Angkat Bakul, Masuk Dalam

I plopped down on the booth seat opposite Khalis at Bubba Gump, Shrimp & Co. in Navy Pier, excited about my first visit to the much celebrated restaurant. There was so much hullabaloo about Bubba Gump back in Malaysia during the summer, so I was pretty delighted about this first visit. As soon as I got settled in my seat, down jacket and gloves aside, a waiter in a gray t-shirt passes by our table, and I noticed his eyes widen as he passed our table. I thought he was just acknowledging my presence, and saying hi in a non-verbal way since his hands were full, as I was sure his thoughts were as well. I got to reading the menu and didn't give that any other thoughts.

Having ordered our dishes, Khalis and I got to the main core of our existence: camwhoring!
As we snapped pictures away, I couldn't help but notice the same guy behind the bar beside our table. Apparently he was the bartender of the night. I didn't look at him because he's exceptionally cute, buff, or handsome in any way. In fact, I only looked at him because I noticed him looking at our table. Not once, not twice, but thrice! Thankfully, he wasn't glancing at Khalis; which must only mean one thing: he was looking at me! And that set this horrible perasan phase in motion.

Nj: Khalis, khalis, aku nak cakap ni. Kena cakap dalam BM dowh. And make sure, kau jangan pandang terus lepas aku cakap ni tau.
K: Apa hang nak cakap? Hang nampak orang handsome lagi?
Nj: Tak tak! Kau nampak tak mamat waiter kat bar tu, bartender pakai gray t-shirt tu? Dia usha aku, sumpah, dowh!
K: Whattevah. 'Pelacur dunia ketiga' kowt.
Nj: Sumpah, sumpah. Cuba kau tengok dowh!

I pretended not to take any more notice and got occupied enough once I was served my Cajun Mahi-mahi something something. It was sinfully delicious, and lick-worthy, I tell you, that the $25 bucks I paid for the meal was certainly worth it even if my $$ in my bank account is slowly reaching that dark, deep abyss. But back to the main point of the story; if looks could kill, this man's persistent gazing certainly could have rendered me deformed, the very least.

Nj: Khalis, sumpah dowh, mamat tu usha lagi.
K: Heh, SS kowt.
Nj: SS? Apekah?
K: Syok sendiri lah hang.
Nj: Owh, but no, seriously.
K: *turns swiftly into the bartender's direction*
Nj: Heh, tak perlu kowt pandang terus. Obvious lah like that!
K: Apa-apa jelah.

. . . 11 minutes later
K: Nj, okay. Aku nampak. Tadi dia usha kau siot!
Nj: Hah! *Gives K a triumphant grin* Kan aku dah cakap. Sumpah ke? Bile? Macamane dia usha?
K: *rolls eyes*
Nj: Ala, layanlah aku. Sekali-sekala maa, mane ade orang slalu usha aku!
K: Haha, hang SS lah tu.
Nj: Haha, takdelah. Flattering dowh!

Uh-oh, the evil perasan devil was then unleashed and that dinner's discussion revolved around Mr. Bartender through and through.

K: Kau tengok hidung dia, aku rase die Jewish siot.
Nj: Haha, takde kaitan.

Mr. Bartender came over to the table behind Khalis and I saw him glancing at me several times as he took their orders. Determined not to show I realized his eye-games, I focused on my dish; until he came to our table, asking us if "everything was alright" and specifically looking at me and only me.

K: Nampak sangat dia pandang kau sorang jelah kan. Slut betul, nampak sangat nak flirt ngan kau.
Nj: Haha, well, better daripada dia nak flirt ngan kau kan. Euw. Ooh, aku rase dia pandang aku 'cos aku datang ngan engkau kot.
K: Ha, yelah. Baguslah. Add one more reason Nj should hang out with Khalis. Dapat menang $25 Wicked tickets, dapat orang minat . . .
Nj: *laughs and flips hair in a very blonde manner*

Mr. Bartender certainly tried his best. He went to our table twice, once before we asked for the check, and another time after, just to grab one item each time. He could have waited to clear the table all at once, but we hypothesized he just wanted the chance to mengada-ngada come to our table.

K: Oooooh, kot-kot nanti dia slip kau note tulis number dia.
Nj: *Gasps* Heh, takkanlah!
K: Hahaha. 'Pelacur dunia ketiga' gila kau!
Nj: Haha. Sumpah tak bangga *Dalam hati, kembang gila; hidung macam nak koyak, hati macam nak jerit, tekak macam nak gelak*

I blatantly confess that I enjoyed the whole spectacle and attention by that time. I took time to finish my glass of plain water, just so I could catch him looking at me. Since Khalis called me a 'pelacur dunia ketiga' (no, don't jump the gun, it's quite an affectionate term the knoxes came up with, not as bad as you think it sounds), I decided to put that to a test, and made sure Khalis took a picture of me with my shades, because I thought I would look even (bear with me here) cuter. And he did, but I didn't get to see what effect that had on Mr. Bartender.
As Khalis and I got up to leave, Mr. Bartender stood next to our waitress and I had a hunch he was there specifically to see me leave. Our lady waitress called out "Thanks for coming, have a good night" and Mr. Bartender looked at me the whole time I said "Thank you. You both have a great night, and Merry Christmas". I decided to have the last look, and Mr. Bartender certainly did not let me down. At the corner of my eye, I saw him looking and smiling at me until I was out of sight, or rather, in the souvenir shop section of Bubba Gump.

If baking cookies the other night gave me a pinch of self-esteem, this was like overdosing on it! I was a real 'pelacur dunia ketiga' who enjoyed her little moment of perasan-ness. After all, every woman needs a reminder that she is pretty, cute, elegant, stylish, attractive or whatever nice adjectives there are to describe her, occasionally. Hm, but really. . . If anybody in Chicago wants to eat at Bubba Gump, Shrimp & Co., call me! It'd be my pleasure to take you there! *winks*

Small Talk and Verbal Niceties, Please!

Loyola Red Line Stop, 2.30pm:

I was waiting for the #155 bus that would take me to Devon Street and wildly disbelieving the temperature since I was shivering to no end even though I have on wellies and my warmest down jacket. I shifted from leg to leg, and blew hot air onto my gloved hands while cursing the subzero temperature.

Suddenly, a Desi lady donning a black pea coat and head scarf with protruding henna-ed hair stood opposite me and smiled, looking like she wanted to make small talk. Having mastered the art of small talk, and kononnya very confident among strangers, I decided to relieve her of the torture and made the first step.

"It's very cold today, huh?".
"Yess. Werrry coll".

I made a show of trembling and stuffing my hands deeper into my down jacket pocket and violently shaking my legs to ease the numbness that was creeping up my toes. That was done for fully functional reasons as well as aesthetical (to further demonstrate my question-statement).

"So are you waiting (pronounced waiding) for the 151?".
"I'm an ESL student".

Aaah, her strong Indian/Pakistani accent betrayed her, and I could tell that, like me, she's not from around even before she misunderstood my question. To not embarrass her, I ignored her reply and asked again.

"Oh, yes, I'm going to Devon".

So we stood there for another 5 minutes, while I ceaselessly tried to forget the cold by rubbing my hands that was under my pockets, against my jeans.

The lady looks at me and after a long while exclaims, "You should realllly wear a long coatteh. I know children don't like to wear long coatt but you should really try it!".

I gave her a dirty look, just as the #155 pulled up to the bus stop, and just as she turned away.

*Aduh* Strike one for me.

Super Clips Salon, Devon St., 3.10pm:

I was lying on my back, stinging from the underarm waxing I just received and throat still dry from laughing since I am one sadly ticklish girl. Shahanaz, my waxer, was attempting to wax my legs then. She was a warm middle-aged woman who made me feel very much at ease and in that short amount of time we were already talking about my winter break plans, his son eating unhealthy junk food like pizza and fries (She'd be ghastly horrified if she heard about my diet during finals week) and our Thanksgiving sale catches.

"Aaah, no wonder those glamorous career women and rich mak Datins and Puan Seris all have a specific hairstylist from a specific shop; these sessions are heart-to-heart sessions as well", so I thought to myself. I vowed that instant that I was gonna quickly climb the ladder at wherever I'm working at and get a good pay so that I could afford monthly trips to the salon to receive this kind of pampering and indulgence.

Intermittently interrupting my thoughts were the "oohs" and "ouches" coming from my mouth every time she did her thang. *Sigh* A fantastic time in sunny Florida is all I think about to justify the pain I'm putting myself through. Since our conversation was coming to a lull, I felt the necessity for another session of small talk.

"This is only my second time waxing. People tell me that the more I do the more the hair doesn't grow, right?".
"No. The more you do, the more it DOESN'T grow".

I smiled to myself, wondering why these Desis can't seem to hear very well.

"Hehe, I'm quite hairy, huh?".

That was totally an attempt to continue the small talk, since I vehemently believe I'm not as hairy as Hairy Harry (pun intended) nor do I have man-like curling hair on my legs. Besides, the last time I tried that line on my waxer also on Devon, but at a different shop, she totally disagreed (exactly the reaction I was expecting).

But no. "Yessh. I can see that".

Sheesh, this woman must have standards of her own. Rather skewed standards though, since I'm sure, at the risk of sounding racist here, that Desis are very hirsute people, even the women. Isn't that why there are so many waxing salons in Devon, anyways??

Strike two.

After that blow to my ego, I kept myself busy by reading "The Paris Review Book of People with Problems" book I brought with me. That was, until she told me to turn around and lie on my stomach.


I obeyed her, and received another slap to thy self-esteem.

"Boyyy. Yourrr legs at the back even hairrrierr".

Strike three.

WTF. She must be jesting with me. There is no way I am hairier than she is. I don't think my hairiness comes close to any of the Pakistani/Indian people I've met. In fact, I know of a friend who waxes everything from her upper lip, to her arms to her tummy and legs. Screw the lady.

But she didn't give up.

"You want me to do your arrms as well? I give you 10 dollars, jii? Usuallly 15 dollars".

Strike four (Or I'm out, by now?)

#X55 Eastbound bus, en route to 54th and Hyde Park Blvd., 7.02pm:

I was sitting at the back of the bus, next to the window and thanking my lucky stars that the bus arrived just as I did at the Garfield Red Line stop that I didn't have to freeze my ass off in the cold. I was busy wiping the foggy window and peering outside when I caught a Black man looking at me.

"Whaadddupp, beautiful?"

Ah! Blissful words, his. Any given day I would have just ignored the comment and would have averted my gaze. But my self-esteem has been tempered with the whole day. I returned his glance and smiled widely. It took much self-restraint not to hug him and tell him he made a girl's day.

Pray for Nenek

Hi. If you happen to read this, do pray for my nenek, my dad's mother. My sister just told me that she's warded in UH, PJ on December 16th, Malaysian morning time. My brother and my sister visited her during lunch hours, and she was in pretty bad shape. But then, in the evening she took Yaya and Ayiel to visit nenek again and she looks a lot better.

I know I should accept whatever happens, and nenek is already 85+, but all the same, I can't be there. I haven't gotten through my dad, and I know he doesn't plan on telling me, that's why he didn't even text me. In April-May this year, none of my family members contacted me for a long time, because they were hiding something from me. It wasn't until Midwest Games (May 24-26) that they suddenly called me, and slow-talked me to tell me what happened.

What did they expect me to do? Laugh? Of course I'll cry. What with not knowing something as crucial as that, and me worrying about why they didn't contact me, and not telling me when I texted/called them?? Alhamdulillah that things worked out then, but what if it was the opposite? What if it was bad news? Would my grandmother (wan, not nenek) be adamant that I didn't know until I came back for the summer (which she didn't even know of, since my going back was a surprise)? Would they only give in when it's too late??

Aaargh, I don't understand why they must keep things from me. I'm turning 20 next year, I have every right to know. If I find out things last minute, the more lah I'll fret and worry and cry tersedu-sedu because I feel guilty I didn't know. Don't they know that???? I mean, I knowlah they don't want to me to worry because I'm all alone here in Chicago, but to me, I'd rather know and not be shocked by bad news all of a sudden, when it's too late.

Anyways, yes, please pray that she gets well soon, or Allah will bless her in any case. I don't know why she's warded, she's mainly healthy. I'm guessing it's just sakit tua. Thank you all.

Bring These Words to Moscow

I know he doesn't read my blog, and I know some of you may think it's pointless, but I'm just gonna go ahead and fill this snippet with my birthday wishes to that lad in Moscow.

December 16, 2008

Dear Shahrul,

Happy 20th birthday. My friend told me that if I don't call you on your special day, the relationship is as good as over. And I don't want that. If it's gonna end, it's gonna end properly, with you telling me what you want, or till that day I finally see the light at the end of this tunnel.

And so I called, and I'm glad that you sounded happy even if we only talked for a split second before your friends bombarded your room to celebrate your birthday. Seriously, I'm not mad at all, I hope you don't think I was angry. You deserve some time off there in Moscow, and I know how it feels to be overwhelmed by friends who actually care enough to come and sing you birthday songs and pull pranks on you.

Two years have not been easy, and I appreciate every single thing we've gone through. It's rather easy for everyone to just say I need to move on, I know, but there's just so many things I'm thinking about. I think too much about the future, about not getting married, about not finding the "perfect" (of course, imperfect, but just the way I want him to be) man, and about maybe letting go of the person who might be the one. And maybe I've been making you sound really bad by whining about this dying relationship to people who don't know you, and who'd obviously take my side. But they don't know that you're a great guy, albeit poyo to some, but still my very important poyo person.

You were a good friend before you were a lover. I enjoyed the dinners we had at INTEC, and the conversations we shared. It's crazy to think what time and distance can do to you, because I know it's not very long ago when we could SMS like nobody's business and you'd call me everyday, for our short conversations, just the way I like it (yes, I don't really like to gayut lame-lame).

As my boyfriend, I must thank you for the countless times you paid for my movies, paid for my meals, walked me back home to mama's house (haha, and had to endure the interrogation session she gave you), waited for me although it killed you. I truly exercised my tyranny, knowing that I could do anything to you and get away with it. Haha. Although I complain that you don't write me cards, or send me presents, I like the way you hugged me, held my hands and looked at me like I'm the only person in the room, dengan tanpa pura-pura depan orang lain. That's one reason why I like you, because what you see is what you get.

Of course there're many things if I could, I would change about you, but then again, I'm not always perfect, aren't I? I've not been a good girlfriend in many ways, and that I openly confess now. But as I told Ems and Ainul when I was so swooned by this relationship, you've got the tangan berurat2 (haha), jari runcing (yes!), and the power main bola/sports quality-so dah pass banyak aspects of my QC. Most importantly, you are confident (not the tak lepas laku, tak reti cakap kind), and you've got so much drive in you.

However, as time progressed, I must admit I let my ideals get in the way, especially when I look at some of my friends whose boyfriends are rich, who can drive them around everywhere, buy them expensive presents, take them for those romantic dinners I've always been bugging you about; when I should have appreciated you just the way you are.

Surprise surprise, now that I write this, I realize that I've just been a spoiled girl who has too many ideals, and that never helps a relationship. But so much has lapsed between us, and I don't know what I feel about us anymore. And you saying "ntahla, i don't know lah" doesn't help much for me to feel this again. I just want you to tell me whether you still want me and it's just that your course is taking up your life, but you still want to go on with it. Or the other way around, whatever rocks your pansies (or boxers, in this case, haha. Haiyo, can still buat lawak).

All that aside, again I just wanna wish you a very happy birthday. If things don't turn out the way we thought it would, I guess I'll try to smile because it happened, and not dwell on why it's over. Thank you for everything, sayang.

Ada Kelakarnya Di Sebalik Randomness

On top of the random changes I made (yes, I changed my sidebar titles again, as you can see), I was also playing around with the Blog Readability widget I randomly found on some random person's blog. Sorry, because I was randomly meandering through cyberspace, randomly hopping from one blog to another, I can't even cite which webpage I took it from. Sorry mister/miss random blogger, and thank you, you've made one random visitor's day!

Urm, all randomness aside now, I tried out the calculator and randomly copy-pasted different people's blogs. From my blogroll list, it seemed to give me very random results. Suffice to say that some of you won't be too pleased with the results I got, and I must say I disagreed with some of its calculations (ceh, semangat setiakawan ini boleh tahan). Jangan marah tau that I took the liberty of doing so, al-maklumlah I've got time and play on my hands now, peace ya'll *in ghetto style*=P But...when I plugged in Dr. M's, Anwar Ibrahim's and KJ's urls, I think the results would make many happy and in fact throw people into long fits of merry laughter like it did me.

Let pictures do the talking, shall we?

Case #1

Case #2

Lo and behold!

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Case #3

*Rolling on the floor laughing* My brother--who'd perpetually bitch about KJ and the tingkat empat boys at home--will find this most hilarious. To think that the poor fellow was educated at UWC Singapore, Oxford and then UCL, with an impressive concentration in PPE, mind you. Bazir duit mak bapak (or rakyat, in some sense since his dad was the Malaysian High Commissioner to the UK) kerana Dr. M and Anwar Ibrahim didn't travel far and wide to learn and nonetheless managed to produce a "genius-level" blog.

But then again, we're talking about a man who called himself monkey (in reference to his saying bloggers are monkeys). Hm, mungkin ada kebenaran di sebalik segala kerandoman blog widget ini. Whatever it is, if any of you people are insane and would like to meet this very the "hencem", bollywood hero-like mat cemerlang, you'd wanna know that he hangs out at Chef&Brew at Plaza Damansara. Euw. My brother now refuses to dine there because he saw the man sitting with a laptop, calmly sipping coffee while probably plotting his next strategy to loot the nation.

p/s: Click here if you randomly want to see if this works randomly or not.

Regenstein Hari Ini

Jam 6.45 petang-- Keluhan panjang muncul setiap 10 minit di hujung bibirku. Entah mengapa sehari setengah sebelum hari peperiksaan baru ilham dan perasaan cemas itu datang. Sekarang, haa, aku terima padah kena menelaah balik kesemua set masalah bagi subjek Kalkulus Pelbagai Anu yang tampaknya sangat memeritkan. Hai, aku dah belajar Pengganda La Grange dalam Analisis Mikroekonomi Pertengahan tiga minggu sebelum belajar benda yang sama dalam kelas matematik ini. Macam tak guna je ambil kelas ini. Berpinar-pinar mata aku tengok integrasi tiga gandaan, gambarajah tiga dimensi, Yaakobian dan produk silang vektor. Penat-penat. Tapi aku puji diri sendiri dah buat nota yang sangat kemas dan komprehensif untuk 2 ujian sebelum ini. Sekarang tinggal baca dan praktis je. Yelah, sebab aku ni kan obsesif kompulsif sedikit, harus buat balik semua latihan baru rasa lega.

Hm, tapi biasalah, setiap 10 minit yang aku berkeluh tadi, setiap kali itulah mataku meliar ke sana ke mari. Awal tadi ada mat salleh yang sangat lah hencem duduk makan sandwic Subway depan aku. Sekurang-kurangnya dapat jugalah bangunkan diri dan cuci mata (walaupun terasa sangat-sangat terganggu dengan rambutnya yang perang gelap dan keningnya yang sangat sempurna). Orangnya nampak lemah lembut dan sopan, makan Subway takde bunyi krap krup krap. Aku pun tak makan Subway (yang memang konfem bersepah) sebegitu kemas! Wah, lagilah mata ini nak usha! Hai, malangnya hiburan hati itu hanya buat sementara. Dia pergi sambung tulis esseinya di komputer bertentangan meja kami, dan memang dah sehari suntuk aku tengok dia menghadap komputer itu. Ini mesti kes sama dengan hampir 90% penghuni di Regenstein di ambang peperiksaan ini: tiada keimanan dan semangat diri.

Memang perpustakaan Regenstein kalau tengah-tengah minggu peperiksaan ini, ramai aja penghuninya yang muka separuh mati. Aku salah sorang. Dengan beg, "kot bawah" dan selendang dicampak atas kerusi sebelah, kertas-kertas conteng bertaburan atas meja, bekas makanan ringan terbuka dua tiga (khususnya Flipz, pretzel bersalut coklat yang sangat uupmmh sedapnya), telefon mobil di tangan dan Ipod di telinga; aku epitomi pelajar UChicago yang skema. Padahal sebenarnya hanya suka buat kerja minit terakhir. Ala, di manakah syoknya kalau buat kerja terlampau awal kan? Lagipun, aku memang lagi menonjol kalau buat kerja saat terakhir, kerana perasaan perlu-buat, perlu-habiskan, dan aaah-penat-dan-tak-tahan-mahu-habiskan menguasai diri.

Hish, tapi, kalau-kalau dah tak boleh beri konsentrasi yang sepenuhnya, apa boleh buat? Takkan nak asyik-asyik semak peti mel-elektronik dan dengan perasannya baca blog sendiri berulang kali? Aku pasti orang lain yang tengok aku sekejap-sekejap pergi dekat komputer belakang tu tahan gelak aje. Haha, kalau aku jadi diorang pun aku gelak, gelak dalam hati sebab memang semua orang sama aja, suka bazir masa! Buntu, aku ambil jalan mudah. Rehatkan minda sambil buat kegemaran masa lapangku: usha keadaan sekeliling!

Aku lihat gadis gempal di sebelah aku tadi yang datang dengan seorang wanita berambut kerinting. Tadi muka dia macam stres sangat, pegang 4-5 buku yang tebal. Aku agak mesti kena tulis esei yang berpuluh-puluh muka surat. Huuuu, itu semua dah aku tempuhi tahun lepas, sekarang ni selamatlah. Hoh, aku pun ambik inisiatif jalan-jalan dengan tujuan mahu tengok telatah orang. Aaah, gadis-gadis yang ranggi pakaian mereka, lengkap dengan but UGGS, sibuk menyemak laman Mukabuku dengan macbook masing-masing.

Opocot, tak sedar pulak aku ada pasangan di bahagian depan, berhampiran dengan ensikoplodia ruang bacaan, sibuk bercumbu-cumbuan! Insiden yang jarang-jarang berlaku! Aku tak bohong! Sudah banyak kali aku bilang pada rakan-rakan bahawa universitiku memang tiada orang yang lakukan Tayangan Intimasi Umum. Ternyata aku salah. Oh, dan haruskah aku selitkan bahawa jejaka itu India, dan gadis itu mat salleh? Ini bukan kali pertama aku nampak kombinasi sebegini. Nampaknya orang India Amerika bahan hangat dan dicari-cari. Kata rakan aku sebab orang India Amerika sangat konfiden, ala-ala jantan sejati. Heh, pada fikiran nakalku, mungkin bulu-bulu dada mereka yang gadis-gadis ini cari, tidak lain tidak bukan!

Oh, sekembalinya aku ke meja, nampaknya gadis gempal sudah ada teman! Ghairah je muka dia baca nota sambil berpegangan tangan dengan temannya yang boleh tahan rupa. *Keluh* Memang jadi budaya kolej di mana-mana, berkepit dengan pasangan masing-masing. Pada akhir hari, rakan taulan ditinggalkan. Haha, nasib temanku (entah masih atau tidak) tidak belajar di sini juga, jadi aku tidak tergolong dalam "kawan lupa kawan kerna cinta".

Tak sampai setengah jam kemudian, bekas teman serumah (yakni sistem rumah, bukan apartmen) yang jalan mendada dan sangat menjelikkan lalu dan beriku senyuman sinis. Nama dia Jordan, macam kasut Air Jordan. Seharusnya memang kasut itu disumbat dalam mulutnya atau dituju ke mukanya yang bagai meminta-minta untuk disepak. Aku teringat kembali peristiwa dalam kelas Kemanusiaan aku tahun lepas dia buat dono je dekat aku dalam perbincangan tiga-sekumpulan. Die pandang rendah aku tak reti beri pendapat dan bercakap dalam publik! Hah, kesilapan besar! Aku boleh buka mulut besar ini, dan karya penulisan aku pun sehandal kau, tau! Tiap-tiap esei aku dapat A tau untuk kelas tu!

Dia datang dan pergi; aku sambung buat Matematik dan terganggu lagi. Aku toleh ke kanan, ke arah meja gadis gempal dan teman lelakinya yang bermesra itu, dan gadis itu rupa-rupanya sedang bersiap untuk pergi. Sejurus kemudian, aku pandang lagi sekali. Lelaki itu sibuk mengorek hidungnya dengan penuh syahdu! Hehe, geli-geleman. Tapi aku paham benar, kerana aku juga suka kopek kulit kering di telinga aku sambil belajar. Itu tidak kira dengan tabiat aku mengetap gigi dan main dengan rambut. Kalau dulu zaman-zaman aku ada kelemumur, aku suka kopek kelumumur (yang berkeping-keping astaga besar) dan jatuhkan atas meja sebab aku nak tengok berapa banyak yang aku dapat. Tapi aku tidaklah korek hidung di publik, rasanya itu terlampau peribadi. Tralalala.

Jam 12.15 tengah malam-- Sedar tak sedar, dah masa untuk aku pulang ke bilik. Alamatnya hanya berpoya-poya melayari blog orang, semak Mukabuku dan tidak sambung belajar jika aku balik. Tapi rasanya aku dah buat apa yang patut untuk hari ini. Besok takkan pergi (kecuali aku pergi dulu). Pakailah aku semula selendang, "kot bawah" dan kemaslah aku segala sampah sarap yang telah aku kumpul sejak pagi tadi bertandang ke Regeinstein. Ramai juga yang bergegas untuk mengejar bas jam 12.20. Sambil menunggu lif (kerana kami golongan malas tidak mahu turun tiga tingkat tangga), kami saling berpandangan, seolah-olah membisikkan "Aku tak buat banyak harini, aku tau kau jugak tidak. Nampaknya besok hari yang panjang lagi. Kau dan aku berdua. *Keluh*".

Ya, besok aku bakal tempuhi hari yang sama di Regenstein.

rahsia selepas (r/s): Minta maaf bunyi sedikit kasar gunakan "Aku". Rasanya "saya" tidak aka mendatangkan kesan yang saya mahukan. "Aku" bunyi lebih bersahaja untuk kisah-kisah mencuit hati sebegini, tidak begitu?=P Sebelum terlupa, di sini saya ingin mengucapkan salam Hari Raya Aidiladha buat semua. Pelajar-pelajar di perantauan pasti paham rasa tidak raya seperti yang saya rasakan ini. Terutamanya kerana ada peperiksaan menanti. *Keluh dan keluh lagi*.

She Ain't Taking It No More

Dear Ipod Touch,

I know you won't take it well if I play this video for the 123rd time now. I figured I'd do you a big favor and put an end to your misery. Ah ah ah. Momentarily, dear. I shall now transfer my obsession for Selimut Hati onto this space where I can click replay a thousand times instead of letting your cell dry, honey. You can savor this few hours of freedom while I struggle to keep my eyes open at such an unsightly hour now. Run now, my Ipod Touch, run and be free. I believe tomorrow we'll meet again. With Selimut Hati on that overplayed "repeat" mode, of course.

Cheers,

Jolly Good Dream

One good thing that came out of my easy-come-easy-go-teary-state now is that I had a jolly good dream last night. I should probably put all this blogging on hiatus since final exams are looming even faster than I can say jeronimo. . . But this dream was so weird, and subconsciously presented everything I want/need/desire that I feel the need to document this as something significant in my life. Of course, now as I speak, half of my recollection of that dream has gone kaput. Why oh why can't beautiful dreams stay vivid in one's mind so that one can bring it up and smile to oneself and just let everyone else think one is crazy?

Let's see, so I know the dream involved my sister, my brother, Myra (5 year old apple of my eye), myself and my dad. Hmm, it seems like us three siblings and Myra took a flight to somewhere I didn't quite know initially. The plane went through a series of airpockets, and you could say it was one bloody rocky plane-ride that got me grunting and twitching in my sleep. The destination?? Just to the northside of Chicago, or more specifically, Skokie since in that dream we headed to Aunt Enson's (the Malaysian Student's Department's education attache) home! Yes, even in that dream I was laughing like a headless chicken since we could have just taken the CTA trains or driven. It was a bloody one hour trip away from my the southside, for pete's sake! Heh, but if it was realistic, the next part, which is the crunch, ladies and gentlemen, would never have come about.

From Aunt Enson's house, we magically transported ourselves into an airplane, and once again, made our way through the clouds. This ride saw to a crash landing; imagine how pissing scared I was, crying and ducking on my brother's lap. Selfish aunt, I don't even know if I remembered Yaya should have been first priority. Hehe. Anyways, well, it was a highly unlikely miracle that we landed safely despite the "crash" landing! I lost all sense looking at the clear white snow everywhere and anywhere at the place we landed. Walking for a few minutes brought us to, get this, the city of Kathmandu! Hold your horses, that's not the most bizarre part just yet. We stumbled upon some Shepa dude (heeeh, I'm making an assumption here, since they're the only kaum ethnic I know in Kathmandu from reading Geography back in the lower secondary years=P) and he took us to a huge treehouse.

Boy-oh-boy, it was my dad's house (because, well, in this dream, he was in that house). Is this friggin cool or what? There's an almost zero probability that one has a dad who owns an effing big treehouse in Nepal of all places! I forgot the details of the tree house (I keep smiling to myself as I type tree house now), but I do remember that we had to climb two flights of stairs before coming to a one-floor living space that had a living room, bedroom and cozy dining room. Macam that Disney movie Meet the Robinson's (or was it the Robinson's family or something) who made an awesome tree house at some jungle on an island they got stranded at. Surreal, and downright crazy now that I think about it. Underneath all that, I think what made me happy in that dream was just the amount of time we spent together, all five of us, in that dream of a house. Yaya, of course, was so happy since it was a treehouse. Which 5 year old doesn't get excited at the fct that she's LIVING on a trehouse?

All the blurry details in between, we moved to a different location, where my dad promised to build us another treehouse. So, we traveled to where it was (by foot, by car, by plane, beats me!), and this second house was Ya Allah even more amazing than before! It was located at this terraced hill, which looked like, you know, steps. The house was right in the middle, at the bottom. Imagine an amphitheatre, and the big ring in the middle was where the house was.

The three of us got so excited that we beat Myra at being so childish and jumpy and all that hullabaloo. But the most awesome feature of this house was that some big ass waterfall actually cascaded down to our doorsteps! It was like living at the foot of Niagara Falls or something. Yes, I'm not talking about those teeny tiny waterfalls at Ulu Yam or Kuala Pilah, this was the big mother-nature gift. Hahaha! We had so much fun running away from the crashing water, and it was amazing that my normal paranoid self did not get all tensed up about how it may destroy the house, how we might be drowned, etc.

My interpretation on all this muse? I definitely yearn for those times when I was smaller and my dad would take the three of us on a holiday, either to Cherating or Langkawi. The last time my dad took me on one was when I was nine. We went to the East Coast--Kuala Terengganu and Kota Bharu--and I probably had the best time of my life just having him all to myself. Things went downhill soon after and I never got another holiday with him. It would be weird too, to go on a family holiday now, since we're all adults, my brother, sister and I. My sister has her own family, and my dad also got remarried. Heh, it would never be the same again, I guess.

But yeah, I'm guessing Sigmund Freud was dead accurate when he posited that dreams are a manifestation of one's repressed desires. However, I assure you that my "repressed desires" have nothing to do with the incestual desire Freud believes every person innately have. Heh, apparently he thinks that every little boy goes through an Oedipus Complex whereby he becomes fixated at mommy's titties and yearns for mommy sexually. Meanwhile, the girl would harbor the same sentiments towards the father; sadly mistaken that daddy is her love of her life Hm. I don't buy any of that, astaga.

But again, I told you I have a deprived childhood, and it's all coming back to me now. . .

Wheee! Can I be young and six, and do cartwheels and play tag all day long, and get to spend more time with my father before I have to grow up and grow boobies and can drive on my own that I don't need him to take me places anymore? Hehe. Stay tuned.

Tears Are Words The Heart Cannot Express

I am one for crying. That being said, I cry at least once a month. That once, of course, due to the hormonal welling of estrogens. Notwithstanding, a single mistake, a dose of happiness and a pinch of sadness can make me cry. Yes, it isn't only sadness that I cry for. I cry truly as a celebration for all the emotions that color (or stain in some cases) this life. This is not counting the many times I would bawl as I watch movies or read books that touch my heart, end with that "feel-good" sensation, or was just plain disturbing. I'm not even talking about the times I feel tears coming to my eyes as I hear beautiful songs with words I can only dream be dedicated to me. Neither does it include the countless times I breakdown in angry tears or heated sobs.

Some feelings are hard to describe, whilst some are even unfathomable. Some feelings are so heavy that it puts the weight of the world in your shoulders. Some things are better left unsaid. Some problems leave you thinking every night before you go to bed. Some situations make you pray all night that you would dream only of happy things, the complete antithesis of the reality that's dawning. Some special friendships end so abruptly that you wonder if it was all but a dream.

Some moments get so lonely in a place far from home, a place so cold it makes your heart freeze, and a place you just don't have many friends, that you rely on every little bit of the past to make you feel happy. Some lovers leave you looking at albums and albums of your pictures together, every single time you work on an essay but just can't concentrate. Some phone calls don't go the way you expected. And of course, not all the courses you take in life end up the way you planned it to; attesting to the famous "Manusia merancang, Tuhan menentukan".

And for all these, oh yes, I cry. I cry until the tears drown my cheeks and booger fills the capacity of my nasal ways. I bawl 'till I culminate to that point I can just laugh through all those tears; be it happy or sad, angry or frustrated. Yes, crying makes me feel silly afterwards, but it just makes me see clearer through all that cloud. A woman (yes, I'm a woman now) just needs a good day for a good cry to fill whatever void or say whatever words the heart cannot express, of which I have many. So yes, I'll cry whenever I please, whenever I need, and wherever I want, thank you!
It doesn't hurt to be to cry at times!

Tagging Myself because I'm Pathetic

1.How old are you?
19, but I don't look a day over 15 *buat-buat tersipu-sipu*.

2. Are you single?
Let's just say Facebook had me in mind when they created the "It's complicated" status.

3. At what age do you think you’ll get married?
According to some cheesy Facebook (yet again) poll, I'd get married at the age of 24. I think that's rather too early. *calculates in mind* Think the life plan for me was 25-26. But God forbid, if I don't get married by 30, someone come meminang please!

4. Do you think you’ll be marrying the person you are with now??
*Pause* Pass!

5. If not, who do you want to marry?
As of now, I can only only hope for that person to:
a) be tak buruk, tak handsome sangat. Cannot handsome sangat because if I know people like me they'll be thinking "So mismatched. That guy good-looking, the wife muka terima kasih ajelah". And cannot lah be too buruk, I don't wanna be thinking about Nathaniel Archibald, Fahrain Ahmad or Zizan Nin everytime we pucker up. Haha.

b) be a good athlete, or at least plays a sport. Wah, hear me out first before you readily label me as superficial. This is really the best gift I can give to my kids. I'm trying to give them the "good in sports" genes, since if they were to come from me, alamat boleh main hockey and soccer/futsal so-so tapi tak terror-terror. Or boleh lari long-distance tapi tak jaguh. Hehe. Apparently, I've been on track with this so far, since most of the people I've dated/is dating/was gossiped with are *cough*extremely*cough* good at football.

c) bear arms yang ada urat terkeluar-keluar. I don't mean he needs to have really toned, muscular hands, just that those veins need to be popping out. I can't explain my fetish for this one, but I guess there's just something manly about a guy with hands that look like they've been worked, with time and labor both.

d) (pertaining to the hands again) have jari yang runcing. Yes, this is by far the most bizarre criteria I have (but keep on reading, I may surprise you even more). Stare at my fingers and you'll see why. Nice, long fingers are another thing I pray my husband can give my kids (of course it's ketentuan Tuhan, hehe, but you know, there's no harm in exercising natural gene selection).

e) start from rock bottom and shoot skyhigh. I mean it in terms of career, money, you know, the works. I like a man who has the drive to succeed, and not just going places because his dad is Datuk this or his mom knows Menteri ni. 'Course, if you're Mr. Ka Ching and you're madly in love with me and you don't fall in the second-sentence category, this goes out the window=P

f) be someone who can do housework with me, alongside me. No lazy man in the house for me. Make sure your CV includes cooking experience, because that's one hurdle we'd have to jump through TOGETHER.

g) someone who'd walk hand in hand with me until we grow old and sixty together; someone who won't run out of things to tell me after 40 years of living together; someone who'd still look at me like I'm the only person in the room eventhough I've lost all my teeth and gone all grey and loony.

6. Do you want a garden/beach wedding, or the traditional wedding?
Malay weddings are essentially traditional and semi-outdoors if held at home. Hotel for close relatives and friends, home for the whole world! Jemput-jemput!

7. Your ideal motif?
Fresh flowers are in, so that's a yes. Hm, this is too much for me to handle. Susah tau nak think of all those criteria I want in a man tadi.

8. Where do you plan to go on a honeymoon?
A pristine island or beach anywhere but in Malaysia. Maybe somewhere in the Carribeans? Bikini for the man! And I don't want that to happen in Malaysia where there'll be people ogling and pointing at me boobies and whatnot. Heh heh.

9. How many guests do you think you’ll invite?
Anyone who's made a significant impact in my life, sila angkat tangan. You'd be invited to the grand one. Yang kenal-kenalan can ajak for the wedding at the house or whatever.

10. Do you want an extravagant wedding or a simple wedding?
Depends on who I marry, doesn't it?

11. Do you want the traditional vows or something you’d make up on your own?
What?? We're Malays and Muslims dude. We do it the Akad nikah way. We've got the guy muttering his vow in one breath, then all the paperwork, then all the "batal air sembahyang" thing.

12. How many layers of cake do you want to have?
Does it even matter when the real cake would only be 2 layers the most, in most cases? So, I'd choose to make it a loooong bigggg one. Maybe in the shape of something special to the both of us.

13. Do you prefer having your reception at a hotel or at a simple place?
The grand one at a hotel or hotel-like place. Hm, but lauk will be kampung style like daging salai masak lemak, ayam goreng and sambal belacan! Whoppee. I'm going to defy tradition and melantak on my wedding reception!

14. When do you want to get married, evening or morning?
Nikah in the morning, reception at that night or the next night because night weddings are oh-so-glamorous.

15. You’d rather have your reception outdoors or indoors?
Dejavu. Hm, I keep giving answers ahead of the questions. Haiya. So, yes, it'll be both.

16. Do you like a grand entrance for your groom?
Hell yeah! With the kompangs and our favorite song and all that jazz!

18. Name the song/tune you’d like played at your wedding??
Heh, a girl is never too young to start collecting her wedding playlist. But now that the time has come to tell the world what my songs are gonna be, I forget. Hmph. But Sempurna by Andra and the Backbone, Love by Matt White, The Way I Am by Ingrid Michaelson are definitely on that list I have somewhere up in my head.

19. Are you a morning person or a night person?
Hm, a night-person, I guess. Because the darkness would deceive everyone and take their mind off my height?

20. Do you want a solemn ceremony or a light one?
I want loud, boisterous, meriah, boleh?

21. What age do you want to get married?
26-27. Tak bijak this questionairre. Bright and keypohci people like me will surely jawab way earlier.

22. Describe your ideal husband/wife.
Scroll up to number 5).

23. Do you prefer fine dining or just the normal spoon & fork/knife?
Spoon, fork and knife all the way y'all. And hands are welcomed too!

24. Champagne or red wine?
*Gasp* That'd be the end of a Malay wedding if people start infusing this into the wedding tradition.

25. Honeymoon right after the wedding or days after the wedding?
Right after. Why subject yourself to waiting when you know you wanna make love like bunnies now that you can? Haha.

26. Money or household item?
Money. Definitely. And I'll buy those household items 'cause I just don't trust your taste!

27. Who will pay for the bills?
Utilities? Hubby d-uh. Credit card too, please please *batters eyelashes and buat comel*?

28. Are you ready for married life?
Erk. *Looks left to right* Are you talking to me?

29. Will u always be true to your wife/husband?
Well, what he doesn't know won't hurt him. Hm, but then again, what I don't know won't hurt me either.... Tricky tricky.

30. How many kids would u like?
Tres! And can I have the two be twins? I have banyak twin genes in my blood tau--grandma from both sides and grandpa on mother's side--and you know what they say about this kind of thing skipping a generation.

31. A new house for a newly wed or an old one?
I think I deserve a new house after all the turmoil I've gone through. Hehe, bloody selfish.

32. Will u celebrate silver wedding, gold wedding, or diamond wedding?
*Squints one eye and garu-garu kepala* I'm assuming this is relating to anniversaries? On top of the occasional no-occasion gifts I'll be expecting from hubby, I of course expect all these anniversaries and would gladly embrace the rings/jewelries that come with it.

33. What kind of cuisine would u like for ur wedding?
Urgh. I don't wanna repeat myself. Read somewhere above.

34. Will u record ur honeymoon in a cd or dvd?
Tehee. Now that's a thought. My kids squealing and running to me after having found 'mama's and papa's *tidak boleh* (I mean, manja-manja lah) CD/DVD'? No thank you!

Divert. Divert.

Ahem. So, I'm actually really shyshy about telling people I love them. Especially to family members. Given my circumstances, I've never actually uttered the full, magic three words to anyone of my kin. Only an occasional "love you" to my sister or dad, and never to my brother and mom (just turns out that way, don't ask me why), I always end my terribly long emails with a "Miss you all", "Love you all" or "Send my love to everyone at home". And for those who know how I totally adore my grandmother: yes, even to my grandmother yang comel pun the closest I'll get to expressing how much I love her is just "Rindunyeee kat Wan".

Something is terribly wrong with me--so ego/emotionally-staid when it comes to family.
But with boyfriends, handal lah pulak ber "i love you-i love you" in cards, text messages and whatnot. And for this reason lah, I want my boyfriend to come back to me, or I want a new boyfriend. Haha, so I can actually call someone up to say "I love you". I've let my guard down with friends, and can now successfully say "Love you" to close companions like Puan Rohani, Ems, Ainul, and etc. But it's still tough going through life not being able to say I love you to people who matter most. This must be a result of the emotional trauma/deprived childhood I believe I've had to live with. Hmm. But again, that should be a great subject for another entry on another day.

Hm, anyways, let's just say that I'd rather die first than let my sister read that previous post I read for/about her. Hehe. So, as a diversion to that, do read on and you'll find my "personal statement". I dug it up from my university applications last two years. I can't believe I tried to summarize my life in two pages! Two freaking pages certainly does not do justice in trying to explain my roller-coaster of a life. I was pretty much ROFL soon as I finished reading this one (read the bit I goreng-ed about Econ). Yeah, so, it's just something I felt like sharing since I'm swamped with work (due to Finals week) but still stubbornly want to update this blog, and of course, to divert everyone's attention from my prior oh-so-sappy post=)

"My childhood was everything but normal. My parents had long been separated and I’ve lived with my grandmother as long as I can remember. I supposedly shared a cozy home with my grandparents, mother, brother, sister, house-helper, and uncle, but I never saw much of my sister who already went to boarding school when I was a toddler and who then embarked to the US in my primary years. My brother back then was a teenage rebel who rejoiced in playing truant and slacking in school.

Sadly too, my mother in her phase of depression was never much in the picture of my growing up. She came about much later in my life, but I don’t blame her for that. Paradoxical as it may seem, it was my father, whom I did not stay with, who played a role in taking me to school, providing me allowance and looking after my welfare. As much care as he could give, I lusted for a full-time father-figure in my life, one who could swing me in his arms, and answer my 1001 curious questions about life.

Fortunately, I had ‘Pok Chu’, my live-in uncle, to fill that role. I spent a substantial amount of time with him; I went for dinners with him and Grandpa, played in his room, and ultimately pestered him with my childish hunger for answers. He satiated my curiosity on the Bermuda Triangle, buildings, history, geography, and many more. I especially loved the way he treated me like an equal, and always understood what I meant. I credit him for instilling in me the love of knowledge and the courage to always ask.

On top of that, life was always interesting in the ‘full house’ that I grew up in. My three aunts were an everyday fixture there, and everyday was chaos with all the heads in the house. Life wasn’t and still isn’t smooth-sailing, though. Bickering, quarrels and animosity surround my household. Through all the fights between my mom and her siblings or my sister, plus my brother with his foul-temper and spoiled ways, I’ve seen the bitter side of life. I marvel at how my dysfunctional family still holds on to the ties that bind, evinced through the crowd still gathered at Grandma’s home until today.

Things were complicated for me, but altogether they create a jigsaw puzzle that makes sense and carry a purpose. My circumstances carry the purpose of teaching me a thing or two. For one, I learnt to be a strong and independent person, for I believed then, that I had nobody to turn to. I also learnt to pick up after myself, and to be self-sufficient for life has taught me in a convoluted way that we can’t completely depend on others. Another good thing that has come out of my idiosyncratic childhood is that I was comfortable with adults as I was always surrounded by them. It made me mature in my thinking and self-conduct. I remember I was always the girl whom my friends’ mothers would praise for her clever words and manners.

Despite the turmoil in my personal life, I am proud to say that I turned out to be a mild-mannered girl, with a clean report card in her primary years. Come high school, I escaped the comfort and ‘discomfort’ of home as I fled to a private boarding school called Saad Foundation College (SFC). SFC relieved me from the woes of my semi-vacant childhood, by offering me plenty of room and chances to grow. This was a place where a whole new chapter began, and which further mould me into what I am today. I may have earned my ‘A’s in primary school, but I was a downright plain girl with modest achievements. SFC unveiled my true potentials.

I became actively involved in music, sports, student bodies and clubs. From no musical background, I learnt to be good at violin, and became a violinist in the school orchestra. Through the orchestra activities, I kicked my habit of being too self-sufficient and started to believe in the help of others and teamwork. I found my voice and passion in helping juniors and peers as I was elected as leader in my house and clubs. Through all the dramas and competitions I participated in, I learnt to contribute my energy and give selflessly, and felt the wonderful feeling of being a person people can depend on. I even surprised myself by learning hockey and being chosen for the school team, for I have never thought of myself as a very athletic person. Of course, I continued to learn diligently in the sincere quest for knowledge (as my uncle taught me), and worked my way to the top of my class with an almost flawless report card throughout my five years there.

I began to consider Economics, my chosen major, at SFC too. One day in a Biology lecture on respiration and exchange of gasses, my teacher exclaimed “Everything boils down to the Law of Supply and Demand”. I was taken aback. It was exactly what my brother, who is still a major pain but is now working in the banking sector, had once said. He had been feeding me with economic, poverty and scarcity issues in Malaysia. And I was hooked. I was enraptured by the fact that economics encompassed social issues, humanities, real life, and can even be related to Biology! I am deeply moved at the sight of a dirty beggar and shops with zero customers, and have always wanted to do something about it. I knew then that Economics is what I will pursue, and I got my ticket after securing a scholarship from the Central Bank of Malaysia.

Looking back, I realize that SFC turned my life around, and even if my childhood was a setback, I still managed to emerge triumphant out of it. I know that the US holds bigger shocks, surprises, chances and holdups, but I can guarantee you that I will sail smoothly, for I’ve experienced them all before."

Why I Shop For Marisa Ahmat

1. Because she's the only one who can understand the love-hate relationship I have with my mother.
2. Because she sees my family's mistakes and, like me, doesn't want that to happen to us.
3. Because I can complain about my complicated family without having to pause and think about how she must be judging me that instant.
4. Because she taught me almost everything I need to know about this crazy life.
5. Because she just understands, no kidding.
6. Because her ideologies have become mine.
7. Because when I was a kid, she'd buy me stuff, belanja me eat and take me around.
8. Because she's my best shopping companion.
9. Because what's in her closet is mine. Hoho, and that means an endless supply of beautiful Mini-Kurungs and fancy kebaya-s for events, cool handbags to show off in front of friends, and different accessories to don every time. Sadly my feet are a size bigger.
   
10. Because she's going to be my wedding planner. She just has to.
11. Because if I die before she does, I know she's one person who won't lie about missing and remembering me forever.
12. Because she boosts my self-esteem by telling me I'm the smartest kid in my family.
13. Because she gave me two cute kids to love and who love me back.
14. Because she'd always send me parcels (I love receiving something in the mail).
15. Because she never misses my birthday.
16. Because she writes me long emails and comments on my Facebook pictures without fail.
17. Because she gives me sound advice, that somehow, just somehow, sounds better coming from her.
18. Because of the one million times just hearing from her lifts me up.
19. Because we're family.
20. Because she's my kaklong, and I'm her adik, and she's got no choice but to stick with me for life.
21. Because of instances like this:

"Yuhuu!!

Sorry for the late late reply!! I've been swamped at work and by the time I get back home, tgk PC pun dah tak selera.. apatah lagi nak turn it ON and go online.. at work I only have time to quickly update my status before my psycho of a boss sneak up on me.. tiba tiba je ada kat belakang I.. hehe freak!!

anyways, here's my 2 cents on the whole Shahrul thingy.. albeit a lil bit late:

1) On Long Distance Relationship

Well what can I say, it sucks.. BIG TIME!! I mean, it's hard enough having a normal relationship, let alone a long distance one.. like I said before, it takes a lot to make a long distance relationship work.. Lots of patience, understanding, effort, strength and etc...

Most importantly, it takes both sides to make it work.. To be fair, he might be dealing with some stuffs with his studies and what not, but he must be pulling his weight into the relationship too.. I mean like, you can't be making all the phone calls, the emails, initiating the YMs semua kan.. at least he must make some effort too.. at least some emails bertanyakan khabar.. and the short phone calls just to hear your voice and etc..

I mean, I know first hand about what it's like to be with someone yg pendiam, so of course we shouldn't expect that person to be a chatterbox like us kan.. but in my case, what made it work was that somehow I knew he missed me as much as I missed him and that even if it was only once a week that we get to talk to each other, it was enough for me.. so you know, he might not have much to tell you about his mundane life as a med student, as compared to you.. dahle he's there at the bleakest place on earth, so maybe you might wanna let it go abt him not having much to talk about... heheh

So from here you might wanna evaluate your relationship and see if he's making as much effort into this as you are.. if it seems like he's not, then maybe it could be for a million different reasons, and at the end of the day, only you can decide whether its worth keeping or not...

2) On Drifting / Growing Apart

I guess the distance can be a factor.. Plus the fact that he's busy with his studies and etc.. And also, people change... I don't know what his problem is not replying to your calls/ emails/ yms like that, but it's not nice lah... i know I would be pissed off..

and if he's saying like you've changed and you're getting sexier pun, it's prolly cause he's changed a bit too.. maybe he's the one who decided he can't take all that sexiness? or maybe he's just feeling insecure cause you're growing up to be a swan and he's so far away from you that he can't protect you or claim you as his girl ... u knowlah, all that shit.. tak paham la me sometimes.. one of the things i like abt abg man (despite all his flaws that just gets to me) is the fact that he doesn't try to change me.. tak kisah la, pakai shorts ke, sleeveless ke, apa ke.. tatau la whether he's just indifferent aka tak cakna, or he's totally OK with it..

hmm, guess you would need to have a long talk with him on the matter.. try to reassure him that it's still you underneath all the cool clothes you're wearing... hehehe or maybe, just maybe, you started to grow more boobs and having curves, that's why he thinks you are getting sexier? hahahah

3) So What To Do?

i wish I had the answer to that.. unlike other people, I'm not gonna say: break up with him? (although i know Mama will prolly be soo happy about it and say "dah agak dah" you'd breakup with him).. but i think if things doesn't change after you guys have tried to iron things out, then maybe it's best if you just let it be..

i guess what i'm saying is, instead of breaking up with him (you don't want to look back 6 years from now and regret about breaking up with this dr yang berjaya, or maybe even think that he was the one that got away...).. i guess you could be selfish, and let it die a natural death.. meanwhile, you can explore your options with other guys or whatever la..

of course, you're too young to get married and tied down.. but you're not too young to have a steady relationship if it's good for you.. and besides, how old is too young to have a steady boyfriend? and how old is too old to be even still dating and unmarried? you know what i mean? some people just start early, and some people are late bloomers.. but it's better than not having started at all...

i mean, if by you having a steady relationship is obviously affecting your life in a bad way ( bad grades, etc etc) of course i would be against it myself.. but hey, if papa can be open abt his kids dating, so why can't everyone else do the same? hehehe

if anything, our mom and aunts not a good example to go by lah.. ingat tak haritu when you tanya i pasal resipi and etc? and when tam got on the phone dia mcm sort of implied that why bother learning how to cook? nanti dah jadi career woman and get paid high enough, u can get someone to do the cooking... boleh? even mama pun masa u tanya tanya wan resipi b4 u balik sana dulu, she said like takyah masak selalu sangat and etc..

scary la these folks.. which i think is one of their biggest misconception.. i think no matter how successful a woman is, she should be good in the kitchen too, so that she can provide for her kids and husband.. i mean, no matter you CEO ke, apa ke, you still have to hormat your hubby and what not kan? i think you know what i mean... and i hope you've seen enuff to know well enough that we should never become like them.. uhuhu...

so there.. i dunno if it helps, but i guess you'll just have to play it by ear... if it all points that there is nothing left for you in the relationship, then by all means, you shd end it... if you've found someone else who's better, then walk away... but if he's come to his senses and wants you back and if you are willing to give it another shot, then do.. it's really up to you and like you mentioned, don't let anybody influence u...

hahah if they say women are hard to understand, then men are just as bad... huhuhu...

okla, too long already... do take care sis!! love you and once again, thanks for the handbag yg i bakal dapat... heheh muahs!!"

For all of the above, she deserves any amount of Coach hobos, Corelle livingware, Marc Jacobs watches, Victoria's Secret body mists that she fancies, don't you reckon?