Today is just MY day.

I just made up a saying:
"The best way to get a girl's attention is through her stomache"

At least this girl's attention. Hehe.
It's like this,
If you buy me food, you're on my OK list.
If you buy me good food, you're on my Good list.
If you buy me great mouth-watering food, you're on my Great list.
If you cook me fantastic, out-of-this-world, saliva-inducing food, you're on my Excellent list. =)

Quote of the day:
“Calculus needs total consciousness, bukan macam solat awak, tiba-tiba je dah bagi salam.” –Puan Siti Rohani

Don’t misinterpret it into something negative or unreligious, because what my math teacher said didn’t mean anything close.

She asked, “Kenapa bukan macam solat awak?”
We would have answered, “Tak khusyuk”, because I’m sure that was what most of us in the class were thinking.
But the undeniably correct answer was actually, “Dah biasa sangat”.

I think I’ve reached the point where praying is just a mere daily routine for me. I take it seriously, but it has become more a part of my day-to-day life chronology than a compulsory responsibility. I do it, religiously in fact, but the meaning does not really permeate deeply. I couldn’t remember the last time I performed a truly immaculate prayer. And that worries me. Sebab ‘dah biasa sangat’, I don’t put a lot of meaning or feelings into it, and I guess that’s one of the most precise reasons why I feel so empty lately.

I’m in serious need of some guidance.
For both my religious adherence and calculus proficiency.

The Three Musketeers?

Nope.
It's The Three Masked Eaters!


The things that need to be repaired because of what we barnacle heads did last night:
1. Ainna's squeaking bed
2. Ainna's laptop's blasting sound system
3. Fairuz's zero coordination dancing skills
4. My off-tune guitar


Check out our brilliant rendering of 'Accidentally in Love' here.

I was stuck in reverie throughout classes today.
Sekejap berangan, sekejap senyum. Gila.

I think I have a problem. I find the goriest things funny. I heard Miss Loh's story in between my daydreaming in TOK class about how the people in Vietnam were ran over by army tanks sometime ago, and I laughed my ass off. Lina tried to shut me up and said that massacres are not supposed to be funny, but I just can't stop laughing. This is all Danial's kawan's fault.

My list of workload:
World Lit 1st Draft (printing failure)
IA Assignment 1st Draft (remind mama to post back questionnaires)
EE on The Scarlet Letter (have not read even a single word)

I finally get to breathe in a normal pattern today.
No more disappointing exam results. No more G4 reports. No more insomnia.

------------------------------

Danial got me completely off guard last night with his stupid little surprise.
“Cakap la hi kat kawan I ni.”

Haha.
Poyo la korang.

Hair is so last season.

Part of a poem called Botak by Baha Zain

BOTAK
Orang botak sesungguhnya telus
mendedahkan bentuk kepalanya dengan rela
tidak berselindung di bawah rambut yang berwarna
orang botak tak pakai sikat
tak memerlukan syampu dan apa-apa
gondol seperti selepas tahalul
berguguran ke bumi segala dosa.

p/s: Some guys look great when they're bald, especially the ones with well-built physiques. =)

jane's 18 today!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, my boyish soulmate.

If neither of us ever get married, aku dengan kau jadi eh?


Oh, here's your special birthday cake:



=)

Hi. I’m Mya and I’m a BMS geek.

So today I interviewed the director of the company that I’m investigating on. Everything went well, except the fact that I totally have to change my RQ because the current one is no longer valid, after being clarified on the company’s human resource problems. Sure, the employees would love to increase their productivity if they are rewarded accordingly. Problem is, what’s the company going to do with all the extra output the employees produce then? Sell them? Not that easy, since the company doesn’t have a large number of distribution channels because of its small size. The answer: excess stocks. If I continue with my current RQ, I’m not helping the company to solve their problems, I’m creating new ones.

This sucks. Do you know how long it took me to come up with the second proposal for this IA assignment? After all the brain-squeezing, it turns out that all the crap I put in that five page long proposal are just, well, crap. And has anyone ever noticed that the motivational theories are friggingly archaic? Who applies them in real life business management today anyway?
Barnacles.

...................................................................................................................

Can you believe these people? Kelakar gila. They party all night, drink strong alcohol, get all proud with the hangover they have the next day, and still have the realization to ask if the food they eat in a restaurant is halal or not. Hello? You’re like drinking satan’s piss or whatever, the haram-est of all haram, and you’re worried about your food being not halal? There’s no need to trouble yourselves la darlings, the haram factor is already flowing happily inside your blood vessels.

It’s not like I’m trying to preach here. I’m not a goody-two-shoes myself. I don’t know what’s going to happen to me in the future, especially when I study overseas, with me being highly impressionable and all. I have no intention to offend anyone and I have nothing against these people. But they have got to take into account the very unreligious things they do when they want to talk about religion-related matters. Because if they don’t, they’re just going to embarrass themselves by sounding like absent-minded peroxide blondes.

Can any of you smart asses out there please create a different clock from the current one we're using? My sleeping time has gone haywire.

Or maybe I'll just move to Bora-Bora Island.
Where is that island anyway? My geographical knowledge is nonexistent. I mistake Kangar and Kuala Kangsar all the time.

So let's see how my day went, shall we?
I slept at 4 and woke up at 9 in the morning. I ate two dry toasts while working on my G4 report, still in my pijamas. At 2pm I was already a walking zombie, so I dragged myself back to bed. I woke back up at 6pm, showered and changed into a fresh set of pijamas. Mom wanted me to go to the taylor's which is like 20++minutes from our house to pick up my baju kurung, but I said, "maa adik tak boleh drive la bila ngantok. nanti langgar lembu." So then I continued to sleep until around 9pm. And now here I am, tapping on the computer table to the sound of God Save The Queen. Ini semua salah G4.

On the plus side, when I don't sleep right, my body also doesn't function right. That means I lose weight effortlessly, which is great because I need to shed all those pounds I gained all through this three-week break. I hardly ever notice the grumbling sound that my stomache makes when I'm doing my work. And by the time I've finished, the sound has been gone long before. It sometimes becomes a deliberate act of starvation, but most of the time, it's just food amnesia.

Procrastinating does a lot of good things to me. And no, I'm not being sarcastic.
I'm glad I spent the first two weeks of my three-week break jalan-jalan cari makan.

Punk's Romeo & Juliet

Sid's poem entitled "Nancy"
You were my little baby girl
And I knew all your fears
Such joy to hold you in my arms
And kiss away your tears
But now you're gone
There's only pain
And nothing I can do
And I don't want to live this life
If I can't live for you

He was a sex-is-just-sex junkie rocker. He had groupies lining up to bed him after every of his many incandescent performances. One night stands were part of his everyday life routine. Until he met Nancy. She was his ardent fan, and he was hers. To Sid, Nancy was the crutch for his infirmed heart.


You can call it a partnership of self-annihilation, or a vehement bond of alcohol and drugs, or a relationship of total nonexistence. Whatever.
I call it gothic romance.

p/s: Sid Vicious is hot. Sumpah tak tipu.

Can someone please please please get me the refraction factor of ascorbic acid??

I'm tired. Let's take a break and watch Fairly Odd Parents.
Sing with me! and a-one, and a-two, and a---,

Timmy is an average kid that no one understands *pampampam*
Mom and Dad and Vicky always giving him commands *bed,twerp!*
Doom and gloom up in his room is broken instantly
By his magic little fish who grant his every wish, cause in reality
They are his oddparents, fairly odd parents
(Wands and wings, floaty crowny things)
Oddparents, fairly oddparents
Really mod, pea pod, buff bod, hot rod
(Obtuse, rubber goose, green moose, guave juice, giant snake, birthday cake, large fries, chocolate shake!)
Oddparents, fairly oddparents
It flips you're lid when you're the kid with
Fairly Oddparents! *yeah, right.*

I think I'm having that self-esteem attact again.

I was busy reading some random girl's blog (instead of searching for ascorbic acid's refraction factor like I was supposed to) and goddamnit, I hate her life. I'm being such a typical girl, getting jealous because another girl is so freaking rich that she gets to go to a cool college and learn all the cool stuffs. Unlike me who's struggling to write my stinking BIOLogy G4 report at 1.24 in the morning. Do you know how eerie it is at 1.24 am sitting alone at the dining table trying extremely hard to stay focused on a report? I bet she's busy dancing her ass off to some swanky music with her swanky friends at some swanky club drinking swanky vodka. While I'm here stuffing my big fat belly with whatever's left in the fridge and smelling kinda funky because I haven't showered.

I'm doing it again! God, I hate self-pity.

Dear Self-esteem,
You're such a bitch. If I find you, I would love to give you an assful of shoe. So, please evaporate into thin air before that happens and leave my fuuuckins heart alone!

Hatred always,

Mya.

The 'L' sign is indelibly marked on my forehead.

Before things get anymore pathetic, I'm going to sembahyang Isyak. and hit the sheets.

GOODNIGHT PERFECT PEOPLE. (who obviously don't read my blog, duh.)

here's something to start the new layout with:

she was there

as night creeps slowly and darkness dances with glee
she wipes the crystal beads in a world unfair
those people who dare ask, where was she?
in obscurity she lives, but nevertheless, she was there.

I pity her

Really, I do.
I just got back from accompanying her to the clinic to get some ointments for the really, really nasty rashes under her left armpit. Allergies. They sure suck. Seafood, chicken and meat are off-limits for you!

And yet, you look like you can eat everything. Hehe.

i'm down to only a few words!

and yet here i am, blogging my way through this very beautiful and warm Sunday afternoon.
sikit je lagi mya, sikit je lagi.
focus!

-------------------------------.

dear long-and not-so-healthy hair,
it was fun while it lasted. i'm sorry that i snapped and subconsciously drove us to the salon and got a big proportion of you cut off from my head. it was my fault and i deserve all the mockeries i'll be getting for the next whole year for looking like a chinese mahjong-playing aunty.

i really hate this slow hair growth gene.
thank you, mom & dad.

i'm young,

and inevitably impressionable.
which is pathetic, undoubtedly.

have you ever heard the saying, "If they write about it, they're not doing it" ? bet you haven't, cause i just made that up. haha. but it's actually true, especially if those so-called "it"s are, umm, fiendish. seriously, who writes about how they dominantly devoured someone in bed, or how awakened they felt from the copious blood loss from wrist-slitting, or the ecstatic feeling of the last joint they smoked, or the burning sensation from the excessive valium intakes to fight the gnawing pain of Inferno Pepper Pot craving? who writes about these things? i'll tell you who, people who serve their mouthfuls of crap with hot sauce but can't even handle shoving all those crap back down their throats. in intelligible english, that means people who boast about the deviant things they want to do but are actually elusive on the execution part.

and i think i'm one of those people.
which in my case is actually a relief, because i write but i don't do.
so here it is, i really want to light that nicotine stick up and suck all the sweet-smelling smoke deep down into my alveolus until i'm high above that i can't possibly find a way to land safely on the ground.

i'm just writing. =)


oh, by the way,
HAPPY HAPPY HAPPY 18TH BDAY TO MY DESKMATE LINA!!
in 3 months i'll be leaving adolescence and joining you in adulthood. weehoo.

emo all the way

told ya.

You Are an Emo Rocker!

Expressive and deep, lyrics are really your thing. That doesn't mean you don't rock out... You just rock out with meaning. For you, rock is more about connecting than grandstanding.

What Kind of Rocker Are You?

If there's one thing that i don't understand,

it's that blood-pumping fist-sized thing implanted in the left side of my chest.


why is it that everytime i wanted to escape, i ended up in penang?
i didn't get to go to the beach this time, but Gurney was more than enough.
just sitting alone while watching little kids running around trying to catch floating bubbles soothed each and every one of my aching veins.
and while the sun set slowly along with the legato sound of Vienna, the thudding of my heart also slowed a few tempo.

haha jiwang sungguh.

and who were the people to blame for making my stay in penang worthwhile?

yes Summer, i'm ok.

and yes Winky, i really had a great time.

our gay moments. =)