 'trailers'. And the anguish in her voice echoed many of our sentiments. I on the other hand wanted to shout back (into the monitor nonetheless) ”That is not true!” Because if it is, my whole childhood would have been a lie. Let me explain.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">My daddy served in the police force since he was 18, since the British colonial times. I grew up with the police around me. But none closer than the men and women of the Federal Reserve Unit (FRU). The riot police as people call them. You see, my daddy was heading one of the FRU units the last few years before his retirement. During Chinese New Year, FRU families will cook for us and help my family host 'open house'. FRU trucks will be parked in front of our house, dropping off policemen and women of all races. We were probably the only Chinese family that served rendang chicken and roti jala during this season. I understood the concept of 'muhibah' and of 1Malaysia way before Najib made it into an enterprise.</span>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">At times when my daddy couldn't pick me up from school, one of these FRU men will come by and make sure I got home safely. I grew up trusting that they will protect me. And they would do anything to make sure no one harmed me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br />So understand this. On 428, when tear gassed was fired, and I had to run away from the FRU - the same people whom I trusted my life with - it broke my heart. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I'm sure by now you would have read all you could have on what went down that Saturday. You would have memorized the sequence of events blow by blow. And I will bear testament to all you have read and witnessed. Initially the atmosphere was fiesta like. I haven't felt such excitement from a crowd since World Cup Finals day in Paris back in 1998. However, when things changed for the worse as I was running away from the non stop tear gas ambush from Masjid Jamek to Central Market, I kept my eyes peeled for anything that would resemble the country I love. And here is what I witnessed.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">People of all age, race and gender, turned to us and asked if we needed salt or water. We came ill prepared because we actually believed it wouldn't turn ugly this year. All we had was a hand towel. No one pushed, shoved or turned violent. No one looted, robbed or stole (I think even the common snatch thieves decided to put down their interest for the day for a bigger cause). We were all trying to disperse but couldn't because train services was stopped and tear gas was coming from all directions. But in the midst of it all, the beef noodle stall was still open for business and people stopped to eat. How Malaysian is that? Standing by the sidewalks eating bowls of noodles while the rest of us trying to find a way out of the 'war zone'.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">As we walked towards Petaling Street, we came across DaiMaCai and Sports Toto shops that were still open. It's Saturday. So, life goes on, yellow shirt or not. I saw a few chinese uncles telling each other to stop from running away, they had to go buy number. Despite the mood of the situation, I couldn't help but laugh. I wanted to take a photo of them, but the tear gas was being blown at our direction so I had to keep moving. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">We were walking towards the famous Air Mata Kuching stall in Petaling Street. My husband wanted one cup of that magic potion, so we went. There were tourists milling about the place, I think not really sure what is happening. As we were approaching the stall, another group of protesters ran pass us and shouted for us to go because more tear gas was coming. Immediately I could feel my eyes tearing again. I quickly covered my nose and mouth, and we ran into some back alley. By now, I was just fed up.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">We came out at the other side of the alley, emerged at the other end of Petaling Street. "Do you still want the mata kuching or not?" I asked my husband. "Should we?!" He was hesitant to walk back into the same place where everyone was running out from. I said yes, took the towel and covered my face, and walked right back into Petaling Street. As we went 'against traffic', I had only one thing in mind. No, it's not that the air mata kuching was that awesome I had to risk getting arrested for. Is that I refuse to be terrorised in my own country by my own people. It's a free country. I will walk to the stall and get myself a drink, thank you very much. Eyes stinging, throat burning - I drank the mata kuching. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">Ok, trying to head to the Tau Fu Far stall next was a bit of a challenge. So we walked on towards Central Market, trying to get on the trains. I was finally able to Facebook, and quickly posted some of my thoughts and pictures. When we were going up, people told us that the trains had also been stopped at this station. I was surprised though, not because the train stopped, but how calm everyone was about it. I have seen worse reaction on a normal day from people during unexpected train breakdowns heading back from work. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">I got home safe and sound, back to reality. The next thought was, I needed to face the wrath of my daddy. Sunday when I 'debriefed' him and my family what went on, he explained about certain actions that was taken. For instance, trains had to stop because high voltage tracks and moving trains would have caused serious injuries to people who would jump on tracks trying to flee the scene. People were denied legal representation, and it was within a Police Act to do so for the first 24 hours. The debate went on for a bit and my mummy finally asked the mother of all questions, "So what did you all achieve that day?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">I tried to answer, but under my daddy's watchful eyes, meaningful words failed me. So I turned on YouTube and showed my parents the "Same Day Edit" video that most of my friends were sharing on social media. Stunned silence came after. Where I could not find my voice, 80000 other Malaysians help me speak up.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: x-small;">I am your typical Malaysian. A 4th generation Chinese born and raised in Malaysia. I am a mother of two young energetic children. I am your middle class average Jane Doe. I am a professional working 9 - 5. I studied here, married here, worked here and have never lived abroad. I did not go out on 428 because I have a terrible life. I did not go out because I am not loyal to my country or her rulers. I did not go out because I am a dumb wit bought by the opposition to cause trouble. I went because I love my country. I went because I am Malaysian. And thank you all who stood next to me that day to help me reaffirm that. </span>Charmvivehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03628786182753217818noreply@blogger.com33tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7018150709296152449.post-58597786814379780152009-12-18T10:25:00.000-08:002009-12-18T11:04:37.516-08:00Perfect Moments<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">T</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">here are moments in your life, that you will forever remember clearly. Every detail. It burns in your mind forever, because of the people and feelings involved. And those moments, albeit rare, will remain the perfect moments in our lives.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Holding my daughter's hand now as she is trying desperately to get a good night's sleep, the sounds of her cough and congested nose strikes at my heart like a sharp knife. And it is in this sad moment, that again my mind brings me back to that evening. One of those perfect moments in my life.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I was lying on the couch of our own first home with my one year old daughter sitting beside me reading a picture book. I was falling in and out of sleep because I was tired from work and also because I was pregnant with my son. We were all waiting for my husband to come home from work. And as I heard his footsteps at the corridor, and then him using his keys to open the door, my heart was filled with joy. When he stepped in, smiled at us, I felt my life was perfect. I have never had so much love in my life. It was a simple moment. Nothing extraordinary. But yet, it was perfect. It was everything I ever dream of. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">And then I went on to chase my empty dreams again. Forever trying to find those perfect moments. As if I have come a full circle, no matter how far I went to find those moments, whenever I think about having a perfect moment, my memory brings me back to that evening again. If only every moment of our lives where as surreal and perfect like that. But then again, we wouldn't cherish it as much if that was the case now, would we?</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:verdana;"><br /></span></div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwbMBhmhah-ck3ypwYG-1BvI3fZ1vcz7wnCLrdA7BFS8xzWoHfclsfu0II02JkkJ-vC8ikXGgpoZGFNM-lVIeovLe3aqQ9b-J1Jbznlfgy0N2HrVrctzxXHkvE7KVr6D62kpIxZHoybEM/s320/DSCN3490.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5416651721493376610" />Charmvivehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03628786182753217818noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7018150709296152449.post-14554811882902122652009-09-30T22:42:00.000-07:002009-09-30T23:54:23.513-07:00People Food - Not for Dogs<div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Quite a number of friends have asked me before about what kinds of food are dogs not allowed to have. I actually have been keeping this list, so might as well share it with you right? (I am sorry to cat owners, because I really don't know much about them or their dietary requirements).</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';color:#333333;"><br /></span></div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihhJDEu3ji2w8f0QkWRdeS0y7lfiSPncgOLFzGMCzeK_Y555hddDB9xrenAccAwg2csPoQdnoUX_TttM41gZIaKtbEDnKMXclooc22LvTCJwE0f5onoGhNO-57Mcs5Rpey9s69SNUtAos/s400/n597432399_1125100_8220.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387512345163259634" /><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><blockquote></blockquote></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-weight: bold; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333399;">Grapes and Raisins</span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333399;">Grapes and raisins can cause kidney failure in dogs. As little as a single serving of raisins can kill a dog.</span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333399;"><br /></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333399;">Onions</span></b></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333399;">Onions destroy red blood cells and can cause anemia. </span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333399;"><br /></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333399;">Chocolate</span></b></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333399;">Chocolate can cause seizures, coma and death. Baker's chocolate is the most dangerous. A dog can consume milk chocolate and appear to be fine because it is not as concentrated, but it is still dangerous.</span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333399;"><br /></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333399;">Coffee, coffee grounds, tea and tea bags</span></b></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333399;">Drinks/foods containing caffeine cause many of the same symptoms chocolate causes.</span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333399;"><br /></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333399;">Macadamia Nuts</span></b></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse;"><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333399;">Macadamia nuts can cause weakness, muscle tremor and paralysis. </span></span></span></span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333399;">Limit all other nuts as they are not good for dogs in general, their high phosphorous content is said to possibly lead to bladder stones. Exception to this rule is PEANUTS and PEANUT BUTTER. </span></span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333399;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:small;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333399;">Tomatoes</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333399;">Tomatoes can cause tremors and heart arrhythmia. Tomato plants and the most toxic, but tomatoes themselves are also unsafe.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333399;"><br /></span></span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; "><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:small;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333399;">Avocados</span></b></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333399;">The fruit, pit and plant are all toxic. They can cause difficulty breathing and fluid accumulation in the chest, abdomen and heart.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333399;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333399;">Nutmeg</span></b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333399;">Nutmeg can cause tremors, seizures and death.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';color:#333399;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333399;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold; ">Apples, Cherries, Peaches and similar fruit</span></span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333399;">The seeds of these fruits contain cyanide, which is poisonous to dogs as well as humans. Unlike humans, dogs do not know to stop eating at the core/pit and easily ingest them. It can also become lodged in the intestines and kill the dog in 24 hours with no warning.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#333333;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(51, 51, 51); ">Hope this at least helped a little. Keep your doggies safe and healthy. From my Sunshine & Snow to your pups.</span></div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0L8-xE62zAy7LgHuNDXT5lLTdUYZy-o-Wg4MJ4-6B2GvK2cMR_M-fSFBDTUMmBiGKMx6wcWSrNXihsWTrwSsT6x-tO4HFFsgms_DvrcAyoGl45j_neNHdYU6Z2oJ7OW1iOjqWS_95PTk/s320/s597432399_1125099_7754.jpg" style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 130px; height: 97px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387512664278011682" /></span></span></span></div>Charmvivehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03628786182753217818noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7018150709296152449.post-88498143313197772102009-05-26T21:49:00.000-07:002009-05-26T23:05:17.102-07:00The Ledge<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKC1QJ4lTVk19m3pCCdbtV1gTraL31c2eEQeY4dfOGOEWCfxRWc7FXBKeU7ExHWQ1Coaqtj6ZAQ6RQ8H93f1kC8GNmdsPINOOi2KlzJiVswIGuzjx68VgfmOdW_vt8RPGgMFWJZM2C59A/s1600-h/27-big-bird-ledge.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKC1QJ4lTVk19m3pCCdbtV1gTraL31c2eEQeY4dfOGOEWCfxRWc7FXBKeU7ExHWQ1Coaqtj6ZAQ6RQ8H93f1kC8GNmdsPINOOi2KlzJiVswIGuzjx68VgfmOdW_vt8RPGgMFWJZM2C59A/s320/27-big-bird-ledge.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340365494149254242" /></a><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;">You are standing on the ledge, and I am standing slightly behind you, holding your hands tightly. You have been here before. Only this time, this ledge is even higher, the fall even further down and the person holding your hand then was someone else. You recognize this, and you feel your life has come a full circle, and you didn't make it anywhere near where you wanted to be.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;">You asked me to look down, at all the things you have pushed down or fell off the ledge. I take a step nearer and look down. I see shattered dreams, broken hearts, bruised confidence, and unresolved passions at the bottom. You keep looking down but I keep looking at you. I tell you it is okay, I am still here. But you don't see me. You refuse to look at the safer grounds that we are standing on. And I break down in helplessness.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;">I turn your face to look at me. See me. I am here. Then as the wind blew hard, you took my hand and start crawling back to safer grounds. We crawl slowly, and I feel safer... for you and for me. But in an instant, as if the ghosts of the valley calls to you, you let go of me and start running back towards the edge. You tell me there is nothing to live for on the safer grounds. That all you built was down in the valley. Shattered. You just had to mourn them one more time. I run after you, because I promised I will not leave you alone ever again.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;">As we stand and mourn, I get tired from standing. I feel like letting go off your hand, but am afraid that you will jump or I will fall of the ledge. I keep looking at the safer ground, and wonder when we will ever make it back. Then as I feel my grip on you loosen, you tell me that I have pushed you here to the ledge. I keep telling you I do not have the energy to hold on, but you insist that the stand won't be for long. So I stare ahead, trying to take in all the beauty of the view from the ledge. To draw strength to stand there longer. But as I stood going weary, I had to unload certain weights in my life, in order to keep standing next to you. By choice, I start throwing things that I had built and wanted down to the valley. This depresses you more. And you feel you have no choice but to push me to safer ground, and force me to leave you at the ledge.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;">I stand on safer ground, calling you. "Look at me". You do not hear me. So I choose to run to the ledge and decide to jump. You grab me and ask me why I do this. I do not know. Maybe it's because I am tired on running back and forth. Maybe it's because I too have nothing else on safer ground to live for. And maybe, just maybe, I wanted you to know how it's like to see the love of your life stop fighting the fight, giving up and leaving you behind. This was the threat and you felt no greater betrayal. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;">You finally sit at the ledge and ask me to sit beside you. You said that having me sit here calms you down. Helps you from wanting to jump off the ledge. But you feel me shiver. And you asked me why I feel so insecure and unsafe. "I am afraid of heights, Baby." It never came to your mind, that I would be afraid of anything. So you ask me "What now?" I plead you to look at the ground we sit on, stand on. And look further ahead, to the safer ground. There are new dreams to built, new passions to explore, new families to embrace. And I want to be there with you when you finally make it there. I will be with you every excruciating step of the way. I would scrape my knees, bear cuts on my fingers, withstand hunger and thirst, if you would step off the ledge and walk with me back to safer grounds. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;">So here I am, standing with you on the ledge, holding your hands. What do you want to do? What do you decide? </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 11px; white-space: pre; "><div style="width:300px;"><object width="300" height="110"><param name="movie" value="http://media.imeem.com/m/4mgjsfc3ZW/aus=false/"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://media.imeem.com/m/4mgjsfc3ZW/aus=false/" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="300" height="110" wmode="transparent"></embed></object><div style="background-color:#E6E6E6;padding:1px;"><div style="float:left;padding:4px 4px 0 0;"><a href="http://www.imeem.com/"><img src="http://www.imeem.com/embedsearch/E6E6E6/" border="0" /></a></div><form method="post" action="http://www.imeem.com/embedsearch/" style="margin:0;padding:0;"><input type="text" name="EmbedSearchBox"><input type="submit" value="Search" style="font-size:12px;"><div style="padding-top:3px;"><a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=0&ek=4mgjsfc3ZW" rel="nofollow"><img src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/152/10/" border="0" /></a><a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=1&ek=4mgjsfc3ZW" rel="nofollow"><img src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/153/10/" border="0" /></a><a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=2&ek=4mgjsfc3ZW" rel="nofollow"><img src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/154/10/" border="0" /></a><a href="http://www.imeem.com/ads/banneradclick.ashx?ep=3&ek=4mgjsfc3ZW" rel="nofollow"><img src="http://www.imeem.com/ads/bannerad/155/10/4mgjsfc3ZW/" border="0" /></a></div></form></div></div><br/><a href="http://www.imeem.com/people/YwvkVB/music/3NUt0S6n/snow-patrol-run/">Run - Snow Patrol</a></span><br /></span></div>Charmvivehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03628786182753217818noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7018150709296152449.post-86189407592336847822009-05-11T01:49:00.000-07:002009-05-14T01:36:30.605-07:00Scuba-do-bee-D'oh!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiruPhGDw27xjncHhroxhz79GuFU5qV5pOLdSJzH61yWzPRCbWwc45YXuhBGwHh98f3D_LTKtaDMxHMB4EqT6yhL5v_jUt-5moU1Kn4vha-s2YhyphenhyphenGmk7rQ4-bhkA9iLHmvv1FiKHGgTOzs/s1600-h/3216_85179092399_597432399_2226820_2313069_s.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 97px; height: 130px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiruPhGDw27xjncHhroxhz79GuFU5qV5pOLdSJzH61yWzPRCbWwc45YXuhBGwHh98f3D_LTKtaDMxHMB4EqT6yhL5v_jUt-5moU1Kn4vha-s2YhyphenhyphenGmk7rQ4-bhkA9iLHmvv1FiKHGgTOzs/s400/3216_85179092399_597432399_2226820_2313069_s.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335594957509107442" /></a><span><span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I love the getaway...beaches has always been my thing. Tioman was a lovely place. And of course, I love the person that was sharing my first experience in diving. But I hated to learn how to dive! I will try not to bore you with too much details, but I might have to narrate it dive-by-dive (if I can recall clearly, 'cause my brains could have been fried by the amount of nitrogen that went in).<br /></span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span><div><span><span><span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Dive 1</span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />Find a buddy. Effortless.Get into the wet suit. Easy.<br />Learn about the equipments. No problem.<br />Carry equipment from deck to shore. Nearly fell.<br />Going into the deep ocean water for the first time. Panic.Must breathe through mouth instead of nose. Almost impossible.<br />Clear mask underwater (letting stinging sea water into the mask and blowing it all out). Mind blowing.Bobbing up and down in shallow waters (about 3m) for a long time. Motion sickness. Need to throw up, but might choke and die underwater. Decided to call it a day.</span></span></span></span></div><div><span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Dive 2</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />After spending the whole night freaking out to Red, I thought I managed to convince myself to be better at this. It took me no more than 5min in the water...I started panicking. All I wanted to do was come out of the water. Surface. Surface. Let me go dammit! The dive instructor held me down, signaled for me to breathe. Cleared my mask. After gaining back some level of sanity, we joined the rest of the group and started repeating all the skills we have learnt. But we had 2 new skills to learn in this dive. I managed to survive without further incidents and with my confidence in tact.<br /></span></span></span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Dive 3</span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">After lunch we suited up and went back in the </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">water. Additional skills to learn:</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">- Removal of weight belt underwater (this required us to take out the weight belt, hold it in one hand, do a body roll to put the belt on again). Not that difficult, just tricky as I got disorientated when I was TRYING to roll in water.</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">- In an out-of-air situation. This one nearly damn killed me. I so wanted to die in this session. Literally. Took me a long time before I was calm enough to </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">purposely </span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">remove my air supply underwater, take Red's alternate regulator (they call it the octopus) only to realize it could not work! I had no air! I threw out the octopus, panicking, grabbed my own regulator, gulped what seemed like tons of sea water, choking for air, and then tried hard to breathe once I got air in my lungs. After the instructor checked the equipment, he seemed to think it's safe now for me to repeat that unnatural act of choking underwater. This time it worked better, but nonetheless, I still gulped plenty of sea water as struggled to get the octopus into my mouth. (I wonder if any small plankton or fish went into my body). As if that was not bad enough, the next was to share my regulator with Red. If this is not an act of "I will die for you", then I don't know what is. At every interval where the regulator was with Red and I was gasping for air, I swallowed sea water, choked more, panicked even more. Lucky for me, it's his face that I am looking at. Although I really felt like crying, I eventually calmed down because I knew this man would not let anything happen to me. </span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">- We apparently learnt how to fin like a dolphin. I think I looked more like a half dead salmon.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Ended with a cramp on my right foot only to realize later that I sprained my ankles. It begin to swell and I had to call it a day. The girls went back in for another dive, Red stayed with me (ON DRY LAND).</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Dive 4 - 7</span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Woke up and found my bikini missing. Spoilt my mood. Borrowed swimsuit from Bec. Limping around with swollen ankle. Suited up, got onto speedboat, posed for a group shot and mentally prepared for FOUR boat dives in a day.</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPfRmSNBWSEnlDFC39FSJGshd6YR-9HQcRQSHxz-9bpzf-JwsD_v-LSd36SPDi1Mir9d5Teb-xgC2Y9gWGW5hZJ_0DZ9zCMhF4m4jCSdUsP-CB7fmZkhRfXF4slRPyirJjWKxUWqdgZLQ/s400/s661394612_1710603_2232013.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 130px; height: 86px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335578823887428098" /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">It was unnerving to imagine holding on to mask and regulator, sitting at the edge of the boat and flipping backwards into the sea. But once you get a hang of it, this is actually the best part!Can't explain the sense of calm as you crash into the water, breathe with ease, look up at the clear water from beneath and slowly floating to surface.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The four dives were all quite similar but yet held very different experiences for me. The deepest we went to was 23metres. This was Dive 6 and because my ankles were busted, I was being towed around by the instructor. These boat dives were indeed more relaxing and fun compared to the earlier learning shore dives. However, I still found myself from time to time panicking and wanting to surface. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Things I experienced/saw in these 4 boat dives:</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">1. REALLY cold waters when we reached below 20metres. </span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">2. You could not only feel the current underwater, you can actually SEE it.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">3. Swam through narrow tunnels of corals. I think they are corals. It can't be real caves can it?? LOL</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">4. Was left alone in the deep blue sea for a few terrifying minutes while instructor tried to locate the rest of the group.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">5. Saw amazing sea life - turtles, clown fish, shark, school of barracudas, really tiny red fish, stingray, FISH, FISH, FISH an FISH. They were all beautiful. Thank God we didn't come ascross jelly fish. I would have freaked.</span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">FINAL EXAM</span></span></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">To add to the difficulty, after ALL that we endured, we had to sit for a written test. Thankfully, we all managed to pass (with the help of an open book and unethically asking each other). Celebrations were in order and we drank to our 'success'. I still cannot believe till today, that miraculously, I am now a certified scuba diver! :D</span></span></span></div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPuzeyby0pQa0jFOKPlDOcqYbX8ZS1E9k2PI-R4_1SF0tr7PxCIcbIlo2aWDqR0fUO_lAQ93YVnvvFqSKOE9zmHN0WsyFyqCQZzJaOt-ObOwEqv1kqvJ7IY-EOeY2SqmziiEvKwXYPwi8/s200/3216_85179192399_597432399_2226838_1959411_n.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335594431211778994" /></div>Charmvivehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03628786182753217818noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7018150709296152449.post-27932656500285181202009-04-20T23:24:00.000-07:002012-05-01T08:23:03.318-07:0010 Things I Love about You<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">Needed something to write about to revive my blog. So will write about what's on my mind now.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">10 Things I Love about You</span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<ol>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"> I love the way you smile...especially at me.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"> I love your laugh, it's contagious.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"> I love the way you hold me, I feel safe.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"> I love your kisses. They are perfect.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"> I love our conversations. Whether it makes us laugh or cry or think, we never run out of things to say.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"> I love your patience. Especially when I am short of it.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"> I love the way you look at me longingly, makes me feel confident.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"> I love your face, and the kindness in your eyes.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"> I love our meals together. A sign of sharing and caring.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></li>
<li><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"> I love the music in you. My passion.</span></span></span></li>
</ol>
</div>Charmvivehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03628786182753217818noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7018150709296152449.post-23920017917694693722008-01-17T19:18:00.000-08:002009-03-18T22:27:49.917-07:00A Fresh Start<div><br /><p align="justify"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp9155MIVUHmotd8b6rQZlPn4blzJsWK710HiwbNorYiqKwATrAeYr4PQqlgkxiW5cdPVPZEG1gzQf-PoRpPS5JIA5SDFIJsfI_m8ldndAG-c7TjpohXExPLVUeavQbyeuY6MiWt1ltQw/s1600-h/PrinceLogo.jpg"><span style="font-size:85%;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156651337310553794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp9155MIVUHmotd8b6rQZlPn4blzJsWK710HiwbNorYiqKwATrAeYr4PQqlgkxiW5cdPVPZEG1gzQf-PoRpPS5JIA5SDFIJsfI_m8ldndAG-c7TjpohXExPLVUeavQbyeuY6MiWt1ltQw/s200/PrinceLogo.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-size:85%;"> Its time. 5 and 1/2 years of laughter, pain, joy, frusration, memories. So much memories. I grew up here, and the hotel 'grew up' when I was here. When I first joined Prince Hotel, they have just opened their doors for business and I have just started dating my now husband. 5 and 1/2 years later, Prince Hotel & Residence is no longer an unknown property, we made a huge profit last year and I am now a mother of two little monsters. Time went by in a blink of an eye.</span></p><p align="justify"><span style="font-size:85%;">Some are asking why I have to leave, want to leave. I guess it's time for me to move on. I am forever grateful for all the oppurtunities that Prince had offered. I am truly blessed and should be so lucky to have had such a great career run whilst I was here. But I need more for myself, for my family. At this moment in time, money is not the deciding factor. My career development is. And where I am going seems to offer a better prospect. I still don't know whether I am making a mistake. Some asked me to listen to my inner voice, my intuition. Some asked to to listen to God. I think my 'hearing' is imparred at the moment, because I don't hear anything else besides the voice of logic. But logic...can be argued.</span></p><p align="justify"><span style="font-size:85%;">However, I have made my choice and that is to move on and not look back. I will miss this place and change, although inevitable, is always scary and can be difficult. But I love a challange, and maybe, I will tell you what the challenge has thought me in another 6 months. For now, I will carry with each and every moment and learning I gained from this magnificent place. </span></p><p align="justify"><span style="font-size:85%;">For those of you who are in the same crossroads as I am in, remember:</span></p><ol><li><span style="font-size:85%;">You should be so lucky that people want to offer you a job. Means whatever you have achieved is appreciated. Good job!</span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:85%;">When choosing jobs, look forward 3 - 5 years. Make a logical conclusion which path will bring you to your goals. If both will lead you there at the same time, choose which is more beneficial to take.</span></li><br /><li><span style="font-size:85%;">Depending on your characteristics, choose to move or stay. If you are a stable person, risk adversed and not comfortable with the unknown, then it would be more beneficial to stick to what is good. But if you are like me, a bouncing, impatiend, easily bored person, then...you might want to change your environment once in a while to make things exciting.</span></li></ol><p align="justify">So based on the above 3 things, I chose to try out new things, meet new people and collect new memories. Hopefully, I make new friends on the way :), because I will miss my old ones.</p><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156657900020582114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvHdfQeNddbd8K3f4lsvgKgPiBKqtcWT9nAGXGFwqqpm45_pPTKzDRlnUtW2tepAaH_bYXr0-Gx9bQ6M_h_tzcuw8sTPHS_BuW94LDOM5-J4-nzClFjXgGf7CTYYVFLAXIMw_KSrsdCKY/s320/ADD+%2707.JPG" border="0" /><div><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div></div>Charmvivehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03628786182753217818noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7018150709296152449.post-24273908215142701582007-07-10T19:07:00.001-07:002007-07-10T20:37:31.820-07:00Unlikely Angels<div align="justify"><a href="http://www.ansaldo-signal.com.au/main/kl_monorail.jpg"><span style="font-size:85%;"><img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.ansaldo-signal.com.au/main/kl_monorail.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><span style="font-size:85%;color:#993399;">After years of not taking public transport, last night I decided to try out the efficiency of our KL transport services. I was fed up of waiting for hubby to come get me from the office, KL was jammed up as usual, and I decided to save time and money by taking the monorail instead of the taxi. </span><span style="font-size:85%;color:#993399;">I have heard many horror stories about our public transport system and about the people that take them. Some may think that it is weird that I should try to experiment with this now that I am 8 months pregnant, but those of you who know me knows that I am a 'spontaneous' person. Haha.</span></div><p align="justify"><span style="font-size:85%;color:#993399;">So I left the office on foot and walked uphill to the Raja Chulan station which took me about 15 minutes. But to much relieve, I managed to climb up the stairs to the payment counter and another flight of stairs to Platform B. First thing I think of is...'How does one on wheelchair get up here?'...there are no escalators. (I think a lot about the disabled nowadays because I happen to be working with one). Another "Mana Boleh" for Malaysia...woo hoo!</span></p><p align="justify"><span style="font-size:85%;color:#993399;">Anyhow, the moment I stepped on the platform, I realized I was going to be sardined all the way to my stop. There were SO many people and from what I observed the monorail to be all this time, the train is SMALL. I panicked, knowing this means trouble as I have been rather klutzy since getting pregnant. We stood waiting for the train to come and I was paying particular attention to my now very painful, swollen feet that needs rest. </span></p><p align="justify"><span style="font-size:85%;color:#993399;">I started 'assessing' the people around me. Since we are all in the mood of celebrating our 50th Merdeka and the spirit of muhibbah, I wanted to confirm the theory of why Malaysia was voted the 3rd rudest country in the world. So my first 'targets' were these two jokers standing right in front of me. They were talking loudly and fidgeting (more like pacing) non stop although the whole platform was packed. I was afraid they will step on my foot. One of them was 'wearing' a Malaysian flag and I remember thinking to myself that it's way too early to celebrate Merdeka. Then I remembered that its the Asia Cup and Malaysia was playing tonight...so maybe they are off to see the game, who knows? Anyway, he continues pacing and playing with his flag...putting it on his head, then taking it out to wear around his waist and then decided to be Superman and used it as his cape. Frankly, in my head, I (too) quickly summarized 'hooligan'. </span></p><p align="justify"><span style="font-size:85%;color:#993399;">Now the first monorail comes around the corner and everyone starts pushing. When the train stops, I know no one can board because the train was way too packed. I saw a mat salleh push his way OUT of the train and started cursing when he finally managed to get out. I thought, "Great, how am I ever going to get home now?" We waited some more and I passed more judgements on the two jokers in front of me. The second train comes and the pushing became more intense. The train stops and people realized that there are gaps in the train which they can fill! The pushing becomes violent and I get squashed. I couldn't push anyone and obviously nobody gives a s**t about me being pregnant. Then I heard a voice behind me shouting. It was the flag guy. He started shouting at everyone to let me pass, "Oi kesian lar, ada ibu mengandung!" So because of him, I managed to board the monorail. He was my first <em>angel</em> of the evening. I felt embarrassed that I had passed unfounded judgements on him earlier, but quickly forgot my bad behaviour at the next stop.</span></p><p align="justify"><span style="font-size:85%;color:#993399;">I was trying to balance and stand in the packed carriage when I made the conclusions that my friends (and the TV campaign/ad) were right....NOBODY will let a pregnant woman/ elderly person sit. There was a frail looking makcik standing next to me, and I decided 'Heck! if she can toughen it up, I will not complain'. However at the next stop, someone stepped on my swollen, painful foot because she wanted to get out. More people tried cramping into the train and at this point I was getting really pissed off. To add to my "pissyness" a young couple boards the train, holding each other tight, as if the girl will fall down. They cramped close to me and I wanted to smack them. Again, I started making judgements about them, trying to stereotype them with my small, stupid mind. Before I can comprehend what was happening, this young boy tapped on the shoulder of a seated moron, and asked him politely to give up his seat for me. The moron (a strong looking Chinese man wearing a shirt of a Japanese car manufacturer) looking utterly embarrassed, got up and mumbled something. The young boy replied him with a smile and said "Thank you bro. Dia pregnant lar. Thank you ah." I sat down and my second <em>angel</em> looked at me and smiled. I smiled back (still embarrassed about judging another decent human being) and he asked if I am OK. I thanked him and wanted to cry.</span></p><p align="justify"><span style="font-size:85%;color:#993399;">Since life is all about living and learning, I got 2 lessons from my experience last night:</span></p><p align="justify"><span style="font-size:85%;color:#993399;">1. Matthew 7:2-5 declares, "For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you. Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother's eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? How can you say to your brother, Let me take the speck out of your eye when all the time there is a plank in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother's eye."</span></p><p align="justify"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="color:#993399;">2. There are still decent Malaysians who will prove the world wrong about us being rude... MALAYSIA BOLEH!!!</span><br /><br /></span></p><div align="justify"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></div>Charmvivehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03628786182753217818noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7018150709296152449.post-42594562664900409722007-06-27T23:40:00.000-07:002008-12-11T00:31:56.658-08:00Our Amazing KL Road SystemsThey say that pictures tell a thousand words. Well, here's one.<br /><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081002336565338994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp03NX1Op9shT8mVwBmgz_NtGS6ofoXV1rOPaEV6MmvyXWzHqdNp3tAgjkZvt5frrZhaS-AG0DtRu4PRsic2uP-xg2X4s6_ND3c5eKSXULAJfu2RALsJK65bgvZWjHA4VMB9koXaxCLZk/s400/DSC00270.JPG" border="0" /><br /><div></div><div></div><div>It was another day for me, caught in the jam on the way back home. I was just thinking how amazingly 'smart' our people are when it comes to planning (and carrying out) road works because I was caught in the new Imbi jam. For those of you who know (or don't), they have changed the road system along Jalan Imbi and never even bothered to do up the roads properly. It all looks a little crazy at the moment. So I was sitting in my car, half falling asleep and half singing to whatever song there is on the radio, when I saw what you are seeing in the picture above. I just found it extremely hilarious. Although by accident, I pressume, this ulitmately reflects the efficiency of our road systems and planning...random selection of road works as they please.</div></div>Charmvivehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03628786182753217818noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7018150709296152449.post-90068696557503612292007-03-22T01:46:00.000-07:002008-12-11T00:31:56.861-08:00Christmas 2002 - What happened?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8WITEc54nzW0UIlxJ672035hY_yh3kUQGpM4zDG4w6EXyk_0GPfPMykxhmBDoeO1t_9h4p75GOZyiZX7E5ZW_LW-YLIGV1PN2Dy83r1vaTe7Y5aambl81lBprYS-weFuCxyJ1F7rr458/s1600-h/DSCN0509.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5044667909441022306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8WITEc54nzW0UIlxJ672035hY_yh3kUQGpM4zDG4w6EXyk_0GPfPMykxhmBDoeO1t_9h4p75GOZyiZX7E5ZW_LW-YLIGV1PN2Dy83r1vaTe7Y5aambl81lBprYS-weFuCxyJ1F7rr458/s200/DSCN0509.JPG" border="0" /></a> I and many others clearly remembered the Christmas cards we received from Ah Loke that year. It says that we were to meet again ten years from then, under the tree. We moved on with our lives and all of us went our separate ways. Through the years, not much thought was given to the request made by him. For those of us who still saw each other once in a while, there was mention of it in passing. But again, nobody really anticipated Christmas 2002 as it seems too far off.<br /><br />Many years passed and it was finally here....year 2002. It was a new millennium, everything changed and suddenly, we were all excited about Christmas that year. For me, it played in my head so many times how it would go down...Ah Loke and I would drive to Wesley, go for service, come out and meet up with 'the gang' under the tree, holding hands and everyone will gasp in shock to find out that we are now dating. That he will also bring along a golden retriever puppy which carried a diamond ring around his neck and Ah Loke will propose to me in front of our extremely shocked friends.<br /><br />But of course, nothing in my life ever played out the way I imagined it to be. Basically all that I envisioned did come true, however not in that order...<br /><br />We didn't meet up under the tree that year, most all of 'the gang' did not turn up. However, we do meet up a couple of times a year for Chinese New Year, birthdays, weddings, engagement, funerals, etc. Ah Loke and I have become the trustee organizers.<br /><br />'The gang' found out about us dating much earlier before December that year and instead of shock, many laughed at him. You see, karma is what it's called. You laugh at your friend and call him incenstrous for marrying one of 'the sisters', you think people will forget? So forget they didn't and laughed at him for dating that sister's best friend.<br /><br />I got the diamond ring after that year and have been wearing it ever since. We used it both in our engagement and wedding ceremonies. It is not big diamond, but one that is most beautiful to me...yes, cliche, I know. But it was the first diamond ring I ever got in my life. However, there was no proposal. ???<br /><br />The golden retrievers came later. First Sunshine, then Snow. And of course, we had to get our baby beagle, Charlie Brown.<br /><br />But the whole 'gang' was there for our wedding, including those who we do not meet regularly anymore. I think that makes up for Christmas 2002. And I'll be seeing them again at Lauren's 1st Birthday Party!!!!!!!! My baby is one years old. :)Charmvivehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03628786182753217818noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7018150709296152449.post-51040179829517058882007-03-21T20:11:00.000-07:002008-12-11T00:31:57.362-08:00On the Way to the Isle<div>When Trinar posted the photos on Friendster, it brought back many wonderful memories of events leading up to my wedding. I could not have asked for more, with friends coming back to KL for the wedding. Trinar flew back from Sydney, Suannie and Cynthia back from London and of course, Jeremy who came in for the one night from Shanghai. But my gals really made it totally unforgetable.<br /><div><br /><div><br /><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5044584123219011922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijn-0ggeX8WCw4fjOI0pcPNH3dMGK4dn5Cod15h8iEQw6aRSwPHQiFLsAAlEJhwD6RTGEQIBTO0KcqRKkQDaGRINdWkumUCcoTiAuhR6hJDxoVyx-3vuooHV2Q9Js5kEKJIoeLQ1pRvyg/s200/37839845158388s.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div><br />At first was the dinner at Suet's place. It reminded us yet again how time flies. When we met, we were still 8-9 year old girls in pony tails. When we sat down and looked at ourselves again, it shows that true friendship endures through all, even time, problems, dislikes and of course, distance.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div><br />The following was tying up chopsticks and writing thank you notes at Trinar's. If i have not friends likeTrinar and Suannie, I would have been in deep s**t. Eh, not bad on the ribbon tying department now, is it? Ivan would have not been able to make it look more than a shoe lace tied by an 8 year old.</div><br /><div><br /></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLrDGIM8vIbichyphenhyphenw9UVb0Ttp1_lGQDI2TP7tNMItovAsNluqKpE3IWh9jgMN7V_FvG79IurAJokMMVPwOye6nUOjf07cVZCFfVF7w0DUW2GhX-ApSDHlJCr-1tN3kYTfPzXM8geJl_0xY/s1600-h/3783981248489s.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5044583500448753986" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLrDGIM8vIbichyphenhyphenw9UVb0Ttp1_lGQDI2TP7tNMItovAsNluqKpE3IWh9jgMN7V_FvG79IurAJokMMVPwOye6nUOjf07cVZCFfVF7w0DUW2GhX-ApSDHlJCr-1tN3kYTfPzXM8geJl_0xY/s200/3783981248489s.jpg" border="0" /></a>Of course, the hen night. Dinner at Taishojin was marvelous (never thought that I would enjoy Japanese food that much). The party at Zouk was crazy! Champagne is always good for the soul. The vomitting is not. So much for all the tequila shots you crazy b*itches! Thanks for holding my head and hair back and tucking me into bed that night. You gals are the best!</div><br /><div><br />Finally, the grooming sessions. Coleen, thanks for making me beautiful, and for the singing. Who does not love your voice?</div></div></div></div>Charmvivehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03628786182753217818noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7018150709296152449.post-54017508093217107772007-03-21T19:02:00.000-07:002008-12-11T00:31:57.498-08:00All The Clichés<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimCoWl-i8U15JMKHhsJEImHaiA36F_Ec4BEkxroqXsjog2nzeysBbSspRELWHXs6Kp3n1gUQ_rIlW5mwMEmYmooaTyPZ8hTfbv-bzNrdI25rdV5Wh_2brync8U4sTykn30UY-nGOuWLTg/s1600-h/Worth.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5044576722990360866" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimCoWl-i8U15JMKHhsJEImHaiA36F_Ec4BEkxroqXsjog2nzeysBbSspRELWHXs6Kp3n1gUQ_rIlW5mwMEmYmooaTyPZ8hTfbv-bzNrdI25rdV5Wh_2brync8U4sTykn30UY-nGOuWLTg/s320/Worth.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><span style="color:#6666cc;"><strong>All The Clichés</strong><br /><br />The tension between us rise<br />All the damn mysteries in life<br />Is it really better left unknown<br />Why do we have to leave it alone<br /><br />You say let sleeping dogs lie<br />I say let them just die<br />But the lips say is alright<br />My entire being says give it a try<br /><br /><br /></span><span style="color:#6666cc;"><em>The heart belongs to you<br />The soul’s been given, you fool<br />All the stupid clichés in a song<br />All I’m feeling is too wrong<br /><br />To the one who ain’t you<br />They say I have to be true<br />I have waited hell too long<br />To still be in this lame form<br /></em><br /><br />No, it’s not wise<br />But why can’t I let it fly<br />Out of my life and out of my mind<br />Guess it’s about time<br /><br />You look, I smile<br />Laughed hardest, by a mile<br />Walk on my friend<br />Hope’s crushed into sand<br /><br /><br />Pull your punches<br />Pull out all the stops<br />Pull out my heart<br />And make it stop…(beating for you) </div></span>Charmvivehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03628786182753217818noreply@blogger.com0