facing my fears/dreams

hey :)

There are many things in life that I wish I had learned to do. I remember in standard six, when my English teacher asked us what our hobby was. I said 'I'd like to swim...but I don't know how to.'

Even though there are many things on my list that I probably will never get round to properly learn (piano, horseback riding, archery), there is one thing that I am determined to master, or at least get pretty good at, before I go back to Malaysia.

Painting.

I have always liked paintings. I may have never received a formal education on it, and sometimes I like cheap street paintings more than the real-deal ones hung in exhibitions and museums - but I love them. Adore them. Understand them. (Not in a deep-pretentious-stare-at-painting-and-think-hard-about-the-message kind of way, of course.)

My favourites will always be van Gogh and Claude Monet, and it is a pity that I went to Paris for such a brief period and did not get to visit as many ar museums as I would have. Well...if I went with someone who would actually let me stay in there for as long as I liked, that is.

But because paintings are so dear to me, I was reluctant to try it. There is a voice in my head that keeps going 'what if I find out I suck at it?' 'what if I think I'm brilliant but everyone else thinks I suck?' etc etc. So I always go to Eason to stare at paintbrushes and acrylic colours...but never actually buying them.

Eventually, a few months ago when there was a back-to-college sale, I somehow managed to brave/psyche myself enough to purchase them. I was very pleased with myself for being able to get this far...however, when I got home, I placed the paperbag in the deepest of my closet.

And then they never saw daylight ever again.

I googled acrylic painting tips and techniques during my study break, viewed countless example paintings for beginners, but I was just too scared to actually do it. I emailed Luke (the one with the Art degree) for advice...and all he said was;

'The best advice I can give you is to just start painting. I'll help you through road blocks along the way.'

After days of exasperations and feeling frustrated with myself for being such a scaredy cat...I finally did it.




I have obviously forgotten to wet the paper first and painted base so the texture won't show, and didn't mount/tape the paper on something so it won't curl after it was done.

But still.


I think it's a good start.




...and man, wasn't that such a relief.


x

Baby, can I buy you a drink?

Final year has finally kicked in, full gear.

I'm tempted to hide all day because I don't want to face my weaknesses.

Alas, I am Atiqah. Despite being almost pathologically insane and having a heart made of cold hard rock (I stared blankly and gave a polite 'okay' with a smile as Mr McGreal throws rude comments my way...there's no way I'm giving him the satisfaction of watching me break under pressure), I have quite a good chunk of patience and common sense within me.

So I stood there as the surgeons drilled me with questions, I stood there while the team made fun of (and laughed at) my wrong answer, I stood there when McGreal cupped his head in his hands to show his frustration with me (and to make me feel stupid).

I stood there and admitted to myself that I suck at surgery and anatomy.

Not that this means I deserve to be treated like a useless airhead, but.

McGreal does teach, and he does want me to actually learn from his ward rounds, and clinics, and surgeries. So I should give him credit for that.

I'm waking up way earlier than what I'm used to, and I'm way too tired at the end of the day to do much studying at all.

My laundry basket looks like it's about to explode, and I only have dinner about twice a week.

My life is a disorganized array of events, and I feel like I have lost control of it completely.

This is final year of medical school,

what did I expect?





x
Atiqah

hidup dah lain sejak separuh dari kawan-kawan (yang merupakan DUNIA atiq dalam kehidupan di perantauan) pulang memulakan kehidupan baru di Malaysia.

atiq dah jarang makan malam sekarang. tak suka. tak sama. mas dah takde kat sini lagi dengan atiq. rasa macam takde penutup yang boleh buat hati atiq tenang dan terima the fact that mas dah balik. mendadak sangat dia tukar fikiran. cuti musim panas haritu tak dapat jumpa pun.

dulu Raudhah bising dengan suara atiq, sampai aliyah merungut (haha).

sekarang, dunia atiq hanya bilik, dan Skype.

oh, tahun akhir.

how do you wish to see life?

I had a tutorial today, on 'safe prescribing'. Basically it's about the art of drugging humans out of their misery, without killing them completely and/or without screwing them over so bad that they actually notice that it was all our doing.

I am quite the cynic, in case you still haven't noticed.

'Give me an example of a combination drug, made to reduce the number of pills the patients have to take.' the tutor asked.

'Spiriva...' Niall replied, his voice trailing off at the end, suggesting that he was not sure with his choice of answer.

'Combivent.' I said, correcting him on the name of the combination inhaler that I knew was actually what he was thinking about. The tutor looked over at me and smiled. After tens of minutes has passed by with her neverending sarcastic comments on the politics of the pharmaceutical world, she turned back to me and asked;

'Do you know what the patient-based surveys discovered, on the colour of the pill that was thought by the patients to have the best outcome?'

'Blue?' I asked, smiling with the corner of my mouth, with a glint of mischief in my eyes. I turned over to my five groupmates and saw TJ looking at me, his expression mirrorring mine. Turning back to the tutor, I gave a tiny sigh as I realized that she, of course, did not get the humour behind my answer. She has went on to rattle about how the patients love the unexpected temporary high they get out of their steroids, and how they thus commonly associate this with efficacy.


Steroids are the little red pills.


The sheer irony of it all amused me to no end.



x
Atiqah.

Funny how things just...

When we moved in to the new house, I was automatically elected to make a house chores roster wheel, because I like to pretend I'm a creative artsy schmartsy person. I know, I can be a bit douchey sometimes. Bear with me, will you? You ARE my diary, after all.

So earlier today, after four whole weeks of procrastination, I finally decided that it's high time for me to make the damned wheel. Mostly because the house is currently resembling the aftermath of a tsunami. As I was rummaging through my arts and crafts box to look for coloured papers, something caught my eyes, and made me pause.

It was a sketch book, bounded in spiral, with a bright canary yellow cover. I bought it around July of 2007. Most of the pages have been torn out, there was only a few blank sheets left. Well...they were all blank, except for one.

There was a half-done pencil sketch of the small and disgusting pond in Fitzgerald Park. I used to go there all the time when I first got here. I used to LOVE that stupid pond.

As I was staring at that sketch, I remembered.

I remembered why I started drawing it,

and I remembered why I stopped,

half way through.

And for many reasons we both know, it all felt rather...bittersweet.

Funny how things worked out just fine in the end.

Funny how I've always thought it was impossible.



Funny how a terrible sketch can paint a love song in my head.



xoxo
Atiqah

I miss you, blog.

I miss writing blog entries that I'm proud of, that can make me think 'Wow...I wrote that?' when I read it later in life.

Being one of the MAFASYNZ, I've always been proud of my writing skills.

I can use the shitty excuse that is the 'writer's block', but I guess I won't.

I just need to read a couple of really good books, then I'll get right back on track.


x
Atiqah

gunshot roulette

'There's a reason I said I'd be happy alone. It wasn't because I thought I'd be happy alone. It was because I thought if I loved someone and then it fell apart, I might not make it. It's easier to be alone, because what if you learn that you need love and then you don't have it? What if you like it and lean on it? What if you shape your life around it and then it falls apart? Can you even survive that kind of pain? Losing love is like organ damage. It's like dying. The only difference is, death ends. This? It could go on forever.'

-Meredith, Grey's Anatomy Season 7 finale.

worry all we like, but decisions have to be made. no matter what happens afterwards, we just have to stand strong and face life as it comes at us, throwing rocks and glitter.

if we're too afraid to tread on thin ice, we'll never have a chance at something greater.



x
Atiqah

p.s. being a final year is scary.

blue moon.

I went by the entirety of summer of 2011 without a single blog post written. I had a couple of posts drafted, but never really got round to finish writing them. Having a Twitter account to channel 140-characters worth of random thoughts is a huge contributor to my absence in the blogosphere, but also is the fact that I have a Hareez in my life right now. He's been the friend I tell my darkest secrets to for quite a number of years by now, but. Things only just worked itself out for us, and...the rest is history.

SO much happened during the summer, that I just don't know where to start. It has been such a rollercoaster of emotions. I guess the most significant thing that needs mentioning here is...I'm getting married.

I know, right. Who am I kidding. Paranoid, jealous, worryball, commitment-phobe Atiqah, actually agreed to marry.



All hell is going to break loose,

Unless the lady graces the world with a bit more maturity.

I'll try to get there, guys. Give me some time.

Give me....one year and three months.






xoxo

Old blog post marathon

I was reading my blog posts in the year 2008 and 2009, and I realized that...


...I used to be SO much funnier than I am now.

Dublin, MARA, and Nyonya.

You know my name,
Not my story.
You've heard what I've done,
Not what I've been through.

Hey.

Blogging from Dublin. Brought my laptop here bc it's a light HP elitebook that I can carry in my handbag without my shoulder aching afterwards. It's really easy to make my shoulders ache. They be tres weak :(

When I got here this afternoon, I was proper shitfaced and confuzzled when I got off the bus because I slept through most of the journey (apart from the 40minutes in which I worked on an assignment because I'm hardworking like that). As I got myself orientated, I walked through the now familiar streets. Barely ten minutes into it, a middle-aged man walked past me and said 'SCUM' right in my ear.

This is the reason I hate Dublin, and love my darling friendly Cork no matter how much good food and major events are in this city, and no matter how much people like mocking Cork, calling it kampung and gabus. They have no idea how good life is in Cork :)

Anyhoo. I found my way to the MARA office (it was my very first time seeing the actual Clifton House after years of posting letters to it) with the help of a lovely junior (no thanks to Amin, who was in the movies and not replying to my texts, sabar je la aku). Pak Lan, the MARA officer, was in a meeting with the people from the Malaysian embassy, so I met with his assistant instead. He was very easy-going and approachable, though still maintaining that aura and mindset of a government officer (/official...?). We talked through the options and possibilities regarding my scholarship for next year, and at one point he asked,

'Kenapa sebenarnya awak datang...? Ada sebab lain ke selain dari ni?'

'It's so that I become a person with a face and a story to you....not just a stack of paperworks,'

He just gave a faint smile to me as a reply. He kept repeating 'Jangan risau...' though, so I guess that's a good sign.

I then brilliantly found my way through Dublin city to locate my friend Lala at the much-talked-about Nyonya, and akhirnya got to try their famous Nasi Ayam Hai Nam and bandung ais. And soya cincau. Haha...lagi 9 hari nak balik tapi kempunan tak tahan, asyik minum tea je kat sini, naik luga doh anok tekok.

That was the highlight of the short trip (I'm heading back to Cork tomorrow evening) so far.


Tomorrow I attend University College Dublin's MB BCh BAO Class of 2011 conferring as Amin's family.


xoxo
Atiqah

I have moved into Wilton Jaya

Hey, blog.

Almost immediately after my last summer paper, I took out my Things-to-do booklet and wrote a long list. The bottom of it read: 'Pack! Move! Unpack!'.

...and moved I have. This is my fourth house in Cork, and after living in the previous house for two years, I have completely forgotten how much of a pain moving houses is. I nearly went crazy.

I OWN SO MUCH CRAP.

Everything seem to be a bottomless pit of doom when I was packing, more and more things just kept coming out of my wardrobe and drawers. It wasn't an easy feat, moving into a room with half the amount of storage as my previous one. But I did it, and here I am blogging in my new room!

I must admit, though, I really shouldn't be complaining about this room because it's the second biggest in the house, and the only one with a double bed :D I've been pretty lucky because I always get the big rooms.

It's kind of funny living in Wilton Jaya (dubbed such due to the huge number of Malaysians renting here) because I can hear people walking past, chatting in Malay and I bump into my friends all the time. Bishopstown was a really good neighborhood and that house is pretty freaking epic,but we were literally the only Malaysians there. No idea why there aren't more people living there, it's not that different distance-wise from college.

In other news, I'm heading to Dublin tomorrow to A. Meet with the MARA Officer to appeal for scholarship for final year, and B. Attend Lynn and Amin's conferring. I can't believe they're graduating medical school! Time really do fly...I started writing this blog in first year! Wow. Just...wow.

Anyway. That's the update. Now you know :)

xoxo
Atiqah

animal cruelty

Last summer, there's this kitten that appeared out of nowhere, Awah just picked it up from under our pokok pauh to save it from the massive kerenggas that was swarming it. Because everyone else was squeamish, I ended up being the one to pluck the ants off one by one (they were holding on to it pretty strong). She was so small and looked so fragile, and her fur was similar to Ngiau's, so us being the creative bunch that we are, named her Mini Ngiau.

At first all was fine, even though Ngiau hated her and kept on sekeh-ing her head everytime she gets close, Ngiau would still share her food with her. Well, with our supervision of course. However, Mini Ngiau was too small and wasn't potty-trained. She kept passing stool on the mozaic even though she lived outside the house and the sand was literally just one meter away from her. To be fair though, she was really young and she still couldn't quite figure out how to jump across the small longkang that separated her from the sand.

I, being the one who's on a three month summer holiday, assumed the job of cleaning her kitten stool every-single-day, and the fact that she seemed to be on constant diarrhoea didn't help this at all. Ngiau was already potty-trained when we found her (/she found us) and she was our first cat ever, so we haven't a clue on how to potty-train a little kitten.

Ngiau has always been my cat and Mini Ngiau was my little sisters' favourite because she's prettier and her kitty-antics were hilarious. As the days passed on, I grew more and more annoyed of the fact that I had to clean up after her everyday, and decided that it's time to abandon her at the nearby pasar.

I know, I'm a horrible person :(

The kids hated me for a few days for doing that, but I just can't keep on washing after her every day and Dad would definitely get mad at us if I didn't.

I feel so selfish T________________________T

My youngest sister told me she saw Mini Ngiau when she went to the pasar one time, and it really, really made me sad just thinking about malnourished and tiny Mini Ngiau trying to survive the intimidating crowd of people and bigger street cats.

It breaks my heart. I feel especially guilty upon finding out that kittens can't process regular milk, they have to get lactose-free milk, or else they'll get diarrhoea. I was giving Ngiau the regular milk, and Mini Ngiau always shared the same one :( :( All the while it was my ignorance that caused her the diarrhoea.

Serious rasa bersalah gila and everytime teringat Mini Ngiau pun takut Allah marah sebab buat kucing macam tu, huhuhu.

Mini Ngiau, I sincerely hope you're doing fine :(


Atiqah

of blessings and plannings

Hey, future me? If you're reading this? Thank you so much for being awesome :)

I really like myself when I manage to really focus on my priorities and accomplish my goals. I can actually tell the difference between the exam times that I really, actually studied (tweet, facebook and blog way less, Skype almost none) and when I'm dillydallyin' it all and get so little done. I've always been the kind of person who put almost everything behind me come exam time - I studied like hell for my SPM and was legit becoming human zombie when I was doing my IB - but somehow I lost that part of me when I came to university. I don't know which changes that really got to me (there are many); the studying in my room without supervision part, the fantastic superfast wireless internet in my laptop part, or the lack of support from smart peers part. Don't get me wrong, there are naturally tons of brilliant colleagues here with me...but. I don't know. I guess I can't always depend on others, I have to learn to survive on my own as well. (Notice how I don't mention great teachers? I never did, and still don't, know how to make friends with my teachers.)

This time, however, I managed to put aside all else that is important to me, but matters less in terms of time and relevance, to focus on my studies. I think the major factor is the fact that Niesa was crashing in my room the whole time, and that smartypants really made sure I get my ass working (is that how that phrase go?).

And...for the first time since what felt like the longest time ever...I didn't have that heavy feeling in my chest after my exams. I didn't call Mama to cry, I didn't worry about it incessantly in my head...and it felt good. I really miss the feeling of actually knowing what the hell is going on, knowing the answers to the questions (so thankful to Allah for pointing me to all the right chapters), and being able to write a full body of essay without walking out of the hall early because I don't know enough to be spending the whole of the allocated time finishing the paper. This time I don't frown in confusion when my friends discuss the answers because I just haven't a clue. This time, my heart feels at ease.

I remember in first year, when Charlene used to ask me 'How was it?' every day after my summer finals and almost every time I said something along the lines of 'Really bad', and I almost killed her when I came home from my BH paper (the behavioral paper that we can goreng sampai hangus in the essays) and answered 'It was fine!' with a smile, and she replied with a 'This is the only paper that you are happy about.'. That sentence will forever be ingrained in my heart and my brain.

I also went that extra mile to make sure I get prayers from everyone this year...haha. I texted Mama (almost) every morning before and after my papers to make sure she remembers to pray for me in that exact time frame, she's always so patient with me tsk tsk. Love you mom.

It is almost silly how much I care about this year's results, but...as I had said so many times in the blog, so many things are at stake this time, and I really, really, have to do well.

It is obviously too early to really say I did well, but at least I gave it my all - even if I end up not doing all that good (nauzubillah), I would know that God has something better planned for me, and I want nothing else but the best.

For now, welcome back, hardworking self. I've missed you.


xoxo
Atiqah

Eh lupa nak tulis about the Plannings part, next time lah :)

no matter how hard I try to be nice

somehow adaaaa je benda-benda kecik yang atiq tersilap cakap/tersalah percaturan yang orang nak besar-besarkan, nak marah-marahkan. tapi yang peliknya diorang macam ok ok je dengan their friends. why is it when it comes to me, orang susah nak bersangka baik? somehow it's really difficult for me to master this whole thing, terpeleot dah lidah rasa cakap baik-baik dengan orang but then once i slip all goes down the drain one.

haih.

whatever.

i'll just keep faking being nice to everyone and not care about the shyte they give back, and be genuinely nice to the people i really care about and cry if they give shyte back T___T

it's okay, say what you want, in the end i dapat your pahala sebab you ngumpat i. fit your face who tells you to have attitude like forbidden.


atiq ada Allah.


x
Atiqah

SEMUA ORANG DAPAT HONORS

Sumpah Malaysians Class of 2011 pandai nak mati, ramai gila is going to graduate with honors!

Gembira/pressure/excited/tak boleh duduk diam/tak sedar diri sendiri tak habis exam lagi.



CEPAT LA BALIK MALAYSIA, DAH MERENG DAH NI.


ok bye.

My liver is felt.

Hai.

(harap-harap Niesa tak baca blog ni kalau tak kantoi tulis blog tak belajar hehehe 10 minit jeerw, promise)

Baru lepas satu paper, alhamdulillah it went alright. Hopefully I'll get, at least a humble pass. I can't describe this stupid awkward time in the year, when I'm torturing myself with so much studying but really all I want to do is go back home and have my summer break. I usually break down at least three times along the exam month and when I break I'd look for the person I feel most comfortable with. Because really, not everyone can handle the extra crazy vibes that I emit in May. It's not like I actually have anything to say to the person, and it's not like there's anything they can say to calm me down. It's just their voice. And knowing I'll be having this to go home to.

The person would almost always be Mama.

I know this is a bit too late for it to be relevant as a Mother's Day post, but I guess there's no harm in appreciating our mothers, no matter what day of what month it is.

Thank you Mama, for never failing to talk to me repeatedly in May to just hear me be obnoxious and overbearing, asking stupid things like 'Mama doa dok ko Atiq?' 'Mama makey gapo male nih?' 'Mama wak gapo tu?' and then the out-of-the-blue, typical si-gemok-Atiqah punya perangai, 'Atiq balik ni Mama keno wak aye percik.'

For I realize it takes a hell of a lot of love to be with me when I'm at my lowest, when I make no sense and have nothing of value to say.

Noone can love me the way you do.



x
Atiqah.

P.s. there's something about this simple mother's day post that warms my heart. thanks couz.

P.p.s. It's pretty difficult for a friend to make my liver felt. Usually it's the people I love most, and have high expectations of.

Dalam hidup ini, kita akan

• melalui saat-saat yang memalukan
• tersilap menuturkan sesuatu yang kita harap boleh ditarik kembali
  
• membuat keputusan dan pilihan yang salah
• kecewa dengan diri sendiri
• menangis kehilangan orang yang kita sayangi
• menyesal dengan tindakan yang telah lalu

tapi tanpa semua parut dan luka ini,

kita takkan jadi,

siapa kita sekarang.


x
Atiqah

the 10 minute walk

I stared at the pages of the General Surgery textbook, the details of triple A disappearing from the inside of my brain, and my mind began to wander into the details of summer plans. No. No. Must. Focus. I took my BlackBerry off the table and unlocked it to check the time. The watch read 23:01. Grabbing my hospital 'Visitor' ID, I stood up and pulled my grey hoodie tighter around me. Let's go for a short walk.

The hospital looked even lonelier at night. The orange and blue hallway was completely deserted, with just a cleaner wearing a black sweater mopping the floor. He looked up when he saw me coming, and I gave him the faintest of smiles. The constant smell of cleanliness and medication felt even stronger.

I walked past the curious room with the glass window, the one that has the huge teddybear wearing a pair of sunglasses just sitting there, watching passers-by. There was a doctor wearing a pair of blue scrubs putting money into the vending machine with chocolates in it. He gave me a friendly nod when he saw me walking past him. I hugged myself when the cold night breeze swept over me as I walked near the automatic sliding doors.

I was wide awake despite having slept quite late the night before, because of the cup of coffee that I made in the pantry. The staff pantry near the library. Somebody left the door open, so I walked in and helped myself to a healthy dose of lovely caffeine.

When I was walking back to the library, I saw two men walking side-by-side. Handcuffs binding them together. I can distinctively tell (from those weeks that I spent at the Psychiatry ward) that these two were a male nurse and a psychiatric patient with involuntary hospital admission. They were chatting and laughing away as they walked, as if they were the best of friends. As if the handcuffs never existed.

I reached in my pocket for the ID as I approached the library door. It gave a faint beep when I waived it on the scanner, and the little red LED light turned green.

Taking a deep breath in, I stepped back inside and walked to the table with my books strewn all over it.


I can do this. I will pass this year in one go.

* * *

Hey, just dropping in to say my exams kick off next week. Pray for me kay loves <3


x
Atiq

Summer is coming soon

Hey, blog.

So much is at stake this summer, it's getting more and more overwhelming for me. I just...I have to pass this finals, especially, in one go.

There is a constant melancholy accompanying me every single day lately, as one after one medical finals ended at the various universities my friends go (/went) to, and more and more 'Alhamdulillah...I am now qualified' appear in my facebook homepage.

Don't get me wrong, I'm genuinely happy for them, and I'm thankful that I skipped standard four so I'm actually the same age with the rest of the Malaysian fourth years...it's the weird sense of getting left behind that gets to me. Only a couple of people are staying back to work here, so I'm losing quite a portion of my friends next year. I've grown so used to having them be my family all these years, the thought of them graduating and going back to Malaysia for good is just so unbearable...

Anyway, here's a gorgeous song for you.

This is how I feel
Whenever I'm with you
Everything is all about you
Too good to be true

Somehow I just can't believe
You can lay your eyes on me
If this is a fairytale
I wish it will end happily

Even though we are apart I can feel you here next to me
Here and now I will vow, stay with me

Let me love you
With all my heart
You are the one for me
You are the light in my soul
Let me hold you
With my arms
I wanna feel love again
'Cos I know
Love is you

xx
Atiqah

Hilarious things that I did when I first gained independence...from my parents.

I am very clingy with my mom and would become an uber obnoxious and annoying daughter around her, especially when I am sick. However, oleh kerana Ayahnda adalah sangat menakutkan, Atiq tetap apply MRSM when I was in Form 3, determined to move out from my house. I sent it in without my dad's signature, and without my school's stamp of approval (because Naim understandably hates losing *cough*good*cough* students to MRSMs), and miraculously got accepted to MRSM PC anyway.

I eagerly waved my parents goodbye on that first registration day, after Mama unpacked all my stuff into my locker and put the bedsheet on for me. Little did I know back then, that I would struggle so much in those first months in boarding school.

I had absolutely no idea how to do anything. Noted hilarity that happened was;

• Doing a peer-to-peer survey on how many minutes does it take for my friends to wash each item of clothing...because it took me AGES.
• Asking my friend to do a demo on how she folds her clothes because she folded them so neat and meticulously, and no matter how hard I try, I was so shit at folding clothes (I am now ace at it)
• Asking my dormmate to teach me how to nila my school uniform because I tried and it turned out all blotchy and...sigh.

I also had no clue of the untold rules of hostel life, such as the 'AFTER!' rule of the showers and the no-sleeping-with-your-bestfriend-on-the-same-bed rule, because I came from a family of 8 sisters and this was the norm for me.

Also, the boys block was SO NEAR to ours that on the first few days, I actually thought it was part of the girls' block so...I...walked to the tempat sidai kain behind our block to hang my washed laundry wearing my towel. Just my towel.

*headdesk*

Needless to say, my dormmate was completely horrified when she saw this, and yelled at me to get back upstairs. I was bewildered at this seemingly unwarranted drama, but obeyed anyway.

Later that day, after things were explained to me (in a rather exasperated WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS STUCK IN OBLIVION manner), I felt like jumping off a cliff.

There was obviously a late-night roll call that night, because the seniors heard about a slut roaming around naked in her towel near the boys block. They had kindly included helpful anecdotes amidst their angry shrieks, such as 'don't think you can do whatever you like because you have a sister here'.

All I worried about at that point in time was my older sister finding out about what had happened. I was about as scared of her as I was of my dad*.


Such are the things that I was (am?) capable of, because I live in a world of my own.




xoxo
Atiqah

*to put this in context, she once yelled at me from the front door of my class during night prep because I lost her history textbook

coffee room moment

This morning I was sitting in the parents' coffee room in the private paediatric ward in the Bon Secours Hospital, hastily re-writing the forty* history and examination reports that I scribbled on the sheets of A4 paper haphazardly clipped on the orange clipboard I got for my birthday. A man with an epic beard walked in, presumably to make himself coffee.

'Do you mind?' He politely asked, despite the room blatantly being there for him, not for medical students panicking to finish work at 9am, right before the morning ward round.

'No no no, go ahead please.' I said with a smile, adjusting the pale metallic green stethoscope hanging on my neck and continuing to write furiously.

'Would you like me to make you tea or coffee?' He said, insisting to be nice and polite.

'No thanks,' I said, and paused for a few seconds to get a good look at him before adding 'Is your child in this ward?' because I know all of the patients in this ward and their parents, and I definitely haven't met this friendly middle-aged man.

'I do. He just got in yesterday,' He said. After going on a bit of a chat about his 6 children and joking about his career being a Nappy Changer, he asked another question;

'Did you go to that Palestine march we had in the city some time ago?'

'I did, yes.' I said, partially alarmed, partially amused as to where this is going.

'Yeah...I definitely remember your face'

**

It's good to know that somebody can tell the average-looking me apart from the sea of Malaysians (and the sea of people) at the march, after this incident.

Also, blog? I'm falling in love with Paediatrics.



xoxo
Atiqah

*the probability of this being a lie is as high as the probability of Heidi Montag being an actual idiot

Privacy issues

I'm paranoid about people judging me. Maybe because I'm judgmental myself...I don't know.

My blog is private, my twitter is private. I don't tell most people most things about me because I don't trust people in general. The rule in my head is - the less people know, the less they have to bitch about me.

Many things that I write on my Twitter and my blog are private and usually if people don't know something about me...it means I don't want them to know about it.

I hope I don't have anybody in here who'd go about telling people about what I write in my blog.

I'm assuming you're all nice and trustworthy. Well. That, or I'm really just a friend not worth gossiping about to you - that will work just as fine for me.

Yeah?

xoxo
Atiqah

p.s. oh my God sentence structure in this blog is just...i can't even.

Mentega

'This butter is so hard to spread'

'You should get the spreadable ones'

4 people at once : 'NO! THOSE ARE NOT REAL BUTTER!'

'Wtf?'

'I will sacrifice spreadability for the sake of eating real butter. The secret is to hold it in your hands...blow on it for a few seconds...'

'You're turning me on'

#lunchtime

demam.

Hai. Dah lama tak demam, selalu migraine je.

Semalam I can't sleep properly sebab I can't breathe. So I did what I've been doing from time to time for the past 5 years when I can't sleep - I call Arih and ask him to sing for me. He's nice. I like him.

Selama ni when my friends go all 'aaargh semua orang dah kawen stress stress' I just laughed because it never felt like that to me, I've always been the 'waaaaa cantiknya baju beliau' atau 'kenapa hantaran ni buruk tapi takpelah bukan untuk aku' kind of person.

But when Zaty messaged me on facebook last week to say she's getting engaged, it finally hit me. Everyone's getting married. Tipulah kalau cakap I don't want to get married as well, but it's more than that - it's the fact that when I finally go home to Malaysia, friends have moved on so far with their lives. They've worked for a few years, they got married...they've probably grown into a person I barely know anymore. And there'll be me, just sitting there, trying to fit back into Malaysia after 6 years of absence and stagnance.

Even though I know new friends will never be the same with the friends we make in school...I hope I'll meet awesome new friends. I haven't made (actual) new friends for so long.

xoxo
Atiqah

even though I'm not friends with Luke anymore, I remember a lot of the things he said. I think they're gold. mostly because he was high on weed half of the time.

everytime Aer Lingus send emails saying 'Fly to Chicago this month!' I itch to click it.

freaking Luke Willard. what the hell happened to you. I hope you haven't OD-ed.


'I'm curious to learn how someone so young can be so damaged'

x
Atiqah

Dear Diary.

Hey, I guess it's just you and me here now. Which is cool, because I don't have to worry about people judging me.

I realize a lot of things I said here are repetitious, and if one reads my blog entries back to back one would notice it. For the most part this is due to my being very forgetful (wrong career path, much?), but I wonder if it's because I type things to convince myself that it's true.

The best years in my life were my Naim years and KMB years because I met some of the best people in my life there. ZS was hell for me, and MRSMPC was too much to handle.

University? It has been a crazy bumpy ride for me so far, but it forced me to grow as a person. Sometimes I go back to my old ways (especially in Twitter...people who keeps in touch with me only via Twitter will probably think I'm an egoistic bitch, which is partially true), but I would usually quickly realize this and give myself a hypothetical slap to snap out of it.

Sometimes I think the reason I drag (a few) boys in my life despite my best efforts to stay away from them is because their friendship feel safer to me.

No backstabbing, no bitching behind my back. Well, at least that's what I think.

xoxo
Atiqah

I forgot to tell you : I have summer tickets!

Hello? Hi. This is a life update entry.

I don't know if anybody checks this anymore, but sisters, I'll be going home on the 10th of June. All the way to the 5th of September, which was a mistake because I thought it was a sunday, but apparently it is a monday. I wonder if anybody would be available to send me to KLIA that monday morning...? :/ Arih said I could check-in at KL Sentral, so if nobody can send me all the way to KLIA, I guess KL Sentral would have to do.

I decided to go home this summer despite circumstances because my fyp is based in Malaysia, and the fact that I'd learn so much more if I did my electives in a Malaysian hospital, AND, MOST OF ALL, I can RAYA at home this year! Well not really...I'm skipping a whole week of college to achieve that. Well make that a week + 1 day because I bought a monday ticket :/

Who can blame me though...I've been away for so long, that I lost a grandfather in that time frame. I've been away for so long, that my youngest sister take my absence as default and normal. Lagipun dah lama Atiq tak raya dengan mama, bangun pagi ada makanan raya atas meja...walau macam mana perit pun drama beraya kat rumah, takde orang akan faham perasaan Atiq selagi dia tak melalui lima tahun makan cereal di pagi raya...lima tahun raya tak salam dengan tokwe, dengan tok ayah...sampai dah takde lagi tokku untuk Atiq salam tahun ni, hanya tinggal nisan untuk Atiq siramkan...

Distance hurts, a great deal.


xoxo
Atiqah

EDIT : ATIQAH KALAU TAK MELODRAMATIK SAYALAH-ORANG-PALING-MALANG-DALAM-DUNIA MEMANG TAK SAH. MAAFKANLAH BELIAU.

This one's for you.

I'm like a black hole to the human soul
If one comes too close I shall
Drain the life out of him
I require hard work and an
Illogical amount of patience

When that rain comes down my chimney
And it keeps my fire from burning
I still just sit here, turning over the coals
And the ashes as they’re dying
Slowly flickering and flying
Tell me stories of the love I used to know
Where did you go? Baby, where did you go
And sweet baby I’m sorry that I purposely broke your heart
I never meant to rip it out of your chest
And tear it apart
It’s just a silly old habit that I seem to have formed
Whenever I fall in love
And honey I know I should’ve warned you
But other than that fact I’m really not that bad
Baby come back I need to get this out of my system
I need to shatter some glass
You know it’s hard for me to focus
Without breaking everything in my path
But if you stay by my side
You might be out of my range
Honey, I swear I'd change, I swear I can change, I swear I can
I sat with the ashes all night
My eyes were bloodshot
I couldn’t sleep or sit still
So I went to the doctor
And she says that I’ve got a disease
But baby please it won’t apply to you
I’ve been diagnosed as a crazy maniac
But what’s so wrong with that
Nobody deserves to be alone
Even if there is some sanity they lack
So forget my little issues
Your emotional scar tissue
And baby, please come back

Out Of My Range - Callie Moore

Tactless/Tactful

One thing I notice about Malaysians is we're very hostile people. We get mad easily, we jump to conclusions like it's our job, and we're very presumptuous.

Maybe I'm over-generalizing.

Today we had a meeting with a representative from medical school, along with a MARA officer, a JPA officer, and Dublin's Education Attache. In this meeting, we were given an opportunity to raise any particular concern about the medical school to the representative, with the hope for change.

The poor lady got bombarded with questions and requests, some of us practically ATTACKED her. Maybe they didn't mean to, but man, their tone of voice were sometimes just downright unacceptable. In my opinion, no matter how much we think we deserve the help, as long as that person is not clearly denying us our rights and especially if that person is trying their best to help out, we should never, ever, raise our voice or use an accusing tone.

Being Irish, I wouldn't be surprised if that smiling, calm woman would call a friend or colleague within two steps out of the lecture hall to bitch about how she had to stand there in front of nearly a hundred malaysians for more than an hour to listen to their demanding complaints.

Also, call me a stuck up or over skema or whatever you like, but I think people who talk about trivial things with anything more than a whisper during events are disrespectful and have no manners.

Ya, saya memang banyak protokol. My grandfather taught me well.

Kisah Hari Khamis

MULA.

Malam semalam aku tidur dengan perut yang sakit dan badan semerbak bau minyak Mestika. Aku ingat, kalau aku tidur, bangun-bangun esok kot tak sakit dah. (Kau ingat semua sakit pun sama dengan sakit kepala keeee Atiqah?! Penat je rakyat bayar duit suruh kau belajar medik)

Pagi ni bangun-bangun, perut cakap 'SURPRISE, SAYA SAKIT LAGI TEE-HEE'. Maka atas nasihat orang-orang di Twitter, saya ponteng my morning lectures. Satu pagi cirit-birit sampai setengah lembik. Setengah je lah, takde la lembik sangat.

Bila dah tengahari, perasaan panik mula muncul sebab perut sakit lagi. Kelas banyak lagi dari tengahari sampai petang, takkan nak ponteng semua? Banyak cantik muka aku. Kalau pandai takpe. Maka dengan perasaan yang berbelah-bahagi aku pun bersiap untuk ke kelas despite mulut rasa kelat, kepala rasa nauseous dan perut rasa what the hell.

Sebelum melangkah keluar, capai Blackberry. Ada msg tanya 'Are you okay?'. Setelah menaip 'I'll be fine' aku melangkah keluar rumah, hati penuh harapan agar bau minyak Mestika dah hilang dari badan.

Walaupun lewat 5 minit, berpeluh dan rasa nak pitam sebab tak sihat tapi jalan laju nak mati, rasa lega sangat bila sampai tengok kelas tengahari tak mula lagi. Tapi masuk je dalam kelas terus ada suara malaun yang memang hobi dia cari pasal dengan aku;

'Had a late night out last night, Atiqah? *gelak sarkastik*'

'*rolls eyes* I'm not hungover, Sheehan' ...aku cirit-birit la bengong. Sambung aku dalam hati. Tak ganggu hidup aku tak boleh ke, gergasi 6 kaki 2 ni?? Tampar karang.

TAMMAT.

the beautiful childhood memories that was, and still is.

• playing outside Ketani where the well-trimmed jejarum bushes were my fort.
• pretending the huge swing at my house was a spaceship.
• channelling a very agile monkey on that same swing, doing various extreme acrobatic tricks.
• staring at the high up water tank, wishing I had the guts to climb it.
• building a fort from cushions in Ramadhan with my sisters, waiting for 'ore mitok sedekoh' to come and then when they come, ignore the ringing bell and pretend they were serial killers out to get us.
• playing 'Dr Geletek' in which one person becomes the doctor who would examine her patients and the treatment for every single diagnosis was tickles.
  
• help my good-looking neighbour/boy buddy hide from another neighbour whose ultimate goal in life was to marry said boy.
• hitching a ride on my sister's bicycle while she cycles around the kampung, with the sister usually pissed off at me for making her do it.
• playing hockey behind my house with my neighbours, using planks of wood and a tennis ball.
• mengaji Al-Qur'an at the local surau near my house with the rest of the kids in my kampung...somehow I am very fond of this memory.
• riding a beca to and from taski with my cousin, reading out loud every single billboard we can see because we were obnoxious and loved being the smartypants in the taski.
• standing at the back of said beca where we usually put our backpacks in, and then randomly jumping off it (while it was moving) and then waiting for it to move a bit of a distance away from me. Then I would run after it with all my might and jump right back on.
  

That last one was my favourite game ever. I obtained many minor injuries on my foot because of it (pakai selipar je pegi taski), and eventually my pakcik beca worried we might get hurt playing this lets-see-if-we-can-run-faster-than-the-shaw game so he told us he got in trouble with the police because of it, so we had to stop. Well, I HOPE he lied.

xoxo
Atiqah

cool story bro.

When I was doing Psychiatry I got downright depressed because I couldn't handle all the negativity around me, I worry too much about the patients, and I couldn't detach myself from their tragic stories. One thing four weeks of Psychiatry taught me is that no matter how shit you think your family is, it is shiny unicorns and rainbows when compared to these people's families. Seriously. There's a whole different level of awful in families that you won't know about unless you talk to a psychiatry patient.

But now I'm doing Accidents & Emergency rotation. To those who can still remember ER, that's probably the closest picture of A&E I can give you. I thought I would like the adrenaline rush and the hecticness that is the A&E but I forgot one thing; busy medical staff don't give a crap about medical students. I REALLY had to push through to get my long check list of tasks (provided by the lovely medical school) done and signed for.

Today I was strolling in the A&E sighing because there really wasn't anything much to be done, and wishing something would happen. I stopped a nurse to ask if there was anything I can help with, and what she said really shocked me:

'Well no, not right now. But there's a plane crash and there'll be plenty to help with in a minute'

I immediately went WTF A PLANE CRASH DURING MY A&E ROTATION NO WAY in my head but then I realized how crazy it is and immediately regret wishing for unfortunate events for other people just so I can have something to do. BAD Atiqah.

So yeah, if you saw/read the news, I was there when it happened. Nearly punched a few people in the face because (OF COURSE) four of my selfish, kiasu classmates came down (along with FOUR freaking SECOND years WHAT THEF) to A&E out of nowhere and so I had to compete with them to do things. I was downright pissed because I NEED TO DO STUFF TO GET SIGNATURES GODDAMMIT. Competitive people have no respect.

Anyway. Okayokay sorry this entry has too much anger and caps lock. I actually ended the day crying in the theatre changing room because I felt like kepala and self esteem kena pijak-pijak and then kena campak dalam api (heh over kau Atiqah), because people kept ignoring me despite my best efforts to push through, and just thinking about having to do the same thing for the next week and a half just kills me.

I don't know. You have to be there, asking about 7 nurses and 7 doctors if there is anything you can do and whether you can do this and that and having them reject you over and over and over again, to understand my pain. It's difficult to fight the desire to not waste time and just stay at home and read books. Books don't reject. Books ALWAYS teach you.


Hugs
Atiqah

p.s. I started this entry wanting to write about the cool things that I saw and how one of the doctors asked me to take pictures (and how the nurses and paramedics and garda and management tell me to stop T__T ) but I digressed in a way that there is no turning back. Sorry!

maybe it's time to grow up

So I went to Bantry to visit a friend who's working at the hospital there (she has no friends there, poor thing). Bantry is a pretty little town which somehow manages to be both by the sea AND at the top of a hill. I'm glad I went there, it was therapeutic, getting out of Cork for a while.

As most of you probably already know, my housemates and I housed (twenty two!) friends who are studying medicine in Egypt and came over for their winter holiday (and got stuck here) for a few days. Watching them reporting to their family, the embassy, and their respective scholarship officers that they're safe in Cork living in a friend's house felt really...surreal.

I don't know if it's only me, but. I feel like I'm living through history. I know it sounds stupid because sure, history is written every day. But the sort of history that happened on 25/1 in Egypt is probably one that would go in college history or political textbooks, and I'm right there, giving food and a roof to actual people stranded from actual Egypt. It's just...weird.

And in the midst of it all I got a phone call from my friends in Poland who was travelling to London and booked rooms at the Malaysian Hall there. It turned out Malaysian Hall cancelled all their bookings to make room for the stranded Malaysians from Egypt. As a consequence of this, my friends ended up homeless for the night with no place to stay, and called to ask me if I had any friends in London (homeless friends seeking me for help seem to be a recurring theme here...).

You know what I realize from all this?

What I have, ALL that I have, is loaned from Allah. He can take it all back for all He care.

You're studying medicine and aiming for a degree in over a year?
Screw that, a freaking REVOLUTION will happen and you will have to go home not knowing when you'll be able to go back to college again.

You have a guy you plan to marry?
Screw that, you think he's a saint and put him on a pedestal...but he's going to go ahead and freaking cheat on you.

You have a pretty face that brings all the boys to the yard (LOL sorry can't help it)?
Screw that, you're getting an accident and end up with a distorted face for all your life and drown in a long bout of depression and self pity.

All true stories.

We take things for granted and kufur kepada nikmat Allah on a daily basis, over and over and over again. We make decisions to please people despite knowing it will cause Allah's wrath over and over and over again.

What if one day, Allah takes one small nikmat from us. Just a tiny bit. Like a finger. Our index finger. Damn, won't we be screwed for quite a bit.

But do we think to be thankful for all the things He gave us? Do we stop and think what we SHOULD (or shouldn't) be doing with our money, our time, our pretty face (??).

Some do. But most don't.

xoxo
Atiqah

(maybe it's time to grow up)

when dates are in the form of

Skype.

Laughing our heads off watching wayang kulit on Youtube because we're awesome, singing the same songs we've been singing for the past five-six years, discussing upcoming projects and ending with you yawning at about half past five in the morning after I made you listen to a Barbra Streisand song.

Distance is a bitch and Time becomes a significant variable when it comes to this girl called Atiqah because she's an indecisive prat.

In the end I'm just glad I have you as a friend.

x

30/12 Brussels - Can you speak English?

Conscience : Yo, Atiq.
Atiqah : What?
Conscience : You still have two more entries of the Paris trip to finish.
Atiqah : Meh. Not feeling inspired.
Conscience : Lazy bitch.
Atiqah : DID YOU JUST CALL ME A B...WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?!
Conscience : Your conscience.
Atiqah : Dammit. FINE. I'll write one tonight.

* * * * *

Hey! I'm writing this on the Thalys train, on my way back from Brussels, Belgium. We started today earlier than usual because we had to catch our train to here from Gare du Nord at 9h01 in the morning. I find the aerodynamic shape of the Thalys train rather futuristic, and watched in amazement at how the departure status board change (it flips to the right letter one by one...you have to see it, its great). Either I am easily amused, or very jakun. I reckon I'm both.


Looking out the window of the train on the way to Brussels was a bit nerve-wrecking because everything was covered in snow and fog, I was so worried Brussels would be freezing. At first it was indeed very cold, but it was at 5 degrees towards the end so all is fine.

To be honest our main goal for coming to Belgium is the chocolate and the waffles, and not so much anything else. But we did go for a visit at the EU government building seeing that it is the center of EU. It was unfortunate that the visitor centre was closed for the holidays though, it could have been way more meaningful than just a few pictures.


We then went to Palais Royale and Grand Place, a complex of 400 year old buildings with stunning architecture. From there we went hunting for lunch. We got very, very, lost.

Edit : aaannd then I decided I was too damn tired and fell asleep on the train. Hi! This is the present Atiqah typing this blog from now on.

Being lost wasn't much of a problem in Brussels though because, unlike Paris, LOADS of people speak English. However, this fact was unbeknownst to me when we first got there, and the fact that the bus driver referred to the monitor bolted at the top of the bus as the 'flying tv' did not help at all.

So when we were lost in the middle of the city near Grand Place I walked up to a (young and very good looking) police officer and asked;

'Excuse me, Sir...can you speak English?'

To which he replied with a bemused expression on his face and he bent down (he was at least one foot taller than me) and bobbed his head left and right, in what appeared to be a mockery of my question. After laughing at me for a good bit, he answered 'I sure can, miss.'

His directions weren't very helpful, so we decided to ask a few of the many (and I mean many) Muslims roaming the streets. They were very happy indeed to direct us to the Halal restaurants. To our absolute delight, the one we chose served the most delicious briyani I ever tasted in my life EVER, at a very reasonable price. This restaurant was the place where it became obvious to me that Belgian men are gorgeous.

(Side note : I left the restaurant for a bit to find a place with internet and print our return train tickets. I spent 20 freaking minutes trying to type the right password with the stupid European AZERTY keyboard to log in to my email)

We then prayed at a Pakistani mosque; the story of how we found the mosque was indeed very amusing, but I won't type it here, this entry is already too long. After that we split up to pursue our personal missions; mine, obviously, was Belgian chocolates and waffles. I managed to get both alhamdulillah,


...but not before getting lost yet again. And being Atiqah, I was slow to learn from experience. I stopped a couple of pedestrians to ask for directions, and started with - you guessed it -

'Excuse me...can you speak English?'

To which the guy replied (with a grin), 'Yeah I definitely can,' in a very obvious American accent.

*facepalm*

Markah memalukan diri sendiri sepanjang di Brussels : 873.


xoxo
Atiqah

an entry in bullet point.

• one thing my sisters and I have in common is we seem to think we're capable of writing a kick-ass novel.
• one good thing that has come from my insecurity (and overcoming it...somewhat) is that I can usually tell when someone's weird antics or downright stupid decisions stemmed from their insecurities.
• Room by Emma Donoghue, is one hell of a powerful book. I read that book online and I bought The Girl with The Dragon Tattoo because I can't help it..it's on almost EVERY SINGLE best-selling/recommended shelf in almost EVERY SINGLE bookstore I go to. And I go to A LOT of book stores.
• ...and then I realized that both of them revolved around victims of sexual offenders. what the hell is wrong with me?!
• I've written a couple of entries since the last one but they're on draft because I'm indecisive like that.
  
• this entry is riddled with grammar mistakes I better leave now.

xoxo

Friends Hostel : just another Paris story.

I have travelled to quite a few countries and in most of my travels, I'd stay in a youth hostel. The best hostel was the one in Nice; we got a fantastic rooftop room with good ambiance, fancy bathroom, and room service. The worst hostel (EVER) was - you guessed it - the one in Paris. The kitchen was really small and dirty, the dining area was an open space (worst idea ever, especially in freaking winter) in the middle of the building, and...don't even get me started on the dishes. We specifically asked for an en-suite room so we won't have to share with all the other random tourists with questionable hygiene, but, to our dismay, out bathroom includes a shower, a sink and....no toilet. I know. What. The.

At first I just brushed this over my shoulder and didn't think much of it because, after all, we're travelling cheap. However, something else happened that made it tumble all the way down to the Worst Hostel EVER rank, even worse than the one I stayed at in London.

When we first got there, I checked in for both ourselves and for our friends arriving from Sheffield later that day. However, they said the room wasn't ready yet and didn't give us the keys to that room. They gave us room 3, and said that the rest of my friends are going to be in room 25 for the first night, and would have to move to room 24 for the other 4 nights. Even though we weren't happy with this, they apologized and we just thought we'd let it pass. Malas nak create a fuss.

When my friends arrived that night, the owner of the hostel that checked us in earlier that day has gone home, and I had to deal with a different guy (who can't speak much English). This guy insisted that we're supposed to be in room 24, not room 25. Albeit confused, I was happy enough to check my friends in to that room, assuming it's a good thing because they wouldn't have to move anymore now that they're already in room 24. When we walked in to the room, however, there were other people's luggages in that room, and when I explained this to the guy at the counter, all he said was 'That's no problem! No problem!' and some other shit in French.

At this point I wanted to say 'NO PROBLEM MY FOOT LA WEI' to him, but I refrained. We then decided to move all the luggages down to the locker room and tampal a notice on the door saying sorry and letting them know their luggages are downstairs.

While this was happening to us, two American girls were yelling at him because they booked a room online (and paid in full) but there was no room for them when they arrived, and another Russian girl stood there, frowning, because her booked room was non-existent as well.

The next day was the day we went all the way to La Defense and came back really late after walking along Champs Elysees at night. To our absolute dismay, when my friends went to their room, they found out that all their things have been moved to room 25. Now, let me make a few things clear from this;

1. They invaded my friends' privacy
2. My friends' stuff was all over the room because they weren't expecting having to change rooms
3. The hostel management touched my friends' things
4. Their mineral water went missing
5. THEY'RE GIRLS, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD YOU CAN'T JUST TOUCH THEIR THINGS GODDAMMIT.

Anyway.

I told the guy at the counter (the one who can't speak much English) that he can't just do this to us, and he, not surprisingly, said 'That's no problem! What's the problem? No problem!'. Even though I felt a strong urge to kick his balls, I told him in a calm but firm tone that he can't invade our privacy like that, and insisted to see the hostel's booking record to reaffirm the fact that they won't just randomly move us to another room again. Sensing my discontent, he told me his boss was going to come in later that night, in case I wanted to speak with him.

Before we went for another episode of adventure in Paris the next morning, I stopped by the counter (manned, this time, by the multilingual owner) to drop the room keys. Holding out my hand to give the keys to him, I held it there in my grip and said,

'Don't move our stuff again,' with a smile. He looked at me and said,

'Well why didn't you move to room 25? I told you you had to,'

'No, you told us to move to room 24 FROM room 25, not the other way round. You even wrote it on the receipt,'

'Really?' He said, confused, and then he took the huge log book and started flipping through it to see the booking records. After a bit of flipping he stopped and said,

'Well maybe I made a mistake, I didn't realize'

At this point I stared at him, unmoving, my eyebrows raised.

'....sorry.' he mumbled.

I smiled a (bitchy) winning smile - that was all I wanted him to say (because what's done is done).

'I appreciate the apology,' I said, as I dropped the keys on the counter and walked away.


Moral of the story? Tell all your friends to NEVER step foot in this hostel. EVER.


(Jangan ingat mentang-mentang aku pendek kau boleh pijak kepala aku)



xoxo
Atiqah

some more of this.

Did I ever tell you that I always translate things literally from Kelate into standard Malay when I talk, and they don't always work?

At first my housemates never said anything about it and just gave me a blank expression everytime I say something that doesn't make sense to them. Usually I just confuse them because my pronunciation is always correct, it's just that people don't use the words I use for that particular context.

Example being; saying 'hujan dah serik' when the rain stopped pouring.

but since my standard Malay vocab doesn't seem to get any better and I kept on making the same mistakes over and over again, my housemates finally voiced their concerns.


Atiq : Eh...cukup pulak nasik ni. Tadi Atiq ingat nak tanak nasik baru sebab nampak macam siket

K Filah : *stares at Atiq in amusement*

Mas : Yang kau tiba-tiba puitis semacam kenapa?

Atiq : ...???? What??

K Filah : ahahahaha, tu la Mas, akak pun fikir camtu gak.

Atiq : Apaaaa korang niii??

Mas : Atiq, mana ada orang cakap 'tanak nasik'

Atiq : Salah ke?

Mas : Memang la betul, tapi bunyik dia puitis semacam. Masak nasik lah.

Atiq : Mana aku tauuuu habis tu orang Kelantan cakap nnanok nasiikkkk.

K Filah : Lagi satu Atiq suka cakap: dahaga *LOLOLOL*

Atiq : Habis tu kalau bukan dahaga apa???!?

Mas : HAUS LAH!


T___T

the dawn of a new beginning.

the title might have been the result of watching too much Merlin.

I started watching it after seeing my sisters mentioning it in twitter a few times and getting curious, so I downloaded the series.

that show has what I needed it to have; a lot of male characters, none PG18 scene (I am a grown woman alone in a deserted island*. It HURTS watching Blair and Chuck), and a good dose of magic, dragon, and mythical creatures. what it didn't have, unfortunately, is a group of witty and intelligent sriptwriters to pen an interesting plot. as much as I want to like it, the storyline gets a bit repetitive and dull after a while.

anyway. this entry wasn't meant to be about Merlin. I wanted to write about the constellations. my sister posted on facebook about the zodiac dates changing a little bit, and though I am not one who would care too much about zodiacs, it does disturb me somewhat, the fact that I am no longer a Sagittarius. My star is now Ophiuchus. My reason of being annoyed, obviously, is that it is a FREAKING NEW ZODIAC WTF?!**.

In reading many, many, stories involving mythical creatures I have grown very fond of (and attached to) centaurs for their bravery and honor. Never have I encountered a book that tells of a centaur being a villain, or a coward.

Sagittarians have a positive outlook on life, are full of enterprise, energy, versatility, adventurousness and eagerness to extend experience beyond the physically familiar. They enjoy travelling and exploration, more so because their minds are constantly open to new dimensions of thought. The vices to which Sagittarians are prone are anger they tend to flare up over trifles; impatience - they want to rush every new project through immediately and demand too much of colleagues who cannot work at the pace they require; and scorn of the inadequacies of others while expecting fulsome recognition of their own efforts.

...that sums me up pretty good, actually.

In my annoyance, I looked up what all this Ophiuchus is about. The symbol is of a man holding a serpent - despite my secret wish of being a parseltongue, I do not identify with a serpent at all so this didn't please me. Since this 13th zodiac is relatively new to those who didn't study astronomy, there isn't much written about it. However, something in its wiki page caught my eyes;

One of the most used symbol of Ophiuchus, is the Rod of Asclepius. This symbol is no stranger to me. I see it almost daily.

It is, indeed, the symbol of healing, widely used by those who practice medicine til this very day.

The Irish Medical Council

xoxo
Atiqah

p.s. It didn't escape my eyes that someone has cleverly added the link http://news.blogs.cnn.com/2011/01/13/no-your-zodiac-sign-hasnt-changed/?hpt=C1 at the bottom of Ophiuchus's wikipedia page. I like discovering the random subliminal messages people put into wikipedia pages just for laughs.


*that may have been an exaggeration
**fish. I meant fish, of course.

29/12 Paris, Day 3 - I'm a sucker for pretty lookout points

I'm typing this as I wait for our dinner to be served. We're eating at a Pakistani restaurant at Chateau d'Eau, and I just ordered Beef Vindaloo. Good thing I'm an expert in Indian food, because it's the same thing everywhere, so the french menu was a piece of cake when you see things like 'boeuf Vindalo' and 'poulet Tikka Masala' on it (I took Spanish and knew 'pollo' means chicken. Not exactly rocket science to figure that one out).

Today we walked up the stairs to the top of Arc de Triomphe, and breathed in the spectacular star shaped roads panning out from the roundabout around the arch. Its amazing how Napoleon originally planned this to be the gate through which his victorious armies would march through when they come home from battles. Engraved with names of wars and their generals, it is now just a place where people mostly just visit to take pictures, stare questioningly at the statues and wonder how much power is being wasted keeping the 'eternal flame' alight every single day, all day long. But it does all that with magnificent style, of course.

'eh asal smalam nampak besar lagi bendalah ni?'

Haha...tadi tu dari tepi rupanya -____-" Malu je orang sme pandang amek gamba kat situ.

Champs Elysees from the top of Arc de Triomphe. At the very end of one of these streets panning out from the Arc, we could see the modern Grand Arche at La Defense that I put pictures of a couple of entries back.

After that we walked down Champs Elysees again, this time in bright daylight. We didn't spend as much time here as we'd like, because Mas went to Louvre and texted us to say the queue is absolutely insane. So we hurried down the piss-smelling tube station again, and waited for the train (with an excellent saxophone-playing street musician providing a most pleasant background jazz) to Place Monge to pray Dhuhr/Asr at our beloved Paris Mosque.

I was touched when I heard the Dhuhr athan at the mosque...I miss hearing it recited live,instead of a pre-recorded playback one coming from my laptop. We were lucky enough to be able to join the prayer in congregation with the rest of the Muslims (a wide variety of skin tone and hijab style, with Islam being our only common factor), and hurried to get ready for our Louvre experience.

When we got there, we immediately divided ourselves into two groups to take turns taking pictures and lining up at the same time. I went with two of my friends to line up first. When we were queueing there, minding our own business, a French man came to stand directly beside us, holding a sign. He was the museum's employee, holding up a multi-lingual announcement placard. We stared hard at the paragraphs to locate the English version, assuming the guy couldn't speak English. All of a sudden he said;

'Can I help you, miss?'

To which I replied, 'Oh, sorry. Was just looking for the English bit.'

'It says you will reach the ticket counter in an hour and a half'

'Oh! That's not too bad. Thanks!'

'No problem, anything else I can help you with?'

'Nope, we're grand. Merci!' I said, with a cheeky smile. What? He's cute.

'You know what, miss? The entrance fee is free for you if you're studying in a university in an EU country'

...and just like that, we paid nil for our entrance to Louvre. The weird thing is, it's not written ANYWHERE on the information leaflet that we could get in for free. Trust me, I looked long and hard. If that guy hadn't told us about it, we'd have spent 6.50euro each. There were 9 of us. That's a LOT of money saved.

some random hobo I met at the Louvre

The weird thing is, when we wanted to go up Arc de Triomphe earlier that day, I told the lady at the ticket counter I wanted to buy Adult tickets, and cheekily added that we bought Paris Visite tickets yesterday and didn't use it for discount purposes at all...just in case we can use it today (when it clearly stated on the Paris Visite tickets that we can only use it on the day it was bought).

She took one look at me, winked, and said 'yeah sure', to my complete amazement. But that's not all. She also added

'You sure you want ADULT tickets, miss? Adults are over 25s,'

'OH. Really? I mean...what do I get then? Child ones?' stupidest question of the century.

'*laughs* No, but you can get cheaper ones,'

We got half priced tickets. We saved TONS that day, alhamdulillah. My friends semua cakap nasib baik Atiq yang pegi beli, so muka kanak-kanak yang tak logik above 25 at all, sampai orang tu heran apesal nak beli tiket Adult. Haha....cis kau. Padahal nak gelakkan aku pendek. Bagus punya kawan-kawan. I'm just going to go ahead and take it as a compliment.

Louvre experience was...amazing. I can go on FOREVER about the things in there. If I went there alone I could've easily spent double the time there than I did that day, but alas. Travelling in a group requires tolerance. Not everyone wants to spend hours on end looking at important pieces of history (Code of Hammurabbi! WHAT...I can't even) and legendary paintings (Mona Lisa! WHAT). I won't be pretentious and claim to be in LOVE with museums...but this was the first international museum I stepped foot on, one that displays historical artefacts from all over the globe. Their wide collection was actually really impressive.

This was from a Roman empire building, if I'm not mistaken. It's MASSIVE, and it was one of many, many, tiangs (somehow I can't recall what tiang is in English) that look exactly like it, that was part of the building. Bayangkan how enormous the building was. Bayangkan sekarang.

Tomorrow we head to Bruxells!