There's one thing I want to say, so I'll be brave
You were what I wanted
I gave what I gave
I'm not sorry I met you
I'm not sorry it's over
I'm not sorry there's nothing to save

Do you celebrate the beginning and mourn the end, or do you mourn the beginning and celebrate the end?

Is it best to ignore the pains that happened and to celebrate the joy or to remember disagreements and keep them close to your heart and weep over the happiness once felt?

6 months has elapsed. This should have been a night for celebration, a memorable day spent perusing the little nooks one shares. 6 months ago on this night my wildest dreams came true - and indeed were they a wild dream. On his end Your Ex-Lover is Dead was playing on repeat. It slowly evolved into our song.

It is strange to think about that song. It certainly didn't celebrate the beginning of love (well it never actually began mutually, if you want to put it that way) instead it was the experience of meeting a lost love. Strange song for a strange couple.

Instead today was spent at a bookshop which was mutually shared, but not at the same time. Imagining him ghosting through the white shelves and gingerly fondling Atlas Shrugged as yet another quirky French film played on the television and the air thick with Camera Obscura (or Saxon Shore, today's playlist). A place. His place. Would it ever be my place? A secret kept in my heart and following twenty-four steps behind him, like a little kicked puppy?

Tonight however, the song is the one I sing - the very place I hope to reach one day where I am able to say that I'm not sorry that there was really nothing to save instead of mutely humming Reunion in my heart. Does he even remember at all or has he succeeded that much in mentally erasing me?

For I am seventeen and half alive.

Very strange living arrangement in my house. For the past 2 weeks+ my maid's daughter has been living in the same house as us - she came over from the Philippines to search for jobs a second time round after finally quitting her job back home. So now every night, her mother sleeps on the sofa in the living room and she gets the room to herself.

It's a pretty small room anyway. After more furniture got added to it (at Felice's insistence), there is literally no place to walk now inside the room.

I guess when she gets a job she'll rent a place closer to her office. In the meantime her mother looks more and more tired everyday, as if her insomnia and hard menial work doesn't tire her out enough.

Edit: Just now while washing up before sleeping, I was on the loo when I espied a strange tiny mass on the tiles inching towards me (I wasn't wearing spectacles so everything was a little blurry). At first I thought it was some fly that had gotten caught on some stands of hair and was moving about woefully, then one of those rainy day flies with long wings that land up in water patches and drown in great numbers.

On closer inspection however, it was something more disturbing. It appeared to be an almost transparent flat fat worm inching about, it's fat (relatively) sections quivering in waves with every move it made. It was about half an inch long.

So anyway to cut a long story short I squished it with loo roll and flushed it down the toilet.

The Plain White Ts have absolutely nothing on Tom Jones. Hey there Delilah? How about WHY WHY WHY DELILAH!

Next time find a more creative name which has zero links to a vocal powerhouse, albeit a totally campy one.

Edit: Sigh, I long for the day when I can go to sleep knowing I won't wake up with gastric pains the next day, being able to eat without being afraid of puking, repeat ad infinitum.

I just finished The Rachel Papers by Martin Amis, and the way it appears to parallel my past relationship is scary - startling. Almost every bit of it rang true and home.

I should probably take this to be an indication to never get together with an INTJ/intellectual again.

I have grown quite fascinated with being an INFJ (Introvert, iNtuition, Feeling, Judging), the rarest of all personality types apparently at 1% of the population - though I personally know I do deviate between E(Extrovert)/I and P(Perceiving)/J. I was an INFP last year if I remember correctly.

It's really interesting trying to learn more about yourself - and some of the things you read are simply borderline creepy in how accurate they are. I always thought my attraction to sad things was a strange quirk of mine, but apparently it's something other INFJs have in common as well.

I think he's a IN?J.

So the exams are over, the results are out - and I didn't do to badly. In fact I think I hit my goal of 34 points. But so what? My happiness does not come from there.

The meaning of my life is not exams or studies. It's like sucking on a sweet with a hollow centre, a temporary boost only to find that there is nothing substantial to it. It's like how I listen to so many new artists now, crave to watch so many good films. It's simply stomach filling, sucking on as many empty sweets as I can to recreate the fullness and sweetness that was once there. Chasing a ghost.

Fact is, now that another chapter of this year has closed, I am left wondering where to go from here. I might as well hop off a cliff, there's nothing left to think about, hope for, to look forward to - my life is meaningless. Or rather the meaning that was there is gone and can't be filled as hard as I try.

If only I was some superficial person who could be made happy with riches, items, clothes; a typical kiasu Singaporean with good marks. But no, I cannot. Nothing but what I yearn for will ever do - the rest is all empty filler.

Taken off Daryl's and the Alchemist's blogs.

I also like Metric. Send me Metric songs.

Edit: Montag is coming to Singapore! Shit I want to go, who's up for electronic/indie pop?

I'm having braingasms looking at these books!!!

Cielo bought Lies and I bought Lust (yes I know, stop laughing at me) and Sin for someone, except now there's a Love one that I didn't see at the Times bookstore - any one who sees it in Singapore please tell me! I want it :x

Yay books :D:D:D:D:D:D:D

I have come to the conclusion today that intelligence and academic smarts counts for nothing much, really.

Oh yes, it's the stupid consoling themselves.

All you really need 'intelligence' wise is the decision to not be ignorant of the world around you (though I think 80% of people fail when it comes to this clause) and enough ability to get into any university, even a not-so-good one.

Besides that all you really need is good health (though I fail in this area) and a loving family, not to mention most importantly a good heart. All of which I have (or like to think so). I'm sure I can live happily, go off get a simple degree and pop off to work in some far off corner of the world helping people. I don't need love, I just need a supportive family and a reason to live.

I am painfully aware that I am not an intelligent person, just someone who entertains the idea and enjoys the company of intelligent people. No wonder he left - he saw right through my fraud. Stupid people don't deserve intelligent ones, they ruin the gene pool or something.

When I first came to ACSI, first thing I thought was, "Holy shit, how the hell did I get here?", I always thought it was an accident. Today I'm very sure it was really God's will to just let me meet a bunch of wonderful people and have a taste of an ideal that I wanted, but now know will never have.

Funny, the way I'd carry on you'd think I was a God-less person. Truth is I fell when my world fell - all because of 'love'. Strange thing it is, when the heart is either filled with love or filled with broken pieces, it feels like it's going to explode. Anyway I digress, if God has a plan for me I'm sure it'll be good, even if it's not at Columbia's Journalism school (masters btw), it'll be doing something I love. Even if I'm not an intellectual being (which I'm not anyway), at least God gave me the passion and heart to want to help and do something responsible with my life.

Results are out tomorrow. I hope I get at least mediocre grades. I also hope my mock SAT isn't too bad. Anything more than 1500 will do.

Oh my God, I hate stupid people. I hope these are trolls.

Question: What are the reasons behind the holocaust?

Yes thank you for enlightening me about his sexual orientation, I fail to see the relevance to the question but yes, he was 'messed up in the brain'.

I know I KNOW. I also know you sound like a 10 year old kid, and I hope to hell you are.

Not forgetting those which are just so epic that words completely fail me.

And of course ending off with...

Bloody EE.

Yesterday's Oktoberfast provided more interesting insights than the intended 'experience one night as a homeless person'. For instance just watching how differently the females and the males operated kept me fascinated for some period of time.

The girls and the guys had to sleep separately, which made sense. However this meant I would be stuck with a bunch of girls I didn't really know at all :/ and the few that I did know were casual friends in their own cliques.

Reluctantly holding onto my cardboard (I think I was given the biggest piece, goodness knows why), I walked over to the girls side of the field and was at a loss at how to cope with the familiar faces yet unknown people and ended up latching to Asyikin when she appeared later on the field with someone-who's-name-I-know-but-don't-know-how-to-spell-who-I-say-hi-to-when-I-see -her. Blah :x

Anyway the girls unanimously decided to work together as one huge group and clumped up together, then some took the lead and planned and gave directions, which I gladly followed since I had no opinion on the matter. Looking to the right however, the boys had all split up into their own little groups with little interest of 'unity' with the other guys.

Then later when the males and female were reunited in the common area, the females continued to clump together, to the point that I felt weird going over to sit with the people I knew from class, like Chooway, Ted Kin, Gerald, Joash and Elliot. In the end I aborted my mission followed Mary Ang around -_________-

After a while however, the girls fragmented back into old cliques while the 5.9 guys hid in male territory and refused to come out >.<>Gabriel Garcia Marquez's Memories of My Melancholy Whores which Cielo had lent to me at the area outside the squash courts, sitting next to a decidedly busy and stressed Cielo.

Eventually however people started to drift to the squash courts area, some to eat the biscuits that were provided (which I did), others to talk in a dry area and so on. The boarding school had a fire drill, and later on teachers and Drong had a fine little inspection of our area, impromptu.

It wasn't till 11:00 when the counselors were chasing us to sleep did I go, and I kept being woken up various times throughout the night. Finally at 5:3o we were woken up and herded like sleep by Cielo & Co.

Thanks to the lack of sleep, I drifted off during the SAT talk and The Englishman's HL english review (thought it might be that I was just bored, hmm). Still the entire experience was an interesting one, though one I don't quite feel like repeating for a long time.

And yes, I do know there are homeless in Singapore, I've seen them before late at night - hiding under their pieces of cardboard.

I really ought to stop the things I do - like reading his blog, since it shouts nothing but casual disregard and things like IT NEVER HAPPENED AND I'M IN LOVE AGAIN.

And looking at last.fm and thinking, "I'm home wasting my life away while he's out and about carrying on like before".

The Alchemist spoke once, before a paper (English? I think), and he told of this girl he clinged onto for 3 years. I can't say that I didn't react to that with complete empathy, "Oh I'm going to be like that too! I'll never get out of this horrid mess I'm in", nor snobbish disdain, "3 years!!! How pathetic! I'm not going to be like that".

Fact is right now I'm a stuck wallowing in a hole, I have no either how the hell to get out and all the same I don't really want to - I don't know and don't want to let go. Call me silly, self pitying and all - but there is nothing to fully describe the feeling of fully letting go of what you once had, even if what was there is long gone. The heart and mind simply doesn't want to face reality - to put in bluntly.

It doesn't help by far with his personality and the fact that we are in such close quarters. The way he ignores me and pretends like we are even less than classmates - the meeting of eyes and the cold indifference I feel shooting through my very being: I feel like I am being erased from everything. Forgotten. One of my greatest fears.

Oh I really should not be saying such private things in a very public blog, but tonight is a night that I have no time to jot it down in my own personal diary. The fluidity of typing also helps me to channel my thoughts better rather than writing it down.

Tomorrow night is OktoberFast, I hope I don't faint and collapse; though right now that sounds like a terribly comforting idea since there is no telling where a unconscious mind might wander.

Just as I get the inspiration to start on my Econs commentary, my index finger starts hurting from the bite my brother gave my just now in the car.

It was so painful and he left teethmarks in it and it started to bleed. Even now hours later you can see red marks from where his teeth were.

Bloody hell. But physical pain I can handle, better than the other sort.

One day a little boy walked up to his teacher and asked, "what is love?"

The teacher replied, "I will tell you, but first you must go into a large field of corn and bring back the largest ear to me. There is a catch: you cannot go backwards."

So off the little boy went to pick the largest ear of corn. In the cornfield every time he thought he saw the largest ear of corn, he decided to venture onwards in the event he might see another larger one. In the end he came to the end of the field empty handed and returned back to the teacher mournfully, thinking about the large cobs that he had missed earlier.

"This is love," the teacher said, "you keep looking for a better one but you only realise it when you have already missed the person."

--- A short story Cielo and I saw today while out, make what you will of it.

OMG FUCK I JUST FOUND MY LOST IPOD SHUFFLE...

IN THE POCKET OF THE PAIR OF SHORTS I'M WEARING (same one I wore for Ironman).

AND IT DOESN'T WORK ANYMORE*.

$(&*@$&@#(!@)!_@

*(it went through the wash -_-)

Stupid thing was so small even the maid didn't notice it as she ironed it -_- and when I brought it back from my grandma's place I didn't notice it either. It also took me like 10 minutes+ of wearing to even notice anything was in the right pocket too. Grawrgh.

The more time I spend at home with nothing in particular to do; the worse and more pathetic I feel. I actually sort of miss the exams for that reason - not that there is a lack of work to do (TOK, EE drafts, Econs IA3, World Lit assignments), but work which is immediately pressing that cannot be put off :/

I need something to occupy my time that is more meaningful than multiplying and killing sims.

Edit: I feel a manic episode coming ): I guess it was just in hiding for the past day :x nevermind, hopefully going to Gerald's place and interacting with people will chase it away.

Okay shhhh, thanks to all who were concerned but my episode is over now.

Nothing strange happened today to me, so yes. I guess it's over for this time.

Blah - been having a manic episode. Hopefully it'll stop soon.

I just realised how much I freaking hated the church I used to go to - and you know what? No way in hell am I going back, even if you threatened me to hell.

I have nothing but unhappy memories from there. Ohh what happened to Melodie? YOU happened to me.

Assholes.

HAHAHAHA I am descending into darkness.

FREAKING BAD DAY >.<

And I lost my wallet.

Highlight was when I actually found it at the estate office. Thank you kind anonymous. At least your thoughtfulness my day a little easier.

No mood to blog. Grwarhg ($)RU*#$(@$I)C

Facebook is very much a tool that digs up relationships past and present - the good and the bad.

With the recent addition of someone, it's almost as if I've come (almost but not yet) full circle from the young girl at 13, crying - to one 2 years later and evidently not any wiser - to the present 17 and still equally screwed, ways of coping getting less and less destructive and the pain being magnified that much more.

Sometimes I wonder, especially now if I have really become a better person - compared to who I was am I a much better person? If he sees me now: what will he think? Be glad he left so quickly or be filled with regret? The little person inside me thinks it's the former - but do I really care all that much anymore? I don't know.

On the other hand 2x choc cheesecake from nydc is so sinfully sweet that it negates any melancholy I might feel writing this post. Cheers to placebos to help us forget the past and pain; even if only temporarily.

Darren san sent me this link about right brain/left brain. It's not tedious, basically all you have to do is look at a picture and determine it's direction.

For me it's strictly clockwise all the way, I can only see it as counter clockwise if I cover up the feet and the torso of the spinner. Darren, Daryl and Nic all saw it as a mixture of clockwise and counter clockwise (looking away and returning to look at the picture again).

What do you see?

Definitions of degenerate on the Web:

pervert: a person whose behavior deviates from what is acceptable especially in sexual behavior

debauched: unrestrained by convention or morality; "Congreve draws a debauched aristocratic society"; "deplorably dissipated and degraded"; "riotous living"; "fast women"

devolve: grow worse; "Her condition deteriorated"; "Conditions in the slums degenerated"; "The discussion devolved into a shouting match"

My usage: my brain has degenerated as a result of studying too much.

For the past month or so, anytime anyone used the word 'degenerate' (I think Daryl and Nic?) I had no idea what they meant. See I had studied Biology so much till the word 'degenerate' automatically had the association of 'more than one gene coding for a amino acid in RNA translation' in my mind - completely erasing prior memory of de-generate (generate backwards if you like).

And of course for all my hardwork, Murphy's Law JUST HAD TO KICK IN and I blanked out during Bio. Fuck.

It was the subject I had honestly studied for the most and aimed the highest for, and I blanked out (well not totally, but I forgot enough things while my mind was screaming 'HEY I KNOW THIS!' during the exam to upset me enough). Hooray.

Today for the first time in a long while, I actually felt bored. It felt disconcerting, like there was something missing in my life once more.

I almost set myself on fire just now when I tried to cook instant noodles for my dinner. Whoosh, a medium fireball flew up and ignited itself around my upper torso and arms... but nothing happened to me except a huge shock (I'm not actually sure if it's possible for me to catch fire that way? Am a chem/physics idiot).

Anyway moving on to other things, there's a bit of Blackwater being mentioned in the news today. Till Darren sent me this article, I had no idea how bad things actually for. For most of this and the past week, my thoughts were occupied with Burma.

Messing around a little with google, I found this video on them. The wikipeidia article on them also made me laugh a little. I quote:

"(the founder, Erik Prince) He also serves as a board member of Christian Freedom International, a nonprofit group that provides Bibles, food and other help to Christians in countries where they face persecution."

Oh yes, very Godly indeed, and people complain when they're wondering why there aren't more converts to the religion. Fact is, Christianity is one of the most well documented religions suffering from hypocrisy*. Before you go off launching a tirade on (the perversion of, hopefully) Islam, please look inwards and analyse yourself before you even think to cast the first stone.

Edit: On a lighter note, check out Passchendaele by the Goodbooks, apt song on the eve of the History paper (:

*with this I refer to the fact that Christianity is more widely known and in the public eye than any other religion, I'm sure other religions suffer from hypocrisy too.

It's been a full, fat, month.

This reminds me of the time I was waxing (and very badly too) lyrical about the moon and how I used it to remind me of how long it'd take till we'd be together again.

But now staring the shifting moon, I know that we'd never be again.

As for me? I don't feel anything anymore. I just simply don't feel. There is a yawning blank where you once occupied. Hole-y I am.

Economics tomorrow: argh ($(@#$*@()#) I hope I can remember all the stuff I studied :/

Went to the study in USA fair today at the Pan Pac, what a wonderful waste of time >:(

1) Location hard to find
2) fake Columbia is not a good idea... talk about being low class (this reminds me of the other time I found fake Oxford College, but they have since changed names)
3) Only big name: NYU Tisch. Problem: Asia campus, and only for post-grad degrees (for Chun Wai and Mong)

In short it was quite a waste of time, no huge names (which was understandable though), and I didn't really know any better about studying in the US than I did before I went.

Exams start tomorrow!

I have not written in a long time.

Libération

The moment he stepped out of the door, leaving it to close agonisingly slow and deliver an ashamed click, she got up and dried her tears. Jumping to her feet, she raced to the bathroom – an uncontrollable urge to see her face as if it had been drastically altered within the last hour since she’d last checked her hair.

The same face she had beheld for years appeared before her sight, eyes slightly redder, hair messier, lips puffy from the collagen that was tears. Slowly lifting her hands to touch her face, she traced her fingers over the gentle contours of her face, recalling the places where he had once occupied – he and the others before him, staking their claim on her but soon relinquishing their ownership. Then she had an epiphany; it was her, this hateful detestful face that brought her downfall every time.

Every single one of them, the silver tongued fools – they never loved her, instead they loved her. Oh how they spoke about how beautiful she was, the thoughts choked her like a string of cursed pearls: every single bead a compliment paid in return for something. Suddenly seized by an overwhelming hatred, she looked upon her face with great distaste, you are my undoing, she thought. The more she began to consider her thoughts rationally, the more they began to build up momentum and take a life of their own. Every single self pitying phrase, insult, insecurity rose up and joined its ranks – marching onwards in a great movement.

No more no more she cried out finally, great passion and hurt flooding over her person. Quietly slipping into the mode when passion has completely overwhelmed reason (or perhaps reason itself has fled), she grabbed at a razor blade sitting quietly on the counter top and started to tear into her face. With every cut she made, with every slice into thin skin, she felt the burden from her heart slowly slip away. The pain made her freer – the tears she cried stung the wounds and the sight of the streams of blood and tears dropping into the once pristine white sink liberated her further. Her mind flashed through a thousand days, every man that she once loved – every little thing cutting her inside and being repaired simultaneously by the cuts she was now making.

Finally exhausted with emotion and physical pain, she made her last cut into her cheek. Letting the blade fall into the sink from her now bloody hands, she ignored the small clink it made as she once more beheld her face. Lines were scored into her face, bare red flesh peeping out, and what remained of her face caked in blood, she was finally gone. She smiled and she sank to the floor and started to drift off to sleep on a puddle of blood. She had never felt so satisfied and at ease with her spirit before.

For no more would she be undone by man, for they would no longer want her.

I feel very used now.

Disturbing: my arms can't stop trembling/twitching even when I just lie them on the table, and no, I did not partake in my usual dosage of anarex (goodness knows why there is hardly anything on this drug online... suspicious) - no headaches today, thank goodness.

Been staying in school till past 8 the entire week to study, very tired and exhausted. Part of me cannot wait for the exams to start so I can get it over and done with :x Health is also starting to get bad, combination of stress and less sleep. Urgh, hope I don't fall sick in the middle of the exams.

Now back to Bio.

Edit: back again. What the flying fuck, I can't believe this is actually true >.< this world is going to hell faster than I think it is.

How embarrassing, while hopping off a table in backstage during honour's day today, the entire top flew off along with me, dumping stuff all over the place >.<

Also, having reverse weeaboo constantly poking you to READ FASTER, READ MORE LIVELIER, and the pe teacher entering your personal space to cross out names and block your line of sight - is not pleasant. Add in the fact that I was scared of messing up, and I was literally quaking on stage as I read out names :x

I need CAS.

Mud! Kip!

As much as it goes against what I really feel, I really love Rilo's Breakin' Up, it can get me dancing in my seat and singing along. Besides that song and Silver Lining, I don't really like Under the Blacklight. Doesn't sound like them at all.

School tomorrow :x

Edit: I just realised tomorrow is the 24th. I don't even remember of keep track anymore...

There's probably a good reason why the girl depicted in the caricature of the 'sexual predators' article on the front page of today's paper looks like she's in the MGS uniform.

Won another solitaire game with a score of 3609 and a time of 238!

Perhaps it'll be a better day, after many more sunsets.

If it wasn't without friends, I honestly have no idea what I'd do.

Eating greasy and strange tasting french fries outside the squash courts, hopping with bare feet on the bouncy astroturf and wanting to scream the life out of me, to listening to chiseled together white stripes in the drama room, sitting on dusty steps as the sun set with it's orange rays as the birds flew away from the trees.

Even though life is anything but perfect, it doesn't take much to appreciate it and live it to it's fullest (:

To everyone that was there to help me today, Daryl, Song, Gen, Mong, Kevin, John, Chooway, Darren and Cielo (+ Sir), thank you. Your help means so much to me.

I need to be strong and fight my way out of this, somehow: and I need all the help I can possibly get :x

As fast as the tarp has been thrown over the shattered remains, it has been cruelly snatched away as more of her fell off into it.

The little things - they call out to me. He never understood them, never connected despite his constant searchings for them.

And it is with these little things that I am left with, a little touch of humanity in a cold world out there, someone else to share my ever present sorrow:

"The message which has been left for you is:

If she only knew how much I loved her"

I just had supper with my father, and something in what he said makes me think he still carries a torch for the girl who left him before he met my mother.

Suddenly the world seems deeper and more shadowy than before.

Whoosh. Haven't been able to blog coherently in a while other than random thoughts strung together.

Friday
In the morning as I was waiting for the bus to come, I was eating a banana and standing at my doorway, looking out at the road when suddenly a dragonfly flew in, perused by a winged black figure.

At first I thought it was a bird and was all 'OH NO' because I HATE flying stuff near me, I'm scared of them landing on me or something (long story from when I was a kid) and the fact it was going to be stuck in my living room. Things could only get more worse/interesting from here.

The fan was also switched on and before I know it there was a freaking bat being sucked around in circles which were getting smaller with each round. Fuck. Splatter bat is not how I wanted to start my day. By this time I had ran towards the kitchen, away from the power switches, adrenalin coursing through my veins with every extra minute and freaking out at WINGED FLYING CREATURE.

After staring at it for about 1-2 minutes, my mind shouting "DO SOMETHING THE BUS WILL BE HERE SOON!", I dashed across the living room and switched off the fan and ran out of the house with my bag. I never did see the bat fly out, but when my dad came down 1-2 minutes after I ran out of the living room, he said he didn't see a bat anywhere. Hmm.

Monday
Chapel was by Truth Ministry in the Boarding School Dining Hall and we had to sit on the floor again. Really inconvenient for the girls given how tight and short the skirts are.

Anyhoo, the sermon was massive fail. It started off well enough, then MR failed and the music video, which was revealed to be Linkin Park's Numb didn't play. The topic was 'Hear No Evil'.

The sermon came across as being ill informed, bigoted and badly done overall. For instance Linkin Park was given as a negative example because it supposedly 'numbed' teenagers to God given life. Hello dearies, you have not seen anything yet - Hawthorn Heights anyone? (thanks to Nic)

"(YOU...KILL...ME...WELL)
So cut my wrists and black my eyes.
My final breath is gone
So I can fall asleep tonight"
- Ohio is for Lovers

Now see, that is negative. And that's just emo, I thought they were going to talk about rap music's obsession with sex and money, heavy metal bands rocking about rape (I swear I saw some band with Inter-(something) as a name and Turned Off By the Vaginal Stink on someone's last.fm), to the plain satanic. Why. Linkin. Park. Fail example, really laughable. Even Marilyn Manson who is just weird but perceived to be satanic is a better example.

Not only that, the lady went on to talk about her friend's daughter who read 'dark books' and later committed suicide. Now see, wtf dark books? Depending on your stance, The Anarchist's Handbook is a dark book, Harry Potter and LOTR too! And she blames the books for the suicide, if you're making such a devastating claim, tell us what titles the books are to substantiate your argument! (And I just realised this has nothing to do with Hearing at all.)

Then there was the most wtf analogy I ever heard, good and bad as a black dog and a white dog. "Feed only the white dog because it is good! Black dog is bad." Talk about having racist undertones.

Good intentions, but one of the most naive and stereotype-of-a-Christian (the speaker) sermons I have ever heard. If you're so passionate about it, please go do your research and think about your audience, at 17 you're already educated enough to be cynical - much less my school where you have to be cynical in order to survive.

Blogging should be less now, exams start on the 1st October, less than 2 weeks away! Eeep.

I sit here, music playing, air conditioner blowing, electric lights switched on half dazed typing Ecology notes out.

CONSERVE ENERGY!

ALTERNATIVE FUELS!

There is heap loads of irony here but I am too tired to appreciate it.

One thing I do know for sure, I really don't want to introduce any more inhabitants to this fast- becoming-God-forsaken place.

Facebook's warbook app is like epenis - and I RESENT IT WHEN PEOPLE TRY TO KICK MY EPENIS. Blargh!

No time for proper post ):

I listen to the old songs, singing to them in a whole new way. They are you, of you, because of you. In moments where the energy is gone from me and there is simply nothing in me left for much emotional response, I am able to sing without tearing the least - freedom yet imprisonment at the same time.

They both drown me and save me at the same time, a heartless lover.

I know he doesn't read this anymore, his way of running away I suppose. Running and leaving me behind. I want to run away too, but am shackled here. All the same I cannot bear to leave.

For those of you who do not know, I don't want to beat around the bush anymore and if you didn't guess from my cryptic posts - he left me 2 weeks ago.

I am the same, yet no more.

This calls for a teary rendition of Reunion and more exhausted pleas of the heart to the stone.

I had just finished lunch and was sitting around the dining room and finishing up the rest of the paper I was reading when my dad called me from the computer table, in the living room.

"Hey look! You're not as useless as I say you are"

I went over and he merrily showed me this website: http://marryourdaugther.org/. Yes you got that right, it's MARRY OUR DAUGHTER, a glorified matchmaking site.

Imagine my wtf meter as I saw advertisements like:and...

There was one selling for $3,995 too.

Okay, now would be a good time to declare that I have lost 99% of faith in mankind of the already 75% lost years ago.

To my relief however when I googled it on my laptop later, I found out it was a hoax, and a really good one at that. I was just about to launch into some pro-individualist, pro-feminist spiel and condemn all men to the depths of hell for even thinking of engaging is such business - but as I said it was a hoax. A thought provoking one at that, since I imagine much of this rubbish still occurs in third world countries around the world.

Terribly really - and the fact that we need such websites in order to recall their still common occurrence around the world.

我真的不了*情.

(*解)

Your EQ is 133

50 or less: Thanks for answering honestly. Now get yourself a shrink, quick! 51-70: When it comes to understanding human emotions, you'd have better luck understanding Chinese. 71-90: You've got more emotional intelligence than the average frat boy. Barely. 91-110: You're average. It's easy to predict how you'll react to things. But anyone could have guessed that. 111-130: You usually have it going on emotionally, but roadblocks tend to land you on your butt. 131-150: You are remarkable when it comes to relating with others. Only the biggest losers get under your skin. 150+: Two possibilities - you've either out "Dr. Phil-ed" Dr. Phil... or you're a dirty liar.

What's Your EQ (Emotional Intelligence Quotient)?

I finished the article! Only thing is I need to run it past editorman, Daryl :/ Hope it works, can't think of another way to approach it.

I was looking through the pictures I took yesterday after school, and of all of them this has to be the most mindfuck picture, ever. Bonus points if you can guess which part of the school this is.

Won another solitaire game with a score of 4170 and time of 200, for whatever consolation that is.

I feel like a black hole again :x

My imagination is so vivid that I actually feel kind of creeped out over the article I'm writing for !nk now...

and...


I FINALLY WON MY FIRST SOLITAIRE GAME! (On my own laptop! :D)

Just finished the worst piece of Chinese work I have ever written... and it doesn't even have 老虎 in it. Wait I just got an idea to add it in!

Anyway it's so bad that I feel embarrassed to write my name on it :x blah. I swear my Chinese has gotten 10,000x worse that what it used to be in MGS where I would literally fail everything but somehow managed to scrape a pass for the O levels :/

Haha. I am the bane of the school because I pull their precious 6.something average wayyy down. Now if only they had offered Japanese ab. I would have taken it up...

Freaking irritated with the parents now because there was duck in last night's soup and they didn't tell me, and when I got upset they laughed at me.

When I was Pri 5 I had two ducks and one day my parents gave them to the grandmother to kill. To add insult to it, they cooked the ducks and ate them in front of me. Can you say childhood trauma? Wtf wtf wtf wtf.

Ever since then I never ate duck, freaking disgusting. My parents know that I refuse to eat duck and yet they don't respect my choice enough to even tell me. It's not like I impose my views on others, I don't stop people from eating duck, I just don't eat it myself. Even that they won't allow me. As if it's not bad enough that when I'm sick I end up being scolded for falling sick and 10,000 other bits of shit, like they don't take me seriously at all.

Fucking irritating.

What the hell, I just wrote half an EE for the latest Sir reverse weeabo's prose. I hope I do well enough to justify the irritation, frustration and time spent on it.

I'm going to get myself a tree ^_^

This is my gift to myself.

せんしゅう.

At the end of the day it is the old evergreen songs which remain and speak the most of our hearts.

不了情.

The holidays are just about ended *cue massive groans from all around*, and for the first time I MANAGED TO WATCH EVERY SINGLE MOVIE I WANTED :D

Saturday night was The Willow Tree with Patrick, then on Tuesday I watched Jesus Camp with the father, I saw Ghosts with Darren san, Kevin, Nicholas, Mong and Ben Soh on Friday and today was The Home Song Stories. I must say of all the movies I loved The Home Song Stories the most, it was just so tragically beautiful and the part was wonderfully acted by Joan Chen. One can only hope to look that good at her age!

Film gushing aside, I have )($)@# pile of work to deal with. I tell you this school is mad, with so much work the clear how the hell do they ever expect us to get down to studying for the End of Years? These are supposed to be the best years of our lives, not the most stressed-out-bogged-down. I have so sold my soul ):

It's a minor thing, but changing them means no turning back;

The final nail in a coffin long deep into the ground and buried.

Not as if there was a corpse to cry over in the first place.

Fin

I am starting to get very annoyed with my gender.

Today after Econs I went to the National Library with Daryl and Ted Kin, they were going to do research for TOK and I figured I might as well get some work for EE done. We went to put our stuff in the lockers before entering the reference section, and I had a most unpleasant encounter with some of them.

There were 2 of them, perhaps my age or a little older, and they were putting their stuff into the lockers as well. I was taking stuff out of my bag, including the Mandarin B past year papers booklet which I placed on the floor and was faced upwards.

Girl: "Eh is ACSI the same as ACJC?"
Girl2: "Dunno lah, why did she *indeciperable* do that, to let us see issit?"
Me: (thinking) "What the flying fuck?!"

However like 30 seconds before I was there, there was this other girl in an ACS(International) shirt and FBTs at the locker area. So I had no idea who the hell they were referring to, but was sufficiently pissed/shocked anyway. Then when I got turned away by the guard and returned to put the booklet back in my bag, the two girls were talking again.

Girl?: "Haha, she's back again, got turned down."

WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF. I was too shocked to do anything. but believe me I was damn pissed after that. When I told Ted Kin and Daryl, Ted Kin said I should have beaten them up. Hah. I hope they get the men they deserve :D :D :D :D :D

Then later in the ladies were another bunch of irritants, not sure if they were the same group since I couldn't recognise them, and they were half gossiping/bitching -__________-

DIE ALL OF YOU IRRITANTS!

I'm a modern girl
but I fold in half so easily.

Is it better to love or be loved?

There’s a famous song, popularised by the movie Moulin Rouge which carries the line “the greatest thing is to love and be loved in return”. Perhaps to a dismissive cynic, that line would be thoroughly scoffed at and swept away under a cloud of criticism of naivety, surely you jest, they say, some people prefer money to love, you poor innocent child. From a romanticist view however, love is everything in the world and more. However this isn’t meant to be a discussion on love being great, but rather when love fails (for it can be said it is not true love unless it is truly reciprocated) in the true sense of the word, when it becomes one sided.

I’d assume that most of the people who read this would be at least be adolescents or older (or else I’d be kind of afraid due to some of the content on this blog), and we’ve all gone through situations where we’ve fallen madly in love with someone who won’t give us the time of the day, or to that effect. More uncommonly is the situation when someone falls in love with us and we are unable to return the sentiment. I personally have been on both sides of the story, and both are unpleasant enough for me to want to dismiss love as being the stuff of pink unicorns and flying spaghetti gods. Unfortunately I haven’t been a hardened enough cynic to close off my mind to the widespread evidence that romantic love does exist. Perhaps one day, but not to-day.

Somewhere along the line, someone decided that one-sided affairs should be romanticised. From the pages of Cyrano de Bergerac to the myth of Echo (sorry my knowledge of contemporary literature has failed me this time), the ones who love with no affirmation are regarded as the heroes, poor tragic heroes. They are the ones who goes to great lengths for their loves or die from sadness. Even today we always tend to pity the ones who cannot stop loving, and curse the ones who cruelly refuse this love. But what does it really feel like to love with no hope of reciprocation? (Oh how the mind is such a twisted tool when overwhelmed with the feeling of love.) We hope against hope that one day the person will come around and love us back; we vow to sacrifice our lives and everything we hold dear just for the happiness of the other; we despair when the person is so out of reach; we are overwhelmed with happiness at the slightest sign of reciprocation. We are fools, truly fools in love, but romanticised figures nonetheless.

And on the less reported side of the affair, there’s the lovee (the target). Often the lovee doesn’t even have the slightest inkling about the lover’s intentions at all, as much as the lover fears he/she is overtly obvious, so such experiences are much less than that of the lover. I personally hated being a lovee. There were no highs, only lows. I felt like a bitch for not being able to return the affection, and indeed I was villainised as such by the people who were friends with this lover. On the other hand I was filled with a paranoid fear that this lover would stalk me and hurt me, though that was quite an extreme case. The worst part being a lovee is that it is often a fight between one’s conscience and one’s heart. We are often compelled to try and force ourselves to return the feeling out of obligation while our hearts are screaming no no no! We are the villains, who unthinkingly hurt the heroes of the story.

The problem for both sides though, is that love is not something controllable, you can’t change the way you feel, it just happens on it’s own. You can’t force someone to love you; you cannot add ingredients and expect it to just pop up. You cannot shower someone with love and expect them to love you back if they don’t. In some cases love can be cultivated slowly, like in arranged marriages, but that it quite a moot point in today’s modern society. You can however, fool yourself to think that you’re in love, but that’s not love is it? You’d just by lying to yourself. Similarly as a lover you can’t change the love you feel. There is no wrong and no right, there is only a mess and sadness.

Bottom line? Love stinks, yeah yeah.

Downtown Singapore at night is filled with 4 kinds of people; the broken, the homeless, the lover and the young.

Last night I was all 4 at the same time.

Okay wow, in 7 hours all the volunteers have to report at the Marina Barrage for the Aviva Ironman Competition. For those lazy to calculate it's 3am, 2nd September.

While everyone sensibly went to nap in the afternoon, try as I might I couldn't fall to sleep at all. For over 5 hours I tried, yielding less than 30 minutes of rest. Curses. Tomorrow will be hell in more ways than one.

Big Five Word Test Results

Extroversion (67%) moderately high which suggests you are, at times, overly talkative, outgoing, sociable and interacting at the expense of developing your own individual interests and internally based identity. Accommodation (78%) high which suggests you are overly kind natured, trusting, and helpful at the expense too often of your own individual development (martyr complex). Orderliness (44%) moderately low which suggests you are, at times, overly flexible, random, improvised, and fun seeking at the expense of structure, reliability, work ethic, and long term accomplishment. Emotional Stability (35%) moderately low which suggests you are worrying, insecure, emotional, and anxious. Inquisitiveness (70%) high which suggests you are very intellectual, curious, imaginative but possibly not very practical.

Take Free Big Five Word Choice Test
personality tests by similarminds.com

I'm pretty sure somewhere down the line I've already taken this test, but here goes again.

31st August - Teacher's Day. In the morning after getting some really crappy nuclear waste looking pandan cake from one of the titbit stores, I followed Joash to the staff room and there I was kind of surprised when I saw literally no one giving gifts, save this lower sec Indian boy giving out cookie-looking stuff to teachers :x

I decided there and then I would just keep the chocolates my mother bought last night instead of giving them out to teachers since literally no one else was giving gifts! So surreal. At MGS around that time, the whole staff room and the outside would be literally flooded with students and there'd be hardly any place to move. The staff room would also be elaborately decorated according to some theme which would be the same as the president's challenge (last year was a mix, Ianthe was supposed to be futuristic and mine was retro). In comparison teacher's day is so much more dull here, though I must admit having half-naked, gold-painted boys act as Oscars was quite the raunchy touch.

Anyway Nic, Chun Wui and I had to leave the celebrations early to supposedly set up everything for the Teachers' Day lunch because we were supposed to DJ. The sound system there was )*$@&$^! and when I first used the mic to dedicate a song, the feedback was horrible and I had to go really far away just to speak and even then it went BOOMBOOMBOOM. Argh damn loud.

For most of the part I had a great time there, managed to play the songs Daryl asked me to play for the Sirs, and played I've Got a Lovely Bunch of Coconuts for Sir Reverse Weeaboo (and he enjoyed it immensely! [The insufferable ham, can't understand why people don't like him, he amuses me to no end.]) and Rasputin for WTY. After most of the teachers left, Nic and I had a go at the spread, and there were lots of leftovers. Then we headed home and my daily migraine started again.

I feel really sick and achy today.

School killz.

Blah I hate being sickly.

Maybe I'll die young from one sickness or another.

Ohohoho.

Oh my Philippe Brenninkmeyer from House of Harmony looks like the sexy Irishman.

I am amused.

Oh my. There are so many films out now that I really want to see!

It's irritating how there's hardly anything online about them at all. Grrr. IMDB fails when it comes to such films, but there has to be some entry about Glitter, the Mariah Carey overblown sappy music video masquerading as a movie. Pshaw. It's probably as bad as the upcoming Bratz the movie, how bad can a name get? It's like people overusing the derogatory word 'Bitch' till it loses it's original scathing meaning.

Okay I totally digress.

Anyway yes! First of, tonight Arts Central is showing House of Harmony! SHIT. So er, do work or watch movie. Damnit. Then next the lineup for the Sept holidays is most impressive, but why why why do the board of censors have to make Jesus Camp M18? Similarly, The Home Song Stories is M18 as well. Goodness, there's worse stuff available on the internet and you want to ban me from such a film?! Idiots. I've probably seem more sexually deviant stuff, thanks to trawling the dark deep pit that is the internet, than 90% of the world's population (or am I giving too nice an estimate?) and I can't watch a film? Grwargh. Nevermind, one way or another I am going to watch it HAH (er, provided I have enough free time from studying).

There's also Ghosts, which was a nightmare to google up thanks to the 1990 movie with Demi Moore of the same name about the Morecambe Bay incident in England and lastly The Willow Tree which is showing at The Picturehouse. So many movies, so little time ):

And beginning of the year, when I wanted to watch a movie, it was nothing but crap at the cinemas. The only good thing I remember watching was Sun Yat Fai Lok, which I watched as a dvd at home (well okay there was Harry Potter but that is so not a film and La Vie En Rose which I also missed because I was busy >.< Okay enough gushing about films!

Today after bringing Lauren to Bugis to shop, en route to City Hall, we stopped at Bras Bersah and I went off to dig through the bookstores, and boy was it frustrating trying to look for anything Japan-WWII related. There was literally nothing on the subject, save for the lone Rape of Nanking I saw, which I already had anyway. Believe me: I tried my best to search for anything for my EE. There are a ton and a half stuff about Nazi Germany, Communist Russia, Communist China, a little about Italy and everything else was literally zilch. Frustrating >.< Oh man House of Harmony is starting soon. Er. Okay hope Econs commentary is not due tomorrow.

Tree-Nation, an interesting concept I must say.

In the meanwhile:
1) Bad headache is bad
2) Marxist view on the cause of WWII is like... ARGH. How can I debate tomorrow if I don't believe what I'm going to say?!
3) God's toilet bowl showed up during noon today, and He finally flushed it this evening as it poured like hell (hurr pun). I took a picture of it on my phone, but I have no idea how the get it out. I think I also killed my eyes looking at it, because for a while after my left eye had a bleached world and the right one a rose coloured world.

I love my daddy muchly (:

OH SHIT I LOST MY HTML CODE :x

Later: Please don't ask. I'm working on it!

Today has been quite a good day, a much needed change from the past few days when my moods have been erratic and bounced all over the place and bleed out affected the people around me :/ While it's too early to say if this episode is well and truly over, I'd like to think that today has been a much needed break at least.

After school I took a train from Dover to Raffles Place to meet Lauren at Mallal & Namazie. On the train there, an old woman boarded at Commonwealth Station, only to find the entire carriage full. She ended up standing next me as the train started and I was kind of annoyed no one gave up their seat for her. However this has a happy ending as by the next stop, a young woman looked up and saw her and gave up her seat.

After getting off at Raffles Place, I walked the same route I had used hundreds of times before (okay well maybe 100+) when I was working there earlier this year, just surveying how fast the place had changed. New tenants had occupied old spaces, dusty areas under construction were turned into shiny new gourmet coffee shops and half of lau pa sat was being renovated.

At the traffic junction, as I waited for the lights to change, the most annoying woman stood within earshot. Across the road there were tv cameras and some news anchor of sorts interviewing people. This woman/kid was with two Caucasians, a male and a female. Now please picture the whiniest, most high pitched voice ever, then add a fake accent to it.

Woman: "OH MY GOD LOOK THERE! THERE'S TV!"
Man: "Oh yeah."
Woman: "I WONDER WHAT THEY'RE DOING HERE!!!"
Woman: "OH MY GOD THAT'S MY COLLEAGUE!!! HOW COME SHE'S BEING INTERVIEWED?"
and the like.

Wtf. My faced was literally -________- as I did my best to not get annoyed at her. ARGH BIMBO, worse, she had such a jarring voice. When I finally caught sight of her, she was wearing an off shoulder white top and had a mini denim skirt on. What kind of idiot wears that to work?! The two Caucasians were wearing business suits.

Afterwards, Lauren and I took a bus to Chinatown and spent the rest of the time wandering about, shopping and around 5:30 we boarded 961 to go home.

For dinner my grandma prepared a really nice steak dinner because she knew I was coming. I felt quite touched when I found out, because she knows I love my beef :D and those steaks would have cost a pretty penny. I was also talking to Lauren and she was telling me how the family (meaning my extended one from the grandmother) was already planning for my education, meaning they were making provisions to put me through college, overseas. They all knew that a mother like mine wouldn't do dick shit for my education (and beginning of this year she told me she had no money to send me to university despite the massive amounts of money she spends on clothes every month!). My father has been saving too, by himself apparently, something he told me a few weeks ago. He says he has enough to put me through university in Singapore at least.

At the end of the day it isn't so much about the money, but the fact that all my relatives love me and care for me enough to be willing to sacrifice money to allow me to pursue my dreams, and goodness knows education overseas isn't cheap. All this just brings out the glaring point about how selfish my mother is, she's my parent but she doesn't care enough to sacrifice the monetary funds for my education.

I always lament about how dysfunctional, yet lovable my family is, but this really proves at the end of the day that they will always look out for me and love me, no matter what, even if those who are supposed to, don't.

She has come out.

Don't trust me anymore.

A loster lobster went for a walk one day.

Outside life went about passingly but loster lobster just got more lost, and the more loster lobster walked the deeper it fell into lostness and then it suddenly found it couldn't get out anymore. Then a sea faerie appeared and promised to save loster lobster.

"Dear loster lobster, you have lived your life being lost and never found. Your only way out of this is to either lose your shell or to lose your heart, only then you will be found."

Loster lobster thought long and hard, either way it was screwed, for it could not live without the other. It could try going deeper into lostness, but it might make things even worse.

For the hundredth time in it's short short life, loster lobster was lost once again.

Oh and on another note...

ARGH.

Just finished reading Miss Julie. It's like a more violent and sexual version of Hedda Gabler. Coupled with the other world lit text of Medea, one cannot help but wonder if the male dominated school is trying to send us a subtle message, like WOMEN CHOP OFF MALE BALLS AND THEN COME TO NASTY ENDS, or something equally pleasant. I sort of felt the same way for Twelfth Night which included a cross dressing heroine, as if the underlying message was HAY DRESS LYK MAN. WE R GRT :D

Somehow looking at History too makes me think the school is trying to send out a message by teaching Warfare as a subject (though it could be argued that anything military based is ultimately attractive to boys, who consist of 90% of full/HL History candidates in school I think, therefore easier to teach), like they're trying to psyche up the guys to be excited! for National Service or something.

I know it might be paranoia or something, but when it comes to this school, I always feel like there are so many layers to everything, that the school is trying to psycho us to have a certain type of thinking or something (minus the obvious devotions and sermons), like one has to be constantly be on guard or be sucked along by the subliminal messages.

On another brighter note, Jia Hui sent me the soundtrack to Jeux d'enfants (:

Like a third rate literature hack

The weather is a metaphor for how I feel inside.

Faith keep me strong
Love lead me on

Empty is this vessel
the water has fallen out
cascading slowly and melancholy

Ever since I donated money to Worldvision last year, as a Christmas donation in lieu of others, they've been sending me appeals for donations every now and then. Every time I see it, it invariably creates a huge feeling of guilt in me.

Here I sit, in my room with my fan blowing, Inara singing and typing away on my laptop. What have I done to deserve all of this? While this form of questioning is certainly not new to me (indeed playing Real Lives and the huge number of times I was 'born' in Africa and inflicted with a number of diseases even before I entered school, that is IF I even entered school, brought up the issue in my mind) never is it so acute as when one of those mass mail letters come by. Was I sent here for a purpose, or was it merely luck that I ended up being born to the set of parents that I have now, in such conditions?

Anyway as you can guess this post was inspired when I came back and yet another letter was waiting in the letter basket, which of course I opened. This leads me to another thought, why do I give money to them? Is it because I truly want to help, or is it because I feel guilty that I was accorded such opportunities while their lives might even end before it truly began, or even worse, is it because I want to use it to show to other people how altruistic I am? (as one article argued recently). I don't I can even quite begin to answer that, or even truly want to know the answer as it might ruin my idea of myself as a person and so the question lies there, hanging ominously and unanswered.

Why do we do the things we do? (And perhaps I have found my idea for my TOK presentation!)

I love Friendster, it has a virus now.

I LAWL.

Saviors of the Soul indeed.

Yet another week without the presence of the sexy Irishman who has gone back to the land of leprechauns and shamrocks, complaining that it is cold upon yonder, during summer nonetheless. Thanks to his absence, this week has been relatively slack, thank goodness.

Today I did my IOP. I was still coughing though, I hoped to have recovered in time for it, but I guess I can't control such thing. Irritating to be coughing for so long though, it has it's own little weird effect on my already weak digestive system :x IOP went pretty well I guess, slightly over 15 minutes compared to the 20 minutes I clocked yesterday when I practiced. The Englishman was scowling throughout it, and argh, I really have no idea what's stuffed up his ass. He seemed like he want to jump and and challenge every point that I made. Hope he graded me fairly though, he seemed to take offense when I praised Roy over Rushdie.

I do believe that we are thisclose to yet another financial crisis.

Everybody panic! The US Economy is held at China's ransom.

NOOOO THIS IS THE CLOSEST I'VE EVER COME TO FINISHING BEFORE!!! (well out of the maybe 5 times I've played it)

Yep, time for yet another weird conspiracy website, ala occult symbols popping up in famous trademarks and logos :O :O :O

And to get you guys interested, here's a totally Japanese-inexplicable picture. Dinosaurs humping handphone users.


And if you wondering, I was looking for images for my IOP (internal oral presentation).

I'm 100% sure having a acid reflux doesn't include a screwed up nose and lots of phlegm-ey coughs, so it appears that in my weakened state I have been inflicted with yet another sickness, the flu I believe. THE JOY THE JOY.

Anyway yesterday I got to play Livin La Vida Loca at the track meet. Stupid Patrick then changed iPods because he said my music sucked. HELLO, it was meant to suck. Like Nic playing A*Teens and Tay Zonday. I wanted to play Video Killed the Radio Star, but no one had the Buggles on their iPods, how sad.

So anyway today I elected to stay home after a drippy nose last night in addition to other weakening things. I don't think I missed much but I have a feeling the higher ups will be on my case for 'pon'ing the wonderful, spendiferous ONEACS :D:D:D:D:D:D whatever. Sounds like it was a waste of time.

And in a massive stroke of irony, I am sick during the holidays. How much does that suck? Not that I had much planned anyway, but spending free time (Oh how I have missed your acquaintance since I started school!) sleeping is totally not my idea of fun.

Erk. Hope I get better soon :x