…no, not in Switzerland (oh how I wish!), but back at home.

About a month ago, the reporter from Clove contacted me via one of my other friends, wanting to feature me in an article about mixed marriages, specifically Malaysian women who tied the knot with foreigners. So I replied a few questions she had - I still have my answers all typed out on a word document!

And a few days ago, it came out on Clove - a women’s pullout from The Star. You can find the article online here. I’m just one out of the four couples she interviewed and I must say one thing though.

I DO NOT LIVE IN LUCERNE!!!!!!!!!!!!

I didn’t know whether to laugh or not (probably wasn’t laughing when I read it because it was during that whole stressful period when my domain was down and such) but people in Lucerne speak German and to learn French when I’m living in a German-speaking area is, well, stupid to say the least. I wonder what the editor or subeditors were doing when they read through this piece. O’well…

Anyway, my thanks to Ee Tan - apart from that booboo, the article was nicely put together. And she picked up on one important thing; those preconceived notions that people have about Asian wives and the fact that not all of us have it easy abroad. Yes, you could say that I had my own agenda when I replied her questions. I was really fed up of people back at home assuming that I was swimming in gold, that I was living a cushioned life and that I didn’t know anything about suffering. Sorry but that’s not the reality of the situation.

Life is tough no matter where you are - home or abroad - and sometimes, people will tell you that it’s tougher when you’re abroad because not only do you have to break stereotypes formed by others, you too will be doubly hard on yourself!

And then there is the job hunt. No folks, you don’t automatically get a job when you move abroad - it depends on what people need, what skills you have, where you are and well, just about 100 other things. Like what I told Ee Tan, here people assume that just because I’m Asian, my English is learnt from some language school. I had such a hard time explaining the concept of Malaysians learning English since they are children just as how French kids learn French in school. They just can’t understand it. And when an assignment like “Jobs in Atlanta” comes along the way, I wish I could magically wave a wand and make it “Jobs in Switzerland”. But I can’t.

Anyway, Mum’s working on churning out a PDF so in the meantime, have a look-see if you still haven’t seen it!

One year ago, I pledge to hold onto a love I found several years earlier for the rest of my life. It hasn’t been long but it has been wonderfully great.

He never heard these words - mainly because we did our registration the “simple” way - but as they say, better late then never.

I promise to give you the best of myself and ask of you no more than I can give.
I promise to respect you as your own person and to realize that your interests, desires and needs are no less important than my own.
I promise to share with you my time and attention and to bring you joy, strength and imagination to our relationship.
I promise to keep myself open to you, to let you see through the window of my world into my innermost fears and feelings, secrets and dreams.
I promise to grow along with you, to be willing to face changes in order to keep our relationship alive and exciting.
I promise to love you in good times and in bad, with all I have to give and all I feel inside the only way I know how.
Completely and forever.

To a great, loving and good man and to more good years ahead…

For the full story, click on the pic.

Our love story got featured in Cleo’s June edition, thanks to Elsa Samuel who interviewed me via email in March. She had actually approached me earlier, before the dinner reception in February but I guess the article wasn’t slated to come out till much later. By the time I arrived in Switzerland, it was too late to do anything in person so we communicated mostly via email.

I had actually forgotten all about it until Su Yin (and a bunch of other girls) told me about it… Thanks to her, I also got myself a soft copy of the supposed article.

It’s not too bad really, except for the part where they spelt my name wrong and the detail about Nil’s “job” - he was actually on holiday in Cambodia, not working there…plus there are some typo errors and vagueness here and there. O’well…you can’t win them all.

Still, it’s rather nice seeing yourself on print.

No, I don’t mean IT (that horror movie) or it (as in the noun that refers to an object/animal)… I mean I.T. or Information Technology, a common abbreviation that people use to refer to computers and the knowledge that comes with it.

So, what do things like patch panels, IT and my hubby have in common?

At this very moment, nothing.

Nil’s computer just went through another bout of battling Trojan Generic viruses; and the owner, as usual, blows his top because he wants to be in front of the computer, punching (rather banging) the keyboards instead of his wife helping him solve the problem.

The funny thing is this - I can easily do the same without him throwing a tantrum when he’s in front of the computer and I’m sitting next to him. Sometimes I just think he wants to feel in control of his computer.

It is at times like this that I’m reminded of one fact - some men just don’t do well without control, especially when the control is handed over (willingly or otherwise) to their wives.

A week has gone by since the incident. Since then people have enquired about how I have been coping…

I am doing just fine.

No, not sugary over the top kind of fine but the type of fine where…

…you know life will go on with or without you.

…you learn that it happens to the best of us for a reason.

…you find out that you’re alone.

…you are certain that good things will come again.

…

It is spring here, officially, even though on paper, spring was like weeks ago. But now there are green leaves everywhere, my flowers bulbs and corms are sprouting leaves, and my ginger is running out of house and home (it needs a repot, badly!)…and in case you haven’t noticed all those things, the fact that women AND men shed their clothes easily for the sun is definitely an indication that spring is here.

Nil enjoys the sun - it’s a luxury over here since winter days are often gloomy and sun-less - and it seems strange to grief during a time of rebirth and renewal. So to cope, I planted additional dahlias and freesia. I just hope they don’t grow into giants which require repotting!!!

Before you think all is dandy and perfect, word, I still haven’t been able to touch my baby knits - so I decided to start with other knits, like the socks I owe Nil, and other crafts, such as cross-stitch. Will tell more when it arrives in the mail but lets just say the walls won’t be so bare soon…

Things are…just going good…

To cut the long story short since I wrote about it here, a visit to the hospital’s emergency section yesterday and then, a transvaginal ultrasound scan revealed that I have “anembryonic pregnancy” commonly known as a blighted ovum and that my body was basically aborting the sac - cervix dilated and well, expelling of uterine wall lining.

In short, I’m going through a loss. I think I’ll be back on the road regularly in the next few days, even though I’ll be putting up some money earners. Need to recover and well, just enjoy the long weekend.

I’ve closed comments here so if you like you can leave comments at the original post here.

My first memories of the magnifying glass was watching my wrinkled grandfather attempt to read a newspaper with something that looked as old as he was. Since he passed away, the magnifying glass he often used is left hidden away in one of the drawers at home. I never thought much about it…or him until I got this assignment.

Magnifying glasses have come a long way since my grandfather’s death. They have them on watches and in all sorts of sizes and shapes. If he was alive, my grandfather would have been the most stylish old gent around…at least in my eyes.

Truth be told, I don’t really know him that well. He passed away when I was around ten and before then, I didn’t speak much Hokkien (a Chinese dialect) so we weren’t exactly conversation buddies. I did remember my dad talking of his carefree personality and how he loved all his grandchildren, especially my brother and myself. We were the only ones in the family that carried names he personally gave…my other cousin’s names were bestowed by my grandmother.

I like to think that he was a gentle-hearted man who gave his children little material things but many important qualities like diligence, hard-work and appreciation for life itself. It was a pity that he died bedridden, after suffering from two strokes…but come to think of it, God must have loved him well enough.

Sometimes I think despite the fact that he used glasses to read, he could see clearer than any one of us. I wish I got to know him way better than I did.

Maybe in the future…

Do you see a little addition to the thescarfer.net family?

Hint: It’s near the top of the sidebar.

If you still can’t see it, well, hop on over here. It’s still very new and in the middle of plugin tweaks but it ought to look just about homey…

I honestly can’t wait to add more there…