Thursday, November 18, 2004

Holiday reflections and Hunky men

This is my Raya reflections.

Sunday, 14 November 2004 @3.36pm
I’m feeling very happy cos I just hung up from the phone with the Wanderer, who called me ALL THE WAY FROM CANADA, to wish me ‘Selamat Hari Raya’. Nut. *affectionately* (smile)

Now if only my ke’chara will call me from Perth, and my teddy bear from New Zealand too! But he better call me next Saturday or there’ll be hell to pay!

I marvel at him really. Being able to jump ship to a foreign country to work and live. Very brave. Yet very young. For all his experience in work and in certain areas, he is still young. For some, age is something, not so much a barrier, but just a condition. It’s temporary, but exist nonetheless.

After church this morning I dropped my mom for her Chinese instrument class while my brother and I went to 1U to shop. I needed to do Christmas shopping anyway, but also as I was browsing the shops I was looking for clothes and things for myself.

I realised that I’ve fallen into a trap. A trap of being ‘just so’. It started after I went into teaching. The only meaning clothes had to me while teaching, was to present a decent, simple look. After all, I’m only teaching, I don’t need to dress to impress. It was different was I was in PR; clothes meant power, authority, intelligence and efficiency. When you are in PR, appearances matter. How else to pull the wool over clients’ eyes?

When you’re teaching, you are not modelling. They look at your skills, your quality of teaching. Not your clothes. Nevertheless I tried not to become dowdy. Unfortunately when I went into the magazine, I was already going downhill. Oh, if Chris were here he would have told me this a long time ago. But he isn't. So there. I remember the times he used to tell me that I looked good in this, I looked good in that, or why am I wearing that today. At the magazine I didn’t go out a lot. I only wear a smarter looking top when I did. Otherwise, I wore T-shirt and black pants to work everyday.

What prompted this ‘awakening’? Last week when a long-lost uni friend came back down from Cameron Highlands to meet up with A and I, after almost 2 years, we did the gurl thing – shopping. It has been that long that we three went shopping. And we used to toss each other clothes to try. "You should try this one, Ai", "Hey, this would look good on you, Jenn", "Amiee, try this, and try that colour".

I found myself staring at the mirror, in a very nice sleeveless-cum-halter blue top that was well matched with an A-line skirt with a slit on one thigh, and realised that I’ve never looked like that since September 2002. Jabbing a finger at myself in the mirror, I said, "I haven't seen you in a while." I lost the art of dressing after I left my PR job.

Time for a change.

* * *

Back to Today. Tomorrow I'll be in Sungei Wang ogling men. Our magazine is the official mag for the Fitness Men Championship and I have to represent the mag and accept some token of appreciation from the sponsors. My colleague put my name up. That bitch. *affectionately* I have going up on stages. Makes me self-conscious. Nevertheless, tomorrow is the semi-finals. There will be hunky men who work out at gyms regularly, muscles, speedos, tuxedos and all. *salivating* Can't hardly wait. If only I can bag one home now... sigh... Let me see if I can grab the camera from my editor and snap some good shots of these hunky men and post online and print for my wall. Cuci mata whenever I want to. ahahhaa.....


*For my foreigner frens, sight for sore eyes is the equivalent for 'cuci mata' .