Bulletproof

Kahwin

Sekarang ni kalau balik kampung jumpa orang tua-tua mesti soalan sama ja depa nak tanya, "Haa yang ni bila nak langsung ni?" sambil senyum bermakna.

Tok, kalau tok tak sabaq tengok Atiqka kahwin, Atiqka laaaagila berganda tak sabaq dari tok hihihi.

Kalaulah boleh jawab sebegitu.

Oh tok-tok sekarang walaupun tak ada facebook, layan facebook anak-anak mereka jugak rupanya. "Oh tu la ada tengok gambaq kat fesbuk haritu." Sigh. Lupa pulak pernah add kawan-kawan sekampung dan adik-beradik bau-bau bacang. Rasanya ada gambar yang kurang appropriate pernah diupload. Fine lepas ni kena lebih berhati-hati.

The photos I've uploaded I won't even consider showing to more than half of the friends on my list. When put it that way, it's weird to wrap my head around it. I know not many of them even bother what I'm up to so they'll probably just leave my profile alone but still. It's pretty weird. Facebook is fast becoming a gray area, devoid of privacy despite its privacy setting, best avoided these days. A Facebook phone, Zuckerberg? No thanks.

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Bloody

One of the more thoughtful things someone could do to me is not to get bloodily (literally) hurt in my presence. Yesterday my mom cut her finger badly in the kitchen; the cut was pretty deep, blood was streaming out steadily from it. She asked me to put a bandaid on it, but blood kept gushing out so it was hard for the bandaid to stay put, harder for me to focus. There were lots of screaming and shouting that the commotion made my grandma, who was in the bedroom, rushed out and specifically asked me if everything's ok.

No point in guessing, between me and my mom, who was screaming the loudest because of the cut.

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Lesen

Esok start proses ambil lesen. 5 jam dengar ceramah. Tried thinking of ways to weasel my way out of this since I've already taken the computer test (and passed!) ages ago. Oh well. Bring some book to doodle.

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Deutsch

Apa gunanya tulis German language dalam resume kalau when the time comes, you're not willing to step up? But the thought of being the one responsible for bridging of people who do not speak a common language well, simply put, it scares the shit out of me. Plus, the qualified friend for this kind of stuff is not available so it might mean I have to do this alone which is 100 times scarier. Yes, I'm that chickenshit I don't want to do it alone.

Not sure of how bad (or good) their English is, still in the dark of the scope of the visit (if there'll be a formal meeting or something which means I'm doomed), and haven't given my final answer yet but hey, this might just be the break that'll be it.

Sometimes you just have to fake it until you make it. Who knows where this will lead. *cakap untuk sedapkan diri*

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Bell Jar

Read the novel for the first time and what surprised me was how normal she was at the beginning. Which offers the possibility that we all are not that far away from the edge after all. Found out that she first published the book under a nom de guerre; and a bulb lights up in my head.

I can relate to her frustration of her inability to write though our reasons are miles apart. She can't find it in her to put the words together because of her depression; I can't seem to find the right medium to channel the words to. Writing in my own privacy, just for my own sake, without any audience, lacks its certain appeal, that in the end I've always found myself dragging the .doc and dumping it into the Trash can (yes, I'm on team Apple). Feels like a twisted practical joke the world is playing on me that my boyfriend might not be far off from being right on this one particular thing which has been a long-run debate between us; that I might enjoy attention more than I like to admit. Pffft.

Perhaps if I write now while believing that it'll get published later, way later once I'm long gone, that might ignite the fire within me to write, and to be truly honest in my writing. By that time, no harm could be done, everyone in the story I wrote will be dead as night, and nobody will care to find out who the real person behind the made-up names of the characters. Who knows I'll win some post-humous award or some shit like that. In case the heirs of the characters decided to be assholic opportunists, suing over distress caused by the story, the money could go to shut their mouth up. Whatever, I'll be too dead with more pressing matter to deal with at that time anyway. In any case, everybody wins. No?

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Maal hijrah

Read on Facebook that a friend my age might have gone to perform her hajj this hajj season. At the age of 24. I kept rolling the thoughts over and over in my head and I still can't grasp the enormity of her decision. Clearly we are on very different pages of our lives despite the same age. The thought of performing hajj at this age never even have once crossed my mind and it made me ponder on the gap between me and the said friend and Him. I am forced to reevaluate my fights and it made me feel so small.

I hope I won't loose sight of the bigger picture. Here's to trying to be the better version of us.

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New blog?

I'm getting tired of this one. Thinking of starting anew.

The Cool Parents

While queueing to get to the top of Eiffel tower, a young couple in their mid-20s together with their son and daughter got into the line right behind us.

The son must have been around 5 years old and the daughter is probably about 3 years younger. The parents are the epitome of coolness; father sporting a 3-day-old unshaven beard with skinny jeans and a pair of leather jacket, wearing the standard black-rimmed glasses for geeks paired with a grey beanie hat, the mother working the very 'in' pixie haircut. Notice the slightly more meticulous observation on the father rather than the mother. Guilty as charged.

It's pretty clear what caught my eyes, but what's more interesting is the conversations that caught my ears. The parents treated every question asked by the son like an adult; no baby-talk, oh no way, and every question is replied by a series of questions which invited the use of logical thinking which led the son to the answer of his initial question on his own. Bravo for the good parenting skill.

Conversation 1:

"Daddy why don't they allow dogs up the Eiffel tower?"

"Why do you think?"

"Maybe because the dogs might poop..but what if the dogs don't poop?"

"How do you know they won't? What if you brought them up there, and they poop, what then, you pick it up and put it in your pocket until you get down?"

"But daddy it's sad if people have to leave their dogs waiting down here.."

"Who cares."

Conversation 2:

"Daddy what happens when you die?"

"Nobody knows for sure, it's a mystery."

"Can we be something else when we die? Like a birdie?"

"I can't say."

"But if we can, can I be a birdie and you be a daddy birdie and mommy be a mommy birdie?"

"Deal."

There's more but I can't seem to recall them all. I will try to keep that in mind when the time comes; nurture logical thinking and encourage inquisition in a child and make them wear cool, matching outfit with me or the dad. Yeah.

Do You Want the Truth or Something Beautiful?

It's almost 2 in the morning and I still haven't started on what I'm supposed to do. Mentang-mentang la jumpa internet, wajiblah selesaikan apa-apa yang penting dahulu, seperti meng-Facebook.

Seperti biasa la minggu-minggu awal kat Malaysia ni, culture shock sekejap. Cehh. Menahan diri dari complain banyak sangat since I'll be staying here for good and dey tambi, macam tak biasa plak kat Malaysia? Jangan nak mengada pulak. Source of aggravation : salesgirls yang tak ikhlas melayan orang (kalau tak ikhlas cakap 'Welcome' dan 'Thank you, bye' tak payah cakap langsung boleh tak?; itu belom lagi salesgirls yang akan pandang kita atas bawah kalau masuk kedai yang upscale sikit), cashier yang muka macam tengah sembelit (mungkin betul dia sembelit), tak boleh nak lintas jalan suka hati sebab kereta-kereta yang memang macam nak bunuh orang macam dalam cerita horror 'The Car' tu, akak kat Mara yang layan orang macam kita ni bebudak retarded, cuaca yang super summer jadi tak boleh layering banyak sangat, takdak public transport yang reliable. Yang last tu paling sedih sekali.

So benda pertama kenala amik lesen.

Tapi apa-apapun home is where the heart is and despite everything, I'm happy to be back. Any doubts, regrets and fears all fade away once the warm humid air reached my lungs upon descending the stairs of the plane at LCCT airport. Perhaps in another alternate reality it would be better off had I made different choices, but in this concrete reality, everything turns out as what had been planned for me, which is as perfect as what God had intended it to be.

Accepting 'takdir', as I've learned, makes moving on far easier. Though I'm still in slight denial when it comes to certain 'truths' I've recently learned, I think I'm in the process of getting there.

Matter of the Heart

What is straight? A line can be straight,

or a street, but the human heart, oh no,

it's curved like a road through mountains.

Tennesse Williams

Raya Haji 2011

Every end marks a new beginning.

So this nagging feeling of anxiety has no solid ground, basically. Well, to a certain extent it kinda does but to put all the senseless dissection (which I have done countless times these past few days in my mind) into words will take up more time and I'm kinda short with that.

Went back home to unpacked bags. Mom's been sleeping all day long for the past two days. Hibernation bugs have been catching up onto her. Now she knows.

Has to finish up some packing and finalizing the tickets and everything now.

Oh and yeah, I did cry like a crybaby during makan-makan earlier this evening, and being an adult, not a baby, it's a rather ugly sight, I have to say. Le sigh.