Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Confession no.20

When I get pissed off,

I'll be all passive aggressive with you

Wonderfully so.

Friday, May 27, 2011

Bitching About a Bitch.

It has been quite some time that a girl made my blood boil like a witch's potion in a cauldron. Or is that bubbling? It also has been some time since a girl has made me reacted with such emotions and makes me want to break into a song. Or more like one of those screaming metal songs that are full of beeped out words.

I don't get mad/annoyed/dislike someone easily. But when I do, there's no turning back. I'll find faults in every single step you take, every single word you utter and every glance in my way is an invitation to be bitch smacked.

I know, its immature of me but I've never claimed I act my age, true?

To get to the real story, there's this girl who makes me want to scream into a pillow from pent-up annoyance and anger. Why?

1. She treats me as if I'm a kid and dumb.

2. She's bossy.

3. She's a power hungry bitch.

4.. She often uses phrases like "Hanis, you have to sweep the floor. You know how to, right? Surely your mother has taught you,"

Bitch, that is low. And FYI, we use the vaccum cleaner at home.

And because I just reallly despise everything about her, I'm irked by her way of speech. She talks deliberately and slow, as if I'm dumb.

Hanis stares at seal oil and asked if its better or the same as fish oil.

Girl who irks Hanis but teaching about the items goes all Ahhhh.

"Seal oil is better. What is a seal, Hanis? Do you know what it is?"- in a very "You're young and dumb" tone.

This took place in Malay apart from the word "seal oil" and "fish oil,".

Its like someone asking me, girl who's doing maths if she knows how to integrate (I'll integrate your ass).

Do you see why my annoyance went from meh to asdkaskjdakjdakjakl? Is it unreasonable? No. And blerggggghhhh.

*takes a deep breath*

I'm seriously considering quitting my job. Mama is okay with it as long as I look for another job and tell the boss the exact reason of my quitting. Oh yes I will. No holding back.

As Mozart will say, I've bitched about her everywhere the past day.

Peace Out.

A Letter for Guys.

Dear guys,

Do accept the fact that girls will tell their friends about 80% of the things that went on between you and her. Its the way girls are. Wives gossip. Girlfriends gossip. Even that girl who you're having a "thing" with gossips. Only about 5% of girls don't.

So do get over it and don't be hopping mad because she told her friend what you guys did during the weekend or how you made up or why you fought. Girls need a 2nd look at it, so they'll get a much better understanding of such situation.

As long as we're not telling about how you can't get it up, the time you dressed like a frenchmaid or how you're deathly afraid of spiders, then shut up.


Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Twist, Lick and Dunk? Hell No.

As a kid, I remember sitting with my dad with a packet of Oreos between us. We didn't split the dozen or so cookies into two. We had another simple method. Dad took the white cream part while I gobble up the cookies.

Brilliant, right?

That is exactly why I was slightly disgusted by the whole 'Twist, Lick, Dunk" campaign that has been going on for years now. I hate the cream with a passion, and can now, at this age tolerate two Oreos without wanting to scrape the cream off with a knife.

Unless you're talking about the Oreos with peanut butter & chocolate cream, now those are heavenly. A bit like Reese's if I might say.

Twist seems to be a logical move to get the top cookie off without breaking it into two. I can do that.

Lick. Do you lick a piece of fried chicken and dip it into chilli sauce? Or perhaps lick a french fry and dip it into ketchup? Or any other food.

Dip. Into the milk. Making it all wet and crumbly perhaps. Dripping milk all over the place. Your lap. The desk.


So if you ever want to share a packet of Oreos with me, make sure its the peanut butter/chocolate filling or bring a damn butter knife and be ready to get sick from all that cream.

Hidden Lesson. Find It.

Dear guy who came in for a hot water bottle,

Thank you for making me smile the rest of my shift with the "I don't believe this" look you shared with me over how some people just stop listening at a question after the first few words. And also for the "Oh god, I can't believe this," look when the 2nd and 3rd time of repeating the question was once again answered with a totally wrong answer.

When finally, the correct one came, you made me stop feeling like a sub-par sales assistant by deliberately taking the hot/cold pack from my colleague and giving it to me with a twinkle in your eyes and a "I'll take it". That was a snub on my colleague, for sure.

Thank you for the smile after you paid for the item, you certainly gave my esteem a boost. I do hope you come again.


Friday, May 20, 2011

I'm a Bookworm. Universal Fact.

I'm on a roll of ebooks. Reading one after another. Right now, I'm reading Jodi Picoult's Sing Me Home and like all of her books I've read before, it makes me feel things. It makes me think. Seriously, Jodi Picoult's books are ... amazing. For me.

In case you're wondering, they're legal fiction, or perhaps like John Grisham but not so dry. I've read her books about a rape case, murder pact but where only one died, euthanasia, mass killing at a school and kidnapping. In all of her books, she's telling the story from the defender's part. Showing you how things could be.

The current one touch about same-sex couples and about them having children. You know what I feel about homosexuality. Its a matter of indifference for me. They're happy that way. End of story.

If you're interested to read the novel, do download it from here, yes its free and I quote from Marian Keyes' Other Side of the Story:

"What I like better than a book is a free book,"

If you're not interested, that wonderful blog also contains many other free ebooks to download. Its like a gold mine to me, and other bookworms. Just take a look at the list of authors at the side and I'm sure you'll be drooling. Or screaming in pleasure.

If only a guy will come up to me and tell me:

"I'll love you at any weight, consider you gorgeous at any age and buy any books your heart desire"

My life would be perfect.

What I Want.

I want to sit in a cave, throw rugs all over the floor with fat cushions to lean against. Books in crates with chocolates, dark chocolate please, for me to nibble on as I let myself wander into the different world each book offers.

I want it to rain pins and needles as I enjoy myself, raining hard upon him, hurting him bit by bit. Hacking on his flesh bit by bit as he vainly tries to look for shelter. He'll fall to his knees near the cave entrance, wanting to beg. Grovel as the grass under him changes colour with his blood.

I want him to feel the pain he has inflicted. To cry the tears that I did.

I want guilt to consume his very being. Darkening his soul as he wander aimlessly, mumbling his sins to himself as people stare. Ignoring his appearance as he stagger through the day, calling out for me and my forgiveness.

That's what I want now.

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Pencil, Please.

Take a pencil,
Never a pen of any colour,
Make it blunt or sharp,
Dark or faded,
Short or long,
Any pencil will do,
Scribble write draw,
All over or just on the corners,
Of my piece of paper,
I'll just take an eraser,
Patiently erasing every single dot and line,
Leaving it clean, crumpled,
No hideously obvious,
Doings of yours.

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

Poem For a Boy.

Dear boy,
Stop talking and spilling,
Sweet lies from your lips,
Running all over my skin,
Stroking down my spine,
Landing deep in my heart,
Ripples and splashes galore,
An echo of false promises,
Your lips gave to my heart.

Confession No.19

I'm happy.

I'm trying to be happy.

So I tell myself that I'm happy.

Do I look happy to you?

Saturday, May 14, 2011

Random Letter No.4

Dear Random Person No.4,

Have you ever read a romance novel? Or perhaps a chick romance where the girl falls for the boy who is ever so charming. Boy then turn to a jerk, who's more content to do other things than talk to girl. Girl persists. Boy stays the same. Girl eventually gives up. Boy finally realises that he let a treasure slipped out of his hands. Of course you have. Well, I do hope your life won't be like that.

Sincerely, Hanis.

Random Letter No.3

Dear Random Person No.3,

I've tried so hard. I cursed. I lined my heart with steel. I pumped up my self-will with steroid so it will be stronger. My head keep telling me "Hanis, give up. Its been years. Just fucking give up," and my heart, crying out with angry tears "She has tried so many times. Its not her fault she failed each and every time,"

Its stupid, right?

So do stop appearing in my dreams. Do stop appearing and being ever so sweet in them. Do stop making me sigh in happiness before waking up in sadness. I'm not willing to put my heart on a block and let your straight-to-the-point rejection blade take more than few fair sized slices out of it.

All I see is that you have to stop being in my thoughts, an uninvited presence or just come in straight into my life and be who I want you to be. Until that, which is never going to happen, please stop visiting me at night in my dreams.

Love, Hanis.

Thursday, May 12, 2011

I Write This With Aching Feet. Seriously.

Remember my list of things to do after finals are over?

Well, one of them is "Look for a job" so I can get money to buy stuffs and guess what?

I just finished my 3rd shift at a pharmacy as a Sales Assistant.

How is it like? Well, I'm on bloody break from uni and I have to learn all about vitamins, supplements and the whatnot. The only thing I can't do is prescribe medicine.
Can you imagine the torture?

Yes, it has nothing to do with my degree of evil Actuarial Science but hey, in the long run, I'll be more knowledgeable about vitamins and supplements, hence affecting my own way of life.

I'm also deathly afraid of customers asking me things when I don't remember the placements

Another effect is that my list of things to buy has expanded, thanks to spending time inside the pharmacy. Such as:

1) A leave-on hair cream for hair breakage.
2)A lotion that smells like butter.
3)Glitter eyeliner.
4)The whole set of bodycare that smells like butter or milk.

I admit, I spend most of my money either at bookstores or pharmacies. Let's hope there won't be employee's discount or I can just think half of my paycheck will be returned to the bosses, thanks to my buying tons of stuff there.

So, here's to 4 months(hopefully) of me learning and making moolah. Let's hope I won't spend it all in a hurry.

Peace Out.

Yes, this explains why I haven't blogged much/lenghty-wise lately.

Confession no.18

Moss and vines

Creeping and crawling over me

As I stand here like a statue

Waiting so foolishly

For your attention


What about me?

Carbon Neutral? You Bet Your Ass.

So, after spying this cute little icon on some blogs I'm following, my curiousity got the better of me.

A tree per blog that participate. Yes, you read that right. The tree will effectively neutralise the blog's carbon footprint for the next 50 years.

Just remind me, to do this again, so another tree will be planted when I'm 72, alright?

Since I've covered my blog's carbon footprint, what about you? Do ittttt. The cute icon above comes in 3 different colours. Green, blue and pink.

Peace Out.

Monday, May 9, 2011

Confession No.17

What about me?

Confession no.16

I see the others,

I think,

Why not me?

Sunday, May 8, 2011

Not Being My Mature Age.

Warning: This might be seen as an emo-ish, sad-ish,self-absorbed-ish,angst-ish and others. Do skip if its not to your liking.

There's this feeling where to describe it, I have to use a Malay saying.

Tepuk sebelah tangan

It means, clapping with only one hand. Which, is not going to make any sound, unless you're clapping your hand against a hard surface. People use that saying mostly to talk about unrequited interest/love. It needs two to tango. And so on. You get me?

No, I'm not specifically talking about that but, the feeling is nearly similiar. You feel .. stupid. As if, you're the only one who gives a care about the ... thing between you. You were fed with false hope, your own mainly came from their lies and tales on how much they care. And one day, when you're in deep, when you know that you're hooked, you realise the truth.

You're like standing there and you see it. Just how much of a fool you're making of yourself. That you feel as if this is, if asked, how you'll write a letter to said person.Do you get the feeling right now?

Mozart asked me who am I talking about this morning. But I have this tiny thing called ego. But I assured him its not him.

To that person, thank you very much. Last time I felt like this was a year ago, when I was with No.3 and everyone knows what an idiotassholejerk he was. I would like to say that you're better. But who knows, right? Am I mad at you?(Is known for being mad emotionally at people so easily) No, I'm not. More of mad at myself. Am I sad? Of course.

So I promise you today, I won't seek you out. I won't talk to you unless you do. I won't wish you luck though I always will in my heart. I won't tease you about that roommate of yours. I won't let myself be pathetic again.

Putting it simply, if you care/want me, you have to start. Until then, I'll miss you.

Mozart helped me with a line this morning, on what to say to that person but for now, ignorance is really what one should achieve. Not dislike/hatred. Though a part of me is so tempted to, oh well.

Peace Out.

Thursday, May 5, 2011

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

Let Me Smack Some Sense Into Your Head.

If you ask Mozart what's one thing that will rile me up more than Edward Cullen being voted Sexiest Vampire over Spike is people generalising culture, people, society and religion. I remember wanting to smack the back of his head while screaming "Asia is made up of more than just East Asia!!" a while ago. Another online friend got my wrath when he said how Asia is lacking behind in the Health sector.

Hey, I get that. Malaysia is still waiting for the top-notch equipments but as far as I know, we got all the vaccines needed in this time. So, I gave him an online smack on the head, telling him "Parts of Asia!! Not the whole freaking continent!"

Do you see the pattern now?

So, recently, I came across someone generalising a very sensitive issue. Religion. Or Muslims.

I know. Hanis should stay away from religious/homosexual topics.

So, it started with the topic of a woman wearing a burqa. You know, where they cover their faces with that veil thingie? For your information, in Islam, the women are allowed to show their faces, hence the hijab, where only the head is covered. Why the burqa? That came from living in the desert climate. Sand. Hot air. Better off to cover their faces, right?

Its a case of culture mixing into religion, you get me?

So, this person went on how:

1) Muslim men are allowed to marry as many women as possible.
2) Women are treated like animals, having no rights.
3)Women are bound and shrink away due to fear.
4)Islam promotes violence.
5) Women has to hold on to their virginities while men are allowed to have "fun"

And so on. What irks me more is when someone tries to correct them, the person was stubborn with her views. Like, as if she had lived among Muslims all around the world her whole life. So, here I'am, getting all irked and screaming at the laptop and complaining to Mozart.

Listen here lady, and other people out there who are still in that habit of looking at one section of a group/religion/culture and think that is how the whole group is, this is a wonderful explanation for you.

First and foremost, stop thinking and acting as if Muslims = Arabs. You're so fucking wrong. We got Chinese Muslims. We got Russian Muslims. We got Japanese Muslims. We got Indian Muslims. We got Caucasian Muslims. You name it. I'm not so sure about Eskimo Muslims though.

Secondly, your narrow view of Islam is focused on the Arabs. You look at how they mix their culture into religion and think that its all Islam. Wrong. Knock that thought out of your head before I smack it out for you.

1) Maximum number of wives: 4. FOUR. Not "as much as possible". And before you start going on how unfair it is, there are certain requirements the men must fulfill before they're able to take on a 2nd wife. Let me say this now, stop fucking looking at that one section of Muslims and think the first wife has no say in this! Geez.

2) I'm treated like an animal? Like oh my fucking gosh. Dad, are you treating me like an animal?

He must be a really nice man for letting me pursue a degree in Actuarial Science(ain't no easy degree to obtain), drive around for the past 5 years, wear jeans, not *gasps* cover my face, go out without a chaperone and not beating me up when I talk to a guy.

Yes, these are all the normal assumptions I came across. No, my parents won't slaughter me for talking to a guy. They won't whip me till I bleed for walking around with my face uncovered. If I do mention how they'll kill/ slaughter/skin my hide, its all a joke.

3) I don't live in fear. Apart from fear of not meeting the one, failing my papers and so on. I swear I don't.

4)I've always believed if you want to know how a religion really is, untainted by culture/politics/perceptions, you have to go into a class full of little kids and sit with them as they are taught their religion.

You guys sit there, acting all I'm-so-smart spitting out "jihad", "get n virgins for killing an infidel" and so on. Do you know what you guys are doing? Its like me, listening to a biased opinion on the Bible. Or picking up a Bible and read it, using my own prejudiced mind in getting the meaning.

Hey, I do jihad everyday I go to class. Do you know that? I fucking bet most of you don't.

5) By now, I hope you've stop thinking Muslims = Arabs. And its like this, I'm saving myself up for marriage. I don't say "Cause my religion say so," or "My parents will kill me if I even touch a guy's hand". I say "I'm a bleeding romantic who wants to save herself for that one guy,".

Where does the notion of guys not having to save themselves come from? Bull fucking shit.

If I marry a Muslim, he better fucking be a virgin because it signifies he at least, had followed this part.

If I marry a convert, then I don't mind.

Saying all of that, if you still have that Muslims = Arabs mindset, I'm going to smack you. Its like me looking at the Irish Catholics and think "This is how Christians are,". Do you see how stupid that is?

I'm done.

Peace Out.

Monday, May 2, 2011

Lucky Me.

Why am I lucky to be me?

This is definitely a post of optimism, not one to air out my shortcomings.

So, why am I lucky as hell to be Hanis? Not just any Hanis, but the Hanis who went through her first few online years by the name fahanizhieliq. Yes, do go and google that name if you want to. Don't if you can't be bothered to.

I'm lucky because I wasn't born into an extreme Muslim family/environment. Which makes me lucky because not only am I allowed to drive, pursue a degree in Actuarial Science, wear jeans and sunnies, not cover my face, go out with my friends without chaperones and basically have just as much rights as a guy.

I'm lucky because I'm not beautiful. That saved me from having an ego. From having such high expectations of "Beautiful people should be together" and constantly be obsessed of my looks. I'm not bombarded by sleazy looks and compliments, saving me from any awkward moments.

I'm lucky that I haven't had a perfect record of education. I have slightly above average smartness with laziness too which has brought down 6 failures in my diploma. Why is this lucky? It taught me the meaning of failure. It made me humble. It taught me that those people who never knew failure, is missing out on a major life lesson.

I'm lucky that I have a passion for writing because when I'm cursing all the mathematics I'm doing, I know I can relax with a short session of writing.

I'm lucky that I have my memory to fall back on. That I know reading subjects will be able to help me out.

I'm lucky to have had bad friends. It only taught me to appreciate good ones even more.

I'm lucky I wasn't pampered by my parents. I'm not a spoiled brat.

And most of all, I'm lucky to be me because I'm able to write all of this using what people will say as my "weaknesses" and make them the reasons why I'm pretty darn lucky to be me.

Think About It.


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