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HANI's Honey

Disclaimer - Everything on this website is done pretty much without thinking. Any offence or mental disturbance resulted in interacting with this website and its author is completely unintentional and sadly regretted.

Surgery successful, so I have returned!

Friday, February 28, 2003

06:35 p.m. Kuala Lumpur Standard Time

I will be forever beautiful

My beloved boyfriend had made the mistake of comparing my thighs to a dancer's thighs, and in trying to save himself from his girlfriend's tears, he cleverly pointed out something I hadn't realized he noticed. He's so clever sometimes.

Approximately, Tariq said that although I am by no means physically perfect, what is most attractive about me is that I behave as if those flaws "don't matter." I understood immediately what he was trying to say. I behave as if jiggly thighs are beautiful, stretch marks on my butt are mysterious, my paunch is womanly, and my thin hair is my style of choice. You tell me I'm beautiful, and I will agree with you. You point out that I'm fat/jiggly/bald, and I will laugh and thank you for the compliment.

I have always considered that confidence in my appearance as the most attractive thing about me. It's not the breasts, it's not the smile, it's not the clothes, it's not my outrageous words. It's in my attitude. I believe I am attractive, and when someone doesn't find me so, I assume there's something wrong with them. (Ask TJ. I've told her repeatedly that she lacks in taste for not returning my lust for her.)

It surprised me that Tariq noticed. Or at least, mentioned it. It's not something that most guys bother to praise about, or even notice. My eyes, my breasts, my smile, but no one but Tariq has ever bothered to actually describe what I have always considered my most attractive trait. My boyfriend can be so blur and unobservant sometimes, that it's amazing what he does pick up and notice.

He's a smart boy, and I'm glad he appreciates where my real beauty lies. My breasts will sag, my butt will change shapes, my thighs may tighten or jiggle further, and I'm sure I'll gain more stretch marks. I will always believe that I am beautiful, however. And if you don't think so, I pity you for not being able to appreciate my amazing beauty. Go get your eyes checked, people!

Be honest.
Link to the start of entry: #20030228

Thursday, February 27, 2003

07:47 p.m. Kuala Lumpur Standard Time

Slut or Saint

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Be honest.
Link to the start of entry: #20030227a

Thursday, February 27, 2003

06:11 p.m. Kuala Lumpur Standard Time

Too Lazy to be Honest

I try to be honest as possible, I do. Mostly, the only secrets I keep involve other people, and their insistence on keeping things secret, or revealing the truth would harm them in some way.

Unfortunately, there are only so many words I can say at any moment, and sometimes, though I don't lie, I don't speak the truth either. So many times, I look back at my past, and I wonder if I could have said something more than I did, that would be more revealing and would lead to less misunderstanding.

I wonder if some friends assume things about me, simply because I never told things outright. Since they also don't tell me their conclusions, I can't be truly sure if they know the truth, or have assumed something else altogether.

So many things cannot be clearly seen between two people, simply because they hesitate to speak.

Then again, sometimes, speaking the truth can make a bigger headache than just avoiding the issue. I only save difficult truths, for close friends, people whom I know will stay and work out the problems, and not curse me and proceed to pretend I no longer exist.

So I save myself from speaking painful truths to people I don't want to put the effort to. If you ask me a direct question, if it harms no one else other than you and me, I will answer. But if you don't bring it up, then I will not speak of it.

Unless of course, you're a close friend! Then beware! I will not hesitate to tell you when you're being an ass. I'll be kind, however, and reword it. I'll tell you that you're a relative to the donkey instead. Doesn't that sound better?

Be honest.
Link to the start of entry: #20030227

Wednesday, February 26, 2003

11:09 p.m. Kuala Lumpur Standard Time

Sleepy....

Walter Gross / Jack Lawrence - Tenderly

Sleepy. For the past few days, I've been sleeping relatively late, and waking up extremely early.

As Fabian has said, I am a nocturnal creature. This sleeping-early bit is something that I have never mastered. Not even close to mastering.

I am most annoyed by the necessity to sleep early. It is not rational. It is not normal to me. I do not like having only so few hours of night. I do not like so many hours of sun! The heat and the misery drain my brain.

Give me the breeze of night, and the madness of the moon, that inspire all the magic in me. Night, is when I feel most at ease.

Be honest.
Link to the start of entry: #20030226

Tuesday, February 25, 2003

10:36 p.m. Kuala Lumpur Standard Time

A.D.D. Application

Here's my problem. I get bored in lectures.

I get very bored in lectures. The lecturers talk to their students like the students are very very very stupid. Admittedly, most of them are.

The problem is that I get so bored, I'm tempted to liven up the lectures by interrupting the lecture with either inane comments, demands to move on from the topic, taking over the whole bloody lecture, or physically running around the lecture theater. That, or walk out, which was what I did today.

Well, today was just an introduction, so it wasn't important. Furthermore, it was a lecture of 150 students, so one person walking out was no biggie. I don't know how I'll handle tomorrow....

Be honest.
Link to the start of entry: #20030225

Monday, February 24, 2003

08:17 p.m. Kuala Lumpur Standard Time

32D breasts

Lately, quite a few people have been arriving to my blog by searching the web of 32D breasts. It amuses me. I wonder what they think when they read my blog and can't figure out exactly where my 32D breasts are.

I pray you, seeker of 32D breasts, read this blog entry, and see that I am in no way insulted, but amused by your interest in my thinness and big boobs.

You may think they are beautiful and lust-worthy, but to me, my boobs hurt when unsupported, and costly to support, since finding bras for them are nearly impossible. So here's my offer: e-mail me to discuss donating to HANIbra Fund, and once money has been transfered to me, I'll send you a picture of my "schnipples!"

Ask HANIfans. The schnipples picture drew the most amount of comments in the history of HANI's Honey. Welcome, all seekers of 32D breasts. I'm better than 32D. I'm 34DD.

Sometimes. I yo-yo. Makes it more irritating and frustrating. I really need a HANIbra Fund.

Be honest.
Link to the start of entry: #20030224

Sunday, February 23, 2003

11:39 p.m. Kuala Lumpur Standard Time

Beginning a New Semester

It is strange. For over a month, I was terrified, very worried and utterly nervous about going back to college. Yet it is the eve of the my first day of the semester, and I don't think I feel all that upset, really.

Either I'm denying my negative feelings, or I truly don't feel them anymore. I feel sleepy, mostly, and that mood I get into when I know I have tedious tasks I must complete that are neither all that interesting, nor all that dreaded. Like going to pay bills or buy food.

Could I have really relegated my education into that sphere of my life? Has my fears and passions for college been reduced to bill-payments and food-purchases? Daily, necessary tasks?

If so, I think that would be nice. I might actually accomplish something if I am not hindered by fears of failure or expectations of perfection. Alas, I doubt that this mood would last long. I have a feeling that my fear would rear up the minute I walk into my first class.

Just thinking of meeting up with the stupid, buggering teachers I had last semester rises all sorts of roiling feelings inside me. One positive thing I feel, this semester, is support. I'm hoping that my parents might possibly understand what kind of help I'll need this semester. I'm hoping that this semester, I won't have to try to do things on my own, just because I believe that no one is willing to try and understand how to help me.

Of course, this all mere hope, and it may not actually work out this way. Part of me thinks that this is all just a disaster waiting to happen. Then again, at least if disaster does happen, I know that at least, we all tried our best, and this time around, I tried something different.

Be honest.
Link to the start of entry: #20030223b

Sunday, February 23, 2003

05:18 p.m. Kuala Lumpur Standard Time

I'm lonely

I'm feeling lonely and isolated. My family's running around trying to fix the house and re-arrange the furniture that have arrived from New York.

My eyes are not allowed to tolerate dust, so I can't get near the New York furniture to help out. So I run around being useless, trying to see things that are still too blurry to be seen. I pester friends who are also too busy to be pestered.

So I am lonely and feeling unproductive and unappreciated. I'm almost looking forward to school tomorrow....

Be honest.
Link to the start of entry: #20030223a

Sunday, February 23, 2003

12:10 a.m. Kuala Lumpur Standard Time

Supergirl.... Me?

It is strange. I expected at least a little psychological disturbance from being without glasses, but I feel nothing lacking about it. I'm little annoyed by the blurriness, but otherwise, no negative effects.

Today, most of the family showed up to hang out at the house. It was a nice little family gathering. As usual, I didn't socialize much. I'm such a loner amidst my family.

It's strange how that is so, when outside, I'm like a bloody social butterfly. When I choose to, I can have a damned packed social calendar, with noon, night, evening and midnight (never mornings!) all occupied to the hilt with socializing. I don't just sit there and keep quiet, either.

When socializing with peers, I have a pretty good ability of keeping the conversation going, with interesting and often outrageous topics. I am rarely shy, and to most people I have a seemingly unshakeable confidence in myself. I also genuinely believe that people are nice and fascinating (with a few exceptions).

So what makes me a social butterfly among outsiders, and a stoned, dreamy kid among family? What is the difference? I guess it's like the girl with glasses and the girl with contacts. I don't feel a need to give my family a charismatic persona. They're all themselves such charismatic personae that I can just lie back and focus inward.

With my family, I know I always have tomorrow, next week, next month, and next year, to show off the charm, poise, intelligence and self-confidence that all of my family possess anyway. At home, I can just go put on my glasses and be Clark Kent. No need to extend the effort to be Superman.

Be honest.
Link to the start of entry: #20030223