Ellie has moved. She now resides in a quiet neighbourhood at www.itchykitschy.blogspot.com. Thank you for visiting.

Yes, I haven't been blogging much. Yes, I'm contemplating blog suicide for the fourth time. Yes, I'm having a baby. Okay, no that's not true but yes, if I were that interesting writer that everyone constantly spoke about and would take the time to make rumours about then yes, I'm agreeable to the whole baby idea. Yes, I'm feeling a little unappreciated.

I'll be back in two weeks.

Hair Do Hair Don't

I've always had a strong respect for individual professions. A makeup artist is established for being a makeup artist, a surgeon is renowned for his hands, and a writer is necessary for our sorry minds of rambled thoughts... and as most of you already know from the millions of angsty posts, I've never liked the fact that people out there are now calling themselves professionals in fields that are unlikely theirs. Especially when it comes to fashion e.g. good shoppers cum designers or pro camwhore blogger cum food expert. Yeah, that too.

A few days ago, I was caught in a dilemma. With a fashion show three hours away, I rushed to Qube Salon, in search of my usual miracle-worker. Instead, I was greeted by a temperamental hairstylist who, in my state of frustration, kept pointing out that I should've made an appointment first. So, I was left with one last option... a nearby salon which had the word "Professional" in its title. Okay, I thought to myself, this shouldn't be so bad.

I stepped in, expecting Audrey Hepburn with a twist of modernity.

I stepped out three hours later looking like a boy attacked by a curry puff AND a monkey.

It was disasterous, the oddity of this hairstyle that was puffed at the front, pinned flat at the back, and completed with a strand of sprayed stiff hair sticking out at an angle against my right ear. I could've done something to stop him as he was mangling my poor hair, but I hadn't the heart to inform the old "professional" that he made me, a normally pleasant and abiding customer, look and feel like shit threw up on shit. There was nothing left for me to do but rush home, empty a bottle of shampoo on my head, and brainstorm with hairpins and hairspray. Yes, you should thank God I'm not a hairstylist, but this wasn't as bad as the one I paid RM60 for. Next time, however, I'm leaving it up to an early appointment and an actual professional.

Happy Birthday Yulius

It's my husband's birthday today, and he's a year hotter. So to you, the love of my life, I wish you rainbows and unicorns and little mermaids and all the happiness your heart desires. You're perfect in every way, and I thank God for having brought you to me on this wonderful day. Happy birthday, my angel. :)

Strangers in Paradise

The strangest dream keeps recurring; I bump into a past stranger, and follow him into a darker area of life as it could've been. I remember him taking my hand, guiding me through the crowd of familiar faces, leading me home, but bringing me nowhere. I faintly remember his name, this stranger I barely knew.

According to some random website, recurring dreams occur when "something in your current situation strikes a similar emotional chord from your past; then the dream may resurface, like an emotional "home movie" of certain feelings and moods." Funny thing is, I have no feelings for this past stranger, and never had any. Well, possible guilt for having met him under the circumstances that we did, but even so... two years is a long enough time to erase all guilty pleasures/memories. After five days of fighting this repeated dream, he walks by. It's been two years since we last spoke, and now, as if lucidly predicted, he walks by. I simply turn away; after all, we merely shared a moment. In fact, I felt a sense of relief... My recurring dream was perhaps a sign of the future, a form of ESP, and nothing more. And now that it's happened, the dream should move on.

But if that's the case, why did I let him take my hand again last night?

Mark This Date

United we stand. It's a good day for a change in Malaysia. :)

Counting Blue Cars

It's a gloomy Thursday, and I'm feeling blue. Oh well, tomorrow's a new day. Time to redesign my life. Blue top with brown trim: Secondhand shop
Brown retro watch: Fossil
Brown flats: Sole Lovely
Denim pouch with flower: Marmalade Skies
Twiggy Lawson earrings: designed by Nan