kerana dirimu bergitu berharga

Kat U dulu aku berlakon teater as part of the coursework. The whole batch did, of course, berlakon dan di sebalik tabir apa bagai. I played Sir Toby in Shakespeare's Twelfth Night. I was going for the Jester's part, but I am glad I landed Sir Toby's part instead, because the jester in that play was no idiot. He was one, smart dude, with wonderful words of solemn wisdom. It was a tough part to play, man! And I don't envy Raha for getting that part. I think, I was great. When we watched a VCR tape produce by BBC of the same play, I realized we all got the costume, the hair, the energy, to perfection.

Oh, I also played a rapist who hanged himself in the end. I was good. I was so good, I impressed my friend's dad, who is a film director and he offered me a part in his tv drama.which I turned down, sebab budak gemok like me takkan jadi star in a local tv drama kan? Woh... demand!

No lah, kerja cikgu mana bleh buat kerja lain on the side, masa tu.

Menyesal taw?

The only thing aku tak suka about berlakon teater ni, kalau tak wat homework la kan, orang kata, nampak sangat la awak tu tak berapa bijak sangat. Her her her...

Sebagai contoh, satu-satunya kesilapan dalam dialog yangaku buat ialah, I mistook valour the fabric for valor the courage. And I mispronounced it during the actual play. And it was on tape. There forever for posterity.

So, mengambil contoh dari kesilapan saya inniew... untuk cik adik-cik adik cantey maneys yang bakal jadi model produk Lore@l kat tv tu, please lah, do your homework, senaklah, dengar korang keep saying the slogan wrongly.

Because You're Worth It...

Sebutan 'worth' yang betul is seperti berikut;

Gunakan bunyi 'th' nipis seperti dalam sebutan perkataan 'think' or 'thank' dan bukan yang tebal seperti dalam perkataan 'the' atau 'then'.

Gheti?

Sila buat semakan lanjut di laman sesawang ini

Harap cantik je, tapi benda mengong cam tu pun tak tau, tak anggun la, dey!

Dahlah kena tuduh racist lagi tu...

Baca artikel ini


Baik aku tido kan? Merepek je...

It's my party and I'd cry if I want to,
Cry if I want to,
CRY if I want to...

You would cry too,
If it happened to you....

bow dough

Pernah tak, masa kecik dulu, bila kita dapat baki duit kita dari pekedai, kita ucapkan 'thank you' instead of 'terima kasih' terus kena ejek balik oleh pekedai tu?

Bukan nak puji the merits yang kita beradab, masih ucap terima kasih dan pada masa yang sama, sudah mula berusaha mempraktikkan bahasa kedua yang dipelajari dengan yakin walaupun masih begitu muda. Kutuk lagi... every time!

Now that I am older, how I wish ke government had made it compulsory to learn a third or fourth language, preferably local, sort of like the syllabus used by international schools. Wouldn't it have been wonderful if everyone can read, write and speak everybody else's language as well as a native speaker? How it would have been for me today, if I had been made to learn all these wonderfully diverse languages?

An excerpt from her comment;

"Aku cuma sedih sebab bahasa tu tak salah apa pun...pemikiran mereka je yang salah mengintepretasi. Kita nak bahasa dia, masalahnya kita adopt and adapt sekali budaya mereka yang salah tu dan menghukum pada bahasanya. Bahasa tiada kena mengena dengan jati diri...it is within oneself. Bahasa melambangkan bangsa tapi mempelajari bahasa lain bukan bererti kita juga bertukar menjadi bangsa lain. Kalau tengok budak yang rosak akhlak tu, bukan semua pandai English pun...takde kena mengena!"

My thoughts exactly, no one else could have said it better.

While we are at it, think of all the technologies that originated from the so-called negara penjajah, which includes the political blueprint and education system and all the technological breakthroughs and advances. Now, imagine having to give up everything.

Kita kan Melayu? Melayu jati mana boleh guna teknologi barat? Jangan belajar bahasa mereka tu. Jahat. Penjajah! Budaya tak elok. Simpang malaikat 44!

I don't claim to know everything, but this has got me to thinking, kalau orang-orang bodoh ni berpendapat dengan mempelajari bahasa tersebut menjadikan kita manusia tak bermaruah, do you think that it is also fair to assume that the thousands of English teachers who are teaching the language within our education system in all levels of education, consists of people with loose morals?

Can anyone explain to me in minute details whether these epidemics; Mat Rempit Junior / Mat Rempit / Bohsia / Bohjan / buang anak kat tong sampah is in anyway associated to the colorful culture of the Westerns that we know today?

Hakikatnya, masih ramai lagi orang Melayu yang miskin, menyalah ertikan sunnah Rasul dalam hal harta duniawi dan akhirat ni, so kena keep on scraping a life each day sampai ada yang abaikan the importance of love and attention kepada anak-anak kecil yang sedang membesar dalam jagaan mereka. While I am not saying semua Malay parents are like that, I can't deny the fact yang bilangannya yang buat macam tu agak ramai, kerana from what I see today, it is obvious to me that the number yang mengabaikan anak-anak dalam ertikata perhatian dan didikan (tak payah cakap hal agamalah; just assume I am talking about didikan dalam hal kasih sayang, perhatian ibu bapa dan nilai-nilai murni) is quite a huge one berdasarkan bilangan remaja Melayu yang rosak akhlak.

Sebagai contoh paling mudah, bukan berniat mengutuk mereka yang tinggal di flat, tak semua yang macam ni, tapi ini apa yang saya sendiri perhatikan.

A flat is like a huge bee hive where everyone assumes that everyone is taking care of the young. Tapi hakikatnya, iya ke, macam tu?

Balik kerja, tentulah letih, kepala pun selerak, seselerak rumah yang sempit tu. So, lebih tenang kalau anak-anak tukang semak rumah tu keluar berkawan sementara kita berkemas dan later on boleh rehat tanpa jeritan hiruk-pikuk anak-anak.

Bila ditanya, mana Nurul (a 10 year old girl) ni, dah kul 10 tak balik umah ni?
Ada tu, kat umah kawan dia mana-mana.

Dalam hati aku, confidentnya mak dia. Biar betul.

Baru 10 dah takde curfew, ingat kalau dia dah 15, 16, 17 time remaja dah mula miang, gatal etc and a phase where they start to experiment on everything, rasanya nak ke lagi dengar cakap mak bapak pasal curfew ni?

Learn the language, adopt the technology and know how for the good of our country. Itu saja. Sebagai ibu bapa, didik anak pasal akhlak la. Nilai-nilai murni. Bukan semua ilmu tu dipalajari di sekolah or melalui leteran. Most of the time, nilai-nilai murni is better taught through example, bila anak-anak observe, their sponge-like nature will readily absorb everything; good or bad. Tapi masalahnya kalau banyak bad dari goodnya, macamana budak-budak kecik ni nak grow up into level-headed adults? The parents pun mereng...

Back to the issue at hand, selepas pelaburan berjumpah jutaan ringgit untuk make sure that wawasan yang satu ni will take off from the drawing board, why sacrifice the possibilities in the advancement of the nation just so one selfish bastard (or a group of of his cronies as well) can feel good about himself for abolishing something as valuable? Kenapa orang yang sepatutnya memperjuangkan dan menegakkan wawasan ni nak back down? Tak nak make a stand? No passion for it? Hello, all these teachers dah pergi training apa bagai, how about OUR passion?

Granted it is taking more time than planned tapi bukankah semua perubahan tu mengambil masa? Regardless whether it is a good or a bad change, it takes time. Just make a stand. Especially in this case, the intended impact will take an especially long time to materialize, especially dengan semua pembangkang idea ni terus buat serangan bertubi-tubi.

Please, stay your ground, masa depan negara kita dan anak-anak kita depends on it.

So here we are, bakal mengorbankan PPSMI over kepincangan ibu bapa dalam melaksanakan their fundamental responsibilities?

The audacity of our people... not shocking at all, tapi amat menyedihkan.

Anda sangka orang Melayu saja yang ada masalah kalau tak pandai bahasa ini? Di sini saya ada satu cerita untuk dikongsi bersama.

Pada suatu hari, ketika saya menghabiskan waktu cuti sekolah pada hujung tahun lepas, saya telah membawa kereta adik saya ke sebuah bengkel membaiki kereta untuk memperbaiki sistem penghawa dingin kenderaan milik adik saya itu. Dalam memerhatikan salah seorang mekaniknya bekerja, saya telah memulakan perbualan dengannya.

Me : Ah Chai, dari mana belajar skill baiki kereta ni?
Him : Dari Birmingham (atau mana-mana bandar di UK)
Me : Jauhnya awak belajar baiki kereta. Betul ke ni?
Him : Betullah, kak...
Me : Ada institusi khas ke, kalau nak belajar baiki kereta kat sana?
Him : Tidaklah, saya pergi sana mau study di universiti sebenarnya.
Me : Oh... eh... habis belajar ke tidak?
Him : Tak habis.
Me : Eh, lu apasal tak habis belajar? Ruginya! Siapa biaya awak pergi belajar tu?
Him : Parents saya.
Me : Chai, kenapa tak habis belajar?
Him : Macamana saya mau habis belajar, kak? Cakap Melayu pun saya tak
pandai, inikan pulak suruh belajar di UK tu, terang-terang saya tak pandai
English.
Me : Oh... Is that why you dropped out of school and kerja di bengkel?
Him : Yeah la..
Me : Di sana lagi best pendapatannya kan?
Him : Ye, tapi mak bapak saya suruh balik, saya baliklah.
Me : Good boy lah you, Ah Chai...

Seriously, dari cerita dia sendiri aku tau dia pun kecewa juga. Tapi begitulah harapan ibu bapa terhadap anak-anak. Sanggup menghabiskan wang beribu untuk memastikan anak-anak dapat ilmu dari sebuah university asing. Tapi anak tu sendiri mengakui, kerana kelemahan dalam bahasa tersebut, dia terpaksa melupakan impiannya.

Oleh yang demikian, para ibu bapa harus sedar, tak kira sebagus mana pun institusi tersebut, anak anda harus menguasai bahasa mereka agar dia tidak ketinggalan dan jadi korban akan kelemahan diri sendiri.

Kita sendiri tahu, universiti tempatan tak mampu menampung semua bijak pandai lulusan SPM kita. Kita memang secara terangan memberi lebih peluang kepada bumiputera, memaksa kebanyakan yang selebihnya mencuba nasib di luar negara. Bukan tanggungjawab negarakah, untuk sekurang-kurangnya memastikan anak-anak ini menguasai bahasa penjajah itu supaya mereka yang tidak kita bantu ni juga ada peluang untuk 'survive' di sana?

Just because penggerak Bahasa Ibunda kita tak mampu membuat Bahasa Melayu sebagai bahasa yang dicintai oleh semua bangsa di tanahair kita, janganlah kita dibutakan kepada kepentingan Bahasa Inggeris sebagai bahasa kedua.

Aku Melayu, aku bangga jadi Melayu. Baik buruk bangsa aku, bangsa lain pun ada juga kekurangannya. Cuma aku kecewa PhD syndrome masih belum dapat dikikis dari genetic blueprint orang kita.

Tidak hilang Melayu di dunia, kaedahnya... Kalau terus macam ni, korang rasa berapa lama lagilah kita akan dapat bertahan sebagai bangsa berdaulat?

traffic

It's funny, how my twins entry is still making most of the traffic on my blog.

They are really good-looking men. I really like looking at them, and since they are older than I am, I admit, I do swoon at their photo from time to time.

jana

Dah terlanjur aku ada mood updating my blog, di sini ada entry khas untuk kawanku seorang ittiew. I have saved the best for last.

Dia tanya, apa pendapat aku mengenai PPSM@I.

Siapalah aku, sekadarnya aku mengajar BI kat sekolah di pedalaman Sarawak. Cikgu pening-pening lalat pulak tu, berdasarkan entry-entry pelik kat blog inniew.

Walaubagaimanapun, if it matters to her, I am more than honored to blog about it.

From the very beginning, I think PPSMI is the best thing that can happen to the kids who are studying in this country. I do not claim to know exactly why the government decided to take this route in education, but the way I see things, Malaysia adalah sebuah negara yang kecil dan walaupun ianya adalah antara negara membangun yang mempunyai perkembangan ekonomi yang membanggakan, ianya tak akan mampu membekalkan pekerjaan untuk semua bakal-bakal pakar bidang Sains and Kejuruteraan atau apa sajalah, yang bakal kita lahirkan dalam masa sepuluh, dua puluh, tiga puluh tahun akan datang, oleh yang demikian, sememangnya mereka perlu melihat negara luar sebagai tempat mendapatkan pekerjaan.

Oleh yang demikian, I think it had been a very prudent decision made by the then PM Tun M to take this route. English, as we all know is a globally accepted language and for those of us who have the ability to master the language will not only be able to get through university very easily considering the fact that most of the reference books at the library and the internet resources are written in English, malahan mampu membawa diri ke negara asing untuk mendapatkan pekerjaan. Of course, the government could have chosen to invest in translating everything, but why waste time and resources when the better thing to do is to actually learn the language instead? Having English as a second or a third language will indeed take you further and give our students and bakal graduate the cutting edge to enable them to bersaing with graduates from the rest of the world.

When they do leave the country to work in these foreign countries, they will send money home, this simple act will menjana ekonomi negara kita juga.

I think the government telah pun mengambil langkah bijak dalam memastikan ekonomi negara kita kekal pada tahap kukuh hanya dengan memperkenalkan PPSMI.

Lagipun, obviously it motivates most kids to work harder in mastering this language, we can see the results in the improvements dalam UPSR dan PMR. Apa lagi yang nak dipersoalkan?

I am not aware of any other reason sebab I don't read the papers and I don't keep up with the news.

Masalahnya untuk tempat macam aku ni is they all sangat bangga kalau pandai membaca by the time they get to Primary Six! Sedangkan kalau di bandar pastinya itu suatu perkara yang melucukan. So tak hairanlah kalau masih ditemui dua tiga orang murid tingkatan 1 yang masuk sekolah aku ni yang masih buta huruf. Tak ramai, dalam setahun adalah dalam 6 orang dan mereka diberikan pendidikan khas dalam bulan-bulan awal tahun semasa bagi memastikan mereka dapat pick up kemahiran asas ni supaya tak ketinggalan dalam pembelajaran.

Jangan tanya aku how could that have happened. Aku tak ajar primary school. Tapi tak payah hairanlah kalau ada mak bapak amalkan sikap bawa parang ke sekolah bila dapat tahu cikgu scold anak dia di sekolah. Kalau you were in their place, apa caranya lagi nak memotivasikan anak orang berharta tak seberapa yang ada sikit sindrom bodoh sombong?

Bukan semua parents macam tu. Ada dua tiga kerat je. Tapi ngeri jugalah kan?

Is this the kind of entry you wanted? I am not very sure, you weren't very specific that day you asked me on text.



p/s :Bagi engkorang yang masih dungu memanggil bahasa tu bahasa penjajah, teruslah duk bawah tempurung korang tu. Jangan keluar, buat malu kaum je.

abaikan

Ye, kadang-kadang ada datang time aku tak center sikit, mula la merapu kat blog.

It's my blog and I'll rant if I want to, rant if I want to, raaaaant if I want to.
You would blog too, if it happened to you.....

Try saying that like singing that song that goes like this;

It's my party and I'd cry if I want to, cry if I want to...
You would cry too, if it happened to you...

Silalah, abaikan entry yang tak perlu tu.

lip filler

I finally gave up. My vanity finally had the better of me. I know I am getting older and I am losing volume in my lips, so I went and had some lip filler injected into my upper lip. Does it look sexy and ridiculously delicious?

*blink* ... *blink* *blink*.


I had an allergic reaction to something. And my top lip ballooned on one side like nobody's business. That was what happened last Friday evening. It didn't itch, it didn't feel all too weird other than the fact it felt like a tiny balloon and a little tight. It looked weird. Here is another photo of it in a much proper fashion.

What? Not too bad, you say? How about a photo from a different angle then?

Do you see my point? It looks like it is filled with puss and just waiting to burst!

Since the bottom lip had been chapped due to the fact that I love licking my lips and I had not been drinking enough water and used the wrong kind of lipstick that day, (I have sensitive lips that feathers and bleeds rather easily if I use the wrong kinds of lisptick, but I have not had the budget or the time to shop for the right kinds of late so I keep putting them on on certain days anyway). So I slapped on some V@seline on the bottom lip and a tiny bit on the inner part of the top lip (slathering it on all over the top lip will leave me with tiny rash-like bumps for days). That soothed the chapping and sloughed off the dead cells. I wiped that off and slathered on some more v@seline. The lip was still swollen and I didn't know why, and I still don't know why today.

I looked at it in the mirror and I thought this must be how my lips would look like in a botched lip-filling procedure. Why not take some photos? And that I did. Of course I had some photos that looks deliciously dirty for myself but here are just the three yang senonohnya for me to share with you how disgusting it had been last Friday.

The swelling subsided the next morning though, leaving a tiny patch of stretched skin in the tender part of the inner lip. But that didn't bother me at all. I wonder what it was that had caused it. It scared me when it happened.

TGIF, I thought that day, because had that happened on Thursday, I wondered if I would have had the guts to face the people at work with that lip.

Had I had the lip filler, and senget pulak tu, kan ke malapetaka namanya?

sorry

What is it about women and age?

What is it about women who lie about their age? Don't they know that if they are 45, but tell people they are 30-something, they would only seem to be like a very old 30-something? A very badly aging woman?

No matter how good you look for your age, you are meant to look your age. Although your behaviour and general outlook in life does help in making you look younger, there are subtle changes in a woman's features that will differentiate her from the other women in the different decades of their lives.

My mom is 63, but when she dresses up and makes herself up, she looks 50 or even younger. She never lies about her age. As a matter of fact, she would always be delighted to make people guess how old she is, usually younger than she really is, before finally revealing it to them to see the reaction on their faces. I am actually proud that my mom really does look good for her age. Well, she never had any HRT and she does not go to spas. She just doesn't look her age.

As for me, I know for a fact that I don't act my age. Even though I do admit that the energy level is not the way it used to be, not for a very long time, but it had not been at the worst. I don't dress like a punked up grubby little punkster, but outside of work, I keep it simple for the most part, usually T and jeans. I have had my fair share of people mistaking me for someone younger. I guess being a happy, carefree, immature woman has its merits. Huahahaha!

The truth is, age had never been a big deal for me, whether it is other people's or mine. I don't see getting old as a bad thing. In fact, I can't wait to be 4o and see how I will be at that age. I honestly do. My teens and twenties were OK but not up to my expectations. My thirties, I hope will be better.

I even like men who are older. Can you see how being old or older does not mean anything negative to me? The way I see it, people hate getting old, because of the youth-worshipping media, biological clocks and simply because they will shrivel up, lose a lot of control over their physical self and eventually die at the end of it. Sure, no one can see the bright side of that other than making room for the next generation, but hey, if you have done the best you can while you were alive and made all the contributions you can within your time limits, what is there to complain about? Leave with your dignity still intact. Isn't that how it is supposed to be anyway?

But the fact is, we have to be patient. We all have to be patient when it comes to age and ageing. Including me.

However, it is extremely insensitive of me to not realize that not everyone can share my sentiments on this issue.

Here's the thing, I like saying "Yelah, sejak dah tua ni... bla bla bla...". I joke about my age. I joke about the perils of growing older and shriveling up into an unappetizing prune of my former self (Even though I am totally aware how gebiew I am no matter how people associate getting old with wrinkling up. Being a fatty does have its merits, see?) because I truly don't mind growing old and don't mind people saying I am old.

So there I was, last Friday, joking with an older colleague of mine whom I totally respect, about her being older, simply by saying "Orang tua ni...." in front of some strangers. If I were her, I would have just said "Budak gemuk ni..." right back at me. But she is not as quick-tongued as I am, and she is the prim and proper and private type. She keeps most things to herself, unlike me whose life is an open book. She just laughed it off. Later in the afternoon, I got a text message from her telling me how hurt she was from my remark.

There. I have hurt someone's feelings again. Just because I was comfortable with her, that was no excuse to embarrass her in front of some strangers. That was so insensitive of me. I have apologized. I know how it feels like, even when you know that the other person is just joking. I do have a sensitive part. So I totally understand how hurt she was when I said that, especially in front of strangers. Even if you'd like to think those people don't really care about what they heard, because they probably thought we were a bunch of selamba people who doesn't get beat down easily by these things. Still, she is a colleague whom I have great respect for and whose feelings and opinions I value. I am glad she had the guts to say it to me even via text, rather than say things behind my back because that way, I could correct myself and apologize for my mistakes.

I'm very sorry, kak. Like I said, I can't promise because I have a foot-in-mouth disease. But I promise to try very hard not to do that again.

The moral of the story is, you know the moral of the story.

grey area

May I have some cheese? To go with the whine, I mean.

The art of making a man do a woman's bidding is a skill I have yet to master. I am just not ruthless when it comes to men. I think that's because I started dating rather late; 29 is late. No one can say otherwise. And at that age, I have skipped all that game playing and therefore have arrived at a place where all I want is someone who is ready to make the same commitment as I do in a long-term, well more like life-long, relationship.

I don't understand men. I don't know how to work them. I don't like playing games. I'm a failure.

If it is not because of what we call social conventions, I would have been happier being single for the rest of my life, find a sperm donor or two and just spend the rest of my life with a couple of kids and a live-in real-life dildo. (I am so laughing my ass off and rolling on the floor as I write this part)

Gosh... I am in no way saying that I am against the Islamic way of married life. Not at all. I do wish that I can find someone with the same goals in mind and actually be able to commit myself to this. But as I have said before, I am such a failure in this game that I think the best thing for me would be what I have described above. However, saying what I have said does not mean that is the way of life I am planning on pursuing.

I asked this ustaz at school the other day; what if a Muslim woman simply gave up on finding a mate after having done her best? His answer was; if she can keep her urges in check, and not cause herself any harm, there is no sin in her choice of being on her own for the rest of her life. That was a good answer. I hope he didn't just say that to make me happy because at least someone agrees with me in that.

I envy these women who can figure out their men or simply, men in general, and know exactly to make them do their bidding. I really do. But I pity the men who end up with the snakes. While I think it is an art, abusing it is a whole different thing.

Humans have evolved. They have advanced themselves so much, over-analyzed everything that nothing is simple anymore. Everything is f*cking complicated with relationships being at the top of the list.

I'm happy to see how some of my school friends have found their life companion and seem to lead happy and uncomplicated lives together. I don't keep up with them, so I'll never know if they did play that game. You know, that complicated dating games you keep seeing in TV shows like Friends and Sex and the City and especially the latest movie, He's Just Not That Into You. Nor am I interested in knowing.

As far as I have gone in my life and realized a lot of things, and overanalyzed most things in life, sometimes, I do wish that I could go back to being an untainted innocent; whose mind never even thought about going beyind the Barbie girl image; be happy and the world will be happy with you. So I tried remembering when did I start being so complicated... I can't. I don't remember seeing everything in a simpler light. Everything started being complicated from such an early age. Of course, I even started thinking about relationships when I was in primary school. I had a mental list of how he should be even from then. I carried that list with me, somewhere at the back of my mind from that time. I never acted on it, simply because the kind of man I had envisioned to be my life-long partner was way older than my school mates and far more successful and calm and mature and ... just everything they are not.

Being a total slob of a tomboy did not help matters at all. Being a late bloomer just made it worse. Being labelled a lesbian at that age just sent me to hell. When I came back, I was less than normal. I blame everything on myself and doomed myself to a life alone. Which I find appealing most of the time, seeing how complicated this whole dating thing is.

So, was it my fault for not playing that game these highly evolved people play when they are dating? Was it my fault, not playing hard to get when it first bloomed? Or is it just him, being old and tired of the game himself that he became comfortable and complacent?

Is it too much of me if I decide that as much as you want to teach me new tricks, you should learn a few new ones from me too? I don't think so. But he seems to think so.

Perhaps it is unfair to say these things here before discussing any of it with him, but we don't talk. Not about work, especially not about us. Hey, I feel like Men@ Suv@ri in that movie with J@son Biggs, where she was in this relationship with her professor (ho was obviously taking advantage of her) just to realize it later on and finally accepting this relationship with the younger guy, because he truly does love her. I feel like that. Except the part where there is a younger guy waiting in the sidelines. I don't have that younger guy waiting in the sidelines.

I once told someone that rather than pining for someone we are so much in love with but does not feel the same about us, we should just ditch that loser and be with the person who is madly in love with us, even if we don't feel 100% about that guy (I mean the mutual attraction he has for you) because in the end, the feelings will come and it will be all much more worth it. I strongly believe in that, but that's for young and cute girls. Not someone my age.

Is there still hope for me? I am hopeful although I can't promise that that came out of my endless and brimming optimism. Why am I hopeful anyway? I don't know. I am just hopeful because I believe that everyone is made for someone and I haven't met mine yet. One day, after all the sh*t in my life is sorted out, I will be ready to settle down, but I'm not ready to settle. I don't think I am asking too much. Just someone old enough and calm enough to handle the fire within.

I am not gonna bother reading this again before I hit the Publish button. Maybe I will come back later to correct the grammar later, but rereading it now, will only make me change my mind. Anyway, I don't mean to whine. I am just writing down what I have in mind about this whole thing.

And why am I going on with this charade of happiness with him instead of just putting out the tiny flame between my thumb and forefinger? I am not sure if it is desperation on my part or pity, because he has been nothing but nice to me, and I don't see why I should break it to him the way I had pictured in my mind a million times. I just don't see why I should do that to him. I don't see him necessarily hurting me on purpose, he's old, busy and tired of it all. Besides, I don't have someone else waiting for me.

It's not something that is easy for me to explain. Don't judge me unless you have ever found yourself in my situation and found it a pleasant experience to just tell someone off when he's been nothing but nice to you.

I used to be an idealist. There is black, there is white, there is no grey. It took me a long while to realize that most of the issues we have to deal with in life lies in the grey. You like something, you stay, you don't, you walk away.

He definitely lies in the grey.

Notice that I am not asking what I should do because I know what it is I should do.


p/s : Please don't look at this entry as me pitying myself. I am trying to be pragmatic about the whole thing, so bear with me, okay?

woman, on top

Hello blog... and kengkawan and dearest li'l sis...

My hands have healed from the bout of the itchy bumps that made it look like I am some lizard. Now it is still bumpy, the skin has thickened somewhat from the experience, and cracked like some elephant's crazy ass cracked foot pad. And I have no idea what to do about it, because it doesn't just look gross, it feels gross too! I sweat all over my body, but never on the palms of my hands or my feet. So they are pretty well dry and cracked as it is, and now with the bumpy scars, it looks way worse than usual. And using chalk at work is not making it look or feel any better. Maybe I am not drinking enough lately, maybe I need to use the pumice stone on my hands in the shower too instead of just sticking to just pumiceing my feet. I will have a separate pumice stone for the hands lah, if liddat, cuz using the pumice stone of the feet on the hand is gross. Maybe I should be patient and wait for my yearly molting of the skin on the palm of my hands. But God knows when that is gonna happen.

Who cares?


WARNING : Totally gross self-loving blog entry of the century ahead. Vomit-inducing. Only meant for the chronic monologuist owner of the blog. For her own self-motivation purposes. Please refrain yourself from venturing any further.

Now this is the real entry today.

I am broke but I am at the top of the world.

Last week, I got a call from PK HEM SMK L@w@s. Alex asked me if I would consider coming over to their school and give a talk for their Budi Bahasa Budaya Kita programme being organized by the UBK for their year-long programme. I was like... WHAT THE HAY? WHY ME? WADEFAK!!!

Well, of course I didn't say those exact words out loud, but I did freak out on the phone and what I ranted on the phone from the sheer shock of it all was pretty close.

I am gonna be 33 at the end of August and I have never given a talk like the one they are expecting me to give. It was just a prelimenary call to see what if I can do it on that day, so I can always back out if I wanted to.

I have stage fright. A freakin huge stage fright. Give me a theatre script any day, and I will go on a field trip with it. But if you want me to go on stage and be all educational and facts and number and statistics, give me a huge hunking steaming jock strap soup instead!!!

I was planning on chickening out later and ease it out on them on a phone call I was planning to make later last week. I managed to duck out of the whole thing the last time I was invited for a motivational talk in a primary school for UPSR candidates due to the fact that I was needed in another affair more important at school at the same time. It was totally true that time, so I had to send my counselor instead. Even when it actually tickled my heart string, wondering if I could do it, to share my experience with all those little ones and help them see life in a different light and the potential that lies within, the way I share it with the pupils at my school every opportunity that calls for it. I would like to believe that I had to send my counselor instead that time out of sheer necessity and an overlapping schedule... but deep down inside, I can't simply deny the cold truth; I chickened out.

I'll do the chicken dance later.

This time though, I realized I can chicken out of invitations for so long. One day, I will have to be brave and confront my demons. Secretly, in between my usual job at work, I wondered if this is the right time to start confronting them. There is always a first time for everything and I am at an age where I should have had enough experience with kids at school to know how to handle them. Especially loud, rowdy and rude crowd of helplessly lost souls that they have intended to be my target audience for the talk they had planned for me that day, just a week away. But as surely as the sun rises every morning, my fears started creeping in, casting a shadow of doubt so thick, I almost felt suffocated, smothered by fear. Fear of the unknown, the dumbest fear there is out there if I ever knew one. So I decided, I will chicken out. I will weasel my way out of it, just the way I did last time. And the times before that.

And you know what happened?

I forgot to make that phone call. I got so caught up on work that I was only reminded of it last Monday when a text message from the other school's counsellor who is also an acquaintance of mine. It was just two days away now, officially too late to weasel my way out of it, because there is no way they are gonna be able to find anyone to replace me just so they can keep on track with the school's motivational / discipline programme, and even though I am an evil bitch, I can't possibly let them down. Not this close to the date. I am not that selfish.

So I went on a self-motivating mode throughout the rest of Monday and the whole of Tuesday, getting myself all psyched about the prospect and possibility of actually getting to these so-called hardcore students at that school, or actually bombing and getting booed into oblivion.

I almost died from the self-induced anxiety and sheer anticipation. Let me remind you, I HAVE A F*CKING D*MNED FIRST DEGREE STAGE FRIGHT time one thousand. And I don't even know what the hell that means. All I know is that I am just gonna go up there and be in the spotlight and just die from the whole experience.

By Tuesday evening, I was already just a huge lump of nerves in my bed whether I really needed to come up with some PowerPoint slideshow. I was all jittery and nervous, biting my nails even though I never was a nail biter. I was THAT nervous. I am not even playin'.

I ended up falling asleep at 2.30 in the morning and not have a slideshow to go with my talk. Great. Just great! Now they are just gonna say you are a sloppy lazy ass dumb b*tch who is gonna preach all morning.

I dragged myself out of bed when the alarm went off. In truth, I had been awake since 5 am and had not been able to get back to sleep since then. Took a shower. I brushed my whole body with the body brush and sloughed off all the dead skin cells all over my body. Only my scalp was spared because I worried if I might lose all my hair later if I do that there.

I put make up on. Got dressed in my new favourite, the kurung I had tailored for last year's Raya which was totally moss green satin with light green/gold lace trims on the wrist, and slipped on my black, pointy-toed three-inch stiletto with blingy heels I got in Alamanda last time I went home to Serdang. I was a vision of lush greenery. Well, at least they know I take good care of myself and not a totally sloppy lazy assed b*tch.

The whole ensemble took care of that. I hope.

And I sprayed on some of my Happy, to make me happy.

After a last look in the full-length mirror, I grabbed my keys and my stuff and left home. After I made a flask of hot coffee+tongkat ali. Ye, aku minum tongkat ali. Every work day mornings. Ko apa pedulik? So far, aku belum jadi jantan lagi. But it had done wonders for my bad back. Alhamdulillah.

At the school, I was sweating bullets. There goes my foundation laden face. Damnit, damnit, damnit. I salvaged whatever was left with a few dabs of tissue paper followed by blotting paper. I was fine.

Went to the venue, I was greeted by that acquaintance of mine. The rest, my friends, as they say, is history.

My history at least.

I was clear, concise, captivating and entertaining.

They began as a rowdy, noisy, rambunctious and rude bunch of hyperactive kids and we ended learning so much from each other, calming down and being more at peace with the world ten minutes before the recess bell went off. Most of them had that look in their eyes that tells you "Gosh, I never knew I had that in me" kind of look. Or I bored them to death.

No. It was a success. And I am tooting my own horn. Shamelessly doing so, mind you. Not because I was so damned good but because I managed to just show up and actually go through with it and getting praises from that acquaintance of mine. After the talk was over, and the kids were gone and the mess was cleaned up, we sat down for a while and talked some more. One of the sweetest compliments I have ever heard in my whole life as a teacher was a simple "No wonder you students love you, Y".

Do they? I wondered whether that was true, because all I had done was share with them the horrors of my life and so that they never have to through them themselves. If they do love me, then that is the bonus. But I didn't let that get to my head, because my head was still abuzz from the excitement of having completed a mammoth task of confronting my demons and finally have a true blue, motivational talk badge under my ten-year old teaching belt. Finally.

If ever I got around to preparing that ever essential presentation tool of PP slide show, it would have been totally wasted because the erratic but energetic volleying of questions and answers between us that followed after the ice-breaking activity, just took everything I had, and it was worth it.

How I knew it was a success? Because the acquaintance is now planning on organizing another talk for her fellow teachers for stress management and how to handle problematic kids and still keep your sunshiny self and sanity intact. And it will be given by me.

I said why? I can't do that. Come on Y, these kids knew about you even before you came here she chided me. Do they? Gosh... I never knew. Well, actually I have suspected that because I heard my name yelled out loud every time I pass by the school right in front of the bus stop, because I always have to slow down when I get there every morning because it is congested by parents dropping their kids off to school. And I roll down the window in the mornings because I love the fresh morning breeze instead of the artificially cooled recycled air of the car. You can ignore it the first few times, you can't keep ignoring after another dozen times.

They came in doubting me, and they left with sweet smiles and polite gestures of thank yous. And they were supposed to be the school's cigarette smelling thugs.

The saddest thing for these kids is the fact that going through puberty has left them all mixed up and forgetting why they were in school in the first place.

I hope I have imparted some kind of insight of their true potential; underneath all those layers of hard exterior, there is still a seedling of hope just wating to be watered with self-awareness and the hunger to be more of who they already are.

Dare I say it?

Have I finally found my true calling?

*GASP!*

And the fact that I found out later at home that I had applied my make up exactly the way the latest trend in Hollywood on E! just made it even better. The cherry on top. Flawless skin, nude shadow for the eyelids, thick and lush lashes with a hint of eyeliner on the roots of the top lash, and glossy barely-there pinkish hued lipstick.

I don't claim to be a master of make up art, but you can't really go wrong with M@C, right?

I was back at school later this morning just in time to have another pseudo-business brunch, discussing stuff with my boss at the school canteen, met with a parent over an absenteeism letter for his son, update SMM data on my desk top, mingle with the office staff, and go to my Form 4Sc class for EST, just in time to edit all of their first draft sof the Natural Disasters essay. Which was promptly followed by a disciplinary board meeting over a case that occured that morning while I was away, and later on, attend the support staff meeting until 4pm.

Who says teaching is a thankless job? It's all worth it.

For those of you who have demons who keep holding you down whenever you are ready to take that flight into the heavens, to spread your wings and soar... learn from me, it's never too late to confront them finally put them to rest.

Haters, go away. Go piss on some other person's blog.


p/s : I got two pens ( one from the school, one from the Baitul Mal guy who missed me when he visited the school that morning for his yearly visits) a school pennant, and RM50 for my efforts today. I love all of them, they make me wanna click my heels, jump on a horse and go Yippee Kay Yay, as I ride off into the sunset.

nenong nenong

Ini pasal aku malas nak online. Sebab lepas satu, satu aku nak baca and in the end, I realized 5 hours have passed. Relishing each word on my mind's tongue does not have merits when you are internet surfing.

Aku mesti tidur. It will be 1 am soon. Even if I will be on my feet all morning and will not feel sleepy at all being busy with everything that comes with work, tak sepatutnya aku tidur lewat begini kerana pastinya, esok pagi, walaupun terjaga awal, tapi aku akan terus malas nak bangun dari katil untuk mandi dan solat dan bersiap ke sekolah. Tambah dengan lengah-melengah aku ni, lagilah aku akan lewat ke sekolah. Walaupun tahun ni belum lagi... tak maulah start tomorrow, lagipun esok perhimpunan. Banyak benda nak kongsi dengan anak-anak. Alamat lencun la berpeluh cuba meringkaskan ucapan yang tak berapa nak ringkas no matter how hard I try pun

O ye... pagi tadi aku marah budak sebab main-main menyanyikan lagu Negaraku dan mengaminkan doa macam orang gila meroyan, terjerit-jerit. Is that a sign of intelligence? Yang kalau di sekolah-sekolah where the parents are so intelligent, takkan benarkan guru memarahi the culprit? Aku marah mereka kerana they are Malay, Muslims and full-blooded Malaysians yang biadab pada agama dan negara sendiri walaupun masih begitu muda. Kalau bukan kita yang nak menyanjung agama dan negara kita, siapa lagi? Dan mereka tahu aku memang naik tangga tiga tingkat tu dengan kasut tumit tiga inci tu semata-mata nak cari mereka, dah awal-awal berdesup melarikan diri di celah-celah badan kawan-kawan lain yang masih belum bersurai masuk ke kelas masing-masing selepas selesai bacaan Doa Pagi. Tapi dia tak tahu, budak-budak lain semuanya on MY SIDE. Sekelip mata je rakan-rakan sama tingkatnya memberitahu aku siapa empunya diri yang bersikap biadab itu dan secepat itu juga mereka dibawa kembali ke tempat aku berdiri menunggu mereka.

Mulai esok, mereka akan berdiri untuk Negaraku dan Bacaan Doa Pagi di depan pejabatku.

If you were the teacher there that day, apa reaksi anda terhadap perlakuan anak-anak ini? Belum mumayyizkah walaupun dan 14 tahun usiamu? Tidak pernah diajarkah, di rumah mahupun di sekolah? Comelkah, bila diperhatikan kawan-kawan tingkahlakumu? Kau lelaki, patutkah kau berpura-pura comel laksana watak gadis kawaii dalam manga Jepun? Rakyat Brunei kah kau, walaupun usaha menuntut ilmu yang tak seberapa oleh mu itu ditanggung kerajaan Malaysia semenjak kau jejak kaki ke tadika?

Bila kau nak sedar? Bila kau dah lepasan SPM dengan gred 9G semua subjek?

Melayu Islam di Malaysia...

Di mana nilai maruah dirimu?

p/s : kalau ada orang kata aku terlalu emosi dengan perbuatan budak-budak ni, let me say to you to get an 8 inch rubber dildo and go fuck yourself sampai puas. Aku taknak anak bangsa aku kena fuck in the ass oleh lanjiao-lanjiao durjana. Sememangnya aku marah kalau hal fundamental macam amalan kami seisi sekolah setiap pagi pun sukar baginya untuk mengikut. It all starts with the basics.

Kau tunggulah sampai anak-anak kau besar dan dah pandai sepak terajang kau di tikar sembahyang baru kau nak tegur.

pp/s : aku sangat sedih tengok anak melayu kampung ni ramai yang tak menjadi. sekadar gitu-gitu aje. aku tak racist. semua aku sayang, sama je. tapi sangat sedih tengok budak lelaki melayu sibuk menghancurkan diri. yang perempuan miang nak nikah. tak dibenarkan ibu bapa, pergi mengandungkan diri tu, biar dapat green light. buka pekung di dada? at least i am honest in telling you kenapa aku emosi akhir-akhir ni mengenangkan generasi mereka. macam takde harga diri. takde maruah. sesal bila dah 5 tahun lepas habis spm dan masih belum dapat kaya raya macam yang dia sangka, berbekalkan spm 9G. kenapa mesti tunggu dah susah baru nak akui yang cikgu semua ikhlas nak bantu korang masa kat sekolah dulu? kami bohong ke, bila kami kata hidup ni biar berilmu barulah disegani. ilmu pasti membantumu. kenapa susah sangat nak percaya sekarang, bila kau masih ada peluang, ditaja pihak kerajaan lagi? kenapa mesti tunggu bila dah tak ada jalan nak patah balik dan buat cubaan kedua?

ada yang berjaya... keluar jauh terbang melayang... tak nak menabur bakti di kampung sendiri?

ppp/s : smk kat town jemput aku buat ceramah disiplin rabu ni untuk budak masalah disiplin tegar. gila ke apa? i'm not a counsellor.

I'm going to sleep now. You should too, in case you're reading this late at night.

how do you see me?

"Writers and poets try to understand the truth about woman, but until today they have never understood of her heart. For they look at her through the veil of desire and see only the shape of her body. And they look at her through the magnifying glass of self-love and find in her only weakness and submission.
–Kahlil Gibran."

all that jazz

I AM
75%
JAZZTake the Transformers Quiz

kongkek

I don't understand Malay couples. Some of them. Not all.

Hard to be PC when everything you write is susceptible to being judged, left, right and center.

I don't understand some Malay couples.

They get all crazy wanting to get all over each other on dates to the extent of doing stuff on motorbikes and in cars, when it is haram for them to do all these things. But a few months after it is actually halal to do so and even some crazier things, they stopped doing those things to each other, or even want to on the grounds that 'kita orang Melayu, mana boleh buat cam tu, malulah, orang tengok!'

Hello, for those times you were all over each other, listening and following bisikan syaitan and nafsu tu, tu budaya Melayu ke? For all those times ko berkongkek tak kira tempat tu, budaya Melayu ke?

And of all the Western culture yang korang sibuk nak cedok and tiru tu, why can't you cedok and tiru some of the principles they have in being life-long married couples? The type that still hold hands and keeping the romance alive when it has outlived the youth, beauty and good looks? The type who misses the empty space in beside them in bed and wishing with all their heart that he/she can be back in their arms in the blink of an eye?

Why can't you fall in love with the person? And not simply with the packaging he/she came in?

Ramai sangat yang buat kenduri besar-besaran, 3 hari, 3 malam... tak sampai berapa tahun dah berantakan. Bersyukurlah woi, korang tu dapat gak merasa nikah. Aku ni?

Kidding. I don't mind. I swear.

About the bit where I haven't go the chance to get married. Honestly, seeing what is going on with people and their married lives, I have become quite the pessimist when it comes to relationships and its eventual demise.

But truly, aku menyampah melihat young couples yang seems to be Muslims, tapi tak display any kind of Muslim behavior when it comes to dating... and they do it out in the open. No, I am not exasperated. Just nauseated because I know, most of the same couples will not be all lovey dovey and all over each other anymore once the girl get all pregnant and bloated and stuff. They will walk a few feet ahead of her, let alone hold her hand. Yang the perempuan pulak, pasrah. Bila nak beranak, hantar balik rumah mak ayah dia! Wadefak? Babi punya jantan.

The very things they enjoy when it is haram, loses its thrill when it is halal.

Why?

2 billion

There is a voyeur in all of us. That's why reading other people's blog is fun. They let us in into their lives and we find comfort in the fact that we are not all that strange because there are people just like us out there.

It's naive to think that our problems are unique to us and happens only to us and that no one understands us.

This is what I want my kids at school to understand. Difference in decades and eras do not make too huge of a difference to me because most of the time, it's just about the chemicals in the brain. Not all the time, most of the time. Special cases will get special attention. Counseling, drugs, whatever...

However, all that clinical stuff aside, honestly, ten years from now, will the same teenage problems still bother you? Do you really think there is no light at the end of the tunnel? Come on, 2 billion people in the whole wide world and this problem of yours only happens to you and nobody else? Seriously...

Snap out of it.

Is this irony? I hated my teenage years. It was traumatic, to say the least (there's the DQ talking) and I wanted so much for it to end as soon as possible. Ten years later, here I am, neck deep in teenage problems, which will probably where I will be for the next two decades or so.

bongok

Dulu masa aku praktikum kat SMK Undang Luak Jelebu tahun 1999 dulu, tuan rumah aku tu ada kucing, namanya Bongok. Dia comel, tapi entry ni bukan pasal kucing tu...

What the f*ck?!?!

Wadefak wadefak wadefak wadefaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaak!

Wadefak....

I love lilytheliverbird's blog and I always read it. I can't anymore. Yet another victim of dear Peot Zedorek, she has since privatised her blog. And I am not the type to beg for entrance because I never said anything on her comment box, tetiba dahkena privatise tu lah nak bertegur sapanya. Sungguh plastik itu. It's her blog, she's got the right to privatise it, regardless of what I think. Siapa yang tak sakit hati kalau ada orang buat macam tu pasal blog kita.

I don't understand her problem with all these blogs. Tak suka, jangan baca. No one invited you for a reading session.

The thing is, these people know exactly what they are doing and the consequences. They write about it because they can. Why can't we just leave them be? Who are we to judge? Confirm ke, kita ngutuk orang ni, kita ada setapak lot untuk buat rumah kat syurga tu? Why do people like Peot Zedorek have to come along and ruin my voyeuristic fetish? Cewah... motif sangat...

Kalau begitulah gaya Rasulullah berdakwah dulu, rasanya ada ke orang nak masuk Islam?

Tapi kan... nak kata dia berdakwah, di jalan Allah, tak juga. Nak kata dia nak bagi nasihat... jauh sekali. Sekadarnya mengutuk orang dan kemampuan menggunakan bahasa penjajah tu kaedahnya. Tapi memang kelakar la, dia punya contoh tu. Kalau aku ada student macam salah seorang mangsa dia tu, suka je aku nak suruh buat essay je manjang, buat bahan bacaan hiburan. But the thing is, yang empunya blog tu pun, kuat semangat la sikit. And think, walaupun ramai yang berada di pihak minah sorang tu, tak semestinya semua your readers are on her side. Cuma kami malas nak terjun into the pig sty and bergelut with the pigs. You will only get dirtier sebab orang macam itu, pandai kutuk orang tapi bila diri sendiri kena kutuk, habis la satu kampung diharuknya...

Alih-alih esok, si LeeUK pulak. Memang dia terlampau. But that is his life. TT-Ad dah kena dah, but at least he had the strength to persevere. Si Kenny Sia pun kena. What the hell? Womanizer ke boyadarater ke, I don't care! Their entries are much more original and livelier than yours! Narcissism galore ke hapa ke, bukan dia mintak hang duit beli DSLR depa, or bayar bill Streamyx.

Damn damn damn damn damn!

Aku berpegang kepada prinsip, kalau tak nak berdakwah, usahla mengutuk. Sebuas mana pun orang, kalau tak membunuh sesama sendiri, what they do is up to them. Mereka pun manusia yang ada hati dan perasaan juga.

Entahlah, I like visiting these blogs as a silent reader. How many more blogs will become her victim pun I don't really know. I guess I better get back to reading real books then, rather than reading real-life stories and enjoying beautiful photos for a while only to be denied entry once I am hooked.

Alih-alih blog aku pulak la jadi mangsa sebab kununnya memperjuangkan hak asasi blogger la kan? Taklah, siapalah aku di dunia blog ni. Dengan pembaca 4 orang yang amat aku sayangi. But the thing is, even if the blog world is a free world la kekdahnya, tak seornoknya lah melintas kat blog yang sebegitu. Oleh yang demikian, I don't go there anymore. Tak sanggup la nengok orang kena kupas and put on display without them knowing until it is too late. Sebab aku tengok semua benda tak boleh buat dalam kamus blogging dia. So, apa yang boleh?

Mengutuk blog orang?

saja...

Kalau you all nak kata I bengong, kata la.... I reposted my entry entitled the blues sebab bila bukak kat editting page tu, the entry tak appear in its whole entirety. I cut and pasted the whole thing, editted it and also copy and pasted the comments. Sayang la nak delete entry tu sekali dengan those precious comments.

Itu pun nak bagi tau orang kan?

Hiew hiew hiew....

the blues (re-post)

Originally posted on February 5th, 2009

Editted, because I think even though the blog is not a place to be an English teacher and correcting grammar all the time, it also should not be an excuse to write badly. I was tired that day and didn't really pay attention to the errors as long as I got these off my chest in a flash. Kalau ada salah lagi, lantaklah. Aku letih balik main badminton.

It had been a little bit on the draining side, today. Emotionally.

Maybe it's the time of the month, (in my case that time of the year) or maybe it really was an emotionally draining day. Why do I always let myself get carried away with work? I don't know. I simply love some of the aspects of my job that I feel the need to be very involved with everything that is going on. Sometimes I don't realize what was happening to me, mentally, until I come home and have my 'me' time.

It started out as a normal morning. Lately, I have been a little lazy. Maybe this time, my periods make me feel a little weak and lethargic. They are never the same. Sometimes I have tons of energy, sometimes I get gassy, sometimes I get pre-period diarrhea, sometimes I get the cramps in the most inappropriate places of my anatomy, sometimes it lasted just three days, passing me by like a gentle seabreeze. Sometimes it lasts for 14 days, dripping once or twice a day towards the end; never the same. This time it made me wonder about my capacity to be professional in my job instead of being that DQ I have been trying very hard not to revive in any of the occasions at work.

If anyone bothered, they would know that I do not blame my mistakes and shortcomings to the hormones. Women do have their ups and downs, I do too. I even suspect myself of having a mild bipolar condition for having the highest highs and the lowest lows sometimes. But when it comes to work, I have to take that out of the equation as much as I possibly can, so I will be able to make the most impartial decisions. So they won't blame me for being such a DQ later on. A safety check of sorts.

What happened today was supposed to be not a big deal. It wasn't. But I have been able to avoid the tears for a few years now. But today, I cried at work. Not once, but twice! How embarrassing could I have been???

It started out fine, as I said. I have been a little lazy this year. From the beginning of the year, I won't get out of bed until it is 5.20am. I used to wake up before the alarm goes off at 5.00am. I am losing that energy it seems this year. But I am happy to assure you that I have not been late not even once this year. Come to think of it, even throughout the whole of last year. Wow... I am gonna give myself a pat on the back. I have been a chronic late-comer the year before. Reaching school just before the bell rang. I wake up early, but I always get out of the house later than I should. Last year, I realized that being a role-model, I should be a good one. And there is no excuse for me to be late, because there is no traffic jam anywhere in town, and all I have to do is make sure I leave the house at 6.10am. Having young people in your charge does make a person more responsible, I would like to think, therefore, I have never been late again, not even when I slept through the alarm and woke up at the sound of the garbage truck at 5.45am. I showered and even had light make up on before getting into the car at 5 minutes later than usual.

I ramble a lot when I am free-writing, don't I?

Got to school. Punched in... or scanned my fingerprint. Went to my office. It is always alive with activities because the prefects use my office for the PA system in the morning and the head prefect is usually the first one to get there and she has a key. *Gasp!* Well, she is such an able and trustworthy young adult that I would even trust my life with her. Maybe one day I will put her photo up in here. She deserves a spot.

After the morning Negaraku and the daily Dua, I went to have my breakfast at the school canteen as usual. That is the only time I have in the day before it gets really crazy until it is time to leave. It is also the best time for me to mingle with the other teachers who are also free at that particular time of the morning, because my work later will keep me mostly to myself and to the kids and keep me away from them, making me seem distant and in no need of interactions with my co-workers. Then I went back to the office to do some paper work and marked some books and also updated the students' data systems on the desktop.

Then, I went to class; my wonderful 5 Sastera 2 class, whose faces and cheerful and genuine smiles warm my heart. I know they had been little monkeys the year before but all they needed was discipline and structure. Well, all the kids are nice, obedient and good when they are around me. So I rely heavily on the other teachers to keep me updated on who and what they are really capable of in terms of behavior from simple mischief to downright misdemeanor.

It was a nice grammar lesson. I never push them to do more than they can do only to get mad at them later for not being able to complete the task. I will try to kick it up a notch as we progress though. Then it was recess.

At the end of recess, a group of form 2 boys came to my office bringing with them another boy covered in blood. He had a two-inch long cut on the right eyelid, right below the brow. Blood was all over the left side of his face and some dotted his clean white shirt. That boy, a few days earlier, was brought to school by his dad after he received a letter from the school for his sons' absenteeism. His father had asked me to tell him that his dad is gonna be thrown in jail if he doesn't go to school. I assured him that I will tell his boy that and much more and asked him to leave his son with me. I told him everything (that I think a 14 -year-old should) he should know about life and then some. And threw in the jail thing from his dad. I am glad that although he has a tough-looking face, he is such a trusting little boy.

Today, he had been playing in the classroom with a classmate during recess. The rule is, no one should be in the classroom during recess, so there was definitely no playing in the classroom during that time. But it happened anyway. I don't exactly know what happened. But he told me, while they were playing, he was pushed to the wall, and got the cut. It was so close, I am thankful it did not hurt his eye.

Another girl had asked if she could go home because she had been having a throbbing headache since Tuesday. I scolded her for keeping such things to herself for so long. I told her I will not let her go home. Instead I will take her to the village clinic, and then will let her go home if her condition grants her the day off from the MA. I already had my car key in my hand when they took the boy in. I padded his bleeding brow with some tissue paper and took him along.

At the clinic, we went straight in. The MA, being a girly man, was shocked to see him in that state and whispered to me that he will have to stitch that shut. He told the boy to go rest while he attended to the girl. I accompanied the boy in the treatment room right next door and tried to comfort him a little.

He was not disoriented. More like embarrassed to have all that blood all over him. I assured him that everything was gonna be okay and it is normal to have so much blood when one bleeds from a head injury. He didn't want the tetanus shot, let alone the local anesthetics later on. And the stitching that would ensue.

The MA said he doesn't have to stitch it up if the boy doesn't want it. But I do think he needed the cut to be closed because it was gaping and a little too deep to heal quickly on its own. I tried calming the boy down because he started panicking when he saw the tetanus needle looming close. "Come, hold my hand and look at me. Trust me, it will hurt a little bit, but it won't kill you," I said. He moved from side to side in the bed trying to dodge the needle when it got to his upper arm. The attending nurse was worried that he might struggle when the needle was in and break it. That would be a big mess. I squeezed his hands and made him look at me. And then I told him, "Cikgu pun pernah kena jahit dulu kat kepala ni, janganlah takut sangat..., k?"

It was a lie. But he looked at me and calmed down. Then he squeezed my hand and closed his eyes and let the MA give him the tetanus shot.

"Sakit?"
"Sakit jua', sikit-sikitlah."

Then the MA placed a piece of paper with a hole above his wound. He was going to administer the local anesthetic. That paper alone freaked him out again. Again, I had to embellish my little white lie, "Luka kamu ni kalau tak jahit nanti tak hensem la dah baik nanti. Kepala cikgu ni dulu kan, kena paku masa lari-lari bawah rumah, koyak dekat sejengkal, tau? Masa tu cikgu baru 12 tahun. Kena jahit jua', ok je tau? Kamu kan 'rock'... Orang 'rock' mana boleh macam ni, kan?"

At last he calmed down again, "Inda sakit kah, chegu'?"
"Sakitlah sikit masa ia cucuk kasi bius atu, tapi lepas atu nda sakit lagi bah..."
"Iyakah, chegu?"
"Awu, inda percayakah, cakap chegu'? Chegu' selalu menipu kitak kah di sekulah ah?"
"Inda..."
"Bah pigang tangan chegu' kuat-kuat, rileks sikit bah. Jangan takut, chegu' tunggu sampai ia habis jahit, ah?"
"Banarkah inda sakit chegu?"
"Sakit, tapi sikit jak... Inda pulang mati. Tapi kalau inda dijahit, nanti lambat baik, inda hensem lagi pulang tu! Mau kitak kah?"
"Bah..."

The MA covered his right eye with the paper again and I saw how the needle went in and out just like you cucuk daun pisang bungkus lepat tu dengan lidi tajam.... and how the liquid squirted out of the open holes made by the needle. I know it will heal, but it freaked me out, man! I am not the squeamish type, but it's one thing watching a graphic demo of a surgical operation where the doctor seems like melapah daging korban on TV, but watching it happening right in front of your eyes is a totally different thing. Then we waited a few minutes for the LA to work and then came the stitching. Again, he had second thoughts.

"Inda sakit bah, inda berasa lagi tuk..."
"Banar?"
"Banar... "

He held both my hands in both of his and we started talking about why exactly he didn't go to school those times. I watched the MA cucuk his wound with a huge ass needle and I listened to him telling me about going out to sea with his dad to fish and getting money for it. I asked him what he did with the money, he said he saved it. How much do you have now? Hundreds? Nah... Tapi berpuluh jua'lah.... Not bad. (Dalam hati, aku nak menangis, sebab I realized how gigih and cermat he is) But I don't want you to be just a fisherman when you grow up. You should do something more, something better. I'm sure your mom and dad want you to have more than they did in life, so you have to work hard for it. I know, but it's hard, chegu'. I know, dear, but no one ever said anything about life being easy.

All the while, aku sendiri nak pengsan tengok jarum jahitan tu kuar masuk daging kening budak tu. Lutut aku rasa lembik sikit. Tapi him trusting me gave me strength as much as me being there made him brave.

For some reason, at that moment, I tought about wanting my own kids. To have little hands to hold and be brave for and give strength to. A bad time to think about having kids. One should not gauge one's ability to raise children simply based on a day at the clinic with someone else's child.

He had six stitches.

Then the MA gave him some paracetamol as painkillers and antibiotics. Then I took him back to school to get his stuff, because now I have to take him home and personally meet with his parents and explain things to them. I told him to get his stuff from class and be back at my office in 5 minutes.

But in my office, the girl from hell was there with her dad. I'm sorry. I don't mean to label her that way, but compared to the students in my school, she is a full-blown ... I don't want to say the word. But you can guess. She moved to Miri when she was in form 1. Now she is in form 3 and had mixed with the wrong crowd in the city school and now her parents could only see us as the last resort before admitting her to a correctional school which calls for a court order. And another parent was also there, wanting to inform me that his son got the 'kudis buta' again and had been to the hospital for treatment and won't be able to come to school until the abcess that had been impairing his ability to walk, heals. I talked with him for a while and assured him that I will inform the class teacher about it and he can take as much time he needs to get better and was ready to move on to seeing the girl's dad when a student came running to my office and panting, told me that CLI was having fainting spells at the lab. I excused myself and ran to the lab. I saw CLI walking slowly towards me and I went and supported her and took her to my car. The boy was already there and I told a girl who was following me to get my handbag and car key from my office. I sent her home. CLI called in sick the day before. Why did she have to come to work if she didn't feel okay? She's probably like me, feel guilty as I rest every time I call in sick. I dropped her off at her place which was only a moment's drive from school and went straight to the boy's kampung with the boy in tow which was located about 10 minutes from school.

We got there, I parked my car at the lot and we took the boat across the estuary to his house. I met with his parents who were home at the time and explained what happened to them and apologized for the incident. They were very nice, gracious people. And they know me. They all know me, I hope so they know the people at the school are really doing our best, despite the fact.

"Apa dibuatnya chegu'?"
"Kanak-kanak ani' di sekulah, beribun bah. Berlabih pulang."
"Sangka ku ia bergaduh chegu'. Kalau bergaduh, kan ku tambah lagi..."
"Inda bah. Banar, beribun jak tapi lepas atu, berlabih. Anak kampung ani jua lawannya, tapi biar ku jumpa ia di sekulah dulu. Jangan tah kitak marahi ia lagi."

Aku suka la cakap macam orang Brunei. Walaupun tak sama... at least I am trying la kan...? Uhuhu...

I only had a few minutes to chat, because the other parent was still waiting for me in my office.

Still, on the way out another parent came by and enquired about scholarship and hostel allocations. Always tough issues to explain and the boat couldn't have come sooner. I did the best explaining to them and excused myself because I really had to rush back.

I climbed down the ladder into the boat and as we were going back to the other side, the boat guy asked me about school finances. I told him it is best that he talk to the principal about the matter because what I know is insufficient to answer his questions.

Back at school, I spent about half an hour with that parent. I could see it in his face, and in his body language that he is a gentle-hearted father who is at the end of his ropes. That was when he told me that he was thinking about moving her to a correctional school but that would require a court order. I realized what a daunting task lie ahead of me if I decide to take on the challenge. I do not want to make the same mistake I did with H@fifi. I regret it to this day. So I said what I could, in place of the principal who was away in Sibu for a meeting with the Director, and my PK1, who was away in Limbang for another meeting in place of the principal. I said, it is a big job, and I won't promise you anything because as a teacher, I know I am not a miracle worker, because change will only happen when one is ready to do so, and not because of what I do and say to her. Her father just nodded and assured me that he understood and accepted that fact.

But since she had broken the hostel rules, she will not be permitted back into the hostel, unless she shows some kind of improvement in attitude in the next couple of months. I can't take her back as much as her dad needs me to because that decision will kill my wardens. She has proven herself to be a handful from day one. Besides, we had been reserving places for more deserving people and there is still a long qeueu.

With her father there, I talked a little bit to her, but when she played with a strand of fallen hair, I took it out of her hand and asked her to look at me. She refused, so I took her hand in mine and refused to let go as she tried jerking it away. I finally let go when she started crying and looking at me with such hatred and anger. She stood up and stormed out of my office, slammed her fist on the open door. Her father apologized for her behavior. But I told him, it's okay. One of my older brother was exactly like her.

He is planning to move back to Lawas in April so he thought moving her to this school would be a fresh start for her. I am sad to say that she had not been the easiest person to deal with these past month. But he's been expecting that, I guess, because he agreed with me totally. His demeanor was total trust. I could see him close to giving up on her. But I know he won't, because parents, no matter how close they feel to the edge, never takes that jump when it comes to their children.

After her left, I went to the school library, right next to my office. After they left, I suddenly felt something dark and heavy looming over my whole being. I needed a distraction. I started talking to Hsnh, who is the library teacher and she was there rearranging some magazines. But out of the blue, I started sobbing. Right in the middle of a sentence! It was so silly of me and embarrassing too. No one had seen me cry for years and I broke that record today.

Madie came looking for me as I was trying to regain control of my sobs. Earlier in the morning, he had asked me to sign some documents in place of the principal and the PK1. I returned to my office and found the thick documents all neatly clipped together on the pile of papers I had left when the boys came running to see me with the bleeding boy. He stood by my desk, fixing my rubber stamp, reinking the self-inking pad and making trial stamps on a discarded phone bill envelope to make sure there was not too much ink on the pad that would blotch up the documents, (or he'll have to re-do them) while I cried huge tears and sobbing non-stop. Great big sobs as I signed pages and pages of documents, trying hard to make out what I was signing in between the tears. Was I glad I had that plastic coating mascara on, or it I would have looked like a harlequin with wet mascara trickling down my cheeks.

Tried stopping. I did stop. But I started crying again and again each time I stopped. He probably could see my embarrassment, so he excused himself promising to come back in a little while to get the papers. Then Mrln stopped by and saw my red nose and puffy eyes. I had already stopped sufficiently to dry my cheeks and tried breathing in between residual sobs.

I was a mess. But it felt like a release of some sort. But it was strange because I was not feeling stressed out at all. Mrln was waiting to go to her class upstairs so she stayed a while and we talked for a little while. I was calm again when it was time for my last class of the day before school was over.

When class was over, it was time for a meeting with the Lemb@g@ Hit@m Berbulu Leb@t. Eh, no, silap. Lemb@g@ Disiplin. I called the meeting over the PA system. We all gathered in the PS. Everyone talked and had their say. Then as I was in the middle on my say, it happened again.

Great huge, heaving sobs that choked me. Attractive... very attractive.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaugh!!!

I know I freaked them out seeing me like that. But it just overwhelmed me to see how committed to their jobs in the committee this year.

I can't help feeling so very grateful after having been left to fend for myself last year after the fiasco with the Kelantanese lunatic bitch. Yes, I have been burned by her big time, I had to say that she is from Kelantan. I am sure the rest of the Kelantan people are very normal, law abiding and great contributors to the society. She just happens to be all that, just a little on the lunatic side. And she hides it well, because I am the only one who knows about that side of her. Anyway, she won, simply because I am the barbaric fat bitch, and she is the little ustazah. Who would you save when the boat is sinking?

I am just glad that things are looking up this year. And it was probably my hormones wreaking havoc in my system. It took me a few seconds to compose myself. The meeting lasted a few more minutes before we adjourned.

I needed to get home. Mrln and Lnd already left with Hnr earlier. The counsellor asked if she could hitch a ride with me home. So with her in tow, I sped off back to town, overtaking all the other teachers who left before I did. Dropped her off at her place and went to the clinic to get some calamine lotion because I have been having some itchy red spots on my thighs and I have no idea where they come from.

Came home, showered and slapped on the lotion all over my legs and fell asleep as it was drying.

I am gonna have some problem sleeping tonight, because I slept for two and a half hours straight. It was awesome!

I'm sure what happened to me today happens to everyone in this field. But this is my personal experience. I want to be reminded of these moments when I lose focus of why I love this job so much and feel useless during my low lows. I hope nothing I write in here will get me into trouble with anyone. If you feel that I might, please tell me.

Long and winding, I know. But I never said, Please Read, did I? But thanks for reading anyway. Me luve you long taim....!!!

:-)

...

Sometimes the littlest things makes me just want to end it all.

I'm sorry for being such a loser.

I'm sorry for being me.

b@h

Have you heard it on the news?

Lawas was flooded. It was the worst in 38 years.

I almost drove into the flood water on the way to school, in the dark. I had my headlights on, so I didn't really go all the way into it, at the roundabout. I managed to brake in time and was glad that there was no car behind me because I didn't even look into the rearview mirror as I was applying the brakes.

In the semi dark, we could see that the water was up to the roundabout, on the plot where the tamu is. Some people had already set up shop for Saturday. So the stalls were then standing in 2 feet of water. I turned the car around and went looking for another exit route. The road in front of the post office was flooded as well. I thought we weren't gonna be able to get to work that morning because I couldn't think of another way out of the town.

I called Hlz to tell her that I can't find a way out and she told me not to worry about getting to school because it looks like it is a huge disaster all over town that morning. She's stuck trying to get out too because cars were lined up not being able to move because the roads were waterlogged. I called another girl whom I know was already on the way to school and asked if they can get out of town. Just as I was telling her that we might not be able to go to school that morning, I thought about the route she takes every morning and realized we can get to school that morning indeed.

I went into Banting around the badminton arena and went on to the newly paved road they blew into the hill which was completed not more than a few months before and we were on our way.

As we came closer to the junction that leads to our school, we could see that Siang-Siang was very badly flooded. It had been flooded many times before but not this bad. The houses that were built on high stilts were standing in water 7-feet deep. Obviously the all-night heavy rain that fell the night before had also fallen there and also in Trusan, a fact we found out later.

The road to school had remained free from any submersion. We got to school in a breeze like any other day. After the usual stuff I did every morning, I heard some kind of commotion outside my door. It was Hlz telling people that the water is rising at one of the lowest point in the road to school and it does not look good, and we might have to close up shop earlier than usual that day. Not to cause panic, we instructed the kids to go for recess first. The electricity was out, pobably due to the floods in town so there was no use of the PA system. We had to go from class to class. The kids already knew they were going to be let off early that morning so they went and asked me and I told them I will tell them later if that is the school's decision in the next few minutes.

We let them off at 9am that morning. And the teachers left after the kids were all gone. On the way out of the village, we came to the low point in the road. There were a few, but that was the lowest one and it was a few meters long. I was nervous, so I let a pick up truck go ahead of me so I can drive safely in its wake. Even then, I lost the front number plates in the water.

Back in town, we went and parked in front of the wisma and went walking here and there to see the full extent of the flood.

The airport was in three to five feet of water. The road going to KK was submerged, no car could pass through so the road to Mer@pok was cut off. Teachers teaching there didn't get to go to work at all that morning. The houses around the airport was in up to four feet of water. I could see some tops of cars in the water.

At the other end, the river had increased at least six times its size and it had overrun its banks, covering the whole town up to the hospital, the supermarket, the post office, the roundabout close to our place and also the tamu.

This morning we went to Sipit@ng to fill up on gas. The gas station in town won't be open for a while. We saw how bad the floods was in Mer@pok and the villages along the road. The sun was shining brightly, so the farmers were out sunning their rice. Thank God, at least they could do that. The rest of the unharvested rice were probably damaged in the flood. There was still stagnant water all over the place, but the road was not submerged anymore as it probably was the night before judging from the mud stains left behind.

In Sipit@ng, even the sea was brown with the sediments that flowed into it with all the rain water.

Back in L@w@s, there was two to three feet of mud everywhere. We stopped by at the airport for a few minutes and could see the clean up job. The guy in charge informed us that the airport will be open again tomorrow. We were planning to go to the supermarket to get a wedding present for a co-worker whose wedding would happen tomorrow. But none of these supermarkets were open, because they were busy logging the damaged goods.

The King tides starts today. I hope it doesn't rain anymore. We don't need the flood to last any longer than it should take its course.

On the more disgusting note, my thighs and hands are covered in red itchy spots. I don't think it is the kalig@te that I always get when I was little. The spots were small and they don't have water in them. I don't know what they are and what caused them. I got it on Tuesday, thought it will go away. But the spots have been bothering me till today so I went to the clinic and got myself some med. I have taken the meds now the ones on my thighs looks like many many overlapping red itchy bumps and the ones on my hands are multiplying and covering the whole of the palms of both hands. They gross me out.

Please go away. I am tired of scratching and scratching is so not sexy.

brow wow!

First, I know I don't have the best brows on the planet.

Second, at least I know when to stop tweezing.

Third, I wonder what happened to these girls.

Fourth, why don't their family and friends slap em silly and make them see the light?

See for yourselves here :

http://famouslikeme.blogspot.com/2008/12/for-your-viewing-pleasure.html

the s*xuals

I hate my school days.

No one was familiar with the term 'late bloomer'. Because most of them were busy being the gedik girls. I loved the more intelligent ones who saw life far beyond snotty nosed secondary school aged boys.

I was labeled a lesbian.

I admit I was not the most nice looking and pleasant teenager in those days, but I was never a lesbian.

I might be a bisexual though.

Take that! How's that for being controversial?

Seriously, my sexual orientation is none of anyone's beeswax. I'm just glad I survived school and get to spend some of the most wonderful years of my life at uni and being surrounded by people who made me understand that it is okay to be different and do things in your own time.

Aku mengantuk. Mata aku bengkak. Tadi aku baca entry CS, aku teringat kat ayah aku. That made me cry buckets.

I have regrets. Huge regrets regarding my father.

But it's just too late now, right?

seein' right thru ya

If I say some men can be stupid, I am probably right.

However, the same rules would apply to women as well.

So, I will simply say it a little differently; some people, regardless of gender, are susceptible to be manipulated.

Therefore, I strongly believe that this woman really did the crime herself. She pulled the trigger.

I'm sorry for her daughter and for her husband for having to part with an exceptional mother and the perfect wife, but she deserves it.

I am such an expert huh?

I am not. But I have a beautiful aunt who is conniving and manipulative. She didn't go as far as killing anyone physcially, but she did a close enough damage to my own mother. So, I know what exactly is going on in the mind of this inherently evil woman whose name is Mechelle Lineh@n. Some women really know how to work their men. We might envy them, surely, but do we really need to be this way with the men in our lives?

Spare me your judgment. You have as much right to your opinion as I do mine. Just don't do your freaky rants here. Write what you think on your own damned blog.

Saw this show on CI Channel 732, and I could see right through her, I really did. Just the fact that she cleaned up really well after she left Alaska was just one of the major things that tells me she is trying to cover up something horrible, even when she opened up about everything in her past.

Believe me, when you do have that huge a sh*t to cover up, confessing to being a stripper and dating three men at the same time is peanuts compared to the real secret.

Click on this link to read about it.

http://www.cbsnews.com/stories/2008/03/06/48hours/main3914454.shtml

hew hew hew

This Page is Rated

R

rotanpanjang.blogspot.com/

Lets101 - Dating Free Online

eek!

Come to think of it...

barbaric

I am so with Suze Orman.

Why the hell are people nowadays so obsessed about spoiling their children with stuff and money? Why is it bad to make them earn their allowance? They will not be children forever and what kind of values are you hoping to teach your kids huh? What kind of adults do you want them to grow up into?

I get allowance because I was born?

How f*cked up do you want your kids to be before you realized that our future is going to be filled by disrespectful ingrates who can't survive the harsh world without a number of credit cards with a mountain of bills?

Lenturlah buluh while it is still the rebung, because waiting till it become buluh will only grant you a fast and hard slap across the face and a broken nose when the buluh refuse to conform to the new shape you wish it to become.

Faham?

I have had a few parents who came to see me and ended up bawling their eyes out telling me that they have done their best to teach their kids, but they are unwilling to listen to them and ask me to teach their kids instead. And I don't mean teach them just English. Literally, pukullah anak saya kalau dia buat jahat kat sekolah, cikgu. Saya kenal dan percayakan cikgu. Boleh?

Boleh, kalau aku ada cukup duit nak bayar denda bila aku kalah kat court nanti, ye tak?

I don't have kids. I cringe at the thought... At the thought of the challenges I would face if one day I am granted these gifts from God. But really, as parents, pelissss lah jangan pandai menghasilkan anak je wei... take the reigns and believe that YOU ARE THE BOSS OF THEM and they bloody hell will do your bidding. Takde maknanya memanjakan anak keterlaluan tanpa mendidik mereka erti kesyukuran.

Sometimes, the kids with the sh*ttiest childhood grow up into really good people. With some kinks and issues, of course. But who doesn't have those? Honestly. And they do have good and colorful character. Great if you have a wonderful fairytale like childhood. So you have bragging right. And that's all you will be; a brag.

Spare it, spoil it.

Yes, I do feel like giving little kids who throws tantrums in malls a great big kick right in the stomach. I would be doing their stupid parents a great favor. And then, I will go to the parent and give him/her a swift backhand right across the face for bringing into the world a shameless devil's spawn.

Bagi couple yang beragama Islam, pleaselah, sebelum berkongkek tu, tak kiralah, nak tiru style India ala-ala K@m@sutra ke or t@ntric ke or style caca marba macam omputeh tanpa mengira venue, waima dalam tandas sekalipun iaitu tempat yang kita semua tahu tempat segala jenis syaithon berteduh tu, lebih-lebih lagi kalau tak pakai protection and boleh menghasilkan zuriat yang halal atau tak tu,BACALAH DOA, supaya semasa the baby in conceived, idak le sempat syaithon tu tumpang sekali the sacred vessel that would be the baby. Yang merana nak mendidiknya nanti, korang jugak, and cikgu-cikgu yang makain hari makin serabut kat sekolah tu. Seputih-putih kain pun, you can keep it white for only so long. Especially when you do not have the tenacity of an artist who can produce a work of art... It's not like you can white out everything and not leave a stain on it.

Wake up and smell the cr*p already!!!

Yeah, yeah, yeah.... I am a total BARBARIAN and I will eat my babies.

p/s: aku hangin hari ni cuz sepanjang hari takde buat apa, menguruskan kes disiplin dan jumpa parents dari pagi sampai habis waktu sekolah. Kau ingat aku takde kerja lain nak buat selain daripada memberus anak-anak korang yang tak reti diajar tu ke?

p/p/s : cikgu-cikgu kat Malaysia semua baik and komited and lemah lembut dengan murid. Aku je yang emo sket kengkadang.

p/p/p/s : yeah yeah yeah... at school, I chop up my students and eat 'em all up. Spare me your preachings because I don't think there is anyone else at the school who is genuinely in love with all of the students and genuinely care about them and the shit they are doing at school is not gonna hang with me. Well, the other teachers genuinely care too, but I am the clean up person, so my level of 'care' is a little more up there compared to them. Heh...

p/p/p/s : - insert expletives -

prebet

So, yesterday I went out with my Love Guru, Mimi. I told him about the whole thing about not knowing what to do now that I don't think it is a good idea to go ahead with the relationship. Oh I share everything with him, as much as he shares everything with me. Except lingerie. We can't fit into each others' stuff.

Anyway, he told me that there is no need to worry about telling him about my decision just yet and ruin a good ride. Whoa. A ride? To where?

He didn't say that of course. But he did say, why put yourself in a spot and create all this pain for the both of you. Instead, give yourself a time frame and if by the time it is over and the relationship is still stagnant, it would be the best time to tell him exactly that; I've given us the time we needed, but now it is time for me to take the time I need to move on.

Which is the simplest and safest thing to do, considering I do respect him and do not feel the need to be nasty to a person of his stature. The fact that he had be patient with me all this while is another factor I have to consider.

I really should turn this thing, this blog thing private, shouldn't I? At first, I thought it would be a good way of sharing what is happening in my life with these few people I love dearly. But lately it has turned into a guy-bashing blog. Well, this one particular guy, actually. It's not right. Whatever f*cked up scheme he has up his sleeve, I shouldn't be telling the world about it. I don't hate him, but why does this negativity keep pouring out of my soul? It's not even spiritual at all.

I should spare the rest of the world this 'washing of the linen out in the www' thing I am doing practically in all my latest entries.

I can just write in my old fashioned real book diary, but then I don't really like writing with my hand as much as I used to. That muscle between my index and middle finger get all bulgy and cramped after a while anyway, considering the amount of words I have to use just to describe a simple situation.

It's easier just typing things out on the computer and save it away on the hard drive. But I am forgetful. Anything that doesn't have a bookmark, I would lose.

So here they are, some of the things that I dare tell the world, because I know for a fact that other than these three people in my life, no one else who drops by here actually know me therefore, whatever cr*p I write in here does not hold any weight. I'm no celeb. Things I say are only relevant to me and these three precious people, Jh, CS and W.

Turning a blog private is only for those celebloggers who got too much fame out of too much shame. I'm just a little person who has found a trash can where she can dump everything and get a great night's sleep and feel her best the next morning.

So, tak payahlah buat private kan?