"done"

“work has to be seen to be “done”.”

- A

how wise he was to say that.

in life, high school never ends. in fact, it gets worse as you grow older.

politics is at its peak. every where you go.

and for some, malice is the name of the game.

people like me become the victim.

but i’ve obviously got better things to think about.

Shy to comment? Well, never mind! Your reactions mean the world to me! Make me smile today :)

manisnya senyumanmu

Going out with Mamita has either become a rare opportunity or fortunate coincidence. I either meet her at a Mamak stall somewhere and we will end up eating breakfast together. Or we finally get to slot each other into our schedules (peace Mamita, I know, I know I’ve been busy too). Either way, I still talk to her alot about alot of things.

Most of the time, we talk about how crazy our lives can get and why we are always stuck in this twisted pretzel-like life. But those are the more serious times.

On the less serious occasions, she’ll ask me on how I plan to smile during my wedding. Imagine that? My small, serious lawyer friend is inquiring on how I am planning to smile during my wedding. Haih...

But of course, as always, she knows me well enough to ask me questions like that. It’s because my face was made for smiling. When I’m not smiling, my mouth turns into a downturned smile, or in a more literal word, a frown.

Most of the time, I’m smiling like I’m in a Colgate ad or something and it’s not something which can be helped. My face was made for smiling and my teeth shows when I do.

If it were up to me, I’d LOVE to smile like this during my wedding. But I know that this will invite dagger looks from my mom who would whisper to Jaja to tell me to “smile, not laugh!” So fine, maybe in retrospect, it doesn’t look all too dainty in pictures. But I still do think that there’s nothing wrong with me smiling like that because I am supposed to be happy, aren’t I?

Anyways, here are proof of how bad an unsmiling me would look like. I look fat and I don’t look happy. And I know that I’m supposed to look happy even when I’m crying. And the worst part is that even after all those sleepless nights watching America’s, Canada’s, Britain’s Top Models; I still can’t master the art of smiling with my eyes. *Sigh* (perasan model sekejap)

x

I went through my engagement photos from my OP last night. I know, I know, it has been like 3 months or something, but I’m only looking at them now? I did look at them already, I just didn’t feel like sharing back then.

Speaking of smiles, I have honestly, honestly never seen him look at me like this before. Got to say that I love this shot because it captured a moment which I would love to look back at for many, many times. Especially when the going gets tough.

Well, then enough from me so, have a good night everyone!

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HAI.

Actually, I have been online and have logged on to Blogger every single day since before my last post. I have been reading your, your and your blogs. Best! I have been searching for some lost inspiration because I have been all over the place, metaphorically speaking.

My mind is scattered and I am picking up the pieces from where I might have dropped them.

All has been well (I think and hope).

Actually, more than anything, I have been annoyed with blogger for making my life miserable by blocking my "uploading photos activities" out.

I forgot that apart from Mozilla, I can use IE. Now, I am on IE and so, I will have no more trouble giving you more photos.

I have loads to do at the moment. But I will be back. I miss this space.

Til' then, don't let the Monday Blues bite!

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roof.

orange.

Where are you staying?

I mean, if you’re married, where are you staying and if you’re going to get married, where will you be staying after?

Have you decided or considered or discussed this matter with your loved ones i.e. Mama, Babah and Mister?

What do they have to say about it?

From the moment I told my parents that Mister was serious about getting married, which was much longer than before merisik even, my parents (Mom, especially) started asking me about where I planned on staying after the wedding. Understandably so, at that point in time, Mister was in Penang. It was a cause of concern, for obvious reasons.

But now that he’s here, the most obvious answer would be – Putrajaya, where else? It’s the obvious answer because we’re both working here and the last thing I want to do after I get married is to still battle the traffic on a daily basis.

The moment Mister moved back here, he already knew in his mind that he needed to find a (relatively comfortable) place for us to stay at after we are married. So, the easiest way is by applying for Kuarters.

At the mention of  Kuarters, some people would already have an image of a decrepit building with mold growing all over the place. I know this because this is my initial thought of what a Kuarters looks like. Cut me some slack please. I grew up in Seremban and the Kuarters there did look like those pondok-pondok across Hospital Seremban which housed pesakit jiwa. Tak tipu.

I’m sure it’s much, much better now, just like the rest of the Kuarters here in Putrajaya.

So, imagine how happy I was when Mister told me that his application was successful (of course, after much pushing and prodding from him to those responsible for his application and a little word of “warning” about the amount of time he has been waiting).

The day after he told me about it, we went to visit the place. My first reaction?

“Awak, kenapa rumah kita colour oren?”

Alamak, tak bersyukur pulak. But we made a decision to go up anyways and see the place so that we can start planning on buying furniture, etc.

My verdict?

I had a huge Cheshire cat smile on my face after that. It’s nothing fancy or grand or anything at all. In fact, it’s empty (for now), still largely smells of cement and recently completed works, the lights don’t work (yet). But for now, it’s ours.

x

In the car that evening, he told me, “I can’t believe we will be living together.”

I merely smiled and thought, “I can’t believe it myself”

♥

So much of it.

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honestly

... when someone says, "Eh, awak dah kuruslah!"

What do you answer?

I've tried, "Okay, thank you. Jangan risau, I makan banyak."

But when people keep on saying it to me, does it mean I have to/ am expected to tell them they look thin/slimmer too? The Malay culture being what it is, I'm not surprised if that's what I'm expected to say.

I really don't know how to respond anymore.

And if the person did not gain/lose a substantial amount of weight, I really can't tell if they're thinner or fatter.

In fact, I've made that mistake many times. I've told a person many times that they look slimmer when they actually gained ALOT of weight for the time period we did not meet. Don't know how I could've made such a grave mistake!

Ish, honestly. I have really run out of ideas on what I SHOULD answer when someone tells me I have grown thinner.

Because guess what? Actually, I've always been like this and I know that I have NOT grown any thinner.

Maybe you want me to tell you you're thin, kot?

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hundred

100 hari saja lagi.

Tak sangka kan? Pejam celik, pejam celik, 100 hari. Wow.

So, disebabkan hari ini tinggal 100 hari, mood lain macam punya baik.

Mister: Lunch?
Me: Okay, jum.
Mister: Warisan?
Me: Okay, jum.

Sampai kat Warisan, terus serbu laici kang. Lepas tu, serbu bihun sup.

Uuuu. Berapa bulan tak makan bihun sup.

The whole time kami di sana, entah berapa kali Mister tanya, “What’s up in the office?”

Me: Nothing. *slurp sup*

Tapi Mister agak kental. Lepas beberapa minit tanya lagi, “Apa gossip harini?”

Me: Hmmm… nothing. Buat kerja je *slurp sup lagi sambil lap hingus*

Then dia cerita pasal office dia.

Me: Mintak air sikit. *slurp laici kang pulak*
Me: Can I get another one?
Mister: No.
Me: But why?
Mister: Too much sugar.
Me: But I want.
Mister: No. I said no, Hanisa. You never listen to me.
Me: Okay fine. *lap hingus lagi. pedas sangat*

Mister said I was allowed to get something from the kedai-kedai lain dekat situ, just not laici kang.

Guess what I chose?






AIR LAICI DENGAN JELLY.

Laici kang tak dapat. Laici pun jadi lah.

Heeeee.

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Bite size.

Kids, that is.

Don’t you just think that they are the “bite size” of human beings? So gigitable. With those balloon cheeks, lovely smell and droopy eyes, your heart is sure to melt.

Thing is, I’m not much of a kid person. I don’t hate them, no. In fact, I love to stare at or ask to hold other people’s babies though I’m a bit terrified of “breaking” a newborn. However, for as long as I can remember, I’ve always dreamt of being a mum. *shy*

But kids, as in babies, just seem to not “want” me when I go gugu gaga over them. Example: Lea, my friends’ daughter. I fawn over her for being the princess that she is, yet, when I hold my hands out to her, offering to take her off her mummy’s or daddy’s arms, she turns away.

On the rare occasions where I actually get her to come to me, she realizes much too soon that I’m not her mummy and starts crying.

I actually have my own theory about why all this is happening. I believe that I am not anatomically comfortable enough for kids. I’m a lot of skin and bones and at some spots, I’m just a little challenged. I’ve come to accept that fact with grace.

But that still doesn’t stop me from being upset when babies turn me down. *Feels so dejected!*

This little boy’s a bit of an exception though. He wanted me and didn’t mind when I fawned over him. So baik. But then again, he didn’t mind strangers at all as long as he was carried and cuddled. So, I know I’m not that special, though this is quite a good start. Better than nothing, right?

But, on the brightside of things, most people tell me that I chose the right guy.

They all want him. Even Lea asked him to pick her up. Agak jealous di situ, but I’m taking baby steps with this whole baby thing.

Hopefully, when my own time comes, baby won’t love her dad too much. Penat mak kau meneran tahu tak? Macam pernah je pulak ;p

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Bottom of the food chain

My work stress threshold is high – very high. I nag about work and whine about how much there is to do in a day, but my face and actions don’t at all reflect my stress. Far from it, when I’m really, really stressed up, you’ll see me smiling. And that’s when I’m working the hardest.

I’d be smiling so much, so much so that each time I tell you I am stressed, you’d think I’m a liar. And I don’t blame you.

But yesterday. Despite the wide smile plastered to my face, I really, really was stressed up. Perhaps that's why my smile was so freakishly wide?

It didn’t begin a good day, and it didn’t end off any better. I remained smiling only because there was a good reason to it. Which I shall not disclose. Yet.

Anyways, compared to the whole clan whose been working for the past ½ century or so, I’m relatively new in the working scene. So, that still makes me one of those who are at the bottom of the food chain. Not surprising, being at the bottom of the food chain ensures you a spot where you’re expected to do the following:

• do preliminary research of an issue you’ve never even heard of
• don’t find anything substantially or remotely relevant to your research
• get tangled up in court judgments which are long winded and have no absolute conclusion
• write preliminary opinions
• get half of your opinion either slashed or covered in red ink pen even before you could explain yourself
• bear with the ten thousand amendments people make because they just can’t make up their mind
• wait for decisions and get clients calling you asking about "Status". 
• being responsible for things which you have absolutely no control of
• deal with people who can use MSWord, but seem incompetent where MSWord 2007 is concerned, hence leaving you with the massive editing work
• become the runner when the office boy goes back –he gets an OT when he stays back, you stay back because that is what’s expected out of you
• get your holidays slashed while everyone else gets to go on leave
• ask for instructions and wait for further instructions, only to realise much too late that the other person forgot his/her instruction, leaving you waiting like a fool in the office
• go home to tell mommy and mommy tells you to “be patient(???)”
• get paid the least but works most like THE dog
• oh, and add “be the most patient person in the world who can never be stressed up about work ever” to the list

… and you really don’t want me to list it all, trust me.

Yesterday, in short, was the day I decided that I need to take leave in the nearest time. It’s been too long (wayy too long) and I’m beginning to get agitated with everything and everyone I look at.

Funny feeling all this because I actually like my job.

And oh, I think I deserve a huge bonus too. But that’s of course, not my call.

AND, I think I deserve to be stressed out. Enough of patience.

Now that this is off my chest, I feel so much better.

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to balance.

This is the last of the memories of that MNC that I have. Mister used to work in Penang, for those who don’t know. He was there for about 2 years. Those 2 years were probably some of the worst and best times of our relationship.

When he was there, he came to visit me at the frequency of 4 – 6 weeks once. He hitched a ride with anyone he could and took the flight and bus when he just had no other way. He drove during public holidays. It was tough and most people wouldn’t have been able to do it. But we did. We always emerge from a tragedy stronger, so it seems.

When he was working there, his pay was very little. But his perks, I tell you. Even I got a little big bite of the pie. Tempias, orang kata. He received regular bonuses and vouchers, gifts and monetary incentives whenever his working group did a good job.

And trust me, they did a good job pretty often. Which explains why I was so spoilt back then. I mean, as vain as Mister can be, he doesn’t use Body Shop products and won’t drink Coffee Bean alone and well, of course, he gives his Body Shop vouchers to me and only uses his Coffee Bean vouchers when we’re out on a date. Most of the hantaran money was collected when he was working there. My birthday treats were aplenty and well, in other words, back then, we were pretty much mewah.

I think Mister loved his previous job and colleagues, but he hated his boss. I think he enjoyed entertaining clients, but if it went to the extent of compromising his integrity as a person and his faith as a Muslim, he knew at some point, it had to stop. I think he enjoyed Penang food and Penang in general, but his family wasn’t there.

So, given his surrounding circumstances and one incident (involving his job), which became the straw that broke the camel’s back, he left his job. He landed himself a new job, came back to central Malaysia, proposed to marry me, I said yes, and here we are today.

Nothing’s quite the same as it used to be. No doubt, the job now pays more, but that’s about all it pays. Increments are a thing people make jokes of. I mean, our annual increment will disappear into thin air as soon as we fill in our car fuel. Yeah, that’s how little. I know this because I earn more or less the same. No more perks, no more regular bonuses, no more spoilt little girl.

But here's the catch -HE'S HERE.

We can spend a weekend together without thinking about what time the bus or flight is leaving and without having to take into consideration all that travelling time. We can pretty much decide to have lunch dates as and when we please, because given our previous circumstances, apa la sangat 15 kilometers away from each other’s offices, right? And the list of things we can freely do now continues.

He’s happier because he can decide to go back to his hometown whenever he feels like it and all his friends are here. In general, we are all happier. Even if the job isn’t as satisfying as his previous one (I know this because I know him well enough to just sense it) and even if with such meager pay, we’re both just barely making it from month to month, with all the wedding preparations and all, I think we’re all generally happier.

Point is, we can’t have it all. At least not yet. I think we just have to accept that for the moment because rezeki masing-masing, lain-lain.

We win some and learn some.

And sometimes, I think he still likes to spoil me because I'm a little spoilt like that ;)

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pertama.

If you are the eldest child or more specifically, the eldest girl, I think you would be able to relate to this story. Not all of you would maybe, but perhaps 70% could, I think?

This is a story about the first girl.

Girls – Most people I know wished that their first child is a girl. I know that’s a bit demanding, seeing that we should all be grateful with whichever child Allah grants us, but yes, the fact remains that a lot of people will go on and on trying for a girl.

My mom once told an aunty of mine, “Try and get a girl. When you grow older, you will see why”. I grew older and now, I also understand why, although I don’t have any children of my own yet. Girls will always be girls, that is why. A guy can never be a girl, no matter how thoughtful he can get. It’s just not the same.

But, since girls are loved and adored that much, there are also some expectations from the people around her of the kind of person she needs to (read: MUST) be. So, being the first girl, the expectations are at least threefold, if not more.

First Girls never get away with...

• Talking back
• Being too adverse about something
• Being judgemental
• Making decisions without prior consultation
• Not asking for permission
• Not helping out with house chores
• Going out too often with friends, while leaving other siblings at home
• Not joining family gatherings

... to name a few.

Sometimes, they can’t even get away with not carrying on with a habit.

Example:
I love to wear my dad’s slippers when I'm stepping out of the house for a while. His feet, for obvious reasons, are many sizes more than mine. Once, he asked me to close the gate while he waited on. I wore my own slippers. The next thing I know, he was asking me;

“Akak dah tak suka pakai selipar Ba dah ye?”

I just gave him a little smile and told him, “Dah rasmi dah semalam” (it was a new pair of slippers)

So, you see, being a girl is tremendous. I love being a girl. Being a girl is always special. Being the first makes us 10 times more special. But, I’ve got to say, it’s never easy ;)

Don’t think it was ever meant to be ;)

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I'm no Susan Boyle

Contrary to popular believe, I love singing. But it doesn’t always come across as such because I loathe karaoke. I don’t get why people huddle into a small room together with very limited light and be happy about singing off-tune, off-beat and the likes. So, unless that person is really good with the mic, I can hardly fathom why people are so enchanted with the silent orchestra. 

Oh, yes… I can see people shooting me dagger looks right now. Ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch! This is just my personal opinion, of course! You’re entitled to think otherwise.Hehe.

Thing is, not matter how much I try to warm up to the idea, I can never really wrap the idea around my head. Especially when it comes to my knowledge that the people with who I will be “karaoke-ing” with are complete strangers. I mean, you can ask the Kesayangans how many times they have heard me sing at a karaoke and they will tell you, “Once”.So, at the mention of "strangers", I'd straightaway give a No!

Well, at least I tried.

Actually, more than anything, I think I am jealous of people who can so confidently sing in front of crowds. Even when they KNOW that they don’t even sound remotely close to ________________ (name of worst sounding artist) (well, I don’t want to name names here, so you fill in the blank yourselves, okay!)

How do you guys/girls stand the sound of the echo of your own tak sedap voices?

I can never be brave enough to do it.

But give me a steering wheel and some of my favourite tunes to go, you’ll see me singing like there’s no tomorrow. Seriously. You’ll see for yourself if you ever bump into me on the road ;)

Kalau ever nampak, jangan tegur! That’s my version of karaoke, you know ;)

that one time ;)

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