Paranoia Hits

Has it been nearly one week since I’ve last blogged? Well, well. So much for my promise to keep blogging as often as I can. So what happened since I’ve last blogged?

Honestly not much. I’ve started sending out the invitation cards, and my poor father, who is very, very paranoid, the one where I’m quite sure have genetically inherited his paranoia, is quite certain that OMG! NO ONE IS ATTENDING!!! OH NOES!! based on the RSVP count. I’m not panicking…yet,because we have ages to go till the deadline, and then it would be up to everyone to call and confirm.

The thing is, if I allow myself to panic about it, I think I definitely will. I won’t because right now, I’m mostly spent panicking about…

The house.

Because Eizwan and I are mad enough to want to move out and live on our own immediately after our wedding, the past few weeks have been dedicated to hunting a house. I am a real fusspot, and I know exactly what I want and what I don’t want. Aha…considering our limited means, this is certainly not and easy task.

So, we’re talking dealing with real estate agents, going to housing estates during our free time, calling them during our free time, arguing because I’m becoming paranoid. Paranoid that I can’t find a house on time, paranoid I can’t make ends meet. I think as the wedding draws closer, I become extremely paranoid.

The paranoia is terrible because it affects everything. I’m starting to worry about every single detail – from things I should not worry about. I’m not aiming for perfection, but I do know, a big part of me is anxious if people would turn and make the effort for my wedding. It’s easy to write off someone else’s wedding as “Oh, another one,” but I suppose you become so anxious and you want them to come to yours when it’s your turn. What if everything that is meticulously planned becomes horrible?

I do have plenty to update – buuut, I actually have plenty of work so it’s going to be hard to blog, plan a wedding when I have a huge writing job to finish. This writing job is really making me smile because despite the insanity and innanity of the situation (the deadline is like 4 days before the wedding) – I’m doing what I love best, writing.

Will share more soon. Just don’t quite like a non-updated blog.


What? I’m an ajumma?

Every morning, after coffee, I find that I have to put on my glasses to work. I wonder if it’s the result of too much coffee in the morning. Or rather, too much coffee in my mug that I’m shaking and trembling like *insert mild earthquake that causes no deaths, just minor injuries because I don’t have the heart to create a simile that causes destruction*

Although, I totally need coffee this morning. Towards the end of my sleep, my dreams started to veer into the very weird. I dreamt that my future mother-in-law or henceforth known as FMIL asked me to come over to her place. Eizwan was not around. She said, since I was not doing anything, I might as well help her with her business – selling stone rice bowls (bibimbap) in Putrajaya. My task was to clean the kitchen and cook while she nagged me like a banshee as I sobbed and bemoaned my fate.

I woke up and felt like a total ajumma (Korean for housewife). It suddenly occurred to me that perhaps, I’ve been watching too many Korean soaps. I only watch one soap and on TV show these days, don’t watch too much TV in general….but think this one is having an effect on me.


On other news, Eizwan and I have finally booked our hotels to our honeymoon. This is utterly awesome sauce – it’s one less issue to think about. I’m looking forward to the trip because despite my original intention (read: moaning to Eizwan endlessly) to have an adventure trip, I would be too exhausted at the end of this long marathon than do anything but read by the poolside.

So where am I going? To Bali! Rather unfashionable, I noticed amongst bloggers but I am pleased, very pleased.

I’ve posted my invitation cards, so message me if you’ve not received yours and the RSVPs are trickling in, which is quite exciting. I’ve yet to go to the doctors and some of the naysayers my friends are warning me that the last thing I want on my nikah would be to grab my inhaler in spectacular fashion just as the imam pronounces me married. “What!? Married?” Puff. Bah, I know they’re speaking the truth, I’m just too lazy to queue at the clinic that I usually go to.

I know, I know. Lungs or Patience. Why am I not bestowed with both?

And now, we’re both looking for houses. I have two lined up to look at this week but I foresee that this will be an effort all the way up to the eleventh hour – am trying not to stress out too much about it. Like David said, these are all details. Bigger picture matters more.

Hmm…43 days to go.

Doctor Who S5…so far, so meh

I think I’ve been delaying this post for awhile, giving me time to collect my thoughts and muddle through it, process it internally before spewing my guts onto my blog.

Especially since I feel guilty about it. But of course, me feeling guilty is nothing significant. It does not take much to feel guilty and aside from the usual human emotions, guilt is probably something I feel all the time.

What do I feel guilty about?

I feel guilty that I’m starting not enjoy this season of Doctor Who that much. Cut for spoilers and for um, people who do not care that much about Doctor Who. Continue reading

45 Days – Asthma attacks, oh joy.

“I’m so stressed these days. My asthma is acting up rather badly – I reckon it’s the wedding stress”

“I don’t see the reason why you should be so stressed, Adlina. You love Eizwan. He loves you. The rest are just details”

It has been an unbelievably busy week, and I foresee it will be an even busier week for the next oh, 46 days or so. I can just see it now – it’ll be some explosive arguments between me and Eizwan over some very mundane and minute details, before kissing and making up (heh), many, many more asthma attacks (which is a bigger issue than the arguments), more inches lost over the stress rather than the dieting and the wedding inches closer.

I do have to admit that I’m wishing that I would just wake up and guess what?! It’s D-Day! And yay, everyone I love is here, and I’m just here to celebrate and demure the night away (what? dance the night away? please, I’m Asian and conservative. Fluttering of the eyelashes, a shy smile is the only thing I’m allowed to do that evening)

But let’s recap this mad, mad week. I’ll probably be posting one a day because I’m mad (no, not really, I’m just saving one post a day as opposed to writing a 3000 word entry)

So we start the week with my asthma attacks.

Continue reading

Of Epic Dreams and Domesticity

Lately, Eizwan noticed my dreams have been rather…domestic per se. I’ve been dreaming that my pelamin and wedding decor had been a disaster, the wedding dress have been a disaster – and something else rather common in general.

I thought it was normal for me to dream this way but Eizwan did not think so. Fine. I endeavored to do better and was then rewarded with a very strange dream that involved jumping into sewage water, a bomb and a lovely boyfriend by the name of Adam Lambert.

I admit I have a pointless crush on Adam Lambert, so the dream was well…let’s not go into details per se. Not because it’s R-rated, but dreams are boring in general to be recounted to. Unless your fiance’s name is Eizwan and has a ridiculous ear for detail, despite how mundane things can be.

But the dream got me thinking. 1) Why is Adam Lambert gay? It makes me feel weird having a crush on him because I can’t allow my nefarious mind to have my way with him (well actually I can, it’s just that my brain keeps shouting, he won’t be into you darlin’!) and two, if the weddings have domesticated me. Which is the single most terrifying thought.

I think the preparation for a wedding can be slightly soul destroying. When once upon a time you’re thinking about saving the world, you’re now thinking about saving the furniture and the flowers. Where once upon a time you’re thinking, yes, should I take this job where I’d up in Machu Pichu hunting aliens and then become Prime Minister, you’re now thinking of menu planning to stretch that monthly budget of yours. You’ve gone from epic to domestic.

Weddings are bizarre. They turn what used to be very reasonable and interesting people into essentially very self-absorbed people focusing on the very mundane details. Does my corsage match with my theme? Good God, are you wearing that?! You might upstage ME! Will my wedding dais be the one to remember? Will my live band kick ass (trust me, mine won’t since I won’t be having one!)?

Of course, it doesn’t help everyone makes a fuss about it too. The number of times my grandmother reminds me that I will be “berumah-tangga” soon (literally translated, it means I’ll have a house and stairs, an upgrade I suppose…but it actually means I’ll be a married woman), it’s always said a bit solemnly. Your relatives do treat you a little bit more special now that you’re getting married.  And there are your own friends who say that, once you’re married, you’ve upgraded yourself.  Which makes me sorta wonder that are we less of a person before we marry?

There is this idea that when you marry, the centre of your world changes. That your entire life revolves around this one person and that you’ve moved on from everything else. Marriage is the be all and end all.

This is the  issue my aunts brought up over the weekend. They wanted my dad and mum to say ‘something’, like a speech of sorts after the solemnization ceremony. The all important “I let go of my daughter, her well-being and care is now in your hands. Bye bye forever.” I feel my aunts take glee in this act, they enjoyed sobbing their eyes out when my uncle did this sad declaration at my cousin’s wedding.

This is something I do not want. It is disheartening enough that my life will change (it is naive to acknowledge otherwise) but I don’t want to torture my father to saying that I’m leaving him. FOREVER. Which is what people make weddings make – like the end of something and the moving on to newer and better things and leaving people behind. With this new upgraded status, comes a new centre of my universe – my husband.

Because it’s not true.

Will my life change? Yes, probably. Will my priorities change? I think some will change – but not much. Will I be a different person? Maybe. If different means getting up earlier.

Sometimes I worry that marriage will lead to this life of domesticity. If I’m brutally honest, a lot of my friends, post-marriage talk about refrigerators, schools, servants, runaway servants, servants who hear voices and attack police officers, babies, cracked nipples, cost of nappies, organic food for babies and in general, are just terribly boring people from the super interesting people they were before.

Will I be this boring?

I had my answer this morning. This morning, I woke up in cold sweat from my very strange dream whereby I had to rescue someone through cold waters before the bomb exploded (I have a very queer imagination as they say), I was trying to figure out how exactly did these very domestic dreams turn so epic overnight. I think I’ve figured it out.

With this marriage comes a change, yes. Eizwan will be my family, he’ll be part of my family, legally. Spiritually, he has always been just as some of my dearest friends have always been part of my chosen family. Eizwan just happens to be slightly more special 😉

But while the tendency is for some to give up everything, give up their lives for this new core – well, as I dream about alligators in elevators, daydream about David Tennant, I have to say strongly and forcefully, that this is not who I am. I’m not going to give up who I am just to be the wife. It’s a new role, yes, but it does not mean I’ll give up 26 years of who I am as a person. What makes me, Adlina are my friends, my family, my writings, my posters on the wall, the Dalek on my shelf etc.

If in one fell swoop with Eizwan’s nikah declaration, I give all that up, Eizwan won’t be marrying the girl he fell in love with.

I can either allow myself to be domestic, or I can choose to live the life I want to. I can choose to cherish my friends, my family and be the same person I was before this marriage thing happened. Just as I could choose not to marry, I could have just as easily chosen to forget my family and friends if I were single. I could allow the domesticity to take over, or I can continue to dream about crocodiles and live, pardon the pretension of it all, an epic life.

So the key here is choice. I could either allow myself to slide into domesticity or live the life I want. It may not be easy this epic living, but at the end of the day, it is a choice I make.

Will things be different? Yes. Probably. But I’m not going anywhere, I’ll still love the same way I did before I got married. I’ll probably moan about my rented house because knowing my luck, the cabinets collapsed because I did not put them together properly, or I misplaced my Dalek and the cats are attacking poor Dalek Caan.

Back to the wedding, no speeches about me leaving my family as though I’m off to the new world, whereby it’s a 9 month journey by ship in perilous waters filled with sharks, pirates and typhoid and I can’t return until I’ve fully colonized the Wild West. Eizwan is coming into my family, I’m going into his. It’s an alliance of families, it’s a happy thing. I’m not superior to anyone else, nor am I moving on from anybody. Nor will I change to be a Stepford wife anytime soon.

So here’s to epic dreams and an epic life, surrounded by your family and friends.

56 Days – Card Preview

I’ve blogged about my wedding invites a million times over. As someone who loves to write, I have a particular affinity for stationery and I knew that I wanted my cards to be very special.

Well, today, my cards were finally ready and I’ve been antsy about these cards since the day my brother designed them. Drove all the way to the printers and picked them up – was utterly, utterly chuffed with the way they turned out, and even more so considering the price I paid.

I’m not going to share all of it just yet, will do after I’ve sent out the cards to all my guests.

But as a sneaky preview:

Front of wedding card

The Eleventh Hour

“Box falls out of the sky, man falls out of the box, man eats fish custard…and you’re not scared. Must be a hell of a scary crack in your wall.”

So much love for this first episode. I know I said I was going to blog about it but it’s been a busy day and I’m rather tired. It’s one of those episodes, the more I think about it, the more I love it.

In conclusion, my love for Doctor Who extends beyond just David Tennant (sorry David). It really is for the show.

Slight spoilers ahead.

Favourite scene in The Eleventh Hour? When the Doctor calls back the Atraxi and asks them if this planet is protected. Aaaaah! So awesome.

“Hello, I’m the Doctor. Basically….run.”