Food is Beautiful

Food is Beautiful

When I was 10 years old I weighed 50kg. Imagine growing up with that. And my cousins who were about 4 years older than me were the lithest and sveltest teenager i ever laid my eyes on.

 Needless to say it was painful growing up beside them. 

And my love-hate relationship with food ensued.

And clothes. And photographs. Understandably so, for who would want to capture themselves when they look like a plump teapot standing amidst flute champagne glasses.

Thankfully when I hit puberty changes kicked in and with determination on my part I eventually shed my excess weight. I was able to sail through 45 - 47 kg until I graduated college.

But it wasn't easy and up till now it isn't. Bombarded with food everywhere, everyday, how can one resist its beauty. You see, I find food beautiful. Pretty. As much as they look gratifying I almost always find them delectable.

From time to time, I would venture on the world of dieting. But mind you i would be very proud if I can last more than three days. A feat I have yet to achieve. For I will always say "YES" than the obligatory dieting "NO".

I am also adventurous when it comes to food. I am guaranteed to order the least familiar to me when trying out a new place. It sometimes gives me a disaster but for most part its a success. 

I love cookbooks. Even beside my desire to actually learn to make some of them one day, is the indulgence I get every time I scan the pages and look at its page after page after page of delicious looking foods.

Cooking shows are also my guilty pleasure. Not that I know how to cook, BUT, I am now in the process of collecting recipes. Somehow someday I'll be able to try making them.

 

Colors needs to work with and complement each other to create a pretty picture. Or painting. Just like ingredients.

 Cooking shows are also my guilty pleasure. Not that I know how to cook, BUT, I am now in the process of collecting recipes. Somehow someday I'll be able to try making them.

Deep inside of me I harbour this fantasy of owning my bakery/restaurant/cafe or whatever as long as it about food, which i guard fiercely.

For in this fantasy I get to create these beautiful masterpieces of food which always, Always, comes out beautiful and perfect.

#burpple

Learning at Home

Learning at Home

I have learnt my lesson well. The hard way in fact. 

TWO.WEEKS.IS.NOT.ENOUGH.

For going home that is. The 16 hours travelling for one way is not worth it, so to speak. 

Granted that I'm back at home, with my family, my friends, my comfort zone and all, it might just have been alright.

This coming home has been a great learning curve. Be it a wanted and expected or random and surprising it has hit its mark. I'd like to think that it has made me better but as it was mostly, new realisations and it has only been a week since I got back, I think I 'll give it sometime.

Right, anyways in two weeks I got married. Again. Thankfully to the same man. =) Our parents wanted to have the good ol'church wedding ceremony and as we are dutiful (ahem, ahem) members of the society we obliged. Thinking about it though, I'm glad we did. For there was nothing more remarkable than sharing the moment with people who matters. 

Then I also got to meet and know people that WILL matter. Eventually. That's the difference I now see. It was lovely for it was a surprise and spontaneous dinner arranged by MIL but just as well it was nerve- racking for the very same reasons too. It was a night of how do you do's.

It was also a homecoming of letting go. For now I know that I can never go back to my 'ME' place. For my family I will never be the single Marianne they still thought and remember me for, my friends the happy go lucky girl who can just ride with the wind and follow anything goes, and love ones who will have all the love I have to give.

Instead, they got  the-'ME' now. A part of whole. 

It was a homecoming of adjustments, for now two different worlds tries to exists closely side by side. It will be a long journey but it'll be one I will gladly trek. 

Dry Spell

Dry Spell

I miss this! Phew! It's been a while.

I'm on a dry spell. Can't even seem to put two things together. Busy? Indeed. Stress? Exactly. Tired? Super.

As soon as I get my act together I would definitely be back. Even just to keep my sanity. :)

 

 

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All in a Days Work

All in a Days Work

A person who loves his job doesn't ever goes to work. Or so they say. I wish it's true. I guess its true. As for me it's too early to say, but I do know what's going to work to a job that you hate feels like.

I'll skip on the details of why and how I went for it, rest assured it was more of a necessity than anything else. And it was pure torture. Every time the alarm rings my first thought was do I have a fever and should I call sick? Hence my hypochondriac self was in full overdrive. That's saying something considering I am healthy as a horse for as long as I can remember. And on time that I did actually came to work I counted the hours until my freedom. That was until the following day where it begins all over again. Damn the necessity I lasted 6 months.

Now, thank goodness, in some way or another I am on the other side of the coin. Where I look forward to everyday and the next, and the next. It is actually refreshing to come out of work and finding yourself smiling as you go home. That even if I am beat tired I still want to wake up early than the alarm and do it all over again.

Where I am right now open myself to many things. And I learnt that the universe has a "funny way" of making you confront your weakness.

Example, my kryptonite or rather my Achilles heels are frail, sick, old men. Always. Hands down this sight is just enough to break me down. So as early as first year in nursing I knew that I will steer away from geriatric. But guess what, where was I first had my experience? Yep! A nursing home.

One of the formed personality image I constructed for myself is that I am not one who is meant to be confined inside an office. I need people. I need interaction. I need patients not clients. This has been my conviction since I was in 4th grade. Yet out of nowhere, I was asked to be the hospital's transport assessor. Doing the exact job I said I will never do. And viola, suddenly I found myself sitting in front of a computer inside an office.

Now after another shift of things I am in my happy place. Where I am excited, happy and learning everyday. Sure there are stressors and downsides but as whole the scale is tipping on the good end. And what a feeling in doing what you love! Suddenly the work becomes passion and the workplace becomes an extended home and workmates becomes extended family, and finally, patients becomes friends.

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Pen Affair

Pen Affair

I have this bizarre affinity with pens. I love pens. And doodle. If it is not bordering to clutter, I would love to get my hands to each kind.

What's even more puzzling is that it doesn't have to be unique or expensive. (Though it would be a plus if it is.) As long as it works, it's one for the books.
Colors are fun. Black would come first, then red, followed by green, and then the rest.
I don't know how it started, but here are some.

All time favourite

Family addition

The ever essential

Current flavour

And more pens.

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