Big applause.

This goes to all women out there who shares real stories of their lives for us to read.

You're an inspiration.

anak angkat

I have two stories.

When I was about 14, my friend and his brother hosted a small gathering at their house. We had known them for two years. They have a little since, about 5 or 6 years of age at that time.

A couple of my friends and I baby-talked to the girl, just the usual, "Tengah main apa tu?" etc.

I don't remember how exactly the conversation went, maybe one of us asked her, "Mak dekat mana?" because I remember the little girl said,

"Mak tak ada. Dah mati..."

We were shocked and looked at each other, what did she mean by her mother is dead, she was in the kitchen preparing food for us!

"Mak ada bawah tanah..." she explained. "Yang dekat dapur tu mak lagi satu...Mak betul dah mati..."

We figured out she must be the adopted child.

We never said anything to the two brothers because we think they wouldn't want us to know. If they did, we would have known about it because we were pretty close.

I was reminded to this incident because I just met that friend of mine for supper just now after three years of not seeing each other.







When we were about 15, there was a new boy in school. He was from Terengganu and we would giggle and tease him everytime his Terengganu accent was heard. To us at that time, the Terengganu accent sounded too foreign.

At first, we saw him going back from school in a Mercedez, we instantly thought this boy was somebody. Later, we noticed he came to school everyday with a popular senior, known for her wealthy family.

We asked him why, he said the senior was his cousin and he was living with them at the moment.

We believed him.
One day, he just stopped coming to school, after two or three months and the teacher said nothing except that he was now back in Terengganu.

He didn't say anything to us about his departure. It was all very sudden. We didn't ask his 'cousin' because she was a popular girl, everybody knew her but she didn't know us, how would we approach her to ask about the missing boy?

A few months later, during Raya holiday, a classmate went back to her kampung and visited her relatives in Terengganu. She saw a familiar face in the house near to her relative and recognized the boy.

The boy was dressed in a singlet and kain pelikat, looking very different from the smart-dressed boy we knew, the one who used to bring the latest gadgets to school. He was feeding an old woman.

My classmate asked her relatives about the boy and her relatives confirmed his name.

They said the old woman was the boy's grandmother and she was his legal guardian. Didn't know what happened to his parents. He was adopted by a wealthy family for a few months until his grandmother got sick.

I guess, he must have decided to stay behind with his nenek to take care of her.

What a small world.

He didn't have to lie. We wouldn't force him to belanja makan ais krim (just because he had more money than us) or bully/ tease him for being the kid from Terengganu if we knew.

we expected it

Before his wife (now ex) left him, she did a shopping spree using his credit card. She then asked for a divorce and he is now in debt, close to a hundred thousand of ringgit.
Now, he is asking money from his children.

News traveled fast and his other ex-wife, the first wife, the one he left to pursue that woman, is having the last laugh.

He is going to be 70 soon and he is all alone and broke. How sad...

Sometimes, I don't understand why a 'wise' man can fall for a wannabe woman. (she wants to befriend Datuk K's ex-wife, the wife of Sultan Pahang, etc but we all know, she will never belong to the club) I might understand if she was a pretty young thing, but...

She is from the East Coast and people from the East Coast have a reputation in the family.

This makes my life more difficult. It is already affecting me and I could feel it is going to be worse in the future. But who knows, someone could change their perception, eh?

Also, I tend to write two posts at a time...

Because I've written somewhere in this blog before, when the mood comes, I have so many things in my head, I just need to pour them out, before I forget them and become uninteresting.

I think I've stopped making friends. My latest friends are those from my first year in university.

Is this considered sad and pathetic?

This could be due to
- I think I have enough friends, I don't need more
- I have raised the criterias of what I define as friends
- It's getting difficult to find anyone on the same wavelenghts as me
- I am no longer an interesting person, people just don't want to get to know me
- I don't have time for new friends, getting to know someone consumes too much time before I could decide to stick with them or not

It's them, it's not me: I hear myself chanting this mantra.

So, I always return to my old friends, the ones from schools and college. Not that I am getting tired with the same ol' faces, it is just funny to know, perhaps, I am not as sociable as who I used to be.

Why? Why the change? Is it for the better?

Is this normal for someone who is simply aging and getting more mature by the day?

dirty.

Sometimes, I think I write too many things on 18SX topics in this blog, you guys must think I am such a pervert, or desperate, or simply horny.

Haha.

And today, the topic is about bulu pubis. Haha. Pubic hair. Women's pubic hair.

A guy I know prefers his woman to shave down there. Completely.

My first reaction was, "Why? I thought men don't like it bare because they would feel like having sex with schoolgirls, not women!"

On second thought, perhaps he was fantasizing to fuck a schoolgirl. Hmm...

"Have you ever watched a porn movie with a clean shaven pussy in it?" I asked, because I thought he might have watched it somewhere and developed the idea from there.

"No."

Was I the only one who thought this was bizarre and not normal?

"See...Noone's doing it. That's why I think it's weird..." before I could finish my sentence, he cut me off,

"Itu orang putih lah! Orang Islam lain, kita kena jaga kebersihan."

"Huh?"

"You tau tak orang putih tu dahlah tak basuh kencing, lepas tu air kencing lekat-lekat dekat bulu diorang, lepas tu I nak lick their pussies!" he exclaimed. "No way! Kotor! Jijik!"

Well, I never thought of it that way...

He continued, "It goes the same for the Malays. Walaupun kencing basuh, tapi mana tau ade residue-residue yang terlekat dekat bulu-bulu panjang tu...Sebab tu orang Islam kena shave, it's hygienic."

I imagined the sweats, vaginal discharge and whatnots secreted from the moist pussies.
Okay, enough, euw!

"So do you shave yours bald?" I was curious.

"Just keep it short and trimmed, tak payah licin pun tak ape...If the girl wants me to give her the ultimate pleasure, make sure it is clean lah..."

Oh, just keep it short and trimmed je ke? I've done since forever lah! Phew! Good to know I am hygienic and lickable. Haha!

Eh, best ke getting your pussy licked?

budak sekarang

My distant aunt said, "Budak zaman sekarang ni, dah tanak jadi doktor, jadi engineer, lawyer...Anak aku nak jadi pengarah filem!"

Tak ape lah...Asalkan boleh buat banyak duit...

"Eh, anak Dr. Ani* tu pun sekarang jadi chef tau!" another aunt of mine commented.

My cousin's little son, a 10-year-old boy, is very smart. He asked my aunt, "Tok Mummy, kerja ape eh, paling senang, tapi dapat banyak duit!"

Her Tok Mummy said, "Jadilah macam Mawi...Sekarang dia dah boleh beli rumah harga juta-juta!"

Rezeki masing-masing...

(* bukan nama sebenar)

imanku goyah.

Once upon a time, I used to pray 5 times a day. As soon as the Adzan called, I rushed to perform my prayer. Even though I didn't cover my aurat (I still haven't), I would not miss a prayer. I even prayed on a long haul flight, always making sure I brought the proper attire everywhere I went. I would feel very, very guilty and imagined myself getting burn in hell if I missed a prayer on purpose. No excuse was above it, I wanted to go clubbing, I prayed first, I came back from clubbing, I made myself stay awake til morning, so I wouldn't miss the Subuh prayer. What if I slept through and did not wake up ever again? I was afraid of dying before completing the compulsory.

Slowly, after I migrated overseas, I was beginning to do last-minute prayers. I eventually only performed four prayers a day, three, two or one-a-day, sometimes none at all. Perhaps, it was my surroundings. Perhaps, it was the difficulties to do it in a foreign country.

This still goes on.

I am not proud of myself. However, the guilt I now have is not as strong as I used to feel. I regret for letting this happens to me because now, I am having a tough time building back the discipline I used to have. It took me over two decades to achieve the 'nirvana' and I foolishly let it slip within a few years.

Realizing how fragile I am when alone, I've decided not to spend the rest of my life abroad. Something must be done or I'll end up influenced into having casual sex.

Right now, I am trying to improve the numbers of prayers I do per day. I am not being consistent though. Like I said, it's tough. I am too lazy and God-fearless. Sometimes, I am being too selfish for thinking the ablution will ruin my make-ups.

On the other hand, I don't want to rot in hell!

My boyfriend does not know this, but he plays a role in the process.

He often asks, "Dah solat?" which I'd reply, "Kejap lagi," and then, I would perform my prayer (or not). Of course, it would be shameful of me if I were to reply, "Kejap lagi," everytime, so sometimes, I would solat before he asks, just so I could tell him, "I dah solat. You sudah?"

Lately, I find myself using this motivation to make me solat:
God will pair a good woman with a good man and a good man with a good woman.

From the above, my logic tells me:
If my boyfriend prays, I must pray too, because I want to be his equal so our jodohs will meet.

Although I do the solat, I know it is of the wrong intention, I don't do it fully because of Allah Taala (but to marry this man instead).
But it is a start, eh?

avoid women.

A married couple, a doctor and an ex-lecturer (now a 32-year-old housewife) came into the office to discuss matters about his clinic.

He is busy most of the time.

The time was past midnight.

Previously, they were cheated. RM80000 is not a small number. That is probably the reason behind the stressed couple, especially the wife.

One of the three people handling the project made an excuse to leave early, tired and sick with the woman's attitude.

The argument heated. The wife was getting annoyed with her husband. She raised her voice. At one point, she turned her back and angkat kaki.

How unprofessional.
How degrading.

"Tak payah buatlah...Saya call esok," the husband said.

"Buang masa betul deal dengan orang-orang macam ni. Harga tanak kurang, barang nak tambah. Macam kita nak sangat duit dia. Kalau tak ada duit, cakaplah tak ada duit. Boleh kita adjust. Dah 3 hari balik pagi-pagi buta untuk buat quotation," one of the three handling the project expressed his dissatisfaction.

"Yang bini dia sibuk sangat kenapa? Sampai nak bergaduh depan orang. Jagalah air muka suami tu. Tunggulah dalam kereta kalau nak gaduh pun. Tak lawa. Masalah betul bila housewife nak campur tangan hal suami," he continued.

Kadang-kadang, perempuan ni memang mengada-ngada tau! I pun naik menyampah! Menyusahkan!
Kenapa perempuan ni fussy and strict ha? (Contohnya perempuan-perempuan yang bekerja di kaunter-kaunter bank dan penerbangan.)

AVOID WOMEN.

lagi-lagi tag.

Ingat tak mahu update, tapi kena tag pulak...Tag yang dulu from Encik Bangkai pun belum habis buat. Sabar ya...

Tag dari Dalie (nama timangan oleh rakan-rakan bloggers...Rakankah kita? Hehehe...)



1. nama-nama timangan oleh org tersayang

Sayang.
Nama sebenar yang tidak dapat didedahkan di sini. Saya tiada nama timangan lain.

2. anda seorang yang...........

Malas.
Suka berlengah-lengah.
Gemarkan masa yang banyak.
Bernasib baik.
Adil.
Positif.
Hipokrit.
Berani.
A strong character.
Istimewa. (Perasan. Because everybody's special.)

3. insan teristimewa. describe apa yg membuatkan die terlalu istimewa di mata anda.

Baik hati.
Murah hati.
Mampu menjaga dan membimbing saya dari segi fizikal, emosi, mental dan spiritual.
Tinggi lampai.
Penyabar.
Gemar kanak-kanak dan haiwan.
Berkarisma dan tegas di tempat kerja.
Berpengetahuan luas.

4. makanan favourite anda

Banyak. Bergantung pada makanan apa yang 'mengidam' pada waktu itu. Makanan yang tidak kering.

5. favourite color

Semua warna. Tapi saya rasa saya sesuai dengan warna putih dan jingga. Mungkin merah jambu, hijau dan biru juga. (Hampir kesemua warna kan?)

6. favourite song

More than words. Banyak cover.

7. sikap yg membuatkan anda stress

Kurang ajar tak tentu pasal. Contohnya, penjual tiket LRT malam semalam. (Hello, setakat jual tiket tu, tak payah berlagak dan sombong. Muka pun tak cantik.)
Konon alim.

8. 3 bende yg mesti ade dalam handbag anda...

Beg duit atau dompet.
Kamera.
Telefon bimbit.

9. kali terakhir anda menangis beriya-iya..kenapa??

Kata kunci di sini- menangis beriya-iya. Hmm...Sudah lama. Mungkin setahun lepas. Soal jodoh dengan ibu bapa.

10. tag 6 rakan anda

-
-
-
-
-
-

un/like father.

I kept checking out a girl on Facebook because I like her engagement and wedding ceremonies. But she just recently locked her profil page, I can no longer stalk her. :(





I have so many times heard this: A girl tends to fall in love with someone who is like her father.

Well, not me.

Unlike Father, my boyfriend is warm, friendly and patient. Father is strict, fierce at times, he is the boss at work and at home, he is respected, as well feared. (Some say I inherit his qualities.)

I am actually glad that my boyfriend is not like Father. Am I sinned because of this?

Minutes before writing this, I tried to think of anything that Father and my boyfriend have in common.

I found one.

I bet Father was in my boyfriend's shoes before he successfully wedded Mother.

I am not sure how the history of my parents went, but I believe it is kinda similar to mine.

Mother is the daughter of an architect, whereas my paternal grandfather was a bus driver.
I remember when I was little, among Mother's siblings, we lived in the smallest house, we didn't ride in fancy cars and we certainly didn't go overseas during school holidays.

So, if my parents made it possible, why can't we?

Hah, the next time if this becomes an issue again for Mother and Father, I will try this approach. Sometimes, old folks forget and need to be reminded.





Inappropriate interrogation by Father:
"Projek paling besar you dapat berapa juta?"
"You ada rasuah? Lobbying?"
"You main politik?"
C'mon Father, these things are personal, why did you have to make him uncomfortable!

lust.

I am having less and less time to blog hop now. So sorry if I hadn't been replying to your comments. Sometimes, I just don't know what to say, I'd stare and smile at the comment box for a very long time before finally deciding to exit the page. I wish I could just give you guys a polite smile :)

Talking to Mother is distracting nowadays. Her hair looks like Victoria Beckham's. She is the Posh Spice of Malaysia, I tell you, only older and fatter. I told her what I think about her new hair and she said that it'd look better after a nice blow which sent Niece and I rolling on the floor, laughing.






I feel bad because I think I am lusting over my boyfriend's bestfriend, George (bukan nama sebenar).

It is only natural that sometimes my boyfriend compares himself with him which influences me to compare him with George too.

George is famous for his looks. The first time I met him was about a year ago. I thought he was overrated.

But as time goes by, I notice I secretly steal glances at him. The sight of him makes my heart flutter. Sometimes, evil thoughts creep in, telling me that if George was my boyfriend, things would probably be easier for my parents because George fits me, in theory. In theory. His family, his education background, his age...

I am completely aware that this feeling I have for George is pure lust. I don't know George that well. I don't personally know his attitude, we never have a real, deep, meaningful conversation for me to explore whether his mind fits mine. The lust I have will probably go away once I know he is lacking the qualities I only find in my boyfriend. The problem is, my boyfriend sometimes feel insecure when he is around, he doesn't let us be friends. This makes my imagination run wild. Just like having a crush on a blogger, you could create him. You fall in love with his writings, thinking he is as perfect, as interesting, as beautiful as he is portraying himself with his beautiful words. But once the blogger reveals his looks, the crush dies off.

I need to find his flaws. He needs to reveal his flaws. Just one and that's it.

I know George has his flaws but I just need them to happen in my presence.

The only confirmed minus point I know of George is he is high-maintainence.






One of the bad (or good) things being in a relationship with my boyfriend is he introduces me to many of his male friends. Most of them are single and successful.

The old me who was satisfied just to see a presentable chap, now finds pleasure to judge him by the car he drives, the clothes he wears, the talk he talks.

Not good.

Setan. Ini semua lust!

emotions within a hug

I held him close and hugged him really tight. My head was rested on his strong, left shoulder. He had an arm on my back. I wished he had hugged me back with both of his arms, or at least stroking my hair with the other.

He couldn't see my face but I wondered if he knew what I wanted to say.

I am bad with spoken words. I drafted what I wanted to tell in my head, in English. I didn't want to sound like a sappy English novel. I began to translate it to Malay. They sounded even worse. So, I let everything lingered in my head, in my heart, hoping for a miracle would make him read me.

As tears were forming, I recited this:
"Thank you. Thank you for being so kind. Thank you for being so patient. Why is it difficult for us? I am sorry. I am so, so sorry. I love you. So much. So much. For the way you are. I know you've done a lot for me and I appreciate every single one. I will love you when you are old, when you are poor. I will take care of you when you are sick. I want to stay like this forever. I feel so comfortable, so safe like this. I don't know what I'd do if you are not here. Please don't leave me. You are for me."

Silence.

He pulled me a little, "I don't want you to get into troubles for going out late with me."

I refused to move, blinking a couple of or more times, buying a few more seconds, for the water in my eyes to dry.

I finally let go. I smiled. Behind the curve of my lips, I thought, "There are so many things I want to say, to tell you, but I can't bring myself to it. Do you know?"

Does he know why I like to hug him?
Pretending the time is still. Wishing he could listen me. Wanting to be close.

A new man.

Mother wanted to introduce me to a man,

"Muka dia lawa, tak macam muka kawan kamu tu..." she said. Kawan here means my boyfriend.
"He is 32 years old, an engineer..."

I told Mother to pass him to my sister.
My sister laughed.
Mother insisted.

"Kalau muka dia handsome, kerja elok, then why is he not married yet? There must be something wrong with him. Is he gay?" a sarcasm from me.

"What about your friend? Kenapa tak kahwin dengan budak kampung dia banyak cantik-cantik tu?"

"He doesn't like budak kampung. And I am pretty! And his mother likes me! She said I was better looking in real life than in pictures," I said.

"Sebab dah dia tak handsome, dia cakaplah awak cantik..." my sister chipped in.

"Apa ni, semuanya nak memandang rupa paras!" I protested. My boyfriend is not that bad looking. You just have to look at him a little bit longer to see.
And I am not that beautiful either. So, we match.




I told my boyfriend about Mother wanting me to meet this guy and he was disturbed, "Will you leave me then?" he asked at 4 in the morning, after he finished work.
"No, of course not. I am not interested," I said, half-sleeping.

10 greatest joys #4-5

After much thinking, I've figured out my greatest joys number 4 and 5.

4) Is when I really, really need to pee but I have to hold it, then I see a toilet and quickly lower my underpants after I lock the door, and I release the water and empty the bladder. Sungguh nikmat sekali!

This thing I am going to reveal might be embarassing, but it's okay since you don't know me.

Whenever the situation described above occurs to me, I would feel it's a pure bliss and would say, "Ahh...Sedapnye..." like I'm high on drugs, complete with an orgasmic facial expression, sometimes, if not uttering the words in my heart, I say it out loud!

Then, I would praise the Lord for inventing a bladder to hold the my water and create the magnificent joy along with it whenever I pee.

Sometimes, I give my boyfriend a call just to tell him, "Tadi I kencing, sedap gila...Best kan kencing? Lega...Macam lepas buat sex."

Seriously, I do that.

My boyfriend would just laugh and say something like, "Girlfriend apa you ni...Tak pernah ade orang call I just to tell me kencing tu best."

No, this is not any regular pee, this is peeing AFTER you hold it for a very long time...

5) High places.

I enjoy being at high places. You name it, on the top of a mountain, in a helicopter...Not in an airplane though, because I don't feel like I am high, but probably I would enjoy being in a smaller airplane, better if I fly it myself!

One of the best and memorable dates I've had is when my date brought me to a helipad on a top of a building.

I love high places, I wish I was a pilot. I wish to skydive, ride the hot-air balloon and bungee jump but money has always been the issue here. Besides, after I discovered each bungee jump will break one blood vessel in your eyes, (hehe, see, random knowledge- refer to my previous 10 greatest joys post), I become less adventurous. Ignorance is bliss, I wish I hadn't known about it.

I love high places, I want my boyfriend to bring to have dinner at KL Tower but I still haven't managed to convince him that it's a safe place, the tower won't fall while we are having our dinner.

I love high places, I want to climb mountains. When I was a child, I would climb anything, the gate, the trees, the swings, the tallest slides, until I reach the top and stay there. I would swing myself as high as I could, then jump off the swing. If I go to the waterpark, I wanted to go down the highest, fastest slide.

I often dream I could fly or float.

I'm obsessed with heights.

a successful meeting

Just now, my boyfriend came to visit my parents. It was a surprise visit, I found out he was already on his way after I decided to give him a call (we were not on talking terms, hence the silence but I lost this time around as I called him first).

So, he came, we weren't prepared, I wasn't even showered yet, Father was downstairs, so he cannot escape this time. However, Father still took his own sweet time to appear from the kitchen. But this was good as well, as my boyfriend had some time talking to my grandparent.

I was not around all the time during the conversation between my boyfriend and Father. If I was, I was mostly quiet. They talked about politics and business which I preferred to stay out of them.

While I was making drinks, Father asked my boyfriend (which was later reported by my boyfriend back to me), "Kenapa tak buka hotel?"

I laughed when I heard about it. Amboi, amboi, Father I suka-suka hati ingat orang banyak duit ke! (And I did write an entry ages ago on how I wouldn't want a hotel owner as my other half).

"Your dad orang business juga eh?" my boyfriend asked.
"Why?"
"Sebab dia tahu banyak pasal business. Dia tanya macam-macam..."
"Oh, he just wanted to make sure you are able to take care of me..." I answered.

My boyfriend stayed for lunch too.

After lunch, he quickly and discretely asked me how he did and I gave him two thumbs up. "Okay kan I kali ni?" he asked for reassurance.

He then left.

Half an hour later, he called to tell me he mistakenly wore Father's sandals.

He returned to my house to swap sandles.

"I tak sempat salam your grandparent tadi," he said. "I nak salam, tapi dia tengah makan. Dia ada?"
I nodded and he came in, met my grandparent, shook her hands and slipped money into her palms.
My grandparent refused. He said, "Tak apalah...Ambillah..."

Then, he left for the second time and I don't know when will I see him again. Why are you so far?