Freedom!

Smell the air.

If you're anywhere near me, you'll be smelling freedom. Yes ladies and gentlemen, Hanis is free. She is no longer shackled by the chains of finals. No longer a slave to 10-hour studying days. While studying for the last paper (which was barely 10 hours ago), I was all pumped up to do several things.

Hanis' Thoughts Last Night

I'm going to burn my books!
I'm going to giggle to myself while rolling around in bed!
I'm going to scream and run out of the exam hall!
I'm going to throw all the papers I've used from the 9th floor of the hostel!
I'm going to run down the hallway half naked!

What Really Happened

Hanis answers paper demurely.
Hanis leaves hall 45 minutes early.
Hanis sits with friend, waiting for others.
Hanis eats lunch.
Hanis naps for 3 hours.


And you know what they say about the best laid plans..

Peace Out.

Lessons from a Study Room.

Being so close to the equator, Malaysia is blessed with sun, sun and sun all year long. Hot and wet, as my Geography book had described the country's climate. Here, at the hostel, we have two study rooms, a Snooker room, 3 TV rooms and a computer lab. All of these except the TV rooms are equipped with air conditioning.

I'm a frequent user of one of the study rooms, appreciating the cold and discussions with my classmates as we kill ourselves study our asses off for the finals. Is the study room quiet? No. Its used for discussion and studying. If one wants quiet, they're more likely to find it in their own room. For the past two nights, I've been cursing some of the other ... people in the study room who I might call as ... idiotic.

1. Its a STUDY room.

Use it to study, do a discussion, finish a project. Not fucking watch a movie on your laptop while the 4 of you munch on snacks, fully appreciating the sounds coming from the plugged in small speakers. The same goes for the two girls who decided to watch some Youtube clips, minus headphones. Like, girls, I'm sure the TV room will so appreciate your visual entertainment but some people here, don't.

I do pity that you guys didn't hear my "This is a fucking study room not tv room," and "Am I in the wrong room?" remarks that were made with such a dark air, the Grim Reaper would have fled from me. Tonight, if it happens again, I'll just go to your desk calmly and smile sweetly before asking if you girls have totally confused minds because last time I checked, the TV room is on the lower floor.


2. If you can't stand the cold, go back to your room.

I can tolerate, one of the air conditioners being switched off but both? Without asking the others you flounce your skinny ass off your chair, all wrapped in a sweater and socks before hitting that off button? I get pissed like a she-bear having her honey taken away. And to be idiotic enough to not turn on the ceiling fans? Are you trying to fucking kill me with no air circulation?

You must be pretty deaf for not to hear my comments on how I feel hard to breathe. Tonight, whichever fat-deprived bitch switches off the air conditioners will get a nice "Go fucking study somewhere else," from me. The room is not even quiet for you to give the "Its peaceful here," excuse.


3. That table does not belong to your father. So, stop fucking make it unavailable to others.

There's 5 large tables that sits 4 comfortably each. I've been known to share a table with 5 friends because some idiots believe in studying there, leaving for lunch, books all spread out before coming back in after lunch, siesta, tea time. Let's not even start on how you never take your books off the table as you go to bed and dissapear for hours.The number of people who peeked in to see if there's any empty spots? Countless.

Your face when you come back to see me sitting there with your stuffs pushed to one corner of the table? Priceless.


Putting that aside, I've sat for 4 papers and got my last one on Saturday. A picnic on a beach on Sunday with the classmates will wrap this semester up nicely, don't you think?

Peace Out.

A Picture of a Cute Guy.

Oh, it is love.

My excuse? I'm lazy.

Thinking Of.

I'm interested in being a tutor. Maths of course. Or maybe a learning companion to some of those rich highschool kids. I won't be able to cope with teaching a group of more than 5-6 kids, so I guess I'll have to forget about applying to be a tuition teacher at a centre nearby.


Lil bro said I'll end up smacking kids on the back of their heads when they don't get what I'm teaching.

I beg to differ, I'm more patient when it comes to other kids.

Peace Out.

Try to Feel.

I'm sure most of you have went through several stages in life. It comes with age and experience. And everytime you'll get to a certain point where you get this feeling, this sudden thought that you've moved on to that next stage. Sometimes its a relief. But, most of the time, you might get sad.


Case in point, when you realised your childhood is behind you. That you have to move on, leaving behind that part of your life as something you'll never get back. Once in a while, you'll flip through the photo album and feel emotions pouring out at the memories. You'll giggle at some funny moment before ending up crying, tears falling onto the photo album's cover as you realise that you've said goodbye to all of those.


But you know that without that part of your life, you won't be who you are right now. And you're not the same person now as back then. You'll keep the photo album away in a box under your bed before cracking open a new album, ready for the first picture.



I hope I've put that feeling into you, painted it clear enough so you can close your eyes and feel the pain that hides behind your heart. And you'll hear that inner whisper of encouragement. To stay strong. And not grieve the passing because its all for the best.



Why?


That's how I feel right now. I'm finally making a decision to just move on.

Nearing the First.

I'm 20 hours away from my first paper, Advanced Financial Math.

Which makes it 44 hours away from my second paper, Economics. Which reminds me, my coursemarks for that subject is 40.9/50, putting me 3rd in a class of 24. I would have been 2nd if I didn't messed up my 2nd quiz.

I just finished reading an e-book of "The Perks of Being a Wallflower" by Stephen Chbosky and oh my gosh, I love it so much. I'll be telling people to read it. Because its simply amazing. Go find a free download for it, there's plenty. Or ask me and I'll email it to you.

Alright, time to go and continue studying. Wooot. I'm at my most productive in years.

Peace Out.

Battle.

To battle we go,
Cunning minds sharpened,
Swords dipped in colours of bruises,
Slashes through the lines,
No hesitation just confidence,
Pardon the hidden fear,
The invisible tears,
I'm ready the soldier says,
To battle he go.

I'm Looking Forward to The Finals! No, I Lied.

Everytime doomsday finals approach, I'll make a list of things to look forward to. To give me motivation through the torture studying and stressing and screaming into my pillow on why didn't I fucking studied it all earlier. Same thing, again and again.

I'm talking about the list, not the screaming-into-a-pillow part. That part has been happening ever since highschool when I realised my smartness has a limit with a big fat ass sign that says:

"You need to sit your ass down and fucking study. You ain't got a photographic memory bitch,"

So I bet all of you most of you some of you are curious.

The List of Things to Do Once Its Over.

1. Download all the ebooks from that wonderful blog and fucking read them. Savour them.

2. Drag the little brother to the nearest theme park and go fucking bungee jumping there after taking all the thrill rides.

3. Stalk that one guy

3.Watch Pirates of the Carribean! Johnny Depp I <3 you!

4. Write more stories.

5.Burn all the notes from this semester

5. Sleep more.

6. Rub it in little brother's nose that I got 4 months off.

7. Look for a job at a wonderful place. Read: Bookstore, ice-cream store, video store. Anywhere but fast-food.

There, time to do some Financial Math past years papers.

Peace Out.

Fact, Story, Important, Facts, Conclusion, More Facts and Conclusion.

Fact:

I have a thing for Caucasian guys. Its not simply white/fair skinned guys because there are other fair skinned ethnics. This is known by most of my friends. And no, it doesn't mean I'm racist in someways. Just that I get gaga easier over Caucasian guys.

Story:

Last night, I went to study at a nearby 24-hour McDonald's near the uni wih 3 of my friends. Yes, it is possible unless you're someone who has to be in complete silence during study time. We were there for about 5 hours, sitting at a long table with the 2nd floor around us slowly getting quiet as more and more people left the place. The ground floor however, is another story with there being a football match on tv at 3am (MU vs somethingsomething)

Around 1am, I was sleepy eyed, looking around at my friends' cups of coffee with a shudder as I remembered how they tasted. I had my trusty 1.5 litre bottle of mineral water and a slowly melting large Coke which taste like dishwater.

Around 2am, I got fresh energy for no reason and got back into my studying.

Around 2.30 am, my once wide awake friends got sleepy and we decided that enough was enough. We need bed.

Important bit:

Going downstairs, I was casually looking at the menu above the counters, wondering if I should buy something when one of my friend called me so I turned to the left:

"Yes, darling?"

At once, I saw my friends cheeky faces and that oh-my-god-so-tasty guy. Yes, it was a tall, dark blonde, grey-blue eyed with glasses and oh so good looking Caucasian guy. He was staring at the menu before stepping up to make an order at the cashier. Behind him, with only my friends as an audience,thankfully with most of the patrons staring at the football match on telly, I was mouthing the words:

Oh my god. Sooo handsome.

Before promptly skipping off to line up behind him, my mind up to order a chocolate milkshake.

Fact: I don't like milk.

Fact 2: That was the first time I ever tried a milkshake.

Fact 3: I should have ordered an apple pie.

Fact 4: I love those apple pies.

Conclusion of the story:

I'm utterly hopeless at the sight of a somewhat attractive Caucasian guy. I get teased about the incident.

Fact 5: This is Malaysia, we don't have that much Caucasian guys walking around in all of their hotness.

Fact 6: Mozart will be "This is so Hanis" when he reads this.

Conclusion of this post:

I need to move somewhere with tons of Caucasian guys. Anyone want to offer me a place to live? I'm gooood with cleaning up and baking/cooking some items. *winksandnudges Delaney*

Peace Out.

If I Go Missing, Don't Panic. Finals Are Near.

If you smell the air around here, you'll be aware of how it truly smells like doom. Or more known to others as finals.

At my uni, finals are spanned out over 3 weeks after a so-called study week.

Study week = False impression of having a week off to study.

In reality, it depends on when your first paper is. This semester, is truly bad luck for me. I have 5 papers and the first one is on the 20th of this month.

*hears Hades calling her to his lair*
If one is to be lucky, there will be a respectful minimum 2 days gap between each papers, right? My 2nd paper is on the 21st.

*feels chains wrapping around her ankles*

I'm doomed dear readers. No amount of godchildren will help me. But thank god there will be 6 days between the 2nd and 3rd paper.

27th

28th

30th

*sighs bravely*

And I once had missed the craziness and tension that comes with finals. I've craved the studying. The panicking. The mental pep-talk to not lose it because Mama will totally kill me if I do badly, again.

If this week is to be free, then it will be a blessing because I'll be able to prepare myself. Is it? No. I got a bleeding presentation and 4 tests (1 is over with, 1 is a take-home test, 1 is a pre-test and the last 1 is the test to the pre-test)

Blantant advertising: I got a Tumblr. Visit it. Godchild as a free gift.

Mozart, you'll have to go through two weeks without me or cope with brief, panicky talks with me. Better prepare your pep-talk. Things to include:

"Hanis, you won't fail,"

"Your parents won't kill you,"

"I know you're smart so go get your ass to some studying,"

"You can do it,"

If you do that, I'll marry you if both of us are still single when I'm 26.

Yes, I just proposed.

I'm off to finish my presentation. Do leave me comments, alright?

Peace Out.

The Grim Reaper.

She was sitting on a stone bench facing an old church, leaves falling slowly all around her as she waited. What was another ten minutes after ten years? Her posture was straight, and she sat still as her eyes kept on gazing at the double doors, closed tightly to any latecomers.

The sounds of soft footsteps approached her before stopping right beside her, waiting for any acknowledgement. Slowly sliding her gaze to the newcomer, she saw a face she hadn't seen in ten years. It was still as wickedly good looking as she remembered. Grim dark eyes that sparkled when the lips formed a smile.

"Your hair has grown longer,"

Rolling his eyes he took a seat beside her, brushing his palm over the top of his head to the braid that ran past his shoulder. The dark length shined in the sun even though they sat under shade. He was dressed simply in a black turtleneck and black pants, complete with shiny black shoes. Against his pale complexion he was impressive looking.

"Your patience has grown,"

Scoffing softly she ran a hand down the length of her cream coloured lace dress, noticing how her fingers trembled. Clasping her hands together she dragged her eyes away from the double doors to look at him.

"I realise how ... lucky I'am compare to others,"

"I sense a 'but',"

"Isn't it unfair?"

Frowning, brows furrowed, the man resisted hugging her, touched by the emotions on her face. Taking out a pocketwatch from an inner pocket, he cleared his face of emotions before giving a small smile.

"For the others? Or for them?"

"Them,"

From behind the double doors across the street, a commotion could be heard. Turning sharply to look at the source of sound, she felt glued to her seat. Scared. Worried. Wishing she had the power to change the way things were going. Beside her, he stood up, resting a comforting hand on her shoulder, squeezing softly.

"Trust me, it might seem unfair now, but it won't be in the end,"

Smoothing his hand over her cheek, he offered his hand to her, a wise look on his face as the commotion got louder, closer.

"Come. He's been waiting."

Taking the hand, she stood up on unsteady knees, hands cold as she stared at the doors, thrown wide open suddenly to let out a figure dressed in a black tuxedo, vivid blood red hair setting off the severity of the outfit. Unable to move or take another breath, she stared as the man ran down the steps, not looking back as more figures appeared at the church's entrance.

"Come back!"

A beautiful woman cried out, wondrous in a long white dress that hugged her svelte figure, a bouquet of lillies falling from her hand as she ran after her intended. At the bottom of the steps, the redhead turned, regret and sadness radiating from his very person.

"I'm sorry ... but I just can't."

Feeling her companion's hand slipping from hers, the female observor turned to look into grim dark eyes that were telling her its time. Taking in a shaky breath, she took a step closer, out of the shade as the man across the street turned back, sadness etched on every line of his face. As she watched the man cross the street without looking, she felt a familiar dark feeling coming.

"No!"

Closing her eyes just in time, she missed how the fast paced car rammed into the tuxedo fitted body, throwing him into the air before falling back onto the road, bleeding and not moving. The blood mixed with his hair as a crowd ran out of the church in horror.

Sobs. Cries. Screams filled the air as she opened her eyes again, staring at the still body, slowly getting colder. Around it was a smartly dressed crowd. His family. Another family. Some familiar faces. Her friend walked past all of them and kneeled beside the body, touching his hand upon the blood covered forehead, closing his eyes as he whispered something.

And just seen by her and her friend, the redhead male stood up with dazed eyes, looking down at the body at his feet before looking around at the frantic crowd. Reaching out a hand to touch his mother' shoulder, he found it impossible to do so. As her friend told him words, the exact ones he told her ten years ago, she saw understanding coming to his face, the green eyes serious as he gave a nod.

"I'm dead it seems,"

The two of them were still standing in the middle, unseen by the others as they had a quiet conversation, only heard by her ears as she remained standing on the sidewalk, still scared to bring attention to herself.

"You're the .. Grim Reaper?"

"I ditched the whole robe, scary aura thing aeons ago. Had to stop the recently dead from screaming their throats out at seeing me,"

"Where do we go from here? Heaven, hell, or somewhere in between?"

Chuckling, the Grim Reaper shook his head, the braid sliding over his shoulder as he pushed the redhead through the crowd by his elbow, the sign for her to be prepared. To not run in fear. To make sure her heart is where it is, not in her mouth where she's unable to speak. Taking another step forward, she heard the Reaper's wise voice.

"More like to someone who's been waiting the past decade,"

The question died on the redhead's lips when he saw her there. In her cream coloured lace dress that fell to her knees, long dark hair down, brown eyes nervous as she smiled shakily at him. She took another step, her tongue wetting her lips as she tried to recall the words she has planned during her wait. Ten years of preparing a speech. All gone out of the window.

In the end, not a single word were needed as he ran to her, sweeping her into his arms, face buried in her hair as he took in the scent he's been dreaming off all this time. Ever since he had to let her go. To move on as she died in his arms in a hospital room ten years ago.

"God, I've missed you so much,"

Over his shoulder, the Grim Reaper gave a wave to her before walking away, an impressive figure in black. Tightening her hold, she pressed a kiss to the base of his neck. Passing on every emotions that went through her from the start. They were finally together again. And this time, they have forever together.

A Morning of Destressing.

Like a domesticated goddess, I tend to bake when I'm stressed. Back in highschool, I often made brownies. Wonderful gooey chocolatey goodness.

Then, when I moved into the hostel for uni, I baked once a semester, usually when its near the finals. And true to that, today, I tried my hand at two things I never did before.

Bagels

. Sausage rolls.

Yes, its nothing compared to anything with CHOCOLATE but I love love love bagels (in fact, any plain tasting baked goods) and here in Malaysia, its very very very hard to find them. So when I came across a recipe, I told myself, I'll bake it.

It took me about two hours to:

-Defrost the pastry for the sausage rolls (Not really baking, but still)

-Make the dough for the bagles

-Grill some burgers for the brother's lunch

-Make gravy for leftovers mash potatoes

-Roll the pastry in an ugly fashion around the sausages

-Pop them into the oven

-Form the bagles into an ugly shape, only one came out nicely. I got one in a pretzel form.

-Boil those

-Pop those into the oven

-Clean up the mess

-Get a compliment from the brother on the sausage rolls with him asking me if I can make it for his school's Carnival Day.

-Asked by the brother why are the bagles so plain tasting.



Whew. I think after the finals, I'll be baking something chocolate. Or make the fake cheesecake. Its wonderfulllly goood.

Now, time to clean up more mess.

Coming up, a story that Mozart thinks is too morbid.

Peace Out.

Complaining and Being Thankful.

Being a university student for the past 45 months, I have had a handful of complaints and one I usually have/hear around April and October aka the couple of weeks before finals:

Tests everyday. Every lecturer thinking their subject is the only one we're taking. Assignments, projects, paperworks, presentations. How the hell are we supposed to study for the finals?

My first paper is on the 20th of this month, to be followed on the 21st, 27th, 28th and 30th. Yes, 16 days from my first paper, don't remind me. I'm having nightmares from it without any reminders.

How does my schedule look like for the upcoming 16 days?

Full. And that's not including studying for the papers.

I have a test in Economics tommorow on the macroeconomic section. And a group presentation for the same subject the day after.

This morning I had my Writing test for Arabics(don't bloody ask) and was whining inwardly to that voice in my head how in the world am I supposed to study for the test, write the report and prepare the slideshows(my part of the presentation) when there's Actuarial Math at 10.30 and Financial Math at 4. That's when.

*hear the dung-dung-dung-what's next? music playing*

At 10, I received a text on how the former is cancelled. And no, I haven't spent the last few hours napping. I've been studying 3 out of the 5 chapters for Economics.

And just 20 mins ago, Sue Slyvester told me "Your resentment, is deliciouss" (a text came in) and I must say, I was looking to the heavens(ceiling of the study room) and felt so grateful because it was another cancelled class.

But, I have to write one page on something. Wait, Malaysia's Market Structure(I think) and submit it on Wednesday.

Coming to the point of this post:

Sometimes, I feel like the lecturers are kind and compassionate and all-knowing for cancelling classes when the students have things due.

*goes back to searching information*

Peace Out.

Cooking for Two.

Menu at Cafe Gorgeous

Grilled meat patties eaten with white bread slathered thickly with homemade tartar sauce and thick gravy.

Chips, salted lightly and sprinkled with herbs.

Ice-blended chocolate & coffee drink.


Hopefully this will curb my craving for chocolate mint bubble tea(Already had 4 this week) and fish&chips.

Say it 40 Times, Wish Granted.

Back in highschool, I heard the saying if people said something 40 times, it will come true. I was like pffffft at that. Now I'm still waiting for it to come true.

Mozart calls me hopeless. If he's allowed to be more ... straightforward and brutally honest, I bet he'll slap me and tell me to quit wanting something I'll never get.

Simply read :Get over it. Build a slide, slide over the damn longing.

I've tried. A gazillion times since the start. Did it worked? What do you think? Yeap, epic fail. In someways, I've managed to beat it into a lazy slumber, once in a while waking up and walking around.

Of course, I've expressed interest in others from time to time. That dies down if I didn't compare the person of the moment with the person of my life.

If we were in a novel, this would have been a wonderful love story about waiting and believing that one person will be yours. Yet, this is life. All I'm coming out as is hopeless or pathetic.

Oh well. Here's to waiting and hoping. *toast a glass of chocolate mint bubble tea*

Quick Note.

I disabled anonymous comments. And put up Captcha again. Sorry readers.