WTF.

Checked on the 2nd of July, 2009; 1400 hours, +00 GMT.

THIS WILL BE THE LAST TIME YOU GET ME, STUPID UNIVERSE!

Finding a decent picture of him is like figuring out rocket science.

You know, as shocking as Jacko’s death might be, there’s another thing that impacted a stronger “What The Fux0rz” reaction;

The aftermath.

Right now, headlines of him getting a Muslim burial, claims of his alleged child molestation being fictitious (they claimed the child confessed to lying as per his parent’s request), his death bearing a suspicious cause, and more of his conversion to Islam tales are mushrooming. So now, I’m fasting from any world-related news for a few days. Then I can be like those boarding school kids who can elaborate on the atom’s structure word-by-textbook word but still go “Obama? Is that like, a new breed of llamas?“

Not that they can speak decent English though. It would probably sound something like this; “Obama? Is that likes.. new breeding of the animal that looking like llama?”

Assuming they know what a llama is. (If you’re wondering why the sudden animosity towards boarding school kids… let’s just say there’s one particular person who’s grating my nerves. If she’s not careful, I am so featuring her on this space).

I’ll miss the guy though, even though I don’t exactly live next door to him and have evening tea and scones together or anything.

As a kid, I remember watching his music videos together with my little sister on laser disc all the time. We’d skip ‘Thriller‘ because the music video would scare the crap out of us…

Okay, maybe just me.

I honestly still can’t watch that music video until now and it’s the only Jacko song I haven’t heard ’till the end. ‘Remember The Time‘ and ‘Rock With You‘ will always be an all-time favourite though.

By the way, you might hate me for this but I’m one of those who believe that his previous child molestation case was fabricated. Not blown out of proportions but completely fabricated. Media hype. Greedy, manipulative parents. Puppeteered, innocent kids. I’m ready to be humiliated and proven wrong however, and I think Kak Wani’s the only one who can do that.

A last note from me;

SO true.

Summer’s a’comin’, remnants of spring shakes its plethora of colours from its leafy green branches.

There’s so many things that can brighten your day in summer. The sun beating down on you, the canvass of pristine white clouds against an encompassing cerulean blue, rays of sunlight cascading from the sky to bask you in that much appreciated warmth especially if the weather’s been bitingly cold as of late… and most of all, layers of protruding abdominal fat publicly showcased by the walking heart-attacks who would redefine obesity if they could.

Summer attire, you are the bane of my existence. 

Body-hugging baby-Ts, spaghetti straps and tank tops, miniskirts and summer shorts.

Foreigners are so considerate. How did they know I’ve been oh-so-eager to see their glaringly obvious stretch marks and that I find it endlessly entertaining to count how many layers of fat they have? (For the purpose of preserving mental health, this math-related, graphic-heavy mind exercise is suitable for those aged 7 and above). Looking at your unshaved underarms and legs also fills me with such happiness and joy.

1 out of 4 people in the UK are overweight, and they’re proud of it, damnit. The parade of the morbidly obese will commence within a few weeks and this is when I ask; “Why, God? Why did you only give so very few of them heart attacks this year?”

Have God no mercy on my sanity? Oh wait, swine flu.

My prayers have been answered.

I think the thing I should be noting is the intensity of the sun’s rays at times. London is very different from Malaysia. Here, people actually purchase sunglasses to like, use them. Outside. When the sun gets blindingly unbearable (it’s a daily occurrence). I mean, who does that? In Malaysia, we wear them inside shopping complexes, because darn it, those KLCC lights are too much for our fragile eyesights! They’re goddamn necessities!

Silly Londoners.

Should I purchase a pair or risk reduced eye capacity from rolling my eyes (in glee. When I see another skimpily clad, fat person passing by) and accidentally looking straight into the sun too often?

A decent pair from a decent brand (Next, Topshop, etc) could range from £5 – £20. Not bad, if you ask me. But then again, I’m saving up for Sennheiser’s PX100 or Koss’s KSC75. Haven’t made up my mind on which of these two headphones to get. Let’s label them glasses as luxury items for now. 

My ears > My eyes.

Remember when I said the Malaysian community in London is especially close-knit? I’ve made some few good friends here, met some annoying ones, have despised some others and forged what I hope to be a close bond with a few that stand out in my books. I’m featuring four of ‘em, each identified by yours truly by single adjectives;

Pleasant;

Interesting;

Despicable; and

Annoying.

It’s your call to mix and match the faces with whichever words you deem befits them, but here they are. Also, I believe these pictures represent each in the light of their own seven deadly sins…

Gluttony

Vanity

Lust

Camwhore-ity

Huh what? It’s not a sin? Whatever it should be one. Here are chronological pictures of us (I took most of ‘em whee :D). And hey, if you noticed that we had a colour theme for this particular outing to Barking’s own Park, then congratulations. You have the unique talent of pointing out the obvious.

A very sorry attempt at camouflage.

Papparazzi-inspired shot, while they pretended to be celebrities. I took this… because no one else in their right mind would.

A metal fence freak accident waiting to happen…

Funny enough, they all didn’t know each was doing the Angelina Jolie-inspired puckered lips. Neither also knew how terribly they failed at it… (I’m not gonna be the one to tell them).

I think they’d be happy if I point out that oh look! Your shadows are shorter than you are, you little midgets!

Numbers!

Alphabets!

Father Time!

The three previous pictures exhibit a posed remembrance of one’s lost youth… or four really sad people with too much time on their hands.

Oh wow, they remembered to take a picture of me too.

I love the colour montage. Red (sad people/us) against green (trees), against blue (sky).

Picture taken moments before I broke my back.

Here are my favourite pictures of the lot. I took ‘em too! :D

Spring time (Oh hey I can point out the obvious too).

They sorta look like cherry blossoms in the distance.

The haunting sinewy vines of the trees reaching upwards to the darkening sky. Eerie.

Quick trivia. Am I really grabbing ‘em? This is Nuha, by the way. Of Thai descent, which explains her exotic features. She’s capricious, easily irritable and fashion conscious… that’s why I really like her. :D

That’s Kamal… God willing, he’ll be married to another member of our little group by next year… I hope they do it here, it’d be my first wedding in London. It’s funny how budding romance can flourish into something beautiful and sacred as you’re miles away from home. How you find comfort in each other’s presence initially as friends, desolate as you are after having taken off so far away from home… and eventually developing sincere and conflicting feelings for each other as you try to sort out your friendship and desire for something more. Cliched and overused in Chic Lit, it’s a plot I didn’t think I’d witness personally. But it’s there and it’s cute. :D

Like my little friend here, Mr. Bushy-Tailed-Widdle-Cutey-Wutey-Aww-So-Adorable Squirrel. I believe he’s referring to the Names Registrar for a change soon

Anyway, have fun matching the four distinct people with the four distinct personality traits I mentioned earlier. Here’s to the theory of your face, the creases on your complexion, and the architectural, subtle nuances and inflections in your facial structure being the determining factor for your innate personalities. What’s that field of science called again? Roasted squirrel on a pit to anyone who can tell me.

zOMG this is totally cool! 

After years of refusing to be with anyone, of sticking to my principles and deluded, self-imposed belief of self-worth, I’ve decided to succumb to the pressures of peer folly.

First it was facebook, now it’s finding myself someone to be with.

What next?!

It’s like I’m all giddy inside, always wondering what he’ll say next, what he’ll do next, anticipating his calls, texts and sweet nothings whispered to my ear.

Chain of freedom? Overrated!

This feeling of elation can never, EVER be replicated.

And not to mention, Google Chrome released a 3D version of itself! Now we can surf the web in a more realistic and world based interface. How cool is that!? I totally recommend it to you guys searching for a fuller experience on the (previously mundane and dull until THIS came along) web browser. Youtube also has a new and more practical layout. Can this day get any better?

No more self-righteous tirades on how having a boyfriend is a waste of time from me, nope. I’ve jumped the bandwagon and oh boy, I ain’t going back. I’ll waste precious amount of times wondering why he’s 0.5 seconds late in replying to my texts, shout shrilly at him if he helps that old woman cross the street (I totally saw you undressing her granny panties with your eyes!), demand that only I’m allowed to be in his MSN, ICQ, Google Talk and phone contacts list (or when I’m generous, he’s allowed to add his mother too whatever) and talk about him incessantly to jealous people who may LOOK bored when I talk about our day but are actually rolling their eyes in jealousy.

JEALOUSY.

I’m on seventh heaven. I’m in bliss.

Here’s his picture with his crappy web-cam on an old and utterly obsolete Dell:

<3

He’s not as tech-savvy as I’d like him to be but not everyone’s perfect. I so love my baby!

PS: I fubar’ed my taskbar calendar. What date is today?

CBA stands for Crazy Bitch-Ass friend.

HI BALQIS! :D

It’s my desktop for March. Yes I procrastinate so much that even doing something I actually enjoy is delayed by 23 days.

I can’t wait for April and re-pimpin’ of the desktop! Of course, it would probably be done sometime around July. Don’t hold your breath (‘Cause you’ll die! :D).

(It’s my 6th or March entry, but I’m only posting it today because… well because I’m a procrastinator. :P Something for you to read, Nurisya. I tried to add pictures so it won’t be a boring post as usual.)

It’s my first day staying alone at Elephant and Castle. I should go out and enjoy the nice weather and all (I think it’s around 7°C now or something) but then I have to like, go out. And… like… walk. Dear God how exhausting that would be.

Did go out earlier today though, bought some groceries. If you call instant waffles, cereal, milk, bread and jam as groceries. But then again they are, just not of the “fresh” and “raw” variety. But wait! I did get FRESH milk! Now I suppose I’m just missing the “raw”. Do not ‘tsk tsk’ me just yet, talented-in-cooking yet judgmental people.

Check out what I got:

My room comes with my own fridge! Hello sedentary lifestyle~

Why the overly detailed list? The weight, number of pieces and even brand names of the product? Well if you must know I’m a very meticulous and conscientious person as a whole… and also goddamn as hell bored right now. It’s nice to find out that there’s a Tesco, Asda, Currys, Argos and Lidl all within walking distance from my place though.

It does feel different when you’re staying alone. I guess that’s why when people camwhore, they only plaster their faces on 80% of picture space (20% hair. The percentage is reversed with emo kids though). They’re alone and bored. :<

Now I can empathise… Not.

I did camwhore though, and now I’m gonna show off the haircut I got a month ago (I actually LOOK like a girl now OMGZORZZZ) and the accessories I wear to lessen the confusion concerning my gender. And also my kickass new glasses which my sister helped choose. For some reason, the things she helps me buy gets complimented a lot and the things I buy myself… well… let’s change the topic…

(I was actually stopped twice by two girls, one of them I suspect is Nigerian and the other unknown, telling me they love my hairstyle. Score! I did skimp on the info that I never brush my hair and woke up late so I didn’t have time to look in the mirror though…)

Because I’m so bored, I’m just gonna show you my room. And to whomever I omitted in informing this particular crucial information… did you know, that… I BOUGHT COOLZ0RZ DUVET AND PILLOW COVERS WAIT TILL YOU SEE THEM OMG SQUEAAAAL.

Awesome pillow sheet and duvet cover.

Omg squeal.

Edit: Forgot to add the desk.

Here’s the view I’m gonna be taking in everyday while I’m here:

It was around 3-ish.

Somewhat foreboding... I wonder how it looks like in spring and autumn.

Finally, the camwhore pics :P

Oops wrong pictures.

Why does my hair look so messy? Well I believe it’s called STYLE, you lesser informed beings… and I just woke up from a nap. A STYLISH nap.

Moving on… accessories!

Balqis got me these, and at a hefty RM30++, despite my begging her not to waste money unnecessarily. Unless to buy food and gadgets. The general rule of the universe states that it’s okay to waste money unnecessarily on food and gadgets.

Thanks Balqis, I never take them off, as unhygienic and disgusting as that sounds. :D

Oh wait, I took them off to take a proper picture of the pair.

Let me rephrase: Thanks Balqis, I did at least take them off once, now aren’t I the most clean and hygienic human being you know? :D

Next, my fishbone and dunno-what’s-it-called necklace.

Never took these off as well. Notice the two rings? It wasn’t part of the necklace originally, I just added them for good measure. In case this sort of scenario happens:

“Oh my god! I have thus punched two holes into 5 sheets of papers and I refuse to staple them together and wrinkle theses pristine and crease-free papers! Whatever shall I do?”

“Why, you can use paper clips!”

“Oh heavens no! That would not penetrate the fragile papers, but it would have them creased a bit from the pressure exerted unto the paper by the miniscule yet deceivingly sturdy paper clips!”

“Why, fear not, folly humans! For I, Aziemah, am wearing two paper rings on my necklace! You can actually USE them as like, rings around that like, little hole thingies. Your worries are no more! Obliterated! Extinguished! Eliminated! Wait let me check the thesaurus!”

“Oh thank you sage Aziemah! For this, I owe you my soul!”

Hahahahahahahahaha… …I need a life.

But yeah, they’re paper rings. Who knows I might be in dire need of ‘em one day (READ ABOVE SCENARIO) and it would be just so frustrating that I’m not in possession of one at that very moment I would commit suicide or something. You know…

Just in case.

Last, me glasses.

My WTF expression:

I think I naturally look like this.

That’s all, I’m not so bored now. Just downloaded another episode of House. Bye people who must be more bored than I am for visiting this space! I bet your life sucks so much more yay! :D

“Is there anything wrong? You seem awfully quiet…”

I’d usually get that a lot when I’m out with others, and most of the time I’d be wondering why. I suppose when interacting with my friends, I’d be the loud and boisterous one, trying to crack funny jokes while making a fool of myself. And now, it’s come to the point where my silence is something to be concerned about.

How did that happen?

I don’t remember being lively when I was younger or even when I was in high school. I love going home after school and just messing with the computer, never accepting any invitations to go out or have fun and just spend the whole day with myself. I had more internet friends than any real friends. I was the typical computer addict, downloading pirate, cyber geek.

Come college, I had to stay in a cramped room with 7 others and initially, I hated it. I pretended to like it and tried to be friendly with them, and surprisingly it came with ease. Social venture was apparently a natural thing to me. Soon, I found myself liking these people, even admiring them to a certain extent. I had more than 5 close friends at a time and it was new. Still, I missed my recluse days.

Days segued into months, and subsequently years and my circle grew larger. I had a lot of close friends and a staggering number of acquaintances (those I would strike up a lively conversation with, and yet would always feel an encompassing distance to them, despite the affable interaction). I’d be going out often, though not exactly to party into the night and come home a drunken mess. One still has to choose one’s crowd. I wondered if as they say, college has changed me. Growing up made me a different person. I was apt to swallow those words, until I realised one key fact: I still missed spending time with just myself.

It’s fun being with other people, yeah. I found out there are other ways to interact other than being sarcastic or cynical and I’d like to think they softened me up, like melted butter on a hot pan. I can sincerely emphatise with people’s concerns, and not just fake it because I’m obliged by societal rules. I became less judgmental, more compassionate and even more (earnestly) sensitive to other people’s worries.

But I still missed being with me.

Is it so much to ask for, then, that I might find the same solitude that was exclusively mine and mine alone two years ago here in London?

Anyone missed me while I went MIA?

No one?

Really?

Screw you I hope you get cancer.

So… Sorry for the lack of updates… and here is where I give you an excuse about being swamped with things to do, enjoying life, lacking inspiration, have exams coming up or not having proper connection et al. Choose whichever that the last 5 blogs you visited didn’t use, it would certainly give me points on originality.

Dyjae and Balqis suggested that I should probably write on a particular incident that happened approximately two months ago. It involved an exploded abdomen, exposed flesh spared of profuse bleeding brimming with balls of puss and possible infection of the gastrointestinal tract.

I promise you this would be good.

But first, I should probably prelude this post with a caveat to some:

Warning: This Post is not for the faint of heart. If you are not accustomed to seeing grotesque stuff I redirect you here instead. If you are of 13 years of age and younger, and have gratuitously conditioned yourself to the likes of the horrific and terrifying talentless Jonas Brothers, High School Musical and Miley Cyrus, then I congratulate you on having the stomach of a surgeon. You brave warriors may tread on.

But first, a little personal plea from me:

God have mercy on us all...

Moving on.

The general population, meet Seroja the cat:

Seroja, the cat.

Seroja the cat, the general population:

The General Population, roughly.

At least we have opposable thumbs.

You know, dogs aren’t the only animal species capable of doing tricks. For instance, I taught Seroja to play dead.

Good kitty!

Alright, now you're just getting cocky.

We picked her up from Seroja the college. Anyway, I’ve decided on a reward-based incentive to a simple trivia. Whoever can guess where the cat’s name is inspired from gets to inhale free oxygen for the rest of their living days. I’ll even pitch in free nitrogen. I tell you, this is a tough one.

UiTM is just full of geniuses.

I was bunking at Dyjae’s room and freeloading her stash of food when I noticed it was standing in front of the door. When I went to it and bowed to pat it, I spotted from my peripheral vision a huge, gaping wound that had globs of puss deep it its recesses. Of course, I jumped in fright, panicked a bit and incoherently told Fatin who just got back from the showers what I just saw. Then I proceeded to re-enter the room and eat more of Dyjae’s chocolate crackers.

Later that night, while freeloading at Balqis’ place and eating her Dahfa Fish snacks, I mentioned the cat’s wound to Balqis so she wouldn’t much realise that I was dwindling her food stash err I mean because I was deeply anxious for the feline’s condition. Getting worked up, Balqis laid out plans for some of us to use her car to drive it to the Government Vet’s. Due to certain reasons (mostly because I was afraid of Balqis who would 100% guaranteed choose the cat’s life over mine) we then had to go to a private clinic.

It was… interesting.

Oxymoron of the day: Governmental efficiency.

Apparently, stupid Government Vet Lady didn’t much know what she was talking about. The condition that the cat suffered was apparently a rather common one, the third most common cancer suffered by cats, most recurrent in female felines.

Quite literally, milk accumulated in her mammary glands. The milk went sour, became a festive ground for bacteria, her mammary glands (titties) hardened, grew bigger and swollen and exploded (This part of the process is not to be confused by another, um, self-gratifying process).

It’s called feline mastitis.

Feline-Mass-Titties. Get it? Get it?! God I’m hilarious.

And once again, we the public are so ever impressed by the admirable sagacity and wisdom portrayed by the Government sector. Anyway, the treatment set us back about RM100 and we spent another RM100 when the cat suddenly became weak again after a week’s treatment in Dyjae’s room. That’s RM200 we spent on the cat, not to mention that additionally, we’d have to keep her in sterile conditions because having her wound getting infected is the cause of a slow, agonizingly painful death.

This is about a week after bringing her to the vet:

No more blood and puss, darn.

This picture was taken after her wound was cleaned and she was admitted for a day at the vet’s (I didn’t want you losing your lunch). This was two weeks:

The wound still feels sticky when you touch it, hehe. Fun.

Shout-outs.

In which I’d now like to thank Dyjae, Izzati, Fatin and her senior whom had patiently endured the cat’s constant yowling and desperate-for-attention bouts. I’d also like to apologise to Dyjae’s neighbours whom had patiently endured the cat’s nightly cacophony of noises (except for this one particular short, chubby girl who gave me the dirty look when I tended to the cat outside).

Screw you, fat chubby girl. You know what I hope you would get!

Also, another shout-out to Lily for not minding when the cat used her textbook as kitty litter.

I'd rather not talk about Lily right now. Or ever.

Finally, mad props to Balqis and her family for (Well, obviously not for choosing the cat’s life over me. I am hurt. HURT) keeping the cat at home for a month during the convalescence period. Now she’s completely healed, obese (Good job Balqis. Death due to wound infection avoided, now we just have to worry about the cat dying of a heart attack) and is one of the most pampered cat I’ve seen.

Balqis, I’ll forever remember your fervent attitude in taking care of the cat, and your compassionate nature of always putting it ahead of so many other things…

I feel the love.

Now the cat’s staying in Seroja, we brought it back about a week ago. And this particular incident that happened, is one of the creepiest experience, I kid you not.

*Nightmare on Elm Street music playing*

I don’t have a recent picture but there’s no open wound anymore, just a small scar where it used to be and where’s the fun in that? The only cool thing about the cat now is that it only has 7 nipples. Or 5… Wait how many nipples do cats have in total?

Anyway… good luck with feeding the cat now Balqis. You are such an animal lover and may God smile upon your blessed soul as you personally take care of His wounded creatures while I… uh… give non-monetary moral support from afar.

Nighty night, Seroja.

Have fun on Izzati's bed!