Shumatsu

I’ve been tagged and classified as emo by Noktah Hitam x)

Generally, I like the weekends.

Back in primary school, weekends meant two things: cartoons and the library. I know, I’m such a nerd :p

Back in high school, weekends meant three things: cartoons, the library AND shopping. I was still addicted to the cartoons they showed in the mornings. I was also beginning to have an obsession with Japanese anime around this time. I went trinket shopping almost every weekend (thinking back, where did I get money for those trips?). And yes, I frequent the library still.

My years in UiTM saw me looking forward for weekends. I get to go home, sleep on my own bed and have no chores. It was the time to watch Astro reruns and go to concerts. I get to go to my aunt’s place in TTDI too (family gossips exchange and good foof). In difficult times, it was also a chance to do the heaps of assignments and studying for tests.

Post-UiTM-Pre-First-Job, my weekends usually spent at home and being domesticated by DivaMom :p Saturday mornings are for chores (go to Pasar Keramat, do laundry and cook), afternoons spent supervising LilSis in doing her homework. Sundays are usually spent with the family; Opah’s in the morning, Aunty Nona’s in the late afternoon. I like those late afternoons because I get to rummage through Aunty’s stack of books.

To conclude?
(a) I like the weekends.
(b) I’m a nerd. Always was and forever will be ^^

And no, I’m not going to tag anyone

Note: I woke up one morning, terrified, because I had a dream where a snake had bitten me. Consulted Wanie about it and was skeptical of her answer until I read this on NH. Maybe Wanie can find a part-time job being a dream interpreter :p

A Bitter Habit

This is my confession: I am weak.

I have a bad habit of falling for guys who (obviously) will not fall for me. What’s worse is that, even though I’ve scraped my heart too much to teach me a lesson, I keep on giving them my attention, time and all the while hoping that things would turn around.

Don’t get me wrong; I love being single. I’m all about being an independent woman but I am also waiting for Prince Charming. Someone who would earnestly love me, warts and all. Someone who would appreciate, protect and care for me. To be put on a pedestal, not for him to worship, but to be by his side no matter what.

Recent nights has unfolded dreams of me being in a relationship with a stranger. This is not some dream that I subconsciously conjured up because everything felt genuine (if it’s one that I had manifest, it would be screaming surreal).

I woke up having vague memories of them; according to Wanie (who’s some sort of an expert on dreams), a vague dream is an event that’s bound to happen sooner or later. The only thing that I could remember was how complete I had felt. I have never met him in my life, this I’m sure of, and if someday I do, I’d recognise him instantaneously (hopefully).

Despite the fact that I can’t remember any of the dreams, I am happy that God allowed me to be happy and hopeful as I rest at night.

Stopping By

I stopped here to open myself,
but found that I’d left my stories on the shelf.
So I went back home to begin again,
and look forward to come back but can’t say when…
For now, have a great day,
an anticipate for the day of my return to my humble site
that offers me (and hopefully your) delight.

Note: I have died and gone to fabric heaven x)

If I want silence, I’ll whisper. If I want to be alone, I’ll go. If I like rejection I wouldn’t have chosen to go and if I don’t like you, you’ll know.

Do you like to see me broken just to prove that I care? No one likes a sad face so by excusing myself, I hope that you would be happy always.

American Boy

A few minutes before his flight took off; he called me on my cell. “Just to hear your chipmunk-y voice for the last time in a long while,” he said before the stewardess asked him to switch off his phone. Now before any of my girls shriek like a Pontianak let get this straight: him and me will never be.

The lunch date was the first of many (by many I meant six) outings in the period of 2 weeks. Again, before any of my girls starts squealing like little piglets (for some reason, Jason seems to be amused by the fact that I associate girly squeals to a piglet’s) let get this straight: him and me will never be.

Just like Estelle’s American Boy, Jason is about 5′ 7″ who’s just my type. I like the way he speaks and his confidence to converse in Malay despite the fact that he needs proper pronunciation lessons. Jason has this Justin Timberlake’s boyish charms meet the late Heath Ledger’s manly rawness meet Johnny Depp’s eccentric thinking meet the musical talents of Timbaland thing going on.

On paper, he’s perfect and in his I was too (I’m not being conceited, he told me this). We enjoyed each other’s company but oddly enough we didn’t have lovey dovey chemistry together. The first few outings we deluded ourselves into thinking our innocent friendship would move up to another upper level.

I find the whole thing funny (the self delusional part of it) that on one picnic at the KLCC park (where else?) I burst out laughing. He gave me a weird face and started laughing too. That’s one thing about Jason that I like and dislike: that he thinks and reacts just the same as I do.

In a way, I think we mirror each other. That’s why there were no sparks between us. Like the poles on magnets, opposites attract not the identical ones.

Still, this 2 weeks affair has not gone to waste. We’ve each found a friend in each other and that’s not bad at all. Asher said it’s a pity but he retorted by saying this to me: “You’ll always be my Malaysian holiday fling, little one.” One part of me think it’s sweet of him to say that while the other can’t help but to be offended by the term ‘little one’