Black

I am desperate. I would do anything to get my knee back to normal. 6 months have passed since the arthroscopy. I am recovering, Alhamdulillah. But it's not as fast I want it to be.

My workout list the past 5 days:

• Sunday - Hiking at Bukit Saga
• Monday - Rest due to migrain
• Tuesday - Body Attack and Leg workout
• Wednesday - Zumba

And today, Thursday, my right knee has been throbbing like HELL. Saddest part is I can't tell anyone about it because they would just make me stop all my routines. And..and... last Sunday was my first hike. Can't say that I'm not proud of myself. I made it to and fro safely without a scratch *tap on the shoulder*. Unfortunately, I made a mistake during bodyattack class. I confidently did burpees and hurt my knee since (it was already so sore from the hike). For a second, I thought I was Superwoman! LoL. 

Oh you knee, let me have my life back. 

Just

Things that I wanna do and things that I need to do often conflicted. 

Or the things that I want and the things that I need. 

What I need is to be someone who is far from what I am presently. The person that I need to be lives a little far from worldly things. Like the clothes I currently don or the food places I usually go. A woman who is pious, a wife with a husband who would take the adventurous journey to Jannah, together. And kids. Yeah of course there would be kids. Two or three. 

But, I wanna be among my unmarried friends, have fun, travel the world with less responsibilities. No kids to hustle me down, no parents to worry about, no problems to care of. A carefree life. Where would that bring me though. Surely, God doesn't approve half of the things that I want. 

And if God doesn't condone it then my mission to Jannah would be .... non existent. Perished. Ka poof. 

Turning 30 scares me shitless. And I'm about 6 months away from there. I never cared much about how old I've aged except now. I guess I've always imagined that by 30 I'd be someone's legal partner, be successful, have my own business, have at least travelled quarter through the globe. I kid you not, I'm wayyyyy off the acceptable general life target.

Most of the time I don't mind where I am now. But other times, peer pressure memang no joke siot.

Like I said. Conflicted. 

Blog

Turns out, sitting long hours in front of the computer screen is no longer something I would enjoy. Ironically, that was something I didn't mind doing during my teenage life (age of 14 to 20ish). I'd spend the night til the next noon exchanging nonsense via mirc, ym, msn and blogs. Did I mention I was using dial-up internet then?

Of course there was also the backache that I had to endure. But hey, anything for some puppy love and virtual best friends right?

Being said that, it's now a huge commitment to spend just minutes to update a blog. I mean, I'd rather be spending it on reading instead.  I've even stopped watching all my TV series. It's been on halt for quite a while, and I used to call myself a TV series buff. Shame on me? Not quite.

Ok go to. I'm 100 pages left on Paper Town by John Green. Ciao.

Missed

So there's this guy I'm seeing. Well of course there's a guy.

I've met him the first time last night for iftar. I guess you could say that it was a date. More or less.

But here's the thing, i keep saying the wrong things. Like as if i can't shut this big mouth of mine.

Fuck.

Misery to Happiness

O my God, whenever You bestow a favour upon me, my appreciation thereof is minute; and whenever You afflict me with tribulation, my patience is short-lived. O One Whom though my appreciation of His favour is minute, He did not humiliate me, O One with Who though my patience is short-lived at His trial He did not punish me. O One Who sees me while in sin and does not expose me, O One Who removed me my hurt, to You be praise, You are the Bestower of Favour and to You is grace. 

Amin ya Rabb.

Me Before You

I'm the sort of person who tries not to watch movies (in cinema) during Ramadhan, which means, I am left with 4 days to date. Hence, the me-time-Me-Before-You-movie-session last night. You have to know I skipped gym for this! GYM! In the middle of NNGG!

I picked up Me Before You (novel) just a couple of weeks back. An easy read chic lit I managed to finish in 2 days. It's not my usual reading choice, but I figured to give a go since everyone else is reading it. Plus, the reviews are not bad either. 

I got hooked immediately after the first page. And just between me and you, I almost weeped on the final page.  Crying is my least favourite emotion. I'm not sure if it's fear or just plainly ego, but I'll try my very best to keep my waterworks clogged in. So I could say, this is partly the reason I stopped reading romance novels some time after 20. Booyah.

The impossible romance between Lou and Will arouses me in ways that I can't explain. It brings me fantasies that I can never imagine to have myself. But of course I am not talking about coition (if you have seen or read it, you'd know it's PG13). It's... ah.... I just can't put it into words. I don't feel this way often. The feelings are almost similar to The Time Traveller's Wife by Audry Niffenegger.

The most memorable part of the novel is when Lou freaked out in the maze and Will tried to calm her down.  He got so frustrated because his hands weren't moving to cuddle and comfort her as he desperately wanted to. Jojo Moyes succeeded in imposing deep emotions to the story. Unfortunately enough, the movie skipped that scene entirely. 

The movie also failed to complement Lou's effort in her researches and plans for Will. God, there's so much to the novel that the movie's not showing. But, I should've expected it. It's always the case on movie adaptions. 

All I could say is, if you haven't read it, READ IT NOW. Wth are you waiting for?

Contention

I have lack of skills in story telling. I use a lot of 'and then' or 'pastu' or 'so' and I won't know which points are worthy and interesting which usually ends up with me elaborating every bits of details, which I know, is boring and childish.

Here's an example. 

Last weekend I was back at my hometown, Singapore for Yana's wedding. This possibly could be one of the few moments for me to be absolutely envious in having a partner. To be honest, I do not know Mas Iwan personally, neither have I spoken to him directly before (to be fair, even Yana has only  met him merely 6 times before the wedding). Their courtship is somewhat strange in the traditional sense but almost hackneyed in this modern age. In short, they became friends via internet. He was in Mecca and she's in Singapore. 

Generally, Mas Iwan is the kind of husband a muslim girl would want. A decent guy, humbled with knowledge of the Quran. Yana didn't just get a husband, she got herself an imam and ustadz too. Alhamdulillah. 

I want that too. But additionally, I need someone who is active and be in the same game as I am. And I don't just want a teacher of religion, I want a teacher of life and languages. If I ever been given the choice to choose a race for a husband, I would absolutely skip my own race, not because I'm too proud for my own kind... Let me see if I can put this in an non offensive way.... I'd like to diversify. The world is too big to stick to just one option. Knowledge, culture, experience.... all that. 

And here I am mumbling about a partner in life when my initial intention was to share the bad experience I encountered in Singapore. 

It was my first day there. Ma, Qassih and I decided to take a walk outside our apartment to get food and to settle some other important stuff.  It was at 112 Katong shopping mall when I saw a basket of red plums as big as my fist. I took 2 pieces, one for Qassih and another for myself. I scout for the weighing counter but to no avail. I couldn't even find the transparent plastik sayur! So with the 2 plums in each hand, I walked to the cashier which was quite a walk from the fruits section. 

Ahead of me in the line was just one customer, so I thought, hey why not ask the cashier. She should know where the weighing counter's at. Let me give you an image of the customer before we go deeper into my  WTF story. She has an obese body figure, wearing polo shirt and a pair of shorts, short boyish hair cut with big boobs and an aunty but also a tomboy.  

Me: Excuse me Miss, do you know if I need to weigh.....

Aunty: *with the talk-to-the-hand gesture to my face* You don't disturb her. Let her focus on mine. You wait your turn. 

Me: But I only wanna ask if....

Aunty: NO. YOU WAIT. 

The cashier and I gave each other a look and just smiled. We both silently understood that this Aunty's a bitch. Few minutes had passed and the Aunty was still standing in the queue waiting for her turn to be done. The cashier had issues with Aunty's membership card and hence the shop manager was intercom-ed to come over. Whilst they were busy with her card, the Aunty turned to me with what I thought an apologetic look.

Aunty: I don't want you to interrupt her because later she confused with my items. Let her focus on her job.

Me: *with an absolute friendly smile* No, I actually just want to ask, if you would know if I......

Aunty: NO. I. DONT. *turned away from Ms Innocent me*

I got so confused with the whole situation. I really thought she was feeling some guilt. And when the manager was done and walked by us.....

Aunty: You go ask her whatever you wanna ask. You ask her now. You dont ask the cashier. You ask her. *with her arrogant face on*

And so I did. My conclusion to the whole situation is that she's a typical kiasu Singaporean (she even packed one apple each in one transparent plastic sayur. She bought SIX!) who's going through a rough time. I wonder what was playing in her mind at the time. Pity. 

Six Years Later

I don't know how to write. Although part of my job descriptions requires me to write on a daily basis. That didn't happen.

It's either I really don't know how to write or I've lost touch on it. An optimist would choose the latter, whilst a pessimist would go for the former. And I think you know which side I am at. No? Keep on reading and you'll find your answer.

I stopped writing both blog and twitter a million years back because when I hit the words, I am always brought to the dark side. Not deliberately I must say. So often I get carried away in my own thoughts that I start to build up this transparent orb around me and fill it up with dark gas.

Why gas you ask? Because gas is something you can't see but feel. Inhale too much of it, it becomes fatal. And that's me and my feelings. And I would rather not go there. Depression is my own struggle. An islamist would choose Jihad, Self Jihad. 

Then why start again? Mainly because I need somewhere to discard my emotions but also because I need to practice my writing, for my career. Not to mention that I have people, well, friends who have been pushing me to write again. So here it is. My first post after YEARS. Obviously, I am no longer 23 (read the profile -->)

Got to go now. I have gym to go to. Yes, I have grown to be a real adventure enthusiast. No, I do not have a beach bod. I have flabby arms and saggy ass but I am fit (....to my standard. Screw you.)

Toodles. 

Four Years Later

If you're reading this it means that you're checking out my blog.






Curiousity kills ey?



Surprisingly, I had 2 more abandoned blogs which I clearly had no sort of memories about. How many blogs do a girl need exactly?