May 31, 2009

Please Let Me.

As dictated by Faranza Syns

I have discovered two miraculous things that you can ever find out when you're seventeen:

1. I have wrinkles around my mouth. Hence, I will now stop smiling. Next time you see me, please don't be surprised at my dead-pan expression. It's for the greater good of my face.

2. I have dimples. Shocking. Especially since I never knew. Until now. Imagine, living seventeen years in ignorance. When I smile or frown in a certain way, they appear. Super-duper-whooper cool. But I had promised I shan't smile anymore. Ah, predicaments, predicaments.

From these two observations, I will now skillfully come up with a straight-and-true conclusion.

But I'm sure that conclusion is currently stampeding inside your own head.

Yes, I have to admit. I stare at the mirror one too many times. And one hour too long. It's not my fault though that everywhere I go, I seem to encounter a device that somehow or other reflects light. And my face. Ahem. I can't go around smashing mirrors just to spite my ego, so I suppose I have to live with it.

Find me someone else.
I don't want you.


Olive branches

As dictated by Faranza Syns

On my O2 Phone:

Me: Shaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaane~

Shane: Hey, got class now. Reply later.

Boy. How abrupt.

5 hours later:

Shane: Yes, darlin, how can I help you?

Me: Lol. Nothin hun. Just wanted to disturb u. Didn't realise it was such a perfect time to disturb u, tho ;p

Shane: gud 2 c dat u're still d same Farhana...

Me: Hahaha. I'll never change, hun. ... Ok, maybe I will, but hopefully to bcome a lil slimmer, n nothing else xD

Shane: I think u look nice just d way u r... it gives you d FARHANA look. :)

How I've missed Shane.

Me: Awwwwh. Okay, who else did you try that line on?

Shane: Hey, I'm not cheap okay? Me bein my usual charming self, I have a different line for everyone... can't help it if I'm dat smooth, rite? :p

Me: hahaha. Oh, really? Ah heck, u just admitted that it WAS a line. Oooh, I'm wounded. But u do it so well, I think I'll forgive you.

Shane: Excuse me, but it's not merely a line... 2 me... it's called.... ART.

Haha. I don't even remember why I haven't texted him for so long. Then, while I was sitting at Starbucks, under the influence of a good dose of a frappe that I've just spent an outrageous amount of RM13.50 on, I just started texting him.

Well, at least that cup of mocha frappuccino had its uses.

You give me goosebumps.
I think it's your make-up.



As dictated by Faranza Syns

Too bad my case is not as simple as two little visits:

If it were, I would've taken the world by storm right about now.

You got dumped big, girl.



As dictated by Faranza Syns

Too tired to say anything except: THIS IS FRIGGIN' MINE, SO DON'T FRIGGIN STEAL IT.

I am pissed too. I just went onto the website and found out that the deadline had been postponed to 7th June.


What the hell. I'm too tired to say anything.

I did everything from scratch. Every single thing was done by me (and of course, the computer and software).

It's a bit messy. It was supposed to be just like this:

But then I remembered that I have to use at least 3 of what I've learned so far. So, I slapped that filmstrip there. I was so fed-up I couldn't care less if it looked ugly.

As long as I pass.

I'll miss you, sweetheart.


May 29, 2009

Kiss me, Mocha-guy. And make it hot.

As dictated by Faranza Syns

Maybe I should start it off as a happy-go-lucky post.

I finally got the chance to go to Starbucks at the PGRM building. Me and Mei Yin went to the school field, and took off our one-and-a-half inch pumps and put on our sport shoes. Yes, we didn't change our clothes. We wore those shoes with our prefect uniforms. It's lucky that we frankly care only about a) our weight, b) and the pimples on our face, that we didn't care when people stared at our uniform, then at our shoes. It was amusing. And we're enough of the occasional dare-devils to look definitely wrong once in a while.

And so, we walked with our bags and blazers towards the PGRM building. When we reached, we quickly snagged the most comfy spot, and bee-lined towards the counter. I was (at first) driven by thirst. Mei Yin and I stood at the counter, deliberating upon which beverage to actually order. It was a girl at the counter. And she waited patiently as Mei Yin and I second-guessed each other. I suppose it was annoying, but really, we couldn't help ourselves. Put a miser with a person who spends her money lavishly and you get two very interesting characters who scold each other every second. Guess who's the miser, Mei Yin? Haha.

But as it turned out, she bought the more expensive drink. My fault, but who asked you to make me decide, eh?

Oh, oh and let's not forget the person manning the counter.

"Yes, Farhana?" said the manly, cultured voice. "Would you like *insert a sort of drink*, *insert another sort of drink* or ice-blended drinks-- of course Ice-blended," he said in quick succession, answering his own question, smiling.


The fact that he spoke awebloodysome english made me melt right on the spot. And then he HAD to smile that unbearably attractive smile. (Stop laughing, Mei Yin.)

He patiently endured our open-conference right there in front of the counter that had (oh Thank God!) no one else in front of it. Then, as he got our orders, he said he'd call out our orders when he's done. "So, Farhana..." he checked my name again. I nodded, and hesitated. It was at the tip of my tongue to ask him his age. And his number. Ahem. But I covered up, and began walking away.

But I paused when he mispronounced Mei Yin's name. It was just so adorable. He checked Mei Yin's tag to see her name. "Meng Yen.. Meing... Lei Mei Yen..."

I walked away laughing, saying over my shoulder, right behind Mei Yin who merely nodded sufferingly at the brutal mutilation of her name,"It's Mei Yin!"

I laughed again.

Okay, I was high. Please don't kill me for being high.

And so we sat there and discussed life, got our drinks and talked about guys. And our face. And our bodies. And ahem, the body of our ideal man.

I am a bad influence on Mei Yin.

We stayed there for two hours, tops.

When we finally stood up to leave, Mocha-guy called out, "See you, Farhana."

Is it possible to melt twice?

I think I'd melt ten-thousand times for Mocha-guy.

I'm still regretting the fact that I didn't hit on him. It's not like I'd go back there, anyways.

. . . . . . . . .

HONEST, I'm not going back! It was a one-time thing!

But oh, Mocha-guy. You are delish.


MY: Why do you always look out the window?

Me: *blink* I didn't realise. Well, because I like to.

MY: People say when you look out the window, you're waiting for someone to come.

Me: . . . I suppose I am waiting for someone.

The fact that one of those times, Mocha-guy was outside clearing the tables has nothing to do with that awesomely-cryptic comment.


School was horrid. I just feel ... shaken and shattered for the ten-thousandth time at how callously the school uses us. At how idiotic I am to actually feel hurt.

Stupid, really.

Basically, today was a day from hell. It's the worst teachers' day celebration ever. I've already written up some very caustic statements in the post that I was going to publish a few hours ago, but I decided not to. Especially when I lost the mood.

Teachers should not blame us for not being able to organise the event so smoooooothly.

Teachers should not complain, since we've been given anything but ample time for the planning of this supposedly important event.

People should not walk out on a performance, regardless of its standard or its level of entertainment.

It is rude to order your senior--sarcastically-- to lend you a hand when you're the one at fault. Being bitchy to your seniors is a stupid move, dear. No matter if you're an ex-teacher's daughter or not. (On my own bitchy note: if you can't say anything smart, hold your tongue, zip your lips and shut up. When I ask you to hurry up, I don't mean "oh, break it down girl!". Dancing looks stupid on you, so please.)

You should listen once in a while. When I say NO, fundamentally, that means "No". And extensively, it still means "No". When you don't listen, you just end up being annoying. And geez, lookie! Everyone agrees with me.

Please don't just go around hugging people. They might mistake you for a hippie. Oh, that was exactly what you wanted to portray? Silly me. I'll just shut up, now.

Being bubbly and cheery and trying to win people over with those excessively irritating traits is like begging for us to give you the boot. Buck the friggin' hell up. Be serious, for once, will you? I don't care if you want to be an awe-bloody-some princess, as long as you actually do the things you're supposed to. What's with drinking soda when you know very well you're not supposed to do it there? What? Oh, you're a princess so you can actually do that, but us lowly, peasant-prefects can't? Oh, silly me! Why didn't I realise such a colossal fact? I'll just shut up again, now. Tell me when you want my stupid opinions, princess. Lord knows you won't listen to 'em otherwise.

It's bad enough that everyone else was calling it quits. But we depended on you. When you upped and left, it's what we call betrayal. Harakiri is too kind for you. All forms of Seppuku is too kind for you.

Please don't order us imperiously to open the gates for you. For one, I am older. Two, you're just a probate. Three, dear, you're too full of yourself.

How happy I am that I'm stepping down. How happy I am that I'm leaving. How happy I am that I don't have to deal with you.

It is in the past,
I see no significance in discussing it.
Two Toms or four, what does it matter?
They mean nothing. Except for one.


May 28, 2009


As dictated by Faranza Syns

I found myself in a very... "dream-fulfilling" position.

I have never had so many guys surround my table before.

First came Yee Ming. Then came Eugene. Then came Shane.

And then came Kessler and Shukran and... Ian?

Well, you get the idea.

Me: OMG, look at my desk. It's full of males. All of you are focused here!

Eugene: Fulfills your every fantasy, eh?


None of you have ever managed to feature (even as the bestboy) in my fantasies.

I suppose the reason they were all swarming my table was because of their innate mentality that resembles a herd. One here, and everyone follows. Of course, I'm not scorning them. It's somewhat adorable how they follow each other around. Okay, maybe yes, I was funning them a little. But who's to say the herd mentality they have does not benefit the female race?

But I won't get into details as this might offend my male counterparts.

Yee Ming spied with his beautiful-without-spectacles eyes my whole stack of Mills and Boons. Humorously, he regards them as porn books. Good grief, if something as tame as MnB is wild, thrashy, and could be passed-off as "porn", I wonder what he would call real porn.

I won't even venture a guess at that. No, it just kills my brain cells trying to figure out what's so wrong with reading romance.

Males watch porn, but females can't read romance? Come-freakin-on! That's double standard!

Nurul: OMG, Colby is soooo hot!

Me: OMG, yes YES! He is SO hot.

Yee Ming: I'll never understand women.

And apparently, I'll never understand men as well.

Yee Ming: Now, Jessica Alba-- that's good stuff.


Me: EWW. That sounds so eugh.

Nurul: Yeah, eww!

Yee Ming: Well, us guys, we devour. It's like eating, tasting, savouring--


Remember those times when mommy used to say that the easiest way to man's heart is their stomach? Rejoice, women. Yee Ming has just clarified that piece of irrefutable mother-to-daughter piece of advice. Who knew mommy was so smart, eh? Of course, the fact that they landed our daddies and got right around to making us all pretty much answers that otherwise very stupid question.

Anyways, I have just accepted a bribe at school. Went for the EduBox training classes again. And got into a tiff with the instructor. There was apparently a HUGE misunderstanding about the payment of fees, and I got really pissed. Which daft human wouldn't be when they felt they had just been duped? I stalked over to my seat and fumed. Then watched House Season 5 with Amanda.

By that moment of time, all I wanted to do was choke House for being so stubbornly stupid (in an awesome kind of way) and for some reason, that vision fazed in and fazed out with visions of me stomping on our instructor for the day. People usually kill the messenger, you know. Bearer of bad news are never safe. That's why people invented IM's and Internet. So that you could be spared the brunt of a person's rage.

But that aside, I was pissed off with her.

Until I found out she watches House as well. And she had an opinion on it, too. I grudgingly began opening channels for communication, then.

Then, I found out she plays DOTA. Okay, so maybe I shouldn't have gotten mad at her. EduBox cheated me. Not her.

But I finally forgave her when she bribed me with RM 3. Amanda objected crassly when I said it was a bribe, because the instructor did promise to give three ringgit to the person who answers her questions correctly. I--apparently--answered correctly. At the time, I wasn't as hostile as before. She watches House. I can begin to forgive anyone who does. At first, I thought she was merely joking about giving us all RM 3. But then she whipped out her purse and extracted RM 3.
Talk about making a quick buck.

Yee Ming got RM 5, though, because she had no small change. NOT. FAIR.

Anyways, when you strip those notions bare of the glitter and glamour, it is basically a bribe. A bribe for you to keep coming to her class. A bribe for you to shut up when she speaks and to listen.

But to tell the truth, her being herself would've sufficed to get us all coming back. Our previous two intructors have been so dreary, they propelled me to watch Slumdog Millionaire while they were teaching. Their inability to gain attention was so bored-tears inducing that I was so ready to quit.

And they don't entirely have that great a sense of fashion (a shallow point of view, but a point of view, nonetheless).

This new instructor was awesome. She walks around, gets our attention, and gets us involved. When we couldn't understand, she got us to sit at the front and she showed us the way, per se.

And she bribes us. Definitely uber cool.


I. Cannot. Believe it.

I fit into Mel T's blazer. MEL T'S BLAZER.

Mel, let's exchange blazers! Yours is ten times more comfortable, and ten times sexy looking. Ah. Want. It.

I have a feeling mine was a blazer tailored for guys. It's so tight around the hips, I feel like suffocating at times.

Yours was... a work of art.

Now, I think I'll go cry over this; the injustice of life. I have lived all my life thinking I'll never look sexy. Thinking no blazer will fit me. Oh, life! You cruel, cruel thing!

But your blazer has showed me the light. I will now exercise ten times harder. When I finally get to fit into my blazer, I will hug you for-freakin-ever.

And hey, I look sexeh, eh, in that picture, Laine?


Anyways, can't wait for tomorrow. Mel, I wanna switch blazers with you once in a while!

Please don't be stupefied when you find that this blog gets very infrequent updates at times. I cannot promise consistency, so let's just go with it, eh?


Mel: I want European guys.

Laine: I'm still hooked on my *insert name of school* guy.

Me: Gawd, everyone has their own obsession.

Aja: *nods* But I'm lazy to think about that. Getting involved... malas.

Me: *nods* I've never been involved too, so...

Laine & Aja : ELEH. What's those postscripts on your blog for?

Me: *blink* What?

Laine: You know, those small lettered sentences on your blog at the bottommmmmm?


Laine: Hah! Those small-lettered things are what people look forward to reading to most, okay!

Aja: Because's it's at the bottom, and it's SMALL.

Me:... Ah. I see.

It seems that I have underestimated the power of the last words. So, as a closing to this post,

I don't want to have a relationship,
I want a hot, sweaty, sexy affair.


May 26, 2009


As dictated by Faranza Syns

I have to tell you how much I am disappointed.

Because you were one of the best; and although expectations trouble you, I expected something better than the worst.

It's not fair when you cheat your soul. It's not fair when you fool your conscience, saying that it's fine, as long as you get to keep your foolish pride.

It's not sound logic when you try to protect your sensibilities by wearing those rose-tinted glasses. It's not rationale you use when you try to save yourself with silly, idiotic solutions.

Your cup of deliberation is not my cup of tea.

Because I am so disappointed in you, it's making me feel sick.

I won't name names, because fool that I am, I don't want people to know who you are. I don't want them to dig a little too deep and find the myriad of imperfection, flaws and fault.

I don't want them to be as disappointed as I am.

Just because you decided to cheat yourself.

You know who you are inside.
Lie all you want; it's not me you're fooling.
Though I'm stupid, at least I tried.


May 25, 2009

Well, the thing is...

As dictated by Faranza Syns

When I think it's a pointless endeavour, I abandon ship.

When I talk to you, and I don't get a response, that's when I know what I'm doing will get me nowhere.

Why waste time on inane monologues?

It's give and take I'm looking for; not a statue of a martyr.

You are over-excitable;
It's starting to get distasteful.


The Wet Patch

As dictated by Faranza Syns

I just laid waste to two Physics paper after only two hours of sleep within 48 hours.

I think the last Physics paper for tomorrow is pretty lucky since I got rid of all the crap in me and tranferred it into the two aforementioned papers. They are beyond repair. I wonder what nightmares I'd give Pn Rashidah as she marks the papers. Hopefully she'll survive the ordeal without too much errr... trauma.

Studied up till 2, and woke up at 4 to continue studying. As soon as I finished answering Physics paper 1, I dropped dead like a leaf. No one else was sleeping. Only yours truly. She wonders if she snored too. It would be utterly, mortifyingly interesting.

Woke up with sore, blood-shot eyes and a lousy temper to boot. Now I'm sniffling. Great, I really need to workout.

This is priceless. Never knew there would ever be a day that I would turn to exercising for comfort.


Went to visit my aunt yesterday. She just gave birth to another daughter. *mutters mutters*

She has rosy cheeks and white skin.

You know, it's not fair how fair-skinned all my family member are.

Outside, I feel so special being the one with the fair skin. You rarely get a Malay who's not tanned.

But here in my family, I feel outnumbered.

Too much good genes for my liking. Humph.


Tom basically ignores me. His role in life is to dangle his tail in front of me, stare at me drolly, then walk away, sexy butt shifting left to right, left to right.

But last night, I mauled him.

And he licked my lips.

I was happy.

Until I recalled the many times he has licked his privates using the same tongue.

Sometimes, I think he's around just to punish me.

That four-legged monster.


The thing about taking the bull by its horns--in my situation, meaning exercising at my own will-- gives me some really nifty benefits.

Like getting the computer whenever I want to.

"I'm learning my hip hop moves; get off."

And they usually protest loudly, but you get what you want.

"Get out of the room; I'm exercising."

More loud verbal protestations, but none physical.

"Ma, I wanna use your room (since it's the only lockable room with a TV in it)."

"Oh, sure, sure. I'll just go down and cook."

The house is--in very loose terms-- mine to order around. They seem to be scared that I'd change my mind on exercising that they immediately agree, protest, challenge me ("Ha, you're gonna exercise? Yeah, right!"), or just stomp out og the room.

Geez, why didn't I do this earlier?


Yee Ming: If I score, lunch is on me; if you score, dinner's on you.

Me: What?! Why dinner?

Most probably because it'll cost more. The poor old dear's forgotten that he still owes me Baskin Robbins.

And Zi Kang owes me a candle-light dinner.

Pay up.

It's not fair and I think you're really mean.


May 24, 2009


As dictated by Faranza Syns

My first post after 300. Including drafts, mind, so don't go to my archives and start counting just for spite.


I have ten followers. Just a few days ago, I despaired ever seeing a single soul visiting my blog.

Now I get two followers within the space of a few hours.

Daly and Pei Sun (ex-husband).

Thank you, lovelies. You just made the prospects of a new day brighter and not so dreary.


Edit: I L.O.V.E you too, my other followers. (Namely Afzan. And Aja. And CWJ. And Syakila. And Hariss. And... Afzan again. And Shikin, too.)

You guys were the first to become my followers. I would've given up blogging if it weren't for you guys.

Now I feel like sniffling.

But that aside, you guys are ay-may-zing.

Muahx to you all.

Big huggies!

Let's make pinky-promises;
The one who breaks 'em has to swallow a thousand needles.


May 23, 2009


As dictated by Faranza Syns

Because I finally got the real truth.

It made all the difference.

Thank you.

And in case you missed it, that was sarcasm right up your heinie.

A lone figure promising upon the purity of a tainted, white flower.
He's a fool, really.


Pigs Don't Fly

As dictated by Faranza Syns

Nor do they sweat.

Well, not enough befitting the "sweat like a pig" idiom.

"Pigs do have a few sweat glands, but they're not very useful for temperature adjustment. When the mercury rises on the farm, Wilber wallows in cool water or mud, which has the same evaporation effect as sweating."

- Ben Mauk,

Now, I understand that the turn of phrase most probably came from a person who looks super (ahem) pig-like when they sweat, but come on. It's just sweat. It's a natural law of life. You sweat to keep the heat off. No need to harm the poor animal's already-battered ego.

I know, I know, sweat contains urea, and most of us educated people (namely Yish) get repelled by it (Don't you "What?!" me. You admitted it yourself.)

Once upon a time:

Me: *reading a racy novel*

Guys: *roars with laughter over some thing or other*

Me: *minds own business*

Yish: You know, I don't want a girlfriend who's fat. Their arms are fat, and then they sweat. It's *shudders* disgusting, y'know.

Me: *looks up at him, eyebrow raised, smiling amusingly*

Yish: Oh. Oh, sorry!

Me: *looks away, smiling* Whatever, Yish.

Okay, maybe my memory's a little faulty and I didn't respond exactly like that. I might have responded by throwing a tantrum and tossing the said-novel at his head. But my job intertwines with imagination, and my imagination is running rampant. Live with me, dear. You love me eitherways.

Please don't get me wrong. I don't have an issue with sweat, fat, or the fact that sweat is sometimes a turn off.

But wait... if it's a turn off... then during copulation...?

Do our sweat glands have an automated "Off" switch when we have... ahem? When we do the dirty, as Erin McCartney likes to word it.

All that humping, tossing, turning and bouncing is bound to work a few pounds off. So... Yish dear, eventually, you will encounter a sweaty female. It's inevitable. Okay, and maybe your issue is with fat, sweaty people, but... geeez, could you at least watch what you say?

I rest my case. A weak end to a monumental issue, so kill me.

That aside, I've done a good deal of sweating. Teehee, very unlady-like and undelicate of me to mention this, but I just feel good.

Does sweating make you glow? I sure did.

Or it must've been the light overhead.

I think I'll feel better if it were the former, so I say, former!

I'm all about narcissism.

This morning, I checked my weight.

Nearly cried in joy when I saw I lost another kg.

Then we went out to celebrate my brother's birthday. Ordered Fish and Wedges at Delifrance. My dad looked at me askance. He said the one sentence that he has never said to me before: "Is that enough?"

Like I actually devour a whole cow for lunch daily.

The thing about parents is when you're not dieting and exercising and trying to get your weight down, they nag at you 24 hours, 7 days a week. They send you scrutinizing looks across the table, counting each swallow that you take. They "subtly" pop into your room at 7 in the morning and inform you "inconspicuously" that they were going out for a run and asking "sweetly" if you were going to join them. If you just grunted a no, they'd rally a whole lot of guilt in you by reading you the riot act, and then drag you out of bed for a run around the lake, despite loud and sulky protests.

But when they walk down the stairs at 8 in the morning and find you in the living room working your arse on a workout, they start asking you if you're eating enough. Mom caught me first, but she just acknowledged my sudden "internal about-face" with grace and silence. My dad came down next.

"Hoo! Exercise!"

I looked up at him on the stairs and then I continued on. I was too breathless to say anything anyways.

"Good, good," he mutters.

I suppose it was an awkward moment for him. One of those "OMG-she's-never- done-this-before-what-should- I-say-for- a-situation-like-this" scenario. Sometimes, you just never expect it to happen, and when it does happen, you're bowled over.

I guess he still has to get used to me taking things by the horn. But he's thoughtful to the end. Giving me advice. Telling me to take it slow. Telling me that I don't have to starve myself. Telling me to not give-up halfway. And to be strong. Mom too. Gawd, I have awesome parents.

Delifrance's Fish and Wedges had 2 fish fillets. And the plate was super full to the point of overflowing. So, since my sister's plate was already nearly half-empty, I placed one of the fillets on sister's plate. In accordance to the family habit, we pass around the plates to allow everyone a taste of different dishes. When my brother asked the table in general what that brown piece of something on Jaz's plate was, my mother answered naturally, "Oh, Farhana gave her fillet to Jazmina."

Like it was sure thing for me to cut down what I eat into half. I don't know if that's good or bad. Of course, I did cut off up to half of the said fillet and dumped it on her plate for her to eat, but I'm not that much of a person who starves myself.

"Transferred, Ma. Transferred," I corrected her.



My dad expects me to take it slow, but my mom is expecting me to go the whole nine yards.

Eitherways, they're still great.



Shikin: Oh shoot. There's a foreigner here at the KLCC Med Centre, wantin to check if he has the pig flu. Wonder if I will catch it. Hmm.

Me: OMG, hun, pls don't get it! Who am I supposed to send random text msgs to if not u?

Shikin: Dun worry. I think they allow phones where i'm goin. I seriously dun think I can transfer my flu 2 u thru whatever waves phones use.

Me: Oh, but it'd be so fun if it's possible. It makes a great base for fiction

Shikin: Oh shucks. It's a positive thing in a literary kinda view. Shucks, will I still be your fifth wife even if I get this damned flu?

Me: I'm sorry, but no. Since you'd be sick, I'll promote you to 2nd in rank. U poor thing, I'd say. Maybe a raise wud get u better sooner.

Shikin: Oh, how sweet of u. Dat means when I die u will get my non-existent gazillion dollars worth estates, gamblin centres, casinos, brothels, bankrupt banks...

Me: Oooh, brothels? Forget 2nd, I'll make you friggin 1st!

This kind of husband-wife relationship is bound to be doomed.

But we love each other eitherways, eh? ;)

How do we reverse this chemistry between us?


May 22, 2009

That See-through Cloud

As dictated by Faranza Syns

Phew. Who knew hip hop was real tough work?



My face is now as red as... well.. I was gonna say prunes, but that's for something else entirely.

I believe I'll bathe early today.

Hey, Tarr? I've found a new channel for catharsis.

I feel so loose-limbed and... ahem. I won't use the word orgasmic. A bit light-headed. It's most probably due to the excess of blood gushing inside my brain. No, that's just wrong. Well, don't expect me to be (bio)logically right. I do have a whole lot of bloody rushing through my ears right now. Too bad my ears can't do the cute thing and turn red.

My skin goes red fully. I don't blush. I wanna blush. Oh nevermind.

I want to go to Singapore. Mei Yin, take me away. I've my passport ready. All you have to do next is kidnap me from home.

I wish. I'll ask my mom, eh?

Two papers left. Can't believe how relieved I am. ... and I can't believe how long Chi Hoe's leg is.

During the exams:

Me: *writes answer frantically*
Chair: *nudge nudge*
Me: *pauses*
Chair: *pauses*
Me: *resumes answering*
Chair: *nudge nudge nudge*
Me: *pauses*
Chair: *nudge nudge NUDGE.*

And who else is the mastermind behind this dastardly disruptive-cum-endearing annoyance?

Chi Hoe with his long legs. But since the dear can dance, I forgive him.

And since we're on the topic of legs,

The boy with the sexiest legs.

From unequivocal, unimbiguous agreement,

And from consistent votes,

We, the powers that be (ha, ha) have dubbed the Guy With the Sexiest Legs,


Kessler Bin Sendeli!

Okay, granted, I've never seen his legs. I mean, puh-lease, I wasn't going to go watch the long jump event just to watch Kessler's legs is shorts.

But from the numerous mentions of his legs, I suppose it's worthy of being the "centrefold" of my blog for today.

Just wait. I'll sneak a picture of his legs into this blog soon.

(At least it's not as hairy as Daniel's. Now, that's a nightmare.)

I wonder if there'll be a time when you have to be un-original to be original.



As dictated by Faranza Syns

I have it bad.

I feel so anti-social, I'd put Freud to shame.

Okay, not to say that he was a super hermit. But you get what I'm trying to say.

I don't think I can speak to anyone anymore. It's like there's a blockage in my brain leading towards that little corner called "Social Graces".

Is it the diet? The stress? The exercising?

The exams?


Should I throw a dart on that? Because I really feel that they fall under the same group: AGONY.

I need to re-read Mirricae. I've lost my touch for humour.

When you start making unidentifiable sounds when there's a guy talking to you, that's when you know there's really no turning back.


Trying not to, and not succeeding trying not to do something (in simple english, the one where I don't twist the words, it means failing in that something that I set out to do) is really bad.

I nearly smacked Chi Hoe's butt.

I tried to resist.

He realised it, and he laughed.

And I laughed.

He was so adorable.

Maybe I should try to bite him, next.

Who knows what could happen?

High fives are not dead.


May 20, 2009

So Long.

As dictated by Faranza Syns

It's been two days. It's energetic, it's fun. For once, I don't feel bloated beyond belief. For once, I feel comfortable. More than usual. Heck, I never realised jumping could be so easy.

Yes, vague is fun. Because for once, I don't want to flaunt the truth.


Me: *unlocks door*

Jaz: What were you doing?

Me: Having sex. What else?

Jaz: *-insert unmentionable sound that is equivalent to "eww".-*


Shut the fuck up and just answer the paper.

That was really what I wanted to say to everyone.

Not only did they not respect the presence of a teacher in front (who was willing enough to step in for the missing teacher and handle our class), but they also had not even a smidgeon of respect for protocol.

Some people are trying to focus and answer the bloody questions.

In fact, some people are trying to focus and study.

If you wanna laugh your arse off, or talk about whatever the heck it was you wanted to do through the weekend, be my guest and hike your butt out of the room.

What's with shrieking like a banshee (whoever the heck you were)? And what's with laughing so loudly? Yeah, it's funny. But no need to alarm the whole world with a 10-on-the-Richter-scale earthquake.

Maybe it's because I was so quiet today that the noise suddenly felt so loud.

Who the heck cares now? The exams are over.

So you say.

Let's play doctor.


May 19, 2009

You're One Interesting Specimen, Love.

As dictated by Faranza Syns

What happened:

Cik Rahayu went "Ha, manjanyaaaaaa!" at me. I think it was because she caught me smacking Moky's butt when she -- Cik Rahayu, that is-- walked out the elevator. Seriously, she doesn't want to see me hugging Juls from the back just a few minutes before. Because seriously, I think I'd get fired on the spot.

I figured out that Kessler and Mei Yin like to play footie under the table. Because I catch them complaining good-humouredly to each other about their legs often enough. Yes, people, PM me for more info.

Kessler is the kind of person who, in real life, really uses the sound "Hmm?" and even "mmmhmm". It's super endearing for some reason. And you know, if you're not prepared about a topic, don't discuss it with him. Especially if he is prepared. Because he's going to confuse you silly; you'll never know when he's pulling your leg, and when he's not.

Teacher's are very... sporting. Namely Pn Siti Marani, Pn Hasliza and even Pn Jalilah. For those of you who seem to conveniently disappear during our Civic classes, no, I didn't misspell the name. That last person on that list is our subject teacher. Yes, it's shocking when no one bothered to find out her name, except for me.

Form 2 boys are really going to get it from me when I step down as a prefect.

It's super depressing when you have a cousin who looks like the person you are lusting over. Super. Depressing.

The plan was to let me down gently. I know.


May 18, 2009


As dictated by Faranza Syns

Being deliriously happy that you changed your desk with someone else's without them knowing is silly.

Holding back a thousand winces per step whenever you walk is false pride.

Staring at the nearly-bare board and thinking of dumping all the work on someone else is irresponsible.

Acting cheerfully obtuse when you know people just want you to shut up is really a sign of desperation.

Snapping at someone you love is not enough to make them hate you.

Lying to someone you admire isn't going to make things better.

Having his number and not calling him is the smart choice.

Now that I look back, how I wish I'd never used my voice.

False bravado is his shield.


May 17, 2009

Virgins and Nots.

As dictated by Faranza Syns

Two days ago, someone asked me if I was a virgin.

If it were a girl, I would've joked about it. Heck, if a hot guy asked, I would have joked about it, too. I mean, puh-lease, am I supposed to actually answer that, and at the same time feel embarrassed or proud? Pfft. Virginity's never been an issue in my life. Ahem.

But anyways, the person who asked me was apparently a virgin-guy. It basically means a guy who's never seen/had/encountered any action in his life, up to his oh-so-great age of 18. Ahem.

HIM: Are you a vergin?

At that point, I was already annoyed like hell due to his very, very bad english, and his very, very direct proposition of being my boyfriend (which is kinda silly, because who knows if I run a gigolo ring or something? I'd trick him into joining, except I'd only be partial to well-spoken english hotties. Okay, why are we discussing this?) He starts up being mushy with a "I wanna stay with you" line. Which was supposed to be "I just wanna be with you." Trust that guy to ruin a good cliche.

I was tactful since the beginning, acting like some honorary step-sister who had a younger brother who's a bit too ahem to think straight. Not to mention naively stupid. I said, "let's just be friends first." Because hey, there's practically sub-zero chance for it to develop into anything beyond acquaintanceship. So I masterfully dodged his questions, and the "OMG it was so expected I didn't bat an eyelid" request of seeing my picture. Ahem, I acted like a prude up till that question.

But when he came to the "V" question, I was wryly smiling at how silly this guy was being. It's not like I haven't heard of him. One of his "less than three days" girlfriends had told me about him, and naturally I managed to avoid him up till then. He seems to be hung up over the question of virginity. And he seems to be displaying his own virginity with quite some measure of pride, too. It's either he's lying about it just to butter girls up, or he's prepared to use it for bartering.

Who knows the twisted mind of a male-virgin?

Him: Anna...
Him: vergin?

Oh, COME ON. That doesn't even pass off as a question, for crying out loud.

Me: What kind of question is that?
Me: lol
Me: Why? Are you?

Him: Yea

Me: Well, I'm not answering that. It's a personal question

Him: No, u said we are friends.

At this point, what I really wanted to say was "Well, true enough. I don't see how it would matter, since we won't be having sex and you won't be finding out anytime soon."

But tactful me stayed tactful.

Me: Yeah. Lol. Friends don't entirely ask each other that kind of question.

Him: Need to know
Him: and cuz most girls I meet them not vergin

Me: Does it make a difference if they're a virgin or not?

Him: No.
Him: But now I know you're not.

Me: I won't even respond to that guess.

Though I doubt he was trying to trick me into anything. I was in half a mind to stamp him off as stupid, idiotic and sloth-slow.

Seriously, if a guy asked me one more time if I were a virgin, I'll just say "Last time I checked, I think I still had my hymen intact. Why? Wanna see?"

Because the question itself is stupid and senseless and seriously, what I said is true: it's not like we're about to have sex and you're gonna find out, so drop it.

Geeez, and I thought the only time I'd have to talk about virginity is with a certain someone whom I'll just just give the psedonym "Innocent".

*Sigh* Guys, seriously. One day, a girl is gonna counter you by saying "Are YOU a virgin?" and let's see you lie to her as she stares you down.

So, zip it, skippy, if you wanna stay in your loved-one's good graces.

If you don't touch the topic, I think I can guarantee a 90% chance of it never being an issue.

(Girls know how notorious some guys can be, so really, they don't expect anything more than a non-virgin.)

To those of you who want a virgin husband, you might have a long wait. They're scarce, and really, how are you supposed to find out? Posting up an Ad would be hilarious and interesting. Call me up when you decide to do it.

I need a real good laugh. And who knows? It might just work. ;)


Jaz: Ngah, do this linear equation. I couldn't get the answer.

Me: *grabs paper. scribbles.*

After half a minute,

Me: There. Got it. It's C.


Me: What? I just did this.


Me: ... (3/2)a minus (4/2)a is equals to -(1/2)a


Me: What's your mistake?

(3/2)a - 2a = (1/2)a

Me: ... Oi, how can 3/2 minus 2 become 1/2?

Jaz: BUT--






This is a very normal scenario, mind. Usually, I answer coolly and show her how to answer it. But since I felt like it, I rose my voice.

It's normal. A sign of sibling affection, if you will.


God knows she started it first.

*Note: My sister's no idiot in maths. She once represented the state for an international Math event. She was just PO-ed that I got one small portion of the otherwise very tough question right. I love it when I beat her. Shows that there's still a God.


Tarrant: Oh, and I'm at an Anime Marathon. And our library has over 700GB of anime.

Me: Good Gawd, the fact that you have time to indulge in that kind of marathon is a big insult to my supposedly carefree life.

Because, really, I thought Tarrant was supposed to be the harried and haggard one? The one who's not supposed to have time to even care about his abundance of pimples anymore (no, don't kill me, Tarr, I know your skin's not that bad. It's just a metaphor) because he's too busy finishing assignments? I thought he was supposed to be the one with the stick up his heinie?

But he's currently enjoying himself immensely.

Why me?

There's something awfully wrong here.


I have his number,
But I'm not gonna call.

What? Do you want me to willingly murder my rep?

Don't be a baby;
Remember what you told me.



As dictated by Faranza Syns

Moky's blog:

...and why do people love Hana? (to the extent of wanting to marry her).


Thank you, sweetums. =3

I'd marry you too, one day, but you're currently married to my ex-husband, so it might get a little bit complicated. Haha.

I'll be that symphony you can listen to all night long.


May 16, 2009


As dictated by Faranza Syns

"....every step people open...." a direct translation from "membuka langkah."

I'm sorry, but my brain can't accept that. Due to that phrase, my brain went into seizure and I don't think it's ever going to recover.

A maiming of the english language rarely leaves me unscathed.


I am slinking off to my new heaven-cum-haven: changing the theme of my phone every other second. It's like a new drug no one warned me about.

Basically my phone looks like this now. x3

But I couldn't decide if I should switch to

The theme's red, baybeh!

At one point in the middle of my spree, I wanted to use this:

But it's a WM6 theme.

The disappointment nearly made me cry.

So did this:


and this:

Although this one up here did make it, and it looks presentable on my phone, the bars turned black, and the colour goes one tad darker. So I think I'll use this one once in a while.

This one was made from a photo. A play on light and exposure. I'll use that one, one day.

Super cute, eh?

When I get to change phones, and manage to coerce dad to get me one with a white skin, I'll use this. But heck, if I get dad's hand-me-downs, that's fine. It'll already be time for that catchphrase to really apply to me anyways.

And maybe one day *blushes coyly* this one, too.


A Never Gonna Happen scenario if I've ever seen one.

But for now I'll settle for the first one, up there. The name is Techno Rose. Apropos? Deff.

I so love it that my phone has a keyboard.


I wonder why some guys are prettier than girls? It's like someone up there got mad at us women and decided to give the pretty genes to the guys.

Or maybe the male who contributed the sperm during reproduction really didn't have that strong a sperm.

Or maybe I'm just screwing my mind trying to unravel this pointless issue.

Moky: I wanna be like Miyavi laaaaaaaaaaa

Well, yes, sure you can. But first, lose the breasts, acquire a penis, scrotum and all, shed those hips, shrink that butt, and pad those shoulders.

Then, you're good to go.

Moky, seriously, you're gonna be wayyy hotter than Miyavi. Despite the lack of media coverage.

And of course, you're welcome on the subject of me 'temaning' you. ;)

Shut up and put your money where your mouth is.


Thousand Words

As dictated by Faranza Syns

More than a thousand words worth.

Allow me my fancies, please.


Talked to Ruz.
Me: Oh, we did animations and stuff. At first it was like "wow!", but after a while, it got sorta like "ahh..."

Ruz: Oh...

Me: But the guys' work was awesome.

Ruz: They're guys.

Me: Mmm yeah.

Ruz: They're different than us. We think of... shopping and sex.

I suppose that was the most interesting conversation I had today. And to tell the truth, there's nothing much to blog about today. Sadly.


And he waited and waited.


And it was raining, I remember. Boy, was it a deluge.


May 14, 2009


As dictated by Faranza Syns

I've just found out that sitting hunched over a desk that's one foot too short for you comes with dire consequences. Very dire consequences.

I think I've injured my spine from all the hunching. Around ... say... 5 hours a day. And what's better is that I have to endure this for another... say... two weeks? Truly, this is some sort of penance, isn't it? Some sort of cruel punishment for a certain something I've done unwittingly before. I can probably list a few in the offing, something straight off the top of my head, but I don't think it's going to register from my head to my fingers, you know. Spinal problem and all.


Yesterday, as per usual, I was watching over the moving of the students of the '1st Floor Benteng' area. As I was shouting my arse off trying to get the students to walk two by two (which never saw much success, since I was dealing with idiots, as it was), a few of the male students walked in front of me, smiling in that annoyingly placating way, in that yes-I'm-doing-what you-don't- want-me-to-do-but- I'll-do-it-anyway-so-be-appeased-with-this-smile look. It irked me since these boys were the exact people who drove me and Aly near homicidal.

Then, as they walked by me, blase as to the fact that they were defying me, one of them shot me another of those annoying smiles. Then, out of nowhere, he said, nodding, "I believe I can fly."

Some primal instinct in me could not make my whiplash-quick reply any better: "Go die."

Was he an idiot, or was that intentional?

But either ways, it managed to make me laugh, despite the annoyance that made me want to smack their heads. They were really not so stupid. It's just that 'naaaawwww, I ain't nobody stewpid' attitude they have about them. But come to think of it, since I've been taking care of the 1st Floor Benteng area, a good deal of interesting things, small things, have occured, making me laugh.

And it'sno tough feat to do that, really. But a feat I appreciate nonetheless. I might look like I have a ten-inch branch shoved up my heinie when I am on duty, but really, I'm just red-blooded and a chameleon.

And who's to deny themselves the pleasure of a good laugh? Eventhough they have 2 weeks of torture to go through, still?

Take a look in the mirror.
No, that's not you.


May 13, 2009


As dictated by Faranza Syns

I don't think I'll ever be able to debate against Josephine and Joshua with a straight face anymore. I'd probably end up giving them the cut direct, or maybe burst out laughing on one of their POI's.

Thank you so much, dear.

I now share a love-hate familiarity with the once-wonderfully-novel experience of "dying with mortification due to a jest that was supposed to stay a jest".

A change of prayers: I don't want to debate against S.A.B.

And I thought my original obsession on the idea of not debating against Joshua was harrying.

Jump in my painted windows,
Baby, let's go,
My eyes look like picasso,
Let it all go.


May 11, 2009

See My Soul

As dictated by Faranza Syns

Something uber crazy and head-turning happened today. Heck, due to that happening, I couldn't even focus during BM. My treacherous mind went to lala-land and objected crassly on coming back. When I finished my first essay, I had to cringe-- damn, it was like I translated the whole thing in my head from English to BM and I just wrote everything down with a vacant mind.


As she approached the grill gate, her eyes caught sight of the approaching posse of males with dastardly intent in their eyes.

She hurried her steps, propelled by the ingrained sense of right and wrong. And the boys were about to perform a serious transgression she was never quick to forgive.

They were late. There was no way in hell, heaven, earth or the Milky Way that she was going to allow them to walk through the metal-grill gates, all hunky-dory like they actually deserved to walk through the gates.

Acting on quick efficiency, she grabbed the grill gates and pulled them closer together. The loud, ear-tearing screech of protest from the grill as it was pulled to close was ignored steadfastly. She couldn't care less if people went deaf in the process-- as long as she did her job, she was happy enough.

With a pleased smile, she watched as one by one, members of the posse broke away from the crowd, realising that their attempt was futile, especially against someone as hard-headed and blatantly cold as the monster guarding the gates. They retraced their steps and used the designated way for latecomers, not up to such an annoyance so early in the morning.

But not all of them were smart enough for that.

Two people stayed obtusely ignorant of the threat of the girl guarding the door and kept right on walking with their head high.

The girl stared. One guy caught her panicked attention. Heck, why was the guy idiotic enough to not follow his friends and scurry away? She closed the gate with a bang, holding it in place with her strong grasp.

Oh, she knew that guy, alright. Although she had two years on him, his near-juvenile exploits never escaped her. Of course, how the heck was it supposed to escape her when his friends had taunted her just a few weeks ago? Although, at the time, the guy had merely been an amused bystander, and on no accounts was involved with the taunting, she still felt his presence and it annoyed her that he wasn't even deeming it worthy to join his friends. But secretly, she was relieved that he had not been involved. God knew she would've punched him black and blue if he so much as insulted her. And who knew what scary things he would've done in retaliation.



Oh, who knew the extent of their cruelty?

"Open the grill," said he.

She gripped the grill tight, struggling to keep it closed as he pulled it apart. "No. You're a late- comer, right?" she asked. Against her baser instincts, she kept her voice light. It sounded as if she were merely enquiring, and not convicting them of murder with a word.

"I need to go to the toilet," he argued, still pulling the gate apart. Slowly, the grill gates inched apart. Desperate now, she grabbed the two parts of the gate with iron-hard grips. The gate opened up enough to allow the guy some space to move.

But oh heck, the girl's arm was blocking the way.

No obstacle was high enough for him. He rammed on, pushing against the girl's arm, gripping the arm tightly. "I need to go to the toilet," he insisted.

The girl struggled, as he kept on pushing. At first, the pain had not registered, but when it did, she looked at him. "Kenapa you kasar sangat dengan I?"

Why are you being so rough with me?

That seemed to have snapped him out of his bull-headed tenacity. He looked up, just as her arm slid away. The look on her face, in her eyes showed credulity and bewilderment. And something bizarrely akin to betrayal.

Why are being this way with me? I expected you to be better than this. Much, much better. This isn't the real you.

The message in her eyes seemed to hit him full-throttle.

He walked past her, turning to face her, his face a mask of remorse. "Sorry," he apologised, hands held palm-to-palm in a sign of apology. She kept her eyes on him, looking shell-shocked and hurt at his rough treatment.

As he kept on walking, trying to keep up with his friend, he kept on apologising. Every few step, he'd utter a word of apology.

When he rounded the corner and vanished from view, the girl's eyes widened with true bewilderment.

Did the notoriously rude male just apologize to her? More than once?

She laughed at the stupendous chain of events, still bemused.

Then, as moments passed, her laughter turned to that of pure unadulterated joy.

Hence, that explained just exactly why she was distracted throughout her Bahasa Malaysia exams.


Chi: Shucks, I knew that I shud've snatched your bro when I first met him

Me: I thought you hated him.

Chi: God, I lurrrve him because his skin was so white!

Me: Whoa, down, girl. I have light skin too. Do you lurrrve me? XD

Chi: Oh yeah... come to think of it, you're white too. Marry me, Farna and let's kick gravity's ass together.

Me: Haha. Let's let's. And there's no need to worry about babies. We can adopt. xD

Chi: Yeah. So cool that we don't have to worry about stretch marks and labour pains. Who cares what people think? We SO belong together.

See? Me and Chi. We SO belong together. Although, I'm sure our impending marriage would cause heart-attacks and hypertension.

This is the third fifth marriage proposal I've received so far. I'm kinda proud of the track record, although it's only with girls. Hah.

Me: See? I have charm.

Eugene: Your charm seems to only work on girls.

Me: Ouch.

I'll give you space,
And I won't be around when you figure out exactly what you asked for-


May 9, 2009

Our ride

As dictated by Faranza Syns

Me wanna huggies kissy Miss Von Von!

Thanks so much, love, for thy support. And many congratulations on making JPA! Will miss sending you random texts, when you leave. Eh, it seems that everyone I send random texts to have left (or will be leaving) Malaysia. This is so not fun.

Who else am I to squander my oh-so-little monies on? ;p


Youth, eh? It's like a riding the DNA Mixer. As you ascend slowly, you feel the adrenaline pumping through your veins. You grip tight, eager, bubbling over with anticipation, dread, and excitement. As it moves slowly, cogs turning, you shut your eyes tight... And it gathers momentum, and you open your lips and shout, scream your heart out. Scared, but exhilarated. The ride gets dizzying, and inevitably, your breath leaves you. And you scream, and scream and scream. Hoping for someone to save you, your grip on whatever you could reach turning your knuckles white. Wishing, wishing that the ride would end. End now. Please end now.

But as it slows to a crawl, you finally get a breather. You inhale, and your breath leaves you once again in spurts of laughter. And you wish it had not ended.

As you get off the ride, you stand back, staring up, biting your lip.

Maybe I'll take another ride.

Don't worry, love. You're not alone. I'll grab your hand, and I'll drag you along with me. We'll ride it till we lose our heads, lose our hearts. If I falter, it'll be your turn to push me onwards. We'll lean on each other for a while. The future will come soon enough. We'll stand alone soon enough. But for now, let's hold hands and ride this crazy ride together.

Because I want this memory.

If there are times that I don't want to ride our ride, scared and bitter, feeling the novelty fade, giving way to hard, cold reality, remind me once again what we've promised each other.

Before we grow up too fast, too soon, let's just enjoy our ride till the end, over and over again.

Remind me, remind me.

Because there are times when I forget, when I never actually meant to.


I got his wish. ;)

I wanna be played like a violin,
Make the strings taut with your fingertips.



As dictated by Faranza Syns

This fast yet torpid pace I'm going through isn't helping much.

"I won't be last."

Just stupid, dismal words, really. Because I don't feel it in my soul. It's like a wavering flame. It's so easy to reach out, make everyone else forget its existence.

Someone, grab me by the shoulders and tell me there's still a long way to go, and I can do it.

Because frankly, I'm tired sick of telling myself the same thing over and over again.

Sorry, Nana, if I back out on our deal. Between the two of us, we know who's gonna win now, don't we?

Go down with a scream.


May 5, 2009


As dictated by Faranza Syns

"From now on I'll call you Banana. Wheeee!"

-Jet, when he was being crazy.

I have many names now. And my dear blunt, to the point, utterly, painfully honest Jet had to come up with a new one.

Why Banana?

"It suits you."

NOT much of an explanation, mind.

Confession of the day:

First crush? Jason. Gah.

And so, we bid a final farewell.


May 4, 2009

Tagged because I read his blog. It's a curse.

As dictated by Faranza Syns

Rule #1:
If you open this you take it.

Rule #2:
You are NOT ALLOWED to explain ANYTHING unless someone messages you and asks.

Rule #3:
Tag 17 people.

Answer True or False

Q: Kissed someone on your friends list? F
Q: Been arrested? ...F
Q: Do you like someone? F
Q: Held a snake? F
Q: Been suspended from school? F
Q: Sang karaoke? F
Q: Done something you told yourself you wouldn't do? T
Q: Laughed until you started crying? T
Q: Caught a snowflake on your tongue? F
Q: Kissed in the rain? F
Q: Sang in the shower? T
Q: Sat on a roof top? T
Q: Been pushed into a pool with all your clothes on? T
Q: Broken a bone? F
Q: Shaved your head? F
Q: Played a prank on someone? T
Q: Shot a gun? F
Q: Donated Blood? F

Just be 100% truthful.


1. You hung out with? Afzan. Affairs are so exciting.
2. You texted? Erin. I live a sad existence.
3. You were in a car with? My whole family.
4. Went to the movies with? Amanda, TK, Akmar, and her sister.
5. Person you went to shop with? Do bookstores count? My sister.
6. You talked on the phone? K. And it's not Kah Mun.
7. Made you laugh? Zack Benedict.
8. You hugged? Tom


1. Sun or moon? Moon. It's more romantic and I don't get my eyeballs scorched by staring at it.
2. Winter or Fall? Me likey Autumn.
3. Left or Right? Right.
4. Sunny or rainy? Rainy. I'm hoping to kiss in the rain one day. Kissing under the sun is oh-so-common.
5. Where do you live? Geez, didn't you know? Planet Earth, of course, silly.
6. Club or pub? Read my lips: N-E-I-T-H-E-R.
7. Are there 1 or 2 people who you can always trust and rely on? Yes.
8. Do you want to get married? When the sun doesn't shine anymore, yes.
9. Do you twirl your spaghetti or cut it? I don't twirl (except when dancing), but I don't cut, too. Twirl it is, then.
10. What time is it? 7.15 p.m. here where I am. Ha.
11. Are you afraid of commitment? No. I just don't like it too much, that's all.
12. What is your greatest hope/wish? He will one day look at me the same.
13. Do you cook? Yes, although my repertoire of dishes is painfully limited.
14. Current mood? Sombrely amused.


1. Kissed someone? Tom
2. Sang? Out loud.
3. Listened to music? The joys of an MP3 player.
4. Danced? Yeap.
5. Cried? ... Am I supposed to actually answer truthfully?
6. Liked someone you can't? Yes.


1.Who was your first prom date? Ah, prom. I'll tell you once it's over.
2. Who was your first roommate? My brother?
3. What alcoholic beverage did you drink when you got drunk the first time? This is a question I deign unworthy of an answer.
5. What was your first car? I doubt I'll get it anytime soon, so I don't know.
6. When did you go to your first funeral and viewing? When I was six.
8. Who was your first grade teacher? Pn Laila. She is fan-freakin-tastic.
9. Where did you go on your first ride on an airplane? Langkawi, when I was in mummy's tummy.
10. When you snuck out of your house for the first time, who was it with? Ames. Though I doubt she realised we were sneaking out.
11. Who was your first Best Friend? Fatin Nabillah.
12. Who is your best friend? Since your question has no relation to "firsts", I am not answering it.
14. Who is the first person you call when you have a bad day? I have phone phobia. I don't call people. Except when it's a matter of life and death. Calling K was a matter of life and death. Disregard the fact that he's my sweetie.
15. Who's wedding were you in the first time you were a Bridesmaid or groomsman?... I only got up to flower-girl and that was a distant relation's wedding.
16. What's the first thing you did when you got up this morning? Yelling, "Yes, Ma, I'm awake!" and falling right back to sleep.
19. First tattoo or piercing? I don't want to suffer when I get an MRI. No tattoos. But maybe a piercing.
20. First celebrity crush? ... Josh Hartnett. Or Christian Bale. Can't decide.
22. First crush? And his name, sadly, I will not reveal.


Pei Sun
Timothy (if he ever reads this. Very doubtful)
Wei Jie
E Von


Internet's lousy. TMNet should be sued. But dad adamantly ignores me. I suppose he's not a true dad if he listens to the rubbish I prodigiously spout.

Gays turn me on. For some reason. Is anyone gay? I feel the need to be turned on.

The Jai Ho video with the PCD in it... the choreography (the dancing parts, that is)... reminded me of when the Sims dance.

Me: OMG, there go the Sims!
Jaz: WTH.
Me: ... Oh, I know why! It's because they dance with their thighs apart.

It's very risque when you dance half-naked, but very funny when you dance Bollywood-like.

I finally finished the probate-prefect pairing. Yay. Why don't I seem happy, you ask? Because I still have EdBoard work chewing my arse. And it's painfully aggravating.

Internet is still not cooperating. Nevermind. I can talk nonsense for hours on end.

I feel like confessing undying love to someone. But that would constitute cheating on my affairs. The irony of cheating on my affairs makes me chuckle. The work-load's getting to me, you can tell.

Coach just texted back: training's on again. Heck, Coach. I missed you.

I missed out someone on my list. Redo.

I miss Tom. That bugger. I still look out for his mails, but it's pretty hopeless. I feel like pranking him. Help. Caution: obsession.

I swallowed a dust bunny. It's no fun.

I want my money back.

Calluses are a pain in the arse. Especially if they're on the soles of your feet. Darn, Taekwondo.

I have one very persistent blister on my finger.

I read Tarrant's randomly long post that that was inspired by his boredom.

I'm sorry, but I stopped half-way, Tarr. I'll read it once I'm in a more coherent state of mind.

I'll save this draft in a Word Doc and probably post it after Diagnostics.

But we all know it's going to be sooner than that.

End time: 8.52 p.m., Sunday, 3 May.

Confession time!

I used to have a crush on Haseef.

Tell me this shocks someone, because I hate to have been so transparent. xD

Yay, this is so fun. I think I'll start confessing new things post-ly (every post)

My brother's in my room. God know's what he's doing there. I think I'll go smack him on the head. Toodles!

I'm just a little bit caught in the middle.


May 3, 2009


As dictated by Faranza Syns

Post date: 03/06/09

How could you fall in love with a dream? It's practically stupid.

But I suppose it keeps me alive. And hey, anything that keeps me alive is good enough for me.

Shall I tell, shall I tell?

I think it started with Julia. Mind, this is just a dream, alright? It happened in class. I turned around, and she said that a guy--whose name I've conveniently forgotten, except for the fact that it has the letter S, I, L, B, and A. Basil? Who knows-- she knows has a friend who's interested in me.

Somehow, in that dream, I just dismissed the fact.

And let's move to the next scene shall we?

I was in a hall, an auditorium full of people. The lights were bright on the stage, the decorations a deep velvety red. It didn't look gaudy-- it looked extravagant.

Somehow, I felt like I was in St. John again. Please don't ask me why I thought that.

The music around me rose to a roaring, spirit-lifting crescendo. I looked around, and spotted a whole orchestra on the balcony above the stage. The light flickered, then shone steadily, its intensity increasing as the orchestra soared to heavenly heights.

And then, just as quickly, the music stopped, and I was left breathless as various voices shouted out approval, and a desperate call for an encore.

I just sat and smiled.

Then, "Farhana! Farhana!"

I twisted around, and looked behind, knees on my seat. "Yeap?"

Funnily, behind me, there were no more seats. Just the floor at the bottom. And an escalator. Yes, super weird.

"Hey!" a guy called out. Apparently there was a whole group of them at the bottom.

And lookie. His name had the aforementioned letters. And did I mention he looked rather buff? And oh-so-super hot?

And somehow then, I got excited and talked eagerly with him.

Until he and some of his friends mentioned that one of the guys fancied me. That's when the panic set in. They motioned with their hands at one of the guys who'd stood by the whole time, watching quietly as his friends spoke. He looked like... I don't want to say. But when I saw him, the panic I felt suddenly spiked. All that I could think about was running. Just running.

I spotted someone walking past them. And since the guy looked a lot like Shane, I grabbed that like a life-line. "Shane! Shane!" I shouted, and chased the guy, running away from B,A,S,I,L and his friends. Especially from the fact that someone fancied me.

And it turned out that the guy that looked like Shane wasn't Shane at all. And somehow, a gaggle of girls who seemed to have followed me as I chased "Shane" laughed at me. Laughed and laughed, screaming about how stupid this whole thing was. But I kept running. Into stairwells, down the stairs, up the stairs, into elevators. Until I ran out of breath and sat a stairwell, crying.

Don't ask me why. I was just scared. And desperate.

Then, when my tears were spent, I escaped the stairwell, and exit the building. As I was walking outside, I stumbled across the him. Somehow, after crying it all out, it didn't feel quite as scary, seeing him again.

He bent and helped me up, still silent. But he smiled. Not that scary, all-too-charming smile. But a kind smile that reflected his kind spirit.

At first I was a little repelled. I have no recollection why. But when he (somewhere along the line) took off his shirt to perform some sort of physical labour, all misgivings were forgotten.

He looked delish.

But anyways, somehow, right then, away from his friends, he looked different. And really, the notion wasn't entirely so scary anymore. Silent, he walked with me as I scouted for Ma's car.

I looked up at him, and asked his name.

His lips moved to form the sound. And I smiled wider.

He smiled as well.

And I turned, waved and ran towards Ma's car. I jumped in, and my heart was...

All I could do was smile.

Until I realised that I hadn't gotten any way to contact him. And I panicked again.

And then he was there, at the door, handing me my bottle (oh god, dear trusted bottle, why did you appear in my dream as well?) and there, stuck on the cap was a taped note.

Someone beside me gasped "His number!"

And it turned out, yes, it did contain his number.

The car began to move and I waved. He waved, too, smiling.

And then, as I reached home, I waited a long time until I remembered to send him a text.

And just as I was about to do just that, someone rudely woke me up from my dream.

Thus, the dream ended there.

Haha, I'm so disgusting. So fanciful, and so hopeful.

Come to think of it, this is the kind of thing I want happening at least once in my high-school life. I don't want forever-after. I don't want fairytales or happy-endings. I just want to look back and remember. I want to look back and laugh at this, knowing that it happened.

I want to feel this once. Just once.

But I suppose that's asking for too much.

Focus, focus. SPM is near.

So's the end of the year.

I've been feeling sappy so frequently, it's scaring me.

But at least the thought of him makes me smile.

Oh, and let's not forget my ex-boss.

Me: Zi Kannnnnnnnnnnnng~

ZK: Yes, Faraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa?

Me: Fara? Haha. Naw, just wanted to disturb you. You busy?

ZK: Faranza. Haha. Yeah. Extremely. Have not been sleeping for nights

Me: Exams?

ZK: No, assignment.

Me: Oh. wow.

ZK: Haha.

Me: omg, I will now go kill myself for hogging your precious time.

ZK: Haha. I know you're very freeeeeeeeeeee

Me: hoho. True, true.

ZK: Go and read newspapers. HAHA

Me: Dun wannaaaaaaaa. Lol, but nvm, I'll leave you alone. For now. Ahem. go go, Zi Kang! I will root for you from here xD

ZK: Thanks. I shall flirt with you once I'm free.

Me: Looking forward to it.

You STILL owe me a candle-light dinner, Zi Kang.

He showed me a model that he made. Awh, I am so freakin' proud of you, Zi (which is better than just calling you Kang-Kang). It was beautiful. *jumps and claps*

Me: that is awe-bloody-some. omg, is it any wonder why I flirt with you? It was because I knew you were talented.

ZK: HAHA. Okay, we'll chat next time, ok?

Me: Wokays! Muahx! Bubye~

ZK: Muakkzzz!

Me: Haha!

Somehow, seeing my ex-boss giving me a virtual kiss was just too funny to contain.

All hail the Romeo wanna-be. ;)

Flirt with me soon. I'm just super bored.

And his name is...
Deep inside this tiny heart of mine.