"Stay strong."

I want to be a person who doesn't complain of hardship, but many years later on a fine night will reminiscent those crappy days while enjoying tea. I do believe I'm too old for complaining anyway.

---

Hello. Some might know that I have received my job offer letter in the mail on Sunday. This makes me a likely candidate for the July placement thus inshaAllah will start working in August.

I'm not exactly excited about it as my earlier tinge of frustration was from my unemployed state and with this news, thankfully put a deadline to the status. Impartial will be a good description. I didn't bring this topic up among my friends because I understand their ranges of frustration from their letter yet to arrive. But it's hard to feel sorry for us when we have friends who haven't graduated yet.

On another note, I have gotten used to this sedentary lifestyle where my concerns are the speck of dust on the floor and what time will I sleep today. This news means I'm eligible for duit raya this year so please don't pretend otherwise.

In the mean time, I'm planning to do some landscaping, spring cleaning the house and whatnot. Maybe bake things for Raya and bring some to the hospital if Sarah and Kak Raihan work that day.

Fire

Today my mom asked me to grill the fishes for our break fast, so I obediently went to get the charcoal. The fire burning and I didn't understand why she put me on the job. I mean, I was in a house fire, right? She should at least assess my psychiatric state before putting me anywhere near that amount of fire and smoke. I might not be able to sleep at all tonight.

Anyway, I listened to my mom and worked the grill. I shouldn't stay near the smoke too much, it's more that it's not good for anyone's lung rather than the issue of trauma. Plus I was more worried the smoke might not be kind to my white shirt today.

I guess I'm good. So what explains my difficulty to sleep at night?

Working the grill made me wonder about the abomination that is charcoal. We burn real wood until they become black and then consumers burn them white to get decent heat for cooking. Forests are friends, we shouldn't be burning trees for food sake. We had oven-baked fish a few days back so maybe there's difference in their taste that made it worthwhile to be burning wood?

But I didn't detect any significant differences. My palate is not as refined as Hannibal's and I'm known to be partial to simple food like omelette, chicken porridge and simple fried rice with Ayamas spicy chicken drummet.

Between being related and being brothers

Scrolling through Twitter cleaning up rubbish tweets, I came upon Dr. Du Maurier quote in Hannibal.

"The traumatised are unpredictable because we know we can survive."

I got through the fire episode with the help of support from people. I remember going to evening class Day 1 after fire and got a call from Malaysia. It was Eh*ad our senior from Gen06 asking how we were holding up. I'm not sure if I really told him how appreciative I was back then, but please know that I am.

The day before I was going back to Malaysia for a month during the study leave, I had baked cookies to give away to several people and the last on my list was B*pis. That night after our nightly clerking at the hospital, I asked Rahim and Amirul to chaperone me to meet B*pis to pass him the cookies.

Rahim being true to himself started to tease me about it (I remain amazed how this prankster actually got voted as president of our student organisation) and I defended myself by telling them "D*nmat is like my abang long, he has been looking out for me since first year."

"Which senior doesn't look out for you?" He pointed out. 

Rahim exaggerated of course, but I know I'm always being looked out for and I am very grateful for it. They taught me a lot, layan-ed me when I go into mohon-dilempang mode, go outside their comfort zone for me, allow me the privilege of buzzing them whenever I need anything. But of course I tolerated more of their craziness, their ordering around and bullying-attempts... just kidding.

To all kakaks and abangs including the Gen06 and Gen007 bros I never call abang and special mention to BPP crews, thank you very much and God bless you all wherever you guys are now.

Gaaaah

Just because I was with BPP doesn't mean I'm good with a camera. My forte is running a news story. Yeah sure anyone can critic a picture taken but give me a camera myself I'd get self-conscious.

God I'm stressed about this.

A love story. Spoiler alert.

Disclaimer: I am recapping an episode of Hannibal. It was too awesome I have to make a post out of it. You have been warned of spoiler and my borderline psychopathic tendency.

After stabbing Will in the stomach and ranting out his broken heart, Hannibal's last words to him were "I forgive you Will. Do you forgive me?" And then he cut Abigail's throat while Will watched in horror, helpless.

There is something intimate about stabbing someone in the stomach while holding them in an embrace. Hannibal's broken heart was so palpable I felt for him and why he did that. I've always been rooting for Will but this time.. It was very easy to forget Hannibal's a psychopathic serial killer and Will's the good guy here.

8 months later. Hannibal killed a man, broke all his bones and skinned him to model him into a heart. He left the body in a chapel where Will's search for Hannibal brought him there.

He left him.. his heart. His broken heart.

Will deduced Hannibal was still there. Earlier we were shown Hannibal peeking on him when Will was doing his thing so we know. He went down to the maze-like basement and softly called out Hannibal's name. Hannibal stopped; who wouldn't when someone called your name out so.. lovingly?

And then Will said to the darkness "I forgive you."

It was.. sensual. No wonder the Hannigram went nuts, the show really is tapping into the Fujoshis in us.

---

On an unrelated note, a comment I received on my previous post pointed me to one anonymous reader who has good command in English and an apparent normal social mechanism. The comment was too distant to be from Farano and I am almost curious enough to disable anonymous commenting on this blog.

However, where would be the fun in that?

Few days to Ramadan

I've never been into meeting people, especially now. They will ask the same questions I dread.

First; When am I going to start working?

(A) God knows
(B) Whenever SPA decides to send out our job offer letter
(C) "After the Eid inshaAllah."

Of course I smile and politely answer (C). I am content when people follow up with "Enjoy your break" because it really is a break instead of acknowledging my silent frustration. It's not worth bringing up and I don't need that.

Second; When am I getting married?
(A) "Not now."
(B) "Tomorrow." (Read: bukrah baa, bukrah!)

I usually grin out an (A). Wise people will change the subject but persistent people will have me dishing out (B) in pure fashion of an Egyptian.

Worst is when people ask about calon. They ask this question out of curiosity or worse... This happens when I meet my peers and/or their parents, which will quickly send me into selective deafness mode because I have this irrational fear of being set up with any mortals.

Puppy 2

Disclaimer: This is me having a conversation with myself. I see it as a sounding board, you might see it as insane. So it points to us using different dictionaries.

Last night I dreamt of Dr. Hussein. I was seated on his right during a dinner. He chatted me up throughout the night but I could only listened and nodded quietly, almost awkwardly.

Later I went up to him and apologised. Admitted I am so shy around him.

I forgot how it ended, but that dream was close to the truth. I'm almost always so shy around him. I focus on his presence and his words and could barely say a word without stammering.

I miss Dr. Hussein very much :'( I wish him a lot of happiness in his days. Fi hifzillah ya duktur.

I haven't send him that email. It's almost as if I'm refraining myself from doing so. I know he will be happy to hear from me; his student. He gave me his email himself, remember? So what could possibly be holding me back?

I feel.. Scared. Maybe I'm afraid he thinks of me as super excited and weird. I'm afraid he will think I'm boring.

I guess this is my by-default way of dealing with things I miss that is taking the upperhand here. The more I miss something, the more I refrain myself to avoid feeling attached.

But I'm already attached.

One is only as dignified as one thinks he is

Frankly, my family commenting about my unemployment state has taken its toll on me. It is no longer funny. Even nenek praying for me on this matter made me feel a little offended. Let's not even talk about today with the Perak side of the family who haven't seen me in two years.

At least they're not asking when I'm getting married.

It is never a good idea to be offended by people's good intention. I know I have no right to be offended when there are people who are faring worse than I am. It has only been what, three months since I graduated? I have met doctors who smiled knowingly (read: pitifully) and commented on my eagerness and that made me feel ashamed to an extent.

The other day we were shopping at H&M and I picked up a 50 ringgit shirt and proceeded to the checkout counter. Mom handed me a 50 ringgit bill which I declined, said to her that I have money. She frowned at me.

"Where you got money from?"

I stared at her. My unemployment is a fact so I can't really be offended by it (though I am now), but implying I have no cash because of that was quite a blow to whatever ego I have. I was tempted to say I got it from withdrawing from my bank account but we all know that's a lie. I am almost always too lazy to withdraw money; I'd rather be cashless and not spending.

So I reminded her that she had been passing me 50 ringgit bills the last couple of days despite full knowledge of my frugal shopping habit. Of course I still have money left.

She still offered me the 50 ringgit bill. I can't stop mom from worrying and caring, so might as well endorse that as a fact and be grateful about it. And go with her flow. I accepted her 50 ringgit and went to pay.

25 in a few months, graduated with no real documents, unemployed, living with parents... Alhamdulillah is in order.

Natural progress of time

Mom has grey hair. It's a physiological normal turn of event. She is not happy about it.

"If I'm grey and with grandchildren, I wouldn't mind," she complained. I laughed painfully.

The other day we went to a friend's house party and mom and dad were smitten with their 5-month old. Dad kept asking for the baby and cooed at him. It was so cute and sweet I couldn't help but feel sorry for them.

"When are we going to have our own baby?" I asked mom.

"We have to wait for yours," she laughed.

I barked out a laugh. Bro is the married one but he married a doctor and we all know how that goes. It still amuses me how she would have more faith in me though. At this rate I'm going, I am very sure I'll die first before I get married.

Anyway, it's not like I don't want to get married. I've planned what flower bouquet I'm holding at my wedding and the colour palette of the event. To assure my parents on my seriousness on this matter, I decided to enlighten them.

"I've already a name for my firstborn."

Dad nearly choke on his dessert from laughing. "Have the husband's name first, not the child's."

Oh I even have that already, dad. In fact I am seeing him every weekday around 1am.

Frustration is a mutual feeling

I admire his eloquent speech. His brain and deductions. I find his unkept physique adorable. He was analysing crime and his fishing analogy reminds me how he envelopes himself in nature to calm his vivid thoughts down.

And I thought, how do you love such a guy?

---

On an unrelated note, "frustrated" is the word I've been looking for these past few days. I want to share this feeling with someone because it is good to vent, but I also appreciate that it's only temporary relief before feeling stupid sinks in. My options are also limited to my parents or Umair, both of which don't match me psychologically and wouldn't know what to say. I don't feel my parents are approaching me correctly and admitting my frustration to Umair will only validate her own frustration. I have my cool demeanour to live up to.

Perhaps these two notes aren't as unrelated as I claimed.

I am also quicker to lose patience with human nowadays. I react by quietly fuming. It's not helping anything and perhaps facilitating their deterioration, and at the end all I can do is pray Allah gives me more patience and guide us (them!) to the right path.

Name-calling

My kid siblings mischievously call each other names a lot. Maru calls Melle "bún" short from "arnabun" which is a poor but funny jab at Melle's teeth.  Sometimes he outright calls Melle "arnab". This leads to Melle retaliating back with "baby" which he deserves because I am never an advocate of physical jestering.

Calling Maru "baby" can be traced back to me since I've been calling Maru that since he was born. Nowadays he gets exasperated whenever we call him that but unless he shows maturity and responsibility, the name is here to stay.

Recently Melle has been calling Maru "bimbo". I laughed like mad when I first heard that name and that stopped the two in their cat fight, amused at my sudden lapse into insanity. I asked Melle if she knew the meaning of bimbo.

"No. What does it mean?"

"It means pretty but dumb." And we all cackled like mad, Maru not so enthusiastically.

Just now the two were at it again. Maru called Melle "arnab" which led to Melle jabbing back with a "bimbo". Dad joined the fight by squeezing a helplessly squiggling Maru like an octopus would an unfortunate fish while proclaiming he is "ayah arnab".

Maru turned to me and seeked support. "Kakngah, she's calling me dumb!"

"You forgot the pretty part!" Melle laughed back.

Well at least Maru is learning English. That kid's conversational English and Arabic are abysmal.

Definition of stupid

It will be interesting to profile these anti-vaccine and pro-home birth no-doctors-around people. Their social standing, demography and all that. I wonder if they have the same mistrust to other professional bodies. Do they build their own houses? Grow their own crops? Assemble their own cars?

I don't debate about these things. Apparently they came from a group of traumatised people. They were traumatised by someone's child who reacted severely to vaccine and traumatised by someone's unpleasant labour experience. They feared and so they Googled their own alternatives.

Elsewhere, we studied our ass off understanding vaccines and O&G. We know nothing is perfect and thus we try to our best so that the worst doesn't happen.

Partners in crime

Is it normal to be excited watching Hannibal?

I blame Will's apathetic arrogant expression that I find endearing and adorable. I especially grinned with Dr. Lecter's subtle amused smirk that I can relate to. I hail the psychopathic tone of the series. The intelligent writing. 

There's a good reason why they air this show at 0050. It's so dark it's exhilarating.

---

On another note, I complained to mom that I'm demotivated to do anything when I'm left on my own.

"Like today, I ran out of cash and I was only motivated to withdraw some after I picked up Melle."

"I told you, you need a partner." Mom grinned.

We had this conversation before, it's either Mitchi or no one. Or Will.

"What I need, is a driver."

Innova from the Garage

It's amusing how my parents caring for me can somehow border on distrust. Today I was to fetch Melle from school. I wore my tudung, picked up my IDs and phone and realised the car key was not where it was supposed to be. I heard its engine running outside and went out.

Mom was in the car, backing out from the garage. The Innova was parked in a way that its rear will be facing the concrete fence and mom's Accord when backed out. She said she was sleepy and that's why she asked me to pick Melle up, so what was she doing not napping? There were few differentials for her intention ranging from doing a favour to downright distrust that I might dent the Innova or worse her Accord. Hahah.

But all are out of love, so I simply grinned in amusement and took over the car from her.

Granted I do drive as awesome as an Egyptian (or as dangerously as, depends how you see it) and accidentally blew up the Vios's tyre in the process once, I can safely manoeuvre the Innova ever since I learned how to drive and I've never got it scratched since.