Anyway, since I’d planned to share photos, I might as well show you how they went wrong.

I stopped trying when the tarts broke… should have known something was funny when the dough wouldn’t roll out properly. But then again, I wasn’t very patient taking them out either. It’s no wonder they broke as badly as they did. Here’s the whole process.

However, what it was lacking in looks, it made up in taste. Bearing that in mind, I’m going to give it another try tomorrow. Plus, there’s so much custard left over. >.>

And that would close the chapter of yet another baking disaster.

The music notes were easy, but forming a word was obviously not (it’s the ego I tell you). It made me waste four paperclips in the process… yes it made me, I didn’t do it intentionally.

The word “aelyn” is not that big, see those ruled paper lines? Yes, small. I plan to hook a jump ring to it and use it as a charm/pendant/key chain add-on…

Seriously though, can anyone be more bored?

/random blog topic.

Newly adopted, extremely angsty. And yes, referenced (and quite similar) to the character from Avatar: The Last Airbender. ♥

So, I took that digital vector, printed it out the best I could at such a low resolution, laminated it and then scrapbooked it for her.

The results:

On Flickr (has notes): Single Page, Details.

That done, I need to find other young children to spoil - my sister’s getting too old for this.

On the other hand, Maeve is alive again, with a brand new hard disk and all. Her screen is about to die anytime soon (because it turns red every now and then), but until then I shall continue using her. Right after I finish installing and downloading all those programs again…

Why can’t you forgive?

I wish you’d talk it out.

I wish you wouldn’t just let it go.

—

I realize that you need someone to talk to.

I realize you need to get it off your chest.

But I wonder if you realize how this will scar.

—

I hate that you gave me this memory.

I want you to take it back.

1. Upgraded from the 1 GB RAM to 2 GB ($130)
2. Upgraded the original 1.86 GHz core solo processor to a 2 GHz core duo ($125)
3. Fixed in a new connector to the adapter cable since it had problems charging (< $2)
4. Replaced adapter when it continued to fail to charge ($76)
5. Replaced it again when the one before short circuited within the first month ($90*)
6. Upgraded the previously 30-minute-life battery with one that lasts a little over 5 hours ($100)
7. Replaced the original DVD drive with a slot load. ($100)
8. Changed the keyboard pad just because (~$25)

* + S&H, the rest are without. All upgrades and replacements made by my brother.

Her modifications and upgrades shockingly amount to $150 more than the original selling price - that’s inclusive of the new hard disk drive that should be here in a week.

So now, I must wait - again, for her to be revived once more.

(Edit: Cool, look at the date posted. XP)

Anyway. I think I’ve found most of everything to preoccupy myself over the past two months or so: dramas, photography, mangas, books, movies, scrapbooking, flower pressing, origami, and very recently - exploring the art of papermaking. It’s amazing, I think, how easily I was able to move from one interest to the other. Explore, divulge, immerse, create - that was my mantra for the past few months. I have seen, read, learnt and did everything I could get my hands on.

It was liberating.

I mastered the art of avoidance; it’s a shame that reality eventually catches up though. Or else I’d find the next thing to occupy my mind with.

Edited, many times.

  It was awesome.

Just a while ago, some people came to visit. I wasn’t really in a sociable mood at the moment, so I was already dreading to make pleasantries. Turns out, the people in question were ones I particularly disliked making physical contact with (read: shaking hands, hugging, air kissing - as is the custom).

And so, I took my book and ran into the bathroom, locked the door and waited. Waited until I heard that they were about to leave. Came out, and then risked a James Bond move to hide behind my bedroom door and watch them leave.

There’s only a handful of people that I know, that I feel this way for. Being in such close proximity with them no matter how transient, feels weird. Uncomfortable, even.

So yes. On certain days, I don’t want my personal space invaded every time I need to greet people - even if they are just being sociable.

The task was simple: Find something in the magazine that called out to us - be it words, pictures or phrases, it didn’t matter. We cut them out into rectangles and squares (at least the best we could’ve without using a ruler and under scant daylight) and then arranged them together on a page, mixing our cut outs together.

The end result: a combination of both our personalities.

It was fun, I’m glad I got around to scan them.

My sister doesn’t indulge in art as my other sister and I do. She does have an artistic sense though, which is why I like involving her in creating something. and she was adorably shy at first at voicing out her ideas, letting me do most of the arranging. Then she opened up a little bit more and we worked together to complete a page.

Now, compare that with what I did by myself before we finished that page:

Bleak in comparison, isn’t it? The lines are more slanted too.

And there are times when a situation presents itself a great opportunity to reveal that little something. And you hesitate, not sure if you should or not.

You don’t.

But on some days, you let it out without warning with maybe just a slight bit of pre-thought that goes along the lines of “Oh, it’s okay to say this now”. Almost immediately (or much later), you regret it. Because it was once just between you and yourself and that knowledge was comforting.

You wouldn’t and don’t want them to repeat it to anyone else.

And when you realize this, it’s a little too late because the discussion is over. And because you run the risk of reminding them of it when they’ve possibly forgotten it.

It was over two years ago and we were close. We still are, actually. Maybe they remember, maybe they don’t. But maybe they do - it was something not so trivial. Regardless of the time span, it still makes me uncomfortable that they may know that part of me…

When positioning them, I’ve found it easier to iron them out between a few paper towels. Yes, iron. Strange as that proposition sounds, I can effectively arrange them the way that I want them to appear and even change their positions if, in case, I change my mind.

It probably also speeds up the pressing/drying process by evaporating some of the moisture. If you do attempt this, keep these in mind:

1. It works best with smaller, less bulkier flowers and leaves. I don’t recommend ironing a rose.
2. Remember to keep the heat at low-medium, or else you’ll end up turning them into charcoal. If they burn too quickly, consider layering the top with more paper towels.
3. If you’re going to use textured paper towels (like I have in that example), you’ll realize that the texture often transfers to the flowers. You can either avoid this, or use it to your advantage.
4. If the flowers stick to your paper towel, just iron over until they’re a bit more drier.
5. If they’re dry enough, they tend to curl. Place them in your book to flatten.

And since I don’t know if they’re done pressing, I just use this technique to flatten, position and partly dry them before placing them in an old book and let the rest be done naturally, albeit a little faster.

The silver ribbon that goes across the middle from the front to back is actually from an old birthday present; it effectively covers an ugly telephone icon on the front. The stickers are glow-in-the-dark ones that my friends and I obsess over. The letter “A” charm is one of the two that my sister and I bargained for at an exhibition a few years ago (both our names begin with A).

The shiny silver paper on the underside of the front and back covers (that you see in the fourth photo) is just more wrapping paper from past presents. The textured beige paper that you see in the second and third photos are actually cut pieces of sample wallpaper that my cousin and I collected in large amounts on a crazy whim from Office Depot over two years ago.

So while it doesn’t look like much, it has a lot of sentiment attached to it. Now you also know how much of a pack rat I am.

I don’t like it at all.

Yes, this whole time my eyeglasses has been sending discrete derogatory waves to my brain.

It explains everything.

… That was just an excuse, by the way. I’d rather not share, because then I’d have to attempt to be cryptic because I’m just that kind of person. They say ignorance is bliss, right? Well it’s only after you perfect it. The in-betweens are almost tortuous.

The visit, isn’t going as bad as I thought it would. There could be better days but that’s just life. As for what I was/am doing wrong, I haven’t been very successful considering how I gave in twice since the post was made. In retrospect, it’s probably not all that bad; old habits are hard to break and I think these things take time to get used to, to let go. Especially if it’s a very old habit.

The kittens have been growing up, obviously. They’re a little over a month old, can you believe it? I have tons of photos I want to share. Thankfully, Flickr Uploadr makes it easier to do so. Their eyes are changing color now, from blue to maybe orange, I think. I was hoping green, but… who knows. At the moment, it’s still at the transforming phase. Which looks beautiful.

What else? I don’t know, I guess this is just one of those fill-in posts.

I started this for fun, but then it got creepy towards the end because it actually made some sense. Anyway, rules!

1. Copy and paste the entire thing, but remove the music titles.
2. Open your music player, add all your music files.
3. Play your playlist at random and label each song as it comes.

» If someone says “is this okay?” you say,
Inside of You - Hoobastank (oh the perverseness…)

» How would you describe yourself?
Love Comes - The Posies (o_O I need to listen to this song…)

» What do you like in a guy/girl?
A Public Affair - Jessica Simpson (I really hope not)

» How do you feel today?
Licking Cream - Sevendust (LOL)

» What is your life’s purpose?
Enigma - Trapt

» What is your motto?
If I fall In love - J-shin (noo, now my secret’s out…!)

» What do your friends think of you?
Real Girl - Mutya Beuna (Apparently, you guys think I know exactly what I want)

» What do you think of your parents?
Kuolema Tekee Taiteilijan - Nightwish (It just had to be something incomprehensible.)

» What do you think about very often?
Ahora Es El Momento - Lorenzo (Trance music = love)

» What is 2 + 2?
All Good Things - Mandy Moore

» What do you think of your best friend?
Nothing’s Gonna Change My Love for You - Glenn Medeiros (This is really freaking me out now. Best friends, you know who you are.)

» What do you think of the person you like?
Beautiful Disaster - Jon McLaughlin (Crap. Only 17 but tired?)

» What is your life story?
Harry Potter Theme Song - Harry Potter (lmfao)

» What do you want to be when you grow up?
Angel’s Punishment - Lacuna Coil (WARRR DESTRUCTIONNN!)

» What do you think of when you see the person you like?
View from Heaven - Yellowcard (”Sometimes, I can’t believe you’re gone”)

» What will you dance to at your wedding?
Sexy Love Remix - Ne Yo Ft. Joe Budden (O_O. Oh dear, I have visions now.)

» What will they play at your funeral?
Naked - Avril Lavigne (nooooo!)

» What is your hobby/interest?
Easier to Run - Linkin Park (Shit, how accurate.)

» What is your biggest fear?
Unlike Me - Kate Havenik (”There are no guarantees in life..” Tammy, are you reading this? It’s all your fault!)

» What is your biggest secret?
Remember the Time - Michael Jackson (Whoops, those love affairs with the Egyptian people…)

» What do you think of your friends?
Shine On - Rascal Flatts (There you go people, SHINE ON!)

» What will you post this as?
Sometimes You Can’t Make it On Your Own - U2 (can I shorten this?)

Right, and I tag whoever agrees that 2+2 = all good things. Or, just anyone who wants to do this.

We asked if we could see him, not knowing truly how bad a condition he was in.

He was brought out by two young boys, walking ever so slowing, pausing for a bit and starting again. The moment we saw the sight of his frail, delicate profile, held up and being assisted to walk, we got up and helped him to his chair; the guilt of having made him go through all the trouble weighing heavily down on our hearts.

He looked at us, through those patient eyes, just as he had four years ago when he first met us; therein lay the evidence of the youth that was still him, despite the fact that the disease had weakened most of his body. When asked how he was doing, he smiled a shaky smile saying, “I’m living. A little painfully, but living just the same.”

It was heart-breaking.

We didn’t stay long, it was obvious he wasn’t at ease in the chair. We wished him well and thanked him for everything. As we were leaving, he turned to me, eyes glistening and smiled his shaky smile. “Good.”

I smiled back at him, knowing the significance of just that one word and knowing that it was enough to last a very long time.

Bubbles has given birth (again) to four kittens: two sets of twins. Possibly the most adorable kittens you’ve seen. Ever.

Naerii is pretty active and likes to wander, Iris likes to pose cutely. Angel is really shy and lonesome and Onyx likes following feet. They’re all very sociable - Iris and Onyx more than the others, and each adorably cute.

If you want to view larger, be warned: they redirect to Flickr.

The black ones are harder to photograph without proper lighting, but I shall (yes, I do say shall) keep trying.

Naerii has been given via the Internet to Leo. He’d have to deal with my sister on her ownership and Onyx would have been hypothetically given to Skye, if she weren’t so allergic.

Boy: I love you
Girl: …
Boy: I love you
Boy: and it drives me crazy
Girl: *speechless*
Boy: I don’t even know why I love you
Boy: I don’t even know if it’s love
Girl: *thoroughly confused now*

Let’s disregard whether or not the girl likes him back. And look at it from an outsider’s perspective.

Isn’t a bit disappointing and even a bit insulting to have a boy claim that he loves you and yet cannot state a reason why? Isn’t it odd, or is it just me? I’m not saying he should always have a reason, but wouldn’t it further add to the romance of the situation if he said something like “because you’re you” or something equally cliched and disgustingly lovey-dovey?

But then he’d be lying if he didn’t mean it.

Of course, there’s the way it was said too. As if there couldn’t have been a reason for him falling in love with you, like you were deficient in something. Or as if he was settling for less. If he loves her, shouldn’t he be able to at least give a reason why?

Now if that doesn’t throw the romance out of the declaration, I don’t know what does.

… Or am I taking it too far?

I make resolutions, I decide to turn over a new leaf. Months later, my resolve breaks. I repent, regret and vow never to do it again. Over and over, time and time again.

And I think, am I really this weak?

I need to stop this. I need… Him. I need His help. I need Him to help me. If He wills. And I need to make an effort to make the change myself. Asking Him for help is one thing. But it’s no use if I just sit there and wait for it to come. I’d have to work towards it, and if He wills it’ll happen. It must be a test of some kind.

The first step is to admit you have a problem. This is mine.

I cannot, for the life of me, remember ever creating a Xanga account. Judging by the username (that I refuse to share), it must have been years ago.

I have this funny pattern with online social applications. I will go ahead and create an account, add all of my friends, use all of the cool features that come with the account and then 2-3 months later, delete it. There’s something about having my profile details and photos on those networking sites that makes me feel uncomfortable (notice how it doesn’t bother me when it’s on my site). So Friendster, Bebo, Hi5 and Orkut have all been tried and bid farewell. Let’s see how long Facebook lasts.

Anyway. So, I reset my password to see what I had in there. And unsurprisingly, there was nothing. Zilch. I then proceeded to cancelling my account and then,

When I went to check to see if it was really asking me this, I was dutifully informed that it was indeed, legit:

Needless to say, I was amused. A little insulted but more amused than anything else.

Television and computer time goes down, meals are taken at precise hours. We’re up when the sun rises and in bed before twelve.

Every once in six months or so, we turn into hypocrites. For peace.

We’ll try not to laugh out loud or nap in the afternoon. We’ll spend more time “talking” instead. We’ll care about the plants outside, about that dusty shelf inside. We’ll be our best and do what we can to ease your stress.

Every once in six months or so, we’ll show you that we really do care.

For example: Eating chocolates cause pimple/acne outbreaks (which by the way, is not true nor has it been proven to be; Acne does not depend on diet {or sex and/or exercise})

Despite that, every time I eat that piece of chocolate, I brace myself for that pimple that could appear the next day.

When I eat cheese or fatty foods like pizza, I actually have visions of little fat molecules going and clogging my arteries. Observe:

In reality, it really depends on what kind of fat is in the food; saturated & trans (the bad) vs. poly/mono unsaturated (the good). And they don’t… lounge around like that. This is what it really looks like.

When I eat those olives, which I happen to adore, I visualize them chasing off that fat and clearing up those arteries.

They don’t really do that either. They are healthy in the way that they help lower bad cholesterol though.

The same goes for other foods. Too much oily food brings on a headache that is sometimes temporarily cured by drinking water. Again, no sound reasoning, only that it “clears” it away for a while.

Before I get carried away, do you guys have weird food associations that go against (or with) logic and literature?

mom: what did you to my computer
me: nothing! why?
mom: you removed Google
me: what no, just type it in
mom: no it’s not here *shows Quick Launch*
me: just click on the blue E, it’ll go there
mom: but where’s the orange google ¹ ?
me: …
me: you mean this one?
me:*drags FireFox down to Quick Launch*
mom: that’s it
me: you’ve always used the orange one?
mom: yeah why
me: nothing, from the start?
mom: mhmm *busily types in recipe sites*

¹ Firefox loads Google as its homepage, so she associates it with the browser.

And they really are called chicken lollipops and no amount of nick-naming will change it.

Edit on 26th February 2008: If you have this saved or copied somewhere before this edit date, don’t make it!! I missed out a line from my mom’s cookbook. She proof-read the final recipe just to be sure.

«|[æ·lyи]|» says:
conversation w/my mom just now

«|[æ·lyи]|» says:

mom: i’ll tell you a joke
mom: there’s an eagle
me and sister: yeah..
mom: you know what’s an eagle?
mom: *flaps hands in wing motion*
me and sister: no mom we don’t know, we’re illiterate *sarcasm*
mom: yeah
mom: so, what do you call a sick eagle *big grin*
me: my sister ¹
my sister: noo that’s not it
mom: ….
me: …
sister: …
mom: illegal!! (ill - eagle)
sister: HAHAHAH
me: o_o
sister: HAHA
sister: laugh asma laugh
me: haha?
sister: you laugh because it’s lame, not (because it’s) funny
sister: -_-

Leo says: LOLLLLLLL

«|[æ·lyи]|» says:
she heard it from a green and yellow worm on TV >.<

Leo says:
lmmfaoooooooo

«|[æ·lyи]|» says:
hahaha

Leo says:
thats so cute

¹ I’m always calling my sister every possible thing; it’s second nature now.

After securing an antivirus running, one of the first things I do - since I’ve done this often, is to start up Internet Explorer and download Firefox. MSN messenger comes next, because then I’d be able to complain to those willing to listen (Sorry Tammy, Leo) just how annoying the whole procedure is.

And while we’re on that, couldn’t Windows Live Messenger be downloaded as a simple file like it used to? WLInstaller that has to be downloaded takes its own precious time to install it instead. Mind you, it never took the first or even the second try to work. At least, not for me.

Next to be downloaded/installed are SpyderPro (which is immensely relieving since the bright LCD gets nauseating at times), Adobe Acrobat Reader, Microsoft Office, Photoshop, Itunes, and other programs I know I’d need but cannot for the life of me remember until I do.

I guess what irked me the most this time was the loss of feed subscriptions. I forgot to check to see if there was a way of backing them up so now I must go and find them again. Tiresome, but needed since it’s the only way I’ve been keeping track now-a-days.

That said, I hereby demand that everyone enable RSS feeds on their sites.

Wistful thinking. Luckily, it’s easier to find WordPress feeds even if they’re not visibly linked to by site owners. For that, Skye’s Fairy Ring came in handy - at least for those sites that had feeds to subscribe to.

Rilla’s post on Firefox add-ons, once found, was life saving in many ways. However, my paranoia eventually lead me to browse some 30 + pages to see if I missed something. So while I was at it, I made a similar list for future references.

And I want my MSN smilies back.

Four days after landing onto Indian soil, we got enrolled in school. I was in 8th grade, on new land and in an unfamiliar place. I was at school where most people knew each other from the time they were in Kindergarten. My classmates would stare at me uncomprehendingly whenever I spoke. The accent was hard to follow and the Hindi/Urdu or whatever it was I spoke back then was pitiful. Imagine someone speaking your native language in an entirely different accent.

Those three years in high school were extremely difficult and uncomfortable for me. Do you know how it is to feel like you don’t belong? I was a loser and a class certified nerd; the whole high school drama, status-quo. I hated not being able to relate with my classmates, often missing my old friends who knew me inside and out and didn’t mind the weirdness that was me. I missed the familiar carefree neighborhoods and hated being jailed up here. I made friends, yes but the friendships were short lived. I won’t deny that we had fun though - those were probably the best days of that time. However, towards the end of my last year there, I chose not to be included into “the group” and that decision of mine cost me the quality of friendship I had. We were still friends, but not as close. And somewhere along the way, I made a new friend - one who may have not been well liked but understood me, somehow. I lost contact with her a few years after graduation.

Then came Intermediate. Most but not all Indian schools have grades upto 10 and then graduation, unlike graduation at the 12 grade level. After 10th grade, there were two years of an “Intermediate” course where you decide between pursuing an “Engineering” field or one related to Science. At 14/15 years of age, it’s not an easy decision to make and as a result some of us (but not all) simply go along with whatever the parents say. It was during those two years that I met some of my closest friends to date. I learnt about true friendship and just how deep those roots can run. I even got better grades. But whenever there is a beginning there must be an end; we had to part ways because our choice in professions and universities did not coincide.

A few years ago, I followed my brother and left the country to pursue Medicine. It was an experience of it’s own kind. I met all kinds of people, people of different races and age who’ve travelled away from home to study (or have fun, whichever way you want to see it). Through all the hassles of managing rent, bills, makeshift cooking, fighting homesickness, and on top of all that - studying to get good grades, I developed a sense of independence. I think we all did, if we hadn’t already. I learnt about love, friendship, and most importantly people - the countless personalities that come with them; ever amusing, ever intriguing.

Granted, I still didn’t belong, but then none of us did and that knowledge in itself was comforting. It was probably my greatest learning experience. I matured in my thinking and my relatives till this date often comment on how I’ve “changed” since I got back. Whether it’s for the better or worse is still up for debate. I know I’m still naive in more than one aspect, but I know now when to be my age.

When I came back, many of my colleagues did too. The university that I went to enabled us to complete part of our schooling at different hospitals in countries that they allowed, although they preferred we chose the US. My family was in India and so my brother and I returned there.

Clinical rotations in India was fun. We had formed a small group but weren’t always the brightest of the bunch so were often made fun of by the local students and teachers. But even when the situation got serious, I always felt that it didn’t matter as much in the long run. I had great friends; we learned together and made the best of what we had.

For reasons I’m still unsure of, this close knit group that were us started to break apart. Call it personal differences or just the natural course of life. It saddens me even now when I think about it; there comes a time when no amount of words will repair the damage done because you’re simply at a point in life where it makes no difference. I only hope that one day, life would present us with an opportunity to make amends.

And now I’m at a stand still with only a hurdle to cross before the next most important part of my life begins. Not love - no, but finally practicing the profession I hold most dear. I’m excited and frightened at the same time. I want to be good, I want to succeed and yet I can’t stop thinking of how I would handle a situation for when I would be expected to account for a mistake that I will eventually do. It’s all a process of learning and while my fear of failure has held me back a few months, there’s a part of me that wants to embrace it still.

I can’t wait for this next chapter of my life to start. What else will life throw at me at a time when I’m finally beginning to feel comfortable in my own skin? What other kinds of people will I meet, what else will I learn? It’s simply a matter of time…

Yeah.

I had no idea! It was a shocking revelation, we were all like “Wow…”

It’s so cool to know though! I can just imagine how cool it was for my grandfather to have a dad who’s Arab, a mom who’s Indian and and to be part Arab and part Indian himself. That would make my mom 1/4th Arab and her children (us) 1/8th.

Or something. The only thing I’ve known in my life is to be Indian… Indian traditions, customs, etc. It’s so weird to learn about it now, and although it changes nothing, this little bit of information just blew me away.

… I was just thinking how I have friends all over the globe, it would be interesting to know your ancestry if you’d like to share. =)

I should completely do a map, like Skye’s… maybe on a smaller scale.

Would you rather be happy and live almost comfortably (or not at all) with a potential threat to your happiness - a happiness that may be ruined because you can’t make ends meet… or live pretty comfortably not having to worry about making ends meet and only hope that one day you’ll find that happiness even though you might not at all?

Would you live and hope that by following your heart, you’ll be able to find a way and work together to make a living, hoping to protect that happiness? Or hope that by following reason and logic, you’ll eventually learn to love the person you’ve chosen to spend the rest of your life with?

—

I’m helping a friend make a decision.

The answer may seem obvious - I know exactly what I would do - but in reality it proves to be harder than it should be. The mind keeps pushing logic that the heart continues to deny. Even harder when the relationship is at its early stages: where the feelings don’t run as deep but you’re running short of time, pressured by family ties to make a decision.

If you were in that position, how would you reason and decide?

The trouble with sleeping early is waking up at what should be an ungodly hour. The only sounds I hear are the hum of the fridge, the tick tock of a tiny pendulum clock, and the creaks of mom’s bed as she changes her position, unable to sleep.

This sadness is overwhelming.

My brother’s door opens, the old wood protesting loudly against the worn tiles. He moves past me and towards the bathroom. A few minutes later, he heads my way and rests a warm hand on my shoulder.

“You’re awake.”

“I know.”

“You were asleep.”

“I woke up.”

“Go back to sleep.”, he says as he walks away, back into his room.

—

It’s now 5:05 am.

The echoes of his voice still resound in my head.

If it were only that easy, I think.

You allow its tempo to pulse through you - countless instruments that you don’t know the name of. It ignites and flares up in heated waves that ascend and then spiral down out of control only to lift you back up so high that you wish you could just keep soaring, never having to stop.

The music slows and there’s a pause. You hear that voice you love. It flows so easily and sings like you never could but you try anyway.

Suddenly it’s you on that stage, in front of all those people, rocking that crowd.

You feel the music pulse through your veins, spreading like wild fire as you let it rock your chest. You search deep inside and find the voice you know is there. You pull it with you as you belt out the lyrics that seem to be made for you.

You’re on that stage and you’re rocking that crowd.

You’re almost to the end now, and the crowd knows it. Just as you are about to sing the last verse, the music suddenly stops. It sweeps back up your veins, hard and fast. And then it’s gone.

“Maybe, you shouldn’t sing…” soft brown eyes meet your own, trying but failing to conceal the amusement that lurks within.

Embarrassment floods you and blood rushes up your neck as you take in other pairs of brown eyes, similar to your own, looking at you with identical expressions on their faces.

Red-faced, you turn away to look at the screen in front of you. That horrid essay is still there, awaiting completion. You glare at those words, daring them to make fun of you, too.

The clickity-clack of the keyboard soon accompanies the music in your ears. You reach forward and turn down the volume, just in case.

“ASMA COME LOOK AT THIS CREATURE!!!”

… when she first saw him upside down, from her position on the bed.

I made him climb onto a white paper so I can take photos. He’s such adorable cutesy little thing; a bit of a crab, a bit of a scorpion in him. Fast too.
 
He’s kind of shy, and probably a bit paranoid. If you came too close, he would draw up his pincers and gear up into attack mode. He never took the offensive though, he knows his friends. *pats him*

I’m calling him my pincer buddy, my sister though… insists on naming him “Scorpy”, or “Scorpie”… whatever.

This is why I find him so adorable:

We nearly killed him o_o. He went under the chair leg (or so I thought) and we tried to move the chair away carefully but failed (my sister was sitting on it). I thought he was squished for sure. Surprisingly, he wasn’t even there when we checked, but far away.

Eventually, I had to let him go home to his family and kids; my sister kept guilt-tripping me that I was torturing him with the white paper…

Edit: A small collage using the other photos I took of him.

The first night, we checked the main gate (from the window, we didn’t dare go out) to find it swinging wide open into the night.

Being the night owl that I am, it freaks me out. There have been times when I’ve heard a door handle being tried or a body pushing against it to be opened (we have this kind, our house is pretty old). Depending on who’s doing a night-out, either me or my baby sister wake my mom up, and we turn on all the lights and the T.V. at an attempt to drive him away. It usually does.

A month before my brother came back, we woke up one morning to find two of our windows shattered by a brick. Luckily, the room was unused and so was locked and dead bolted away from the rest of the house. Plus, all the windows have burglar bars.

But this morning, somewhere around 12 midday, in broad daylight, we hear a crash. And then this:

Same room, third window. This time, we filed a police complaint. A sole policeman came to investigate, found someone lurking by (a homeless man, drunk and mentally unstable), roughened him up a bit and left him with a warning and us with a promise that he’ll find the culprit if it happens again.

Whether or not it was the intruder, or someone completely unrelated remains a mystery as does his identity.

I put them together in the process that they were taken and here they are:

I actually have the psd for the… 2nd screenshot in the 2nd row of Entula En’s design progress. I plan to turn it into a premade in the future.

Does anyone know how to use php includes in a wordpress post? or know of a plugin that works? I’ve tried two of them - runPHP and something else, I can’t remember but it was the first one that I tried… neither worked. Either that or I failed to understand how to use them.

Say hello to the newest addition to the English dictionary, Bleaf: a curious amalgam of blind and deaf, often used in times of extreme frustration.

Real life scenario, bless my baby sister.

Leo: leo is short, simple, and to the point
«|[æ·lyи]|»: i like shadow
Leo: what the hell is an aelyn though?
«|[æ·lyи]|»: LOL
Leo: yes weve established that
«|[æ·lyи]|»: aelyn is alien spelt wrong
«|[æ·lyи]|»: and pronounced even wronger
«|[æ·lyи]|»: .. but i made that connection after i made up that name
Leo: wait so its ayyy leeen?
«|[æ·lyи]|»: nooooo it’s aylin
Leo:
«|[æ·lyи]|»: how do you say it?!? 0_0
Leo: ive been saying it as ayy leeeeen
«|[æ·lyи]|»: 0_0
«|[æ·lyи]|»: like, aileen
Leo: yeah
«|[æ·lyи]|»: at least it’s not.. ai-line
Leo: LOOOOOOOOOOOOOLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL
Leo: a line
Leo: LMMFAO
Leo: ay leeeeeen
Leo: its so you
«|[æ·lyи]|»: aww then say it that way hehe
Leo: i will

Ah. I actually have a friend who pronounces it like “alien” and have been teased for it. The foot, because I find it infinitely amusing to see my toes poking out from anywhere, like from under the comforter here.

The rules:

1. Link to your tagger and post these rules.
2. Share 7 facts about yourself: some random, some weird.
3. Tag 7 people at the end of your post and list their names and link to them.
4. Let them know they’ve been tagged by leaving a comment at their blog.

The facts:

1. When I was a kid, I used to squish ants just so I could play house with them. I’d draw the detailed inside of a two-story house, take my half-dead, slow-moving ant and make it climb up and down the stairs. When it died, I’d squish another.
2. A pretty purple pen was once my sole source of motivation to study after days of procrastination.
3. I fear lizards. I fear wall lizards even more because there’s no telling when gravity will avenge them and I pray I won’t be anywhere near when that happens. And it’s not so much because they’re creepy-crawly but because when they move, you can actually see their flesh moving and shifting. *shudders*
4. I had my patience tested while sorting out tiny multicolored beads that I accidentally knocked over. I broomed them all into a corner and left them there. When I had time, I would prop up a pillow on the floor and sort. It took a week.
5. I don’t know why anyone would like lavender, it so reminiscent of cardamom that I don’t see the appeal.
6. I can’t sleep on my back. Every time I try, it feels as if I’m being suffocated. That said, I need three pillows to sleep comfortably: two under my head and one to hug.
7. I can’t drink pineapple juice or eat its slices. There’s something about it that cuts my tongue and burns my throat.

And I tag: Tammy, Leo (Yes, you’ve been tagged twice), Faye, April, Camlinh and Elena and any one else that reads it since I’m running low on blog buddies.

And this was not where I offered information and she reiterated. In fact, it was the other way around. I had long stopped saying “Ooo me too” because it sounded fake even to me despite the fact that it was the truth.

And while I love being able to relate, I don’t know if I should find this amazing or a little freaky. Can there really be complete strangers out there who are so similar to you in not just hobbies or likes, but in things that neither can control?

I’m tired of keeping it together, of rearranging my features in attempts to appear, act, behave and talk normally. So tired. It would be easier if I really was the someone they believe me to be: so carefully put together and delicately balanced. Robotic, you mean.

This masquerade has proved it’s worth and fooled many. As much as I want release, I know I can’t. Maybe later. I just need to last a little longer.

For the smile.

Reading is a hobby of mine that people in real life are surprised to discover, if at all they do. It’s one of those hobbies that I pursue in secrecy, mostly because my dad frowns upon reading books other than those meant for studies. A waste of time, he says, before he throws them away.

Throughout childhood, my sisters and I have read in secrecy. Comics, novels, books, stories… anything would be smuggled in and chucked under pillows, in closets, under mattresses, and we’d even go as far as resorting to reading in the bathrooms, at times.

It turned into a habit: to read secretly. I usually enjoy most genres, favoring classics and mysteries over the rest. Every once in a while I immerse myself in a romance and mind you not the Mills and Boons kind, but the ones that make you smile, cry and try in vain to muffle your laughter as you journey through the book - even when it’s all over.

I discovered a book store nearby and have loved it since. I originally went there to buy a Jane Austen collection but they didn’t have the publishers I was looking for. Even though I’ve read the books, I don’t own them. I’ve long ago learnt that owning and reading a book are two different things. And some books you simply want to own; to have, reread, and keep for a very long time. For someone who reads in secrecy, it’s a feat to accomplish. But I ordered them anyway and spent the next few hours thumbing through other classics.

I used to wonder why people would want to buy books. Once you’re done reading them it’s over, isn’t it? Some five years ago, it seemed like a waste of an investment. It was only when I rediscovered an old favorite that made me want a copy for myself, Enid Blyton’s The Magic Faraway Tree. I loved her books during grade school and still find it funny how I used to think her name was Gnid Blyton by the way the E was lettered.

While it comes to no surprise that I favor romances, since I’d like to think I am a romantic (albeit a slightly more realistic one than some), it does seem to evoke surprised responses when people find me nose deep in a book that’s not related to my curriculum.

My response? “Shhh…”

And strangely enough, the days are slipping away way too quickly for my liking. I’m finding it harder to stay updated with the web world, much less anything else.

I’m glad that I finished marathoning (as Tammy would say) Hana Kimi. I find the Japanese version far much more enjoyable than the Taiwanese - although I’m partial to both for different reasons. I liked the J-drama’s diversion from the actual manga immensely and loved it’s ending far more than the other. The comedy definitely appeals.

And I finally got around to reading Harry Potter months after it’s purchase. Having been nearly spoiled a few times, I wasn’t so keen to start but when I did, I hated having to put it down. It was an interesting unraveling throughout, although I wasn’t so pleased with the way it was ended - especially the last chapter and mostly because of the names. It’s still hard to believe that it’s the end.

There are the movies… but I’ve never been fond of them from the start. J.K. Rowling really did amazing job with the books but the movies don’t really cut it. The only one I’ve ever appreciated was the third - and that too, for it’s graphics.

And that’s one book less to read on my list of things to complete before my schedule makes it impossible again.

Typically on the morning of Eid, the men get dressed, eat the sweets especially made for Eid, pay Sadaqah-ul-Fitr if they haven’t already before, and then go to the masjid for Eid salaah. Where I live, women don’t go to mosques for prayer (although they do at some selected places). After (or sometimes before) the men leave, the girls would get ready and offer Eid prayer in jamaat at home usually before the men came back.

Everyone looks and feels their best, every face has a noor or a light shining off and every eye has that happy twinkle.

That’s what I missed most. My brother, dad, and other cousins aren’t here. I missed rushing to get ready and finish prayer in time so we can hug and wish them the moment they came back. For my sisters and I, it’s a competition to see who wishes them first, and when we do we’re quite possessive and unwilling to let go. It’s a great feeling and it’s one of those few days my family actually feels like a real family. There’s a feeling of togetherness that other days can’t compare to.

The rest of the day would go by meeting and greeting people that either visited or were visited. Gifts are exchanged, as are heartfelt feelings and confessions. Again, that feeling of togetherness. Family portraits and photos are taken and sent to distant relatives and vice versa.

This year: no photos, no portraits, and hardly any visiting (since my brother and dad are the ones who would take us). No proof of Eid besides what was most obvious.

And the wonder remains in the fact that even without all of that, there was still that sense of joy that remained. Nothing could erase that feeling, or the spontaneous smiles and laughs. It may have felt surreal but it was still there. Such is the beauty of this day.

Eid Mubarak!

I don’t mind it so much since I’m more for smaller, delicate jewelry. But my mom’s a bit put off because I can’t wear her bigger earrings (as most Indian jewelry are) without having them over lap each other or appear crowded. It’s frustrating because I want to keep her happy and now I’m contemplating on closing them.

It’s been 2 days, it should close easily, I guess? Hopefully, the scar won’t be too disfiguring. Or would it? I don’t know. Mom closed her second holes 2 years after having them done and there’s this tiny white scar that you can see if she doesn’t wear earrings on the other second hole she got done above it. It isn’t all that appealing to look at. *Sigh. I don’t why I go ahead and do these things if I have to rethink them later. -_-

And I think… I met Makino’s look alike at the salon. I was so tempted to ask her if she’d seen HYD but refrained when I figured she either must’ve have and 1) Squealed which would’ve ruined the layering she was doing on my hair or 2) Looked at me strangely wondering how in the world I’d even known of it’s existence. Heh, but she did talk in good Hindi. Probably, better than mine, since hers had more of the normal dialect while mine tends to be formal. Ish.

I still find it amazing to hear foreign people talk in Hindi - really well too, like Meiyang Chang from Indian Idol. He completely looked Asian but when he sang, he sang in impeccable Hindi. No accent what so ever. It was amazing. By the way, I have no idea who won or if it’s over since I’ve refrained from most forms of entertainment (including T.V.) since the start of Ramadhan, but if you do, feel free to spoil. I just googled it. Prashant won, I was actually going for the other guy. But he’s good too.

But since then, I’ve been applying it on my mom, my sister (albeit forcibly) and myself.

I really do love this nameless henna brand. It’s a shame I can’t get it anywhere else other than this boutique that’s about 30 mins away. It dyes the deepest red and has a really nice fragrance. The best part is that the color gets darker as the hours and days go by until you’re plain scared by the near-black design that’s dyed into your skin.

And I have photos (hav