LAptOp
I've got a folder with my name on it on my brother's very clean desktop. It's called 'Wong May Wan's Stuff'. It's about a 200 MB in size. It's got all my stuff in it; my Word documents, my music (cause my brother's song list is all moldy oldies and jazz pieces) and a few pictures.
I like oldies, but not all oldies.
Okay, my point is, (forgive the meandering) I need a bloody laptop. Now. Not later, now.
I dream about it.
I drool over pictures of it on the Dell website. (The Vostro has my name on it, I swear)
I am seriously contemplating the murder of a very good friend for his very 'cun', blue-coloured, silver-keypadded laptop. (Sorry, desperate times call for desperate measures, mi amigo. You want me to be happy, don't you?)
I am starting to annoy my mom with my constant badgering.
I am beginning to annoy myself with my constant badgering.
And I have sort of become a hantu-pinjam-abang-punya-laptop.
I ask him every night, with a manic gleam in my eyes;
"Do you need your laptop tonight, Ko?"
When he says 'yes', my whole body droops, my eyes falter, my grin fades and I turn my longing eyes towards his laptop, sitting pretty on his desk.
When he says 'no', my hands grab his laptop so fast it is as if Bruce Lee has come alive in me.
When he glares at me, I give him an 'act cute' grin and puppy eyes. Then he will oblige me, just to get rid of me. Then it's Bruce Lee again.
*rubs nose with thumb, ala Brucey boy*
However, when December rolls in, I will get one. God willing. I am beginning to annoy several people with my talk of 'laptop, laptop, December, December' I am sure.
I apologise, my friends. It's as if my entire life will begin with the acquiring of my own laptop. All my hopes, dreams, wishes hang upon the arrival of my very own Dell.
The climax of my 21 years of life is the soon-to-be-mine laptop, which I shall name Christian Dell. He shall be my other half. He shall be my companion. He shall be my one true love. I shall give my life to him; and will protect him with my life. No one shall take him from me.
*struggles to escape straightjacket, while three burly men in white suits injects Xanax*
LApdoGs
Maya has got a nasty insect bite on her tummy. And a patch of rashes of some sort as well. I've cleaned it out with some slightly diluted Savlon and have been cleaning it out with disinfectant. It seems to be getting better, but I've got to keep an eye on it.
Now, lapdog she isn't, but she is damn cute anyway. She has recently taken to sitting down and looking at me with innocent eyes everytime I come home from Uni. She will make her funny 'arrruuu' noises and just sit there, waiting for her customary tummy rub.
Truly, as only dog owners will know, there is nothing more pleasurable than knowing that no matter what crappy day you've had at work or at Uni, your dog will be waiting to welcome you home.
When you realise that there is actually someone who eagerly awaits your return and is ecstatic when you do, it is the best feeling in the world.
It is indeed a wonderful feeling to see your dog wagging his/her tail and being genuinely happy to see you home. I never refer to dogs as 'it', I think it's unfair.
Maya never fails to bring a smile (nay, a broad grin) to my face the moment I reach the gates of my house after a long and tiring ride on the bus and the LRT. No matter what, she is always there, happy to see me. Best of all, she loves me. And she is truly happy to see me; without thinking 'aha, she's home, now I can get her to make dinner' or ' aha, she's home, I can go to sleep'.
All Maya thinks is 'aha, she's home, dinner for me!' -which is fine, because she can't say it and so I can fool myself that she is just happy to see me.
Although one of the saddest things in the world is losing a dog, having one, in retrospect, is one of the happiest things in the world.
And there is nothing quite like the adoration in a dog's eyes, a true loyalty and affection regardless of who you are and what you look like.
Damn, it makes all the trouble I go through to bathe her and take things away from her mouth and chase her around the porch worth it.
LAzy BoNes
I've got a serious case of that. My editor called me just a few days ago, enquring of my wherabouts, sort of, at least she asked me why so long time never hear from me.
Which is very flattering (she is the editor of StarTwo after all) and slightly ominous (deadlines!!!).
But yet I cannot get myself to get down to writing. I always fear everything I write will simply not do anything justice. This is huge, people. I am afraid. I am very afraid I will screw up.
My fear incapicitates me. Agh.
In the end, I guess I'll just keep trying. One day, I will have spurt of inspiration and the words will just come out in waves. I just hope it comes soon before I get whooped.
P/S: I've got 1029 words on Nanowrimo now. Whee. Yay. Feel my elation, people. Can you not feel my joy???
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