I'm sick of taking shortcuts and doing last minute works and handing in something I'm ashamed of.

It's time to reacquaint myself with the old nerd.

and woe be to those who try and sway me from this path of enlightenment. HAHA!

I'm thinking of moving.

I have about 4 other blogs, I realise, all left decrepit and you can practically hear crickets chirping and feel the green mould staring at you.

But this blog has history, and honestly, I'm more sentimental than I care to admit. I keep old letters my friends gave me 7 years ago. And recently, I took them out and really felt like throwing them out but you never know when you might want to see them again.

My old diaries still exist in my bookshelf. I read through them and feel my cheeks burning in embarrassment because everything seems more foolish in retrospect.

And this blog... this blog was meant to be a private space where I share my joys and pains with my nearest and dearest but somehow, it got invaded and then, I cannot be bothered anymore.

As tas man likes to constantly remind me "SO WHAT?"

"Isn't it good that people know how you think and feel?" he would say. And in the next sentence, try to convince me to put up adsense or whatever to earn money from this blog.

It's just weird, because, I thought this was where I could be truly selfish and only talk about myself. But knowing that there are people reading makes me self-censor, even when I try not to be affected.

I've been thinking a lot about this lately..

Last night, I stumbled upon an interesting site by a young fashion designer, whose name completely escapes me right now. She's an advocate of the hijab (headscarf) and modest but tres chic clothing. She turns the season's runway trends into hijab-friendly outfits and her designs look really well-made and her website was also rather well-presented.

Oh. Right. Such a thing called history.

Here's the url, A i n, I think you'll love her, or maybe you've already heard of her.

Also, it was linked to some forum site and there was a discussion about the hijab and why muslimahs wear or don't wear them. To be honest, I think it's an "up to you" thing, like, between you and god.

But I guess nobody really totally understands and nobody (with the exception of tas man) is brave enough to ask me straight out why I put it on.

When I first put it on, it was probably 30% thanks to my mother's insistence and 70% because I felt that it was time. What time, exactly, I don't know but it just felt like .. you know, acknowledging your relationship status on FB? It matters next to nothing to the both of you if you're secure enough in your relationship, but it's just a willingness to tell it to the whole world.

You already love God, so it's just, like, a next step in the relationship.

I didn't understand the logic behind it at first, and yes, I was very confused because in the world over, it's a symbol of oppression and backwardness but I studied further into the matter, I realised how much it made sense now. And a large part of it is about respecting yourself enough to know that you are too precious for just anyone to touch and see. But anyway.. that's not the point here.

I guess, maybe people who don't put it on are just waiting for the relationship to be secure enough before taking the commitment one step further?

There was a lady who commented that from her experiences, women who don't put it on have not had enough of showing off their beauty and are afraid that covering up means covering up their beauty. This might be true in some cases.

But mostly, many commented that it was the fear of judgment. They were afraid that people were gonna think of them differently or that they would be pressured to behave a certain way. Or that they would be picked on and discriminated.

Maybe I can't understand because Singapore's a free country (relatively, anyway). Perhaps in U S of A people are different?

But underneath it all, I think, what's important is that your heart is sincere. Put it on or not, your choice.

H said to me once that just because I wear the hijab, it doesn't mean I'm a better muslim.

Well, I never claimed to be, but it does help strengthen the faith. It requires a certain level of faith and commitment to put an extra layer of cloth on your head when it's scorching hot outside. Why else if not for God?

DannyTan takes on the listerine challenge!

Ohyeah, don't forget to check out j o 's awesome blogposts! :D

Not sure if the link below works but if it doesn't, here it is:

And vote for her here:

I went, determined to relax and forget about the daily pressures of life and so did they.

I love these sorts of vacations: a plain empty itinerary, enough time to do nothing and stare blankly at bear documentaries on noisy tvs, and peppered with a healthy dose of unloading and girl talk.

I hoped roomie came back feeling refreshed by the amount of sleep she got.

(:

Ca m'embête trop quand quelqu'un pense qu'il sait tout mais en realite, il sait rien.

I guess political science would have sounded nicer as compared to design. But what does it matter, seriously, it's the same brain inside, only applied differently.

I think I handled this poorly.

Damnit. Professionalism, please!

In south france, peaches are apparently their specialty and they gave peaches for every meal and I grew to love the soft velvety texture that rubs against your lips and tongue when you bite into a peach... and the sweet, sugary juices that burst into your mouth and dribble down your chin.

The perfect combination of sweet and sour and a slight pinch of acidic flavour jolts the tongue into full awareness. I feel awake everytime I eat an acidic peach.

Maybe life just needs more acidic peaches.

Or maybe, I just need to learn not to trust.

I was shocked when I saw this blog listed under J's bookmarks!

I turned to glare at Tas man but he insisted it wasn't him. So, I sadly announce that I shall be removing my archives.

I leave no doubt in my mind that should Tas man really want to, he would still be able to access them, but at least, the general not-so-kaypoh public wouldn't be able to dig into my checkered past.

Just when L S was picking up the pace and was starting to wiggle the baton a little bit more than his standard 10cm, the hairy spider in my throat started to wiggle too!

I tried to gulp water down,

and then I tried to move my tongue around (omg, it got worse!),

and then I tried to clench my teeth and ignore the tickle.

I ended up bursting in a long bout of coughs and spraying the woman in front with germified saliva! She turned to me in disgust, took out a tissue and wiped her arm.

And then I decided, awfukkit, I'll just do my ahpek cough and ignore the belligerent stare of the boy with the smelly slipper next to me.

Not surprisingly, my throat calmed down during Tchaikovsky's 1812. I still cannot believe s s o finally attempted THE overture of all overtures! I had goosebumps from the moment the choir started! The canons were adorable, they were substituted with an old man hitting a wooden box with a giant mallot! Church bells became tubular bells.

I felt that the musical direction was a bit rushed though. I mean, compared to the recordings I've heard so far. Ohwell, every orchestra's bound to play it differently.

I kind of regret not spending more money to buy stall seats. The last twenty minutes would have been more than worth it.

Belle, we'll buy stall seats for Krysztof's okay?

(:

What the hell am I doing?

If I really don't care, why does it hurt?

This blog has been around for years. I know people who change their sites to mark new phases in their lives, to close the old chapters and start new ones and I think I'm too in love with my past to totally delete it. As embarassing and disgusting as it may seem, and no matter how I hate it when Tas man ask me for explanations regarding old posts, I still can't bear to delete my archives.

Have an Eid Mubarak for those of you who don't happen to be sick these few days.

I had a difficult time thinking, "how the hell do you wish non-malay muslims a happy hari raya?" Because hari raya is a malay concept while the rest of the muslim world call it a different name. Hahah. Yes. I know. the answer was in my face. In fact, in my facebook.

This is what my computer desktop looks like in the midst of a project.

I felt like shit yesterday but still dragged my ass to school, where I got chased home, and then to work, where I inadvertently passed the virus to the dear kids.

Their test results came back and I feel like I can retire in peace because FINALLY, I see results! Not as fantastic as I hoped but good improvement, nevertheless.

I feel like I can afford to go to Genting now.

Classmates were such dears yesterday. And thank you Tas man for the pills and I'm sorry you had to get infected.