tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23654809594568466102024-03-05T14:35:19.416+08:00Heart and SoulLynnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06866508941503917590noreply@blogger.comBlogger38125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365480959456846610.post-64081400696475232202009-02-08T11:33:00.000+08:002009-02-08T11:33:39.860+08:00Day 2Woke up feeling worse. My body ached big time. My head felt like it had been hit by a baseball bat. I vomitted.<br /><br />A few spoonfuls of chicken porridge was all I could muster. A cup of coffee and my medication. That was it.<br /><br />Sean is oblivious to his mommy's feeling, oh how wonderful it is to be a child. He's sad his pet is gone. While having breakfast he saw a cat on the patio and he said, "Poor Knut. No one is looking after her." I bit my lips in an effort not to show my sadness about the situation. Outside, Beano, our neighbor's Australian Silky Terrier, is barking for Knut, his usual routine every morning. He gets really excited if he sees Knut. Guess he's got no playmate any longer. We leave the sliding door ajar every night and day in case Knut comes back.<br /><br />I've to shower. Roy has bought movie tickets to watch a movie at Pavilion KL. I don't really feel like leaving the comfort of my couch and sweat pants. Sean's watching Open Season 2 on DVD. At least that has managed to put a smile on my face. My guys are great for setting a mood...<br /><br />Alrightie, gotta go now.<br /><br />Sliding door will remain open.Lynnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06866508941503917590noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365480959456846610.post-67168411396578929162009-02-08T01:57:00.002+08:002009-02-08T01:57:37.905+08:00Knut The Lovely<div align="justify">I’m so sad I don’t even know how to begin. This time I can’t really compartmentalize my feelings, I can’t divide my thoughts and really all these emotions are making me sick. Like sick I fell ill. I haven't been feeling up to the weather since last week but what happened yesterday had officially put me in the ill category. I’m drained out though I try so hard not to cry my eyes out but I’m just mentally tired now. See how I digress..?<br /><br />My kitten is missing. My lovely baby is gone. Memories of her keep reeling in my head, from the first time I saw that tiny scrawny little kitten trying to make it across the road that night when our car was at the traffic lights about to turn into our neighborhood, to how I begged my husband to go get her and how I will take care of her as in clean her potty and bathe her and feed her also groom her to how my husband refused at first knowing how his wife always gets away not fulfilling the first one. Oh how I begged and begged thinking then the chance was so slim as we had driven past the guard post when Roy so sweetly pulled over and got out of the car and out of the area to get my little baby from across the road. It’s funny how you know something is meant to be yours the first time you lay eyes on it.<br /><br />When we took the little kitten in it was barely a month old, the tiny quivering body with prominent ribcage that had never had human contact before based on how she had bitten Roy’s hand when he tried to feed her with kitten food. Roy practically screamed with pain and she wouldn’t let go of his hand until Roy had to yank the bloodied hand away. We didn’t even know what to call her. Heck we didn’t even know if it was a girl or a boy as it was too small tell. All of us came up with all sorts of name, my son wanted to call her Speedy seeing her pace running around playing with the toy ball we gave her. I thought Speedy wasn’t it. Then I thought of Zorro because of the black fur around her eyes which resembled Zorro’s mask. Anyway I still felt it wasn’t the name for her. Until I remembered how I used to love <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Knut_(polar_bear)" target="_blank">Knut the polar bear</a>, I knew it will grow to be as cute as Knut. Yes Knut is a male name, but she responded to that name. And so it was. Knut. Noot-noot when I buried my face in her tummy. Noot-noot when I called her inside for her milk when she was playing in the lawn. Noot-noot when she kissed my face all over before she crept under the cover to sleep between my feet.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300112562541396882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 357px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyzCfarTYexMh7U0EkR2E8Bm9FZ8WyvDL12jhsCvQbea7F6-6c-bF7J4-zZInqWNb3_SrmdukkJu5RWYwP2mWwOd3UJm62uLm8by6UgivwhiZnx9L7P_sLflUBs8TSS4BKoKPB4cWaoZk/s400/Knut+3+weeks.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;">There she is with the laundry.</span><br /></em><br /></p><div align="justify">Four months on and how she had grown. Physically she was bigger, fatter, no protruding bones anymore, as active as ever with beautiful shiny fur. I thought I was being biased but when a few friends came over one night for a round of card game saw her and complimented her looks I knew I wasn’t being biased. My parents especially my mom loved her. She slept with us every night. Without fail. Even if she had spent her day in and out of the house (she’s not a house cat per se) she would come back at bedtime. She would wake up with us in the morning, fight with Roy over who got to use the bathroom first (her potty’s in the bathroom Roy uses) then she would rush upstairs to my bathroom and stayed in there while I showered for work. She would sit curiously across the room looking at me getting ready putting my make up on, getting dressed and making the bed. I would carry her, cuddle with her for the last time before carrying her downstairs and making my way out.<br /><br />Last night was the last I saw of her. We played outside and I saw her sprawling in front of my neighbor’s house and a little girl called to her and tried so hard to touch her. Anyone who has cats would know how snobbish a cat could be. A cat will come when it wants to, not when it’s called. My Knut was that except towards her family. My Knut was actually a scaredy cat. She’s even scared of our gardener whom she sees everyday. When the trash truck comes round she’d dash inside and hide behind the curtains. She wasn’t as friendly as our other cats before her (when I’m ready I’ll tell you about Louis and Louis the 2nd). But she was a lovable one to those she’s close to and familiar with. I found out from my neighbor today that her daughter loved playing with Noot-Noot. I’m glad other people found her adorable and lovable.<br /><br />Knut has not come back for two nights now. Last night Roy went out on a search after midnight seeing how she hadn’t come back. Today all of us went on a few rounds of search again. No sight of her. Word has been put out. I can’t bring myself to put up posters around the neighborhood because that will just tear me apart seeing her pictures all over and coming back to an empty house. No more Knut curling at our feet, no more wet dripping kisses at night, no more the naughty girl who played with the neatly folded laundry and no more soft purr in my ears. </div><br /><div align="justify"></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300113805061211282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfz2pfJjxEieTDvQ1_j_Wgxbt-1iVl6S7yiFVb5eIdPdG9K4vbxplQeTNfRAo1C3ZxHT-PMbm71h-wbMnKzUq4IPdhUCd86_n3RbGN-k9g8DxyVlfXo7HNiEn8_rUzmDE6E79ghGH-2xY/s400/DSCN3496.JPG" border="0" /> <div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;">There she goes again.....</span></em></div><div align="left"></div><div align="justify">Tonight I realize maybe she wasn’t meant to be mine anyways.<br /><br />Wherever she is I hope she is safe. Whomever she is with I hope he or she will love Knut and care for her. I hope she remembers my love for her.<br /><br />I don’t think I’ll be ready for any more cats after this. Three times is just too many.<br /><br />Excuse me, but I think the dam's gates have opened. </div><div align="justify"></div>Lynnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06866508941503917590noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365480959456846610.post-77788607978547035762009-02-05T16:22:00.002+08:002009-02-05T16:27:06.133+08:00When you feel the world is caving in on you....<p><object height="250" width="384"><param name="movie" value="http://dreams.honda.com/pod_embed.swf?vid=fa&sDomain=dreams.honda.com"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://dreams.honda.com/pod_embed.swf?vid=fa&sDomain=dreams.honda.com" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="384" height="250"></embed></object></p><p> </p><p>But I still hate Honda, heheheheheeeeee!!</p>Lynnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06866508941503917590noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365480959456846610.post-12892263726719291272008-11-19T23:09:00.000+08:002008-11-19T23:09:26.847+08:00I think I need a holidayThis morning when I was about to leave for work I almost had a heart attack. I couldn't find my favorite Bally shoes. The past week the roads in our area are being resurfaced and that means strangers are free to walk up and down the street. We live in a private and guarded area so we never close our gates, one because we don't have those electric remote control gates and two, it rains almost everyday nowadays so I hate to get myself wet while opening the gates, which I will if we keep them closed.<br /><br />Imagine me not finding my shoes. I shrieked and asked frantically to my husband if someone had entered into our compound and took my shoes from the shoe closet. Hubby was as scared as me, but more for fear of our house being trespassed more than anything else obviously. I frantically ran to the store room. Looked in the Bally boxes, no black heels in sight. I was already hyperventilating. Ran to the patio and raided the shoe closet there. Opened my gardener's storage/closet. Didn't find them there too. I was already close to tears and ready to call in sick. I ran back to the store inside the house and looked in EVERY box. And there they were, my Bally heels. Tucked safely in a Nine West box. What was I thinking keeping shoes astray from their rightful box?<br /><br />Why did I react this way today? Could it be because dear Ruby wrote a <a href="http://labeletterouge.blogspot.com/2008/11/no-sole-salvation.html" target="_blank">tragic post of missing shoe collection</a> and that I totally feel her pain? After the bad days at the office I wasn't prepared for more in my private life.<br /><br />I keep forgetting things nowadays. I need a holiday. Or maybe a shrink.Lynnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06866508941503917590noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365480959456846610.post-56052769805785623832008-11-18T23:47:00.001+08:002008-11-18T23:47:43.956+08:00It's My Blog and I'll Whine If I Want To<strong>-EPISODE 1-</strong><br /><br /><br />Hmmm been a while since I last wrote. And all postings had been put on halt due to crazy schedule and manic turn of events at work. Well now since I possess the will to write I shall tell you about the turn of event of my life at work last week.<br /><br /><br />As most of you would've already known, I was a SAHM previously until I decided to get back to work full time in March this year due to a too-good-to-resist offer as an Office Manager. I wish I could say it was to good due to its monetary factor, but no, I gave that up for the location (5 minutes drive from home) and portfolio (relatively less stress than my old portfolio in terms of travelling and work load). In my life before as a career woman I was the Head of Corporate Communications at a telecommunication company that is affiliated (a subsidiary actually) to the monopoly in terms of almost everything telecommunications in Malaysia. I can say that I am used to office politics, even I wasn't spared from directors' bereaucracy. What I will not get used to is petty and/or personal attacking colleagues/superiors and unprofessional work manner. This, my peeps, is the root cause to my whining. Those who can't take it, please proceed to the online stores in teh Interweb for your holiday shopping, you're better off doing that than complain later why I shouldn't whine. Like I said in my title post, it's my blog so go figure. Yes, I may be small and look nice, but I was also born with the ability to snap and bite.<br /><br /><br />I had my probation assessment done last week after a 2 month delay due to my direct superior's secondment to another company and getting a time together had been a challenge. Nevertheless the time was made anyway last Thursday. Before we went on formally my boss (hereinafter refered to as Person #1) actually pushed the papers aside and "talked". I sensed it was the kind of talk a guy gives his girlfriend before saying "We're not right for each other", only this wasn't that, nor was Person #1 firing me, but the kind that tells you to buck up for what's coming next. He was very professional through it all, and remained so till the end and I had no qualms whatsoever. But when he started telling me that prior to seeing me he consulted the second person in line (hereinafter refered to as Person #2) because of his being away for 3 months now and Person #2 supervising me in his absence was the moment my gut feelings were cemented. After the whole gammut of "How do you think you're doing here?", "How do you like working with the people here?", yada yada yada, Person #1 began this whole thing about him being different, how he knew what that felt like and that he didn't mean it in any bad way at all. Uh huh, I knew where he was getting at. Person #1 conveyed to me that he gathered from Person #2 that some people at the workplace expressed difficulty communicating with me because of my "socio-economy standing", my "personality" and my "background". These are not the people in the same company I work in rather those attached to our sister companies and under the same roof.<br /><br /><br />My whine #1: since when being different is bad?<br /><br /><br />Whine #2: so if other people can't communicate well with me, it's my fault???<br /><br /><br />Person #1 analogized me further with the owner cum Executive Chairman's daughter (who's also a staff). Now, this was a lady of extreme wealth and social standing, dresses designer from head to toe and carefree (at last that's what I think). In my heart of course I was flattered, come on, admit you like that too when you get it. But feling flattered and irritated over the same thing is crazy, no?<br /><br /><br />To that person/s who couldn't/can't communicate with me because of me: Fuck you! Fuck your twisted mind!<br /><br /><br />This being done, Person #2 joined us to commence the joint evaluation. A set of questions were run through, 1 to 5 points style, 5 being the highest. I hover between 3 and 5 in all categories. It got personal when Person #1 wanted to rate me 5 and Person #2 mentioned (with me there) she never got a 5 and she never gave a 5 (except for another friend of mine - of course I know, I'm the office manager! I handle all documents), and "Why should she get a 5?". S.H.I.T. Because I'm good, duhhhh. To strike a balance between them I looked on while box number 4 was checked. F.U.C.K.<br /><br /><br />Might I add that our evaluation form was a lousy one even Person #1 couldn't believe such a point system was still in use. Anyways, we sailed through and Person #1 tried the best to give me a high rating, and after 2 rounds of doing so I admitted to feeling indifferent when he asked.<br /><br /><br />Whine #3: why are you complaining now, surely you have seen this form before evaluating Person #2? She reports to you too. Aaaaah no, she got confirmed over talking over lunch downstairs.... (nope didn't make this one up, Person #2 merely answered when I asked.)<br /><br /><br />Whine #4: I am tired with myself already thinking why the hell wasn't I my usual inquisitive self during the assessment....<br /><br /><br /><strong>-THE END-</strong><br /><br /><br /><strong>-EPISODE 2-</strong><br /><br />Person #2 apologized to me the next day and admitted she wasn't good at managerial matters. Chill dude. I'm professional. And I expect you to be one too.<br /><br />Whine #5: you don't apologize after blatantly and intentionally bashing someone, especially after a work appraisal. GOSH!!<br /><br /><br /><strong>-THE END-</strong><br /><br /><br /><br /><strong>-EPISODE 3-</strong><br /><br />Person #2 requsted for new set of business cards early last week. I ordered 2 boxes. Today she tells me I have to design a new internal requisition form for purchases like this after I handed her the purchase order to sign. She says she might not want to order 2 boxes if she had known the price (she's ordered 2 sets before, each different than the last. 2 blocks for printing have been created for her. 1 box of card = RM35. 1 block = RM17. Hang on a minute, is she complaining over a 70 bucks worth of purchase that she instructed me to do???). Don't give me that condascending "Sometimes our memory doesn't serve us right" when you won't admit your state of mind. Do it like I do, ADMIT you're forgetful. I won't blame you for it because I know you're a busy woman.<br /><br /><br />Whine #6: why oh why did you ask me to create a monthly burn sheet if you don't check it?!?!<br /><br /><br />Whine #7: I might as well be the Admin Department and Human Resources Department on top of the Office Manager post I'm holding. Why do we want to duplicate and replicate this process when all she can do is ask the Admins for all the forms and estimations on earth when she needs to????<br /><br /><br /><strong>-THE END-</strong><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />To the bitches and man-bitches in the company with communication defficiency syndrome, fuck yourselves! I don't have to like you to do my job and vice versa. I am there to work. Not make nice. If I dropped dead y'all still work, wontcha?? Save your hypocrite selves for someone else.<br /><br /><br />Now my take on how I look: "Don't hate me coz I'm beautiful!" MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA!!!!Lynnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06866508941503917590noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365480959456846610.post-47790860359834633692008-10-21T10:00:00.002+08:002008-10-21T10:04:42.193+08:00Say A Little Prayer<span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;"><span style="color:#990000;"><strong>God, grant me the Serenity to accept the things I cannot change, Courage to change the things I can, and Wisdom to know the difference</strong>.</span></span>Lynnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06866508941503917590noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365480959456846610.post-36380450970169155732008-10-17T10:59:00.004+08:002008-10-17T11:06:59.010+08:00Bonus Post<div>OK, let's kill two birds with a stone. Peeps, here's a proof to assure you I'm well and okay, kicking and alive, and trying too hard to look as cheery as possible at work today. Don't regret you asked, teeheeee....</div><br /><div></div><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5257953497179775218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiriewc7pJWl55BTPgLqKh9CsaSuL3nz6tAj2EG6Xc8EoGm5l952SuhFlVF9NJmLVmYRSAD2KpvTiXH5IxsxhgO3OxX4N_StPzCZEd7HSKpJCMDXPOS4UCKxMim9tQ9Wt8-MEUUejG0550/s320/DSCN3317.JPG" border="0" /></div>Lynnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06866508941503917590noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365480959456846610.post-47077602111881304372008-10-17T08:37:00.007+08:002008-10-17T10:39:37.629+08:00The Fantastic FourThis feels like homecoming... it almost feels as if I've just been teleported to a time in my past where I did all I felt like doing, when I desired. No pressure. No guilt.<br /><br />I'm sorry for the absence, I just lost that loving feeling, I felt like I couldn't/wouldn't write ever again for enormous reasons - mainly based on laziness which was based on sucky work life responsible for making me cry my eyes out (the sucky person at work finally left to another place, I'm more at peace nowadays). I appreciate those lovely comments encouraging I should continue and that I am missed, let me assure you readers (errrr.... if I still have any!) I miss you all tremendously too. Never once did I not check your blogs, I'm very updated in that sense - I'm the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Invisible_Woman" target="_blank">invisible woman</a> lurking in your space, I will, though, appear sometimes too, and when I do I leave traces of me and usually not long after that I get a visitor knocking at the door and leaving lovely messages in return.... LOVE you all, my peeps!<br /><br />For those that have been waiting, please drop a note to a <a href="http://labeletterouge.blogspot.com/2008/10/behavior-and-habits-of-musteladae.html" target="_blank">lovely person </a>known to me as Ruby, her weaselly trick succeeded in getting me back to bloggin'. The exclusive use of this gem type name is given by her to ONLY yours sincerely, <em>merci beaucoup Belette. Je t'aime!</em><br /><br />Now I'm sure the title of this post is most significant for the the <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0120667/" target="_blank">movie</a> based on the comic and cartoon. I watched it as a kid, and the adult me who watched the movie only wish that I could be a fraction of the <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0004695/" target="_blank">lady cast </a>in her real life. What it is actually, is the thing that brought me here. I'm playing the "Four Tag"!<br /><br />So here they are....<br /><br />1. Four places that I go to over and over:<br />- To my kitchen<br />- To my bedroom, to my bed<br />- To the bathroom<br />- To my cubicle in the office<br /><br />2. Four people who e-mail me regularly:<br />- <a href="http://www.gilt.com/" target="_blank">Gilt Groupe</a> bringing me all designer stuff for a discount that I can never buy as my credit card billing address is not in the States. Yes, I torture myself.<br /><br />- <a href="http://www.elle.com/" target="_blank">Elle.com</a> to make sure I get to learn new tricks of the trade, see new trends of the season, follow those that I can afford, and torture myself further.<br /><br />- <a href="http://www.jcrew.com/" target="_blank">J Crew</a>, for the same reasons as above.<br /><br />- <a href="http://www.realage.com/" target="_blank">RealAge</a> to remind me that registering my email with them is the sanest thing I've done in my whole life. My momma's proud I did this, ;)<br /><br />3. Four places I would rather be right now:<br />- Paris<br />- The Greek islands<br />- NYC<br />- Home (since I'm now in the office)<br /><br />4. Four of my favorite places to eat:<br />(this is tough, now that my parents are with me five days of the week, I eat in most of the time)<br />- Home (my momma's the best cook ever!)<br />- Pizza Uno<br />- Alexis Bistro and Cafe<br />- Chili's (more often than not this is the last reasort kinda place)<br /><br />5. Four TV shows I watch over and over:<br />(I'm not a big TV fan, but I do indulge once in a while)<br />- Heroes<br />- The Tudors<br />- Jamie Oliver's series (Oliver's Twist, The Naked Chef, Jamie's School Dinners, Jamie's Great Italian Escape etc etc etc)<br />- Friends (I will never get tired watching the reruns)<br /><br />Which brings us to the finale, four people I'm tagging. I wasn't really the good girl in school, best known for my ability of bending rules and getting away with it like a champion. I'll let my readers choose to play this fun games - for most of you working in the office, hey let's face it, it's almost weekend, and work is plain B.O.R.I.N.G. Do this, it guarantees you at least half an hour of dreaming pleasure!<br /><br />I'll see you soon (fingers crossed...).Lynnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06866508941503917590noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365480959456846610.post-32876166566945518602008-04-18T22:46:00.005+08:002008-04-18T23:46:40.433+08:001, 2, 34...<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0neZ40fKPoL-0kSL24zDecizXlmKjBNvUMED6KCQ7DQlVnyWYcPHsVdrIOD58lZdpdipbG5jwNa8YkZ2B9purn7lOX3rjUjiCsDwuwLkQZml60vAknMiDvcaX6-pEwfc7t6gjI1Cuu3k/s1600-h/DSCN2684.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5190604457711334946" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0neZ40fKPoL-0kSL24zDecizXlmKjBNvUMED6KCQ7DQlVnyWYcPHsVdrIOD58lZdpdipbG5jwNa8YkZ2B9purn7lOX3rjUjiCsDwuwLkQZml60vAknMiDvcaX6-pEwfc7t6gjI1Cuu3k/s320/DSCN2684.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><em>One two, buckle my shoe</em></div><br /><div><em>Three four shut the door</em></div><br /><div><em>.... .... .... .... ..........</em></div><br /><div></div><br /><div>So it feels like.... Two days ago it was that day women dread every year, the day when you feel like the world labels you err, old (I'm quite afraid of that word, but more afraid of the fact that I don't feel it at all!). I've prayed from maybe a couple of months ago for it to be like any other, and wanting it to be as low key as possible until for the first time in my life I found out my boss and I share the same B-Day. This is the first time I ever met someone who I can share this sort of special day with. That's us about to dig into our Fruit Meringue. So I turned 34 and my boss, lets just say he turned older than last year. No need for him to be wiser, I'm sure he already is!</div><div></div><div> </div><div>That night I had dinner with my family, parents and brother, I haven't done this in ages since all of us live in different states and my birthday over the last couple of years fell on weekdays. Until this year that is. The year that took unexpected turn. What a lovely day and night I had.</div><div></div><div> </div><div>Thanks to all who've taken the time calling, writing and sending me birthday wishes, this year tops it as the year with the most wishes, woohooo!!! And thanks for the gifts too - the most unexpected one of all being from our HR hehehe...</div><div></div><div></div>Lynnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06866508941503917590noreply@blogger.com26tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365480959456846610.post-49023995547124244052008-04-04T21:11:00.007+08:002008-04-04T22:47:42.881+08:00In Her Shoes<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZqy0-2a4JRc-AmBamErshGG4LCsd-whmdnNeb7SfcYomcE9pXdKukvGUdWuDgSoFl4uT16PdwGhfqn82V0S1mhiYRx8JtWl1lPSXBUriPLzDxSUx79MjWqZtvfvPPzD5NErzl-R5ncuY/s1600-h/walklavtc162.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185381840374092802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZqy0-2a4JRc-AmBamErshGG4LCsd-whmdnNeb7SfcYomcE9pXdKukvGUdWuDgSoFl4uT16PdwGhfqn82V0S1mhiYRx8JtWl1lPSXBUriPLzDxSUx79MjWqZtvfvPPzD5NErzl-R5ncuY/s400/walklavtc162.jpg" border="0" /></a>When I saw <a href="http://www.walkamileinhershoes.org/#PutYourself" target="_blank">this</a> in the news tonight my heart just soared. Definitely for a good cause and I'd encourage anyone in that area to sign up (too bad I don't know any, so for you peeps who happen to be there, please do participate). I'm all for women's rights and the whole nine yards, and when it becomes as fun and fashionable like this, hey I get excited! Look at these guys, how cute is that?<br /><br />Since I'm nowhere near to join in, I pledge my men to walk in heels and take their pics while doing it, I hope my dear husband and kid will walk in my too-tight-for-him and too-big-for-him shoes and support me. If they think I'm nuts then at least they'll know the length I go to look good! I bet it'll teach them a thing or two about keeping good posture.<br /><br /><div>For more news on Walk A Mile In Her Shoes, click <a href="http://www.lubbockonline.com/stories/031508/liv_258025432.shtml" target="_blank">here</a> and <a href="http://www.hardnewscafe.usu.edu/artlife/features/040308_saavi.html" target="_blank">here</a>.</div><br /><div></div><div>In a different development, the gorgeous WendyB did wonderful <a href="http://wbjewelry.blogspot.com/search/label/shoes" target="_blank">posts</a> on shoes, her lovely collection and those that she tried on and took pics of. Check out the Miu Miu Tea Cup Pumps, I've fallen in love with the red ones the first time I saw them last month. Vivid imaginations of me as Alice having tea with Madhatter flashed through my mind just looking at <a href="http://www.saksfifthavenue.com/main/ProductDetail.jsp?PRODUCT%3C%3Eprd_id=845524446184809&FOLDER%3C%3Efolder_id=282574492709548&ASSORTMENT%3C%3East_id=1408474399545537ev19=1:8&siteID=C56Oo_T4pHo-Kp4FRbi_2JdopghMb6ZCqQ" target="_blank">these beauties</a>... And the brown leather Alaias, they give me the heart palpitation....</div><br /><div></div><div>If you still hadn't noticed, this post is on shoes and will be all about shoes, please bear with me, no I'm not done yet. Gracious, kind and lovely friend, <a href="http://labeletterouge.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Ruby</a>, also managed to turn my world upside down a few days ago. If I hadn't the pressing need to get to work I swear I'd never have been sorted out. Look at her <a href="http://labeletterouge.blogspot.com/2008/03/walking-in-paris-now-thats-shoe-of.html" target="_blank">cute purchase</a>. I wish I could get away wearing flats to work, hang on let me re-phrase it - I wish I was 5' 9" to be able to wear flats to work everyday. Being 5' 2" won't get you noticed if you were to walk this wonderful earth in flats all the time. Ruby is a lucky girl, for being tall and for her recent purchase that will walk Paris this summer. You go, girl!</div><br /><div></div><div>OK peeps, I need to go look for those shoes to fit two pairs of feet into, I have my own worthy cause teeheeheeee....!</div><div> </div>Lynnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06866508941503917590noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365480959456846610.post-60335797156520109002008-03-06T01:54:00.007+08:002008-03-06T02:20:15.148+08:00I'm the queen bee<div align="center"></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ6_k7yVMleHjCOpd8_nTkKglTQzyzYVINQXsAVjy9LQU1rqKsSvON-l9Ga8iHLMoYyyqTZVpKdhiDDBjlEFuncFTMwqaLF2xyo7d2O7W10564IX1tY44q7Uk8SFYzOlMvmlr0VZom8Gg/s1600-h/Aiyoh!.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174319687025712114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ6_k7yVMleHjCOpd8_nTkKglTQzyzYVINQXsAVjy9LQU1rqKsSvON-l9Ga8iHLMoYyyqTZVpKdhiDDBjlEFuncFTMwqaLF2xyo7d2O7W10564IX1tY44q7Uk8SFYzOlMvmlr0VZom8Gg/s400/Aiyoh!.jpg" border="0" /></a><strong><em><span style="font-size:85%;color:#ff0000;"> Oh noes!</span></em></strong></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">The person responsible for taking me off the blog scene all this while.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">Pic by nadio</span></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174320352745643010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-OI0hobjJ1pVjVNJgnPAq4HDn0VXmbMChFkvJsAJ64_YjoTkLKZO4yFyzitzs0gUQWfGbYF4kuEzqVgfp0VkDfP30z3chrf1jOA-2y7FNUwYHfNzTRoOj0XIRRuSyjO5xLLtGjF384BA/s400/and+he+floats!.jpg" border="0" /> <div align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Goodness gracious, he's a handful!</span></em></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">Pic by nadio</span></div><p><br /><br /><br /></p><p align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5174321654120733730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdowPXvV0jLl72WoHFdtk3nJONwTkIEPFhysXCGAExXQpS0NzsxUz48DfFC-JRQ40uc3WSwVqzFd7s6Z73vm3Vu6hamyC2eIe4cERanFYh9sAqo6B4z3mvN-p3zEa2SqTaf6uwxYPC7d0/s400/DSCN2074.JPG" border="0" /> <span style="font-size:85%;">His <strong><em><span style="color:#ff0000;">I'm-so-cute-you'll-forgive-me</span></em></strong> pose.</span></p><p>I need to cool off, really!<br /><br />(Thanks for all the love, peeps!) </p>Lynnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06866508941503917590noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365480959456846610.post-34007688459739061972008-01-30T23:47:00.000+08:002008-01-31T00:00:10.653+08:00Award and RomanceLadies and gentlemen, I'm thrilled to announce that on January 28th, my humble blog was presented with the "You Make My Day Award" by gorgeous peeps from Atlanta GA, <a href="http://asiancajuns.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">AsianCajuns</a>. Thanks, Catherine and Lauren! Woohoo! The first one ever!<br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161223489509747682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU-RqRWO_x2H_F4sxDRG2SkCsn-GLwCmrEiChe8A67pbdqa8286mN7U3rZ1WiLWNZOldO_m6fOwd3AdVgOmW5_KBZiDjiZzEFnlRtDM30m_Zwfe174nUjli64JSM3VlFzRU7TcEcplaMU/s400/u%252Bmake%252Bmy%252Bday.jpg" border="0" />This is how it works. I have to pass on this award to 10 people whose blogs bring me happiness and inspiration and make me feel happy about blogland. Comments shall be left on their blogs so they can pass it on. This is what the sweetums had to say about me:</p><p><span style="color:#000099;"><a href="http://asiancajuns.blogspot.com/2008/01/you-make-my-day.html" target="_blank">Heart and Soul: For living it up in Malaysia with style.</a></span></p><p>OK, when I started this blog in August last year, I started off fulfilling my own promise that I'd start to write and/or let my thoughts be known. Prior to that, and oh so typical of me, it was just an idea I'd stored at the back of my head which wagged and nagged for a year. I didn't categorize my blog and decided that I'd write about anything that strikes my fancy. I do love fashion and lifestyle, so maybe a good chunk of this blog consist of them. HOWEVER, I'm not an expert on those two subjects, and I purposely don't pose for photos in full glory (of fashion sense) as I want to leave that to others who do it so much better. Let's just say I'll let my closet and its contents to my own torturous view. So let's get a move on...</p><p>Tomorrow's the last day of <em>Janvier</em>. I generally hate this month because things seem to take a backseat, but anyhow, I'll welcome <em>Fevrier</em> with open arms. It's my parents' wedding anniversary, so this month holds dear to my heart. February 10th 1972 was the day my dearest mom accepted my dad to be his life companion. Ahhh... that young bride... I'd have loved to post a pic or two of her looking so chic in three different gowns, each complete with three different length gloves. I remember cheekily making fun of that but my dad was very defensive of her bride. Ouch! Anyways, my parents live in a different state, so I've no access to their wedding pictures.</p><p>And the icing on top of the cake, for the lovebirds, women and men alike, Valentine's Day. My husband and I don't celebrate it as we believe that love should be celebrated everyday but I do love watching other couples this day. The only thing I hate about this day is how commercialized it has become, dinner becomes ridiculously pricey and man, the price for a stalk of rose skyrockets to 20 bucks? Sheesh! Thank goodness I'm a lily girl, which doesn't help either as flowers generally become too expensive for the week of Valentine's. So thankfully, I don't celebrate.</p><p>It's fantastic, huh? Yeah, for people IN love, that is! For those, er, luckier ones with more liberty, what are you doing on Valentine's Day? Turn your cheeks away on <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Public_display_of_affection" target="_blank">PDA</a> (yes that PDA, not your cellphone for goodness sakes), roll your eyes at yet another couple doe-eyed and cooing into each others ears? No, you don't, you let them be or you curse under your breath! Here's an idea, group your girlfriends for a round of clothes swapping! </p><p><embed name="flashObj" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/shockwave/download/index.cgi?P1_Prod_Version=" src="http://services.brightcove.com/services/viewer/federated_f8/1369783177" width="486" height="412" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" bgcolor="#FFFFFF" flashvars="videoId=1332212291&playerId=1369783177&viewerSecureGatewayURL=https://services.brightcove.com/services/amfgateway&servicesURL=http://services.brightcove.com/services&cdnURL=http://admin.brightcove.com&domain=embed&autoStart=false&" base="http://admin.brightcove.com" seamlesstabbing="false" swliveconnect="true"></embed></p><p>Now that's what I call satisfaction!</p><p>But I just have to share this with y'all. Truely, utterly, absolutely <em>romantique</em>.</p><p></p><p><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/sTw4CTZzz9Q&rel=" width="425" height="355" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"></embed></p><p>Awww....</p><p>Cherish love forever, guys. </p><p>As for the award, I've decided to do it in stages, tonight it'll be:</p><p><a href="http://wbjewelry.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">WendyB</a></p><p><a href="http://labeletterouge.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">La Bellette Rouge</a> </p><p><em>A tout a l'heur, mon amis!</em><br /></p>Lynnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06866508941503917590noreply@blogger.com25tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365480959456846610.post-87411869353640375812008-01-28T02:24:00.000+08:002008-01-28T02:25:03.821+08:00No No No! Yes Yes YES!!Oh Johny, I love you with all my heart, you taught me how to sing (<a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0077631/" target="_blank">Grease</a>) and you also taught me how to groove (<a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0076666/" target="_blank">Saturday Night Fever</a>), but what did your stylist talk you into? <div><div><div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5160214498612702146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIlYMwH6l3KYTlTwhd8WC9O5PbbNWjmJJ4hsx4gvIVoqnpt5FkZGdknhPcmqeXdGoy0v9_IELeVcxG-9fjTaeCumh_Ov9fWJC6Pinek_UwnQqeo5YlgC4X5oaerXelT4GIFcDOJ7I74z8/s400/john_travolta_1734226.jpg" border="0" /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5160215254526946258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2JWf5B3F0iIpQCgsrN_fnzdbdR0Y0GHRCZvGkiBgSdB1S_d8W-8bFO2_gBsuWrNGqGypcIySLWS3DbdY9PxHg3gjNNwQdO34ladYnae0jBkFTKuA3xlL8ILtRSXkJJKtS6xz1P_kXrcE/s400/john_travolta_5078555.jpg" border="0" /><br /><p>I'm no expert in hair fashion and all, but this one, me no likey. Widow's peak and poufed up bangs ain't the way to go. Having them in bird wing shape ain't the way of confessing your love for aviation either, hun. Kelly must've really liked this one on you... Sigh...</p><p>Please don't get me wrong, I love this guy, really, I've said that already, haven't I? I discovered Grease when I was maybe 5, found a cassette of the movie's soundtrack which led me to Olivia Newton-John and 70's fashion. The love continued till I was 8 when my parents finally allowed me to watch Saturday Night Fever. It was 1982, and man, was I groovin'. Dug your white suit, dear, even when the world in the 80's criticized 70's fashion and by that your white ensemble was the point of reference. Now go do yourself a favor and have your hair close cropped again.</p><p>No, no, no.</p><p>But peeps, this next one is dedicated to <a href="http://wbjewelry.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">WendyB</a> and her love for butt bows. Wendy, may I just say that <a href="http://wbjewelry.blogspot.com/2007/09/bringing-butt-bows-back.html" target="_blank">you wear it much better</a>! </p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5160213935971986354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWxOFrCtluKCTn-dazigd2eHvrDZRzbkl4Lwy2p8NCaDVNGF_DTe6Onnkeec_B1EG0ikQI1Vif-HH4wWvNQgLZQRxcM8PiR7fKzxRqMgNtAI1GD9AMwn4OWtHUzoTnKyIR6B2zeJhI2tc/s400/kylie_minogue_5080558.jpg" border="0" /></p></div></div></div><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5160213588079635362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAAvNS6oUraoTFSq5X-K130n8yJGnTSr4ILHvtVQJvqaywETPLlmzHBvpFh7nH_-lCrTMffs-qDyBalCBGooFK8joPK13Da7Y_YpDqRU5Q2rKK0QaqYe_9ePjNroayHsi1dQ7uquR5spg/s400/kylie_minogue_5080559.jpg" border="0" /></p><p>And screw Google for <a href="http://wendyhatesblogger.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">what they have done to your blog</a>. I MISS YOU. You hear that LIVE people at Google? Bring Sexywendy back! <a href="http://www.amazon.com/FutureSex-LoveSounds-Justin-Timberlake/dp/B000H305U0" target="_blank">JT</a> would agree hands down.</p>Lynnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06866508941503917590noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365480959456846610.post-64188320576241327682008-01-21T00:01:00.000+08:002008-01-21T01:49:28.031+08:00My Saturday in Melaka<div align="left">We decided to head down to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Malacca" target="_blank">Melaka</a> on Saturday so the three of us with a couple of friends got into a minivan and had a blast. No itinerary, just a fun, laidback evening. First stop, Kampung Morten for <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nasi_lemak" target="_blank">nasi lemak</a> wrapped in banana leaf. My girlfriend said it was good but I didn't know it was that good. Mmm mmmm delish. Then we hit another area for seafood. The best! Both in taste and price. We had prawns, stingray and deep fried calamari. I drank coconut juice - from the fruit. No pics peeps, you guys should know me by now, where there's food everything else is secondary! Oh before I forget, just before reaching the seafood place, we found this signboard where I just had to have a picture of. Roy got out while we laughed our behinds off...</div><div align="center"><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157598609548281842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitrkg8l4X4v9F2Y7wg-CC18fvHCgFYwYXIM8-gPdyHpignUDSXawJJ2ImaFZub9i3VnQdDQuGvTqdQ0OShaGoFc3rttSROV1mSI489y-MWAQ6inzsRu6aVjtKBWDRqAhdlbEsnELv7bnM/s400/DSCN2612.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"><strong>Translation: Cows not permitted. Private property.<br /></strong></span><br /></p><p>Duhh. Cows everywhere, this is the importance of going to school. Now look where the head of the herd had brought you to. At least the cows in Melaka are bright enough to tell (read???) where their presence is not appreciated.</p><p>Whoever came up with this idea, we wonder which school you went to?</p><p>Right after dinner we headed straight for the town to Jonker Street. Major night market every Friday and Saturday night and the street is transformed to Jonker Walk. During the day it's where you get antiques, gemstones and just about everything and it's also where you find the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Peranakan" target="_blank">Peranakan</a> Museum. This is where the life is in this historical town. I scored this hand beaded flip-flops for RM18. </p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157604184415832066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5uZqQZ1KJA6p3LyEiUIO-n412nlt9-gP8EULs_tXHVXad3EHHmWB_5viH1pSpZmavkS0KlDlBwCtY-4ppsjo_Web8C3UkjRQp4DUneo9uLNx_DE6mReAuNp4a5Tp_IFjLjns9b5fqpWA/s400/DSCN2626.JPG" border="0" /></p><br /><p>And nothing related, this is how I look like with the shorter hairstyle.</p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157605777848698898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBFbQQ68jePy-UDStvSj5hieJi42-L3Poh8UT2zmN9TxcVUtZsuInWbo9IaECmuJt2im_-2xWcIq336_gvZ2OvXYf-gv6P4zDZ27LFDCeJcMgrr60h_Kra9GNq5GBJNHBvV0dvnlrDdaA/s400/DSCN2604.JPG" border="0" /></p><p align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Picture by Sean</span></em></p><p></p>Lynnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06866508941503917590noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365480959456846610.post-3672430199743102092008-01-17T00:56:00.000+08:002008-01-17T02:12:22.418+08:00Get out of my dreams, and into my blogI decided I've had enough beauty slumber of two days and two nights and woke up this morning after <a href="http://lynnazri.blogspot.com/2008/01/tagged.html" target="_blank">dreaming</a> a sweet but painful dream. In my dream I had a walk-in closet with rows and rows of designer clothes, jewelry and stackful of shoes and handbags. Colors of all sorts. Names of all brands. Sizes and shapes of all kinds. And to my bewilderment <a href="http://asiancajuns.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">AsianCajuns</a>, <a href="http://vintagebunny.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Vintage Bunny</a>, <a href="http://mahalofashion.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Jen</a>, <a href="http://wendiva.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Wendiva</a>, <a href="http://wineglasslogistics.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Elisabeth</a> and <a href="http://bymissann.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Miss Ann</a> appeared out of nowhere and took my handbags away!!! I awoke with the sinking feeling of loss. A loss of something I never owned.<br /><br />My six beautiful deserving peeps, you're tagged. Now aren't you sorry you appeared in my dream?!?<br /><br />AsianCajuns: Because you have so many wonderful clothes and bags.<br />Vintage Bunny: Because I'm always amazed at how one manages to find bags of 99 cents, and gorgeous ones too!<br />Jen: For having FINE taste in almost everything. Need I say more?<br />Wendiva: I'm jealous of your past life and the life you're leading now. Wonder what's in the bag you carry with you to the hospital?<br />Elisabeth: So when you get back into the office from your <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vacation" target="_blank">vacay</a> you'd have something better to do.<br />Miss Ann: Errmm... because you travel on a private jet? I wish I was in your bag!Lynnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06866508941503917590noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365480959456846610.post-2206835818277573032008-01-14T23:49:00.000+08:002008-01-15T02:14:36.597+08:00TaggedSo I've been <a href="http://wbjewelry.blogspot.com/2008/01/peek-into-my-prada.html" target="_blank">tagged</a> recently by <a href="http://wbjewelry.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">WendyB</a>. She says I need to post more often anyway, so. The theme is "Name six things in my handbag". Now I'll confess that while I'm not the typical girl who carries tissue paper in her purse, I do change my handbags quite often, and have been in trouble a few times for doing so a couple of time. I'm digressing.... OK, so let's base this tagged thing on<em> mon sac du jour. </em>It's my <a href="http://www.edesignershop.net/ProductDetails.asp?ProductCode=tods-new-miky-baby-blue&click=71" target="_blank">small New Miky JP Tod's</a> (mine's a different color though). Skoopid laptop has no card reader, so no pics guys, <em>desolee</em>. Not many things in it, hence the name small.<br /><br />1. My vintage <a href="http://www.lizclaiborne.com/home/index.jsp" target="_blank">Liz Claiborne</a> long wallet. Basically my whole life is in it. Cash, cards, id, driver's license, atm receipts a.k.a. junks, small pics of Roy and Sean, and a passpost photo of myself taken while I was expecting Sean that I'd be furious if I ever lose it. This was the time when "glowing radiance" was so applicable. Hey, there's nothing wrong with holding on to something good. Aaahhh and yes, tucked in one of the compartments, Roy's proclamation of his love for me from 12 years ago written on a piece of white A4 paper which were passed to me while we were in the university library (supposedly studying....??).<br /><br />2. A leather <a href="http://www.swarovski.com/is-bin/INTERSHOP.enfinity/WFS/SCO-Web_AU-Site/en_US/-/AUD/SW_BrowseCatalog-Start?CategoryName=010302" target="_blank">Swarovski</a> card holder. If you're card's in it you're my VIP. The Coffee Bean Card's in it too, in case I lose my wallet, I'll still get to calm my nerves with coffee till the card runs out of credit.<br /><br />3. Visine Redness Reliever eye drops. I'm all about the color red, but this is one color that I'm not so proud to show off if it appears anywhere on my face, so I depend on the eye drops. I read somewhere that it gets rid the angry zit of its color. Since I'm <a href="http://lynnazri.blogspot.com/2007/10/mommy-how-old-are-you-again.html" target="_blank">16</a> and still popping all over, this is THE thing to stay in the bag all the time.<br /><br /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155390459487225794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiacfHkLhZYGlf_bNhHgpAZOwIrNUH1GM2Mp3NUElYA4_0y8Etydici-_xExifrAKBBTlWIBX8wo1y48rgsnYCjnxbqPhy4osGrbqaAcjKiU8S83zCbwoBbMO8Z-W2mWEo7myx6nSFvzdA/s400/Visine.jpg" border="0" /><br />4. Elizabeth Arden High Shine Lip Gloss in Shimmering Pink. A girl can never go wrong with it.<br /><br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155392173179176930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvW2X4w7b1pF8fWuPElJ8DdvO5zGC4xXEPzQQTk-TWLw1jjj4Rmgw5LS1WkyYzdro5cJ5gA5C8xSqZIQXW9M5vLuyn88UFhaJinwR-eq-_T3wRHYtZWjHoBXqO-lyrQ7ZDuIm-HxDZkQ0/s400/pELIZARDEN1-3382483v250.jpg" border="0" />5. My beloved Motorazr. Yes, a Blackberry or iTouch is the thing to have now, but I stick with the Razr because of its size. Plus if anyone ever gets on my nerves I get to slash him good. Not just today in my small bag, but anytime anywhere.<br /><br /><object width="425" height="355"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/sMC1QDbpLIs&rel=1"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/sMC1QDbpLIs&rel=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"></embed></object><br /><br />6. Small change. In case my Razr decides to fly. </p><p>There you have it. Since this tagging business is an epidemic like what WendyB says and finding a victim is easy peasy breezy, I'm left with a challenge. Now who shall that other six be? Can I sleep on it first guys...?<br /></p>Lynnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06866508941503917590noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365480959456846610.post-88437040039736584782008-01-13T00:35:00.000+08:002008-01-14T23:49:06.613+08:00Speeding ticket....Guys, I deserve a ticket for zooming past my own site. I've been extremely busy, now that school has started again. It's crazy!<br /><br />Just an update, I trimmed my hair last Saturday, shorter than the first time I had it short, and I'm loving it even if Roy says it kinda looks the same! Afraid the pic'll have to wait, I'm posting on my husband's laptop and it doesn't have a card reader. Can you believe it???<br /><br />Note: I've been tagged by the fabulous <a href="http://wbjewelry.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">WendyB</a> which I'm working on. Watch out for it.Lynnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06866508941503917590noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365480959456846610.post-68382806058164328462007-12-31T16:29:00.000+08:002007-12-31T17:01:13.381+08:00Bonne Annee!! Welcome 2008!!!<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH92fhQ4GBPtqFQ6a82mm0K9uVUnDwAI_LvRvS1im7Imfy2Nl0UdRLSk2mn2qK9g_4y_dFdv56kAGQqQIud5iupPjZuHTvKgw8Hqi1XNStPLVSy__Y3AYXQKw5xVj1tLeeCrn5w2FPWeg/s1600-h/fireworks_1_bg_070404_sandiego.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150056564920972514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH92fhQ4GBPtqFQ6a82mm0K9uVUnDwAI_LvRvS1im7Imfy2Nl0UdRLSk2mn2qK9g_4y_dFdv56kAGQqQIud5iupPjZuHTvKgw8Hqi1XNStPLVSy__Y3AYXQKw5xVj1tLeeCrn5w2FPWeg/s400/fireworks_1_bg_070404_sandiego.jpg" border="0" /></a> <em><span style="font-size:85%;">Pic from </span></em><a href="http://pdphoto.org/PictureDetail.php?pg=8148" target="_blank"><em><span style="font-size:85%;">pdphoto.org</span></em></a> </div><p><br />Thanks to all of you who've made my life fabulous. Love you to bits and pieces!</p><p>Have a big banging time y'all!<br /><br />Mwahhh!<br /></p>Lynnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06866508941503917590noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365480959456846610.post-36985758338912436242007-12-26T18:54:00.000+08:002007-12-27T12:19:18.245+08:00Back from the holidays<div align="left">I'm baaaaaack! What a wonderful reunion we've had. I know I mentioned in my last post that I'd hope to post pictures of the reception. What I didn't mention was that my cousin was marrying someone from the royalty and that the king from one of the states was attending the do. So to adhere to the strict protocols, we weren't allowed to take photographs till after dinner time. Bummer... I really wanted to capture the bride and groom in action but right when it was open time all the cameras started flashing and people came from nowhere. What was the funniest is we think they were trying to capture the beeyoootiful princess who just married the Regent, well yes of course they wanted to see Erin and Shah too hah! Anyways, as there were too many people in the way the pics we took appeared blurry, and where the good images could be clearly seen what showed were just guests and more guests... Oh well, I'll wait for the soft copy then. Sorry guys! Have these instead.</div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5148238805912286242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8uQXX031Szy4JiGaOyMhfOlxBsIuo61nXORYDq_dizEQFHXKpbC3m9B5oOEE9Grz-lCQvdlvIW3fbujVaxza1psZB5lhiziz89AS4AnBuUsZ1oHCvxoua5K3dPvK553Ey5VespWae6Cw/s200/DSCN2472.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Hungry and waiting for the arrival of the Highnesses King and Queen so we could finally eat...</span></em><br /><br /></p><p align="left">After the King, Queen, Regent and Princess had left my husband managed to take these pics of the gossiping girls...</p><p align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5148309239080973378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUzxUDMacxkTYKnXGxpoNG8mWbY2RwfG0mEbYt3uDTMTyv-KxwY3ZgvFoLPKkN-_SKeHJ_P0O2yKrMJiZc_lQ4Jw0LqVFczGW1on_Siiu9nnDHPgybYUa_EBQ4VOnaDLYzuEll4aIFSN4/s200/DSCN2504.JPG" border="0" /><em>"<span style="font-size:85%;">You know this ugly stepsister actually insisted that she was prettier than you...", says the bride. "And why do you look so amused telling me that???", I was totally irked.</span></em><br /><br /><em><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5148242280540828722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQKsahH6R1SyjkuGaGLNe5Ozf01N95MfkmhcNosM_hRIikXzuYk74iw9_kHoSMTKfqFB9i3iwNY9HOmBKp3lHXCby7IzBt-lnqVvZrcTukt3q32P5gUXWvdMwLghSb1VAByAWz-jZPgJ0/s200/DSCN2505.JPG" border="0" /><span style="font-size:85%;">"No, of course I wasn't! I made sure to tell her that no one can make a man give in to her whims and wishes by a flick of her hair and a toss of her head but you and you alone!"</span></em></p><p align="center"></p><em><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5148312773839058002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvtMp-rZJwnNLeCW9u9IhwurqD7TzrhrvQvi-cs5ct0qBiHIkU67yoRdbGWFQBPiuTXwdCtvpLXsaPoTrI_2ipfhx1GInKn7zsBxNbUEg0dG-dP2sAWfJ6qvF_8czHy_m7-xix2zXUpWI/s200/DSCN2506.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center"></em><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>"Damned right I could! You'll want me body people will walk you through it!!"<br /></em></span><br /></p><p>I left that night feeling absolutely elated.... ;-p</p><p>I'm glad we managed to steal some time off of the entourage the next day and had a quiet dinner at a pleasant place called <a href="http://www.penangreview.net/restaurant-reviews/passions_of_kerala.html" target="_blank" >Passions of Kerala</a>. If ever you guys came to Penang, you should really give the place a try. Warning though, for lovers of curry dishes or adventurous first timers only. Totally worth it.</p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5148321793270379618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh6C2myI1u4APe7YMqIZwt5UgnGkdY3c5_0TtCZXyRXnvY7TdcGf8obkf954CtIF79b83ZxgtHD-Nj_2zbV2s0a74BKveEeUHP4-qyG-s46TfiQTIhNJP6tyHLgSjyypLXOJe3ZBWaBA4/s200/DSCN2514.JPG" border="0" />Lynnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06866508941503917590noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365480959456846610.post-27845554694518552312007-12-20T12:38:00.000+08:002007-12-28T16:29:28.112+08:00Selamat Hari Raya Aidil Adha (Happy Eid Ul-Adha)To my peeps, near and far, Happy Eid! It's a public holiday in Malaysia today, but many have taken long leave till Christmas, some till after the new year. I'll be around till tomorrow, then we birds will fly north to Penang. I missed my dear cousin's wedding last weekend, and her reception's due this coming Saturday there. Hopefully I'll get to post photos of the reception here.<br /><br /><br /><br /><p align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145913540683002898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbjuTD8BIo54ngPGFEpMeQk8IW3qHagp6-kQokPcVv_2THfFglik2cumzs3p-QjwlSzV9VL3gV_f9MLxp2xCFwBWRwki1BRtO5gqPn27Es0tclq1_DQ0UyCBPPIcHCChySeDVmV_SoMcM/s320/IMG_1476.JPG" border="0" /><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Selamat Pengantin Baru*, Erin</span></em></p><p>Mom and dad are around for the holiday, and like I said we, the members of The School of Birds will be flying to Penang together tomorrow. While mom's here we'll be eating good food, yay!</p>* <em><span style="font-size:85%;">A greeting in Malay, wished to newlyweds.</span></em>Lynnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06866508941503917590noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365480959456846610.post-16226338272503998852007-12-15T19:16:00.000+08:002007-12-27T12:41:36.355+08:00No reason<div align="left">Just felt like doing this as so many have called to ask what's happened to my blog and myself. Apart from going through something major in life, I also don't have much to tell. Anyways, this is to my peeps who've showed me I absolutely can't leave without y'all, just because... Oh, and I was totally inspired to post this, thanks to <a href="http://asiancajuns.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">AsianCajuns </a>Cath who put up her gorgeous pic in a <a href="http://asiancajuns.blogspot.com/2007/12/ikat-zara.html" target="_blank">lovely Ikat/Pua Kumbu dress</a>. </div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="left"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5144159613478269922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUr9cJ5nZwQ4BrT40OiqJUX2ejvToX0OQCQ9G7b6XCISA_9rezhGxEMkvdoeuhS4sJXQKREItM6qMuBmHLeKfr0prhk7vc-YplwBIqQ6xGBrOG4fNWqlui_0_DnnCqD1a9jmvwc7ot63E/s400/DSCN2446.JPG" border="0" /></div><p align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>"Happy Holidays!!!", my </em><a href="http://www.edricong.com/weave/2/index.html" target="_blank"><em>ikat fabric </em></a><em>seems to be shouting in full spirit.</em></span></p><p align="left">Peace to all.</p>Lynnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06866508941503917590noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365480959456846610.post-4769724708699922372007-11-08T00:25:00.001+08:002007-12-26T01:52:46.325+08:00Happy Birthday, Roy!<object height="355" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/xYfoj4IGrr4"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/xYfoj4IGrr4" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="355"></embed></object><br /><br />Roy = Roi = King<br /><br />So, au roi de mon coeur, bonne anniversaire! (Hun, it means, "To the king of my heart, happy birthday!").<br /><br /><br /><p align="left">Heck, even Kennedy wasn't a king...... and you are definitely one, even if it's just by your given name! :-D.</p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5130299819540115522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs-bGy8Z2V1EHPZO_cCUI-tzO1v_BlufxKpAanjRLg8Ld5_IumXdR9pUcSWlzBj_nNLe-IobaTzDYznKtsO4DzWm42JX5rbq6vLyEsAmBgQqMa8slcuiTJmSt5WDVDtIppn9TNvCqWLQI/s400/DSCN2088.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center"><em><strong><span style="font-size:85%;">Sean, Roy and yours truly, so happy together... la la la la la la....</span></strong></em></p><p align="left"><strong><em><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></em></strong></p>Lynnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06866508941503917590noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365480959456846610.post-6439316004281714232007-10-23T00:04:00.000+08:002007-10-23T00:22:10.773+08:00Mommy, how old are you again?Our recent MotoGP at the MScape VIP Village requires the patrons to be at least 18, since it's backed by the tobacco giant brand Marlboro. A legal age meeting point of some sort. Since we were there for two days we had to leave our 7 year old behind at my brother's, he very much knows he's under the age limit.<br /><br />Today after lunch and seeing all the cool stuff in the goodie bags, we had this conversation:<br /><br />7 y.o.: Mommy, you said I couldn't go because I'm seven.<br />Me: Uhum..<br />7 y.o.: Only 18?<br />Me: Right. 18 and older.<br />7 y.o.: 16?<br />Me: No sweetie, only 18 and above.<br />7 y.o.: Daddy could go because he's 50, right?<br />Me: (Grinning) Heh, right.<br />7 y.o.: Then how come you went? You're only 16...?<br />Me: Ooopsss.....<br /><br />Honest to God I didn't teach him my age, or even my husband's! He made it all up by himself. what I find so flattering is now biting me in my own a@#...Lynnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06866508941503917590noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365480959456846610.post-52113642476319599572007-10-21T22:03:00.000+08:002007-12-27T12:27:39.030+08:00Polini Malaysian MotoGP 2007 part 2<div align="left">Day 2 of bike racing. My ears still hurt from the noise at the starting line, thanks for leaving the darn ear plugs behind and not taking new ones just before leaving the suite. Had real fun with both the <a href="http://www.ducati.com/" target="_blank">Ducati Team </a>riders (<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Loris_Capirossi" target="_blank" >Loris Capirossi </a>and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Casey_Stoner" target="_blank" >Casey Stoner</a>) spending some time at the suite while being interviewed by <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Randy_Mamola" target="_blank" >Randy Mamola</a> and later giving away two signed helmets to more lucky devils. If you still remember, I mentioned in my last post about the <a href="http://lynnazri.blogspot.com/2007/10/polini-malaysian-motogp-2007.html" target="_blank" >double session</a>. Randy's the rider of the two seater bike, World Champion Motorcycle Racer Hall of Famer and a living legend in motor racing world. </div><div align="center"><br /></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123795853279676946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWfdznX_1GESGxcpz9m0dps1LhnBZ_H4_LTE4JEQntPM5NMk9z42T231Qatugz6UbLZqE79KbhABsO8810MRGpRxlMY5_TGCUvjZ2AkxepFZwr46_kAWtLy0lCFX4YEYMCRjeY3DJShYg/s320/DSCN2328.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>(L-R) Loris Capirossi, Randy Mamola and Casey Stoner.</em></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br /></p><p align="left">The race officially started off with the 125cc category, then 250cc and finally the 500cc where both Capirossi and Stoner were in. While Capirossi doesn't need any mentioning, Stoner is one full of surprises and created the most buzz lately. Just 22 and already a World Champion.</p><p align="left">My number 42 didn't bring me any luck today, again... In ANY of the countless lucky draws - not even once. Not an interesting subject to elaborate, so moving on...</p><p align="left">However though, I did taste luck for about two hours until it was blown away. I approached Randy for an autograph, and he gave one on my cap. I was among the only four in the room to get his signature on our caps (my husband Roy, Nadd and a random guy being the other three). Soon after, we went to the rooftop to see the race start, and a gigantic <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/nadio/1671885899/" target="_blank" >bird</a> was hovering above us to catch her namesake's eye view of the moment.</p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123811237852531266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdIYVFNlWWtX69143aS1FPkd9PI5FXAnKjDPIL6e3Q6dZcLcrCfS7gY9EzQJy43isvvO5JbeaKimkFhyphenhyphenMUy2R0fv-PPm1_J9gZ-D41YKmLdBwA9kk-5fmMxaFbEcKTGC7-eDHGCuPD-qk/s400/MotoGP+photostrip.bmp" border="0" /> <p align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;">(L-R) Giant bird; Excited people waving; Last few moments of luck.<br /></span></em><br /></p><p align="left">Scorching hot day, bird gives off nice cooling wind, human real pleased, thanked bird by waving like crazy, UNTIL my cap was blown away and knicked by I-don't-know-who!!! Nadd said she saw who took it but her voice wasn't heard over the loud noise of the hovering bird. It all happened so fast. Hers stayed on, my husband's cap I managed to catch but mine was isk isk... That killed my mood and left me absolutely deflated. I hope for the person who selfishly knicked it to lose it in his drunken stupor. Yep he left his half-full wine glass in change for my Randy cap. </p><p align="left">Oh well, at least we still have Roy's cap, thank God.</p><p align="left">Nevertheless, I'm still glad Casey Stoner won the race. A wonderful birthday gift for a fine guy who celebrated his birthday last Tuesday.</p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123820184269408850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhquca-kMT9N38BKNI4UlcYT1gLGRYdPb1ex-zfF9FGv7e6Y9BKxy-KYxeKTMnK6H-mCqETUV1XQCEj0l672fbEQMztfWKuTa24_iOWMexMnuCGRIpgnBfvEYQf938qQBWu1k3BrllbNJs/s400/Stoner+Champion.jpg" border="0" /> <p align="center"><em>Pic taken from Casey's </em><a href="http://www.caseystoner.com.au/details.php?item=138" target="_blank" ><em>website</em></a><em>.</em></p><p align="left">I'm off now to enjoy all the official merchandise that came with the race day pass. Hurray, at least...</p><p align="left"></span></p>Lynnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06866508941503917590noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2365480959456846610.post-54486956675502217342007-10-21T00:22:00.000+08:002007-10-21T01:27:56.962+08:00Polini Malaysian MotoGP 2007<div align="left">I had a great time today. What started out as a winning competition for Nadd (that only Nadd won) ended with gifts for her, me and my husband! Hahaha, I must say connection does take you a long, long way. Anyways, today is the qualifying race with Dani Pedrosa, Casey Stoner and Marco Melandri securing the top three spots for the race tomorrow. Prior to the race, we hung out at the VIP Village enjoying the abundance of drinks and good music. Heaps of MP3 Players were given out during the lucky draw session, unfortunately I wasn't one of the lucky ones. My number 92 wasn't a favourite with the lotto number spinning machine :-P. Ah well, better luck tomorrow (yes, we got passes for two days).</div><br /><br /><div align="center"></div>Then it was time for the Pit Lane Walk where I almost totally lost my mind watching 9 lucky people doing the double on the track. Holy Molly!<br /><br /><div align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123461507255552466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv33yrHa2uYNWykhPAEB0-nMnev-4eSTO0W1OfR7-ozM8saBb5wWlx74ZSXDkz2I8fgcmapE2koNq-0o6lvHVVAXGSEHHuJlV5qlZo-V9b19YJp8KOMUGcCb64FBedryuskzx9B0qd3zk/s400/double.JPG" border="0" /></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>Lucky devil at the start of the "double" session. Yup, they start off with a wheelie.</em></span></div><div align="center"><br /></div><p align="left">I've been harboring hopes and dreams for this, but apparently the 9 guys were pre selected by the organizer based on unknown criteria to us. I swear my heart dropped into my stomach the second I caught sight of them passing right before me.</p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123464646876645874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPxRFkW46bdhclgFUtJieKCDGRJHZcyonncd5kMJS5L9t9kn3vLXb-3iPKCjQPOI46iCyc7PlqIXjgUHjwOV6Dn43fwEy5qTj5jnwCZr5aGpOsnGKU6JyFL5niLE5TMp_ECz2Gw9UKkQ0/s320/DSCN2285.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center"> <span style="font-size:85%;"><em>Crazy jellus woman by the side of the track. Shooed by race officials coming from her right. Grrrr..!<br /></em></span><br /></p><p align="left">Having worked here a few times before I know that the side platform is a no-go zone, but I was too jealous to care. I just leapt up to see what else was being shoved to my face by the evil organizer. Talk about going 300km/h on a bike. Of course you'll just be the pillion rider but who cares? That's the closest that any Tom, Dick and Harry will ever get to racing on a bike. </p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123468173044795906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPse-Hv-WeR9hVG4TwiH1XHWxKhFJiBEwE3y4VjsyFYbEe3L805i7yfL8nDx0hfXPTrhZC4ecd0o5NuIWWiNO_QINZNcminPtiTQOhn6R3zV8jvZXeGbvU5oUBQ8jJiZhdd6plNkdlXnE/s320/mamat2+salleh..JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center"><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Crazy jellus woman and track officials made up. Before they shooed her off again, hmmphh!</span></em></p><p align="left">Anyone who knows me would definitely know how crazy I can be. So I'm gonna take this crazy self to rest for a while before starting again in the morning on a whole new session. A demain mes amis!</p><p align="left"> </p>Lynnhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06866508941503917590noreply@blogger.com3