Sup3rnality

I don't know what got into me last night. Hormones, maybe?

I came down with a slight case of paranoia. Heck, 'slight' is the understatement of the century. Make that paranoia of gigantic proportions. It was a case of fear, and worry and a sense of doubt eating into my faith.

Damn you, doubt.

I assure you, I'm fine and all is good in my world. It just needed to be put back right at the axis. And now I'm spinning fine again.

Life is full of uncertainties, yes. One is right to question things to get a deeper understanding. And in my questioning and fleeting doubt, I only love deeper.

My heart has been in all the wrong places. It's pulling me in so many directions that I cannot tell which way is right. Which way is right?

I'm fragile. My heart is fragile. I can feel it threatening to break at every jostle, every rough edge. I can feel it waiting for the fall, waiting for the other shoe to drop, dreading the end of a fairytale.

I've been fragile. The road seems too long, and I feel to fragile, too vulnerable. I'm afraid of the in-betweens.

It's still hard for me to believe it all. Too used to heartache to know the difference. Surrounded by one too many hardened, jaded souls to completely let myself go. People have me thinking, what-if what-if.

I'm too fragile. I'm standing on the edge of a knife, and I think I might just be split in two.

I'm wrong to feel this way. I know I am. The doubts are eating into me. My faith is shaken.

But these doubts are baseless, other than underlying fear.

I'm just fragile. I don't ever remember being this way. So used to keeping my heart so well-guarded from any more pain. I've been there once, and I live in fear of that happening again.

I am afraid. I am afraid of fragility. I am afraid of things I cannot control. I am afraid of losing. I am afraid of being alone.

One side of me has utmost faith, can see the future playing out. The other side of me is in constant fear, dread, waiting for my time to run out, just like before.

I don't know where my mind is. I don't know where my heart is.

Can you please come put it back where it's supposed to be?

I don't like being upset, it turns me reckless, impairs my judgment and makes me feel like crap. When I'm upset, I drive like a maniac.

I don't like being upset because my biggest fear is losing the people I love. Should anything happen to me, or others, I don't want my last memory of them to be that of anger or of a misunderstanding with them.

I don't like being upset because it can drastically transform my day from good to bad.

I don't like feeling upset because I won't be able to sleep peacefully, won't be able to do anything right until I see the person, and and make peace with them.

And right now, all I can think about is to make amends.

In Memory of Amirah Anuar 
4th May 1985 - 26th October 2010

It's heart-warming, and yet heartbreaking, to see old friends from SMK Seksyen 9, Shah Alam unite as one to pay their last respects in memory of an old friend and schoolmate, Amirah Anuar. After years of being apart, separated by distance, time, jobs and various obligations, we are all different people now; but in a time of sorrow, it reverberates through all of us the gravity of this heavy weight that bears down on all of us.

We have lost one among our ranks.

We all shared one memory of being in the same school, walking down the same corridors, standing in that same hall, singing the same songs. We were different people, we were from different groups and cliques, maybe liked or hated each other. Nevertheless, we had camaraderie, we had a friend in common.

At one point or another, we might have bumped into Amirah, talked to her, shared a smile as we passed one another, been classmates... At one point or another, even if it was just for a moment, Amirah had been a part of our lives.

For me, I was her classmate in Form 2. 2 Yakin 1999 to be precise. My memory of her was that she taught me the love for make-up. We discovered the many different types of lip gloss and balms, eye shadow and the power of facial blotters. We shared posters from magazines and exchanged lyrics. She borrowed a few of my tapes to listen at home. We shared magazines to read when we were bored. We sang the same songs and joked about in class. We gossiped and laughed like any 14-year-old would. She was also a comforting friend when the challenges of being 14 got too hard to bear. In a few words, Amirah was my friend.

I may not have had the chance to get to know her past the year of being classmates. I may not have kept in touch beyond school, even. But Amirah, you will be remembered, and you will be missed.

May you be placed among those with faith. Al-Fatihah.
Condolences to your family.

Things can get a little crazy here in Linzy Land. Cash is always an issue thanks to finicky housemates, hefty TNB bills that only makes an appearance after two months with warning letter about paying bills on time (Hello? How about giving me the bill on time?), car problems that need repairing, much needed car petrol, and stupid Maxis bills that don't make sense.

Things are quite hectic as well, taking as many OTs (meaning that I finish at 2am) as I can, and doing freelance proofreading. These two I'm not complaining about, because the extra cash helps me stay afloat. But it does sap energy off of me.

Some days I wake up late and in a daze, feeling guilty of having missed the morning. It's hard to take that first step out of bed and out of the room and out of the house after working all night. My inactivity has further led me to put on more weight which makes me furious at myself.

Oddly though, life is good. Yeah, the crappy parts are, well, crap, but overall, it's been good. I enjoy my work, it finally feels fulfilling and I see a future in where I am. I think I can go far working here. I think I can give more to my family now, because my constant depression (when I was at my old company) has faded away and I can be a better person for them. And eventhough I don't see them as often, but the distance has made me feel all the more thankful of what I have.

The anticipation of going home to see my family makes me so excited that I feel like I need to buy gifts for everybody each time I go home. Making stops here and there to pick up a book for my sister, some Popeye's fried chicken for my brother, some home decor stuff for my mom and something my dad would like if I find any (he's a tough person to buy for :p). And when I get home, an almost audible sigh of relief escapes me. 

Living in PJ also means I get to see friends more often. Well, not that often, but with  my no longer being so far away in Cyberjaya, it's easier to plan for meetups with friends. And my colleagues are great friends, too. It's important, you know, to love the people you work with. Otherwise work will be only partly fulfilling, and you'd feel an emptiness when going to work everyday.

Asdil, of course, fills in the gaps, being all that I need. We don't see each other as often now, with my working at night and on weekends, too, and with him having classes all the way in Cheras every weekday til late. But I think that makes us stronger as a couple, and makes us grow better with each step, and hopefully prepares us better for our future.

I like the days when I have the day off, and we don't feel like going out for dinner. He'd come over and we'd cook dinner ourselves, and he'd cook up one of his mystery dishes. Then we'd have dinner while watching a comedy. It's simple, homey, and better than any fancy dinner we can ever have.

Yes, life is good. It seems like that is all I've been saying these past few entries (as far in between as they are), but that's the basic fact. Trying to make ends meet, living on your own and scraping through the month makes you go crazy, but in the end it is all worth it.

Because the bottom line is, you know that nothing in life comes for free. You have to work to get what you want, and that includes going through the hard times. I always keep in mind that Allah SWT gives to those who puts in the effort to work to reach their goals. And that keeps me going. One day, this will all pay off.

One day I will repay my parents for all they have given to me. I will make sure my little brother and sister will have a good role model and grow up to be good people. I will see that I will be there for my friends when they need someone to be their friend. One day, God willing, Asdil and I will be together for keeps and keep on being each others' shoulder to lean on.

Love,
Linzy

I have a lot more strength of heart than I often give myself credit for.

Sometimes, i dismiss it to wave away a heartfelt observation from a friendly party commenting on my ability to take so much, and get back only but a little. But more often than not, the discredit comes from not wanting to rely so much on pride than the actual quality itself. Because the more one romances the elation of a compliment, the more the fire burns, consuming the reason for the compliment itself. In its place then lies a facade of what should really be.

And that's my weakness, see. I am driven by pride. I take it all, knowing I can do it, but not understanding the limits of these two hands. In constantly outdoing myself again and again, I often forget I am what I am because of who I am, not what they say I am. Does that make sense to you?

My days are often time spent lost in the recesses of my mind. Compartmentalising, storing, feeling, prioritising... It helps me stay sane in the way I know how. Letting the pain and any other bothersome emotions wash through me in the quiet moments to myself, then leaving the dealing part to deal with. It's effective, but sometimes the heart grows weary, and sometimes gets numb from the being on the sharp edge of the knife.

Ah, but this heart is weary. All my life seems to be converging in on me, trying to happen all at once. It's wonderful, it's overwhelming, it's scary... And while I can take it all, serve them up on a platter and swallow the bitter pills that they sometimes are, I sometimes feel that this body is growing weak from lack of maintainence.

My heart is strong, but my body is weak, in more ways than one. There is a lethargy in my limbs that have set in from neglect. An almost surrender to the contours of the bed as I stretch my mind to its very limits. I have to put an end to that sooner or later, and I only hope it would be sooner.

But then, where I lack in physical strength, Asdil bridges the gap. Sometimes, all I really need is for him to hold my kitestring to make sure I don't fly too high up and disappear behind the clouds. I need him to tether me down when I'm too far, I need him to ground me in reality.

The strength he offers me can simply be the space between his arms and his chest. Or sometimes the crook of his neck where I burrow my face in as he encircles an arm around me. Or even his errant gesture of rubbing the side of my crown in assurance. And even just his hand reaching over to take mine. It doesn't take much. It's like time stops when I'm with him. And the demons that plague my thoughts decide to quiet down as I am wrapped in the moment.

I think in that way we compliment one another.

I kid you not, life has its moments. When it's hard, it really is. But those breath-catching moments, even if they are only a precious few, makes it all worth it. I can be strong, and I am strong, but the fight is only worth it if you have a reason to fight for. And I fight for the love of life, for my family, for my Asdil, for my friends, and for simply me and the future I want to have.

So, Heart, it's you and me. Let's see where this life takes us.

Love,
Hazlin

Don't talk to me about e.x.p.e.c.t.a.t.i.o.n.s.

It's a dirty word, the way it rolls off the tongue every single time and dances in the dirt every time I toss it behind me. Again and again.

Don't tell me about your e.x.p.e.c.t.a.t.i.o.n.s.

I'm getting weary of being expected to answer questions I do not have the answer to. Weary of definitions when there is nothing to define. Weary, I'm just weary.

It's difficult enough being on the outside looking in. Always the spectator. Only on the sidelines. A wallflower.

Made to feel like I'm wilting.

Don't think I haven't shed tears. It overwhelms me too much, this wanting, this yearning.

You don't think.

I don't even know whether I'll make it through today, let alone tomorrow.

I'm scared of a million and one things. Of this fragile heart that is built on promises and hopes. Of fairytales that can be untold. Of kitestrings that can be cut free. Of crossing paths that might entangle. Of foundations that might break. Of everything that might fall apart.

And then these expectations, will be just that: expectations.

And never reality.

Hush Self, you are much too proud. Too battered and beaten over the years by strongly-worded letters, rejection and battle scars. These walls are high up way to far. These walls you built with your own two hands. And your many a time wounded heart.

Hush Self, suck it up, bite your tongue. Let the doors stay closed but easily opened. Let not indignation guard the door. I promise we won't hurt like before. Those days are long gone, take those defenses from the fore. Leave, just leave the your lashing tongue, steel heart and dagger eyes at the door.

Hush Self, calm yourself down. Life is long, and yet too short for a frown. It's a long way up, and the fall is too far down.

Hush now. Self, hush. Let it wash over you, feel the rush.

I haven't been writing. Well, that's just stating the obvious.

My head's been full, but my hands even fuller. And my heart feels empty.

Hence nothing fills this empty space.

So here are a few things from the top of my head:

• Raya was one of the most uneventful I've had in years. My dad had to leave for HR training in Sweden on the first day of eid. This means that (a) - we cannot go back to my mom's hometown in Kelantan, (b) - we are stuck in Seremban for the rest of Raya, and (c) - we won't be doing anything at all. So sure enough, we stayed at home, played games, watched tv, ate and sleep.
• Attended my ex-boss' wedding in Seremban and Melaka. Am so very very happy for him. If there was one person I really respected in WK in months gone by, it was him. He had faith in me and stuck by me all the way through despite all the crap stuff I got from my other superiors. It's nice to see him happy.
• I'm glad the fasting month is over. I can get back to my normal eating habits and lose all that I've gained. Yes, fasting month is not a month to lose weight as many might assume. It's the complete opposite.
• I was VERY VERY DISAPPOINTED that the one thing that I was craving for I did not get. I wanted BUBUR LAMBUK so bad. And I didn't even manage to find any. And I am still craving :(
• I'm considering joining a fitness programme cos since I started working, I've put on a lot of weight rapidly. 
• I would like to say that I prefer a subtle obsession for the Whedonverse. I do not like to gush about it nor do I like to discuss it out in the open for everyone to hear. I like to indulge in my infatuation quietly but surely.
• I am too proud. I need to tone it down. It has toned down some this past year, and yet, it needs to go down several notches lower.

That's all for the moment. I'm having too much of a brainfreeze to think of anything else.

Love,
Linzy

I feel miserable today.

My mood was spoiled so early in the morning.

 No sign of it improving.

I felt like sleeping all day and not waking up until I have to go to work tomorrow.

I just hated the sight of everything, flinched at every harsh word.

I just want this day to end.

Managed to see Asdil for a movie and buka puasa.

He gave me a reason to smile awhile.

He gave me reason to laugh.

The movie helped, too.

I like serious, make-you-think movies when I feel like crap.

Thinking movies stimulates my mind and takes my mind off things.

Comedies just make me more pissed off and annoyed.

Having Asdil with me was a bonus, makes me feel extremely better.

But inside, I was also aching at the thought of not seeing him for more than a week.

Being far away from him scares me sometimes.

And thinking of him on the road, and the many dangers terrifies me.

I'm back home now, away from him.

I'm back to being miserable again.

It's amazing. The fact that. Well. You run off the mouth. Like water. Couldn't touch you. Like surface. Wouldn't break. Like memories. Never fade.

Perhaps. You'd like to. Meet History. Say hello. It seems that. Well. You have forgotten. History hasn't.

Sometimes I come across albums newly posted on Facebook of schoolmates who just got engaged or married. I don't bother to look into the album, it's a waste of time really. But I cannot help thinking thoughts that are mean, and yet very gratifying, even though they just cannot happen.

Like I said, I know it's mean, and so vengeful, but I look at many a schoolmate, especially the guys who were painfully mean to me, and I feel like sending a message to their fiances/wives to tell them that the guy they are associating themselves with have no respect for a person who does not fit into his viewframe. I feel like telling these girls to make sure men like these don't breed more of such people when they have offspring. There is no more room for people who cannot appreciate uniqueness.

That is, of course, assuming that these girls don't hold the same outlook as the guy they're gonna be hitched to.

I had my share of pain in highschool. I'm sure everybody did. While I don't hold my demons close and dear to me, I cannot accept that there are so many stupid people in the world. And I dread for my children to have to go through the same. I had to go through too much, and while it has made me a better person, this day and age, such pressure could almost kill.

I don't want my children growing up with people who tell you that you are unworthy of being loved because you are ugly and are not of the same standards of certain people. I don't want people telling them they are ugly and fat and unattractive. I don't want my children to be told that the only way to have somebody even give them the time of day, they would need to pay that person. I don't want my children have teachers pick on them because they are not popular or pretty like the others.

Patience, knowledge that I am better than such people, and serenity of mind kept my chin up, even though many times I felt like caving, and believing the words people said. But nowadays, the pressure is high, and not being able to live up to peer pressure takes a deep toll on many kids. I'm afraid of my children's future.

So I often feel like giving my highschool tormentors a piece of my mind. And tell their wives/fiancees also that they should keep an eye out and ensure that no such scum of the earth is brought up. Of course, I can also give them a reason of a doubt and say they're changed now, but well, just in case.

In any case, I have no frakking idea why these people are in my Facebook list of friends anyway. I should definitely annihilate them. Spring cleaning here I come :P


Love,
Linzy

Ah, the torment is here again. The ache, the want, the painful anticipation. It's here again, tenfold. But then again it never left, just stayed in the shade til it is cool again to tempt the fire.

The fire inside rages. Wanting release, wanting gratification. It calls out to an unknown soul it has yet to know.

Please simmer down, please. We'll know the when it's time.

So many days and nights
So many hours spent on fights
And all those seconds ticked by,
like reason without rhyme
And all those moments gone
to end in this moment in time.
Tell me, where do I begin?
So many words, yet this is the end.
This is the end.
Oh God, this is the end.
Take my hand now, our time is ending
Let's take this last moment before parting.
Let me take the hurt, all the blame
Let me ease all the anger and the pain
Let me say the words you need to hear
Let me take away all your fear.
Take my hand now, and let's just burn
Set us on fire and let it burn.

My colleague, Su Lyn, introduced me to an interesting website which features a whole lot of guys reading books. The site was aptly named "Hot Guys Reading Books".

I like the intro to the site:

There are plenty of attractive men in the world, but unfortunately few of them that are avid readers. Welcome to "Hot Guys Reading Books" the blog that scours the internet for examples of luscious literary men and gathers the evidence in one place.

It's pretty much what Sarah (was it you, Sarah? But then again I don't recall ever talking about stuff like this to anyone else) and I always say: Guys who read are hot.

Me, my man reads, and he's hot when does so. So I don't really need this website to get some eye candy ;-p And I do think I've sneaked a few snapshots of him devouring a book...hehehe.

But that is not the only instance that makes a guy extra hot.

What gets my  motor revving?

I've been saying this from the very moment I started admiring the masculine species. Oh, and have always been adamant about this the first time I saw Johnny Rzeznik strumming. But men holding and/or strumming a guitar are hot. It ranks at three, but hell, can I just say 'yum'?

At number two we have the very reason why this entry is here in the first place. Men who read are just so hot. A guy with knowledge is hot, and hence, a guy who indulges in some literary candy is just as scrumptious. I like a guy who can sit down and discuss a book with me.

And...

The ultimate sexiness is a man holding a baby. Men holding babies look so darn hot. Bonus points if the baby is his, but even if the baby isn't, it is a sight that warrants a sharp intake of breath, and a hearty sigh. It is heart-melting. Knee-buckling. It's got a lot to do with the mother in every woman that just rings those biological clock alarms when they see a man in a tender moment with a child. And I am happily not immune to such a sight. I love it, and feel my heart racing at the sight of it; it's a rush of impatience and excitement of such a prospect.

So there you have it. A look into what gets me ticking like the crocodile in Peter Pan. In my life I've never divulged much of what I think about men, and the bulk of my friends can hardly recall me every gushing/talking/gossiping about guys. I only talk about it with a very very very select few.

But hell, I'm straight. And God knows what goes in my mind, and He knows it's safer kept private :p

Meanwhile, I have had the luxury of seeing Asdil in all three situations. Except that we do not have children yet. And while the number one in my list is far from becoming reality just right now, one day Insyaallah, we'll get there.

So here's to all the women who agree with these three. Cheers.

And when I tell him I love him, he tells me he loves me more.

Love,
Linzy

....then I'd be living in bloody peace.

I wish, I just I wish I had many merry bushels of cash that I can buy a house with and never ever worry about looking for a house ever ever ever again. 

Tears on a lonely night.

It'd make a good song or a poem if it wasn't so heartbreaking. And it feels like it is. Again.

"I am no solution to the sound of this pollution in me" - Here is gone

I can't fight this restlessness.
It's like wanting to run but not knowing where to go. It's like standing still but you really are falling. It's like you're alone, even when you're not.

I feel a sense of incompletion.
Like I lost a part of me and I cannot find it. Like a part of me died, and the rest of me cannot function without it.

I sometimes think life is passing me by.
Shakespeare said we are all players on this stage; and yet I feel as if I am only a spectator with the cheapest ticket. Edge of my seat, taking in what I see, but cannot feel.

I am lost.
Tell me where to go. Hell, tell me my name. Because I think I have forgotten.

Love is the familiar stranger who returns to you like a long forgotten friend. A grown man taking place the image of a boy you once known, yet with the same smile you almost forgot. He is one who'll take your heart now you've grown to be the one who'll take who he's grown to be.

Love is the thing you know but never have known. It's the beat of the heart you know that's there, but never feel it til it skips and  pulls at your heartstrings.

Love is the home you return to after a weary fight. A comfort that welcomes you into its waiting arms.

Love is holding your head up high, knowing that in spite of everything, you are loved. Something not many have the luxury of having.

Love is for me, the space between his protective arms and his strong chest as he pulls me closer. Love is his gentle kiss against my brow in greeting or departing. Love is his caress of my hair, down to my cheek in quiet comfort. Love is the assurance he gives as he slips his hand between my fidgety ones. Love is the rumbling in my belly from all the butterflies he still gives me. Love is the neverending excitement of anticipation, waiting to see him again. Love is fooling and joking about like a bunch of 16-year-olds on a sugar high.

Love is a million and one things; some of which I can twine into a sentences, and some of which I can never put to words.

But importantly, my love has a name: Asdil.

Love,
Linzy

My mother used to tell me to never ever tell a person that he or she reminds you of someone. Especially if that person whom you think your friend/the person in front of you resembles is a celebrity or some other well known person.

Why? Because you never know what that person might think of the person whom you just said looks like him or her. And I totally agree with my mom.

I mean, think about it. For example, I hate Renee Zelwegger. No reason, really, but I just couldn't stand her. I avoid movies with her in it, and never did see the entertainment factor in Bridget Jone's Diary, and the fact that she was in it made me loathe the movie all the more. So if anybody were to say I remind another person of Renee, I'd go have meself a facelift.

Ok, maybe that's too far off a story. Let's take Hilary Duff. Some years back, a few people said I look like her. I don't find her unattractive or anything, but looking at her annoys me to no end. Perhaps it was because at the time, Lizzie Maguire was all the rage and Disney was squeezing every cent they can from her popularity. So I associated Miss Duff with something icky and to be avoided at all times. So imagine my disgust when several people from school told me I look like her. It was almost insulting, but I wouldn't say that to the person who commented.

Thing is, I know when people say things like that, they mean good. Well, most of the time anyway. But in general, it is supposed to be a compliment. After all, celebrities almost always look good and that being compared to them should be a good thing, right? Wrong.



So really, my advice is that shouldn't openly compare a person to somebody else's looks to be on the safe side.

Me, I've had my share. Never actually felt chuffed at any of the comments, and for the most part, I just displayed a huge amount of disbelief.

The worse would of course be Hilary Duff, whom I makes me think "tween on sugar", but the others were pretty tame enough for me to regard it with indifference.

Of course I was never met with the same indifference. It was more of adamant threat for me to comply and agree with the comment. But heck, I couldn't care enough to, well, care. 

I've been compared to an Indonesian actress once, but just once so I don't count that. And also a Bollywood actress a couple of times, but that because I was wearing something that looked like what she was wearing in a movie. The most comments I've gotten was that I look like Melissa Joan Hart, and this was the time in highschool. Supposedly it was around the eye area and face shape, but hell, I never saw any similarities. Second up is Summer Glau, this was a few years back by some friends. And when I was 12ish until I was about 14 or so, it was Christina Ricci.

But really, are your eyes really skewed?

I just like looking like myself.

I like the way I look, me being just plain and all, but I really don't mind.

 Love,
Linzy

If it was possible, I'd liketo disengage my brain and put it in a box for a while so that I don't need to think. You know, like in comics or cartoons where they will take out their dentures before going to bed? I'd like to do that, unhinge my skull, and place my brain in a box for safekeeping, until I'm ready to put it back in.

Better yet, if I could run it through a washing machine, or dust out the annoying thoughts like pebbles in a shoe.

I just need a break from thinking. My mind is overdrive and there is no solace from it. I need comfort that these coming years will be void of all this, and yet, there is no assurance for anything. It's all a wildcard.

I cannot deal right now. The voices in my head are just jarring...I want them to stop stop STOP. I'm tired, and I don't need these unnecessary worries that weigh down this already weary mind.

Please make it stop.

I need to clear my head.

Sometimes when I'm at work, and I'm a little worn out, and my mind starts to go to its own happy place, I have thoughts of you, more often that not.

These thoughts are a beautiful distraction. Sometimes alittle bit too much. Sometimes a little creepy. Especially when I get that smirk at the corner of my lips, eyes a bit far away, and my biting my lips to hold back from making involuntary sighs.

It's the words you say, little gestures, your cheeky expressions, wide smile, th ethings you do...it's everything.

I can't help it. My thoughts are filled with you. All the things I dream of doing involves you being right there with me.

Don't blame me. You made it impossible not to love you.

Love,
NeQ

I wouldn't call myself a fashionista. I love clothes, that's a definite 'yes'; and anyone who has known me long enough would notice that my supply of clothes is so that you could hardly see me wearing the same combo in a month (although I am guilty of overwearing non-iron t-shirts or blouses every now and again). But fashion savvy I am not.

I just love how clothes make me feel. I know beauty is skin-deep, but there's nothing shallow about feeling good on the outside other than just on the inside. When I feel good in both ways, I feel I can take over the world.

But a plus-size girl like me can't enjoy just anything sold in shops. Often I would need to hunt down the sizes I want, or even hunt down a shop that sells decent enough clothing in my size that doesn't look grandma.

But see, that adds to the allure. The fact that I have to work extra hard to look for something I could wear and on top of that, look for something that my salary could accommodate, adds fun to the chase of buying clothes. It makes it all the more precious. And when you've zero-ed in on that perfect outfit, you wanna hold on and never let go.

Nowadays, blogshops have been a saving grace. Clothes are now cheaper, prettier and less run-of-the-mill. Some shop is always offering something different from the rest. And you can just go ga-ga over the choices. The problem with sizes has also been minimized with so many plus-sized boutiques out there. Us gals are spoilt for choice, really.

I admit I feel out of place during times I've been into places like TopShop or Forever21 when friends wanna go there to shop. Aside from the lack of size, the prices there are especially a deterrent. If my salary could speak, it would outrightly say "Hell, no". But even if money wasn't that much of an issue, and even though their prices are not that bad, paying for just clothing at that price is like being robbed blind. Well, in my opinion anyway.

So here's me, not concerned and not up to date about the fashion world, but loves fashion nonetheless. And with my tight budget, finding affordable clothes also needs to be factored in. So I'm proud to call myself the thrifty plussize shopper; hell, I ain't afraid to say it.

Love,
Linzy

Bobbing to nobody's beat
A solitary island
Standing still
Waiting
Waiting
Waiting
For the ship to sail in
And remind it again
That these spaces between
Is for the rush
When the tide comes in.

(c) Hazlin Aminudin, 2010

Baby, come close this space between us. I miss you.
Disclaimer: Beautiful photo of a lone boat, titled "Lone shark" is by a.kay47 from Flickr.

It's a sight for sore eyes, being able to see some good friends. The Aust-Bs were like family to me in WK, and they still do feel like family.

It's funny, I feel like it's been a whole long while since I left. I jived with Setar so easily that I felt like I've been doing it forever. And yet, when I sit down with them awesome Aust-Bs, it feels like I never left them behind. That bunch of friends is a bunch like no other.

Perhaps it is too naive for me to wish that we'll always be this way. Like 10 years down the road, heck, one year down the road, we can meet up and still laugh like we always have. But I can wish, yeah? No harm in that. We might go our own ways one day and find greater bonds, but at the very least, I hope this memory will be lasting.

For now, I'm content with the knowledge I have these friends, and they're there when I need them. And they're awesome indeed.

So Aust-Bs, I hope to see you again soon. Perhaps for a makan that is not hindered by Tracker and webnews. Sometime when we could just kickback and have some laughs, with some shisha in the mix to keep Jimmy Boy quiet. And with no lamb so that Epol won't have to sob longingly. And cute guys for Mary to ogle. Heheh...You get my drift.

Well Aust-Bs, you guys were great. Thanks for a good rekindling of memories. Life just ain't the same without going to work with you crazy people. Until next time...And hopefully when Arv and Adrian can join us.

Til we meet again.
Linzy <-- that's how you spell it, Arv :p

Linzy extraordinaire has done it again, ladies and gents. Several years after the fiasco at her dorm, she managed to once again lock herself out of her room. And not just out of her room, but also locked in her own home.
Yep, she forgot her key in her room, meaning she cant get into her room nor she can leave the house. Bloody brilliant. Good show, Linzy.
To top it off, her housemates are not in, and they're not reachable. All her phone calls were for naught. Dammit.
Luckily I have my phone to call for food delivery, cos it's 4pm and I ain't even had a meal today. So now I'm fed but have no idea what to do. Tried fiddling with the doorknob, and sliding a card through the lock but zero joy.
Sigh...I'm just so damn smart.

Sometimes I wish I could just fastforward this part of life and jump straight to the part where I am not insane with worries, not wracking my brains how to survive the next few weeks. Sometimes I wish I could just get to the part where I don't have to stare into space thinking about how to get through the month, when I don't have to have such short of patience because I'm constantly on edge.

But hey, if wishes were horses, right? I'd be bloody riding right now. The horses, I mean. Ahem.

Money troubles, house troubles, life worries, family worries; they all weigh down heavily on my shoulders, and quickly turning my hair white (so much so that Asdil has a fun time pulling them out and commenting how old I've gotten). Sometimes I don't need to go through this part of life and just click on the forward button.

But hell, we all know that these are the times that make you. It's difficult and just so damn painful, but these are the years that shape the things to come. I know all this, of course, but I just wish it wasn't so hard.

On the upside, though, I still have my family who loves me regardless. My mom, whom I, as of late, argue with way too much than usual, helps me through wherever she can despite it all. I am terribly guilty, and a terribly bad daughter this past year, and yet, the things she does for me is just unbelievable. My siblings, especially my sister, makes me smile and gives me the strength cos I know I have to be strong for my siblings. And Asdil, he's been with me every step of the way, been there when I cry my eyes out, and have just kept on loving me, even on days when I don't love myself. He's the one who has been there on days I'm alone, far from family...he's been so many things in one single person, and it's awesomeness.

So, for the most part, even when in pain, I can still say "screw it", I'm loved and that can be enough for me, even if I don't got anything else. These are trying times, and it can be hard just getting by a month, but despite it all, there are things life that are much much better than everything else. And most importantly, they are free :)

Love,
Linzy

I'm glad I pestered myself to pester the duty roster person to have my off days changed so I could make it for the Terengganu trip. Risky as it is (as I've heard many bad things about the person), I don't regret my last minute change of mind.

After thinking it over, I really have to say, I cannot possibly miss my best friend's wedding; and with Fidzy's mom persuading me as well, I'd feel guilty if I didn't go. Also, the idea to get away a while with Asdil being in the mix definitely sealed the deal for me.
So I got my off days, and I packed up for the Friday morning-Sunday morning trip on a chartered bus.

• Asdil picked me up early Friday morning from my apartment to go to Fidzy's place. I was assigned baju pengantin-minder duty which sat with me the whoole trip. The bus came at around 9.30am, and after we loaded everything on the bus, we went off.
• Traffic smooth-moving, since it was a weekday and is not a peak period when everyone is off somewhere. Watched cartoons all the way to Terengganu. Got to watch Meet the Robinsons, a favourite :)
• Stayed at a rented bungalow by the beach. So the first thing we did as soon as we got settled into the 7 rooms with 44 beds house was hit the beach obviously. Asdil took the kids into the water while I frolicked at the shore taking pictures and catching hermit crabs with Fidzy :p
• Walked to the closest restaurant which was not actually close. And yet, despite that, I took a walk along the beach and shops further up from the place we're staying with one of the aunties who were on the trip. We walked so far, and then had a late night snack at A&W. Ash came looking for us later and escorted us back. Note to self: bring walking shoes when with Auntie Gina.
• The rooms and beds were comfy. From past experience of staying in rented bungalows, conditions can get real bad, but this one was actually nice. Lucky Ash got a room all to himself (which was good cos I could sneak in to get some smoochies before I went to my room next door to sleep :p)
• We went in search for nasi dagang early the next morning. Again, we walked all the way down the road for a meal, especially since there was only one shop selling nasi dagang.
•  When we got back, I quickly got ready for the wedding at Shu's home in Pulau Rusa. I was Fidzy's somewhat of a pengapit, so nasib baik I decided on taking my green-blue baju kurung with me, so I somewhat matched the theme.
• There was no persandingan on this end, but just Fidzy sitting on a dais next to Shu's mother accepting money/gifts from visitors and giving out eggs. I just sat next to Fidzy to fan her and make sure her makeup from don't run. Kesian Fidzy looked so nervous. Relax babe :)
• We stayed there awhile, then headed back to the bungalow, since we had to check out by 2.30pm. After we packed, we headed to the pasar so the ladies can go check out batiks, clothes, foodstuff and other things. We were given 2 hours to shop.
• Ash and I took off by ourselves. We went around the entire pasar, which was quite big, bought some souvenirs and were done. And when we looked at the time, we had only spent 20 minutes :p So what were we to do for the next 1 hour and 40 minutes? We saw some bechas by the side of the road and decided to take a ride around town. It was fun, and it's been a while since I've been on one. It was nice a breezy, had a chatty becha-paddler, and it was a nice quaint place to see while on becha. A nice and slow ride was a good way to spend time to see the place up close with running commentary by the pakcik.
• What was not conveyed to everyone was that the bus we were on had problems with its suspension, which needs repairing. So it was highly possible we'd be stranded for a while. So after the shoping was done, and after we visited the Masjid Kristal, we headed back to all the restaurants by the beach part of town (Batu Burok) and stayed there til about 12am.
• Before it hit 7pm, Ash and I took the kids to the beach for a swim. Had some fun in the water before we headed to the shops for dinner. The kids have warmed up to me by then and stuck to me for the rest of the night, and the aunties were commenting that I was preparing for motherhood :p Hey, I just love kids, kay. They were adorable, I couldn't help fawning over them.
• Took the kids to the playground where we stayed til late, waiting for the bus to be repaired. The guys headed to the nearest restaurant with a big screen to watch the World Cup (Germany vs Argentina). Was there for many many hours until the bus driver finally announced the bus was alright and we could go.
• Drive back was freakingly cold. Tapi I lagi kesian one of the kids who didn't have a jacket and was only wearing a sleeveless dress, so I let her wear my jacket. I instead put on 3 layers of clothes. But was still cold...yeah, I hate air conditioning. Stopped by McDonald's at Taman Melati for brekkie at around 6am.
• Reached TTDI around 7-ish. Kids didn't want me to go home, and I didn't feel like going home too. Two of them sat on my lap so that I couldn't leave. The kids were just the darlingest and I still wanted to sit around and play and chat with them. But I had to work at 4pm (yes, on a Sunday), so I needed to get some much needed Zzzzzs before work.
• Was sad to go home and leave the kids. They're just so lovable. But I'm at work now, and still reeling from the afterglow of a good trip.

All in all, it was good to see Fidzy and Shu happy. The trip was worth it, both in the sense of being at the reception, and having fun on the trip as well :) Loved every second.

Love,
Linzy

I'm watching Hachiko, and it's pulling on the heartstring that broke the day my cat Sawadikap died. I'm not ashamed for saying a cat broke part of my heart which will never heal. I'm more ashamed that I grew up and put aside his stalwart friendship, his bond with me. I just hope that he knows that I'm sorry for making him wait for me to return. I'm sorry that he waited for me for so long, and waited through his sickness before he finally let go. I'm sorry it took me so long. I'm sorry I let you down. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you, Kap. I hope you forgive me. I love you, baby.

Aku keliru dan buntu
Tidak tahu siapa yang silap
Is it me or you?
Tell me because my heart
Feels like it's split in two.

I have to admit that I do not fully understand why so many women have issues when the World Cup season makes its appearance. I really don't. And the bitchy bitching sessions about respective partners being too engrossed in the game deepens the desire to not even want to understand said issues.

Linzy

Disclaimer: The photo does not belong to me, obviously. Photo is sttributed to Ina Fassbender of Reuters, via Setar.

I have to admit, for the first time since I started my working life, I feel appreciated for my quality of work. I feel accomplished, like I'm part of something and I am contributing towards it. I feel like I am needed in order for this machine to function. I go to work with a sense of purpose, and responsibility lies heavy yet easy on my shoulders. I feel like for once, I am an employee.

Setar has been good to me my first month. Although I felt abit out place, I jived easily into the workflow. My colleagues and superiors are nice, and they help me and give me pointers every now and then. Although they are much much older than I am (most of them must be around my parents' age or older, even), they don't make me feel stupid and immature. The benefits here are great, as they give security to me as well as my family. And while the pay is not as great as before, it's a small price to pay for a sane mind.

Before, in Woter Kooler, I was trapped in their fishbowl. I felt as dumb as a 3-second memory goldfish who swam around the tank and was constantly scrutinized to the very detail. Oh, your eyes are too bugged out or Oi, your fins stick out at an odd angle or Hey there, your tail is out of shape. Like please, shut up. They're my eyes, my fins and my tail. And if they are not like yours, then leave me the hell alone. You cannot expect me to be the very same like all the other fish.

On top of that, I felt like a failure. I felt stupid, unwanted, good for nothing and a waste of space. Most days I spent the my time after work crying or staring into space feeling like a loser. I was weary of that. I was tired of sobbing uncontrollably in Asdil's arms being weak and insecure. I couldn't deal that way. I am not that kind of person. It was not fair to myself, unhealthy. I didn't recognize my own self in the mirror. I was a shadow of myself. It wasn't fair to the people I love having to bear the brunt of my insecurities and anger. I couldn't treat them that way. I just needed a way out.

And Setar was it.

Don't get me wrong, though. I miss my friends in Woter Kooler. Being in that team, made the torment bearable. With them, I could smile through my pain, even on days when I escape to cry in the restroom. They were good friends to me, and I felt accepted and well loved and happy. Unfortunately, it is not reason enough to stay.

At the end of the day, it's the work that matters. While earning the money that puts food in your belly, a shelter over your head and a bed to sleep in is the point of being employed and earning a good salary, you have to enjoy what you do. And you need to be appreciated for they work that you do so that you may stay on and keep on doing said work. You need it to stay sane, to be able to wake up each morning and want to continue living the way you do. We all need a reason to keep pushing on.

So for me, Setar is my saviour. Of course, it may be too early for all this to be said. It may be so that I ain't seen nothing yet, but I'm with the strength I've re-gathered after surviving my last experience, I am sure I can go though whatever they throw me. I think I am a much stronger person now than before. Just give me time.

I think I'll shine through.

Love,
Linzy

P/s: My one and only Asdil, thank you for putting up with me during those difficult times. Your patience and words  and comfort gave me strength when I had none. I love you.

I've got my own, my mirror in hand. And what's glass but only sand?

What's sand but the infinite time? Little pebbles of moments never quantified. Only a fleeting glance of a breaking wave. Washes up to shore then back again.

Mine is the infinity of time. The reflection from the sea. The strength of the crashing waves.

I don't need your facade, your fickle heart.
My footsteps are in the sand, and with it I make art.

I haven't been in the right frame of mind to talk about the things that have been happening for the past few weeks. Everytime I begin to attempt typing out my thoughts, I am stunted by my inability to write and/or put them into words. So here's what I've been doing these past few weeks

• I left WKESP officially on the 29th of April 2010. More specifically, I left Aust-B. I had a very very long cry, not being able to believe I won't be walking into that office again and see them each day. They gave me hugs, which made me cry harder and they all had a procession for me, walking me to the door, for one last time. Leaving them feels like letting go of family. But the best thing about family is that, they're always there for you. I'm halting any entries about leabving WK at the moment until I can sort out my thoughts and feelings.
• I moved out of Cyberjaya on the 30th of April. Ash did most of the job. I packed everything up and he loaded it into the van we borrowed from my uncle. Then we drove to PJ and he unloaded the van for me. I couldn't have done it without him (thanks Sayang). And of course, thanks to my family, too. Who helped me carry the second round of stuff. Yes, I have that much stuff...mostly books and clothes.  
• Starting on May 3rd, I am now an employee of the Star. To be specific, a sub-editor for the Star. The Star newspaper that I've been reading daily. Feels almost like a dream. It's different here, but I like it. Work-wise, I do feel very much more accomplished than how I felt in WK.
• I'm now living in PJ. Around the Tropicana area to be more precise. No, not next to Tropicana City Mall like people keep asking. It's near the Tropicana Golf Resort. The condo is called Bayu Puteri Tropicana. It's quite a nice place. House is a bit of a fixer-upper due to an irresponsible landlord, but I'll manage.
• Did I mention my working hours are from 4pm to 12am daily? Uhh, yeah, I start work at 4pm and leave for home around 12am. Wonderful hours for me, cos that's when I work best. And it's not like I have a nightlife anyway, so it's no problem for me. I get to see Ash in the daytime and spend more waking hours with him especially since now I live about 15 minutes away from him and not 50 minutes like when I was in Cyberjaya.
• I'm still getting used to my new area, new job, new schedule, new house...alot of things are still on my mind. But all in all, I'm feeling content right now; like things are falling into place, just need a few things sorted before they can fit even better.

Love,
Linzy

I've been behind on the current news these past few days, I've hardly touched any newspapers, nor even I have the time to switch on the tv for the 8 o'clock news. Heck, I'm not even home for the 8 o'clock news.

So I was shocked when I saw several of my schoolmates joining groups dedicated to a 15 year old boy named Aminulrasyid.

Who is this boy? What happened? And then I read the news...

My heart stopped. Why would the police shoot a 15 year old boy dead? What did he do? Why this juvenile who is not even of age to be tried as an adult? This boy who is the same age as my brother?

It hit especially close to home because, it simply was. The boy was from Shah Alam. Section 11. I used to hang out there often. Spent many a lazy day at the mamak. The boy went to my school. Sekolah Menengah Kebangsaan Seksyen 9. He's stepped on the same ground I used to tread when I was his age. I sat in those same classrooms. I stood at attention in that same hall. And at his age, in that school, PMR looming closer, I felt the wonder of tomorrow, and a future that soon will be mine.

And his was taken away from him.

What could warrant a shootout at a young boy? 26 shots went into him for what? For driving without a license? For doing what any kid would do caught in the act...running away? Where is the justice in that? Even if the police couldn't see who it was, how old the driver was...why shoot him 26 times? In cases like that, why couldn't they shoot the tyres so he couldn't get away? 26 times? That was shooting to kill. That seems like the doing of some trigger-happy bunch of people.

Here was a 15 year-old boy who went to take the family car for a spin, but had a run in with the police and tried to get away, just a mere 100 meters from his home. And to stop him from taking off, the police shoot him. 26 times. Tell me what in the bleeding hell is that.

And the excuses I've been reading? I think it's all pure BS. The initial report, I can hardly believe. I think they're stories to make up for a terrible mess up.

Perhaps I am cynical, but I've been having a hard time believing in people nowadays. And perhaps I'm just too skeptical, but I cannot imagine what I read be the actual case.

And the saddest thing? This boy will probably never see justice be upheld.

So dear Aminulrasyid, may you rest in peace, and may Allah bless you. And I pray that justice be met. Amin.

A former Nyn9r,
Hazlin

Do read:
This, and
This.
And tell me what you think.

It's only days until I say goodbye to Wolters Kluwer for good. Only hours, in fact. Since if I were to offset my annual leave balance, I'd only have 3 hours and 45 minutes left to be in the office.