tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2802366395160509992024-02-08T06:21:49.603+08:00antara bulan dan madu...antara fantasi dan realiti...
---and everything in between---afirahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11402705656964035160noreply@blogger.comBlogger233125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-280236639516050999.post-26941180574824260052012-10-05T13:07:00.000+08:002012-10-05T13:28:13.749+08:00Second. <p class='bloggerplus_text_section' align='left' style='clear:both;'><br><br>I see this everyday and I wonder, how does it feel to do as much as you can but could never top up the first? I'm talking about my Dad. He says this everyday, I miss your Mum. I just wonder, if the step mom hear this, how does she feel? And he always says, no matter what, your Mum is the best. Man! If I were the step mom, it would probably broke my heart.<br><br>I guess in being second, you should realize you can never be first. Never. I guess you should accept that. Right? But it isn't fair, isn't it? Everyone deserve to be love. Wholeheartedly. But in this case, step mom will never got a hundred percent, right? I mean, in whatever, you will always be compare. And she will always lose. No matter what.<br><br>Whose fault is this? My Dad? The step mom? <br><br>At first, I was mad at my Dad. Like he betrayed my Mother. Like all those years of love and promises went down the drain. Like my Mom never matter. Like all he ever wanted is a wife that took care of him and his kids. That's all. But it was never about that. He misses her too much. Way too much.<br><br>But where's the fairness in this? Marrying someone else so he can cope with his sadness? And in this situation the step mom became a victim. Maybe she's the one who should be blame. She let herself to be put in this situation. If she didn't agree to marry, this probably wouldn't happen. She knows she'll come second. She knows. She should see this coming. Right?<br><br>And living under the shadow of my angel Mother. Not just by my Dad, but being compare by everyone else. <br><br>I sometimes puts myself in her place. And I don't think I can. I can't deal knowing he have someone else in his mind while staring at me. I can't. Yes, it was his wife and she died. But still...<br><br>If ever that I'm dead before my husband, I don't know if I'm okay if you marry again. It's okay if you wanted someone taking care of you. But you have to promise to love her as much as you love me.<br><br>Hugs.</p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><div id="cse-search-results"></div>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="http://www.google.com/afsonline/show_afs_search.js"></script></div>afirahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11402705656964035160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-280236639516050999.post-48804620107356600312012-03-16T15:30:00.001+08:002012-03-16T15:30:41.536+08:00Gift <p class='bloggerplus_text_section' align='left'>Wah! I know many wouldn't agree with me. But I do no like to celebrate annual celebration. Birthday especially. Here's why; it's a waste of money.<br><br>And many would argue with me. I get it. People love gift, presents. I do too. It's just that I don't like annual gift. I do not like that you have to buy me a gift because it's my birthday. The thing about presents is, you always have to get something better, bigger and pricier. If you don't, you love her less. Less than last year. Hehe.<br><br>My friends would oppose to this the most. They celebrate to the littlest things. Well, I was brought up in a family who doesn't gave gift on birthday. I rarely celebrate it. In exception of my sister. She would even make a party for herself. But we do get gift for achievement. Does that counts? I got graduation gift, top three gift and sort.<br><br>So don't start buying me gift. If not, I would want it every year. I would expect it from you every year. Unless, you have a long list of gifts you wanted to buy me. To tell you the truth, I don't. <br><br>They say it's the thought that counts. How much you think about buying a gift, and how far would you go to get it. That's the thing. Buy. If it's thought that counts, why buy? And doesn't it become monotonous after a while. It's my birthday, I'm gonna get a present. Where's the fun in that? Where's the surprise? Owh heck! It's her birthday. I have to get her something. Doesn't that sounds 'terpaksa'? <br><br>Buy me a gift because it's not my birthday. Do something unexpected. That is much better. Rather than the same thing every year. Boring much.<br><br><br><br>For my birthday, just steal a kiss from me. Steal!</p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><div id="cse-search-results"></div>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="http://www.google.com/afsonline/show_afs_search.js"></script></div>afirahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11402705656964035160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-280236639516050999.post-22973593336037144922012-03-03T13:42:00.001+08:002012-03-03T13:42:17.921+08:00A little step at a time. <p class='bloggerplus_text_section' align='left'>Well, hello there! How's life? I hope everyone's doing just fine.<br><br><br>Erm, but here's something that is not fine. Nor that it is new. People who wanted to kill themselves, for boyfriends or girlfriends who left them. And in my case, since I don't have many boy friends, it my girl friends who got left by their boy.<br><br>Sad. Definitely dissapointed, when they utter the word, "I want to kill myself". Yes, I know the pain. But not from boyfriend leaving me (I don't have any before you), but from my Mother. I recognize the pain. And I know, it's hard. Up until a point that I just feel numb.<br><br>I would think of the same thing too. Ask yourself now, what will happen when the time comes, and you have to let your love ones go. Yes, I can't live without you. And in my case, definitely can't live without my Mom. But somehow, I'm still here. I tell you it is not easy but it does gets better.<br><br>Here's an advice. Live life for the moment. Be happy for whatever you have now. Be happy for those who loves you no matter what. Family and friends. And don't live or be happy only when you're with him, but do it for yourself. Don't be too dependent. Love yourself more than you love anyone. Be a little bit selfish. Just a tad selfish. Okay.<br><br>And believe in faith. Believe in God. Believe that He got things lining up for you. For better it will be. <br><br><br><br>Yes, it's painful. But if you can't go thru a breakup, how will it be when it is your parents who you have to let go. So don't be so hard on yourself. Take it one step at a time.<br><br><br><font size='1' face='Georgia' >And this is also an advice for myself. Noted.</font></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><div id="cse-search-results"></div>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="http://www.google.com/afsonline/show_afs_search.js"></script></div>afirahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11402705656964035160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-280236639516050999.post-50558583394188540722012-02-16T01:51:00.001+08:002012-02-16T01:51:28.276+08:00New entry <p class='bloggerplus_text_section' align='left'><br>How can I not love him? He's the sweetest guy I have ever met.<br><br><br><br>Is that sentence even valid as a blog post? Hahahaha.. Being so short, yet tells a lot. :)<br><br>Anyhow, have a good night everyone. Kisses to you. All of you.<br><br></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><div id="cse-search-results"></div>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="http://www.google.com/afsonline/show_afs_search.js"></script></div>afirahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11402705656964035160noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-280236639516050999.post-87873851408852123802012-01-01T01:54:00.001+08:002012-01-01T01:54:42.431+08:00It's 2012 <p class='bloggerplus_text_section' align='left'>Selamat tahun baru! <br><br>It's 2012. Wow. Who knew that I would still be alive today. Who knew that I would still be here in this world. <br><br>I never celebrate a new year looking at the past year, but I look at the past years that have made me what I am today. I don't regret things I've done. I may not like what I am now, but I couldn't imagine me being anyone else. For that I'm thankful. <br><br>There will never be a day that I don't miss my mother. Even when the world is upside down, having her here right by my side, would make Sahara felt like ice. But that wouldn't happen. That I know. For what is important now, is that I'm here. And for that I'm thankful.<br><br>This year is our year. This year we will make our dreams came true. This year is for us. For a beginning of our life. So cheers to that. <br><br>This is for us to be closer. This is for us to said what have been kept silent. This is for us to look back, and laugh at all the silly mistake we've made. This is for us to sit in silent and wonder how will tomorrow comes. This year is for us. For us to do what we have plan to.<br><br>For all the things I never did, or I have done, or I never said or I have said, I'm sorry if it hurts you in any way. This is for a clean slate. <br><br>This new year is the beginning of our life. And for that I'm thankful.<br><br>Happy new year everyone!</p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><div id="cse-search-results"></div>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="http://www.google.com/afsonline/show_afs_search.js"></script></div>afirahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11402705656964035160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-280236639516050999.post-43099132122884238182011-12-02T18:42:00.001+08:002011-12-02T18:42:05.016+08:00Daddy dearest. <p class='bloggerplus_text_section' align='left'><br>"Siti, how do you find letting name for any things?"<br><br>"Uh? What?"<br><br>"Letting names. You know, letting names for animal, plants, those."<br><br>"Owh. You mean Latin names. Scientific names, you mean? Right?"<br><br>"Yes! That! How do you find that?"<br><br>"Owh that's easy. Just Google it. Simple."<br><br>"That's it? Really?"<br><br>"Yup. You'll get the most common scientific names of anything. If you want some specific species, that you have to find in specific journals. The most, you'll get the Genus name right."<br><br>"Check for me afterwards. Okay?"<br><br>(-__-")</p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><div id="cse-search-results"></div>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="http://www.google.com/afsonline/show_afs_search.js"></script></div>afirahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11402705656964035160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-280236639516050999.post-12511014048828801512011-11-12T18:44:00.001+08:002011-11-12T18:44:25.401+08:00Bundle of joy <p class='bloggerplus_text_section' align='left'>Well, hello there.<br><br>This is quick. New updates, I mean. Hehehe. :D<br><br>So, I said about me being on twitter way too much that I forgot about this blog. I said that myself. Now, there's people stalking my tweet, in which that twitter account was suppose to be my own private gateway. I can't blame them. It was my fault. I can't take that back.<br><br>Ah, what the heck. I'm not trying to hide anything anyway. Read, read all you want. Those were never intended for you. Only to whom it may concern. *wink wink*<br><br>What's the point of changing my tweethandle, or even privating my account. Secret is out. I'm not bothered lah. I seriously think my tweets are boring. Seriously.<br><br><br>Okay. Back to the tittle. My bundle of joy. Seriously, I am talking about babies. Two in particular. My two year old half brother and sister's super cute baby boy. Wail and Aidan (or Aiden, that's how I like to spell his name, if it was my kid :P) This two cute, very munchable little baby boy.<br><br>Wail, is my half brother. Super genius. He talks non-stop. He knows stuff. If he sees something he never see before, he'll go, "Apa nih, apa nih". How cute is that. Say something, especially his favourite food like Nasi lemak, laksam, and nasi ayam, he'll definately say, "Mmmmm, shedaknye" sambil gosok perut.<br>Wail calls me by my name. Yup, seems a bit rude. But nobody calls me Kakak. Not even very young cousins. Nobody. I just don't like it. <br>I spent most of my weekends with this little guy. Or should I call it exersize. It's hard work to chase a two year old around the house. And he never seems to get tired. If I stay at my Dad's until late night, he's gonna be up until I get home. Even when he was about to sleep and he saw us, terus tak jadi tidur. <br><br>Well, I actually could go on and on. But this is was suppose to be a short one. So enough about Wail. He's gonna get another entry, just for himself. Someday. When I am awfully rajin. Hehehehe.<br><br>Baby Aidan is six months old this month. I went to Edinburgh just to see him when he was born. Such a sweet, very handsome young lad. Gonna be a heartbreaker one day. He's so faraway, the only updates we got is from Facebook. The most recent was the video of him in his baby bouncer. *melting* <br>The closest of hearing him talk and gigle, was thru the phone. He is not gonna recognize his Aunt when he got home one day. My sister said, that wouldn't be any problem, since we almost look alike. We'll see, we'll see.<br><br>I can't wait for you to come home. And by you, I do mean Aiden, not my sister. My sister can stay there for as long as she wants. Bahaha.. Kidding!<br><br>Just seeing this two kids could make anything right. Owh.... I'm missing you guys already. Love you two so very much.<br><br>Oh, by the way Sis, can you please please kiss Aiden for me. Thanks. <3</p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><div id="cse-search-results"></div>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="http://www.google.com/afsonline/show_afs_search.js"></script></div>afirahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11402705656964035160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-280236639516050999.post-46549898405898993632011-10-28T23:18:00.001+08:002011-10-28T23:18:30.359+08:00Updates <p class='bloggerplus_text_section' align='left'><br><br>Or perhaps just for the sake of putting up something new. Someone still reads my blog. Atleast, I hope. <br><br><br>I don't have any internet connection anymore. Except on my Blackberry (in which I took the most minimal package) and my iPad. I can actually write blog entry on my iPad. But I, hate, and I mean hate, those non physical keypad. It just doesn't feel real.<br><br>So, I don't update that much anymore. Okay, I lied. I stop blogging.<br><br>As much as I would like to blame the internet, I should blame myself too. Or shoud I say, twitter?<br><br>Twitter took all the small ideas. These ideas that I always, somehow develop to a form of short essays. It's nothing. It's mostly craps. But at least there's something. There you go. I blame twitter. <br><br>If I feel like shouting at someone, I tweet. If I have something interesting to share, I tweet. There's also tweetpic. Easier to just tweet rather than uploading a picture. <br><br>But, I must say, as I'm writing this, I do miss blogging. I do miss writing nonsense. I do miss watching an entry as finish writing it. Yes, I still miss blogging. I guess I will still be around. Not as much, but not totally forgetting it. This, I promise.<br><br><br>Happy weekend, everyone.<br><br><br><br>Especially to that special person I miss the most. <3</p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><div id="cse-search-results"></div>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="http://www.google.com/afsonline/show_afs_search.js"></script></div>afirahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11402705656964035160noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-280236639516050999.post-14644568574385412912011-08-01T23:46:00.004+08:002011-08-02T00:02:40.019+08:00Ramadhan5th Ramadhan without my Mom.<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I woke quite early to day morning. Or so I say. </div><div>Prepared some chicken and veges to be cooked for sahur the night before. And ambitiously though, that nasi sempat untuk dimasak di pagi itu juga. I was wrong. </div><div><br /></div><div>Lauk siap dimasak, tapi nasi tidak. Sudah lah bangun 5 pagi, pastuh bulih snooze alarm pulak. So I end up eating enough food but not enough water. Agaknya dah dahaga sangat, I accidently drank some water after suboh. Wuhuhu.. </div><div><br /></div><div>Esok, akan makan lauk ayam percik lebihan berbuka tadi. So no cooking from scratch, just reheating. Nak bangun lewat sikit pon xpe. :)</div><div><br /></div><div>Owh ayam percik tadi pon punya cerita. Rancangan asalnya mahu buat ayam percik bakar. tapi disebabkan balik terlalu lewat, cuma buat ayam goreng berkuah percik. Woh. Jadilah. </div><div><br /></div><div>And yeh. If I could I would just cook. Makanan Bazar Ramadhan selalunya xsedap. Sekian.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Selamat berpuasa!</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><div id="cse-search-results"></div>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="http://www.google.com/afsonline/show_afs_search.js"></script></div>afirahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11402705656964035160noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-280236639516050999.post-15661767693220878512011-07-26T23:45:00.007+08:002011-07-27T00:42:10.710+08:00Updates??Yes. I went missing. Stranded in Mars with no internet connection. Right.<div><br /></div><div>Sorry. Partly intended. Ngeh ngeh. Malas.</div><div><br /></div><div>I got no idea what to write. I know I said something about Edin, Aidan and my sister's labour experience. Semua tuh dah basi kan. Lama sangat dah. So updating this blog with something I just did. Hoyeh, balik kampung.</div><div><br /></div><div>With still no mood to write, no idea what to write, I'll just post some pictures. Here goes..</div><div><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd2UcyOOC6KlLuV-JchQ1DdSffzRHravL6-WX8Nb5Eoagj16yUrUuG5jfSHw5L7lE4YQrDhnHSH9tVsa9GZ9mnrfU50zoqWHSAXHE6u8Apln8TtWEoe3q2yKIA-6r9W72TYPwO_WeAYMo/s1600/P1010215.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd2UcyOOC6KlLuV-JchQ1DdSffzRHravL6-WX8Nb5Eoagj16yUrUuG5jfSHw5L7lE4YQrDhnHSH9tVsa9GZ9mnrfU50zoqWHSAXHE6u8Apln8TtWEoe3q2yKIA-6r9W72TYPwO_WeAYMo/s320/P1010215.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633697938458081682" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">My house (okay, it's my Dad's) is not next to the beach.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Not like Che Wer's chalet. (Btw, I'm not coming here anymore. Ever!!)</div><div style="text-align: center;">You have to walk a bit.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJJCVBrVhDZ2Wakn0syRGFAT_Lkq_kqt1AWH9-bWY6qxQ1mWDlJCJX1FBotCMdImj1IAxwW5Cw5f-NSBNQ-W9Ac4WMFIcs2V6sdKQp9YIJu2ZSdLO6v3ttVvHCfeLixLjkYXJLaqV_RS0/s1600/P1010216.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJJCVBrVhDZ2Wakn0syRGFAT_Lkq_kqt1AWH9-bWY6qxQ1mWDlJCJX1FBotCMdImj1IAxwW5Cw5f-NSBNQ-W9Ac4WMFIcs2V6sdKQp9YIJu2ZSdLO6v3ttVvHCfeLixLjkYXJLaqV_RS0/s320/P1010216.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633701101302182818" /></a><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Then, you see this. A wooden bridge. A river.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Where's the beach?</div><div style="text-align: center;">You have to cross the river first to get to the beach.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Our kampung is weird like that. ;P</div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2ZGv74a-SLk4Tn-KQfNiP1uIzOcOuHgVsL1LPteYjpLo6D4HGOv6bS9hIWEkVWzk5oT9yAqNzFj27kGtGBL0eN3H0C4ToKMK0Wl5RO3ue-D2hlkju7LDQlIrzdryp3VwkjRLt82kbwxE/s1600/P1010217.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2ZGv74a-SLk4Tn-KQfNiP1uIzOcOuHgVsL1LPteYjpLo6D4HGOv6bS9hIWEkVWzk5oT9yAqNzFj27kGtGBL0eN3H0C4ToKMK0Wl5RO3ue-D2hlkju7LDQlIrzdryp3VwkjRLt82kbwxE/s320/P1010217.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633697930907729810" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Eh. Orang kampung. Bukan, itu budak kecik bulat.</div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1Jxealqe12Q2R85bIgYOXoWQ0NJK0YDkfuArh0SMotiwazSrsMiMfJ63x8slCrY0y_W-0jXgwOtLO2m61i9oI-QE-HXDBKSbgFbGghxk7H4ePdPkWCP_NfhIv_40JMzh5AReVjqCttWY/s1600/P1010219.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1Jxealqe12Q2R85bIgYOXoWQ0NJK0YDkfuArh0SMotiwazSrsMiMfJ63x8slCrY0y_W-0jXgwOtLO2m61i9oI-QE-HXDBKSbgFbGghxk7H4ePdPkWCP_NfhIv_40JMzh5AReVjqCttWY/s320/P1010219.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633696167013404962" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Korang, ingat nih? Kita makan nasi masuk pasir kat sini.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Hehehe :0</div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjhzsdrfYWZ-YY-Ac3dFNBRbVXmG0a2DDCPEcM0btkV9AIqzZKuyKvoJf03MqtQXwTr2YecdYzzOIOpB-DdvBE5TwIewfdKmSfXv2qKDI69mPTbe1YPcr6kg7ODH7XiuOpQFl_1S8c21c/s1600/P1010220.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjhzsdrfYWZ-YY-Ac3dFNBRbVXmG0a2DDCPEcM0btkV9AIqzZKuyKvoJf03MqtQXwTr2YecdYzzOIOpB-DdvBE5TwIewfdKmSfXv2qKDI69mPTbe1YPcr6kg7ODH7XiuOpQFl_1S8c21c/s320/P1010220.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5633696160053679330" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">And this! Who could resist this.</div></div><div style="text-align: center;">Yeh yeh. Skinny deeping. Remember?</div><div style="text-align: center;">Hahaha...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Okay. That's about it. Hey, atleast an update. Hihi..</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><div id="cse-search-results"></div>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="http://www.google.com/afsonline/show_afs_search.js"></script></div>afirahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11402705656964035160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-280236639516050999.post-32706068649222695442011-06-08T11:28:00.001+08:002011-06-08T11:28:30.468+08:00Testing <p><p class='bloggerplus_text_section' align='left'>This is from blogger plus. An apps said to help me blog from ipad. Woho.</p></p><div class="blogger-post-footer"><div id="cse-search-results"></div>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="http://www.google.com/afsonline/show_afs_search.js"></script></div>afirahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11402705656964035160noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-280236639516050999.post-70054912077642628972011-06-08T11:17:00.001+08:002011-06-08T11:17:44.906+08:00Post Created 2011-06-08 03:19:53 +0000<html><title></title><body><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:(null);"> Hoh.testing. Blogging from ipad. But not as good as the usual laptop and physical keyboard. How do I put title on this?
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<script type="text/javascript" src="http://www.google.com/afsonline/show_afs_search.js"></script></div>afirahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11402705656964035160noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-280236639516050999.post-85049360874598856752011-05-17T01:29:00.003+08:002011-05-17T01:47:13.394+08:00Live from Edinburgh<div>I am in Edinburgh, United Kingdom.</div><br /><br /><div>I know. No post since when? last month? No, I haven't stop blogging. Just a bit occupied.<br /><br /></div><br /><div>Why am I in Edinburgh? </div><br /><br /><br /><div>This.</div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgpC1xNHQzITvT9rKfxTA9tBg8ptJ69RtfnlEl2VqyIcDcP1wcQUmfhni6Du7ndV08fp7OymkH7WwK7GEHK5NH3JasV0fkpcYXzqMAkX8ChJCmGm23PH9Hx1aE7HweDom-Gltsb_NXSpE/s1600/225533_171917356200541_100001468329617_416343_8064633_n.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 238px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607368358859997794" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgpC1xNHQzITvT9rKfxTA9tBg8ptJ69RtfnlEl2VqyIcDcP1wcQUmfhni6Du7ndV08fp7OymkH7WwK7GEHK5NH3JasV0fkpcYXzqMAkX8ChJCmGm23PH9Hx1aE7HweDom-Gltsb_NXSpE/s320/225533_171917356200541_100001468329617_416343_8064633_n.jpg" /></a><br />Introducing Aidan Mikhail. Born on the 5th May. Super cute. 2.7 kg.<br /><br /><br />He was born on the 5th. The day I was suppose to arrive from Malaysia. Then my sister got admitted for the next 5 day. Baby Aidan was having a bit difficulty on breast feeding and he looses a bit of weight too. Huhu..<br /><br />So I spent most of my time in the kitchen and on the bus. Why? Coz I have to cook for her husband and for her. Lunch and dinner. Then an hour ride to the hospital and an hour back. Fuuhhh......<br /><br />I can't write much now but I will in a couple of days when I'm back in my home sweet home. I'm writing about Aidan, Edinburgh and why I can't wait to go home. Yes, to that blazzing super hot country. Hehehe...<br /><br /><br />Till then.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><div id="cse-search-results"></div>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="http://www.google.com/afsonline/show_afs_search.js"></script></div>afirahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11402705656964035160noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-280236639516050999.post-13401310374068807222011-04-20T15:26:00.004+08:002011-04-20T16:22:17.890+08:00Hot sun and iced cold coffeeI'm in Starbucks having an iced double latte, trying to run away from the hot hot blazing sun. It's cold in here, free internet and good coffee. And good environment to do work too!<div><br /></div><div>I was just so sleepy. Yes, in the middle of the day. Sleepy! I don't know what's wrong with me, but I've been having trouble sleeping at night and I have trouble to stay awake and energize during the day. Maybe I should exercise a lot more right? Okay going for a run this weekend lah. I always assume lack of energy is from me doing no exercise at all. Am I right? I don't know, but don't you feel sick if you don't move so much?</div><div><br /></div><div>And that's is also another reason why I'm in Starbucks. Apart from the hot sun, I am trying to feed my body some caffeine in other to keep awake and moving. That answer the double shot. Well, not really, it is just how I drink my coffee. Double shot is the best! Rich, strong coffee taste, just the way I like it. That's how I drink my tea too. Rich black tea, sometime with or without sugar depending on my mood.</div><div><br /></div><div>Okay, this is weird. I wasn't planning to write about coffee and tea. How the hell did I end up here? What was my main topic? To be honest I have none. I just feel like writing. So what the hell, coffee it is.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm going to tell you a story about me and coffee and tea. </div><div><br /></div><div>I love camping. I love outdoors, and the nature, and the sky and sun, the birds and the animal, and the beetles and everything in between. All in all, I love to get dirt on my face once in a while. I used to go on lots of camping trip when I was in school. Some were memorable and some were just unthinkable. I mostly enjoy the camping trip because I got the chance to cook. Owh you know how much I love cooking,right?. And to see those people licking the pots and pans (literally licking pots and pans, I assume they were too hungry) and plate, would just make me giggle. But.....</div><div><br /></div><div>Yes, there's always a but. This time a big but. Haha..</div><div><br /></div><div>Even though friends were licking plates, there's one thing that I don't do well. The whole camp were complaining. Remember how I like my drinks? Rich and strong. </div><div><br /></div><div>So that happened.</div><div><br /></div><div>I was suppose to make tea and coffee. Oyeh, for the whole camp. And of course I made it just how I like it. Rich and strong. Guess what happened? Owh I shouldn't elaborate more. It was embarrassing. So much praise for the good food I cooked, and yet loads of complain for simple coffee and tea brew. Huhuhu.... </div><div><br /></div><div>I am still remembered by that incident. Ahah, kopi pahit! Teh pekat! What's up! Hahahaha.....</div><div><br /></div><div>Those were memories. Still made me smile each time I sip my tea or coffee. Hah!</div><div><br /></div><div>('^_^)</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><div id="cse-search-results"></div>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="http://www.google.com/afsonline/show_afs_search.js"></script></div>afirahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11402705656964035160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-280236639516050999.post-83310678482507619332011-04-13T22:47:00.004+08:002011-04-13T23:21:03.990+08:00For the love of Paris<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>I've been to Paris. In year 2009. My only wish, is to go there again.<div><br /><div>But look at what I found.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>A big map of Paris. </div><div><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTqyq5Ai95d96gJfC33sGXZjreiVzyG81GQrhVaIOuij2UNoAxJ2PzwwsrE4zM_rmSMNvU34HaqTb8pqt54-CBrA9SwcPISJXhYKqoLJX-ogS30_fObUN3pFAGtWk4s6CjDdJOwjwyuNU/s320/P1000763.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595087002437306706" /></div></div><div>I didn't bought this in Paris (I could only afford a few postcard). But I bought this in OU for only rm1.20. Hahahakkks.... Super cheap. It's a wrapper. Not an actual map, but a wrapper. Nice. The frame itself cost more than the map (Obvious! What frame that can only cost less than rm1.20, right?)</div><div><br /></div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwLg78zyLWVj3ZbcDloYWrOsVBPbHrL9is7IrZMIKfOD183-EAAEJCOMxEMp15IcSY45kIDLkYjnODm03xW-dYudOKqojpByBb35c-imz9oeSdL1EVh6TByNYVJOAZVhw7pKKDE20kKXc/s320/P1000761.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595087014842882018" /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>I thought the map is really beautiful. So for the love of Paris I bought it and framed it and hang it in my house. Complete the whole house eh?</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><div id="cse-search-results"></div>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="http://www.google.com/afsonline/show_afs_search.js"></script></div>afirahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11402705656964035160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-280236639516050999.post-70475940672991911662011-04-09T22:27:00.003+08:002011-04-09T22:46:26.450+08:00Belut?We were driving at night. I wanted to stop for freshing up and do some stretching. So we stop at a small 'gerai' in a corner.<div><br /></div><div>It was dark. I can't really see what 'gerai' was it. But, what the hell, I only wanted a drink. But my lil sister gatal, pergi order sup pulak.</div><div><br /></div><div>Pakcik kedai tanya, "Nak sup ape?". "Saya nak sup campur Pakcik" adik jawab.</div><div>Pakcik buat muke kerut. Aku pon naik pelek jugak. Pakcik tanya " Sup campur? Sup ape? Sup campur ke sup sayur ke sup campur apa?"</div><div><br /></div><div>Aku pulak kerut muka. Sup campur lah. Sup? apa yang pelek sangat. Dah sebab pakcik tuh pelik tengok aku ngan Adik, aku pon jawab lah, " Sup sayur, Pakcik." Padahal xmau pon sup sayur, tapi mahu sup campur, yang pada aku maksudnya sup yang ade ayam, daging, seafood etc. Arrggghhh, bantailah. Ape - apelah. Janji sedap.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Esoknya, kami lalu tempat yang sama. Pada siang hari. Eh, ini lah kedai yang kita berhenti minum semalam. Aku paling ke kanan, then I burst in to laughter. Why?</div><div><br /></div><div>Kedai yang kurang dikenal pasti ape rupa2nya kedai sup belut!! Omaigod.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Padanlah pakcik tuh buat muka kerut bila aku start turun dari kereta lagi. Hahahaha... Nasib baik x makan sup campur 'biasa', sup belut la itu! Wawawahh...scary....</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>(^_^')</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><div id="cse-search-results"></div>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="http://www.google.com/afsonline/show_afs_search.js"></script></div>afirahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11402705656964035160noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-280236639516050999.post-65060192335883408522011-04-05T23:58:00.003+08:002011-04-06T00:18:52.412+08:00Feeling yellow<div><br /></div><div><br /></div>I'm a tad yellow tonight.<br />So here's my favourite song to hear when I'm yellow.<div><br /></div><br /><br /><iframe title="YouTube video player" width="640" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/1MwjX4dG72s" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe><br /><br /><br />Beautiful isn't it?<br />Now I'm over the moon!<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >kisses to you. <3</span></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><div id="cse-search-results"></div>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="http://www.google.com/afsonline/show_afs_search.js"></script></div>afirahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11402705656964035160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-280236639516050999.post-53729545378862231812011-04-04T01:58:00.003+08:002011-04-04T02:57:18.796+08:00Baby newsHallo everyone. Wahh, I never left this blog unattended for thiiisssss long. I am very sorry. Especially to ALL my readers. (Keep in mind, that in MY head, I have thousands of follower. Yeah, I'm MAD! :B)<div><br /></div><div>Not that I've been busy. Cuma x berkesempatan menulis.</div><div><br /></div><div>So what is up? </div><div><br /></div><div>My sister is having her baby next month. Excited!! You know that sister, that just got married last July, and nine month later she's having a baby. You know, the one I said is trying to outdo my parents. My parents gave birth to her on November and they were married in January the same year. I thought my parents were fast. Well, now she is faster. I have to be pregnant on the day of my Akad to outdo her. Hahahaha... ;p Kidding man!</div><div><br /></div><div>I just come back from a short trip to the West Coast of Penisular Malaysia. (It's crazy to drive Kl-Tganu-Klate-Tganu-Kl with little rest in between. Crazy shit!) Doing bits of research. Collecting information. Comparing and coming up with own conclusion just based on data collected. Sound scientific? What data? Hahaha.. I'm just collecting infos on how should my Sis take care of herself after giving birth. In other words, 'berpantang'. This is the downside of my Mom moving on to early. If she is still around, I'm pretty sure that she is next to my Sis the moment she heard of the pregnancy.</div><div><br /></div><div>Anyways, this is what I did. Since she is away in the UK, I'm suppose to buy her stuff and take tips (on everything) on how to 'berpantang' and how to take care of a baby. I can now write a How to book for dummies. They do have classes in the UK, but what I'm listing down are traditional stuff that we Malay people do. Like eat this and that, don't eat this, don't do that and blah blah blah. I know I'm old, but that doesn't that I know stuff like this. I don't. Knowledge level about this would be a negative two.</div><div><br /></div><div>To tell you the truth, I am scared of babies. Newborn babies. Don't get me wrong. I love kids. Love them. Especially when the start talking, walking and just doing things. When people find kids at certain age annoying, I found them to be charming and adorable. Kids do and say the darndest things, which is to me very adorable. They asked question that are sometimes mindblowing and I love answering to this kind of questions. But newborns are just scary.</div><div><br /></div><div>They look so fragile. As if they are going to break at any times. They are SO small, very tiny. The skin are all crippled (like raisin sometimes). If I went visiting a friend's or anybody's newborn baby, the least I would do is pat his cheek and and say, owhhh...cute baby. That's it. I am not going to even try lifting him up. To scared that I might kill someone's baby. </div><div><br /></div><div>Anyways, with all the stories told by Auntsssssss ( I have a lot of very helpful Aunties) I would conclude that some traditional Malay method of 'berpantang' sounds ridiculous. Ever heard of 'You have to make sure your big toe doesn't meet each other'? You have to spread your leg all the time, never to bend them, ever! You only can eat only a certain kind of fish, when you can't even find that fish in the UK???? and a whole lot more. They are lots of things that are good and should be followed, like not to eat a lot, only one serving at a time. Or only eat grilled food, which does follows to eating healthy. Owh not only this, I was also told on how to push the baby out and tips on that too. Hahahaha.... Too explicit to write it here. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I am going to be an Aunt. To a niece or nephew? It's a surprise. The baby is just too shy. Just wait for the good news. Wuuhuuu..</div><div><br /></div><div>Okay peeps. I'm off to bed.</div><div><br /></div><div>You!Please update your blog. I miss you. </div><div>And why have all you blog's content gone?</div><div><br /></div><div>Nite nite everyone. Kisses to you!</div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><div id="cse-search-results"></div>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="http://www.google.com/afsonline/show_afs_search.js"></script></div>afirahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11402705656964035160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-280236639516050999.post-18861947432181228452011-03-16T22:40:00.002+08:002011-03-16T23:57:10.882+08:00A catastrophe and an orange cat fell from the fourth floor.By far the longest title ever. Hahahaha...<div><br /></div><div>It is now well known about what happened to Japan. If you don't know, then you are worst than 'Katak bawah tempurung', even those kataks knows about what happening in Japan. It's been bad, bad, very bad situation in Japan. Earthquake, then tsunami and now fear of radiation leaking.</div><div><br /></div><div>My father got some phone calls from newspaper to comment on the nuclear plant situation. And as expected he wouldn't comment anything. I suspect that he wanted to be off the radar,doesn't want to be known. (My dad is a very shy man, always off the radar, so am I!! :P) But he said the university didn't gave any permission for him to say anything. Ok fine. But he wouldn't stop talking and commenting when he's home. Seriously, non-stop. Owh, for those who doesn't know, he is a nuclear scientist. </div><div><br /></div><div>The situation in Japan nuclear plant is not that serious, unless.... it blows up. Then there will be another Chernobyl. So far, everything is okay. The might be some leakage of radiation but it is not fatal. But for long term, who knows? Just pray everything will be under control soon. They might be some meltdown, but as long it doesn't blow up, radiation leaking should be at the minimum. </div><div><br /></div><div>I don't know on how much public knows about a nuclear plant, on how it works and what could be dangerous to people. The closest I've been to nuclear plant is in MINT (MNA), but that couldn't even be considered to a nuclear plant. There's a reactor, a small one, very small actually, that only produced power enough to light a light bulb. And seen a few of Cobalt 60 radiation machine. This are only use to do small experiment. And MNA also provide irradiation in small scale.</div><div><br /></div><div>The most minimal things you should know about a reactor is, in the most middle of the reactor is where the nuclear fuel is. It is then wrap in thick steel. Nuclear fission starts by a neutron splitting the nuclear atom. This splitting produce heat and a neutron too. So this start a nuclear chain reaction. </div><div>To control the splitting enriched boron is usually use. Boron absorb the neutron thus stops the atom splitting. Coolant system is use to transfer the heat produce to water (in Japan reactor, they use boiling water system to generate steam and spin the turbine). Problem occurred when the cooling system's broken down. Heat can produce pressure that will eventually built up in the plant and if not attend to effectively, a Chernobyl will happen. (God, please no!) That's why they are letting some steam out to put the pressure down. Of course the steam contains radiation, but it's a by product radiation. It is not as dangerous as the nuclear fuel it self.</div><div><br /></div><div>Right know, situation is still under control (I hope) As long the core is okay, it wouldn't be a Chernobyl. But still it is scary, right? Wani, stay safe okay. A friend of mine, who lives in Kyoto seems chill. He even went for jog on Saturday. Hahaha.. but it looks like he is planning to come back to Malaysia. Doesn't matter, as long as everyone is safe. We keep on praying, okay.</div><div><br /></div><div>Then, about that orange cat. That silly orange cat. Can you believe it if I said he fell from the fourth floor? Well, believe it! </div><div><br /></div><div>Bubis loves to sleep at the window. I never let him, but I don't why that night I let him sleep there. Usually I open the window just slightly so he could sleep with out falling down, but that night i didn't close the window enough. </div><div><br /></div><div>It was 4 am in the morning. The window was just on top of my head. I was asleep, suddenly heard scratching sound and a thud. I woke up and thought I was dreaming. 'Did my cat just fall of from the fourth floor??'. I panicked and start searching inside the house. Then I force myself to say that my cat did fell that's why you couldn't find him. I went outside, put my head out, expecting flesh, blood, eyeball and stomach scattered on ground. But the was nothing. I was starring the ground for a whole 15 minutes in disbelief. </div><div><br /></div><div>Where the hell is Bubis?? </div><div><br /></div><div>Then I saw something moving in the drain. I went down, saw my cat in the drain, scared as hell. He peed himself out. I pick him, very gently, scared that I might break him and carry him back to the house. Wash him a little bit and put him in his cage. As soon as the vet opens, I brought him for a check up. Thank God she said Bubis is okay. As long as a cat landed in perfect balance, he will be okay. The only thing worrying me is, Bubs did fell from the fourth floor, so the pelvic could fracture a bit. But it seems, he is doing okay. Alhamdulillah. Lega.</div><div><br /></div><div>No more sleeping at the window honey. You scared me to death. Hohh!!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I'm finish. </div><div><br /></div><div>Didn't expect this entry to be long. Well, the title should tally with the content right? </div><div><br /></div><div>Kisses to you.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><div id="cse-search-results"></div>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="http://www.google.com/afsonline/show_afs_search.js"></script></div>afirahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11402705656964035160noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-280236639516050999.post-3960404278615154492011-03-10T22:08:00.004+08:002011-03-10T22:27:16.310+08:00Kucing aku bercakapKalau lah kucing aku buleh bercakap, ini dialog yang akan dibicara setiap kali.<div><br /></div><div>Kucing yang kaler oren tuh, Bubis namanya.</div><div><br /></div><div>"Siti, lapar. Lapar. Lapar. Lapar."</div><div>"Okay, kenyang dah. Eh, terasa lapar lagi lah. Siti, nak makan"</div><div>"Siti, hari nih nk makan ikan. Ikan. Lapar. Ikan. Lapar"</div><div>"Buurrp. Kenyang dah. Ngantuk, tidur dulu yer. Sila jangan ganggu!"</div><div>"Nape dok kat dapur? Nak masakkan Bubs ikan eh??"</div><div>"Makanan!!! Eh, eh....nak pergi mana tuh? Tempat makan kat sini lah"</div><div><br /></div><div>Bubis ini yang dia tahu cuma satu. Makan.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Kucing kaler hitam, buat masa nih namanya Cleo. Kadang-kadang jadi Hits (short for Hitam)</div><div><br /></div><div>"Eh, tengah buat apa tuh? Tepi sikit nak join sekali"</div><div>"Saya nak duduk sini jugak"</div><div>"Lompat-lompat atas laptop. Yeehaaa"</div><div>"Siti, bosan nih. Meh la gosokkan kepala"</div><div>"Ahahaha... Tak nak berak kat sini. Nak berak kat dalam rumah. Weeeeeeee"</div><div>"Lompat lompat lompat sampai gile"</div><div>"Nak duduk jugak atas kerusi. I pon nak tengok TV. Tepi sikit"</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Inilah dialog harian kucing aku. Macam-macam.</div><div><br /></div><div>Korang ada kucing bolih bercakap macam nih?? Wahahaha...</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><div id="cse-search-results"></div>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="http://www.google.com/afsonline/show_afs_search.js"></script></div>afirahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11402705656964035160noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-280236639516050999.post-60913717687007840472011-03-06T21:07:00.003+08:002011-03-06T22:37:39.934+08:00Engage at 27......or 17??No peeps, sadly it's not me who's getting engage. Hahaha...<div><br /></div><div>But my younger sister's friend is! Yes! At 17!! Good God.</div><div><br /></div><div>I don't know what exactly is on her mind but it is on, 23rd this month. I know almost all my sister's friend since I'm not only a sister but aka the driver. I drive her to school so I know who is who. This girl to me is not pretty but she's cheeky. She change BF every 3 month or so. What make her change her mind and settle down with one guy, I don't know. </div><div><br /></div><div>And I couldn't stop thinking how her parents feel too. Why would they agree to this? My sister said it's ridiculous. Imagine being 17 and making up your mind on getting engage when you should be having fun being young and silly. Even more ridiculous, this engagement was suppose to be for a seven year period. Crap! </div><div><br /></div><div>I don't get it. I remember being 17, and all I could think was going crazy, see people, travel around and go nuts! Of course there's boys (and girls too), but engage?? So out of the question. </div><div><br /></div><div>But then, things like didn't always turn out bad. My neighbor, if you remember, gave birth when she's 17/18. She's the same age as me and it seem, she's happy. She's living life. Giving birth at very early age surely didn't stop her. She is now working as a lecturer and even doing master in fashion. Did she miss her teenage life? Of course she did. But what she get in return, a boy, to her was more than anything in this world. But keep in mind not everyone can survive early commitment like her. Right?</div><div><br /></div><div>But, you also didn't want to end up like me. 27 and still single. Owh I should've marry my high school boyfriend. Gila!! </div><div><br /></div><div>So what should you do? Grab any guy you meet, or wait for the right moment? Or wait until you end up old? Even when you ask pathetic-27 year old-still single girl like me, SHE BARKING MAD!! Imagine my 17 year old sister who still ask me to cook maggi for her wants to get engage, I will immediately send her to psychiatrist. Wouldn't you?</div><div><br /></div><div>I hope she comes to her senses. Even so she gets engaged, I hope it'll last. If not, I hope she takes this as a lesson. Some people wouldn't get it until problems comes knocking to one's door. </div><div><br /></div><div>Okay. I miss you guys. </div><div>Kisses and hugs to everyone.</div><div><br /></div><div>Later peeps.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><div id="cse-search-results"></div>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="http://www.google.com/afsonline/show_afs_search.js"></script></div>afirahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11402705656964035160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-280236639516050999.post-43344381789306764762011-03-03T22:07:00.003+08:002011-03-03T23:12:56.555+08:00Embrace yourself or not?In response to Wani's latest posting.<div><br /></div><div>I don't know about everyone else, but I think I don't judge people. In fact I'm bad at judging people. To me everyone is nice and I trust anybody immediately. One of my weaknesses. I know I know, I'm too naive sometimes. But then we talk about choices we made in life. About being who we really wanted to be. And sometimes this choices make you go against the normal traditional human values. </div><div><br /></div><div>One of the most famous, when changing sexes or maybe being homosexual. Loads of opinion have been pointed out and discuss. I am being a little late and actually missed the train, but who cares. Here's what I have to say.</div><div><br /></div><div>I don't care.</div><div><br /></div><div>Yes we are governed by rules made by our own community, or by the religion we belief or even by our own conscience. Yes rules can be different and influence by community, religion and ones consciences. Even so, there are a few human behavior that are made to be as it is. Like Maths rules, when 1+1 is always 2. And male should mate only with a female. And male should behave like a male and vice versa. Or we should eat and drinks in other to survive or sorts. Things that are every human. Period.</div><div><br /></div><div>So that's it. I know you might say, as a responsible human you should at least gave advise to this people to repent and blah blah blah. But why should I? It's common knowledge. So it's up to your choices. You do what you think is best. People change only when they wanted to change. So why bother? I'm okay with gays, as long the don't do horrific stuff publicly. But I can't stand pengkid. Ever heard of pengkid going to Jumaat prayer? Too much. Just too much!!</div><div><br /></div><div>I don't care what they do in their private time. Sin? Who am I to judge? These people believe in them self to be right, to follow what they say their heart say, so be it. Right or wrong, sin or not, let their God judge. I have my own belief and I'm sticking to that.</div><div><br /></div><div>But what if my own children happens to be one of these people. Still I accept? Or what? Honestly I don't know. I hope if it happens when I'm dead. I can't bare knowing my own child doing that. Anyway, to conclude, look deep deep inside you. Look really deep. Find meaning to being born human. Learn philosophy. hehehe... (I know my conclusion is crap. But seriously philosophy is good) Didn't you all realise, gays make good friend?? :P</div><div><br /></div><div>Later. </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><div id="cse-search-results"></div>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="http://www.google.com/afsonline/show_afs_search.js"></script></div>afirahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11402705656964035160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-280236639516050999.post-7054519815516015212011-03-03T00:25:00.003+08:002011-03-03T00:40:26.638+08:00It's MarchI put down only 8 posting on February!! Suprising. <div><br /></div><div>Really. Seriously didn't notice it. I'm becoming lazier right? </div><div>I should write more. Owh please somebody push me.</div><div>I wish I could promise you one posting at the end of the week. But I can't. </div><div><br /></div><div>So see you later when I actually compose something in my head.</div><div><br /></div><div>Bye peeps.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><div id="cse-search-results"></div>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="http://www.google.com/afsonline/show_afs_search.js"></script></div>afirahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11402705656964035160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-280236639516050999.post-6212127581419617822011-02-24T00:57:00.001+08:002011-02-24T00:57:00.871+08:00Questions answeredRemember last time when I asked about why guys likes to stay in Girl's house. Well, question answered. After asking and interviewing a few male human, here's what they have to say.<div><br /></div><div>First, girl's house are cleaner. Waaayyy cleaner than all guys houses. Well, I couldn't agree more. Our house does look like a proper house with everything in it's own places. A guy's house? There's shirts, beds, stuffs and God knows what all over the place. Okay, not all guy's house are horibble, there are few rare species who loves neat and clean house, and usually they live alone or with 2 person, so it's easier to manage the house. But generally, it's not.</div><div><br /></div><div>Second reason, they don't have to do laundry or sometimes their bed. Well, it does sound reasonable. Rather than waste a tonne of water washing a few of our clothes, we might as well just dumped in a few of the guys clothes in the washing machine right? But I do not agree with this. I told them, this girl who have been doing all this, especially making the bed, is either deeply in love with him or something wrong with her head! Who the heck made their housemate bed?? Crazy shit right?</div><div><br /></div><div>Third, when they got home, there's always hot-delicious smelling-home cooked meal. I wouldn't mind this. What is so hard about putting an extra piece of meat/chicken/fish/whatever into a dish for him, right? Besides, having a guy in the house, wouldn't be such a bad idea especially if they eat a lot. I love to cook, but sometimes don't feel like eating. But went you have a mouth that wants to eat, it is awesome!</div><div><br /></div><div>But if I really have a guy housemate, there's no free ride baby. There's a day every weekend for all of us cleaning the house. It is mandotary. No show? Get out of the house. Atleast mop the whole house, or throw the garbage. About doing laundry, as long it's not underwear, I don't mind so much. About doing beds, good God! You're my housemate not my husband.</div><div><br /></div><div>Then again, morally speaking, it is not good to live with guys. Yes, you can say it's just business and nothing personal. But what happened when you come to one of the moment when you get slightly crazy? Crazy eh? So rather putting yourself in trouble, might as well stay away from it.</div><div><br /></div><div>And guys out there. Stop calling asking for room even clearly stated strictly only for female tenant. Hoping each time you'll get in. Stop and find yourself a good girl and get married. :P</div><div><br /></div><div>Okay peeps. Later.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><div id="cse-search-results"></div>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="http://www.google.com/afsonline/show_afs_search.js"></script></div>afirahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11402705656964035160noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-280236639516050999.post-74258073846913358952011-02-21T23:12:00.007+08:002011-02-22T00:01:02.950+08:004-horribly-tiered Red velvet cake and an IpadWah! I couldn't believe this but I baked a cake. Not just a cake but but 4-tier red velvet cake.<br /><div><br /></div><div>I don't know why but red velvet cake seems really famous these day. I don't know why either that I was possessed to even try making this cake. I found the recipe on the internet. Took the easiest method and this happened.</div><div><br /></div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwZXnUx61aPRLFYzZPeuJeA3KbRWsfYR8v2ESikC90hd6wNApMmFSG4N2tjRVHbSizKYQWfCSypgoXvPBSz6uFLVOL4c4gA5-jb7JWxKE6MoJSl-hBwcViB69e8NYrwkfBiygXOAUcmJ0/s320/P1000464.JPG" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576167885818578322" /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I'm a amazed with myself. It's not burned, it turn out exactly as it suppose to be. Well, atleast in terms of the taste. Hahaha... Not the looks. I couldn't get a perfectly round cake mold, so I end up baking in a aliminium tray that is smaller at the bottom and bigger at the upperpart. So that zig zag effect on the side. Hahaha... </div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwcKnunP3EzeO1dirDXKxnm5O838Oi88vtU_Jc0qHeMo9TRN_AJ5vqO5BsfqB3a-74Y97QKBiVNkzurpb2NYFrrTDhxYBmwQq4KDzEFeBEdYc2hncANnKkP9h4L3aVFwU-NagSQyOYNLI/s1600/P1000463.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwcKnunP3EzeO1dirDXKxnm5O838Oi88vtU_Jc0qHeMo9TRN_AJ5vqO5BsfqB3a-74Y97QKBiVNkzurpb2NYFrrTDhxYBmwQq4KDzEFeBEdYc2hncANnKkP9h4L3aVFwU-NagSQyOYNLI/s320/P1000463.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576167892145945874" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjizVcMq4xt5Y6jUTWgQCT9dkoWDa1HP7rsBwMsD0vz8TaNios2cKmtA1TZs_R2s3tkptPOQSsCCNvOGDPT5PT4zmqQWz68TP3_4C2YF-WAEl6Iv4YuCHW0bnu6X9ueXGpXM5QVhAwE2Dw/s1600/P1000466.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjizVcMq4xt5Y6jUTWgQCT9dkoWDa1HP7rsBwMsD0vz8TaNios2cKmtA1TZs_R2s3tkptPOQSsCCNvOGDPT5PT4zmqQWz68TP3_4C2YF-WAEl6Iv4YuCHW0bnu6X9ueXGpXM5QVhAwE2Dw/s320/P1000466.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576167901671671778" /></a><br /></div><div>It is filll with cream cheese filling and also the top part.For decoration I just dusted it with some cocoa powder.</div><div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo2oOVuW-M9yuCvFUieKoawJ-xQWOCfmasaFUOoGk79AYWXriZAwtURoYjaHwDu4LUXqqWdhD7M5n9HKN4i5CXqhJmhZJpQSyYyMvwB7mYZ87dn68177EboOaLdPxW4UjnhBZ1GJk0R0g/s1600/P1000472.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo2oOVuW-M9yuCvFUieKoawJ-xQWOCfmasaFUOoGk79AYWXriZAwtURoYjaHwDu4LUXqqWdhD7M5n9HKN4i5CXqhJmhZJpQSyYyMvwB7mYZ87dn68177EboOaLdPxW4UjnhBZ1GJk0R0g/s320/P1000472.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576167911150480562" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>And this. New Ipad. Yeehaa. </div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmi8xbvGtyfVyaRTi3eKrATnuzVrHLGciYOQjg3146eVTd0ExQ8L0skmR2szi-uUWMBtGKHy4I7KYiSi7hXg0TZzo0SBBy3Q3KdBSV6eI8X0P5qKEx-DldT_mm67XwO9FlSAslwuuzPUM/s1600/P1000475.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmi8xbvGtyfVyaRTi3eKrATnuzVrHLGciYOQjg3146eVTd0ExQ8L0skmR2szi-uUWMBtGKHy4I7KYiSi7hXg0TZzo0SBBy3Q3KdBSV6eI8X0P5qKEx-DldT_mm67XwO9FlSAslwuuzPUM/s320/P1000475.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576167922925180690" /></a><br /></div><div>Owh it's only a bigger version of an Iphone. Nothing more.</div><div><br /></div><div>Still I'm excited to use Ibooks and play Angry bird. Ngahaha...</div><div><br /></div><div>Chiow people</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><div id="cse-search-results"></div>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="http://www.google.com/afsonline/show_afs_search.js"></script></div>afirahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11402705656964035160noreply@blogger.com2