Almost all of prelim results are out. When have I ever felt completely satisfied with any of my grades? This is no different. But it is chem that just drives me up the wall. Hate it so much.

Found anwar awlaki's website and had to refrain self from downloading everything... Wonder if I should invest in my own discman at least.

I can hear kuda kepang from outside my window! What are these people doing? I think I'd like to see a proper one once, without having any scary side effects. Aunts got possessed once just by watching.

I have been reading Philippa Gregory's Wideacre, and as usual, it centres on the oppression of the female species. It just fills me up with frustration and anger. Set in 18th century England, Beatrice Lacey, the daughter of a squire, loves her father's land - Wideacre - but soon feels betrayed when she realises as she grows up, that there is no way in the world she would be able to continue living on Wideacre and be a part of it. When her father dies, everything goes to her elder brother and she, as is expected of her sex, will be married off. Poor Beatrice is driven to dark plots to keep a part of Wideacre to herself. She consented to her beloved father's murder, only to regret it after the deed was done. The story is steeped with acts of betrayal that leaves me breathless with shock, and am only at the beginning.

My entire family, Papa, Mama and Harry, could all die in pain and horror and still I would be no nearer to the ownership of the land. There was a barrier against me no skill of mine could overleap. Generations of men had built defences against women like me, against all women. They had ensured we would never know the power and the pleasure of owning the earth beneath our feet and growing the food that went on our tables. They had built a great chain of male control, of male power and beastly male violence between me and my need for the land. And there was no way, enforced by male-dominated laws and male-established tradition, that I could overthrow them.

I am happy that I live in this century and in this country, where as far as I know, I can do what I want. There are womens' rights and the UN and equality and democracy and whatever-else-in-the-name-of-freedom. But lurking everywhere else in daily life, subtly impressed, are the proprieties of women.

Tell me to do work in the kitchen because my grandma needs help and like any normal, considerate person, I should lend a helping hand. Don't tell me to help because I'm the girl, because that's not a reason! Everytime it happens, I sizzle with anger and my tongue just begs to be allowed to lash out in retaliation. But I refrain, and I let myself simmer, because on occasions when I've given my tongue free reign, it doesn't turn out good and I never win. As is been said: it's male-established tradition.

It shouldn't have to work like this anymore. The woman earns the money too, shouldn't domestic duties be shared as well? I suppose for some families, this has happened, and I applaud them. But not for mine, and I think not for many families. If old-age tradition of wives serving husbands hand-and-foot remains in this era, I don't see why I would want to get married at all. The benefits lie heavily on the male side. The husband is mothered, served in and out of bed and extra money flows in. While the wife serves and serves and serves. The wife doesn't even use the husband's money anymore because she has her own. Women! Where is the logic in doing this other than to conform? (If you're desperate for children, go and adopt like Angelina Jolie. Childbirth isn't so fun, you know.)

Apparently, it is demeaning to wash a dirty plate; a man's pride suffers tremendously. Funny they should think that way. Because I think I would melt if a guy offers to help with the dishes; after which I would insist, eyes shining in admiration, that I do everything myself, while he rests. Which brings me to the topic of love.

Fine, love conquers all. Logic is thrown out the window. Trapped in its snare, one would go to the ends of the earth for his beloved. And so, yes, I can see why a thousand million wives serve their husbands everyday. Ah sigh. My arguments gone to waste because of this mysterious thing called love.

I have become so money-minded, it scares me. All because I am so damned desperate to study overseas. I'd be walking to catch the train in the early morning and I'd be thinking: if only I could get on 'Who Wants To Be A Millionaire?' and win. Or at least get past the 250 thousand mark. Or maybe win some on Wheel of Fortune. If I could only have that one bit of shining, golden opportunity. Besides having to fight for a scholarship, that is. And then this person, real or not, appears to tempt me (refer to my guestbook if you're lost at this point). What the. I am confused. I can't help thinking: what if this is for real and I threw away the opportunity to gain some money whilst helping someone, instead of resorting to crime? (Haha, I won't. Promise.)

Remember, Shamiah... money is the root of all evil.

Why must everything be so expensive these days. Siiiiigh.

Almost done with UCAS application. Am waiting for credit card numbers (a.k.a. parents) to come back and then this part will be done. I don't know if I'm doing the right thing. Where will this bring me in 10 years' time? I have no idea.

"I shall be telling this with a sigh. Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference." -Robert Frost

I sure hope Mr Frost is right.

It's funny how... you don't want your parents to decide for you, but then you want them to approve everything. It isn't easy. I just feel so torn sometimes. And I can easily understand how some people who lose their parents as they grow up, end up getting strength and focus from that and eventually do whatever their parents had wanted; dedicating half their lives to their lost parent. I'd do the exact same thing. I've thought of it many times. Of course, I always pray it never comes to that.

Hm. Feel like pasting Frost's poem now.

Prelims over. A little bit of break within the eye of the storm.

My eyes are already deteriorating and it's only been one day since my return to bibliohism. And I am occassionally gripped by fear of losing my eyesight. How would I read without it? How would I do all the things I love to do? There's always so much to be grateful for, right? I wish I could always remember that.

I feel cooped up in the house. It's no good when other people are only just starting exams. I want to watch Brothers Grimm so much but have no company. I have a seemingly dismal social circle. And Nekmah coming over is nice and all (nice food especially), but at the sacrifice of a weekend of freedom. Parents off for the weekend again to say farewell to Pakcik Mail Kelantan who's going for Haj.

And Cassie has given good news. DV to be officially complete before Christmas this year. Wow. It's been a long time coming. And DT remains the best fanfiction ever. And the D/H relationship the most intense, most special, most loving brotherhood-friendship in all of fiction, as I know it. As long as it remains free of, god-forbid, slash.

~

Dinodi's Kau Pergi Jua is so good... and the lyrics are so bittersweet. Can listen to it over and over. My OCD strikes again.

Had really weird dreams last night. One strange one after another.

In one of them, I was standing with my sister in my living room, with the window next to us. We were looking out. And I remember feeling immensely terrified. Because... there were these bombs going off all over our neighbourhood, and I was just speechless. The both of us saw one missile come close by our window. But we were never hit. There was just a great shaking all over, like a humungous quake.

After that one, I found myself at Darul Ma'wa. Arguing with Mdm Zainah. Because she absolutely refused to respond to my email, and is almost always busy. I said to her all the things I'm chicken to say in real life. I told her how I never intended to intrude into her schedule, but that CIP hours were important for our testimonial and that she should respect that and at least respond to my email like she said she would. I said I hated the whole pearls system too, and I wouldn't want the hours anyway if I could help it. I argued a lot. It's funny how you play out all the things you can't or won't do in real life, in your dreams. It's liberating sometimes. And I am always much more confident in my dreams, like am not afraid to do anything at all. Maybe that's who I want to be, but fail to become, so far, in reality. I've confronted loads of people in my dreams - given my piece of mind to snobs (this, I say, is the most fun), shouted at people who irritated me, discuss certain things that are really inconceivable in actual life, talked to movie stars (very fun) etc. I wish I could do lucid dreaming, sometimes.

The last dream I had before I woke up was me sitting in front of my laptop and it conking out on me. I was about to burst into tears. Once I was conscious, I came online and here I am. I had to make sure my computer is fine. This is probably after-trauma from yesterday's sudden online crash. I was trying to open the HP trailer file from Leaky Cauldron and suddenly the whole screen when blue and blank and spontaneously restarted. It was a horrific episode for me. I love my comp - it contains a lot of my heart and soul. Important things! *Hugs compaq*

Okay, time to listen to Abah and get virus protection.

oh, btw, phy plus the S, chem and bio paper 1 left.

The second last hurdle approaching. And the biggest and scariest one too. I scare myself by being so calm when I know I'm screwed. Where is my sense of urgency?

I wonder if my life will go on being filled with these... phases of obsession. I have had them for as long as I can remember... I think. I'll go absolutely mad about a book, story, movie, show or occasionally an activity, and then when that dies down, I'll jump to another. It's probably very unhealthy. I'm so into that other world, I don't care about reality.

At this point, whatever makes me happy. As long as I don't start talking to imaginary beings, I think I'm still sane.

I like Joan of Arcadia! It's only just started on Channel 5 but I've been looking it up and found out what happens... all the way till season 2. The idea that God walks among us could be considered blasphemous in itself, but it provides the opportunity for important issues, like why people have to die, suffer etc, to be brought up and discussed. And that makes for riveting conversations. And the writers are smart enough to always be able to create a flawless 'God's plan' for every episode. And the dialogue is often ponder-able, thought-provoking, funny and quotable. Plus, it has a fantastic cast. The young actors are all so good, which was why it did well I suppose. I've watched video clips and all the actors can cry, guys included. I guess people who have something against sappy shows might not want to watch so much. But it's a worthwhile one hour each week, IMO.

I wonder if you girls have received this very interesting email that's been circulating. It's titled The Best-Looking Guy In The World. I was skeptical at first. Kak Naz was the one who sent it to me (no surprise there). But then I saw the pictures. And I went @_@. I showed my sister. Who also became @_@. Okay. So not all email is crap. I looked him up. And found all these blogs (and here I add myself to the list) gushing about him and the circulating email. Very amusing.

I should be studying! What am I doing here, posting about guys of all things...

My father has resorted to bribery. Now, what do I do? Medicine... Here I come?

And Scotland is sounding more appealing than ever. My itchy fingers flipped through the Lonely Planet Guide Yeatian got for me, and my heart just ached to be there. Really. The walking tours sound so fun! (Although I realise I have to resort to eating potatoes and fish everywhere I go and ensure no alcohol is put into any of my food.) And they're not so expensive. Castle admissions are about 5 pounds (average)... And it's all so pretty! I want to go there so much.

Last night, went out for dinner with family as usual. Then after eating, as usual, we didn't want to go home. We actually sat in the car in the carpark for a few minutes, arguing about not knowing where to go... until I started laughing at the ridiculousness of our behaviour. Really. How mad, I say.

Why does the Western world seem to westernise everything. Especially our names. Melaka, not Malacca. And it's Mekkah, not Mecca. How can they mutilate Ibn Sina into Avicenna, Al-Ghazali into Algazel and Al-Khawarizmi into Algorizm (father of Algorithms), among many others. Beautiful names deformed and latinised. Until one can't tell it was the Arabs who came up with much of the mathematical methods and theories we use today. Singapore was their creation too, I bet. Sometimes, when you look at it, the world seems to bow at their feet. Ugh. Yes, we know, much of the progress of humanity is due to the West (especially Renaissance Italy, from what I gather in Rule of Four)... But there were other civlisations too before they became all powerful today. At least they should realise that. And not forget that, once you reach the peak, there's no where else to go but down. Be humble, I say.

~

Ami Ali insists they stole from us. I said, probably not all of it. But now I think it might have been a lot of it.

Adulthood is a glacier encroaching quietly on youth. When it arrives, the stamp of childhood suddenly freezes, capturing us for good in the image of our last act, the pose we struck when the ice of age set in.

~The Rule of Four

PEARLS really, really sucks. I hate it so much. I hate it! Maybe we don't deserve the 30 hours since it's so freaking hard to get it verified. There must be some reason why the world is so against my being able to verify it. ARGH.

I love the Qura'an.

This is not an attempt to preach or anything. It is not my place to. I am just saying that I love the Qura'an. It is the most wonderful text. Since it is from God. And one day, when I have the time, when I have fulfilled my wordly obligations, I shall sit down and study every single page and every single word. Forget about Hypnerotomachia or whatnot. This is the ultimate text to the revelation of the universe. I cannot even begin to describe its magnificence and the awe it inspires in me. It is scientifically accurate.

Did you know that the word 'month' is mentioned 12 times and the word 'day' is mentioned 365 times in the Qura'an? And this book was compiled 1400 years ago. And that's just one of many things.

... yet still from our signs they are turning away. ~ Chapter 21 Verse 32

I see my saying that I'll miss school has evoked a violent response.

It's true that I'll probably idealise the memory... I suppose, when I'm 49 or something, I'll look back and think how I enjoyed myself so much playing Sahabat 1 in Dwidarma and forget the whole other part of drama - the stress of meeting deadlines, and not being able to get people together and cikgu scolding us. Or how much I enjoyed breaks, forgetting that there were the torturous lessons. And recall the times celebrating end of exams but forget the stress of exams. But isn't it better then...? To be able to forget the unhappy things you went through and remember the good things? Then when you're 60, you won't keep thinking your life has majorly sucked. Besides... how can you have happy things happening if there aren't bad ones?

PEARLS are the bane of my existence. Am going down to Darul Ma'wa tomorrow to negotiate CIP hours.

And oh, I found out Leila Bafadhal lives in the UK! A Bafadhal in the UK! IS THIS A SIGN? For me? Haha, I just sent her another email, telling her about the Bafadhals in Singapore and asking her about hers. How interesting. Am quite excited at finding a possible connection with this person. Maybe from some far branch of our ancient family tree. If I were to want to make up my family tree, I'd have to travel quuuiiite a bit, but it'd be damn worthwhile. History is so intriguing.

If my parents were not so narrow-minded about the arts, I might have taken it and studied history. I am so fascinated by it. My arts combination would definitely have History and Literature and Theology. I impulsively picked up my brother's book, Rule of Four, which talks about an ancient text - the Hypnerotomachia. It is so cool. It's a huge puzzle, which broken would reveal unimaginable secrets of the past.

Had Bio S... Exhausted. I think my second essay has almost no chance of even getting a merit. Feel like banging head against wall. Gah. But at least I finished the paper. Wrote about the survival of the species and reproductive strategies (talked some about courting rituals of flies. haha.). And the other one was about the behaviour of chromosomes in meiosis which causes observed patterns of inheritance. I like genetics... not the DNA technology part with recombinant DNA and microinjection and ligase and terminal transferase and whatnot... but the mendelian genetics part. Crossing and Punnett squares are fun. It really is. It's one of those rare things that you study that are really, truly interesting and you can almost apply it immediately to real life.

Bought stuff for cikgu and ms lo. I wonder how many J2s will be in school tomorrow. Will be interesting. Speaking of which... today's morning assembly was funny. There was like... a total of perhaps 40 J2s at the parade square... and we all sort of clustered together. Joined 3B, and oh Clement Zheng was in school at that time, with no paper to sit for. Apparently he misses school so.

After years and years of vehement curses about school and how I hate it... I am going to miss it when I leave. Quite positive I will. This is why life is weird (among other reasons).

Got back home damn early today - 12.30. Ms Lo ended GP 40 minutes before end of lesson, and then I took taxi home with Jean. Then unfortunately realised that there's no food at home. @_@ Friday nights are family dinner nights.

GP on Monday and Bio S on Tuesay. Halp.

Someone named Leila Bafadhel has signed my guestbook! How exciting. I've never met someone not from my family, who has my last name. As far as we know, we're the only Bafadhals in Singapore.

-

Genius is 99% perspiration and 1% inspiration. ~ Thomas Edison (whose idol is Leonardo Da Vinci, who was in turn voted the Most Creative Genius of the Millenium)

Leonardo Da Vinci was friends with Niccolo Machiavelli. Have you noticed how geniuses tend to be friends with geniuses? Best help produces best? Great minds think alike? Hm.

This past weekend my parents had abandoned us kids at home and gone on a honeymoon for their 21st anniversary, and it was a nice win-win situation for both sides. My parents had a good time and we kids had a good time.

First of all, despite having free reign of 4 different television sets (2 with cable) and all-day internet connection, I studied. I actually woke up on saturday morning and got straight down to working. The house was quiet and I was not in the least bit distracted. Productivity declined as the day wore on but at least some things were accomplished.

On saturday night, Said and Hussein hanged around till 11pm. We ordered macs but it came 2 hours late, and the boys were ready to resort to violence. On sunday night, went out to eat at pizza hut (Kaktiyah's treat). No adults again, although technically Kaktiyah is 20 and adult... but hey, I don't see her as one. Haha. After our mini pizza fest, we went to buy vcds. Purchased 4 different movies at one shot: Calcium Kid, Schindler's List, Saving Private Ryan and Forrest Gump. And got home at 10.30 on a school night.

The taste of freedom. Damn nice.

The 8 of us are growing up... and growing apart? So sad. Not necessarily, right? Sigh. Suppose some things will inevitably change, but I hope we can hold on to some things. And having dinner like last night is good.

I don't know if everyone has that group of people they grow up with. This is mine: 8 blood-related cousins (of many, but we're close). And because we're cousins, we get to do more things together than what 8 friends normally would. I have known them for as long as I can remember, travelled half the world with them, watched the boys outgrow all the girls, had fights, had embarassing scenes, stayed up till 2 am playing etc. Our games have morphed from playing doctor, house, 'restaurant', tremors, ghost to a phase of soccer which we girls hated to playstation to... almost nothing now. Kaktiyah's working midnight shifts 3 times a week these days, and Hefni's in NS. And next in line is me.

And I'm going to make it worse by wanting to study overseas more than almost anything else in the world.

I suppose I have to learn to let go of the past and move on. Good things lie ahead too.

Tony Buzan, for those who do not know, although I think you very well should, is the genius behind mind maps. Mind maps are his creation. He is also the one with the highest creative IQ in the world. I've recently rummaged around in my cupboard (whilst trying to clean up) and extracted a dusty book of his on 'How to Use Your Memory' which I know I've had for ages. And I started to read it, and have finally succeeded going further than Chapter 1.

And I am amazed. I have mastered the 'Peg System' memory technique - you give me a list of twenty things and I can commit it to memory after just one round of reading through it. There are many other methods of course but am trying to balance my reading and studying at the same time. Then I got really excited and bought Tony Buzan's Mind Map guide.

I have been majorly enlightened. The human mind is really quite amazing. The trick is imagination. Your memory catches on things you find funny, interesting, fantastic and imaginative. So, I suppose I have to tap on that.

'Imagination is more important than knowledge.' ~ Einstein

Just yesterday, my family went out for dinner and then when we were driving to the airport to meet Kak Naz, Abah started singing in the car. Then we all started singing with him. Then we started to reminisce and sing really, really old songs. As in songs from childhood; tunes I thought had been completely obliterated from memory. Old nasyids, mostly... It was funny how sis, bro and me would look at each other and start singing these really old tunes almost simultaneously.

It shows that memories don't fade. They're there in your brain. The skill is retrieving the information when you need it. That's what I'm trying to learn...

~

"It's as though I've found a string. Something reachable... at my fingertips. Something... touchable. Fantasies all the same... but the clarity of it all being possible."

Is it? Or am I just deluded.

Finally, I've decided. On 3 places. But still not quite done with all the 6 choices for ucas. Shall start writing my personal statement soon. Lucky have that draft for Ms Lo already...

Revision going ever so slowly. I wish I was one of those aliens in the show Roswell, you know? Need only 3 hours of sleep each day...

And oh darn, I should just seriously learn to keep my mouth shut and not be so blur and gullible.

Have started reading Tony Buzan's books and I tell you, I think the effects are amazing. I am on my way to improve my memory and eradicate my blurness! (I hope.)

Okay, I had a bad weekend, worse off than usual. I watched too much tv despite impending exams. So much for saying that all I need is to shut myself up in my room and study. My family is just a distracting lot. And sharing a room with a sister only encourages one to talk and joke constantly. And have been screaming a lot at brother too (because he kicks his adidas ball in my room and it barely misses my laptop screen), which relieves stress. I realise he's the only person I can scream to! Because he rarely takes offence and responses by laughing and being stubborn (which elicits more screams from me, but all in the name of stress relief). Can't scream at parents because if I do I deserve to go to hell, and I can't scream at sister because... then we fight. And I get really angry inside and hateful and I hate the feeling. And I realise he's the only person I can hit with all my might too (no fear of retaliation)! So good to have a little brother for a punching bag.

Watched Runaway Jury tonight and enjoyed it. The potential for a new obsession. But shall push that to the far corners of my mind till after As.

A Lymond post. Brotherly love is so sweet. ~melts~

There was a handkerchief rolled tightly in Lymond's lefthand, which he had used to stifle the coughing. With a brusque movement, his brother pulled it away and wordlessly flattened it between his brown, capable fingers. In streaks and patches, the linen was stiff with fresh blood. `Dear God, Francis,' said Richard Crawford, his voice suddenly stifled by the agony in his throat. '-Dear God, dear God, what do you want of me? Must I choose between my own child and you?' The silence stretched on. After the first momentof shock, Lymond's face was unreadable. But his voice when he spoke was deliberate and undramatic. 'I have promised to ride in the Mardi Gras procession two weeks from now. On the following day, I shall go home. Will that do?'

~ Queen's Play Page 212