Confession No. 6

Sometimes when I look in the mirror, I wince and grimace.

I get the urge to smash the mirror into pieces or hold back from eating.

The worst came to me covering my mirror with a towel.

Now I just shake my head and concentrate on the good parts.

I'm fucking gorgeous.

Kicked Out Of My Own Room

We have a cleaner come in every Monday morning and she's a godsend! Well, to me she is. Thanks to her my bathroom is clean for half the week without an effort from lazy me. Thanks to her my room is less dusty until Sunday where Mama will tell me to clean my room.

Do you, like me, see what's wrong there? Clean my room a day before the cleaner comes in? I'll deprive her of her fun. Not that she's lacking any due to having the whole house to clean. Two floors, 3 rooms, 3 bathrooms, 2 living rooms,one big kitchen and the yard as well. Oh wait, I forgot the dining room.

Cause right now I'm sitting at the dining table with my laptop and phone. Mama and the lil bro are going out to do some chores (making a key for Dad and getting breakfast) while I'm left at home with the cleaner. Why am I not in my wonderfully pink room?

The cleaner kicked me out.

"Go go go, You're not needed here,"

Perhaps I should start from the moment she arrived.

I was enjoying my cornflakes + chocolate chips when Mama told her that she wants to paint the upper walls behind my wardrobe. Which is the home to bags and boxes. So she took them down and Mama and I went through them. Sorting to Junk and Treasure. It was very very dusty.

The cleaner then forced us to let her paint the piece of wall. Fine. Then Mama got the brilliant idea of asking me:

"Hanis, do you want to move your bed around?"

"I can move it for you,"

And that's how I got kicked out. She told me to take my laptop, my phone and go elsewhere.

I still haven't showered =.=

I can hear her vaccumming now.

And while I type this out, I'm listening to this song and the next door cat doing a mating call.

I know, extremely fun.

Speaking of fun, I better go do my chores.

Peace Out.

Being a Meal Picture Taker.

That is my breakfast today.

I thought of taking a picture while scattering a handful of chocolate chips.

Yes, those are chocolate chips in my cornflakes.

Yum.

My Dad is Amazing. Read On.

Earlier, Mozart and I was playing this Name an Animal from A-Z game. It was a fun way to pass the time and release our poor souls from boredom. The rule was that we couldn't get help. From Google or anything.

So it went on well. I got stuck at N for a bit until I said Natterjack. Which is a toad. Thank you Enid Blyton. It went well until we got to U. The dreaded U. It was Mozart's turn (yes, I just love saying his name, you would too) so we were thinking. The obvious answer was there but it was a myhtical creature. That's like saying Phoenix for P. Or Hippogriff for H. It got to the point of me asking Dad for help.

Scene

Hanis in her room, sitting on her bed with lappy on lap. While Dad is outside watching tv.

"Dad.What's an animal that starts with a U?"

"A what?"

"Animal that starts with a U"

"Unicorn!"

"That's a myhtical creature!"

"Still,"

It got me laughing and Mozart googled, apparently there's 2 answer. Unicorn and Urchin.

Like, Urchin? Most of us would think Sea Urchin.

But anyway, it was my turn for V. I decided to ask dear old Dad again.

"Dad. An animal that starts with a V"

And he said with no hesitation at all.

"Voldemort!"

Dad, I love you for knowing just how much your daughter is obsessed with Harry Potter.

And this is the man who came to me before the 7th book came out and speculated a Star Wars twist. You know, Voldemort coming up to Harry and saying "Harry! I'am your father!".

Peace Out.

Butterflies In Your Tummy. Tell Me.

Its not always rainbows and butterflies,
Its compromise that moves us along.


Do click on this before you read. Thank you.


I'm going to talk about butterflies. Not the ones flying/fluttering around in gardens. But the ones you get in your tummy when you're happy. Or in a lovey dovey mood.


Yes, those butterflies. So, I was wondering and have asked some people this one question.

What colour(s) would your butterflies be?

There have been some simple answers. Some beautiful answers. And of course, I've met a couple of people who were confused and told me:

"How should I know what colours would they be?"

Fail.

But then, those pretty answers are the ones that made me smile and go awwwwwww.


"Green and purple with spots. That's what I imagine flying around inside me" - Mozart

"Blue and green. I think those butterflies are pretty" - Ben ( Team Ben FTW)

"Lilac and light green" - Noelle

"Red. The colour of your heart, love and passion" - Beast Master. *giggles to myself*

"The colours of a sunset" - A guy I can't remember who.


Beautiful, right?

So I was wondering, what would yours be? Yes you. The person reading this. I do hope you'll hit that comment button and tell me. Pretty please. I'll give you my godchild (again) if you do so.

And oh yes, what colours are my butterflies?

Every shade of green and blue.

*smiles*

Peace Out.

Confession No.5

I'm pretty happy right now.

Like smiling like an idiot happy.

Went to bed smiling.Woke up smiling.

God, please let this one last.

Letter to Someone Who Used to Be on My Contacts.

Dear Person Who Used To Be on My Contacts List,

Yes, I deleted you after a while of not talking. And you plainly know its not my fault. A few weeks of saying "Hi,", "Hello,", "Heya," or any other greeting and getting none in return clearly means one thing.

But silly Hanis thought perhaps you were busy. Until I found out you can still have conversations with a mutual friend. What's up with that? One conversation, I can get. But multi convos? I don't fucking get that.

Perhaps you can tell me if I was being creepy, clingy, needy or just plain bored you to tears? The message you were trying to sent to me by ignoring me really hits home when you just logged off after I said "Hi," You were having such a nice time being online an hour but then I had to disturb your peace of mind.

God, just block me will you? But don't worry, I already deleted you. So don't expect getting messages from me anymore. Wow, you must be relieved and happy, thinking "Finally, the bitch gets it!". Yeah, I got it. I got that you didn't like talking to me as much as I do talking to you.

And this is just to add on some guilt to you. It fucking hurts to be ignored by you. And yes, blame my "tender sensitivity" or what the fuck it can be called as but I got sad. Oh wait, you don't care at all. Totally slipped my mind. Silly me. Talk to you later. Not.

With regret,

Hanis.

Confession No.4

I really hate it when people push me to do something.

Cause most of the time, I'm too fucking nice to say no and dissapoint them.

Of Ambitions- I'm Still Looking!

When I was 7, I remembered being in class when the teacher asked the oh-so-expected question in her kind motherly voice (seriously, best teacher ever):

"What do you want to be when you grow up?"

Of course, the typical answers were teacher, doctor, policeman and mostly what their parents do, you know? So when it came to me, I stood up in my blue pinafore, hair in two braids tied in white ribbons, looking so damn cute and answered very politely:

"I want to be a religious teacher,"

Or more known as the Islamic Studies teacher.

I don't remember the reaction back then, but whenever I tell my friends about that noble ambition now, they'll end up laughing so hard. Mama laughed too hearing it.

I'm not religious. But my basics are strong. And even though I don't do much, I know what's wrong or right. And yes, I have a good memory when it comes to memorising so I usually get, wait, always get A's for that subject in high school.


When I turned 12, I wanted to be a doctor. I was smart. And naive. So I held onto that ambition till I was 16. What made me change my mind? Biology. The first day of studying it, I flipped through the book and closed it, my mind made up.

Goodbye doctor.

But when I was 14, I entertained a brief idea of becoming a fashion designer. I even had a book full of drawings. Let's just ignore the fact that I can't bloody sew. Its so bad that I can't even thread a needle. But there I was, daydreaming of becoming a fashion designer.

A year later, I wanted to be a radio dj. Shy quiet Hanis. Yes. I don't even have to explain.

So, after I gave up my doctor career, I flirted with so many ideas for about two years.

Engineer- I hate phsyics

Lawyer- Memorising and talking?

Nurse- Taking care, being gentle and patient? More likely I'll give them a heart attack. I don't deal well with sick people.

Singer- Don't ask.

Computer programmer- Everyone is doing that. Well, not everyone, but you get me.

Rich person- Perfect. But where to get the cash inflow?


And it went on and on and on.

Right now, I'm doing actuarial science. And if I'm blessed, I'll be an actuary one day. One day. When I secretly want to be a writer with best selling books.

Is that a proper ambition?

What about being Marky Mark's girl?

Or wait, Mrs. Draco Malfoy?

I think I can proudly say my ambition is to be Mrs. Draco Malfoy.

Muahaha.

Peace Out.

Long Distance Relationships. Love-Hate Them.

Yesterday, while scrubbing off paint from my windows ( Don't ask, blame my hand for brushing up against the windows), I had my headphones on, listening to a morning show on my favourite radio station. And somehow, that day's topic was long distance relationships.

I wanted to bang my head on those windows but since I was sitting on top of a ladder, it would be unwise. I don't want to fall on to a floor covered with paint splattered newspapers. Why did I have such a reaction you wonder?

Hmm. Let me see.

Maybe that my attempts at it failed? Brilliantly I might add.

So I might get a bit cynical at the mention of LDR but I still believe in it. I still think it can work, depending on few things.

1. If you guys started as a normal relationship and then one of you have to move or go study abroad, most of the time, it doesn't work. You're just too used to having them there that the absence is just too obvious. And even if you guys manage to stick through till the end, just remember, people change.
2. Trust. Interest. Honesty. That's the main components needed for a LDR to make it.
3. And honestly, if both people want it to happen, it will. Its when one starts to doubt that the relationship gets wonky.

So will I give it another go if I do have a chance? Yes. But that person has to be special. Like, nothing at all like No.3. Or as Noelle said:

"Its easy finding someone better than him. He's that bad."

I love you bestie.

I've been asked why don't I try SDR. I haven't found anyone of interest nor have anyone nearby found me so. I do sometimes just want to reach out and hold hands. Not just pretend to feel and do so.

Not just type *hold hands* and be happy with that.

Damn it. My "I wanna be loved" phase is coming back. I can feel it.

*kicks it and locks it in a trunk,shoving into a dark dark room*

There, done.

Going back to the morning show I listened to, a girl called and she has been in one for 4 years and its going strong. They meet often as this American boyfriend of hers has a business in Indonesia so he pops over to meet her.

Yes, I was so jealous and envious I wanted to smack something. But then, I'm glad that someone's having it well even though I don't know them.

Now, where is my prospective boyfriend? *sighs dramatically*

Peace Out.

Pink. Well, Not Much.

You guys asked for it. So prepare to have your eyes burned be amazed at the new walls of my room. But first, I do apologize for the messy looking pictures. I took them after waking up and being a messy person, you can just imagine how messy my room is.

Yes, that's the headboard part of my bed. Yes, that's my towel. Yes, I have blue curtains with pink walls. And yes, its two shades.

No, that's my dad's golf clubs. Yes, he doesn't play anymore. So my room is like a storing place. That white thingie near the golf clubs? A signed poster of Westlife. And that's my radio and book shelves. Yes, its messy. I'm still reorganising my room.

This is pure showing off. I'm still wondering why my aunt gave me a puzzle of Cinderella for my 6th birthday when its so clear that I love Ariel. We (My cousins and I) put it together, sticked on those jewel things and Mama got it framed. Like, 15 years ago. I'm gonna hang this on the dark pink wall, once I find a nail to bang into the wall.

I found a big basket, threw away the trash in it and put some of my books in them. The basket is on the floor, near my bed so I can just take one whenever I want to.

Closer look at the books.

I'm Buddies With Mozart.

Fuck yes I'am.

But not the dead one mind you. The Mozart I know is this Aussie dude, a music student. I know, you're probably rolling your eyes and think duh.

No Mozart is gonna be an accountant.

Well, I know someone will prove me wrong and drag out an architect named Mozart. Or something.

But what I'm trying to say that this guy is awesome. That's a given. Most of my friends are awesome.

Noelle.

Mamon.

Awesome people.

So are all of my followers.

Needs an amazing awesome person to know one, right? ;)

This is not me buttering you guys up.

The purpose of this post is to shamelessly promote Mozart's blog.

No, its not about music.

Its about random things. Far more serious than mine.

You so have to take a look.

I'll give you my godkids.

Brand New Room.Kinda.

I painted my room today. Its about 80% done. I know sometime in the near future, I'll look at my walls and resist the urge to smack my head against something hard. Multiple times. While muttering or screaming these 7 words over and over.

Why the hell did I choose pink?

Yes, ladies and gentlemen.

Hanis, the girl who don't do pink, chose pink for her room. In two shades! Once its all done and settled in, I'll try taking a picture to show you guys the pinkness of my room.


As in Mama's words:


"My daughter is becoming a true girl now!"

This Happen Everytime I Buy a Book.

Last Thursday, after such a wonderful sighting, Dad gave me about 40 Ringgit for a book. The usual price here is around 30-35 Ringgit. Your normal paperback book. So I headed to the book store, a big one with shelves and shelves of books and books. I was SET to buy another book of my Black Dagger Brotherhood Series.

There's currently 8 books in the series and in Malaysia, the 8th book is not available yet. I got 6 of them so I knew what I had to buy.

It was a simple process. Go to the romance section. And its always at the same place. The bottom shelf. I had a copy of Lover Unbound in my hand when I turned around and saw the opposite shelf was under the classical section. Penguins books. I saw Lolita.

I saw The Secret Garden.

I saw Jane Eyre.

And guess what? They were cheaper. About 8.50 ringgit per book. I was thinking to myself, hmmm I can get 4 books now.

But then what if I don't like them? I'll be banging my head against the wall for not buying Lover Unbound. By this time, I had Lolita in one hand and Lover Unbound in the other. With the fear of not liking the former, I put it back on the shelf.

Vampire romance win.

I then got the brilliant idea of browsing the other shelves. It was okay, with my brother dragging himself behind me. But then, I came to the Stephen King section.

Having read all the Wiki pages on his books during my internship, I had this longing to read/buy one of his books. So there I was, staring at the books, picking one up after another, reading the synopsis. I was wondering if I should get my first Stephen King book.

But then, I told myself

"Next time Hanis,"

Fine. I walked on and on. Feeling confident and strong this time, I browsed the books, Lover Unbound tight in my hand. That is until, I saw Jodi Picoult's books.

Damn it.

I love her books. I have 4 of them. Wait, 5 I think. And there were a new book. And I realised that I've neglected my soul for vampire romance. My soul needed something Jodi Picoult. It craves it.

This was a real battle. A struggle of which book to buy. I was there for more than 5 minutes when my brother took the vampire book and the money I had in my back pocket before striding off to the cashier. I watched with wide eyes, Jodi Picoult's book in one hand as he paid for my book and came back with the book, minus plastic bag.

"Easy, right?"

Thanks for taking away the fun of my book shopping.

Room Makeover Talk- 1

"Since you already sent in your report and everything, why don't we paint your room next week?"

My room was painted around a decade ago when the house were renovated. Its a nice blue colour. And no, its not a girly blue. its like a some kind of blue that matches a guy's room. I just love blue.

"No more blue Hanis,"

That was fine with me. I'm more mature now and I can live with other colours.

"We have to sandpaper your walls first,"

Oh shit. One wall, the upper half is covered with glow in the dark stickers. OH MY GOD. NO. Please no. Those are mine.

"Those stars will have to go,"

If its one of those hard, stick on stars it doesn't matter. I can reuse them. But these are stickers.*takes a deep breath*

Fine.

"What colour do you want?"

Now that's something to think about. No more blues. Hmm. So many colours.

"I don't want any green,"

"I want it two colours,"

"I want it to have a border wallpaper,"

"I want one of those pretty, fancy stick-on arts on the walls. I heard we can get it from IKEA,"

Mama had a look on her face. It said that her daughter is being way too demanding.

"I'm gonna need a colour catalogue,"

"No, we'll just see what the colours are at the shop,"

"I need to plan,"

"No, you don't. You'll probably be moving out in a couple of years time."


Mama: 1

Hanis: 0

HP Made Me Cry.

So, I just got back from watching Harry Potter and I totally teared up few times.

1. When Hermione obliviated her parents.
2. When Hedwig died.
3. The fight between Harry and Ron.
4. When Dobby died.

Don't worry, none of those are spoilers. Its all in the books. But hell, I cried at the last one. A proper tears running down cheeks.

Is it just me or is Bill Weasley very very attractive?

I'm Team Draco and 3 Other Guys That Died in HP.

A friend of mine watched Harry Potter last night and the first question I asked him, well second question was :

"Was there Draco in it?"

"Not much. Less than 5 minutes"


*is dissapointed*


Yes, I'm a Draco Malfoy lover.


Well, more like Team Draco.

And also, Team Sirius, Team Snape, Team Lupin.

I love those men.

Rawr.

But those last 3 died. And I cried. Till my eyes bleed.

Okay, not bleed, that was just to get the third line rhyme as well.

But I did cry.

And of course, I read fanfictions way back. And wrote some too.

If you ever wanna read those old stories written 4-5 years ago with plenty of mistakes them, just tell me so.

Peace Out.

Talking About My New Picture.

"Bestie Noelle, did you see my new blogger profile pic?"

"I didddd,"

"What do you think of it? My face has that perfect *I'm bored in the car, have nothing to do, oh look my phone has a camera* look on it,"

"It suits your blog :D "

*decides that means a good thing*

But now, after staring at the pic, which is pic 26 out of 30, taken in the span of 15 mins, I've decided that my face has the perfect "Oh look, I think my complexion looks better now, lets take a picture ri- OMG A SQUIRREL" look.

Am I right or not?

It reminds me of the movie UP where those dogs are constantly distracted by squirrels.

Of course, I cried watching that movie. Like, duh.

Peace Out.

Confession No.3

I'm dead scared of rejection.

Especially when it comes to people.

I need to be liked by others.

I Thought They Were Sold Out.

If its up to me, I'll be watching the new Harry Potter movie in two weeks. I'll just let all the buzz die down. Which means less standing in line waiting for tickets. And less being crowded by people who only watch the movies and not read the books.

Yes, I can go and pre-book the tickets but the online system only let you do that 2 days beforehand. If I want to, lets say buy one for next Friday, I have to go to the movie theather, get in line and buy the ticket. And that is a total fail since I don't want to line up. And since we can only book it 2 days before, the tickets are usuallllly sold out. Even with about 8 screenings per day.

But then, the parents want to watch it. Don't ask me why, I'm still puzzled. They want family time. So after failing to convince them that there is no hope of tickets until December, I logged onto my online account at the movie place. Tried getting some for Friday at 3pm.

"Sorry, this showing is fully booked,"

I wasn't suprised or dissapointed. It was expected. Mama was. She suggested me to wait till midnight so I can buy some for Sunday. I was thinking "As if they're not sold out,"


Did I stayed up till midnight?

Yes.

Did I book those tickets?

No. I was too lazy.


But this morning, Dad was like "Just try and see,"

Fine.

"Sunday at what time?"

"Noon,"

"Pfft, I bet my books they're sold out,"

*clicks the time and day, chooses 4 for number of tickets before clicking proceed*

*Clicks confirmed*

*Waits for news of rejection, again*

"Your reservation number is xxxxx. If tickets are unclaimed 45 mins before the showtime, they will be sold,"

My reaction?

O.O

I know.

So Sunday, here I come.

I Saw a Tattooed Eye-Candy.

Have I ever mentioned my weakness for white boys? Not just any white boys but ones that speak in English. Aka, first language is English. It might have to do with my preference to speak in English at times. Or it might have to do with some set-up in my mind that I just like those white boys.

And since I live in Malaysia, I don't have dozens of white boys walking around doing their own thing. So its sadness. It might be novelty thingie. It might just be plain desire.

So today I went out with the family and after staring at the very very very very long line at the movie theather, we decided that lunch was in order. So Burger King was the choice. And then that's when I saw him.


Who?

Him.

Who?


It was this white guy in beach shorts since the mall is attached to one of the country's famous water parks, and he had platinum blond hair.


And of course, the tattooes and ear studs.

*shivers* I know. It might be just me but the sight of that full tattoo sleeve, those tattooed knuckles, a tattoo on his leg made me choose a seat facing him and his two less cute but still hot friends.

There I was, eating my BBQ Bacon Cheeseburger with a healthy dollp of chilli sauce, dipping my fries once in a while as I stare at the tasty eye candy.

I wanted to shove my brother's head to the side for being in the way but then Mama was being suspicious.

I was staring a lot too.

*sigh*

I swear if I weren't with the family, I would have been brave enough to approach him and comment on those tats.


Is it just me or does a hot guy + tattoo = an urge to lick those tats slowly?

Luck & Patience Was With Me.

It got accepted!

Wooooohooo.

*dances around*

This is just one quick update since I'm gonna head out with the family for lunch and hopefully, a new book.

Wanted : Luck & Patience.

I need luck. And patience. Like, seriously. Give me enough luck to be a leprechaun. And enough patience to be the Dalai Lama. Or someone known for patience and peace.


Why?


Today is the last day to hand in my report. So please, don't let it get rejected again. I know, I've been rejected twice. I might just off myself if it happens.


Or tell everyone to go fuck off.


So here I'am with my hopes as high as the blue sky above me.


Please, I beg with my rainbow coloured heart to accept my report.


Wish me luck and patience?


Peace Out.

I Wish You Don't Have Caps Lock.

I understand that with typing, you're deprived from using different tones to convey your words. Your emotions. Your thoughts. Your feelings.

But wait, the great god of keyboards have given us a way to compensate. Do you know what is it? No? Darn it. Well, I want you to look down at your keyboard. Got that? Now look for your "A". Its right beside "S". And on the other side of "A" is the amazing Caps Lock!

Or not.

Its helpful at times. Like, when you need to use it to make it a big A instead of a small a.

And of course, its useful when you need to emphasize ONE thing. Such as in exams and so on.

"Out of these characteristics, which one is NOT true?"

Somthing like that.

But then, there's the people who just loveeees abusing that one key. Yeap, they're the people who type fully in caps.

When you do that, it gives an impression of screaming/shouting.

If it comes from a friend who suddenly has an amazing news, I don't mind. I'll be like

"OMFG.NO WAY.TELL ME ABOUT IT!"

But then, if its in an email for someone you don't really know.

Rudeness perhaps?

I've received emails, perhaps written in annoyance/anger/displeasure and to which I can totally accept their feelings being negatively so. But then having someone type a whole paragraph in caps and ending sentences with multiple ! and ? makes me want to smack someone.

I'm aching to ask them

"Are you shouting at me?"

Or perhaps I should teach them some typing manners.

When I would rather wrench out that caps lock key before smashing their keyboard against the wall, ala Wanted.

Its a Curse!

I can smell smoke. I suspect some neighbour is burning dead leaves. Can I call the municipal council and cry 'Pollution!" ? Or is that over-the-top? I can literally taste the smoke in my throat and it makes me nauseous. It tightens my chest up, telling me to go and look for my inhaler. It tells me to calm myself down.

Do not panic Hanis.

You're not going to get another asthma attack.

Just relaz and you'll be good.

Confession No.2

I can't hate people.

Dislike? Yes. Hate? Nope.

I Have an Advice.

People claim to know about one subject.They say they read up on it.And then go all

"I know how it is and I think its fucking stupid,"

Yada yada yada.Most of the time, their sources are biased.Its like:

Hanis reads up about Harry Potter on HP Hate sites.

Hanis believe that Harry Potter is the teaching of devil.

Hanis goes and sprouts out that, believing HP fans to be mindless idiots.

Do you get me?

Now replace Harry Potter with a more scandalous topic. Religion. Politics. Culture.

The effects would be deeper. Or seemed more intense.

My advise? Don't hate something just because of what you read one-sidedly. If you already hate something from the start, its no good.

And another advise.

Shut the fuck up.

Thank you.

Peace out.

Letter to Someone Else.

Dear you,

Yes you. The ones who make me have butterflies in my tummy. Butterflies in every shade of green and blue. Please come online more often. I like you. A lot.

Hopefully yours,

Hanis.

Hanis' Plan For a New Page. Fail.

So, I was eyeing my tabs of pages on my blog and I thought to myself

"Hmm, we need another one up there. What should it be about?"

I already had my contacts info there. So after mulling about it for a few minutes, it came down to three options.

1. A "About Me" page. All amazing people need one, so the journalists will know bits and pieces about them.
2. A boyfriend application page. Like, I've been single for 5 months D: Hanis needs some loving. Well, more like someone who thinks she's gorgoues, bitch about mean people with, whisper sweet nothings to and cuddle with. Even if its online.
3. Wishlist. So you can buy stuffs for me without asking what I want :D

I immediately erased the third one. I ain't a gift whore y'all. Well, not to this extent, yet. And I'm so not against people asking me what I want. I'll be utterly grateful before giving them a list of 5 items.

So that leaves the first two options. The second one seems so apppealing. Like, who knows, maybe Marky Mark/Shia/Hugh Jackman/a straight/bi hot single amazing sweet loyal loving guy is reading this and thinks

"Hanis is one amazing girl. I need to apply!!"

Before ordering flowers from an online florist for me. Carnations and gardenias please. And don't forget a quick browse through Amazon for a book.

But then, what if my mom sees this? She'll be like:

"I got some friends with single sons. I need to help my daughter,"

Which leads to me being stuck with a typical guy who's not kinky adventurous enough and rather just do it in bed stay here and not do it all over the place travel the world. That's like hell for me D: I swear. I need a guy who's willing to try new stuffs. New places! New flavours!

That made me put a line through that option, which leaves my first choice. Which is a dilemma on its own. What should I tell? This ain't some journal where I write

Name:

D.O.B

Fave Colour:

And so on. That will leave no air of mystery. You guys won't be intrigued by me anymore. And I'll lose my followers. Which has finally moved from the 30 followers to a pretty 32.

And I fail, utterly fail at telling people about myself. Once I had to introduce myself in an English class.

"Err, my name is Hanis. I'm, erm the first child of two with my brother being 8 years younger. I like reading. Writing too sometimes."

And I blanked. It was mortifying. Like, utter mortification.

So I cancelled my plans for another page. Unless any of you have something to ask me? And no, I won't tell you my weight. Its 3 digits (in pounds) so that's enough. I won't tell where I'm ticklish. Everywhere.

Other than that, you guys are free to ask.

*hopes at least one kind soul will ask*

Confession No.1

I confess that I can be needy, attention-wise.

But then, I'm good at disguising it.

So I don't get enough attention in the end.

A Letter to Someone.

Dear you,


You probably thought I was joking in saying silence would be my greeting from now on instead of my usual "Boo". I wasn't. You probably thought I was joking throughout the whole convo. I wasn't. So do enjoy the silence because I find its the only way to protect myself from being sad at your lack of replies or enthusiasm. I liked you.

Never Yours,

Hanis.

Late Night Wish

What I really really really want right now is:


To have a nice cold shower, sitting on the floor as I reflect on the aspects of my life. I've done this before and I've come out wrinkled, cold, shivering and less burden on my shoulders. And of course, I'll have a warm mug of hot chocolate waiting for me as I get dressed for bed. A book beside the mug. Amazing way to destress myself.


If you'll excuse me, I have a mug of hot chocolate to make.

Here's a Wish to Kitty Heaven.

I want a kitty cat. My old one, Tom or Fat Cat or Tommy Wommy Poo passed away 8 months ago in a horrible freak accident. *takes a moment of silence*

Dad is now looking at cats online and the bro and I are nudging each other behind his back, hoping to get one.

Please, I'll take care of it and love it just as much as I loved Tommy Wommy Poo. Just make it like me more than Tom did.

Bro: If there was a fire, who would you save?

Hanis: Of course I'll save Tom. I love him more.

Bro: You're mean.

Hanis: As if you won't do the same.

Bro: Precisely.

I'm Fine, I'm No Longer Sad-ish.

I realised most of my recent posts are either sad or depressive. I even wrote about death D:

And yes, my favourite smiley face ever at the moment is the amazing, fantabolous, wonderful ...

D:

It makes you just want to go all "EGASP" or perhaps "Goodness me!" right? I picked up the habit from an online friend and I bet he's regretting ever using that with me.

Another habit of mine now is to say BOOYA! I think that came from those years of watching Kim Possible. Ron Stoppable just loves saying that. Now I just need a naked mole rat to put in my pocket.


If any of you've noticed, my NaNoWriMo had been stagnant for a while. Its because of :

a) My stupid report.

b) The stupid presentation that got brought up early.

c) Laziness


I solemnly swear that I am up to no good I will continue writing once I get my report handed in and accepted. Like, no more procrastinating. Half the month would be gone and I'm still stuck at below 20%.

Fail, Hanis. Its an utter fail.


Even as I type this out, I'm revising my report. Which is utterly utterly tiring. But its for my own good. And of course, I have a message for someone.


Did you think every single of my classmates who were watching I didn't get it the first time round? Hell, I have no problem when you said it the second time around. Or the third. BUT when you had to repeat it over and over, for the same bloody kind of mistake, I just wanted to ask if someone woke up with an extra dose of bitchiness today? Or was it some UST you got there? But whatever, one should be thankful I followed my parents advise to just

"Smile and nod, say nothing back,"

Or as I think of it

"Just curse the person in your mind and rant about it in your blog,"




And I feel better now.


I'm into browsing people's tumblrs now. Some of them. And it inspired me to make one. I registered then it got overwhelming. I gave up and ran. xD I think its gonna be blogging for now.


Anyway, report revising time.


Peace Out.

Attack of the Asthma

"Hanis, when are you going to get on the treadmill today?"

"My asthma's acting up Mama,"

"You need the exercise so your asthma won't act up,"

"Do you want me to be wheezing on the treadmill and that might lead to another asthma attack?"

"..."

"Which will make you take me to the clinic again,"

"Alright alright,"


Hanis : 1

Mama: 0

Death is Waiting at the Door. I Hope Not.

Somehow, when it comes to the matter of death, or more like untimely aka death at young age, I always thought of what will be done to my belongings. Such as my laptop and my phone. Do ignore the journals cause that's from highschools. And how will people know? I'm talking about my online friends. How will they know that something happened to me?


I know, this is a slightly depressing issue but its just a "What will happen .. " kind of thought.


And yes, I've somehow devised a way, a plan if it so happens that I get to a sudden death/accident/coma or whatever. The first thing and the most important thing is for me, I don't want my parents to open my laptop. I don't want them to really know who I was and what I did.


Some of the things might break their hearts (do remember my parents are slightly traditional in way of thinking, so don't go think I'm in some kind of internet porn ring or something).


And oh yes, the plan? It involves two of my besties, Noelle and Mamon and the former's ability to guess my passwords. I know, its slightly weird but haven't you ever thought of what will happen to your stuffs? Especially your private belongings that might contain things you don't want others to see or read. Let alone even know about.

Am I weird and paranoid? Or am I not the only doing this?

Peace Out.

I Don't Care That You Listen to a Dead Singer's Songs.

I love music. I love listening to it. But one thing I don't like about it is how some people can be such music snobs. I've never got into Beetles and all those legends. I just listen to what I want. I do know some ABBA songs and one Bee Gees song though.

I don't care what you listen to. But when a person goes all snotty and look down at me just cause I like listening to Katy Perry, please get away before I bitch slap you. Just because you listen to any band with dead members, doesn't mean you're better. Or because you listen to a singer who commited suicide, that doesn't make you cooler than me.

Now you got that in your head, go and wow yourself with one of the bands I love.


And I almost loved you, and I almost wished you loved me too.

Peace out.

Its Random.

Today ,

I smiled,

I laughed,

I cursed,

I yawned,

I felt guilty,

I giggled,

I teared up,

I blushed,

But most of all,

Through all of that,

I missed you.

Love Don't Have a Definition.

What is love? I used to be a hopeless romantic and then turned cynical and bitter. I fight to stand on the line between those two. I look at a bestie of mine and her boyfriend of 3 years and I know its love. I'm just waiting for their wedding announcement. And of course, my parents wants their invitation.

I gag sometimes at people that claim they're in love. I want to roll my eyes and tell them its lust. Its obsession. Its infatuation. Its not love, yet. But what is love? I don't know. I have no idea. We can't define it by a definition. Its just is love.

I have written stories of love. I've wrote on unrequited love. Friends that became more. Love between enemies. Love going through hardships. But have I experienced these? No. Well, apart from the first one.

I know just how it feels to know your love is unrequited. I've cried in the shower. I've felt that pain where you wish your heart can stop feeling. I've cried till I fell asleep. Cried so hard silently that my throat hurts with held back cries. I know how it is to stand in the sidelines, wanting to jump and scream

"Look at me! I love you. I'll make you happy,"

And in a moment of self pity, I've never felt to have my love returned. Truly returned. And letting out that hopeless romantic in me, I want that person to hold hands with. Hell, I want someone to grow old with. Someone who can take all of my bullshits and kiss me when I'm panicking.

But what is love? That's my question. I know there's no answer. No definite answer. That's my opinion. You just know it is love when you see it. You'll see it many times, everytime in a different mask.

No, I'm not desperate for someone. I still go through bouts of feeling lonely in between of my "I'm single and I'm fine" phases. I still get my hopes up for silly things before it crashes and burn. But I'm a fighter. I think. I don't give up even when I say I'am. I just keep on going. Just keep on letting my heart get hurt and bruised.

If I take care of it too much, it will be too delicate. I want to make it stronger. Make it better. Should I quote the saying

" We have to kiss so many frogs to get to our prince,"

Or perhaps

"The wrong guys make us better for the right one,".

Both have the same message.


I bet this has been one confusing post to read. But then, love is confusing.


Peace Out.

Noelle, You're Kinda Wise. Sometimes. Well, Most of the Time.

"I had a classmate, she was big and her crush told her he would date her if she got thinner. She skipped meals and stuff and the end result? He got together with someone else." - Noelle, my bestie.


The lesson here?

If a guy can't like you when you're fat/not pretty enough, he's not worth it.

If a guy don't love you when you're fat/not pretty enough, he won't love you when you're thin. Because love, the real kind is blind.



Self love is what most of us lacked.


Peace Out.

Fairy Godmother Needed.

I want a fairy godmother. So she can wave her sparkly wand and make things better. She'll pop into my room and be worried on how miserable I look.

Half of my face is mashed up on my pillow while I'm curled up just to apply pressure on my tummy. She'll be like

"Oh no Hanis! Let me make your wish come true,"

Wishes my dear godmother. Wishes.

1. I want you to write my report for me.

2. I want you to wish away my tummy ache.

3. I want you to make me something good to eat.

4. I want you to mend my heart

And while you at it, give me my heart's desire.

The only reason I'm not badmouthing someone who I really want to is because I fear of them tracing this and BAM, lawsuit.

But just to say this, you're a bitch.

But hey, I think that of so many people.

Peace Out.

I'm Guilty, I Pleasured Myself With These.

I got the idea from here during a google search on topics to blog about.


1. Cooking shows

2. Discreetly checking out a guy's scent.

3.Crying at sad movies or books.

4. Skipping through the book while reading it just so I know how it ends. The Harry Potter series is an exception.

5. Procastinating.

6. Facebook stalking old crushes.

7. Randomly googling people's names.

8.Making a wish every night that I'll meet the one. (I know, hopelessly romantic)

9. Sleeping in car rides.

10. Driving on the highway as it relaxes me.

I Hate Presentation.

According to the guidebook, the presentation for our internship is done the week after the finals are done. In this case, the finals are finished on the 15th. And then on the 17th there's some national holiday so we all figured we would present the earliest on the 22th. Guess what?


Its this Friday. The 12th.


I found out an hour ago, when one of my coursemates called me.

My reaction?

efionhsodfoasuhnfsoaiasio what the fuck?


But wait! There was the "If you have objections, do forward it so,"

I did. And ten minutes later I got a text from my coordinator stating that:

No, we can't change the date.

My reaction?

wefohoaiewhfndwiohwaianhdaia what the hell.


So I texted her again and asked about when should we submit the report?

They wanted a draft this Friday.

oefhwoifhaihqpohjqdw

Yes, I'm cursing.

Blergh.

DIE DIE.

Peace Out.

Losing Battle.

Oh dear heart,

A losing battle,

We are in.

Bow out now,

Before dignity,

Lose its place.

Schedules = Evil.

I had two days of successfully getting to my word count goal. I was happy, joyous in fact that for once, I'm following a schedule. Yes, Hanis is allergic to schedules.

Flashback

17 year old Hanis has a nice study schedule put up on her bedroom wall, right beside the study table, which is overflowing with books. The chair? Has her schoolbag and books too. Under the table? You name it. Books.

Mama walks into the room, sees her daughter lazing on the bed, the 6th Harry Potter book propped up with the radio turned on loud. She then consults her daughter's schedule, nicely made with colourful arrows and hearts.

"Hanis, why aren't you studying Biology?"

"I did,"

There were no Biology books nearby. At all.

"Studying it at tuition doesn't count,"

"Biology is borinnng,"

" I swear if you read your History book as much as your Harry Potter books, you'll get A's,"

*inserts some mumblings as Hanis is nearing a Draco scene*

"Hanis!"

"Err, yes Mama?"

"Biology,"

"Can I study-"

"Anything but English or Maths,"

(Note: I love those two subjects and always use them as an excuse to avoid studying other subjects)

"Fine. Chemistry then,"

"What's the use of this pretty schedule you made last week?"

"To disobey,"

Flashback Over


Yeap, I purposely go against them. If it says 4pm: Math, I'll be on Myspace at that time.

Point of this? I can't stick to a schedule, unless its classes or something. Those, I'm good at.


So what I was trying to say is that today has been a lazy and emotional day for me. I'm listening to Angels Cry again and again. I know Noelle, I'm not supposed to listen to sad songs when I'm already down. But pleaseeee, its my way to cope. I think.


My word count for today? ZERO. Blergh.

Peace Out.

The Train Wreck Left a Mess.

My previous post was about the train wreck. Just scroll down slightly to read it before you do this.

*gives you a moment to read*

Done?

Well, right now I'm just going to curl under my green blanket and hopefully sleep this train wreck away.

Yes, I might be crying.

Yes, this is emotional.

Blergh.

And to make it worse, I'm giving words of encouragement.

*kicks something*

Peace Out.

Like a Train Wreck

You know how that saying would go.

"Its like watching a train wreck. You know its going to end badly/be horrible but you can't just bring yourself to look away,"

Now I'm not so sure if its a train wreck or an accident. Oh whatever, you get what I'm trying to say right?

Well, I feel like something akin to this train wreck had happened to me recently. Emotionally of course.

I don't want to spill it all here because it wasn't a big thing, or even a sure thing. But I had hope for it. And to be the cause of something happening that crushes the frail hope I held and to have ringside tickets to it too? Its like heart breaking. In a lesser degree of intensity.

So that's how I found myself just few minutes ago, the reality of the train wreck setting in finally as I find myself tearing up at the hope gone.

I'm sad, yes. I'm not devastated.

As I said to the person:

"The offer will be on the table until you say yes. I'm patient,"

Well honey, I'm sorry but it seems you pushed the offer off the table before I could take it away.


Its like a mini mini heartbreak.

The Excerpt You've Been Waiting For.

This is the first excerpt from my NaNo. Do excuse any spelling errors and the same goes for grammar. Editing would be done once I'm done with this challenge. Comments would be totally appreciated. And yes, no title, yet.


She leaned against the door, breathing heavily with her eyes closed, fingers curled around the doorknob, holding it still with the lock pushed in. Her skin were tingling from his touch, chest pounding, face flushed. Taking a deep breath, her sense of smell were assaulted by paint and wood. A sharp not overly unpleasing smell.

Her long hair was damp, smelling like the lake, such sweet escape, dripping drops of water onto her hastily pulled on sweater. Under the sweater, she was sweating from the run from the lake, straight home. A slight vibration in the front pocket of her jeans made her jump slightly before she cursed under her breath, hand slipping into the tight space before pulling out the phone.

Without even bothering to look at the caller-id, Xandria flipped her phone open and whispered into the receiver. A whisper that came out as a greeting and a question. A whisper that wanted answers and more. A whisper filled with yearning and curiousity.

"Hello ... ,"

"I didn't mean it,"

His voice agreed with his words. The intonation were full of regret and sadness. Turning around, she stared out of the window with the light turned off. She could make out Gabriel leaning against his opened window, arm against the pane as he stared back at her, lips moving as words spilled into her ear.

"What didn't you mean to? The kiss or the refusal?"

A groan, full of anguish.

"The latter,"

"So you're going to accept my offer,"

She could see his blond head shaking, a non-verbal answer and she closed her eyes, unwilling to look anymore. Taking a deep breath, she cleared her throat.

"Fine, at least tell me why,"

"No,"

"Tell me now Gabriel,"

"Why what? Why I won't take blood from you?"

He hissed the words into his phone, green eyes hard as steel as he stared into the darkness of her room, able to see her clear as day. Leaning against the door, eyes squeezed close with a painful look on her face. It seemed like she wanted him to accept her offer so much.

"Its against my principles Xandria. Just fucking against the principles Desiree and I grew up with."

A heavy sigh.

"Your principles? Or what they told you? What they wrote in the guidebook that came with you?"

She knew her words were bitter. She was jaded in that way. She was already sick of the rules, the secrecy and them. She hates the monthly phone calls, the yearly checkups, the way they talk about her as if she was only another experiment to do a follow-up on.

When she was younger, around 7 or 8 she knew she was different. Papa had told her she''s unique and in no way, a freak. He had made her sit on his lap with her hand in his. The hour that followed had him telling her why she's not allowed to go to the local swimming pool, how she was different and who she really was. He had shown her the envelope that held her birth certificate.

She remember the tears in Papa's blue eyes when she had hugged him tightly and told him that no matter what, she was Alexander James' daughter. She was forever Alexandria James. Their names even matched, a 7 year old her had told him, tiny hands wiping away the tears from his cheeks.

"Xandria, are you okay?"

Shaking the memory away, Xandria gave a nod of her head, knowing her phone partner would see it. She cleared her throat, trying to push away her prejudice and emotions against them. Sighing deeply, she whispered three words.

"Just come here,"

Hanis the Hair Stylist.

When it comes to the lil bro. Let me tell you how his hair is like. Its like mine. Except shorter.

*hears someone grumbling how helpful that statement is*

*kicks them away*

Okay, both of us are blessed with very black hair that is neither straight nor curly. We can name is as wavy. No, my brother doesn't have a head of flippy hair.

Its like, wavy with large curls at the end.

That's why I HATE having short hair. Imagine how I'll look like with short curly hair. And no, I don't look good in it.

I just don't do short haircuts.


Getting back to my brother's hair, its the kind that can never be styled. It can't be put up in spikes, or even have a fringe.

So what he tries to achieve is the usual "run fingers in hair in some pattern" routine so it gets some kind of volume or shit.

And somehow, he makes me do this when he wants to go out.

*winks* Hanis got the touch.

Wow, that sounds so wrong.

But oh well, just wait till I can run my hand in Marky Mark's hair. You'll be jealous.


Peace Out.

Quickie.

Notice the lack of updates?

Blame

1. My chores. I got loads of them.

2. My treadmill. I'm having 30 mins appointments with it.

3. My napping, wait, blame my bed for being damn comfy.

4. My Nano.

Talking about that, remember the little widget I was talking about in the post before this? *points downwards* Well, that thing had reallly helped me cause I've managed to write more than the 6667 words goal of 4 days. Wooohhoooo.

Yeah, that was just for gloating purposes.

Don't worry, an excerpt is in the coming.

Love you guys.

Peace Out.

Its Like An Answer From Above

I've been lazy. I mean, apart from doing chores and whatnot. I've been lazy in my writing. Let's pretend I'm not few days behind. But today, I was browsing NanoWriMo's forums when I saw it.

I heard some harp music being played. It was like the fountain of youth has been revealed to me. Lights came from above, like a spotlight. I nearly fell to my knees in joy and pure relief. I wanted to offer my godchild to the person who posted the answer.

What was it? It was a link for something that might help with your word count. Let me go get an excerpt:

Write or Die is a web application that encourages writing by punishing the tendency to avoid writing. Start typing in the box. As long as you keep typing, you’re fine, but once you stop typing, you have a grace period of a certain number of seconds and then there are consequences.

The consequences = annoying sounds from what I read. I've managed to avoid it by setting a goal of 400 words which I wrote under 10 mins. But if you stop, the page starts getting pink and then red. *manage to avoid the sound at the last minute, twice*

I know, you might say the quality of the words might be meh. But this is the word count that matters. NaNoWriMo is all about the 50,000 words in 30 days. We can edit it and all after that. So if you're interested to try it out, do click on this and the application is on the right hand side.

Peace Out.

Squealing at Such Pretty Drawings.

Today, is officially my lazy day. I napped a lot when I'm not off my feet doing chores. My lappie was on while I was snoring with the afternoon sunlight filtering in through the curtains. I'm not up to par on today's word count. Wooohoo. Lazy Day no.1 is here.

I'm also in a crappy mood right now. Like, total crappy moood. Blergh. I have so much hate and misery in me sometimes that I feel like bleeding those emotions out. Don't worry, I'm not talking about cutting myself because I'm scared of self-inflicted pain. And blood.

Blergh.

But today's ray of sunshine is this amazing cute blog I found today. Its an art/drawing one which is different than my usual taste of private life blogs. But I just found the drawing style cute and I emailed the blogger who's a sweeeetie (she replied!) and I thought I'll share today's ray here.

I wanna steal her talent

Peace Out.

Ramblings After Typing.

If you've read this little blabbering of mine, you'll know that I'm super eager for November. Right now, its 10.11 pm of the 1st of November. I know you're wondering how was my first day of torture writing and yadayada.

Let me see, I waited for midnight and the moment the date on my laptop changed to 1st November, I started to type. Yes, I was that kiasu. But meh. I was obsessed in getting to the daily goal of 1,667 words. That goal is basically 50,000 divided by 30 days.

And if I may steal your attention for a bit, if you take a look at the sidebar on the right, you'll see a coooool word count widget I put over there and you can see how many words I'm in already. Yes people, its a bit higher than the first day's 1,667. No, I won't stop gloating. I do this for a reason.

If I do more, it means more to make up for my lazy days which is bound to happen.

:D I know, amazing plan, true?


I know you're probably wondering what the hell is my novel about. Well, to put it simply, the vampires in it won't sparkle. HAH.

Okay, its a mix of science fiction, romance, fantasy and adventure. For now. You writers know how crazy those plot bunnies are. They keep changing their mind and this novel might end up an erotic fiction I can't show off to my parents.

God, please no.

Not that I'm gonna show off to my parents, who barely know or care that I write. I'll just show it off to future boyfriends and wow them with my words. Okay, I got sidetracked there a bit.

*clears throat*

What is this novel about?

Well, erm, that would be telling ;)

Wahahahaha.

Fine, I admit it. I don't know how to explain it yet, but maybe when I've reached like, 10,000 words or something, I'll give you guys a chance to read an excerpt :D

Deal?

As long as you guys only read it and act suprised when the book gets published and Hanis ends up richhhh and famous with her own Wiki page.

.....

Did I say that out loud?

Oh well, a girl can dream.

I'm off for a nap now =)

Peace Out.

We Treated Love Like a Sport.