After All The Hard Work, Thank You.

found via Flickr
It still feels somehow unreal that after all those hard works throughout this long and rough year, I finally passed the driving test and successfully received my driver’s license. It may sounded ridiculous to those who passes the test on the first trial but for me who have gone for the third time—it is still something that I thought would only happened in my dream.

Alhamdulillah, I have successfully finished the second course of the driving test on the third time. Well, I guess sometimes certain things really do take up to three times. I have not disappoint my parents again and finally made them feel somehow a little proud of this useless daughter of theirs. Hey, at least this time I did not return home from the test with a failure and actually brought back a proof that mentioned that I passed the test with my own effort.

Thank you Allah for this amazing year-end gift, especially for my parents because they have spent a lot of money and time to make sure I pass the driving test and Alhamdulillah, I have finally passed it. Although not with flying colors but at least I have passed it quite successfully.

No more learning how to drive and wasting my money to pay for the hours I spent learning to drive. I will no longer have to receive continuous phone calls by the staffs at the driving school and going to the test venue. Oh God, this is a very wonderful year-end gift I could ever ask for.

My last resolution for the year 2011—to get my driver’s license at the age of twenty and before 2011 ends—has finally been fulfilled. Alhamdulillah, now I am ready—well, just partially ready though—to focus my attention toward the upcoming final examination on January 3. Talk about the best way to ruin the New Year’s mood, is it?

Alhamdulillah once again for this small achievement of mine and next, I will be praying for my younger sister to pass her driving test soon.

Takes A Month To Disappear, Darling.

found via weheartit
It takes me a month of procrastination to actually write something. I do not what I should actually write anymore, that I do not feel as if to come here anymore. I try hard not to ditch anything—I mean; somehow I still love this small space where I am free to be my self.

I spend too much time trying to make excuses to my self—I will not do any assignment because I am probably too lazy to even write the cover page, I will not move out from my bedroom because I do not have anything else to do in the living room, I will not wake up from my sleep because I need more time to sleep, I will not stop my interest in anime recently because it is the only way I do not feel alone in this world—and yeah, the list of excuses will continue. I do not find life to be anything near interesting anymore lately. I am basically alive for the purpose of the human shell that I continue to occupy.

Surely I know that I am probably becoming too melancholic with my own life and I am a little dramatic with the little downs of life but I need to say something—at some point, I am nothing but a time bomb. I am off to explode; I am just waiting for the right time to transform into pieces.

Fifth semester of college begins and here comes the hell in shape of assignments—it gets pretty ridiculous lately with the insane amount and type of assignment. I mean, I do know everyone does this but oh fuck, I hate this. I do not give any fuck to anything relates to college anymore.

In the end, I continue to rant about my life to bore almost everyone—if barely anyone who reads this. I will brush off this melancholic side of my self, which probably happens because it is currently raining and I am feeling a bit homeless to have to bring all of my things out from the bedroom and move temporarily into the living room at midnight to allow my younger sister to properly use the bedroom for sleeping purpose tonight. I hate this, seriously.

Anyway, good night world, I need to put a rest to my self too. Probably the crazy idea to skip class tomorrow would make me happier. Yeah, I will probably do that. Mom, I am going to skip class tomorrow. I do not feel like attending News Editing—the main reason would be that I do not finish my assignment, thank you.

Don't Like Me For This, Don't Like Me For That.

found via explainmeplease.tumblr
You know what will be the first sign that your Thursday is probably going to be a bad one? When your parents start to point out all those flaws you have for the first time in your twenty years of life. It feels awkward at first when the two people you truly believe will accept you for who you are will never complain about these flaws that you practically try to hide from everyone else. But later, it starts to hurt—pretty badly.

My mother scolds me about the way I speak. She says that I am too rough for a girl. She says that I need to low down my tone and speaks gently. It feels as if someone just shoots me through the head with a rifle. At first I try as hard as I could to accept the complaint—because obviously she is my mother—but later when she continuously talks about it, I start to feel the pain. I mean, for twenty years she never once say anything about the way I speak. If she knows that this is how I speak since the day I manage to actually speak properly, why does she say nothing and waits for twenty years to finally say it out loud?

I love my mother, yes. But I hate it when her words start to literally hurt me. I appreciate that she wants me to change for the better, but the way she says it hurt the most. I do not mind anyone else to scold me for the way I speak, but when it is my mother who scolds me in a way that she never does before, I practically wish I am the one who holds the rifle in my head, ready to burst my brain with its bullets.

I am twenty years too late to change the way I speak. I guess the best solution to this problem is to just stop talking for a while. No one will have to listen to the roughness of my way of talking. No one will have to listen to the high tone I use while I speak. I will not offend anyone. I am safe in my own ugly little world.

As if the world is off to rub more salt on my bleeding wound, my father finally complains on how I dress to attend college daily. While I am putting on my seedy sneakers, he tells me to put on something nicer. I say that wearing my nicer shoes mean that I have to walk for a kilometer in pain because my other shoes are practically not for walking. He says that I need to look pretty for college—much like how flashy my younger sister looks when she goes to her college.

Sigh, I am a journalism student. I am going to be a writer. I could not run or walk around in some uncomfortable flat shoes that will give me blisters or some nice high-heels that will practically kill my feet. I could not put on my sandals because my dad already asks me not to wear sandals to college because I will look as if I am going to the market instead. And now when I put on the most comfortable sneakers I own, my father complains that I look shabby.

I wear t-shirts and sweaters and dark colors clothing to college. I do not have a wide range of clothes because I am not a small size girl—I am the one who buys the size L or XL while shopping for clothes. I wear whatever makes me comfortable. I spend one day in college. Why would I want to look as if I am off to a club to flirt with boys? I take the public transportations to return home. I walk for a freaking one kilometer from the bus stop to my house. Why in the world would I ever want to wear something that will make me look like a whore and makes me want to undress my self as soon as I leave the bus?

It seems like it is wrong to be my self lately. I am sorry for not able to be that perfect girl everyone expect. I am sorry that I offend many people because I am trying to be my self. I am sorry that my imperfect existence practically annoys anyone in this space I occupy. I am sorry.

Memories In Bandung, Indonesia.

Yes, it was one of the most amazing experiences in my life to have the chance to have a family vacation in one of the most amazing places I ever visited in my life—Bandung, Indonesia. It was an incredible trip, thank you for the memories, Bandung. I will love to spend another week in Bandung, Indonesia anytime. In fact, my family is already planning for our second trip to Bandung, this time probably with the whole family altogether.









Tangkuban Parahu, Bandung.

Hot Water Spring.









Batik Shop.





Pasar Baru, Bandung.





Kartika Sari Bakery, Bandung.



Rumah Tas and a Factory Outlet in Bandung.


Goodbye Bandung, Indonesia and Hello Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia.

That Letter To Her Father.

Call me a sentimental freak or whatever names there are for someone who just values everything minor thing that happens in life—but I always feel that whenever I have a ride on the motorcycle with my father, who drops me at college and picks me up almost four days in a week, I feel like that same little girl that my father always pats on her head with a smile. I feel like I am his little girl once again—though I do not longer have my arms around his waist for security—but I feel closer to my father.

And I do not want to talk about how distant the two of us have become over the past few years.


found via weheartit
Surely, no father would want a daughter who grows up too fast that he could no longer reach for his baby girl. I am that girl—unfortunately—of who has pushed my father far beyond the extent of just being his little girl. I admit that once when I was still in my innocent childhood, I sincerely want to grow up and marry someone exactly like my father. At whatever ages we are before we reach ten year-old, most girls believe that our fathers are the best men in the world. Our fathers are better than any superheroes in comics or animations. Our fathers are better than any firefighters—unless your father is a firefighter—and even better than any presidents in the world.

At those tender ages, we see our world through our fathers—back then, they are our superheroes.

But I grow older, I start to mingle with lots of different people through high school and college, I start to change—and that change includes the way the communication between my father and I. I do not like him to pat on my head and says that I am his good little girl because that will be embarrassing. I do not want my father to hold my hand if we ever want to cross a busy street because that will make me look like a ten year-old fool. I do not want my father to appear anywhere I am because it will be awkward to be around my friends and finds my father somewhere—sort of stalking me. I push my father far from my poor social life and teenage life.

But now that I am legally reaching the two zero age, I start to think that maybe if I stay as the little girl my father loves to tease and tell jokes to would not something that is completely wrong.

I mean, at whatever age I am, my father is still my father.

I do not why but this transition from the little girl who does the weirdest things in her life—and do not ask me what are those weird things I ever done because I will be a freak show for everyone if I ever tell anyone, seriously—to the girl who talks about handsome boys and college and the latest fashion trends who do not spend much time talking with her father anymore is just something that bothers me a lot. It maybe just a problem with me or probably something normal that every girl goes through, but I do not like these spaces I create between my father and me.

Basically, I know that my father misses me—the old me—of the girl who does the weirdest things yet still the talkative young girl who runs around the house after teasing my younger sister all day long. He misses that—he misses his little girls. My older sister is in her thirties, I am officially entering the world of twenties in approximately seven months whereas my youngest sister is becoming eighteen in three months—surely my father feels that his daughters are growing older too fast in front of his eyes.

God, I do not want to even know how that feels— not unless I become a parent my self.

So if you are drifting away from your father upon getting older by a year throughout your life, do not be like my self. Stay close to your father because he is the only superhero who will love you and protect you with all his life—of which I do not know if husbands would do the same, since they are only a family member of yours upon marriage—and the only person in the world who will see you as his little girl regardless how old are you. Hey, it is a good thing to stay young even if just in your father’s eyes.

I am going to fix this relationship with my father, not because I feel that I need to—but because I feel that I want to. I would love to be his little girl for the rest of my life, because I know that he will always love me, and I always do love him too.

This Is The Friday Post, Thank You.

While finishing the assignments earlier this week, a big mess.

The terrifying week of endless assignments has successfully ends—with only one group assignment to finish and I off to enjoy weeks without burdens until final examination comes in mid-May. Less than a month to go, yet my notes are like a bundle of masses—lots of papers, too much to even fit my shelf.

Bad news people—I dropped my laptop for the first time in my life, ever. It tragically happened during Reporting class last yesterday when I accidentally dropped my laptop which was switched on—I was busy editing my fan fiction in class, which calls for a punishment does it. It just dropped off the portable desk and I heard all this gasps from my fellow classmates. Thanks for the horror, people.

My baby Samsung playing Satisfaction MV on replay throughout the whole night.

God, I feel like I want to cry, literally. Thankfully, the class has carpeted floor and the height from where the laptop fell was not high or else, I would cry my heart out. My dearest Samsung R439—one of my bundle of joys in life—please forgive me for accidentally dropped you. Don’t go against me, please. I need you so freaking much, you are an addiction.

It is Friday people, which mean presentations for Effective Speaking class. We have to do persuasive speeches this time and I have chosen a campaign for my fellow classmate to follow—the No Plastic Bag Day campaign. I feel like a complete nerd for choosing such environmentalist’s topic. Anyhow, I did quite well this time and I scored a nice 75 marks out of 100 marks—which is satisfying enough when I did most of the presentation with a blank mind and continuously reading from my speech text. The lecturer reminded me to communicate more with the audience. Yeah, I will do that like, never. I have poor social skills, remember?

The new speech text I managed to print on the morning of the presentation like a boss.

The comments by the lecturer regarding my presentation, 75 marks out of 100 marks.

However, the attendance for this speech is devastating. Only ten people were presented and we all finished our speeches in approximately one hour and a half perhaps. How frustrating, for those who dream about achieving all those ridiculous dreams, you have to at least show an effort people. Success does not come by it self. If you can’t commit to such things in college, imagine how you would face the career world soon? Get a brain in those small heads of yours, people. Stop with the day-dreaming and think straight in reality please.

I was supposed to meet my fellow group-mates today but one of them said that she could not join due to health problem thus, the meeting was cancelled. I was left to be stranded in college for approximately six hours like an idiot. It was a boring experience and I did not eat a single thing since the early morning. I have to drop my bag in the car when my dad arrived to pick me up from college and rushed to the Seven Eleven to get my self something to eat.

Big bowl of Sambal Sotong, Ikan Cencaru Goreng and an instant noodles, all for my self.

Ah, the lack of meals forced me to have such heavy dinner to redeem the hunger I sustained while sitting alone in the cafeteria. I could not leave my table because I have my laptop on and I was by my self. I could not pick everything up, go to the counter and order my self a nice bowl of noodles and return back, set up the laptop all from the beginning. I would be like an idiot. Yet I am still an idiot who sustain her hunger like a maniac one whole day.

I am off to enjoy the weekends, people. I am putting Satisfaction single album on repeat on my Windows Media Player, on the play-list of my mp3 player and on the media player in my mobile phone. The track Friends is a pure addiction, it is my new crack and my new ecstasy. Call me crazy, people. I do not care.

Beautiful Day, Saturday.

Mid-term examination is officially over and although I could say goodbye to mid-term examination, I could not do the same with the assignments that continue to suffocate my living space. I am in an urgent need to free my self from this irritating mess.


found via Facebook
My fellow Journalism friends and I while waiting for the other friends to finish answering their News Writing examination paper outside the class, on the corridor of our college. We do not usually do this, no one would ever see us sitting this lazily along the corridor of the college during our free time. This could only be done because it was Saturday and no one comes to college on Saturdays except for examination and it was already late in the evening and everyone has left, except for us.

The final examination paper—News Writing—ended on Saturday and instead of going home and doing the usual boring routines of any boring Saturdays, I willingly followed my other Journalism friends to their outing for Photojournalism class. And yes, I do not take Photojournalism subject this semester. It happened that we are quite close to the lecturer and we did not mind taking the monorail and walked to Bukit Bintang to see how the outing was really done.



found via Facebook
Half the Journalism friends and I in front of the fountain outside Pavilion Kuala Lumpur with our lecturer; he is the man in the middle wearing a red t-shirt and a ZARA leather(?) jacket. He looked as if he was one of us, just slightly older but still, looked as if he could perfectly fit in with us and not like he is our lecturer. He is the only reason why my mom said yes when I asked for the permission to tag along the outing. He is a lecturer, my mom would not ask anymore.

It was an awesome field trip—bringing back the memories when I was younger and went to a field trip with my school mates. I learned a lot about photography—although I do not take this particular subject. I am officially registering for this subject next semester with my fellow friends who do not take it as well. I have fun watching those friends who are taking the subjects working with their DSLR but the best was that we managed to spend the whole evening with our out-going lecturer. Most people will not believe he is our lecturer. He looks like one of our friends.

Yesterday was supposedly the Earth Hour day but it did not seem to happen much in Bukit Bintang or Pavilion. It still looks extremely bright with lights all around us when we are about to leave. I can't never believe that I walked around Pavilion at night with my fellow friends. It was awesome, thank you very much. Although some complaints from the friend who I can't name were extremely irritating, I managed to stay calm and pretend nothing happened.

I got home with LRT with my other three girl friends and took the only taxi left at the train station home. It was already passed nine and almost ten when I finally reached home. My mom was extremely worried about my whereabouts, even more when she knew that I will be taking a taxi home. Fortunately, nothing bad happened and I safely reached home before ten. Thank God, I only ended up with some blisters thanks to my gladiator sandals of which I will never wear to college ever again. I know I should just wear my sneakers yesterday but my younger sister told me not to.

Hey friends, let's do this again. Although it is bad for my finance—the train tickets, the meals, the other things—but I feel happy when I am out with all of my friends. Surely, we should do this some other time. But in the meanwhile, I should save as much as I could to take my niece and my younger sister out for a lunch treat soon.

The Malay Chronicles, Hikayat Merong Mahawangsa.

found via Hikayat Merong Mahawangsa's Facebook Page
Truth to be told, I went to watch Hikayat Merong Mahawangsa (in English translated as The Malay Chronicles: Bloodline) with my dearest best friend last Monday. I know I should not waste my time watching a movie when the fact this week is my mid-term examination week but I can't actually resist the epic movie. I mean, surely the trailer it self already makes me feel half of my heart is already inside the cinema. With a great movie like this, I don't really mind spending RM11 for my ticket.

I personally love this epic movie—regardless that I am not a big fan of epic movies. I mean, I don't really spend my time watching some epic war movies. But Hikayat Merong Mahawangsa might just be an exception because it is such a good movie. It was well-made and well-executed. Of course, as usual there will be minor flaws here and there but this is such a good Malaysian movie—even though eighty percent of the movie uses English as it main language medium. I understand, it is to be easier for foreigners (well, consider that almost half of its casts are foreigners too) to understand.

I look at this as a good way to teach foreigners about our old folklore and tales. I mean, I have heard about this tale of Merong Mahawangsa but only after I watched the movie that I went for some quick research. Yes, I am that crazy sometimes. The casts are amazing, make it that I don't have any complains against the casting of Stephen Rahman-Hughes as Merong Mahawangsa. Such a handsome actor, I must say. My mom only thinks that he is the major reason why she watches the movie.

On another note, such amazing CGI techniques for local people. Not as amazing as Lord of The Ring or whatsoever, but still such a great work for the people of Malaysia to feel proud of. Everything is rather clean and neat, I like it. The music arrangement, magnificent and incredible. I do not mind listening to the music scores over and over again throughout the movie itself. Honestly, I am still listening to its theme song sang by my mother's favorite male singer, Anuar Zain—Sedetik Lebih or the English version titled The Memories Remain—because it is such a great masterpiece.

If you are not a fan of local Malay, I still recommend that you give Hikayat Merong Mahawangsa a chance to amaze you. I mean, my father is still amaze by the movie and he does not watch any Malay movie at all if you ask me. The movie is great and I may let my bias speak on my behalf but it is great. I dare to give it five out of five stars, considering that I do not watch Malay movies at cinemas. I do not waste my money for my own local film industry, yes I am that horrible. But this Hikayat Merong Mahawangsa, I don't want to spoil it for anyone who has not watch.

Go and watch the movie your self and you will absolutely believe my words. Such a good production from a local production house. This is what I could call a great Malaysian movie—a movie that brings our local filming industry up to a new level.

I will be spending another RM11 for the premiere of Sucker Punch this Thursday, as if I don't have to study for my examinations. And this is not any kind of advertisement for any sides that may gain benefits for the movie. I am solely doing this because I like this movie and my intention does not relate to any production or any kind of beneficial people.

Terrifying Morning Without Coffee.

My cousin is getting married today and I have absolutely no idea on why my mom actually force all of her daughters—yes, including my elder sister who are married with three sons and living five minutes away from us—to wake up damn early today when the fact that it is not us who are going to get married.

Anyhow, I am trying a new style of shawl today—courtesy of my younger sister. I don't know how it will work out but I have tried it on ten minutes after I woke up and here is the result. I am not sure if it looked okay because my face is completely bloated and I have not yet taken my morning dose of coffee. I looked horrible—look at those black circles.

I will post the fresh version of my self-taken picture after I got ready for the wedding—putting on make-up and whatsoever. I do not need to terrify my readers with my horrible morning bloated face anymore. Although, I could not promise this.

All The Brilliant Misfits.

found via weheartit
Fortunately that the NC that I have amazingly obtained in my result for previous semester does not mean that I have to crazily retake that one particular subject throughout the whole semester—but instead, I should just pay the fee (damn it, this freaking annoying college surely knows how to make students pay for almost every single thing) and sit for the Referral Exam to make up the missing final examination's marks. God, thank you for this brilliant opportunity.

Although the real mystery is that where the hell did the marks for my final examination has gone that it has amazingly gave me a NC in the whole result, I am just freaking glad that at least I don't have to take the subject again for the second time in my life. Less the pain, oh thank you. Even the fact that I have to shamelessly drag my self to the office and meet the detestable lecturer of that particular subject does not hurt this joy of not having to repeat the whole subject. Let us all do the chicken dance right at this part.

Let me be serious, I have not attended even one class this week. On Monday, I missed two classes as I attended the funeral of my dad's cousin. On Tuesday, I went to college but I have brilliantly lost the class venue—leaving me clueless about where the exact class is precisely—this I blamed the administration for printing the wrong class venue. Today however, I am supposed to attend advertising class but I failed to contact my friend and thinking that she did not attend it, I spent my entire evening in the library—only to come back home and realized that that one particular friend did attend the class anyway. Thank you so fucking much for the betrayal, dear friend.

Tomorrow, on the day where I am supposed to be attending another class, my dad has magnificently scheduled a trial driving test for me with the driving school. God, now I am just terribly nervous and fidgeting. What if I don't do well enough tomorrow? What if the engine dies in the middle of the road? What if the car reverses by it self when it stops by the hill? What if I can't complete the parallel parking in less than five minutes? What if I hit a pole during the last part? There are one thousand and four what ifs that I need to answer. I want my driving license so freaking much, but I am not confident I will do well.

Anyway, please wish me luck for tomorrow. I really need to get my own driving license and drive my way around. I need to prove that I am good in something—and please let that something be driving.

Zero Satisfaction.

The most appropriate GIF to express my current feelings.
Whether I like or detest it, the reality is that I have terribly obtained a NC—of which stands for Not Complete, as in one does not submit enough assignments to perfect the carry marks in one particular subject—in the result for the examination for the second semester. Even more amazingly is that I have obtained the NC for the most detestable subject I have ever taken in semester two which is—UFS 111—Basic English 2. I fucking love this subject, I am setting up a second date with it later. Damn you, Basic English 2.

Although the one to blame for this crappy result (which CGPA pointer which I could not brag about) is none other than my self, it still feels terribly bitter to know that I failed to impress anyone with this kind of result. Like seriously, what is there to brag when I have one subject which ultimately translates that I have not done a good job. I should have done a proper job with this subject—I really should have submitted all assignments.

Trying to explain the whole situation to my parents are like teaching one year-old child to recite the multiplies of nine in one hour. I mean, they never have a child that literally enrolls a university (in my case, college of course) so they have these things about college administration's things a bit too complicated. I am sorry, I will try harder this third semester, mom and dad. I am a bad daughter, but I will change.

Most likely the situation right now is that I have to retake the subject for the whole semester soon. The horror of redoing the 1000 words collection thingy suddenly returns magnificently. Say hello to hell in college. God, forgives me for being such a bad student.

They Gather Here For The Funeral.

found via Photography Moments
I attended the funeral of a distant relative of mine—a cousin of my dad actually—after so much consideration earlier this morning. Honestly, I never have the chance to know my own uncle—or whatever I have to call him, because he was a cousin of my dad who seemed to have quite a close bond with the siblings of my dad. May he rest in peace. Condolences to his family—his wife and his five kids. Be strong, all that is alive will soon die. It is just a matter of time.

However, it becomes intriguing that distant relatives only have the chance to meet each other after so many freaking years in times when there is a funeral. I met a lot of relatives from my dad's side today of which I have never knew they even exist. Funny, how relationships develop when a soul is lost. God has its own tricky way to connect people—through discoveries and loses. It gets even funnier when I could detest those distant cousins I have only meet for the first time today so freaking much, it does not hurt for me to say that maybe it will be better than we could never meet again.

On a brighter note, I finally know that my dad has relatives from all around Malaysia—he has relatives from almost every state in this country. It is interesting to just quietly sit some place and listen to all those relatives communicate to each other in all those different dialects. Like an awkward harmony—like a synchronize rhythm.

Unfortunate Story of This Sunday.

found via I'm The Type Of Person To Take It Personal
Being a bad daughter like I have always been—I literally yelled at my mother the moment I woke up this morning. All courtesy of my elder sister who is freaking persuasive (now I know how freaking annoying it gets when someone persuades me too much) to ask my younger sister and I to follow her to the water theme park—Sunway Lagoon—with her and the rest of her happy family. Dear sister, why bother ask if you know that it will be like damn awkward for us two to be there with you and your sons and most importantly, how on earth are we going to have fun in the water if we have to keep our manners in front of our brother-in-law. Damn awkward.

So sorry mom, for yelling like that. It was seriously not done purposely. I am already annoyed by the humongous alien creature that grows underneath my right eye that makes it damn horribly swollen. The last thing I need is my mother telling to me follow my elder sister without knowing that it will be extra awkward for my younger sister and I plus, we are definitely going to be like some sort of her maids or something. She will order us around, doing this and that for her sons. Not that we really care because we love our nephews but seriously, do we need to do everything for her on weekends just like how we did on weekdays too?



Back to the matter of the alien creature underneath my eye—its growing bigger! I swear, last night the creature is not this big. It was not even visible but the moment I woke up this morning, I surprised my self. I could hardly open my eyes without feeling uncomfortable with this creature inhabiting underneath my eye. It is slightly painful, like a big giant zit you want to pop so that it will not effect your daily life. Unfortunately, this alien creature is not as easy to pop as a zit. Dad already offered to take me to the clinic—but as always, I said no.

I freaking detest this creature growing on my face right now. I have two classes to attend tomorrow—as if I enjoy attending classes on Monday. However, regardless my unwillingness to attend class, I don't need to bring along a creature to class tomorrow. I mean it, seriously. I don't need to become a class joker with this creature on my ugly face. I don't need to become uglier than I am always.

This is not really a good Sunday. I think I would have to fight for the remote control again if I want to watch the rerun of 2010 Golden Disk Award on MTV later. I am already in a foul mood after last night fighting with my dad over the remote control. I don't need to do that again today, with this creature growing on my face right now. Give me back my precious Sunday.

Hey Sister, Thanks For The Memories.

found via and now i'm free fallin
I finally spent one whole day with my younger sister—just the two of us—for the first time ever in my twenty years of life. I am the worst elder sister ever, I know. I promised to take her out so many times, yet never once did I fulfilled my promises. Dear little sister, I am so freaking sorry. I promise to take you out more often from now on.

We went to KLCC since today is a public holiday and our dad is away to his hometown for some family business. We thought that giving our mom a day off from chores would be great so we just grabbed lunch while we were out. I bought movie tickets for my younger sister—freaking RM18 for each 3D movie ticket. I should have asked for a 2D instead. My younger sister actually agreed to watch The Green Hornet with me, knowing my bias towards Jay Chow.

Hey, the movie is not as bad as I thought it would after reading several reviews. It was a bit slow in the beginning but overall, it was entertaining. Yes, not the best action movie but the humor of the movie itself kept the movie very much entertaining. At least, I knew I was laughing all the way from the beginning to the end. But oh my God, my eyes were all on Jay Chow. He is the most handsome and awesome sidekick—or partner—in movies ever. And The Black Beauty—gosh, I would love to have my driver's license now to get my hands on an amazing car like The Black Beauty. Anyway, I am not going to give anymore spoilers, go on and watch it in the cinema yourself.

The one thing I am sure about is that we went shopping like a pair of crazy sisters. I ultimately spent up to almost RM150 alone. I bought two t-shirts from Padini and my younger sister bought her self a pair of jacket and a t-shirt. Oh, we also bought four graphic novels from Kinokuniya. The funny thing was that I almost spent up to RM100 if we ever dare to go into the CD store called The Rock Corner to look for FT Island's Beautiful Journey CD. If only we did go into that store, the horror of spending too much money.

I had fun with my younger sister, though she could sometimes be a bit irritating but hey, we are still sisters regardless whatever. Maybe I will take her out again very much soon, but I need to save up my allowance first for sure. The temptation to buy all those good stuffs when we are out without our parents, but the pain of spending so much money. Come to think about it, I still have not take my niece out for lunch and movie as I promised her too.

One Hell Of The Horror Ride.

Successfully finished the first class for News Reporting today—one hour earlier than the scheduled time because our lecturer is amazing like that. However, I have to spend more than an hour battling against the lousy administration department along with another perhaps thirty to forty other unfortunate students who have their time tables all awesomely messed up by the administrative system. Way to go, our college.

My awesome guy friend told me that we both have an advance subject in our time table thus I have to drop that subject—unless I want to be beyond awesome and crack my brain open all by my self—and add in another subject instead. The lousy administrative system has its own epic fail moment for sure. Unfortunately, the new added subject—The Study of Film—does not trigger my interest by any bit.

After leaving all the hustle and bustle of the lousy administration department behind happily, I decided to watch a movie with my friend—of who I have promised to watch movie with since the beginning of this week. She got her wishes fulfilled because I have unwillingly dragged my self to watch the Malay horror movie she was dying to watch. Bought the tickets and wandered around KLCC for more than a hour like a pair of crazy teenagers. Hey, we are awesome like that.


Khurafat is the title of the movie and oh my, was it one hell of a thrilling ride. I squeaked and screamed like a coward shamelessly for the first time in my entire life inside a cinema. I was literally hiding my face behind my bag and behind my hands. My heart was beating faster than during the marathon I joined several years ago in high school. I was completely horrified. Mr. Director, thank you for the horror ride.

found via Filmdroid
However, I watched the teasers of The Green Hornet outside the cinema before going in for the movie Khurafat and damn it, I am dying to watch it. I solemnly swear I want to watch it for the delicious treat of Jay Chow in it. Oh my, we are talking about the incredible Jay Chow. I mean it. I am going to watch that movie regardless whatever that might happen. Make it this week or next week, I am going to watch it. I don't care about the reviews, all I care about is Jay Chow and his ass-kicking appearance—plus the comedic parts of the movie that cracks me up even through the teasers.

Come to think about it, I should ask my niece to accompany me for a trip to awesome treat of Jay Chow in The Green Hornet soon—since I have irresponsibly promised to take her out for a treat sometime. I am a mean auntie, I know it.

Brand New Days, Sweetheart.

found via the hipsterskids
Sweet holiday season has successfully (and unfortunately, unwillingly) ended and it is time for me to drag my lazy self back to college to make a fresh new start for the third semester of my second year in college. Seriously, I am forcing myself to go back. I mean it. I detest every single detail about my third semester—make it in every single aspect about my college life right now.

As usual, the relationship between both me and the administration counter is always tense. Even after third semester in my second year, we have not built any kind of chemistry between us. I still so freaking hate you, administration department, thank you very much. Students have been crowding the administration department thanks to the oh-so-wonderful management. Congratulations on the new records, students are sitting on the floor waiting for their turn to meet the unfriendly administrations’ staffs. I still hate you.

I have five freaking subjects this semester—two of them are missing in action from my schedule. English for Specific Purpose (UFS201) has successfully started but unfortunately, they are giving me Mr. Bala—who taught me back in first semester. I have to listen to his entire nag and talk about this and that. He is still not over the fact that none of us really like to speak English all the time.

News Writing class has not started because well, the class was empty last time I checked. No lecturer, no students. Wow, talk about a good way to start a semester. And this is how the college expect us to excel in our examinations? Way to go, people. Next class will be on Thursday and it will be Reporting. No clues about my other two class. I don’t want to drag my self into the crowd in front the administration department anymore.

Today—since there are no classes—I went to deposit RM140 to buy the FT Island’s DVD concert that I have been dreaming about since last year. I am also buying together a Pentastick after four years of being a loyal fan of the band. How awesome am I to do that? I went shopping alone for a while after depositing the money and bought a fabric dye—in the color of yellow—of which my mom taught I was going to dye everything white that I own into yellow. I am not that crazy. Overall, I have amazingly spent RM160 in one particular day in less than three hours. Gosh, I am scaring my self.

While paying a visit to the bookshop in the shopping mall, I quietly made my way into the art section. I managed to fit in there, to have the feeling that everything in there fit me perfectly. I went to search for some acrylic paint and considering the prices, maybe next time. I was thinking about getting some brushes and oil paint but I think I should start with something basic. But God, I was silently screaming in excitement when I see all those beautiful poster colors. I want to buy them all. I should pay a visit to the regular art supplies’ shop near my old college to buy these stuffs because they are still so awesome in my eyes.

My older sister is begging my parents to go for another holiday vacation during the upcoming Chinese New Year holiday, considering that all of us are going to enjoy another sweet one week holiday. My parents seemed to have taken her words into consideration because up until now, my mom kept asking, “Where would you want to go this upcoming holiday?”. I don’t know, maybe just staying at home?

Greetings From The Historical City of Malacca.

My family and I have successfully arrived in Malacca earlier today and we had the most enjoyable journey ever. We kept on laughing like four people on some kind of school trip and we told silly jokes to each other until we laughed so hard, I have tears in my eyes—okay, the tears might have been due to the fact that I have some sort of eyesore.




We are currently staying in a boutique hotel—not that I have any idea what the hell a boutique hotel is but it has become a trend here in this historical town—called Arenaa De Luxe Hotel. Fortunately, this hotel is freaking stylish and awesome. The interior is just too amazing for words. It is chic and stylish. Our suites are in the third floor, both facing the main road in front of the hotel. I love my suite too much, we have to extend our stay until tomorrow. This hotel is too amazing, except for the location. It is quite a distant away from the center of the city but it is still nice. You can arrive at Padang Pahlawan in less than fifteen minutes for sure.

I have become my family's official photographer thus I am not in most of the photos we took around Malacca today. I thought I wanted to upload some but seeing the dimensions of those photos in the DSLR freaks me out big time. I will do so eventually just not now. I am facing the flat screen TV inside my suite while my younger sister lazying lying on the bed reading her romantic novel. I have no idea what my parents are doing in the suite opposite mine but I don't really want to know.

We have so much fun today—although the streets are confusing both my dad and I but we are managing it. We have some help from the oh-so-useful uncle Google and the awesome maps my dad snatched from work. So far, this trip has been a fun ride. I am anticipating tomorrow. Got to wait and see what my dad has in his plan tomorrow.


On another good news, congratulations to my favorite FT Island for winning the Bonsang Award on the High1 Seoul Music Awards recently. I am so freaking happy for the win but not so happy regarding the mini drama before their performances. Song Seunghyun, you are way too young to hug some random noona and lands your cute face onto the back of her head like some kind of creeper. Although, I don't mind you do that to me.

Insomnia Gets In The Way, Honey.

It is pretty obvious no one really cares but this is how I look without make-up and when it is almost two in the morning yet I am nowhere near the bed or any pillow to sleep. My disastrous dark circles—I need to do something about these. My mom would freak out if she walks out from her bedroom and realizes that her daughter is not sleeping and bothering her younger sister by letting the lights on so that she could selfishly uses the laptop in the comfort of her bedroom. I should really find a way to sleep or else I will sleep throughout the whole journey from Kuala Lumpur to Malacca tomorrow. Not that I want to cherish the journey but at least I want to stay awake.

Mistakes Happen, Forgive Me.

found via I am a gypsy
There has been a lack of updates around here—not because I am going on a secretive hiatus mode or something but because I am facing such difficulties trying to get the wireless connection. My mom is considering the option of getting the broadband so I am praying hard that she will continue with her decision to get me one. Trying to connect to this current wireless connection is too hard—nowadays it often disappear without a warning.

I am also in the mood to watch dramas and movies more than being online thus forgive me for the lack of updates. I have no active social life now that I am still enjoying my two-weeks semester break. My parents are taking my younger sister and I for a three days two nights holiday in Malacca this Thursday so, I guess I could update later. Oh, on another note, here is three of the five subjects I have to take for our third semester, due to start next week.


Gosh I wish this holiday could be a little bit longer. I am enjoying the pleasure of waking up so freaking late nowadays, it hurts whenever I hear the alarm clock rings every morning.

Life In My Own Language.

I have recklessly abandoned my blog upon the first week of my semester holiday—not because I am lazy like that but because I am facing such crisis with my current wireless connection. I don't know what have happened but I am unable to connect to the wireless connection for the past four days thus I am spending my first week of holiday to finish reading my novel and in the same time, making up insane jokes and weird dance moves to annoy every member of my family.

The sweetness of this holiday has gotten its way into my brain, literally.

Allow me to use this next paragraph in Malay because well—surely I have to maintain my fluency of my own language. I have been using too much English in this blog, I don't think anyone who reads this (if I have readers—just because I am in a humble mode right now) knows that I am actually a Malay, living in the comfort of my home in Malaysia and having my currently inactive social life with my Malay friends who talk in Malay all the time.


found via The Heart of Life ♥

Okay sekarang aku serius berbahasa dalam Bahasa Melayu. Minggu ni, boleh dikatakan agak memeritkan sebab dengan berjayanya abah kesayanganku telah pun memaksa aku sambung balik arr belajar memandu. Berapa lama aku nak renew je lesen L yang takde guna tu kan? So, dengan niat melaksanakan tanggungjawab sebagai anak (kononnyalah~) aku pun bergaya jelah sambung balik belajar memandu setelah dengan selamba badaknya aku suspend pembelajaran automotif aku tu selama enam bulan. Aku memang hebat, terima kasih.

Akhirnya, aku dapat jugak pengajar yang buat aku rasa bolehlah nak berlagak sikit bila tengah pegang stereng kereta kancil merah hak punya sekolah memandu tu. Dah karat rupanya skill memandu aku. Patutlah nak terburai Proton Saga abah aku masa aku dengan selambanya try driving dekat padang dengan adik aku hari itu. Nasib baik tak tercabut tayar. Abah, kakak tak tahulah apa bakal terjadi dengan kereta abah kalau dimurahkan rezeki kakak dapat lesen. Mahunya seminggu sekali masuk bengkel.

Abah cakap aku ada lagi empat jam driving lesson lepas tu kalau okey, boleh buat pra-test and kemudian sambung lagi sikit practice, dah boleh amik test JPJ yang gila bapak punye menakutkan. Kalau ikutkan, aku dah sampai tahap pra-test tu sebenarnya enam bulan lepas. Kalau tak sebab kaki aku yang terbaik nak sakit macam bangang time tu, rasanya tahun lepas lagi aku dah hijack kereta bapak aku bawak pergi The Curve untuk shopping. Alahai, dah nak sakit, nak buat macam mana?

Terus-terang aku cakap, aku langsung tak confident dengan skill memandu aku. Nak dapatkan lesen tu pada aku macam satu kerja gila. Weyh, nak dapatkan A+ dalam portfolio exam lagi kacang dari memandulah. Aku suka thrill bila pegang stereng kereta tu, tapi aku tak sukakan tekanan bila aku kena control segala macam benda dalam kereta tu. Gear nak kena ingat, kelas lagi, minyak lagi, brek lagi. Bak kata pengajar aku hari tu, aku boleh memandu dengan baik, cuma aku ni kelam bin kabut dan sesuka hati aje nak tekan brek ala-ala emergency brake. Kau ingat jalan tu abah kau punya ke, Dyla woi?

Sepanjang minggu ni pulak, Amirul anak buah kesayangan aku demam sampai dua hari tak pergi sekolah. Mak lang hairan, bila time nak pergi sekolah aje kau sakit tapi lepas pukul 2 mak lang tengok Amirul sihat je terjerit macam orang gila dengan Ashraf. Hairan sungguh temperature badan anak buah aku sorang tu. Aku pun, dengan bahagianya menjalankan tanggungjawab sebagai mak nombor dua dia—bagi makan ubat (bukan main nak seksa lagi) lepas tu segala macam benda lagilah yang sepatutnya mak dia yang buat. Mak lang hebatkan, Amirul Akmal?

Cuti tinggal seminggu tapi rasa macam nak extend lagi panjang, boleh tak kolejku? Bukanlah tak suka study tapi tak suka kat kaulah wahai kolej. Beratnya hati nak sambung semester tiga, padahal mama dah gembira gila sebab lagi empat or lima semester, anak perempuan nombor tiga dia dah boleh graduate. Tahun 2011 kakak dah masuk umur 20lah mama. Bagilah kakak sikit masa lagi nak jadi budak kecil dalam family. Bolehkan mama?

Disebabkan aku dengan bergayanya memulakan tahun 2011 tanpa sebarang azam, aku rasa aku nak go with the flow jelah tahun ni. Nak kurus pun, macam tak berkesan je sebab dugaan makanan semenjak mama pencen ni memang sangatlah dashyat. Nak dapatkan lesen, tunggulah lagi beberapa bulan then kita boleh wait and see apa akan jadi. Well, secara keseluruhannya, taklah teruk sangatkan bila berblog dalam bahasa ibunda? Cuma kadang-kadang aku terskema sikit dalam penggunaan bahasa ni. Ni semua influence dari cikgu BM masa form 5 dululah ni.

There goes my life in the past four days in full Malay language. I am considering the choice to blog in Malay rather than in English—since I am more fluent in Malay and my English sucks big time. However, I am giving some consideration in this matter because I need to choose the one language I am comfortable ranting and spamming in.

I am still praying that the wireless connection stays okay until my holiday ends.