Mr. Professional, I Was Wrong
As dictated by Faranza Syns
Okay. I came up with this title in the car.
I just don't know why I came up with it.
*sigh*
Anyways, couldn't pray for the Eid prayers today. So I stayed back at my grandmother's house. We always have gatherings at our grandparents' house during the Eid.
And so, since I was... incapacitate (pfffft), Mama asked me prepare the table.
Initial reation: But there's not gonna be anyone home! And... I don't know how--
Mama: Just do the best that you can.
And so, they were off, leaving poor, befuddled me to fend for myself. The best that I can.
It took a few seconds of calm breathing for me to talk my self into doing "the best that I can".
Then, panic set in again. I opened the cupboard. "Freakin heck! Why're there so many types of PLATES? .... Oh my God... which cup to use? A glass, maybe? Which teacup? This type of saucer? Oh... my...."
I ran to my phone. Took it out of it's casing and dialed ma's number. Then, from the corner of my eye, I saw it.
Her handbag.
On the sidetable.
At my grandparents' house.
OH MY ****.
Frankly, it was like a tennis match. One moment I was saying "Cool it, Farhana. You can do this. Do the best that you can."
The next second, I was yelling at myself like a loon, saying I'll never get anything done.
Then, I moved to mom's bag. It looked... suspiciously devoid of... stuff... in it...
A quick search made me stop in a stupor.
Heck, her phone wasn't there. She brought it along with her.
So I should've called her in the beginning.
Yes, it was a pretty stressful morning. Thanks to myself, that is.
Then, I decided that the best way out is to wait at the door until they came from prayers and point out immediately the reasons why I couldn't set the table. Assuaged of guilt (quite easily. I'm pretty shocked myself), I sat down and read "Born in Ice" by Nora Roberts. (Damn you, Tarrant. Hmmph)
Turns out, it was okay. Well, they understood my plight (pffft) anyways.
So, all of us, the females of the family, set the table, prepared the food, set the table... and prepared the food again.... Yes, get it? I'm comparing males and females, here.
Anyways. Amira, my youngest cosuin, was looking way adorable. There was one part where me, Jaz, and Qiha were sitting on the same sofa. Then, Amira (she's 2, or something. i think. Dunno?) came over. She sat with us. Awww, so damned adorable.
Jaz fished out a small piece from the jar. Then, Amira grabbed it. Jaz held on to it, teasing her. Amira broke off a small chunk of it, which would've satisfied us grown kids, but just makes teeny-tiny kids like her lust for more. And so, she struggled with Jaz for it. Jaz finally let go.
We watched as Amira chewed on it.
Awwww... the road to discovery, huh?
She nearly put the piece back into the jar if we hadn't stopped her. We resorted to the age-old tactic of finishing food.
All: Kasi kat mama. Bagi kat mama. Cepat, cepat.
Her mom was walking up the stairs. Amira waited a bit. Then, cheekily, she trailed after her mother. Before climbing the stairs, she turned to us, and gave a devillishly cheeky smile that would've made me squeeze her to death had I not have the presence of mind to know that killing is... bad. (there you go, Hariz. I like babies, too. Happy?)
Mind you, my cousin Ames (Amyra) from Penang came over and was celebrating the Eid with us.
Amira. And Amyra.
Yes, there were times that I enjoyed making Ames look at me when I call out Amira's name.
Plenty of those times, actually.
I just did it just now. Went to the livingroom to ask about Amira's age. Amyra (who was sprawled on the floor watching Harry Potter) came to attention. "What?!" she asked.
"Amira umur berapa tahun?"
"Huh?!" Jaz was confused, just as much. But she caught on, and we laughed at Ames.
Aww, come on, Ames. It's not everyday I get to do that to you.
And it's fun. Not for you, that is. Haha.
By the way, me and mes beat my bro at Halo again tonight. *breathes in contentedly*
I can sleep tonight, alright. The soothing balm of victory is as a good a lullaby as any.
I wonder which is better when you're heartbroken? Sing to "So What?" by Pink:
I'm still young. I might not know how to handle my emotions yet. But we're all learning, aren't we? I'm not so mature. I know that. But then again, who is at 16?
So, Mr. Professional, whoever you are, I know I'm not all that. I might not know what's best right now. But at least, I'm learning. One day, you'll see me. And I'll be on the same rank as you. Just wait. Just wait.
And anyways.... my voice sounds nicer when I sing Pink. Haha.
Not true, actually. Haha. I like my voice best when it's singing "Belaian Jiwa". Whoa... it was surprisingly ... strong.
And Laine, remember when we sang So What the whole day? Haha. I'll remember that forever.
But of course, that'll never beat our rendition of "I'm Yours". *wriggles eyebrows*
Open up your pants, indeed.
Haha.
Do you remember like I do?
Or was it tainted in your view?
I just don't know why I came up with it.
*sigh*
Anyways, couldn't pray for the Eid prayers today. So I stayed back at my grandmother's house. We always have gatherings at our grandparents' house during the Eid.
And so, since I was... incapacitate (pfffft), Mama asked me prepare the table.
Initial reation: But there's not gonna be anyone home! And... I don't know how--
Mama: Just do the best that you can.
And so, they were off, leaving poor, befuddled me to fend for myself. The best that I can.
It took a few seconds of calm breathing for me to talk my self into doing "the best that I can".
Then, panic set in again. I opened the cupboard. "Freakin heck! Why're there so many types of PLATES? .... Oh my God... which cup to use? A glass, maybe? Which teacup? This type of saucer? Oh... my...."
I ran to my phone. Took it out of it's casing and dialed ma's number. Then, from the corner of my eye, I saw it.
Her handbag.
On the sidetable.
At my grandparents' house.
OH MY ****.
Frankly, it was like a tennis match. One moment I was saying "Cool it, Farhana. You can do this. Do the best that you can."
The next second, I was yelling at myself like a loon, saying I'll never get anything done.
Then, I moved to mom's bag. It looked... suspiciously devoid of... stuff... in it...
A quick search made me stop in a stupor.
Heck, her phone wasn't there. She brought it along with her.
So I should've called her in the beginning.
Yes, it was a pretty stressful morning. Thanks to myself, that is.
Then, I decided that the best way out is to wait at the door until they came from prayers and point out immediately the reasons why I couldn't set the table. Assuaged of guilt (quite easily. I'm pretty shocked myself), I sat down and read "Born in Ice" by Nora Roberts. (Damn you, Tarrant. Hmmph)
Turns out, it was okay. Well, they understood my plight (pffft) anyways.
So, all of us, the females of the family, set the table, prepared the food, set the table... and prepared the food again.... Yes, get it? I'm comparing males and females, here.
Anyways. Amira, my youngest cosuin, was looking way adorable. There was one part where me, Jaz, and Qiha were sitting on the same sofa. Then, Amira (she's 2, or something. i think. Dunno?) came over. She sat with us. Awww, so damned adorable.
Amira: *Points at rempeyek* Nak!
Me: *blinks* Sure ke ni?
Amira: Nak!
Me: *stares doubtfully* Sure?
Amira: NAK.
Jaz fished out a small piece from the jar. Then, Amira grabbed it. Jaz held on to it, teasing her. Amira broke off a small chunk of it, which would've satisfied us grown kids, but just makes teeny-tiny kids like her lust for more. And so, she struggled with Jaz for it. Jaz finally let go.
We watched as Amira chewed on it.
Amira: Tak sedap.
Awwww... the road to discovery, huh?
She nearly put the piece back into the jar if we hadn't stopped her. We resorted to the age-old tactic of finishing food.
All: Kasi kat mama. Bagi kat mama. Cepat, cepat.
Her mom was walking up the stairs. Amira waited a bit. Then, cheekily, she trailed after her mother. Before climbing the stairs, she turned to us, and gave a devillishly cheeky smile that would've made me squeeze her to death had I not have the presence of mind to know that killing is... bad. (there you go, Hariz. I like babies, too. Happy?)
Mind you, my cousin Ames (Amyra) from Penang came over and was celebrating the Eid with us.
Amira. And Amyra.
Yes, there were times that I enjoyed making Ames look at me when I call out Amira's name.
Plenty of those times, actually.
I just did it just now. Went to the livingroom to ask about Amira's age. Amyra (who was sprawled on the floor watching Harry Potter) came to attention. "What?!" she asked.
"Amira umur berapa tahun?"
"Huh?!" Jaz was confused, just as much. But she caught on, and we laughed at Ames.
Ames: Jahat!
Aww, come on, Ames. It's not everyday I get to do that to you.
And it's fun. Not for you, that is. Haha.
By the way, me and mes beat my bro at Halo again tonight. *breathes in contentedly*
I can sleep tonight, alright. The soothing balm of victory is as a good a lullaby as any.
___________________________________
I wonder which is better when you're heartbroken? Sing to "So What?" by Pink:
So, so what?
I'm still a rock star
I got my rock moves
And I don't need you
And guess what?
I'm having more fun
And now that we're done
I'm gonna show you tonight
I'm alright
I'm just fine
And you're a tool
So, so what?
I am a rock star
I got my rock moves
And I don't want you tonight
I'm still a rock star
I got my rock moves
And I don't need you
And guess what?
I'm having more fun
And now that we're done
I'm gonna show you tonight
I'm alright
I'm just fine
And you're a tool
So, so what?
I am a rock star
I got my rock moves
And I don't want you tonight
Or should we sing to T-Shirt by Shontelle?
Should we go with false pretenses, or pitiful acceptance?
Personally... I prefer Pink.
At least then, we can go thrashing around, singing until all the bitterness, hurt and questions are drained dry. Until we convince ourselves we're okay.
The whole thing's a lie. (And where would we meet Jessica Simpson anyways? haha). But when the hurt is deep, the bitterness a biting anger infesting in your gut, it's best you cry it all out, or shout it out.
What I did was sing to "Rimas" (The Fabulous Cats) to my Tommy. He was pretty fascinated, really. Actually, I was singing to the wall. When I turned to look at Tommy, he had his cat-eyes on the wall, as if he was waiting for a reaction from the wall at my sadness and fury.
As if he's looking for the entity that his loon of an owner was shouting at.
God, you won't believe how much harder I cried, and laughed after I saw Tommy doing that. I appreciated it a lot. Call me full of conspiracies, full of suspicions, call me a silly girl with silly notions in her head.
But that thing that a cat did, moved me more than anything.
Nothing feels right when I'm not with you
Sick of dress and these Jimmy Choos
Taking them off cuz I feel a fool
Tryinna dress up when I'm missin' you
I'ma step out of this lingerie
Curl up in a bar with something Hanes
In bed I lay
With nothing but your t-shirt on
Sick of dress and these Jimmy Choos
Taking them off cuz I feel a fool
Tryinna dress up when I'm missin' you
I'ma step out of this lingerie
Curl up in a bar with something Hanes
In bed I lay
With nothing but your t-shirt on
Should we go with false pretenses, or pitiful acceptance?
Personally... I prefer Pink.
At least then, we can go thrashing around, singing until all the bitterness, hurt and questions are drained dry. Until we convince ourselves we're okay.
The whole thing's a lie. (And where would we meet Jessica Simpson anyways? haha). But when the hurt is deep, the bitterness a biting anger infesting in your gut, it's best you cry it all out, or shout it out.
What I did was sing to "Rimas" (The Fabulous Cats) to my Tommy. He was pretty fascinated, really. Actually, I was singing to the wall. When I turned to look at Tommy, he had his cat-eyes on the wall, as if he was waiting for a reaction from the wall at my sadness and fury.
As if he's looking for the entity that his loon of an owner was shouting at.
God, you won't believe how much harder I cried, and laughed after I saw Tommy doing that. I appreciated it a lot. Call me full of conspiracies, full of suspicions, call me a silly girl with silly notions in her head.
But that thing that a cat did, moved me more than anything.
I'm still young. I might not know how to handle my emotions yet. But we're all learning, aren't we? I'm not so mature. I know that. But then again, who is at 16?
So, Mr. Professional, whoever you are, I know I'm not all that. I might not know what's best right now. But at least, I'm learning. One day, you'll see me. And I'll be on the same rank as you. Just wait. Just wait.
And anyways.... my voice sounds nicer when I sing Pink. Haha.
Not true, actually. Haha. I like my voice best when it's singing "Belaian Jiwa". Whoa... it was surprisingly ... strong.
And Laine, remember when we sang So What the whole day? Haha. I'll remember that forever.
But of course, that'll never beat our rendition of "I'm Yours". *wriggles eyebrows*
Open up your pants, indeed.
Haha.
Do you remember like I do?
Or was it tainted in your view?
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