I had an event meeting today and one of our topic discussion is whether we want to have a picture for the flyer. Some of the committee members suggested to put pictures of people but it is troublesome because we need to get consent. So we decided to drop that idea. I wanted to suggest a child's drawing as the cover but I don't know how the members would react to this suggestion so I just dropped it.

And it made me recalled of my art I drawn 18-17 years ago. I was only 7-8 years old. I saw myself during an art lesson. All I remembered was I have drawn only one kampung (traditional Malay) house in the middle on of the A3 paper. Behind it was a two-hump mountain (just imagine a kid drawing a primitive mountain). There were two rocks over each other on the far left. I coloured the ground green and there were some weeds somewhere around the house. It was calm. It was peaceful. But I remembered I was very anxious for my age then. It was an assessment. I think the assignment topic was to draw a house. But I was afraid... anxious ... I didn't know whether my art was accepted or not. I don't remember what my classmates have drawn but I was just too scared to know what grades I would get. I think I got a B.

Replaying this memory makes me wanna pick some colour pencils and start drawing ...

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Crazy day.

I entered a shopping mall today and the machine that screens whether you shoplifted or not went buzzing. It was my first time entering the mall for the day and I wondered what item in my bag triggered the alarm. My bag had 2 books, sunglasses, spectacles, plastic fan, wallet and phone. So what triggered the alarm?

I thought that mall's alarm is something wrong ... so when I exited that mall, the alarm at the entrance was also alerted! Crazy ... and so I walked over to another bigger mall. And guess what? The alarm in a major tenant store in this big mall, and the alarm rang. What the hell???! It rang at three different places. Did these malls accidentally tag an invisible item that only a girl named Renee can hold it?

Thankfully, on the way back to the monorail station, the alarms in the earlier mall I have passed through didn't rang.

Phew.

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Today was punitive for my choir group, alto. The team leader was absent and because she is the only one in the group that sings the best, the group collapsed. We could not get any note correctly while singing an extreme slow song. The choir teacher made us stand throughout the whole repertoire because we had poor sitting position while singing. Even I was subjected to criticism and comment. And I, seriously, dislike to hear the comments. Just because my breathing technique was wrong, so I breathed in noisily, and the teacher commented 'it was ugly to hear that.' I was just smiling but not with shame. Why be ashamed when I get this feedback for free? I maybe ashamed years ago but now ... it's better to receive feedback. Because it means the teacher is paying attention to me when choir teacher doesn't usually have the time to pay attention to every choir member. So I should be thankful.

But one thing I really dislike is the choir teacher didn't tell me how I should improve!!! And my vocal teacher has never given me similar feedback which the choir teacher has given me. It is making me now to think to sought a different vocal teacher ...

Sigh ... I tried asking the choir teacher but he didn't reply me. T.T

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Well, I was not so depressed since my last entry about the dead dog.

And I have been filling myself with mystery shopping assignments, so I was busy. And that is good because it keeps my mind occupied, but still there were gaps in my mind where I have been overthinking of things to the point I don't want to go home.

Anyways, today I busy bodied at an expo which is promoting Malaysian made items. I spotted a sales manager who I have known from purchasing my foldable study table last year. We chatted and I busy bodied by sitting on a small stool that comes with a low rise table. The overall design was cute but it is not foldable. How unfortunate.

My next stop was traditional craft. It is a must for me to stop by since I'm hunting for things to sell online (though I don't make big profits out of it but it was fun to educate myself about things to sell on online). And I stopped at a stall that sells indigenous people's handicraft. I thought I strike the lucky star. They have traditional musical instruments too! I wanted to buy but luckily I didn't because they were not authentic. I would love to have an authentic indigenous flute. Well, I not only collect earrings but also musical instruments. Would really want to get hold of an indigenous flute. I just can't wait to play it... Anyways ... after talking to the coordinator of that stall, now I recalled that she is an unfriendly person if she was the coordinator for the stall in another expo back in 2008. I like their working idea/concept of the shop, which is an online store, to sell indigenous handicraft, but I thought the marketing strategies are not appealing.

I don't see how the strategies are branding the indigenous products. It somehow muddy its branding because of its business strategies. We all can have an online store, but marketing and branding are very important in making our store/products more visible than the others. Why am I saying this? Is it because I got pissed off I can't buy beads from them in bulk? Ok, I am on one hand because I finally found unique beads to sell online but on the other hand I HATE their customer service. I know the coordinator is like chasing a headless chicken, but still when I say these clay beads the indigenous people are make can be chip, then just listen to what I said. I bought some beads (and I don't know what to do with them - HAHA) and it took me a long time to choose the perfect beads because some beads were chip at the hole. You may not even notice it if you didn't strain your eye or being meticulous like me. But the coordinator and another volunteer kept on telling me the beads were not chip. Ok... maybe I'm just too overreacting ... the hole may not be chip but it was a mark left by the instrument to make the hole. But can't I request to put the beads in separate bags? The beads could graze each other and I don't want any damages since my products may be for resale. And the staff make one hell lot of noise. Well, my buttons got damaged when I didn't separate them. I learned from lesson. Damn that staff.

Why did they give me such a bad impression? That was because back in 2008, everyone who approached the store was shooed away. Yes, we were shooed away. I was glad to see someone selling traditional items, so I went to approach and ask something about productions. And a female .. (ah! it was an Indian female) answered me rudely that NO NO WE DON'T WHOLESALE BLA BLA BLA. I didn't even ask that! Shortly I noticed, she was doing this practically to almost everyone who approached the store.

Wow... but I may do earrings out of that beads ... don't know ...

I will be attending a plushie making workshop. =)

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I have been on winning streaks for the last few weeks in Scrabble on Facebook. Because I won too many times, I have lost interest in playing scrabble at the moment. I need a break from it for a while to regain my interest back.

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At the beginning of June, I spotted a dead dog in a a green area with tall grasses at the corner of my housing estate. It was a secular place and no one will spot the carcass like I did if they are not on foot. But I saw the dead brown dog, stiff, lying among the tall grass. I looked at it pitifully. I wondered how did the dog die. Did it die of hunger? Did it die of cold? How did it die at this spot? Why was the dog on the spot? Did it walk half way and fall to the ground?

I have a lot of questions ....

But the stinking smell deter me from looking longer on the dead dog. I kept on walking ...

I was expecting to see bright red flesh rotting in the grass, but I only saw white bones where the huge brown dog had once laid. My eyes won't take off the spot. The rain water flows over the bones like they were naturally embedded in the earth.

Where was the flesh I imagined? I didn't expect to see bones after 2 weeks. I didn't expect to see bones ...

I feel so sad for the dog. No one knows where it died except me.

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