the girl
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She's the girl who sits and watches while others live a charmed life. The girl loves to write but doesn't know if she's any good at it. She loves rainbow sprinkled ice cream on a rainy day. She loves to take walks with the wind blowing. Giggling should be made a career. She tells you her secrets in not so many words.
in the past
blog pokes
well-known pokes
Saturday, March 31, 2007 11:11 PM
the color purple.
Purple was never a favorite. The particular color pencil always remained the tallest and the sharpest. Tops of the color always smelled like the departmental store from where it was purchased even if the label says it came home almost a year now.
The color just never sat well. Too strong to blend. Too light to stand out. Nothing could really make it look pretty in the kindy coloring book. It just muddled items together.
But when its the only stationary on the study, and the eyes begin to blur out of concentration, the fingers no longer care if the color isn't scribble-friendly.
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grace kelly. sucking too hard on a lolly. hey! what's the big idea. mika. anberlin. glad. leave. alone. mad. i don't care if i ever talk to you again. bye!
It's really quite easy to scribbledoodle and play pretend that you can draw when the heart is all over the place and the brain only jolts into concentration when the phrase 'divided attention' is within a sentence. So, it's been said that free association is therapeutic and yes, this proved to be somewhat. Is there then physical free association so the headaches and back pains will benefit from the therapeutic experience as well?
~ I'm missing so many pieces of this jigsaw puzzle.
ps: The color purple has now been promoted from 'non-fav' to 'scribble-friendly'.
The color just never sat well. Too strong to blend. Too light to stand out. Nothing could really make it look pretty in the kindy coloring book. It just muddled items together.
But when its the only stationary on the study, and the eyes begin to blur out of concentration, the fingers no longer care if the color isn't scribble-friendly.
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grace kelly. sucking too hard on a lolly. hey! what's the big idea. mika. anberlin. glad. leave. alone. mad. i don't care if i ever talk to you again. bye!It's really quite easy to scribbledoodle and play pretend that you can draw when the heart is all over the place and the brain only jolts into concentration when the phrase 'divided attention' is within a sentence. So, it's been said that free association is therapeutic and yes, this proved to be somewhat. Is there then physical free association so the headaches and back pains will benefit from the therapeutic experience as well?
~ I'm missing so many pieces of this jigsaw puzzle.
ps: The color purple has now been promoted from 'non-fav' to 'scribble-friendly'.
minx wrote at11:11 PM
0 replies
0 replies
Friday, March 30, 2007 8:19 PM
panicked, survived, relieved. wiped out.
One, two, three,...?
Okay, I lost count how many of them addressed me as 'Cikgu'. As Christina pointed out,
"We call them adik-adik and they scream for a Cikgu!"
Will someone get them their Cikgu before they start stampeding us to get to the staff room, please?
It went without saying that nostalgia got the best of most of us when we stepped in. Even if we didn't walk through those hallways with our PMR, SPM or STPM books, it still hit us. I bet it hit a tad harder for Christina since she had walked the halls with a prefect uniform knowing which stairways to take to avoid certain nutto teachers. Yes, school does this to one even if one's schooling days cannot be categorized as the best times of one's life.
Telling young little Form Two girlies that bullying was not cool turned out to be more fun than anyone would have thought. We asked the kids the type(s) of bullying that went on in their school. The answers shocked.
Tarik rambut (pull hair)
Cubit (pinch)
Panggil nama (name-calling)
One answer in particular, got Jessica, Christina and me staring wide-eyed at the girls.
Tarik skirt (skirt-pulling)
Apparently, everyone does this to everyone else. Hands shot up faster than we could ask if anyone in the class had ever done it or had someone do it to them. And where do skirts get pulled up? Out in the open, at the canteen. Whoa! They were even shocked that we were shocked 'cause to them it's so 'normal'.
Okay, we said, if you girls insist.
We did as we practised two weekends ago and managed to get a handful of honest confessions. Of bullying and being bullied. One was just too sad. She was constantly told off for being ugly. She couldn't sit with the others much less talk to them. She nodded painfully with a smile when I asked if it was a real experience. I felt like hugging her and telling her she is pretty, 'cause she was. In so many ways.
I guess ones like her make the nerves, energy and missed spelling quizes worthwhile forgoing. Why Ms. Winnee?!
It rained on the way back to college. Thank you, God! I needed it badly. Not because of the scorching hot weather but for the constant shifting ground underneath me. If it means a rainy day or two, I don't mind if this earthquake keeps on going. Even if it's forever this high on the Richter scale.
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HELP's very own Stonehenge. Got friends coming over for Visit Malaysia Year 2007? Show them that we too have cool prehistoric sites to visit.
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See how pretty a sports medicine center can look?
The rain is just the coolest. Puddles are gifts that force you to see the world around you in a different light. Angle. Everything.
*loves*
Okay, I lost count how many of them addressed me as 'Cikgu'. As Christina pointed out,
"We call them adik-adik and they scream for a Cikgu!"
Will someone get them their Cikgu before they start stampeding us to get to the staff room, please?
It went without saying that nostalgia got the best of most of us when we stepped in. Even if we didn't walk through those hallways with our PMR, SPM or STPM books, it still hit us. I bet it hit a tad harder for Christina since she had walked the halls with a prefect uniform knowing which stairways to take to avoid certain nutto teachers. Yes, school does this to one even if one's schooling days cannot be categorized as the best times of one's life.
Telling young little Form Two girlies that bullying was not cool turned out to be more fun than anyone would have thought. We asked the kids the type(s) of bullying that went on in their school. The answers shocked.
Tarik rambut (pull hair)
Cubit (pinch)
Panggil nama (name-calling)
One answer in particular, got Jessica, Christina and me staring wide-eyed at the girls.
Tarik skirt (skirt-pulling)
Apparently, everyone does this to everyone else. Hands shot up faster than we could ask if anyone in the class had ever done it or had someone do it to them. And where do skirts get pulled up? Out in the open, at the canteen. Whoa! They were even shocked that we were shocked 'cause to them it's so 'normal'.
Okay, we said, if you girls insist.
We did as we practised two weekends ago and managed to get a handful of honest confessions. Of bullying and being bullied. One was just too sad. She was constantly told off for being ugly. She couldn't sit with the others much less talk to them. She nodded painfully with a smile when I asked if it was a real experience. I felt like hugging her and telling her she is pretty, 'cause she was. In so many ways.
I guess ones like her make the nerves, energy and missed spelling quizes worthwhile forgoing. Why Ms. Winnee?!
It rained on the way back to college. Thank you, God! I needed it badly. Not because of the scorching hot weather but for the constant shifting ground underneath me. If it means a rainy day or two, I don't mind if this earthquake keeps on going. Even if it's forever this high on the Richter scale.
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This is the legendary deck that I could spend my endless waiting hours on if only the old horny uncles would stop bugging the living daylights out of me. -_-"
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HELP's very own Stonehenge. Got friends coming over for Visit Malaysia Year 2007? Show them that we too have cool prehistoric sites to visit..jpg)
See how pretty a sports medicine center can look?The rain is just the coolest. Puddles are gifts that force you to see the world around you in a different light. Angle. Everything.
*loves*
minx wrote at8:19 PM
0 replies
0 replies
Monday, March 26, 2007 8:55 PM
The warmth of freshly printed pages never gets old no matter how many times you attempt an assignment. To think your words, the one you rehearsed repeatedly in your head over the last month are the same words you see transforming 18 pages of clean white sheets into a thick bind with your name printed at the very top.
This is what you stayed up until 5am for. This is the reason you had to watch a delayed episode of Grey's. And forgo multiple meals with the family.
Yes, one major assignment is done. And for a lecturer that functions only by two terms; perfection and passion.
Another one's due in two weeks.
I'm trying to bribe the mind with the 'assignment-done-satisfaction' to get things going.
But of course, this can only mean more locked doors, appetite loss and under-the-door-notes.
Oh, the joy.
This is what you stayed up until 5am for. This is the reason you had to watch a delayed episode of Grey's. And forgo multiple meals with the family.
Yes, one major assignment is done. And for a lecturer that functions only by two terms; perfection and passion.
Another one's due in two weeks.
I'm trying to bribe the mind with the 'assignment-done-satisfaction' to get things going.
But of course, this can only mean more locked doors, appetite loss and under-the-door-notes.
Oh, the joy.
minx wrote at8:55 PM
1 replies
1 replies
Saturday, March 24, 2007 2:41 PM
i've got mail.
She called two days ago to set a date for when 'someone' would be at home to sign for it. Funny, I thought. What could be so important that they couldn't leave a call-back card. She even wanted to have it sent to me when I was at college. No courier company has ever wanted to do this for a letter. After digging up on my schedule, she decided with a hint of put on cheeriness that Saturday would have to be the wonderful day that I should expect a knock on my front door.
I lingered on her voice for a few minutes after the call. I couldn't get over the fact that I didn't bother to get her name or wish her a good day. She simply remained the voice that I thanked for the above compromise.
And then this morning in the middle of wiping away at tears and snort from the spiciness of a bowl of noodles, the front door vibrated with a strong, hard knock. (like want to break down my door like that!)
He stood there looking annoyed. I wished him a good morning but he didnt return it instead he asked for the name on the envelope. Yes, me, I said while pulling at my oversized grey tee. I wasn't in the most flattering condition what with the tons of used kleenex at hand, but I dare say that that isn't reason to think that I couldn't sign for my own letter.
Whats this lah.
He copied my name from the envelope ignoring my spelling. Whoa, don't trust I can spell my own name issit?
So, I mogok, don't want to say 'have a nice day'. But I couldn't stop the 'thank you' from coming out. Too used to it already.
The logo in the corner made my heart go funny. I didn't even hear when the Daddums asked why was my boyfriend at the door.
It has been a few hours since I tugged at the contents of the envelope. I'm now a Ms. Tiffany. So weird okay.
I have a research proposal due Monday but I keep fingering the envelope. I have yet to sign it. The Daddums insist that I should get on with it so he can take it to the post office tonight but that would mean one part of it would go away and never come back. That's very very sad.
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I lingered on her voice for a few minutes after the call. I couldn't get over the fact that I didn't bother to get her name or wish her a good day. She simply remained the voice that I thanked for the above compromise.
And then this morning in the middle of wiping away at tears and snort from the spiciness of a bowl of noodles, the front door vibrated with a strong, hard knock. (like want to break down my door like that!)
He stood there looking annoyed. I wished him a good morning but he didnt return it instead he asked for the name on the envelope. Yes, me, I said while pulling at my oversized grey tee. I wasn't in the most flattering condition what with the tons of used kleenex at hand, but I dare say that that isn't reason to think that I couldn't sign for my own letter.
Whats this lah.
He copied my name from the envelope ignoring my spelling. Whoa, don't trust I can spell my own name issit?
So, I mogok, don't want to say 'have a nice day'. But I couldn't stop the 'thank you' from coming out. Too used to it already.
The logo in the corner made my heart go funny. I didn't even hear when the Daddums asked why was my boyfriend at the door.
It has been a few hours since I tugged at the contents of the envelope. I'm now a Ms. Tiffany. So weird okay.
I have a research proposal due Monday but I keep fingering the envelope. I have yet to sign it. The Daddums insist that I should get on with it so he can take it to the post office tonight but that would mean one part of it would go away and never come back. That's very very sad.
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So, I made teddyglowydarling guard it while I type away on the proposal.
Please, please, I wana keep it somemore, can?
Please, please, I wana keep it somemore, can?
minx wrote at2:41 PM
2 replies
2 replies
Thursday, March 22, 2007 6:51 PM
when there's no one there beside you.
It's not because they don't want to be there with you, beside you. They just can't afford to. Or they can but they won't.
They could always try but they don't.
Who are we all kidding? Why do we try to rationalize that that we know we can't? Why does it intrigue us so much when we know we can't ever find a legible answer?
You say it's selfish, that it's wrong to even wonder. But how can you not?
There's bound to be a time when you look around and the silence of the darkness is all that stays faithful with you. The thoughts that run through your mind then sound so loud, it's as if you're saying it aloud. Heck, you could scream it and no one would even know. The silence sometimes bothers so much. A reminder that someday soon, you could lose this that you have and the exchange is simply reciprocated with silence.
There was you who insisted that there was such a thing as comfortable silence and a few came to the same conclusion. Maybe there is such a thing. Maybe there isn't. It doesn't seem right to remain silent when it is next to never that you meet or talk. But that's another story for another time.
Yes, yes, when you've been doing 'alone' since forever, you tend to adapt to the situation. Find ways to reason that you are not alone. Or that there really isn't an 'alone'.
The issue isn't about wanting a significant other that you hug or look to when you feel like a good pamper. It's about the basic issue of being without anyone there beside you.
Zero. Nil. Zilch.
What's there is just you and the darkness. Echoing thoughts that no one hear. You become your own companion, your huckleberry friend and everything in between.
So, you say something like that could never happen. Fine, it is a tad bit overrated but it does happen.
When you sit in the armchair while everyone is tucked up in bed. Including the cat.
When you slave on your work and it doesn't make a dent.
When there are muffled voices and laughter outside your locked door.
When you feel like throwing up and you do but no one knows or let alone care.
When you perpetually lose your apetite.
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When you wait for a heartbeat to reaffirm that you are alive.
They could always try but they don't.
Who are we all kidding? Why do we try to rationalize that that we know we can't? Why does it intrigue us so much when we know we can't ever find a legible answer?
You say it's selfish, that it's wrong to even wonder. But how can you not?
There's bound to be a time when you look around and the silence of the darkness is all that stays faithful with you. The thoughts that run through your mind then sound so loud, it's as if you're saying it aloud. Heck, you could scream it and no one would even know. The silence sometimes bothers so much. A reminder that someday soon, you could lose this that you have and the exchange is simply reciprocated with silence.
There was you who insisted that there was such a thing as comfortable silence and a few came to the same conclusion. Maybe there is such a thing. Maybe there isn't. It doesn't seem right to remain silent when it is next to never that you meet or talk. But that's another story for another time.
Yes, yes, when you've been doing 'alone' since forever, you tend to adapt to the situation. Find ways to reason that you are not alone. Or that there really isn't an 'alone'.
The issue isn't about wanting a significant other that you hug or look to when you feel like a good pamper. It's about the basic issue of being without anyone there beside you.
Zero. Nil. Zilch.
What's there is just you and the darkness. Echoing thoughts that no one hear. You become your own companion, your huckleberry friend and everything in between.
So, you say something like that could never happen. Fine, it is a tad bit overrated but it does happen.
When you sit in the armchair while everyone is tucked up in bed. Including the cat.
When you slave on your work and it doesn't make a dent.
When there are muffled voices and laughter outside your locked door.
When you feel like throwing up and you do but no one knows or let alone care.
When you perpetually lose your apetite.
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minx wrote at6:51 PM
1 replies
1 replies
Tuesday, March 20, 2007 8:19 PM
freeze!
I need a timeout. A freeze-over zone pass.
I want to slouch in the armchair hugging the red pillows and talk to my sister about her mad-mad life without having an incessant conscience nagging about deadlines.
I haven't sat in the living room for more than an hour, this past week put together.
I miss my favorite spot, favorite boyfriend/husband pillow and my family.
Everyday I camp out in the study, trying to get things done. And I do mean literally camp.
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I want to slouch in the armchair hugging the red pillows and talk to my sister about her mad-mad life without having an incessant conscience nagging about deadlines.
I haven't sat in the living room for more than an hour, this past week put together.
I miss my favorite spot, favorite boyfriend/husband pillow and my family.
Everyday I camp out in the study, trying to get things done. And I do mean literally camp.
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Yes, with a sleeping bag. From saying good night to a living, breathing, continuously trying to see if you're awake sister to greeting my books and study materials a few hours of sleep. Good night doesn't necessarily apply because sleeping bag time isn't necessarily at night.
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The sister leaves me notes under the locked door to tell me things. Sad but adorable.
I need one weekend. Okay, maybe two whole days is pushing it. One afternoon, that is all I ask.
Free of journals, phone alarms, finals-scare, and college.
Is that too much to ask?
Who am I kidding? Of course, it is.
Darnnit.
I need one weekend. Okay, maybe two whole days is pushing it. One afternoon, that is all I ask.
Free of journals, phone alarms, finals-scare, and college.
Is that too much to ask?
Who am I kidding? Of course, it is.
Darnnit.
minx wrote at8:19 PM
0 replies
0 replies
Saturday, March 17, 2007 6:18 PM
the f-word.
Surprise, surprise, there is even an f-word in Psychology. The word is even made up of four alphabets, like its counterpart. So what's the word, you ask?
frus.
Haha.
frus.
Haha.
. . . .
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EDIT: First time ever to a club also happened today.
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Returned home gaining a new friend (at least I'd like to think so), forgetting to order the complimentary coke, smelling like a few thousand smokers blew smoke in my face and being bullied by the photographer.
Uh oh, don't forget the brand new playlist from the wonderful-amazing-coolness underground bands ever.
When you go to Maison Club at Jalan Sultan Ismail in KL, look out for the bouncer. Man, the guy is hugeee.
And, no Chris, you cannot make my super-megaly-out-of-this-world-can-die chunted envelope with the gazilion cool designed stuffs your property. *sticks out tongue* But I'll bring for you whenever needed so you can get inspired. Hehe. I'll love you lots more if your art begins to resemble the designs. Hee.
Uh oh, don't forget the brand new playlist from the wonderful-amazing-coolness underground bands ever.
When you go to Maison Club at Jalan Sultan Ismail in KL, look out for the bouncer. Man, the guy is hugeee.
And, no Chris, you cannot make my super-megaly-out-of-this-world-can-die chunted envelope with the gazilion cool designed stuffs your property. *sticks out tongue* But I'll bring for you whenever needed so you can get inspired. Hehe. I'll love you lots more if your art begins to resemble the designs. Hee.
minx wrote at6:18 PM
1 replies
1 replies
Friday, March 16, 2007 7:59 PM
he's a VJ?
He's an MTV VJ that sneaks out to lecture during his free time.
He messes with your brain with crazy experiment demonstrations and laughs when you succumb to the proven results.
He weans you off of him with disgustingly scanty notes and impromptu quizes.
He'll even make your salivary gland work on overtime by devouring Timeouts halfway through lecture.
He's none other than Dr. Goh, the coolest psychologist cum VJ cum lecturer.
*end of commentary*
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He messes with your brain with crazy experiment demonstrations and laughs when you succumb to the proven results.
He weans you off of him with disgustingly scanty notes and impromptu quizes.
He'll even make your salivary gland work on overtime by devouring Timeouts halfway through lecture.
He's none other than Dr. Goh, the coolest psychologist cum VJ cum lecturer.
*end of commentary*
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Yes lah, my PSY103 lecturer greets us every Friday morning with an MTV microphone in hand. This man, my dearests, is the head of the faculty of behavioral sciences okay. How cool is that? He's the tiniest little man but don't let his size fool you because he has the biggest information storage in his brain.
He wears the cutest sweaters and jackets, all of which I deduce were from his study days in New Zealand. The man is sure is capable of grabbing your attention even on megaly dry subjects but sometimes three hours at 9am on the last college day of the week just makes it hard to focus.
So, I sure am glad he nicked his microphone from MTV. It helps me, at least, to smile once in a while imagining him trying to host an episode of 'After School Rock'.
Three cheers for the microphone and the person who took it from it's rightful owner.
Mwahahaha.
He wears the cutest sweaters and jackets, all of which I deduce were from his study days in New Zealand. The man is sure is capable of grabbing your attention even on megaly dry subjects but sometimes three hours at 9am on the last college day of the week just makes it hard to focus.
So, I sure am glad he nicked his microphone from MTV. It helps me, at least, to smile once in a while imagining him trying to host an episode of 'After School Rock'.
Three cheers for the microphone and the person who took it from it's rightful owner.
Mwahahaha.
minx wrote at7:59 PM
0 replies
0 replies
Thursday, March 15, 2007 10:48 PM
echoes daphne.
Sigh...
This blog is about little Siti Aisya Syazreen, a 3-and-a-half-year-old who has got no eyes, literally...Little Aisya suffers from a very rare syndrome called Fraser Syndrome, where children born have got no eyelids, and some even with no eyes...
Darling Aisya is one such little girl...
Her story appeared in The Star on the 24th December, 2006 (StarMag):-
http://thestar.com.my/lifestyle/story.asp?file=/2006/12/24/lifefocus/16111130&sec=lifefocus
When I first met Aisya, I was shocked, and I was overwhelmed...Honestly, I wanted to just reach out and hug her, but I was also afraid...Afraid that if I did that, I would be hurting this little girl, who looked so fragile, her body might snap in half if I so much as touched her...I was afraid, because I had never seen someone like her before...
Aisya's dad is the only one working in the family, and he recently lost his job...You can just imagine how difficult it is. Raising children is never easy, but with an extremely special child like Aisya, a stable income is all the more neccesary...
Inti International College Penang has taken the initiative to raise some money for her within the circle of students...Final results have not been finalised yet...
I am appealing to anyone out that who has some extra to spare to think of little Aisya and her family...It doesn't have to be big; remember, as cliche as it is, it's the thought that counts...Every gesture will help...
Think people, how would you feel if you cannot see, and cannot hear well? Think how you feel if everywhere you go, people are afraid of you? Think how you would feel if even your hands look different?
Because that is what Aisya is going through everyday...She can't see, she can't hear well, and even her fingers are deformed...
I am appealing to the human side of all those out that: Spare your change for little Aisya...
I can be contacted at 016-5422774 for further details on how to contribute to the family...I won't be dealing with any of your money as I will put you in touch with the family directly.
Cheerio...
This blog is about little Siti Aisya Syazreen, a 3-and-a-half-year-old who has got no eyes, literally...Little Aisya suffers from a very rare syndrome called Fraser Syndrome, where children born have got no eyelids, and some even with no eyes...
Darling Aisya is one such little girl...
Her story appeared in The Star on the 24th December, 2006 (StarMag):-
http://thestar.com.my/lifestyle/story.asp?file=/2006/12/24/lifefocus/16111130&sec=lifefocus
When I first met Aisya, I was shocked, and I was overwhelmed...Honestly, I wanted to just reach out and hug her, but I was also afraid...Afraid that if I did that, I would be hurting this little girl, who looked so fragile, her body might snap in half if I so much as touched her...I was afraid, because I had never seen someone like her before...
Aisya's dad is the only one working in the family, and he recently lost his job...You can just imagine how difficult it is. Raising children is never easy, but with an extremely special child like Aisya, a stable income is all the more neccesary...
Inti International College Penang has taken the initiative to raise some money for her within the circle of students...Final results have not been finalised yet...
I am appealing to anyone out that who has some extra to spare to think of little Aisya and her family...It doesn't have to be big; remember, as cliche as it is, it's the thought that counts...Every gesture will help...
Think people, how would you feel if you cannot see, and cannot hear well? Think how you feel if everywhere you go, people are afraid of you? Think how you would feel if even your hands look different?
Because that is what Aisya is going through everyday...She can't see, she can't hear well, and even her fingers are deformed...
I am appealing to the human side of all those out that: Spare your change for little Aisya...
I can be contacted at 016-5422774 for further details on how to contribute to the family...I won't be dealing with any of your money as I will put you in touch with the family directly.
Cheerio...
. . . . .
Text by Daphne Ling. Kudos Daphne dearest for trying your best to make a difference in little Aisya's life.
minx wrote at10:48 PM
0 replies
0 replies
Tuesday, March 13, 2007 10:06 PM
point of no return.
After talking about it to everyone I could possibly think of. And playing mind games with the good and bad of doing it. And analyzing every single detail of the picture. And then weighing it again during the dreadful half an hour walk around the mall.
i did it.
It's done with. It's finally short.
Ala Ashlee Simpson before-my-sister-hypnotised-my-stylist? I don't know.
But now I've got the jitters. My first mighty crowded class with the new cut jitters.
I like it-ish. I just hope I don't have to tame it with the inevitable 'thingo' like the stylist said I would.
*crosses fingers and toes and whats left of the hair and urm...everything else*
Cross them with me, can?
edit: I had my fists clenched all throughout the cut. The stylist was darn violent - he simply pull my hair up with a comb and chopchopchop. Scary okay!
i did it.
It's done with. It's finally short.
Ala Ashlee Simpson before-my-sister-hypnotised-my-stylist? I don't know.
But now I've got the jitters. My first mighty crowded class with the new cut jitters.
I like it-ish. I just hope I don't have to tame it with the inevitable 'thingo' like the stylist said I would.
*crosses fingers and toes and whats left of the hair and urm...everything else*
Cross them with me, can?
edit: I had my fists clenched all throughout the cut. The stylist was darn violent - he simply pull my hair up with a comb and chopchopchop. Scary okay!
minx wrote at10:06 PM
0 replies
0 replies
Monday, March 12, 2007 5:30 AM
dawn musings.
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I've heard the dawn prayers a million times before but it never sounds better than when you're up and you've actually finished something.You hold it in your chest, waiting to tell someone you've actually done something despite it being ridiculously early in the day.
It's amazing how much time 400 words could take to write when you really want to make a difference in someone else's life. When you make it a point to fit your feet in their well-worn sneakers even if it is two sizes too huge.
That, and when you have a truckload of issues waiting to be dealt with yourself.
And then, her fingers search for the switch to the study lamp amidst the tangle of plugs and cables and papers. Knowing a soft touch would do the trick, she holds the switch tightly until her hand turns white, weighing the probable and improbable. Her hope only lingers for a moment before darkness takes charge of the room, leaving her to thoughts that threaten to stage a rebellion.
minx wrote at5:30 AM
0 replies
0 replies
Sunday, March 11, 2007 4:04 PM
friday's quota
I had a great deal of driving to do on Friday what with the Daddums going away for a meeting.
Since I'm such a sucker for anything white, I drove to the very end of the parking lot towards a tree with pretty white flowers and made sure my car was within the yellow parking lines. It would be such a shame to have the car not properly aligned when it was under such a beauty.
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Can see the flowers, not? Pretty right. The pink ones were nothing compared to these so it was worth my while to drive to the very end even if there were spots right in front. =D
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I was hoping for a few generous gifts from the tree but they were wilted by the time I could come see them when my classes ended at 3. The weather had to be real darn hot on Friday lah.
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And then when I drove to go get the Mumsie, it rained uber heavily.
There is nothing more therapeutic when it rains and Postal Service is playing on a loop on your iPod and the wipers are making their routine swipes on the windscreen, swishing the rain off.
Everything looks a great deal better through the rain. Everything.
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Finally had an hour's worth of talk with the godbrother. Over a milo ais 'kao' that lacked it's 'kao' so much, it tasted like sugar water. Swapped stories, forced down stuff that tasted like other stuff and left before the parental unit could scare the living daylights out of him. XD
Friday's quota was a mish mash.
A mish mash that nudged me off a cliff for it's tomorrow and the tomorrows to come.
Since I'm such a sucker for anything white, I drove to the very end of the parking lot towards a tree with pretty white flowers and made sure my car was within the yellow parking lines. It would be such a shame to have the car not properly aligned when it was under such a beauty.
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Can see the flowers, not? Pretty right. The pink ones were nothing compared to these so it was worth my while to drive to the very end even if there were spots right in front. =D.jpg)
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I was hoping for a few generous gifts from the tree but they were wilted by the time I could come see them when my classes ended at 3. The weather had to be real darn hot on Friday lah..jpg)
And then when I drove to go get the Mumsie, it rained uber heavily. There is nothing more therapeutic when it rains and Postal Service is playing on a loop on your iPod and the wipers are making their routine swipes on the windscreen, swishing the rain off.
Everything looks a great deal better through the rain. Everything.
.jpg)
Finally had an hour's worth of talk with the godbrother. Over a milo ais 'kao' that lacked it's 'kao' so much, it tasted like sugar water. Swapped stories, forced down stuff that tasted like other stuff and left before the parental unit could scare the living daylights out of him. XDFriday's quota was a mish mash.
A mish mash that nudged me off a cliff for it's tomorrow and the tomorrows to come.
minx wrote at4:04 PM
0 replies
0 replies
Thursday, March 08, 2007 8:55 PM
I searched for a rainbow yesterday.
I got a glimpse of the end.
And then it faded away.
Even before I started my count to seven.
Catch me a rainbow. A different sort. The kind that you should think I love.
And I'll fall down on my knees. Hug you 'till you can't breathe. Feed you a milliongazillion white Toblerones.
To tell you I lovelovelove you.
I got a glimpse of the end.
And then it faded away.
Even before I started my count to seven.
Catch me a rainbow. A different sort. The kind that you should think I love.
And I'll fall down on my knees. Hug you 'till you can't breathe. Feed you a milliongazillion white Toblerones.
To tell you I lovelovelove you.
minx wrote at8:55 PM
0 replies
0 replies
Monday, March 05, 2007 10:26 PM
i can drive lah.
And this is how yet another post hides away in the safe haven of my drafts.
.....
Me: Arghargh. I need a parking coupon or I'll have to fork up lots of cash I don't have for parking. Diee.
Me: Arghargh. I need a parking coupon or I'll have to fork up lots of cash I don't have for parking. Diee.
Angelyn: You drove today?
Me: *nods* You know anybody I can bug?
silence.
silence.
Angelyn: You drove?
Me: -_-
Me: *nods* You know anybody I can bug?
silence.
silence.
Angelyn: You drove?
Me: -_-
.....
Me: Eh, you think I should do the In-house seminar review for Dr. Goh while you go for your experiment? Then I could prolly send you back! *grins*
Ameza: All the way to my condo? Wait, you drove?
Me: Yeahhh! Want? Want!
Ameza: But after you'll get lost getting back home. Better not risk it. Another time only okay?
Me: Alarhh. I'll be okay. We go home together okay?
Ameza: Don't want lah. So dangerous!
Me: -_-
Ameza: All the way to my condo? Wait, you drove?
Me: Yeahhh! Want? Want!
Ameza: But after you'll get lost getting back home. Better not risk it. Another time only okay?
Me: Alarhh. I'll be okay. We go home together okay?
Ameza: Don't want lah. So dangerous!
Me: -_-
.....
Sadness okay!My friends don't think I can steer a car in the right direction. One thinks I'm too nice to be allowed on the road because "...all the other cars will cut into your lane nicely" and I'll just let them. She even demonstrated my allowing them in with a huge grin and an overly exaggerated hand gesture. Angelyn says I'm too nice to drive on KL roads. The other one is too traumatized by my banging skills to trust me to drive myself home.
Even arguing that I've been driving my bound-by-blood-so-they-can't-abandon-me family everywhere didn't cut it. What's this lah? I'm NOT nice. Especially on the roads.
Come to think of it, that is always the reaction I get when I tell people I drive or try to hypnotise them into dropping their keys into my palms. The relatives are excusable 'cause they have seen me running around mad covered with chocolate stains and the transition is urm...hard? But those of you who have been spared of this, there. is. no. valid. excuse. I drive just fine!
Oh, nevermind. This is another one of those things that you just have to see.
I promise I'll be uber safe when you're in the car. Really. Unless of course some mad drivers get in the way then, well, it's out of my hands. I'll even have my hands at 10 o'clock and 2 o'clock.
Lemme drive you somewhere okay? Then we can listen to crazy mad songs and headbang while making up crazy stories of the songwriter and his lyrics with the windows wound down and drive megaly slow when someone tailgates us. And not care if we don't have enough gas to reach wherever or if the map book thingo just flew out the window. Or if we're starving raving hungry 'cause thank the heavens for drive-thrus. We'll go drive-thru hopping and order and cancel and order some more and cancel and laugh as the attendant pretends to drop down and cry so we can apologise and compensate his trauma by not returning when it's his turn to work the window.
Nice, no?
Lets!
Even arguing that I've been driving my bound-by-blood-so-they-can't-abandon-me family everywhere didn't cut it. What's this lah? I'm NOT nice. Especially on the roads.
Come to think of it, that is always the reaction I get when I tell people I drive or try to hypnotise them into dropping their keys into my palms. The relatives are excusable 'cause they have seen me running around mad covered with chocolate stains and the transition is urm...hard? But those of you who have been spared of this, there. is. no. valid. excuse. I drive just fine!
Oh, nevermind. This is another one of those things that you just have to see.
I promise I'll be uber safe when you're in the car. Really. Unless of course some mad drivers get in the way then, well, it's out of my hands. I'll even have my hands at 10 o'clock and 2 o'clock.
Lemme drive you somewhere okay? Then we can listen to crazy mad songs and headbang while making up crazy stories of the songwriter and his lyrics with the windows wound down and drive megaly slow when someone tailgates us. And not care if we don't have enough gas to reach wherever or if the map book thingo just flew out the window. Or if we're starving raving hungry 'cause thank the heavens for drive-thrus. We'll go drive-thru hopping and order and cancel and order some more and cancel and laugh as the attendant pretends to drop down and cry so we can apologise and compensate his trauma by not returning when it's his turn to work the window.
Nice, no?
Lets!
minx wrote at10:26 PM
0 replies
0 replies
Sunday, March 04, 2007 5:53 PM