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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.

Thursday, October 2, 2003

08:59 p.m. Kuala Lumpur Standard Time

Reviewing Writing

Once upon a time, in my earlier youth (since I'm still in my youth), I fancied turning myself into an author. Well, I finally realized that I don't have the discipline to churn out anything more than ten paragraphs a day, so I gave that idea up.

I did join the Blog Review Blog, and have decided to try reviewing books, instead of writing them. Feel free to read my first attempt.

My problem with reviewing anything is that I have this slight difficulty seeing bad things. I'm the type who sees most things as half full, rather than half empty.

So I'm not sure how well a reviewer I'll make. I'd probably end up sounding like a public relations writer, instead.... Hopefully, as I keep practising, things will improve.

Then again, I could just pick up writing books again.

Be honest.
Link to the start of entry: #20031002

Wednesday, October 1, 2003

08:47 p.m. Kuala Lumpur Standard Time

Abuse or Play?

My nephews have a lot of toys. Their parents, both sets of grandparents, and various uncles and aunts keep buying them toys. Spider-Man, Ultra-Man, teddy bears, swords, guns, cars, aeroplanes and god knows what else.

Most of their toys don't last very long. The boys break them or lose interest in the toys quite quickly. I don't see the point in buying all these expensive toys when all a kid needs to play with is their imagination.

Sofas are mountains, cardboard boxes are caves, pots are helmets, brooms are magic swords and Daddy's golf clubs are microphone stands.

You didn't read that last statement. I was a good girl and never ever played with Daddy's golf clubs.

And it was Adik who hit my forehead with the damned club.

And it's ultimate proof that children don't need toys, when you realize that at five years old, I strangled my little sister with my bare hands. Adik got twenty sen to console her, which she shared with me.

Be honest.
Link to the start of entry: #20031001

Tuesday, September 30, 2003

07:17 p.m. Kuala Lumpur Standard Time

"Much Ado about Nothing"

The things I have to do this week, for college.
  1. Re-study a chapter of each subject every day.
  2. Get the damned Marketing Research questionnaire finalized and approved by Monday.
  3. Pester my Marketing Communication groupmates to meet.
  4. Pester the Shifty Marketing Research groupmate for his project work.
  5. Use the Voices of Doom in my head to scare me into studying.

Did I forget anything else? Why do I always feel like I've forgotten something?

Be honest.
Link to the start of entry: #20030930

Monday, September 29, 2003

09:16 p.m. Kuala Lumpur Standard Time

High on Heels

I wore my four-inch heels today for the first time since I hurt my ankle.

I am sad to report that my skill in heels is a little shaky. I am no longer as adept as I was.

Fear not. I will keep practising, and I will gain back all the skill I lost.

I felt so happy to wear heels again. One's walk in heels is so different from one's walk in flats. I hate flats. I really do. You cannot understand how different a woman can be simply by wearing different shoes.

Flats are practical and sensible. You can jump over huge holes and stomp around like a barbarian, and you don't pay attention to where you stand. They're useful when you need to run away like a rabbit.

High heels are instruments of delicacy and precision. They remind you to always be aware of where and how you stand. They force you to walk carefully and with precision. They demand that you take the time to think about your next step. They give you presence and power. You cannot run with heels. You have to stand tall and straight.

While flats are a help, heels are a challenge. Some feminists may say that heels were invented to make women more helpless and useless, I've always felt more helpless and useless in flats. Flats are like a handicap, something you only wear when you're not good enough to face the challenge of heels.

Yes, I know, I'm really strange and mad. Ignore the girl who looks forward to being an old lady in a wheelchair, wearing high heels.

Be honest.
Link to the start of entry: #20030929a

Monday, September 29, 2003

02:47 a.m. Kuala Lumpur Standard Time

Names don't hurt

Well, if you search this site, HANI, it says, is a masculine name, meaning "happy."

Henceforth, to be considered female, I'd have to call myself "Haniyya."

Tariq means "he who pounds at the door," which I think does describe my beloved, on occasion.

Can anyone guess when, exactly?

Be honest.
Link to the start of entry: #20030929

Sunday, September 28, 2003

01:54 a.m. Kuala Lumpur Standard Time

Pretend you're not reading this

Truth be told, I'm actually doing relatively okay with my subjects. I study a little bit every day. I do the assignments in the unit outline. I even show up for classes more often than before.

Yes, I'm panicky. I'm miserable. But I always get miserable in the middle of the semester. This is the point where I stay in bed for weeks, don't talk to my groupmates and just fail the entire semester. But the point is that I'm not doing all the above.

Okay, yes, I stay in bed, but I study while I'm in bed. Okay, I'm not as efficient as I could be with my assignments, but I'm actually communicating with my groupmates on a weekly basis. And I'm actually doing things, instead of just giving up.

So I have these moments where I stare at the textbook and have this urge to throw it out the window, screaming at myself about how stupid and worthless I am. But I'm not giving in to my negative thoughts. I fight them everyday and I think I'm doing at least enough to pass.

I am worried about next semester, though. Taking four subjects is a lot more work than three subjects. With just three subjects, I feel like I'm trying to stand my ground against a horde of stampeding mammals. I think four subjects would be like trying to stand straight while dinosaurs stampede!

I'll need more reinforcement and help next semester than I'm getting this semester. Of course, the problem is that I can't bear to ask for help.

Then again, I need to figure out what kind of help I need.

Someone to sit with me and listen to me beat myself up mentally, and counter my negative words with more positive statements. Someone to help me get past all the emotional turmoil in my head to actually think logically so I can write my essays and study.

Oh hell, who knows what I need or want. I certainly don't.

Be honest.
Link to the start of entry: #20030928

Friday, September 26, 2003

03:36 p.m. Kuala Lumpur Standard Time

No Rest for the Repetitive

Ozzy Osbourne - No Easy Way Out

It is Friday, and my mid-semester week's holiday has begun.

I don't feel like I'm on holiday.

I feel stressed and highly unhappy. I feel my confidence being chipped at, with all the pieces falling bit by bit to the ground.

It's mid-semester, and I don't know if I can make it to the end of the semester. This is only three subjects! How will I cope when I take up four subjects next semester?

I can't cope. This is bullshit. I'm so scared, and my fears are all stupid and unreasonable and make no sense whatsoever.

Why do I even bother typing out blog posts like this? I should just list all the old posts here. The same thing over and over and over again. I should be so bored by it that it should just stop happening.

But hey, there's just no easy way out, is there?

Be honest.
Link to the start of entry: #20030926