28-year-old mummy to an amazing 1-year-old baby Anggun who I secretly believes favor her daddy more than me but of course, I won't admit that to him. Entrepreneur, environmental scientist, go-getter.
Apa ni..asyik-asyik cakap pasal THE day. Pi bagi abis study dulu.
Terkena tempias sekejap sebab two of my close friends told me they were getting married (not to each other! haha) on my birthday. Can't wait to go to their wedding.
Oh wait. Is it the phase people are talking about when one of your friend starts to get married and it kinda triggers a chain reaction and soon everyone in your circle of friends are married?
Anyways, was wondering, if people in this century dress up as in the Victorian times, wouldn't it be fun? The corset-thingy is not so fun, that's like self-torture, but what's so different with women going under the knife to get boob jobs, Botox and the whole shebang anyway.
Though there's the downside about how femininity is celebrated purely based on the aesthetic value, how women back then were not as empowered as today's women, and a whole string of other arguments, I still think women during that time look so glamorous, so classy. Women with higher status in the status cover up their body, and even the glimpse of the ankles are considered naughty.
Now, see where we are? I really truly believe that the culprits who change this perception of dressing up and being attractive are men. Show some legs! A little bit of cleavage is fine, love, well maybe more. Yep, more is definitely better. At the end of the day, it's free will la kan, people do whatever they want to do, but it worries me seeing teenagers as young as 13-17 years old on my little brother's Facebook posting up pictures wearing practically just a bra while posing in a suggestive manners which have hormone-driven boys who had just reached puberty commenting and liking these kinds of pictures like crazy. And the young girls, their sense of self-esteem in the process of taking form, got the impression that to get boys' attention and affection, they should all turn into whores with extra topping of bitchiness.
SIGH.
Got carried away. As always. Sebenarnya nak tunjuk baju cantik tu ja. Hehe. Later!
I'm quite a crappy friend, in terms of so liat to catch up through the phones and the internet (nothing beats face time), but I've noticed that I've been especially crappier this year. I forgot a good friend's birthday this year just because that friend is not on Facebook anymore and there's no reminder on the top right corner to prompt me, even though mine doesn't went forgotten.
Seeing some familiar names on my wall today, wishing me well for my birthday, names with memories that make me smile attached to them, I realize that I should not let these people slip away. Lucky for me, I got some pretty low maintenance friends, ones that allow us to pick up where we left, no matter how long that might have been. I miss them. =( (Moon, you know I'm talking to you!)
I'll take care of these relationships soon. First I need to get my ish together. Hopefully by then, they'll still be there.
But this right here, this, completed my day. I can go to sleep now.
Like she pointed out, I rarely share intimate details of my life with people, even close friends, but this awesome dudette is among the ones that I would go to whenever there's things that need to be told. Sometimes when the issue at hand gets too tough and opening up gets too hard, she'll be the one finding me and I'll be spilling everything out to her in no time. Yeah, she's awesome liddat. =)
Something doesn't feel right. Like a sinking feeling tugging at your heart but you can't put your fingers on the why.
Sometimes I wish my sensitive nature is not so acute. So that I can stroll by without having a care in the world. That way I wouldn't have to go through feeling something is going to go wrong before that something wrong actually happens, or at times, actually exists.
It's my birthday for heaven's sake. Let's blame it on the cloudy weather and move along with studying for the final exams, shall we?
Never knew there's such beautiful beach so close to home. I've been led to believe that there isn't any well-preserved beaches along the Malacca's Strait anymore. Look what I've been missing all this while. Feels like taking the next flight available, head home, grab my mom and little brother and make our way to Pulau Payar; if only Monopoly money is legit.
I was telling Encik that there's a famous one-of-a-kind activity here on this island, that tourists look forward to: feeding the sharks. And he started shooting questions right away like, "You mean, wild sharks? How big? Which kind? Is it safe?"
And when I prodded that the reason he was asking so many questions is because maybe he is probably a tiny bit afraid? he started accusing me of being obsessed with sharks. Hehe. I know you are just trying to take care of me. Right. ;)
Well, not obsessed. But I'm fascinated by it. It's not that I'm void of any fear towards this creature, I do fear them, as shown by my overdramatic reaction during my encounter with them in Perhentian, but at the same time, I'm captivated by their being that the thought of getting close to them is thrilling. But I'm not crazy about being stuck in a cage with fresh meat and then thrown into the sea full with hungry Great Whites. That level of insanity is beyond me.
To give you a clue of what the shark feeding on Pulay Payar looks like, here's some pictures I found on the net :
"Why can't you be excited about cute fishes like Nemo? Nemo's cool. They're my favourite."
"Nemo's too tiny. I like bigger fish."
"What about parrot fish? We've seen huge parrot fishes in Perhentian. And they are colorful too. You like colors, don't you?"
I can't imagine what he'll say once he sees the pictures above. Oh and another fun fact, I read in one of the travel blogs that people are advised to bury their toes in the sand while feeding the sharks, because they might bite, mistaking the toes for tiny fishes.
One thing for sure, if I see one bigger than me swimming in my direction, I don't care if it's a Blacktip Reef, I'll be running towards the beach, no chance in hell I'm staying in the water.
I have this habit of reading a magazine from back to front; don't ask me why. Maybe I was saving the best part for the last, I'm not sure.
But one thing for sure, I would always look forward to read the horoscope part. It's not like, I would base the next days on my life based on what was written in the column, but it's pretty interesting to see what would actually appear on the page versus of what's going to happen.
Take this for example:
"Der 16.6 ist ein guter Tag fuer Veraenderungen- und am 21.6 gibt's im Job eine riesige Chance. Zeigen Sie, was in Ihnen steckt!"
Basically it says, 16th June would be the day for making that change (whatever that means; I bought the magazine later than the date so doesn't matter) and on the 21st of June, there'll be a huge opportunity to prove myself in work-related field.
You see, I know it's not wise to put 100% belief that the alignments of the stars and moons could predict your future, as it it the business of God and Him alone, so when I read this last week, I tried to look at it in a positive way, that I should give my 100% in whatever I'm working on right now, no slacking etc.
So when I met my professor today and he told me that tomorrow, a professor from Muenster (which happened to be the one that I met at Asma's convo last month) would come to visit and I have to explain what we are doing right now in the lab, I thought nothing of it; other than, uh-oh, I really should prepare well tonight for tomorrow, like pumping up the necessary vocabs in my brain.
Until I was on my way home, it struck me that tomorrow's going to be the 21st.
When I was younger, I remember when our family got home late at night after a long road trip, or just for a dinner around town, I would feign sleep. I suppose at first it started with real sleep (I doze off real easy in a moving car), but once the car came to a halt or the engine stopped, I would be awake again. Being such a lazy bum to walk the distance from the car to my room, I would pretend to still be asleep, and my father would carry me, careful not to wake me up, and put me in my bed so that I could peacefully continue my slumber. I think he knew I was awake, or partially awake, but he never said anything. As I got older (and heavier to carry), my OCD-ness would not only make me wake up and walk by myself but first headed to the bathroom to wash my feet and brush my teeth before jumping into bed.
When I was in school, every time a big exam was around the corner, like the year-end exam, he would ask me after I had completed my prayer if I had extended my doa' to the rest of the class, for God to ease the exam for them too. The first time he asked that, I remember asking why should I do that, I wanted to get the first place in the whole class. And he explained to me the importance of not being "busuk hati" in whatever it is we do. After that whenever he asked me that question, I would say that I've made the doa.
I remember him always being friendly and nice to the foreign laborers who came to collect our garbage in that stinky garbage truck. They would come early in the morning, and whenever he was home, tending the plants, he would make it a point to make a conversation with them, hearing them talk about life and work and anything at all, with their broken Malay. Sometimes he would offer them cold plain water. I secretly made it a point to notice which glass they drank from and would try to avoid using it. What an asshole I was. Of all of them, I remember one particularly more than others, perhaps because I was home a lot (post-GMI) during his working stint. He was from Nepal, working to save for his wedding, his sweetheart waiting for him back at home. About 2-3 months after my father passed away, my mom moved back home, having spent the whole time at my grandma's. Ibu told me that the Nepalese guy asked her about my father, having not seen him for quite some time.
My favorite memory of us together is those times when I have a room to myself in his office. He let me turned it into my art workshop, in which I mostly just fooled around in, experimenting mostly with papers; papier marche, paper making, origami, pop-ups and stuff. After Maghrib prayers, I would follow him to the office just so I could be in the room. When he was done with his work, he would come check on what I was working on. I think he was misled to believe that I have some sort of artistic talent, like him, who was gifted in drawing and painting. He even bought me that drawing stand, that real artists use to put on the drawing pad vertically up.
Once my brother brought back his exam paper in Pendidikan Seni, in which he has to express his 'arty vision' in form of geometrics, he drew a single square. I remember him showing that to my dad and we all had a laugh. Another incident, I was on the phone with him (I was already in Germany at that time), and he asked me whether I still practiced on drawing comics and cartoons, insisting that I shouldn't stop practicing, saying that he saw talent in me in that direction. I was like, sorry to disappoint you Papa, but I think that artistic gene of yours just skipped a generation. ;p
He repeatedly told me that the rule of thumb is not to go with any guy named Roy or Zack. Papa, of all my 24-years of life, I'm proud to tell you that I never came in contact with a single Roy, thank God for that. I think they are the extinct type now, so no worries. As for Zack, I only know one guy who goes with that name, only with a slightly retarded spelling, and he's an actor so safe to say, I won't get near that circle, so yeah no worries with the Zacks either.
In his world, I am The Princess (only second to my mom, who is The Queen), and he had always treated me like one. He never hurt me, but the look of disappointment in his eyes whenever I did something wrong was just as hurtful as a physical disciplining. Because of him, I have a pretty solid idea of how I want to be treated and should be treated by the man in my life; with utmost respect, deserving of all attention and love. And for that reason I think he would have approved it if I were to spend my lifetime with Encik Fudye.
I think they both would have enjoyed each other's company. They would have gone on fishing trips together, enjoyed an occasional cigar/smoke together, went on a late night teh tarik outing watching wrestling on giant TV screen at mamak.
I used to bite my lips and held my tongue whenever I heard someone saying how he/dread calling his/her father. Inside I screamed that it's unfair, these ungrateful people who have their dad but make calling up their old man sounds like a chore. I never let a week went by without calling mine at least twice. Why don't I get to keep my dad? Of course, that bitterness is mellowed over time.
He bought me my first glue gun for my art projects when I was in Sekolah Rendah and I even brought it here to Germany. Last year, it went kaputt and I went berserk trying to fix it. I was frantic. I bought a screwdriver, pried it open, tried everything to bring it to life again, but it stayed dead. I couldn't accept it, because that thing held so much meaning to me. But to hold on to material things that connect me to the memories of him is just not healthy. And a bit crazy. Memories won't be lost by letting go. That's an important lesson I've learned. The art of accepting and letting go.
So I did not miss Father's Day this year as I had for the past years. On purpose, of course. But you know what? Starting this year, I'll celebrate it as I had did before. Even though I can't send cheesy greeting card anymore, I'll be thankful for ever having him in my life. He is one of the reason of the person I aspire to be.
1) My to-do-list is growing and all I want to do is just sleep this rainy weather off.
2) Or do sudoku and origami all day long while watching Shark Tank.
3) Chances are I won't do all of the above today.
4) But I will do them tomorrow. Today's Friday, Rebecca Black, sing it!
5) In Oregon, Switzerland and Netherlands, you can actually buy a prescription to end your life. Basically it's legal to commit suicide through medication under a doctor's supervision.
6) Apart from homicide, is there anything illegal in Netherlands?
7) The documentary on the suicide made me cry. The sadness of the whole situation is too overwhelming.
8) "My life has ended long ago. (chuckles) I just want to exit it." The saddest quote that is stuck in my head.
9) Now every time I see elderly people who can barely walk, with tubes coming out of their nose, nevertheless still pushing their cart around and doing their groceries alone, I get a massive urge to cry.
10) I want to eat murtabak and karipap so badly. Never have I felt so fond towards this food before.
11) I will make them tomorrow, if the urge is still there.
12) I miss my mom and my brother and my whole family. Not being able to go back this summer is such a bummer.
13) After reading about Alice and her bucket list (thanks to Twitter community for bringing the attention to something worthwhile this time), I went through mine which I have forgotten for quite some time now, and discovered that I can cross off one item from it : 'Travel to Italy with Fudhail.' When I wrote that down 3 years ago, I thought we would have to wait like 10 years to be able to do that. Terima kasih ibu bapa mertuaku ;D
14) I just wish I could broach THE sensitive matter gracefully. Chances are, if I did, it would just be so awkward that I would wish I've never brought up about it in the first place.
15) My room is in a state of the grandest mess like you wouldn't believe. Arrgh.
I don't know why every now and then, I still believe that guarding my thoughts from you would be a good idea. Like I'm doing you a favor by sparing you the trouble to dwell in my emotional mess; all my (sometimes misguided) worries and fears in all their glory. I should have thought of that 5 years ago. It's too late now, you're in too deep.
My effort in holding everything in usually lasted not more than 15 minutes into our conversation. And it took you half the time to make everything falls into place again. You would say the single most rational thing that has been there right in front of me all along but I've somehow failed to see it. My train of thoughts navigate in the most peculiar ways.
You let me indulge in discussing about things I'm obsessed with, and I'm capable of being obsessed with a lot of things at any given time, like Machu Picchu that you now know all its history and architecture as much as I do (note : we're still not over the dispute of who has the better engineers, the Incas or the Egyptians). That is dedication.
For pulling me out of the rut today, thank you. I'm running out of thankyous to offer I probably have to let you be Troy next time and I'll be Hector (no promises that I'll stick to the script though, Hector might just not die).
Another thing to add on my to-do-list this year : Swim with dolphins.
I've just watched the new video from the Narvaez's family and guess what? They went swimming with the dolphins!
I found myself smiling all the way through the end of the video, partly because of the dolphins, partly because of the chunky baby Eliana. I can't help it, the girl's so adorable it's deadly. Every time I see Eliana doing one of her antiques, with her super chubby cheeks, and beautiful smile, my hormones just went haywire, I swear that my estrogen level just shoot straight through the roof! SIGH. No, I will not succumb, no baby making until I'm into my thirties. I need to accomplish being a lot of other things first, before being a mom.
So anyways, watching the video reminded me of the Dolphin's Lodge in Batam Island which is just like around the corner! The site was last updated in 2003, so I'm not sure if it is still operating but I'm keeping my fingers crossed! (<-- it's just an idiom, get over it) It costs around 120 Singapore Dollar, which is about RM 300, which is super cheap! Anywhere else, it would have costed at least 200 USD so I'm totally putting this in my list for this year.
