Sup3rnality

Have you heard of 8tracks?

It's hand-crafted radio - meaning a mix of songs chosen by a user.
It can be a compilation following a certain theme, genre or just a plain ol' mix of your favourite songs.

For my 4th anniversary with Asdil, this mix suited me really well: 

This one's for you, dear

For the most part, I feel like this girl here, Hazel Tellington. You can find her at Girls With Slingshots.

Minus the fact that she has a major addiction to alcohol, I feel like her sometimes.

English major, works, oh wait, worked for a newspaper, writes and hey, our names are quite similar.

I relate to her once looking for love phase. And yet, at the same time, to how much she is a closet romantic - nonchalant on the outside, an overload of poetry at heart. Oh, and that she is a reluctant pervert - filthy-minded yet living life so (supposedly) prim.

And yes, and that she has a love-hate relationship with her not-so-generous boobs.

#28

This song always makes me think of you.

I watched you sleepin' quietly in my bed

You don't know this now but 

There's somethings that need to be said

And it's all that I can hear

It's more than I can bear

What if I fall and hurt myself

Would you know how to fix me?

What if went and lost myself

Would you know where to find me?

If forgot who I am 

Would you please remind me?

Oh, cause without you things go hazy.

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.

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.

I somehow came across this site which allows you to ask a person anything you want, and you can either stay anonymous or announce yourself as the person who asked.

I thought this was pretty cool because of two main things; the first being the fact that I love filling in forms and questionnaires. And the second would be because it would be interesting to see what people would like to know about me, or would want my opinion on. And they have the freedom on whether they want to make themselves known as the asker, or be blissfully anonymous as I find the words to answer the question, not knowing by whom it was posed.

Of course, it goes without saying that I will answer the best I can, as long as the questions are reasonable and answerable. And in the even any sensitive and/or candid questions be asked, I would answer tactfully, and would give a non-answer if need be.

But go ahead. Don't let that stop you. Let's see what you've got for me.

Ask me anything http://formspring.me/Sup3rnal

• Had a very good morning, the way all mornings should start ;)
• Had a good brunch with Sayang at Tropicana City Mall at a restaurant called Otak-otak Place. It has an ol'skool, classroom concept which is pretty endearing. The food was served in them good ol' mangkuk sia or mangkuk tingkat which is pretty neat. And the restaurant was decorated with toys from the yesteryears, ie those khaki green toy soldiers, marbles, pick-up stix, boardgames like ludo, and their notice boards were of course the those blackboards (or green, rather) like in school. The table itself had bottle caps and a deck of Happy Family cards to play with while waiting for our food. At their cashier counter, there were glass jars of Tora, lollipops and other childhood favourite snacks. And their menu was like school exercise books. Niceness! Oh, and did I mention the food was good, too? I had nasi lemak and rendang ayam. The rice was really lemak and the rendang so yummy. Check out these reviews for more info and pictures:

1. You get what you give
2. KYSpeaks
3. ShoppingSalesQueen
4. KLue, or
5. visit their site itself to know what I mean: Otak-otak Place 

• Lepaked at Badass Coffee for a cuppa while waiting for the time to push off to Section 16, PJ for my appointment. The appointment itself had me sigh a sigh of relief...a new chapter is beginning, and I'm scared but excited. I cannot wait. I'm sad, but also happy. I can't wait.
• Went back to Tropicana City Mall to wait out the rain and jam time. Decided to go watch a movie. I picked How to Train Your Dragon and it was simply awesome. Hands down the best movie I've seen this year and the most fun animation I've watched in a while. I've gotten tired of the run-of-the-mill animation movies but I decided to give this one a try. Definitely worth it :) Sayang and I had a good time laughing and  being at the edge of our seats at the more scary bits.
• Went to the game arcade for two rounds of Daytona USA. Highlight was when I smashed into Ash's car from behind to slow him down...nevermind that I lost :p
•  Drove back to Cyber -- one of the best times spent with Ash would be when we are in the car, driving somewhere and just talking.
• Had a good dinner at Rahim's and my chapati was yummy. Abit weird for chapati texture, but was good nonetheless...very buttery and soft. Yum.

And now I'm home and reliving the best parts of the day...which is all of it. I'm content, and no words anyone could say could change that.

Love,
Linzy

I was a bright child, my mom used to tell me. Ever inquisitive, loved IQ-related puzzles and toys and solved them fast, a reader, and observant. But there were some things I took a while to catch up on. I was late in being able to tell time. I had trouble remembering left from right. Mathematics was a pain, cos it takes me forever to understand a concept (takes months), and often, I would come up with a different way of calculating which gave me correct answers, but round-about, complicated and not accepted in exams. This and many other things.

These were just passed off as just some things that I was weak at; because in different areas I learned superbly fast and was top of the class, or understood better than others. After all, we all have strengths and weaknesses, so no one can possibly be mad at me or anyone else to be not good at everything.

There were other oddities about me that people used to point out, but I never quite took them to be anything else but just a quirk of character. I suffer from Spoonerism. I hold a pen at an odd angle and grip (my cousin once sat me down and tried to get me to hold the pen the way that everyone else does and is more "comfortable". I tried, couldn't, and got so frustrated I cried cos I didn't see what was so wrong with the way I write--It was comfortable to me). It took quite some time for me to understand how to tie my shoes. I understood and learned how to spell quite late (thankfully later I mastered it, and am a school spelling bee champion). I tend to daydream alot and often.

Along with that, I found that there are many things about myself that happened too often. Like problems with depth perception, reading a passage but skip a line or reread the same line, see movements at the corner of my eye and lots of other things. But I never mentioned any of this as I always thought it was not unusual. I was sure that any other person could have this problem.

One time, though, Ash and I were playing Inspector Parker on his laptop. I've never played that game so he was teaching me how, and then let me play a few rounds on my own. He noticed that I could not assess the puzzle before me just by looking at it. I would have to sort of "read out loud" that this is left, and this is right, or this is 2 boxes away and this is 3 boxes down and what not. So he decided to mess with me and ruin my concentration. When I was going on about this being left and that being right, he would "correct" me and told left is right and right is left. I blindly followed, not noticing that it was wrong. And if he pointed to the left and said right, I would follow too. It took me awhile to notice the discrepancy and readjust my thoughts to think that right is right and left is left. We were laughing so hard, and he playfully and lovingly patted me on the head and said I was "cacat" :p

Part of me that night realized that--while all this while I had a problem with direction, but always thought of it as a slip of the tongue--what I had was a condition. Dyslexia came into mind, and it sorta made sense, because when I thought back to my childhood, there were symptoms. It's just that I never said anything about it therefore or complained about it therefore it was not apparent.

I went online and looked for symptoms of dyslexia, and there it was. As it turns out, all those things I used to have all pointed to me being dyslexic. But my parents or anyone never noticed because: a) they're not apparent, b) they could easily be thought as a lack of judgment/slip of tongue/miscommunication/etc, c) I never complained about any of this symptoms, and d) nothing pointed out to the common dyslexic symptoms.

According to symptoms listed on this site, these are the ones I have, which are signs of dyslexia:

• Appears bright, highly intelligent, and articulate but unable to read, write, or spell at grade level.
• High in IQ, yet may not test well academically; tests well orally, but not written.
• Feels dumb; has poor self-esteem; hides or covers up weaknesses with ingenious compensatory strategies; easily frustrated and emotional about school reading or testing.
• Seems to "Zone out" or daydream often; gets lost easily or loses track of time.
• Learns best through hands-on experience, demonstrations, experimentation, observation, and visual aids.

• Complains of dizziness, headaches or stomach aches while reading.
• Confused by letters, numbers, words, sequences, or verbal explanations. 
• Reading or writing shows repetitions, additions, transpositions, omissions, substitutions, and reversals in letters, numbers and/or words.
• Complains of feeling or seeing non-existent movement while reading, writing, or copying.
• Seems to have difficulty with vision, yet eye exams don't reveal a problem.
• Extremely keen sighted and observant, or lacks depth perception and peripheral vision.
• Reads and rereads with little comprehension.

• Has extended hearing; hears things not said or apparent to others; easily distracted by sounds.

• Trouble with writing or copying; pencil grip is unusual; handwriting varies or is illegible.
• Clumsy, uncoordinated, poor at ball or team sports; difficulties with fine and/or gross motor skills and tasks; prone to motion-sickness.
• Can be ambidextrous, and often confuses left/right, over/under.

• Has difficulty telling time, managing time, learning sequenced information or tasks, or being on time.
• Computing math shows dependence on finger counting and other tricks; knows answers, but can't do it on paper.
• Can do arithmetic, but fails word problems; cannot grasp algebra or higher math.

• Excellent long-term memory for experiences, locations, and faces.

• Extremely disorderly or compulsively orderly.
• Had unusually early or late developmental stages (talking, crawling, walking, tying shoes).
• Strong sense of justice; emotionally sensitive; strives for perfection.
• Mistakes and symptoms increase dramatically with confusion, time pressure, emotional stress, or poor health.

So I found out I was dyslexic. I'm not at all bothered by it. It's just a condition, not who I am. I am just surprised that it all went unnoticed for years. It explains alot of things. Really. There are all these things about me that I have and am sometimes annoyed by, but cannot help. Or mistakes I often make and can never seem to correct, or takes a while to correct or learn. Turns out it all points to one thing.

I'm glad I didn't know it earlier in my life. Otherwise I would have used it as an excuse for everything. Or if people knew about it, put a name to my quirkiness; people would treat me differently, and second-guess me, or think I have a sort of dysfunction and am not normal.

As far as I know, I'm normal, but with some malfunction that makes my brain work a little different than others'. But I eventually get there. People might think it's weird, but then again, people already think I'm weird cos of my being a little off-center. So let's not add to that thought.

Dyslexic or no, I am like any other person. I have my strengths and weaknesses. And even if dyslexia didn't hinder my other abilities, I suppose I would always be a language person, who loves books and words and thinking and analyzing and abstract ideas. And that had carried me far, cos I find that I excel in these areas, sometimes more than others. I see what others don't see and understand things deeper and faster than most. And I did well in my studies and now on my chosen career path. So maybe, I would have to thank my dyslexia for that.

So I guess what I'm saying is that, if you are dyslexic, or know somebody dyslexic, don't put them down, or treat them different or talk down to them. They are like everybody else; only that their disabilities have a specific name. If everybody was good at everything, life wouldn't be half as fun, and everybody would all be just the same. So appreciate diversity, it's why I'm not you and you are not me.

I love how one's imperfection can make them so perfect.

Love,
Linzy

Disclaimer: Pictures from Learn Something Every day and Dyslexia Testing Australia.

I do not have much work to do these past few weeks. And on top of that, I've been finishing the balance of last year's annual leave (it expires the end of this month), so I'm not in the working mood. Instead I've been reading random articles, fails and blogs.

This article caught my eye: Sixteen interesting facts you did not know about kissing

These being the most interesting :p

1. An act of kissing puts 29 facial muscles in motion. In other words, kissing can be used as an effective exercise to prevent the development of wrinkles.

13. Kissing can help women relax and ease the effects of stress.  

15. A kiss that lasts one minute can relieve your body of 26 calories.

The above are a few more reasons why I should ask for more :p


Brace yourself Sayang...

Love,
Linzy

In the absence of words, the loudness of gestures and expression is amplified almost deafeningly. And often, the crease of a brow, the furrow of a frown and the quirk of the lips could say a million more things than an exchange of words ever could.

If there is one thing that could make me love a movie or series or love it more, other than an engaging plot, is when they find it to emphasize and/or punctuate a scene with the right degree of facial expressions.

Another reason as to why Joss' creations have such a hold on me is that he takes the time to focus on the characters face and gestures, and it makes a scene that more powerful in my eyes. I mean, just look at Hush. No, I did not started liking this aspect in movies/series because of Joss; I liked him more because he fed my need for not just plot and words, but the most natural reaction a person has before words take over.

In BtVS, Joss has many a time moved me to tears by scenes that has simply been wordless, but so strong. Or it can be an exchange between two people without a word being uttered, but the eyes communicate so much.

So below are my favourites, in no particular order.

1. Wild at Heart, Season 4
   
   Easily one of the saddest episodes of the lot, WaH saw Oz "cheating" on Willow with Veruca, and him deciding to leave Willow to find himself and hopefully rein in the wolf inside. The last few minutes of the episode, when Oz walks out of the room and out of Willow's life and into his van, there is that shot of him behind the wheel and the run of emotions on his face. The play of emotions that ranged from determination, sadness, regret and just being torn was too heartbreaking to bear. Not a word uttered, just his emotions fighting one another for dominance. And determination wins over, and he drives away.
    
2. Becoming 2, Season 2
   
   Like WaH, Becoming 2 had Angel leaving Buffy, but now by his choice, but at her realization that she has no other option but to sacrifice him for the rest of the world. And her expression one too painful to watch. As he held her, oblivious to what's happening, we see her face changing from happiness and gladness, then to realization, to horror, to sadness and to heartbreak. In those brief moments she had Angel back, she had to push away happiness to make way for conscience and the knowledge that the world she was entrusted to protect could only survive if she killed the person she loved. And in those few moments she had to make a decision that had no options. At the last moment, we see her steel herself, stabs him, then watch her breakdown. I never fail to be moved to tears.
   
   
3. Fool for Love, Season 5
   
   
   
   
   One of my favourite episodes, as it chronicles Spike's history, and how he became the man, or should I say vampire, he currently is. At the very last scene before the episodes ends, we see Buffy sitting on the porch in the backyard, crying after finding out that her mother is sick. Spike, who was determined to finish Buffy off once and for all, came charging to end her with a blow from a shotgun. But he stopped as he saw the distraught Slayer, with tear-streaked cheeks in all vulnerability. We see him soften, goes to sit next to her, pats her reassuringly (if not a bit awkwardly) on her shoulder and volunteers his company, without saying a single word. On her face we see a sort of gratefulness, as the two natural enemies sit side by side; worlds apart but sharing the same space to help the other cry. (Sometimes when you need to cry, all you really need is someone to hold you and not say anything.)
   
   
4. The Body, Season 5
   This one needs no explanation. What words can you possibly utter when your mother dies?
   
   
5. Hell's Bells, Season 6
   
   The part when Xander cannot put into words why he cannot marry Anya, and Anya's face just crumples and she pulls her hand away from his hold, and it drops to her side, dejected and rejected. Her face when she walks down the aisle alone puts a lump in my throat, unable to look at her as she feels all the dreams she had seeping away from her. She didn't need to cry, it was all there on her face.
   
   
6. Helpless, Season 3
   
   
   
   This episode is when Buffy had to go through a centuries-old test that every Slayer is put through by the Watcher's Council when and if she turns 16. It is a sadistic and draconian test that hardly serves much of a purpose other than the Watcher's (metaphorically representing the sexist patriarchs) exerting their power over the Slayers. Giles, who has grown to love Buffy as a daughter and not merely his charge and job, had no choice but to put her through this test, which included having him to inject her with doses that would incapacitate her. Realizing the mistake he was making, he told her about this test (Slayers aren't supposed to know), but by then, the damage was done. Buffy felt betrayed, and flinched from him. But in a different moment later, when all is forgiven, there is the tender moment between them as he tends to her wounds, in all the silence he begs for her forgiveness, and he gets it, as she lets him clean her cuts.
   
   
7. Grave, Season 6
   
   
   
   
   A broken Willow gone dark because of Tara's death is filled with so much pain that she just wants to end the world and all its suffering. She conjures everything in her power to bring down the world that is so full of hate and pain so that no one has to feel anymore. Then comes Xander, who tells her "You've been my best friend my whole life...world's gonna end, where else would I wanna be", and then holds her while she comes back down to earth. His simple gesture spoke a thousand words and communicated all the love he had for his dearest friend, whom in all her scorn and anger, was merely a girl who lost the love of her life and didn't know how to grieve.

To illustrate these scenes I've chosen the art of Anne from Obsesssion of the Moment, my favourite wallpaper artist whose art make up most of my collection (I am an avid wallpaper collector). Click on the thumbnails to have a closer look at these scenes.

Truthfully, there are many more scenes that I can think of, just not right now. And with Season 8 in comic form, there are so many more that should be listed down but I cannot. Unless I scan them pages, of course. So I'll leave you with these few for now.

And as always, Joss is boss :p

JWIMMN,
Linzy

Disclaimer: All works are from Obsession of the Moment.

There is this street in the town of Seremban which, on weekends, is closed off to make way for the street walk. This is when people come to open little roadside shops where they sell knick-knacks, curios, old magazines and books, and a myriad of other things. You never know what you will find. There is always something that would catch your eye.

Just being there gives a whole new meaning to another person's trash is another person's treasure.


I am quite the thrifter. I suppose I get it from my dad. I love going to junkshops and shops where they sell used stuff for a fraction of the original price. And with each junk comes so many possibilities. Like the retro heart-shaped sunglasses that will soon be on my Vintage shop. Or out-of-date handbags they wanna shove off, that is now also a vintage collection of mine.

But I think one of the things I like best about going to the street walk is the book stall. There, all the books are strewn in boxes and all over the road unceremoniously. I'm not kidding, the books are just dumped there like so much trash. And you, the potential buyer, would need to dive in and do a little spelunking to look for a book you might  like. But it's not that hard. You can find a good one in every five books you pick up. By the time you are at the end of your tether, you'd have a stack of 20 books at least. But the most wonderful part is that, the books are mostly RM3-RM5 each :)) The last time I went, I forked out RM33, for about 11 books. What a steal!

On the last trip, one of the books I picked up was the book above, Inside the Kingdom by Carmen bin Ladin. I got it for RM3 by the way. And I read it about a week back. This wouldn't be the first time I would have read books -- fictional or non-fictional -- that describe the life and status of women in Islamic countries.  I've read Soheir Khashoggi's Mirage and Nadia's Song, Fauziya Kassindja's Do They Hear You When You Cry, Betty Mamoody's Not Without My Daughter and a few other titles I do not remember right now. Some of these books are about women who grew up in that environment and wanted to get out. And some of them are books on women who were brought into that life via marriage etc. So I am no stranger to these books and stories.

This book by Osama's sister-in-law is quite the interesting read. While it was not really that thick to be really immersed in it and it didn't take that long to read, it was so engaging that I kept turning the pages to know more and more. Although, at the end, it didn't really leave me with much to think about.

Let me clear a few things first about the book: If you're looking to read a first-hand experience on living with Osama bin Laden, then this is not the book for you. If you're looking to read about women being terribly mistreated then this is not it either. It merely is a story of a woman who fell in love, got married, followed her husband to his home country, and saw a way of life that she did not agree with.

But of course, I am not living in a Islamic country where women are made to leave a cloistered life. Nor am I an European woman. Perhaps it's not my place to say how one should think. But this book was written for the masses to read, and so a reader will form opinions, it's a given. So my opinion on this book is based on what I think as a person by just reading this account and not judging any sides.

Carmen, the woman who married Osama's elder brother, tells what she witnessed in the Laden household. She saw oppression, injustice, fanaticism and/or extremism, backwardness and a lack of education. They, the women of Saudi Arabia, saw responsibility, a show of faith, an obligation and honour. Who really is the one missing out?

For me, after reading many books such as these, I have both a sense of pity as well as a sense of respect for women who live their lives shielded from the eyes of any other. I say pity, for as a woman who is (almost) free to do as she pleases, I cannot imagine being forbidden to do the things I love. For example, read, listen to music, pursue knowledge.. These things that people take for granted are things that these women are forbidden from enjoying. But then again, if they were born into that life, then they might not miss it to begin with, since they would have never known such things. But other than that, I pity them knowing that they (might not) have the freedom of choice, the freedom of opinion and speech and the freedom of knowledge. But I also say I have a sense of respect for them because, for the love of their religion, they are ready to forsake their earthly pleasures. Although their extreme thoughts on Islam are not the same as mine, and their practice of that belief is not in line with what I think should be, I admire their will and dedication.

And the author? Well, I cannot help but think that she is too judgmental of others. I don't blame her for not being able to accept the culture, she is after all from a totally different background. But she didn't seem to make an effort to acclimatize herself and seemingly spent a lot of time complaining. Not that I don't agree with her, as a number of her opinions did ring true with what I thought, but for the most part, she did act like a princess who is too used to getting her way all the time; and would go as far as being disrespectful to another's culture to get what she wants.

Compared to the other books I have read, she got it easy. The Laden family is filthy rich, and could afford her all the luxuries she could ever want (albeit in limited supply or choice). She was not physically abused in any way. She got to travel back to Europe several times a year and also contact her friends in the States and from Switzerland. She had it all, just not in the right place.

I, of course, do not know how it feels. I suppose feeling homesick and lonely and far from everything you know plays a large role in all of that, too. So, who is the wrong party, really? Hard to say, since everyone wants to be right, and everybody would have a plausible answer. So unless every race, nation, continent and basically everyone on earth unites and live under one, absolute set of rules, there will always be a difference in ideas.

And Osama? Well, he hardly gets that much of mention in this book. He is often mentioned from glimpses of him, or brief run-ins with him; but besides that, nothing much. Here is a story of a woman who, in a place foreign to her, discovers herself and makes every effort to retain what she almost lost.

I can't say I liked the book. I can't say I hated it either. It was an entertaining read, that is all, for me. Substance-wise, it left a lot to be desired. Content-wise, it was engaging enough. It just didn't jive with me. But from reading this, I do have somewhat of a better appreciation of what I've got. It's not much, but it's everything to me. And I am content.

Love,
Lin

I have no words for the burning of the church in KL. It left me speechless. I cannot find the words to say anything. I feel like bowing my head and fading into the background. I am, outwardly,  the same as what those barbarians are. I am Malay. Pure, as far back as I can tell. And I am Muslim.

Of course, those savages are no Muslims.

But in my multi-raced company, where Malays are a minority, I feel all eyes on me. And I am ashamed. Ashamed that by identity, I could easily be identified as being like them. Like savages. Like ignorant, stupid, and intolerant bastards.

Here is what I think, based on what I learned, particularly from a wonderful lecturer whom I admire, Dr Fadzilah, who taught me Islamic Aqidah in IIUM (I am currently looking for my old notes to make sure I'm saying the right things):

• Allah is not the word for the Almighty Creator. No name could contain Him. But 'Allah' is the closest word to encompass Him (I want to revoke this statement, cos I think I got the facts wrong, but in any case, what I'm saying is that, in a way, cos I don't know how else to put it, what's in a name?).
  
• I don't know what to think about the issue on the name Christians would like to use to address God, but in whatever way, God is still God. What differentiates religions is that how we practice our belief and how we believe in the concept of God. But what makes us the same is the strife towards good and peace. So if we can't reconcile the dissimilarities in belief, at least unite on the want for peace.
• We all think we are right. We all want to be right. We will always feel we are right. So therefore we all want to be superior to the other. But it doesn't mean we are. Nothing gives us the right to force someone else to take what we believe in. For example, me as a person, I want to know something before I believe in it. I don't want to be forced without knowing what I'm doing means. Otherwise, where will appreciation come from?
• Everywhere I am reading "...a row over the use of the word "Allah" for the Christian God", or "Other religions Gods cannot share the name..." etc. Don't they know that to say "their God" or "other gods" or "their religion's god" etc is a form of monolatry? It is as though they are saying that there are many gods, and each religion has their own god. It is just up to us which one we want to worship. This needs to be corrected. It may be an honest mistake in semantics, but it does connote the wrong idea. 

I do not know what to think anymore. Flashes of scenes from "Green is the Colour" is coming back to me. Please God, let these people's minds be open.

Ashamed and afraid,
Hazlin

One of the first things I did right after I swung my legs to the side of the bed, planted them on the floor, and got up to walk, was to turn on my laptop and checked my e-mails. Yes, I'm that far gone and that deep in the technology quicksand. But hey, when you think about it, I live in Cyberjaya and it promotes all sorts of cyber-ness--even if it is not as cyber-y as it sounds--and in spite of that, is disconnected from the outside world. So yeah, being where I am I should be living my life ITly and also because the internet is my saving grace to ensure I don't spiral into a black hole of loneliness.

Anyway, I digress, so back to my story. On top of my unread mail was my daily Whedon.info digest, with consists of anything and everything recent about and connected to the Whedonverse which is condensed into clickable links. The links itself are the headlines, so you can click on them headlines to be directed to the article itself and read on.

I stopped dead when I saw
""Buffy The Vampire Slayer" Movie Remake - It’s more than a rumor".

I clicked. And I read on.

My reaction?

Hell, NO.

A Whedonverse without the man, Whedon, himself?

Hell, NO.

There is no room for discussion. No room for reasoning. No room for debate.

I'd rather have no BtVS than have no Whedon. I know that the 'verse that Joss had painstakingly created would be shattered to bits. We've seen it done before in the first movie. And it sure as hell ain't surprising if it happens again.

I mean, the movies now are full of remakes. And I've seen many of my childhood favourites destroyed one by one. My memories now marred by some so-called new take or angle of a once popular show. Their "revolutionary" ideas on how it can be made 'contemporary' ruining the very essence of the show. I've seen it with Alvin and the Chipmunks, Ninja Turtles, Transformers etc. And then there was Indiana Jones 4 and Terminator 3. And how bout them stories like Dragonball and Streetfighter? I'm not a fan, but even I know those two were terribly butchered.

So a BtVS remake but in a different timeline so to not touch the world Joss created?

Hell, NO.

The beauty of the Whedonverse is that Joss builds the legends and myths and history around his stories tightly. So one pull at a strand can unravel this carefully woven, complex world. So it should not be touched. Not unless Joss intervenes. Others may think differently, but in my opinion, Joss is canon. What he thinks out will flow into the myth. It's his myth, after all. And someone else attempting to have a shot at this myth without having Joss be a part of it is murder to that myth. A different timeline might seem to be a way to go to tell the story of Slayers from another angle so to avoid probable contradictions, but I think this is not bloody likely to be the case.

The way I see it, seeing from how there are so many remakes made and being made, alot of people are wanting to jump onto this lucrative bandwagon. All you've gotta do is choose one of the many classics, unearth them, and make them "new" again to gain new fans and interest. And with Whedonites still going strong, there seems to be a market for a new BtVS movie. But a new BtVS movie by someone other than Whedon and his team (think Espenson, Noxon, Minear, Greenwalt, Goddard, DeKnight, Fury and Petrie) and a different timeline? Hell, no. Them bloody "revolutionaries" will rake in the cash and live happily every after, while the stories lie in the dust, doomed to forever be another classic that shoulda stayed buried because they're too cheesy or lame. No young'uns, it's not that. You see, they shoulda been handled the way they should be handled: with care. Their original creators went through much pain making them the way they are; but then some person comes up and thinks they know better cos they're young, and hip and now; but ends up rattling the foundation of the story. And thus, the story slumps in a heap and is forgotten. Never to be revisited again, because everyone will now remember it as a flop. And not for the greatness it once posessed.

So, please, Joss, don't let this happen.

I can see no good coming from this unless you step in.

This is the time for your divine intervention, Joss Whedon.

JWIMMN,
Linzy

My little blogshopaholic trio here in WKESP is a bunch of laughriots. They are frickin' hilarious. The make me feel like I am dealing in some illegal drug smuggling :p

My dress, by the way, is from Cupclothes, one of the best blogshop that carries a myriad of vintage clothing. What makes their collection so special is that they photograph the dresses simply, but attractively and provide a wide range of sizes and designs. So for people like me, I have more to choose from. And to top it off, their seller(s), namely Sakinah, are prompt and friendly, which makes the buying experience from them all the better. She responds by sms quickly, is very helpful and offers to measure to make sure the clothes would fit you; and is very honest when it doesn't. Her friendly smss make you want to buy more even if you don't need to. So Cupclothes is definitely a recommended shop for your vintage clothing needs. Variety, quality, and friendliness are the keywords here :)

I love my blue, flowery vintage dress. It's nice and comfortable, and just the right kinda colour. A perfect addition to my revamped wardrobe; and it would be perfect to wear to work.

Hehehe...the wonders, dangers and adventures of blogshopping *sigh*

Love,
Hazlin

My malasness reigns true nowadays. Not entirely, but it has gotten me very very sluggish to actually type out an entry on a daily basis. Usually I find myself looking forward to writing something new; lately though, not so much. This can either be attributed to a) my working as a sub editor fills up my quota for words read and/or typed on the monitor screen, b) my mornings, when I usually take the time to write, are now when I switch on the pc to read e-mails from various editors and get to work, or c) I just can't be bothered, especially after a long day or when I happen to go out after work, I don't have any effort left to sit and type.

Whatever the reason, I'm gonna summarise the past few in bullets. Very professional, that way. Yeah right, more like, very malas, that way.

• I am still feeling like a selfish bitch, eventhough a part of me feels like it is called for, for being short tempered with my parents. The weekend actually was a good one, but it went sour just before I came back. I feel like I could have done something different, but I know myself and how at times I run on short, and I get temperamental easily; and therefore do not think before I act. I am menyesaling sangat-sangat; but am also degil. But an apology is due; from me, that is.
  
• Last Friday, I was sexually harassed verbally and by several up-and-down looks by a cab driver. Since I wasn't able to carpool that day, I took the cab but didn't think anything of it when I found the back door locked. So I climbed into the passenger seat instead, but remembered to keep a distance and not be so comfortably close to the cabbie. He just engaged in the usual friendly cabbie chatter, which I politely obliged to. I don't know how the conversation went as I mechanically went through the usual Oh-Cyberjaya-is-an-ok-place-but-little to-do-and-see routine, but it suddenly steered to a part where the cabbie commented in Malay, in a very sleazy manner, that I had a nice body; to which he promptly gave me a slow once over, or make that twice or quadruple. I was afraid that he was gonna put his hand on my thigh or something; and I knew if he did I'd elbow him and we'd be roadkill. I was squirming to get out and thankfully the short drive brought me to my destination. I made sure he stopped at a different block, paid and got out. He went on to say that hopefully we meet again, and to look for his cab again. I just closed the door and half ran. I shoulda taken his plate number down, but I just was too scared to be anywhere in his sight any more. He made my skin crawl. That's the last time I'd take a cab for the timebeing.
• I accidentallly went grocery shopping last night with Juliana. She was the one who wanted groceries, and I just went along for the ride cos I didn't wanna trouble her by sending me back first. Plus, I can teman her. Besides, I did need a bottle of shampoo and conditioner. So I went and bought the things I need. But coming across the cooking oil aisle at Carrefour, we spotted a particular brand of olive oil that was very affordable. It inspired me to get to packing myself home cooked meals for lunch, as I was planning to do earlier when I just started work. So I bought the extra virgin olive oil, some pasta, garlic, some vegetables and shall attempt to cook myself simple pasta dishes. Which, by the way, is pretty ok, if I say so myself. Just made myself pasta with olive oil, crushed garlic, pepper and cuts of cheese and it's filling but light. The olive oil made it really tasty Made some for tomorrow as well.
• Which brings me to my next point; how does one know that an olive is extra virgin? I mean, if it's already virgin, can it be any more virgin than that? This is a rhethorical question, by the way. Don't get smart on me and answer this...I know there are very gatal hands out there, just itching to give me some smart alec answer :P
  
• Oh, guys should not wear overalls. Or also known as playsuits. It's a no-no. Period. I mean, I don't even see 'em plumbers/repairmen/labourers wearing them anymore. And it is so 80s/90s. That guy I saw in Alamanda with his blue jeans overalls and classic white tee underneath is like a sudden blast from a should-not-be-repeated past. The look is so not flattering, dude.
• I was doing my normal nightly blogshopping and was in the mood for pre-owned stuff rather than looking at them brand new ones. Sometimes you get really good bargains on things that some people buy to wear once for an occasion or they buy and find that they don't fit, or don't like it no more... So I love browsing through what they call 'Preloved Shops'. One shop had everything. She was selling off the normal, like blouses, dresses, tees, skirts and the like, and she also had jewellery and even some old books and magazines. And in the midst of all that, she was selling a dildo. Yes, a dildo. Just a solitary one. Not a stock that she has and wants to sell, but just the one. In a pre-owned items shop. WTF? What? She used it on herself and decided it didn't give her the jollies and now she's looking for a new owner for it??! Hell no. What is the woman thinking? Total ewwwww-ness ok?
• Commenting on Yanna's entry on Tori's up and coming album Abnormally Attracted to Sin got me psyched and I looked her up on Wiki just to read the latest scoop. It's been so long since I've caught up with the music world that I didn't know that some people collaborated with Tori had published a comic book interpretation of some of her songs last year. It's effing beautiful; and I am itching to get it. It retails for about RM255 in Kinokuniya, and it's hardcover (Sarah checked it out for me) and I am so getting my hands on it. It's called Comic Book Tattoo and the illustrations on the cover is beautiful...and eventhough I don't know how it looks like inside, the idea of interpreting Tori's songs, in pictures and words and stories at that, is definitely something to own. Her lyrics tell and million and one stories, and I want to read/see some of them.
• I'm finding that I am loving my team more and more. They are friendly, helpful and very nice bunch of people and I feel glad and honoured to be working for and with them. Team Australia B - Tax & Accounting rocks! :P Oh, and the ayam susu we had for our team lunch this afternoon was yummy!
  
• My dad sold off my blue Kenari, by the way. Without consulting anyone. Tau-tau he told me it's gone. Pastu menyesal, but consoled himself that a brand new one is better. Which, he too, bought without consulting anyone. So now I am bound to own a silver Viva, when I honestly woulda preferred the the Kenari cos I will feel much better with a second hand one. At least I won't feel so pressured...but hey, beggars can't be choosers.
• Again, I am missing my friends... I need that human connection again with people I know and love. It's been way long since we had a good lepak. Next next weekend, hopefully.
  
• Ultimately, I abso-effing-lutely can't wait for this weekend. I am so giddy that I can hardly focus at work. Macam terlebih gula. And I couldn't stop smiling. And blushing. And giggling. Cos I'll be seeing my Sayang this weekend, after not seeing him for about 7-8 weeks now. My heart is fluttery and I have a skip to my stride. I feel like I have a smile plastered on me and I can't shake it off, even though I know I look scary. Because I am honest to God happy, and it's been a while. And I cannot wait to get his brand of comfort again, after my past weeks being so...painful. Looking forward to the weekend, Sayang. Hopefully all goes smooth.

Anyway, my quickie became a not-so quickie. But at least it got alot of things off my chest. Phew!

Love,
Linzy

As far as I am concerned, this guy is the star :) Regrets? The cast and crew

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