Its a Shallow Pool We're From.

There's two kinds of guys. The first one proclaims, with a degree of honesty, that they value appearances. The second one however, bangs on how about inner beauty and personality are core. This group can be divided into two with a ratio of 9:1. The majority to me, is such a mystery since they go crazy for that oh-so-pretty girl who can't be bitchier if she tried when there's a perfectly nice girl who's not as attractive.

Like, what the fuck is that?

Mozart said that people are fundamentally shallow.

Noelle said that those guys were probably hoping that there will be a somewhat decent personality under all those oozing hotness.

What do I say?

I think that people are too hung up by what society think is attractive. That a person wants to be with someone who they'll be able to gloat about, to get approval for. Its an ego thing. You have someone who's attractive in society's eyes, your own ratings increase.

Fuck. That.

I've heard:

"Yeah, she can be a bit bitchy/controlling/clingy but damn, she's hot"

But never:

"She might not be so pretty but she's soo great"

Now now, don't think I'm just banging on how guys are shallow shitheads. Girls can be too. But think of this, I've seen more couples where the girl is far more attractive compare to couples where the guy is far more attractive. Celebrities, rich people, etc, don't count.

Like, haven't you people heard that beauty fades, wealth gets spent? Or are you guys too caught up in comparing beauties?

Today, I heard something that made me so mad, few hours later I teared up out of anger from it.

Friend A: C(a guy friend) said that if friend B loses weight, one of the guys will go for her.

First of all, C, you're an idiot for even passing that on. This is a situation where I truly believe in killing the messenger. If this topic ever surfaces when I'm around, I'll get really mad.

Second, whoever that guy is, he's a piece of shit. A jerk. Who doesn't even deserve B, not even her little finger right now. Who the fuck do you think you are? Putting on conditional probability in life. I swear if I ever find out who you are, you'll find yourself getting smacked on the back of your head. With a chair.

And its not even about me.

Over the weekend I got ranty. Or melancholic.

Statement 1: If I lose weight, I might be attractive in society's eyes.
Statement 2: Guys who were ignoring me before might give me attention.
Statement 3: Those guys are only going for the outer part.

Mozart: People are shallow.

Noelle: Did something happened? Is something wrong?

Yes, I lost faith in people.

My Mind is Bonds Fried.

I spent the past two hours completing an assignment for Actuarial Programming. It is basically taking the things we've learned in Actuarial Math and Financial Math, making it into an excel program. Basically, taking a question that might take you around 5-10 mins and making it into something that can take an hour. Or more.

Our lecturer gave us this assignment.

"Set up a bond ammortization table. The following items must be there: Interest, fix/par value,redemption value, coupon rate, coupon payment method"

I delayed doing this since Friday because my Risk of Theory aka Financial Math bible was in a bag somewhere under my bed. Yes, its that hard to take the bag out. Till tonight, I was bored so coughing out barely there dust bunnies, I got the book and decided to start on this assignment.

I sat on the dining table since I still don't have a desk in my room. I was armed with the text book, a pencil, a piece of paper, my calculator and of course, my laptop. Everyone in the house heard my sighs, groans and crazed mutterings.

I thought I was done 90 mins later and even sent it to Mozart, gloating about it until I saw some mistakes. He went to bed, I continued cursing the damn assignment. After some tinkering here and there, I think I got it down.

I saved it, remembering the two times excel died on me, making me restart the whole thing. That was torture. I was clossssseee to throwing something. The assignment is due in 2 days, yes I'm being early for once. A day in history.

I'm currently on page 139 of The Girl Who Played With Fire.

Song of the Moment: High by Lighthouse Family.

Hiding in My Room.

I can see a pattern of me posting short, whimsical posts that are about my current thoughts, doings and so-on. I think it helps with my stress level which ultimately help me avoid a mental breakdown.

I'm also becoming fond of making lists in stating my points. Like, it make things way easier, right?

1. It looks like I'll be commuting to class every day. It might be fun and alright if only my classes didn't end at 6.00pm for 3 days and 8.00pm for one.

2. I'm still sore about not getting a place when gah, there's so many urgh... nepotism, if that is even the correct word, going on. I summed it up to Mozart as:

"I'm too priviliged to be eligible for a room and I'm not priviliged enough to have some inside help"

Aka, I'm too fucking "rich" to be allowed to live on campus because obviously I should rent somewhere off campus but then I'm not rich enough to know someone who can pull some strings for me even though I so can afford a car.

3. In order to adapt myself to studying at home, which is not the best place for me, I asked the parents for a desk and a chair in my room. Yes, I don't have any of those. Just a bed, two bookcases, two cupboards and a dressing table.

It turned from me looking at desks online in order to get an idea of what I want to me proclaiming my whole room needs a makeover because I want to dedicate a wall to a built in desk and bookcases. With a chair on wheels.

4. I'm just so plain lazy at the moment, making Mozart frustated. Currently holed up in my room, hiding from visitors. Yes, I don't like people that much. Especially when they come into my territory aka my house

5. I'm currently on page 101 of The Girl Who Played With Fire.

6. I watched Hercules, the Disney movie, last night for no reason.

Love,

Losing My Chuck Virginity.

Remember what I was planning to do? Well, it failed. I was so close to getting a place but damn it. Mama sent me to the place around 9.30am, giving me enough time to get to my 10.30 class.

But

That class got cancelled. So I took my sweet time, visiting the uni's bookstore and the first thing I saw was the "Clearance Section". Novels going on from 9 to 13 ringgit each. Which is around ... 1/4-1/3 of the normal price for a paperback book.

Malaysians aren't known for being big readers. Well, there's more non-readers than readers. Or perhaps that's the case for English books but I was the only one at that section, looking for a book and everyone else was busy looking at textbooks. God people, you should get your priorities right.

I picked up a copy of Chuck Palahniuk's Rant, breaking my Chuck virginity which I think amused Mozart a bit when I texted him that. I've only read the first chapter but it seems promising. Gruesome too.

The book cheered me up a bit from the depression that set upon me from the rejection. Fast forward 2 hours later I was in a better mood after a nice lunch with friends, contemplating if the 2 o'clock class would be on.

Then

I became a girl again, made shopping as a therapy. I bought a pretty grey scarf and two small clip on bows for my hair. A pink one with a dazzly center and a black one with polka dots. I got the first one in my hair right now, feeling prettier than normal even though no one can see me.

Two more classes and I'm done for the week, ready for my friend's invitation on Saturday which I hope will be serving her mom's tasty smackalicious, lip licking spaggeti.

I'm currently on page 370 of the Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.

Song of the Moment: Love You Like a Love Song by Selena Gomez.

Stealing From Mokesart.

I envy Mozart right now for his energy. More like for the fact that even when he's being "unreliable" he is still posting. Look at me? Barely a handful for the past few months.

I'm still waiting to get a room at one of the uni's hostels. I'm this close of begging laying down the reasons why I should get a place.

1. On the days I have an 8.30 class, I arrive at uni around 6.40 thanks to Dad who has to leave earlier than usual to send me before work. Oh yes, its 3 out of 5 days.

2. On the days my class finishes at 6.00, I have to wait for Dad who has to make way through traffic, bypassing where we live before turning back after picking me up. Today, I waited at the faculty for nearly 2 hours. 4 out of 5 days.

3. I got asthma. Which apparently, is triggered by fatigue. Like, I don't think I'll feel this tired if I'm the one driving back and forth. But when someone is sending me and picking me up. With hours and hours in between, its bound to catch up on me. I need a freaking room before I get an attack.

4. Ignore no.3

5. That figure you see on Dad's salary slip? That's all we're living on. We don't own houses that we rent. We don't have a private business. Like, most people. You know, most of those people who shows their parent's pension slip, well, big chance is the parent owns their own business or is still working somewhere else.

6. Trust me, if we had enough money, I'll be driving a car right now.

7. I don't think I'll study effectively at home.

Right now, I'm reading The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo to refresh my mind before going on to the 2nd and 3rd book. The book helps me through my boredom at uni.

I wanted to blog about how my progress with all of those hard to remember subjects. Then I got this sudden wave of tiredness. I take that as a sign from the gods above.

"Hanis, don't write about those bloody classes."

And to steal something from Mozart, I'll be starting a Song of the Moment section. Mind you, it won't happen all the time.


Song of the Moment: Wish You Were Here- Avril Lavigne.

Confession No.23

All those crazy things you said,

You left them running through my head.

Ranting About Abortions.

Abortions.

What do you think of that?

What I don't get is how some male politicians/stateman/senators/public figures are against it.

Do they have the risk of getting pregnant?

I'm not even going to answer that. Like, unless you're the father of the baby or the person who will be responsbile for it in some way, you should just shut it.

I'm in the middle of Camp "Anti-Abortion" and Camp "Its Her Body". It's like: if you were raped and you got pregnant, I'm all for aborting it. If you were told the baby will be seriously defected and will be going through a hard life of pain and surgeries with a minimal chance of surviving, why put the pain on them? I know there are couples who do that. Take care of the baby. So the kid will know that it is loved. But come on, not everyone can go through the pain of losing a child.

Spare me the freaking "killing a human being" guilt talk. Tell that to the couple who's been childless for years and when she finally got pregnant, the doctor tells her that it's very risky, mortal-risk but they still go on because dear hubby would love the child or the wife wants to at least, leave something for her family.

As far as I know, that wife who could be risking her life is a human being too. Which guilt will be worse, aborting the child or having the mother die due to complications?

Looking at the other side of the coin, if you're going to do an abortion, again, why don't you just go and get your tubes tied? First time might be an accident but more than that, you're plain stupid.

You should look at other factors too such as culture and religion. In some places, having a baby out of wedlock is normal. In others, well, having a baby out of wedlock here would be gossip. People will think differently of you. I don't blame a woman here if she wants to get an abortion. Just don't be stupid and do anything to put yourself in that situation again.

Its your body but don't abuse it.

Guys, its just ... its not you who have to experience having a watermelon being pushed out of a kiwi sized hole.

Ticket to Dreamland.

I wrote this when I was 16.

I wait everyday,

For the sun to set and the stars to dance,

In a merry party of cheese and crackers with the lonely man on the moon,

With crickets leading the orchestra,

Waiting for the sandman to come and visit me,

All snuggled up under my quilt with pictures of cats on it,

Ready to be given a ticket to Dreamland,

Where a boy with the sweetest smile is waiting for me,

With a bouquet of wild roses and a slice of apple pie,

No judgement and shyness occurs,

Not as in reality where we both look away when we pass,

Where I have to return to every morning,

Where no bouquets and no pie awaits me,

No boy with the sweetest smile,

Sad, isn't it?,

Wish I could get a one way no return ticket to Dreamland.

Showing off My Wares.

Yesterday, I went to this darling bookstore and there was this deal of "Buy2 Get 1 Free" that applied to about 80% of the books there. Its a small store but the walls are lined with shelves which are packed.

I was in heaven and asked the owner( I think he is the owner) if he had any J.R Ward books and he was all smiley "Oh yes we do" and brought me to the very back and BAM, I saw a stack of the Black Dagger Brotherhood books.

Fact: I have the first 7 books, having collected them over 2-3 years at the recommendation of a friend when she found out I love vampires that actually die/fatally injured when the sun shines on them.

Fact 2: The first 7 books are titled Dark Lover, Lover Eternal, Lover Awakened, Lover Revealed, Lover Unbound, Lover Enshrined, Lover Avenged. Let me tell you it was a pain whenever I wanted to buy one. Apart from the first one, the rest sounds the same to me. Often I had to read the blurbs at the back because I remember the books based on which Brother it was about. Wrath, Rhage, Zsadist, Butch,Vishous, Phury and Rehvenge(Technically he's not a Brother).

So there I was, staring at the books, my hope of finding the 8th or 9th book not so high since I've been dissapointed everytime I look for them in bookstores.

Then, BAM. I saw a thick book, as thick as Lover Avenged but it was Lover Mine aka John Matthew's story. Right there I had a book orgasm AND a fangirl moment. Right away my fingers were holding on to it as if it would lead me to my one true love. Greediness and eagerness made me ask the guy.

"Do you have the 9th book?"

"Well, the paperbacks coming in few weeks"

*insert another fangirl moment*

And this was before I saw the whole "Buy 2 Get 1 Free" sticker on the book. What followed was me walking around the store about half a dozen times, looking for two more books. I looked around for Marian Keyes, to buy another book from the Walsh sisters series.

Fact 3: Walsh sisters, there's 5 of them. Claire in Watermelon, Maggie in Angels, Rachel in Rachel's Holiday, Anna in Anybody Out There? and Helen in a book that's not out yet. I've read the four books and till yesterday, I thought there were a 5th book.

Fact 4: Anybody Out There? is such a beautiful book, all bittersweet and about moving on that it made me cry, every single time.

Fact 5: I just bought Angels two weeks ago and it was a great read.

I debated on getting another Jodi Picoult but being a fan of the character Jordan McAfee, I didn't know which book to get because I already read the 3 books he's featured in.

I then saw The Girl who Kicked the Hornet's Nest which is the 3rd book in the Millenium Trilogy. I have the first two books about a year ago and might have forgotten to buy the third one. That became my second choice.

Fact 6: The author of the trilogy died, leaving three finished books and a manuscript for his 5th book, not the 4th since he thought the 5th one was more interesting. Its really sad since the man planned to write 10 books in the series. The first book might take you some willpower or time but once you hit few chapters, you'll get addicted.

So, the hunt for the 3rd book began which saw me considering Chuck Palahniuk, James Patterson, another vampire young adult book that's in a series, and oh so much more.

The 3rd book is basically a book I picked for the title which attracted me. The blurb behind it was good too. What book is it?

The Abstinence Teacher by Tom Perotta.

You can guess how happy I was while paying for it. I only paid for the first two books and was practically skipping out of the store, vowing to myself to save up and buy books there again.

Not to forget, the other three books I bought before. Starcrossed by Josephine Angelini, Angels by Marian Keyes and a 2-in-1 book by Sarah Webb( It Had to Be You and Three Times a Lady)

As my Facebook status say now,

Nothing feels better than spending your hard earned money on books.

Love,

Confession No.22

10 months.

On the calendar.

I won't wait. I promise.

After Four Months.

The last time I had such ample time to laze around and let my mind gather dust was back in 2007 during that 7 months between taking that last paper for high school (it was the evil Biology) and starting uni. It was .. bad. Like, my hand became a stranger to the concept of writing. My mind found the thought of sitting in a class and concentrating for 2 hours as torture.

That, kinda affected my studies for that first semester. I was a walking dusty mind. With shaky handwriting.

My four months of lazing my mind is coming to an end as I'm starting my new semester on Monday. I'm already in "Damn it, I'm sooo lazy" way of thinking.

1st thought: Yeay!! Back to school.

2nd thought: Damn it. No more lazing about.

3rd thought: I need to buy school supplies.

4th thought: God, look at all the subjects I have to take.

Seriously, the 4th thought is so scary I can't even remember the name of my subjects. There's 7 in all, just like last semester. But there's plenty of differences.

Last semester, I had Marketing and Economics to help me. I'm a girl in a math related degree who excels in memorising subjects. This time around? Its all math, apart from English(Report Writing ffs) and Arabic 2 (Kill me someone. No, go back to when I was registering for Arabic 1 and make me take Germany or Italian). Well, I think its all math.

Let me consult my self-made schedule.

I just got a headache from looking at the names of my subjects.

Kill me someone. Just freaking kill me with a hatchet or a chainsaw.

*clears throat* Sorry for that mild panic attack readers.

This wonderful 2nd semester of being a degree student, I'll be commiting intellectual/mental suicide taking:

1. Risk Modelling - What is it? I have no idea. Nothing to do about the risk of models falling off catwalks and tripping over a dress with a price tag that can feed my family for a year. I think.

2. Fundamentals of Regression Analysis- This, is something I know I learned 2 years ago. It was the last chapter if I'm not mistaken of Applied Statistics. God. A whole subject on that?

3. Actuarial Programming - I figure I'll be using the computer lab for this. A wild guess. Just cause there's Programming in the name does not mean it would be another Visual Basic Programming Hanis. *falls to knees* Please please please. That subject was torture. And I had to take it twice and still came out with a C+.

4. Stochastic Modelling for Actuarial Application - Sto-freaking-what? That sums it up I think.

5. Actuarial Maths 2 - Finally, something I know of. Its a continuation of Actuarial Maths 1 from last semester. I got a ... B for it. Hey, that's good for someone who stuffed herself with the bloody subject for few days before the paper. I swear my grade was jeopordised because I had no clue what to do when they ask for... this one particular type of .. something. I don't remember.

6. Report Writing - Great, another English subject that will be boring. What has happened to English classes that are fun?

7. Arabic 2 - I can only say "I'm so hungry" in Arabic with confidence. Ana jaw'an jiddan. Forgive me for the spelling errors in the 3 words.

At the moment, the schedule is a bit topsy-turvy since there's two slots that have two classes in it. Like, on Tuesday 2pm, I got Arabic AND Sto-freaking-what. Like, I need a Time-Turner please. I'll need it on Monday and Tuesday.

What will I do with my last few days? Enjoy my sleeping time. Like, duh. And, blog. I'm so lacking behind in my posts.

Love,

Remember Me By.

Mozart's dad once gave him a piece of advice which to me sounded like it should be included in the Book of Wisdom.

"Live life as though you were reading your own eulogy".

This made me think beyond of what I want in life. It kinda made me see things in a new perspective. It made me not look at what to achieve in my lifetime. But to look at what I want to achieve after my lifetime.

You must be confused right now.

Example
As a bookworm, a person who loves to buy books and collect them, I won't be concerned on people commenting on what I read. I'll be more concerned on what my children will their children about me when I'm no longer on this planet.

"My mother was very well-read and loved spending hours in a bookstore."

God, bad example, right?

*imagines Mozart facepalms*

I'll just go straight to the point.

When I die, I'll want people to talk about me in a way. I want my children to tell their grandchildren about me. I want someone to get a soft look in their eyes as they smile, saying

"She was and will always be loved"

Simple as that. Nothing about how different I am. Nothing about my dreams. All I want to be remembered for is that I was loved.

It doesn't sound that difficult to achieve, right?

What do you want to be remembered by/as?

Part Two of My Absence.

I put on 2lbs in 5 days. Which mind you, is good considering my track record of gaining 2lbs for each 1lb I lose in the fasting month.

That was a piece of info I thought you guys might like.

My Eid was ... alright. Its often the kids who enjoy it. Or the people who live so far away from their family. Me? I try to do as minimum work as I can. What, work on a day of celebration?

Well, we take the chance to visit families and neighbours and friends. For some, this is the annual chance to oooh and ahh over Mr A's new house or take a lookie at the marriage candidates pool.

....

I'm just kidding.

Its mostly catching up with each other, remarking on how pretty/big/well you look while filling yourself up with cookies and yummy food. Then you'll go on to the next house and when it comes to the 3rd house, you'll pat your tummy and say

"I just had a lot to eat at So-and-so's house. Have to watch my waist! Har har har"

I visited my mom's youngest uncle and his family. Of course, I ate some while his grandchildren and my little cousins run amok around me. The mothers were too busy remarking on how pretty the outfits were this year.

Another piece of info. We buy new traditional clothes, dress to the nines(for some) and try to pass it off as "This old thing? I only bought it last minute/at a 50% discount/few months ago/at a horrifying sum"

Then, my grandma's house were attacked by her nephews and nieces with their respective families. I was stuck in the kitchen or to be more precise, the sink after changing into casual clothes. Can you imagine the number of plates I have to wash when at first 3 cars came, then another 5?

It was kinda hectic that I didn't get to have my lunch until it was dinner time. Yes, a bit of exaggeration there but still. I sneaked off at 4pm to sleep in a room that had no ceiling fans, or any kind of wind provider. I woke up an hour later all sweaty with an oily face.

Day 2 started with my attempt at wooing my 1 year old cousin. Close but no cigar you know? We( my family and 3 more aunts and their families) went to visit my mom's younger brother.

Yada yada yada.

It was alright. We headed back home on the 3rd day and here I'am, spending my day lazily. Chores and sleeping. HEAVEN.

And that's where I went off to.

Part One of My Absence.

Warning: You might be tempted to google the words in bold.

I was kidnapped by aliens who decided I was the perfect specimen to do research on. When we got there, they found I was lacking so they sent me back after giving me the whole tourist guide shebang.

I mean.

I was abducted by a gang of gypsies that sold me to a harem of belly dancers where they trained me to perfection before the owner said I had such a stubborn look on my face I wouldn't do.

Oh wait.

I had to go to some faraway land filled with hot white guys who fawn over me.

No.

It was Eid Mubarak and as tradition states over here, most of us will balik kampung which means going back to our hometown into our family's bosom. But if someone's like me, born and bred near the city area, we'll go back to a respective parent's hometown. And that is a battle in itself.

Mama: Hanis, whose side did we celebrate the 1st day of Syawal with?

Hanis: I don't remember.

Dad: Mine of course.

Mama: No, no. Mine

Bro: I'm not involved in this at all.

This year, we went to Mama's hometown. A 4 hour long drive, that is without traffic jam where I spent about 3.5 hours sleeping in the back seat since we went back on the 2nd last day of fasting so we couldn't get any snack breaks.

Mama comes from quite the countryside though we don't have that scenery, perfect for tourism place where the wooden house on stilts is placed so near some paddy fields. God, far from it. The nearest we have is some oil palm plantation.

Hanis at age 15: Mama, I think the plantation would be a great place to make a horror movie.

Mama: Hanis. Don't.

What did we do? First of all, we don't have indoor plumbing. Back when I was a little girl, the toilet was a stall about 20 feet away from the house, surrounded by wild animals bushes and maybe some lizards. I remember crying and Mama asking the front door neighbour who had a good old fashioned inside bathroom if I can use it.

Few years later, we had a toilet built in the ... garage, if you can call it that. Its basically a small building attached to the house but where you have to exit through the kitchen door and walk a bit to the garage and let yourself in. Its ... well, its better than that shack in the middle of lizard land.

Mama comes from a big family, she's the 3rd of 8. This time around, we had at most, 7 out of 8 in the house at the same time. That's 14 adults including my Grandma and 22 grandchildren. And I was the 2nd oldest with the eldest being married and having her own little boy.

There's plenty of little hellspawns ones with the cute toddlers and babies all disliking/torturing me.

So, on the day before, we cooked up a storm with ketupat, nasi impit, beef rendang, chicken curry and noodle soup (Mi Sup) filled with bits and pieces of beef, fat and tripe. Imagine, big big woks and pots filled with food.

Us Malaysians are all about food. Trust me.

Oh dear, this post is getting too long. Next post will be about how my first two days of Syawal went and of course my trip back to civilisation home.

Peace Out.