Archives for category: Imperfect Wife

This morning, after my hubby had finally left with Raeven for my in-laws’ place, I was busy preparing the headlines for MSN (yes, I’m the one getting up at the break of day – together with my sidekick Junior – to make sure you get your fresh serving of MSN headlines every morning!). At about 10am, my handphone rang. It was my hubby. Thinking that perhaps he had forgotten something, I quickly answered it, only to be greeted by a whiney voice.

“I am SO disappointed!” said the man of my house. “The Uncle forgot my Chee Cheong Fun and I had to go because I’m already late for my appointment!”

For five minutes, this gentle giant whom I call my hubby and the father of our one-year old baby girl, bitched about how the CCF uncle, whom he had been patronising for some 17 years, could forget his order. He went on and on about the old man taking his loyalty for granted, about his tastebuds have now been unfairly deprived and cheated for having expected the CCF that never came, about how his entire day was now ruined, all for the love of Chee Cheong Fun.

Naturally, I had to coax him back to adulthood, finally telling him that he could go tomorrow morning and the uncle would no doubt give him double the CCF he usually ordered (six strips of noodles, six ‘fu chuk’s).

“I risked being late for my meeting just so I could eat the CCF,” he finally said resignedly, as if his best friend had betrayed him.

For those of you who are curious as to how nice this CCF actually is, it’s really not that great. Being from Ipoh (so you get an idea of my standards when it comes to really good CCF) where white rice noodles are meant only to be eaten with chopped green chillies, crispy fried small onions and a bit of soy sauce and oil, I still do not see the appeal of soy strips and fishcake and fishballs drenched in sweet brown sauce, having sampled my hubby’s obsession some four years ago (I’d been in KL seven yrs then and still had not tasted this gruesome ‘delicacy’). The first time I ordered KL CCF, I was wondering if the world had gone mad. What in the hell was all that sauce, and where were the noodles?

When my father intro-ed me to Penang CCF swimming in thick har kou (prawn sauce), my fears were confirmed. I longed for Ipoh CCF.

So what’s YOUR poison?

It never ceases to surprise me how one can be watching Discovery or Animal Planet or some such infotainment channel everyday, and still be surprised by the, well, discovery of another little known fact. And when one is in the office or at home, having a Really Bad Block, it’s the aimless wanderings of one’s mouse, clicking, clicking until you find something that completely blows your mind – or at least elicit a raised eyebrow.

For instance, did you know that there’s a sport in Estonia called “wife-carrying“? That’s right. WSJ reported recnetly that Estonians excelled in this obstacle sport of sorts,where a man carries his “wife” and runs around a 278-yard oval track, which has a three -foot-deep water trough and two hurdles of wooden logs. This bizarre activity was actually started in Finland in the 19th century, when marauding gangs would make off with women from neighbouring villages. Now the Finns are losing out to the Estonians, and the rivalry is getting fiercer.

“The best way for a man to carry a woman is to dangle her upside down over his back, with her thighs squeezing his neck and her arms around his torso,” says world champ Margo Uusorg.

Brings new meaning to “to have and to hold”!

Someone said that bloggers are attention whores – who isn’t? Why do women like to shop? So that they can look their best. Why do they want to look their best? Because they want admiration and awe (read: attention), and if possible, even evoke a little bit of jealousy. Now I believe that a woman is truly beautiful ONLY if another woman thinks she is – because women are naturally catty! I know I am :)

But this isn’t what I wanted to say. What I wanted to report was that – drumroll – I’ve been selected to be a beta-tester for Project Petaling St!! Yay! Well, I’m charged with blogging for a purpose (not that I don’t have enough but I’m the sort who needs to throw her hat over the fence to get REALLY going) to test out their content feeding engine, just to see if it can withstand the traffic. A nobel feat indeed. And one that *hopefully* will get more traffic to my site :D. Attention! Gimme attention!

Anyway, back to beautiful women. Just yesterday, my hubby, and several other hot-blooded men spending a quiet afternoon at Starbucks in Bukit Damansara, were treated to a sight that trascended words and expensive, pretentious coffee – for a minute, that is. This Malay (think she is, not sure) goddess with honey coloured skin and breasts that were not at all gross in a white embroidered low-cut Lycra blouse and a sheer flair shirt that you could see through, especially because she was very nicely tanned and wore a white thong, came in, bought an espresso to go, and in what seemed like a slow fluid motion, swished through the glass doors of the cafe in her stilleto sandals (against the light) and away from our lives. It was as if time stood still. As a woman, I was both awe-struck, struck dumb and suddenly felt myself very ugly.

My hubby later came in the car with our lattes and asked if I saw the apparition in white. I said I did, and he gave me a long hug.

Ah well. You can’t win ’em all.

My husband has inadvertently turned into a homebody, and contrary to anyone’s guess, it is NOT by my design. Because of his job, Lokes has elected to stay home the rest of the time “to make up” for the long hours he works. Apart from dinner, bedtime and the occasional quickie, that’s all I see of him, really. I am glad he puts some effort into making up for his shortcomings. However, a few weeks before, he forgot all about his best friend’s birthday until it was a day later. It was then he said that he is condemned to suffer a friendless existence. It hit me there and then – I hope his kakis do not think that I’m the one keeping him at home!! Hence, I told Lokes to please make a policy of going out with his friends, do whatever it is they do, short of getting laid, because I am NOT a prison warden. And to please make sure his friends know that! So, he’s going out tonight to Viva – with his colleagues. I guess that’s better than nothing.

Good lord, it’s raining cats and dogs again. Lightning is streaking the sky like nobody’s business. Is my modem still working? Hello?