A child's wisdom

Scratching Post, Weekender, The Star

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There are some articles I keep out of my folks' radar.

Sexually charged ones (my column may focus on fluffy feelgood stuff but rabbits are not conventionally associated with Lily White ok :P), and articles like these.

It'd only worry them silly, and then they'd worry me sick with questions I have no answers to like: "Girl, are you making enough? Don't worry about mum and dad. We have more than enough to spend from our pension."

... the point is, I come from a very traditional family, with a firm set of values that includes the automatic expectation that after your folks have raised you and put you through university, it's now your turn to give back.

I miss that part of my corporate life. BAD. I miss sending them on holidays, giving them healthy doses of pocket money, surprising them with an expensive meal or two.

Right. Time to actually actualize that best-seller novel huh?

Bitch as I might about the sucky customers and ridiculous demands, I would never go back to my desk job. Still, it's only normal, I suppose, to have the odd dark moment of doubt ...

This article sprung from one of those dark moments. I had another more chipper piece already drafted but somehow, it felt disengenuous to send off a piece that didn't mirror my mood of the moment. As my deadline drew nearer, I started to panic. How? I don't have anything else that reflected the conflict that was percolating inside. And I didn't want Navel Gazer to deviate from my original vision of what it was: an honest, unvarnished reflection of my feelings of the moment.

Luckily, my meeting with Fenny came along and saved the day, phew!

On unrelated matters, may I have your indulgence, ladies and gentleman:

I just started a new fashion diary blog at http://frockout.blogspot.com

I originally intended it to be an online blogshop to sell off my pre-loved baju but I'm having so much fun recording my sartorial musings so, as the wise sages say, que sera sera!

My pretty new sandals :)

It was an experiment for both of us.

Me: I'd never known there were such things called painted shoes.

Her: she'd done this on canvas, and glass, and ceramic ... but never rubber. And cheap rubber at that (psst...these pasar malam sandals cost a fiver shhhhh)

Neither of us had any idea how they would turn out - whether the paint would last, or the patterns would turn out pretty, but I needn't have worried. In the sure hands of Carmen Hah, a grimy pair of sandals was given a fresh new lease of life.

Pretty and delicate enough to satisfy my feminine wiles, yet free-spirited enough to appease my hippie sensibilities :)

This, ladies and gentlemen, is just the tip of the iceberg. To see more of what Carmen can do, hop over to carmenbrushtech.blogspot.com/

And to Denis, thanks for providing the link. Truly, your cosy diner is Ipoh's answer to Cheers, where everybody knows your name. Can't wait to sink my teeth into your delectable smoked duck and spaghetti carbonara *drools*

Gosh. It's amazing how one simple story can set off such a long chain in motion ;)

Stickynote

I think I owe visitors to this blog an apology.

This is not a blog, and it was never conceptualized as one.

In the beginning, I merely wanted a space on the web to archive my articles, a link that I could send to potential clients that I was pitching to.

Then as I posted up stories, I grew restless. The crude scans (which I took with a camera ok since I obviously can't afford an A3 scanner!!) seemed too sterile, too clinical, too ....dead.

Unable to refrain myself, I started writing short notes about each article, which gradually expanded into these long-winded posts you're reading now *smiles ruefully*

There is so much I want to say. There is so much more that goes into an article apart from the final printed word.

The stories behind the scenes often go unaccounted for because readers only want the polished dish or down-and-dirty deetz - depending on whether you're reading Tatler or Perez Hilton ... right?

Well not to me though. I love the uncensored elemental rawness of a tale told ad lib ... it makes the subject seem much more human somehow.

Anyway, I wanted to get this off my chest for a loooooooooong time now. So there. Done. Phew.

And since this is neither a blog, nor a portfolio proper, shall we call it a ... blogfolio? :)