Hello and Goodbye

"You always start with hello."

Some say that I was on a kind of "Eat, Pray Love",

and sthat I completely abandoned all kinds of hedonistic living. 

All we know is I'm back, safe and sound. Well, nothing's on this blog has changed. Neither have I. Although a couple of pretty significant life-changing events did occur since I last posted anything.

Like the passing of a dear lecturer. 

Now, make that two. Another succumbed to also cancer last 2 weeks. It was heart-wrenching, really, but this is life, people come and go. 

Everyone you meet today will leave you someday. Some already did. Some will come back, some will forget you, some will remember, and not a few will leave great memories for you. 

"And love lost will always be love. It takes a different form, that's all. You can't see their smile or bring them food or tousle their hair or move them around a dance floor. But when those senses weaken another heightens. Memory. Memory becomes your partner. You nurture it. You hold it. You dance with it."

and no one can take the memories away from you. Unless of course you get into a crash or something and suffered memory loss. 

sex education 101 with Miss Schue (feat Dinesh)

I was on the way back to my crib from a relief class, dude, I got tons of relief class, when suddenly I thought what a nice idea it would be to drop by and check out Ivan's lesson. I've been meaning to observe his lesson, actually, and since he was already prepared for an observation with his lecturer then, who didn't quite make it, I walked into 4 White to find Ivan already into the Production stage and Dinesh there. I slipped into the chair right next to him.

I sat at the back of the class, observing, thinking about the 3P stages and what to eat for lunch when one of the smartest and definitely noisiest girl in the class, Kesha*, approached us. The pupils were supposed to get into groups and discuss something. Ivan was busy attending to the other groups. 

"Teacher, I have something to ask."

Dinesh and I looked at her. 

"Yes, what is it?"

"What is the meaning of...." then she giggled and shied away. Not even a minute later, she came back.

"Teacher, what is s-e-s...x?" She swallowed the last word. 

There you have it, the million dollar question. 

"Where did you get it?"

"My friend said. What does it mean, teacher? They said it is when a girl and a boy in a room...."

Dinesh and I looked at each other, holding laughters, giving the we-better-stop-this look. 

"Well, sex is something like gender. When you see the word sex is forms and all, it means like, I am a woman while Mr. Dinesh is a man." I quickly said, not feeling bad for lying, for I wasn't. I was just saying half the truth.

"Haaa..yess.." Dinesh said affirmatively to my answer. The girl then went back to her seat.

Later, much later, in the language department, the same story would be told by Mr. Hussein, who said he loves my answer. 

"Nahhhh...teacher said wrong laaa! It's not what you said just now.”  I heard the girl told her friends.

Not so long after that she came again holding a book about a mouse or something. I prayed hard that the last thing I want was the girl founding the word “sex” from the book.

“But teacher, they said different.”

 She was referring to the girls in her group, one of them being the most talkative one in class. I knew she must've gone that from her.

“What did they say?”

She was too shy to say it, so she opened the book. I was so nervous, wondering what a book for children on a mouse has something to do with sex. If she got the word from the book, then I wouldn't  know which will be worse, reading a sentence like "the mice have sex" or explaining to her what is sex. 

As she opened it, I was appalled and shocked to see, in pencil-written words,

“Sex is kissing.”

Turn out she couldnt say the words out, so she wrote it down. I didn't know what to do, so I told her it is something for adult. Not for young children like her. She left. 

Well, the best response, all fellow future educators, would be,

"Go home and ask your mother, we have a lesson to carry on."

This according to Mr. Hussein, for anything you say to a child may backfire to you. Though I think if one day, when I finally have children, having a cute little version of me asking,

"Mom, what is sex? My English teacher told me to ask you,"

That would be pretty darn weird too innit?

Anyways, it is the parents' role to educate the children about this. All the "the birds and the bees" talk. Seriously you can't leave everything to the teachers and school. It is a relief to know that some parents do play their parts. In a different class, I asked students to form words from the letters in "AEROPLANE", and they came out with the word "rape". I was so nervous at the thought of explaining such a brutal word to a class of  9-years-olds girls. Thankfully, when I asked them if they knew the meaning, they said it was a very bad crime. 

Sex education is, seriously, very important. Some teenagers believe that sperms can seep through clothing *facepalm*

Btw,here's a pic of Mr Dinesh and me discussing sex education over lunch. See that wide grin of mine? SexEd is officially my fave subject. Blah. 

*name changed for protection =P

BTW. I googled "sex education syllabus", here's one of my findings:

http://www.breakingnewsenglish.com/0504/050412-sexeducation.pdf 

All in a day of a teacher. (with pictures)

Teaching is, I hope, my life vocation. For one thing, it runs in the family, in the blood in my veins. 


It's like a PTA meeting every Raya, there's so many teachers in the family. 
My grandma was an English teacher.
I have 3 aunts and 2 uncles who are teachers. 
I'm like the third generation or something. 


I'm doing it not for them,though. I'm doing it for myself, for the love of English, the love for children, and the love of talking and wearing high heels and pretty vogue baju kurung-- which you dont, unlike doctors, wear a white coat to cover it underneath. 


Enjoice these pics of mine on my first day of School Based Experience. 


For the record, its a week-long programme where Year 1 and Year 2 degree students in IPG go to school to just, you know, check things out. You may not be required to teach, maybe you'll be given some relief class or something. But its all about the fun, really!

this was in the morning, still neat and pretty

with Miss Tengku in the meeting room--our crib for the week

Hi. I'm Miss Syuhada. U can also call me Miss Chubby.

no, that file ain't mine. 

Breakfast--must have! Never thought Alep and Arep are so...tall! 

Agy and I were dwarfed! 

Char Koey Teow with eggs--RM1.30

relief with ivan and the rest. doing the supercalifra-something.

nobody does teachers-besties better than Agnes and Schue :)

After class. Very tired. Thirsty and running outta voice. 

Lunch pulak. (and soya for 60cents!)

De-stressing moment. As if it was that stressful! ahaha

Dont call me Schue if I aint sleepy!

My fave. BALIK!

Dont write in and say being a teacher is easy. It ain't. Which is why you need love to do it. Lots of Love. 


credit to Haniz Radzi for the camera, Tengku Hyda, Aliff Lembing and Ariff for the pictures :)

Family Dinner :)

Gathered at the dinner table in the kitchen, I was busy texting a friend when Mom asked me to set the table. I was going to skip dinner then, until I heard from the radio that skipping meal doesn’t mean losing weight for it reduces your metabolism rate. I slipped myself into one of the chairs.

Mom and Dad were having their petty trifles arguments.

“Why aren’t you eating?”

“I ate an early dinner with Adam.”

“You had dinner without me.” Mom said.

“You gonna eat those sausages, Along?” Nabiel asked.

“Do Mom and Dad always argue like this, Adam?” I asked.

“You had dinner without me last week. I didn’t fuss.”

“Along, Nabiel’s taking you sausages.” This comes from Adam.

“Yeah, sometimes they argue about the weather”.

“I waited to have dinner with you today and you ate first!”

“Hey, give it back. I didn’t have any sausages in Penang.”

“Why are you fighting over sausages?”

“Why are you fighting over who have dinners first?”

Dinner at my household.

What do you expect? Oh except the worse I haven’t really told yet.

My phone beeped. An incoming text.

“Oh there it beeps again. Boyfriend?”

“Mom, oh my God, boyfriend? What am I, like 14?”

“You don’t do boyfriend at this age?”

“What, wait, are you lesbian?”My dad and his radioactive stare into my eyes.

“Dad! I wont like girls. I’m glad I’m a girl. That way I wouldn’t have to date one. They’re so complicated. One minute they date one, they other minute they are in love with another.

“Are you dating girls?” Nabiel asks.

“And they are so worked up over petty things. They get mad easily over little trifles.”

“Like who had dinner first.” This comes from Dad. 

Suddenly Adam shouted.

“Along EAT NOW AND DO HOMEWORK AFTER THIS”

It has been a long week.

Long tough week full of sorrow, tiredness. 
Feverish, 
Homeworks,
Endless Assignments,
Yelled at, Had a go at,
and
Bonda's gone.


I am glad I am finally going home and get comfort from my family. 

QUARTER LIFE CRISIS. 

AT 21. 

GET OFF ME.

The Most Awesome Friends in Penang

Hi. I'm just tired of writing lesson plan actually.

 So I decided to write about some of my most awesome friends in Penang, the friends to die for. 

The truth is, when I got sick lately after a major heartbreak, I realised that that is Allah's way of showing how I have so many people who love me and care for me, and that I should stop being so sad, mourning and crying about one who doesnt. 

Agnes Teh Guat Ann. 

Haha, bet not many of you know her real name ain't it? But I do, and I also know a great deal about her, like how she likes to eat Tofu and how as a little girl her friends teased her for her nose. When things go wrong, no, when even things didn't go wrong, when things happen, anything, like I have a crush or I was scolded by the boss at work, I'll resort to Agnes. 

Its not like she gives the best advice or anything. It's just she's good at listening. She's so good I think its the only thing she should do. 

There's actually a lot of things I love about her. Like how she is not judgemental towards people. A lot of us can be you know. And you have no idea how relieved I felt, when, on Monday, 13th July 2009, I saw her on our first day at the college. And seeing that we would go to the same class, I thought, this ain't going to be so bad after all, the timid looking girl with a very nice and soft looking face. Easy to bully. Haha.

Oh looks can be deceiving too. She actually pinches me a lot. I can almost see one coming after she reads this post. Ouch!

Farah Ahmad aka Norfarahida Ahmad Shalih

My fondest memory with Farah started when we were in Sem 2 foundation, in 2010. That was like 2 years ago man. Some conflict happened and I broke down and cried and Farah hugged me. Of course she was a great deal a lot nicer to hug then compared to she is today. 

Although Farah may not be as close to me as Agnes is, and there is a lot of things about me that Farah actually doesn't know, I regard her as one of the best friend here in Penang. Maybe in my life too. I still remember how, in 2009, when things were falling apart for me, when I had no friends, no one to do group work with (yes it was that sad) Farah got me to join hers. To do Madam Rokiah's bulletin, as I can still recall. The project must be a success, or Farah must've really like working with me, because ever since then we've been doing all our group projects together. There were times when I feel like experimenting, hooking up with someone else (did I make that sounds dirty) but it doesn't feel half as fun and as thought-provoking. With Farah I have the chemistry, although I know she has been bitching to her roommate (and she bitched to mine) that I spend too much time on Facebook during group discussion.

Oh did I mention she was also one of the reason I joined Puteri Islam?

Loves.

Tengku Nurhydayatul Fathi Tengku Ariffin

aka Sasha/Hyda

If she were Serena, I would be Blair. We are bffs, but well there are some conflicts between us. Like how she hid things from me, how she lied to me, and how I swore not to tell anyone her secrets and I bitchily did, and still at the end of the day we are good friends, BFF.

There's a lot of similarities between Hyda and I. We are both Chinese educated, for one thing, and that really tied the bond between us. It went like,

"You speak Chinese?"

"Yeah."

"Me too!"

The rest is history. And then there's boys and conflicts on relationship. For most of the part we found ourselves in the same boats, same situation. It's really confusing.

Sometimes, I feel that she is like a sister that I never had. And because we are sisters there are sibling rivalry too. Attention and what not. But at the end of the day we still love each other and I don't know why. It's like something you're biologically programmed to.  Like families. You don't love them for a reason. You just do. 

And speaking about family, here's another one!

Ivan Kow Yu Huan

My fairer brother. And by fair I dont only mean skintone, also intelligence. 

I've known him for less than a year. Not that long, but when even people you've known for years can hurt you, he really can't be worse that the people I have been knowing for ages. 

I dont have an older brother. So I really like someone to go protective with me, to hear me bitch, to take me out dinner, which all Ivan fulfilled. As a damm nice brother. We would argue and make fun and laugh and hit and yell and joke with one another, and the best part is we're doing it as friends, siblings, whatever. Sometimes, whenever the fancy takes me, we would even discuss about studies together. I know. So not me. Sometimes we would talk about each others' problems, relationship problems, and he couldnt come out with a good advice, he'll just listen and say, be patient, or dont be sad. Like seriously that's all. 

I am really going to miss Ivan, for in about 12-13 weeks he'll be gone from the college. He'll be graduating, people! and be an awesome teacher. I know he will. I really dont see him coming back to the college, knowing Ivan, but I do hope to see him again in the near future, riding in his Vios (yes he has a Vios!) and listening to the kpop song in it, and listening to his GPS and having him pressing his hands on my cheeks and squeezing my face so hard. And how he would take me out for dinner with Merole and Oren, or how he would say "ingat makan taw" to me and when he freaked out and scolded me for not eating. 


Awww sometimes its so sad to realise good things are to end this fast. :(

Lastly, I hope to see Ivan getting married and have a lot of cute babies before I die.hahahhaa. "TAK MUNGKIN" Ivan will say.

Oh yeah, this one's family too! My classmates from TESL2 Cohort 3 2009. I realised how much they love me since I got sick recently. They really thought I am going to die and got really concerned about me.  Nahh just kidding. 

ok thats all. gotta take my medicine and then beauty sleep. Niteeee. 

Wordless Wednesday yang sebenar.

Agaknya sakit apa kalau dah ubat banyak sampai macam ni? huhu. Speechless kejap bila tengok senarai prescription ubat dari doctor tadi. Hmm. Memamg wordless wednesday sangat lah hari ini. Dengan sakit tekaknya. Ubat banyak-banyak tapi air untuk gargle sakit tekak tak dikasi. Eish. 

Ok let's keep it wordless. I need my bedrest too. And by bedrest I mean...

drafting my Songs and Poetry lesson plan in bed....huhu

bye :)

Where You End and He Begins.

So he asked me out.

I don't feel like starting it all over again. I'm tired. Tired of hoping, of dreaming, of getting high on dreams of happiness that never last. 

I'm scared of hurting again. I'm scared of the thoughts of being alone, lonely and ignored. again. 

I don't want to start something that I pretty much know the ending. It won't last. I didn't see that coming when I started things with you. In fact, I mentioned that "we" were so not happening. But it happened, and it ended painfully, and I don't want to hurt again. 

Getting close, talking, communicating, dating, movies, dinners, holding hands, falling in love, dreams of happiness and the future, believing in "they live happily forever ever after fairy tale ending" and bam! Alone again.

But I want to move on. If this is the only way of getting over you.

So I told him yes.

Now what shall I wear on a first date? *excited*

Mr. Past Tense.

He's much nicer. And better looking. But he's not him. 
He's gone, Reality check.

"So, do you like....blah blah.." 

She could barely hear what he was saying. In fact, she couldn't see him either. All that she saw was, like a film rolled in front of her, memories of herself and another guy, sitting on a table right in front to the one she was that day. 

It felt so surreal, like a dream, she almost felt delusional. She saw them. God she must be hallucinating, but she saw herself and him there, and they were such happy couple, sharing fries and coffees. It could be breakfast, a very early one, or supper, an ultra late one. With them you'll never know, she and him get hungry almost all the time. 

"Why aren't you eating?" the guy next to him asked. Mr. Present Tense. She stared at him, his tan skin, his bespectacled round eyes, his sweet smile and the little gap between his front teeth. It was cute because he didn't rush to fix it. 

Better looking.

Mr. Present Tense 1, Mr. Past Tense nil. 

And yet, She missed that pale face more. That prominent jaw. That boisterous, sometimes obnoxious grin. That eyebrows frowning, as if thinking hard. That eyes that widen as he tells her a story, something she already knows, yet she listens with attention. 

Those were the days.

Mr. Past Tense 1, Mr Present Tense--friendzoned--1.

"I don't eat spicy food." she said to Mr. Present Tense. It was only half the truth. She eats spicy food, being a Southern girl. She just don't feel like eating spicy food now, she thought. 

Mr. Past Tense doesn't like spicy food. He told her over dinner one day. Boy did they eat a lot, lunch, brunch, tea, dinner,supper and just everything in between.

She could still remember the first time she had dinner with him. It was somewhere near their place, with a couple of friends trying hook them up (subtle), she acted least interested (pretty subtle), wearing a very ladylike blouse and looking so demure, bottom line: not being herself. He dominated the conversation, but she found him boring. She even almost swore never to go out with him again. 

So much for first impression. 

And last night, as she had dinner with Mr. Present Tense at the same place she had with him, she reminisced the past, and her heart ached thinking how back then, she never thought things will end this way, and she would have to mention him, or things that she never thought they would be doing---in a past tense.

a yellow rose.

It was a busy night. She had assignments due the next day, and no thanks to her laziness and her very hectic social life, she kept it till the very eleventh hour. That moment it occurred to her that if she had kept herself busy since the very beginning she would've finish the assignment by then. 

And she would be so busy, she wouldn't let her heart and mind to think about him.

Him. 

Thoughts of him lingered around her mind all day long. Almost everything reminded her of him. The places they went, the food they ate, the books they read, the stories they told each other. She didn't love him, or so she said, but she could never deny that they were very much attached. No, she was very much attached to him.

Came the maelstrom one day. Things were complicated and to not perpetuate it they disavowed each other, silently, which made everything all the more painful for her. She tried to make amendments, not wanting to jeopardise their friendship. A yellow rose symbolizing what's left in them-the friendship-was far from reciprocated. And things ended just that. 

It was easy at first. She could take it. She could handle it, she told herself. Then the drugs were wearing off, and came the withdrawal syndrome, where she started yearning for him the way a junkie wants his drug.

She wanted to see him. Not his picture. Not anything that reminds her of him. Just him. Not to meet him either. Just her seeing him, and him seeing her. She wanted to see his face when he sees her again. Oftentimes, they say, you don't miss the person, only the routine. She did miss the routine, but she wanted to see him, too. Does that mean she miss him?

But he was gone forever.

So the night, after days of avoiding him in the virtual world, after even one small photograph of him made her heart ache and reminded her of the time she had with him, after refraining from reminiscing "those-were-the-days" moments, she couldn't take it no more.

and despite her assignments and projects, she said to herself,

"and I just want to see."

She clicked on an image of him and sighed at the sight of a man who promised her so much and brought such joy to her and broke her heart. It was a masochistic act, for she stared at the picture of him smiling, and her heart disintegrating.

Rest assured,the sight would soon be indifferent to her. Knowing her, she's resilient enough. She'll soon get over it. Till then, she'll live with the heartbreak.

I Love You My Brother :)

#true story

I met my brother today. The second of the bunch, he is always my favourite. No that's wrong. I love all my brothers. Equally. Umar Hakimi, Muhammad Aliff Saddiqin, Harris Buqhary, Nabiel Muzammil and Adam Mikhael. Anyway seeing Umar at Gurney today after 2 weeks of (me and him) not being home still made my day.

The sight of him, all thin and small and frail made me happy. He left home two weeks ago for some PLKN programme in Pahang and made his way to Penang, and Ummi hadn't heard from him since then. For Ummi, I arranged for a meeting with him today. One glance of his bald head and I wanted to cry already.

We met at Gurney food court, hung out and talked for a while(by "talked" here I mean scolding him for not going home in Ipoh and making Ummi worried as hell) and beating the shit out of him, punching him and pinching his arms (that's how we express our love) only to find how skinny my little brother is.

I called Ummi the moment I finally met him, and Ummi cried. That's typical of Ummi, always nervous, always anxious, always worried. She once freaked out and called Agnes and cried because I didn't call her for 2 days. Mothers are always like that, no matter how old you are, 21, 19, she will still worry. A lot.

Back to my brother, we camwhored a bit, took some pictures of ourselves (as children we were photographed a lot) and walked around Gurney with him trying to make me sponsor him SUB, Padini, Topman, Jefferson, all ignored by me. He told me he is just hanging around in his friend's place here in Penang simply because "good ol God-forsaken Ipoh is too boring." I told him to go home many times, but he just won't as yet.

I decided to treat him dinner and knowing my brother and the monster he has in his stomach, I was prepared to splurge for him. Eat all you want, I told him as we were browsing through the likes of satay, pasembur, sup gearbox, and whatchamacallit you-name-it-we-got-it. 

To my surprise he went for a humble nasi ayam (chicken rice, duhh) for only 3 bucks. So not my brother, I thought as I wolfed down the pasembur with Agnes Ann.

Then came this beggar, in his 40s, limping from some leg injury but I thought, whatever, even he could get a job somewhere. He went from table to table. When he reached ours, I looked away, but my penniless, broke, jobless little brother who sort of ran away from home, reached for his pockets and  gave the man all the coins that he had. 

I was appalled. Flabbergasted. Shocked. Most of all, ashamed. 

There he was, jobless. He couldn't possibly have much And I had 4k in my bank account just last month. And I didn't even give a dollar to a man limping simply because I think he is capable enough of landing a job.

What does that make me?

The night ended when my brother and his friend decided to head home in Teluk Kumbar. I hugged him and almost cried, but I didn't  (Thank God!) because its very soppy, I didn't  want to ruin my eye make-up and the guy across the table was looking at me *vain*

I love you brother. I am sure all the hardship, all the life in Penang  that you are going through is giving you a different perspective in life. I want to tell you to go home, but even if you won't, I take it for granted that you will take good care of yourself. Be good.

Love, your Along. 

happy :)

Hi. I'm well, still breathing. The past couple of days have been pretty different, weird, but different. For some unknown reason I felt feel happy. Not just happy, it's more of a euphoric kind of feeling. I laughed a lot and crapped a lot in class and appeared more cheerful and annoying ever.

I sort of think I am going back to my old self again, my old satisfied, content self. Now I laugh at every little things that happen, like waking up early in the morning, or going for a run, or giving back massage to a classmate during lecture and going dinners with friends. All those (and many others) have managed to put a little smile on my face,showing my sets of teeth and a right cheek dimple.

For a good chapter of my life I have been depending on others (read: guys) to give me that smile. I relied on them to make me happy, and I was trying hard to make them happy, too, that I forgot  to make myself happy, and I didn't realised I was actually bleeding inside. Even when I found the stain, the blood, I was masochistic, stupid enough to think that all this pain, all that hurt was one day going to finally give me the happiness I want.

It won't. It didn't. They say you won't get a rainbow without a little rain, but it didn't happen to me. I got rain, storms, tsunamis and still where is my rainbow?

In the end I got so wounded and sick, emotionally, that I began to stop feeling. I became numb. And nothing hurt any more, nothing gave me the pain. And I started hurting others. 

I am so used to being alone,

I couldn't feel any lonelier. 

That's when I realised I had the rainbow, the sunshine in me. I was just too blind to see it. And now I want it again, back with me, the contentment. A lecturer made a comment on how prettier I look (she's always too generous with compliments) and I laughed my ass off, slept a lot, ate a lot you might think I had pot or some kind of dope. I am. It's called satisfaction.