I know I have not been writing here often enough and although my ever handy reason of being busy is obsolete now, I still am guilty of not updating.

Well, another excuse reason I could probably give is that I have been updating my other blog instead. Go head over when you don’t see anything here and read that instead.

I know, it has been recently littered with some advertorials, but hey, I need to feed myself, right and your support to increase views (thus increasing payouts) is needed. Pretty please?

Anyway, unlike some others who really write like they do for adverts, I try very hard to incorporate some of my personal stories and make the product I am talking about personalised. One teeny problem though, is I tend to write too many words; sometimes almost double the required number; and being a Malaysian, feeling kiasu deleted some of those words. Cause don’t want to benefit them ma…

The latest post I did on beautiful homes is one such. I rambled on about life in the UK and then deleted it. But unlike some of the products that I have written about, this one does truly reflect something that I like.

Even though it has been almost a horrifying decade now (I’m getting so much older!) I still could remember the times I spent as a student in the UK. And when you say student, the image of a penniless, struggling to maintain her budget young girl comes into mind. The one thing I remember vividly is forcing myself walk to and from the University every day. I HATED walking, simply too lazy to do so (although the exercise should be doing my expanding waistline good), more so when you do it during the dreary wintry months.

Anyway, the only thing that I enjoy during these walks was looking at the the fascinating UK homes. Well, the housing area that I passed through wasn’t really a posh area, but some of the houses were very nice.

I would often imagine the life of people living in these houses (being the day dreamer I am) and hoped that I could live in a house something like that, too.

So, when the opportunity (or assignment, whatever you call it) came into my dashboard, I took a look at the website and all these memories came back. Memories of UK houses, especially those Irish cottages that my friends and I visited were so amzingly beautiful.

OK-la, probably having to live in a concrete jungle for 18 years already, we were like kinda city girls in a kampung, but the idyllic, slow life there will be tempting to anyone who has experienced the terrible city life.

Anyway, bringing myself back to reality, I know I would not be able to have one of those houses – unless I could marry one mat-salleh and go and live there.

But then again, I might miss being in the city that time, right?

The grass is always greener on the other side, that’s what they say.


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