After ten years.

I am now rereading Christopher Pike's the Last Vampire series (now called Thirst 1, 2, 3 and 4). I was 16 when I first encountered the mad magic of his professional yet youthful wordplay. I was the only one in school the kakak library would lend to more than four books at one time. I was crazy in love with Christopher Pike and I managed to finish almost every title by him in the school library. Then I left school for UiTM. Some years went by and I began to choose the people I read. I forgot about Mr Pike for a while. At one point I even thought that my teenage obsession towards his books existed because I was a teenager and I hadn't read that many authors yet. That was insolence no matter the angle you try to look at it. Reading his books literally reformed and refined my writing skills, although what most of you may have read in this blog are just average posts written in average English - believe me, I was so much worst. So yeah. Insolence indeed.

Ten years have gone. The Last Vampire now has 8 major chapters bound in four volumes. I now own all eight and have started rereading the series yesterday. My progress? 5 books in two days. Not that impressive, really - one book has at most only 200 pages. Now I'm starting book six - Creatures of Forever. The crazy thing about this whole matter is the fact that after ten years, Mr Pike still amazes me with his lovable characters, his stories and the unpredictabilities of the plots. He amazes me with everything he does. Every single thing. And if it's possible to marry a writing style, I'd marry his. Haha.

I don't know how he looks like. Wiki says he has very few interviews due to his highly private life. But I really hope to one day meet him. To personally tell him what wonderful things reading his books has done to me and how much being able to understand English means to me because I could enjoy his writings. His language is simple, but the depths of his stories go way beyond the dark of your thoughts and that's what I like best about his books. How he could make me feel deep emotions with non-complicated strings of words. Not many writers do that that well, I can say that for certain.

You'll find titles with vampires in them spilling off the shelves in bookstores. Take my advice, choose his. Read all eight of the Thirst. And try Twilight or Darren Shan after that. Because the Last Vampire began in 1994, long before the Cullens and Shan began and Sita is a 5000-year-old wonder with a beating heart. Or you can try something older from Anne Rice - the Vampire Chronicles which I read when I was 13. Because Interview with the Vampire was published in 1976 and Lestat does not sparkle in the sun like a gaytard emotional undead. Pft.

I'm trying to collect Mr Pike's books now, starting with the Thirsts. They're some of the things that made my teenage years a part of my life I'd always miss. I miss the innocence that I was when I first read him. I'd do a lot of crazy things to feel like that again. Because growing up reading is something I'd very much love to relive, over and over again.

If any of you or some people you know own his books and are thinking of selling them, I'd love to be the first to know. I'd be thankful and we'd be friends. That I promise.

Now, how have all of you been in my absence?

Aku ada alahan kat lagu Nicki Minaj. Kau nak buat apa?

'Aku tak layan lagu Korea ngan Jepun ni, bukan aku paham pon. Kau dengar JPOP dengan KPOP ni, kau paham ke ape diorang nyanyi? Aku layan English je.'

Ya lah tu kan. English la sangat. Kalau tak tengok lirik, tak cari translation, kau pun tak faham Lady Gaga tengah maki bapak mertua siapa. Meluat aku dengan makhluk macam ni. Dah engkau tak minat, tak nak layan, kau pergi buang masa buat rugi kapasiti otak kau duk risau pasal level kefahaman aku kat dua-dua bahasa asing ni buat apa? Macam aneh gila kot. OK so memang Hangeul bukan third language aku, tapi siapa yang decide bahawa aku cuma boleh dengar lagu dalam bahasa yang aku faham saja? Aku dengar sebab aku suka the music and the sound of the language. Why does it matter to YOU whether or not I understand what they're singing? Why does it bother you that I'm listening to a language I can't comprehend? Why does it hurt you that I can enjoy things I can't understand?

Kau faham Bahasa Melayu kan? Tapi kau sumpah-seranah siap downgrade menghina lagu-lagu Melayu dengan artisnya sekali kan? Aku tak defend siapa-siapa, aku cuma hairan apa masalahnya dengan some people yang tak boleh accept bahawa ada sekumpulan manusia kat Malaysia ni yang suka dengar benda-benda yang mereka tak faham. Aku tak faham Hangeul, tapi aku dengar KPOP, why is that a problem? Aku tak faham Nihongo, tapi aku suka JPOP, why is that a problem? Aku sangat faham English, tapi aku allergic gila kat lagu-lagu Nicki Minaj, jadi kau nak bakar rumah aku kah pulak?

* * *

'Aku tak berkenan lah artis-artis JPOP dan KPOP ni semua. Pakai singkat nak mampos cam pelacur je. Yang laki nye pulak sibuk jual muka jambu, cam bapok je.'

Yang ini lagi aku hairan. Tak ada siapa suruh kau berkenan pun. Mereka pun tak berkenan kat kau. Sebab kau tak hensem langsung, haha. Yang pakai labuh tak macam pelacur tu Muslimah beriman, bro. Kau tengok SNSD yang kau sendiri tahu tak Islam, pastu kau expect mereka dressing sopan buat apa? Reasoning skill kau mana? Dan jual muka jambu lebih baik dari tak ada apa yang nak dijual. Jambu-jambu pun ada orang sayang, ada orang peduli, siap beli album lagi buat kayakan mereka. Kau? Belum tentu ada muka yang worth it untuk ditengok pun kalau bahasa kau guna macam tu punya gaya. Heh. Oh ya, kalau bab menjual muka mereka jambu tu jadi masalah, kau nak blame siapa sebenarnya? Nak salahkan mereka yang menayang muka atau Tuhan yang menciptakan muka mereka semacam itu? Hoho. Kadang-kadang mulut kau jadi cepat tak tentu pasal bila kau cemburu. Aku faham itu.

* * *

'Aduh, KPOP lagi. Naik benci dah aku. Amende yang best sangat dengan KPOP ni?'

Dah kau taktau apa yang best, macam mana kau boleh benci? Haha. Memanglah nak benci nak suka tu pilihan kau, tapi biarlah ada reason yang kau sendiri boleh faham. Ini orang nak anti, kau pun nak anti, tapi tak ketahuan pun puncanya. Kotlah mereka pernah mengorat kau lepas tu tak jadi kawen, belasah adik kau sebab  tak mandi, guna iPad mak kau lepas tu tak pulangkan, aku fahamlah kau nak benci. Sekarang ni mereka dressing tak Islamik sebab mereka tak Islam dan menayang muka sebab orang-orang macam aku suka tengok (buat motivasi nak flawless-kan muka sendiri), jadi kenapa orang macam kau boleh jadi benci tak ada pasal? Haha. Tu lah, nak hating nak liking apa-apa pun dalam dunia ni, jangan ikut orang. Sudahnya kau keluarkan statement bijak pandai macam tu lah tiba-tiba. Menyampah for no reason. Malang betul jadi kau kan?

Kau tahu? Hating itu sebenarnya a confused form of liking. You tell everyone you hate them, but you keep yourself updated with their news just to keep telling people how much you hate them. LOL, the opposite of like or love is not hate, pal. It's neglect. So if you don't like them, don't bother about them. Bukannya ambil tahu dari hujung dunia sana sampai hujung dunia sini artis mana tidur dengan siapa. Itu dah obsessed dah tu. Lagi obsessed dari peminat mereka pulak kau kan? Hehe.

*senyum-senyum* Ini bukan post sakit punggung (butthurt). Ini post panas hati. By the way, this is SHINee. They have jambu faces. And they make big money; with or without them - because they have talents. Very unlike some very unlucky people. LOL. Later, everyone.

Or anything else less impressive.

Here's a thing about me; I don't beg for trust. Liars beg for trust. I don't. That's why you'd never heard (not even once) and you'll never hear me say, 'Trust me'. We've seen movies where people who crush hearts, who break promises, who destroy hopes, who terribly disappoint initially offered a very convincing 'Trust me' right before turning their backs on the unfortunate souls who had granted them the trust they requested. You and me, we've all seen that. So I don't. I'm not that. Not even close.

Now, if you think by telling me that you don't trust me, or that you can trust me today but not three days later is going to change anything or leave an impact or something, you're thinking it wrong. I don't give a damn. Because like so many others in the world who are like me, I am honest with what I feel about many things. I am honest with what I feel about you. I have always been. I'm not that strange to a point that's unbelievable. Maybe to you I am. But I don't care. Really. I could be the strangest creature on earth in your eyes and so what. As far as I'm concerned, if you don't or can't trust me, that simply means you're still denied; by yourself, the pleasure of knowing me for who I really am and that's OK. That's really OK. I just seriously think you should change the contact name you decided for my number in your phone. I'm not living up to that honor if the very thing that makes me that; your trust, comes and goes like the wind. Just call me Nani. Or anything else less impressive. It would hurt you less when you're not in the mood for trusting.

p/s: This is not an angry post. Also not a hurt post.

p/p/s: That's my lazy-ass handwriting you had just read in the picture.

Later, people.

Forgiving is divine,

but in your case, it's gonna take a lifetime.

When it happens (II)

SHE'S 

BROKEN.

THIS

makes me so happy! Urban Decay's Eyeshadow Primer Potion - everyone,

meet Eden and Sin (Yeah. The very names.). My student, Nadiah helped save my life by buying me me these (will pay her tomorrow!), I bet she sort of kesian kat this poor teacher of hers yang 

histeria sakit jiwa wanting these so much. Haha.

p/s: Now waiting for the 15-Year-Anniversary Palette to arrive! 

Thank you Mohamad Lutfi bin Mohd Tahir.

Your kindness and muka tebal masuk SEPHORA buying 

a limited edition eyeshadow palette will forever be remembered. 

*hugs hugs hugs* 

OMG I'm so excited! I'll upload the picture of it 

bila dah sampai nanti tau. Hehe.

Readers: Wait, WHAT? But this is MAKE UP! Nani Othman doesn't do MAKE UP!

You know what, I do. And I am obsessed with eyeshadows.

What about you girls? Let's talk makeup, shall we?

When it happens.

SHE WAS JUST

ANOTHER ONE.

'ling, you speak lah Malay. Ke shy nak use BM?

This kind of people just pisses me off to no end. Engkau sendiri pun bercakap campur segala mak nenek, engkau nak suruh aku pulak cakap Melayu. Gila panas lah hati aku setiap kali jumpa orang macam ni. Siap tuduh aku tak patriotik lagi tu. Eh, pleaselah smartass, speaking English does not grant me a permanent citizenship of the States (macam aku hendaklah bukan, jadi American tiba-tiba) - so aku sumpah lah tak faham apa masalah engkau nak kata aku tak patriotik. Aku tak malu la nak guna Bahasa Melayu - dah English happened to be a more efficient language untuk perbincangan masa tu, aku gunalah. At least when I use English, I try to not sound stupid. Daripada engkau yang selit English words (siap pronounce salah lagi tu) kat merata alam dalam percakapan Melayu engkau tu kan? Annoying kot!

Aku have absolutely nothing against people yang salah sebut sana-sini, we aren't native speakers, we make mistakes. Aku cuma panas kat orang macam tu bila mereka suruh aku cakap Melayu sedangkan they're not doing it.

* * *

Selamat Hari Raya Aidilfiri everyone! 

I hope to be forgiven. 

And thanks for being around. 

Later then.

Stalemate, for the moment.

Many of you are not going to get it, so I'll just keep the comments section closed for this one.

It's a work in progress. I think it's going to be big, since I'm working on it with Zarif and Azuan (though Azuan is practically still clueless about this) - my two trusted companions. I'm excited. Really am. And I'd never attempted anything like this before - it's based on a real life encounter with the most evil person anyone could have ever met. I mean, we'd done some really good ones before, and those had sent my psychological age several centuries up which could be good in some ways and terrible in some others. But this one is different. This isn't going to be something just anyone can relate to. This is going to be strangely familiar to some, completely frivolous to some more but just perfect for the right group of people. Heck I really don't know. This is as real as it's going to get. Part of me is still recovering from the storm. Other parts of me are plotting damage. Which is pretty much indicating a comeback stage. A huge-ass comeback stage.

The whole month I spent dealing with this inspirational (at last!) madness had definitely sent half of my maturity down the drain, half of my sanity down the same drain and almost all my intelligence down a specific drain - which was incredibly disastrous. I've had my share of trouble, pain and loss. I had discovered a side of me I had never known before. And I had learnt that the crazy part of me is still alive - the one that turns every rock into a diamond. I think I'm sane enough if I'm that crazy. Haha. I think I'm sane enough to be that crazy.

Told you no one's gonna get this. But I just wanted to write. My fingers were itching.

So yeah, it's sort of a stalemate for the moment.

Why only lesbians would love Seth Tan.

Right. I have never seen Nora Elena. But I've heard from many about how good it is. A girl gets raped, marries the rapist and lives happily ever after. Couldn't think of a better plot myself - being the future JK Rowling. Seriously.

Anyway, I also heard that the rapist turned husband is one of the most romantic male characters ever to grace the TV screen, so most girls I know went nuts at the slightest mention of Seth Tan. Which is something I don't get since he's a rapist. And he didn't get caught for raping. And he lives a great life, becomes successful and gets to marry the girl he couldn't stop himself from violating some years ago. Pretty much a life any rapist would rape for. Pft.

Now some of my married girl acquaintances too, were so much in love with this guy Seth Tan. They were like, 'Kan best kalau hubby I macam tu?' Which is something I can never digest - you want a rapist for husband when you're married to a nuclear engineer? Talk about being ungrateful. And insane. I thought I was crazy to 24/7ly spazz about Bradley James. No. Seriously. I really did.

And I was also told that I would never understand what this madness is all about since I'm not yet married. Fine. Maybe I don't get it. But it's definitely not because I'm not married. I mean, he's a rapist. He intentionally destroyed a life and nothing could change that. Not that I like Nora Elena or anything, but yeah, it was intentional. So, fine, I don't get it. But I know enough to not wish for my future husband (whoever you are) to be a rapist.

OK. 'Now what's with the post title?' some of you might ask. We're getting there now.  

LOOK AT THE PICTURE - CLOSELY!

Photo courtesy of Kak Imm.

Get me? Honestly this Ahmad Seth Tan whatever could be the most romantic knight in shining armor from the seventh heaven for all I care, but if he's actually a FEMALE then what's the point, really? Married females everywhere had been hoping for a female husband and Nora Elena spent years being traumatic because she was raped by a girl. Like, honestly, I really don't get where this drama came from. I really, really don't.

So I admit. I don't get it. As far as I'm concerned, I'm a woman, straight, and I'm destined to marry Bradley James. And I pity them married women who had been so ungrateful about being married to real men that they are wishing for a female sexual predator instead. Really.

Alright. I am bored. Thus the post. 

What's new on TV lately, people?

And how's everyone?

I wish

that you had paid attention to my favourite songs,

because the lyrics are the things I wanted to say to you, but am too scared to.

Yes. 

Memang teramatlah lousy menjadi seorang pengecut.

* * *

Ada sesiapa pernah brave enough pergi buat confession cinta kaseh

to anyone? Come on. 

Share.

Chapter: Random Dua

Sometimes I lie, when I have to save my skin. Sometimes. Sometimes I even use people for my own benefit. Sometimes. Sometimes I let other people take blames for things I do. Sometimes. Because I have days on which I have to be a coward. I'm not all courage. But after everything is said and done, I'd apologize. I'd sincerely apologize. Because if there's one thing I really fear is that death will come before I'm forgiven for the mistakes I did. I fear not being forgiven. It would be like a curse - not being forgiven.

*

Henry David Thoreau kata, 'If a plant cannot live according to its nature, it dies; and so a man.'

Aku percaya manusia pada nature nya baik-baik belaka. Jujur-jujur belaka. Ikhlas-ikhlas belaka. Maka aku juga percaya manusia yang jahat dengan sengaja, tipu dengan sengaja - semuanya mati cepat. Ataupun nak mati tak lama lagi.

Jadi kamu-kamu yang berasa menjadi penipu itu cool, cepat-cepat take a deep breath, stop lying and start living.

*

Don't try to be someone you're not. Let people love you for you. You were born an original. Don't die a copy.

In every sense.

Stuffed rows and rows of colorful book spines, of various heights and thickness, bleached by time, ran along the walls in the shelves, looking like they had been there since time began. Some were so curious-looking with the golden letterings of the title half faded, while some gave out the proud impression of being new additions to the family. Most of them were neatly covered with clear plastic film and there were some that looked as if they were given brand new jackets. It was a sight you would wish to see, anyone would wish to see. And the familiar, heavenly smell of yellowed, aged, printed pages filled the air.

The atmosphere then felt just right. Perfect. They would have impressed anyone, even you. The house was, in all its senses, down to the last brick, a home filled to each and every corner with books. Literally. It was my definition of Wonderland, orgasmic in every sense.

Several silent minutes must have passed as I was standing there motionless, still in awe and unbelieving. Bracing myself, I took some brave steps towards the shelf closest to me and I touched the crimson spine of a big book. Ten thousand volts shot up my brain as I ran my fingers down the almost faded silver letters. 'Alice,' I read quietly. God. This was as real as everything else under the sun. 'In Wonderland.'

I promised myself last night,

that I would have fun today - since yesterday was mentally disastrous for me no one needs to read about it.

Now I'm at this Creative Writing Workshop which is held in Penang. I'm currently staying at Hydro Hotel which almost kicked ass but one of the tables in the dining hall was wobbly so it didn't. But it's badass enough. At least the food is. And the room.

OK. Field trip. Today. I brought a pen (borrowed from Hanizah from MRSM Terendak because I had stupidly forgotten mine) and sheets to write on but I guess pictures say more than I ever could with a hundred pens. So here they are!

The English teachers on their way up the bus. That's MRSM Balik Pulau's
bus, if anyone's wondering. I got to sit at the back. Because I like it.

These are the two speakers. The person on the left is Mr Jayakaran
Mukundan, next to him is Mr Alan Maley. These guys are great.

Here's the Teluk Bahang jetty. The smell of the sea - priceless.

This is the crazy cool time capsule at the Pusat
Interpretasi. We get to write notes to the people in 2071.
I wrote mine which sounded like this, 'This is Nani
Othman from year 2011. I hope you guys still have
lush forests and running rivers. I hope there's no
more war, too.'

This is the red bark tree. I don't know what the real
name for it is. The guide guy said it's just called that.
The red bark is used to make dye for batik
painting, which is awesome. And it can be
soaked with fishing nets to make them last
longer, which is also awesome.

I'd call this the Wishing Stairs. I had so badly wished
that they would end soon. I'm really bad at trekking.

Now this, according to the guide, is the most dangerous
tree in the forest. It's called Rengas Kerbau Jalang. The
sap can cause extreme itch and you'll need to be rushed
to the hospital immediately. But you can delay the
damage with mud - which reminds me of the poison
oak in the movie Coraline.

Fish. OMG. Fish.

THIS, PEOPLE, IS THE REASON I put up with the insane jungle trekking
trail. These little packages of miracles just stole my heart away. I even get to
pet one OMG it felt like heaven! They're so fragile yet so strong like -
the moment they leave their eggs they just started living on their own,
so unlike many other animals. They're my heroes.

This is the guide I'm talking about. Name's Aidrul and
he said I look 23. Which makes him one of the most
awesome persons on earth. 'I've been in here many times,
but this is the first time I saw so many butterflies along
the way. That black and blue one you found. saw it today
for the first time. You brought luck.'

And this, is the boat we took the ride back on. The boat I went diCaprio-I'm-
the-King-of-the-World on. THE RIDE WAS RIDICULOUSLY AWESOME!
The greyish green waves were great. Around the rocks they were
pleasantly greener. I didn't get seasick, which was wonderful.
Come to think of it, I never did, so I guess it really was
wonderful.

Man. I really did go diCaprio on it. 

So did I have fun? I definitely did. I made a new friend, Aidrul. I learnt really neat stuff about the jungle. I got to know another side of me I rarely get connected with. I got to appreciate baby turtles OMG, they are just amazing beyond reason! And I got be really close with nature for several hours which was really, really magical. Really, I've had a great time. An incredibly great time. Thank you, God.

Phew. I need to get rested. My eyes are crazy heavy. I'll see you guys around.

Oh.

One day I might return here. 

For the baby turtles, of course.

I was unstoppable.

Back then when I was in high school, I could finish three to four Christopher Pike novels in a day. I was unstoppable. Right now, I actually have to steal some time to read just to maintain my sanity. I wish I could have more reading time. What I have now is not enough. 

There's already a long queue of titles that I need to finish before the year ends so I could start a new list next year. That, people, has never happened before. I had always bought new books because I have nothing else to read. 

I really need more time to hog the books. Or I'll crack.

What have you guys been reading lately? Share with me!

...being ordinary?

'I biase biase je.'

Aku sikit pun tak percaya yang Tuhan pernah mencipta seorang manusia yang biasa. Aku rasa being ordinary tu equals to being bukan manusia. Please lah. Thankful lah sikit Tuhan beri pada engkau akal. That particular thing diberi percuma kepada engkau sudah lebih dari cukup jadi bukti bahawa tidak ada manusia yang ordinary. Pft.

p/s: Kawan aku percaya yang sepasang kasut cantik can be trusted untuk bawa kita ke tempat yang cantik. Aku rasa dia banyak berangan. At this time of life siapa nak pergi ke tempat cantik? Aku nak ke hati yang cantik. Hati yang cantik.

Take good care of your heart.

The first thing about Asmahani Asmat - my best friend in the whole wide world - is that she gives crazy good advice. Any given time for any situation. Most of the times she sounds like she's a hundred years old. The second thing about her is that she's my best friend and I consider myself very lucky to have her around. We might not talk everyday, but if there's anything I can say about our bond - it's permanent and it's ordinarily unbreakable. We're the best of friends. Like the best friends of the world.

I get to be my craziest self when I'm with her without worrying of being judged. I get to talk immense nonsense without having to hide anything. I get to love her all I want without caring if she loves me the same way. I can stop making sense and she would never question my sanity. I get to say stuff I don't dare to say to others (yes, readers, there ARE people I can't just say things to, happy?). And probably the best thing about being with her is that I don't have to behave myself at all. Yeah. I don't have to fulfill anyone's expectations. I get to be selfishly me. Which is something I rarely get to be these days.

I practically trust her with everything, including some secrets I usually share only with my sister. Right. Earlier today, I did spill something right into her lap because I could no longer take the stress. So the third thing about Asmahani is that she doesn't have to say much about anything to make me see sense, even when I hadn't actually spilled every last drop of my problems. I could say she saw right through me. Right through everything I said and told me something no one ever had the nerve to -

Take good care of your heart.

That was all it took and everything just falls into place. Maybe I'd been way off the track by letting my heart make all the decisions that are - amazingly I must say - stupid beyond my massive abilities to comprehend stupidity. And that's like despite the fact that I'm a considerably smart person, almost as smart as my overachieving mother. So I guess telling people to use their brains before acting is so much easier than actually doing it. I wasn't using my brain. That much insanity is not forgiveable, I know. I almost got myself into trouble for letting my heart do most of the thinking.

Take good care of your heart.

The moment I read that was the moment I realized how much I'd been missing her all this time. I miss her wisdom. I miss feeling young and clueless around her. I miss having her say one simple thing and clear up one whole mess. I miss having her save my retarded ass everytime I jump off a hypothetical bridge. I miss having a best friend so close to me I could just walk straight into hell because I know she'd bring me back. Because she always did. And she always will.

She made me realize something else, too. You don't just stop loving a person. You either never did. Or you always will. And that's something you don't learn from just anyone.

For nearly a month, I was lost. I couldn't find a way out of the mess I didn't start. I didn't know who to turn to. I didn't know what to do. Then Hani happened all over again. And my wings are no longer broken. I'm soaring right now. Just the way I used to be.

For this, I have only God to thank. Alhamdulillah for the person named Asmahani Asmat. I love you to pieces, best friend. I hope we'll last forever.

A hundred years from now.

I finished this book yesterday. Sumpah habis merembes air mata! I tau, memang sungguh kurang sopan sekali membaca buku sedih serupa ini sambil berguling di katil dengan air mata penuh di muka. Tapi the book is a wonderful read. It reminds me a lot of the kind of sister I am, and the kind of sister I wish to be and the kind of sister I hope I'd never have to be. I've asked myself many questions along the way, half of them are still unanswered even after I finish the book, but somehow that's OK. Because I don't need them now. Not yet.

The book touched my heart at all the right places. Feels great discovering that you can feel a lot of people at the same time. And for the I-don't-know-how-many-th time, I envy Picoult's ability to write extraordinary stories using the very ordinary, everyday vocabulary. OK, envy is an understatement. I want to be able to write like her. I want to have a copy of her storytelling gift imprinted in my DNA. I want to leave the kind of impression she leaves on me, on my readers. I want that much. And maybe so much more, too.

I was never her fan until about 2 or 3 years ago, when I bought The Tenth Circle (my very first Jodi Picoult book). And then it becomes an obsession - wanting to write like her. Because I realized that after one or two chapter, her writing made me feel so small. Because she seems to know so much. Because it seems like all the characters in her book had personally told her what to write about them. Because they are so real. And I don't have 'real' in my stories. I need 'real'. Badly.

Reading her stories make me dream. Or to be exact, it makes my list of dreams longer. It also reminded me of what I used to want when I was younger; of my selfish wishes when my brain wasn't functioning the way it does now, when my heart could want so many things at a time. She made me look back into my childhood, which is something I rarely do. Because of the regret and heartbreaks that were graffitied on the walls of my past. But when I did so yesterday, it didn't feel so bad anymore. I'm still able to dream. I bet I'm still able to make more of them come true in the near future. But then again, how near in the future are we talking about? How near is near?

So My Sister's Keeper made me ask myself a lot of things. One of them was something as simple as 'What did I used to want to be?' I remembered how I used to want to be a doctor. I wanted to be a mermaid. I wanted to be a witch. I had wished to be a comic artist. I wanted to own a bakery. I wanted to be a florist. I once wanted to be a surgeon too, at one point in my life. And as far as I can remember (oh, I remember a lot), I had never once thought of, 'What if I'd never make it to university?' or 'What if I'd never get to finish high school?'

All my dreams were things so far ahead they were beautiful just thinking about them. So when I read about Kate Fitzgerald who had almost nothing to look forward to because she could die anytime, I felt terrible. Because a part of me felt incredibly sorry for her, for people like her, for families of people like her...and the horrible part of me was thankful that leukemia didn't happen to me, or anyone in my family. I don't know if that was simply being human. I just know that I don't like the way I felt.

Now I'm a teacher. I teach students how to write correct English the way I know it. I teach them how to speak correct English the way I know it. And I have new dreams, too. For me. For them. For many others. I want to see them become the people they're meant to be. I want to be a part of that circle in their lives; a part that would mean something when they reach the future. I want to be able to smile when they do. 

I also want to have a personal library. I want to build a house for my cats. I want to own a bookstore the size of Kinokuniya and I wanna name it Shaariah's. I want to have a family. I want to have kids. I want to be famous. I want to sign my own books my fans bought. And this list can go on for another hundred miles if I want it to.

I don't know if any of them would come true. I think some of them might. Some of them might not. Some might even be replaced with new ones. But there's one that will always stay in the list, and it'll keep coming true every single day for the rest of my life. No matter what. 

A hundred years from now, I'd still wanna be Nur Farhinaa's and Muhammad Nazif Aimaan's sister.

That much I know.

Am I still being read?

OK, first of all, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for being gone for quite a while (Alright, alright! I have been gone for several centuries, I know, and I apologize!). I'm sorry for not writing even a single bit of a sentence worthy of anyone's reading time. I'm sorry for not returning the visits. I'm sorry for not dropping comments on your blogs. I'm sorry for being gone. I wouldn't bet that you guys (if I still have any reader) were waiting for my making a comeback or anything – my head isn't that big, you know? But I still feel guilty for not writing because I sort of feel like some people might still wanna read my written self-centeredness and insane ego. So here I am, back from the blogosphere reign of Anubis. I'm as alive as you are.

Right, I've been living life like crazy – shopping for my very first Camelot retelling production, making the props and costumes for the play, collecting money, using the money, going to school at 7 in the morning and going back at night for two consecutive months, coaching a drama team for the Camelot retelling (I don't wanna talk about the competition, though), teaching (of course~), breaking the hearts of some people, cracking the heads of some other people, marking exam papers – you know what, this is even craz – who wants to read this anyway? 

So yeah, I've been working myself excessively before this was published so you could say that I finally have some time to be spent with myself at home now that it's school break. Hehe. With my books. Which is something I have almost gone stupid missing doing. And lately, I sort of feel like a different person. I guess the two months spent with the kids changed some parts of me. Some significant parts or me. And I like it. I really do.

So school break started. I managed to finish The Throne of Fire by Rick Riordan. Found out that I like Carter a little lesser now, and I like Sadie a lot more, and I think Anubis is hot. Haha. Bast didn't get to shine so much this time, but it's still OK. Walt is quite cool, so I thought that if Sadie didn't get to be with her 5000-year-old crush, she could be with Walt. I sure hope he doesn't have to die. And page 91 drove me insane because Carter thought he saw a flying horse in the sky of Manhattan, which could have probably been Black Jack in the Percy Jackson series, or any of his chicken pony friends – so the book was automatically an awesome read. 

Before The Throne of Fire, I was reading I Am Number Four, which was promising at the beginning and turned out terrible as I went on. If you think Bella Swan sucks, you haven't read about Sarah Hart. And John Smith couldn't have been more uninteresting as a major character. He's downright annoying and selfish and not so smart. A total waste of narrating pages if you ask me.

I like strong guys in books. You don't have to able to fly or shoot laser beams from your eyes or lift an entire continent into the sun to be considered strong – just at least please do have a reason for loving someone; other than because she's an ex-cheerleader who happens to like photography and doesn't have superpowers. And those are the lamest of reasons to fall in love with anyone - he sort of reminds me of that walking disco ball who fell for Bella because he couldn't read her mind (which is a major Duh! since she couldn't have had one). Like, please have a mind that works, for once. Or try to have a personality that makes sense.

After that I managed to finish Maximum Ride: Angel. It was such a painful read I don't even wanna talk about it. But if you'd care for a reflection, you can read it here. Though I have to warn you that it is extremely biased and personal and selfish. And I know that's nothing new for those who know me.

So two months, around three books, I really need to kick myself. That's like what, epic laziness? I figured that I need to do something about it, and I'm doing it. I'm reading. Currently I'm speed-reading the second book of Tunnels, Deeper by Roderick Gordon and Brian Williams. It's a good one. The details, the dialogues, the narration and the character development – I'm satisfied with almost everything about it. So I guess this is going to be a good one.

*takes a deeps breath*

Two months of nothing and a comeback of biased reviews, I hope that would mean something to my readers. I had been through some really hard days; days I don't even wanna remember. I'd gotten involved in messes that might have reduced around ten years of my entire lifespan before I got out of them. I'd pissed some really important people off. I've made some enemies accidentally. I'd necessarily stabbed some people (not in the back, of course). And I have had my heart broken to pieces so small it'll take I don't know what to have it mended (and no, it's NOT a guy).

I won't be gone for so long again, I hope. I'll try hard. For those who waited, thanks a lot. That means so much to me. For the recent followers who got surprised at how random this blog is updated, I'm sorry. I'll try to be around more often.

Now, how is everyone? 

Anything new?

I wrote. Click it!

HERE.

I'm on my way back. You. Wait.

Seriously. 

I sort of, well, forgot that I have a blog. And even if I had remembered it, I wouldn't have been able to write anything.

My heart was broken on the 19th of April. I'm still recovering. But then again, maybe I don't really wanna recover, which explains why I'm still bitter even after so many days. Yeah I don't wanna recover.

I want a payback. 

So freaking badly.

And Zarif said, 'Then I'm with you.'

OK. So it's payback.

World, you won't be spending much time waiting.

That, I promise.

23032011

'Teacher, thank you so much for everything you've done for my son.'

* * *

I love my job like no one understands how.

'I mean I hate you.'

'I didn't think you'd be heartbroken about it.'

On his face was that wonderful look of guilt.

'I don't think you can even think.'

On mine, was the ugliest nonchalance I could manage.

'I should just apologize.'

That was him. Taking the easy way out.

'No, you shouldn't.'

That was me, brokenhearted.

'Then what should I do to fix things? To fix us?'

He was almost bored.

'I don't want us fixed. We should never have happened.'

'You don't mean that.'

'I mean I hate you.'

But I don't believe in constructive criticism.

People told me I'm a terrible critic. Frightening and absolutely mean. That I make many things look bad. Books, for instance. See here and here. And TV dramas. See here and here.

Thing is, people, I don't do critiques. I'm not even qualified to do any because I can be downright biased about many things just because I need to piss someone off. I'm selfish. Just like everyone else. And most of the things people refer to as my criticisms were not even close to one. I just happen to express my dislike towards things a little slightly too obtrusively, not sometimes. So it is often that I become the antagonist in so many people's eyes.

But honestly I tell myself insanely destructive things about my own works most of the times. That's why the written journey of Ig and Nina hasn't had any progress since a century ago and for that I profusely apologize! I haven't had any motivation to keep writing about these two people I really love, so as you can see for yourself, the blog is stuffed with virtual cobwebs you could virtually suffocate yourselves there anytime. It's the best place for the grossest way to virtually die. And I apologize to everyone who has been waiting for my chapter 6, truly from the deepest abyss of my heart and I promise to work faster so please don't give up on me!! And yeah, you know I should just go on with this post.

The thing about being opinionated, loud, offensive, and different, my dear readers, is that people tend to see you as someone lofty and imperious. Ask anyone. Ask yourselves.

I ask myself these several times when I read disturbingly negative, but grudgingly agreeable reviews on books I tremendously like; 'What is this feeling? Am I angry because there are many points that I grudgingly agree with, or am I hating the person who wrote this for realizing things I wish I had, earlier?' Most of the times I'd say 'Yes', also grudgingly, to the third the question. Then I'll start forming the image of an officious smart alec behind the reviewer's nickname in my head just for the heck of it, though most of the times, the image looks like me. Which doesn't fix anything, really.

Now, it's not a good feeling when you discover that dark side of yourself. That you can actually hate someone you don't know, for all the wrong reasons. OK fine, 'hate' is a strong word. I'll use 'despise' then. I still find that side of me scary. But at least I don't picture someone else when I'm at it.

I guess I'm sometimes annoyed at people for seeing more sense. But I'd like to believe that I am actually annoyed because I felt immature and stupid. Like you were having a wonderful dream and your mum just boomed through your bedroom door jerking you back to the fact that you were late for school. Or like you were taking a stroll in the park and you saw a hot guy running towards you and as he ran past you, instead of saying Hi! he gave you a slap on the face. Not pretty things to picture? I know. I'm weird like that. I bet some of you are weird like that, too.

So yeah, I'm no critic. And I'm very good at receiving constructive comments or views. On anything. As long as I detect no malice in between the lines. But I don't believe in constructive criticism.

My take on it? It doesn't exist.

Now what about you guys?

What kinds of misconceptions have people ever had about you?

Share with me.

Nani Othman, do you tweet? (LINK UPDATED)

Yes, I do. Sometimes.

Here.

Regret.

Annoying Stranger: Ekceli, I don't good in talking English well.

Nani: I can see that.


* * *

Yeah I know. I could have been nicer.

But you did notice the word that comes before the word 'Stranger', right?

So yeah.

Apa salah babi?

The first thing about my father is his being the luckiest man in the world because his eldest daughter is yours truly. And the second thing about my father is the fact that he used to smoke. Yeah I did write terrible things about smoking and smokers. And I was thinking about my father half the writing time.

I hate smokers. I do. I say insanely hideous things right to their faces. 'Pakcik, why on earth are you killing yourself? Do you hate God for creating you from earth because you wish to be made from fire? Is that why you're smoking?' Yeah I wish I could say that. But most of the times I just politely say, 'Pakcik, jangan merokok dah tau. Sakit pun dapat, duit pun habis, dosa pun banyak. Kesian famili pakcik. Nanti pakcik mati, siapa nak jaga anak-anak pakcik, kan? Kalau mati serentak satu famili, alhamdulillah, boleh jumpa balik dalam kubur. Tapi, kalau mati dulu, kena libas sorang-sorang. Tak ada teman nak melolong sama-sama.'

So yeah, hate me. These murderers are desperately begging to be spoken to like that, or worse.

Are you one? Don't tell me. I don't wanna hate you.

I can only express my humble gratitude to Allah SWT for saving my father's life. He's up and walking, thank you God. And he hasn't been smoking since he left the ward. For that too, Alhamdulillah sangat-sangat. And you guys, who had been so nice in your comments and wishes and prayers, God bless you.

So let's talk stupidity and double-standard, today. Alright?

I don't get smokers. No I don't. I don't get why they wanna kill themselves. I don't get why they're spending money on something that vanishes into thin air after crapping in their lungs. I don't get why they wanna kill their whole family and everyone else, slowly. The sadism. The insanity. No I don't get them. And I don't get the hypocrisy. THE DOUBLE-STANDARD, people. It just baffles me.

Which hypocrisy exactly am I talking about here?

This one.

Man A : This is London, dude. Don't waste time looking for HALAL logos. We have all the reasons in the world to eat bacon and pork!

Man B : Seriously, mate. You're sick. Babi tu haram, bawak mengucaplah, kawan. Jangan macam ni.

And Man B says that in utter sympathy for his sesat friend - Man A - as he breathes out several puffs of Dunhill.

I mean seriously, people. Babi is haram. Rokok pun haram. And both men are Muslims. But suddenly one can smoke and the other is OK with it, while the other wants to eat pork but the smoker suddenly speaks of haram?

Apa salah babi? Why the double-standard? Dua-dua benda pun haram kan? Jadi kenapa satu dibolehkan (tanpa sebab), satu lagi tak boleh? Babi ada buat dosa apa dengan engkau? Rokok ada bagi apa pada engkau?

Answer me if you want to.

But this is what I believe.

Alang-alang engkau dah suka sangat makan asap haram dan menjahanamkan hidup sendiri, baik engkau makan pork terus. Siap dimasak, boleh makan dengan roti buat sandwich, dan confirm mengenyangkan. Plus, tak ada nikotin masuk buat neraka dalam paru-paru dan jantung engkau. Gigi engkau pun tak bertukar warna serupa dicat dengan najis. Badan engkau pun tak berbau macam manusia malang yang rumahnya terbakar tetapi lupa nak telefon bomba. Dan muka engkau pun tak nampak macam makhluk ngeri yang hampir mati sebentar lagi.

Both are haram. But why choose to damage your body when you can do meat and be merry?

Smokers tak pandai guna otak. They're not good at making choices. At making decisions. And they still won't stop smoking even after realizing that.

A friend said this to me:
Nani, I rasa you terlalu extreme dalam berbahasa, dalam memberi pendapat. Manusia ada sebab sendiri untuk bertindak sebagaimana yang mereka rasa patut. Kalau semua benda mesti diukur dengan agama, kita takkan ada individualiti. Setiap manusia berbeza. Dan bukan semua benda perlu dilihat dari sudut agama. Sometimes, we have to look at it dari pandangan humanity dan acceptance. Kita semua manusia. Tak sempurna.

Dan aku rasa engkau gila, friend. Sorry. Aku memang rasa engkau gila.

Sebab setiap saat hidup kita ada timbangan dosa pahala. Tak ada waktu yang sesuai untuk kita melihat sesuatu perbuatan dengan berlandaskan perkara lain selain Islam. Kata engkau Islam is THE way of life, kan? So why do you go the other way when it comes to smoking? Tolong explain, boleh? Kalau engkau mampulah.

Take your time. I'll wait.

* * *

So hey there, people and wonderful readers!

How are you guys doing?

Pukul 2 pagi tadi

Maak telefon.

'Hello, Maak,' Aku jawab.

'Nani, tadi Ustaz Manzur telefon. Dia pi kem dengan Ayah bawak budak-budak.'

'Ustaz kata apa?'

'Ayah masuk hospital. Serangan jantung.'

* * *

Masa tu Aku ingat Aku akan rasa macam apa yang Aku selalu baca dalam buku. Masa macam terhenti, jantung tak berdegup tiba-tiba, air mata tumpah tanpa sedar, dunia busy body gila nak berkecai dan whatever jadah shit corny nak mampus punya pengalaman. Rupanya tak. Kantoi kot penulis-penulis buku ni semua tak pernah ada ayah yang masuk ward sebab serangan jantung. Tipu gila apa yang mereka tulis.

Sebab apa yang Aku rasa itu satu benda baru. Perasaan yang engkau, engkau, engkau mahupun ENGKAU tak mampu namakan. Engkau boleh bayangkan ada gunung atas dada engkau? Engkau cuba darabkan beban itu dengan seberapa banyak nombor yang engkau tahu. Sampai hancur kalkulator imaginasi engkau lagi bagus. Itu pun baru sezarah dari apa yang Aku rasa masa itu. Sezarah.

Dahsyat, bukan?

Kamu semua, Aku minta tolong doakan Ayah. Itu saja.

Nanti bila Aku dah mula waras, Aku update. Until then, you guys take care.

Salam.

I pinky promise

to update my blog after Minggu Aktiviti! I know, I know, I know how TERRIBLE my blog looks, with nothing but old posts and just that. So yeah, after Minggu Aktiviti, OK? And I promise to reply to every comment from everyone! I'm just insanely busy these days, so, you guys be good, alright? Later!

Someone actually made it public that I inspire him. OMG.

Now why don't you guys check his Youtube channel out?

I meant the above note for people who do not know of this cool friend of mine yet. 

Before you die of shame, go.

Haha.

I'll see you guys around later.

And ah, yeah. That's me; smiling at his answer.

What?

I'm normal!

Britney, outgrown.

People do sometimes ask if I had ever listened to any song sung in English, since most songs I have downloaded are either Japanese or Korean. The reason? I'm Asian. So I pretty much listen to Asian music. I really have nothing against American singers, unlike what many people think (I just think Justin Bieber sucks). But I might have lost the connection to their music. That's all.

I used to listen to lots of English, back then when I was in school, when even Britney Spears' songs had some substance in them (now it's just sex and sex, so I got bored). I listened to tons of Backstreet Boys and 'N Sync, too. And a bit of Westlife. Just a bit. I can't stand musical marshmallows melting in my ears (that's what I think their songs sound like – sweet but too gooey for my liking). I could sing a song or two – or more, without tripping over the lyrics. Sometimes I even sang with my classmates. Those were pretty times.

I guess I grew out of American Pop music. I've outgrown Britney and her used to be snappy dance steps (I was not very much interested in her singing, most of the times she was just nasal, and I'm no fan of nasal) and 'N Sync's beats. Now I listen to W-inds (been a fan of these guys since I was 17), BoA and SHINee though I don't really get what they say even at the best of times. But their music speaks to me. And every song is a language of its own, no? It reaches different people differently; beautifully. So yeah. I don't listen to much English these days. But I believe I still listen to good music.

As far as I can honestly remember my school years, most of my girl friends wanted to be just like Britney. Back then in their eyes, she had everything. She had money, she had fame, a pretty face, a sellable nasal voice and a wonderfully sculpted tummy most of them wished they too had, so they could wear tight, low-cut jeans to freaking Kangar. But we can't stop how people wanna grow up, can we? So now Britney still shows her wonderful tummy (and lots more, you know she does) my guy friends used to drool over; she just doesn't sing innocence anymore. She grew up.

Today when I look at how much I had grown up since those days, I couldn't exactly believe where I am. I used to think my teachers were really cool people, like really cool people. Now that I'm doing what some of them are still doing, their coolness literally rocked my world. Like, literally. They had done SO CRAZY MUCH it's not even funny. I don't know if any of my kids see me the way I used to see my teachers, but I'm not gonna be surprised if they don't. This is, my friends, a crazy hard job to do. And to be likeable while doing it might even be harder. 

I grew up, too. I realize that. I used to care about what people might think of me, as if they mattered. I used to wonder if there will ever be one day when I can please everyone. I once even thought money can't buy happiness. And I can't remember ever giving much thought about what I wanted to do after I leave school. TESL just happened because I love English. And teaching happened because I have always loved school. For a path that easy, I have only God to thank.

So here I am. Now. Thank you, Allah;

Britney Spears outgrown, and learning how to make my kids better English speakers and writers. And I'm struggling insanely hard. But this is what I love to do. So struggling or worse, I'll make it through smiling. One day, it will all pay off. I know it will.

Right.

What have you guys outgrown as you grow up? 

Do share.

To ALL readers.

I just need to ask this:

How many of you actually come back to NaniScribbles! after you dropped a comment to read my reply?

Because I reply to EVERY comment. I hope no one feels like, 'Eleh, dia ni tak baca pun komen aku. Nak balas lagilah.'

I repeat, I reply to EVERY comment!

Now answer me. 

If you always come back to read my replies, say, 

'I!' or 'Saya!' or 'Aku!' in the comment box!