Iman is here.

please come again.

2011-07-27T11:58:00.000-04:00

I've done the unspeakable. I started a wordpress blog account.

I've been wanting to do it for a while now. I definitely toyed around with the idea last summer, but just never got around to it. And I didn't like their blog themes..

But I was blog surfing the other day, and I noticed a lot of jschool seniors post up their work online and use wordpress accounts as portfolios because it's a more professional layout, I thought it was about time I did them same.

But don't worry! I have not and will not abandon this cozy little blogspot space. I will still post pretty regularly (when do I ever post regularly?!) at http://www.imanots.blogspot.com/ but my new wordpress site will feature more of my journalism work (radio clips, reporting pieces, journalism antics) and it'll just be more of a "mature feel".

I'm growing up and I feel so pretentious.

So feel free to stay and read here, but do drop by for a visit at http://www.imanwriteshere.wordpress.com/

I'm funny regardless of what blog site I use.

PS: Curse the idiot who took http://www.imanazman.wordpress.com/ It isn't even a real blog! I was annoyed.

-30-

does anyone want some grapes?

2011-07-26T17:55:00.003-04:00

Many of my friends know how stressful my summer job can be at times. This is because I tell them horror stories any chance I get about getting yelled at, writing complicated page long emails, having people cry at the other end of the line or looking for something that is simply not there.

I cannot possibly explain to you the pain of trying to console someone who is in hysterics over the phone because the course that they want to register for is not being offered this year. Neither can I express the frustration I have towards parents who simply do not understand that I cannot release information about their child to them without the student's permission. I really detest students who were denied registration requests and call me expecting that I have some special powers that will get them into closed courses. I vent the frustration out on my keyboard or a bag of tangerines (on occasion, significant others get to experience my pent up wrath).

There are times when I wake up in the morning and feel like calling in sick (never have! So far..) and just doing without the angry parents, nervous students, conflicted schedules and incoherent international calls for one day. Sometimes I just wish that the people of Carleton would call upon some other being to magically solve all their problems, transfer them to the right department or reset their PIN numbers for them.

It just gets too much for me sometimes. Screaming phone call after screaming phone call, it just gets a girl down y'know?

Yes yes, but there are those bright moments where a terribly grateful mother is on the line because you've just explained how Education funds work or sometimes you can get a caller who is so thankful that you've helped them put through a Special Student Application that they scream out 'thank yous' till they're breathless.

It's human nature to always focus on the crap that life throws your way instead of the row of lovely rainbows lining your path.

Today started off on a pretty sore foot. I had to reply to a complicated email, answer unruly calls from a few rude people and was nervous for a test that I had to take.

But then I had a streak of really great callers on the line who all asked me how my day was going, said thank you before hanging up and told me I was a "star" (fact).

I helped a mom work through one of our many processes and before she hung up she said, "You have been tremendous, so patient and polite. Thank you so much." I don't get many calls like that so I told her that she just made my day, and she laughed and said that I made hers.

I hung up the phone feeling super positive and thought "there really are good people in this world".

Sure, that sounds quite pessimistic, because OF COURSE there are wonderful people in this world. But once you work on a registration job for a university, you start disbelieving in humanity a little bit (I kid, a little).

Bottom line is, I realize that people are going to throw a shit ton of problems your way, expect you to solve them and they are not going to say thank you when you figure them out. But I always have the power to be patient, polite, do what I can and try my best to make their day. I always have the choice to be the better person and decide to accept that my job does have its downsides (sure it sucks), but it has a lots of upsides too.

Hey, at least I have summer job.

-30-

ice is nice.

2011-07-21T21:55:00.002-04:00

Hottawa. The glorious inferno that is now my beautiful city has me sweating at the seams.

We are experiencing a crazy heat wave in Ontario. Coupled with the fires that have been going on, I am definitely feeling heat (please pardon the silly puns, I can't help it) and I am forced to find creative ways to keep cool. As I type this out on the third floor of my apartment building (heat rises..), I have two super turbo fans aimed at me with the lights off and bottled ice water at my feet.

No, I am not trying to conserve electricity by going without light. Having the lights on adds to the heat, so I'd much rather type in the dark than suffer another ounce of increased Celsius.

My bottled ice water has melted, but you must trust that it is not the only thing that has melted over the past couple of days.

Wednesdays at work are 'Snack Attack' days. One person brings in a snack for everyone to share, and it usually adds to the merriment and happy tummys that we enjoy at work.

It just so happened that my snack attack turn fell on the region's highest Humidex week since 1953 (fact). I had already promised to bring in my Chocolate Chip Oreo cookies so when I was buying ingredients after work on Tuesday, I silently cursed the amazing cookies in my head because I didn't want to get within three feet of my oven, much less turn it on.

But a promise is a promise, and I could not let my fellow phone comrades down!

I started baking at nine last night, I figured if the sun left the heat would too. Never assume anything in the summer. I had taken out the butter so it would soften and make it easier to mix.

I did not expect it to grease down like water, but then again it needed to melted and mixed, so that evaporation was welcomed. The others were not.

Then the chocolate chips began dissolving in the batter when I mixed them in and I was very upset because it was turning my beautiful vanilla batter into an odd shade of chocolate-brown instead of just dotting it delicately. My chocolate chip cookie batter became chocolate poo. But no matter, I would carry on and make chocolate poo delicious (I mean that in the best way).

The last step was to "wrap" the Oreos in the chocolate (chip) batter. A relatively easy step which I've done many times before, no sweat, if your Oreos don't melt.

Have you ever heard of melted Oreos? I haven't, till last night when one nearly dissolved in my hands. I had to chuck them in the fridge for fifteen minutes before I'd wrap a batch because they were falling apart. The little cookie sandwich had its white creamy centre dripping out of the core, I am not exaggerating. My first batch of cookies were speckled with little white flecks (sort of like snowflakes..oh snow..) but the other two batches turned out much better.

Complaints and grumbles aside, the cookies turned out well and I had 17 happy friends at work today, till the phones started ringing and the people started walking in (kidding).

I have baked in the heat before, but not 46C. I know I shouldn't be complaining about the weather, I'm from South East Asia (represent!), we revel in the fact that sweating after climbing stairs is a normalcy in our country, but I have become accustomed to the beauty of bitter cold evenings, I like the cold.

It's easier to bake cookies in the cold.

PS: No photos for this post. My camera refused to take pictures of chocolate poo.

-30-

None.

2011-05-29T11:44:00.000-04:00

Because some beautiful days don't need words.

rainbow lemon dough mountains

2011-05-27T15:16:00.006-04:00

Surfing cooking/baking websites has since become a huge past time of mine. Well I suppose when you sit in an office and you get to "work" when the phone actually rings, there's a lot of time to decide what you're going to make for supper. Hilary's blog is always my first stop because she has a great set of links where I usually janut off and explore. I feel that just by reading about other people's cooking and baking experiences, mine automatically improves, sadly this is not true.

My recent favourite blog is Picky Palate. I think she is phenomenal and has the best kitchen countertops. So when my amazing friend Katie invited me over to bake something with her, my heart immediately called for these colorful cupcakes. I had already made something from Picky Palate's blog, chocolate chip covered oreo cookies, and I love how simple her recipes are. They make kitchen noobs like me feel not so worthless.

I was really anxious while we were making them because I am always wary about pretty looking food because my logic is that if something looks good, it's rare that it tastes good too. Well my logic shot out the window when I had a bite of these rainbow babies.

I've always been boggled on how people made rainbow colored cupcakes. How is it that the colours don't mix and result to goopy brown mush?! My wonderings were answered when I saw how thick the batter was and how instead of colliding with each other, the colours nicely settled together in the cupcake lining.

I had a ball of a time mixing those five coloured batters together. I must admit that Katie and I went a bit overboard and put a little too much batter for each cupcake and we ended up with gargantuan palm sized mountains of lemony dough goodness.

We did alter the recipe slightly though. Picky Palate's recipe called for vanilla cake mix and instant vanilla pudding mix. We decided to go a little crazy and follow the rainbow theme by picking out rainbow cake mix and after discussing intensively in the pudding aisle, we decided that the regular pudding in the cartons were what we needed. We were wrong. Thank god Kate's mom, saved the day by pulling out instant lemon pudding mix (it's powder-ish) out of her baking drawer and we were set! The cupcakes had a little lemon twang to them, but they were yummy all the same.

We wanted to frost them with vanilla icing but decided to not completely cover the gorgeous colours of the cupcake, so a disastrous first attempt (I frosted a cupcake five minutes after it came out of the oven, so the frosting melted. Always let your baked goods cool!) we finally got the hang of these amazing icing nozzles which we used to decorate/draw on the cupcakes.

We ended up making swirls, heart shapes (for special people), stars, initials, little stick men and dots on our cupcakes, they were honestly a work of art.

I had such an amazing morning baking these with Kate, she's more lovely than the cupcakes. It was a great start to a great day, and I had a few of these delicious cupcakes to munch on all weekend!

PS: I am now so hungry and upset that I do not have these cupcakes anymore.

cap this capital.

2011-05-23T10:41:00.004-04:00

Not many non-Canadians know that Ottawa is actually Canada's capital city. They are all led to believe that Toronto is this nation's capital because they are deceived by the glitz, glamour, shiny theater lights and never-ending shopping avenues that Toronto lures tourists in by. You will not believe the many "arguments" I've had with non-Canadians about how Ottawa is the capital. You'd think because I live here I'd know better than some Asian half way across the world. I digress.

A few weeks ago I was the eager tourist lured in by Toronto's glitz, glamour, Billy Elliot theater lights and the never-ending sale racks at Urban Outfitters. I took a weekend trip down to Toronto and had a great time. I am always fascinated at how busy everything is and how almost every other person looks like they jumped out of a fashion magazine. I am so intrigued by the subway and how fast and long those trains are. The halal burger cart that is open till 3AM also takes my breath away.

I've done a few of the touristy things that one must complete whilst in one of the world's most talked about metropolitan cities. I've seen the CN Tower from a distance, I've walked up and down Yonge and Dundas street's most busiest spots, taken a photo by the huge Forever 21 sign and given money to a busker.

My trip to Toronto this time around involved a day trip to Canada's Wonderland (which was well spent in the rain. Bonus: no queue up for rides!) and a lazy Sunday milling about Eaton Centre and its bordering streets, in the rain. Apparently it was not a good time to go away for the weekend but I really enjoyed it. At times I felt as if I was the star in one of Taylor Swift's romantic rain songs (Come In With the Rain, If This Was a Movie, etc).

The afternoon ended up being spent sitting in a tea store for a solid two hours to seek shelter as the persistent rain pattered down. I was suffering a cold by then because of all the good wet lovin' from the weather so I nursed it with a pot of honey chrysanthemum tea. I've never had tea with actual flowers in it before so I was quite intrigued. The tea shop we sat in (appropriately named the 'Tea Shop') had a huge selection teas; hot, cold, bubble, fruity, herbs, anything you can think of.

After the tea shop refuge it was time we headed home to Ottawa and as we picked our bags up for the hotel and made the wet/painful two block trek to the Greyhound station, I thought about how fun the weekend was and how I secretly loved the exciting bustle of Toronto but preferred lovely calm Ottawa all the more.

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you need to hear me out.

2011-05-22T14:32:00.004-04:00

I've been doing a couple of interesting things since getting back to Ottawa. Last week my friends took me to a dessert cafe for some waffles and ice cream. I am the type of girl who jumps up in a fury at the mere mention of gelato-goodness so off I went to this new dessert bar.

La Bocca Juice is a muslim family run cafe that serve the most beautiful crepes and waffles I have ever seen. Once you walk in, there are huge palm trees and an albeit funny looking banana hanging from the ceiling, but I was so distracted by the rows and rows of fruits that they had on display I hardly noticed the banana till 20 minutes after arriving. I am a fruit junkie, sometimes I can go for a week on nothing but apples (apparently this is unhealthy..) so I was expectedly taken aback by my choices of dessert.

The cafe makes their own ice cream and italian gelato. Honestly, what is better than gelato?! Homemade gelato!

Watermelon gelato is my supreme favourite flavour and I just about died when I had a taste of their homemade goodness. You could actually taste the beautiful tangy sweetness of the watermelon, so I had them put a huge dollop of it on my waffles. I am not the biggest fan of lemon-ny and lime flavours, but when I had a taste of their lime gelato I must admit that I really liked it and had many spoonfuls.

Their speciality are crepes and waffles. The desserts are a perfect combination of fruit, ice cream/gelato, syrup and a delicious waffle/crepe base completes it. They have pretty much perfected it to complete science. I had such a hard time deciding what to get so I just closed my eyes and went for it. Their juices are pretty popular too, but I didn't get one.

We were there on a Thursday evening and there were tons of people there. You could sit inside at the booths or outside on the patio while you enjoy your dessert. I think a lot of families dropped by after supper for their cone of ice cream so it was pretty cute to see little kids smack their noses up on the glass while deciding what flavour they'd like.

Since it's a gorgeous long weekend, I might just head over to La Bocca again today for a cup of watermelon gelato. What I also love about the cafe is that it neighbours a halal supermarket which has everything an oriental kitchen needs! They have some steaks that I'm craving for so I might just pop over in a bit. Hope you're having a great weekend.

UPDATE: I went to La Bocca and got a bubblegum-chocolate vanilla caramel-watermelon banana split. Loved the combination but not too crazy about the bubblegum gelato. But I found two little pieces of bubblegum in the mix so it made the world well again. I'm having steaks for lunch today too, like a boss.

-30-

a shade of lazy.

2011-05-20T14:59:00.001-04:00

I've been back in Ottawa for almost two weeks since a splendid return home to Kuala Lumpur. I was in KL for three long weeks (my mom begs to differ- apparently the weeks just whoozed by for her) and had such a great time meeting up with friends, hanging out with my family and stuffing my face with delicious food. You never realized how much you miss home till you return with two huge suitcases of dirty laundry and shoes that need to see a cobbler.

I didn't take as many photos this year like I did last year, probably because I was too busy sleeping in and watching ridiculous amounts of E! shows. I took it easy this year, and it was a well needed rest.

I'm now back in good ol' Ottawa and working the summer away. There are so many exciting things to do in Ottawa during the summer months and my calendar is full of garage sales, picnics, baking parties and outdoor movie nights. I am super stoked for the rain to end and for the summer to 'officially' begin. Wherever you are in the world, I hope you're doing well and I beg you to be patient with me as I slowly get back in my blogging groove.

I'm a good writer, I swear.

-30-

I bake when I'm stressed out.

2011-04-04T23:51:00.003-04:00

Let us please ignore the fact that I should be studying for my four finals that I have to sit for within the span of five days beginning Friday. Let us instead focus on the many sentences swirling around in my head which I would like to share with you.

A few months ago I was part of CBC's event called 'CBC Live!' It was a one day event where the public and viewers could meet their favorite CBC stars and hosts. I was excited out of my skin because not only do I one day want to walk the halls of this news corporation with a shiny tag that has my name and photo on it, I was overwhelmed by the fact that I was going to meet radio hosts and news anchors! I did so many tasks that day; hung up banners, tagged people in line, run around and offered buttons, gave directions to the bathrooms and a millon other things. I loved every second of it.

Not only did I get to meet all my favorite news personalities (Katheleen Petty is wonderful!), I left Rideau with a lot of free CBC giveaways. I managed to snag a laptop bag, a gajillion buttons, a t-shirt and a banner. Even though I would've helped out at the event even without the promise of a single penny, I was really grateful for the cheque that came in the mail a few days ago.

Alice and I went to Rideau last week and though I was tempted by the amazing clothes at Urban Outfitters and Aritzia, I resisted. I went against Alice's logic of "You're not paying for anything! It's all on CBC!" I walked away with the cheque intact.

I went to Wal-Mart over the weekend with the sole purpose of getting ingredients to bake chocolate chip oreo cookies that I saw on Hilary's blog. You may notice that I seem to have been bitten by a baking bug, and I think it's more of a baking disease. I dream about cookies and frosting, it is quite unhealthy.

When I saw those cookies, I simply knew I HAD to make them. After I had all the ingredients in my cart (plus two pepperoni pizzas and air freshener) I went to the kitchen electronics aisle and browsed for hand mixers. I've always wanted a hand mixer because after stirring cake mix by hand for 14 times I have come to the conclusion that I do not have wrist muscles.

I walked out of Wal-Mart a proud owner of a hand mixer, six minutes of deciding between the four different kinds they had.

I started baking cookies when I got home and halfway through the process I discovered every wannabe baker's nightmare: I did not have a bowl big enough for all my ingredients.

Long story short, I had to make do with my tiny IKEA bowl and use the hand mixer with the bowl in the sink so that I would not spray butter and sugar all over my counter top, it was the most excruciating experience ever and I almost cried.

But I got over it, the cookies were baked and once I took them out of the oven I discovered mistake number two: I put too much cookie dough over the oreo. It resulted to giant-like cookies and though they were good, I was not satisfied.

On my way home today I went to the grocery store and bought myself the biggest mixing bowl they had. It's pretty big.

(Notice the CBC banner on my wall. Obsessed much)

So I tried baking the cookies again tonight. And I won the cookie battle.

They came out perfect, and though the recipe said it would make 24 cookies, I ended up with 32 chocolate covered oreo cookies and even had enough leftover cookie dough for 14 plain chocolate chip cookies. It was a successful second attempt.

I recommend this recipe to anyone who has time to kill and needs to pound out frustrations on dough.

Back to the books. At least I have cookies, what do you have?

Click here for the original recipe from Picky Palate.

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Hip.

2011-03-30T23:21:00.001-04:00

Reason #481 Why the Whole World Should Have An iPhone: Hipstamatic.

Unless you have not picked it up, I am very pro-Apple. I never have anything bad to say about my Mac or phone. And since I downloaded the Hipstamatic app, I've been completely obsessed with taking random photos. The app makes a crappy photo look amazing, that's why I use it for self portraits.

I now feel very artsy and accomplished.

-30-

beyond the screen.

2011-03-25T16:14:00.002-04:00

The world's a funny place. You see it, hear it, love it, talk to it and are a part of it, yet you will never understand how it truly works.

It's Friday. I just got back from campus and I'm sitting on my bed with my computer propped up on my lap. As CBC's video player loads up on the screen, I take a sip from my bottle of juice and take off my socks. It's usually what I do on Fridays, I'll not watch The National all week, but instead cram an entire week's worth of news into one day.

The player loads and after watching two minutes of the 'surprising' non-confidence vote drama on Parliament Hill, I switch over and feast my eyes on Peter Mansbridge instead. They play clips from stories that are currently happening; Libya, the tsunami and fears of radiation in Japan, the death of the fire fighters in Southern Ontario and the campaign business.

And then Yemen comes on the screen.

There are reports of unrest and protests in Yemen. It's not only the capital, Sana'a but in all the other governaretes too. The protestors are upset, disappointed and angry about the 20 year rule of President Ali Abdullah Saleh. There are photos, videos and reports that show the Yemenis as hordes of angry crowds that yell and look dirty amongst all the dust.

They're portrayed as a yet another Middle Eastern country that is calling for the fall of their leader. There are images of men protesting in the street, yelling for change and while the rest of the world simply sits back, sympathize and pretend like they understand what is going on and says statements like "the situation is unacceptable." I honestly wonder how much the world knows about middle easterners and the lives they lead in their countries.

Why do I care and how do I know?

I lived in Yemen for almost three months, so I care. I care very much.

I see a different Sana'a than the one they stream online or broadcast on TV. I cannot speak to the situation that is happening right now, but I can say that the people I met and the Yemen that I experienced is very different compared to the one that people are led to see on their screens.

Living in the heat of the western universe, we're always shown all the images and clips, and made to believe that the men dressed in long brown tunics with beards and turbans on their heads are always "going against the man." But believe me or not, these men are some of the most respectful and hospitable people I have ever met.

When I saw videos of people dying, and blood on mud baked walls, I think about the lovely old man outside the Arabic school I learned at who used to give me extra salt on my french fries. I think about the little boys who used to play outside our house and I wonder if they are within the masses of people who are protesting on the streets. When I hear protestors screaming "Allahuakbar" through my earphones, I think about the gorgeous Quranic recitations that used to float out of mosques and if they've used their voice for other purposes.

There are so many things I wish I could back and see in Yemen. I need to know that the people who opened their houses and lives to me and my friends four years ago are alive, well and safe. Yemenis love their country. They are patriotic people and I know that there must be an important enough reason that they are protesting against their government. They are peaceful people, at least the ones I met were.

It sad and heartbreaking to know that this beautiful country is being seen as violent and harsh by the rest of the world.

There are gorgeous mountains, breathtaking valleys and welcoming people in Yemen, I only wish that the rest of the world would be able to understand its beauty even in the worst circumstances.

The world is a funny place, I've seen it, heard it, talked to it and loved a lot of it, yet I still don't know how it works.

But I know how Yemen works, and it's not what you see on your television screen.

-30-

how many more days?

2011-03-22T13:10:00.001-04:00

As I sit through and witness Mother Nature's horrible and hormonal pace of weather in Ottawa, all I can do is think about the beautiful sunshine and warm air of Kuala Lumpur. I know I haven't been giving much love to my Asian peninsula, but as this winter wonderment wears off each time I get slushed by cars, I crave the humidity that shrouds KL.

I am pretty much done with socks and boots, my toes just want to feel the sunshine, it that too much to ask? It's currently drizzling outside and when I went to get my laundry from the basement I couldn't help but rejoice at the melting pile of snow in the backyard.

There is no snow in Malaysia, something I never thought I'd be grateful for. I was colouring in my final exam dates onto my calendar sheets that stare down at me from my wall, and it seems like the winter semester has just flown by. I had ASB, four final papers, ridiculous amounts of articles and glorious weekends this semester. It's incredible to think that summer is just around the corner.

But before summer can come, finals exams must be endured. I have planned an intimate weekend with the library and my study cards have come out to play. It's almost embarrassing how disgusting I tend to look during the exam period. But it's alright, because no matter how I look, I know my parents would be more than willing to pick me up at the airport and take me home.

And just because I am feeling hungry, here's a photo of the chocolate muffins I made last weekend.

colonel sanders and rousseau.

2011-03-20T15:42:00.001-04:00

I am loaded up in pent up anger, discomfort and rage for this political science theory paper. I have four chocolate cupcakes in my system and a tub of distaste for Rousseau and his discourses. I am so mad, I despise school, it must stop. I don't even know what I'm supposed to be writing about. Something about Rousseau, pity and his thick book of discourses.

I am typing this out to let loose the typing frenzy that is about to occur.

I'm really hungry for some chicken right now, so I sent someone out to go get it for me. I've made a promise to not have a bite of chicken unless I have at least three pages written out. Food always gets me places.

I have 12 hours, I'll see you on the other side. With my chicken. And mashed potatoes.

-30-

multi-task.

2011-03-17T00:37:00.003-04:00

I am supposed to be editing articles for tomorrow's reporting newsroom. I'm an editor and instead of writing an article like I have been slowly trained to do, I now have to edit my classmates' work. To be completely honest, I do not find that very appealing. Maybe it's because I just looked through my returned copy edit assignment and found a huge blue 'C' on the top of it.

A little disheartening I think.

So I tired to make myself feel a little better by baking cupcakes. They're nothing like the ones Hilary makes, but I'd say for someone who used to burn water, I'm doing pretty well.

The cupcakes are chocolate and they will have vanilla frosting on them as soon as I edit the second article. They shall also have my signature rainbow sprinkles on the top, just so the cupcakes add a little colour into everyone's day :)

Results of my enthused stress levels.

Maybe I should just drop out of jschool and become a baker. But I don't think that would work either because I use cake mix, and I think that's cheating.

If I keep on baking each time I get stressed out by school, my friends and I are going to have some serious weight issues soon.

Well, onward to the next few weeks; two more newsrooms, two more essays and then it's exam season. Would it be horrible to admit that I would much rather stay in bed with a tub of yoghurt and watch smurf cartoons instead?

Thought so.

-30-

parental visitation.

2011-03-14T00:22:00.006-04:00

It has been a very hectic couple of weeks. I always wonder where the weekends go once I realize "Oh, it's Monday tomorrow, ugh." It seems like my Saturdays and Sundays are trying to dodge me, just like my sources. If I had to whine about anything, it would be how Reading Week just dashed off without even saying goodbye.

I started my week with a quick visit from my papa. Ottawa was the last stop on his business trip and I was lucky enough to spend time with my dad after almost a year of not seeing him. I picked him up from the airport early in the AM and pointed out the many little nooks and crannies of Ottawa. I think he got tired after my many exclamations of "Oh, that's where I walk to the bus" and "That's South Keys, that's where I get shampoo" and "Oh Oh! That's Carleton!"

We went on a day trip to Montreal on Tuesday. Having never been on a VIA train before I was a little too eager and woke up at 5AM to catch a 7AM train, you can't say I'm not enthusiastic. Montreal is amazing, I've only been there once before but going with my papa definitely spared my pocket a little, if you know what I mean.

We took a tour of McGill and I stared in awe of their 13 libraries. They have a museum with dinosaur bones, ancient tree stumps and mummies, I had the best time. I am a museum geek, don't pretend like you do not know this. After walking up and down the many hills of McGill, I practically jogged over to the malls.

This spontaneous act of exercise was soon intensified with my shopping bags. I must have gained at least two pounds of muscle that day. Sadly enough a layer of fat joined the muscle because we ate lunch at a Indian buffet, and I tear at the fact I have yet to find a buffet like that in Ottawa.

The thing that surprised me most about Montreal was how strange I felt being there. I knew that I was still in Canada, but for some odd reason it felt like I was in a totally different country. I even stupidly asked "do we have to change currencies? Are you sure they take Canadian dollars?" Yes, total ditzy blonde moment, but I'm allowed a few here and there.

Heading home on the train was a little sad because I hated saying goodbye to my papa and I didn't get to hit up Lulu Lemon in Montreal. It was so great to get to hang out with my papa, but I sucked it up and bravely went home after many hugs.

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two-one.

2011-03-13T14:39:00.002-04:00

It usually comes as a surprise to people when I tell them how old I really am. "You look like you're 16", "University? Really? At that height?". I know I may not be the most statuesque girl around, but I'd like to think that I'm pretty 'decent' since I'm Asian and all.

I had my 21st birthday go as quickly as it came.It was my second time getting older without having my sister by my side hogging the one card my mom gets us, so it was pretty stellar. I didn't do anything fancy or 'legal', just because having your birthday on a Monday leaves the rest of the week as a failed expectation.

Funnily enough I went to all my classes (fine, I missed one) that day and topped off the night with dinner with my best girl friends. We went to Royal Thai downtown and dressed up. Well they dressed up.

I was given gifts and many Facebook messages and I would just like to say that I am sorry for not replying all of them. But thank you so much, I read all of them! I was just overwhelmed by the constant beeping of my phone and hugs that I was getting that day. Perhaps the biggest thing about my 21st birthday was that I bitten by the baking bug.

Ever since Meagan and I baked a rainbow cake, I have been loading up my shelves with rainbow cake mix. I've gotten a little chef savvier and learned how to frost my cakes. No, I do not make frosting for scratch. I get them in the tins, don't judge me.

It was a great birthday, one of the best I've had in a while. Then again, I'm not much of the birthday-celebratory-types, so anything I did that day would've probably been 'the best' birthday 'ever'. Twenty-one is definitely a great age. I feel a little older (maybe not wiser), I can vote in Malaysia and it's legal for me to buy any sort of consumer item. Props.

-30-

oh Ottawa eh.

2011-02-02T01:04:00.001-05:00

Ottawa is probably not the most talked about Canadian city, but hey, we are still pretty spectacular. We have parliament, eight national museums, umbrella pizzas and the governor general. And we're the home of the Ottawa Senators.

Fine, perhaps nothing big to brag about. But we're still a great place to visit!

Last Friday I had the ultimate Ottawa evening. Meagan (my soul mate) took me to The Works on Bank Street for a semi-belated birthday dinner. For those unfamiliar to Ottawa's booming dinning scene, The Works is a burgermaniac's haven. They have basically reinvented the word 'burger' in my mind. No longer do I crave a Quarter Pounder from McDonalds, no longer am I satisfied with a French Chicken from Burger King, I want a Johnny be Goat burger from The Works!

How it works is that you choose your patty; ground beef or turkey, veggie, chicken breast or Portobello mushroom cap. Then from their menu of almost 50 toppings, you pick one to devour. The kind of toppings they have will drive you crazy. Meagan and I took almost 15 minutes trying to decide on what to get.

They have burgers that range from the Peace Train (brie, jack, swiss and cheddar. I'm talking about cheeses) to the San Francisco Treat (Kraft dinner).

I ended up going for the Three Ring Binder on a veggie patty. It had fried mushrooms, chipotle mayo, gouda cheese and three onion rings on it. A bowl of mash potatoes and a chocolate caramel milkshake completed my order. They brought our milkshakes in those huge measuring cups that my grandma used when she baked apple pies. You know, those liquid measuring cups, they are huge. Imagine a milkshake in one of those babies, I almost died.

Dinner was brilliant. I finished every single bite, Meagan was not as successful, but we'll let this one slide. We completed our night of Ottawan Canadiana with an after dinner skate on the canal.

The Rideau Canal that is.

For those not schooled in Canadian facts, the Rideau Canal is the world's longest skating rink. When it finally gets around to freezing over that is. Only 7.8 kilometers of the canal is open to skaters during the winter and even though Meagan and I only skated two kilometers (well technically one kilometer because we skated the same way twice..), I still say the canal gave us a workout.

We skated in the dark. Because I find it's a lot harder for people to laugh at my (our) skating skills when they cannot see us. Plus I don't notice the little children speeding past me as much as I normally would if the sun was out.

I am also proud to say that I only fell once. I was pretty close to now falling at all. We were on our way to put our boots back on when I slipped on some snow (ironic yes, slipping on snow while I was on ice..) and landed flat on my ass (sorry mom, a** just fits the sentence better than 'bum' would).

I woke up the next morning with very satisfied taste buds and a huge bruise on my behind.

Have a great week!

-30-

second semester.

2011-01-19T15:04:00.001-05:00

Mama, don't worry. I'm not in a ditch, I am very much alive.

Papa, yes, school is working me to the bone. You'd be satisfied.

Amal, definitely, paint my room brown and green. It's all yours.

Friends, please be rest assured that you are thought of.

School, why do you hate me?

On a much happier note, I AM TWENTY ONE!

monster this betch.

2010-12-09T02:56:00.004-05:00

Be mindful that I am not usually awake this early in the AM. I am regularly warm and comfortable in my mess of blankets and pillows by 10PM (I am old, do not judge me). But it is now 2:36AM and I slightly distressed. I have attempted to trick my body into slumber four hours ago. I did everything I could think of.

I counted sheep. And horses, because they're my favorite. But after a while they became weird colored blobs and the fence evaporated.

I watched my ceiling fan twist round and round, and in the end got very dizzy.

I shut my eyes ever so tightly and pictured I was back home falling asleep to my sister's snores.

I even attempted to revive my five-year plan in my mind and painted a very good looking man.

All to no avail, as I still sit here very much alive, and very much awake. Much to my disappointment.

I am utterly nervous, my heart is beating out of my chest, and there is no amount of soft lullabies I could listen to that would make the the little voice in my head shut up. I have my Journalism final tomorrow.

My friends and I have been intensely studying since Monday, and we have made enough cue cards which has led me to believe that we may have killed a small portion of the Malaysian rain forest. I have flipped through those terms, ideas and lists so many times that all I saw when I ate supper were the words 'fiscal monetary policy' and 'open structured schools'.

This is insane. I am not usually this pent up and worried about an exam. My Papa always told me to "relax" the night before a huge exam. He used to have a cup of tea (with extra spoons of sugar) the night before his exams. I tried to relive that tonight, but after starting up the kettle, I realized the lack of tea bags in my room. Fail, that tradition died quickly.

I honestly think that after jumping, cartwheeling and yelling in Frontenac all day, my body would at least have the decency to cut me some slack and be tired. But no. Apparently I am made out of some real solid 'stuff' and can't be bothered by physical tiredness. Oh Mama, why?

Perhaps it is also the huge red Monster I shot down during lunch. I was very upset when it did not kick in immediately and left me yawning when we were going over science reporting. I almost wanted to go over the food court and demand my (Alice's) money back because their product failed.

Their product did not fail. It is kicking in now. 12 hours TOO LATE DON'T YOU THINK YOU DARN MONSTER ENERGY BOOSTER RIDICULOUSNESS!? WHAT SORT OF CONSUMER PRODUCTIVITY IS THIS? YOUR SIDE EFFECTS ARE FAULTY AND INACCURATE. THESE ARE CLEAR VIOLATIONS OF CANADA'S HEALTH LAW REGULATIONS.

I just flung a pillow to the wall. Violence is never the key.

Well, at least I listed five key elements out of the fifteen that we have to remember for science reporting. Perfect.

But I am not. I am impossibly terrified for the final tomorrow. I think I over studied. Which cannot be a good thing. But no matter, I am just going to read through my notes one more time. Just one more time.

Laurel is NOT happy with the Canadian Reporter

2010-12-04T15:57:00.003-05:00

In a ditch, in a hole, under the brick wall; wherever I may be, please know that I am thinking of you.

Yes, school has gotten the best of me and now I am slowly trying to figure out how I can;

a) write a 10 page essay

b) complete three readings

c) study for a journalism exam

d) study for a political theory exam

all in the span of 72 hours.

Call my crazy, but that is the rut that I now see myself in. My mom always said that things like this happen, and though the hard times will come, and they will also go.

Now I just cannot wait for them to leave me. I must say that I am doing quite well with this essay. I am not got to lie and say that I love this class, quite the contrary, I cannot wait to be done with qualitative research methods. If my TA does not screw me over, I might do better than I actually let off.

It is actually really cold today, and though I am very nicely dressed in an outfit Grace Kelly and my grandmother would be very proud of, I sit in slow regret that the only person that will get to see it are the fathers of confederation who sit on my desktop background. And though it may be cold, and my fingers may freeze because Tory is not heated, I will finish half of the paper. Because I am Iman, and no one tells me 'No'!

Not even my mama.

Okay, I take it back. Only my mama. And my dad. Sometimes.

Alright, I am doing spewing. Please think of me as you eat breakfast, watch television and drive to shopping malls. Because I can't do any of those things.

PS: I am sorry for not blogging properly. I understand that you miss my humor and adoring wit. I will be back bext week after the finals. I promise. Sort of.

grace kelly.

2010-11-20T11:44:00.005-05:00

Today in my ‘Journalism’s View of the Languages and Institutions of Public Life’ class (fancy name), we learned that Ottawa has the second highest aging population in Canada. It is second to Victoria, British Columbia and these two locations are basically where senior citizens are highly concentrated.

I got on the bus and headed home after class. I don’t usually sit up front because all the cooler kids sit at the back of the bus, but today I sat in the first seat I saw. We were halfway downtown when an older Asian lady came up to the bus.

She asked the bus driver something, and of course being the stalker-ish curious person I am, I tried to hear what she was saying. I failed, and she got out of the bus and walked away. I was left thinking “Pfft, she just wasted 30 seconds of bus time”.

Then the bus made the beeping sound and lowered its ramp. The old Asian lady came back into view and her husband slowly trotted behind her with a walking cane.

I was embarrassed with myself for thinking such selfish thoughts.

The old man slowly got on the bus and limped over to the priority seats. He sat right across me and looked at me with these lovely old man eyes, and I melted inside. He smiled at me and I smiled back.

He probably didn’t know it, but he made my day.

Seeing older people smile make me so happy.

Some of you know that my grandmother passed away a couple of years ago. She was such a big part of my life, and losing her was horrible. For the longest time I felt a huge hole in heart, I still do and I would randomly think about calling her while forgetting that she was gone.

We would talk to each other everyday. I remember it like it was yesterday!

She’d call me and ask what I had lunch, what I was doing and if I had finished my homework. I miss her a lot. We even talked about how she would come visit me if I came to Ottawa.

Sure, she would annoy me sometimes, whose grandma doesn’t? But I know that all that good willed nagging was for my own good. And she had a fabulous fashion sense too. Half the items in my closet were hers

Seeing the old Asian couple talk back on the forth on the bus today hurt my heart a little. I definitely wish I could see my grandparents together again but I know she’s in a much better place.

I was talking to some friends this week about Alzheimer’s disease and I think that it would kill me if my grandma could not remember who I was. A very close friend of mine has a grandfather who has the disease. She told us how her grandma decorates his room with pictures of her and her cousins.

There’s even a picture on the wall that says “Grandpa’s Girls”.

For her to share that with me was amazing. Because now I understand that this is real. Life is real. It doesn’t ever stop, it keeps on going. All the time.

One day all of us young healthy people are going to be older and we get to watch other people do what we did when we were younger.

I don’t know why I am suddenly rambling, but I just miss my grandma a lot. She was definitely one of my best friends. But it’s okay, because now I have new best friends and some very special people are looking out for us.

success. no?

2010-11-07T19:54:00.001-05:00

YES YES YES.

I have written, I have conquered, I have accomplished the burden that heavily sat on my soul for six weeks!

My profile is written and all that is left is re-reading, editing, disecting, deleting, re-writing, correcting grammatical mistakes, re-editing, paraphrasing, fact checking, inserting more quotes, structuring, fixing, re-re-reading, spell check, taking out quotes, re-structuring, making sure the margins are right, re-re-editing, proof read and then it's ready to print.

Wait, what am I celebrating again?

take it off.

2010-11-06T17:49:00.001-04:00

I have been trying to write for a very long time.

I have trying for such a long time that I've actually run out of pretzels. And Reese's pieces.

I am running a little low on Hershey Kisses too.

When I left my house this morning, I was all hyped out to do mountains of work. I made a long list of things that I was going to accomplish today (eating my weight in chocolate was not on this list, but it is something I have achieved. So proud.) and penned it officially in my planner. Jotting anything down in my planner is official. Dates with me only happen if it is my planner. 'Mental note' that please.

I packed a million things in my backpack, anticipating the fact that they will help me in getting so much work done. I had my binder, notebook, planner, charger and macbook.

Now with all the study materials I needed sustenance! I put together a charitable pack of carrots, pretzels and chocolate. I even stuck in my ultra comfortable sweater and an extra pair of socks.

Oh so gung-ho.

I was not going to leave the library until I had at least half of my profile written.

Of course that is not going to happen.

It seems as if my life is on a constant rollecoaster of crushing events: the library closes at 8PM. It is now 5:47PM. Words on my profile: 15.

I say this is a major fail. And even worse? I just ran out of Hershey Kisses.

Damn it.

conker bonker.

2010-11-03T15:47:00.001-04:00

Carleton has an annual book sale called the Library Circle Friends. My mother is probably shaking her head at this because she knows that I must have checked out all my savings and blew them on a pile of old books.

Well, she's right.

I did buy a whole pile of old books, but I did not withdraw every penny I had. I only spent $10. I kid you not. TEN DOLLAH!

The book sale went on for four days and on Friday I was lured in by the smell of musty old books. Yes, this is why I am sad, sarcastic and live alone.

But you must be proud of me and know that I only bought five gorgeous hardcover books.

Monday was a different story though. I was on campus 45 minutes early and decided to 'browse' the sale on its last day in the Atrium. I saw a sign that said "$10 per box".

Bonkers. I went bonkers.

I had 'crazy woman' mode on and went from table to table picking up every book I thought had a great cover. I got a stack of autobiographies, a fantastic collection of Shakespeare, some fiction novels and a bunch of Soviet Union books. I got some little aged books that had brilliant gold cursive writing on the spine. I must admit that I doubt I'd read these little books, but they are great for decorating!

Call me pretentious (chick who buys pretty books because they look pretty), but I say 'thrifty'.

All in all, I bought 40 books for $10. As I walked up to the cash to pay for my books, the lady looked at me and then looked at my books, and said "Too bad your boyfriend isn't here today to carry these for you."

I smiled and said "Yeap, not today. He says I need to build some muscle." She laughed, so I guess she thinks I'm funny.

Bringing all my books home were a pain (excuse my french). I swear I think I broke my thumb and dislocated both my shoulders (don't worry mom, I'm still wearing my brace). But adding all the books to my growing collection was such a great feeling. My gorgeous oak bookshelf looks less naked now.

My bank account, meh. Not so much.

have you ever had shoes without shoestrings?

2010-10-27T14:39:00.005-04:00

Please allow me to share a few things I learnt today with you.

1) If you are too cheap to buy a recording device for your phone, you can just hold up your recorder to your phone and look like a crazy sleep-deprived journalism monster who has two hands permanently fixated to your left ear. Phone interviews are also very intimidating. Please stay calm and do not cry in the middle of the interview. Your interviewee will think you are a basketcase. Or that you are a child.

2) Growling at the person walking in front of you because he is about to take your spot at the desks with the best view is the prime way to make him think you are crazy. This is good because he will go away and you will have your spot at the desks with the great view.

3) Wear comfortable shoes to school. It does not matter how much money you traded for a pair of shoes. You do not want deformed feet in exchange for cuteness. Vanity does not matter when it comes to health.

At least that is what my mother tells me when she wants me to wear my back brace under my clothes.

4) Never laugh at loud when you are watching a funny TV show in public. What are you?! Sheesh. People would think you don't have a TV or that you are a loser. Or crazy.

5) Patience will get you interviews and you go to school to be smart. Stick it through. Be strong. Don't chicken out. Or cry. And you'll be golden. 17 bars of choclate won't hurt either.

My day started on a pretty low note, but it's slowly getting better. The key to life is this: breathe.

You'll get oxygen and you won't die.

I must now go and write stories about goats, museums and murders. Anderson Cooper better be worth all of this. If not I might just have to go and sell my organization skills to some people who live like pigs so I can buy a plane ticket back to freakin' Asia and eat chinese fried rice and work for TV3 for the rest of life. Such shame.

animal-less.

2010-10-22T17:04:00.001-04:00

I don't eat meat.

Well, that is sort of a lie. I do eat meat when it is Halal. But most of the time meat is not Halal, so I don't eat it. It does get quite tiring and sometimes awkward to explain to people. So I just say that I am vegetarian.

I am one with the vegetables. Veggie burgers are so good, you should try one.

Vegetables are my go to, unless there is a seafood option on the menu. I always go for the fish, calamari and seafood-ish choices. That's why I love stuffing my face with sushi.

So today when we went to Lonestar for lunch, I did my usual and decided on getting calamari while everyone else had beef and steak fajitas.

When the waiter asked me why I did not want fajitas I said, "I don't eat meat," and then ordered the calamari. He asked "So squid isn't meat?"

I said "I eat seafood."

Then he said "But seafood is meat. Oh, are you one those people who only eat meat sometimes and not other times?"

At this point, I feel quite uncomfortable and just said, "Something like that."

He wouldn't leave me alone and said "You don't drink either do you?". I just stared at him. "No."

"That's a really silly rule isn't it? No meat and no drinking. You should break those rules."

I just kept on staring on him. "Yep, you should definitely break the rules," he added. Then he decided to go away.

I honestly felt beyond awkward. I have never been put in a position where I was outwardly told that the rules I followed were 'silly'. People usually respect that I am a Muslim and that I don't do the things my friends do. My friends totally understand that I don't go out, drink, party or eat steaks. They are okay with that and respect what I do and what I don't.

My friends are great. They make sure things we share don't have meat, bacon, or marshmallows in them. They are super :)

After being in such an understanding environment for such a long time since coming to Ottawa, I was kind of zapped into reality with what happened today.

I mean, it's no biggie. I don't eat hamburgers and stuff, but that does not mean I am silly. It just means I'm consuming less animal fat.

legal enterprise.

2010-10-18T18:25:00.004-04:00

Before I continue on with my paper on qualitative research methods of political science (exciting stuff, yes. Kill me), I would like to make a widely unknown legal point : you are not allowed to take photos of other people's children (Minors. Any person who is under eighteen) and plaster their faces on the internet without consent.

Yes, I understand that you cannot resist the urge of smothering their milky cheeks with your 'goo-goos' and 'ga-gas' and that you would like to etch their faces in your camera lens forever. You can go ahead, as long as you're willing to pay the price. In jail.

Or you could pay a considerable amount of money to the family you have affected and the rest can go toward your legal bills. But to honest, your hard earned cash could go towards something more beneficial, like a car, a whole new wardrobe, or food.

There is nothing waiting for you on the other side of displaying an un-consented child's face online, except having to face the fact that you need a new hobby. Pronto.

I have recently noticed friends who take photos of totally random children and post them up on Facebook. What is the goal here folks? Would you like your friends to know that you hang out with adorable children? Dude, it's sad, not cool.

I tell you what, the next time any of you have an irresistible urge of posting up photos of amazingly gorgeous children online, you should use this one:

You have my permission. I won't sue you, I promise.

where where.

2010-10-16T20:16:00.001-04:00

I have just 'evacuated' the library and am exiled to the tables under the Azrieli theater. Shucks, I was on a roll with my History homework too.

After the ASB pre-departure today, I went to the library and tried to figure out which floor I should be on. I decided the fifth floor was probably the best way to go because it would give me a work out. Plus it is a 'quiet floor' so I would not have to throw my pumpkin cake at anyone.

Exhausted as I was, I "forced" myself to catch up on the latest ANTM episode (shocker or what? I am glad they got rid of 'her' though). Procrastination is a bitch. But I got around to work. Eventually.

It has been a long day, the random flickering of lights for 30 seconds and abrupt alarm rings have definitely been the icing on the cake. Cliche, oui.

It has been a long two weeks in general. I will not divulge and complain, because that's not how I roll. I also brought it on myself, so I have no one to blame. 'cept myself of course.

For those who think I have been "eaten by textbooks" or "nerding" by myself, you are somewhat wrong. I spent my fabulous long weekend in Sudbury and the rest of my days at various places all over town. I've been to a farm, a great selection of offices and meat stores. But the honeymoon is over, and the real work kicks in now. More like kicking me in the butt, however you are probably not concerned by that, you just want stories.

Well, the story is this: I have no stories.

Big lie. They'll be saved up and shared the next time I evacuate the library. Have a great weekend, or what is left of it.

See, I am still alive.

currency.

2010-10-01T15:00:00.000-04:00

I paid my rent today. Each time I input my spending and sum up rent and bills, I feel like getting into bed and wait for my next paycheck.

One of the hardest things about moving out and living on your own is having to be in charge of your money. The temptation of swiping your debit card every single day is enormous, they are so many lovely things to own and amazing dishes to try.

I have this habit of collecting my receipts and keeping track of everything I spend in my nifty little 'numbers' chart on my Mac. I know exactly how I spent my money, when and why (most times this 'why' is vague. Let us leave it at that). It is a great idea to keep track of how you are spending your money (or your parents money..) because it gives you a sense of fear.

Fear that at the end of the month you may overshoot your budget by 200 dollars, fear that you may have to eat flax bread because it's the cheapest option in the bread section and fear that if you buy those jeans, you can't go out with your friends next week. And I like this fear.

It makes me aware for every dime I spend and make smart decisions.

However I was not very smart this summer. Because I was making my own money, I thought I could spend it. I went all out this summer: multiple visits to Rideau and its surrounding areas, a new camera, trips, pricey restaurants and perhaps even a few ridiculous purchases. My logic was this: if I spent my own money, I don't have to spend my parents money.

Bad logic. This is why I never did well in math class.

Now I am somewhat on a ridiculously strained budget. No more eating out and shopping sprees for me. My debit card may be out of commission for an indefinite amount of time, and I blame this all on myself. And summer sales.

But my advice to people who live alone is this: no, you do not need those jeans and when people invite you over for dinner, go! - it's free.

we gladly serve.

2010-09-20T08:28:00.003-04:00

I lucked out this year by having no 8:30AM classes. Fall or winter. Therefore the fact that I am sitting in the Atrium at 8AM on a Monday morning bothers me a little. I am scheduled to talk about Alternative Spring Break in CIVE2700. Our aim this year is to promote our programs to the science and engineering faculties and increase their participation in the community service learning (CSL) opportunities we have on campus.

What a plug.

I've been working a lot with the Student Experience Office (SEO) since the fall semester started. On Saturday, Caitlin and I led a team of 17 people to the Ottawa Food Bank for Carleton Serves. Carleton Serves has become an annual event where students volunteer at organizations in the Ottawa community for a day. We had 200 registered participants and 15 partnered organizations this year. My friends, Ify and Kristina, have been organizing it all summer.

When Ify was looking around for team leaders, I begged her to take me on. The result was three hours of sorting food for 3000 people. Caitlin and I had a great group, with their amazing energy and teamwork, we managed to sort out four crates of food. It was hard work, a few bottles broke here and there, but it was well worth it.

I even got barbecue sauce on my jeans.

When we put away the last box of 'miscellaneous dry', I was satisified with what our team had accomplished and I cannot wait for next year's event.

You should sign up for CSL events!

asian action.

2010-09-13T19:14:00.000-04:00

Some Polaroids from my Malaysian trip in May. We should go on a trip together sometime.

substitute.

2010-09-10T22:22:00.001-04:00

In previous years I spent Eid surrounded by my family, food and a lot of heat. I'd dress up in a baju kurung and eat lemang till I could not bear to move. The feeling of glutton and chase for those green money packets would pretty much up sum up this annual celebration after Ramadhan. This being the second time I've spent Eid in Ottawa, I decided that I have got to create some sort of tradition that I can carry forward as my years here churn on.

I believe that replacing lemang and rendang for sushi is a nobel act.

My Eid was essentially a three hour lecture from P.Johansen telling a roomful of journalists and PAPM-ites to 'know your sh*t'. Pardon my language. A very different Eid experience for sure. But enjoyable nonetheless.

At home, I'd get stacks of money for Eid. This year I bought myself a nifty little present for working hard all summer. I purchased the Olympus 500 digital recorder that we need for J2201.

Alright, who am I kidding?
I've been rewarding myself for working hard all summer with random gifts all summer. They cancel each other out. But a real treat that I definitely enjoyed today, was seeing two raccoons on my fire escape right outside my window. The other raccoon ran away when it saw my camera.

It has been the best Eid so far, hands down. I spent it doing things I enjoyed and made me realise what Eid is all about; being grateful for having the chance to live one more day doing things you love and being around people you adore.

Eid Mubarak everyone.

second first day.

2010-09-09T22:19:00.001-04:00

It has been a year since I started j-skool. I cannot believe it.

Today was the first day of second year Journalism. I had my reporting class and though I was very intimidated when I first arrived at 300 St Patrick's, I eased up after I saw a few familiar faces. Yes, I did almost cry as I called Caitlin when I didn't see her, but I would say that my first day as a second year went by fairly well. Articles are to be written every week and I cannot be more thrilled about that. I must begin solidifying my brain.

Yesterday was an amazing day. I handed out t-shirts to first years before the new student convocation. Of course I called dibs for handing out the journalism shirts. They were orange again this year, but not the puke-esque orange we had to wear last year. They were slightly better. I yelled "Journalism, J-Skool! T-Shirts right hereeeee" 25 times in the span of two hours and had the time of my life. I swear, I can spot a j-skooler a mile away. They have this 'look'. For real.

After high-fiving and giving them shirts, I said "Welcome to J-Skool!" to the first years, and when they smiled at me, my heart melted. Very creepy, I understand. But it feels so good to accept people and to be accepted. We are a particularly small program, and everyone is going to know everyone. If not by name, by looks. Why do you think j-skoolers look so good?

I honestly hope I get to meet more first years soon, and show them the great big world of journalistic wonderment (is that a word?)

I gave four workshops in the evening for the Class of 2014, research skills and note taking. I honestly did not know how it was going to turn out because I expected everyone to bail. But I was pleasantly surprised. I had full houses for all them and received amazing response from the crowd! I tried my best to make the workshops as entertaining as possible (we all did) and be as naturally funny and engaging as possible. I think that the fact I handed out prizes helped slightly. A girl even came up to me and asked if I took classes that taught me how to speak in front of crowds. I said "Once you're thrown into it, you just have to do it". Well, if I never make it as a journalist, I suppose I may have a career as a professor. Who would want to learn anything from me?

Second year of j-skool is going to be amazing. I can feel it. I know it.

clipping.

2010-09-06T18:24:00.003-04:00

At long last, my debut on The Charlatan, Carleton's independent newspaper since 1945. Unlike most of the first year journalism students at Carleton (and what a magnificent bunch we are), I did not scramble for an article assignment in my first year. Instead I waited for The Charlatan to come to me. How selfish and somewhat pompous of me. I apologize.

Click here to read the full article.

In the same issue, I wrote an article and had one written about me. How fortunate can one get?

Click here to read the full article.

So, what do you think?

washing day.

2010-09-06T18:13:00.001-04:00

As I was putting my wet laundry into the dryer, I randomly realised that I only do my laundry once every two weeks. Before you judge me on being disgusting and lazy, please remember that I am a student. And you do know that those in university have tighter pockets than those who do not. Plus I'm lazy to wash my clothes every week. And the machines take only dollars, so I have to scrounge around for loonies for days on end.

But doing laundry every two weeks does have its perks. I am forced to wear everything in my closet because my favourite clothes are dirty. I also do not go through as much detergent as the average person does. In the year that I have lived on my own, I have bought detergent twice. Yes, 365 days and only two medium bottles of washing detergent. I saved a lot of cash.

Just the other day, I finished the bottle of body soap that I bought last year with my parents. Can you imagine it? One bottle of soap lasted me a year? I take daily showers! Sometimes even twice a day. I never thought about it until I finally finished my bottle of Jergens Moist Body Wash last week. It smelt like jasmine flowers. My mom bought it at Walmart last year.

I believe that living alone definitely has its perks. I have no one to clean up after, no one to argue with and I can eat whatever I want. But I pay for my space by being extremely alone at night, dead bored on Thursday afternoons and petrified after horror movies. Bummer.

what the beep.

2010-08-29T12:15:00.000-04:00

I used to believe that ideas for writing blog posts, articles or letters, landed in your lap. But then I changed my mind and decided that I had to go out and search for these ideas. Things don't come to you, you go to them (oh, the inner journalist). So for the past few months I was always on the lookout for ideas, stories and sentences that could be penned down and presented as entertainment for you a couple of minutes each day.

Today, I was proved wrong.

As normal as most Sundays go, today was pretty normal. I was cleaning (surprised? I hope not), when this awful beeping sound echoed through the entire house. I thought someone left a piece of toast too long in the toaster and would have the decency to wave away the smoke from the alarm. I was wrong. After two minutes of non stop beeping, I stepped outside and was told that someone in the basement left the stove unattended. Apparently this is not the first time it has happened, it is the 12th.

We could not turn the alarm off. Only the fire department had the power to do that. No more than three minutes later, two fire trucks and eight firemen were nicely parked outside the house. They checked the main house and then went to the basement to turn off that despicable alarm. By this time my ears were severely irritated.

After they gave us a few annoyed looks, the firemen were on their way, perhaps off to fight a real fire. They looked disappointed that there was no adrenaline rush for their eventful morning. I suppose once you fight fires for a living, you'd be upset if you were called out for something unexciting. I wonder if they work on commission; the more fires you put out, the more you make.

Well, do not worry. I am fine, and all my possessions are smoke free.

Yes, most of the time you have to make the story happen and you have to find something worth talking about. But sometimes the world flicks you a tale worth telling, so you take it and run. Other times, you are at the right place at the right time. Evidently for me it was to be at home on a Sunday morning.

Have a great Sunday everyone.

that lemon.

2010-08-20T18:31:00.009-04:00

When I decide to do something, I go all out. My color coded binders and notebooks can attest to that. After the gluttonous ice cream post last week, mixed with the fact that I can no longer fit into my jeans without having a visible and disgusting pudge, I have finally embraced my mom's advice: get off my bum and exercise.

I am now in the zone of working off my unnecessary fat and gaining the muscle I know I should have. I finally want to be like those girls I violently scream at on the TV. You know the ones I am talking about, the girls who have flat abs, toned thighs and clear skin. I abhor them. But I want their fit bodies. I think my hate is fueled by the fact that they have what I don't. Women.

Armed with my mom's relentlessness support (and money), I marched into Lululemon and bought a yoga mat and a pilates set. Having Caitlin buying a mat too made me a little stronger as I swiped my debit card and parted with a small fortune. While in line I said, "Look at it this way, we are not spending money, we are investing in our health." The lady ahead of us turned around and said "I like the way you think". See, I told you I come up with the best excuses, even strangers think so.

Now that I have a gorgeous purple yoga mat, weights, a ball and resistant bands, I have no excuse to not get into better shape. So hear this, my goal is to achieve the perfect hot rod bod (toned thighs, flat and muscled abs, beautiful arms and clear clear clear skin) by the summer of 2011. I am giving myself eights months to whip myself into shape and gain a healthier lifestyle.

This is the plan; follow the exercise plan mom gave me, eat a healthier diet (MUFA: Mono Unsaturated Fatty Acids are the way to go), swim, run and do yoga every week. I will also think good thoughts, pray and be a more positive person. Balance is the key. Oh goodness, I suddenly feel renewed. This feels good.

I'll have my last bottle of Pepsi tonight. The last one, tonight. I promise.

mondaisies.

2010-08-16T23:20:00.002-04:00

After almost a week of staring at the ceiling of my apartment, I ventured to the outside world today. Bank Street was lovely, as was Wellington. It is annoying when I bring a book to read on the bus, but the window tears me away from the pages. Tres annoying. The main mission for today was to spend/use the 10 dollar Ikea gift card I won at work.

I knew exactly what I needed to get. Key word: need. This time I was not to be distracted by what I 'wanted' and I was determined to march into Ikea, get what I needed and walk myself right out. But once I got there I did linger by the cushions and dawdle at the frames. Perhaps even pause for an indefinite amount of time at the bookshelves. In the end I compromised with myself, I bought the black hangers that I needed and the extra pillow I wanted. Give and take! The 49cent oven mitt does not count because it was only 49cents.

Once I was on my way home, I decided to get off the bus and walk along Wellington because it was a gorgeous day out and I had a glorious outfit on, plus I wanted to break in my Urban Outfitters sneakers (it was a steal!).

If anyone is planning a trip to O-town, I highly recommend walking down Wellington and Richmond Street. They have amazing cafes and delis, great antique shops and bakeries, bookstores and boutiques. Wellington is definitely one of my favorite streets. Sure, I did gravitate to peering into store windows and perhaps even entered a few, but you must be proud of me and know that I did not buy anything.

Fine, I spent $4 on two cushions. But it does not count because it was $4 and I needed those cushions.

Excuses are the mark of a shopaholic, not that I am one of course (a statement my mom would rebutt). Getting supper from KFC was slightly interesting as the lady behind the counter quizzed me about my new Ikea pillow, the price, the size, if it really was a pillow or a mattress, why I was in Canada and shared the fact that she has not been to Ikea for a long time but she should because they always have such great deals. She was an interesting character, however I would like to think that she gave me some extra gravy for entertaining her for six minutes. Good thing there was no one next in line.

The rest of the day went along well despite the fact that I boarded the bus with three bags, a rolled up pillow and a huge bottle of Pepsi. I knew people were looking at me and thinking "there goes the girl with three bags, a rolled up pillow and a huge bottle of Pepsi. I sure hope she does not sit next to me". But I made it home alright, thank you for worrying.

PS: Hello Momma :)

i understand you.

2010-08-14T20:13:00.003-04:00

Shameless. That is how I would describe myself at this very moment. This is because I have eaten my weight in ice cream. I have successfully and shamelessly stuffed my face with 2 liters of butterscotch ice cream, decorated by chocolate sauce and dotted with rainbow sprinkles. I kid you not. Here is photographic proof.

You may ask as to why I have allowed my inner glutton to take over my seamlessly hot rod bod, and the answer is quite simple dearest; nothing.

I just felt like eating ice cream out of the tub. First off, it translates to one less bowl I'd have to wash, and that is always a good thing. And secondly, I just wanted to. Don't you ever do things or have moments where you did something "just 'cause"? Well, this was one of those moments. I just felt like watching The Bachelorette and eating butterscotch ice cream out of the tub "just 'cause." Then it made me question how many times I do things "just 'cause". I always over think my actions. Obsessively, to the point where I don't do most things because I think it's a bad idea.

Sometimes bad ideas are the best ones. They really are. I honestly wish I talked to Prince Eric when we 'accidentally' saw him in the Food Court on Wednesday. I wish that I danced on that table and I wish I'd eaten that extra plate of fries. Taking from the wise words of Ms. Swift "I don't know how it gets better than this, you take my hand and drag me head first, fearless". Fearless. I have to be more fearless. Now, I know that eating ice cream out of the tub has no relation to being fearless, but it has definitely made me realize that I must step out of my comfort zone more and do things I normally don't.

I have to do more things "just 'cause" and think about the consequences later.

So here, let us pledge together that from now on we will be more adventurous, we will be braver and we will live every day as if we'd be broke tomorrow. We will sing out loud to the songs everyone hates because we secretly love them. We'll eat that tub of ice cream today and think about working off the flab next week. What say you? Are you with me?

his girl friday.

2010-08-13T16:27:00.007-04:00

For those who do not know, I consider Dijon mustard, 'Wasabi of the West'. I am cooped up yet again at home with a ridiculous headache, itchy cold and temperamental temperatures. Most of the morning consisted of hot water bottles and a lot of sleep. I have slept away hours to the point where I just do not want to sleep anymore and I turned to my childhood cartoons to make me feel better. The Smurfs have kept me company for most of the day and then the Teen Choice Awards and Jersey Shore took over. What can I say? I am TV sort of person.

After copious amounts of online television provided by Stagevu and Sidereel, my body insisted for nutrition. I have been slightly wary about eating for the past few days because I ended up throwing everything up anyway (No, you did not need that vision of me over the toilet..puking). That is a waste of food. But about an hour ago my subconscious begged for beef burgers, the most unhealthy meal a sick person could eat. But as I slowly made my homemade beef burger (how I crave a Whopper right now..) I slapped on two coats of Dijon mustard below my layer of cucumbers without thinking of the consequences. Oh boy, were those consequences immediate.

Do not underestimate me, I have eaten Dijon mustard before, and I have enjoyed all the previous three times I've had it. It gives an absurd kick to whatever you're eating and makes you want to take another bite even though it may kill you. Dijon mustard in food is like Taylor Lautner in Twilight/New Moon/Eclipse, it's so good in a bad sort of way (that's it, I just lost all my Twilight readers). But I overdosed myself this time, big time. Every bite was painful, my nose was a faucet in the worse way, my eyes watered and burned, my taste buds felt like they were going to die, but of course being a firm believer in 'finish your food', I ate my way through that Dijon acidic beef patty. Every bite burned another hole in my small intestine.

Have you ever had Wasabi without any accompaniment? If you have, you might understand my current pain; a mix of proud stupidity for having conquered the suffering and burning eye sockets. I agree, I am exaggerating, but that is what a whole day of 1940 movies and loneliness may do to you, everything suddenly feels like it is a Hitchcock thriller or a Taylor Swift song.

tonight tonight.

2010-08-12T22:18:00.001-04:00

Let us say that we were bosom friends. And that I told you everything. Everything. What I think about, how I feel and why I arrange my shoes by colour. If we were bosom friends, you would be the person I'd call when I'm sick and I would feel no shame to sniffle and sneeze into the phone while you were on the other line. I wish we were bosom friends so I could cut off a lock of my hair in exchange for yours and while we lay under the endless carpet of stars in a navy blue tent I would tell you everything. Everything.

I have been under the weather for the past few days. I didn't go to work yesterday and spent the whole day in bed watching Cary Grant movies. I didn't eat much but drank buckets of water. I had to go to bathroom every couple of minutes, and I think Mr Grant was annoyed that I kept on hitting 'pause' every other second. I was feeling slightly better as the evening wore on, I even decided to clean my room. So I puttered around in my special 'fever' socks and dusted, washed, cleaned and organized my room. I took down the colorful fairy lights on my ceiling and instead twisted white lights around the edge of my day bed. Eventful day, I know. I watched 'An Affair To Remember' about four times yesterday only because the ending is so simply cliche that it sends me into an unsatisfied fury.

Today was slightly better, I went to work for a half a day but after throwing up a few times I decided to come home. I stopped by Hartmans and bought a lot of fruits because mom says I need them. The rest of the day was spent in bed with a few naps and several Grant movies. I am utterly unashamed to say that I have stored North by Northwest away for a few hours just so I can watch Bachelor Pad. What would my Film professor think if he knew I gave up Hitchcock for an hour of reality TV? I am an embarrassment.

This was supposed to be short update. We are having a 'Make Your Own Sushi' Night at Dee's tomorrow and I am in charge of bringing the cucumbers. I bought eight of them today, I hope that's enough. Oh, by the way, I think you look beautiful tonight.

brief.

2010-08-11T22:18:00.001-04:00

I was cruising Facebook when I saw this link on the newsfeed. This totally made my day, mashallah.

[Excerpt from the White House briefing room: http://www.whitehouse.gov/the-press-office/2010/08/11/statement-president-occasion-ramadan]

The White House

Office of the Press Secretary

For Immediate Release

August 11, 2010

Statement by the President on the Occasion of Ramadan

On behalf of the American people, Michelle and I want to extend our best wishes to Muslims in America and around the world. Ramadan Kareem.

Ramadan is a time when Muslims around the world reflect upon the wisdom and guidance that comes with faith, and the responsibility that human beings have to one another, and to God. This is a time when families gather, friends host iftars, and meals are shared. But Ramadan is also a time of intense devotion and reflection – a time when Muslims fast during the day and pray during the night; when Muslims provide support to others to advance opportunity and prosperity for people everywhere. For all of us must remember that the world we want to build – and the changes that we want to make – must begin in our own hearts, and our own communities.

These rituals remind us of the principles that we hold in common, and Islam’s role in advancing justice, progress, tolerance, and the dignity of all human beings. Ramadan is a celebration of a faith known for great diversity and racial equality. And here in the United States, Ramadan is a reminder that Islam has always been part of America and that American Muslims have made extraordinary contributions to our country. And today, I want to extend my best wishes to the 1.5 billion Muslims around the world – and your families and friends – as you welcome the beginning of Ramadan.

I look forward to hosting an Iftar dinner celebrating Ramadan here at the White House later this week, and wish you a blessed month.

May God’s peace be upon you.

nice eyes.

2010-07-27T20:09:00.003-04:00

I am quite content as I type this out because my belly is full of delicious wonton soup, Jet and Cord are trying to figure out how to get from Reimes to Pierry and all my laundry has been folded and put away.

Today at work I thought out loud and said "I think I'm going to make wonton soup tonight", LJ and Sarah said that they love wonton soup so it was decided that I would make it for dinner and bring some for them tomorrow. I went home with high spirits knowing that I was coming back to a clean room and armed with a supper plan. I flicked through my trusty Canadian Living Cookbook and found the recipe. Now, I must admit that the one of the main reasons why I wanted to make the soup was because it called for three sticks (sticks?!) of green onions and I had a couple waiting in the fridge, and before they go bad or before I threw them out, I thought it'd be better to make good use of them so I decided to choose a recipe that required green onions.

I walked to Hartmans only needing three other ingredients and the coveted wontons. After getting the remaining ingredients and a new peeler (I debated for three minutes whether I should get the 3.99 peeler or the 99cent peeler. I went with the 99cent peeler), I scoured the aisles for the wontons. I must have walked around frazzled for a good 20 minutes when I finally gave up and decided that Hartmans does not carry wontons. I was very disappointed and extremely sad. How was I to make wonton soup without wontons?

In the end I grabbed a bag of peeled shrimp in subsitute of shrimp wontons and walked home a very sad but determined Iman. I chopped everything that had to be chopped, shredded everything that needed to be shredded and made my chicken stock. The soup took about 30 minutes to make and now I sit a very happy and full child.

So my reviews? My wonton-minus-wonton soup has got to be the best soup I have ever made, even if it is the only soup I've ever made.. I had it without any additions; bread, rice, etc, however I feel full to the brim. Yes, granted I did have three bowlfuls but it just proves how great my soup really was. I am tooting my own horn, it is allowed.

I am super happy about my paced, yet relatively successful cooking habits. Yes! Iman-1, Cooking Mishap-0!

2010-07-27T18:30:00.000-04:00

I did not get the memo.

2010-07-22T22:47:00.001-04:00

2% evaporated milk.

2010-07-22T18:31:00.000-04:00

Nanu texted me yesterday while I was at work demanding that we make dinner together. I did not object. She came over and flipped through my Canadian Living cookbook and decided that we would make Creamy Chicken Pesto. We needed the key ingredient, chicken, so we went to Wellington Street and I finally bought my stock of poultry. Gord has been reminding me to go and get meat for the longest time, and Nanu finally made me go. We followed the recipe to the T and though I must admit that I lost a little faith when the sauce was watery, we bounced back up after we added the chicken stock and flour.

I think the reason why I was so turned off by cooking is the prep before you actually start mixing the ingredients together. I am no good at slicing, mincing, cutting, shredding or peeling. I am shit at it. I can cut strawberries just perfectly, but once I have to dice onions, I cry in frustration. Thank goodness Nanu was there to save me at the cutting board and she stirred everything in perfectly.

We ended up with a whole pan of fantastic creamy pesto sauce. Though we didn't use whole chicken breasts (the butcher ran out) and substituted it with smaller pieces of chicken, it was for the better because every mouthful had a piece of chicken in it rather than having to bite into a huge piece of chicken (I used the word 'chicken' four times in that last sentence). So I must say that my culinary journey is speeding up. I must admit that I dislike the fact that I do not have a proper kitchen to myself (cooking under pressure is no fun), but I shall not let that excuse get in my way.

But the best thing about cooking is washing the dishes and cleaning your counter tops after you've eaten your lovely meal. Because there is nothing better than having the feeling of clean dishes. No? Ok, maybe just me then.

pop.

2010-07-19T19:20:00.002-04:00

Summer is the perfect time for denim jackets, aviator sunglasses and leather bags. True, those three things are just as divine all year round, but summer somehow makes dressing up so much more fulfilling. In the cold, you could just hide under layers and coats, but when the sunshine prays for some floral, I can't help but to silently abide to its pleas. But no, today is not about me, it's about summer food and how much I enjoy it.

It is common knowledge that I am not the bravest person when it comes to measuring cups and meat, but I am proud to declare that I have bought myself a cookbook and have promised to myself that I will make at least one meal a week, from scratch. Now, I know that making one proper meal a week is downright embarrassing, but when you work the hours I do, with the absence of motivation I have, you'd understand (I blame the lack of motivation on the hot summer sun, when fall comes so will my energy boost).

So far I have made two dishes since buying my cookbook; catfish fingers with Cajun mayonnaise and salmon pasta with peas. Alright, so I substituted the catfish with another type of fish (I don't even know what it was, it was just in my freezer) and the pasta was made without proper measurements, but they both turned out great! True, I burnt my hands pretty badly when I took the cooking sheet out of the oven, but what's some good food without pain? Both cooking experiences had its good and bad sides. The pasta was amazingly creamy and delicious, but because I made so much (I followed the directions, but apparently the recipe made four servings) of it, I had salmon pasta for the entire week. The catfish fingers-minus the catfish+some other sort of fish was crunchy and somewhat spicy, but because I did not coat the fish properly with cornmeal and cajun seasoning, a few pieces came out unevenly crunchy. Oh well, lessons for next time.

We are having a potluck this Thursday, and everyone is bringing a dish. I am certain that a few individuals (Gord, Dee and Hilary) are battling it out for whose dish is the best. I do not think I am up to par just yet, or ever will be, so I might just bring cookies or juice or pop. Or perhaps some Jell-O.

2010-07-13T20:50:00.003-04:00

No, I don't play varsity hockey. I do not know how to hitch a sail on to a boat named 'Desiree'. I don't understand the in and outs of quantum physics. I don't know how to break an egg with one hand, I don't know all the lyrics to Bohemian Rhapsody or how to hum to Jeopardy. No, I don't sew my own clothes or have tin boxes that hold little treasures. I could never play poker or understand what 'off-side' is.

There is no way I could learn how to make my skin nice and smooth or have my hair silky and straight. I don't know how to cheat or how to blow a bubble. No, I have never been kissed and I don't know how to download movies. I can't dance. I don't know how to burp the alphabet or how to drive a standard. I don't drink and don't know how to. I don't read murder-mystery books and don't own a Guns N Roses t-shirt. I can't whistle.

I am not eloquent, cute and don't write love letters. I have never been to a concert or a funeral. I don't know how to do a figure 8 on the ice, skateboard or play Risk. I am not cool, I don't know how to boil eggs. No, it is not "hot" under this. I don't know how to tell funny jokes or what an Irish car bomb is. I can't sing, run or cry quietly. I don't watch 'cool' movies. I don't know how to fold clothes so that they stack properly. I don't know how to tell you how I feel, how much I don't miss you or why you make me upset. I don't laugh properly.

I can't be a blonde, brunette or a communist.

No, I am not adorable and I don't make homemade lunches. I don't know how to read in moving vehicles, how to drink tomato juice or how to stop staring. I don't flip my hair, wear short skirts or watch foreign films. I cannot understand math. I am self conscious and I am brown but asian. I don't order the right food at restaurants and don't write good songs.
Why are you still here?

dearest eric.

2010-07-01T18:44:00.004-04:00

I am a girl (I hope this is well demonstrated). And perhaps it may be the after-effect of watching 'He's Just Not That Into You' or the numerous hand holders I've witnessed today, but I have suddenly started thinking. Not the dangerous type of thinking, just the 'thinking'.

On Parliament Hill today, my friends and I were watching the on-goings of Canada Day while being shmucked in the middle of a monstrous crowd. We were in the Queen's presence which was very exciting for me as I've never been in the presence of royalty. However the only thing that dampened my spirits was that I am too short. Too short. Too Asian-esque short. I could not see past the guy in front of me, and while everyone cheered and clapped, all I saw were the red and white stripes of the shirt in front me. Quite sad I believe. So before I could turn around to tell my friends of my painful dejection, the person standing next to me said "Can you see her?"

Two things surprised me: 1) He was a guy, and 2) He was talking to me. Let me begin by saying that guys do not notice me, let alone talk to me in public (they don't talk to me in private either, but it just points to the fact that in public, there will be people who can see him talking to me). Good looking guys do not notice me, or just guys in general, not getting hit on is definitely a 'perk' of being unnoticeable. But oh well, it was Canada Day, so I thought that perhaps some of the good Parliament Hill vibe was sweeping itself along, so I went with it. I said "No, that's one of the bad things about being so short", and added a smile at the end, because smiles always help. Or they can be creepy. It can go either way, but I went with the smile anyway, it was worth a shot. Then this good looking blue-eyed, blue shirt wearing young man starts narrating to me what was going on while trying to point out the Queen to me. Granted I could have probably tiptoed and gotten a glance at the big screens, but I just stood there and let him tell me whatever he wanted. He could have said that a cow suddenly galloped (do cows gallop?) on the red carpet and I would have probably believed him.

Then he said "I can take pictures for you if you want", and knowing that he could not run off with my camera into the static crowd, I lent him my camera and he clicked a few times. We just commented back and forth for a couple of minutes, it was almost a full on conversation, and then a few people in front of us left and I was sifted forward. But the miraculous Parliament Hill karma did its 'thing' again, and within minutes he was standing next to me. The back and forth commenting began again. But I suppose whatever possessed him to want to talk to me wore off and when the crowd started to leave, he got swept away and I didn't see him again.

We named him 'Eric'. Firstly because he definitely looks like an Eric and I watched The Little Mermaid four times last night. Eric was nice, and though our comments did not get deep and personal, I could tell that he could be funny. Soon after Eric left, the girls and I went to go grab lunch which was followed by a screening of 'He's Just Not That Into You' at Hilary's. In the movie, Bradley Cooper says to Scarlett Johansson, "You are extremely charming," and then I said to the girls, "I want to be extremely charming too." Of course being my friends, they piped "Oh sweetie, you are charming!" and brought up how Eric was "so into [me]". I did not think that Eric was 'into me' and I do not know how being short enough was charming, but that definitely got me thinking to how some people are naturally charming, and how some people 'just don't got it'.

I am unsure whether I am charming or if I 'don't got it', but these girls definitely 'got it' -

And Eric, perhaps I'll see you next year, same place?

P.S: More Canada Day updates soon.

vinaigrette.

2010-06-30T19:18:00.001-04:00

I am a student who lives alone (do not stalk me, I will be scared). Naturally this would translate into Kraft Dinner or starvation. However my fellow bloggers, Gord and Hilary, who I believe are master chefs sleeked under journalism student exteriors, have ignited a little spark in my non-adventurous life and I am now inspired to cook and make proper meals for myself. Hilary brings treats for the office once a week and I always listen to Gord when he talks about his many food loves. I have officially caught the cooking bug.

I have definitely been thinking about eating healthier (away with you A&W fries!), making packed lunches instead of buying bagels at Roosters, and using my stainless steel cookware more often. I am excited to embark on this journey of food-ism and cooking-ery (words that will see to my exit from the journalistic world). I didn't know when to start, but today at our biweekly meeting, we found out that we are to have an office potluck at the end of July and I see this as the perfect opportunity to begin learning how to cook. I will have a couple of weeks to feel my way around the kitchen before presenting my co-workers with a dish made from scratch and rimmed with love. It is my chance to make up for 20 years of take-out and instant meals, this is it!

However I do not know how comfortable my co-workers would feel about eating something made by me, especially since I am outwardly confessing my lack of intelligence in the kitchen. But I am here to tell them, "Fear not, for my dish will be amazing!" or at least I'll try my very best. Maybe they'd like to know that I put together a salad for myself tonight and it turned out great. Fine, granted that all it took was opening a bag of Dole's Jardin de Campagne and slicing up some tomatoes and cucumbers, but hey! Those cucumbers were sliced magnificently and the eggs were cooked to perfection. And maybe the pumpkin vinaigrette helped a little, but everything else was me!

I have to start somewhere...

denim and dresses.

2010-06-29T21:07:00.003-04:00

Retail Therapy. I was never a believer in retail therapy. But today as I slummed pathetically through Rideau after a day at work, the racks of Aritzia and Gap seemed so welcoming, I could do nothing but succumb to the paisley shirts of summer fashion. I am now a firm advocate for retail therapy. There is no need to spend credit for a therapist, go to Zara or Forever 21, swipe that debit card and watch your worries and woes fly away!

Perhaps it was a rare downer mood swing or the fact that I got paid today, but whatever it was, the person that passed her debit card over the cash counter, was me. I swear it was a total out-of-body experience. Whatever third party experience it was, I walked out of Rideau a couple of wardrobe additions richer and many dollars poorer. Many many dollars.

In my utter defense, I am not a shopaholic. Normally, I am a frigid and frugal buyer. I always take my time and think about my potential purchases instead of letting in on every inkling and want, which would probably lead to buying more Ikea hangers. But eff that, not today. Today I bought everything I wanted. Hells yes to denim and dresses. Everything I saw and liked, I bought. And guess what? It felt damn good. I love buying clothes with my own money. I feel accomplished, independent, grown up and stylish.

Warning; this feeling of fulfilment wears off. Okay, maybe I do not feel very smart and responsible four hours after purchasing three Zara outfits. I am now quivering and hiding under the bed because I could have paid off my phone bill with what I spent today. Why did I give in?! I used to be strong! I used to be able to look a Gap shirt down with a hard on stare, and not let it overtake me. With all this money, I now feel powerless against the shopping demons. How did I lose my control?
It is that word I tell you, that stupid stupid word: SALE. Grrr.

Iman's Retail Therapy Advice - bring your mom.

the job.

2010-06-28T14:33:00.003-04:00

I am exhausted. I just got back from Caitlin's where we had a sleepover last night and we went to have sushi for lunch. It was a sleepover with my friends from work and we had such a fun time. We played board games (or attempted to), ate snacks, gossiped and watched Clueless. I ended up sleeping between LJ and Caitlin. It's been a pretty hectic week at work, but I do realize that I have mentioned my job a couple of times without really explaining what or where it is. A few people have wondered what kind of job is so important that I am willing to cut my trip to KL short, but just let me tell you that the job I have this summer is so amazing, I was willing to not even go back to KL at all!

So what I'm doing this summer is working with Carleton's Student Experience Office (SEO). I am a part of what is called the Summer Orientation Leaders, and we are a team that works during the non-academic portion of the year doing tasks that range from portfolios (more about that in a bit) to Orientation days to miscellaneous duties.We worked at convocation a couple of weeks back and we just had our very first Summer O session on Saturday. We are a crew of 9 people, and we represent the different faculties on campus. We have at least one member from every faculty.

We work from 8:30 to 4:30, 5 days a week. So it is very much akin to having a full time job. I definitely feel tired as hell after a great day at work, so I suppose this shows that I will thrive at a nine to five job. Hah. But I do sometimes feel that my life revolves around work. I get up in the morning, go to work, come back from work, sleep, and then the cycle repeats. But I love it! The bulk of our job is divided in two; Portfolio work and Summer O sessions.

Each of us have been assigned a personal portfolio this summer. A portfolio is a project that you have total responsibility over and we use this summer to get the project completed and ready to roll come September. For example, I am in charge of the Alternative Spring Break (ASB) portfolio, and what I am tasked to do this summer is to plan the three different trips that ASB participants will go through next year. My planning covers all the destinations, pre-departures, readings, fund raising, logistics and programming. It is a lot of work, but I honestly love it. I participated in ASB last year, and it has really impacted my life. This year I'm working to make it bigger, better and so much more rewarding. Another example of a portfolio would be Hilary's, she's responsible for communication and outreach, and it's targeted to parents. So Hilary's baby this summer is the Parents Handbook, which she has recently completed (!), planning the Parents reception during move in weekend and writing the Enlightened Parent Newsletter. There are 8 portfolios in total; Caitlin's Fall Orientation, Laura Jane's Leadership development, Gord's Student Affairs, Hilary's Communication and Outreach, Ify's Community Service Learning, Diandra's International Affairs, Sarah's Student Involvement and my Alternative Spring Break round them all up. We're usually working on our portfolio work or practicing for our Summer O sessions.

Summer O is a one day orientation service that Carleton offers to incoming first year students. This is where incoming first years and their parents can come by to Carleton's amazing campus and receive a threshold of information, go on campus tours as well as meet great current student aka the Summer O team :) For the Summer O presentations, we're paired up. I got paired up with my lovely Hilary and we are responsible for the parents during the session. We talk to them about our two presentations and then give them special parent tours. I thought I was going to be chicken shit awful and the parents were going to hate me, but based on my performance on Saturday, I think parents may actually like me! I guess our bosses knew something I didn't when they assigned me to the parent group. I have always loved parents, but I just did not know it they'd love me in return.

So yes, that is my wonderfully terrific job this summer. I feel so lucky and blessed to be working with amazing people in a great office. I finally feel like I'm getting involved on campus. All year long I've felt as if I was not doing enough and I did not know how I was supposed to contribute to Carleton community, but walking around in my red polo with my name tag on my lanyard last Saturday, with a huge group of parents listening to me as I told them about the beautiful academic quad, I felt my feet become one with the Carleton grass. It's like I came home and it completed my little world.

kaitlin's 19th

2010-06-21T23:02:00.001-04:00

I was very excited as I got on the 96 to Kanata to celebrate Kaitlin's 19th with a girly tea party last Saturday. Quite honestly, I've never been to a tea party before, so I didn't know what to wear. I resolved it with a pair of blue jeans and a pink polo dress shirt, and armed with a pair of great earrings for Kaitlin, I made my way all the way to the Erles. I haven't been to see the Erles as much as I would like to since coming back home to Ottawa, so I was super excited to see everyone. Once I got to Kaitlin's, I met all her friends whom I've heard so much about, but never had the chance to meet. It was really great to finally be able to put faces and voices to the names. I adore all the girls and was really happy that Kaitlin invited me over.

For those who do not know, Kaitlin Erle is a very special person in my little world. So are her amazing family. The Erles have somewhat adopted me this past year. I met Kailtin and Aunt Monica at the Public Affairs Summer Orientation last summer, and we were smart enough to exchange numbers at the end of the day, and we've been close ever since. I hung out with Kailtin a lot last summer and spent all the holidays with the Erles. I feel really lucky to have met such great people, and I definitely have Summer O to thank for that! (It's quite funny, because I'm working for Summer O this year. More about that later.)

Along with the great company and love I always get at the Erles, I think it's Aunt Monica's baked goods that I love most. Halfway through our cheese fondue party, Aunt Monica said something about there being a 'cake', and I shot up in seat because her cakes and cookies are to die for. But I liked the fondue too. I've never had cheese fondue before, I've only ever had chocolate fondue, so this being my first time at a fondue party I was a very silly noob. There were pears, apples, grapes, bread, crackers and a few other things, and we were supposed to stick them in the cheese pot with caution, because once you lost your pear/apple/piece of bread in the pot, you're going to have a very tough time taking it out.

Since it was a girly party, we had pink drinks and the table was sprinkled with pretty and sparkly confetti. I loved it! We all had tea after the fondue and it felt more like a tea party when we were all putting milk and sugar in our pretty teacups, but I must say that the highlight of the party was when Aunt Monica brought out the cookie monster cupcakes! I have never seen anything so cute and delicious in my life! They were chocolate cupcakes that had blue frosting, white chocolate eyes and a cookie that served as a mouth. I definitely wanted more, but the obvious pudge I had at the end of the party made me consciously stop from reaching over and grabbing another one of those wonderful cookie monster cupcakes.

The rest of the party went by really quickly after the cupcakes were brought out because I think everyone was more relaxed and comfortable (it was the first time most of us had met each other!), and everyone was definitely chatty after. I really liked all of Kaitlin's friends and I hope that we can get together over the summer and meet up again. The summer has undoubtedly been busy, so though the it may lie fiercely and uncharted in front of me, I will have to take some time to chill out this summer and enjoy another cup of tea with a group of great friends.

Have an amazing week!

KL, the second album.

2010-06-20T19:51:00.002-04:00

One of the very few people I looked forward to seeing the most when I was in KL was Zaleha. We've been facebook-ing, skyping and texting each other the entire year while I was away and she even sent me the perfect birthday package for my 20th. So it was more than magnificent when we finally met up for a sleepover. Being around E'a is always so much fun and this time it was extra juicy because she caught me up on all the things I missed while I was away (yes, I know what YOU did!). We did not stay up very late (as if I ever stay up late) and ended up falling asleep while watching Glee.

The next morning we drove up to Janda Baik and spent some time there before dropping E'a off at her parents' house. E'a lives in the same place my grandparents do, so we definitely knew our way around. One of the mandatory spots when going to Janda Baik is Simpang Tiga. Simpang Tiga is a house-turned-breakfast-hot-spot in this tiny Malay village. I think it is safe to say that Simpang Tiga has the best Nasi Lemak known to mankind.

For my non-Malaysian friends; you should know what Nasi Lemak is because I must have already told you a billion times. It's just about the most delicious dish ever to grace my presence. My mouth waters just thinking about the coconut-ish rice, topped with sambal, fried anchovies and peanuts, cucumbers and a royal egg. I don't know how they do it, but the Simpang Tiga folks always always always make me eat at least two servings of Nasi Lemak. Mom and dad like the teh-tarik and their roti canai is pretty high up on my list too.

After a stellar breakfast, we brought E'a over to my grandparents' house and we saw the tree I had 'broken' the year before. I did not 'break' the entire tree, please know that I was stealthily climbing the tree when a branch broke and saw to my instantaneous crashing to the ground. It was not pleasant. We sent E'a home and we said goodbye through a series of hugs and kisses. I miss E'a a lot.

It was also nice to see my grandparents' house again. I missed the old place and walking around the property really brought me back to my tree-climbing, river-swimming, bonfire-dancing days. A lot of my childhood was spent in Janda Baik, and after not having seen it for so long, it was satisfying yet sad, to see everything again.

We also managed to creep in a visit to my paternal grandmother, Tok Wan, that weekend as well. I thought it would be fun to get dressed up in our traditional baju kurung, and I somehow got Amal in a baju kurung as well.

Later, we came home and retreated to the TV room to watch The Princess and The Frog. I watched it in Ottawa, but because I possess no will power against Disney movies, I watched it again. It was fun to lounge around with my brothers, sister and mom again. Those were one of the things I missed most when I was gone. The movie became even better when we brought out the rambutan and started snacking midway through Mama Odie's song. Tearing open my first rambutan of the year (I know it was April, but we can't grow rambutan in Ottawa..) was delightful, and biting into it, I could not imagine how I survived so long without it. But as always, when you stuff your face with something so quickly, you tend to get a bit sick of it too. So after eating what it seemed like 41 rambutans, I gave in and napped on the couch till The Princess and The Frog ended.

We ended the weekend with a trip to Ikea, and I must say that their menu is larger than Ottawa's Ikea. I know the Canadians pride themselevs on having great Swedish meatballs, but I cannot contribute to that pride because I don't know how it tastes like. I only know how the Malaysian-Swedish meatballs taste, and gosh darn, they're good. I knew that this would be my one and only trip to Ikea during my stay in KL, so what did I do but stuff my face (yet again) with everything. If my memory serves me right, I had a half a dozen wings, meatballs, the salad, some salmon and muffins. Ikea's chived salmon is simply divine. Could you please go have some for me? Thank you, you are lovely.

kinki-ed.

2010-06-20T17:33:00.003-04:00

After a heftily warm day drizzled with some slight rain, I walked away from the Ottawa Dragon Boat Race at Mooney's Bay towards the Prince Of Wales bus stop. Yesterday was my first time at the Dragon Boat races here in Ottawa, and I must say that I was quite impressed with the event. There were all sorts of teams, ranging from embassies to corporate companies to friends who wanted something fun to do over the BBQ weekend. My friends and I sat on the bleachers for a good portion of the afternoon while we waited for the Malaysian team. It was sunny and absolutely hot. I felt like i was transported 15,000 kilometers back into the humid heat of KL for a second. But the hollering and hooting brought me back to Mooney's Bay. Since we were in Canada, as always, when the sun comes out, so do the pasty white bodies. And I was somewhat given an array of bodies to feast my eyes upon.

But I didn't manage to stay for the Malaysian team's race because I had a date with Caitlin at the Market. So I left a few races before the 'Malaysia Truly Asia' team came out. Aliya told me they did pretty well, so that's good to hear. I believe they won first place in the embassy category and that is something to be proud of. And the fact that they were the only team in the embassy category does not take away the taste of sweet sweet victory, default wins are the best :)

The highlight of my Saturday was my date with Caitlin. We decided to go for a sushi supper in order to substitute for the lack of male attention neither of us were getting (not that I mind not getting male attention. Life is simpler without it actually) as well as being on a Charlatan story adventure, we found ourselves hiding out at Kinki Sushi in the Market. It was a splendid evening, filled with a good friend, great food, and amazing conversation. But then again I always have a fun time with my Teed, so it was expected. But I definitely had my doubts about Kinki Sushi. Being the 'thrifty' student I am, I usually go to the all-you-can-eat sushi buffets. My usual spots are Sushi Kan down by Baseline and Sakura Sushi in the Meadowlands, but when my beautiful Charlatan prospectives editor, came up to me and asked if I could do a sushi review, I jumped at the idea. I love eating, even more so when sushi is being served, so I was game. The assignment was to eat at three different sushi venues, and compile my reviews into an article for the Charlatan. So, seeing that Caitlin and I were in need of each other's company, I asked her out.

I must say that I was pleasantly surprised. There was definitely a great selection of sushi. But there were no generic 'japanese' dishes, no udon, soba, rice or tepanyaki. It was very sushi based. We ended up ordering twice and ate 6 different types of sushi and a salad. Each type of sushi came in 6 pieces and the salad was topped off with sesame seaweed. We had the Kinki sushi, Surf's Up, Naughty Tiger (rawrr!), Rainbow, Yam-Yam and Tsunami. They were all really great but my personal favourite was the one with the soft shell crab in it. They served the sushi with little orange slices and I regretfully say that it turned me off quite a bit because the orange juice somehow seeped into the rice and instead of tasting avocado or spicy mayo, I had this out-of-place orange taste in my mouth.

Another thing that disappointed me slightly was the fact that Kinki does not take debit. They do have an ATM machine, but when I went to withdraw money, it rejected my card and said that I should check my 'financial situation'. I do not think I have a financial situation, but thank goodness I had some extra cash on me. All in all our bill was slightly under $100. Each sushi dish ranged between $11 to $15, the salad was $9. I think it was a good meal, quite on the pricey side, but because of the good quality sushi they served us, I will not complain, too much.

I would definitely go to Kinki Sushi again, but not in a heartbeat. Eating at Kinki would be something that I would have to save up for, but I know that if I had the money, and if it was an 'occasion' sort of meal, I would eat at Kinki. Being down in the Market on a Saturday evening is pretty stellar too. Oh, I feel so posh now. No, I actually feel very Kinki.

round 2.

2010-06-09T21:17:00.001-04:00

Yesterday, I learnt a few things about myself. It is quite odd, you expect to learn new things everyday, but you'd think that by the time you were 20, you'd already know pretty much everything about yourself. But as I screwed up my laundry yesterday, I learnt that I am shit at doing laundry. Apparently I did not know that you were supposed to put detergent in the washing machine before the clothes. I, a total domestic goddess, dumped my entire load of clothes and then sprinkled detergent on the monstrous mound, and expected the wash to be done in 45 minutes. It did not work out between me and the washing machine. My clothes did not wash properly and I was subjected to hand washing 3 weeks worth of clothes and wringing them until they were acceptable enough for the dryer. However the washing machine's best friend, dryer, abhors me as well. At the end of the hour, my clothes were still damp and disgusting. I wasted 2 dollars and now as I sit and type this out, my clothes are going for round 2 in the dryer after sitting out for the night. Perhaps the fact that some of my t-shirts had less colour on them and some of blouses had extra colour on them, would deter to the fact that I am crap at laundry.

The second thing I learnt was that I am not very objective to my flaws. When I do not do something well, or accomplish it with utmost rigor, I get very mad at myself and may sometimes even subject to a five minute rage-in-the-head or an irritated slap to the knee. I always knew that I disliked not being good...at anything really. But it surprised me that when I discovered that I was shit at laundry, I began to silently vow to quit from doing laundry ever again (as students, we know that this pledge is highly unlikely). I am not a quitter, and the fact that I wanted to throw all my clothes out of the window and commit to a nudist island (they don't wear clothes, thus no laundry) came to me as a funny surprise.

And the last thing I learnt about myself yesterday was that I enjoy cleaning my room at night. And in the morning. And in the afternoon.

You'd be surprised at how surprising you can be to yourself.

Yes, one last thing; my good friend and amazing co-worker and stellar partner, Hilary, has a great food blog where she writes about her entertaining discoveries and joys of cooking. Read it here. She's a year ahead of me in J-skool, and I think that working together this summer will let some of her brilliant writing, fantastic photography skills and fashion style rub off on me :) This is a shout out to you Duff-Duff. *Boop*

huzzah.

2010-06-07T16:54:00.000-04:00

I MADE IT ON TO THE DEANS' HONOUR LIST!

Alhamdulillah, I am so happy right now, I cannot srunch out any words :)

Also received the Lester Bowles Pearson scholarship :)

Yay for keeners :)

Go Carleton :)

laser tag.

2010-06-06T23:54:00.000-04:00

I should stop. I know you want me to stop. I would if you all would just stop sending me guilt vibes from across the Atlantic ocean.

KL mari.

2010-06-06T20:48:00.004-04:00

I think my Malaysian trip deserves its own collection of related blog posts. Long overdue, I know, but at least I'm putting them up. You should buy me a cake. Or perhaps many little cakes. So that would be cupcakes. I digress. So how this is going to happen is proposed as so: I have 10 iPhoto albums of my trip back to KL. What I am hoping to do is write up a blog post for each album, thus it shall result to 10 posts, a lot of happy readers/friends, and one less-guilt-ridden Iman. This sounds like an appropriate plan.

After 33 hours aboard three different planes, I finally made it safe and sound back into my momma's armpits. Mom, dad and Amal met me at the airport and we sped off to eat the best nasi biryani in KL. I honestly think the moment I sunk my teeth into Insaf's honey chicken, I finally realized that I was home. The next few days went by pretty quickly. My jet lag wore off within a couple of days. Mom never lets me sleep in, but she was a doll and let me snooze it out for two days and on the third day she made me get out of bed and said "you have to stop sleeping! we only have 29 days left before you go back!". Silly mom. Amal had her viral warts taken out a few days after I got back, read about it here, and I must say that my sister-ly inhibitions dissappeared the moment I told her to get off her hospital bed, fresh out of surgery, so I could lay my jet-lagged head on her horribly hard hospital pillow. Poor girl. I made it up to her by giving her lots of gifts. I'm pretty sure she's gone through the bag of jelly beans I bought.

I had a pretty easy time buying gifts for my family, but the person I struggled most on was my dad. I had no freaking idea what to get him. What do you get for a dad who already has everything he could ever want?t *coughs*best-eldest-child-ever*coughs* In the end I retreated to the Carleton bookstore and got him some Carleton gear. Fine, a Carleton Dad t-shirt. I wanted to go all out and get him the Carleton tie and few other things, but my debit card just could not take the stress. Poor thing. On the morning I was supposed to fly back, I had to do crazy last minute shopping. This is because I had exams all the way till the 16th. My flight was on the 17th, and logically that would leave me no time to do quality shopping, because as my fellow nerds know, nothing nothing nothing gets in the way of studying. Not even shopping. More so if you are a girl. So the morning of the 17th, Aliya and I practially ran all over Ottawa finding things on mom's list. I must declare that Walmart is a complete life saver. I know this is so lame, buying gifts from Walmart, but hey, if the gift-receipients do not know that what they're getting is from Walmart, there's no harm in it really. I ended up buying the bulk of my suitcase's content at Walmart. It is economical, I know you agree with me. Shush.

After Amal was discharged from the hospital, we had Jowee over for dinner. Now this sounds like a lie. I should not say 'we had Jowee over for dinner', the more apt statement should be 'we took Jowee out to dinner', because we do not eat meals at home. I think it is because mom does not believe in fully stocked fridges. The first night I got back, I was awake at 3AM, due to my ever ridiculous sleep pattern, and ventured up to the kitchen (yes, our kitchen is upstairs. Confused? Do not worry, lots of people are) and when I peeked into the fridge, I expected to see an array of delicious food, but alas, what do I see but a pack of baby carrots and a couple bottles of water. I went back to bed with a cupcake, it was quite sad. Oh well. We brought Jowee to Hadramount (sp?) at Bukit Bintang (for non-Malay speakers, it translates to Starry Hill, tres cool non?) and since it was my first time there too, I put my faith into my parents' apt ordering skills and it resulted to a highly successful dinner. the best thing about this dinner was not having my best friend there (although it does rank pretty high up there), but the discovery of a magical golden teapot that never stops pouring tea until you pay the bill. Quite mystical really. That teapot honestly made my day.

A couple of other things generally made my days back in KL seemingly wonderful, my sister being one of them. I do not know how I survived 10 months without her wittily soulful cranky banter, her ridiculous excuse of a fashion sense and her compliance to giving me hugs whenever I had my hands strectched out for one, not caring what time of day it was. Yes, my trip to KL was supremely stellar, but it was the people I was with that made all the more amazing. One of them being Amal crank-ass Azman.

And because I am so nice, and I feel bad for abandoning you, here's a photo of the KL skyline from our house.

For Sami Haddad, because he is such a great guy and graduating from Carleton is a big enough accomplishment to have a mention on this random, yet highly entertaining blog ;) You are the greatest papa le pew, thanks for starting me off on the right foot. All the best in everything! - a skunk.

we rock.

2010-06-06T18:35:00.001-04:00

I woke up this morning a whole hell of aches and pains. I had to roll over and contemplate taking some pain killers for my back or not. When I was back in KL, my doctor gave me a whole cache of drugs (ooohhhh) for those days when my back just feels like acting up and all bitchy. I decided against the pills and just started to do some yoga-like positions on the floor, I heard a creak and then all my muscles relaxed as if they've just had the best pee-release in the world. Yes, I did just make a piss metaphor.

The reason as to why I had such a stressed out back was because I went rock climbing on Friday! It was amazing, probably because it was my first time, but I am also over excited for anything anyway, you should know this by now. It was a team builder activity for the team and I highly encourage corporations to take their employees rock climbing. You learn so many skills, you get to 'depend' on someone for safety and honestly, it's just a whole heck of fun.

We left the office at 10:00 AM and headed over to a bunch of sketchy looking warehouses. I looked around for the walls, but I just saw loading docks..turns out the walls were in one of the warehouses.I changed into my sweats and realized that the clothes I brought were more ideal for a sleepover, my sweats matched and it looked as if I was wearing pajamas. Oh well, I won't complain, I got to rock climb. We were put into pairs and I clutched on to Caitlin, and she to me. I had such a great time. I managed to scale up a few walls on my own and I can proudly say that I'd make a very fanciful rock climber. I'd definitely want to do it again.

We learnt how to belay (the person that stays at bottom and pulls or gives slack, as well as makes sure that the climber does not fall on his/her ass) and how to climb efficiently. As a group, we had fun watching the guys climb the walls, in limited clothing, and with the right amount of muscles :) I learnt a lot about my teammates/ friends, and I'm sure they also learnt that I eat a lot of fries. After climbing for about an hour and a half, we headed over to Costco for lunch, and might I say that their caramel ice cream is to die for.

I'd never thought that I'd be brave enough to climb walls hoisted up only by a piece of rope, but now that I have, I must say that I enjoyed it so much, that I'm actually going rock climbing again next month :)

and bam!

2010-06-06T12:43:00.005-04:00

I don't get out much, so this is all you'd probably see of Ottawa.

I look crazy in my screen shot, but I promise I'm not in real life.

empty promises, I apologize.

2010-06-03T17:47:00.003-04:00

There is no saying as to how many death threats I have received these past two weeks. Murderous emails sit at the bottom of my inbox, simply waiting to be replied. There are so many missed calls from people on my phone because I snore as my phone rings. Yes, I have not been a very good and communicative human being these past two weeks. I am sure that so many of you (I'm sure there are not that many) have wondered as to where I have disappeared to since returning home to Ottawa. I suppose this is mostly due to the fact that I have been absent on Facebook and minimally tweeting, a few have said that I must surely have fallen off the face of the planet, so to put all those scary death rumours to rest, I have made you a vlog. Kindly enjoy.

the last airport.

2010-05-20T03:01:00.000-04:00

I sit a very lonely and tired little Iman in Vancouver's International Airport. The hardest part of my trip is now over, I always dread the flight to and from an Asian city to a non Asian city because it's filled with Asians. Not that I have anything against Asians of course, I am one (no, I am not brown), but because of the abundance of tv shows that are in Mandarin and Cantonese, of which I obviously do not understand. Plus the Asian flights are always the longest. I just flew from Hong Kong to Vancouver and it took 12 hours. That's half a day. That's a lot of time. I slept through most of it, or tried to at least. I watched a couple of good movies..did I? Shoot, I can't remember now. I know that my flight from KL to Hong Kong, I watched Brothers. It was amazing. And then I think I watched some E! shows and Project Runway. Oh yes, and The Last Station, it's a movie about Leo Tolstoy. Chris Plummer, Helen Mirren and the yummy James McAvoy were in it. We landed before I could finish, so I'm hoping they play it on my Vancouver-Ottawa flight.

Wow, don't I sound like a jet setter?! But truthfully this jet setter has a spinning head, a very tired back and a slightly scratched mac. All these make me a little sad and upset. My mom got me a Macbook Pro while I was back in KL and I was ever so excited about it. But we didn't get the sleeve for the macbook because I already have one in Ottawa. So I had put my Mac in my carry on and somewhere between KL, Hong Kong and Vancouver, it gained a little scratch. I am so dissapointed. Oh well, these are only material things I suppose.

I think my parents are quite impressed with the fact that I can get myself across continents entirely on my own. Hey, for those who think it's easy carrying two 20kg bags, handling visas, boarding passes and passports on your own is easy, I scoff in your face. It's a challenge, even more so when you're constantly being intimidated by these big burly security guards. When I was boarding the plane at Hong Kong to Vancouver, I was picked for a 'random' security check. They looked through my passport with these magnifying glasses, asked me questions and looked at me up and down. Random, sure. I was the only scarved person on the flight. I am not suggesting anything, but yes, random. And while I was pulled aside for this security check, 7 people cut my line. Hah! That made me quite annoyed.

Oh well, its ok. I am fine. I have all my bags, and I'm sitting in a booth, charging my computer while sipping on a French Vanilla from Tim Hortons and nibbling on some youghurt and timbits (I've missed my daily dose of Timmies!) 90210 is quickly loading (as opposed to the horendously slow internet I had to endure back in KL) and I already called my mom to let her know I am fine.

And now I would like you to know that I am fine, and that I am very sorry for not updating more when I was KL. I was on a holiday, it's perfectly understandable, don't you think so? Well now that I'm back in Ottawa (well not for another 17 hours at least, but oh well) and the summer lays magnificently upon me, I shall have many things to post up.

I'm already missing everyone in KL, especially my mom. Oh sheez, what a cry baby Iman! But I am extrenely estatic to be back in Ottawa. Alright folks, 90210 has loaded and is ready for screening. I eat a timbit in your honor.

oh jb.

2010-05-16T12:21:00.001-04:00

I unashamedly adore Justin Bieber, his music, his hair flips and his SIXTEEN year old self.

I will honestly punch the next person who says he is younger than his real age.

You just got to get in the moment, eenie meenie minny mo any of his songs and I swear he'll run away with your love, because that song you're listening to, should be his.

JB is the BB of this generation, face it.

snap hunt.

2010-05-12T02:10:00.000-04:00

On a marvellous warm Tuesday, I took a train and went to Central Market. I had a wondrous photo hunt. This is how I see KL; It's raw, loud and unbelievably captivating.

KL is enchantingly ugly. I adore it.

extreme humidity.

2010-05-06T11:16:00.005-04:00

I wanted to see the beach. So mom and dad took me to the east coast; Kemaman, Terengganu. My very first solo road trip with my parents sans my brothers and sister. It was an amazing day. I got my sea breeze, dad got his fish chips and mom got a very long car ride. So here, a pictorial collection of our day.

all summer long.

2010-05-04T12:25:00.007-04:00

Disclaimer: I honestly do not feel like I would personally ever have a boyfriend. I am not looking for a boy to waste my time, I need someone who's going to make the rest of my moments worthwhile. Yes, now read on. And remember, this is for fun, so chill.

I am carefully treading the footsteps of my two friends; Jowee and Aman, who have both written really great lists. We all know what a sucker I am for lists and how my world revolves around my insane compulsion for list-writing. They've both penned two lists - why they would make an awesome girl/boyfriend and why they would not make an awesome girl/boyfriend. I've read through both versions and I am now utterly compelled to scribble down my ten cents and add it to the pile. So, here it goes;

Why Iman Azman would not make an awesome girlfriend.

The bad news is always best heard first.

Note: Just like Aman, my future boyfriend will be shortened to mfbf. Fancy that.

- I am utterly bossy. I like things to be done my way and will become physically annoyed if my system and guidelines are disrupted for mediocre fancies.

- There needs to be a chase. I don't like things handed to me easily. If there is no challenge in the relationship, I'll get easily bored and mfbf will soon see his ass tossed to the side and I'll be off dawdling to another adventure. It sounds ultimately harsh, but like I said, I like the thrill of chasing.

- I seem to have a tendency to get overly excited about trite events which would send me into frenzies of obsessions and non-stop gabs of excitement. Mfbf will have to reprogram his wiring in order to put up with my excessive energy. Or he could just invest in a really good fly zapper.

- I am a highly independent person and mfbf might have his ego slightly bruised when I reject or kindly decline his offers that would skid me off my track of independence.

- I have a pretty big ego. But worry not mfbf, it does not need to be fed.

- I enjoy spending money on vintage clothes and books. Mfbf will not be amused with how much I am willing to pay for a pair of leather oxfords.

- There may be moments where a bad word, controversial fact or slightly pervy notion might slip off my reasonably quick tongue. I do not make apologies for the thoughts or beliefs I have. This might not sit well with mfbf if he is not open to fervent discussion and endless talks about the beauty of communism.

- I enjoy current pop culture music. I dig tunes from Justin Bieber, Kesha, Chris Brown and Miley Cyrus. I have them on my iPod and love singing off key to their songs. I will not give up my indulgence for mainstream music simply because it is mainstream. Mfbf might think it's disgusting on how I can digest Baby 43 times a day, but he's got to understand that I like what I like.

- I cannot sing to save my life. Even humming might warrant me to a death sentence. Therefore mfbf must accept the fact that I am musically retarded.

- I am fascinated by bodily functions and wounds. Mfbf will most definitely be disgusted by my unladylike fascinations, but I honestly like to look at scabs and viral warts. Mfbf might have to constrain his disgust as I stare at stitches, blood or phlegm. I apologize for my disgusting infatuations.

- Mfbf might have to endure days of watching TV shows nonstop. Shows like OTH, 90210, GG, Jersey Shore, Modern Family and mounds upon mounds of Glee.

- I don't cook. I can't cook.

- I need to know that mfbf cruises on my intellectual wavelength as I abhor ignorant and stupid people.

- If I don't like mfbf's friends, I'd tell him.

- I do not understand the thrill of football/soccer, it bores me. However, I am easily entertained by other sports, and may be swayed to support whichever team mfbf fancies.

- I have a fairly complicated family.

- I cannot sleep in silence and must have some sort of noise travelling around that would soon enough lull me to sleep.

- I am a grief stricken, scared and bad driver.

- I tell un-funny jokes and say the most ridiculous sentences. Enough to make mfbf feel slightly annoyed.

- I think I have a slight case of OCD (obsessive compulsive disorder) and everything needs to be a specific way, things need to be arranged, colour coded and proper, if they're not, I go slightly mental in the head.

- I must correct grammar, especially if it's the verbal sort. It's a curse.

- I am quite shallow. Fine, very shallow. Hey! Looks count! You know it too.

Why Iman Azman would make an awesome girlfriend.

This one may be a bit harder to write. Pssh.

- I am a ball of constant energy and mfbf will have hours of fun when I'm with him. I'll come up with a million things to do, and then give 50 reasons on why we should do them all.

- I am smart and am becoming increasingly intelligent.

- My randomly hilarious thoughts make up for the lack of humor my jokes do not possess.

- I can say 'I love you' in six languages.

- I know that beneath this fairly innocent exterior, mfbf will most probably like what he sees.

- I am flexible in movie watching, music listening, book reading and place going. I'm up for anything.

- I like eating. Oh, I love eating. I am not scared to eat.

- I know how to use apostrophes and consciously make sure my knowledge is put into practice.

- If I am wrong, and if I know it, I'll apologize. I'm not one to be all high and mighty when I'm wrong.

- My laugh is loud and giggly enough to power three houses.

- I enjoy sharing everything my little head processes. Mfbf will always be in the loop and can depend on me for always being honest with him about anything and everything.

- I don't expect him to pay when we go out. I enjoy the beauty of an egalitarian relationship (perhaps this should be under a con..).

- I'm a superb organizer and cleaner. I am most certainly not messy. Mfbf might suggest that we stay in and clean his apartment, and I would probably go for it.

- I am not a bitch. I'd treat mfbf with utmost respect, care and unrelenting trust.

- Neither am I clingy or possessive. He'd have his space, and I'd have mine, thus clingy-ness would not be an issue. I do not believe in checking up on mfbf, it screams paranoia folks. I don't get jealous easily.

- My smile would make his day.

- I have a weird and partially crooked (yes, I am using crooked) sense of humor.

- I am not afraid to stand up for myself, for mfbf and what ever else it is that needs to be stood up for.

- I don't drink, smoke, or tread into places where I know I shouldn't be.

- I can be somewhat entertaining and turn on the adorable switch when it's called for and I have this sensibly weird ability to melt away the the iciest of hearts. Mfbf will be stress free and ever so zen.

- I have my whole heart to give, every inch of my soul to bare and wouldn't ever cheat on mfbf. Cheating is for wimps and people who have low self esteem.

- I am uberly confident in my strengths and am aware of my weaknesses.

- I love ice hockey :)

- I do not like nonsensical gifts or over the top romantic gestures. I am practical, no nonsense and straightforward. Mfbf will save a fortune on teddy bears and balloons. This does not mean I am not romantic, I am, a little bit. But nothing extravagantly embarrassing.

- I have somehow been blessed with a fairly stellar gift for the written word, and I have the ability to ink my thoughts pretty well.

- I tend to talk really fast, get excited easily and randomly say hello to mfbf for no apparent reason.

- I say 'hello' randomly.

- Though I don't apologize for things that are not my fault, I say 'sorry' often as it is part of my daily vocabulary. I say 'thank you' a lot as well. I thank machines for their services (now this should really be a con..)

- I give amazing hugs.

- Even though I don't like receiving unpractical and cheesy tokens of utter devotion, I must say that I give pretty good gifts. Mfbf will be quite impressed with what my little mind can come up with.

- I know how to climb trees. Useful for those tree-climbing days mfbf and I will have.

- I am not short. For a malay girl, I am fairly statuesque, or so I'd like to believe.

- I get along really well with people. New people, old people, old-old people, parents, friends, you name it, I can handle it. People tend to like me too. I think.

- I am consistently on time and would never blow mfbf for something less important than he is.

- I'm a good secret keeper.

- My logic has allowed to me dish out pretty usable advice, thus mfbf will be glad to know that he is with a very wise, thoughtful and analytical person. Cheh.

- I'd love my mfbf more than anyone else ever could and would. That should honestly be enough.

These lists might swirl out of control if I don't stop now, and you'd probably not read it till the end. So here, here's to the men that lost me, the ones that you constantly think about and this amazing blogger-reader relationship. Now let our glasses tink against each other. Good girl. Or boy.

ah, i got you good.

2010-05-04T08:24:00.004-04:00

The rabbit's out of the bag. I'm back in KL. I got back about 2 weeks ago, and I leave in 2 weeks. A rushed vacation, I know, but I've got to get back to Ottawa for something special and wondrously exciting. I don't think I can say what it is just yet, but when I can, I'll let you know. My trip back has been great so far. I've been cruising around the city, met up with a few good friends and I think it's safe to safe that my Malaysian food quota is partially achieved. I've been to the malls, seen the new highways, and ate at the big restaurants. Feels like I never left.

It's been magnificent seeing everyone, and surprising a few people. I went to Adni today to have lunch with some friends, and unbeknownst to my aging memory, it was lunch break for all the students as well. I bumped into a few familiar faces, and let me just say, that I have missed the quality of Malaysian hugs. It was fun having people come up and say hi to me, I felt sort of like a low-key Regina Spektor if you will.

I've been busy renewing my passport and my Canadian student permit. I renewed my passport at the Wangsa Maju branch and it only took me an hour or so to get the whole thing done. Sure I had to be there by 6.45am, but shucks, it was worth it. Beats having to stay in line for decades and wait two hours for the darn thing to get ready. I was out of there by 8.30 and treated myself to brunch with my mom and Amal at Dome. It's definitely exciting to be back. Though I have to constantly remind myself to dress climate-appropriate, other than that, everything else has been supreme. I am slightly happier about my passport picture this time around because I look less spastic and more human-like in my photo this time. This makes me happy and utterly content. I have had to explain many times during the past 5 years on why I do not look like the walrus that is brutally printed on my passport. I was glad to see walrus-girl go.

As happy as I am to have walrus-girl diminished from my thoughts, I am even happier to be back. KL is beautiful, wondrous and full of gorgeous gorgeous people. I am glad to be back, and I really hope you're glad to have me back :)

Amal is.

forwards.

2010-04-13T21:48:00.003-04:00

I look forward to being on that arching cliff as the sun sets and have you ask me that long lasting request. I look forward to saying yes.

I look forward to telling my family and friends and I look forward to being able to see the sunlight glint off the tiny diamonds on my finger.

I look forward to screaming with delight as my sister sketches out my dream dress and finding the perfect bone white silk and little pearl buttons. I look forward to seeing the beautiful hidden beach off the Spanish coast being decorated with simple white chairs and yellow lillies. I look forward to the smile on my dad's face when he hugs you, welcoming you to this complicated family.

I look forward to my girlfriends gushing over the handwritten invitations and their delirious worries over what to wear. I look forward to having long quiet talks with you about how you can't wait to be with me every day. I look forward to telling you that you'll be sick and tired of me by the fourth day.

I look forward to your smile and pretty little nods, agreeing to all my flustered and impossibly simple requests; good friends, family and you.

I look forward to waking up in a big mahagony bed to the smell of wondrously clean white sheets thinking "it's the day."

I look forward to having a silent breakfast on the patio and slowly letting the anticipation sink in. I look forward to having my hair swept up to the side, with a lone jewel keeping the long curls in place. I look forward to slipping into my Steve Madden flats.

I look forward to laughing with my mom as she lends me her tiny diamond studs and fist pumping my little brother as he kisses me before I walk out to you.

I look forward to having you see me for the first time, and I look forward to seeing your lips smile and your eyes blink with delight. I look forward to walking towards you and standing next to you as we start this gloriously long odyssey together.

I look forward to dancing with you to Lissie's raspy bourbon coated voice.

Mostly, I look forward to you.

2010-04-13T11:03:00.002-04:00

Canadian Studies 1000 Final, completed.

owl pajamas.

2010-04-09T15:31:00.003-04:00

Global Political Questions Final Essay, handed in.

Journalism 1000 Final, completed.

And this is love,

quadruple.

2010-04-02T21:32:00.004-04:00

It was a gorgeous day at the quad yesterday. Colin and I had lunch at the quad. There were hippies with hula hoops, I was entranced because they were so lovely.

There was also a strange man in a bright neon orange suit playing an acoustic guitar. It was highly interesting.

Remnants of my vegan sandwich. It was free, so I ate it.

J1000 A14 :) Not all of us though. Bottom: Caleigh, Katie, Alice, Maghen, Aviv, Iman.

Top: Galen, Steve, Jason, Meghan, Sam, Ben.

Missing: Meghan, Jill, Clint

Finals next week. I shall be gone. Be back soon. Love always.

some snow.

2010-03-29T22:08:00.004-04:00

Walk with me,

Down this snow shoveled road and hold my hand tight while we slowly find out if what we have is real.

Walk with me,

All along Bank Street and listen patiently as I show you my favourite spots and secret stores.

Walk with me,

Into the café on the corner of Somerset and Elgin and read to me while the pavement soaks up the sun.

Walk with me,

Across Brewer Park and lie with me on the grass while Ryan Cabrera plays quietly from my phone.

Walk with me,

When the lights turn red so we can cross the street to get to The Hill and sit under the pavilion when the sky goes dark.

Walk with me,

So we can get on the 96 that leaves from Kent and Slater so we can watch the Senators play at ScotiaBank Place.

Walk with me,

To the Hartmans on my street so I can get pancake mix for breakfast.

Walk with me,

Down to the Market and sit on this bench next to me while the crowds flow by on this busy Sunday afternoon.

Walk with me,

Towards Dalhousie and wait as I try on this sparkly gold dress so I can look pretty.

Walk with me,

All the way to the departure gate and kiss me goodbye. Hug me tight. And tell me you’ll miss me.

That’ll be enough for me to walk away without you until the next time you’re here to,

Walk with me.

oops. bummer.

2010-03-26T11:41:00.000-04:00

Iman's list of Constant Fears.
1. Someone is going to notice the hole in my socks.
2. While walking up the unicentre stairs, the person in front of me will swing his/her arms too hard and smack me in the face, thus send me tumbling backwards into a crowd that would eat me alive.
3. Tripping down the unicentre stairs and break a rib for all the Carleton conmunity to see.
4. Coming in to class without knowing that an assignment is due that day and not hand it in because it's not finished.
5. My parents randomly showing up in Ottawa for a 'surprise visit'.
6. Being told that I have not made it into the second year of j-school.
7. Giving someone a hug and have them say "you smell weird."
8. Have someone notice that I've worn the same outfit twice in the same week.
9. Finding a bug in my salad *shivers*
10. Pull out a wedgie, discreetly, and turn around to find that there are 10 people behind me, staring.
11. That I will be attacked by an animal that I love (rabbits, puppies) and have a phobia of them and never be able to cuddle with my rabbits ever again because of the fear that they might rip my cheeks out.
12. Walking into a wall.
13. Grow old and alone.
14. Have my pen run out of ink in the middle of a final.

Yes, but I am actually quite brave in real life!

write well she says.

2010-03-24T17:07:00.003-04:00

Allow me to ramble on for a second [this is so I can get my creative wheels churning for my Canadian Studies paper]. I don't doubt a second of my decision to come to Carleton. This year has been one of the best years I've ever had. Yes, it may be argued that there were depressing moments and low blows, there have been lonely days and sad hours, but all those bad patches do not chip off any of the good I have had the pleasure to go through since arriving in Ottawa. I knew coming here that there would be a lot of hard challenges and sometimes I the situation would not be the loveliest, but nothing can take away from the great experiences I've been so blessed to have.

There have been mountains of great people that I've had the pleasure to meet. From J100o class to ELP outings to random sit-ins at the library. I've gained new experiences through the activities that I've tried out and the events I've dared myself to go to. This has been a raw raw raw year and though there have been moments when I've thought 'is this for real?', I have never doubted my yearning for Carleton and all that it has to offer me. The school year is coming to a close, and I will have gone through my first year of university. It seems supreme to think that I've had a stellar year and that the year has just flown by. Flown by sometimes, crawled at a snail's pace at other times; writing a paper the night before it's due, carrying bagful of groceries that seem to weigh a like an my sister and then some, and listening to an uninteresting talk, I've been through almost all of it. It does not seem possible to me that this year is coming to an end.

How will I have Mondays without FILM? What will my Wednesdays be like without seeing Lindsay in our CDNS tutorial? How on earth do I make it without my Thursday JOUR sessions with the best people in the world? This year has been the best, and I think it will be hard for me to top it off.

We're in the final stretch before finals. Two weeks from tomorrow, I'll have my JOUR final. And I am silently shaking in my pants, I don't know how prepared I am for this end. But I know that the end is inevitable, I will face it, I will sit for that final exam, I will give in that final paper. As much as I don't want it to happen, it shall, so I better be ready for it.

After the year ends, I don't know what the other three has in store for me. I am not sure if I'll have an offer for a second year of journalism, I don't know if I'll have a good enough GPA to hold on to my scholarship, I don't know where this will lead me to, but one thing I do know is; I'll be here. If they don't offer me a second year placing in Journalism [Oh God, please give me another year], I'll go to into Political Science. If they don't give me another year of funding, I'll get a job and pay for school on my own. All I know is, I want to be here, and I'm going to make it happen.

But those are hurdles that still seem like quite a distance away. The first one that is coming up is this final CDNS project, and then studying for finals. I'll make it through, I know it. And after the school year ends, there shall be summer. I don't know what is going to happen, but I know that whatever it is, it shall be stellar. Regardless if I stay in Ottawa and do something exciting, or if I go to KL for some much needed rest, I will have a great summer. I know it. There seem to be a lot of things on my mind, but really, there should only be one thing running through my thoughts; readwriteunderstandtypethinkanalyzebreathe.

Hope you're having a good week.

somewhere to go.

2010-03-23T14:34:00.007-04:00

This paraphrased conversation took place on a Friday evening in the library;

Meg *packs up her things*: So I'm going now.

Iman: Where are you going tonight?

Meg *still packing up*: Over to a friend's house. What are you doing?

Iman: Me? Oh nothing. I'll probably be here till closing.

Chelsea: You're going to be here till midnight? What time did you get here?!

Iman: 2.

Chelsea: Do you have a life?

Iman: No. What are you doing tonight?

Chelsea: I'm going to dinner and then to a 67s game. Seriously, you're going to be here all night?

Iman: Yes.

Meg: You should go out with us.

Chelsea: Yes, we'll take you out. We'll go out.

Iman: Ok, but what are we going to do?

Chelsea: Ummm, we'll sit, and drink, and talk...

Iman: Oh ok.

Meg: Seriously Iman, you need a life.

Iman: I know.

So last weekend I went out and got a life. I must say that I am so proud of myself, I did not go to the library at all the entire weekend! *smiles wholesomely* and I haven't stayed on campus past 9pm this week. Fine, given it's only Tuesday, I didn't go to the library after class last night. I honestly need to branch out.. I had a great weekend though. I went over to Cara's on Saturday night and we had dinner and watched a Walk to Remember and just hung out. On Sunday I went out for brunch and mini shopping hunt with Caleigh and Christina. We hiked over to the Market and ate at Zac's Diner, and I am so upset at myself for not finding it sooner. I love Zac's. I love their curly fries, I am seriously salivating right now just thinking about it. I had smoked salmon with eggs, and must I say - heavenly. Then we followed my GPS and went to Adorit, Young Janes and a couple other vintage stores. I think I have developed an intense love for Young Janes.

Young Janes [click here] is a vintage store on Dalhousie and it's amazing. I walked in with considerable expectations, and I found some great stuff. I didn't get much because I am on a pretty tight pocket [someone wealthy and amazing, call me] so I tried on these cute blue sandals/shoes and fell in love. They were only 12 dollars, and personally, I think that's a steal. The store is cute and tidy. The clothes were all colour coded and shoes and accessories were just scattered around the room. The prices were great too :) Caleigh got a great sweater and hat, and as we were lining up to pay, I saw the greatest bag ever! It's a cute little straw sling, and I just had to have it.

I'm not a compulsive shopper, sure, there are a lot of things that I like, but I don't buy everything I see or have an extreme desire to cash out every f21 dress. I take my time and think things through; do I need it? do I really like it? what will I wear it with? is it worth it? I know, girls will hate shopping with me, I like to take my time and think my purchase through. But my one exception is if I see something and I do not have to convince myself that I need/must/have to get it. It's sort of like a 'zap' sort of moment. As if my heart will honestly break if I walk out of the store without it. That's how I felt with the bag. I loved it. I saw it in the last second too. I saw the price and was sold. Rather, it was sold, because I bought it. I walked out of Young Janes a very happy buyer.

I used the bag yesterday, and I love it. I can't wait till it gets warmer and I can use my new shoes. I think Young Janes will be permanently marked on my map of 'Places to Go When I Need Somewhere To Go'.

amal.

2010-03-18T19:10:00.007-04:00

I'm a big sister.

you, tired. me, more.

2010-03-17T20:59:00.002-04:00

Type, type, type. Write, write, write. Think, think, think. Read, read, read. I am hanging off my last strand of patience. I love this, I love work, I love the rush of accomplishing greatness (greatness? I shall have to rethink this), but I need a break, I am tired, I am slowly burning out. I need something new to do, someone new to meet, someplace new to trudge through, some people new to love. I think it's time to dig out those flats and flip flops, it's time for my capris to come out, and for my sweaters to get buried, it's time for a break. A long hibernated break where I do nothing but stay in bed and watch my nonsensically happy trashy TV shows till three in the afternoon. I have seen nothing but the walls of the library basement every night for the past week, weekends included. I've used the basement booths so often, that I can honestly see my ass print on the seats. It's depressing, yet encouraging, that I know exactly how many seats there are in the library basement; 182. I type, write, think, read and cry all the time, I get tired just thinking about it. I want to rip Vipond and Webb out of my book and tell them that as much as I know their brilliance overwhelms mine by a million fold, they're getting on my nerves. I don't know if I'm doing things correctly, I don't know if what I'm understanding is what I should be understanding, I don't know if my TAs and professors honestly think there's something within me that is worth salvaging and polished and made great, or if I should just quit school and write love stories in a corner of a random Bridgehead. Type, type, type. Write, write, write. Think, think, think. Read, read, read.

I am tired, I need some Bold Roast. I need a break, I need a hug. The worst isn't over, heck, it hasn't even started. 22 Days till Finals, I have to get back to work.

Type, type, type. Write, write, write. Think, think, think. Read, read, read. Work, work, work.

you're looking good.

2010-03-14T18:16:00.002-04:00

Location: Basement of MacOdrum Library.

Company: Aliya Adnan.

Mood: Desperately Hungry.

Energy status: Excruciatingly and Dangerously High.

Task at hand: JOUR1000 readings and notes.

Current statement: "I don't think my mother would approve of my newfound friend-Bold Roast."

tear not tear.

2010-03-13T00:36:00.006-05:00

Apparently Jowee needs photos. So this post is full (being the operative word) of photos. They're from my Wednesday venture to SBP with Shaf. So this is for Jowee, and for the person that will one day be blog surfing and come across this site and see my photos and be all like "Oh wow, she's pretty" and instantly drop everything and come to Ottawa to see me. Hello person.

Atrium.

MacOdrum Library

The Quad. Centered by Dunton Tower, Tory, Paterson Hall and MacOdrum Library.

Dunton Tower.

No, this is not me. I wish. This is Shaf.

Obviously easily amused.

Don't you wish I looked like this?

Outdoor theater in front of Loeb.

Jeremy's moose.

Disney on Ice: Princess Classics. I am dork, we know.

All the Disney Princes and Princesses. I adore their outfits. I teared; we know I am a dork.

Hunger, we bow to thee.

One day the person who drops everything to come to Ottawa will want to be with me because I am dorky enough to watch Disney on Ice. And allow me to tear while doing so.

he could be.

2010-03-11T00:47:00.005-05:00

I could be with someone who was a drummer in band. He would travel with his friends, be in a new city every night and carry my love through the entire country. He'd record his shows, add a short message at the end and send them to me. He'd get me lockets from every city and put random photos of us inside each of them and give them to me in a beautiful box at the end of his tour. There would be midnight phone calls and surprise visits, but nothing would beat the way he taps his fingers on my forehead when he's thought of a new tune and the how he sharpie-d my name on his drumsticks.

I could be with the guy who makes your Subway sandwiches. We'd go and have picnics in parks when the sun is out and play Pictionary in public. He'd put my initials on his Subway apron instead of his own because he says "It just looks better". I'd come visit him during his lunch break and bring McDonald's fillet-o-fish meal, large, so we can share. Before I leave, he'd make me my favourite sub without me asking, and he'd put extra cheese on my foot long tuna sub on toasted white, because he loves me.

I could be with the guy who writes all the great songs you hear on the radio. I'd help him think up of words, phrases and rhymes at night before we go to sleep, stay up with him and eat Chinese take-out the night before a deadline and tell him when I hate how it sounds. He'd look at me for a few minutes when I sit on the rattan chair on the porch and then ferociously scribble something on a napkin with a big smile on his face. Our days would be full of lyrical ranting and he'd write beautiful songs about me and you'll sing them when you're happy.

I could be with the guy reads the traffic reports on the CBC morning news who lets you know when the Queensway is clear and when Hunt Club is not. He'd put in cryptic messages in his reports that only I would understand and it'd make me laugh when I hear his voice on the bus. He'd request my favourite songs and have them played even though CBC doesn't do that kind of thing. He'd be amazing at his job and doodle on his scripts, all the while thinking about how we'd sit under the CBC radio strip on Sparks street with some ice cream next weekend.

I could be with the dude who sharpens ice skates on Bank's skate store, who also sells bikes during the summer. He'd not make much money but he'll never let me pay when we go out. There would be days when he sits in the store and rearranges everything so it's color coded because he knows I'm coming by the next day, and I like things to be color coded. We'd do lots of outdoorsy things and he'd force me to go camping because he knows I'll "like it when the stars come out" and smile secretly when I eventually do like camping. He'd make my skates super sharp so that when we skate on the canal, we'd go super fast and he'd chase me, because he knows I like it when we do that.

I could be with the guy who sells cameras at Black's. There would be days when we'd take walks and end up not talking the entire time because we're too busy watching everything and too busy holding hands. He'd get me rolls of film that he gets for free because they're "getting rid of the stuff" and make me eat quiche even though I don't like eggs when they're made like that. At night, I'd hum random songs to make me sleepy, but he ends up falling asleep first. I'd surprise him with Bee Gees vinyls and he'd secretly take photos of me when we're watching TV, when I'm painting my toes, when I'm reading on the bus and when I'm laughing in bed.

I could be with the man in that grey business suit, you wouldn't think it, but we'd have breakfast of Alpha bits and grape juice before we leave for work. There would be little hands and feet that rush for kisses and hugs during any random moment of the day and we'd take turns brushing little mouths. He won't bring me to benefit dinners or 'charity events', but instead we'd go to soup kitchens, shelters or gelato bars. We'd take vacations in Whistler, Andalusia and Disneyland. He'd love me more than anything and he'd let me put his tie on for him in the morning and let me take it off when he gets back from a million-dollar making day.

I could be with guy who works as a TA for extra cash and drinks root beer when he marks papers at 3 in the morning. I'd sit to keep him company and watch Psycho and Vertigo on mute. He'd come and give me a hug when I cringe at the scary parts because he knows his hugs make me feel better. There would be days when we'd just stay in and play PS3 and pokemon till we get sick of Jigglypuff and COD. We'd eat cold noodles and paint our ceiling an odd shade of ice blue. He'd wear authentic Levi's jeans and he'd tell his students about this "amazing girl" he's with and how happy she makes him feel and share stupid stories about how she doesn't know how to boil eggs.

I could be with the jerk who sells you expensive tickets at the theater just so he can save up to buy Ingmar Bergman's Canon 814 auto zoom super 8 camera that he'd use to put our lives on film. He'd sneak me in to shows that he knows I'd want to see and get backstage passes so I can meet the Boston Ballet company because he knows I want to touch their toe pointe shoes so badly.

I could be with the ice hockey player who scores the winning goal for every game and has a million hot girls swooning for him, but he wants to be with me all the same. He'd bring me into the locker room, introduce me to his teammates and give them the imaginary "I will punch you" fist when they look at my a**. I'd sit in the special box seats with my girlfriends during his home games and I'd get texts at 11PM that say "we won. I miss you." We won't be able to go anywhere without hordes of people stalking us, so we'd chance it by wearing baseballs caps and sunglasses when we're out in the park. He'd be tough, buff, wonderful and he'd blink tightly once during his camera close ups because he knows I'm watching and waiting for him at home.

I could be with the guy who does aid work in Africa, the one that does all the good for the world without expecting anything back but with hope for a better universe. We'd talk about relief work, foreign aid, international agencies and how my hair smells like strawberries after I take a shower. He'd wear these amazing glasses that I'd always steal/borrow and bribe him for a hug if he wants them back. On days when we're lazy, we'd clean the apartment, do laundry and invite good friends over for game night. He'd always want to spend the entire day with me before leaving for an assignment and he'd want to leave me for Africa just so he could leave Africa to come back home to me.

I could be with the prince who lives on top of French hill, and I'd be lavishly treated to everything and anything I want. We'd drive away from everything in his black Comet and run away to a secluded cove under his castle. There would be days when we'd pretend to be sick so we wouldn't have to go to state dinners and we'd stay in and watch Hitler's propaganda movies and cuddle on huge Venetian furniture. He won't let his valet pick out his clothes, but turn to his khakis and white shirts instead because he knows I like those best. He lets me stand next to him and soak in his $500 per bottle aftershave because it smells so good. And he won't give me a library, he'd just give me one book, Anna Karenina, because he knows it's my favourite.

But I'm not. I'm with you. And that's better than being with anyone else.

in here.

2010-03-08T13:27:00.003-05:00

If I could, this is where I'd live. I wouldn't change a thing. I love everything.

Photos taken during my tumblr surf. Would you like to come live with me?

could be.

2010-03-07T21:15:00.016-05:00

Nothing makes me more content than plugging good music in my ears, setting it to 'loud' and typing away on my Macbook. Writing anything and writing everything. There's just something exhilarating about hearing your fingers click away on white keys resulting to sentences and rows upon rows of delicious words. I like typing, it makes me feel accomplished.

I could be a rock star, strumming all day and kicking it all night. Travelling around in my tour bus, hanging with the guys and shopping with the girls. I could be livin' up the road and eating at all the best diners, worrying about nothing and thinking only of my shows and how amazing they would be. To be a rock star and living off the music of my soul would be the ultimate way to go. I'd wear killer outfits and flirt with crowds during my shows. People would want to take photos with me and beg for my signature.

I could be gymnast, winning gold medals and bringing my country into utter victory. With amazing tumbles, twirls and dismounts, I would be the face on every kid's Cheerios box. There would be nothing but endless hours in the gym and super concrete abs and calves, and nothing would make me happier than landing a double Arabian to the sound of Beethoven in the background. Little girls around the world would want to be like me, and work hard to be me.

I could be a artist, painting away in an obscure room, with portraits littered around my feet. There would be paint on my nose, elbow and in the crease under my ankle. I'd wear nothing but shorts and a huge smock with strokes and dots all over, there would be a kitten in the corner licking its paw waiting for me to get up and give it milk. I'd have Paula Abdul and Backstreet Boys playing from the big stereo in the corner and a huge canvas of the Eiffel tower in another. A mobile hangs from the ceiling with the constellations dotting the walls.

I could be a lover, wrapped in sheets with sunlight bouncing off my curls. There would be a book in my hands and I'd read to you my favourite lines and an anklet that you bought for me from Bangkok sits gracefully on my heel. I'd run my fingers through your hair and laugh at the Superbowl commercials. We would spend all our time with each other, during long walks where we'd sit in obscure coffee cafes and hold hands, during dinners where we'd sit in McDonalds and talk about books over some fries and hold hands, during movies where we'd watch from our couch and eat yogurt with granola and hold hands.

I could be be a hippie, wearing leggings and tunics with a gorgeous leather satchel and papyrus sandals. There would endless bracelets on my arms and a tattoo of my name in Arabic on my inner left wrist. I'd always have a guitar with a rainbow strap and play tunes of peace and love on street corners. I won't smoke pot, I'd smoke the competition in strumming duels. There would be nothing better than spreading the love for mother earth and to roam from one vintage store to the other.

I could be a college kid, rushing from one class to the next during the day and partying it up at night. I wouldn't care about anything but finishing my assignments the hour before its due and what to do during the weekend. I'd have lots of friends and do crazy things like wear ponchos and fake mustaches on random Thursday nights. I'd work hard two weeks before finals so that I'd have a decent grade to show my parents when I go home for the summer. There will a boy who calls me and asks if I want to go get a burger with him which would lead to us 'connecting on a new level'.

But I'm not. I'm Iman. Lonesome, awkward, funny little me. The shy tiny one that snaps photos from a distant corner and doubles as the weird small figure that reads with a pencil in her mouth. I will always have work to do, something to finish and somewhere to be. I'm that one. With a few marvellous friends, fresh innocence of all things 21st century related, and a randomly chatty mouth. And I'm fine with that. Wait, rephrase - I'm contently electrified with that.

I hope you have an amazing week, because I know I'll be having one.

found.

2010-03-06T17:51:00.007-05:00

I've been so busy. My final essay is my Auteur Film paper. I've decided to go with comparing three formal elements in Preston Sturges' 'Miracle of Morgan's Creek' and 'Lady Eve'. They're both great films, entirely in black and white, and dashed with a hint of colorful personalities. But somehow, I seem to have writer's block. Which is odd because I have the words in my head, I just can't seem to get it out on the screen. Writer's block plagues the best of us. I better get over it in an hour or so because I've got to get crunching over this essay. It's due Monday so I have to get it done soon. I tried writing this morning, but nothing seemed right. So I did what I usually do when I need inspiration or a break. I went out.

It is a beautiful day in downtown Ottawa. I took out my flats and I am proud to say that today was the first day I went out with no socks on in three months. I had leggings on and just a spring jacket. It felt lovely. I walked and headed towards the Glebe, I wanted to go to this Native store that I always pass when I'm on the bus. So I walked, and soaked in all the lovely sunshine. I should have brought my sunglasses, but oh well, it was wondrous nonetheless. I found the store, it was a couple of streets down from James street so it was not so hard to find. I walked in, and I must say that I was quite disappointed. Everything was overpriced, in my honest opinion, there wasn't much choice in jewellery or moccasins and there were mostly random beads that you can get at any jewellery-making store. I didn't get anything from the store and crossed the street and hopped on the 1 Ottawa-Rockcliffe.

I rode all the way down to Sparks and Bank. I got off and walked on Sparks street. It's a sort of outdoor pedestrian mall with cobble stone roads and beautiful old buildings. I don't know what's on the higher floors, but on the street levels, they're all kind of stores; bookstores selling old and rare books, pubs and cafes, antique shops, framing shops, a HMV, random clothes stores, the post office and souvenir stores. In the middle of the walk, there are statues and 'art' pieces. I was walking and noticed that one of the stores had the words 'Ottawa Electric Company' engraved on the stone above it. I gave a little chuckle and thought of my dad. He works for the electric company in KL, and I experienced a little pang of, no, not homesickness, but a pang of 'I wish mom, papa and the three idiots were here'. It didn't help that there were families with little kids running around either. So I strolled along Sparks street and crossed at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier and World War Monument. They were cleaning it or something of that sort because there were a couple of cranes and people in dangling platforms hovering above it. I crossed over and walked past the flagpoles that had the flags of every Canadian province. I saw two people looking at a map, they looked confused and lost. I smiled and said 'Pfft. Tourists'. And in that moment I realized that I wasn't a tourist anymore. I live here. I do. I don't get lost, I know my way, I know where to go, this is my turf now. It was a pretty exciting realization. I live here.

I crossed at the lights in front of Fairmont Chateau Laurier and walked past Chapters to get to Byward Market. I wanted to go to Kulu Trading, which is this marvellous little store across from Black Tomato (Purple Tomato?!) in the Market and they have all sorts of beautiful jewellery, pendants and bracelets. I wanted to get some hemp bracelets for my sister and friends back home, but alas Kulu Trading was closed. I was sort of annoyed because I went there a couple of weeks ago and they were closed too. Shit, don't tell me they've closed down forever! It would be horrible. So I decided to go towards Rideau Centre and then right in the middle of the Market were booths selling Native jewellery, mittens, scarves and I think there were just getting rid of their winter wear now that spring is getting closer. I wandered a bit and saw these gorgeous leather bracelets that I wanted so badly! But I thought that for the price it wasn't really worth it. So I walked away. Be proud of me! I fought temptation :) And this lady was selling homemade spiders that she said would "give you good luck". I wasn't drawn to the spiders, instead I fell in love with her homemade Native dream catchers. I bought three little ones for 10 dollars. Totally worth it. They've got feathers on the bottom, beads in the middle and made with suede string.

There were so many people out today! All kinds of people too. I think most of them were tourists though. Right in front of the beavertail booth was this guy with his two huge dogs, lots of people were crowding around to catch a glimpse of these big dogs. I don't know why. Sure they were huge, but nothing to stop traffic for. Oh wow, I'm a grouch. They were cute though. I continued on and walked through to Rideau Centre. I got a tropical splash at Yogen Fruz and then started looking for this store called Town Shoes for some flip flops callled 'fit flops' that my mom wants me to get. I finally found it on the third floor and the shoes weren't that great. It was 90 dollars! I wouldn't pay 90 dollars for a pair of flip flops. Fine, granted they've got some sort of medical benefit for my back, but still! I told my mom about the price when I skyped with her later and she went on this tiny rant about me being able to spend 40 dollars on a Forever 21 coat that I didn't even need (I do need it!) and not being able to buy shoes that would help my back (I've got scoliosis). Pssshhh, I'll go buy it in the Glebe or something next week.

After Town Shoes I decided that it was time to go home and start on my homework. When I got out of Rideau Centre, I headed towards Chapters instead of the bus stop. I went in and looked for a sketchbook for my sister. I saw a few Moleskin notebooks, but they weren't very Amal-ish so I didn't get anything. There were cute ones but they weren't sketchbooks. I have this random weakness for notebooks. I must have a million at home, all hardly used, but when I see a gorgeous leather bound book, I just MUST have it. I didn't buy anything though. Then I went to the 'sale' section of Chapters and saw a few pretty good deals. In their fiction pile, they've got the usual classics bound in these beautiful cloth book covers and I wanted to get Adventures of Huckleberry Finn and Tom Sawyer for my sister, they were only 10 dollars, but after browsing around for a few minutes and I eventually put it down. I don't know why, but I got out of Chapters and hopped on 2 Bayshore and rode all the way back home.

The last stop of the day was Hartmans. I needed to get Mr Clean Magic Eraser to clean my Macbook. While I was there I got some bread and ziplock containers for my lunches. Then I saw 'it'. Now, if you are a Canadian you might not understand my feelings when I saw this beautiful product. But if you are an Asian, you know exactly how I feel when I saw this wonderful wonderful wonderful staple that has eluded my taste buds for 8 months. I found this in Hartmans -

I bought it. Naturally.

motions.

2010-03-05T23:39:00.000-05:00

You were my beautiful hello. You are my wondrous goodbye.

So here, take this kiss. Hug me one last time, and let me close my eyes as you walk away.

Walk slow.

Wake me up when this hurt goes away, tell me when the glasses are smashed and the sheets are clean.

Wash through, hang to dry, fold, and keep.

Blow hard, don't let the scrape sting. Put this smile on and tell me I'm alright.

Don't think of me. Don't tell me. Don't tell me you thought about my toes all night. Don't tell me.

Stir once, heat twice, there's nothing for three. Read the directions, don't be silly

Run back, ask for another kiss.

Stand there and watch these tear tracks, tell me you can't breathe.

Hold my hands. Kiss them. Grip them tight and don't let go.

Turn off the lights, close the door and whisper happy sorrows.

Show me. Show me.

Trace the cracks, walk on gold. Crush my heart.

Crumple it. Toss it. Leave it.

I was your beautiful hello. You are my last goodbye.

i.a