Wait till you see what I made in the last couple of days...

If nothing else, looking at her and the rest of the girls will warm the soul.

I swear, it's a disease. I never get tired of making of them. What to do? Honestly, I think I've made over 80+ dolls since last year, and given them away to just about every loved one on this planet. I don't mind keeping them in a box and then taking them out to admire every now and then.

I finally figured out how to take digital pics of the dolls and resizing them. I didn't realize what an effort it'd be to photograph them and I really wished I taken them before giving them away.

Live and learn.

This an origami paper doll, made with approximately 3 1/2 sheets of 3x3 paper using the traditional folding technique -

• Inner solid layer
• Outer floral kimono
• Sleeves
• Obi (belt around the kimono)

Nowadays, some folks use double-sided paper to achieve the look of the inner layer and create double colors to imitate the look above. She's about 3 1/2 inches tall which is not the usual height to create these dolls. Because I have a preference to create junior sized origami, it challenges my folding ability and my eye for detail-orientation. Plus, there's a boatload of cutting too.

The only other enthusiast who could pull this off is Ching.

She stands about 5 inches and is made using the traditional folding technique for BOY kimono dolls. I realized when making larger dolls, they are quicker because of the sheer size. No need to struggle with creases or corners and centering the head with its body is far simpler. Now I understand why so many of these are made and sold off the web. This requires only half of the time compared to the smaller dolls I've made.

Furthermore, a lot of folks use a template which cuts down nearly 70% of the folding and paper required (a serious no-brainer). Quite honestly, it doesn't cut it for me. I make the 'shortcut' dolls anyway to use up scraps I accumulate from making the traditional ones.

I find it strange how much I love paper and feel like I can never get enough of making origami stuff.

Obsessive...

Yeah, ME, when it comes to paper.

A few weeks ago, I was at a Japanese bookstore and discovered the most adorably charming postcard decorated with little origami boys and girls. It was simple and with some deliberation, I couldn't resist the temptation of purchasing it. It was a whopping $8.50.

Not cheap by ANY standards, but I had to have it.

I wanted to recreate the same thing with my own handiwork and materials. So, I made the attempt last night.

Can I say that it was a lot harder than it looked? Granted, the shapes were simple and required very little materials, it was, however, holy-guacamole-small. Cutting and shaping these miniature forms seriously tested my patience. Believe it or not, this new craft demanded the same amount of time for me to fold my signature origami dolls using the traditional method with all of the extra bells and whistles.

Because I have a strong preference to reuse my scraps, I tend to take a lot of time deciding especially with these limited color combinations. I hate to waste paper and have a tendency to accumulate a mountain of scraps for 'future projects'. Just imagine how much I've stashed over the year since I've been making these dolls. I have PLENTY for these new ones!

Weird as this may sound...I absolutely adore Hugh Laurie on House M.D.

He's not good-looking or makes me swoon like Cary Elwes (The Princess Bride), but there's something dreamy about his voice. Ironically, I love his American accent far better than his English one, and for those of you who know me well, I'll usually melt like ice cream when I hear British accents. There's just something soooo sexy about it.

Interestingly enough, I didn't even know he was English until he appeared on the Jay Leno show. I was shocked how different he sounded in his native tongue, maybe because he sounded like any other English git. In his American twang, he annunciated every syllable properly, exuded charisma in his deep voice, and best of all, sarcastic as hell.

And yes, TFF belongs in this category as well.

So sorry for not sending those cards out, again, this year. I have two boxes sitting on the floor of my living room and I still can't get my ass in gear to write and send them out.

I still can't believe how Christmas simply came and went. I have no idea what I have done in the past 3 weeks to justify this memory loss.

Not in the mood for anything...not even playing with my kid.

Trying to do origami tonight to take my mind off of things and it sure ain't working. Took 3 hours to contruct little mini's that should not have taken this long. Then again, Miki was sitting next to me relaying an entire storyline for each drawing she made.

At some point, my headache worsened. I had to tell her off because she was competing with the volume level of the TV set and killed off an entire Amazon forest within 45 minutes to illustrate her neverending saga.

Owch.

Awe-inspiring role as one of the farm animals during the birth of Jesus Christ (as you can tell, I didn't pay any attention to the performance - too busy trying to figure out my friend's digital camera). Too bad the pic of her yawning didn't come out, now that my beloved comrades, is a Kodak moment!!

Oh gawd...now I can sorta "think".

I think it was higher calling for me to slow down, get my act together, organize, and plan out my activities. The constant living on a day-to-day basis caught up to me.

Now I think I'm ready to rock n' roll.

Since this summer…my daughter has gone through an amazing growth spurt. Much of this growth is attributed to my mother’s diligent care and love, especially when it comes to food. With the right ingredients, this kid can easily pack it in and make Nana proud.

Although she was born an extremely muscular child, her body has gotten firmer than ever. It’s so weird for me when I see and hold other children with scrawny frames with their pants practically falling off of them. They unknowingly sport the grunge look while my kid has to suck in her tummy for me to button her jeans. Hell, she’s got the J. Lo booty for a Chinese kid. It cracks me up because all of her pants are now too tight and the only ones that fit are WAY too long.

Unfortunately, Miki’s gotten wider, but not much taller. She’s one of the most petite girls in her class, but she outweighs the tallest kid. It’s rather baffling because she’s not at all fat, just a chubby, dimpled kid. Her solid build is quite mystifying because one would swear that I sent her off to gymnastics/soccer boot camp at birth. Even as a wee one, she was never a cuddly, chubby and soft baby a mum usually expects to squeeze in her arms. Genetically built with large robust thunder thighs (she can rival that of Chaka Khan’s) and powerful muscular calves like Dave Beckham’s, she could probably kick some serious ass if she was taught the right moves.

Nonetheless, I love squeezing her. She’s so enjoyable and devilishly adorable. However, I will confess that sleeping with her does have its serious drawbacks when her legs are planted across my chest or face. They weigh a TON.

Because she’s very shy around people and hate to draw any attention to her, not many people are able to see her sweet side that I’m privileged to. She only gravitates toward a select few, especially those who possess friendly and positive auras. Everyone else will have to take a backseat and wait for the little ice princess to warm up to them.

It's a bad one. Almost like a migraine, but loaded with a huge psychic burden.

It bites and I can't focus.

Can't conceal what I feel
What I know is real
No mistaking the faking
I care
With a prayer in the air
I will leave it there
On a note full of hope
Not despair
- A Pain That I'm Used to

Still reeling over from last week's concert performance. My goodness, I'm still getting over from watching Dave slither around the stage and no one on this planet moves as well as he...

Divine butt he has.

I wanna stay up all night, blogging, surfing, and making an origami doll or two.

But I have to go to sleep and work. Lots of stuff to do and issues to address.

On Sunday, I made a bunch of dolls (at least 8 of them for 10 hours) and nearly forgotten how to trim and measure them. It was as though some of last year's constant repetition in the handiwork was erased from memory. It took about 5 dolls before I stopped making obvious mistakes. For those of you who haven't figured it out yet, I get anal and insane because I want them to be absolutely 'perfect'.

Believe it or not, it takes more time to MATCH colors and outfits than to actually create them. I was also quite surprised at some of my ingenious techniques with certain folds and shortcuts. Man, I actually put some serious thought into it!!!

I guess the next step is to put them out on ebay. Whether or not they possess any selling power is a whole other ball of wax. To cross out something from my To-Do List is a good enough for me.

For years I’ve worked to the bone to achieve material objects under the premise that it’ll grant me status, uniqueness, and who knows what the heck else – a typical sucker for marketers.

I’m not gonna lie, I love shopping. As early as the dawn of evolution, our innate ability to forage for food extended right into our ability to search for the desirable and affordable deals either in-store or on the web. We even have “moods” when our minds are exceptionally alert and psychically keen to hone in on those great ticketed items which are deliberately kept under wraps. It’s not a simple task, and heck, we can mange deftly without any show of defeat. During unbelievable sales, you’ll never hear a woman complain of a reactive bladder, fatigue or even hunger. These little nuisances can be easily tolerated as the belief in possessing quality merchandise below retail price is a lifetime achievement in its own right.

Every two weeks, I would pay homage to Century 21 Department Store (NOT the realty) and scavenge for some awesome deals (oddly enough, I hardly bought clothing!!). This is a shopper’s mecca offering a wealth of brand-name products - from housewares, designer shoes, luggage, socks, and coats to handbags - no matter what, there was ALWAYS something to buy. Heck, I could swear this store contributes at least 20% of our nation’s GNP alone.

Due to its popularity - especially the swollen mass of these crowds - the place threatens newbies of heinous migraines for days to come and kids absolutely hate waiting for their moms to scoping every nook and cranny of this place. After 10 years of serious shopping, I’ve mastered the in’s and out’s of the store, so the stress of shopping isn’t as high.

But in the recent months, I’ve gotten more and more laid back with my overall appearance. I’ve worn and purchased a lot less makeup, resorting to jeans and t-shirts (preferably the rocker look), and showing complete refusal to try any of my business-related clothes. In one closet alone, I have some power suits, nice dressy slacks, chic tops, and a variety of sharp pieces which actually suggest that I have some fashionable taste.

Now? My goodness, I look like a bum. Back in August when I visited my brother in Lawrenceville, I could not help but schlep around like some bored and pale-looking housewife with bad hair dragging along 3 children. I was quite disgusted with the way I looked, but I couldn’t be bothered with getting dressed up. It seemed to be so much work.

I thought maybe I was spiraling downwards with my moods again, but I wasn’t. In actuality, I was no longer in the rat race trying to outdo or impress those around me. For the longest time, there was always the mindset of having to purchase a Coach Barclay Tote, the mid-length Burberry trench, this cute Chanel compact, that lustrous Gucci handbag, or even a Issey Miyake fragrance (mind you, the men’s version is light and wonderful - AHEM). After one item was bought, there would always be another one to be sought after.

Back then, I made a decent living, lived cheaply, and managed funds wisely. Quantity was just as important as quality. Plus, shopping was my way of letting off of corporate steam.

Removed from the corporate workplace, I no longer have these materialistic qualms to contend with. Each time I visit the Fido Prison, I flash a toothy smile at those decrepit beings and declare how wonderful it is to be on an extended vacation – for life.

I love the feeling of loose clothing, nothing too tight or restricting. Although tailored and fitted outfits show off sleek lines, *gasp* they leave little room for breathing. Till now, I can’t seem to get my body to fit into my old work clothes for some strange reason, even if they are loose-fitting and comfortable. Maybe, my mind is completely repelled and quite possibly repulsed by its former association.

Nowadays, I stick by a few simple pieces showing no real desire to make wardrobe additions like I once did. However, I am in the mindset of purchasing things that I absolutely want and must have, discounted or not. I have adopted the French way of dressing where you would purchase and own only a few pricey and choice pieces for continuous wear. It is perceived by some people that I'm either a cheapskate or woman who either lacks fashionable flair.

Whoa…

Can’t believe that it’s been a year since I started blogging. Regretfully I’ve lost touch with it in the past few months thanks to Mikayla’s School SNAFU and trying to take the business up a notch, or rather, bring it to par of where it SHOULD be.

Honestly, I can’t be bothered with the shit going on at school. As bad as things are, I have to let it slide because in the end, it’ll be okay. My daughter may not be the next Einstein, but she’ll do fine. Hey, if I skipped Kindergarten and finally learned how to read by the end of 1st grade, then Mikayla’s situation isn’t exactly the worst in the world.

Payback will take form karmically. I’m not exactly worried. It sucks how I won’t be able to witness the event, but it’ll happen.

I’ve been home for the past few days, relaxing, spending time with the rugrat and keeping close watch. She’s had a nasty productive cough for the past few days so it was expected that she’d come down with some bug. But it’s not hell on earth as it used to be - it’s been almost 8 months since she last got whacked with an evil virus. Her immune system is working well and the 46 pound slug looks far from being miserable right now.

More to come…

Up till now, I really thought I was 34. Not once did I live my life as though as I was 33.

This is what happens when you don't give a crap about anything AND if you stink in math.

I'm celebrating being 33 today.