Friday, August 31, 2007


... virtually.

I was engaged in a long conversation with my *lalala...*, starting from the moment he was in the car for a trip home (at about 9 p.m.) until just now.

We started texting, from the usual "Where are you?" to the more private stuff. We texted and texted and texted. And I let him know how much I missed him without saying so.

And he let me knew that he missed me too. Without saying so.

Now, wait. Was he really missing me? Or was it just lust that was driving him?

We texted each other - tons of them. And ended with some phone calls until we both run low on credits (he ran out of his).

It has been long since the last time we had that kind of conversation. I thought he didn't miss me at all.

It was great.

It felt like sex.

Thursday, August 30, 2007


I am now at home. And I don't feel happy about it.

I just spent my whole day sleeping in my room. 12 hour plus of sleep. There goes my one whole day.

Hello Night. I will be spending the rest of the hours with you.

Most people I know have their own plan for tonight. Celebrating Independence Day with friends. Going out enjoying night life. Going out with their girls.

And I am stuck at home. Alone.

Now, where are those guys when I need them?

Wednesday, August 29, 2007

Wake Up Call

I am playing the song Wake Up Call by Maroon 5 over and over again. It is piercing my heart. Yet I can't stop listening to it.

I am feeling the pain I used to feel back then. The kind of pain that wakes me up every now and then from my sleep.

I need some air. It hurts so much I can't breathe.

Remember when you calmed me down with your words? And made everything seemed OK? And I can breathe again, feeling like I was lifted from the brim of Death back into the world.

I miss you damn badly.

I need you now.

Help me.


Tuesday, August 28, 2007

I'll Have It Done. Later...

Some people asked me why I don't write in my own Mother Tongue.

Am I not proud of my own language? Duh! If you know me well, you'll know that I am one of the people who prefers communicating in my own language. Especially in English classes. Hehe... And joking around with a bunch of guys in English in Mother Tongue classes. Hehe...

Am I proud of my own self? My proficiency in English? Double duh! I am not that proficient to write in English. I still, from time to time, refer to the dictionary for lots of things. I am currently attached to the red Macmillan English Dictionary For Advanced Learners International Student Edition. No, I don't have a copy of English - Mother Tongue dictionary with me. Go find someone else.

What makes me write in English? Simply because some things are easier written in English rather than in Mother Tongue. Most things are simpler that way.

And this is the medium where I can practice my rusting English. Heck. I can't converse in English very well. I need to polish my written English so well it shines very brightly. I need to write tons of resumés for my Industrial Training programme next semester. I need to write tons of resumés to secure me a job later.

Am I not going to write in my Mother Tongue? Who says so? I have lots of things to write about. Unfinished novel (I dropped the idea of writing it since I was 15). Some comments and ideas I can only write in the language. I am now concentrating more on the latter.

Some things can't be written in English just because most of the narrow-minded people prefers arguing in Mother Tongue.

Probably because they never bother to learn English to an acceptable level where they can understand others and reply with appropriate answers.

And probably because some things can only be explained in my Mother Tongue.

Because we are so unique. In so many ways.

P/s - I read Macmillan Dictionary for fun, especially when I am really bored and nothing else could kill the boredom. Fun, and educational.

P/p/s - I was thinking of writing a blog in Mother Tongue. I'm still searching for a host for my alter ego. Because I am shallow and I'm a bikini babe (yeah, right!), and a shallow bikini babe (yeah, right!) can't have opinions.

P/p/p/s - I need to undergo series of slimming treatment to remove the excessive fat and cellulite. And dye my hair blonde so I can be a Brainless Blonde Bikini Bimbo (4B). Or 6B (Brainless Blonde Bikini Bimbo with Big Boobs). I prefer the 4B (which also can be read as Brainless Bimbo with Big Boobs, or many other variations you can come up with).

P/p/p/p/s - Yeah! All hail 4Bs. Long live 4Bs.

Monday, August 27, 2007

It's All About the Money

I slept with a terrible headache and my skin itching all over. I put on the cream prescribed by the Doctor. I didn't even read the label. Whatever. I'm itching and I need something, fast.

Anyway, I went into a deep sleep with my teddy, Jay cuddled and my pillows and mini bolster in place. And some laundry I just taken from the line, waiting to be folded, pushed to the end of the bed.

And I woke up with everything in its proper place - not on the floor.

My Roomies are sitting for a test tonight. They, plus another girl, are busy discussing. Papers on the floor and they were chit chatting. They are still discussing, only drifted away once in a while, probably because they need some break. I don't know when they started the discussion.

I choose to ignore what they are talking about. Most of the time I hear they are explaining to each other what is what and how is what. And memorising formulaes and... I'm lost.

I was replying the texts on my cellphone when I my ears caught something. Someone is asking for presents from someone. I managed to process a bit of here and there of the conversation.

A: So you want a PDA phone?
X: I asked for baju raya (new clothes for Eid).
A: That cheap? Get a new phone!
X: I ask for cheaper stuff, so I can ask for more.
A: Hey, 200 is cheap. He surely have some 200 to spend. Duh!

Well, I wasn't eavesdropping. That was pretty much what I heard.

I had my mind running for a while. Is 200 that cheap?

For people who can afford to pay some 200 bucks on not-so-important stuff, yes. 200 is cheap.

But I lived my whole life saving my pocket money for my own stuff. Back then in school I only had one buck per day per school days. I never worked a single day of my life except for a very brief period washing dishes at a small restaurant at night for 20 bucks per night. My money came from the empty stomach. Magazines, T-shirts, books. Practically everything came from days of skipping lunches at school. And people wondered where the hell did I get the money from.

I grow money tree.

Anyway, hearing those comments made my heart stopped for a while. Boy, they sure are lucky people. Getting a guy to buy you stuff.

Isn't that what guys supposed to do to their girls? Be their money machine or something?

Well, unfortunately my *lalala...* is not rich. And so did my other exes. I was/am/will be either tied to a poor guy or a cheapskate. And usually a guy who has another girl in line. I'm the second.

Guess I need a new guy. A new rich guy. Or guys. Or a Sugar Daddy.

Now, where can I get some of those?

P/s - I need at least some 100 bucks for my phone. And another 300 on food. And maybe some 200 on clothes during a sale. And another 100 on whatever I might buy without putting any thoughts on. Allowances quoted are on monthly basis. And some 500 bucks on three pairs of sneakers per year (at least).


So I permed my hair. And so you permed your hair. So what?

I don't understand this I-don't-want-us-to-have-the-same-look identity crisis she is having. Quit yupping about it, will you?

I'm talking about my sister, Paris. She is yupping about me having my hair curled, and said she needed to straighten her hair and wasted some 200 bucks (for the perm) just because I am notoriously known as the rebel, the one who wanted to be different from the others.

She spotted my new do from the pictures I uploaded just a few hours ago on my various networking accounts: MySpace, Tagged, Hi5, Ringo, Multiply. And a dear friend uploaded my picture with curly hair on Friendster. I don't know which picture she was looking at. And those pictures were taken a month ago.

Duh! If you don't want to be seen sporting the same hairstyle as mine please do so. But never say that you have to comply with me because I don't want to be like you or anyone else.

And please don't tell me how much things costs. I don't ask you to straighten your hair back and wasted your money on both curling and straightening process. If you do, don't blame me.

I don't give a bl**p what you are doing/going to do with your money and/or hair. Just keep my name out of "I did this because..." please.

I am losing my curls fast. Not that I'm saying that the place where I had my perms dome was bad. It was a good place. And a cheap one. And I love it because my hair smelled pretty sweet (fruity) right after the perming job was done and I can walk around the Mall not worrying a bit about the 'salon smell'. And yeah, I only spend some 70 bucks on my hair (plus the front fringe straightened flat). So, is it the salon's fault my hair is losing the curls fast?

Nope. If I must, I would say that my hair is from the stubborn type, just like me. My hair needs simple care for as long as I can remember. I switch shampoo frequently and use cheap shampoos and people will still say my hair is easy to manage. Duh! Blame it to stubbornness. It refuses/resists to changes pretty well.

I really think that she shouldn't waste her money on straightening her hair just to be different. It will be a huge waste of money. My hair will be back to its normal state (straight) in some few months. In a few weeks what will be left of the perms are just some very loose waves - the type of curls you get from rolling your hair with some rollers without adding chemicals and will wash off with water. THAT type of waves.

If she decided to have her hair straightened, all I want to say is "STUPID!!!"

There. That makes me feel better.

Sunday, August 26, 2007


Heck! My Friendster and MySpace accounts (plus some few others) and my Yahoo! Mail (and soon to join the group - my Gmail) are now full of junks.

My MySpace account is full of invitation of whatever. Never mind. I can always ignore those. And spams and spammers are continuously being deleted. Great. And no "Fw: Fw: Fw: Fw: Fw: Fw: Fw: Fw: Fw:" messages too.

My Friendster accounts are full of forwarded messages. Dude! Please! The "Friendster is closing" message is not real! Stop forwarding it to me! And people forwarding texts ended with "Forward this to friends or you'll have bad lucks" or "Forward this to your friends and people who reply are really your friends" or whatever. Bullshit. You don't post junks to your friends. And I am happier to delete you and end this virtual friendship than bombarding other people's inboxes and claim the title of "your friend".

And I also hate people spreading messages ended with the Prophet's words, "Spread my words..." or "Spread this, and God may bless you with his rewards..." or something similar. Dude, are you spreading the messages because you find it true/useful or are you expecting rewards for doing it?

I haven't check my Yahoo! account for some times now. Heck. I hate my sister's hobby more than the newsletters and spams more. She keeps on forwarding stuff to me and expect me to spend a lot of time reading them (or downloading the clips or songs) and give her some respond. Hell no!

And she started to forward those junks to my Gmail account, knowing that I check the account frequently. Yuck! I use the account because I hate her junks, OK? At least she stopped when I told her to. *sigh* She's scarier than those spammers.

So, people. Stop asking whether I have read your messages on Myspace or Friendster. I spend little time on those, thanks to the junks. I have my cellphone and my IMs. Do message me if you want to know whether I'm still alive or not. Or check my blog for news. Consider me dead if I don't post anymore (but please text me if you really want to know whether I'm still alive).

Saturday, August 25, 2007

Hell is Hot

Hell yeah!!! I'm sooooooooooooo excited.

I just went back from the beach. Sun burnt. Ouch! And I'm tired.

But guess what? The guy from hell himself dropped me a comment. Yeah!!!

So I'm not pretty/hot/sexy. And I missed the chance to buy his T-shirt and meet him. So there is no way I'm gonna meet him or he knowing my existence. But hey, he dropped a comment on my crappy blog! I'm more than satisfied. Now I know I'm gonna be satisfied if I can get my hands on his next T-shirt.

So who is this guy from hell?


And why am I so excited about this?

Simply because I'm a fan of his blog.

His blog?

Yeah. I don't know him. I haven't met him yet. I might have reasons to hate him later. But I love his blog.

AKAB, you just lightened up my overly brightened, sun burnt day.

Wednesday, August 22, 2007


Just a short post. I posted some of my drafts. Completed (finally!) so if you browse through the archive you will notice some posts that seemed like they never existed before. I am trying to post short stuff instead of long ones. Some people told me that I write too much. Heh :P

Last month's archive. Hmm... A lot of things happened last month, but not everything can be recorded here. Some things are better forgotten. Some are still waiting to be finished. Haha...

Note to some people (I think you know who you are and I think you know what I am talking about): I am trying. Help me, please.

Note to some other people (I don't think you're reading, but who knows?): Thanks for offering me a soft cushion to fall onto. Catch me then.

Gotcha and Don't Cha never fails to entertain me. Those people are so cool. And the Morning Crew usually brightens my day even before the sun does. Evil pranks on Gotcha and silly jokes and remarks.

Today they played the wrong recording of Gotcha. The glitch was fixed after a song. Today's Gotcha was about a girl who feel flattered over the compliments by some random guy who claimed that he and his bunch of friends drooled over her at a party. He even mentioned about the dress she wore. They flirted and he asked her out. She agreed. She even denied having a boyfriend when asked. Then the boyfriend butted in and accused her of cheating. BTW, they were dating for 3 months. The girl had some explanation to do. Haha. She shouldn't flirt the first place.

JJ and Rudy also sang their own version of Don't Cha. It was damn hilarious. Don't cha wish you boyfriend was hot like me. Don't cha wish your boyfriend has more money. And that was just the chorus. The whole song is silly and funny.

Now, anyone has the song recorded? I really want that one. Then again, any copy of their songs would be great (I only have their version of Tokyo Drift: Fast and Furious).

Monday, August 20, 2007


I finally found something that can banish my crazy crave - Rum Raisin (RR) ice cream. I bought a tub for myself. A rectangular tub filled with 1 litre (500 g) ice cream. And I bought a tub of yogurt specially for the ice cream. I need the spoon.

I ate the ice cream almost immediately after paying for the stuff I had in my hands. After a long failed search, who wouldn't? Plus, the Residence doesn't allow the students to keep electrical appliances (except for some little stuff). We don't have mini bar. And I don't enjoy melted ice cream.

I dipped the small plastic spoon into the ice cream and dig out a small portion of the smooth texture. "Yummy," was my first thought.

Wait a second. The ice cream tasted weird in my mouth. I tried to remember the last time I had the ice cream. Last year. Urghh... I couldn't recall the taste of it. Then again, I had it mixed with another flavour.

I texted Shark, telling him about the ice cream. I told him about my ice cream crave a lot earlier, and he sounded like "You wouldn't want to eat that. Again. Ever."

As expected.

Me: I'm having RR. Yay! Finally...
Him: Good for you.
Me: Yeah, but it tasted a bit weird.
Him: Told ya. It contains rum. And you know what rum is?
Me: Yeah, I know. But this one does not contain rum. It contains whey powder. And yeah, rum is derived from whey. I know that. This is not rum.
Him: I know the smell and taste of rum, OK. Both cold and frozen.
Me: Yeah, but this is not rum!
Him: Come on. I know what the thing is. It's rum. My friend worked at Baskin Robbins.
Me: This is not BR's R & R. It's Cremo's. And it is not rum.
Him: OK, whatever.

Peter and MJ who also had a taste of the ice cream told me something similar. They said it smelled like alcohol. And left an aftertaste pretty much like alcohol.

I checked the container a few times. Yeah, it was not rum. I checked on it even before buying it. I checked for the date. Nothing suspicious. Hmm...

Assuring myself was pretty easy. Assuring other people was hard. They didn't question much. But they didn't continue eating either.


Note to myself: BR's RR didn't taste weird they way I remember it. And that was like 10 years ago.


Reading this makes me laugh. True.

Note to possible foreigners: You have to understand the political scene of my Beloved Country to get that joke.

Thursday, August 16, 2007

I Hate Sleeping

I hate sleeping. Sleeping actually shaves me off of my precious time living in this world when I can really do something better than sleeping.

OK, so I lied about the shaving me off of my precious time. I only hate that part when I run out of time and I fall for a quick 5-minute doze when I really can make use of the time.

I hate sleeping when I have people with no spare time (people I love and care about only) need me to do something important. Or not very important, but since they are very busy, time is a critical factor.

I often missed messages and calls from Charlie. And usually when he got some specific time slot for me squeezed in his very busy schedule. His time for me is almost always affected by the weather, his healh level, the availability of a mode of transportation and bla bla bla. Meeting him even for a few minutes is actually hard. At some points even almost impossible. And that doesn't count my availability to comply to his scheduled time.

So, whenever possible I will always put him on top of my list of priority. Most of the time I will say no only when I have a group discussion to attend to. Weather and health level factor will usually be discarded.

But I often failed to see him when he needed whatever important stuff of his that he left in my possession. Or something he asked me to buy. I often failed to meet him and give his stuff, or worse, when he needed some time off from whatever problem his girlfriend or his stress factor is causing him. She is his main stress factor.

I missed my meeting-with-Charlie-to-hand-him-his-stuff time slot again because I was sleeping. He texted me twice, and called me 5 times. FIVE TIMES!!!

I hate it when it happened. I hate sleeping.

Now that it messed my brain up (because I hate waking up to know how I hate sleeping very much) I am now feeling some sort of dizziness creeping up into my head. I think I need some more sleep.

On another note, yeah, it happened quite a number of times when my ex-boyfriends decided to leave me. Only I was actually physically awake at those moments. And I only finally woke up when they texted me saying everything was over for us both.

Wednesday, August 15, 2007

History Revisited

For whatever reasons, I am beginning to feel like the kid I used to be.


Some people (yes, you. I know you're reading) are now mentioning Yoshi's name on a frequent basis within my hearing. Followed by some giggles.

Now, I'm not the type of girl who will get mad over tiny things like that. Sooner or later they (yes, you. I know you're reading) will stop. I hope it will end sooner rather than later.

The act of denying the whole thing will only drain me more, and on a quicker rate. I need every bit of my energy now. I will need to seek the patience I had back then in school. Unfortunately I don't have any mantra I can chant every now and then to block the voices and giggles. *sigh*

I guess I just have to play the game along with them. Maybe then they (yes, you. I know you're reading) will tone down the whole Yoshi thing on me.

At least this is no more worse than the one I had back then in school. Maybe I can say it's a whole lot better than in school. Being paired up with a total nerd I can't keep myself near for more than 5 seconds for whatever reasons is even worse than what I am experiencing now. Hey, I used to be the nerd in school, but that guy is a nerd a few degrees higher than me. I can't stand him. Having my friends (that's what they called themselves) pairing his name up with mine in front of him was a nightmare. And it evolved into a more terrible nightmare - the guy seemed like he was trying to spend more time talking to me, when all he can talk about were nothing more than brain-pinching educational matters.

Or was it just me? Whatever.

Now the history is repeating itself. But in a better version. Lucky me (yeah, right!). At least the guy is not someone I can't stand at all. And the people (yeah, you. I know you're still reading) say sorry when they think they went overboard with this whole me-and-Yoshi thing.

I need to concentrate on conserving my energies for more useful thing. La la la...

On a different note, Yoshi resembles some bunch of friends I have: spending some years in the town I was born (but not bred) in, plays basketball and chess. Kinda reminds me of Alex who were invited to join the rugby team when he was rejected from joining the Chess Club back then in Junior College.


I found an interesting site while searching for freewares that might work for my Multimedia assignment and project. Needless to say, I found lots of junks, some cool stuff and lots of sharewares that will definitely burn my whole pocket (too many holes!).

Anyway, while I was browsing for the stuff I found one software that claimed to be able to generate photomosaic. "Cool!" was my first thought.

Photomosaic is a photo made of combination of many smaller photos. Tons of them.

My multimedia project. Hmm... I dunno. Maybe I can include this stuff, but the Lecturer would expect something like a video, not a photomosaic. Photomosaic can't include text and sound, the elements we need to include in the project.

I downloaded the software. I found a link to a forum where the people were discussing on having a photomosaic contest. The dates? Back in 2005. Whoaa... I guess I'm way too late in discovering this thing.

Whatever. The example given led me to the very cool stuff I think you should give a look at. Here it is. Zoom in and wait for the images to be fully loaded.

Note: Be patient.

Tuesday, August 14, 2007


I am still stuck with the Multimedia assignment I have to submit by the end of next week. Individual project. I have to get my brain working very hard. Huhu~

A 3-minute clip. Now, how hard could that be? Just shoot a video and put some text and voilà!

Wrong! (Background sound: buzzer)

I need to come up with a project that utilises various types of media in the video. And the project must comply with one of the themes (can I really count them as themes?) provided by the Lecturer.


And there's a group project waiting.

Double hell.

Sunday, August 12, 2007


Is this news coming out too fast? Or the previous post came too late? Or what?

The guy I wrote about in the previous post, Crush, just confessed that he liked me. And that is not what shocking me.

He confessed that he liked me since we were in the First Year. And now we are in the Fourth.

I think he finally had the guts to spill the thing out when I told him that keeping everything inside might cause him to lose something that is right in front of him. Right advice, wrong time and situation. I was actually relating to my experience of losing AK, and also the story on Nina and Peter.

OK, maybe it also has something to do with the texts I put on the Skype. The "status". He had been replying to the status with texts that didn't reveal anything, but I kept on pushing. Only later we talked about the whole "keeping everything inside" and "losing the chance" thing.

He later texted me on my phone, confessing his feelings.

So, the question is answered, and I can proudly say that I can trust my instinct and I am not just some girl who thinks that the guy must like her because that's what guys always do.

OK, so what are the hints he has been dropping me since the first day we went out together? Let me see... Hmm...
  • He followed me instead of his friends at the hypermarket when we split to get our stuff.
  • He always sits in front of me when we are having meals, even though he has already pulled the chair opposing Kiddo (a friend of ours) when we are sitting at a 2-by-2 table.
  • He walks very closely to me most of the time I can remember.
  • He always stands between me and Kiddo.
  • When we were at the beach we (the three of us) lay down on the beach and took some pictures of ourselves and later he didn't even bother to move a few inches away from me (I take it as a sign that he really wished that we could be that close).
  • We took pictures of our shoes (three pairs) lined up, sitting very close is expected, but he didn't move after we finished taking the pictures (another strong sign?).
  • We were lying on the beach after taking pictures (I don't remember which). I didn't budge a bit from my position, and so was he. When we sat up we were in a position that would make people see as if he was touching my back. Or almost. That close. And he stayed put and not moving. And I couldn't enjoy watching the night sky lying down again, or else I'll be lying on his hand/arm because it was right behind me.

Pretty bold moves from a pretty shy guy. Considering that he is not a player, I don't think he would be comfortable sitting very close to a girl like me, even on a normal friendship basis. So I can safely assume that he likes me. And I was right! But I didn't expect that it started a whole lot earlier on.

I still can't believe he kept the whole thing for years. Three years. I wondered what will happen if he didn't let it out today.

Saturday, August 11, 2007


I think someone is having a crush on me.

You can say that I am being self-centered, thinking that the world revolves around me and every guy in this world loves me. I am the I-am-the-most-beautiful-princess-every-guy-will-beg-on-his-knees-to-date-me type of girl. Whatever.

I think the guy (I'll name him Yoshi) is dropping me tiny hints since the first time I went out with him (plus another guy or two). Maybe I am wrong, maybe I am not. I can trust my hunch most of the time especially when guys make the whole I-like-you-and-want-to-get-close-to-you-and-know-you-better thing obvious. I was right about my *lalala...* although I could extract a confession from him only after about a year and a half.

Back to this guy. Hmm... The signs Yoshi showed were pretty obvious. But I am not uncomfortable with it. He didn't invade my personal space. Well, actually I am pretty comfortable being around him. That's great. I hate people invading my personal space, making me feel creepy and scared and had to run away when they started to say "I like you". Yuck.

The biggest sign the guy showed was the text on his Skype, what we usually call as the "status". His text was actually a reply to mine. I noticed it.

My text was only something that reflects what I really feel about my relationship with my *lalala...*, because from my point-of-view, he was being cold towards me.

I don't think Yoshi knew the situation between me and my *lalala...*, as we are being half-attached. Not in a relationship, and not in a "not in a relationship". Complicated stuff, if I can give it a name.

I hope Yoshi won't expect much of anything from me now. I am not ready to let my *lalala...* go. Not yet. He still loves me like before, and I still love him like always. He shows me the warmth and love I need when I am at my lowest point, and that really helps me get through the coldness I thought I saw in him.

Expecting a guy to "lets just be friends for now" and "maybe later we can develop a more serious relationship" is not easy. Most of the guys I know take this as a form of rejection. Yet, many tried harder. Sorry. You're getting creepy. Get out of my sight.

Well, lets just see when will the mystery revealed itself. I am so bl**ping sure that my hunch is right - he really likes me.

Wednesday, August 8, 2007

Affected? Infected?

A few days ago Queenie screamed and/or listened to music to counter the sound I made when I laugh. I let out a special laugh for her, a laugh I successfully imitate from some annoying characters in some anime we both watched. Another roommate who shares the same name with me also imitated the laughing. We were amused by it.

For her, it is painfully annoying.

Just a few minutes ago Queenie came to my place. My ears were fully covered with the pair of Philips stereo headphones I owned since last semester. I was reading a blog of a self-acclaimed anarchist, also known as a conformist but not a rebel. The headphones were attached to my MP3 player, specially hung at the top of my locker to enable the FM signal captured by the FM radio function. Various kinds of songs went through my ears, but my mind didn't do anything to capture the words. Most of them I recalled by heart, glued through continuous exposure to them.

Queenie let out a sound I heard somewhat familiar to what I made from the previous night. I turned to her, taking the headphones off partly.

She was grinning.


She let another high-pitched laugh she used to hate. I guess it is just a matter of time before the laugh can be deemed as our official laugh.

As I am writing this post, Queenie is in her bed trying to sleep. She just let another laugh just now. I guess it is pretty addictive.