Sloth, Anger, Envy, Lust, Gluttony, Pride and Greed.

I am Catholic. This is one of those statements that will elicit raised eyebrows and a 'No duh' expression. Its like saying ' I am a girl' or 'My mother is a woman'.

But in the light of recent events of the first week of my holidays (blessed times where suddenly life seems bright and every morning is a breath of fresh smelly-pillow air and no smelly armpits in the LRT in the horizon), I have to admit, at some point, I have fallen into the above 7 deadly sins. And, whether I am a Catholic or not, this does not bode well. But aha, my dear friends, I'll leave it to you to decide if these 'deadly' sins are deadly enough to send me scurrying to my priest.

So, let's get started, shall we?

SLOTH

From the very beginning of the Holidays, I have been an absolute PIG. Seriously. Every chore now is instantaneously met with a ' I'll do it later' or a ' Uh huh, after I destroy the Zergs'. I have slept in late almost everyday (and the days I wake up early I nap in the noon) and I have not written a single word for my assignments. I have 4 reviews and none of which I have written nuts. I am supposed to get moving on the Mlwt Hill thing, but have yet to contact anybody.

But, in all fairness, I think I deserve ONE week break, right? One week of absolute sloth. One week where I allow myself to cultivate moss from my non-activity. I simply demand the right to procrastinate and fool around. Next week, I swear I will get working. Sure I will. Uh huh. Definitely. But maybe later. Next week not so good. Maybe I need to finish my Terran campaign.

ANGER

Anger is not one emotion I claim to be free from. I am very angry at a lot of things. But, like any sane person, I bottle. I pack, I bottle, I save up, I put in jars, and well, I bottle some more. I feel so frustrated these days by the fact that even after all these years I am still stuck at where I was. Stuck with no way out. And though its unfair, I've been lashing out at my family; my mom and siblings mostly. I end up being bad-tempered and edgy for no reason; frustrated and angry at still being stuck in this dreaded cycle.


ENVY

One word: Laptop. 'Nuff said. I envy J's laptop. I envy K's laptop. I even envy my bro's laptop. Hell, I even envy The Blob's laptop! I envy anyone with a laptop, period. And even though I hog the desktop most times, I still want my own laptop. I want to fill my laptop with beautiful pictures of fantasy-themed art (my sis doesn't appreciate that kind of art) and I want to do my own thing and write all my silly stories without the fear of someone reading them.

LUST

I lust after Warcraft. I do. I want to play. I know I am waaaay behind everyone, but I lust. I also lust after the super cute teddy bear I saw at a gift shop at my place. It's blue, with a little white bow. Blue bear, I know, stupid. But I lust. I want. I desire. I long for more than teddy bears and Warcraft. I lust after the life that I see people having as I bemoan my shadow, which stays imprinted upon my home floors. I lust after the freedom, the liberty that I know many people have; the liberty and freedom of choice.

And, like every normal straight girl, I too, lust.... and lust.......after.......that gorgeous pair of wedge heels in Lewre. It was blue. Midnight blue. With diamante detail on the strap. Drool. What did you think I lusted after, you dirty, dirty person?? Orly's #@!#@??? No way.

GLUTTONY

Eating is my favourite activity. Seriously. I like to eat. I don't eat much; (cue: sceptical looks) but you see, I like to do it. I seriously don't eat much... at least, I eat a lot less than what one would expect from someone my size. But since the hols started, me been PIGGING. By the end of three weeks, I be whale. For real.

On Monday last, I pigged out on curry noodles and pork things and chicken things and some really good spicy soup (which burnt down my thraot, I am a wuss when it comes to spicy food)and then satay. Then, returned home hungry and walloped more of my fav crackers and HUGE mug of Milo.

Then yesterday went overboard at Coffee Bean. (Our usual monthly treat, bro's got paycheque so his treat.) Stuffed a regular Belgian Chocolate Ice Blended and one Chicken Pie, half a Spicy Chicken Puff, and polished off the last of my sis's Berry'D Treasure. And that was AFTER a good dinner of spagetti!!!! And if you had given me another pie I would have eaten that too.

Today, I did not pig, but I ate a fair bit. Nibbled a lot. And slept most of the day away too.

PRIDE

I have far too much. And none at all. Pride made me take on more assignments than I can actually handle. And pride has had me stressed out when I fall short. I am too proud to admit that I am only human (and only 21 at that) and that sometimes I screw up. Sometimes I don't have total control. And even though I say this; in the end, I still expect far too much of myself. I still get upset when I don't do as well as I want too. I beat myself up for not doing an absolutely perfect job. I take on far too much, bite off far more than I can chew and still I will struggle on and get really irritated in the end.

I put far too much faith in what I think I am capable of. I have too much pride in me; I will not allow anyone to ever hurt my pride. And yet, sometimes, I have none at all. Lol.

GREED

Greed, ah, well, I fell to her sweet embrace when I greedily polished off the remaining half of my dad's Chicken Pie. I wasn't actually supposed to. And I actually didn't need it. I also greedily stuffed my face with a very large piece of dark chocolate just now. And yesterday, I ate 8 pieces of Loacker wafers by myself. In the span of 5 mins.

So there you have it. My seven deadly sins. Deadly or just plain normal? You decide. Muahahaha.

We interrupt your usual broadcast of the Idiocy and Lunacy of The Whale to bring to you this latest news: Her house (read: porch and a little bit in the living room) was flooded.

It began with a heavy downpour such as had never been seen for the past, erm, few days. It was as if the sky had been torn open like a pack of chips to bestow upon us its tears. (Or maybe it was just the huge gaping holes in the ozone, and not really the sky crying or anything.) The rumbles of its dissent shook my tiny little house and totally killed my Astro. Its bright flashes beamed across the infinite expanse of air and smog and KL pollution.

It rained and rained and I was stuck with nothing to do except take a wild shot at sleeping when my body was completely and utterly shot through with caffeine. I could not shut my eyes; I could not shake off the unease in my heart that comes with every heavy downpour (after the last flood, circa 2002, which was knee-deep and saw our furniture floating away and my dog nearly drowned, I have always feared heavy rains). That, and because I was caffeinated. But I continued to toss, and turn and tried taking slow breaths and thinking of ways to deep-fry prawns in batter to finally achieve bliss of sleep.

Then I heard my mother's panicked calling of my name (man, the last time I heard my mom call me like that was when I didnt pick up her phone call on my first day in Uni) and I rolled out of bed lazily until she said "HOUSE FLOODING!!!" Then boy, I shot down the stairs (narrowly escaping tripping and falling and breaking my neck and drowning in 3 inches of flood water, ew, not a nice way to meet my Maker) and surveyed the situation. Ok. Porch half-flooded, living room safe, mom in a frenzy (oh damn) and Maya outside, appearently still safe.

Mom was panicking and trying to save our electronics, fearful that the water will rise and totally demolish our precious audio system and our only source of entertainment, the TV. But because we have TWO men in the house, (as is to be expected, none of them were home, one working, the other fishing, guess which one is doing what) the wires attached to said electronics sure were 1) complicated, 2) messy, 3) beyond our female comprehension.

I was more concerned with the 6th member of my family, my silly little Maya, who was hiding in her kennel, absolutely terrified. I rushed out and quickly grabbed her leash. I had to coax her out of her kennel and then I tied her to the treadmill at the back of our house; while my mom yelled "forget the dog, help me with the wires!" But my thoughts were only on my dog, seriously, I mean, hello? Dog lover extraordinaire here! Screw the elctronics! Save dog! Even if dog is in no danger!

*Okay, I am a total gloser. Meaning geek+loser. Gloser. Pronounced Gloo-ser. I intend on making it a trademark.*

And, to my eternal shame (and thus further proving that I am a girl) the next thing I saved were my mom's Hush Puppies. Erm, hello? Those shoes cost a bloody bomb. The next thing I did was to shut the glass/wood front door (my front door comprising of one fully paneled glass and wood door and then grills) and thus, I managed to stem most of the water that was taking over my porch. Then I called my trusty big bro, who rushed home.

Alas, the water leaked into our living room. Just a little, but enough to ruin the carpet and soil the floor length curtains (which I now have to wash). Luckily, the water did not ontinue to rise, and overall, we escaped pretty much unscathed, compared to my next door neighbour, whose entire living room got muddified.

Then began the cleaning (which took about 3 solid hours) under the pelting rain. The cause of the flood was traced to a small landslide near my area, where some greedy, shortsighted and stupid developers had built a stretch of houses, despite the geographical inappropriety.

What was funny was earlier that day, I rode the LRT with me folks (yes, including my dad, pfffftt) to Pasar Seni. My dad's first on the LRT. He looked about as comfortable as me in 3 inch heels. (Not that I will ever wear 3 inch heels, but if I ever do, I'd be most uncomfortable.) Though after a while, he was (oh my) enjoying himself. Pffft. Mom was home 'cause she took leave, luckily, or I would be all alone at home and then that would have been disastrous.

Ah, but now everything is alright, we'll have mud everywhere for the next few days I reckon. Garn. There goes my new shoes. I am SO not wearing them out.

Lego StarWars, DOTA, KTM, Doggies, Curry Noodles, Delicious Pork Thingy, Kajang Satay and All Round Great Outing

If ever I were to have another outing, it will be with the same 4 people. The same food-pigging. The same kind of fun. The same location. But with these 4, anywhere we go will be FUN anyhow. I am talking about Bra-man, V, K and J, o'course.

Yesterday was Monday. Also known as Funday. Or Foodday. Or DOTAday. Or, ah, hell, I'll just tell you the tale one by one.

LEGO STARWARS

This surely comes first. For the simple fact that its my (note: yesterday was a lot of 'firsts' for me) first time playing Lego Starwars on a PS2, and first time I got tricked by J (wait, no, J has tricked me many times, I think, just that I didn't notice) into double-jumping off the ledge and dying.

"Jump to the window there," he says, and I stupidly did. Even after asking him "Can reach meh?" and he just said "Can", I should have suspected something. I mean, think about it. The window is like, twenty light years away from where I was standing. But I jumped anyway. And realised I got bamboozled when my little Lego Skywalker smashed to bits and he took all my coins. And he threw in an evil cackle to boot. (If you've never heard J's evil cackle, just jump off a ledge somewhere and you can hear it on your way down.)

Oh, I tried. I tried to kill his little Lego character so many times with my light sabre. Except that he kept changing characters and I kept killing Amidala or that black dude. Oh, the frustration. Oh, the way I mashed the square button. All to no avail. Though, in the end, nothing else would have mattered... he jumped and I jumped. We both committed Lego Starwars Suicide.

Funniest game of Lego Starwars I have ever played. (Wait, ONLY Lego Starwars game I've ever played.) But if I were to have played it before, this would have still been the funniest I've ever played.

DOTA

I never thought for one minute I will ever see that word on my blog. I have played DOTA only once, really, on MZ's comp, and I thought it was fun and all, but no biggie.

Till yesterday.

First round, Bra and J owned. They whooped ass left and right while my ass got whooped left, right and centre. Had no idea what I was doing but I was enjoying myself nonetheless. My hero was this huge-ass guy with snot-spraying abilities. Which I did not use to full effect. Which I did not know how to use, period.

Then second round I used Jakiro, the twin-headed dragon (which is MZ's fav) and this time, I pawned TWO heads. TWO. Not one, TWO. (Very proud of myself, I am a quick learner) Thanks to Bra's excllent strategy and guidance. I did 'em in using a deadly combo of Dual Breath and Ice Path. And damn, the Macropyre Ulti is so cool.

I can now see why DOTA is addictive. The graphics are really quite cool and damn, I am gonna get me the CD.

And when I get me own room and me own comp, my parents will no longer know what I look like till I emerge from my lair many weeks later, hair unkempt and clothes crumpled with a dazed look and copious amounts of drool. I sense bliss and enjoyment..... on my part!

KTM

Sat on the KTM all the way to Kajang, and incidentally, yesterday was the furthest I have been away from home by myself. Yes, thanks, I am pitiful. LOL. The ride was suprisingly comfortable and not crowded. I had a good view of the stuff going on outside and it was really quite fun. Then J picked me up (the gang was already in the car) and we zoomed off to get us some curry noodles.

DOGGIES

After breakkie, we stopped by to J's place and lo! The Puppy Formerly Known as Golden was there, in all his golden cuteness. He jumped about a lot, but was all round adorable. And licky. Met Lana and Max; Lana is a really pretty German Sheperd mix and Max is a majorly drooly and ugly-but-adorable Boxer. Both were at ease with strangers. Then again, I love dogs, and even if they had both been vicious like Bra's dog I would have tried to pet them anyway. May have gotten my hand chewed off but I wouldn't have cared.

So K took Golden home and named him, you guessed it, Carlsberg. We all know that K had a drinking problem, and recovered when Ben-Eyed Moody took him to church and so he named Golden Carlsberg to remind him never to drink again and end up on the floor of a dingy and dodgy bar with three hundred and sixty one cans of Shandy in a pile next to him and two Alsatians chewing on his sleeves. He told me once that his lowest point was when he could no longer think of anymore insults to throw at me besides those about my whale-ness and lack of femininity. That was when he decided to kick the drinking habit.

CURRY NOODLES

Is one of the best I've eaten. I don't eat much curry noodles by nature, but this one was good. Not too spicy and the curry sauce was just hot enough without wreaking havoc on me insides. It was not too coconut-milk heavy and came with little bits of fish paste and meatballs. And fried tofu.

DELICIOUS PORK THINGY

All I can say is one word: DROOOOOOOOOOOOOL. Delicious. Don't really know what it's called, cause my Chinese is severely limited, but it was sweet and sour with a little wine thrown in. Very nice. Will ask J what it is called.

KAJANG SATAY

Is better than most KL satay. Seriously. In KL, satay is a mockery at most times. The beef is either tough as leather or the chicken is tasteless. The peanut sauce is normally watered down to save cost. Sheesh. And worse, in their haste to get it out, it comes half-cooked. So satay in KL, unless you're lucky enough to find one thats good, is usually half-hearted. One of the best I've ever eaten in KL is one that was near my place but moved away years ago. Sigh. Kajang satay (the one we went to eat) was good. Not the best, but good nonetheless. The beef was tender, the chicken was nice and the sauce (though they put sambal in it and I didn't quite like that) was also just right.

But in the end, yesterday was an all round GREAT outing. I enjoyed myelf immensely and will most likely do it again. Thanks to all for the great day and apologies for being such a pain in the rear. I, unfortunately, am a girl of many strange and bizarre quirks and many unreasonable phobias and restrictions. I am amazed that you all put up with me! LOL. So thanks. Having good friends is a great thing.

Ah, I end now. Don't sue me. I no longer have good lawyers because I could no longer afford to pay for their Hugo Boss suits. So now I have a never-sober, retired Matrimonial Law lawyer who cannot remember what his last name is, let alone defend my honour.

Banana Kaya Dessert, New Shoes, Maybe A Cough, Demetri Martin and Ninja Skills.

Hello all, yes, its me, PWMW, the One, the Only and the Whaley. I am Whale and proud of it. I like whales. I think they're cute. So, to prove a point..... Ta-da! This is a picture of a stuffed-toy Orca Whale. Look at it. Enjoy.

Banana Kaya Dessert

Is nice. Is tasty. Is sweet and is chewy. Could anyone ask for more in a dessert? Although the pizza at Domino's is tasteless at most times and bland at others; the Banana Kaya Dessert is NICE. It has little bits of banana on it and comes in a cute mini-pizza shape, dusted with icing sugar and topped with sweet pandan kaya. There is a hint of cheese in there too... but I was too distracted by the kaya. First time eating it and may eat it again. Seems to be the only nice thing there, really. Truth be told, Domino's pizzas are only so-so. For me personally, best of the fast-food pizza chains (meaning Shakeys, Pizza Hut, etc, not those uppity pizza places) is Shakey's. And it's not that expensive me thinks... about 5 bucks or so... it's a nice dessert la, but thats about it. But exercise caution with the pizza... eat 19 extra larges and you'll be constipated. Muahahaha.

New Shoes

Stumbled upon Vincci in my roaming of MidValley yesterday, lo! behold! They are having one of their major clearance sales (love those sales, 50% off and a lot in my size, cause 9 is not a common size) and ahaha, spotted a pair of pastel turqouise wedge sandals. Turned it over and saw RM17.95. Nearly died from a heart attack. SO CHEAP. And then, saw 9 (L) meaning size 9, LAST pair. I was gone. Slipped it on and LO! BEHOLD! It fits! I grabbed it so fast I left smoke trails. Made my decision in five minutes flat. LM and V were there; which prompted my quick decision, thanks to their valuable opinions. (Seriously. I can never make shoe buying decisions unless someone is there with me. So thanks, girls!) If I had been alone I would have been there staring at those shoes for half an hour before deciding I want a book instead; and end up eliciting a bundle of dirty looks from the shop assistant. My apologies to shoe-shop assistants everywhere. I prefer books. By far. But my brown sandals are gonna give way soon so I needed a new one anyway. Would have still preferred books though.

Speaking of books, there are classics like Middlemarch and Dante's Inferno going for 2 for price of 1.

Maybe A Cough

MZ is down with a cough and shaizer, I think I may have caught it. Had a nasty itch in my throat yesterday and coughed like mad, but it came and went as suddenly as money comes and goes. Haha. But I don't think I've got it... I am now well-defended with the return of my appetite (yay!) and my mom's Vitamin C. And since stress always makes you sick, and I am now in pace, I do not think I'll get it badly or anything.

Demetri Martin

One of the funniest people ever. And I know loads of funny people. He's a stand up comedian with the same dry wit as Seinfeld. Check out the link!

Ninja Skills

There are times when I wish I possessed HS's ninja skills. What wouldn't I give to disappear for just a while! But, in all essence, anything to do with not being seen or invisibility or inconspicuous-ness will be beyond me. Haha.

The Curious Incident of The Dog In the Night Time

The most bizarre yet interesting book I've EVER read. The sentence structure of this book is, simply put, absolutely appalling. But I enjoy long complex sentences (though this books takes long and complex to new heights, I was EXHAUSTED when I finished it) so all is well. Some of the sentences run to nearly 60 words. In all my life, even me, long-winded me; I can never achieve that many words in a sentence. All I've ever managed is 40. MAX. And that also I confused myself in the end. Every sentence in the book had me backtracking and re-reading just so I could understand what was going on. Am very surprised I finished it in under 3 hours. I was thinking to myself, 'Darn, I am going to be still reading this till I am old and grey and I have little 'uns running around'.

However, that aside, it was an absolutely ingenious, strangely touching book, with one of the most compelling and intriguing characters I've come across in a while. It really provides something new; something that was never really thought of before. If it were not for the tedious sentences, I would have given it a full 5/5. So I give it 4.9/5. Haha.

Okay, so I conclude here. Have used far too much Chlorox today and now feel very wwooozzy. Forgot I already used some and then I used some more. So double the usual amount today. Head spinning. Ergh. Goodnight all. I take nap. The Whale is OUT.

Freedom tastes like Chocolate Cake, Strange Dreams taste like Strange Dreams and erm, Let's go see Hairspray??

It was the start of what would be one of the greatest afternoons of my life; MZ giving me a ride all the way back to my place, finding that the very rich but not very sweet (aka PERFECT) chocolate cake my mom bought days ago was still sitting in the fridge (and not completely and utterly devoured by five very greedy mouths), finding that my house (which I was supposed to help clean) had already been cleaned from top to bottom (my mom yelled a fair bit about my books and notes but all is still good) and lo! I get a nice loooong nap. From around 2+ to 5+. Thats THREE whole hours of good (albeit sweaty from heat) sleep. Pure sleep. Like I've never had. No funny dreams (will proceed to regale you with one example later in this post) and no nasty leg cramps and no bad nightmares.

I feel at peace with the world and everything in it. Io Sono in Pace. Hit me with your best insult, K; I am at peace. I am Zen. I am Neeon.

Now, it also is the LAST day of exams, and oh joy, may actually pass this paper. Me don't think me will fail anything; the only paper I truly was worried about was MTA and haha, I passed. So all is good. Have a feeling Ms. Louise may have been messing with my head, but am glad Comm Theories look good too. At least I passed. Haha. I have.... lemme see.....NINE books to read. NINE. NINE gorgeously wonderful books for me to enjoy and read and read and read and read. I have... tan tara! American Gods, Simple Genius, The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon, Saving Fish from Drowning, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time, Uglies, Warcraft Anthology and the Amber Spyglass and oh hey, wow, I even have Good Omens. Make that TEN books. *bliss*

Have also chocked up two book reviews, two manga reviews, and one assignment for my editor. Also, have a Kajang trip to attend, a par-tay, a meeting with an online friend and erm, a trip to a bank with my folks using LRT. Pfft. I can't imagine my dad in the LRT. Pffft. Ooh and I want to watch Hairspray!!! Got to catch John Revolta (oops Travolta) in drag!!! J, I want to see John in drag. Please. Let's go see John in drag. Please please please. And see a singing fat girl (whom I think I will like immensely) and that whiny Zac whatsisname (whom I know I already dislike intensely). I refuse to watch John in drag alone. No way.

I have an ACTION-PACKED three weeks ahead of me and boy, am I going to enjoy it!!!! I am one of those who need to have stuff to occupy my time, because I am prone to eating myself to death when I am bored or thinking of absolute nonsense.... after all, an idle mind is HS's workshop.

Now, about that strange dream... I think I may even beat K's cow-pasture-shotgun-wedding one.

I dreamt that the world was going to end, by some bomb explosion, and the only thing standing in it's way and the utter destruction of Earth is..... my bro's tomato soup. I kid you not. Tomato soup. And we were both putting tomato ketchup into it, but the tomato ketchup won't dilute into the soup and so the soup is ruined and so the world will end. . And I was so sad. I said, "I can't be awake for this," and went to sleep. Only that it didn't end. So that was a killjoy.

The dream jumped to the next scene where I was cycling and there was this foul-mouthed little girl behind me talking trash. I got pissed and threw my bike at her and then her HOT brother came and fought me. I knocked him out and then gave his sister a lecture on not using foul language. I even shouted at the brother (before I punched him) "Do you have any idea that we all almost died???!!!"

Fast forward a few more seconds and I am working in my bro's company as an auditor and C (yes, the C we know, V) has a really pretty laptop with carvings and I remarked on how nice it was. And then some b**** cheated me off a spa treatment.

Fast forward some more and I was skateboarding all over my neighbourhood area.

*insert sweat*

True story people. Seriously. I wrote it down as soon as I woke up. I don't really remember my strange dreams, but this one was clear in my memory. Probably because it's so bizarre.

*funny crow thing*

Ahh, now that my blog for the day is done (yes, again, I know, I have NO life) I can rest easy. Will be going for nice dinner soon (favourite restaurant in Bukit Beruntung, it's a whole hour's drive from my place but food is AWESOME, they have this 'mui-choy kau yuk' that is TO DIE FOR.)

Herm. No one online. I am bored. Garn, where did I leave my Jacob's Kracks?

Girl in The Gym Bag

First of all, those who read my previous blog post may notice a sudden disappearance of the Uncle Sean bit. Let me say that in the light of recent events, I think, (though I never meant it to be, not in the very least) its in very bad taste of me to put up paedophilic jokes of any sort. I apologise.

The latest case of barbaric bestiality showcased among those who claim to be human beings is the brutal, cruel and evil murder and torture of a young girl, who is not even ten years old, whose naked body was found stuffed into a gym bag. I refuse to go into details; we all have seen her picture on the newspapers, and we all know what the details are. Its too sick for me to mention.

What I want to say here is this: WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON???

WHAT the hell is going on?? How can something like this even happen??? How can something so animal happen? Hell, even animals dont' sexually abuse other animals!!!! This is sheer EVIL!!!!!! How did we come to this?? Who can we blame??

In the end, words fail me. I cannot even think of a word to describe the evil that was done.

I am, even if never an true optimist, a believer in the good of mankind. I believe that there are GOOD people out there. But when faced with something so demonic; I begin to think that this sick bastard, who ever he is, should be identified, paraded, and left to the mercy of the public. He will wish he was never born by the time we finish with him.

The outrage now that is felt by the country, I am sure, is absolutely boiling over. I say we castrate the bastard. Then we hang him.

I only hope and pray that the police finds this f***ing bastard. Pardon my language, but this is just sick. Lets just all hope that our cops do their job and find him; I hope they don't disappoint us. But I also pray that they get the RIGHT guy. I hope that justice will still be done, and that the public outcry will not force the police to pin the crime on an innocent man.

We do not need another senseless death.

Park-ing and Paralyzation

I am greatly heartened; even after yesterday's emo-ness (which spilled over to this morning) by the fact that once again, we had a study group and studied nothing. And oh, yes, I passed both the MTA and JR papers.

I've been really emo lately. Arrived at Uni this morning, dazed, emo-ed and sleepy. Struck again by the cruel slap of a man called Count Insomnia. Struck again by the gracious (yeah right) touch of Lady Emo. Struck again by how wise my dog is; she gave me a long, hard gaze yesterday when I bathed her that said, most aptly, "You feel the undeniable urge to make me squeaky clean and fluffy soft because your life is a complete mess, and so you take it out on the only creature in the world who loves you just the way you are, ME. Now hurry up and finish so I may go back to my very important doggy affairs."

But, even in her wisdom; she is unable to deny that I am, indeed, not quite right in the ol' noggin. Sigh. I sigh.

BUT!

Today, the matters at hand are more crucial:

Parking

Parking is like a six-headed monster in Sect 14. It thwarts your every move, your every plan, and burns you nice and crisp to boot, and if you're really lucky, one of the heads won't eat you and spit out your bones. It is like Hercules against the Ah, go!-nuts..., where every time you see a potential parking you go like YAY and then when it turns out to be some skinny dude fiddling about with his car, you go like, NUTS or worse, %^!#$^%!&@#$!$!!

I don't drive, and BOY am I glad I don't. It's awful when all you wanna do is eat some ice-cream and you can't even find parking to eat it in the comfort of McD's.

But I do wish I could sometimes, drive, I mean, especially when the buses delay you and time goes a-wasting. And having only one car and no guts....

Joke: Why didn't the Pauline cross the drain??

Cause she may fall through, get stuck, break her ribs, lose her two rabbit teeth and permanently traumatise her friends with the burden of dislodging her from the drain's evil clutches.

*insert sweat* *and the funny crow thing*

Paralyzation

K, in a spurt of utter idiocy, decided to throw my own stress ball at me while my back was turned. If I had a wand and magic, o'course, I would turn him into a ferret, cowardly thing to do; to attack when your opponent's back is turned...

He hit me squarely where my Medula Oblongata is. He hit me straight at my zen-spirit points. He attacked my vital lymph nodes. I could have been PARALYZED from neck down. I can see it now, a conversation with a bewildered doctor...

"Stress, you mean, she was paralyzed by stress."
"No, no, stress BALL. She was paralyzed by a stress BALL."
"Stress Ball? How can you be paralyzed by a stress ball?"
"Well, first of all, the velocity of the stress ball was at the fatal speed of 162 miles an hour, and though she may be well-blubbered everywhere else, her neck is strangely fragile and............."

Like J said, that's stuff for a documentary man, a documentary. They'll make Nat Geo episodes out of me. Till the year 2245. (If Earth is still around by then and we're not all six-eyed and eight-legged from mutation caused by radiation from our cell phones, computers and TV's.)

And so, I conclude, and I leave you with an excerpt from a great work of literature, a symbol of high culture, a magnum opus of magnificent proportions......

The Interpersonal Communications final-exam paper, 19th Sept 2007, 0900 hours, Section B: Question 1, and I give you my WORD this is a true excerpt.

Q1. Joshua has never experienced a serious love relationship and would like to find one. Educate him about what to expect in a relationship by briefly explaining the stages of interpersonal relationships and provide examples that demonstrate each stage.'


Bozu, I bid thee good luck!

Bad dreams, bad cramps and bad decisions.

bAd dReaMs

How does one define a bad dream? Does it count as a dream when you're still awake? Because, like so many dreams I've had; dreaming awake has many traits in common with dreaming asleep. First of all, there is always that sense of ridiculousness. The thoughts of 'This s**t cannot be happening' or 'what the -?' are playing in your head over and over. Then there are the things that happen that are really unlikely if your life is as normal as you think it is.

I know I've had my life turned upside down. With more than just exams and lack of appetite. My dad remarked on how little I eat at dinner now. He said that its not like me (while he was busy chomping on some poor innocent lower-ranking dinosaurs' head), and he looked at me in suspicion (while picking the bones of the poor dinosaur that was stuck in his teeth).

Oh, gnarly, I am depressing myself out. Sheesh. Gotta stop doing that! I just gotta stop thinking.

BaD CraMps

Been having reaaaalllly bad leg cramps lately. Mostly while I sleep. I seem to have sent my mom in a frenzy (thats cause when I get cramps I start cussing like a sailor, honest. They hurt like billy-o) and my sister has become cramp-healer extraordinaire. Not something I should blog about, but I just feel like being a whiny prick for now. I apologise in advance to everyone who reads this poor excuse for a blog. Along with being stressed out and confused, I might as well be whiny too.

It gets so bad I can't so much as MOVE. I mean, I used to get them occasionally, but these weeks I've been getting them every two days or so. Started eating calcium pills (courtesy of my mom, but lemme tell you they taste HORRID, like powdery socks or something) but they is no working. Sheesh. And I do not exactly enjoy milk. Unless they come with chocolate cookies. And since me dad is diabetic, lets just say chocolate anything don't find its way into my fridge too often.

BAd DEciSionS

Now, admittedly, we all make them from time to time, and these past few weeks I've been making a LOT of bad decisions. I wish I could take them back, get another chance, do it all over again. But knowing me; I'd probably make even worse decisions if I do get the chance to do over. I handled loads of things badly; said things I didn't mean to say and did things that I would normally never do. Lost my head many times; panicked and did stupid stuff. Thought far too much for my own good; so much so I started working myself up into a bad mood (or a depressed one. Lord save me, I am turning into my dad and getting his moody ways. I've even started wandering around in Carrefour, looking at sweets and stuff I'd never buy, just like my dad does.). Huh. Many times I think too much, and the rest of the times I don't think at all.

One event in particular has had me kicking myself in the shins. It has had me banging my head against every hard surface I encounter. It has made me an emo person. I hate being emo. I was always prone to freaking out but never losing my cool entirely. I have my dad's perfect 120/80 pressure, for God's sake. I never let anyone faze me, but this time I did, and boy, do I know the reason why. I must have literally twisted my sister's ears with the way I've been going on and on. Sorry, babes. (I call my sister babes, and she calls me dude. Weird, I know, but I blame MTV.)

Anyways, I guess life is just that way. You got to take it in and when you finally meet your maker, ask him this question: 'What the HECK were you THINKING????!!!'

Cheesy tagline of the week, by the way, goes to Bozu, again!

'LAURASTAR MAKES A SUPERWOMAN OUT OF YOU!' -Advertising Copywriting paper, 17th September 2007.

You win a pair of puppy-dog slippers, no autograph though, sorry Bozu dear. I am not in the mood to autograph anything. :P

And, Quote of The Week (last week) to V, again!

'See you on the Other side, AGAIN!' -while crossing road at Section 14.

And Insult of the Month to K. Goodie you, you sorry excuse for a human being. *secretly plots revenge* *oops, not secret anymore* *but still plotting revenge*

And Weird but DAMN funny thing of the YEAR, to HS.

for introducing ...ROBOT CHICKEN!!!!!!!

And dumb person of the month, ME. Ah well.

Goodbye all.

P/S: Yes, I have no life. All I do is blog. Yarrrrrr.. Yaim not attractive....

The Attack of The Cheesy Slogans, The Emergence of the Sweat Bead and The Eruption of Emotions.

It has to happen. It has to. After all those semesters with Bozu, I have finally cheesed. Its official. I have been cheesed. Corned. Cheesed and Corned. Today's Advertising Copywriting paper saw oozles of corn. Ooozles of cheese and doozles of cheese-flavoured corn.

There was a question where we had to write a copy sheet for LAURASTAR ironing systems. My tagline was... *drum roll please*

Iron Out Your Problems.

*cue: hysterical laughter or major sweating*

That being said, I moved on to words like Shazzam, alakazam and shiskezamzam. No lar, just joking (one of my tests again), I used luxury a LOT for the first question, sorrow, grief and all sorts of emo words for the second question (in section B) and erm, I made a silent movie advertisement. *sweat*

Now that I have indeed proven I have no life beyond that of a keyboard by posting twice in a day, I move on.

Had loads of *sweat* moments lately, but I persevere. One great sweat moment is my bizarre dream where I had my own huge-ass room with a TV!!! A TV!!! All MINE!!! And where all my pals (V, K, and J) all come to my place and I had to make sure they don't encounter my dad. *insert sweat*

Sheesh.

And not to mench, the now hilarious mistake I made this morning.

My emotions are out of control lately too. And it really shouldn't be. I hate getting all emo, but damn, it seems that lately I have discovered very girly parts of me. Sheesh, I mean, there's only SO many times one can obsess about something, and I seem to be doing a lot of obsessing lately. Unneccessary obsessing. Which just proves I am a girl. And try as I might, words that I keep in my head are now settling inside my stomach and giving me nasty gastrics; which I make all the worse by not eating properly (ice cream is hardly proper, and neither is the curse), which, is not my fault because I've lost my appetite. Which is bad. I never lose my appetite. Never. I have oodles of appetite.

Sigh. I sigh.

But I go. Sleep. Its time to de-cheese and re-charge. I'll be back ya'll. Soon. To terrorise everyone again.

In the Lab of the Uni First Floor

Wow, an occasion. I sense I have lost my brains entirely due to the fact that last night was pancakes night. After all, what my dad wants my dad gets. I am sitting in the computer lab in uni at exactly 10.33 (been in here seince 9) in the morning when the bloody paper is at two. I arrived at 7.30, in all actuality, because my mom made me accompany my sis out in what seems to be her, what, 5th trip to KDU? So here I am, with J one comp away, bored out of our skulls.

Was playing Boggle; suck at it, completely. Yet I persevere. Just got whooped soundly by J. Wahaha.

Worse, when I arrived, I decided to study a little CRM, and hence, maybe my brains got dis-attached (where's my ice cream, V, I want ice cream). I panicked. I gasped. I cussed as I realise I have forgotten my calculator. I called my sis in a frantic attempt to secure a calculator (do you all sense something here? The punchline is coming) and panicked some more and went to first floor to check out the timetable; mana tahu its 9 o' clock, not 2. Then (here's the punchline) I discovered CRM is on FRIDAY. Not today. Today is AC.

So, feeling reeeaaaaallllly stupid (yes, K, I know, as usual) I trudged downstairs and lo! J is sitting there, looking sleepy.

Turns out, we both be blur. I thought today wrong subject, but he thought paper is at 9. Sigh. so now, me correct time, wrong paper. He right paper, wrong time. Sheesh. Must re-connect brain as soon as possible.

So, now going to play more Boggle and maybe Castle Defend, this twisted game on Kokorobox. Supposed to throw little stick men in the air and watch them die and go splat!

Garn. Hungry. Where's my snacks?

Behold! I present to you this very day... A Week Called INSANE.

Dear all.

Its been a week like no other; so this week shall go down in my life as the Week that I experienced several life-threathening beatings, some very insulting insults (are there any other kind of insults, really?), and some major drowning of my sorrows. So here goes. Four days worth of ranting. I wish you luck.



Life Threathening Beatings



It began with a sucker punch to my guts on Monday, courtesy of the Journalism II paper. It is to my utter despair that I report that we JR students did worse than the EL students, in general. Meaning we all did rather poorly. Sigh. I was limping out after the paper, weakened, with a red, blue, yellow and green bruise across my (always flabby) stomach.



Just when I thought I had recovered, I faced another solid ass-whooping with the MTA paper on Tuesday. This time, I was kicked in the shins, whacked in the head and bitten by some very sharp teeth around the thighs. It was my fault entirely; I was simply begging for it when I made some very bad decisions to skip classes (and if I attended, I slept). Thoroughly bruised, and not to mention with a tooth or two loose, I staggered out of the exam hall. I went home and b****ed about it to my mom, my sister and my dog, who, in her infinite wisdom, gave me a look which said," Do not bother me with your insignificant human problems, where is my dinner is a more pertinent question. Now, feed me."



And then, just yesterday, we faced the Communication Theories paper. Which I studied for. Which I actually felt ready for. Which I was sure I would walk out feeling alright. I was so wrong. Even HS and Bra going at it could not be MORE wrong. Even me in a short skirt could not be MORE wrong. I was so wrong I make wrong look right. I was so wrong, I was wrong-er than wrong. I was so wrong... You get it. I was wrong. The bleeding paper was SO hard, it made my sister's head look soft. And she be hard-headed, people. She be hard-headed. (I am not making sense anymore am I? Its the Chlorox again, I swear) I emerged from the freezing room; feeling as if someone had slapped me. Repeatedly. With something sharp-edged. J had numb hands from overwriting. K had, erm, numb brains from overthinking. I had numb everything. V had it bad too. The slapping around even knocked loose the part of my brain that was designated for dirty thoughts (standard requirement when you hang out with Bra-man and K).

So now I face the Advertising Copywriting paper. Which, I won't even assume anything about, because I've done that and that turned out SO well. So no assuming. No thinking. Just going to go in and do it. Not going to think. Gonna go with my first instincts. Just do what feels right. Use all my extra-sensory senses. Feel, not think. Enjoy the pleasurable flow of words out of my very whale-ish body. Just do it. Wait. Why am I making this sound dirty??????!!!!!!!


Very Insulting Insults

I must admit, my stress ball has made me weak. I can't seem to summon my rage, my anger, my frustration or sarcasm with my yellow ball in my hands. I become a calm, placid person. I am in tune with my zen. With my inner spiritual sanctuary. I find things that I should find insulting, funny. I am a very nice person. I am always a nice person, aha, take that. I may be fat, freakish, loud and crazy, but I am NICE. You gotta give me that. I believe in making up for what I lack. No one can blame me for being ugly, but I damn well won't be ugly inside as well as outside.

But I digress. K made a most disparaging and insulting and offensive remark about the state of my attractiveness and size. (Cannot mention here, may get arrested.) It was an excellent shot; have to give that to K, and damn, it was funny. It shouldn't be. It should be bloody insulting to me and I should be offended. If I were a different kind of girl, I would be. But I am not. So it was funny. Though he gonna get hurt reaaallll bad once I lose my stress ball (which I would be, soon, because I am very prone to losing things, and NO, NOT WHEN I SLEEP. Damn you K.).

Major Drowning of Sorrows

Yesterday makes time number 3 that I have gone to drown my sorrows in Mc D's ice cream. Let me tell you right now that there is no better way to drown sorrows than having a McD ice cream in front of you and one, two or three of your best friends there with you, also drowning sorrows. There are sorrows to be drowned, people, and we're gonna drown it in frozen milk and a whole load of sugar. Diabetes be damned! I don't care about my kidneys! About my liver! About my pancreas! Bring on the Sugar!!!!

*stuffs face with chocolates, despite mom's protest and sister's worried exclamations*

Cho. Vee mcheet chagain choon, my fwends. *chomp* Chomowo. Arrr. Vish chme chluck. *chomp chomp* Ifsh I chome chat chall. Ifsh I churvive che chnight. *chomp chomp chomp* Chmay chdie chof chugar choverdose. Arrrr. Choodbye chall. Choodbye.

I've Got A Stress Ball and I am NOT Afraid to Use It!!!!!!!

I now announce; with all the aplomb I can muster, I HAVE A STRESS BALL. Now, it may not seem like anything to blog about, but let me say this: the stress ball is man's greatest invention since the Computer and Orlando Bloom in tights.

Everyone knows that the Computer has given us the freedom to communicate; to reach out and play Boggle with people all over the world. The Computer has also allowed us to finish our assignments at 3 am in the morning... it has allowed us to rudely block and ignore people we don't like; by simply ignoring their messages... (J, of course you know who I am talking about... a certain blob-like creature...).

The Computer has allowed us to play games like nobody's business... to get addicted to Boggle like nobody's business.... to upload videos, chat with our friends. And, with it's Siamese twin, the Internet; these two shall rule the Earth.

Now, and although this is not something everybody knows (but I know and so it is enough); Orlando Bloom in tights (and also Nicholas Cage in black leather pants, Hugh Jackman in ONLY pants and no shirt, same thing) is quite a sight for sore eyes. Especially when, like me, you travel in the LRT where all you get to stare at are mustachio-ed men and fat, pot-bellied 'uncles' and skinny, gangly boys; Orlando Bloom, in his pair of elfin tights, is a wonderful eye-reliever. Unless you're one of those confusing, strange creatures called BOYS then, well... you're a boy. You DON'T have to know what I am talking about.

Ah, what with his looong blond hair and his pretty blue eyes (Orly is brown-eyed and brown-haired, but no matter, all hail the wonders of contact lenses and wigs)... I must send his parents some flowers and birds nest. Congratulate them on bringing to the world such a beautiful, beautiful man. With a smile that can light up a room. With dimples so adorable you could die. And a sexy British accent.

*if you ARE a boy, and are feeling slightly ill now, I apologise.*

But I digress big time.

Now, Stress Balls are wonderful. They can be squished. They can be smushed. They can be molested in so many different ways it isnt' real. And they dont' complain. They remain stoic, silent and patient as you squeeze, smush and pinch. They utter not one word as you bounce them on tables and floors. They are soft. They are bouncy. They are everything Bra-man would like except that they are not alive.

*if you are a human being and feeling really ill now, I apologise again*

My mom brought them home for me; so now I have matching merchandise. She brought home two, but my dad snagged the other. They're yellow; I wanted blue, so I shall continue my hunt for a blue stress ball. Then my brother can have the one I have now. I dont' like yellow much.

Ahem.

I have to go; alas! Communication Theories call to me. I have to go. Fare thee well! Dont' sue me! I have good lawyers!

Drop 'N' Gone, Walk 'N' Talk, Stress 'N' Suicide.

Today, my dear friends, is a BAD day. For many reasons; which I will proceed to lament about and literally wring out your eardrums. I am now in the throes of agony, in the midst of misery, in the undulating waves of utter dejection... meaning I feel like crap, pardon my French.

Arrived in Uni super-duper early, only to find Pak Yap and Bozu already sitting outside 201, whispering in low voices. Clock showed 7.35 am; was feeling kind of sleepy from another bout of insomnia.

Tried to study for a bit (which was unsucessful). Tried to relax for a bit (which was also unsuccesful). Tried to release stress from lack of sleep and study (which -gee, what a surprise, I see a pattern here- was, you guessed it, unsucessful).

Enter J and K and Bra-man and HS and the rest of us last-minuters and you guessed it, pandemonium.

Sat for the paper, which was so hard it made diamonds look like plasticin. Looked at the first question and thought to myself, "oh dear". Looked at the next and thought, "uh oh" and then the next question and thought "oh crapshit" and finally, the last question, the one about bloody ethics, thought "oh &@%%$#^!$#%@$#$".

To think, I gave up lunch and outing with family for studying; only to find that the questions are utter murder. Not that I could not answer; they were just really, really, really tough.

But enough about that.

Went to drown our sorrows in mamak and ice-cream and yes, you guessed it, more bad luck.

Dropped my Touch N Go card into the bloody toilet and it was lost -it is now the property of McDonalds' Section 14 toilet. Lord bless it. Lord bless me as I try to find an excuse so my mom won't behead me. Maybe will ask HS for help in the crazy excuse department.

Waited for the bus after ride in LRT only to discover my sister was home... after I boarded the bus... after waiting for 1/2 an hour. Could have saved me a dollar, I reckon, but the day continued to get better.

Sigh.

I exaggerate, perhaps; I am sure there have been other days that have been much worse (I can think of a few straight off) but today, for the fact I lost RM 15 + RM 15 just like that, it is not nice at all. And for the fact that the subject I have been striving for an A have just been shot to hell. Sigh.

Oh, but I am being whiny. There are some GOOD parts of today; ice cream, for one, and Bozu's cheesy remarks, which, as always, makes me torn between strangling him and pinching his cheeks.

And I also feel glad for a friend who has finally thrown off a BF who made her miserable. No point being with someone who makes you miserable, right?

And I feel glad that my notes, strangely enough, helped quite a few people. Normally I try very hard to help only to discover that in the end, I was just being a hindrance. *shrug* I guess its true, the road to loser-dom is paved with good intentions, of which I have enormous stocks of. Good intentions. Huh. Most of the time, me being the clumsy, awkward oaf that I am, I end up spoiling the whole broth instead of helping it, though I set out with the best of intentions.

By the way, just realised that everytime we go to the S14 mamak, I order the same things.... must order something that sounds funny the next time just because.

Ah, I go wash toilet now. Was too lazy yesterday and procrastinated, as usual. Now I shall go indulge in my weekly dosage of Chlorox.

P/S: If I should emerge online much later today, spouting the Ten Commandments and quoting Yates, its the Chlorox fumes, it'll wear off in a few hours. I apologise if I should frighten anyone off. Dont' call the cops, I am not on drugs.

BN? PAS? DAP? PPP? POP? PIP? LOL? AFK? OMG? BRB? FFK?

WOW so many choices!

When one only has ONE vote, how does one decide who to vote for? Ah, my friends, I am now officially a VOTER. I registered today. In the post office. In a deceptively simple procedure of simply producing your MyKad.

So I present to you..... (in light of my recent addition to the ranks of one gazillion people of the world who vote)

Top Ten Ways to Choose Which Political Party to Vote For.

10. Choose the party with the nicest logo. A nice, well-drawn logo is a mark of a professional logo designing agency and if the party has hired a good designer, it speaks well for the party. Remember, political-economy-media theory? It makes sense: political party + nice logo + professional media/logo agency + heckuva lotta moolah = good party.

9. Choose the party with the easiest name to remember. Because you cannot possibly be choosing one with a name like TMPPFARPAQ (The Malaysian People's Party For All Round Peace And Quiet) or TPWTBIOMIM (The Party With The Best Interests Of Malaysians In Mind) or TPWWJMOUFF (The Party Where We Just Made One Up For Fun). So, KISS! (Keep It Simple, Stupid!)

8. Choose the party with the best-looking spokesperson. If people are all delving into the world of the superficially beautiful and the degradation that is looks-obsession, then they should do it right. I mean, people all go by looks now, dont they? Well, at least most people do (and those who don't are sadly endangered) so we might as well chip in. Politically at least. Cant beat 'em? Join 'em.

7. Choose the party with the catchiest tagline. Wait. Do political parties even have taglines? Hmmm. Maybe 'Now Everyone Can't Fly Because We've Got Control of All the Airlines and We're Making It Expensive To Fly,' or ' Just Vote It' or 'Always the Slightly Smarter Choice Because You've Got Very Little Choice Anyway' or ' Ruling the Country Since 1957 and so It Makes Sense to Keep Voting For Us '. Though, all of the above are not at all catchy so maybe they should not have taglines anyway.

6. Choose the party which supports the newly proposed 'Satay, Nasi Lemak, Char Kuey Teow and Curries Act 2007'. This Act supports the right of all the citizens of Malaysia to enjoy these artery-clogging foods and receive free medical care afterwards when we suffer from the consequences. This is important, people. Some of the sub-sections of this Act are the 'Santan and Sugar Act 2007' and the 'High-Cholestrol Meats and Foods Act 2007'; all propounding the same demand.

5. Choose the party which you feel will have your best interests at heart. I mean, when your goldfish dies, or your turtle won't come out of it's shell, or your dog would rather play catch by itself, or your nose is running away and you can't catch it ... who're you gonna call? Ghostbusters? Spiderman? Superman? No! You go to your nearest Jabatan and lodge a formal complaint! Then the party will take care of your goldfish (buy you a new one), force your turtle to come out (lure it with cabbage laced with crack), force your dog to play catch with you (throw him a frisbee smeared with meat-sauce) and pump you full of Actifed for free (Actifed is a nose-problem solving medicine, my sinus-siblings use it all the time).

4. Choose the party which your parents vote for. Your parents are old. Old people are wise. Wise people know who and what they are voting for. And besides, you can always blame your parents if the choice turns out to be a wrong one. No liabilities whatsoever.

3. Choose the party whose members have the brightest, loudest and gaudiest batik shirts. One can always trust gaudy batik shirts, because people who wear shirts so loud they literally scream can always be trusted to be so 'tembok' that they'd do anything for the country.

2. Choose the party whose main HQ is located near your place. That way, when you are bored, you can always ask the PM to go for 'teh tarik'. And since he's, well, the PM, he'll get it for free and so will you.

1. Choose the party which will consider making Sleeping an Olympic sport.

There you have it, mi amigoes. Go and register if you're 21! Even if you're not 21, try anyway. Just say that you may be below 21 on your MyKad, but you're 21 at heart. Go vote, my friends. Because seriously, do we want to end up having like, nobody left to vote? The older generation won't live forever! So vote vote vote!

*Disclaimer: This top ten is strictly for entertainment purposes, not for political agenda or for propaganda (though now I am equipped with knowledge of three types of bloody propaganda), I was not hired by any party nor would I ever claim to even have thought about being hired by any party, I only wish to entertain my friends, and in a small way, encourage them to register as voters as well. And if you want to arrest me for that, damn you ISA people, you have LOST your minds*

ACHTUNG!: Use any of the above Top Ten only in the MOST dire of circumstances, and do not, at all times, actually follow it all at one shot.

Multimedia tools, Massive coronaries, Mom mayhem, Mad behaviour, Magic tricks and a culmination toward a slow painful death.

There are many strange things in my life. Truly, none so many as in HS's life, whose entire existence proves that the trickster god Anansi may actually exist. But I digress.

It is Day Two of Attempt to Study in A Group and this time, it bombed even more fantastically than yesterday. We laughed, we talked, we made jokes, we ate, we insulted, we discussed unfit things, we did everything normal (or maybe not so normal) people will do when in a study group, well, everything except actually study, o'course. Which is normal too.

Multimedia tools, I do declare, is a subject meant for those whose minds are filled with dark evil thoughts. This subject was designed to condone the twisted ways of twisted minds and to twist those who stand un-twisted to their twisted behaviour. You get it, its bloody twisted. And not the good kind of twisted way. There are many ways in which one can be wonderfully and excellently twisted (like Gaiman and his books, or Bra-man and his yellow brain, and J and his Bob the Builder speech) and maintain a healthy life and a solid education. But the kind of twistedness that is endorsed by that which we call Multimedia Tools is NOT the good kind which makes you laugh.

Massive coronaries were eminent, I do declare; when I heard the various ways innocent Christmas songs can be and were mutilated. Silver bells, silver bells, something something... *traumatised*

Mom mayhem; comes in the form of Mommy and dinner plans. I have lost count of the change of dinner plans we've had today, and it has just hit me that lately I have been losing my patience (though not my love, I love them to bits, I would take bullets for all five of my family members, I just wish they knew that!) with my parents.

It is with regret that I realise I have sounded, well, not rude per se, but impatient, cross almost, with my parents. As if they frustrate me; which they do, but then again... I just wish that sometimes, I could go off and do my own thing. It is an inherent problem in families like mine; when we are all too close, everyone is in everyone's life, no privacy whatsoever, everyone has got a nose or two in the cookie jar.

I envy, really, my friends who have the liberty (well, they have curfews and stuff but none so extreme as mine) to go off and make their own mistakes and experience life on their own. It is my wish, perhaps, someday, that my responsibilities won't be so much a burden as opposed to a privilege. I want to be able to bear responsibilities of my own and bear responsibilities for my family as well in a way that won't crush me as a burden; it will be almost a privilege instead.

I realise lately, with evermore increasing clarity, that I am extremely cloistered, and over-protected, and that someday I may lose my head completely and go raving, starking mad. And eat a chicken or two raw, perform several MZ-and-HS-style rituals and bite the head off a small defenseless wombat.

I am not unhappy; nay, far from it. I just want to please my parents in any way I can and I do it by usually just doing what they tell me to do. Still, a whale's gotta leave the, err, nest (?) someday! I do declare, right here, for all the world wide web to read that I LOVE MY PARENTS SO MUCH IT ISN'T REAL; I JUST WISH THEY WEREN'T SO ANCIENT.

Perhaps, in time, the 'jump' that J mentioned will happen.

Mad behaviour today is courtesy of K. He was almost manic and very OTT (nothing out of the ordinary, he is famous for getting high on 'ais kosong').

And Magic tricks! Due to the wonders of J and his inexhaustible supply of unusual, interesting and uncommon little bits of information; I experienced an eye-changing moment today. I crossed, I focused, I squinted -and out of a seemingly unintelligible mass of pictures came a pop-out 3-D image of a man with a sleeping child and a dog.

I never knew such things existed. Truly.

Painful and slow death, I think we all know why.

I had little sleep the night before, and with American Gods beckoning, I think I may succumb to the sweet mistress of Sloth.

And quote of the day, courtesy of V,

"See you on the Other Side!"

See you all on the other side then, truly. And if luck should so have it; I will emerge from my lair to show up in uni this Saturday.

Traffic jams, study groups and a green light.

So, after some time, I have stopped raving about the woes of public transport, I shall do so today. Today, is a MOMENTOUS Day, with a MAGNIMONIOUS traffic jam, and featuring a STUPENDOUS study group.

And let this be known: when an unusual day is on the way, there will be SIGNS.....

It started with my waking up early. Now, as anyone who knows me knows, I do not do well in the early mornings. I am grumpy, I am bleary and groggy, my hair is, well, I'd like to say a mess, but I have supremely healthy hair and so it takes only a few shakes to straighten it out, but that is not the point, what was my point again? *lost*

Ah yes, I wake up early. Perhaps, by now, you are bored with blow-by-blow accounts of my day, but I assure you it will all make perfect sense at the end of this post.

I wake up early. It is unusual, indeed, especially when I did it without a) my mom yelling and poking me, b) my dad tickling my ears or c) my sis whacking my head with my own pillow. I should have known, that today, of all the days I have lived, will be an unusual one.

To top it off, I did not attack the packet of Famous Amos cookies with my usual ferocity. Yessss.... tis strange....no?

Then, my sister asked me, quite jovially, if I needed a ride....

Then, my dad made no inquiry as to my destination....which is really really strange...

Then, I got a nice seat in the LRT despite it being 9 in the morning....which is still quite busy usually....

Then, lo and behold, J is also late for our study group and we mugged a cabbie together... (no la, just kidding, just testing whether you're still paying attention...) and we took a cab... and arrived only to find we're not late after all....

Then, V slams K and owns him round after round.... insult after insult... she insulted his looks. His brains. His manliness. His body. His height. His disposition. His life. His bloody everything. V, you are my hero. I salute you, my friend. And, to top it off, I managed to rope in re-inforcements, in the form of M.

Oh, loads of things happened today, I need more time! My sis is insisting I go sleep.

But! I shall persevere.

A momentous day. The day I received the green light from my editor to write a piece I've been
dying to write for some time. For more details, log on to www.savetamanmelawatihill.com.
I have a feeling this will be the article that could potentially make my career. *cheh wah* It is a serious, human interest, environmental-themed piece. This could be it folks. The article that will seriously, finally, give me proof that what I write will make a difference.

A magnimonious traffic jam. Actually, I know I am using this word wrongly, but it sounded so.... magnimoniuos that I just had to. But seriously, I was in the T 629 for a total of 70 minutes (boarded it at 6 but arrived at Asia Jaya at 7.10). The bus was stuck the whole stretch just before University Hospital and then at SMK Assunta. All the while, the Wallflowers sang about how they could drive it home with One Headlight. I daresay they'd get arrested but damn, with a voice like that I'd arrest him too. *evil thoughts inspired by the extreme perviness of the people I hang out with*

Then Keane invited me to talk about it Somewhere Only We Know. Talk about what I dont know, but stuck like that? I would talk to anyone. The worst parts about being stuck in a traffic jam in a bus is that a) you cant cuss like you can in your own car, b) you get weird people sleeping on your shoulder while you surreptiously try to avoid getting drooled over, and c) the bus driver has immensely bad brake control, so the bus jerks back and forth and makes you bus-sick.

A stupendous study group. Stupendous for many reasons. Stupendous insults. Stupendous remarks, of which I shall list later. Stupendously little work done. *laughs* But all in all, stupendous FUN.

And now, for the first time....

QUOTE OF THE DAY

"YOU have Outlived Your USEFULNESS" courtesy of Paula Wong, aged 19, height: short, weight: heavy. No, actually my sis is quite pretty. Hahaha. She got the looks and charm, I got the talent (not true, but me thinks if me say it often enuff it'll come true).

And, CHEESY remark of the day... IS COURTESY OF ME!!!!

' Height is BUT a NUMBER'.

Though, in recent years, believe it or not, I've come to believe it. My mom once wisely said, true love comes in many forms, and sometimes not in the form you expect or hope to have. Ah, my mom. She is the only normal member of my family, me thinks.

And she also told me once, that sometimes you should let go. So I shall let go. Of my dog. She too cute. She yawned at me. And made the funny 'aaarrrruuuu' noise. I cannot tahan. She is too cute.

Ah, my Maya. I go sleep now.

Ratatouille! Again!

And so, ladies and gentlemen, it begins again. For after FFK-ing my sister several times and FFK-ing her more times after that due to the realization that my paycheques are getting significantly smaller these past few months... I TOOK HER OUT TO WATCH RATATOUILLE, making it time number TWO that I is watching a small gray rat cooking and yanking hair.



Of course, now left with a pitifully small amount of money in bank (go ahead, try and rob me, it aint worth it, I warn you) and wallet (new! from Lovely Lace) significantly lighter, I bought my sister a dazzling pink hairband (bought one for me in black) and a nice earring. Lunch was not included, due to large packet of popcorn (I now hereby declare to all who read this sorry excuse for a blog, DONT EAT POPCORN WITH YOUR JAGA BADAN SISTER) which I finished almost singlehandedly.

Ratatouille, was, in all honesty, WORTH SEEING TWICE. I laughed at ALL the funny bits even though I knew them already. That rat punching-meat-tenderising scene.... *snort* CLASSIC.

After the movie was done (I emerged from cinema, as usual, with freezing fingers, damn I never learn do I?) we headed to Bread Story (yum yum) caught a light snack and headed home.

When arrived at home, found mom at home, sick with food poisoning. That meant that dinner was a solemn affair indeed.

Am supposed to be studying but damn, I gotta blog. Perhaps due to the fact that I am ego-centric maniac with no life beyond that of a bloody keyboard. Wanna chat too, but cant cause chances of getting sidetracked are high. Besides, I am in no condition to chat; my wallet is screaming too loudly.

So now I shall go and lick my wounds (By the way, gash on toe healing nicely, stopped limping days ago, and now back in err, action. Am staying away from escalators though.) and get back to me books. Have study group but have sneaky suspicion study group will be an affair to remember... and not for the intellectual discussions henceforth.

Ah, me go study. Wish me luck.

Badminton, Battlefield, Books, Bands, Bylines and Boys.

I understand that the title of this post is strange indeed, but perhaps by the time I am done with this post (and I have a feeling it's gonna be long one), it will make perfect sense. And, oh yeah, this one is for you, V. *grin*

Badminton.
I had the unbelievably random, wild and hilarious game of badminton on a day I shall always remember as the day I witnessed the collapse of the lucidity and mental stability of Bra-man. It began on a seemingly normal day; a Thursday, a very unremarkable and very ordinary Thursday. We had classes in the morning, as usual, I skipped the first and attended the second.
Met up with J and K in the reading room. J was engrossed in Smash Brothers and with whooping K's ass. Forced him to do work for @campus, which promptly took away all his fun.

Went to Ms. L's class, she had 'tips' for us: yeah, right. Was hoping for her to completely lose her head, declare temporary insanity and leak out all the questions in the upcoming finals paper. Heck, maybe a few questions, forced out during torture, would do just fine. But got zip. 'Cept for No Normative Theories and No Mid-Range Theories. Since I have only the vaguest of ideas as to what mid range theories are, I think this is no be helping.

Class ended early, so nipped off to PC; K had a hare-brained scheme to park at Sports Complex, but they so good go and close the parking. So had to park somewhere else. Met with Bra-man, gathered our manpower for upcoming badminton game at 1500 hours. Rackets ready, shuttlecocks ready, everything ready.

Climbed the Improbable Stairs (just take a shot at climbing 'em and you'll see what I mean) up to the Sports Complex. Went to change, and promptly, without warning, K said, to my chagrin as my hands turned the doorknob of the ladies loo, "Yo Paul, wrong toilet!!"

Was ready to commit some very serious and very harshly punishable crimes right then and there, all of which involves a lot of blood, pain and illegal (yet imaginative) uses of badminton rackets. Blood and pain on his part only, of course.

When ready, all ready, and the game started with some light warming up, and ta-da!

Got whooped first round; got paired with the Bra-man, now sweating buckets. Thirty minutes into the game, Bra-man begins to swing wildly and perform some never-seen-before moves. Bra-man now sweating enough to supply an entire African family with salt water for a month. We got soundly beaten by J and K. Game over, Bra now producing enough sweat to power a dam.

Switched, and partnered with J, who, incidentally, is quite a good player (he made some VERY nice shots, I did one or two drop shots, which were pure luck). Whooped Bra-man's and K's asses, K is better with balls than shuttlecocks, I reckon, cause he flipped out after an hour to shoot a few hoops. But while the ass-whooping was going on, Bra and K remained stoic, but after several painful defeats.....madness. Chaos.

For the first time in my life I witnessed someone making snow angels....with no snow. Bra gave up, fell to the ground and made snow angels. Kelvin rolled on the floor, helpless with laughter. J commited hara-kiri (or seppuku?) with his badminton racket. I just stood there laughing my head off.

KH, along with JL, joined, played one round of singles with him (he is also very good) and then he went off to join K in B-ball, singled with J and then time over.

Spent 70% of time there picking up the shuttlecock and laughing. Arms sore but it was an incredibly amusing and enjoyable experience which I hope we can make into a regular thing next semester.

BATTLEFIELD
Went to cyber cafe on the day before the badminton game cause Mr T ended class in what, half an hour? Played a highly intense and bloodthristy game with Bozu, K and J called Battlefield. Spent nearly 3 hours there, in SS2 cyber (which is very quiet and very nice). I totally sucked at it. But all in good fun, played a little Jedi-Knight thingamajig after that, managed to slaughter them all at some point by pure luck and some major keyboard mashing.


BooKs!!
Bought a new book today, from good ol' Payless, its amazing what one can find in Payless if one looks and lucks out. Its called The Eyes of The Dragon, by Stephen King, one I've never seen even in major bookstores and one I devoured in under three hours. Which, incidentally, I DO NOT recommend marathon reading to the sane and the intact of mind, because solid non-stop reading without a single pee-break will drive even the most sound of minds into raving lunatics. With drool.

Unless, of course, like me, you have enormous amounts of drool to spare and was always a total fruitcake to begin with, then call me. We can have lunch, then we can go find a nice cosy spot where we can read and read and read and read and read and read. And read. And then we can get married and continue reading, if you're a guy. And if you're a girl, we can always have sleepovers.

By the way, the book was literally, un-putdownable. Seriously. I could not stop. A truly engrossing book thats spares no punches and continues with page after page of action and magnificent storytelling.


BaNDs
Speaking of bands, I have come to acknowledge the pure stupidity and pure fun of the band known as Panda Head Curry. With hits like 'Samy' and 'Singapore belongs to Malaysia', it is guaranteed to make you laugh like a total maniac. I know I did, right in the middle of the LRT, which drew wary stares and some very frightened looks my way.

I am addicted also, to Alvin and the Chipmunks, garn you J, for letting me listen to this unbelievably CUTE and COMPLETELY ADORABLE squeaky-voiced animated rodents singing about Christmas in September.


ByLiNe
I got a byline on Thursday too. I know, I know. I get my bylines on Sundays sometimes, but no byline is as significant as THIS particular byline, because this is my most IMPORTANT and significant article by far. This is my first time writing a proper Lifestyle piece for a big section in the newspapers, so I am excited. I give a HUGE thank you to my editor, GE.


BOYS
And now we come to the MOST BIZARRE part of my post, BOYS. I mean, boys are, well, all-round confusing and exasperating creatures, who, unfortunately, we girls (straight, that is) like and can't seem to get away from. But let this be known: Boys are FUN. They are Fun with a capital F. FUN. They keep you laughing like mad and they introduce you to violent, enjoyable, and frivolous activites (gaming, arcading and more gaming) and they have weird yet interesting bits of information stored in their heads all the time.

Yes, there are absolute jerks out there. Lord knows I've met my fair share. These boys treated me like crap, which I, to my shame, actually took and did nothing about, but no more. I ain't taking anymore crap from jerks like those I've known.

But let just say this: Girls grow up to be women. Boys just grow up to be older boys.


I end my post here. Its been a looooong one. I salute you for your patience so far. And thank you. I now have my lawyers ready to close up any loopholes you may think you have found in your pursuit of suing me for mental torture of the most severe kind. I warn you, I have good lawyers.