Paradise Comes in Little Blessings...

I'll Sue EgyptAir if They Sell Off My Ticket Again.

2011-11-21T01:07:00.000-08:00

They're at it again.

The wall graffitis, the agenda filled pamphlets, the riot police.

Damn it.

As much as I enjoyed the month long holiday that was graciously handed to us by the university spurred by the upheaval last year, I just really, supercalifragilisticexpealidociously want to graduate. And another violent revolution at hand is not gonna push that boat in the right direction.

Just yesterday, we were walking (more like being in a cab) down the Sharie' Gehan (or Gehan Street, didn't think I'd pick up some, albeit minimal, Arabic did you?) and there they were, in all its maximum security glory, three dark blue armoured cars with what looks like a sizeable makeshift prison cells at the back.

And the little dreamer in me was hoping a hand would slip out from the cracks, longing for sympathetic human touch, and I'd run to the car slowly with John Lennon's Imagine playing in the background, arms outreached only for the car to drive off away into the dark of the night. And music would fade to the last part of Knockin On Heaven's Door.

End scene.

Following the debacle that was last year's evacuation process (and my brief 15 minutes of fame where my post 10 hour flight face as well as my grossly exaggerated quote was printed in the news for all of titillated Malaysia to see), this revolution is apparently a move to give the Egyptian government the heave-ho to set an exact date for the presidential elections or in a more official news-y way

The military has floated a timetable that places the transfer of power late in 2012 or early 2013, but the protesters want it to announce a precise date. A growing number, however, wants the military to immediately step down in favor of an interim civilian council

Now my opinion on the matter. Hmmm.

Also reported by msnbc.com that 22 people have been killed, although these numbers could've been either embellished immensely or depreciated, whatever tickles the fancy of the Western media. And this is just to urge the government to set a date. What happens if they don't like the president? Or the results are rigged? Are more people going to lose their lives from protesting? Or are they going to give up, weary of the same empty promises? Something has to change, but what? Is it the seedy attitude of higher ups or the complacent nature of the people? Or will this endless cycle is just gonna rear its ugly head again and again And of that, will the country be strong enough to build itself from the rubble the revolution has left the economy in?

And I would just want to clarify that this is merely an observer's opinion on said matter. I'm not a political commentator nor have I credentials of a certified Middle Eastern scholar. I'm just another wide eyed student who has seen her fellow peers fight for their rights tirelessly, only to be despondent with the outcome. I want to proudly declare that I was there when Egypt achieved freedom. But I'm afraid whatever utopia dreams that Egyptians may have is just gonna be just that, a dream.

I offer my prayers and hope that Egypt, a country that once basked in the glories of early human civilization with a future shrouded with uncertainties, will rise from the ashes and bring back the once thriving land of the Pharaohs and Pyramids into full throttle. InsyaAllah.

Hypothetically.

2011-03-14T08:12:00.002-07:00

Hypothetically

... What would you say to someone you're no longer friends with?

I'd say

"I don't know why or how it has dragged this long, but I'm no longer angry. And faults, it's not yours. Neither is it mine"

Hypothetically

... What would you say to a loved one who is no longer living?

I'd say

"I hope life has been as fulfilling for you as it has for me knowing you. And what is afterlife like?"

Hypothetically

... What would you say to the families of the victims of disaster?

I'd say

"You might not see it now, or tomorrow, in another 20 years, but somehow, there is a silver lining, and God willing, you will find it"

Hypothetically,

... What would you say to a friend who is miles away, connected only by mere texts and calls?

I'd say

"Each time you make an effort in keeping this friendship afloat, I feel like the luckiest person alive. Truly, phenomenally lucky"

Hypothetically,

...What would you say to a person whom you adore but never mustered the courage to tell how you feel?

I'd say

"If that day comes, the day when you realize you had a good thing waiting for you, God I hope it won't be too late"

Hypothetically,

... What would you say to a person whom you once cherished that has hurt you irreparably ?

I'd say

"I don't hate you. I'm not angry. I just want an explanation. Cause I'm tired of hurting alone, and being confused beyond reason. Please, just an explanation"

Hypothetically,

... What would you say to those you have hurt?

I'd say

"I'm sorry. I'm just so sorry. If I could match tear for tear, pain for pain, heartbreak for heartbreak, I would, in a heartbeat"

Hypothetically,

... What if half of these questions were not hypothetical?

Oh, we'll never know.

KL - Abu Dhabi - Cairo - Hellhole/Home :)

2011-03-06T14:05:00.000-08:00

Because I live a world apart from where I'm studying (cause I'm badass that way) , I've been blessed to have been able to travel long haul flights (nothing says adventure like risking getting deep vein thrombosis).

After a while, the thrill of taking off and landing have se

em to disappear, well aside from the occasional "IS THIS THE END?" moments when turbulence takes you by surprise. And your head starts flashing images from the one episode of Air Crash Investigation you watched because you were bored. No? Only me? Fine.

Now, at 2.30 am, while waiting for my 10 am flight to Cairo at Abu Dhabi airport, I'm absolutely drained from flying

Look at absolutely-drained-from-flying face

Now look at face wondering why is EVERYONE is speaking Tagalog.

And this places is infested with Asians. Not filled, not populated, but positively overrun by them. As far as the eye could see, there were Asians. A cashier at Burger King, Filipino. A perfume salesman at Givenchy, Sri Lankan. A clerk at a pharmacy, Indian. The Asian Invasion is here, and is here to stay (and apparently snatch away all the menial jobs from the locals)

... Hey, hey, it's not racist if you're on of them. Like how Chris Rock crack racist black jokes and no one would say anything but the moment some non black guy says a racial slur, it's choo-tink-choo-tough-foo'?

That's just the way of life.

I better get some sleep before I turn into a raging maniac on some stewardess who won't pour me another cup of tea. It can happen, it can happen.

Before I go, just a little shout out to the Etihad feminine ~~male~~ ~~female~~ dumb homo flight attendant who refused to help me put my bag in the overhead cabin even after the thing almost crushed my cranium in because you were too busy gossiping with your other homo friend...

Well, you suck! *runs and hide*

I can't think of any demeaning remarks right now. I need sleep.

Semester 5, Biochemistry Hell

2011-02-28T10:37:00.000-08:00

Okay.

Time for a little confession. Yes, despite the hefty prolonged time of not updating this blog, I haven't been filling my time with anything more productive than just lazing around, wallowing in self pity, more lazing around, travelling (Oh, Europe has not been kind of the wallet) and of course... lazing around.

I admit, most of the time I've been trying to keep myself busy, from my post you-know-what depression. I can't remember now how many hours I wasted joining inane activities, exploring every little crevice of Cairo, taking part in glorified social causes and last but not least, ample of hours on jamming, which performance got stopped half way through anyway.

And God knows, this semester is such a bitch.

I swear.

It's even worst than semester 4 head and neck curriculum, filled with a certain touchy-feely, borderline pervy doctor's lectures. Moreover, I was kicked out of HIS lecture in the beginning of the semester (cursed, no?). Maybe it was a sign. May-beh.

And I remember after the exam, telling Dr Salwa that the exam sucked cause it had TWO Histology in the essay exam. Dr. Salwa. Dr. Salwa Gawish. Also known as Professor of Histology of Mansoura University.

.... Yeah, it wasn't a good start to the exam either.

Anyway, results were released yesterday.

Of course there was a reason for my academic laden rant. And no, I didn't fail. So half of you can put down celebratory streamers and balloons. However results were so-so. Well, not so good.

Okay, they sucked.

The feeling is akin to plunging to the ground from unimaginable heights, and surviving. You are glad, to the highest heavens that you're alive, still breathing when suddenly, a searing pain pierces through your body. Then you realize that both your legs are broken, twisted to unnatural positions, bones probably piercing through the skin, and of course, it hurting like a bitch.

That's how it feels getting my results :)

Well, after a long lecture from Dr. Mum and hiding ze mentioned results from army-trained father (yes, I still fear being ass-whopped, even after 20 years of the no physical violence conduct) I should start doing better.

For one, I'm starting clinicals already. So a lot more work ahead. Patients interaction is rather vital, and well... I'm not the most likable person in the world. And all that self pitying I did, it was enough to fill a lifetime. And believe me, feeling sorry for oneself is exhausting.

To semester 6, I'm here to wrestle you to the ground and mount your head on my mantlepiece like a fallen stag as a sign of my victory over your coming challenges (I sound like such a dude). Imma see you soon, buddy.

And to semester 5

Hell is this way, thank you :)

Make Poverty History.

2010-10-17T11:37:00.000-07:00

First, let me point out the obvious.

Yes, I'm one very unlikely candidate to even suggest the notion of eradicating poverty. No, I'm not doing this for publicity, or in an attempt to paint this facade of righteousness or sincerity. I'm as materialistic, indignant and devious as the next person.

But the thought of a little emaciated child begging his helpless mother for measly crumbs of bread to feed his hunger, that just pulls of my heartstrings.

Poverty is a somber matter in Egypt that threatens the very economical well being of the country. Apart from the alarming percentage of the population who are living below the poverty line, people have grown ignorant, oblivious to the turmoil around them, all due to plight of poverty that has inflicted them. Truly, poverty is the worst form of violence. Children are made to work, their childhood robbed before their eyes, decrepit senior citizens still in between menial jobs, retirement only an unattainable dream, it's a common sight. Who will save them? Where will they find their solace?

There's this photo taken by a South African photographer, Kevin Smith. It epitomizes the severity of poverty, where hunger is no longer in question, but a forgotten memory replaced by the reality of possible death.

No one knows what happened to that little girl.

If you can help, go ahead. It may be spare change, a packet of your leftovers, anything will do. The blaze of the human spirit can never be extinguished, despite however small the flame may be burning right now. But if you're content to just bear witness to a catastrophe unfolding, at least be thankful for what you have. Too often we forget to count our blessings, so immersed in our selfishness, in what we want, in what we need.

My last parting words are excerpts from chain letters. Yes, not very professional but hey, I'm just here to help :)

If you have food in the refrigerator, clothes on your back, a roof overhead and a place to sleep,
You are richer than 75% of this world.

If you have money in the bank, in your wallet, and spare change in a dish some place.

You are among the top 8% of the world's wealthy.
If you woke up this morning with more health than illness.

You are more blessed than the million who will not survive this week.
If you have never experienced the danger of battle, the loneliness of imprisonment, the agony of torture, or the pangs of starvation,

You are ahead of 500 million people in the world.

Make poverty history. Break the cycle.

Dark Times.

2010-10-02T19:13:00.000-07:00

It's 4 in the morning and I'm clad in my woolen blanket wrapped securely around me. The light ticking of my wrist watch is unusually audible, reminding me of the dawn that is approaching.

And God knows I can't sleep.

I can't say what's bothering me in the wee hours of the Egyptian morning. The plethora of things that has robbed me of lulling sleep have been nagging me for a couple of days now. I feel almost suffocated, gasping for breath. Maybe is the heat of autumn that still prevails in the air, or maybe because so many things managed to go perfectly wrong in the shortest amount of time possible.

It's enough to drive anyone mad.

Have I mentioned how much I miss home? Perhaps not. I never knew it was possible to be this homesick, but there you have it, I crippled by it. Seeing smiling faces of the summer on Facebook has brought me to tears countless times, the thought of spending the next 9 months here even saddens me more.

I feel like I've lost my footing, sprawled on the floor, with only feeble attempts to get up and start anew. How does one just restart their life once they've stumbled and fall? Or improve it on levels that surpasses expectations? How?

But one's thing for sure, I am going to get through this hour of darkness. By hook or by crook, with anyone's help or not, I am going to survive this. I might be unsure, hell, I might be utterly clueless how I'm going to do it but I will.

Cause I'm Nazeera Nasir.

Sunday Night.

2010-09-15T01:42:00.000-07:00

It feels like a Sunday night.

The merriment of the weekend has transpired, leaving us hollow with doubt and anxiety of the days to come, the harrows of the hours, the promise of a brighter future or the fear of a foreshadow upon our unprepared lives.

What will Monday hold for

me?

Another life shattering opportunity just waiting to be grabbed by the horns? Perhaps. The disaster of uncertainty ? Perhaps.

They say that third time's the charm. Well, this will be the third time I'm gonna have to say goodbye to everyone. And God knows, even the third time doesn't make it any easier. The sunken feeling is familiar but the sting still jolts your most latent of senses.

The pain still throbs

The tears still fall

The heart still cracks.

Goodbyes still hurt.

... Sigh

Farewell Sunday. Monday morning awaits.

A Way to a Man's Heart is...

2010-08-25T06:09:00.000-07:00

Today marks two weeks of fasting.

Two full whole weeks of horrific, monumental traffic congestions everywhere at approximately 4-7 pm, two long weeks of hotels and restaurants hiking buffet prices to exorbitant levels, almost taunting the middle class with unattainable gluttony, two absolute weeks of amnesia stricken souhur meals every morning

You get my point.

As of every year, Ramadan brings things to the plate; some joyous, many not.

What I love about Ramadan is that, there is a greater appreciation for the smaller, often disregarded everyday pleasures. I can't remember the last time water tasted so sweet or how it feels like to savour shreds of meat like it's your last meal.

Yes, Ramadan is a blessing for the ungrateful.

However, there is one thing that irks me so.

So, general knowledge (or not being a total oblivious ass) has made it clear that we are to pledge to refrain from food, drink and other earthly vices that make us human.

Okay, that's relatively easy to do, I suppose.

Nevertheless, our behaviour and demeanour suggests otherwise.

I have bear witness to insane, monstrous drivers, honking their car-worths of battery life, restaurant customers with anger levels escalating to extremities, spewing abuse to workers, the violent flights of inanimate objects thrown across the room and other almost barbaric decorums of usually esteemed men.

Shame on you all.

God knows, our brains only work when there is an adequate amount of glucose in our system.

Anything less, we are governed by our stomachs.

When tired and hungry, it invokes the worst of us, letting loose the beast that has been simmering its poison within our cores. And once it's free, there's no stopping its wrath.

It was literally like watching the transformation of gentlemen to brutes, royals to paupers and elites to the common. But of course, who hasn't fallen victim to acting treacherously ridiculous in times of (can you even call it that?) famine.

But as revered individuals, we shouldn't stoop to being uncouth, flaring tempers and shouting disparaging remarks when facing just one of the many tribulations to come. We're not animals with carnal instincts, but humans with thought and rationale.

Surely, we've been taught better than that.

It's Okay.

2010-08-04T08:05:00.000-07:00

When I was still a wee lass in high school, I was mostly the observer.

I was never the instigator in a fight nor was I the perpetual victim of teenage angst, well mostly cause the whole boy drama thing didn't really unfurl for me (go figure), which let us be frank, is the main reason why girls fight.

... And gossiping is excluded, cause well, everybody does it.

Even testosterone-raging boys.

Back to the point. From my 5 years of harrowing through all the melodrama, the theatrics, the peer pressure, I've realized something.

That one something I wish someone had sat me down and explained to me, would've saved me the melancholic heartbreak of growing up.

To the little younglings of this blog, heed this. I'm gonna try to hold your hand while you experience just the beginning of the surprises life has in store for you.

Just remember one thing that will always be the last spoken advice in every little predicament you're in.

It's okay.

It's okay to be that one person who's not in sync with everyone else.

You failed a paper? Single when everyone else is not? It's okay. Everything will turn out alright, you're seemingly eternal shame that has embedded itself within your core will fade away.

It's okay if you feel left out from your circle of friends.

Friends come and go, and your need to adhere to the most influential person you know too will vanish, displaced by a growing respect and love for yourself. It's difficult to understand now, but you deserve so much better.

It's okay to say no.

Your belief is what make you unique. It builds your character and it shapes your soul. And to lose that freedom, it'll be the biggest tragedy to befall mankind. Hold on to your stance in life. Never ever feel like you have to compromise yourself to be anything. Cause life is too short for you to live for somebody else.

It's okay to love and live.

What are the teens years without puppy love? Always be willing to take the plunge. Cause not taking that dive is what regrets are made of. And if you get out hurt and broken, don't worry. There's always someone out there who's gonna mend you. I promise.

Last but not least...

It's okay to laugh at yourself.

Seriously. Your pride will be the death of your juvenility and to bury your inner child will be a sad day to endure. Your cheeks might flush a bit, your story might be fodder for reunion dinners but it's a small price to pay for a good laugh and more importantly, a perpetual smile on your face and in your heart.

This is to commemorate me turning 20. The big two-oh baby. This is the part where usually people whine about being old and decrepit. But I'm not gonna worry too much. Why?

Cause it's okay.

Cause everything's gonna be okay.

Third Year, Baby.

2010-06-22T09:26:00.000-07:00

My lack of a religious immediate response aside.

YES!

Goodbye facial nerves!

So long internal capsule!

Screw you corticobulbospinal tracts!

Burn limbic system!

*If I do turn out to become a neurologist or neurosurgeon, please don't bring up this post*

So, as (un)expected, I (barely) passed semester 4. Thank you God, seriously.

And thanks to everyone and anyone who's helped me through, lending me their notes, pushing me to study, inspiring me to make an effort and letting me copy in the exams (thanks AIMAN! :P)

I can already smell the wafting scent of satay roasting over red hot coals, hear the sounds of char koay teow being fried over voluminous,roaring flames and taste the very first bites of freshly steamed dim sum.

Oh Malaysia, how you will clog my arteries and leave me connected to IV drips and ECG machines by the time I'm 45

... But that's why I love you so much. Like a parasitic lover hacking away my health and money :)

I miss the tall buildings of Kuala Lumpur, all the rude yet sentimentally valued people of the Malaysian streets, the eternally air conditioned malls, the crisp image on the first Agong on our ringgit bills, the lush blend of cultures and the humid heat that makes Malaysia, well... Malaysia.

But most of all, what I look forward to is being with those whose voice and rapport kept me through times of utter distraught and melancholy,

With those whom I've turned to for support in times of obvious struggle,

With those whose words were never harsh,

With those whose love was never barren or dry,

... And with those whom have blurred the lines between family and friends.

It's gonna be good being home.

Life's Mundane Moments

2010-06-19T04:59:00.000-07:00

If blogging was mandatory law.

I should be hung upside down, beaten with a stick, and forced to sing Justin Bieber's "Baby" til' my lungs explode from sheer embarrassment from actually knowing that song.

In other words, sorry for the lack of updates.

Exams are finally over. Thank God for that.

As Fikri Prastanta said, it was like "being kicked in the nuts by a little girl in a pink dress wearing metal shoes"

... Too much information, Fikri.

Now, the image of you rolling on the floor from the throbbing femoral pain from the per said "kicking" is engraved in my mind. And me looking awfully happy watching you seethe. Oh well.

It was tough. But one should always have faith in one self and others...

I pray that everyone will pass, insyaAllah.

Meanwhile, in the present time. I have set up a new residency in the vicinity of my bed, drawing international borderlines and called it Nazeeraland, population: me. What's there in Nazeerland, you ask? Oh plenty.

There's endless supply of food (carefully placed in a plastic bag at the foot of the bed), permanent breezy weather (courtesy of a perpetually running fan), top of the line communication devices (the internet and my phone that's never out of battery thanks to the charger that also can be found in Nazeeraland), entertainment (YouTube, Facebook and movies on my hard disk) and last but not least, a proper plumbing system (sadly, I have to get out of Nazeeraland to utilize this, I'm not gonna soil my bed, thank you)

I'm the king of my own country. I feel good :)

So far, out of the 1,2,3... 6 days of holidays, the only fun thing I did was go to Cairo. Despite the fact that the vicious sun seared it's penetrating rays into the core of my bones, leaving me squirming in the heat, I managed to fill my time there with satiating amounts of food from Chili's (paid LE 150 for my meal, can you say 'WTF?'), a movie (Prince of Persia, starring my former homo hero, Jake Gyllenhaal) and a modest shopping spree (Two eyeliners, pressed powder and a sharpener makes Nazeera a very happy girl).

However, the joy was cut short with me coming home to the news that Baby's grandfather died. Even though I didn't know him, I've heard a great deal of him and he sounded like a God-fearing man, a loving father and just a gem a to be around. What a terrible loss.

InsyaAllah, you are in a better place.

And to Baby, be strong. Shoulders are aplenty if you ever need one to lean on.

On another note...

Emos, sexists, and pedophiles.

Everything that's wrong (but hilarious) about the world.

And yes, that last one, that's a children's book.

Anyway, I have to go. Laundry and more lazing around to be done. I know, I'm such a hardworking individual, I surprise myself.

See you around.

Last Day.

2010-05-17T06:33:00.000-07:00

Last day of class.

Back in high school, the last day of class was usually celebrated with dangerous amounts of junk food and fizzy drinks that can render you into a diabetic coma.

I remember the eve before the last day, I would force my maid to fry precooked chicken cause God knows I'm too lazy to coat fresh chicken in crumbs. Go figure.

Those were the good ol' days. Days when the the last day meant no more exams, no more books, just hard partying *extended couch potato hours* and quality me time *sleep, sleep, sleep*

But now, the last day of class gives a whole different meaning.

We have exams to prepare for.

We have the new house to move into.

We have to bake in this insufferable heat while we wait for the results

Then we will have to return to our homeland to be fattened up again and further decreasing my chances of having a boyfriend... again.

I like me a challenge. :)Good luck to you all my darlings.

We can do this.

Oh, and I'll be on hiatus til' further notice.

See you real soon.

Facebook Addiction.

2010-05-06T20:48:00.000-07:00

It all started with:

Then it continued with:

And it ended with:

Okay, perhaps I was a wee bit out of line.But he started it! *in that tiny baby voice that girls make that can drive you to whip out your belt and abuse them*

Facebook has become a platform for so many things now, backbiting, gossip, cyber bullying, dating, voyeurism etc. It truly is a social network, the pros and even the dark shallow cons that leer in the crevices of our society.

Well, I did more digging. And I discovered users express all sorts of emotions on this very popular site. So much honesty, a rollercoaster of flourishing teenage angst.

... And I can hear all of you thinking "No shit, Sherlock"

From jubilant happiness:

To terse bursts of anger:

From the sexually suggestive:

To the all inspiring:

From the ambiguous:
To the inappropriate:

From simple expressions of love:

To shameless bitching:

I love Facebook. Don't you?

Dear Love.

2010-04-29T19:03:00.000-07:00

Dear Love,

Hey, it's me Nazeera.

I hope you're doing good. It's been ages since I've heard from you, maybe circa 2009 when you gave me a taste of your potent yet momentary venom that was fortunately cured by logic and rationale. Yes, you're quite the devilish one, aren't you?

Anyway, there's something I have to talk to you about. Well, I think I could well say that you probably saw this coming. Yeah, it's the talk. Why won't you take a seat? It may get a little winded.

First of all Love, I know it's your job to maintain some sort of balance of peace and serenity in this world. It's true, without you being in the picture, there's no way for harmony and tranquility to be achieved, but seriously, I think you take your job way too seriously. I see you everywhere nowadays, being whored out by the capitalistic business ventures that plague our superficial and exhibitionist society. I mean, selling yourself for 10 dollar roses and extravagantly priced chocolates? C'mon, you're better than that.

Another thing Love, why is it that when you're around, something else deteriorates? Yeah, you give everyone that butterfly fluttering effect in the pit of our stomachs and all, but is it necessary to effectively screw up other important aspects in people's lives like studies, work and friends? Why is that? Are you that conceited that you need to have all the attention to yourself? You need help, buddy.

Also, it's funny how you come and go so fast nowadays. I mean, one look between two longing pair of eyes and BOOM! there you are. However, by the first touch or third kiss, you're already on your merry way. Okay, perhaps it's not entirely your fault, perhaps your friends Infatuations and Lust are partly responsible. But you have to take control of the situation, don't let fake knock offs wear your mask. You have a reputation to maintain.

One thing I have to bring up is that the lack of diversity in your work. Young, fiery couples are not the only ones who are in need. Aging families, feuding siblings, Palestine and Israel, they all need your aid. They might not be as exhilarating as two in heat teenagers, but they're just as equally important. Hell, it's even more important. Have you seen how people switch partners nowadays, justifying themselves with mere illusions of you? Shameful.

Anyway Love, I know you're pretty busy so I'm gonna cut this short. Thanks for reading this seemingly inane letter, I really appreciate it. Hope you take heed of what I said and just chill once in a while. Take a break will you.

You don't make the world go round, you know.

P.S
Hope to hear from you real soon, I'm getting kind of lonely.

Once Upon a Time.

2010-04-25T09:14:00.000-07:00

The breeze enveloped her mind, like caressing hands on a lover's nape. She gazed onto the empty field, the greens and browns seemingly to come alive with every second her eyes linger. With utmost hesitation, she outstretched her hand, to touch the swaying grass, growing wild rebelling against the wind.

Slowly but surely, she takes a first step onto the mossy loam,the damp soil taking the weight of the world away from her heaving shoulders. Her ivory dress fled the silhouette of her body, exposing the arch of her back to the barren azure sky. Her timid eyes closed, feeling bold for once as she lifted her head up high, her hair now dancing in beautiful tangles. The rays of the sun played upon her skin, highlighting the freckles on her cheeks and the crimson tinge of her lips. Her face now, half aware of her isolation and yet still afraid of the judging stares of the heavens and earth. She wanted to break free from this scrutiny.

Freedom.

With every ounce of courage she could muster, she lifted the fabric ashen hems of her dress and started to run. Her legs sprinting through the emerald leaves. her breaths growing heavier, her heart beating away a symphony of emotions. The pain throbbing throughout her frail body. Little beads of sweat rolling down her forehead. She could hear the screams of the silence, growing louder, bombarding her with a hushed abuse. The noise of the invisible crowd, their grasp no longer bounded to her. She will no longer be battered. No longer be neglected. No longer a pawn.

She was weary. But she never stopped. She kept running. Like the wind.

Pointless? Perhaps.

But there's a story somewhere in there, I promise.

This Week's Roundup.

2010-04-16T01:54:00.000-07:00

I could honestly say, without a doubt, it felt like I lived a lifetime in one week.

It was a roller coaster of a ride, countless emotions flooding my head, planting an eternal seed that seems to have embedded itself within me.

Definitely, absolutely something I can write about in journals and put it in a box labelled

Things I Would Remind My Kids Again and Again
Why Their Mother was a Badass

So, what happened this week that turned me to an already exaggerated version of myself? *hint: total drama queen*. Well, I made a list!

Yay me.

One.
During Early Experience on Wednesday, a terminally ill, jaundice stricken patient who had an inoperable brain tumour died in the middle of class. He died slumped in his wife's arms and she started crying and screaming, stunning all of us.

Just earlier, the doctor teaching us had screamed at the dead man's family to stop coming in and out the room and told his young son that he could see his dad after the class.

I guess he never got the chance.

Two.
I'm a criminal. An utter shameless criminal.

I *along with a couple of people* stole some exam papers during the Mid Semester and I got caught. The head tutor even threatened to deduct marks and not send us lecture slides anymore.

Oh, yes, for once in my life, I felt total, body engulfing panic.

I even called my mum and told her "Forgive me if I don't come back for the summer"

Please don't let me die in this burning heat, Dr. Dalia.

However, thanks to a couple of other fellow thieves as well, we got together and apologized to Dr. Dalia. Let's just say, thanks to her graciousness, she let us off the hook with a warning as well as a reminder that the questions will not be repeated anymore hence, there's no point shredding papers anymore.

Well, good to know that I have reduced my chances of sitting for the summer exam. I have a track record and competition with my mother to think about.

Three.
I sang four songs; Yellow, Halo, Bad Romance and Mercy for college, again. It was for our Mansoura Manchester Art Gallery that was fortunately well received and showcased some of the best artwork and photographs I've seen.

Congratulations to the winners, Sherif and some-other-guy-who-was-not-Taqi as well as to Hadeer Soultan and Basim Helmy for coordinating the event. Hopefully, in about 4-5 years time, we can kick AUC's ass.

Oh, and thanks to Ahmed Yousry for playing the piano/keyboard. Hope you get your tuned, pitch perfect voice back man, I'm gonna wait for that day.

Four.
My friend has found a new boyfriend and they're in their honeymoon stage. I guess it doesn't really apply to me but I'm allowed to brood, right? She even changed her number so that it'll be cheaper to text him.

So, Baby and I decided to change our numbers too so that we can text each other.

What is that? I hear a nomination for The Most Pathetic Moment of 2010?

Total frontrunner.

Five.
I gave a presentation yesterday. Fairouz and I to be specific. About the "Epidemiology of Multiple Sclerosis". Fairouz was fantastic as usual.

I however, showed the world my ataxic gait and probably scared off every boy who thought I was remotely a lady.

Oh well.

Six.
Another thing that doesn't really apply to me but I think ought to have an ounce of empathy for this one.

It's about the lack of human rights that terrifyingly rampant in this one unspecified country. Back home in Malaysia, you ~~hardly~~ never see kids working a full time job, or your own people begging on the streets. And even that, we complain and moan about the lack of human rights and transparency that plague our government.

But hey, compared to atrocity that is unfurling before my eyes, Malaysia's living the life of luxury.

Corruption has left a widening gap between the filthy rich and disgustingly poor people. The most revolting part is how a country with so much Islamic values indoctrinated within them are inhumane savages who's creativity in inducing torture onto its people breaks every barrier of cruelty and monstrous barbarism.

God have mercy on your souls.

Anyway, I have to go perform my duties to God now. Also, I have a crapload of work to complete, being the eager person who wants to go back and hug her bag *and family and friends* ... I gotta start now!

See you people

Me, a guy? Totally, Utterly... Possible.

2010-04-10T17:20:00.000-07:00

An absolutely absurd thought crossed my mind today. If it not were for the obvious female body parts...

I could EASILY pass for guy.

I'm serious.

First of all, I'm not thinking of a sex change or anything.

Cool if that happened though? Man, this blog would be a hit!

Memoirs of a Hijabi Transvestite. I can see the moolah now.

Back to the point, one of the the most obvious things is that I actually really really like football. I mean, I would dive in head first in a mosh pit in Old Trafford, any time baby.

That's how much I love football, people.

Yes, I don't watch all the matches, but hey, the only reason why I don't is because I have my studies to think about. And the fact, I'm such a bitch when watching a match.

I would literally whimper if the game doesn't go well.

You know that that twist of the gut feeling you get when you know something's bad about to happen? Yes, THAT happens to me each time I watch Manchester United playing like shit. And they often play like shit, like they're doing the damn job for free. I swear, if you're being paid like a corrupted minister, make a damn effort for God's sake! Sheesh.

Anyway, second, about expressing your feelings.

God, I hate gushing.

Period.

It's not that I'm heartless, but I don't really hate using the words "hurts", "so much" or "cry" in the same sentence. Oh no, doesn't mean I never went through the whole heartbreak phase. Of course I did. I am a teenager after all.

But to moan and groan about it to another person, wanting his/her sympathy? Oh my god, I rather bleed internally.

I mean, I'd like to think my problems are mine to solve. Burdening it onto others would not only make things worst, it'll probably piss that person off, cause you know, they don't too don't want your bull ruining their day. Yes, friends are there to help you through the day, but hey, everybody has their limits. And I for once, am not gonna be the unlucky dumbass pushing those limits.

Third is, chick lits.

Now, this is problem that I think everyone should consider a global problem, put it up there along with the Al Qaeda and world hunger.

Why does ANYONE buy/read chick lits? Why does anyone with a single, functioning brain cell read chick lits? Why do you want to jeopardize your IQ and every useful information in your brain by the reading the absolute filth of literature? Absolute bottom of the lot? God knows.

I bought this one book once called Wives and Girlfriends by Katie Agnew in Heathrow airport, hoping for a light read on the plane. Not only was the novel disgustingly camp and trivial, it was a chance for a faux celebutante to flaunt the excessive, unbelievable lifestyle in the faces of many, hoping for a quick buck from this blatant brandishing of so-called opulence. I for one, honey, am not buying it.

The book was almost as bad as the Twilight series. She kept reusing the same phrases again and again like "chocolate brown" and "velvety smooth" to describe things. Sounds like a Peter and Jane Introduction to English book if you ask me.

Argh, I should finish ranting about this quickly before I go absolutely mad and might go on shooting rampage.

Last but not least, is my far from feminine behaviour.

Unless you're absolutely blind, illiterate or just in constant denial, as you can see, I swear, a lot. I know it suppose to be "cool" to swear like a sailor but deep down, I'd really want to stop this unhealthy habit.

I would like to express my feelings in the most simple, holistic ways and since not all of us like reading big words and quickly googling them, I use common vulgarity to articulate what I feel. Particularly when that feeling is a fiery, agitated one.

I'm loud, assertive, rarely indecisive, headstrong and have less than 10 pairs of shoes.

I don't like walks in the rain, I don't like flowers *they die for Pete's sake!*, chocolates are only meant to be bought by me and eaten quietly like a criminal enjoying their last meal, I like wearing pants and I do threaten anyone remotely annoying with physical violence.

Don't I sound like a catch?

Exam Scars.

2010-04-08T01:55:00.000-07:00

This is me.

... This morning.

I'm definitely feeling the heat of the exam now. Went to the toilet twice today when I hardly ate anything yesterday.

I could feel the emptying of HCl from my tummy.

Oh yeah...

The Big Bad Stress Diarrhea Monster has finally yielded its ugly head.

Does this every damn year as well.

I remember during my SPM Additional Math paper *which I got a C for ANYWAY* I was practically spewing blood after numerous trips to the toilet while staying up for the night, studying.

Exams and me just do not go together, just never did make our peace. We're like an old married couple where I'm the subservient wife who's being beaten repeatedly by her superior, condescending husband, leaving me numerous and multiple scars all over my ragged body.

Only this one, I cannot take to court or sue for alimony. Damn.

Yesterday, I received an email from my mum saying she's worried about my studies, about me coming online too often and even assumed I was busy clubbing AND dating.

Dear Mummy,
Your daughter has not had a date for the longest of time. 20 years this 2nd of August, to be exact.

And clubbing, there are no clubs in Mansoura.

So yes, you don't have to worry about your daughter being a wayward wild child while being here. Oh, but au contraire, she's even being accused of being a spy for PCM.

Hilarious? I thought so too.

Thank you.

5alas keda.

Anyway, I really got to start studying today before I go bonkers. Chinese competitiveness kicking in! Gotta get things done, you know, before the clubbing and dating starts ;)

See you.

My first (not quite) Oscar!

2010-04-06T04:54:00.000-07:00

Here are some rules to accept the award:

Thank and link the person who gave you the award.
Pass this award to 15 bloggers you recently discovered.
Contact the blogger and tell them they've won the award.
State seven things about yourself.

I was tagged by Kak Nadia!
I haven't done one of these things in a while, so I'm pretty stoked do the whole "Things You Should Know/Never Knew About Me" list.

Another chance to brag about/embarrass myself. Yippee.

7 Things
You Never Knew About Me/Should Know About Me/Already Knew But Forgotten About Me/Better Know or Else...

Number One.
I am only child. Never had siblings. I guess I'm pretty well adjusted to the solitude and lack of people around. But hey, I like my little family.

Number Two.
I know several iconic dances. Not iconic per say, just really popular ones, however shitty they might be. This includes:

Soulja Boy
Thriller
YMCA
The Chicken Dance

Throw a party and I'll show you what I can thrown on the dance floor baby ;)

Number Three
I like partying. 'Nuff said.

Number Four
I once stole a story book from a book fair in my school when I was seven. I think I still have it somewhere at home.

Number Five
I write poetry. It's rather difficult to comprehend someone as boisterous and obnoxious as me has the soul of a poet, but hey, Bush was president, anything is possible.

Number Six
I have a rather diverse and eclectic taste in music. It ranges from the Beatles to Coldplay, from Josh Groban to Stereophonics, from Eric Clapton to Lady Gaga. As long as it has lyrical and musical value, I'll listen to it.

Number Seven
This is a real honest one. Even if I'm a Muslim girl, I have trouble accepting the whole "women are the weaker sex" thing everyone is trying to impose onto me. It's a rather difficult concept to grasp, that women cannot be leaders, having to be almost subservient to men. It's a debatable topic but what I believe in, yes, we have different responsibilities but in the matters where women are just as competent as men, I don't see a reason why women should be brushed off as the more inept gender.

I'm done :)

Okay, I don't know 15 bloggers BUT I'm just gonna tag those whom I know haven't received this award.

Picka
Mun'aim
Fikri Prastanta
Mastura Mat Yasim
Dora Yaacob
Aliza

Till the time wasting update.
See you!

Friends Say the Darndest Things.

2010-04-04T23:36:00.000-07:00

Hello all.

To follow up the blogging marathon that I'm on right now, I've decided to post another non-angry post to ease the tension of the "slander" and "anonymous" blogging fiasco that's happening right now.

I swear to God, I have some of the funniest friends... ever.

Well, these are the some of the things we say that we'll burst into laughter mid conversation.

Conversation 1

*talking about doing good towards our parents*

NB: Tu la, sementara mereka ada...
*cutting in*
AAR:... Mintaklah duit dari mereka.

translation:

NB: That's why, while they're still alive...
*cutting in*
AAR: Ask them for money.

Conversation 2

*talking about how popular our Egyptian friend AR is on Facebook*

NN: Yeah, all the girls love Amr.
ST: *imitating a girl* Oh Amr, marry me or I'll commit suicide, you have 30 seconds
NN: ... Posted one hour ago.

Conversation 3

FAA: Tu la, family die nak Sharifah.
MF: Aah, Sharifah selalunya hidung mancung.
FAA: Kurang ajar kan?
MF: ... Dan putih.

translation:

FAA: Exactly, his family wants a Sharifah
MF: Yeah, Sharifah's have sharp noses
FAA: You're being an ass...
MF: ... and fair.

Conversation 4

ST: He has another girlfriend
NN: Ugly people are not allowed to cheat! EVER!

Conversation 5

*about the recent commotion about the photos in the blog*

AAR: Hek ele, emo macam gambar die je yang masuk!
MF: Hey, mata aku nampak SIKIT okay!

translation:

AAR: She's being all pissed off like her photo was up in the blog as well!
MF: Hey, you could see my eyes okay!

Conversation 6

AYF: Hey, say hi to her for me, will ya? *pauses* How gay does that sound?
NN: I've accepted your pseudohomo a long time ago.

Conversation 7

MEM: I tried looking for that song, "Times goes by so slowly" by Madonna but I can't find it anywhere!
ST: It's called Hung Up.

Conversation 8

AA: Kita kena buat apa kita suka untuk relax.
FHR: Abang Amin, saya kan ada problem. Kalau saya tension, saya makan, lepas saya makan, saya tengok saya gemuk lagi, saya lagi naik tension.
AA: Perlu ke bagitau?

translation:

AA: We have to do the things we like to relax.
FHR: Abang Amin, I have a problem. When I'm stressed, I eat. When I see I've grown fatter, I get even more stressed.
AA: Was it necessary to tell everyone?

Conversation 9

*talking about the Jonas Brothers*

OEN: Eww, fcukin faggots.
NN: God doesn't love you enough to make you a Jonas Brother.

Conversation 10

*comments on a picture where PW has a zit*

MS: Jerawat!
PW: Annoying Mye! Macam dajal mata tiga!

translation:

MS: PIMPLE!
PW: Mye, you're annoying! Like a three eyed Antichrist.

Ten for now, until I can think up of some more!

See ya :)

Boyzone, how I miss you.

2010-04-04T02:05:00.000-07:00

I'm gonna be stoned for apostasy for these pictures.

But I'm trying out a new concept of:

Less words, more pictures!

Anyway, there are a few things I would like to address.

Numero uno:
Why music was created in the first place:

This song is called Layla by Eric Clapton. Granted, it might not fit everyone's taste of music. Some people adore the whole "boyband" phase thing that seemed to have fleeted away as quickly as their boyish good looks

Exhibit A

Becomes...

... And the cute little gay one is dead.

Also, given the fact that I grew up listening to a lot 70's and 80's rock, blues and RnB... oh, and Michael Jackson.

My mum loved MJ

She even had those ancient black frisbees of Off The Wall and Thriller. And yes, she even had the cassettes *Oh, how I loved to pull out the flimsy films out*

As I was saying, I grew up loving these kind of crap so naturally, Eric Clapton was THE man. We had the The Clapton Chronicles album that never left the car until I stole it and ripped it into my computer.

Man, that was an incredible album.

It was the first time I heard Layla, which I read from trusty ol' Wikipedia that he was talking about George Harrison's wife that he was madly in love with.

Pattie Boyd.

It's difficult to imagine that name with that face.

Maybe, cause another certain singer who has a similar name *hint* Susan BOYle *hint* has totally tarnished my association of that name with something remotely attractive. Heh.

In conclusion, take a listen, and be ready for an out of this world, cosmic journey of musical adventure. Remember to hold on to something before you embark on this mind blowing experience.

Adios.

Numero dos.

There's been some fire that's blazing about the whole Info Kini blog that had bash the whole GMMSC Dinner that we all thought was a good first try despite having no prior experience in conducting something so elaborate and grandiose. Congratulations to you guys.

I have only one thing to say to you disgusting cowardly author on Info Kini who's attempts at being funny just fails repeatedly.Enough said.

I'm not gonna waste my time posting comments/statuses on FB cause I know this is what you craved for in the first place.

Publicity.

Come out from the shadows and then we'll talk.

From a door preferably, cause I'm scared that you'll be turned on by my feminine voice that can cause you to commit unimaginable sins.

Oh, how you people are sick.

Numero Tres

Oh, Manchester United.

:(

Numero cuatro

We have possibly found a house. It's about 1000 square feet, 1400 a month. But no furniture.

Oh, the possibilities of crap I plan to buy are endless.

... this is the time where a certain superior power *cough* parent *cough* is suppose to offer me more money to buy more things to alleviate my poverty stricken life.

Thank you :)

P-P-Poker Face.

2010-04-01T02:05:00.000-07:00

Today, so far... is not a good day.

I woke up this morning with the most overwhelming feeling of lethargy and malaise that just makes that little voice that lies deep in the core of your soul whisper...

Today is gonna be the first of the many days that you feel like you're gonna kill yourself but you can't cause

a) It contradicts with religion
b) You're the only child, so there's no substitute
c) You're just being melodramatic, so shut up and pull yourself together, woman!

Yes, even my inner voice is a bitch.

Anyway, due to my superb track record of updating my lblog, I probably did not mention anything about:
a) Exams
b) Talent Show
c) The embarrassing outcome of the aforementioned talent show.

Exams are around the corner, 12th of April to exact. Eleven more days and counting! I gotta pass this semester cause I seriously do not want to to stay for the summer. Why? Cause the longer I stay here, the more I'm reminded why I miss Malaysia, my family, my friends and yes, even the nosy relatives I have back home.

Note to nosy relative:
I'm sorry your son couldn't get into medical school with his 7A's and I got into one with 5A's, but hey, I can't depend on the government for everything.

So, if your son wanted a scholarship into medical school, didn't get one and so gave up his dream, suck it up and don't gripe about how I'm paying my way through.

Don't worry, the government gave up on me as well.

Talent Show!

Gah, pictures are popping out left and right from that ominous day, including infinite photos of me in now what's called "The Joker" lipstick, my Lady Gaga shades, and my big ass grin that took up the majority of the space on my face.

Oh, the shame, the absolute shame.

We got third by the way. The first was Timi's band, Rubu' Firah (literally means 1/4 Chicken), second was Jaja's band *who has an ah-may-zing voice btw* The Duo and coming in third, is me! Or my band, Malayzee Bas (means, Only Malaysians).

My friends, Hajar and Fatin were on keyboards and guitar respectively while Pika was the other vocalist. Oh, and like three bands shared the same drummer, Aniq. Seriously, you guys rock! And sorry for being overly bossy during practice sessions. I just wanted everyone to do their best :)

I sang a medley of Thinking of You, Poker Face and I Will Survive.

Man, that last song really got the crowd going. I'm not surprised after this, I'll be on PCM's watch list for committing "maksiat" of the highest degree. Even Dr. Dalia came up to me and said she wanted to dance along but couldn't for obvious reasons. So yeah, I made our Head Tutor want to dance, I should be given a Grammy... or at least money. I like money

Pika on the other hand sang Down by Jay Sean. The crowd even sang along with her, which was incredible. And all that weird dancing was caught on tape! Oh, I smell blackmail material in the air.

So it's official baby, we were born for the stage.

... And the operating room of course.
I keep forgetting we're gonna be doctors.

But at the end of the day, I made new friends and definitely some confidence even if my face was hidden behind the a stretch of red paint. I'd do it again next year, definitely.

Anyway, I gotta get going. Shower, then I'm gonna hit the books. See you when I see you.

Diet.

2010-03-11T21:46:00.000-08:00

I'm going on a diet.

... A SERIOUS ONE THIS TIME.

What made me realize this was the fact...."dude, it's already 2010. I'm 20 this year" Suddenly I'm reminded of wedding bells and lifelong commitment.

I want a man, damnit!

This goes against every feminist principle I have ever. Forgive me fighters for women's liberation.

Everybody in this house has a boyfriend. Every-damn-one.

... About 10-11 pm at night, when I'm studying like a nutjob, they're on the phone with their respective loved ones.

... Before an exam, they get encouragement from their boys while all I get is a phone call from my parents telling me not to screw up or to the streets I'll go.

... If they have problems, they have someone to tell them to. Any minuscule little detail that goes in their mind. I on the other hand have a friends who are too far away for me to burden my problems on them.

Dude, I want all that too!

Valentines gifts...
Handholding when I'm in a crowd *even if I'm like a foot taller than most people*...
Those"Blair and Chuck" moments that all those moronic couples are chasing after *it's a bloody TV show,people!*...
Someone to actually makes an effort when chatting.

Damn, I want all of that.

Gah, enough soul spilling already. Daddy, don't EVER bring this up. I'm your only ~~daughter~~ child and your happiness depends on my happiness. Thank you.

And to anyone who reads this, if you see me snacking or having a heavy lunch/dinner.

Tell me to drop the meal and stop!

It's time I change my life for the better.

*edit*
I'm in the FINALS people.
For the Talent Show and the GMNSC Photography competition.
Go see the final photos at the GMNSC blog

London Baby!

2010-02-04T18:52:00.001-08:00

Holy mother of SpongeBob.

I'm actually gonna go to London.

Yes, it dawned upon me after years of whining to my mum about how we never go anywhere except balik kampung and "merapatkan silaturahim" with the Pilah folks, she finally budged from her mingy ways and we're final-damn-ly going on a holiday.

Yipee!

Miracles do come true.

I'm currently listening to Free Fallin' from John Mayer, staring at a McVitie's biscuit package, staring at the soon-to-break-down heater, counting the number of clothes hangers I have, wondering why chocolate tastes so good and yet it kills your chances of ever getting a man

... generally procrastinating from packing.

But me being me, I always have a solid, concrete reason why I have not progressed onto the next step of travelling:

a) It's too damn cold
b) It's too bloody cold
c) It's too mindblowingly cold
d) It's just extremely ~~hot~~ cold.

So, here I am, blogging.

I have a plethora of things I wanna do when I reach there. So many, just simply too many.

England To Do List '10

One

Souvenirs, souvenirs, souvenirs: The cheaper, the better. I'm still half Chinese after all

Two
Old Trafford: Glory glory biatch!

Three
Stamford Bridge or Emirates Stadium: Just to catch a glimpse of John Terry/Theo Walcott. Football rivalry or not, I'll take them on, anytime.

Four
Madame Tussaud's Wax Museum: I've been there actually, I want to relive the execution by guillotine exhibition again. Gore is beauty.

Five
Harrods: Sushi, sushi, sushi... and Princess Diana's memorial

Six
Err... kabobs?

Seven

Paris: We're just doing the French government a favour by using their Eurostar services. The phrase "let's not shop" shall not escape the dance of our lips. And mummy... nak beg baru :)

Eight
British food: I wanna see what's all the rage about a full English breakfast. If I get food poisoning, await my lawyer's letter, Gordon Brown.

Nine
Stereophonic's Greatest Hits: It will be like raising a toast with the Holy Grail. This elusive CD had me chasing it from Kuala Lumpur to Cairo. It was a transcontinental search that will end with victory and valor in London, when I see the white cover staring me in the face at Virgin, insyaAllah.

Ten
Friends inhabiting the island: I actually made some minor plans with a friend to meet up in London. I haven't seen him in about 3 years and I'm pretty excited about it. Abscence makes the heart grow fonder and way more expectant of gifts when she reaches there. Hint hint.

I'm growing sleepy and restless. An hour or two of sleep, breakfast, and then off to Cairo for a 9.30 am flight the next morning.

Pray for my safety and God bless.
Au revoir Mansoura.

M.Y.O.F.B

2010-02-03T03:18:00.000-08:00

I've written exactly two posts in January. Compared to a certain housemate who has written over 40+ posts in those 31 days.

Shame on you, Nazeera.

I really need some diligence to write sustain this still on life support blog before it fades into oblivion.

Anyway, onto more pressing matters. Tomorrow is the OSCE exam. Last year, it was about the Upper Limb and Lower Limb, identifying muscles on the exam sheet, with this one very frivolous looking 50-something, Egyptian who couldn't keep his wandering eyes and toothless grin to himself.

I remember being so nervous, that to a point, I even got confused between a sperm and an ovum *hint* they're not from the same , genitalia *hint*. Oh, of course, how I wanted to jump off a building after that exam. But knowing this place, I'll probably fall onto a heap of donkey crap and survive.

Oh, damn.

*Again, just a joke, I do not condone suicide :)*

And on the 6th, I'm flying to London, insyaAllah. I'm rather excited to see my parents again after almost 4 months and visiting London again. The first time was when I was 12, during the Golden Jubilee. I remember ransacking Tesco for having prepackaged frosted cakes, paying 5 pounds for a plate of friend noodles, having sushi in Harrods and getting deliberately ignored at a bloody kabob stall for not having an English accent by a South Asian man.

I would like to say Mr. Person-Who-Came-From-The-Same-Continent-As-Me selling dry to the bone shawarmas at the kabob stall

...screw you

Your shawarma tasted like crap and you look like you should be stopped at the airport.

Anyway, in a not-as-productive-as-I-wanted-day, I had a very annoying encounter with a rather grotesque person who shall be named Pak Geham (Pak Cik Geli Macam Haram). I was studying with my friend in her room and while on a break, we were fooling around with the webcam. Suddenly, Pak Geham acquired about me, like I was some mail order bride, vulgarity in it's full glory.

" What is her height and weight?"

He asked my housemate. I was trying to be a sport and ignore the obvious cyber harassment but he continued with...

" Obese la tu"

Stop, right there, asshole.

Pak Geham went on further of insinuating I was this dumbass that didn't have an ounce of intelligence in my brain, unqualified to speak of religion and social indecencies and was incapable of conversing in English *the dumbass said he got a 97 for his English SPM, which tells us how old this revolting piece of turd really is*

I'm sorry for not entertaining your pathetic attempt at impressing me,Pak Geham but I only bat an eyelash for people who do not come from scum of the earth. You probably got a scholarship, learned fcking English from a browning, second hand Oxford dictionary, made a small fortune from kissing government officers asses and for that, you think you have the world at the palm of your hand and that you are God's gift to women.

Thanks but not thanks Pak Geham. I like men who are not complete brainless charity cases of the government and you sir unfortunately fall into that category. Instead of wishing you death, I'm just gonna go for the subtle...

I hope you get anally raped by a gang of homosexual hobos who share needles and have a fetish of gluing their victim's scrotum during intercourse

I'm sorry my obese self has polluted your spectrum of beautiful women that seem to be undeniably attracted to you *your mother and your insufferable wife do not count*. Please, snap out of your self centered fantasy and understand that you are nothing but dirt under my shoes. Worthless, shameless, brainless, disgusting and utterly wretched.

You don't know who you're dealing with.

Not a bad post for a girl who didn't get 97 in her English SPM eh?

Habis Madu, Sepah Dibuang.

2010-01-23T12:27:00.000-08:00

I think every Malay-speaking, hormone filled teenage girl was warned repeatedly about dating, with this saying naturally taking its place in the most overused phrase *other than "jangan pula perigi mencari timba", another annoying saying that seemed to plague our pride laden society*

To those who know me, I used to be rather Malay impaired *Yes, I have this weird pseudo American accent, blame MTV* but coming here, being surrounded by people who take pride in speaking Malay, I have indulged and embraced further speaking my mother tongue and have been immersed one of the many things that make Malay so rich in culture: Peribahasa.

This particular one strikes a chord in all our hearts doesn't it?

The ultimate fear that if one lead a social life wild enough, the repercussions will great enough to leave us unwanted by the opposite sex.

As crude as any saying might go, we can paraphrase this "peribahasa" into something simpler;

Nobody wants used goods.

... or in society, this means girls who have been with other boys *may it be physically or emotionally.

Ah, I have such an enormous bone to pick with society on this one.

I don't condone sexual freedom, just keep your debauchery to yourself...

But, I really have to ask to all those men out there:

What is your problem?

Is it not bad enough that you've been with a girl and not taken responsibility over her current stigmatized status, escaping scot free when in fact it takes two to tango? Need you label the promiscuous, punish the lewd, verbally whip the unchaste while sitting on your high horse?

Why is it so easy to forget the immorality you've shared and be so quick to judge and snicker at those crestfallen harlots you now call them?

Why is it so easy for you to move on?

We shed tears for you.

We put our trust in you

We gave ourselves to you, mind, body and soul

We promised our hearts to you

We held your hand when you are at your weakest

... And you expect us to just accept it when you toss us aside and move on to your next wide eyed victim?

And you, this is why religion preaches abstinence and boundaries, the same religion you were brought up in and now have abandoned, it's to protect us women from bastards like you, from slander, from being hurt and from being another notch on your bedpost.

But you know what, I have one more thing to offer you: my sympathies and gratitude.

I'm sorry that you've chosen this path.

I'm sorry that you think down south more than you do north

I'm sorry that you've discarded a chance to escape your depraved past

I'm sorry that you've turned your back on a stipulation-free friendship.

.... and I'm glad that I've saved my friend from such a disgusting animal like you.

P.S

To you,

You're hanging on a very delicate thread.... and Mansoura's been very windy lately, don't you think?

The Hiatus is Over.

2010-01-16T09:22:00.000-08:00

I hear grumbling.

Yes, yes.
Sorry, but I was strucked by a two month long condition of lazyitis and notgivingadamnoma.

Yes, I care more about my CafeWorld, than blogging.
*speaking of CafeWorld, I lost about 20,000 CafeCoins worth of food because FB malfunctiioned and cleaned all the food on the counter AND the stove. Screw you Facebook!*

How selfish eh?

The year 2010 is here, finally.

The big two-o for me.

That marks a good 20 years of not having a proper boyfriend and never getting straight A's *I was always one or two subjects off, yes, the classic dumbass syndrome*

I lead a very pathetic life, please don't judge :)

Anyway, I just realized that in all those years, I've made some of the best friends, best memories and eye opening experiences I will never trade in for anything.

I can honestly say I've learned firsthand some of the lessons in life you only hear old people moaning about.

Lesson #1
First impressions always lie.

Always, without a doubt, with the first glance of a person, you cannot judge the content of their character.
I have a friend named Nik Shazarina.
Other names people might call her: Princess, Bitch, Snob etc.
And honestly, that's what I called her as well, the first time we met in Form 1.
She went on and on about her last school, Convent Bukit Nenas, about how awesome the cheerleading team was, how her last school was so much cooler.
...and naturally, most of us almost got a stick out and beat the living crap out of her.
But as time went on, I found out Nik likes animals as much as I do, she does charity work, she respects her heritage *I don't hate you for being Kelantanese Nik :)* and she is willing to sacrifice her time and money for our ailing Model United Nations club.
And I love her loads for that.
Thus, lesson learned as a teenager, never ever judge a book by its cover, especially if the book will hit your hard, inflicting borderline paralysis each time you insult her.
So, don't.

Lesson #2
Popularity doesn't buy friendship

There was this girl in my school, let's just call her Miss. A.
Miss A was okay-looking, not hideous but not exactly runway material.

But she had one thing going for her: Manipulation

She would make friends with only the coolest people
You either had to be rich or gorgeous or be in with the "it" crowd to be friends with her

Not that it bothered many of us but it was fun watching this small, minuscule little girl trying to create borders of elitism during a time where most of us were too immersed in personal angst to actually give a crap.

And how she got into that crowd in the first place?

She gossiped about everyone and supplied everyone with the juiciest and darkest of secrets people told her in private, without a flinch of guilt.

...Then tragedy struck.

She got into a fight *guess about what? hint: she let someone's secret out* with one of the Queen Bees of the popular crew and was ostracized shortly after.

No one, I repeat.... no one wanted to be friends with her.

And I'm sorry to say, even I was one of the "smile, wave and quickly look away" friends that she had after her dethronement *well, not because she was stripped off her nobility but she pissed me off so many times that I could've torn her flesh off without any remorse*.

She eventually changed schools.

Lesson number 2, popularity doesn't go a long way, when the means of getting there will probably send you straight to hell.

Lesson number #3
Always be there for someone, even if they have wronged you

This is a vital one.

The place: School and every where else
The time: 2006, 16 years old
The problem: when boys become bitches.

My friend and her boyfriend were inseparable.
They went everywhere together, and she adored him so because he was rich, good looking and in her words... a good kisser.
But I had a problem with this boyfriend of hers, he only liked his girlfriend's pretty friends.
... and obviously that didn't include me.

So, being the belligerent little wench that she was, she adhered to what he said.

If there was an outing that included her boyfriend, she would exclude me.

Oh, in my mind, I had laid out a torture plan for each person, a repeated circumcision by rabid dogs for the boyfriend and for my insolent friend, I would push her off a cliff and watch with a wide, depraved smile.

But of course, happily ever after only existed in books and in states of denial.

They eventually broke up, because she said he treated her badly, not returning her phone calls and ultimately ignored her public, and she couldn't take it anymore
*I chuckled a bit, to be honest*
And guess who she came to?
I don't know if she felt guilty or regretful...

But I sure felt fantastic.
:)

Lesson #4

Respect yourself

I know this one girl, a senior.
She gained a notorious reputation for being a whore.

Why?

Cause she was one of those risque girls that seemed to lead a life of sexual liberation.
She was bisexual, so she did everything, tried everyone, literally the epitome of free and easy.
She had her own wild crowd that seemed to have celebrated their debauchery.

But one day, she got pregnant and that's how all her dirty little secrets spilled over.
People were disgusted by her, people even thought twice before touching her.

... Just because she wanted to have a little fun before growing up.
There's no harm leading a life of merriment while we're young, but limits are important.
There's no such thing as living in the moment and not suffer the repercussions later.

From my teenage experience, I can say that it was one whirlwind that have fed me with some of the best stories I can tell to the future generation. The good and the bad things of growing up should be experienced by everyone, even if it's in varying degrees of intensity. We should learn to make our own mistakes in order to create our own life story.
Living large starts here...

Cause growing up is one hell of an adventure.

Democracy Gone Awry

2009-12-02T02:29:00.000-08:00

Today is the PCM's election day here in Mansoura.

Can you hear that chirpiness and glee in my typing while you read this?

Oh, you can't?

Good... cause obviously I'm not at all happy about this election

This shenanigan of an election have harrowed through many criticisms and scathing comments.
I shall not divulge furtherbut let me just say, in a time of crisis and call for democracy,

Not everyone stepped up to demonstrate their leadership and tolerance towards others

The election was done in the least publicized manner, a few forwarded messages on YM, petty fliers distributed among peers and a few announcements on PCM's website. I swear, if Mao Ze Dong and Stalin were alive, they would be proud of the almost camouflaged way how this election was carried out. Rather communist like don't you think?

And somebody pointed out that we're archaic, that we're outdated, that it's our responsibility to be thoroughly informed about these things, in any way possible. He went further as to label us cavemen just because we have better things to do than religiously scour through PCM's blog.

Yes sure, throw your responsibilities at us. Pass it around. It's a bloody ball isn't it, and this situation is a bloody game.

Your failure to create a buzz for something so vital to our student life here and you decide to put the blame on us for not being in the know? Shame on you for calling yourself a conscientious member of PCM.

Another incident was that some of the overzealous fanatics of PCM had deemed our petition *the one we created to protest against the hush-hush elections* non Islamic and considered this opposition an attack on the leaders of Islam.
Hmmm, I wonder...

In which verse in the Koran did God choose one more prophet after Muhammad?

So why the hell are you putting yourself on such a high pedestal?

Us attacking the election and forming the petition DOES NOT equate to attacking Islam. It's a rather bold declaration isn't it, to consider yourself a leader of Islam when in actual fact, you even mooting the thought contradicts with the teaching of Islam *the last time I checked, Islam didn't encourage conceited behaviour*

You holier-than-thou hooligans, I'm tired of listening of you whine and moan about how we do not conform to the you own self interpretation of Islam. Does that make us apostates? Enemies of Islam?
Of course not.

Just because we stall your agenda to rise to power does not mean we aspire to destroy PCM or Islam for that matter. As a leader, you should be able to comprehend the fact that everybody's view might differ from the other and this does not mean that one person's perception of the same idea is wrong. Do not negate something that contradict your ideas just because you're not comfortable with it. It shows weakness, pettiness and most of all, chauvinistic behaviour.

Just stop it.

Dear Dr. Amal Fathy,

2009-11-17T04:40:00.000-08:00

Greetings Doctor,

This is in regards of what happened today. You know, the utter humiliation I endured while you chastised me in front of a whole classroom filled with my colleagues when I did nothing apparently wrong but a mere side discussion REGARDING your X-Ray which I thought was a too miniscule of a problem to be discussed in your esteemed presence.

Sure, it some context, I am at fault for talking while you yourself were explaining something to an Egyptian student but me expressing my own interest in the topic that you have been divulging about is not a crime that should be punished in a group of my own associates.

If my minor offence is deemed a crime deserving of capital punishment, I would like to bring your attention to the fact that my so called abomination is practiced by every other Egyptian student there are.

Each and every one.

So me being singled out, out of the hundreds that have committed the same crime, in lectures, in everybloodywhere I say that's discrimation of the highest degree.

You might not evidently dislike me because I'm Malaysian, but your nitpicking sure does paint a whole mural of prejudice.

And by the way, if you are wondering why I creating such a havoc with my side chatter, I was just telling my other friend how the wedged area is a necrotic tissue due to an infarction.

And I was right wasn't I?

But I chose not to argue with your cause I am trying to portray this image of feminity and shed my boisterous, argumentative ways.

Oh, how much I wanted to bicker with you, in front of everyone, but who loses at last?

Me.

Cause I'll be known as the girl who fights authority, the girl who's unfit to be courted, the trouble maker and disrespectful to her elders.

Maybe you were having a bad day, but having it manifest into this shallow and stoic attitude will not do any of us any good.

You'll probably have a laugh about it and will it atone to anything besides a few chuckles?

I am not your subordinate for you to dictate whether I can talk or not.

I am not your superior for you to drop to your knees and apologize.

I am however a student yearning to be taught, opening my heart and soul to this while you are my doctor, who's suppose to be the epitome of reliability and trust.

Guess, that's gone now.

Kampung No More!

2009-11-10T10:19:00.000-08:00

When I came here in October 2008, I remember shedding a tear or two when I saw the dirty roads, the collapsed remnants of bridges and the odd pointy nosed people that reminded me...

You're no longer in Kuala Lumpur, let alone Malaysia.

But for the sake of my education, my independence, and my laziness to continue A-Levels in Sunway *GAH, I hate A-Level Chemistry. Die vile thing... DIE!!!*, I decided to suck it up and stay in Mansoura, the town where their favourite words include "Honga bonga", "What is your name?" and "Apa khabar? (Get a thesaurus you douchebags)

But for most, including me, it was the adapting that was pretty difficult. Being in Malaysia for so long, it was the first time I lived in a place without a McDonald's, a CD store, hawker stalls, 24-Hour Mamak restaurants and of course.... Starbucks *Oh, how we love the Bucks of Star*

However, today, after almost of a year of planting my feet onto the soil of Mansoura, I have seen that miracles do come true. Globalization is as it's name suggest, misses no country, no city and no town. This includes the "Kuala Lumpur 70-years-ago and if everyone spoke Arabic and had no fashion sense" Mansoura.

According to a Semester 5 senior, this miracle building was ready about a month ago, a couple of weeks before I arrived. It was like they knew! They knew that I was going to blow my brains out from the lack of technological progress that this country oh-so-needs and they saved me from my impending suicide *this is a joke, just kidding, I'm not at all depressed*

Anyway, wondering what is this sensational miracle I'm talking about?

I give you...

Behold!

Yes, bow to the Awadalla, you mere mortals.

Haha, it's the first large supermarket (or hypermarket) in Mansoura.

I've found my new hangout place :)

*Yes, we are that pathetic*

When Dora and I got there, we were ECSTATIC.

Like how I felt when I saw the snow capped mountains of Kyoto.

Except this was like a liberation from this archaic town that has probably seen it's fair share of history in the making.

So we all entered *after taking pictures like idiots* into the hypermarket, and I literally gasped.

I GASPED.

Ah, so many things.

So properly arranged, so mannered, so bloody unbelievable.

I could feel myself literally swelling up with pride thinking;

"Hey, this dead town still has some life to it"

I bought a piping kit *to make cupcakes* and some other rubbish that swindled more money from me.

We *Dora, Farah, Baby, Fira and me* hung out at the bakery, where the annoying waiter kept trying to convince us that he loves us Malaysians.

Ooh, and we had cheesecakes.*Yes, I know I'm suppose to be on a diet, but you shall not deny yourself fruits of God's miracles! :P*

The place reminds me of Carrefour, the one I use to go to in Wangsa Maju when I was younger. The place where I would scramble to find a baju kurung for Eid cause my mum forgot to send the cloth to the tailor. Good times :)

But seriously...

This is a good step for you Mansoura.

More progress leads to a better global recognition of this small but educationally potent town.

Hopefully one day, we'll come back, old and cracked, to the land of Mansoura...

To see a small, glimmering neon light in green that says.

Pelita Nasi Kandar.

Murder or Martyrdom?

2009-11-07T14:34:00.000-08:00

This is what the media (the one that claims to be the alternative media who broadcasts the real news, the non biased "truth") has been promoting for the past God-knows-how-long...

We should counter non-Muslims in the most violent ways possible, kill them or force convert them so that we can eliminate the non-believers and create a utopia of a violent, sexist, anti secularist.

Groups like the Taliban and Jemaah Islamiyah are Islamic movements that defend the foundation of Islam, shielding it from all Zionist movements that threaten the growth of Islam.

Noordin Mat Top, Saddam Hussein and Mohamed Atta were martyrs for willing to die in the name of Islam, to celebrated and honoured as jihadist.

Oh
My
GOD...

Seriously?

One friend was trying justify the actions of the recently deceased Nordin Mat Top just the other day.

"No, what he did was right. He really wanted to kill the non-believers and the ones who have defiled Islam. Sacrifices must be made to do the right thing"

Religion is very sensitive subject, but I really must have my say.

I am a very open person.
You can directly insult me...
And I'll let you have your say cause this is a free world, and what you say, your thoughts are the product of your upbringing and influence.
Denying you that right of expression would be infringing the very right of free speech.

But it's my right as well to have a point of view that is...

I've never heard such bullshit in my life.

Like an excerpt from the The Kite Runner,

"When you kill a man, you steal a life. You steal a wife's right to a husband, rob his children of a father"

There is no reason, absolutely no reason to kill a person, for your own intentions.

You might be disilllusioned by a purer belief and delude others with this so-called genuine motive of yours.

You kill, you destroy and you spread destruction among others and expect for your message of peace and enlightenment to be spread?

When you kill others, innocent bystanders, mothers of now orphan children, fathers of a now turmoiled families, and offsprings of now grieving parents, you contradict the basis of this religion who's main message is about unity, harmony and tranquility.

We are so obsessed with "showing the world what we're made of" and "proving our mettle to the West" that we forget the intention of Islam.

Jihad or al-jihad fi sabil Allah (striving in the way of Allah) has been so misconstrued that when people hear Jihad, it strikes a fear in their hearts that takes ages, decades and even centuries to diminish.

Jihad has evoked the image of war, bloodshed, sorrow, grief, anger and hate. Islamophobia is a disease that we ourselves have unintentionally spread with our blatant of use of fear and violence to spread our message.

Action always speaks louder than words, even if you scream Allahu Akhbar or Bismillah over and over again, it is what you do that will be etched in the memory of the world, the cries of innocents, the scars of unhealable wounds, and streams of tears that seem to flow endlessly.

And will anybody remember why you did it?

Of course not.

Like the recent shooting at Fort Hood in Killeen,Texas, perpetrated by a Army doctor, Major Nidal Malik Hasan, a devout Muslim, and allegedly shouted Allahu Akhbar before going on a shooting rampage.

Sometimes, I really am worried about the stupidity of people nowadays.

Here is a man who obviously is very educated, very aware about the prejudice and stigma of being a Muslim in the US and probably hurt the efforts of every other anti-defamation group for the last... millenium?

I do not in any right condone the horrific murders also being committed by Israelites, the massacring of Palestinians or the unlawful killings of Iraq's Shia' population.

But that's just because I do not condone killing. Be it by the Muslims, the Jews, the Christians, etc.

I really hope peace talks between any warring parties will commence as soon as possible because it'll I really cannot bear anymore watching little kids crying and wandering aimlessly, staring upon their dead mothers, then only to be silenced by a stray bullet to the head.

God help us all.

Scholarship Woes.

2009-11-05T10:42:00.000-08:00

I arrived to class the other day to this.

"Have you checked your JPA results? I didn't get it"

I fumbled and scoured for my phone, went online, entered my IC number and pressed enter...

A few heartwrenching seconds later...

"Oleh kerana persaingan yang sengit dan bilangan peruntukan yang terhad, dimaklumkan bahawa permohonan saudara/i tidak berjaya."

My initial reaction was probably, shock.

Yes, I didn't get the highest of marks... but I'm still Malaysian.

I'm still a candidate to receive the scholarship.

Granted, MARA has now closed its doors to new applicants and the only choice left is the JPA scholarship, but it still hit as hard, like I failed every exam that I sat for, like all my efforts went down he drain the moment those words registered in my brain

The most mindboggling part is that, other people, more deserving people, also failed to receive the scholarship. (Mythbuster style ;) )

a) Not good enough marks? (debunked cause the mumtaz girl in our class also didn't get it)

b) Not qualified financially?(also debunked cause a guy who's parents are blue collared workers)

c) We live in KL (plausible... half the people who got it did live in KL including the mumtaz girl)

d) I went to a private school (plausible, the mumtaz girl... she was from a private school as well before going to MRSM)

e) We didn't go to a boarding school (debunked, cause another fellow failure went to a prestigious all girl's boarding school in Putrajaya)

So Mr. Malaysian Government, if you're reading this..

Please,

Please tell us what we're doing wrong, so that we can correct ourselves to qualify for a mere dollop of the wealth (which we will eventually have to pay off anyway) that our country is churning.

It's a matter of pride, of financial need and even to a certain extent, filial obligation.

Sex/Promiscuity/Friendship.

2009-10-26T05:22:00.000-07:00

In one of the many-I-should-be-studying-but-yet-I'm-here-utilizing-Facebook/MSN/Youtube/YM moments, I was chatting with my friend back in Malaysia and the topic continued to my friend finding one of her friends had already slept with somebody else.

"Yeah..he screws girls but it doesnt make him less of a friend to me =/"

"I rather not be friends with people who take sex so lightly."

"You can possibly tell me that...you treat your guy friends differently after they'd screwed girls?"

It left a mark on me. I thought about it further. Pondering the question in my mind.

Would I treat them any differently?

Sexual intercourse should always be performed when a woman and a man are already under the sanctity of marriage.

Sure, you can say things like "you're so old fashioned" or "there's no harm in sleeping around" but I will not let the depravity of society these days change the very values our forefathers had fought with blood, sweat and tears to instill.

However, would you, totally on the fact that this person has fornicated, cut off ties with a person?

I come from a background where teenage promiscuity run rampant among our peers. I've seen couples kissing, deflowered virgins, guys boasting about their late night conquests, girls crying after being told that their pregnant, etc.

So, I should be okay with it by now right? This nonchalant attitude towards intimacy?

I still surprise myself by the fact that I'm still not comfortable with it.

Call me narrow minded, conservative, prude, whatever, but at the end of the day, my morals still are as concrete as the day my mum told me about the God's wrath towards adulterers.

My friend recently told me that he wasn't a virgin. He had slept with one of the many whores in his college.

I continued to entertain the whole conversation, laughing and making jokes when secretly, I felt sad that this friend that I trust had decided not the give himself to only one person, the one who he will marry.

Will I treat him differently?

Absolutely not.

Perhaps one of the reason is because I've accepted the fact that he's not a religious person early in the friendship and I already half suspected him of being a person who views sex as a casual activity.

However, it's the least suspecting people, the mummy's boys, the sweethearts, the angelic stereotypes that have imprinted themselves in your mind that will shake the very foundation of what you believe in.

I was also told recently that one my childhood friends had slept with her boyfriend whom she is now no longer with.

This girl was one of the sweetest, most delicate things I've ever known and to imagine her being this carnal lolita between the sheets is simply mindboggling.

I was genuinely disheartened for her, a feeling still lingering until today.

Had I been there, could've I stopped her?

Could've I been a better friend, a better role model?

Friends come and go. It's the things we do that will keep our memory alive among everyone we know. Do we really need them to remember us as the "whore", the "slut", the "player?"

So,

Will I avoid my non virgin friends? No.

Will I love them less? Perhaps.

Will I be hurt by their actions? Most definitely.

Will I pray for these people who have wronged God and themselves?

InsyaAllah.

Sumoh-king.

2009-10-25T03:42:00.000-07:00

I just got back from my presentation today.
The same presentation which had my knees buckled, my palms damp and lower lip quivering.

But it was

... Awesome

I honestly was euphoric after the whole presentation.

It was like waving the flag of victory after a war, like receiving a Nobel prize, like thrusting your hand in the air, declaring freedom for a generation.

Pure elation.

I can't thank my groupmates Muaz (who kept coming late :P) and Dina (who did most of the slides) more.

We did a good job and here's my standing ovation for you.

*stands up and claps*

And thank you to Aizat, Atiq, Azam and Aceng for letting me use your photos.
Everyone got a good kick from it,

You're all celebrities now...

Lagi la laku dengan juniors.

By the way, for those who wonder. First...

No, it's not an made up accent. That's just how I speak.
Sorry for not being very fluent and eloquent. I was rather nervous due to the lack of practice, but I hope my redemption comes from my (gila) expressive face and hand gestures.
Sumoh-king is officially my new favourite word.

Oh, and thank you to Pika and Dora for recording the whole thing

Dora, you did a good job as well, my hat's off to you.

Thank you to all who wished me luck and congratulated me after.
I really appreciate all the kind words.

A warm smile is so hard to get by nowadays.

Now back to the real life, PBL's to complete and notes to copy.

I have a LOT of work. See you all very soon.

Sumoh-King Hot Loves,
Naz.

20 Reasons Why I Love Mansoura.

2009-10-10T01:56:00.000-07:00

I've officially beaten my past record of three weeks NOT updating.

...to A MONTH.

*cheers*

Procrastionation is a very intricate process, filled with thourough thinking and the ability to just sleep for hours.

I applaud myself :).

You know what, I've been concentrating too much on politics, race relations, etc. and I forget what I'm really here for,

PUBLICITY.

or to have fun, that's good too.

To those who might not know, this is my first EVER being away from home, I've never been to a boarding school (cause my parents disallowed me, not because I wasn't qualified, to you snide asses), never been away more than two weeks away from my parents and never done so without calling or texting them.

So being here in Egypt, for nine months, with horrendous internet connection is real challenge for me.

Even though this will be my second year in medical school, the strain of being away from everyone I love, my family, my friends and even my cats... it' still very strong may it be the first year or the last year of university.

However, when looking at the lack of filial presence around me, I've learned to be independent, socially adaptable and .

Back home, I have a maid that waits on me hand and foot.

When I say hand and foot, to the extent of each time I leave my room to go to the bathroom,
I come back and see that the bed's already made.

Bik, kalau baca ni Bik. Tolong bakarkan poster Cristiano Ronaldo saya Bik. ~~Dua-dua~~, Tiga-tiga, yang di frame itu jugak. Tak guna punya Portugis.

Anyway, I was basically a very pampered child with no domestic skills, people skills, speaking skills and was probably the laziest person ever to have made a habitat of the sofa and the television.

I've decided to compile a list of all the the things that I have learned, what I have discovered and what I always look forward to when returning to the ravines of Mansoura.

20 Things Why Being A Student in Mansoura is Awesome

1) We have KFC

A little dry, a no butter bun, or chilli sauce, but chicken is chicken

2) We have a cinema!

That screens only Arab movies but hey, beggars can't be choosers

3) With all the derelict, you appreciate the little things in life

I was excited finding clean clothing today

4) Everything is cheap

5) The abundance of Arab food has forced me to learn how to cook

Yes Future Husband, you don't have to live off Maggie!

6) They have this night boat ride here, where a beat up boat takes a few passengars across the Nile

Pretty neat if you want to see Mansoura with all it's majestic dirt disguised in the dark

7) No nightclubs

So that you can STUDY! ...seriously

8) People are really friendly

..borderline harrassment! :D

9) You have a lot of fodder to laugh about

Arabs are just really funny people and they don't even realize it. For example, they see you and they say "Honga Bonga"

HAHAHAHAHA.

...our country's richer and more advanced than yours.

10) Weddings only take place at night

Cause they enjoy spreading the festivities by honking the night away not care if you have to study for the finals

11) Ruz Bilaban Ammu

Means Uncle's Rice and Milk Pudding. I would literally run from the 5th floor if I hear him coming.

That's how I appreciate my ruz bilaban.

12) Two gineh taxis

Compulsory walking is a thing of the past

13) Cheap medication

Doctors cannot dispense medicine here, so pharmacies are saturated in this area

14) People here knows MALAYSIA but not SINGAPORE!

Victory is OURS!

15) Nobody actually hates Americans

But maybe I'm just in the wrong Arab country

16) Roadside snacks are the size of a normal Malaysian meal

They're just really large people

17) The eclectic fashion

Let's just say there won't be a Mansoura Fashion Week anytime soon

18) They still sell sugar cane juice during hot days

Reminds of me the days when Mr. Yap would give us sugar cane sticks to bite on during primary school

19) Everyone is just so beautiful

Mansoura specifically had a very high Italian and French population back in the day. Most girls here have green eyes and blonde hair... but it's covered by their hijab of course

20) Malaysians... memang laku!

Despite how you look like, they have this weird fetish/obsession with Malaysian girls.

Believe me, you will get hit on.

That's all I have. I guess I have the most material to write when I'm digressing from studying.

See, one procrastinating sessions leads to awesome blog material.

See ya on another procrastination laden time.

Love,

Naz. <3

Nazeera's Guide to Ignorance and Stupidity.

2009-09-07T11:35:00.000-07:00

Hello,

If you had attended the protest at Seksyen 22 Shah Alam, you've come to the right place.

This is a special post is dedicated to the very essense that leads to the destruction of everything mankinds holds near and dear.

Ignorance and Stupidity.

I will be writing a step by step guide on how to become an elite group of pure idiocracy and insensitivity.

Now, you silly protestors, read closely and slowly, I'm scared you might lose your way through my eloquent words.

There's no shame in reading it twice... or another twenty times.

We're not judgemental like you :).

Nazeera's Official Guide to

Ignorance

and

Stupidity

Step 1.

Take a cow's ( means LEMBU, if I'm going too fast, do read it again) head as shown and sever it off.

You can purchase one at your local market for few ringgit and you can save one after Raya Korban.

Warning, the latter might accumulate some rather interesting smells and textures after being kept for so long.

Step 2.

Find an issue that has NOTHING to do with you.

Nothing at all.

I'll give you an example, let's say...

The building of a Hindu temple in a Malay populated area.

But hey, that's just my suggestion.

Step 3.

Express yourself. Go crazy. Let yourself go.

Hey, forget about human rights!

Oh, just kick "racial sensitivity" the curb,

Tell yourself "SCREW ALL THE EFFORT WE MADE TO MEND RACIAL RELATIONS",

Keep on shouting "KAMI CABAR *insert name of who's causing you all this distress*

.......

Oh, and of course.

Spit and kick the cow's head you had oh-so-diligently brought :).

Step 4.

March down a populated road to show that you are taking a stand for this thing that you are so passionate about.

Call the media, what's a protest without a little attention eh?

State to them your purpose of having this protest*which again has NOTHING to do with you and will not bother you in any way possible*

And blame your insolence and anguish on the MP's in your area.

Cause hey, they didn't do what you wanted them for you, right Your Majesty?

Step 5.

...And if the media starts asking questions like

"Kenapa bawak kepala lembu ini?"..

Deny, deny, DENY!

But hey, it's not YOUR fault. Right?

I mean...

The big bad government people had to built a place of worship for another religion and despite the incessant complaints we have filed, they're still not budging.

Desperate times calls for desperate measures right?

Blame them! Never admit guilt!

Cause you know, you guys are just normal people protesting with a cow's head with obvious knowledge that the cow's a sacred animal to the Hindus.

But again, not your fault :).

Step 6.

Watch the country crumbling down slowly into an oblivion of derelict and disaster.

...................................................

That is all.

Hope you enjoyed the step by step guide to IGNORANCE and STUPIDITY.

I shall stop here.

No need to unnecessarily exhaust the brains for the transformed followers of these steps :)

Money.

2009-08-20T07:50:00.000-07:00

Does money really rule the world?

Let's investigate this question thoroughly shall we?

Why is Kim Kardashian/Paris Hilton famous?
What is it that makes our lips quiver with awe and admiration when we utter names like Lakshmi Mittal and Warren Buffett?
What makes Steve Jobs and Bill Gates such venerated figures that will leave an impression on the history of pop culture itself?

One word of course,

Money *and maybe a sex tape or two*

Since it's inception, money has been both beneficial and destructive for humankind.
Empires have been built and incinerated, economies plummeted into oblivion, filial ties torn just because of money.

People can be manipulated, bribed and silenced with money.

It is the very essence of our being, the significance of this world itself and sometimes even the only reason why people tolerate everything else in their godforsaken lives.

Money.

It's a common belief that when a person has money, he or she *trying to gender neutral here :)* deserves respect and adoration.

As the common rule has implied:

He who has the gold makes the rules.

We're now living in a world where a man's merits is not judged from his character but from the weight of his pockets.

It's a shame how a poor man is mocked for his poverty and a rich man is revered for his wealth regardless of his tactless behaviour when having that immense wealth.

Power brought on by wealth is a volatile one, people are under the illusion that with power and wealth, they pretty much can do whatever they want, despite however reckless he or her actions may be.

Money has even made it possible for extra-marital affairs to be somewhat excusable to the public.

"Probably the wife's not doing her job well, the whore"
"He's/she's working so hard, let him be"
"He's/she's already providing a lot for the family"

*I might be slightly bias about this one cause I think there's no acceptable reason for cheating on your spouse. None whatsoever.*

But honestly, I do not blame not even one of these people for acting the way they do.

Why?

Because it's us as a society that has popularized the perception that it's acceptable and permissible for anyone to treat us any way they wish if that person has cash in their wallet.

It's us, the yes mans, who have further nurtured their condescending behaviour, their cantankerous ways and their oppressive approach to others.

We fear their power, their money, when it's us that has brought this tragic calamity upon ourselves.

What if one day, we just stop?

Stop putting these rich yet antagonistic creatures on a pedestal so high up that you can hear God sighing with dejection.

Stop admiring these so called magniloquent tycoons when they parade their new flashy cars and another inane jewelry on their pampered fingers.

Stop tolerating all their nonsense and just tell them how it is, and live with the dire consequence that might follow.

Respect and admire those who deserve it, and not those who have bought it.

Till then, money will always be our ruler, our king, our religion, our God with the elusive promise that one day, it could be enough to keep us happy for the rest out our lives.

Al-Fatiha.

2009-07-25T11:33:00.000-07:00

Like grinded pebbles in the wind, you flew through our clutches before we savoured you between our skin.

Yasmin Ahmad dies

2009/07/25

Bernama

KUALA LUMPUR: Renowned film and advertising director Yasmin Ahmad died here at about 11.25pm on Saturday night.

Her death was confirmed by Media Prime Group Chief Operations Officer Datuk Seri Ahmad Farid Ridzuan, who was at the Damansara Specialists Hospital, when contacted by Bernama.

Yasmin, 51, collapsed while presenting a working paper at Sri Pentas, the headquarters of the private television station TV3 on Thursday and was rushed to the Damansara Specialists Hospital.

She was reported to have suffered a stroke and brain haemorrhage.

You were a genius, a role model and inspiration to us all.

We will all miss you.

Rest In Peace, Yasmin Ahmad.

Inna lillahi wa inna ilahi raji'un

and

Al Fatihah.

Yasmin Ahmad, brilliance manifested.

2009-07-24T04:51:00.000-07:00

This is a somewhat personal plea from me.

Whatever faith you may embrace, whatever religious background you may come from or whatever belief of a higher power that you engage in...

Please say a prayer for the genius that our country is on the verge of losing...

Yasmin Ahmad.

If you do not know who she, why is she famous and what happened to her...

Somebody's been living under a very heavy, dark, isolated and media-disregarded rock.

Yasmin Ahmad is a famed director who has directed many racially-themed movies and a plethora of adverts that have both touched us and made us laugh.

Some of her films include, Sepet, Gubra, Mukhsin, and the latest film that was released early this year, Talentime.

Her movies might not have grossed much in the box office but it never failed to draw both accolades and criticism at the same time.

Yasmin Ahmad has never failed to ignite controversy with almost all her movies. I remember reading in the newspaper about how her sophomore film, Sepet was publicly condemned because it showed partial nudity (Hariz Iskandar in his underwear) and skin contact (Jason touches Orked's calf) between the two leads. In conservative Malaysia, that's enough to create a ruckus among the censorship committee. Their dislike for her got to the point of cinemas refusing to sell tickets to her movies or telling potential viewers that they're sold out.

We're a nation of pure, unadulterated vindication.

But it's her advertisements that have made me an admirer of her brilliance and wit.

She's employed at the coveted Leo Burnett advertising company as an executive creative director, a company notorious for the accusations of being racist towards Malays or bumiputeras.
Every year, Yasmin Ahmad and her team will create adverts for PETRONAS for every national celebration, may it be Hari Raya, Chinese New Year, Deepavaali or National Day.

These are a few of my favourite ads from her.

Funeral
(for Singapore television)
*woohoo, go interracial lovin'*

Deepavali
*I know Indians were offended... but it's pretty funny*

Chinese New Year
*Even my Chinese friends said..typical*

Merdeka
*My absolute favourite*

Breathtaking... right?

Yasmin Ahmad suffered a massive stroke and is admitted in Damansara Medical Centre after an emergency brain surgery yesterday to relieve the brain of pressure and to stop the bleeding in the brain.

Everyone please pray for her well being.

It's the least we can do for a person who has made the effort to promote racial and cultural harmony, reminding us our Malaysian identity, bringing us close together as a nation when everything else is tearing us apart.

God bless Yasmin Ahmad and I hopethat you will voyage through this trying time to once again prove to us that we are not as divided as our politics suggest. *Barack Obama :)*

Picture Time.

2009-07-13T10:00:00.001-07:00

I've had the SLR camera for a bout a week now.
And yet...

I haven't posted any of the pictures that I took.

Facebook lain cite la.

Well, let me bring out my bragging guns :)

It's eel sushi.

E'a obviously not paying attention during the meeting

FatBoy :)

Baskin Robbins Ice Cream Fondue (with Keshinn at the back :D)

Four for now.

Cause....

I'm feeling lazy :)

The Rainbow Army :)

2009-07-04T02:07:00.000-07:00

I'm not one to publicize a movie, they have people called *publicists* for that.

It all started when I suddenly remembered somebody said this to me

"Kau cari filem Laskar Pelangi, tengok puas-puas. Wajib untuk kau"

So I tried EVERYTHING to find the movie; Limewire, 4shared *err, I do not condone illegal downloading, in the unlikely case of the police reading this* Google, Yahoo, MSN.

And I found it finally in the last place you would watch a movie...

YouTube :)

So I found the movie, and it was broken down into 12 parts.

So I watched it, with all expectations of it being a complete and utter bore with the main theme about a group of poor kids *the rags gave it away* who finally find success after "persevering" and "working hard"

Okay, I'm gonna drop bits and pieces of the movie right now, so if you want to watch the movie without knowing the spoilers, don't continue reading.

Reasons Why the Laskar Pelangi DVD Should Be Bought

*cause free downloading is illegal :)*

It depicts interracial love between a Chinese girl and an Indonesian boy. The main character Ikal falls in love with one of his classmates's cousin named Ai Ling after he saw her hand *and eventually her face and smile* handing him a box of chalks.
The film showcases real teachers with real dedication and makes you momentarily forget the phrase "I'm in it for the money"
You'll realize the importance of an education, and how some people are willing to scramble through life just to get an ounce of knowledge most of us take for granted.
It's somewhat nationalistic especially if you come from a country which is monopolized by the goverment that results in the stagnant state of the nation.
You really can reach your true potential with the right attitude, the right amount of effort and insyaAllah, a little luck
It reminds me of my own childhood, mainly revolving around fear of authority
Oh, and I have not cried over a movie in LONG time. When the character Lintang had to leave school and when Ikal told him he was going to Sorbonne, I literally squealed while crying.

So yeah, thanks for recommending to me in the first place. Even Ada Apa Dengan Cinta can't beat this.

Even if the movie is about ever-cliched hard work and perseverence, it's such a wonderful, colour-enriched movie filled with puppy love, friendship, ambition, poverty, social status, determination and of course...

Hope.

Holier than Thou.

2009-06-29T18:07:00.001-07:00

It's 4 am and here I am blogging...

Argh, insomnia really is kicking in each day since I left for Malaysia from Egypt couple days back.

Oh, and I've been bored crapless.

Something exciting better happen in the next few days, or I'll blow my brains out.

I guess this is the curse of a medical student...

Underneath that studious exterior, if you take away all the books, all the late-nights, all the study notes and all the lectures, you're left with a sad little*okay maybe not little* girl, who has no purpose in life but to be engulfed by suffocating boredom.

Basically, I can't wait for class to start again.

On another note,

I have something to share with my readers...

As many may know, I've decided to wear the hijab or more colloquailly known as the tudung full time now, and insyaAllah, it'll stay that way.

I've changed I guess, and I thank God I've finally found my time, my so-called calling, my hidayah :).

However, there are still people who have not adhered to this mandatory Islamic requirement and I respect that.

I respect that everybody are at their own pace to self discovery. Some are faster than others while some are late bloomers.

Whatever.

As long as their goal is the same that is:

Self discovery.

What I absolutely, utterly, totally, completely cannot stand is the narcissistic nature of being holier than thou.

I swear, that kind of mind set will KILL a religion.

Baby recently complained about an incident that happened in Nusantara *an Indonesian restaurant near our house in Mansoura* where she and Shabby were practically publicly humiliated by a group of so called ustazs/unwanted Islamic social reformers.

Okay, Shabby doesn't wear a tudung.

So what?

Does that give you the right to get on your high horse, take out your moral compass and say crap like...

"Awak rase awak mati macam mane?"

"Api neraka dah membara-bara menunggu sebab gambar kat Facebook tak pakai tudung"

Eh, tolong sikit okay.

I'm so sick and tired of these so called "pembasmi maksiat" troopers that go around telling girls who don't wear the hijab that they are going to hell.

Who on earth are you to tell us what God thinks of us?

If they don't wear the tudung and is aware that it is a sin, that's their problem.

They don't need ne'er-do-wells like you to preach about responsibilities they already know about.

I mean, I can honestly say I've met a few people out there who try to preach religion to the world WITHOUT being exceedingly annoying or aggravating.

You wear a hijab/niqab/burqa/taqiyah, you pray excessively, you make countless trips to the mosque and yet you backbite and gossip about the sinners and hell-goers.

Excuse me?

O you who believe! Avoid much suspicion, in deeds some suspicions are sins. And spy not neither backbite one another. Would one of you like to eat the flesh of his dead brother? You would hate it (so hate backbiting). And fear God, verily, God is the one who accepts repentance, Most Merciful. (49: 12)

Yes, I know my Quran too.

So please,

If you don't know how to convey your message to others tactfully, don't.

If not, people will just start losing faith, in you, in society, in humanity and basically life itself.

You might have the holiest of objectives, but how you convey it matters.

What you think you're doing is preaching but in truth, it's public mortification, destroying the pride of the others and making others even more hateful of this religion...

...The road to hell is paved with good intentions...

2009-06-25T10:56:00.000-07:00

Here they are.

Pictures.

I know my blog majorly lack photos.

But have no fear fellow citizens of No-Life land.

They have come to complete your mundane lives...

First Cairo Trip

Fikri... sleeping.

I asked "Hey Fik, you don't mind me putting up a picture of you sleeping right?"

He replied "Go ahead, I don't care. I'm sure I look godly good"

Here you go Mr. Humility.

Dora :).

And Sabar... with her, what Farah calls, "penyanyi buta" sunglasses.

Miss Dutch herself.

Toilet whoring.

HAHAHA.

Enough said.

We stayed at ARMA (Asrama Malaysia) and one of the rooms caught fire.
Yes, we were calm enough to even take a shower first before going down.

Waiting for our 15 gineh shawarma

Baba gatal.

Farah showing a little skin for Baba :)

Merempat di jalan.

Maalish, ana mafish fakah :)

...Second Cairo trip pictures coming REAL soon...

Soon :)

2009-06-20T04:24:00.000-07:00

Betrayal

Anger

Destruction

Lust

Fatigue

Cairo, the place of mysteries. *pffft, overexaggerating much? *

The cable for the camera is in the *new* house, so I'll put up pictures from the Cairo trip very very soon.

I literally was temporarily disabled from carrying the things I bought from Khan El Khalili.

It is Heaven

Friggin' paradise.

I'm not much of a shopper, but even I finished a whopping LE *an-amount-that-I-shall-not-disclose-due-to-the-nagging-I-might-receive-when-I-get-home-to-Malaysia*.

More to come when the pictures are up.

See ya.

Women.

2009-06-10T16:57:00.000-07:00

A burden they say,
As we hold our feminine eyes above the others,
Harlots! Oh, you modern jezebel,
We lower our gaze to meet the tattered pavement.

Thy race is inferior, nothing but slaves!
As they burn their stares into the nape of our necks,
Our meagre fingers clutch the baskets that speak our existence,
To thy husband you shall return.

Idiot! Return and take care of thy children,
As we crawl back into the haven of our homes,
To be met by rage and fury unbounded,
With his hands clasping a whip.

Weak! Pathetic little scamp,
We caress our wounds, a mere whisper of a breath,
Tears cloud our eyes, to flow in seeds of pain,
Tender slurs begin to envelope our thoughts.

Hush, little women,
Do not surrender this strength,
For what is a woman?
Thy not a walking brothel,
Nor thy ought to be barraged by slander,

Thy not a temptress of the night,

Nor thy a mule to be lashed at every step.

For thou are angels,
With beauty so ethereal,
For thou are mysteries,
To be ravaged by the imagination,
For thou are warriors,
With hearts that could engulf the sun.

For thou are women,
Maidens of heaven.

by Nazeera Nasir

This poem is dedicated to all the impoverished, abused women of the world. Being here in Egypt makes me realize that women are different all over the world, some are treated like malikas of the house while some are treated by slaves of the night. It is a shame really, the lack of education, the egoistic traits of a so called masculinity and the blind faith that we follow that teaches us it's okay to abuse.

There are still societies that deem it acceptable to physically raise your hand to your wife, beating her senseless until her blood trickles from her orifices. Where to see marks on a woman's face is almost a norm, bludgeoned by god-knows what.

Sickening?

No...

It's just plain revolting.

...and you call yourselves civilized...

Dear Future Husband.

2009-06-09T10:27:00.000-07:00

Dear Future Husband,

As of today, I'm an 18 year old girl with limited housework experience and with a less than idealistic physical appearance. I'm immature, intolerant, borderline ignorant and very headstrong. But all that will change. I will learn, awaiting to be taught, to be led by you, oh future husband.

All I want to do right now is return to my parents, To be by their side, sharing the joy of the world, laughing and joking with our intimate little family. These are the parents who one day I will leave to be with you, oh darling husband. And when I want to visit them, I will do this only with your consent. And I beg of you, please future husband, to let me meet my parents as much as I can.

As for my friends, these are the people I grew up with, dear future husband. Even thinking of them right now, my heart wrenches with so much emptiness. Since I have no siblings of my own, these are the people who are my brothers and sisters, my other kin. So spending time with them, to reminisce about the life we explored with each other would bring so much meaning to me. But as usual, I will do this only with your consent.

I grew up in a modern society, a society that permits women pursue an education, a career, a life where they can meet end's meet. My hope is that in my current pursuit of an education, you would allow me to work, for it is my dream to practice medicine, to help others and to aid the sick. If my mother could do it, and the other hundreds of women who juggle both career and family, I believe strongly that I too can do it. But only with your consent

But all this tolerance will not be in vain, oh future husband. I promise to be an examplery wife, who will dote on our children, who will carry your burdens. I will listen to to you, your tribulations, and relieve the ordeals that life will try to throw at you. I might not afford to wait on you hand and foot, but at least I will try to ease every bitter taste that life might leave in your mouth.

I will love you as if time stood still, just waiting for us. I will remain faithful as long you too are faithful. You shall be my priority, even if I will still be your second. Our children will learn your philosophies and bear your name.

But only with your consent.

Love,
Nazeera Nasir.
Your future wife.

P.S
Don't worry Daddy. I don't want to get married now. I was in the mood to be all Khaled Hosseini, with marriage, love and religion to be in the mix. And exam's over, so yeah... I'm bored.

Tagged.again.

2009-06-08T08:05:00.001-07:00

1) Copy the award above and paste it on your blog

2) Name 5 interesting facts about the presenter of this award

One of his eyebrows is partially bald due to a scar. Gile rock.
He has never had Chinese/Indian/Non-Malay friends. I’m his half first :D
His mum is of Minang heritage, I think. We’ll create an army.
He once abandoned me mid conversation cause he said I was being too girly. Kurang ajar tak?
He likes Adam Lambert’s gay voice.

3)Every blogger has to name 10 facts/hobbies about themselves.
My mum wanted to name me something like Melor or something that continues the Minang heritage. Yerrrr, kampong
I speak fluent Bahasa Negeri Sembilan. “Napo, tak cayo? Ekau ingat eden ni pemongak?”
I play a little guitar. Mainly chords, and some cool strumming patterns.
Oh, I’m half Chinese.
I’ve been writing poetry since I was nine.
My favourite movie is Forrest Gump. I feel bad the prematurely balding Tom Hanks.
I’ve once accidentally dyed my hair BRIGHT PINK. Yes, I looked like a less-than-attractive second rate Japanese popstar.
I sing. Sometimes I even record myself. And yet, I don't let anybody hear them
My favourite book: A Thousand Splendid Suns.
I have a really mean sarcastic streak. I’m sorry for those who got hurt, but it comes naturally. Really, it does.
I intend to learn French one day.

4)You have to choose 10 award recipients and give a small description about them.
Yuya – housemate kanak-kanak riang.
John – school friend since form 1. We bonded over our sarcasm.
Anwar – I met him at Forensics. Seriously, fcking funny.
Najwa – Ms Fedora :). Awesome curls, jealousssss.
Eli – Fellow Adam Lambert enthusiast. He’s still gay Eli, sorry.
Wanie – ORANG NOGORI GAK :)
Fatin – Group mate semester 1
Dora – Wohoo, groupmate/tuitionmate semester 2. Ducky.
Jia Min – Cheapskate future dentist!
Akashah – user or Tumblr. You loser :P

Sorry for translating it from Malay to English. I just thought some things did not translate well, like being cynical :)

Thank you :)

2009-06-06T15:00:00.000-07:00

A girl came up to me today and said this:

"Hey, I bace blog you"

.
My chest swelled with pride, as I chastised her,

"Alaa, takde ape pun nak bace"

I then smiled and thanked her.

It was one of those sincere thanks like the one you give your mum when she gives you a kiss goodbye.

I want to say this to all the readers, whether you know me or not, whether visiting this blog is a routine for you or something just to fill the time while the sakhonah (water heater) heats up...

I wanna say,

Thanks. A lot.

It means the world to me that my words, my thoughts, my rants are read and understood by somebody else, even if they will amount to nothing but just a simple snicker.

What I say may not be the most thought-provoking, philosophical and articulate banter you might hear but just remember that my intentions are always true and my words are never for slander.

My blog is just an expression of the bits and pieces of my life that I want to share with the world, *or at least Mansoura :)*

So once again, thanks.

If there is anything you want to tell me something about what I write, feel free to ask me anything when you see me anywhere.

Really, I would seriously appreciate it :)

Drained.

2009-06-04T10:36:00.000-07:00

It's been a whirlwind.

An utter whirlwind.

I've downed Red Bull, beef soup, stale lemon biscuits, pre packed pasta and lots and lots of water.

I went on a record 9 hour study marathon.

I've blasted Adam Lambert, Counting Crows, U2, Lifehouse and Sean Paul into my ears.

I've baked under the scorching sun.

I've sat for an exam that could determine my future either as a doctor or a medical school dropout.

A lot to swallow in a day, don't you think?

I'm tired. Really, I am.

I'm drained from all the studying, the pressure, the lack of sleep.
*seriously, they were NOT kidding when they say a doctor's free time is spent on sleep*

I think I've gotten uglier too.
*Laugh, and I'll beat you*

OSCE's next.

All those jars, the formalin and the heat is not the best combination to be shoved to me right now.

If I vomit, faint or simply die,
somebody help me sue.

I miss home, so very much.

I miss my cats.
I miss my bed.
I miss my friends.
I miss my *already sold* car
I miss my driver who's name I always seem to forget *I saved his name in my phone as The Driver, so yeah :)*

And I miss these people:

The one on the right gave birth to me on the 2nd of August, via Caesarean, which she said was because due to the size of the baby. Pffft! She said it hurt like crap. So yeah, thanks :). Oh, she has a name, Dr Zaimah Abu Bakar.

The one on the left is also known as my bank, my treasurer, my money maker, my money printer and other euphemisms that involve me leeching off him. One awful mouth, seriously.
Once called my mum and her three friends Desperate Housewives.
In their faces!
Oh yeah, people call him Mr Nasir or Captain Nasir. But some call him "Shit, mane nak lari?"

I'm so glad I didn't inherit ANY of that bad mouth gene eh?

Argh, all this missing crap is killing me.

Please let all this be over soon so that I can get break more rules in

Kuala Lumpur

Baby's Aboard.

2009-05-23T14:58:00.000-07:00

This is why I need to get

Hot.

....real soon...

OMG.
OH MY GOD.
YA ALLAH!

Isn't that the most ADORABLE thing you've EVER seen?

I was going to the toilet the other day and then saw all the commotion that was happening in Pika's room

"Eee, kenape anak aku gelap ni?"

"Eh, jangan tunjuk sape-sape, muke die sebijik macam bapak die"

So me being the curious, inquisitive and kepoh person I am, I walked in and asked what was going on.

Apparently, they found a link where you can generate a picture of a baby using your face and another partner.
Yeah, they got the link from Bai's status on YM.
MasyaAllah Bai, isu-isu anak ni selalunya menjadi topik untuk wanita. Tak pela, stress belajar kan :P.

Anyway,
I did mine and this was the result.
And it's a boy :D

At this point, all I want is a baby.

But thinking about how I'm only 19

How I still haven't finished my studies.

And how I don't want to be labelled as menggatal

I'll wait for awhile *and to get hot :D, get married and have a baby the HALAL way :D*

I bet you're all thinking...

WHO'S THE DADDY?

Haha...

I'm-not-gonna-tell-you-ever :)

I hate exams.

2009-05-20T05:16:00.000-07:00

OSCE exams are a b**ch.

Today, we finally broke free from all the ~~procrastination~~, ~~laziness~~ unfortunate circumstances we've been in and went to the university to look at

JARS

*filled with human organs, cringe-worthy formalin and shredding muscles*

Anyway...
Yeah, we (Picka and I, there's no more Faisal in the picture *sob sob*) along with Fikri and his friend from Medic Mesir *who's name I seem to forget, sorry* met up at the university to study the jars.

I was COMPLETELY blank when it came to the lower limb jars.

Oh,how I hate thy feet muscles

Argh, it's no it's totally difficult, but there's just so many muscles, so many origins, so many insertions and so much of me

not giving a crap...

But as long as I pass, and come home...
and get my SLR CAMERA* take note of this oh-dear-parents-who-said-they-would-not-read-my-blog-but-I-know-too-well-that-you're-lying*

I'll be happy.

Hotttttttttttttttt.

2009-05-18T05:37:00.000-07:00

It's getting SCORCHING hot.

It literally hurts to be under the sun.

I'm waiting for bathroom to be free so that I can take a shower.

The sun's not the worst thing.

It's the smell.

And no, it's not the donkeys...

It's the PEOPLE.

Seriously..

They have a unique blend of the foulest stench you can ever imagine of...

Think cheese, think feet, think rotting corpse.

All that with a splash of damp, soiled pit stains.

Yes, if you smell that from a mile away...

Welcome to Mansoura :)

Exams.

2009-05-17T00:40:00.001-07:00

'Tis the morning before I'm going to library to study.

Finals are in two weeks.

Yeah two.

Ooh, saying that I'm scared is a total understatement.

To say I'm SCARED LIKE HELL probably would be more appropriate.

I'm struggling over Lower Limb, like really struggling and I wanna slap the next person who says

"HEY, LOWER LIMB'S EASIER THAN UPPER LIMB"

Pfft.

Like hell it is.

I have lots to cover and everything in my life right now being in shambles does not help.

On another note...

A few people have been asking me about my last post.

"I don't want you to turn into a religious fanatic"
"I don't think you can tahan wearing the tudung"
"So you're gonna change?"

You know what...

It is a change, but it's a good change

You know what, it's time I take control of my life and prove that my faith has not been lost in a society where social immoralities is a norm overlooked by many.

I'll still be the same me...

Still sarcastic, unafraid to make funny faces in public and an expert in insulting people in the most subtle ways.

Just covered.

Hypocrisy

2009-05-15T05:58:00.000-07:00

I really need to get this off my chest.

I have been a hypocrite.

Wearing the hijab when I actually don't
Acting reserved when I'm actually not.
Saying "Allahu Akhbar" instead of my much preffered expression of "OMFG!"

I'm not the demure, sweet and yes-sir type of girl.
Oh no, I'm far from that.
I'm loud, infectious, bubbly, an extrovert, argumentative, sarcastic and basically very very carefree.
I went to a school where religion was not placed as a top priority and that was a life I led for almost ten years.
I've been to concerts but never to religious sermons
I've listened to music but never to nasheeds.
I've showed off my hair and never tried to cover it.
I've called scantily clad women fashionable and fully covered women out of touch.
I've called myself a Muslim and yet I've proved to others otherwise.

I went to a religious class today, held by Ustaz Salman
I was drowsy.
Wait, scratch that.
Make that very drowsy.
Yes, I was very drowsy when I attended the class.
The topics for the day were

'people we are forbidden to marry' and 'prayers during syawal'

I barely stayed awake.
Seriously.

BARELY.

There was a group prayer afterwards, where Ustaz Salman had tried to tell us what if Nabi Muhammad does not recognize us on the Day of Judgement.

This was a man who recognizes all his followers, whether dead or alive

So imagine this, what if, on the Day of Judgement, Nabi Muhammad (PBUH) does not recognize us, supposedly a follower and fellow Muslim.

What is going to happen to us then?

Everybody was in tears, somer tried hard to control any falling drops.

I FELL ASLEEP

Everybody was bawling their eyes out and yet, I sat there quietly.

SLEEPING.

God, I mean

Seriously?

How shallow can I be to fall asleep at time where we are suppose to be thinking of God, of our religion, the only thing that should matter in this life?

For the first time in my life, I felt ashamed for not fulfilling my duties as a Muslim. And it was a simple act, an innocent act of giving in into your needs and yet guilt engulfed like waves of an ocean.

I'm trying, really I am.

I've decided to wear the hijab even if I get back.
I'm ready to face the shock, the fear and God forbid,
The ridicule...
Every journey begins with a single step...
And I better take my first step soon.

He's gone...

2009-05-14T06:49:00.000-07:00

He's gone.

From Block A
From Sharie' Rabie'
From Mansoura
From Egypt...

For good.

Faisal pushed off to Cairo at around 11.00 am today and will be heading home to Malaysia tomorrow.

Seriously, it killed me watching that car drive away. Feelings were mixed, mostly sadness but also a little anger, some happiness and bit of hopelessness.

I remember the first day I met Cai, he was our groupmate and he came back with us one day (with pika and I).

My first thoughts were...

"Why is this guy following us?"

Haha, I asked Cai once what was his first impression of me and he said.

"What, are you too rich to talk to me or something?"

Idiot.

Yeah, apparently, I was snobbish to everyone I first meet. Sorry, but that's just me.

I'm really nice.

Really, I am :).

I wrote a letter to Cai, and I think the other girls did too.

Well, was like two pages... it was LONG, HANDWRITTEN letter okay, and Cai typed his in Microsoft Word.

Again, idiot.

Haha, but still, he kinda guessed I would be all... WTF?

Cause he wrote this in his letter.

"xD yeaahhh it’s an “IT letter”. I know what you’re thinking “koaja, aku tulis surat penat2 die type je”

Don't worry, I still love it.

Even if you used your lame ass "I'm dizzy" excuse.

Just so you know, you used the same excuse when Cook Door at the hospital.

Imagine that, a person with shingles ordering fast food from a HOSPITAL.
He was like

"I'm feeling dizzy... *makes face*... I want...Cook Door"

Ish.

I'll miss these moments Cai. Seriously I will.

I remember one time, there was ikan keli at the mat'am and I was walking infront of yor guys cause I wanted the last one fish and you said

"Takpe, biar dia pergi. Budak kan?"

So, I slowed down to seem a little mature when suddenly

WHOOSH!

You ran past me into the mat'am.

And when I got there, you were holding up the last piece of fish...

You cheated!

And I remember one time, I wanted to just accompany Baby to your house so that you, Baby and Arif can go to souq together and she dragged me along.

Me, with my baby blue pants, no hijab and did not shower followed you guys like a dumbass

With all the Dirasat folk staring at me like I was the Anti-Christ.

Thanks Baby.

Take care Cai.

I'll miss you like mad.
It's be really hard, I'm telling you the truth.
But we'll cope.
There's no way I'm gonna admit defeat.

I'm kiasu that way :)

We really will...

Oh crap.

2009-05-11T17:06:00.000-07:00

I love my new layout.

Just because, I made the thingy above. Take a look :)

On a more solemn note,

This morning, I woke up and saw that I got a message from Faisal. It was sent bout 3 hours before (around 6.15) and it read;

My dad gave me four options:

a) Come back to Malaysia and do medic in Malaysia

b) Come back to Malaysia and change course

c) Come back to Malaysia and prove to him that I can take care of myself and continue again next year.

It stunned me.
Literally.

But we were still in good spirits, cause option C was still an option, and that means we still get to see Faisal again, eventhough he'll be in a different semester.

After visiting Faisal at the hospital where he was diagnosed with typhoid fever (seriously, can you cut him some slack?), Faisal went up with his parents house in Block D while we had lunch in GMN.

About a couple of hours later, Faisal came down, still obviously drowsy from his medication and fever (whopping 41 C, can I get a WTF?).

We sat around Faisal and he asked for a piece of paper. I stared down at him while he started scribbling, him obviously tearing up and me waiting patiently for the news.

He wrote on ...

Take care of each other for now and for the following years nanti because I won't be here

We went on a tear and note-passing frenzy after that.

Imagine that, us not saying anything, just passing notes to Faisal

and crying.

I thought it was HORRIFYING.

I swear I look like a puffer fish right now, but red like a salmon.

Haha, a Salffer fish.

Anyway,

That was what happened. Boys started coming in and out to see Faisal, while the five of us (Baby, Yuya, Pika. Titi and I) were crying like banshees at the back.

We kept on repeating

Who's gonna be our rock after this?

Who's gonna be there when somebody breaks my heart again?

Who's gonna accompany us to Alexandria and Cairo?

We're not gonna need an extra chair anymore...

I'm tearing up while I write this.

Gosh.

All the best to Arif and the boys who's gonna try to persuade his parents to let him stay.

I don't want you to go Faisal...

happy mother's day

2009-05-10T16:57:00.000-07:00

I've read through a couple of blogs and found that many have dedicated an entry to their mothers in conjuction with mothers day.

I would like to think that I think of my mother everyday and not just to comemorate her over some stinking day.

But being the kiasu person that I am, I've decided to do one as well :)

This is my mum (and our annoyed cat)

Her name is Zaimah Abu Bakar, or Dr Zaimah Abu Bakar.
Yeah, first impressions are almost never true.

Anyway, she's 46 and she's a doctor. Again, almost unlikely eh?
She once said to me

"I dunno la girl, I also dunno how I became a doctor"

And when I agree, she gets mad.
Pfft.
Try to be a good daughter and this is what you get.

When I was younger, I liked to hear stories about how she use to travel through Penang in her Kapcai motorcycle during her medical school days, trying out the the stalls in Gurney Drive, going to clubs after exams and movie hopping without paying (yes, USM doctors endorse piracy).

It was the life I wanted for myself.

The stories I loved the most were the ones during her houseman days, where she encountered numerous patients with the most unconventional of diseases and conditions (there was one she had to perform a simple operation on a fellow colleagues brother in law to find out that this patient of hers had enlarging equipment attachment to his penis)

So yeah, awesome or what?

So despite, all her shortcomings

she mispronouces career as carrier, maim as mime, gnome as genome and bestow as best-tau
whatever monetary issues brought to her will be ended with 'go ask your daddy'
she treats my Fatboy like crap and her Bally (pictured above) like a king
she can't stop lecturing me on how I drive, every single time

All I want to say is,

I love you mummy

and I can't wait to come home.

Happy Mother's Day.

Tags Galore!

2009-05-08T18:23:00.000-07:00

Tagged by my housemate, Picka.

It's been such a long time since I've done one of these things.

Anything to digress from studying :)

Name 5 people you can think of right of the top of your head.

Don't read the questions until you write the names of the 5 people.

No cheating please!

Picka

Faisal

Fikri

Baby

Yuya

Reminder : Don't read ahead unless you fill above names first.:

How do you meet 1?

She came to the house, ringing the doorbell incessantly. My choices were either to open the door or shoot through the door with a gun. (for ruining my prayer time :P)

How long have you known 4?

About 8 months, she's my housemate and Jiggle buddy :)

.

How do you know number 3?

It's like knowing the tall, intimidating looking serial killer in your neighbourhood.

Where's 5?

In MY room. Sleeping in MY bed. Underneath MY lihaf while I'm freezing my ass off in the living room. Okay-lah, I'm just not sleepy yet and kinda lazy to get up to get a sweater.

A fact about number 1?

Oh Picka. Hmmm, she's has Siamese blood. We always bring it up when comparing butts.

Like how we've got none.

Who is no 4 going out with?

Right now, it's complicated

Would you live with number 3?

It's okay, I'm scared of being "direjam batu"

What do you like about no 2?

I think somewhat, he's my rock here in Mansoura, besides my housemates. He's always there for support, even if at times I just want to slap him. And he just got back from the hospital... I think there are laws about injuring already sick people.

Do you miss number 5?

She's sleeping in my bed. I should go take advantage of her

Would you make out with number 4?

DID I TELL YOU SHE WANTED TO???

What's your opinion of number 2?

Cai...

He's awesome.

What is your fav memory with number 5?

There was this one time where she was like...

"NAK KENTUT"

and she stepped out of the room, like just outside the room, unleashed her demon.

and stepped back in,

WITHOUT closing the door.

Let's just say, a gas mask would've been perfect at the time.

What would you do if number 1 going out with number 2?

Go ballistic of course. But most probably buy popcorn and enjoy the show of number 2's girlfriend who may look small come hunting down for number 1 :)

How often do you talk to number 1?

Pfft, more like everyday friggin' day. Kalau tak cakap, problematic namanye. That's the job of another housemate :)

Have you ever thought 3 more than a friend?

A sadist... does that make him less or more than a friend?

May be you want to go out for a date with number 5?

No thanks, I enjoy my share of testosterone producers

What did number 4 did to you that you never forget?

There were PLENTY. But one really funny one was when didn't close the door when she went to the toilet *cause she said she was scared that I told too many ghost stories at night* and then, I sneaked a camera into the toilet and took a picture.

Don't worry, all evidence were procededly destroyed.

who do you want to tag :

Baby, Yuya, Pika (I think she did hers already), Fikri, Yana, and whoever who has a blog that's updated regularly :)

PCM has finally taken it's toll on me.

2009-05-08T17:36:00.000-07:00

Reprieve

We carve our mark,

Within the tattered soil,

Within the glimmering stars,

Like ancient footprints upon churned earth,

We mark history,

With dreams of glory,

That will emanate within our midst,

Like flickering amber in a barren oblivion

We pave our path,

Our fingers feebled and limp,

Caressing the thorns of seduction,

And yet lapping the ecstacy of denial

We lift our hands to heaven,

And close our eyes to pray,

And in the darkness of our blindness,

We find a calm, a reprieve so complete.

by Nazeera Nasir

I was feeling rather spiritual today.

This poem is about spirituality actually, leaning towards a power of prayer.

It describes the harshness of humanity, our maturity, our evolution and our constant need to achieve something better for ourselves. All this pressure, even the strongest of man would eventually be subdued by it.

We all should have a place of solace.

Some go on the internet, some blog (yeah, shut up), some even turn to immorality for some comfort from their disdaining life.

But why overlook the power of prayer?

Yes, to talk about religion in this day of age is pretty much social suicide for ANY age group, may you be in your teens or a tobacco spitting 60 year old, religion has always been a taboo subject to talk about.

A moment, even if short, with God is how a prayer should be like.

It's like you're having your own personal time with God and He has created you from scratch, literally from scratch.

or soil...

Whatever...

But He is your Creator nevertheless.

The Man Himself

A prayer, if done with honesty and is fully embodied and embraced,

I can only describe it as...

A calm,

Like when you're floating on air, and not worrying you'll hit the ground

It's beautiful really.

It's almost...

Ecstacy.

He's out :)

2009-05-07T06:29:00.000-07:00

Faisal's been discharged from the hospital.

Today.

Ah, words cannot describe the absolute elation I feel to know that he's finally going to be on his feet in no time.

No more fluid filled vesicles on his face

No more spilled diluted blood on the floor

No more carrying the IV everywhere he goes

and most importantly

NO MORE SCREAMS OF PAIN

The first time I heard Faisal cry out was on the phone. He literally screamed, with all his might, with all torture infused in those cries.

My heart dropped.

Naturally, I thought of the worst case scenarios, cancer, stroke and other crap that pessimistic people are suppose to think.

But when the diagnosis came (after referring to several doctors mind you), it hit me like tumbling rocks.

Sinus thrombosis and infection from herpes zoster

or more in layman's term, a clot in the sinus area just behind his eye and shingles.

That was what had caused the pain, and I think I cried the first time Faisal was admitted into the hospital.

Do you know that feeling of being totally unhelpful, borderline useless?

Yes, that was EXACTLY what I felt at the time.

A mere first year medical student, who's barely passing her exams, trying to help her friend who could die.

It loomed over me for days.

So yeah, glad to have you back Cai.

And thanks so much for the several days of "belanja-ing"

Money's really low, so thanks again :)

Results.

2009-04-01T13:30:00.000-07:00

Seriously

SERIOUSLY

Do you know how FAST a pit can form in your stomach when you hear these following words.

"Hey, the results are out today"

Oh fuck.

Exactly my very words.

Okay, not really-lah

But along those lines...

Haha, can't swear when chatting with people right?

They might think I'm this immoral KLite who thinks swearing is so cool.

Pfft, sue me.

ANYWAY...

Yeah, the results were released on Monday, a DAY after the exam.

Omg, I swear I wanna kill the idiot who thought it was a great idea to release the results UBER fast.

Ah, hope you eat bad noodles with bugs in it, you mean person! *sounds so girly, ewww*

Anyway, Picka, Fatin, Faisal and I along with Baby(my other housemate) and Jimmy (musyrif) went to the university at 9 pm.

This is awesome bit.

Supposedly, somebody told us that that university is open until 12.

PFFT!

We entered, with Fatin and I running in front until the top of the stairs when suddenly Picka (who was behind) was stopped by the guards.

We stopped for awhile, to listen to what the guards were saying to Picka, and soon, there was a group of people consisting of Faisal, Picka, Baby and Jimmy trying to convince the guards to let us up.

Mind you, Fatin and I were already top of the stairs.

So yeah,

WE MADE A RUN FOR IT.

You heard it.

We went all *Tom-Cruise-Like-In-Mission-Impossible-Not-On-Oprah*. So quiet, stealthily running to see our results

Just the two of us.

In the empty university.

My god, I felt how it was to be a criminal and it was...

AWESOME

So yeah, we managed to escape the guards and see our results.

I got 16.5.

a Jaid.

Again.

Well, that's what you get for last minute studying eh.

But nevertheless, still quite happy because well, it was a hard paper.

I would divulge the results of others but it's THEIR results, not mine.

Any inquiries, ask them :)

I'm going to bed. It's 2 am and I just finished my notes.

Tired...

See ya again :)

EXAMS!

2009-03-29T02:49:00.000-07:00

I haven't actually talked bout something else BESIDES my menstrual cycle.

To less perverted things

It'll be difficult but I'll try :)

Okay...
Hmmm...
Banana?
Still perverted?
Yes?
No?
Fine, let's talk about

EXAMINATIONS

Yes, today was my Semester 2 Mid Semester Examination.

What is that I hear you ask?
*yes, I have microphones in your bedroom, don't worry, I won't tell anyone about the *sounds* I hear at night*

It's an exam I have each semester, this is the mid term while the finals is in 7 more weeks.

And after that, you know what it means

*if I pass, get a scholarship, get my CAMERA, and tell everyone who doubted me "Fuck You"*

MALAYSIA

Home :)

So far, this is my track record

Semester 1

Mid Semester: 18.5/25 (Jaid or Good)

Finals: 70.5/100 (Another Jaid or Good)

The scoring are as follows:

85 - 100 (Mumtaz or Excellent)

75-84 (Jaid Jiddan or Very Good)

65-74 (Jaid or Good)

60-64 (Makbul or Pass)

So yeah, not exactly the dumbass I was back in school *pats back*

This is the scenery after the exam... filled with cries of

YA ALLAH, SUSAH!

and

TAK BOLEH BUAT!

Those are my friends, Picka and Faisal. Picka's my housemate and Faisal is obviously not.

On another note, Faisal's Egyptian friend came and had lunch with us today at Nusantara.

And we were trying to figure out what's squid in Arabic.

And we were trying to EXPLAIN to him what is a squid in the first place.

And Picka said this.

"Ikh squid fi arabi?" (what's squid in arabic)

"Squid, sotong...? You know... FRIEND TO PRAWN?

Goes without saying Picka, stick to being a doctor.

Haha, sayang kau lagi.

Later people :)

Argh... the wait is killing me.

2009-03-23T04:10:00.000-07:00

It's been officially bout a month that I haven't updated this blog.

You know how I know *don't tell me cause I checked the date, believe me I didn't... too much hassle to look back into my own laziness :)*

My period hasn't come yet :(

ARGH! MENOPAUSE....

Omg, you know what this means?

I'm gonna have to adopt!

My dad's gonna lose his lineage.

No little fat Chinese looking babies.

Nobody's gonna inherit my straight hair.

No kids with facial moles.

No one's gonna get my disproportionate eyes.

Or my height.

Or worst still...

MY SARCASM!!!

....

PERIOD, COME BACK!!! :(

Anyway, sorry for the late updates. I've been disheartened by the very few comments on my cbox :).

But since many have been egging me on to update, here I am.

Exam's coming, another 6 days to be exact.

To say I'm scared shitless is a total understatement. Being scared shitless is being chased after the kakak-kakak purdah *aka Malaysians-Pretending-To-Be-Egyptian- Ninjas* and I'm even willing to take that risk right now.

Our case for last week was about a homosexual man who contracted HIV.

Pfft.

Homophobe much?

Of all the people in this world, a HOMO had to contract HIV. Yeah, like a gay man is so promiscuous to go fuck around his other *most probably hot, well manicured/pedicured/with eyebrows waxed* gay brothers.

Arab, please.

Like there aren't HIV infected hussies waiting for you to put a coin in her slot
*you see what I did there, I used a EUPHEMISM for sex, I'm demure like that*

I'm ranting. Anyway, I just don't like labels. For example;

You have AIDS - Gay
You have syphillis - Slut
You have tattoos - Gangster
You ride a bike - Rempit
You like Mawi - Kampung *this is usually true, but hey... why label you when you already AFUNDIed your ass off :)*

Ah, I gotta go to the toilet. Till next time, see you again People-Who-Have-Nothing-Better-To-Do-Than Read-Ma-Blog :)

Three Cheers to Menstruation!

2009-02-22T15:12:00.001-08:00

It's been almost a week since I found out about my results.

A mere jaid.

They have this system of rankings;
Mumtaz, Jaid Jiddan, Jaid and Makbul

So a Mumtaz is an A+, a Jaid Jiddan is an A, a Jaid is a B and a Makbul is a C.

C is the passing mark by the way.

As I scoured through the result sheet, I couldn't help but also *happen* to *glance* or check ferverishly for other's results.

For the most parts, I could feel sadness/anger/dissapointment building up within me because well... a lot of people got higher than me. A lot!

I think it's enough to fill a country of smart people *which shall be called Smartopia or Geniustan*. With visitations from the neighbouring dumbass countries like Averagesia and United Mediocrity.

Okay, I'm digressing. Anyways, there was a lot of people who scored better marks than me and that got me thinking.

Am I dumb? Unlucky? Didn't receive the rezeki? or didn't study hard enough?

Denial told me that I was pretty much doomed to mediocre results for the rest of my life but self honesty decided that I just didn't study hard enough.

I prefer the last statement cause well... I'm not God :)

We just started semester 2.

So far so good :)

I've devised a plan to study and all, even posted up motivational quotes

*one said "John Hopkins Awaits Dr Nazeera Nasir MbbCh" and each time I look at it, I pretty much get a mental orgasm*

The topic this week was about Pregnancy and Embryology. It's pretty well laid out topic, the only dishearterning part was the fact we had to find out own objectives.

It was bad enough that we had to do the the objectives they have gave us last sem but to come up with our own was HARD.

I should go right now, cause I need to study so that I can go home and fall in love with Malaysia all over again.

Seriously, you have no idea how lucky you guys back home are.

BTW.

I got my period.
Thank the high heavens.
For a moment there I thought I was pregnant or menopausal.

and since nobody will touch me with a ten foot pole.

I often thought of the latter.

Loneliness consuming me...

2009-02-12T05:23:00.000-08:00

Everything’s changing around me.

It finally dawned upon me that I’m not at home.

Not it Malaysia. Not at in my own bed. Not surrounded by my family and friend.

Not in college. Not in Sri Garden.

But here.

In Egypt, where there’s four seasons, nobody speaks a language I comprehend and is situated in another continent.

I’m going to start semester 2 soon and honestly, I’m shit scared.

Why?

Not because I don’t study. Hell, I study like crap if I need to. But to know whether what I study is sufficient for the exams is another story.

As I wrote on the 25 things on Facebook, my greatest fear is that:

“I'm afraid to study too hard in case that if I fail, there's no way I can get out of feeling like a failure because I've given it my all. So I settle for mediocrity, afraid to reach for the stars.”

I’ve gotten good grades before, not all consistent. The only reason for them is because I studied, even that not whole heartedly.

But imagine this, you study like mad and yet, you still get the same mediocre results compared to those so called “gifted” ones whose idea of studying includes a brief glance at the books and spending the rest of their study time browsing through Facebook/Friendster/Myspace or anything that DOESN’T include studying.

What makes life unfair is the existence of these kinds of people.

I feel really lonely here. I seriously do.

It’s not that I don’t like my new housemates. It’s just that everything is changing so fast and my housemates been friends with each other for ages and suddenly, here I come into the picture.

I miss everyone back home.

But what can I do right?

Should’ve studied for SPM .

And maybe I could’ve been doing something back in Malaysia instead of coming here.

Maybe I’m just letting the solitude cloud my judgement right now.

It’s just that, I seriously feel so out of place.

I’ve never so different before, from the IM I use to the things I use, all so very different.

I’m trying seriously I am. But sometimes I get so overwhelmed that I shun everyone out and people take this is as arrogance.

I have no sweet relationship stories to tell, no awesome boarding school tales to share, no funny sibling rivalry to brag about.

Just never felt so very ordinary before.

So bloody average.

Gosh, emo much?

New Year, New Blog

2009-01-05T03:12:00.001-08:00

First of all,

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE =)

My new years sucked.

Seriously.

We had a test the next day so I had to study. It was just Piqa (my housemate), Faisal (my friend), Shabby and Asadah (who should be porn stars instead of medical students :P)

It was sad really.

But Asadah was dancing to the music in her head and it was fun to watch. Even if we pretended we didn't know her.

Even as we walked through the streets, it was like these damn Egyptians didn't know that it was New Years...

just inhaling their shishas and making bombs (okay, KIDDING!)

Damn Egyptians

To everybody who are wondering what happened to my old blog. It's still there. Just not accessible for now.

Cause my dad found it. o_O

Yeah, my dad found my blog that is FILLED with expletives and teenage secrets!

Like one post where I was having my period and I felt depressed.

He had the NERVE to ask me about it.

so I restricted the access to it.

Sorry everybody.

Blame the 40+ year old man who googled my name.

Anyway, more posts will come. I PROMISE.

I should really start studying.

See ya.