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What do you do when you finally get to meet someone you've always wanted to meet?

This person is the present day Batman, who so mysteriously appears and disappears from your life, and of those times, mostly during the night. You may want to personify him like the Chipsmore, "sekejap ada, sekejap takde". But when the other is there, you share stories--some intimate, some serious, others silly, and most, random.

And so, you've counted months and weeks to match this persona you think you know, and the voice and laugh you definitely recognize to a person you've never physically met. Again, what do you do when this reverie decides to come true?

Do you conjure up a list of 1001 topics to talk about? Do you talk like you know each other or do you just act cordial and slightly formal? Do you lean on old jokes you've cracked, or do you rely on new ones you've just learned? Do you ask the person if "he saves the best for the last, or eat everything all at once" like you've always wanted to ask?

I chose to fire him a raging spitball instead. Which, by the way, landed peacefully on his left forearm.

"So, how is MY summer so far"?

I raise the white flag. Nobody can be as geeky, and un-cool as me, raging spitball and all. And all summer long I'll keep that in mind.

Ops Pancit Sifar dan Perut Kempis

Memorial Day Weekend is looming near, and the Malaysian diaspora in the United States have but one common thing in mind: Midwest Games 2009. To Urbana Champaign, Illinois, from May 22nd to 24th, we come.

We come from as near as Chicago and as far as Toronto, to convene, play sports, chit chat and participate in the all-time favorite: boy/girl watching. For newly single, not-quite-single and taken people alike, Midwest Games provides the platform for one to sharpen their observational and networking skills.

Of course, for the more hardcore sports enthusiast, sporting events are focal. They are never mere friendly matches or fun tournaments. Rather, MWG is a once-a-year opportunity to put forth one's awesomeness and dexterity in the court. It is time to mesmerize idolizing fans with your toned biceps and graceful moves while brushing that wet hair out of your eyes as you get ready to kick/throw/spike/catch the ball, whatever the game.

For the females, it is time to establish the truth: that you are not as cewi as people deem you to be. This is your chance to scream insults at your opponents, sweat, toil, stink but still emerge as heroines as you bring your university to the winning ranks. Of course, during the Malaysian Night you then redeem your status as a demure goddess as you strut into the halls, dressed to the nines in the baju kebaya you forced your sister to mail from home.

As for me, MWG heightens my despair over my prolonged sedentary condition. It is the time of the year when my brain and heart colludes with agreement that "Shit, I shouldn't have NOT exercised for a whole year". It is times like these I panic and formulate crash jogging and soccer training, and don't follow it. This month of May, may I say, is when I wished I kicked and played more with balls.

Playing with a team made up of young aunties and a handful of imported players from all over the country, it is an understatement to say that we don't get enough practice. It's just really kick and play for us, as we touchdown at the field from our separate lives, meeting for the very first time in no time.

Last year ChiTown Warriors (I cringe at this chosen title) went against all odds and emerged as champions, thanks to Kak Maria, mother to three year old Adam, who defines fantastico soccer mom. This superwoman is staying off the field this year as she has a junior coming, and we wish her all the best! But now, nak harapkan Nurjannah, silap lah.

A moral dilemma is at hand.

How do I go from this

to this?

I think it's time to launch Ops Pancit Sifar dan Perut Kempis. Nothing more, nothing less.

Surat Maklum Balas to SL*

Hey you!

I tak tau nak cakap how disappointed I am when you said no to me semalam, tau. But I guess I could feel it in my bones that we weren't a good match. But I gave my all when we borak-borak the other day, and I truly did show you my true colors sebab you cakap you nak get to know me, kan? But lepas I left the room, my heart wasn't racing and my stomach wasn't doing somersaults like it usually does after I tau I aced something. It didn't get that "I hit jackpot" feeling. Not like the time I talked to Darby baby or Banky the hunk, tau. Memang the feeling was different.

Yelah, mana taknya, I rasa macam I bimbo mana duduk dalam bilik tu, surrounded by you and four other friends. "Acquaintances" you cakap, padahal semua judging me, taking notes of my every gesture. Banyak benda kalau boleh I nak cakap kat you haritu. Tapi biasalah, to err is human. Apa I cakap haritu half of what I really felt and wanted tell you. Pendek kata, shit happens all the time, kan?

Frankly, I tak bengang. I faham you had to choose the right person. And I definitely didn't do myself any justice masa kita bersua tempoh hari. Kita tak ada jodoh, what to do, kan? I taknak lah "hidung tak mancung, pipi tersorong-sorong". I shall practice losing with grace, ni.

Actually, nak cakap sikit, you listen, okay? Terharu pun ada you pandang I yang tak seberapa lawa, tak seberapa pandai or tak seberapa impressive ni. Dalam banyak-banyak calon you, you gave me the chance to get know you better, and I can't help but say memang my goal in life is to cari someone like you lah. For now, you're my short term goal, and also long-term, say 20 tahun lagi, memang I see myself alongside someone like you.

Right now, since you dah remukkan impian Sonata musim Panas I dengan you di bumi Amerika Utara ni, hati I nekad untuk cari a pengganti in the place I call home. Home is always where the heart is. And bila I ponder about this again, lagilah I rasa terpanggil nak cuba plan-plan menarik kita di Malaysia. I masih muda, banyak lagi keringat yang boleh I taburkan dekat tanah air I. Mungkin betul orang kata, everything happens for a reason, kan? Maybe banyak benda tunggu I? Maybe this is the best way for both of us?

I can't approach you again, bukan sebab malu, tapi sebab next year I ada plan lain up my sleeves lah. But I doakan that I find somebody like you cuti ni. Kalau tidak, I akan cari orang yang mediocre je, someone I like so-so tapi tak lust for (macam I lust for you), and usha lagi orang-orang macam you.

Always,
NJ

N.B.
SL: Summer Links 2009

The Forgotten -lah

Lah. It's an integral component of my life as a Malaysian. It is my identity as a Malaysian. I say it, I hear it, I overhear it, I write it. To make a long story short, my language and experiences are rich with lah, lah.

Okaylah. Shit lah. Tahilah. Fucklah. "Rajinlah you". "Cutelah you". Adoilah. Sweetlah. Cannot stand it lah. "Whatlah you!". "Why lah?". Alah. Besoklah. Tak mau lah. Busuklah. Bodohlah. Good lah. Baiklah. Takutlah. Love you lah. "Can lah?". Pak Lah. Masalah.

These are uttered effortlessly, every passing day. By the by, you know what I forget?

Alhamdulillah.

Sometimes I need reminders like this.

p/s: With a very sheepish face (imagine shyness to the power of 10), I formally welcome the Ahmats to this blog. Sister tells me she found this through an interested friend who googled her name, and showed her. Brother insists that the senior googled himself and asked "You dah baca blog adik?". Adoilah. Malu lah like this. Please read sparingly. Segan-segan datang sebulan sekali only, okay? Haha. Muahs!

Fishcake & Curry, I am Nobody!

Not too long ago, I used to believe that maybe, just maybe, I got to where I am now because I did have an extra something; that X-factor nobody actually knows what they're referring to. I was inflated with the prospect that I could go far in life with the talents I thought I possessed. I felt that writing comes naturally, command in English was a breeze, and communicating with people - not a big deal. So, I thought I was set for life. If you look at me or read these words and feel that I am somewhat special, I must thank you profusely, but I beg to differ.

I am nobody, and I am going absolutely nowhere.

I am very conscious of the fact that I may not be the most intelligent student who was scouted for the Olympiads, nor was I the girl with an unbeatable rapport of being number one. I wasn't your passionate debater who could yap on and on, learnedly, regarding any subject matter. More still, I am most certainly not a girl who thrives at all things Mathematics, and God knows how I try, but never will.

I may not be all those, but I was confident that I was a bright girl. To me, being bright means being able to comprehend/pick up things easily, able to converse like I know shit, able to sense, feel and prioritize. It is one thing to be studious and smart, but it is another to be outgoing and quick. It is not with pure conceit that I say so, just out of desperation to believe that I am good at something.

Some of you may be familiar with my obsession for stalking while some of you don't. Let it be known here that stalking can lead you to a myriad of places; connecting you with brighter, smarter, more talented pool of people that you knew existed, but were never exposed to. This mere activity of clicking, reading, more scrolling and anticipating lends you insight to how inept, stagnant and ordinary you are. At least, that's what it did to me.

With the power of stalking bestowed upon me, I am led to the stark reality that I am nothing! I see peers who write creative stories, strangers who pen long, flawless posts in a command so natural and effortless, and I am left feeling envious. This is not even talking about the friends who write about global issues and current affairs. Reading those genuine, well-articulated ideas make me feel under-accomplished and completely throws me off the track from aspiring to become a writer/columnist one day. I hungrily feed on inspiring quotes and entertaining stories by Malaysian peers whose blogs get heavy traffic and in the end I just feel hopeless.

Yes, I dream to write one day, but seeing what I see now truly leaves me with self-doubt if I would ever make it. A very special person has gotten his words published in the newspaper at the age of 19 for gods sake, and I am not even contributing to the campus publication. Some of you will surely argue that my writing is pretty good, but how do I explain this thirst for being more than I am? How do I make you see that this totally demolishes any harbored thoughts that I had something special? Clearly there are millions of more talented individuals out there, and I am very much outnumbered and conquered.

It's on rough days like yesterday, that this again occupies my mind. I have been suppressing these insecurities for a while now, but I think my state now calls for some personal bashing. I see more clearly now, all the signals I should have seen. A friend keeps mentioning how intelligent and smart my other friend is, but has he ever said the same about me? No. I have never written anything worthy of mention by anyone or worthy of resonance to anyone; and that's good indication to myself that I am lacking.

Yes, I know I know, I have made it through school with good grades and all that shmatzy, and yes, Alhamdulillah, I am studying abroad here in the United States, but do you see? Do I really have something more to make it even further in life? Will I ever have something more to bring to the table?

Fishcake and curry, let me wallow in self-pity; because right now I feel like I'm nobody.

The Malady of Discontent (in rojak)

Hey you reading this entry, paham tak maksud penat? Penaaaat sangat. Like penat yang banyak kerja tapi malas nak buat because balik dorm dah malam sangat. And sakit kaki. Oooh, complain-complain sakit badan bunyi macam orang tua pulak. Padahal next 3 months baru nak masuk 2 decades hidup dalam dunia ni. Ehem, yes, that's a hidden hint if you read between the lines, memang sebenarnya nak promote my birthday. I used to do it out in the open, ingat-ingatkan papa lah, my brothers and sisters, and melalak kat dorm. But it's high time I curtailed my childish manners and start acting my age, huh?

Hm, but apakan daya, perlu jugak iklan my birthday since I can already predict the nothingness that will happen on that day. Complete hambarness. Itu adalah kerana minggu birthday saya minggu final exam ye, rakan-rakan. Aaaah, benci quarter system. Tahiness. Hm, last year at least ada jugak the Malaysians, plus my other Asian friends datang pull a good drunken prank on me, but this year, masakan berlaku 'cuz Jay Sern has moved to Regents. Eyh, tapi itu adversity tiga bulan akan datang. Let's talk about my malady hari ini, shall we?

This morning woke up with a severe stomachache yang stok guling-guling atas katil and curl up bawah selimut pon cannot take it away. Aha! What else can it be if not that time of the month? "Dah agak dah!" *read aloud in haughty manner, please* Dahla, you know, when you're not prepared for it, adalah extra steps yang perlu dilakukan. But basically, totally unnecessary kepenatan pada pagi ini.

Hm, physically tired boleh handle, but bila the mentally tired part comes in, cannot handle! So, to cut a long story short, let's just say I got into an Econ section that I'm not really happy about, and thus had to do some class shopping. (Class shopping, for those who have never heard of it, is when you sit in for a few different classes and decide which ones you like best and consequently try your utmost best to add/drop classes before Friday of the first week). Basically, I sat through 3 Econ lectures. The instructors were 3 different men of different ages and different dressings with yet very different approaches to teaching = pening kepala!

I have heard the term "technology" a gazillion times today, and "isoquants" and production costs, production functions but they still remain in a region so mysterious, and dark. Bukannya I'm complaining about the extra contact time (yes, that's good, I admit), but maksaalahnya (that's how my niece, Yaya says masalahnya), lecture diorang tak coherent langsung. And to stay or not to stay in my Econ section still remains a question. But there is one perk about staying in thy section: the instructor, Sebastien Gay sangat DILF ya. Ooops, sorry, if ada kanak-kanak bawah umur.

Of course, the 'Wreck-Nj's-Day Award' hands down goes to the MSA (Muslim Student's Association) meeting. It was a very long, very disorganized, very heated 3-hour meeting. But by far, this has got to be the most entertaining meeting we've ever had so far. Imaginelah, banyak drama siot diorang ni. The vice president resigned from his post, apparently he had a fallout with Mr. President badan lawa (yes, badan die sangat menggiurkan, punggung dia juga sangat comel).

Based on hearsay, they've been avoiding each other since end of last quarter; kereta park jauh-jauh, and VP jarang duduk bilik. Tadi pon, when the Mr. P announced VP's resignation, the former also snidely commented that "if VP wants to email us the reason or some sort of explanation, he would be most welcomed to". Drama tak drama? Boleh tahan diorang ni. Thought it was just Malays and their phDs or girls and their competitive spirits.

Hm, since this seems to be my wailing wall for now, let me just throw it in here skalik: I JUST WANNA SHOOT MYSELF or shove myself up some animal's ass sebab sebenarnya berbulu je nak buat ini nak buat itu banyak, tapi still very ignorant/uninformed about many, many things. I sympathize our fellow Muslims in Palestine, but do I really know what's truly going on? Jawapannya mestilah tidak. Siapa Norman Finkelstein? Siapa John Mearsheimer? Ali Abunimah? No idea. But Sami Al-Arian saya tahu.

Tapi tak cukup. How can I say my ultimate goal in life is to do community service when I know so little? Does it come with time and experience? Entahla buu (dalam hati harap ya). Tulah Nj, kutuk lagi Mat salleh ni "tak pandai sangatlah . . . Asians lagi pandai lah," tapi, the enlightened ones are very the enlightened. So, Nurjannah Iman Syaqirene Ahmat, sila habiskanlah membaca The Economist yang berlambak and mengumpul debu atas your bookshelf.

(Luahan hati kategori lain) Somehow, I can sense something building up inside of me. This is truly something I'd rather keep to myself, but I'll just beat around the bush, since I'm lonely here in Chicago, and who can I tell but that ugly reflection in the mirror (nanti orang ingat gila pulak senyum lebar kat diri sendiri) or squirrels (that even by now has retired to their holes and homes) roaming on campus? Tapi cukuplah that you know some days I burst with happiness, squeal with delight, and clap my hands macam orang terencat, while some days I carry on still, with the biggest fear of my life .