snow.on.the.sahara

i feel OLD.

for all i couldn't invite, my sincere apologies. it doesn't indicate you mean any less to me.

for more photos, ive updated my album.

some people were born with straight hair for a reason.

i'm one of them.

which is why i should have known better than to ask my hairstylist for 'big round bouncy curls' at my appointment last sunday.

see, there's this chick in my department at work with the most gorgeous hair. when she walks it's like a freakin' pantene advertisement. her hair, with its Big Round Bouncy Curls, just swishes and bounces and makes her look like a million bucks.

i cant describe the look, as words fail me, but ill be sure to put up a pic of something similar if i get my hands on one.

i told my stylist about this chick, describing the look and using my hands to describe how big and bouncy her curls were (!), and he assured me it could be done.

three assistants put my hair up in a headband, and proceeded to slather on buckets of cream to the ends.

wait 10 minutes, rinse.

then the chemicals went on, stinky stuff that i can still smell right now if i turn my head quick enough to catch a whiff of it (urgh).

hair is rolled up into curlers. the look is distinctly terrifying. anyone with plans to blackmail me, ever, should start by taking photos of me in the hair salon.

wait forever. neck sore from heavy curlers. finally, rinse.

curlers removed. more cream slapped on. neck sore from sheer amount of cream in hair.

wait 10 minutes. rinse.

blowdry with hairdryer with weird appendage attached. quite scary.

hair looks poofy. diana ross comes to mind.

stylist returns. snip snip, snip snip. more cream. tug, tease, yank, yank, yank.

done.

i look in the mirror. my knees go weak.

fast forward to today and you'll see that indeed i do now have curls, just not Big Round Bouncy ones (hmmm...something doesnt sound quite right about that phrase) but Stringy Straggly Maggi-Mee ones.

i think: some people were just not born to have curls in their hair.

god damn that chick's beautiful Big Round Bouncy Curls.

one of the nicest things about working at my new place (irregardless of one miserable colleague who is happier being miserable) is that there is a culture of kindness.

i called in ill today, after two weeks of nearly killing myself with stress.

but despite being sick and having every reason to take this much-needed rest, i felt truly gawd-awfully guilty about it.

first, because amir is on a month-long hiatus (doctor's orders, after being hospitalized a week for burn-out), there is no one to replace me as the presenter for our show if i go AWML (Away With Medical Leave!).

except for bernama's imran yacob, and we won't go there, shall we?

second, because as it is already, we're severely under-staffed. imagine two people trying to put together an entire news program. one is reporting and producing the entire show, the other is reporting, assistant producing AND presenting the entire show.

on top of that, you have the weekend shows to worry about (what to do, who to interview, how to angle it, when to squeeze in the interview, yada yada).

as a result, id been feeling the onslaught of this illness for a few days now, but only dared admit defeat today.

almost immediately, the kindness kicks in.

amir offers to return to the office to take my place, so i won't need to worry about the show.

and amy, my boss, forbids me to return to work even tomorrow, despite the fact ive only got a day's medical leave.

they tell me to rest, to fully recover; and i feel that it's not just because they're buggered if i kick the bucket and they'd have to hire someone new, i sense there's genuine concern for me to get better.

it's so unlike my old place, where i was MADE to feel guilty whenever i fell sick, and as a result i dragged myself to work for a week with a full-blown bout of flu.

or how about that raya last year, where i did a live-crossover with tonsillitis in a voice that sounded distinctly like louis armstrong. lol.

if i may use an analogy... does anyone remember that favourite teacher you had at school you'd have done anything for, and not because he/she was hot, with a bosom like pammie's or an arse like pitt's?

it was no doubt their kindness to you that made you want to give your best, even when the entire faculty had written you off as a trouble maker/loser/good-for-nothing/dumb-ass.

though im ill, i feel invigorated today, in a way. sorta bowled over. and when i return to work on thursday, my colleagues can count on it that ill be right back in there to give it my all.

a little kindness really does go a long way.

on a lighter note...

i read with interest prideless74's pooh-pooh in my comment box for the 'is this a prank?' post.

lol.

dear prideless (and i DO know who you are, by the way ;p)

not everyone the world might think looks attractive wakes up in the morning feeling gorgeous.

personally, im quite taken aback by my own shocking image when i stumble to the bathroom at 6.30am, all bleary-eyed with bed-hair two feet high.

i also happen to think i look quite awful without make-up.

in fact, i think the whole world might be quite horrified if they saw me without make-up.

has anybody who's ever read this blog ever seen me without even a dot of foundation?

or a splash of eyeshadow?

ill bet your bottom dollar none of you have.

or that you ever will.

that's because, like it or not, im deeply self-conscious.

i dont believe my own boyfriend when he tells me he loves me best freshly scrubbed and all shiny-red-faced.

i dont take compliments well, simply because i dont know how to respond.

"no lah, where got?"

"not wearing your glasses today, are you?"

"kidding, right?"

it's only when i remember my mother telling me its rude to respond that way to a compliment that i smile and say "thank you".

i grew up very round with spindly knock-kneed legs.

i went through high school with a bad haircut, braces and acne.

i got dumped 10 times before i was 18.

can you honestly expect me to believe im gorgeous?

and really.

a phone call from the female magazine crew may have gotten me all excited and red and flustered, but there's always had to be a 'but' there somewhere.

so yeah...they called. and yeah, i eventually discovered the nomination WAS for real (thanks kev), BUT yeah, they also havent called me back since.

yes, im disappointed.

BUT at least i had my one 'gorgeous' day until reality stepped in, kicked me in the ass and reminded me that what matters more is not that you're gorgeous (or not), it's not what people think, it's not even whether you believe you are or not.

what matters most is that ive got a steady career, a loving family, loving boyfriend, and some friends that really care.

come to think of it, who gives a rats ass if im gorgeous, least of all me?

i had my one day. and that's probably as gorgeous as im ever going to get.

cheers.

im horrible at goodbyes.

i cry endlessly and the unfortunate result is that it makes the other person (read: kai) feel quite guilty for leaving.

but i cant help it; im a bloody softie.

the place where my heart was is empty, and i dont know how else to react.

kai left for penang again today, after a precious week where we remembered how lovely it feels to be together again.

it took a while to adapt to each other, after five months apart, but just as soon as the passion returned, well, there he went...off once more.

i know he must tactfully divide his time between his family there and me here, and im trying to be as understanding as possible.

but the truth is, today, so badly, i just wanted to be selfish and keep him all to myself.

i dont know how other people handle goodbyes, much less long distance relationships.

its so ridiculously difficult...and i bet it takes one hell of a lover to make anyone want to put themselves through endless rounds of overjoyed hellos and tearful goodbyes.

i know i should dry my eyes, cheer up and tell myself to get off my miserable ass and be strong, but right now, i dont want to.

i want to miss him.

come back.

:(

stayed up til about 3 something last night, reading through the latest blog to come to my short-spanned attention.

i regularly bump into this woman in the lift or corridor at work. she is unforgivingly beautiful, it's just not fair to those less beautiful that God made women like this.

more often than not, she's without a stitch of make-up and her hair in two little pig tails. she wears jeans and cotton shirts and looks every inch like a celebrity-on-her-day-off.

read asha gill's blog @ http://ashagill.com/diary.php

when i was 13, bunking at my best friend's place for the night was a huge treat.

being hugely over-protected by my parents for most of my pre-teen life, it was a big deal getting away from home for even a few hours, much less one whole night.

my best friend at the time was a very tall and rather large girl named katrina, who had always been the more worldly of us two, and way more knowledgeable about boys than i had ever been.

katrina was never very comfortable about her size. at 13, i was three quarters her height and bear in mind, i was 5 feet 2 inches tall.

much as katrina knew about boys, i suppose because of her size she was always rather shy around them. alone, the two of us would talk endlessly about our eminent first kiss, what it would be like, when, how and with whom.

but put her with the guys, and my tall tall friend, so self assured when it was just us two, would go rather pink and be all self conscious and as quiet as a mouse.

which leads me to the point of this story.

one rare occasion when i did secure the necessary permission to stay over at kat's place, she came up with a brilliant plan.

knowing no boys beyond the three in our class who could actually speak english, our experience with romance, she decided, was pathetically limited.

if we were going to be kissed anytime soon, kat said, we had better start acquainting ourselves with some male-female social skills pretty damn soon.

knowing only one guy's phone number at the time, kat announced that we were going to practice the art of female seduction by prank-calling the unsuspecting fellow.

the naive dimwit that i was, i gaily went along with the whole idea, not realising it was me she intended to make that all-important call.

tucked in bed with the lights off, we waited, whispered and connived until 12 when the lights went out in her parents' bedroom. and then, we snuck out of her room and made our way to the phone downstairs.

confidently picking up the receiver and stubbing out the numbers with a deft forefinger, kat looked the very picture of poise as she waited for the first ring.

and then...

she threw the phone at me.

hurry up! she hissed. talk! it's him!

gingerly clutching the receiver, wide-eyed, afraid of my tall tall best friend and the authority of her voice, i ventured to read the script kat had prepared for the prank.

"your eyes..." (i read) "...are like the stars that smile down at me from the night sky..."

(for a 13 year old, i must admit she was rather skilled at the art of romantic prose, trained most efficiently by volume after volume of that revered tome we call mills&boons).

"...your skin is as soft and tempting to the touch as the down in my warm blanket..." (i kid you not)

"...your smooth black hair glistens and beckons me to caress it..."

(and of course, there had to be kat's punchline)

"...and your braces sparkle so brilliantly in the white moonlight."

(and when i realised i was being had; that in fact, it was me being made the target of her cruel joke; that the point of the prank was to make me the fool, not him... only then it dawned on me to stop gaping in shock of how stupid she'd made me sound and hang up.)

kat and i remained as friends a few more years afterwards, but that night i discovered there really was a reason she referred to me, when speaking to others, as her "5 foot armrest".

i was her joke, and it was fun to fool around with me simply because i was too unsuspecting, too naive and too gullible for my own good.

and so, after all this long winded storytelling, can somebody (kindly) please tell me who 'nominated' me as one of female magazine's 50 most gorgeous people, or at least alert me if i'm being totally had.

to be honest, the thought that it might be a prank never crossed my mind until i told mum the good news.

and to me, it was good news. i'd wanted to blog about it straight away. i mean, how often does something cool like this happen to a person?

mum's first response was "are you sure it's not a prank?"

since then, ive searched the net, googled a few hundred combinations of 'female', 'magazine' '50' 'gorgeous' and 'people', and as far as my gullible eyes can see, there just might be no such thing at all.

i sure never heard of it until the person at the other end of the line told me about my nomination. oh, and that it was apparently quite a well-known annual event for the magazine.

if it were, wouldnt there be as much hype about it as cleo's 50 most eligible bachelors?

sigh.

and to think that yesterday, when i received the call, and then the email, i was so excited at the idea that someone somewhere thought i was, apparently, 'gorgeous'.

first, upon opening said blog page, aim cursor at top left of page, slightly off centre.
when annoying pop-up ad appears, click as if your life depended on it.
this will save you the hassle of having to delete numerous adware from your registry later on.
within the next two seconds, your cursor must already be poised and ready next to the task bar (bottom right of screen).
as annoying pop-up (2) prepares to load, click as if your life depended on it (and trust me, it does. just try spending hours cleaning up your registry and you'll see why).
once this has been achieved, browse as you wish.
repeat should you choose to refresh the page.

p.s. could someone kindly, ever so kindly, remove the creator of gocybersearch.com from the face of this earth forever? thank you.

i remember there was a reason for not wanting to do long-distance.

after the last experience of it, i dont think anyone can blame me for being twice-shy about the prospect.

but truth is, when He came along, i forgot the reason.

bowled over, really, by Him...i woke up one blissful morning after an even more blissful night, looked up at him and decided i would wait.

without so much as a thought, or worry, i said i would wait.

that is what love is, after all, is it not?

a rush of feeling, spontaneity, blindness. a stirring in your soul.

that's why people always tell you never to think with your heart, but your head.

in that split moment it took me to say those words, i changed the course of my life forever.

before that, the future was as far as december. after that, it was to have been mine and mine alone.

i'll wait for you.

and He looked down at me, and it took a while to register, and His eyes glazed over, and His Heart was all over His face, and He loved me more than ive ever been loved by anyone. ever.

today, i remember why i didnt want to do long distance.

its hard.

especially when trust is a bigger word for you than love.

we fought, bickered, cried, doubted, almost-ended-everything for five whole months. weekly.

it was hard.

but today, i dont just remember why i didnt want to do long distance.

i remember why i did it anyway.

i remember the depth of feeling that led me to change my life forever.

i remember the blissful morning, and the even more blissful night.

i remember His Face.

i know, given the moment all over again, id have said the same thing.

im here. we're still here. and yes, we're still fighting.

but this time,

we're fighting for us.

hello all!

im back in blogdom, and i bring with me a new friend!

*drumrollplease*

introducinnnnnnnng....

amirmahmoodrazak

i shall say no more...visit and hear him speak his piece. :)

I'm Dying, Dying to wake up without you, without you in my head again
I'm Dying, Dying to forget about you, that you ever lived
There's a shade come over this heart that's coping with laying down to rest
I'm Dying to live without you again

I'm Dying, Dying to find a distraction, get you away from me
I'm Dying, Dying to reach a conclusion, so that the world can see
It's the same old story of love and glory that broke before it bent
I'm Dying to live without you again

The first time you left I said goodbye
Now there's not a prayer that can survive

Dying, Dying to die just to come back so we can meet again
Dying, Dying to say what I always should have said
It's a strange emotion this but there's still hope in this
As long as there's a breath...
I'm Dying and I can't live without you again

It's a strange emotion this but there's still hope in this
As long as there's a breath...

I'm Dying and I can't live without you
I'm Dying and I can't live without you again.