Don't ask. *sweat*

Okay, so I may have lost my brains. Suddenly I am overcome to write about something lovey-dovey. This story is fictional. Any resemblence to living persons, bla bla bla. The usual. Agh. Don't ask, okay?




Lovesick. That’s how I would describe my situation right now. Her eyes blink; once, twice. She rubs her fingers over her eyes, as if she could rub away the image permanently plastered at the back of her eyeballs. Sleepy eyes, a slight overbite and long, tapered fingers. A slightly loping gait and an easy smile.
Her breaths came in little puffs as she tried to warm her cold fingers. It was a bitterly cold day; one she rarely enjoyed and never delighted in. Perhaps I should just go ahead; maybe I shouldn’t be waiting like this.
She sighed; a sigh of a thousand unspoken words and a million concealed feelings. Her eyes scanned the surrounding area, waiting, hoping to see the man whose laugh could create flutters in her rather large stomach. Her feet stamped the ground a little; waiting is indeed cold business.
She amused herself by crossing her eyes in front of the window of a small stationery shop, looking and laughing at her own reflection. A few young people passed by; giving her strange looks. She knew they were looking and further amused herself by turning around and looking back; eyes crossed and everything. They immediately scuttled away hastily. Giggling with perverse delight, she covered her mouth with her hands.
Maybe that’s why I will never have a normal relationship. I resemble a large fruitcake. She laughed a little; a short, snorting sound.
Ah well. I’ll just hang around for a few more minutes and see if he shows up. Meanwhile, I shall go ahead and indulge in my stationery fetish.
She entered the shop with a feeling of slight foreboding. What if I stay here too long and he turns up and I end up missing him? She shook her head and muttered to herself, eliciting a frightened look from the Malay shop girl.
No, no. I am hardly that unlucky. But she made her excursion in the shop a quick one, just in case. She looked down at her handphone; it declared that he was exactly 15 minutes late. She sighed again. Wearily, she pulled out her MP3 player from her pocket and began to choose a more upbeat song than the dismally sad one she was listening to.
Her rather toothy smile spread across her face as she found the song she was looking for; an upbeat and ridiculously catchy number he had sent to her. That song always did remind her of his strange and appealing sense of humour.
She stared hard at the scene around her. A group of skinny, well-dressed girls in the nastily expensive bakery across the street. A string of schoolchildren crossing the road. A few old ladies clutching shopping bags and gossiping hard. Several young men loitering. A dressmakers there, next door to a bustling stall selling mixed rice. A strange little boutique with a mannequin on display; half-dressed in only a pair of blue short pants and a floppy hat.
No sign of him. She sighed again, heavier than before; this time with a tinge of worry. Is he alright? What if he’s lying bleeding somewhere?
Then her eyes saw him. Nay, rather, she sensed him. She knew he was coming; just around the bend. Her eyes brightened as she recognized his rather scruffy brown jacket, his slow, ponderous steps. And she smiled.

* * * * * * *

I hope I don’t smell bad, he thought to himself. I am pretty sure I had it all cleaned. Maybe I should have showered again.
Shaking his head, he continued towards the ridiculously expensive stationery shop she frequented. Anything more than 2 bucks for a pen is madness, he thought in a self-righteous way. I can never understand girls and their pretty but un-functional pens. Smiling, he continued to swing his free-of-charge, multi-coloured-ink pen around on its’ strap, humming a little to a song he had got from her.
He narrowly missed decapitating a little old lady with her equally as old friends. She shot him a stern look as he apologized profusely, but her gaze softened when she saw his obvious sincerity. She sent him off with no more than an indulgent ‘hmmphf’ and a gentle half-smile.
He continued on; now dismally aware that he was late, not sure by how much, but late for sure. He hoped she hadn’t left.
He wished he could tell for sure how she felt. He wished he knew how he himself felt. He knew her; knew her odd ways, her clumsy movements and her too loud laugh. He knew her; knew her little quirks, her silly sense of humour, her lame jokes. How she always was too friendly, how she laughed often, and how she always seemed to have a word for everything.
We’re friends, he told himself firmly. Nothing more.
His mind wandered as he passed by a dressmakers shop. Do I really want to know how I feel about this girl? This crazy, fun-loving, clumsy, oddball of a girl?
Then he spotted her across the road, staring at the window of the stationery shop, making those funny faces to herself again. He saw her giving a few people a good scare with her cross-eyed look. Suddenly overcome with the mad desire to laugh; he ducked into the mixed rice stall and went straight to the toilet, where he burst into raucous laughter for a good 4 to 5 minutes. Leaning weakly against the wall, he gasped for breath as he heard somebody knocking the door.
“Hello? Are you okay?” “What’s wrong ah?”
He hastily opened the door. “No, I am okay. Sorry ah,” he amended. Slipping out of the shop (followed by numerous puzzled looks) he crossed the road and headed towards her. He opened his mouth to call her name, but as if by magic, she turned around just in time and saw him, a big grin on her face.
She was wearing that plain black button-down shirt again. Her favourite because she claimed it was slimming. Without realizing it, he hastened his steps to get to her. And he smiled.

* * * * * *



“You’re late, you know. You’re lucky I didn’t walk away. I think I may have terrified some people by making faces, all while I was waiting for you. I may get arrested.” “I know.” He laughed; the laugh she loved. “I saw.” And grinning up at her; he took her hands. “Come on, you weirdo, or we’ll miss the movie.”

Malaysia's Next Top Moocher

I am an expert moocher. I mooch for a living. I mooch on Mondays. I mooch on Tuesdays. I mooch everyday. I like to mooch.

And for all you uninformed people out there, mooching is the fine, ancient and almost extinct art of being the laziest S.O.B you can possibly be, but with such style and such grace; that many will admire you for it.

Mooching, or Moochery, begins with the utter conviction that the world is moving at a pace that you want it to move. Forget deadlines. Forget the high-speed life that is Uni life. Then, from the appropriate state of mind, we shall move on to achieving the right actions and gestures, which includes a permanent attachment to one's bed/sofa/couch, a slight drooling, a slumped shoulder and a signature twitch.

Once we've acheived the appropriate first level, we move on to the higher level, Publicus Trainus Moochingus Artus.

This delicate and powerful art requires the utmost of concentration and a perfect spot for the mooching to take place. The ideal mooch spot is, without a single doubt, in one of the four corners of each compartment.

From there on, one must face a great challenge. The early level mooching techniques do not apply here anymore. For one, there is no bed/sofa/couch. Drooling is prohibited, lest one is arrested and thrown into the little place we call Tanjung Rambutan, and trust me, it's not an orchard.

So, when one is at this Master Level, one must be One with the Fork. Errr, I mean, Forge. No... that's not it....but you get my point.

The hands must be in the pocket, and this is a fine art, because one must distiguish oneself from the riffraff that come from the School of Lepak. Mooching is art, Lepak is... well. Ahem. The thumbs must be hooked just at the pocket; not too much, and not too little.

The expression on one's face is harder to master. It must be a cross between aloof indifference, boredom, slight maniacy and a whole lot of jaw-jutting and scowling. Shift from one leg to another from time to time, scowl at the train doors as if they offended your ancestors and you have it.

When your destination arrives, slouch out and yawn, as if the world is your chicken noodle soup.

Oh yes, and do enrol for lessons at Pauline's School of Mooching and Moochery. Think Hog-warts are cool? Wait till you see Mooch-warts. Muahahahaha.

The Sunset

I wanna stand on that mountain, with the shadows cast by the setting sun dancing behind me.

This is a particularly beautiful screen shot I caught from The Passion of Christ, the most violent, horrifyingly sad, and undeniably moving movie I've ever seen.

Anyways.

Am on a blissful two-day reprise from the screeching hunk of metal (now I'm not sure that it actually is metal, though) but this picture kind of reminded me of the most beautiful scene I've ever seen in my life.

I remember once, when I was walking with my mom up the jogging track/hill near my area (which is now to be demolished to make way for greedy, unfeeling, wicked developers) and it was very very early in the morning, say, before 6. The moon was still shining, and I saw the silvery light of the Night Mistress glistening on a stretch of road. The dull, black tar road suddenly transformed into a beautiful ivory path; as if it could lead me to heaven if I kept walking. The skyline was dark, and the air was cool; so cool, clean and crisp I could breath it forever.

Sigh.

The sunset, o'course is totally different, but it's the serenity and the peace of the picture that reminds me of how I felt at that time.

But nevertheless, after the emotional diarrhoea that is my last post, I feel liberated. Now I may start enjoying my goodness-knows-how-many-ieth time watching all three LOTR movies.

When all else fails.... try banging your head against the wall.

See, when life deals you with the worse cards you can get (like having no 'taitee' or any of the twos or having all the royal cards in unmatching singles in a game of TaiTee.), well, what do you do?

Why, smash your skull against the wall, o'course.

If only life were as simple as some self-inflicted grevious injury. Somehow or other your life is not what you want it to be; hell, not even bloody close.

I can't seem to shake off thoughts easily these days. They pop up in my head at the oddest of hours, at the oddest of places and with the oddest of scenes that never will happen no matter what I do; not even if I willed it so hard my ears will bleed brain fluids.

These thoughts are frankly, highly vivid, very disturbing and slightly possessed. No matter what I do, they do not seem to go away. And to top it all off, I forgot my jacket today and it's FREEZING. Whoopee.

I simply do not need these feelings or thoughts right now. I have too much to think about. I do not want to walk down that road again; the long, dark, ruinous road where all my heart is torn to bits and my life is shatered like a million pieces of glass. That street is not one I want to travel; hell, I don't even want to remember anything about it. Because at the end of that street I will see my body lying on the ground, eyes wide open, blank stare at the sky and mouth open in agony from my death-scream.n My heart will be on the dirty ground, bruised, bloody and littered with scars both old and new. My guts will be spilled on the floor, abandoned in the haste to dig out my spleen.

No, I do not want to go there again. Too many times. And yet if I do not travel
down that road; I will never rest. So, go or just stay put? Either ways, death, pain and agony awaits.

Now lets find me a nice brick wall so I may smash my skull inwards.

Harry Potter and the Totally Unfair Review of his Latest Movie.

Okay, so I have heard some rather bad reviews on Harry Potter; among which the kindest were 'You'd be disappointed.' But as my father once so wisely said, in not quite so many words, "Don't just take other people's word for it. Go see for yourself." And so that is what I went to do.



I went there with every intention of enjoying every bloody cent I plunked in, and with the intention of having a nice good conversation later; dissecting the movie, discussing soundtrack, highlighting the best parts of the movie... *ecstasy* I really feel it's a crying shame how some people can just say, "oh, it was okay," when asked how was the movie. The point, people, of watching a movie with a friend is to have a nice chew on the movie later. Have something to talk about. But then again, very rarely do I come across people like that... except J. We movie-buffs must stick together, y'know.



Anyways, first, I would dispense with the review of the plot (EVERYONE KNOWS THE PLOT.) but I would start by saying kudos to erm... whassisname...David Yates, yeah thats the guy.



The story is not so much darker as it is more edgy. The previous four had a sickly sweetness to it that reeks of diabetic-attack-alert. There is much more impressive magic action, some noteworthy scenes are: Dumbledore VS Voldemort and the Death Eaters VS DA.



Acting-wise, I must say that praise is due to the actresses playing Umbridge and Luna. Nicely done; one an evil toad in pink, the other a spaced-out blond. However, I do like the portrayal of Luna, she is JUST how I imagined Luna would be like.

Daniel Radcliffe has improved EVER SO SLIGHTLY. But he is actually quite cute, no? Give him a few more years....and a hottie will emerge.

What I enjoyed most were the magic battles. I had felt let down by the first four, simply cause the magical battles were not up to par. In this latest installment, the display of magic is nothing short of impressive; lots of flashing lights, cool effects and swishy stuff. (Go figure) I mean, when one goes to see a movie about a teenage boy in magic school, well, one expects magic, no? Don't give me an expelliarmus that's expelliar-wuss; give me a proper disarm charm and let's see some serious stunning as well! And when magicians fight, I expect to see fireworks, lights, fiery creatures from the depths of hell and some cool shields that can deflect glass shards.

The plot did stray quite a fair bit from the book, but try condensing a book of 800 (was it 800? felt like a million) pages into a 2 and a 1/2 hour movie. Then lets see if it actually deserves the bad reviews heaped upon it.

Personally?

I'd give it an A-. The minus simply cause the dialogue was quite limp. Not snazzy enough. 'A' for the effects and for the magical showdowns. And the superb soundtrack.

So, the moral of the story is; one man's meat is his own, you go get your own meat. Err... I think that's wrong. Let's try again.

One man's meat is another man's stewed pork leg? Nope.

One man's meat is another man's vegetarian meal? Highly unliklely.

Ah. One man's meat is another man's poison.

Yeah, that's the one.

Time is too precious to waste on a lecture designed for Insomniac Research!

So I travelled all the way today, to the MTFA class, and to me chagrin, I am one hour early. Eeeks.

No bother, me thinks. Just chill in the blissfully empty classroom. Eat me cheese bun. Wait for the rest of my usual gang to show up; J and K, maybe even MZ. (Startin' to use initials now. Privacy, y'know.) Was glad when Bra-man made an appearance, followed as usual by the skulking figure of HS, which prompted me to check my body to make sure my Kevlar suit was fixed on properly. Bra-man, as usual, was OTT; but I was glad for some relief from boredom.

The lecturer shows up and suddenly the classrom becomes the IRDC. Isomniac Research and Development Centre. Evil plan? Take over the world; one lecture hall at a time. When we all become mindless zombies from Sopoforic Speech Patterns TM , they shall proceed to:

1) Induce catatonia in the minds of the following world leaders and opinion leaders: Mahatma Ghandi, George W. Bush, The Dalai Lama, Britney Spears, Brangelina, TomandKatie, Jose' Carreras and Ong Han Sean.

2) Bloody take over the World. What else? Eat burritos?

Now, do not, for a moment, get me wrong. I love going for classes. Seriously. Just so I can catch up with my ridiculously funny friends, eat two-hour lunches, make crude jokes, make plans for movies and perhaps get an education along the way. But I draw a line at world domination schemes.

Because really, when you travel two hours to get somewhere, you expect it to be worth it. Are two hours of torture in a POW (Prisoner of Why-the-fuck-is-this-happening-to-me??!!) camp worth it? I have had more fun chewing on cardboard.

Not to mention I kept getting strange looks from this 'auntie'; whose eyes were glued on me the whole journey. DISTURBING, much?

I mean, enough already.

I demand my money back. For my LRT ride and my Uni fees.

Catching a long-needed break...

It's Monday, people and it has just become my favourite day, despite those ridiculously ctachy songs that say hey, it's the Monday Blues. But I am no longer having any blues, Monday or Tuesdays or any other days as a matter of fact. I am revitalized by the 5-hour-afternoon snooze I had yesterday, to which my mom finally woke me up only to smirk at me and say with just a hint of sarcasm, in Cantonese, "Enough sleep or not?."

Too woozy to come up with a snappy comeback, I nodded with a silly smile on my face. If someone had asked me, "Hey, wanna go smoke some pot?" I probably would have reacted the same way; so content and groggy was I.

Back to more serious matters.

What does one do, may I ask, when both of one's friends are not on friendly terms and one does not want to upset either? When neither of them are wrong and neither of them are right either; but mule-headedness keeps both from apologising. What does one do?

Sigh.

But then again, maybe me just leave me nose outta this.

Okay, finally took a break from sitting on the train for two days. There are, sadly, very few more mind-numbing things to do than sitting on a screeching hunk of metal, disguising itself as public transportation. But alas! For us who do not drive (yet! -am still plucking up courage to actually battle PJ traffic) we shall suffer in silence. Just found out recently too that another classmate sits on it all the way to Terminal. Shudder.

Hmmm.

Just had me article published, well, at least it was published on the 6th of July and I didn't know. As usual. Till Mekz pointed it out. (Thanks Mekz) Was heavily and very badly edited, which I say is rather a sore spot for me. Dunno whether they thought me writing was bad (but impossible, it was so much worse after edit-ion) or they had no space. Either ways, felt wronged, me did. Which brings me to my next gripe, editors and their slashy-slash ways. Why do they need to cut out quite so much?
As far as I know, I write decent enough.
Ah well.

Don't quite know if I'll have time to blog later this week. Have sneaky suspicion will be swamped with work.

Flunked Journalism Mid-term and Now Looking for a Tall Building.

Red is a good colour. It's the colour of the stuff spewing out of my left ear now. Have flunked Journalism 2 Midterms and am sure will never live it down; thanks to lack of proper sleep, several million short-circuited neurons and a Kijal trip.
Still, one must always be thankful that even with the drama and the tension, we still pulled through at the last-est of last minutes. Finally, the evil assignment which ruined friendships and caused sleepless nights is ended. ENDED for good. Now we may all once again know and love the joy that is SLEEP. Now, lets see if I can now score tickets to go watch Harry get his ass kicked by Voldemort.
Back to more serious matters.
Today I sat on the LRT and bus alone, unaccompanied after days of having great company. Not nice. I hate Saturday classes. All you get for food is some measly piece of fried chicken which, incidentally, you suspect is actually a sparrow disguising itself as a chicken, and some cabbage. As if that is not reason enough to hate classes on Saturdays, the buses don't come either. Nope. No way.
Hmph.
And for the first time in the one year and 6 months I've been taking the LRT, I missed my stop on the way to Uni. Yeap. Not because I was sleeping, or was viciously attacked by a group of Nithlings, or even because I was stopped by the Lord of the Flies; it was because I was bloody DAY-DREAMING. For some reason, I had a notion in my head that occupied what parts of my brain that was still functional and it wouldn't let me go. I was staring, (maybe some drooling was involved, I cannot be sure, it's all a blur to me...) and my ears were still plugged onto Snow Patrol, which, despite them telling me to Open My Eyes... I was completely and utterly unconscious.
I awoke with a jerk when the voice told me I was heading to Taman Paramount. I may have terrified the Indian girl next to me when I loudly exclaimed "OH BLOODY HELL"
and shot up like I was, erm, shot. For a wild moment I contemplated prying open the doors while the train was still moving and throwing myself out onto the tracks. Electrocution be damned, I'll take my chances.
Hmm.
Interesting note: the 'teh ais' in the mamak today tasted particularly good. Though, as Jee remarked, maybe it was just relief from finally having finished that darned assignment. Heck, even cardboard would have tasted great, me thinks.
Hmm.
Will blog more later when brain isn't leaking.

Two Guys, a Girl and a Side Walkway

First of all, good evening everyone, I'll be your host for today's episode of UTAR Journalism Class of 2006/09: The Meltdown of Social Normality: The Jee, Kelvin and Pauline Story.

When the journey is long, ladies and gentlemen, and the weather is HOT, and when three very sleep-deprived people end up walking together....

Sense and sensibility goes flying out the window.

Forget normalcy. Forget sense. Forget reason. And definitely forget what is defined as social decency. There were conversations that would have landed us in jail for sheer crudeness and indecency.

Once upon a time, I was pure of thought, speech and mind,
But then the dark force beckoned, and made me oh so blind
I turned into a monster; a cursing, pervy monster,
And now I bloody cuss on bloody freakin' Blogger.

Sigh.

Anyways....

The journey from uni to LRT is one that should only be undertaken with friends. Lord knows it's lonely when one has a long walk ahead and no company. I have had too many of that when in first semester.

Hmmm. Gots loads to do. Will blog more later. For now, beware the evil that is perversion.

Should you want to make it to your exams, don't talk to me!

Okay, so there are a few theories I've come up with pending approval from the Ministry of Mental Health and Institutions of Mental Stability.

Theory One: When the going gets tough, it just keeps going.
Never forget that you occasionally will encounter obstacles that are the size of several small mountains. And when you do, they say when push comes to shove....shove something sharp up someone's, erm, rear. BUT! We are optimistist, if nothing else, and so we persevere.

Theory Two: Never hold a conversation with me when you have an exam coming, especially not about movies, webcomics and music.
Remember that I am the eternal motor mouth, and I can go on for hours if someone doesn't stop me. Especially when the company is right, and when the topic of conversation is one I enjoy. So, unless you have tonnes of time, do not engage me in a coherent conversation. I also enjoy listening as much as I do talking, so when I like something I would listen for hours and still enjoy myself.

Theory Three: The more tired you are, the more your mom insists that you help your dad cook something nice.
Parents never get hints like, "I'm kinda tired, mom" or "I am just SWAMPED with work mom" or even, "No, mom."However, I do like tinkling round the kitchen, and picking up tips from my dad, who happens to be getting grumpier and grumpier each passing second but aha he always is grumpy. However, corned beef and green peas is my fav so.....ah well.

Theory Four: One can never have too many Bakin' Boys Cookies.
Developed a real taste for 'em. Love how chocolate-y it is. Despite it's less than desirable looks. Might have to lay off.... I have a feeling I'll regret it the next morning; when I find that I may have lost sight of my feet.


But this is about trains, so.....

TOP TEN THINGS TO DO WHEN YOU HAVE A BLOODY ONE AND A HALF HOUR JOURNEY ON THE LRT TO THE END OF THE BLOODY WORLD.

10. Bop your head to your MP3 player (which is switched off to conserve battery) and sing the lyrics all to yourself, making sure that your neighbour gets a good jab in the ribs and when she/he glares at you balefully, cross your eyes and announce in English/Chinese/Tamil/Malay about how you believe the world is coming to an end and all that stands between Earth and destruction is your singing.

9. Pick your nose.

8. Find some little old lady to push away from one of those gray seats. When people start to stare and point, make sure you say " OI! Apa tengok-tengok ah!?!?Tak pernah tengok orang ah?!?!"

7. Stare at the different ads until they all blur together to reveal the meaning of life.

6. Recite the entire Sonnet 18 to yourself in a loud voice, and the proceed to leer lasciviously at the guy/girl sitting opposite you.

5. Grab hold on to one of the holding thingys and scream out " TIDAKKKKK!!! NOOOOOOO!!!! MAAAAKKKK!!!" while screeching that this is the LRT to HEll.

4. Pick your nose again.

3. Stick out your leg and trip unsuspecting passengers over.

2. Rush in and out of the doors at every station just to prove you can.

1. Think of what to write in your blog. But that is not funny. No. Not one bit. Nope.

Enjoy my drivel. There will be more top ten lists to come if inspiration strikes.

Oh God, I've gone and done it again

I heard from somewhere that I have a temper equivalent to a female cow on steroids...could be from one of my sister's more creative moments or some deep-rooted knowledge that in the end, the word female may just elude my behaviourial patterns. Thanks to a certain someone I refuse to name for fear of ruining the feng shui of my blog. But for anyone who reads this and know me here I proclaim I am VERY MUCH FEMALE. I like guys and everything, though right now I have my sights set on someone who probably doesn't even know I like him or even like me back.... OMG am I having a crush?! Wow, haven't had one of those for years. But that is a story which is to be kept at the VERY back of my mind. I kind of gave up on 'em boys... too much heartache, y'know. But it's good to know I am still capable of crushing on someone...literally and figuratively. *sweat*



So there I was, in Carrefour just yesterday, and boy, the world is lucky I don't drive the way I shop.



And since this is about transit and it's, erm, annoyances, well, lets try to tie 'em up together.



Having downloaded songs like 'Brick' (thanks Jee Yee!) and having discovered that it's beginning to get to the Snow Patrol that they know more about the stars and seas than what's in my head is strangely unconducive to a train ride full of people. For one, it puts me in a funky mood.... go figure.



The train, as we all know is rather empty from Asia Jaya to, say, around Bangsar. Then the crowd swells like a bite from a spider (which two little scars on my left hand bear witness to how dangerous spiders can be.... die, spider-in-the-toilet!) and suddenly, I feel dizzy and all-round nauseous.



The air is clogged with the breaths of a thousand sweaty people who spew forth poisonous CO2 and many varieties of NH4. They encroach upon your personal space without any qualms. They insist on blocking the entrances and the exits. And when the train screeches to a halt at Wangsa Maju, well, lets just say that being big has not many occasions to rejoice in one's size, but in this situation, boy am I glad I am roughly the size, weight and temperament of a deranged buffalo. I put my bulk in good use while Dashboard Confessional tells me don't wait, don't wait.



Having had many close, near-madness encounters with the human beings of the world in the train, I must say I do not enjoy having to encounter them in a hypermarket.



As my head rings with the one song stuck in my head all day (Nine Day's Good Friend) I pushed. I shoved. I trampled. I agressively-smashed. I was all-round offensive and agitated. I was a public menace. I had so many nasty looks I felt my skull burning.



Forgive me, old ladies and anyone who got rolled over with my shopping cart yesterday. I was in a hurry. And nothing annoys me more than a bunch of slow-moving people getting in my way.
I was cutting through the crowds like a hot knife on butter, except that the two hot things there was the makcik in a see-thru blouse and my sister, who was trying to keep up with my gargantuan strides.

So what's the deal? Because really, what is with people and getting in the way?

The train doors only open for half-a-minute at MOST. There are tonnes of people trying to get out. And yet, despite the loudly-shouted "EXCUSE ME !!!!!!" these hanger-on-ners, these way-blockers, these statues-of-immobility-and-obstruction persist in their twisted, malevolent, cruel and unusual evil plans to delay your life for a few seconds, all done so that they are able to go home at night and fall sleep with a smile on their faces, delighting in their success of managing to make your day just a little bit worse.

But enough about that. I swear on my er, dog's name that if I continue I will end up in jail for offensive language and all-round idiotic ranting.

So. Let's shift to more pleasant things.

Haven't actually blogged about my new friends -well, I never had many friends so I think when I do its worth blogging about. Or even my life in uni -though it mainly consists of trying to stay alive in below-freezing temperatures and below-boring lectures.

Bright bits of my life these past few days?

Finding a new friend. One who shares my weird tastes in music and my fondness for fantasy, not to mench a whole load of other stuff in common that will take too long to list down. (You know who you are!) So yay, I like having new classmates.

Finding new songs. The theme from Princess Mononoke, stuff by Ben Folds, more Snow Patrol, and Angela Aki.

Finding new victim of transit-life, because misery loves company and hence when two people suffer together they are happy in their misery.

Low bits of my life these days?

Crushing on a certain someone. I hate crushing and then crashing and then burning. It's a vicious cycle; friends, feelings, destruction of friendship and feelings. Been there, done that.

Catching the stomach bug. Been feeling woozy in the mid-section for days. Urgh.

Being broke. Payment was smaller than expected this month, and hence am miserably dry.


Now, where did I leave my new Creative Stick-On.......