Amazing how the internet and specifically blogging keeps us all in contact, so much so that a friend of mine, who recently left my company for greener pastures elsewhere, still found time to give me this friendship award. Thanks dearie!
And if that ain’t enough, she bestowed on me another tag, one that is rather inquisitive, I would say, for it asks for five facts about me.
*drumroll please!*
Fact Number ONE
My husband thinks I have a condition known as hoarding, and he calls me a hoarder. I beg to differ. It’s just that I feel an emotional attachment to everything I own or anything people give me. Things I can’t bring myself to throw away include:
- Birthday and valentine cards (I’m sentimental about these – besides, how can anyone throw away cards given personally to them?)
- Wedding invitation cards (I started keeping these when I was planning for my wedding, just to get a feel of what kind of cards people were using. Now I keep only those beautiful ones)
- Old magazines (don’t know how to get rid of these, and sometimes I just need to rummage around for that odd recipe or article in some magazine)
- Clothes (they might come back into fashion someday)

And I also used to keep all the flowers I have ever received…well, up to the point when they started growing mould, of course. My hubby, on the other hand, is a *thrower*, and loves throwing things away. A case of opposites attracting, don’t you think?
Fact Number TWO
I have a penchant for good customer service, especially in restaurants where they charge me SERVICE TAX. In fact I have had rather strange experiences with these service people, the recent one being at Friday’s in Queensbay Mall.
Me (ordering food) : …and my boy will have a plate of the chicken spaghetti.
Waitress: Chicken or beef, ma’am?
Me (staring at her blankly): I just told you CHICKEN spaghetti, right?
Their “chicken or beef” response is a typical textbook response to anyone who orders spaghetti. I order it all the time for Ethan, so I know. I had wanted to cut to the chase by specifying the exact option I wanted, but obviously she wasn’t listening.
Later that night, while my hubby and I were chatting away, the same (dumb) waitress came from nowhere, dumped a plastic bag of takeaway food on our table, right in front of us, and walked off without saying a word. It was only after we had called her back that she realized it was for the table next to ours. Well, the least she could do was to say *something* when she dropped the package, right?
Fact Number THREE
I feel the need to fold every item that comes out of the washer before I use it. Be it an article of clothing, a piece of hanky or the bedsheet, everything needs to be folded first, whether or not they will be ironed and hung up later. I was brought up to believe that if I wear clothes that weren’t folded beforehand, I would end up stupid. Hey..maybe this belief bears some truth to it, you know…8A’s in the SPM? Eh? Eh? *nudge* *grin*
Fact Number FOUR
I pride myself in successfully breastfeeding Ethan for two years. It was a long arduous journey filled with ups and downs but I can finally pat myself on the back and give myself a treat for a job well done. Nowadays, I tend to be the breastfeeding consultant to people whom I come into contact with, most recently my two sisters-in-law. I tend to be naggy when it comes to breastfeeding though, but hey, it’s something I am very passionate about…… breastfeeding, not nagging.
Fact Number FIVE
Come this March 8th, I will be doing my duty as a citizen of Malaysia by casting my vote. Irks me to no end when I find out there are people who can’t be bothered to vote, or some can’t even be bothered to register themselves as voters! I’m not talking about people who just hit 21, but these are 30-year olds! All the time in the world to go for movies, shopping, clubbing, but can’t even find a few minutes to register as voters! Sheesh!! This would mean they would have already missed out on two general elections! SIGH…anyway…just letting off some steam here.
Oh yeah, must remember to pass this tag on. So I am tagging:
Rinnah
Paris
Sting