THE bum’s hEre

I’m probably the luckiest girl alive. 3 more jobs doing what I love most. 2 in Matang, Perak (I’ve never heard of that place) next month..(which is tomorrow lar, come to think of it) and one more Endau Rompin in Aug. The first is called the Training of Trainers with some uni and others all belum diketahui lagi. I hope I don’t get seriously bratty participants. Thank God they’re kids. I’d hv a reason to whack them if anything were to happen.

Part- time camp coodinator/ facilitator, part- time student. Life couldn’t be any better. I must say, this has been a pretty good year for me (so far). Hope I didn’t speak to soon. CHOI. Touch wood touch wood. (!!!)

Everyone’s grown up and rushing around lar. It’s scary. Atikah’s in Perlis already, Arlina kat Btg. Berjuntai, Waipz in Form 6, San in Taylors, Shermaine’s in Methodist College….everyone’s so busy with studies. I’m studying too lar…but it’s not so…pressurizing. I mean, once a week. Stressed? (Ha) And I got my results back. It’s pretty good. I’m happy. The worst thing is I might be getting the diploma next year April and I’d have to go back to S’pore to cont my studies for two years. Then maybe Adelaide. Then no more laid- back carefree life as a a part-timer anything! *gasp* dang.

Life’s been too easy and mundane nowadays. Morning, therapy. Pick Iman up. And if the mood arises, drive to Jusco (or walk) just to maybe purchase (another) pair of footwear. Then read, or help Papa. Then either tuition or gym. Then mamak if I feel hungry. (I know, what’s the point after working out right. But boo u, it’s my life) U know I teach this kid, Alif. Freaking cute guy, adorable mcm nak mampus. He looks like Alam from ‘So You Think You Can Dance’ (minus the arms). And safe to say, he’s my best student yet. HE CAN DO SUBTRACTIONS WITHOUT MAKING A MISTAKE! It took me 5 months to teach him to do that. (I’m not a very good nor patient teacher) I could’ve kissed him when he finally got it. Do you know how effing MAFAN and HARD it is to teach kids?! Sometimes you feel like slapping them but when they give u that ‘kesian’ look it’s like…"Oh ok, macam ni lar…." And you don’t mind teaching them all over again. Even though it’s probably the most daunting task you’ve ever performed.

Sigh. I love lil kiddos. They make life worth living. And they see things in such a funny way. Haha.

I really should savour the moments I have this year. Plenty of time with the two things I love; kids and nature. I have this creepy feeling that life’s not gonna be so easy for me in years to come. Maybe God’s giving me enough time to re-cap bout my life kot. Hmph. Maybe.

Anyway I shall be off. It’s Saturday and I hv class today. Ta!

Therapy is:

a) spotting gorgeous good shoes

b) getting shoegasm

c) buying gorgeous good shoes

d) caressing gorgeous good shoes

e) wearing gorgeous good shoes

f) feeling gorgeous in gorgeous good shoes

g) doing sudoku puzzles in the ‘Star’ paper in Starbucks

Now honestly, nothing could make a girl happier than buying a good pair of ‘gorgeous good shoes’. *Sloppy smile*. My possible fastest shoe shopping spree would prob me a minute and a half. Well the store was closing, I gotta rush. Spot it, Grab your Size, Walk around in it, BUY IT.

*Shoes oh bloody shoes….*

Anyway, this weeks topic. Passion. Was arguing with Irwin bout this yesterday when he said living in luxury is his passion. Well it’s more like a dream to me. Passion’s a heavy word u know, it’s equivalent amount of ‘heaviness’ is like the word ‘love’. Dangerous. Passion means sacrificing, working ur ha-ass off to get that goal u want to achieve. How many people would really wanna do that? Passion. And i’m not talking bout sexual intercourse here, ha bloody ha. That’s a literal passion, we’re not going into that.

I think being filthy rich is like, u know, a ‘norm’,(it’s like if you don’t expect to be rich in the future then something’s wrong with you) something to look forward to, something to hope. A few would seriously try to really ‘get there’ u know, though most would prob try and when finding out that ‘working hard’ would probably get u nowhere, eventually give up. But still hang on a wriggly string cuz heck, a teeny part of u says  that ‘miracles do happen’. *SNORTS* And as so i’ve found out, men, generally, want to live a wealthy life. Every single dude i’ve met want this. I hv this ex who says he wants to hv a million in his bank before getting married. *pfft* his wife-to-be has to wait. And this other ex who’s pretty money-minded. (ok larh, very) I hv the right mind to date somebody who’d just be comfortable living a…comfortable life I tell u. Everyone’s too busy chasing success and wealth. It’s good lar, I didn’t say it’s bad…at least u’ve got something to work on to but can’t anybody be contented with the simplicities of life? Oh, i’ve been told i’m a classic girl with an old-fashioned state of mind. Don’t mind me. I still get shocked when I see muslims drinking fervently in cafe’s etc..etc. It makes me sick.

Maybe I’m borned in the wrong era kot.

I know everyone wants to lead a comfortable life and get the best for their families. And usually, it comes with a price. But then there at that point we see how one views ‘comfort’. What’s your definition of comfort? Happily living in a 3-and a half floor mansion? Is that comfort? Luxury? If living in luxury were to bring a hell lotta problems with me, AND taking time away from my family (working my tut tut off everyday to achieve that so-called ‘comfort’ zone) then why BOTHER. Hell, what’s important is that you’re stable. Enough finances for kids, home expenses, cars, those once in a while holidays n blah blah blah. Cukuplah kan. Susah me-ma-dai. (Wah, chun wei. Big B.M words. I feel intellectual already)

It’s not that I’m dampening ur spirits of being ridiculously rich and marrying the sons of dato’s or something but it is the people that crave for the materialism of life, are the people that ‘forgets’. Forget God, forget the initial purpose of being ‘rich’. (to live a comfortable life with your family, but unfortunately, u don’t hv TIME for your dear ones) Forget to lay low, forget being compassionate. Forget being sensitive, forget mediocre. Forget being simple, forget the joy of laughter (without the help of alcohol). Forget wearing kain batik (haha), forget to buy ur telekung/ sejadah. Forget to eat breakfast, forget health. Forget immediate families, forget parents. Forget to pray. Forget time. Forget ‘Dooms’s Day’. Forget clarity. Forget to have time for yourself.

Because you’re too busy trying looking up-to-date. Too busy wanting to look pretty. Too busy wanting that dress. Too busy buying Cartier diamonds. Maintaining that image. To be polished, buffed, waxed, stripped, pushed, pulled, slimmed, tousled, manicured, unblemished, and immacutely perfect. And to look good you need money ainnit?

So you know..unless you don’t forget, then go ahead. Be successful. Enjoy your life if it takes Tiffany’s to permanently be attached to your earlobes or something.

Being passionate about..anything for that matter, is good.. But if it takes over u then u ‘forget’. What’s the point of living if you ‘forget’?

Was eating this huge weird alphabet pasta and yesterdays kuah ikan laksa (t’ganu style) with milk and lil’ tomatoes and black pepper. Ew, but sedap. Then there was a plastic container in front of me with curry puffs n I thought of the last time I’ve had a really good one. You know, the ones that make you go , ‘Eh, sedap giler ah’ and your mouth’ll be too full to say anything else cuz you’ll practically stuff the whole thing up in your face. HAha. So I took the risk and hoped that this particular curry puff that’s going to be chomped n shredded in my laksa-ed cum pasta mouth would be that particular satisfying one.

But no. Boleh tahan lar. At least the filling’s potatoes and not keledek. I don’t like that, it tastes too sweet and the textures rough so it’s like, eew. But, ok lar, nak buat apa. Rezeki kan.

After finally settling my curiosities of battling with foods, my mind flew back to yesterdays incident. Kelakar wei. HAHAHAHAH. I want to laugh thinking bout it You. Will. Never. Guess. What. Happened.

*the most longest, daunting silence u’ve ever heard. imagined*

I MANNED A FREAKIN TRAIN!!!!!!!

Haha! The KTM train, I’m serious! Dead serious *_* THE MOST AWESOMEST THING I’VE EVER DONE. Well, sorta. After a long time. I mean, who the HECk drove a train before? Eh? Eh? (besides the ppl who actually work there lar. Tsk)

San couldn’t believe it. She was silent throughout the whole conversation as I was laughing at the incredulity of it. She thought I wasn’t serious. But yeah, it was just so funny. I find it funny. LOL.

Well it started like this ok. I was on my way back from gym, train’s damn lambat but I’m used to it. I got it the first cabin, or gerabak, whatever u call it and so happened it was my lucky day. Empty. I paced myself to jump and swing around every pole and leave my essence everyway. HAHAH. Well yeah, it’s empty and too tempting lar. You want to feel like the whole train’s yours right.

ANYWAY, just as I was about to swing around the first pole on my right hand side, the door to my extreme right opened. Oh uh. The conductor caught me mid-posed, with my butt slightly above the seat and right hand stretched out, this whole plethora of shiny poles in front of me. Ceh, malu only. But nvm, his mind was obviously somewhere else. He walked towards me and just smiled and check the door on my left. Door no. 4, I still remember. (Of course)

Dang, it’s hard to type with long nails. But nvm. Anyway he kept walking back and forth checking the door and I was getting irritated that heck, the train’s ALREADY slow, it came late, and now he’s taking my time like as if he’s King Kong or something (although he HAS a rather rotund stomach *shrugs*). Then he asked me whether I could ‘tolong’ him and of course me being me, I’m halfway to deaf-zone, repeated, ‘turun?’ and he rolled his eyes and say ‘tolong’, ‘Boleh awak tolong saya tak?’

And I jumped off the seat (cuz of the high-packed energy from dancing in gym) and followed him to the drivers tiny room. It has so many cute lil knobs and there were flashes of tiny red and green thingies, it looks like Christmas. He told me what to do and I actually realized that he’s asking me to control the whole damn train! HAHAHAHAH. Those innocent lives at the back hv got NO IDEA that they just might’ve, might have I tell you, got themselves in the wrong hands tonight. You lucky things, you. *beams*

So he told me what to do, and blah blah blah…he went back to check the poor door no.4 and I was alone in the room. Awesome. The train tracks were bright in front of me and the TRAIN WAS CHUGGING!!!(if, it could chug) UNDER MY HANDS. Haha.

But, you know, he came back. I was slightly elated cuz dang, I was having such a good time man, thinking of the names of my future railway company (Hannah’s railways-deathways, Chug-Chug, TOOT-TOOT) He said thanks, and I was like jumping around like a rabbit that caught it’s cute bob of a tail on fire and said *grinning*, ‘Bestnyer’.

And he said, ‘Duduk sini lar’ as he waved his hand to a chair beside me. I gv a small ‘WOOT!’ and sat down on the chair next too him which was lopsided but takpe, I didn’t care to complain. We talked, he looks like this mid-age man, with glasses and moustache, and had a slight paunch (I told you). I wasn’t worried that he’d rape me or something, cuz he seems decent, and looks decent, and smart ppl don’t rape other ppl. He was taking his masters in Logistics and is interested in psychology too. See San, I can’t be making this up. I’m not creative enough. (Then only she believed me) Tsk.

So finally, when the train reached Klang station I told him thanx and all that crap. But the door behind me just wouldn’t budge an inch. Dang. And started lar, I panicked and all that, started blabbering like a dugong. He said it’s ok and opened the side door. HAH. I felt stupid but was ecsatic. I WENT OUT THROUGH THE CONDUCTORS DOOR! haha. Omg, wait. Ppl might think of other yucky things. EEEEWWWW. Ok, luckily no one saw me going out.

But yeah, I was happy. Twas, a cool night. Gym was also good, super-fun that night. We had regathon, which is like a combination of Latin, Bhangra, Hip Hop and Dangdut. I strutted my stuff. Hell I RAWK! Muahaha!

So this month itself I manned a boat, and a train. And I still suck on the road. I’m waiting for my chance in the flying sector now. *Grins, pops curry puff in mouth*

"His head was on her lap. They were quiet for what seemed like a long time but everything that needed to be said had been unverbally mentioned in this silenced moment. Nothing needed to be uttered. There was a mutual understanding. A bond. She touched his hair. She carressed his warm forehead. And her eyes bored his face. Her fingers followed her gaze, she lined his distinctive features. She observed every freckle, the corners of his eyes, the prominence of his nose, the shape of his articulated lips. Perfect.

His head was facing the window and thought nothing could go wrong at this very moment. What happened in the past- then- is over and forgotten with. Nothing need be touched or mentioned. He looked up at her face and smiled a small smile. The curve of his lips gave a sharp pang that sliced through her heart. The inner pain was overwhelming, it was a long time since she saw that smile. She almost teared but she stopped herself-just.

For him, she would do anything.

He needed her and he knows she’s giving all she’s got for him. To be strong for him. A promise is a promise. She broke it once -and never again would she hurt………would she hurt him.

His hair was soft in her hands as her turned back to face the horizons. It was beautiful-a picturesque view. Just like her. His heart, his soul would live for her.

She once thought that she could control her mind, her decisions, her movements, her plans, her future. But she was a careless soul -she forgot she had a heart. A gentle reminder in a form of pain and loneliness tapped her back and when she turned around, she knew there was no turning back. One would be inhumane if one loses ones care for another. For that’s the only thing that separates us from animals- compassion. Being in denial didn’t do her, or anyone any justice. Her heart was adamant with it’s choices, it fought with her mind mercilessly when it comes to making decisions. "Be strong, be strong" was what everyone she confronted to told her to be. It became a mantra, a daily chant she repeated every single night before she shuts her eyes, for only then would the past allow itself to float and linger in her restless mind. And she tried to be strong. She did. What she never realised was that denial was shadowing her all the way- all these while. How long would she be able to go against herself? How long would she be fighting a losing battle? How long was she going to hurt, hurt, hurt others who cared?

He carefully took her right hand in his without moving his face and placed it on his heart. He covered-hugged it with both hands as if protecting a precious, priceless gem. She leaned forward and rest her head on his stomach. Such familiarity.

A tear formed in her eyes as her mind took a reciprocal visit back to the past and it lingered every so lightly on her eyelash. She blinked to stop the tears from overflowing, too much- she didn’t want to be weak, be vulnerable in front of him, anymore-but one escaped. It fell on his shirt and it seeped right through. He felt it on his skin.

His heart went all out for her. He knew she loved him.

He started getting up slowly to avoid hurting her and so did she. He took one look at her and parted every strand of her hair back into place with a soft, knowing smile. She looked at him and wondered, whether this is going to work out this time. Them.

He looked at her, touched the sides of her wet eyes.

She hugged him with a fierce surge in her body. He felt her sincerity. He felt her pain she went through. He felt her strong determination. He’d take care of her real proper. He would, this time. And he teared.

Nothing need be said.

Nothing need be said at all."