The glorious and triumphant return of now-19 year old Blogger, the revival of a once-grand and dare I say influential webspace that produced daily content, and the crippling anxiety of a young woman who no longer has any time or motivation to write, and feels like any ability she had acquired in the past through repetition and sheer will alone is now slowly slipping out of her grasp. Brief history of the Blog and Blogger can be found here.

Here be personal journal entries, observations, slices of life, questions and conclusions, as well as exploration of social and political topics seen through the lens of a Malaysian Muslim, feminist, lesbian, Marxist, and horse enthusiast.

Monday, October 24, 2011

Back Down

In Which I Make Up For Lost Time

What Happened With Nadiah?

Here's a hilarious tale to tell the folks back home! Saturday of what I'd like to call PMR Limbo (in which we are stuck between sighing in relief at the completion of six PMR subjects and yet still fretting over the upcoming two subjects on Monday, or if you're one of those unfortunate souls, whatever other language papers you took on Tuesday) (and who's honestly surprised I took up a shitload of space just to explain what PMR Limbo meant, a term that only I use), Hanna, Nisa and I received a lovely text message from Nadiah about how she would be unable to make it to our KL Post-PMR Trip because of Reasons. 

The whys and wherefores are kind of headache-inducing, so I'm not dipping into that, but rest assured, there was a massive text message war centered around (I'd like to think) me and Nadiah, primarily, because Nisa is a woman of not that many words (and even less money for text-messaging purposes) and I dragged Hanna into it, but she did not go unwillingly. So you might say (and I would agree) that I was the catalyst because I apparently struck some nerve or another and all Nisa said was, "Thanks." Which, in my view, at least, was rude, but not entirely unexpected coming from Nisa. 

What is unexpected is how Nadiah treated what I said as if that was unexpected. I still haven't deleted the texts from Saturday, as much as I long to, because my phone is ancient and not from this century so deleting text messages isn't a luxury I could indulge in lest I have an hour or two to spare. So I do know what I said. Sap that I am, I have read and reread the conversations from that day (and that in itself is no easy feat for my phone given how I had to switch between my Inbox and my Sentbox) and I have not come to a conclusion.

For what it's worth (a total of nothing and zero cents), considering the fact that I had hurt Nadiah's feelings in some sense, I am sorry. I actually told this tale to a lot of my friends and most of them either stared at me like I was deranged or scoffed, because if you've been friends with me for any number of months, years or decades (although no one's lasted that long, trust me), you would know that most of my fights with people are text-message based. As in, they started out with a text message and then it all just spiraled out of control from there. I guess I really should stop? Or people should just stop getting close to me through text? I am surprisingly not full of myself or all that mean on the Internet (besides this blog, that is) because I know how words can be twisted and misinterpreted. (Fights have also occurred because of things said on this blog, surprise, surprise!). But I don't seem to hold text messages in that regard. Maybe it's high time I start doing that.

Or maybe it's high time people stop taking everything I say seriously because I am honestly not that cruel. 

Regardless, I am working on Project Get Nadiah Back, which is not all that dissimilar from Project Get Nisa and Hanna back but I may have an ally in Hanna. Hanna, who did nothing but contribute a maybe strongly worded (and definitely all-capped) text that Saturday and at whom Nadiah couldn't possibly be that mad at. Speaking of the extent of Nadiah's anger (or maybe anger is the wrong word. She doesn't seem angry. She seems mighty content with the friends that she's got right now, actually. I mean, God knows no group of friends exist without drama but maybe she's trying out the whole distancing herself from it thing), she is willing to give out a smile and a hello (because Nadiah's a nice person and confused or ignorant or whatever, I'd put money on her going to heaven), but she refuses to hang out with us. If I were Nadiah (and I'm definitely not), I would probably do the same so I honestly don't begrudge her for that. And unlike Hanna and Nisa, I didn't really feel all that rejected when she didn't want to hang out. I am (hilariously) taking a page out of Pri's book and giving her "space". We'll see where things go from Monday. 

This is weird, though, isn't it? I mean, writing about Nadiah. I wrote a lot about Hanna last year, when I got crap from people for being friends with her. I guess I understand the passion behind the, "Why are you even friends with her?s" that I got because Hanna is, well, Hanna. And I'd vouch for her behind her back and I'll mock her behind her back, it doesn't really make that much of a difference. I wrote a lot about Nisa as well just because we've been friends for a long time, way before all of this linearity shit came to light. I could write a thesis on Nisa because I have so much material on her, past and present. I wrote loads about Helena last year. Not a lot about Maze because we made the agreement to 'talk it out'. We also have a 'don't talk about me on your blog' agreement, which might be one of the contributing factors. Might. I talk about family, all of whom I love. Maybe not dearly, maybe not passionately, but definitely to an extent. And, of course, I talk about them. The only two people who managed to make my life both the best thing to be living and hell at the same time. I wrote pages. Nope, not really, I wrote epic pieces, novels and tomes. Several days' worth of reading material. 

But Nadiah. I mean, I don't love Nadiah. I know as much. I say I love Hanna and to a very, very limited extent, I do. I love Raihan, Nisa and Afreena like I love my iPod. It'll hurt like a son of a bitch to find a new one. I probably will never get a new one if I lost it, anyways, because my parents surely won't fork out that much cash for something that my mother got for herself and I "stole". I love Helena like, well, like that. Oh, my God, no, not that that. But that. And I love Chris Colfer.

But Nadiah.

So it's weird to write about her. Simply because there is no passion or really all that much meaning behind these words. I mean, I am sorry, that much I know to be true. I am going to initiate Project Get Nadiah Back, because as a group, we need her, even if Nisa doesn't want anything to do with her at the moment. It's more like... preservation. Of what? Of, like, well, a friendship? Maybe I learned that lesson, whatever that lesson is? That I've got to treasure the friends that I've got and never let them go? Anyways, like I said, we'll see. We'll definitely see. There is no air of finality to this yet.

What's Going On At School? 

I'm back at 4SC and the Gallery for recess duty. I swear, the first day back I had no clue what time prefects were allowed to go out for their early recess. And we haven't had to fully go through an assembly yet. I mean, we tried, this week, but it got cancelled. Last assembly of the year is next week's, I think, so it's just one more mountain to climb and then it (hopefully) gets easier from then on. Also, hopefully the students of 4SC decide they would rather stay at home and soak up the final days of schooling at home before they have no more school and have to stay at home.

The first day was kind of confusing because we were at a total lost for what to do. Stupid Nisa didn't come and, of course, none of us were talking to Nadiah, so I made the day my own. I think I finished a book? Yeah, that sounds about right. A book in a day. And Hanna lent me a book so I had something to do the next day. We returned text books, mainly, and then had a little personality/career test thing which we had previously done during PMD. So all in all, what a waste of a day and fuck you, Nisa for having the foresight to stay at home instead. Went to Ikea after school to scope out bookshelves! Got some candles so now my room smells freaking good all the freaking time.

They gave out the forms for streaming the next day (Thursday) and, of course, they had a briefing. I got to staple the forms. I don't know why I remember this but I do. Anyways, after all was said and done, I read some more and slept some more. Nisa came because she was scared that something would happen if she missed out on the streaming form. Big whoop. 

Friday was a... well, you know what happened on Friday, with the Dare To Speak workshop thing. Saturday as well. I would say that it was a good workshop. It was also a sobfest, but whatever. I've been to too many of those in my lifetime. It never fails to surprise me how selfish I am because I only cry for myself. Well, most of the time. I mean, I can't really remember ever crying for someone else. Except for maybe camp, but camp was a big headache wrapped in a brain tumor with a side of coma so I really didn't expect myself (or anyone else) to have done anything short of crying their eyes out in such a situation. It worries me sometimes, but it's not really a race or a test or whatever, you know. I mean, unless they're about to measure my EQ, in which case I should be somewhat worried, but even then I can't really bring myself to care. 

Saturday night was spent at Hanna's with Nisa, which in itself was a wonder. I never thought we would get there because, well, what the fuck is this. Last year, one of my biggest fears was mixing my groups of friends around. It still makes me somewhat uncomfortable but it's honestly nothing I can't handle. So far. Sunday was a bucket of I can't remember what happened. I called Maze and stayed on the phone for two hours plus and then I read some fanfiction and probably fell asleep. 

Back to school on Monday felt like such a punch in the guts. It wasn't what I would call a good day. In fact (and I don't use this comparison lightly, nor do I decide to take it out of my back pocket all that often for reminiscing's sake), it kind of reminded me of the Monday after Hari K last year.

Why do I do this to myself? Why do I insist on torturing myself? I don't deserve this.

I guess I should back up. Rewind a little so things could start to make sense again. On Saturday, Nisa said something that really (for lack of better terms) moved me. After a year of getting crap because of my obsession with Chris Colfer, after a year of getting asked the same question by sometimes the same people and a year of having to deal with "he's REALLY gay?", it just came as a shock, is all. It was jarring, when Nisa said what she said, that people were allowed to like whichever celebrity they wanted to and shouldn't get hate just because they liked a certain celebrity. About a year and then some ago, Nisa surprised me when she showed concern for me on Hari K. And now she surprised me again. 

And this time, it's not about somebody else. This time, as clear as night and day and day and night, it's about me and her. And I'm feeling it again. That push. That block. That voice inside my head telling me that I need to back up. Rewind a little. When she started crying during the first day of Dare To Speak, I couldn't move. I literally felt my eyes widen and I was searching any crevice in my brain for a joke, an offhand comment, something to lighten the mood. But I couldn't. I just couldn't think. I made my decision then, I think, to change the topic. And then Pri got up and her speech was so classic Pri and, honestly? That was when I started crying. Not after the Nisa thing. Not really. It wasn't wholly about that. It was a lot of things, at once.

Saturday and Sunday was such a high. I felt so high. As high as I might have felt on Hari K. Monday was the crash.

Tuesday through Thursday was bullshit. I slept a lot, read a lot and I don't even know what the fuck that flash mob thing was but I'm just glad it's behind us. It was a disaster, sure, but I think that given the venue and the occasion, we paid it the right amount of consideration. We had fun. We had a blast, actually, and all of those other classes complained of being tired and they looked it (they came out of the flash mob sweaty and red in the face) and we were just like... fish out of water. I hope I'll never forget Nina and Meetra's faces when they turned around and started teaching us the steps towards the end of our "routine" (if it can even be called that). It was stressful, sure, and I'm not happy that Nina looked on the verge of tears and Meetra, well, she looked constantly constipated, but the payoff was equal to the effort. Some might even go as far as to say that the payoff was even more than the effort put in, considering we had so much fun.

Friday was odd.

I don't really understand Friday. I mean, I couldn't if I tried. What happened was that... I just didn't want to hang out with Nisa anymore. It wasn't even pushing her away and I didn't even subconsciously try to reason myself into it. I just... didn't want to. So I talked to Hanna and then some other people and slept next to Sabrina and then it just got a teeny tiny bit more weird. I don't know how to put this into words so that people won't think any less of me when they read this but... Pri was nice to me? Is that the right thing to say? Probably not. I always end up sticking my foot in it anyways but that was, essentially, what happened. From the moment I woke up from my nap all the way until we went home. And it was... odd?

I mean, bizarre

What's Happened This Weekend?

We went to Singapore during the weekend. It was my parents and my sister and I. From the moment we crossed immigration till the very last seconds of our stay, we were quarreling and fighting. I mean, on the way somewhere (I can't remember), the car ride got too quiet, so I said, "Ma... jom gaduh." When we got back to Johor, things were a little on the better side but my parents had A Talk with my sister so she wasn't in the best of moods. I was, though. My dad mooched Internet connection off of my mother's phone and I was able to view pictures of Chris Colfer and it was a weekend well spent, let me tell you. Couldn't read fanfiction, though, because, you know, my Dad's laptop and all. 

Highlight of the trips to Singapore and Johor (I consider them separately) was definitely hanging out with my sister's cat, Smoky (or maybe Smokey?) and his friend Caesar (or maybe its spelled differently, who knows?). On the final day (actually, the final hour) of my stay at her house, Smoky finally got rid of his scaredy cat syndrome and didn't run away in the other direction whenever I approached him. Shame. His memory's terrible. When he stayed over here, he used to come up on the bed with me, let me read Cummings to him, and snuggle up under my arms!

What Else? 

Book club with Ellie and her gang of Lauren and Mikhail and my gang of Xueh Wei and Nadhrah & Khairin (they come together). In the grand scheme of things, I have been worrying about this the most out of all of the other things I mentioned up there, which is just typical me. Title of said book club is very inspired, if you asked me.

I have a lot of other Holiday Things to do. But mostly I'm satisfied with what I've accomplished today, which was assemble the bookshelf I got (incidentally similar to Sabrina's!) and collected my new membership card from Book Xcess. And had ice-cream, which should be an accomplishment in anyone's book.

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