miss rema erd
i am Hannah (my name's a palindrome).
i am the first daughter of the first daughter of the first daughter.
i love my family deep deep. my favourite red is carmaine.
i also love football, good books, sunsets, grinning babies, poets, photographers, a good intellectual conversation, quirky people, pious bad boys with soft hearts and good minds, happy surprises, the rain, flat shoes, the thought of painting, coffeebean's caramel ice blend, borders (as in the bookstore), bubble tea, and waking up on my own.
/ Ice Skate @ Kallang Leisure Park
/ Rollerblade @ ECP
/ Plan a community service project coming up!
/ Enter a photography contest
/ Jog with Tch Rapiah @ Tamp Stadium coming up!
/ Buy an English translation Qura'an
/ Buy the $100 book on the 4 Imams
/ Take up a new skill @ a CC
/ Paint a picture by Singapore River
/ Play paintball @ SDC
/ Go to the Tree Top @ MacRitchie
/ Learn how to (really) ride a horse
/ Plan an event for my old Madrasah
/
caveat lector
Now, before you scream and protest how crooked and sinister I am for playing against a 6-year-old, let me (embarrassingly) confess that my sister is a worthy opponent. Yes, there is a possibility that I have become dumber than I already am (school closed for the holidays six days ago), but I'd like to think that my sister is a genius.
We played Bingo first. I won the first, second, third games. No biggie. Before, I'd always win over her. The idea of losing never crossed my mind. The turnpoint came when we drew the fourth game for the night, and when I looked at her board, her numbers were all neatly chosen.
Bingo is not only a game of luck (this Bingo being the one you call out the number you want, not the one were you roll the numbers around). I've always believed there is a certain strategy to playing and winning Bingo. Nevertheless, we drew the fourth game and I frowned.
The fifth game she won. My jaw actually dropped. I had BING on my scoresheet, and when I checked hers, she didn't only have BINGO, she had BINGOGO. *scratches head* How did that happen?
So okay, moving on, we switched to Tic Tac Toe. "Concentrate, okay Mona? Always look at where I put my colour okay? Always check if I can win," I reminded her. There's no way my crazy 6-year-old is going to beat 19-year-old me at a simple silly game of Tic Tac Toe right?
WRONG.
We played nine games. We drew 5. She won 3, and I won once. I AM PATHETIC!!
I was shocked, but kept it hidden. Mona was doing her Victory Dance. Jiggle jiggle to the left, jiggle jiggle to the right. "I win, I win, oh yeah, oh yeah," she goes. I grinned at her; I mean, it's hard not to be proud of her.
So we tried to come up with a New Game; HangMan. I explained her the rules of the game and how to play it.
Han: Okay ready? Guess a letter.
Mona: Kalau salah orang tu mati?
Han: Yes. Choose a letter.
Mona: Kesiannye..
Han: Yes I know, haha. Okay choose a letter.
Mona: Kalau adek hero, alamak, adek save dia!
Han: No Mona, you cannot save him. Choose a letter!!
Mona: Okay, "a"... Kesian dia..
broke my fall (0)
sapienta
but reading, good company and reflection
must finish him.
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!