of not giving a fuck about anything

This thing about not giving a fuck of what people think and just doing your own thing...

Kita manusia.
Sometimes, kita rasa macam malas nak fikir apa org kata, sbb apa pun kita buat, orang tetap akan anggap negatif.
So sikap tak ambil peduli kata orang ni, kadang2 mmg perlu.
Tapi, harap2 jgn la jadikan prinsip hidup, sbb banyak masa, kita perlu ambil peduli pandangan orang, sbb kadang2 org mmg ambil berat tentang kita oleh itu kita wajar ambil berat tentang pandangan dan pendapat orang lain.

Pandai2lah memilih situasi.

Otherwise, kita semua tak ubah seperti a bunch of inconsiderate bastards.

And kita tahu yang dah ada terlalu ramai makhluk jenis macam ni dalam dunia skarang and there is nothing good about that.

of bigots

One way or another, we all are.

of marriage

I respect all married women and their choices to be married.
I wish all of you the best, as you are, THE BEST, for having the strength to go the distance with all those 'stuff' that comes with it.

But if you have a choice, don't.

People are stupid and make the worst decisions when it comes to matters of the heart.

Humans are good, intelligent, well-meaning beings.

Like you.

People, on the other hand, are none of the above.

Get out while you can.

Get out now.


Never marry. Adopt. Raise your kids well so when they grow up, they will replace these stupid people who doesn't know what they have until they lose it.


I don't care what you think.
Don't bother commenting on the contrary.
Don't bother understanding my crap.

Just don't bother.

of things that are ours and things that are theirs.

Kita nak miliki apa yang orang lain miliki, sedangkan kita tak jaga pun apa yang kita dah sedia ada.

Love grows.
Nurture what is already ours.

In shaa Allah, hasilnya sama indah kalau tak lebih daripada apa yang ada pada orang lain tu semua.

of an old lady's anguish

On the way home, the daughter stopped by at a grocery store. She got a few ringgits left in her purse, but mom had wanted some beef masak lemak cili api. So she got some beef and a few sticks of lemongrass.

In the garage at home, she dropped her car key in that tiny space between the seat and the handbrake. She tried reaching for it buy the damned thing seemed to slip further down.

She sighed. Stepped out of the car and dumped her work bag, her handbag, the bag that had the beef and lemongrass and her coffee thermos cup on the garage floor and stooped down to reach for the key which had slipped under the drivers seat.

Then she picked up her stuff from the garage door and proceeded to unlatched the unwieldy latch on the gate. Stepped on the back patio and knocked on the back door a few times. No answer. It was locked. Mom must have fallen asleep while watching tv.

She knocked again a little louder. She hoped mom would hear it. Nope. No answer. She knocked again, this time practically banging on the door like everybody else had done whenever there is no answer from inside when they know there's indeed someone home.

And on the fourth banging on the door which was much louder than the last, she she's as greeted by a blood curdling howl of fury from inside the house. It sounded like mom. Only angrier and more monstrous. There... She's made mom mad. Yet again.

All she could make out of her angry yelling was that someone had taken her money from her purse and she is super angry and now she is even madder cuz she had to pray again because I banged on the door so loud she had to stop halfway. And she also raged how all her kids are making her so miserable and that she should just die and end all this earthly sufferings.

Well, the door was usually unlocked at that time of the day. Mom must've locked it again by mistake.

That person who stole mom's money was not her, so even after the door was open, she just stood there looking wistfully into space trying to will the neighbors into unhearing whatever they had heard when mom yelled while struggling with the stupid inside latch. They were not pretty stuff to listen to.

It was a good five minutes before she picked up all her stuff from the patio floor that she had dropped after having stood there for five minutes trying to wake mom whom she thought was sleeping.

She herself had stopped taking her hypertension pills for 5 days now. Her aching joints and muscles are all better now. But until she got replacement pills from the government clinic which she does not have a referral to yet, she will have to dig deep for serenity in the midst of all the noise and chaos.

What was happening today was nothing. She went inside. Put her stuff away. Went upstairs. Took off her hijab and wiped off her make up. Turned on the ac and went back downstairs quietly. Mom had started her prayers again by the time she was back in the kitchen.

She just went and sliced the beef. Black nded shallots, garlic, ginger and chilies. Dumped everything into a wok. Covered everything with some water and put them on the stove.

As the stuff bubbled away, she typed this  story.

She texted her sister arranging a schedule between her and her sister for mom's doctor's appointment on Friday, and her Haj course on Saturday.

She also texted that person who took mom's money and told her how much trouble she was in.

Then texted her sister-in-law about it. Then her sil texted her back telling her that the money was accidentally given to the tailor by that person.

And she will have to pick up that person from her sil's place later. Poor girl. All this because of some misplaced money.

She had to pour in the coconut milk into the beef stewing on the stove now. Take a shower, pray, and go get her baby from the sitter. And go get that person too.

Mom better not stay mad by the time they all get home. And eat something. Poor woman.

of my transfer

Finally, I made the effort to apply for a transfer last September and my application had been approved.

Finally got the letter through the fax last Friday.

Finally, having anxiety issues, had the guts to call my new principal and ask for an extension until after the CNY break.

Finally...
Truly packing up all my crap and transitioning into my new life with my little boy, as a Selangorian again, after a very long and happy 15 years of being away.

There had been shitty stuff in the past 5 years of my life.
But I don't feel like talking about that tonight.

Lina, just be happy that last year, you got a son that you adore.

Anyway....

In my heart, there is a heaviness, a sadness, but at the same time there is a gladness that most people would probably feel when they are returning home for good.

I will always seem like my chirpy self. I am always happy. Well, nowadays at least. The last 4 years was hard on me. I have finally climbed out of that deep dark hole of self-loathing for having fallen for that age old trick when I thought I had done nothing to deserve it.

Well, such is life!

Let's see ...

I like that I can be with family again after so long.
Safer and have the support I need after the crazy last few years that I have had to endure on my own being so far away from home.

I hate the packing up and the clearing up of my office of 10 years.
Been here 15 years.
Had that office for 10.

I super hate leaving this village and its people...
They have been so very kind to me.
Will miss them so much.

But it is high time for me to go.
And the time is right even when I will never be ready to leave.

Bila la anyone is truly ready for anything, right?

Just closing my eyes and jumping off the edge.
I'll land somewhere and learn to be happy there too.

Somehow.

of 'pre-occupations'

This was what I originally posted on Monyet King's wall as a comment on his PTPTN update.
I had never had any second thoughts about the jobs I ever had. These experiences, like all experiences just lingered at the back of my mind.

I never really thought about them.
I even thought I had it easy.

Having put it down on paper, I feared that I might have glorified my life experiences with the jobs I had before I started with my current one, I asked my most trusted chronicler, my dear, dear younger sister, W.

 I asked her on iMessage,
"Do you remember how it was, growing up?"
I attached the comment I posted in the message and asked her another question.
"Was it something like this... Or was I just dreaming it up?"

Her answer, as always, was the simplest few words she could muster to appease her ADHD-ridden sister;
"You didn't dream it up."

So, with that, I will share with you, the jobs I have ever had in all its grammatical and spelling error glory:

First job...
Helping my dad mix concrete.
Susun brick.
Make mortar for the brick.
Bring the mixed concrete loaded into yellow pails from the mixing place to the acuan tiang concrete, pass it up to him so he can pour it down the top.
Brick laying, dad tak kasi buat cuz he was very particular about having laid down straight.
I mixed plaster as well.
1:2:3 ratio... But what is what... X remember.

Painted the window panes. I almost fell through the roof when the old asbestos porch roof broke away under my weight as I was painting the panes. I held on to my dear life onto the newly installed window pane. My asthmatic mother, for the first time in years ran up the stairs to pull me back into the room, as my neighbor laughed at pants split down crotch all the way to the back, cuz I had one leg hooked onto the window pane. I was trying to hoist myself back into the bedroom through the window when I heard the third crack before the roof fell away from underneath me, leaving me dangling there with both arms and a leg holding on to the pane while other leg was dangling in the air underneath me.

Thank God the mortar securing it to the wall had dried through or it might have fallen along with me onto the porch below.

Dad ended up having to install new asbestos roof, replace the broken trusses, and install new ceiling.
I did pretty much anything and everything to help dad build our house extension, with the 12k my mom got for her grade duty upon her retirement.

Dad was a jack of all trades. To optimize the money, we decided not to hire anyone. Just me, my little sister and my older brother when he come home from work.
We built 2 additional bedrooms, 1 bath, 1 toilet, 1 small corner for the stove.
I don't remember how much my dad paid me, but the wage included the full-length mirror I had been wanting for my room.

Second job,
Mini market staff.
Then promoted to cashier.
Don't remember the pay either.

Third job,
Baby sitter.... 4 kids.
Came home in between classes to bathe, feed and play with them.
One of them comes at 5am.
Sometimes stayed 2 to 3 days with us.
She considered me her mommy.
She is now in form 4 and still come to visit during school holidays.
They were supposed to be under my mom's care, but i think mom have had enough with toddlers. But these desperate parents left their wee babies with us anyway. So to make things easier for my mom, i did all the job.
Paid with nothing but the love and joy I got from taking care of them.

Fourth and fifth jobs went simultaneously during the long semester break;
Pagi, go to teach kindergarten (lied to the headmistress about bad SPM grades to get the job)
Petang to malam go to work at a speaker component manufacturing plant in Bangi.
Don't remember the pay.
But factory worker, where got payment like execs.

6th job....
Sony Video Bangi.
Stood up all day, slept with pillow elevating my feet cuz knees hurt from standing from morning till time we get off work, as operator pengeluaran.
Forced to do OT whether I like it or not.

Somewhere in between i was also the sambal tumis cook for my mom's nasi lemak. Would cook a whole fresh batch every week day in a huge kawah. Would cook it the night before as i have class in the mornings so waking up so early in the morning jual to make the sambal would mean I will sleep during classes. Ibu will just have to heat it through in the morning. She jual the nasi lemak after she retired just for fun.
Paid with nasi lemak.

7th job...
Teacher, wrangler, motivational speaker, counsellor, nurse, torture officer, surrogate mother, tukang maki, tukang nasihat, tukang motivate parents, tukang motivate budak, jail warden, judge, jury and executioner at current school.
Paid more than I can ever dream of.

The first six jobs, all while i was doing my bachelor's degree at UPM.
Stayed at home cuz it's 5 minutes to class from my parents' place.
Dad's passed on in 2004.
I graduated in 1999.

I didn't actually need the money, as I got a full JPN scholarship.
The one extravagant spending I did was on a computer for assignments.
The only internet thing I was crazy about was mirc.
No cellphone. Started owning n using one at 27 cuz where i was posted in the rurals of Sarawak, there was no point owning one as there was no coverage where i was.

I used some of my scholarship to buy fish, meat, chicken and other dry grocery to fill up my parents' pantry. They never asked me to do any such thing, but i did it gladly.
The money i got from the first 6 jobs was to help cover home expenses while waiting for the next semester's scholarship.
They never asked. I wanted to do it.

I x go shopping because i x know how.
Curfew at my parents' place for us kids was at 6pm.
Even now, as old as I am, visiting mom, I x feel the need to stay out so late.
My life was home-class-home-class-home-theatre rehearsals-home and the odd silat sessions i quit after a few confusing lessons.
No lepaking outside with coursemates.
Mom and dad would never stop me if i asked.
But home was heaven to me, that cramped PKNS house mom got for RM18k.
And of course, i had those toddlers waiting for their obligatory motorbike ride around the housing area before moms and dads came to pick them up.
I pretty much had my hands full.

I don't ever feel like I lost out on my youth.

I am grateful I managed to help my mom n dad eversince I entered uni.
Not being a burden to anyone was my goal and i did the best i could until today.

Lessons i learned?
Experience is a good teacher.
A lot of things in life, we x learn in classrooms.
If i can do it all over again, i would maybe next time around i will include opening a burger bakar stall. Hahaha.