my first ever car!, originally uploaded by Heidi Kayla.

very pleased. Finally. My own car. It’s not like I am a very good driver or anything, it’s just that I am one step closer to prove that I can do it. Sometime I am scare of my own determination, it’s by no mean easy to pass the test, and now this. A old car need a fair bit amount of attention.

After looking at the mini and the polo, I am just not sure. The Skopelos trip showed me the beauty of the old Suzuki Jeep. I have been ride in Jason’s modern Jinmy for a bit, I quite like the height. The trip kind of convinced me that. And I like the old classic look. Ever the Jeep & Land Rover people have a problem with it’s being called jeep, it’s still my Suzuki Jeep. It’s heart and soul.

08/02/2007, originally uploaded by Kya Ang.

hmmm… A designer who takes cash… That’s me.

I have received payment for a job – cash in hand – upon my request. I
behaved like a local builder, a bit dodgy, is the taxman coming after me? Is my client going to come back and complain the page is broken? – which my kitchen is just after 6 months of brand new fitting, unfortunately the fallout was too big for me to go back to complaint to my builder. Lesson in life: never used a friend’s boyfriend as builder – classic error.

I was asking for cash mainly because I am going thought a financial spring clean and I am not going to bored you with all the detail. However, that means every single penny comes into my bank account on pay day would be account for. Rent, mobile rental, travel, gym, shopping and a big chunk goes into paying off debt, after that I am then allow to indulgence myself. It certainly is a big move for the better ever I feel like a choking teenager most of the time, seeing temptation constantly but told they are off limited.

With a more positive note, I am looking forward to debt free way of life. It is an alien life form as I don’t seem to remember I’ve ever exist in that
stage, but evolution is there for a reason, I am moving on.

So, a gentle reminder for my perspective clients, if you could, cash is
good. It made the client, designer relationship great, give me spare money for shoes and handbag, ever some extra for petrol, everyone will be happy.

03/03/2007, originally uploaded by Kya Ang.

Mother left on Saturday, after a whole week of “togetherness” I am relived to have things back to normal. I was pretty tough up the whole time, not used to having my mum around and not used to entertain others. I tried my best to give her a good time and I hope she enjoyed her stay with me. This is her first time in Europe, furthermore, in my home.

A week passed without hindered, I fitted things up to every minutes to ensure she experience the most without overwhelmed.

I was a wreck after sending her into the security area in the airport. Tear just streaming down, J gave me a big hug and comforted me. For reason beyond my understanding I felt terribly sad to see her go. We sat down for a cup of tea to clam me down and J was convinced that I was blocked emotionally with my mother. I am blocked alright, not just emotionally, mentally physically I am pretty much avoid such subject. I love my mother but I have never tell her that. In our understanding, it is just a fact, it is there and I know it. It is the same for her. J talked me into give my mum a call to tell her I love her, it’s just too much for me ever the thought. I called, mumbled a bit – very pleased you stay, etc etc – she understood and told me don’t have to say thing like those – she is waiting to board, etc etc – I wished her a safe journey home and she told me to take care of myself.

I felt little bit better afterward (party, Champaign and wine helps) – her stay gave me an aspiration to start the children book I mean to start for so long. titled: Mum visit.

Day 1 driving 10/04/2007, originally uploaded by Kya Ang.

First day of my intensive driving, arrived Abbegavanny in heavy snow, who would have imagine, I drove 4 days and passed on the fifth morning

After year and years of attempted, I have finally got my driving license, this is my sixth attempt and I can truly say that my license come with tear and sweat.

I start off my epic driving test journey in 1997, yes, you heard it right, 10 years ago. Right after the theory test became part of the Exam in 1996, roughly after I had landed on the British soil. A pitch of salt, I passed the theory eye closed. I should have know at that time I wasn’t in the right condition to learn driving. Poor foreign student living in London, convinced that it would be easier to get what was similarly difficult in her own ex-colony homeland, which incidentally have the same rule and regulation.

What made me want to learn in a barely comprehensible second language in a foreign land is beyond me. On top of that, I was in my first year in college, busy social life in the hall of residence? when did I have time?

I found time. I don’t remember much of the driving – I remember my driving instructor’s dark mustache and he was the cheapest in the area – I found him on a notice board outside an off-license near a council estate in South London – I paid just over a tenner per lesson after block booking. It’s still a mystery for me today whether he was a qualified instructor. I rang up and with great difficulty arranged an lesson – he had a strong Irish accent, me, English pronunciation in Chinese manner. I was hooked, despite not knowing what he was teaching, I liked driving, the freedom it seem to bring. We should both be grateful we made it out without losing any limb. He’s board shoulder with a warm nature, he called me luv and he never once lose his patience on me. Maybe that is why I never pass. He was too good a gentleman to tell me I wasn’t ready.

After 3 failed test, on the my last test with him, equivalent to the forth attempted in the bigger picture; I gave up. The car broke down at the test center, it’s like boarding a plane then they tell you the holiday is cancelled. I was so ready I couldn’t believe it when the car refused to
start. The examiner look to me sympathetically and gave me some advise which I didn’t hear. I kicked the tyre and called the instructor for the last time. I walked to the station with my head down and believed it wasn’t mean to be. The hardest part was when I got home I know my partner bought a bottle of mini champagne for me, I refused to drink it and he drunk it all.

And that goes the phrase one of my bloody driving.

Don’t know who is going to read this blog