Learning

I remembered crying a million tears after a bad break up without actually knowing why. I am always a sucker for romance. A hopeless romantic, if you will. But I knew the coming of each and every break up. I am a willing participant, even. And yet I still cry a river when each partnership ends. For years, I thought I was crying for losing the affection of one person. In reality, since I had correctly predicted each break up, my tears are more for losing the routine I’ve established since the start of each relationship. After each break up, and trust me, I’ve went thru a lot of break ups, I strived to rekindle the love relationship I have with myself but only to let it waver when I fall in love with someone else. What is it with me? Why is it difficult to love 2 people, myself and my partner, at the same time? Why is it when I love, I gave myself away only to be hating myself more and more as the relationship progresses. I’ve read somewhere and have even dispensed this advice; you can’t love another without first loving yourself. Theoretically, I agree a 100 per cent. Practically, I am just a preacher ignoring her own words. But recently, I’ve realized, ignorance can be bliss.

I have been with my man for 2 years when he popped the question. I said yes, without missing a beat, at the same time thinking, “I must be pretty awesome for someone, as wonderful as he is, to want to give me his last name.” I guessed I never really gave myself credit for the being the person I am. I have yet to learn from all of my mistakes and I am still continually making new ones. I have caught myself on more than one occasion being one sided in my relationship; loving him more than I love myself or loving me more than I do him. But I guess that is ok. I did good. We are both still around, with much intact and still very in love. For the mistakes we’ve made, and I am sure we will be making some more, we have both developed a self-healing heart and an ego that bruised and heals as quickly as a day. Some mistakes are necessary. You need mistakes to learn. It is a lifelong process.

The benefits of marrying an Indon

Ok wedding news. I have discussed with the Fiance and we both agree to purchase instead of just renting our outfits for our solemnisation. On my most recent trip to Jakarta, I have amassed a sizable collection of wedding magazines. Night after night of flipping thru said mags, I am pretty much convinced that the malay wedding industry in Singapore is a thousand, if not, a million steps away from theirs.

For my wedding reception in Indonesia, I almost wanted to have my mak andam in Singapore to fly over and do my wedding in Indonesia too. But WHAT THE HELL WAS I THINKING?!!! Now I want my make up artist, designers and wedding planner  from Indonesia to come fly in to Singapore and help me plan my wedding here. The wedding favors, invitation cards, wedding decor and almost everything else was leaps and bounds ahead of what we have here. Oh why can't we have BOTH weddings in Indonesia.

Anyhoos, I wanted a simple white kebaya for our solemnisation and these godly creations from Ferry Sunarto, a designer based in Bandung (!!!), are to die for. And yes, a typical Indon celebrity wedding, this is. But look at that kebaya. I want that!!! No, no... I NEED THAT!

Love the details on the back!!! Here's a couple more from another designer Goddess, Anne Avantie.

Ya Allah, if I could give up half of my life just so my mum could live the rest of her life without any pain, I would. I really would.

U can't stop it once it starts.

I bruised my arm. No idea how that happened. But when I was a kid, whenever I bruised, and since bruises shows up easily on my fair skin, I would instinctively say that my father wasn’t the cause of the bruise. Even when nobody asked.


In my family, we are taught to lie from a very young age.

Of needles and threads...

Now that struck a nerve, didn’t it? Now on to happier things. I recently purchased a basic sewing machine despite not being able to even sew a button on right. I have since learnt a lot from youtube and other various sources on the internet. I’ve made plans to take sewing classes in September and although these classes are gonna cost me a bomb, I am still psyched at the thought of making my own dresses, something which I have been buying a lot of, lately. I hand sew a mid-length maxi skirt a few days ago (didn’t have a sewing machine then) and despite the messy stitches, I had a rough vision of what the skirt would look like if I had the help of a sewing machine.

My first sewing machine. In fact the first ever sewing machine in my house. I come from a generation of working women who each had a career of her own. I am very proud of that fact.

It gets personal.

A long time ago, 16 years to be exact, my little cousin broke my favourite mirror and since I was only 10 then, I ran to mommy and showed her what happened. The raucous angered my father so much that he gave me a slap across my face and a couple more blows which I couldn’t remember cause after years of being manhandled by my father, I can no longer tell apart between a slap and a punch or a shove and a kick. It all spells out pain to me. What was significant about that day wasn’t the amount of hits I received but was his words that hovered over me till today. “Sejak kau dilahirkan sampai sekarang, kau anak sial. Anak sueh!” In English, it basically meant I was a child that brought him nothing but bad luck and misfortune since my birth. He then went on to reiterate the car he had to give up, the job he lost and the financial struggles our family went through at that point of time. And it was all because of me. My birth had brought on such dire consequences to him and the rest of my family. Mummy was the ONLY sole breadwinner that I can remember for a long time to come. My father was unemployed most of his life.

You would think that these are only words spoken in an outburst of anger. Words that do not carry any weight. But few days after, my father brought me to the clinic and I had my first (which I could remember) blood extraction done. I remembered the doctor asking my father the purpose of the blood test and I remembered my father saying it was for a personal reason. But I guess the doctor knew. My father wanted to know if I was indeed his. And I knew that too, despite being only 10.

My father wasn’t always unkind to me. There are moments when he bragged about my academic achievements to friends and family and I believed I was the favourite child. But that was all I ever was. I was just a bragging right. Cause my father, he is a proud man.

I would go on further but these are the kind of things nobody wants to talk about. Everyone has a painful story to tell. And this is mine.

Hello again.

The engagement affair was a small, cheery event despite the many hiccups along the way. (Mak andam is the best I could ever ask for!! She rocks!) Wedding has been brought forward to 4 months earlier than the original date (which I promise to announce at year end). My man had a birthday 3 days ago and obviously, I was not there to smash his face in a birthday cake like I did last year. (Haha. Gd times, gd times.)

I do realize I am not a very good blog keeper nor am I the most expressive writer. But this blog shall remain. Probably half-filled still but with a little bit more of my emotions fused in this cold white space. Let’s get more personal from here on, shall we?

General Election on my engagement day. That's not gonna stop us.

5 days ago, I am where I am now. In a plane. waiting for take-off. A group of teenagers probably on their maiden trip with friends were seated just behind me. They infected me with their enthusiasm and I remembered feeling just as excited as they were despite this being my xth no of trips. Alone.

Then as I retrieved my bags from the carousel, I spotted a single red bag moving along the belt, uncollected. Maybe even abandoned. Quelling my unreasonable need to run thru customs to see his face, I told myself I am not abandoned. I am not alone. And I am not that single red bag.

Soekarno-Hatta's arrival hall was filled with a sea of faces and a symphony of voices. But none were comforting nor familiar to me. Feeling like a ridiculous lost child I turned to my left and there it was. The face I wanted to see. I am no longer abandoned. Cause I, too, have been collected.

So here I am. 5 amazing days on. As the cabin crew began their now-familiar safety drills, I have a flash of what my future will be like. Choosing to be with him means booking single seat on the airplane, lone walks through customs, heaving heavy luggage on my own and having only my own hands to clutch should the plane hits turbulence. Choosing him means having to wander thru many unfamiliar airports and trying to make sense of every unfamiliar custom regulations. Alone.

My plane is about to take off now. I have an irrepressible sudden need to cry. I am going home. This is the saddest I have been to leave a country that is not my own.As I pen this down, it hits me. I am willing to go thru the most stringent custom checks, hauled along the heaviest bags, waltz thru the longest/shortest, smallest/biggest, darkest/brightest airports and endure the worst turbulence... Just to get to where he's at. For the first time in my life, and I never thought I would say this, I am unconditionally in love with a man whose life is as important to me as my own.

I, Nur Fadhillah M G, who has never been so sure until now, am in love. So Mr Ifwalmi Nasution, I am answering you once again, Yes. Yes I will marry you. A million times over.

Love,
Nur Fadhillah M G, herewith also known as the future Nur Fadhillah Nasution.

A week from now I would have my man physically next to me. Not just hearing his voice on the phone nor seeing his face in the computer screen. I would have him. To hold.

A year ago when we talked about the possibility of us being in a long distance relationship, he expressed more concern than I did. He was going away for a reason that will benefit us both in the future and my momma taught me to never hold a man back from what he really wants to do. I am taking this temporary distance between us rather well. But on some days, I wished he was here for me to perfect my figure four leg lock wrestle mania style. (we are animalistic, like that.)

So 6 days more till I get to smack one tight ass. Psyched!!!

So I have finally chosen an outfit for the engagement affair. The chosen mak andam is really my kinda people. Meaning to say, she too understands why a girl like me can never have flowers in my hair. So she rocks! A month more before my final fitting and if Life continues to be kind to me, I would have lost a couple more kgs on top of the 4 kgs I have lost since she last took my dress measurements.

I have been putting off a few minor purchases for the engagement affair and I really think its high time I head over to Ikea and get things done.

On another note, the man faces an important exam today and I really hope he does well enough to make the temporary distance between us worth it. I miss him. More than I thought I would.

Gonna go catch a movie. Really wish I am with my man right now. On a brighter note, it is less than 4 weeks till I get to pinch his butt again. Ok not really.

Gave in to one of my (many) cravings today...

Koka's Low Fat Non fried instant noodle in curry (above pic is in spicy sesame chicken flavor which I have yet to try) is surprisingly gratifying. Not quite like good old Maggi, but it has an interesting chewy like texture to its noodle. I kinda like it, for now.

Being on diet sucks. I am never one who exercises portion control or counts calories. So this new lifestyle is taking its toll on me. I do, however, like the almost daily morning/evening runs. I forgot how liberating it feels after a good run and I don't remember why I even stopped running a year back.

My cravings for fried food have considerably lessened. I have found some great alternatives to meat. Eating a handful of chickpeas makes me momentarily forget about having a juicy fat marbled steak. Hot drinks will make me feel a lot fuller than cold drink does. An orange satisfies my sweet tooth. The smell of my cocoa scented body butter satiates part of my chocolate cravings.

I do not want this to be a part of another diet phase. I really hope that this time, it will become a part of my lifestyle. And I really hope to get smaller thighs soon.

Really soon.

Not a good idea to think a little bit of mindless internet surfing would eventually put you to bed. Especially when watching Nigella Lawson on YouTube. Cause now I am very awake, salivating and ravenous. Shall.Resist.The.Kitchen.

On another note, made a sound decision to change my Mak Andam for the engagement affair. 1st meeting with the new Mak Andam next sat and I have till then to pray she really is as good as her portfolio appears to be and she has the patience of a nun to work on me, as some of us already know, I can't sit still for more than 15 secs.

The man is, surprisingly, as involved in the preparations albeit the distance. A good 2 hours conversation through Yahoo Messenger (skype was being a heinous bitch) pretty much settled things. My initial idea of a white and blue candy bar is going to be a white and chocolate chocolate bar. I am almost more excited about the chocolate bar than I am about the whole affair itself.

Almost.

A little less than 6 weeks before I get to see my man again. It has been difficult planning an engagement party and a wedding without him but since I am part human and part android, I am coping :)

I would love to share some unorthodox food ideas for both the wedding and engagement affair but since I am on diet right now, I have programmed my Internet to show pictures of decaying teeth and foot rot whenever I google food.

Apple of my eyes...

Love these. Such simplicity. Centerpiece ideas for the Engagement affair.

Credits: Here

Hair

Credits: Here and Here.

I know I've said I do not want to make a big deal for my engagement party. The initial plan was to not engage a full service mak andam for the event. But thanks to google and my sudden obssesion for make up, I am once again swayed.

Oh but I am only human!

Planning a wedding to someone who is currently a plane ride away from you can be pretty daunting. As much as I love the liberty to pick my own design, colors and theme (Type A Personality), I need a 2nd opinion or rather another person who is just as involved in this wedding as I am, to agree with me.

In everything.