<body><script type="text/javascript"> function setAttributeOnload(object, attribute, val) { if(window.addEventListener) { window.addEventListener('load', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }, false); } else { window.attachEvent('onload', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }); } } </script> <div id="navbar-iframe-container"></div> <script type="text/javascript" src="https://apis.google.com/js/plusone.js"></script> <script type="text/javascript"> gapi.load("gapi.iframes:gapi.iframes.style.bubble", function() { if (gapi.iframes && gapi.iframes.getContext) { gapi.iframes.getContext().openChild({ url: 'https://www.blogger.com/navbar.g?targetBlogID\x3d6429848\x26blogName\x3danjalispeaks*\x26publishMode\x3dPUBLISH_MODE_BLOGSPOT\x26navbarType\x3dSILVER\x26layoutType\x3dCLASSIC\x26searchRoot\x3dhttp://anjalispeaks.blogspot.com/search\x26blogLocale\x3den_GB\x26v\x3d2\x26homepageUrl\x3dhttp://anjalispeaks.blogspot.com/\x26vt\x3d-3731369604885291184', where: document.getElementById("navbar-iframe-container"), id: "navbar-iframe" }); } }); </script>
"Is it weird in here or is it just me?" Woody Allen



HOWDY! This is a platform for me to express myself. To bare my thoughts, emotions and life stories. Leaving bite-size pieces of me before I go. I graciously invite you to comment, swap stories and thoughts. Please post your comment or get in touch with me here.


OTHER HERMITS
ON THE BLOG.

alexandra wong
allyson
bawangmerah
consuela
dreams&sugars
jemima
lex
loopymeals
lynn wabbit
mooi
mrd
nawooz
peteteo
postsecret
scentofgreenbananas
simontalks
snippetsoflife
suyin
tequilamockingbird
thewritetherapy
uncletim
visithra
yvy


ARCHIVES.
09.03 10.03 01.04 02.04 03.04 04.04 05.04 06.04 07.04 08.04 09.04 10.04 11.04 12.04 01.05 02.05 03.05 04.05 05.05 06.05 07.05 08.05 09.05 10.05 11.05 12.05 01.06 02.06 03.06 04.06 05.06 06.06 07.06 08.06 09.06 10.06 11.06 12.06 01.07 02.07 03.07 04.07 05.07 06.07 07.07 08.07 09.07 10.07 11.07 02.08 03.08 05.08 09.08 10.08 12.08 02.09 04.09 05.09 06.09 07.09


FAVOURITES.
a rustic analysis*
bo leh*
buat donno*
jakun & boon cit - a love story. not.*
jingling nona*
many happy returns of the day, u sexy u*
love misunderstood*
no willy*
perfect man*
save me from this misery*
tan ah yam, i'm sorry*


INTERVIEWS & REVIEWS.
an interview with joe blogs*
woo! a review!*


TRAVELOGUES.
halong bay - you jump, i save you*
hanoi on my mind*
hanoi - in search of the pain-in-the-arse ice cream and other stories in between*
sungai petani, my hometown* [pt 1]
leave my country* [pt 1]
leave my country* [pt 2]
ozcapade* [pt 1]
ozcapade* [pt 2]
ozcapade* [pt 3a]
ozcapade* [pt 3b]
moomoo vista* [pt 1]
moomoo vista* [pt 2]
moomoo vista* [pt 3]
ah moy in paris* [pt 1]


CREDITS.
Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 2.5 License.

powered by: blogger
illustration by: lionheart.bizhat.com
photo storage by: photobucket
commenting by: haloscan
linked with: blogwise , blogarama , registered! , bolehblogs , voi ,project petaling street , blog explosion & bloggernity



buat donno* 

Sometimes I feel I am my worst enemy. I know my actions at times reign high on the 'Stupendous Ridiculous - You Have To See It To Believe It' totem pole, but I ended up doing it anyway.

The latest act just happened recently.

See, there is this guy, Jess, whom I am so, so crazy about.

How crazy?

Crazy to think of him every day and night.
Crazy to dream of him.
Crazy to dream of him and me.
Crazy to pray for him.
Crazy to pray for him and me.
Crazy to wanting to believe he's my soul mate.
Crazy wondering what he is doing, while I'm thinking of him.
Crazy to lose appetite over him.
Crazy to tell close girlfriends about him.
Crazy to look beyond his many physical flaws.

So the story continues...

It came to my attention that Jess was going to be in this certain function, which I will be attending too. I suffered from massive diarrhoea, simply from the excitement to meeting him again. This went on for more than a week. My stomach was like middle-earth wars between colonies of butterflies!

Besides that, my head was making countless checklists...
What should I wear?
How to style my hair?
Which lip colour would bring out my best pout in the yellow lights?
How to smile? I practiced my most beautiful smile, in case he remembers me and comes over to chat.
Which is the best "Hello"? Or should I just say "Hi!" just to be friendlier.
I envisioned our conversation and planned my answers. What to say and how to say them.

My migraine was soaring high.

And the actual night came.

The butterflies were heating up more than ever. I entered the room, with hand on heart, all ready to catch it in case it decides to catapult from too much excitement. My eyes surfed the room. Target located - I saw him. He was sitting at a front table with a couple of friends. And I believe, for a fraction of a second, I caught his eye...Oh God, what now??? I managed a shy smile and an acknowledging nod.

He smiled and waved a friendly hello. He got up from his chair and walked towards me.

"Hey, good to see you! I was hoping you would come."

"Really?"

"Yeah. We didn't get the chance to talk the last time. I've been thinking of you. And I was hoping I could get to know you better tonight. If you don't mind sharing."

Of course I don't mind sharing, silly. What's mine is all yours to take...
"Err...okay. Conversations are good."

"Great".
"It's a bit noisy here. Why don't we move to that corner? It's quieter."

"That'll be nice. Good idea." (The tone came out right - very poised, with a right touch of encouragement, perfectly masking the adrenaline and horniness rushing in my bloodstream. In another word, I didn't squeak. And that's good. Very good.)

Jess got me a drink. He held my right hand and chaperons me to the quiet corner. We spoke and laughed, for hours. We share the same sarcastic sense of humour - and that's rare. And what's really funny is at times; neither of us has to finish the sentence to burst in unison laughter, totally knowing what's coming next. There were interruptions, in between, and I welcomed them. My heart needed time-out, before the mad thumping begins, for another round.

He was exactly the person I envisioned him to be. Intelligent. Witty. Funny. Confident, yet humble. Warm. Affectionate. Very real.

Dawn breaks. I told him I had to go. I have a 9.30 am meeting, so I need to go home and freshen up. Maybe need to have multi cups of Nescafe Kaww.

"Can I see you again? Can I call you sometime?"

"I'd really liked that." I said, followed by my well-practiced smile.

We exchanged numbers. He walked me to my car. As we said our goodbyes, he leaned over, gave me a warm hug and then a peck on the cheek. (I'd never wash that cheek again!)

"I really had a great time."

"Me too. Bye. Rest well and take care."

"You take care too, y'hear. I'll call you."

Yay! I've made the connection. We've done the communicado! He has my number. And I have his! He wanted to call me again! He enjoyed talking to me. He asked me to take care!

Whoa...Down, girl!

Pant. Pant. Pant. Pant. Pant. Pant. Pant.

Well, I'd be one happy girl if all those ever took place. In real life, ya. But sadly, all those happened only in my head. In my dreams.

Here's what really happened, in my black and white world. Let's rewind and get back in the plot.

And I believe, for a fraction of a second, I caught his eye...I froze and automatically put up my invisible shield and shifted to my "Buat Donno" gear. I auto cruised on that gear the whole night. Jess walked around and passed me by many times. And every single time when I saw him coming near, I just turned away and pretended to be busily engrossed in my conversation with a girlfriend, to even notice he existed.

I tried to shift to the "Be nice and friendly and approachable" mode, but I couldn't.

The night was a disaster. I ignored him totally, the whole entire night.

When the function ended, I walked myself to my car, feeling totally disgusted. Even the butterflies abandoned me and picked a new war zone.

Not even an meek exchange of "Hi".
Why? Why was I being so silly? All the preparations for nothing!!!

I had specifically, successfully ignored the one person who mattered the most. I had totally blew it! Communicado, my foot!

I have no explanation to my action.

Mark of "Love, Actually" called it self-preservation. I think it's just plain stupidity.

Yeah.

Just plain Stupid me.

January 17, 2004 // anjali* pranced on tip-toes all over the keyboard at 2:04 am
|





perfect man* 

Is there such a thing as a 'perfect man'?

What defines a 'perfect man'?

What defines my 'perfect man'?

Let me count the ways.

He must be God-fearing.
He knows who he is in the Lord.
Genuinely loves me. All of me.
Hates my mistakes & sometimes sinful nature, but loves me wholeheartedly, nonetheless.
Slow to anger, quick to encourage.
Motivates me to be a better person, always.
A true friend.
Faithful.
He must be confident. But not arrogant.
Humble. But not a doormat.
Sees the good in others.
Brings out the good in others.
Generous.
Patient.
Trustworthy.
A gentleman.
My tower of strength when I am down.
My greatest joy at my happiest times.
Treats me the way a woman should be treated.
Perfect. Faultless.

I hear you laugh. Snort even.
What are my chances of meeting this 'perfect man', you mock? Not very high.

But guess what? I found him!

His name is Jesus.
Wonderful, beautiful Jesus.

And because He is the perfect man, I cannot call Him my own.
I cannot keep him to myself.

So my search continues...

I know there's someone out there for me.
No, not perfect. Just right.

January 06, 2004 // anjali* pranced on tip-toes all over the keyboard at 1:16 am
|





resolutions* 

Okay, am four days late on this resolution bollocks. Well, it's better late than never, or so they say. I will dispense my list now, though some of them do not fall into the actual categorization of 'resolution' but hey, it's my list. So my sovereign rule rules. Hah!

Here goes:

1. Stop thinking about Jess.
2. Stop thinking about Jess. (See, this is so, so difficult!)
3. Read at least one book a month.
4. Finish the Bible.
5. Do not be reckless with other people's heart.
6. Don't put up with people who are reckless with mine.
7. Continue to have Jesus as my best friend.
8. Do not be reckless with Jesus' heart.
9. Share His love and friendship with others.
10. Achieve 98% attendance for the Bible Study classes.
11. Know the Word better.
12. Find true love. Jess?
13. Stop dreaming about Jess.
14. Write to Gary Dourdan and ask, "You want to CSI me, ah?" Hee.
15. Collect all of Nick Hornby's books.
16. And read all of Elizabeth Berg's books.
17. Climb Mt. Kinabalu again. Only this time, must reach the summit.
18. Live like Morrie. Not just on Tuesdays, but everyday.
19. Stop being a hermit.
20. Be good.

So there.

I think they are all achievable. And I will achieve them all.
Let me come back to this list on 31st December and let you know how well I've done.

Oh, I forgot. I really must stop thinking about Jess.

Maybe not : )

January 04, 2004 // anjali* pranced on tip-toes all over the keyboard at 10:45 pm
|





books* 

I just want to put it into record that I have finished 2 books in the past 2 weeks.



1. Until The Real Thing Comes Along - Elizabeth Berg
2. How To Be Good - Nick Hornby.

Would I recommend them? Yes.

Why? Read it and you'll know.

Wow Wow.

January 03, 2004 // anjali* pranced on tip-toes all over the keyboard at 9:10 pm
|





prayer* 

"One of our biggest misconceptions about prayers is that it's difficult" John Tesh

Honest to goodness, one of the biggest mental hurdles in my Christian walk is praying. I do not like to pray in public. Neither do I like to participate in a marathon prayer mantra. Neither do I like to pray aloud.

I have many uncertainties about praying.

Is there a right way to pray? Is there a certain unspoken etiquette on prayer? Do you stand? Sit? Kneel down? Squat?
Or can I do all of the above?

Should I use bombastic words? Or tongue twisters, perhaps? Show off my broad vocabulary? Should I whisper? Should I be thunderously loud? Or should I be mid-tone? Can I not utter one word, but instead let my heart do all the talking? Can prayer be silent?

These are my feelings and thought about prayers.

1. Get to the point
I am basically your straight-to-the-point type of praying person. Hey, I believe that beside myself, God also has trillions billions of other desperate souls to listen to. I don't think His SOS signal ever stops blinking. Unlike Batman's. So stop beating around the bush and get to the point. The Bollywood prancing-around-coconut-trees-act-with-10-clothes-changes is not welcomed here. Save it for the next blockbuster.

2. It's not a public address.
It should be a personal conversation with God. Face to face. Heart to heart. All you have to do is talk. Tell Him how you feel. Tell Him your deepest secret. Tell Him your latest crush. Tell Him your fears. Your anger. Your frustrations. Your joy. Your stupid antics. Anything you can think of, God's just waiting to listen.

Yeah, He knows most of the things already, but what the heck - tell Him anyway. And after much talking, if you care to keep a sensitive ear and care to maybe shut up for a tad longer, sometimes God talks back. And that's an invaluable experience - yeah, to be able to converse with God. Powerful. Sometimes He can be quite sarcastic. With a mean streak of dark humor thrown in at times. I know I've had my share.

But He's always good. That's why He is God.

3. Anywhere is a good place to pray.
After all, God is supposed to be everywhere. So why limit the places for praying. Make sense? Darn right.

At work, my best prayer area has always been the corner toilet cubicle. I feel safe doing my prayers there, especially when the tension and emotions run high. The presence of his love, warmth and peace felt the strongest in that cubicle.

At home, I have a single leather sofa for Jesus, next to my bed. That's my main conversational area with Him. Very comforting.

4. Be careful what you pray for.
Sometimes He gives you more that what you ask for. So be vigilant.


So, when you have time on your hands, pray.

He always listens.

January 02, 2004 // anjali* pranced on tip-toes all over the keyboard at 3:15 pm
|