Does This Dress Make Me Look Pregnant?

I bought this dress in a thrift shop for RM15 (around $3.50). A dress like this in retail could easily cost me around three to four times that price.

The dress, had twice, brought me memories that I will never forget. Twice while wearing this dress, people had mistakenly thought I was pregnant. I’m not offended though, quite far from it actually. I found their opinion hilarious.

The first time I heard of it was when I went to the doctors for cough + flu + fever combo in 2019. Whenever I fell ill, my skin felt like it’s on fire. Everything hurts, even a slight breeze. Every time my skin brushed against any articles of clothes I’m wearing, it felt like I’m being sliced with a sharp knife. So a broad dress came across as heavenly at times like this. It’s comfortable and didn’t brush against me as much.

The doctor took my temperature, and asked the usual questions; symptoms, drug allergies. He took off his stethoscope and said, ‘This dress you’re wearing, you’re not pregnant are you?’

I’m not being ignorant; I can hear what the doctor wasn’t saying. He just wanted to make sure I’m not with child so that he can give me the proper medicine to treat me. But he did mention the dress being the reason he asked. Both of us laughed loudly in his office when I told him no.

The second time I heard of it was on Saturday in 2020 when I went to the string of food market near the town library. It was exceptionally hot, and I felt especially plump that day, so I pulled this dress from my closet to wear. There was this lady, whose stall was selling pastries: bread, buns, full-sized egg tarts, mini egg tarts, pineapple tarts, you name it. I was craving for pineapple tarts so I went there to buy a carton. The lady switched the carton I handed her to what she said to be a “better looking tarts” because the one I picked had cracks in them.

“We women should give good food to our babies if we’re pregnant” she said, implying that I’m pregnant. “The poor baby in your tummy wants to eat pineapple tarts. Let’s give the baby the good-looking tarts, okay”.

I laughed so hard when I heard her say it. I did not correct her, as I did not want to embarrass her and make things awkward. I went along with her assumption, and was given a discount for the pineapple tarts and she even thrown an egg tart for free.

I collapsed in the car in a fit of laughter when I tell my father about it. I know this has everything to do with the dress. I’m on the chubby side, but people never outwardly ask or assume I’m pregnant. But it has happened only twice, and both times were because I wore this dress.                

Never wrong a writer. They get their revenge in print.

I don't like to be asked what's on my mind and when I do, I am told that I was being over-emotional.

I don't like that when I told people how much I hated you for what you did to me, I am told to move on.

I don't like it whenever I tried to let go of you by talking about you or writing about you, my throat gets tight and I feel like crying.

I don't like it that I am accused of not moving on, when I fucking do want to move on.

I hate you so much for making me change my mind about you.

I hate you so much for convincing me that your words are true.

I wonder if you have any sort of remorse

I hate you so fucking much.

I am on the way of punishing you.

I will give birth to a character intended as a representation of you.

And I will give you a slow and painful death.

Reincarnate you again in a different name, only to have you murdered in some sort of way.

Just like Sisyphus who was punished by being forced to roll an enormous boulder uphill, only for it to roll down when it's near the top.

That is how I will punish you.

A non-glamorous immortalisation of you.

Every time people read about death in my books.

There's no other person they would think of, except you.

For every book, with a death of your character, I will send you a signed copy.

And perhaps a dictionary.

(Because you can't read English)

Do you guys think Bonnie noticed Woody was missing?

I did not watch Toy Story 4 in the cinema, due to personal reasons. I waited until they played it on Fox Movies for free.

I read some movie reviews; and a lot of them were disapproving of the way Bonnie ignored Woody, and all agreed that Woody should have stayed with Andy.

After watching the movie myself, I agreed!

I am quite offended by this fictional six-year-old girl.

If Woody is in college with Andy, he wouldn't be mutilated by another toy in some random antique store for his voice-box.

But then again... If Woody is in college with Andy, he wouldn't have been reunited with his long time love, Bo Peep...

The end of the movie fast-forwarded to two years later (kindergarten is for how many years in America?), Forky is still in Bonnie's bedroom. Which brings the question, does Bonnie noticed Woody was missing?

Twelve random facts about me

Why twelve? I don't know. Probably because there's twelve months in a year? Here we go.

1.

I cannot stand the taste of pineapple.

Not under any circumstances, not even when I dipped them in salt.

2.

My house is a mess.

No matter how many times I tidied up, it's still looks messy.

3.

I can't handle scary movies.

Although the only ones I've ever watched all the way through were Chucky, IT and IT2. They're not bad. But then it's probably because I watched them during daylight.

There's a funny story behind how I came to watch Chucky. Maybe I'll write that in another post.

4.

I used to pull out grasshopper's legs when I was little.

In elementary school, my friends and I would catch grasshoppers, and then we pulled out its legs so it can't jump and escape. We wanted to make them our pets. The grasshopper(s) didn't last a day before it died.

5.

I daydreamed - a lot!

You can't even imagine what it's like. Apparently it's a mental condition called Maladaptive Daydreaming. Although mine's probably called Immersive Daydreaming. Either way, it's a mental condition, like I said.

6.

I don't curse.

Well, at least, I don't curse in front of people I'm not close with.

And I don't curse in my native language. Those were vulgar as vulgar can be. So I only curse in English.

7.

I have one constant friend throughout the years.

His name is Dante, and he's an imaginary pen-pal I wrote to when I write my diary. Hmm... I haven't write to him in a while. There's so much to catch him up on.

8.

I got my driver's license in 2019.

It's a very long story involving procrastination, money problems; and lying and thieving driver's instructors, who happens to be a friend of mine, by the way! I wanted to support his business and that was how he repaid me?!

9.

I keep things that I don't need, or have no need for it again.

This is probably why my house is messy? Hmm... Better fix that.

10.

I am hopeless in Mathematics.

I swear I scores As in Maths from kindergarten age to 9 years old. This was a case of teacher who don't know how to teach when I was ten. And in this case, he only teach a certain group of students because it was convenient in terms of body posture. When we asked him to show us how to do the work, he wasn't as detailed.

11.

I take a long time to eat.

There's this one time at the shopping mall food court, my mother got tired of waiting for me to finish eating, she went to another shop to kill some time.

12.

I write fanfictions.

It's M/M trope(?). It's embarrassing if people in my circle knows about it. But this is okay. I'm sort of in incognito.

For that one reader who visits my blog when they can’t sleep

 Hello. Welcome.

 

Your comment about me not updating my blog in a long time has been heard.

 

Well, if I haven’t been updating my blog before, it was because I was unbelievably lazy. But this year, I have the fortune of having a full time job.

 

But I will try and regularly update my blog from now on; since I found out I have a loyal fan. You won't believe how happy this makes me.

 

You also mentioned not being able to focus on reading my blog because I wrote long articles.

 

I will try to keep them short.

 

Stay tuned.

On My Bookshelf: The Hundred-Foot Journey, by Richard C. Morais

[ WARNING: SPOILER ALERT ]

My dear readers, if you are an avid reader like me, and like to read in your free time (especially if that free time also includes meal times), then I don’t think this book is for you.

I would suggest you to read until the end before you decide to negatively react to this post over just one sentence.

This book tells the story of the humble beginnings of the Haji family; starting from the Haji’s grandparents. The grandfather is a humble but rather successful businessman. But it’s the grandmother who is the entrepreneur of the family, who thinks outside the box and was able to transform a home based small business of lunchboxes to a full blown restaurant business that also became a source of income to many people around who worked for them. You have got to admire that. It gave you a sort of inspiration to be successful as well.

(Clapped hands) Now… I am going to tell you about why this book is not suitable to read at meal times. I’m not sure how accurate the cultural reference is of the Indian community, but the book mentioned the word “toilet” several times, “raw sewage”, “sweaty armpits the size of dinner plate”, sloppy description of eating style and all others, all before the fourth chapter. Even if you’re not eating at the time you’re reading the book, but if you happen to have a weak stomach, you will feel queasy nonetheless.

Unfortunately (or is it fortunately?) I will not include quotes of the said mention, for fear my dear readers might be having a meal when reading this.

If you are a person easily to feel squeamish, I suggest you start the read of this book by sucking on something to take the edge off; maybe some tangy candy, or minty ones; really, whatever helps. But it doesn’t last the whole book, thank goodness. Only the first few chapters.

The book however, I guess what shocked me a little was when fifteen year old Hassan who just arrived in London following his mother’s death, met with his London-born cousin of the same age for the first time and was astounded by her choice of fashion that he cannot keep his eye away from her. I know, everyone is allowed to be a little astonished by something they very rarely see in their life. But what I meant by I was shocked was when the vehicle they ride on, that was driven by his late mother’s brother, rounded a roundabout so fast that the said cousin’s knee were pressed against his thigh and he can feel his pants pitching a tent just from that!

And as we leaned around the corner, I felt my cousin’s hot knee push back against my thigh, and instantly a cricket bat was poking up through my pants.

I really don’t understand what brought that on. Even though the book was written from a first person point of view, I don’t know what went through his mind when his body reacts like that. How could you get aroused from a person’s choice of fashion and from a simple physical touch like that?

Hassan later wondered if his troubled relationships with women had everything to do with losing his mother in a murder. As soon as it felt as though the relationship is about to get serious, he will do something to screw it up. With that said, this book contained some bam-bam in the ham storyline. Although it not really that focused: just one sentence per woman. But with enough of an overactive imagination, a person can jerkin with the gerkin anyway (Not that I tried).

Madam Gertrude Mallory is a two Michelin star restaurant chef and owner, called Le Saule Pleureur, that also double as an inn. She is so successful that people travel from Paris just to eat at her restaurant. Madam Mallory is quite a character! She is the sort of employer that I would get a lifetime of trauma from. She lost her tempers easily and does not care who around them listened. When the Haji family decided to open a restaurant right across the street from her and make Saint-Antonin-Noble-Val as their home, she went ballistic. She did everything to sabotage their business; such as blackmailing people of the town market she patrons not to sell goods to the Haji family.

Plus I have a sneaking suspicion that her loyal manager Monsieur Henri Leblanc is a little bit smitten with her, and she him. Just a lit~tle bit smitten. Lit~tle.

But don’t let first impressions fool you. Madam Mallory showed herself as a surprisingly emphatic person, albeit dismissively emphatic. One bite of the food Hassan cooked, she immediately sensed talent. Which brings me to the part where Madam Mallory sabotage attempts, and it went back and forth between the two restaurant owners, and finally stopped when their fight caused an accident burn to Hassan.

Madam Mallory determined to make things good again, even staged a hunger strike in front of the Maison Mumbai. She refused to move from where she was sitting and eat until Abbas Haji, Hassan’s father, agree to let his son work at her restaurant where she knew he can be great. Abbas agreed eventually.

And so Hassan’s journey into the French culinary began. Madam Mallory’s attention to Hassan had planted a bitter seed on her existing staff, particularly Jean-Pierre.

For if there was one human condition that Madame Mallory understood, it was jealousy, the intense pain of realising there are those in the world who simple are greater than we are, surpassing us in some profound way, in all our accomplishments.

She did not mean to make her staff envious of Hassan. She was gentle to Jean-Pierre’s outburst and it made him shameful of his acts.

But he is like a visitor from another planet, and in some ways he is to be pitied, for the distance he has yet to travel, and the hardships he has yet to endure.

This quote changed the way I look at life. This quote changed the way how I look at other people, especially when they make mistakes.

Hassan did not stay at Le Saule Pleureur long, and since his leaving, he had been in and out of working in many restaurants, even helping some of them earn one more Michelin Star.

“When you leave here, […] you are likely to forget most of the things I have taught you. That can’t be helped. If you retain anything, however, I wish it to be this bit of advice my father gave me when I was a little girl, after a famous and extremely difficult writer had just left our family hotel. ‘Gertrude,’ he said, ‘never forget a snob is a person utterly lacking in good taste.’ I myself forget this excellent piece of advice, but I trust you will not be so foolish.”

“I am not very good with words, but I would like to tell you that somewhere in life I lost my way, and I believe you were sent to me, perhaps by my beloved father, so that I could be restored to the world. And I thank you for this. You have made me understand that good taste is no the birthright of snobs, but a gift from God sometimes found in the most unlikely of places and in the unlikeliest of people.”

He soon settled down with his own restaurant, that he co-owned with his sister, with the help of Madam Mallory’s regular patron, and inheritance from his father. As any business owner will tell you, not every day is filled with sunshine. Things got steadily hard for Hassan financially, and it certainly did not help with his emotion that his father, Madam Mallory and his best friend all died within less than six months.

This was the vision that visited, in that restless space between sleeping and waking, and it greatly soothed me. For this vision of the chickens heading to slaughter reminded me that there are many points in life when we cannot see what awaits us around the corner and it is precisely at such times, when our path forward is unclear, that we must bravely keep our nerve, resolutely putting one foot before the other as we march blindly into the dark.

And it was just before I fell asleep that I remembered one of Uncle Mayur’s favourite expressions, often repeated as we walked, hand in hand. through the slums of Mumbai when I was a little boy. “Hassan, it is Allah who gives and takes away,” he liked to tell me, and with a cheerful wobble of his head. “Always remember this: His will is only revealed at the right time.”

I am always reminding myself why I got into the game in the first place. […] It’s so easy to become intoxicated by all this flimflam. […] That is what he had to teach us - all of us - in the end. Never lose sight.

But when Hassan’s restaurant luckily earned a surprise third Michelin star, things were alright again and the book ended and so is this blog entry. I know. I’m shocked too.

This blog post is part of On My Bookshelf series of Around the Year in 52 Books reading challenge.

On My Bookshelf: The Out of Office Girl, by Nicola Doherty

[WARNING: SPOILER ALERT]

If you want to read about publishing, this is the book. If you want to read about writing (or rather, the process of ghost-writing an autobiography), this is the book. If you want to read about somewhere based in Italy and/or London, this is the book.

Most importantly, if you want to find a book by an author whose name contains A, T, and Y for your book reading challenge, this is the book (at least one of the books).

Alice Roberts worked at a publishing house in London, and one of the projects her department was assigned to was writing an autobiography for an American actor, Luther Carson. The actor was by no means ageing nor dying. But his short marriage and hiatus from acting brought interest to his life. When the ghost-writer who stayed with Luther in Italy came to no significant progress on the book, Alice was given an assignment by her reluctant boss to help convince Luther to help write the book.

Alice went out with a guy for two months, who then ghosted her and terminated the “relationship” after a long silent treatment. It made her question if there was even a “relationship” to begin with. So the trip to Italy was the break from London life she didn’t realise she needed. She was starting to day-dream about getting into a relationship with her actor crush, and imagining her ex-(sort-of) boyfriend getting jealous and wishing he hadn’t dump her.

The reality she was met was far from her imagination. Luther Carson, while expressing his intent to wanting to write the book, kept putting it off. He kept going out on his friend’s yacht at daytime, going out to dinner and clubs at night time. When asked about writing the book, he was going with the “party first, work later” approach. No wonder the ghost-writer had trouble writing the manuscript. Alice was hounded with deadlines by her boss, who already thought she was not a competent person for the job since the beginning. After another procrastinating on Luther Carson’s part, Alice lost her patience and gave him an ultimatum about what is at stake.

Luther came to his senses and agreed to actually start working on the book. But this time, Alice was facing another challenge: The ghost-writer, Brian, heard news from his wife that she was diagnosed with cancer. He was distraught of having to be so far from her; torn between the responsibilities that was asked to do his job, and the love for his wife. Alice made an executive decision to send him home, and send him Luther’s interview transcripts for him to work with. Her boss was not happy when she found out what Alice did, and even more upset to find that a supposed clause in the autobiography contract, that Alice was in charge of, was left out by accident; but nevertheless let Alice continued with her work with the book.

Luther Carson was a transformed man, and in a span of a few days, Alice had acquired more materials for the book than they did two weeks ago. His agent, Sam Newland, was convinced that writing the autobiography will be the worst decision Luther has ever made and the stories written will be held against him throughout his entire career.

Alice and Sam had a talk and came to an agreement regarding to Luther. Putting that aside as a resolved problem, they had a few cosy moments where Sam even felt comfortable enough to tell Alice a few work gossips about famous actors and actresses. The cosy moments progressed into flimp-flopping, and, oh-my, Nicola Doherty wrote it in such a way that made you want to hitchhike to the sky.

I love it! I love Alice and Sam together! I ship!

Much better than if she ended up with Luther Carson…

But Alice got the idea that Sam was just playing with her and that it was Marisa, their Italian friend, who he was really attracted to. Her hesitation put a strain on their friendship and any potential that it will ever progress to something more. To make matters worse, Sam found the paper containing an intimate detail of Luther’s hiatus and thought Alice was tricking him into putting it in the book. Alice returned to London without ever having the chance to explain herself.

Luck wasn’t on Alice’s side at work. While she admittedly did a quick progress on the book to the point of it being finished, she was dismissed from her job. She was accused of unprofessional conduct when a gossip site wrote about “a publishing house editor” was spotted coming out of a night club with Luther, accused of firing the ghost-writer without consulting with her boss, and for carelessly leaving out an important clause in Luther Carson’s autobiography contract.

I was engrossed in the book so much when I found out that I had about three more chapters left! What will happen to Alice and Sam?! I hope they ended up together!

Okay. I just returned from reading the last few chapters and I have great news!

While going to an art exhibition with her colleague, Poppy, Alice bumped into a founder of a newly established publishing agency, who gave her her card and asked Alice to contact her if she wants to consider working with her. 

As a thank you for coming with her for emotional support, Poppy pulled out Sam Newland’s business card from her bag that she took from Alice’s boss’s desk. Alice refused to take it, telling her that contacting Sam will be pointless, to which Poppy replied with this gem of a quote.

When a nice guy shows an interest in you, you run a mile. It’s as if you think you don’t deserve it. Whereas a creep like Simon has your full attention.

It does make you think all of our the-one-that-got-aways...

A few days later, Alice was contacted by the managing director of her old workplace, asking her to come back to working with them again with a promotion. No, begging her would be a more suitable word. It turned out that Sam found out that Alice was fired from her job and demanded that they reinstated Alice into the company. So the managing director begged her to come back, and if she decided not to, they promised they will put out a great word out for her if she wanted to work for any other publishing company.

Alice found out from Poppy that Luther and Sam were in London, for a premier, and she rushed to the hotel they were staying in. She felt like it was the only chance to meet face to face with Sam and talk properly. Sam found her at the reception and they both went up to his room. They had a proper talk, and what a satisfying feeling it was to read that they genuinely had feelings for each other and the kiss at the end to prove it! I was squealing with joy in my seat the whole time! In fact I am still giddy with happiness.

Want more good news? The book doesn’t just end with thirty-seven chapters. It had epilogues too!

This blog post of part of On My Bookshelf series of Around the Year in 52 Books reading challenge.

On My Bookshelf: Fifty Shames of Earl Grey, by Fanny Merkin (aka Andrew Shaffer)

[ WARNING: SPOILER ALERT ]

No. This is not the infamous fan fiction trilogy. If you thought it is, read the title again.

I found this book while scrolling through Pinterest for eye candy. It was in a Tumblr screenshot, and the anons replies about the book piqued my curiosity.

I have not read Fifty Shades trilogy or Twilight saga either, but I knew enough to recognise which story line belonged to which franchise. Most of my knowledge of Fifty Shades came from the first volume, where I would open the book at random pages and read what’s on it. My Twilight familiarity came from the TV tuned to said movies on HBO as a background noise while I work on something else; occasionally glancing at the screen for a break or when my sister pointed out interesting facts that went way back to the first book.

In essence, this book is a crossover of 95% Fifty Shades series and 5% Twilight.

I open my eyes and stare down at Mr Grey and HOLY MOTHER EFFING SPARKLY VAMPIRES IS HE HOT.

A note on one of the page of the book said that the book “imitates an author’s style and work for comic effect. Its intent is to ridicule”, which is evident in this one-liner that made me chuckle.

With his tousled brown hair and brilliant gray eyes, he’s the kind of guy you want to write fanfic about.

In fact, the first few pages of the book had so much resemblance to Fifty Shades of Grey that I almost did not see any difference. Although the pseudonymous author did moved and added a few words, I had a moment of insight of what my college professors must have felt like when we turned up written assignments that each one read almost alike. This book started with the protagonist Anna Steal who was filling up for roommate Kathleen Kraven for an interview with Earl Grey.

“[…] I’m Edward Cullen. I mean, ‘Earl Grey.’ Have a seat”

Here’s a little anecdote: Whenever I fell in love with a fictional character, I would pretend that they were even crazier in love with me, and that there is nothing in this world that they cannot do to prove it. My beloved fictional character would also be this powerful person and that everyone in the world can’t wait to want to associate themselves with them. This book reminded me a lot of the fan fictions I used to write on paper and in my head, and because of that I got embarrassed a lot while reading it.

To give you only some illustration as to what I meant: To get Anna to join him for a coffee during her shift of working at Walmart, Earl bought the whole company just so that she could take the afternoon off. And then they ride the helicopter to go to Starbucks - that’s just right across the street. And my personal favourite was when Anna and her two best friends crashed their car into the sea; Earl drained the Pacific Ocean to save them. There’s plenty more where that came from and I wish I could tell them all in this post.

The pseudonymous author also name dropping names of public figures that associates with Earl Grey: Names like Bill Gates, Jay-Z, Nicholas Sparks, and Vin Diesel, which were “included only to enhance the overall value and effectiveness of the parody”.

Like the original Fifty Shades of Grey, in this book Anna Steal’s virginity were also taken by Earl Grey, but with so much comical effect that I don’t think anyone will be able to milk the moose with it. Their boom-chick-a-wow-wow made Anna horny; and combine that with Earl’s character, they make for one sex-crazed couple.

“Moan,” I moan. “Moan, moan, moooooooan”

That sentence right there seems like a dig at Stephenie Meyer’s New Moon:

Aro laughed. “Ha ha ha,” he giggled.

That’s not the only Twilight reference. Even though I did not watch the movie properly, I do remember when Bella Swan found out she was pregnant. Even though it was only about fourteen days since the wedding, Bella can already feel the baby moving inside her body. It’s not even a week since they first puddle-snuggling and Anna can already feel the baby kicking.

Even until the end of the book the pseudonymous author did not pipe down the hilarity, and anyone with a sense of humour for a pogo in the shrub parody of Fifty Shades of Grey should love this book.

This blog post is part of On My Bookshelf series of Around the Year in 52 Books reading challenge.

On My Bookshelf: Around the Year in 52 Books

I bet every bookworms and Pinterest addicts have stumbled upon reading challenges at least once or twice. I have shown interest in taking said challenge but keep putting it off, and before you know it, three years had passed. I even had a library card made last year to encourage reading, but with every books borrowed I had to return with hardly five chapters read. I think I only read seven books last year, for light reading. Not my greatest achievement, but to the best of my abilities.

I happened upon another book challenge again, but one that I rather like. So I thought this year, I should really give it a shot. It’s called Around the Year in 52 Books. That's 52 books in 52 weeks, for me to read and write a review in no particular order whatsoever. And for that I decided to start a pioneer series called On My Bookshelf.

The reading challenge was for last year, but I will keep the year on default for authenticity sake.

1. A book that was nominated for or won an award in a genre you enjoy

2. A book with one of the 5 Ws in the title

3. A book by an authorwhose name contains A, T, and Y

4. A book with a criminal character

5. A book written or inspired by Shakespeare

6. A book with a dual timeline

7. 2 books related to the same topic, genre or theme: #1

8. 2 books related to the same topic, genre or theme: #2

9. A book from one of the top 5 money making genres

10. A book featuring a historical figure

11. A book related to one of the 12 Zodiac Chinese Animals

12. A book about reading, books, or an author / writer

13. A book from a New York Public Library Staff Picks list

14. A book with a title, subtitle, or cover related to an astronomical term

15. A book that set in or by an author from a Mediterranean country

16. A book told from multiple perspectives

17. A speculative fiction

18. A book related to one of the elements on the periodic table of elements

19. A book by an author who has more than one book on your TBR

20. A book featuring indigenous people

21. A book for a suggestion from the ATY 2019 polls that was polarising or a close call

22. A book with a number in the title or on the cover

23. 4 books inspired by the wedding rhyme: #1 Something Old

24. 4 books inspired by the wedding rhyme: #2 Something New

25. 4 books inspired by the wedding rhyme: #3 Something Borrowed

26. 4 books inspired by the wedding rhyme: #4 Something Blue

27. A book from the 1001 Books to Read Before You Die list

28. A book related to something cold

29. A book published before 1950

30. A book featuring an elderly character

31. A children’s classic you’ve never read

32. A book with more than 500 pages

33. A book you have owned for at least a year but haven’t read

34. A book with a person’s name in the title

35. A psychological thriller

36. A book featured on an NPR Best Books of the Year list

37. A book set in a school or university

38. A book not written in traditional novel format

39. A book with a strong sense of place or where the author brings the location / setting to life

40. A book you stumbled upon

41. A book from the 2018 GR Choice Awards

42. A book with a monster or monstrous character

43. A book related to STEM

44. A book related in some way to a TV show / series or movie you enjoyed

45. A multi-generational saga

46. A book with a (mostly) black cover

47. A book related to food

48. A National Book Award finalist or winner from any year

49. A book written by a Far East Asian author of set in a Far East Asian country

50. A book that includes a journey

51. A book published in 2019

52. A book with a weird or intriguing title

NEVER ANNOY A WRITER UNLESS YOU WANT TO FEATURE IN THE NEXT STORY THEY WRITE...

You're on thin fucking ice my pedigree chums, and I shall be under it when it breaks. Now fuck off!

- Snatch

What do I see when I look outside of the bedroom window...

I sat in the car with my father, waiting for the school to end to pick up a student, and I looked up just in time to see a toddler hauling a broken cement stone to a place by the chain link fence. To us adults, it may seem like she's just making herself tired for no reason. But in her mind she's probably imagining building a house. I kept my eyes on her, wondering why this scene is so familiar.

Then I remembered.

In a flash it brought me to my childhood home in Kudat. We lived next door to a community hall that also double as Tadika Kemas. I was probably three or four years old at the time, because I remembered staying home and had to be fed bottles of milk whenever I wanted. The house we lived in had this old school style window that reaches to the floor. I also remembered this detail because when I was spying on the kindergarteners, I was sitting on the floor.

The last kindergarteners to leave Tadika Kemas were usually in groups of four or five people. There's an oil palm tree growing by the fence, just one. It's old enough to grow fruit, but not too tall because all the kindergarteners had to do was stand of their tip toes to pick the fruit out.

I found it fascinating. One of them pick a sharp stone the size of their palm and will gently knock the stone around the oil palm fruit to prise it out of the bunch. They usually pick just one fruit for each of them. The picker would hand the fruit they successfully extract and hand it to their friend. I remembered the picker said, 'Put it in our fridge'. There was no fridge of course. Just a little place on the fence's cement that they suddenly decide will be their "fridge".

In a group of four to five people, when only one of them was picking oil palm fruit, what were the others doing?

They crowd around under a tall guava tree, where another friend was climbing it. The fruit was so far up the tree that the said friend even had to stand on the community hall's garage roof top for a bit. They crowd around under the tree to be the eyes to the climber. I remembered they excitedly screaming at their friend 'to reach a little over on the left'. They pick any guava they could find, albeit unripe.

When they're done, they took turns biting into the guava, not wanting to lose to their friends by admitting that it's too bitter to consume. Or maybe, they already used to the taste, so they don't care. They did not forget to pocket the oil palm fruit. I loved it when I watched them pretending to open a fridge door, each of them took it from the "shelves" and put in in their kindergarten uniform. One of them chose to bite into it instead. 

I remembered thinking, 'Lucky kid'. After watching so many episodes of them playing pretend, I remembered telling someone (perhaps my nanny?) that I want to eat it so much, but the adults at my house said it will give me stomach ache.

Spoilsport...

I loved watching them whenever they played pretend. As a kid, I have no concept of time of course, but somehow my body knew when the Tadika Kemas ended, and I would rush into the bedroom, sat by the window and watch them.

It was one of my favourite memories as a kid.

Hundredth Day of Year Two Thousand Nineteen

Inspiration can come from anywhere - an image, a comment, something that's happened to me or someone I know. It's hard to know exactly.

- Nicholas Sparks -

Years ago, by my own standards, I was a very active blogger. I once reached a peak of creativity and I published a post once a day, almost every day of the week. I cannot afford a smart phone with Internet access like my peers back then, but I do owned a laptop and a USB broadband (Goodness, remember the USB broadband?). But then again, I can't very well lugged it around with me everywhere I went. So when I got an inspiration, I grip it tightly in my mind so I won't forget, got home and wrote it in my blog.

Those were the good days, it seems. I certainly hope that that wasn't the peak of my life and that I'm still climbing. Realising the stark comparison between the number of posts in my early years of blogging, I decided to start fresh: Build a new blog and delete the old one. Which you are reading now. But as you can see, even in the new blog, the posts were very few and far in between.

I lived a rather introverted life. I had very few friends who I hesitate to contact, just in case I bother them, so I am not really without friends I stayed home a lot, not doing much. I picked up some sewing skills, which I might share with you one of these days. But mostly I just watched TV shows these days, whether on the actual TV itself or on my phone. By living such life, my daydreams probably exceed that of an average person, so for me inspirations really can come from anywhere. Even when I was at a post office waiting for my number to be called, my head can spout a dozen of ideas to write, however ridiculous. Each and every one of my ideas, can fill at least a few pages.

With apps and websites being developed each day, in this day and age, inspirations are scattered everywhere waiting to be harvested. Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, YouTube, Instagram and many more, are abundant with raw ideas to develop.

Unfortunately, though inspirations really do can come from anywhere, the process of really executing it into something people can enjoy reading is an entirely different story.

So let's cut to the chase of the matter. I haven't been writing much lately not because I'm uninspired. It's because I'm unbelievably lazy.

And that's what made me disheartened.

Even so, don't think that I am giving up on myself. In fact, it was far from that.

I can't help but wonder though, where's the girl in me with the passion for writing. Was she upset that I pushed her out of the board room and replaced the writing team with TV shows. I hope she doesn't completely abandoned me. I want her back with a triple raise of salary.

And since we're talking about non-existent entities of imaginary corporation in our heads, I also want to call back the reading team. I only read a handful of books last year, why was that? I used to read a book a week, remember? Pull yourself together...

Anyway...

A few years ago, I had drawn up a blogging plan; with pre-picked topics, and meticulously spaced dates for posting. I didn't get to do it that year, so I moved it up to the next year. But the next year came and went, and I still did not hold up to my self-expectations. If you think the blogging plan were moved to this year, then you're so right. When I missed a few scheduled post in January, I remembered thinking, 'It's okay, it's free-trial month'. Then February came, but it was March when I finally come to my senses.

I cannot keep breaking my own promises.

It was also March when I scraped my blogging plans, compose myself and promised to return to blogging with a healthy and ready mind. Rather than following a list of topics to write in numerical order it came with, I decided to just write freely with whatever topic I want to write at the time. I will treat my return to blogging as I did (or at least tried) with everything else - stress-free.

And today is that day. Today, on the hundredth day of two thousand nineteen, I am publishing my first official post of the year. 

I'm still keeping the blogging plan. It might be useful in a few years, after another lengthy revision of course.

With that said, I'm saying goodbye for now. I'll be celebrating my return to blogging with a feast. See you in a few days.

Product Review: KFC Parmesan Truffle Crunch

When I first saw the latest KFC limited edition product, it was on a tall, slim billboard that you can see from far away, and I saw it on my way home with my brother. I was curious, but I did not immediately ordered my brother to stop by the nearest KFC. Or maybe I wasn't interested at all in the first place.

I came across KFC's advertisements on this particular product on Instagram every single time I logged in, you can watch it here. (Please excuse my beginner level's blogging skills, I have a lot to learn, it seems)

Anyway, whenever a video plays on Instagram, naturally I reached for the comments. People were divided over the taste of the new KFC product. While some say it's delicious, the other side that doesn't think it does though can agree with one thing... It's salty.

There's some people who tried to justify the saltiness. Number one: The fried chicken itself is salty. Number two: The Parmesan truffle is made out of cheese, that is known to be salty. Number three: The shredded Parmesan cheese itself is also salty. Now, what happens if you combine all the taste together, that person said. Of course it's going to be salty.

Provided with such evidence, I have to agree with that person on that.

So... Last Thursday, I walk into a KFC outlet, with full knowledge of what it will taste like, but I still bravely ordered and paid for two-piece KFC Parmesan truffle crunch set. I found myself a table, and I bite into my chicken, the one I have been anticipating for a while. It - taste - like - disappointment.

People had been commenting how salty it tasted and everything, but I will tell you exactly how salty it was. It taste like the dust on the bottom of your bag of chicken-flavoured crackers. While the crackers we put into our mouths were moderately salty, the moment you tipped the whole contents of the bag into your mouth, you'll be instantly attacked by the raw salty taste of artificial flavouring.

So, yes, I can confirm that the new KFC Parmesan truffle crunch is in fact salty. I came into a KFC franchise with clear head of not to get my hopes up, to be readily disappointed. But I was disappointed. Do you want to know why? I expect the saltiness to be from the chicken, from the cheese. I don't mind that type of saltiness. But I am certainly not happy to have to made myself eat chicken sprinkled with cracker dust. And on top of that, I'm pretty sure the chicken they gave me wasn't cooked through. The part where there's vein in the chicken, were still pink, and the meat doesn't came off cleanly from the bones, as should a cooked one does!

While I don't want my opinion on this new KFC product to be mistaken as being ungrateful to have food on my plate, for this one, I'm going to have to say no.

*Title updated on 31st January 2019. Originally titled KFC Parmesan Truffle Crunch.