Classic Attempts

After 13 Driving Lessons

2011-07-10T22:59:00.003+08:00

This afternoon, my mother told me to go buy some food by myself 'cause she wanted to see if I could really get the food back home. That's what she said anyway, but I'm pretty sure she meant she wanted to see if I could make my way back alive without getting the car totaled. *shrugs*

Please take note that I hadn't been driving for a month, and that was the first time I would drive without a driving instructur. Apparently ma wanted to see with her own eyes the food I bought home first before she would consider letting me drive to school. Obviously I was kinda psyched about it. I mean, common, which 18-year-old wouldn't wanna drive alone? It was like a chance to show off or prove one's worth or something VERY good for the ego. And it was a chance for me to prove that the rumours about me being very bad at driving were exaggerated. A little.

It felt so good to be climbing on the huge monstrosity and to settle back on the driver's seat, adjusting everything like a pro. Then, things started going wrong. You see, pa had parked the car in a very err interesting way to get back at my neighbour (long story). Well, obviously I wasn't as pro as my father and the stupid car got stuck. Everywhere I turn, the wheels refused to budge somehow. *seethes* So there I was, my ego taking a sharp dive, stuck in front of my house, without even moving an inch.

I was stuck there so long, ma finally noticed that something was amiss. So, she got downstairs and out of the house and helped me reverse the idiot into position, shaking her head and rolling her eyes all the while. So I cheered up a little and settled back into the seat again, and sent ma back into the house.

And then, the car stubbornly refused to move forward. I restarted the car, reversed the car a little again and did everything even remotely likely to try to bring the car forward. And the car still rebeled against me! So there I was, stuck in front of my house, again. And ma came out ranting bout how I couldn't even drive, and noticed at once that I've went into the wrong gear. Sigh.

Things were smooth afterwards. In fact, things were so smooth I was impressed by myself. *proud* I parked in front of my uncle's house, safe and unharmed, beaming like a smug torchlight. My parking was very slanted, but I THINK my parents park it this way too. *wishful thinking* Grandma was very proud of me though. :D

So I bought grandma and myself food. Btw, do you know that if I'm alone, the aunty charges RM4 per person, if I'm with my mother, the aunty charges RM3 per person, and just now, when I was there with my grandma, I was only charged RM2 for each of us? Just saying. *shrugs*

It was time for my grand finale, so I climbed up the car with my grandma looking at me with adoring eyes, and I couldn't turn the stupid key! There I was, turning and pressing with all I might, in vain. I held on to my ego and refused to ask for help, but finally my aunt came out, and all she did was shake the steering wheel for a few times and voila! The engine purred into life. My cheeks didn't fail me and refused to burn, and I graciously thanked my aunt and drove away, and all was well again. I didn't even get honked! (Yes it's a very important fact.)

When I returned home, my parking was, oh well, horrible again, so I thought that I could perhaps adjust the car a little so I wouldn't look so much like a loser. But, I couldn't release the handbrake at all! No matter how hard I pulled, it defiantly ignored me, so I just gave up and jumped off the car, feeling very accomplished.

Things were different at night though. My father wanted to see me drive, so I thought that I'd made enough stupid mistakes this afternoon to not repeat them tonight. Oh boy was I wrong. Well, to be fair, I didn't repeat the aforesaid stupid mistakes, but I sure felt stupid.

I've always heard tales of how fathers are very nervous when their daughters drive, and my father vowed never to teach me drive because he was sure it would trigger his heart attack. I can totally relate to those daughters now, and I'm pretty sure my father would love to talk to their fathers about how much I suck too.

Well, for starters, I went slowly because I knew that my father would freak if I drove fast, but he pointed out that if I went any slower, the car would come to a complete stop and some poor guy would crash into us. So I speeded up, and he told me to slow down again. And then, he kept pointing out that I was about to crash into something, how I was in the wrong lane. And when it came to praking, oh boy, he swore that cold sweat was running down his back, making me sound like a monster or something.

In general, everything I did wasn't right, and he kept yelling in my ears, and when he yelled, I'd freak and stop whatever I was doing, which made him yell even more. He was so jumpy he made me jumpy, and I got so nervous I became a mechanical robot or something, only doing things when he told me to, so yea, I must've looked like a fool. He openly wondered if I've learnt anything at all from my driving instructor, but common! I passed the test didn't I? *pouts* When we reached home, he said shakily, 'Oh my heart attack,' which didn't make me feel bad at all. :)

I have a feeling that I would be kept away from the car for some time until he recovers from this nightmare.

Get a Life

2011-05-31T22:04:00.000+08:00

    A new Facebook page “I Hate Selena Gomez Cuz She is Dating My Man,” cropped up over the weekend, and has been inudated by nasty comments following the release of pictures from GoBiebs’ romantic getaway. Popular messages like, “I’m gonna kill ya in the night underneath your smell bed,” have quickly achieved “Most Liked” status among followers. Others opted for friendly advice over death threats. “Dear Selena Gomez. I hate you more than life. Go jump off a cliff. K? Bye,” Tweeted a Bieber fanatic. Another ominous Biebhead warned: “Selena Gomez is dangerously close to a long, slow painful death.” Others label 18-year-old Selena a “pedophile” for dating a boy a year younger than her. (via PopCrunch)

    So let me get this straight, you've created a hate site for a girl you've never met before because she is dating a guy you've never met before either? By this definition, can it be concluded that you want to kill a stranger because she is dating another stranger?

    You know, looking at this, I can really understand why the guy chooses her over you. I mean, one is a beautiful and accomplished public figure, the other is a psycho in need of medication. Not much competition is there? Of course, there is an added disadvantage of the guy never knowing the psycho before, except perhaps through his girlfriend's hate site where the psycho is bashing up his beloved girlfriend. Must've left quite an impression.

    I don't get it. You get all murderous on a girl because she is dating your dream guy, yet you call out to all the other freaks who want to eat up the guy too. Shouldn't you be eliminating the competition instead of cozying up to the enemy? In fact, it's more appropriate to start with killing them since they don't have guards and stuff around them.

    You should get over your pathetic self and wake up from your self delusion. Frankly speaking, I think you've lost your chance on any guy at all since you've openly publicized your violent side. Violence isn't really girlfriend material, is it?

Desperately Staying Awake

2011-05-29T00:28:00.001+08:00

    Most people would turn in for an early night if they were traveling somewhere the following day. Well, my family is going to Melaka tomorrow. That explains why my house is now peacefully silent except for the songs I'm playing on my phone.

    But for me, it's the opposite. I try to stay up as late as possible, simply because I want to sleep through the horrendous journey, made so by the fact that I get severe motion sickness every time I get on something that moves. So if I went to sleep, I'd feel suicidal by the pain in my head and contemplate jumping off the car the next day.

    I know there are people out there saying things like, 'There's no such thing as motion sickness. They are just making it up for sympathy,' that make me itch to slap them, especially when I am attacked by a raging headache brought on by motion sickness. I suppose they have never experienced motion sickness before and have no idea how ugly it can become.

    I've been accused of wasting time and opportunity because whenever I go on a vacation, I'd sleep like a baby as soon as I get on the bus, the rocking motion of the vehicle a loving cradle to me. They say that I should open my eyes and enjoy the view outside. Well, firstly, I have never been a nature person, so I don't think I'm missing out much. Secondly, it's near impossible to enjoy anything when your head is killing you. Thirdly, it's quite comfortable to sleep on a bus actually, so why waste the chance?

    I'm pretty sure I got it from my parents, who both complain of motion sickness too. Honestly though, this err problem is very inconvenient. I mean, I can't even enjoy myself on swings! Although I stubbornly get on them anyway. *shrugs* And even when your eyes are closing against your will and your brain feels as though it's not functioning, you have to try to keep yourself awake anyway, trying to distract yourself from your sleepiness by doing random things like blogging. Like what I'm doing now. Call me a planner. :)

Making Up My Mind

2011-05-23T21:23:00.002+08:00

    People always ask me why I am interested in law. Honestly, I don't know. I just feel like studying it. It's simply unexplainable.

    I've always thought of working along the lines of matrimony law, you know preparing prenuptial in case the couple with their pocketfuls of money decide to break up and hog up the other's money, or being in charge of divorce papers. I mean, that's easy money. Seriously, I hear those lawyers earn tons. Although I don't think Malaysia is catching up with the prenup and divorce trend yet, but we'll get there soon. *knocks wood at the same time though*

    Also, I've always imagined myself just dealing with easy paperwork. Like just working behind a desk and typing. That's one of the very few things I'm good at anyway. Words are something that I can understand and am adequate to deal with.

    Tonight, I decided to be a good student for once and researched on children's rights for MUET presentation. That was when I found out that I am really interested in children's rights. Maybe it has something to do with having three kids for siblings, but I really want to do something for children's rights. Some people accused me of not being actually interested in law since I've never bought any law novels whatsoever, but I've always looked out for books (fictions actually) talking about children's rights. Does this prove that I am interested in children's rights after all?

    My past whims are just ways to slack and earn money at the same time. I'm not actually interested in matrimony law or property law or whatever I've considered before this. I mean, they seem to be so unrelated to me. How can I be interested in something I never bother looking into?

    But are children's rights something Malaysia actually pays attention to? I mean, I've always known that one cannot survive by interest alone. Besides, if I really want to defend children's rights, I might have to go to courts and stuff. And I've insisted time and again that I do not want to be a court lawyer due to my abysmal BM. Even if we were allowed to use English in court, if my opponent was using BM, I'd die because I would have a hard time trying to understand what he was saying in his professional sounding BM and wouldn't come up with anything to rebut his point as I had spent too much brain power understanding his words.

    Meanwhile, although I love reading up on children's rights, I'm getting tired of copying the entire Wikipedia page down. I suppose I have to stop being so lazy if I really wanna pursue children's rights too.

Fire

2011-05-22T22:14:00.004+08:00

Got the plot from Zachary's essay for last year's trials. Was so bored I wrote it in a different way. Sorry Zach. :(

     She came into my life, a perfect symbol of fire, in a dazzling red dress swirling in clouds around her, burning my vision with her beauty, warming me up with her straightforward advances. Yes, she was the fire to my dull life.

   Her presence made me forget that I had a wife and two kids at home. The smoke from her fire had clouded my common sense. I already had a perfect job and a perfect life. She would definitely brighten things up further for me. I could only see the present, lighted up by her charming flame. The future was clouded by all the heat. The lack of clarity of the future seemed so exciting, so unexpected from my predictable life.

   Who would pass up on a chance like this? It all seemed so natural, so inevitable. A red-hot affair was in session. We would meet up every month or so in a secluded hotel, me getting comforted by her never ending supply of warmth. She was so sweet, so loving, and she never asked anything from me. I felt alive, living two lives at the same time: one as a responsible employee, husband and father, another as a carefree lover, feeling no guilt for cheating on his wife.

   I didn't know when, but one day, the fire just got too much for me. She got too much for me. Waves of conscience crashed over me and I started to miss a normal life. I missed being wholeheartedly there for my family. I wanted to feel like the clear-headed man I knew I was deep down inside, the man I was before I let fire burn him up. I wondered if it was too late to change back. So, I asked for a peaceful parting.

   Except fire couldn't be peaceful, could it? She threw a fit, destroying everything in the room with her red hot rage. I quietly observed the fire getting out of hand and left before I could get burn.

   Everything went back to the way it was. I threw myself into my work and family affairs. I gathered joy from the peace. I had enough of fire so I was reveling in the ever flowing, never changing stream of life.

   That is, until the day I got the call. The strangely calm voice of fire burned my ear. Who knew heat could travel through the phone? How could I expect to play with fire and leave unscratched?

     When I unlocked the door with trembling fingers, I already knew what to expect, but the scene still hit me senseless. I could see my wife and kids knocked out on the floor, bound tightly. She was standing over them, a lighter in her hand. The smell of kerosene in the air warned me that if she wanted to, she could really burn up everything in my life. How appropriate, I jeered at myself. I've always thought of her as fire, and now she's acting true to her nature.

   I didn't know what to do. I was struck dumb. One could never reason with fire, and I couldn't find my tongue anyway. Apparently she had no problem finding hers. The menacing glint in her eyes coupled with her threats were more than enough to get cold fear to grip my heart in a merciless grasp.

   Her hard words burned through the fog in my brain. Her fire was contagious. It burned through the icy cold terror. I grabbed the letter opener off the table beside me and, without having a clear idea why, I ran towards her and pushed the blade into her chest. The lighter dropped from her shock at my reaction and she collapsed onto the ground soon after.

   Ah, warmth. I looked at the red blood, still warm from her body, splattered on my hand. It seemed like a reminiscence of the heat brought on by the woman who was so alive with the fire burning inside her. Staring at the dripping red liquid, I knew I didn’t kill her, but I hoped that the fire would exist no more.

Burnt BMW a.k.a. My Mother's Old Car

2011-04-24T18:12:00.001+08:00

I Hate Driving

2011-04-20T21:07:00.003+08:00

    When I imagined myself driving, I've always thought of it as a concept, as something abstract, not in the sense of actually operating a four wheeled machine with the potential to kill. As a result, I'm confused and kinda freaked.

    My teacher admitted that she was scared out of her wits by my driving. *grimaces* Poor thing. The car bounced along with my every unconscious whim, and her head bounced on and off the headrest in rhythm. Every few minutes, she had to reach over to control the steering wheel to keep me from totaling the car and killing both of us. More than once, she had to yell in my ear to remind me what to do when I panicked. Though she was very nice at the end of the lesson and told me that the reason she yelled wasn't because she was mad but was caused by the fact that she had to keep my pathetic brain on focus. Sigh.

    The innocent car was tortured by my artless skills. More than once the engine died in the middle of the road as I mixed up all the annoying mechanics. I think I basically did every possible thing to hurt the car. The car would be very lucky to survive my learning. But hey! Isn't it supposed to be heavy duty? I mean, it's a car meant for ignorant drivers like me! *defensive*

    Maybe I'm not meant for driving after all. I can't remember all the troublesome steps to operate the car. I get jumpy after the car exceeded 20 or 30 km/j and I actually loved it when other cars cut the line because when they wandered off my sight they were not my responsibility anymore. My teacher kept telling me to relax my killer grip on the steering wheel. My eyes kept wandering off without my actual knowing to check if everything's in order. They expect us to multitask! I mean, I can barely control the stupid car, why do I have to take care of other stupid cars and the stupid people and the stupid animals and the stupid lines and the stupid rocks and stones by the stupid roads at the same time too? Gosh can't they sympathize with people who are stupid at driving like me?

    If someone gave me a car to drive right now, I would probably abandon it by the road and opt to walk on foot. Auto gear'd better be easier to operate 'cause that's my only hope now.

SPM Results

2011-03-24T11:02:00.001+08:00

    I'm posting my results here because if someone asks me to analyze my results again, I'm either going to throw up or throw something at him/her. Don't congratulate me with your lies. I know what I did.

    BM               B+
    English           A+
    Moral            A-
    Sejarah          A-
    Maths            A+
    Add Maths    A+
    Physics          B+
    Chemistry      A
    Biology         A
    BC               A-
    GCE            1A

    Happy now?

First Time

2011-03-23T00:55:00.000+08:00

    For UPSR, I was away on my primary school's graduation trip to Sarawak. So, my mother was the one who went to school and helped me get my results.

    For PMR, I was away on a family trip to Sabah. So, my bestie was the one who helped me ask after my results. I only got the slip in Form 4.

    For SPM, I'll have to face the lions myself. Fyi, SPM is the one of which I am the least confident in. I don't think I can handle the truth. The anticipation of getting the slip with my own hands ... It's something that accounts for the huge pressure suffocating my heart.

    I don't think I'm going to get any sleep tonight. Thank God I have Glee to stay up with me.

Freaking Out

2011-03-22T22:09:00.002+08:00

    When I left NS, I thought that since I've survived without tv series for 3 months, maybe I should just quit my obsession, with the added advantage of saving my connection. And I actually managed to do exactly that till just now.

    I've been freaking out over SPM. Everyone has been. I've had several nightmares about SPM and here's the conclusion: I'll be failing BM, BC and Physics and get C for BI while my bestie gets straight A+'s. Lovely.

    Anyway, I thought that maybe I should just watch Glee again, since I found out that I miss it horribly when I watched videos of it on Youtube. So, I actually downloaded 6 episodes of Glee, thus sacrificing my connection and in the risk of having no connection at all for the rest of this month, in hopes that I'll forget about SPM tonight.

    Guess what? It doesn't work. I'm still freaking nervous and I'm starting to get nauseous. That's my price for fooling around for the last two years I suppose. Oh btw, I'll be switching off my phone tomorrow so don't bother trying to reach me. I'm not going to humiliate myself publicizing my embarrassing results thank you very much. Sorry Grandma but my promise of telling you my results as soon as I get it? I'll be breaking it. You have other grandchildren to make you proud. :(

En's 8th Birthday

2011-03-20T23:04:00.001+08:00

The server rejected some of the pictures, I have no idea why.

Cameron Highlands

2011-03-20T22:51:00.000+08:00

How NS Spoiled Me

2011-03-17T13:37:00.004+08:00

    Before I left for NS, I was 43kg.

    Now, I'm 44kg.

    I remember how I consoled myself when I found out I was chosen for NS, 'Never mind, at least now I can lose some weight,' I mean, everyone loses weight in NS! Who on earth would've thought that I would be the exception?

    NS has spoiled my stomach. In camp, we' were given 6 meals a day, with more than enough for everyone. I always got second or third helpings for snacks. Early morning, I drank cereal with Milo, which was not counted as my breakfast btw. Which would explain why I've gained weight I suppose. *bangs head against wall*

    Now that I'm home, I'm constantly searching for food. I've finished up practically everything edible at home in a matter of days. For meals, I am just not satisfied with the one or two dish set out before me, since we always got at least 3 selections in camp. More than anything, I'm missing veggies. Me! Who have always had a reputation of eating like a bird! And a carnivore bird who refuses to touch anything green at that! (the carnivore bird sounds kinda disturbing actually)

    The problem is, in camp, we were constantly walking or marching *rolls eyes* from one place to another. Plus I tried to jog every afternoon, so I was able to keep my weight in control. But now all I do is sit around, and my activities are confined to my room. How on earth am I supposed to keep from getting a Humpty Dumpty figure like this?

    There's just not much opportunity for sports here. I mean, there is, I suppose, but it's just so troublesome. And I can't just jog around the neighbourhood by myself. People will think there's something wrong with me, and my parents won't allow it anyway. If I need to go anywhere, I'll have to trouble my parents, with lots of beggings and such. And everyone seems to be too busy to accompany me. :(

    I suppose now all I can do is get used to my life before NS again.

First (And Probably Last) Visit to a 5 Star Hotel

2011-03-15T21:33:00.002+08:00

Luxury!

Tomorrow, I Will ...

2011-03-14T22:38:00.004+08:00

1.     Tidy up my room.

2.     Sweep and mop the floor.

3.     Clean the bathroom.

4.     Find a place for everything in my wardrobe and drawers.

5.     Dump out the junk in my room.

6.     Stop obsessively eating honey roasted cuttlefish.

7.     Stop obsessively nicking the kids' vitamin c's.

8.     Stop looking for food.

9.     Stop staring meaninglessly at my laptop.

10.     Stop stalking people on Facebook.

11.     Get some nice music to play on the piano.

12.     Look for my lost music files.

13.     Beg someone to jog with me.

14.     Hand wash those troublesome clothes.

15.    Read the numerous unread books on my shelf.

16.    Watch some long downloaded movies in my laptop.

17.     Find something - anything! - meaningful to do.

Rotting

2011-03-14T15:55:00.002+08:00

    I can't find my music scores. I don't feel like reading. There's nothing to do on the internet ever since I set my new rule of not wasting my connection on movies. I don't feel like watching movies anyway. There's nothing nice to eat in the house.

    My room's a mess but I just can't summon up the energy to clean it up or even tidy it up. My clothes from chinese new year is still in the trunk, jumbled up from my constant rummaging. Same goes to my NS clothes. The clothes I washed last night must be dry now but I don't feel like walking out to retrieve them. I have clothes that need hand washing too.

    I'm supposed to call up my driving teacher but I don't like those formal uppity stuff so I'm going to leave that till later. I don't know whether I should continue my music classes. I slept through my music teacher's phone call this morning so I missed the chance of discussing that with him.

    Is this the way my next two months is going to be?

Back Home

2011-03-13T18:03:00.001+08:00

    I didn't cry when I was forced to leave home and go to camp.

    I didn't cry when I was forced to leave camp and go back home.

    Everyone was shedding gallons of tears around me and all I did was hug them all and smile.

    Am I sad to leave camp? Of course I am! You can't just stay somewhere for more than two months and not feel sad to leave it! But I just couldn't squeeze out the tears. Am I cold-blooded? I don't think so, since I seriously loved camp and was devastated to leave it. But the tears just wouldn't come.

    I can cry when I read. I can cry when I watch movies. I can cry during Flying Fox. But I just couldn't cry while I was leaving. Don't ask me why. I want to know the answer too.

    I miss camp so much. Leaving camp was like a cruel kick from behind, from paradise to cold hard reality. The life's just so ... different. While I would've been fooling around with my friends, I'm now alone in front of the computer with nothing to do.

    School's reopening in May. Now that there's no camp, I suppose I'll just rot till then.

    Personally I think they should keep us there until 23rd of March. In camp you just don't worry about SPM. There's just too many things to occupy your mind. But now, I have a whole nightmarish week before Judgement Day.

    Seriously, NS was a gift. We didn't suffer like the rumours said we would. The worst thing we had to endure was the hot sun. And honestly, it was not like we were burning in hell or anything. And there was never a bored moment. You have people around you all the time to entertain you.

    I genuinely believe that going to NS was the best thing that could've happened to me. Now that I'm back home, I kinda feel like going back there again. It's just so depressing to think that I will never get to set foot in the camp, ever again.

Leo-Virgo Cusp

2010-09-25T01:16:00.000+08:00

If your birthday falls near the beginning or end of a Sun Sign (see dates below) you were born on the cusp. Essentially you have the characteristics of two Sun Signs combined.
Leo-Virgo Cusp - August 19 to August 24

Individuals born on the Leo-Virgo cusp are health conscious and very concerned with nutrition and hygiene. This helps them take good care of themselves, both mentally and physically. They like to play in groups. This may take the form of team sports or games. Like everything else, they strive to achieve perfection in their leisure activities.

They can be jealous at times, but they are not really very flirtatious. They are creative and pay close attention to details. They show their love by doing things for their loved one. They are thoughtful and unique.

This cusp is conflicted by Leo's drama and Virgo's lack of sociability. If they can pull themselves together for a cause they truly believe in, the strengths of both signs come together. They have to believe in what they are doing to let their passion show.

Leo-Virgo is honest, unique, logical, creative, flamboyant, artistic, routine, practical, organized, ambitious, inspiring and dramatic. They like to have fun and are generally optimistic. They may also be stubborn, blunt, quarrelsome, cold, stuck on their own ego and a perfectionist. The Cusp of Exposure can be fun or harsh.

Leo-Virgo is a hard worker and a logical thinker. They are earthy and appreciate what we get from the ground. They are very persuasive, which makes them good lawyers, physicians, and teachers. They are tactful, and don't often offend others. They appreciate the outdoors.

Individuals born on the Leo-Virgo cusp may be very popular, with a crowd of followers all of their own. To create a good balance, they need to fulfill their own needs without losing any of their abilities to give to others. They are strong and tenacious. They may be artistically or musically inclined, and they may enjoy traveling.

Credits to ZodiacFacts.

I Need Superglue

2010-08-29T21:08:00.000+08:00

But since I don't have any and my grandma is coming in hours, I have to make do with these:

Workshop *cough*

Yes, simple and surprisingly effective (for such a simple setup).


Close-up of my brilliant idea.

So now it looks like this:


The front.

Not bad right? You could hardly see the flaw! (if you squint hard enough)


Place of honour.

Despite the fact that the stapled-on parts seem to be dangling off, it looks nice still!


The view.

And it's so high up, who knows what's dangling off and what's not?


Aww my violin!

Adding the last photo just for the sake of it.

P.S. There's something wrong with my camera so don't mind the dates.

I Am Not A Psycho Bitch

2010-08-28T18:20:00.001+08:00

    Last night was a total one-off. Yes, I went all psycho and probably broke down, but hey, I was emotionally unstable! Thus my words should not be accounted for!

    Every time I am tired, I go through a phase. First I'll whine non-stop about how tired I am, then I'll go all whacko and do really stupid stuff that scares me sometimes, next I'll go all emotionally unstable (as mentioned above) and finally, I'll retire with a headache. FML

    Anyway, I guess I reached my breaking point last night (during my emotionally-unstable phase) and said a lot of stuff that normally doesn't bother me much. But somehow, at the spur of the moment or whatever, they bothered me a lot. Now, after a good night's sleep, I am horrified by my behavior.

    Words have probably gone around concerning my erm breakdown. Now I'm probably labeled as a psycho bitch and no one will probably come near me in case I breakdown again FML.

    I am not a psycho bitch k?

    I hereby solemnly swear that I'll go to bed as soon as I feel tired and my friends (those who I haven't scared off anyway) should make me do exactly that, as soon as I start my whining phase. The whacko phase isn't that attractive either.

What To Expect On A Preschool's Sports Day

2010-08-28T17:46:00.004+08:00

1. Horrible Venue

    Despite the fact that the first thing that catches your attention when you near MPS Stadium is the proud sign declaring this area as 'Zon Bersih', the stadium is anything but 'bersih'. The walls have been vandalized and there are junk all over the place, for example an old wardrobe door with the glass splintering all over the place. In fact, it is downright dangerous. What if an athletic cut himself on the said glass? His dream can be ruined, in just a moment, all because of the un-'bersih'-ness of the place. And the toilet! It stinks! The toilet stalls have probably been left for a long time without anyone bothering to clean them. There are toilet paper and goodness knows what all over the place. Most of the mirrors are missing, and you know how important mirrors are to females. And when you wash your hands, your legs involuntarily get washed too, by water that have probably passed through rusted pipes and stained ceramics. The floor is black and wet. If you were as unlucky as to fall on your face, you'll probably be disfigured by the dirt and germs and chemicals on it.

2. Over-Enthusiastic Principal

    (My mother has forbidden me to use any stronger words to describe the principal. sulks) My brothers have a really ... active principal . She jumped all over the place, screamed so loudly into the microphone my sister jumped out of her skin, and made jokes no one cared about. She tried to interact with the audience I suppose, but she just appeared foolish (my mother won't be reading my blog so what the heck) and really, really noisy. She dragged her family into all events and made private inner jokes and started giggling in a really annoying way, doubly so because we simply had no idea what she was talking about. She started the event by making a joke about her baby that none of us got. Yes, she brought her baby along on a really hot day in a field wide open to the onslaught of the sun. Poor baby. She made her teenage kids helped out too, and her husband was her - cough - fellow emcee. He danced along with the kids and made private jokes and laughed along with his wife. I suppose birds of the same flock stick together. And the sight of a middle-aged man wriggling his body along with four-year-olds is not something one would appreciate looking at. Altogether it was a happy family moment for them, and an oh-God-please-shut-up-already moment for the rest of us. I heard the people behind me complaining that her voice was too sharp (that was when she shrieked - yes, shrieked - into the microphone) and they didn't get what she was saying. She thinks she has good English because she received Singaporean education. Keyword thinks. Rolls eyes.

3. Snobby Parent

    My sister sat beside a parent who brought along her daughter and her maid, no doubt thinking she's a lady who needs people to answer to her every need. I noticed that she was using a MiuMiu bag too, probably a fake, but doesn't that just emphasized my point of her being a snob? Anyway, she actually answered the principal's yelled questions. For example, when the principal asked if we liked (or something) the plastic handheld fan, she actually called, 'Very useful!' right back and waved her fan, looking as if she enjoyed herself very much indeed. But, when my sister and her friend played around, she actually glared at them and, when they accidentally touched her, told them off. So she's allowed to enjoy herself but 7-year-olds are not huh? I bet if those were her kids she'd have went, 'Owh, darlings, how adorable! Carry on carry on, let Mummy enjoy the sight of you playing! *air kisses because that's what snobs who think they are better than others do*' But since those were not her kids, she couldn't stand their lovely childish mirth, choosing instead to dash their joy and put on a high-and-mighty face. I had to bite my tongue to keep from retorting and calling her a bitch, which she totally is. I mean, who actually has the heart to stop kids from playing? Even bitches don't do that! And that is my sister she was talking to! Who does she think she is? The Queen? Wait, she probably thinks she is one.

4. Eccentric Parent Who Turns Out To Be Your Neighbour

    I sat beside a lovely old lady with a nice smiley face. When her grandson came he was totally adorable too, even trying to give me his 100 Plus. When the mother came, she gave everyone a scare. Firstly she was dressed head to toe in hot pink: pink cap, pink singlet - yes, singlet - and pink thighs, even a big pink handbag. When she sat down beside me, I could see that she had three pink hearts earrings on her left ear and two black ones on her right. Her short hair had various shades of brown and yellow. Her shoes are those 'cute' ones with Mickey Mouse and lots of colours on them. She spoke English to her kid too, which really contradicted her scary hot-pink image. I wondered how on earth can such an abnormal parent give birth to such a cute kid. After the event, my mother told me that the old lady who sat beside me is our neighbour and I was like, 'But the kid has a crazy mother!' and kept asking if she was really sure those were our neighbours. My mother says that what she wore today was nothing. When she had long hair, she used to dye it purple and pink and other unimaginable colours. All I could say is, I don't know how the heck I didn't notice her, considering the fact that she favours bright colours that can catch your eyes halfway down the street.

5. Occasional Good Stuff

    I think the people behind me hate me because I kept standing up to take a better look at my brothers. In my defense, there were tons of even more enthusiastic parents blocking my view. My brothers were so adorable! Kai kept waving and waving when he spotted my sister and me and when I stuck my tongue out at him, he stuck his right back. And the dance! They danced to 'Waka Waka' and another World Cup theme song and it was downright hilariously cute! Of course, they had danced their dance in front of me a lot of times this past month, but you know how it is, you look at your brothers looking positively adorable in the middle of a dance and you lose your head. I watched Yao raced wearing a sack with two holes in it for legs to go through, holding the opening of the sack with his hands. They lost. *sniggers* I swear the blue team, that's my bothers' team, is a total failure, but Kai won first price! Didn't get to see him race, though, because Yao was dragging me up and down the stairs. Kai nicked my mother's souvenir for being a helper for this event too, which turns out to be Koko Crunch. The opening ceremony was spectacular, with all the kids releasing a balloon each into the air. The sight of lots and lots of colourful balloons floating into the air was - take a deep breath - absolutely lovely. We went back before we collected my brothers' KFC lunch pack, which I thought was quite the best thing that the school had provided, though, because apparently it was not worth waiting for, which was just as well, I suppose, since I don't particularly feel like drooling hopelessly while my bothers wolf down their KFC.

The Amount of Sleep I Need

2010-08-27T10:29:00.007+08:00

    I once heard on the radio that we should take a day to set off our alarm clocks - let ourselves wake up naturally. Then, we'll know how much sleep we actually need every day.

    I slept at 12.30 a.m. last night and woke up at 10.00 a.m. this morning. I suppose this means that I need nine and a half hours of sleep every day to wake up bright eyed and bushy tailed. (mind you, I don't exactly feel fresh right now - even after nine and a half hours of sleep)

    So, if I need to acquire enough sleep, the said nine and a half hours, every day and still wake up at 6 ridiculous a.m. on school days, I'll need to sleep at 8.30 equally-ridiculous p.m.every night. Take out half an hour as a power nap in the afternoon and I'll need to sleep at 9 also-equally-ridiculous p.m. every night.

    Which teenager sleeps that early? At 9 p.m. the night is still oh-so-young. (though we think 12 a.m. is young too) There's a whole lot of things to do. (especially since I usually leave all my work until the very last minute) If I really want to get enough sleep, I'll be labeled as a pig. By myself.

    I suppose advices given out on radios are inapplicable to our daily lives. Or maybe teenagers are all excepted from wise advices that aim to make us strong and healthy because we just have better stuff to do than sleep early (and keep healthy). But I have a nasty feeling that I'm just not cut out to take advice. Look at how hard my father tried to make me sleep early and lead a regular lifestyle! When I think of his vain efforts I'm ashamed of myself. Not really, but still I suppose I would if I haven't been so distracted by other goodies.

    Solution? Allow me to wake up at 10 happy a.m. and go to school at 11 even-happier a.m. Then I'll be healthy as a horse. Not to mention fresh and alert and, most importantly, happy.

Best Birthday Ever

2010-08-23T23:23:00.011+08:00

    Oh hey I'm 17! And I had the best birthday ever! Seriously!

    Every year, my birthday clashes with some exam or other. For the past few years, it was music theory exam. I spent my birthday last year memorizing foreign terms. It was rewarding since I was awarded merit. This year, I spent my birthday cracking my head over Moral Studies first thing in the ridiculously early morning. And it was not rewarding. My bad. I didn't study. The reason is to be revealed. And obviously this isn't part of my 'best birthday ever'. I'm just pointing out the bad timing of my birthday, although I've always liked being a Virgo and all it indicates. Owh and another proof of my birthday's bad timing: I can't ever be sure whether I'm a Leo or a Virgo.

    My family helped me celebrate my birthday according to the Chinese calender, so it was a week earlier than the one I usually celebrate, meaning today. We went Pizza Hut and it was all very unbirthdaylike. Not even a cake present. But it wasn't a disaster, which is more than I can say for some of my past birthday celebrations. Besides that, last night, on the eve of my birthday today, we had Domino's pizza. It wasn't a celebration, of course, but hey, the connection's there.

    The celebration part isn't special, but the presents part is. I haven't received any present from my parents since I was 12, when I got a digital camera. Therefore, I can honestly say that, days after my birthday celebration, I didn't expect my mother to give me a parcel. It was badly wrapped by the Jusco staff but it's what's inside that matters. So here's what's inside: two Hush Puppies shirts, costing more than RM100. My eyes went wide when I saw the price tags. They were nice. More than nice. I can always trust my mother to make purchases for me.

    Of course, I assumed that the shirts were from both my parents, so imagine my surprise when, yet a few more days later, I was told by my mother that my father's present is on my desk. A part of me went, 'Thank God there are books on my desk,' The other part went, 'What could it be?' But I wasn't over-excited or anything. A plastic bag (those nicer-looking ones) bearing some Maxis illustrations was on my desk. But I was still calm. I mean, I was happy and all, but I wasn't over the moon. Until I found what's inside, that is. It's a broadband modem! Along with an ugly orange bottle which I gave to my brother, Yin Kai. I couldn't stop squealing and hopped from my room to look for my sister, Ying En, and gushed to the 7-year-old about my awesome present, jumping all the time. At that moment, I was brimming with joy and love for my family. Shallow, I know, but I was just so happy and grateful!

    After being deprived of internet for months, naturally I started being obsessed about getting to know the internet once more. I downloaded a ton of stuff and ... used up the download limit in a day. In my defense, I didn't know about the download limit thingy. My package is RM48 a month, download limit 1.5G. Thank goodness I can still surf the web, although the speed decreased from 300+kb to 3kb, but it's better than nothing! And that's the reason why I didn't study at all during the weekend. I know it's my fault. I'm being weak. And I'm aware that I'm misusing my father's trust. But hey it's my birthday today so I'm allowed to slack! Just today.

    Since we're having exams, I didn't celebrate my birthday with my friends. Honestly, I don't even know if I would be allowed to go since I'm grounded until SPM's over but hey, a girl a dream. But a lot of people wished me happy birthday, especially on Facebook. I have never felt so popular before, and thank goodness most of the well-wishers are people I know. Zach told Pn. Satpal about my birthday so, yeah, most of the class sang 'Happy Birthday' to me. Embarrassing yet touching. I hate the singing part of a birthday most because I never know how to react during the duration of the song. I mean, where do you look? The cake? Back to the topic: Pn. Satpal gave me some packaged thing filled with two balloons, a pen and notepads. They have KFC's chicky logo on them but who cares. The very fact that a teacher bothers giving me a present is already a miracle. My mother's friends not included of course. Daphne and I fooled around with the balloons during Moral Studies when we got tired of the test. Later, Zach burst my balloon while Chee Weng burst Daphne's, I don't want to know how.

    It was all very simple but sometimes simple is the best. When I think about the two very disastrous parties I had when I was the type of girl who wanted to impress, I want to bury my head in the floor. This? I sing its praises everywhere I go.

    And I still don't feel seventeen. *shrugs*

Fresh ... Honesty

2010-08-22T21:50:00.002+08:00

    I used to hide my identity whenever I do stuff online. I don't know, maybe I'm scared that someone will find out that I'm not actually ... good. But that excuse's kinda unacceptable since everyone already knows how unladylike I am so ... I'm going to be open about who I am now!

    I'm going to use real names when I blog. See my profile? I'm using my real name! My Twitter and Youtube still says ClassicYc but I like that name and it means a lot. You know how people say 'That's classic ...'? Well, that's the whole point of my usename.

    I love my name. I don't know why I actually took up 'English' names when I was - ahhem! - young. I feel so silly when I think about it. My name is the best. Love it!

Fresh Start

2010-08-22T21:32:00.004+08:00

    I'm going to start blogging again! And this time it's for real! Unlike the previous times. And I mean it. I need the practice.

    What brought this on? Well I've always wanted to blog more, and not just copy-and-paste forwarded emails so that people will shut up about me not updating. But before I started writing this blog post, I spelled 'afford' as 'aford' while chatting with Wilson on MSN. Of course I corrected it in time, but I actually spent a few seconds pondering over the spelling FML. If that's not the sign that I need practice, I don't know what is. Although I'm using Notepad and it doesn't come with the auto-correct thingy. I'm pardoned to be ignorant on the computer-technology thingies. Those are definitely not on my list of must-knows. Owh and I'm stuck with a version of Microsoft Office older than 2003's. Gonna take my whole laptop to my cousin, Shi Hao and make him help me install a newer version since I apparently don't know my way around the installation CD.

    The above paragraph is yet another reason why I should start blogging before it's too late: I can't stick to a topic. Of course that's OK when I'm crapping with my friends, but it is not OK when I'm trying to write an essay.

    Furthermore, my brain is taking a long time to construct sentences and string them together to form an acceptable essay. Whenever I look at a blank page, my mind goes blank as well. Very convenient.

    Last but definitely not least, have you read the essays I wrote this year? My school essays are not, well, good. My marks are really low. Even though I write more than a thousand words. Before you comment on that, I have to clarify that the reason I write so much isn't because I have a lot to say; It's because I don't know what to say, as in what's relevant and what's not. So I just jumble them up together and voila! A really, really long-winded roller coaster essay is born! And I didn't win Commonwealth. I'm not surprised I didn't win but I am disappointed. 35 Malaysians won that category and apparently I'm not even good enough to be top 35. Besides, as Chew kindly pointed out to me, the real Top 35 may not have joined. Real sympathetic friends I have. Owh and I got second place for the essay writing competition at school. But then the essay is the worst I've ever written since I entered high school. But that doesn't mean I feel good about losing.

    Soooo yeah. I'm gonna blog! Yippee!

    Owh! I want to disconnect my Twitter from Facebook. I tend to tweet too much and I hate it when people on Facebook do that so I'm gonna avoid being hated by people. Besides, I'm not popular so people don't tend to comment on my statuses much so ... Let's just say I want to spare myself the embarrassment.

    Now that's not such a bad start, isn't it?

Cambridge!

2010-08-22T01:47:00.001+08:00

Despite the fact that I've been taught that any title that ends with ! sucks, I find it very expressive.

So, what am I up to at 1 in the morning? Downloading pictures of Cambridge. Yup, I'm that desperate. There's a Chinese idiom that says 望梅止渴 which means quenching your thirst by staring at ... fruits. I'm doing exactly that. Why I don't know. It seems a form of self-torture since there's no way in hell I'll ever step into the scenes in the pictures. Apparently I'm a masochistic fool after all. Which probably explains why I'll never ever get the chance to witness the glory of Cambridge.

Anyway, I downloaded them from Wikipedia. Did the same for the captions but what the heck.


Clare College (left) and King’s College Chapel (centre), built between 1441 and 1515.


Trinity Lane in the snow, with King's College Chapel (centre) and Clare College Chapel (right).

The Mathematical Bridge over the river Cam (at Queens’ College).

Great Court of King's College.

View over Trinity College, Gonville and Caius, Trinity Hall and Clare College towards King’s College Chapel, seen from St John’s College chapel. On the left, just in front of Kings College chapel, is the University Senate House.

The Fitzwilliam Museum, the art and antiquities museum of the University of Cambridge.

Great Court of Trinity College, dating back to the 17th Century.

Aren't they impressive? You don't get to find views like that just anywhere. I thought I would be ok with not ever setting foot on Cambridge until I saw these. My desktop is now the Mathematical Bridge and my screensaver is all of the above. My favourite scenery is the Trinity Lane and it is now my account picture. Gonna try to find more pictures.

I must say though, me spending time fuelling my obsession slash desire is not helping me in the getting-into-Cambridge department.

Potential Oral Material

2010-04-18T22:36:00.001+08:00

A very good morning to everyone. As you can see, I'm holding something in my hands: Fake breasts. In fact it has been oh so creatively made by one of you. A work of art i assure you.

    So anyway it has been made to serve a purpose and after the purpose has been served, naturally as fresh YOUNG IMMATURE BABIES, you guys see the need to play with it. And after you've satisfied your curiousity holding FAKE BREASTS in your eager hands, you decided to further the fun by presenting it to an opposite sex since you're convinced that she, like you, has never seen breasts before. At first you decided that stuffing it in her drawer will suffice but after that you're still unsatisfied. So while a certain female has been DOING GOOD, you decided to stuff it into her bag, for her to admire all weekend no doubt. So anyway, the question is, my dear friends, what are the consequences?

    Well firstly you will get big laugh over the thought that you've done good by enlightening someone on breasts. Then well you might not be able to laugh that much after all. You see, this female, being ten times more matured than you, certainly did not laugh. So here are a few things she might do:

    One, she might decide to let YOU wear them and glue it to your skin with elephant glue to indicate the size of you tinny winny brain. Owh she realizes that it will not stick long but she sure as hell will enjoy looking at you yelling with pain while you wrench it from your skin. Owh and she wont mind it if you bring out skin either. Secondly, she might decide to strangle you with it. She might sling them around your neck and hold tight and firm until you face turns blue and you stop breathing. Thirdly, she might shove it down your throat.The whole thing. And don't underestimate the size of your mouth 'cause this thing is sure as hell going in if the female wants it to.Until it reaches your intestine. If she has to, she'll do it. Naturally you airway will be cut off and well you will have pretty much the same ending as the first option. Fourth, she can shove it in from the OTHER end. Good news though. It might damage your internal organs but you wont die. Fifth option: she might kill you with your bare hands. I've heard that people can achieve extremities when emotions overcome them. And lastly, she might make it an oral topic.

    Thank you very much.

Trying to be - ahhem! - Personal

2010-04-17T01:55:00.001+08:00

    I haven't been blogging for God knows how long. No. Copying forwarded mails does not count as blogging. I'm perfectly aware that my blog is a very impersonal one. And I actually intended to keep it that way. After all, who likes to listen to someone rant on and on and on and on? I certainly don't. I'm just not one of those girls who are comfortable with strangers and near strangers reading their deepest emotions. I confess that I scoff at bloggers who do that. And I don't do the haha and hoho and hehe thing to fill up my blankness either. It's just not me.

    But that, my dear friends, is the problem I have right now. Look at my blog. Read it. Can you find anything that reflect me? No. Even I can't find that. If you do then well you've found the wrong thing. Yes I have a few emotional posts from last year, and even I myself can't bear to read them. From this anyone can see that my blog is not me.

    I used to love to write. I don't get deformed fingers for nothing! I started writing, as a hobby, when I was eight and I got my first computer. My parents deleted the story I think. And I cried. I used to write diaries, but I discard them after about a month everytime I try. Why? I don't exactly know why. When I look back at what I wrote in my diary, I cringe. Everything feels so tragic when I was writing. Everything feels so exaggerated when I was reading. And I don't like it. I feel uncomfortable revealing my feelings. Even if I was probably the only one who was gonna read it, I don't like it. I've torn up every single one of my diaries.

    Anyway, I don't write anymore. The pen doesn't feel like it belongs in my hands anymore. I've grown more accustomed to typing. I'm quite a fast typer if I do say so myself. But no I can't write. And I feel like I'm losing something I priced. When you read classics, you don't read about the love-lorn characters frantically typing on keyboards do you? No, they write. With real pen and paper. Of course I can always type, but somehow, that feels too sophisticated for me. Laying that aside, however, I still don't feel like writing a story. Maybe reading has made me lazy. Who knows.

    As of now, I have two essays to finish this month and lots of meeting minutes to complete. Yes I confess I've been slacking. But I keep getting attacked by writer's block, and trust me, this is not an excuse. I can't just rant off something random! I have to make my writings perfect before I can present it to other people. I have a reputation to keep. Talking about that, I'm gonna die of mortification if my essay-which-has-not-won-even-the-school-competition gets published in the yearbook. It's so horrible! Compare it with Blue which I wrote two years ago. The difference could not be more prominent. I need time to produce good work. Do you have any idea how many editing Blue went through before it got awarded by Commonwealth? Yes I'm aware that 'commended' isn't that big a deal to some, but it is to me.

    And this is about as personal as I can get. Kinda got distracted. Which is one of the main reasons why I don't blog by the way.

Moms

2010-03-27T02:53:00.000+08:00

Mom and Dad were watching TV when Mom said, 'I'm tired, and it's getting late. I think I'll go to bed'.
She went to the kitchen to make sandwiches for the next day's lunches.Rinsed out the popcorn bowls,took meat out of the freezer for supper the following evening, checked the cereal box levels, filled the sugarcontainer, put spoons and bowls on the table and started the coffee pot for brewing the next morning.She then put some wet clothes in the dryer, put a load of clothes into the washer , ironed a shirt and secured a loose button. She picked up the game pieces left on the table, put the phone back on the charger and put the telephone book into the drawer.She watered the plants, emptied a wastebasket and hung up a towel to dry.

She yawned and stretched and headed for the bedroom. She stopped by the desk, wrote a note to the teacher,counted out some cash for the field trip, and pulled a text book out from hiding under the chair

She signed a birthday card for a friend, addressed and stamped the envelope and wrote a quick note for the grocery store.. She put both near her purse.
Mom then washed her face with 3 in 1 cleanser, put on her Night solution & age fighting moisturiz er, brushed and flossed her teeth and filed her nails..
Dad called out, 'I thought you were going to bed...'
'I'm on my way,' she said
She put some water into the dog's dishthen made sure the doors were locked and the patio light was on.
She looked in on each of the kids and turned out their bedside lamps and TV's , hung up a shirt,threw some dirty socks into the hamper, and had a brief conversation with the one up still doing homework. In her own room, she set the alarm ; laid out clothing for the next day, straightened up the shoe rack. She added three things to her 6 most important things to do list. She said her prayers, and visualized the accomplishment of her goals.

About that time, Dad turned off the TV and announced to no one in particular.. 'I'm going to bed'

And he did. without another thought.
Anything extraordinary here? Wonder why women live longer...?
Cause we are made for the long haul....(and we can't die sooner, we still have things to do!!!!)

A Bit of Physics Humour‏

2010-03-27T02:51:00.000+08:00

Sir Ernest Rutherford, President of the Royal Academy, and recipient of the Nobel Prize in Physics, related the following story:

“Some time ago I received a call from a colleague. He was about to give a student a zero for his answer to a physics question, while the student claimed a perfect score. The instructor and the student agreed to an impartial arbiter, and I was selected.

I read the examination question: “Show how it is possible to determine the height of a tall building with the aid of a barometer.”

The student had answered: “Take the barometer to the top of the building,attach a long rope to it, lower it to the street, and then bring it up, measuring the length of the rope. The length of the rope is the height of the building.”

The student really had a strong case for full credit since he had really answered the question completely and correctly! On the other hand, if full credit were given, it could well contribute to a high grade in his physics course and certify competence in physics, but the answer did not confirm this. I suggested that the student have another try. I gave the student six minutes to answer the question with the warning that the answer should show some knowledge of physics.

At the end of five minutes, he hadn’t written anything. I asked if he wished to give up, but he said he had many answers to this problem; he was just thinking of the best one. I excused myself for interrupting him and asked him to please go on. In the next minute, he dashed off his answer, which read: “Take the barometer to the top of the building and lean over the edge of the roof. Drop the barometer, timing its fall with a stopwatch.

Then, using the formula x=0.5*a*t^2, calculate the height of the building.”

At this point, I asked my colleague if he would give up. He conceded, and gave the student almost full credit. While leaving my colleague’s office, I recalled that the student had said that he had other answers to the problem, so I asked him what they were.

“Well,” said the student, “there are many ways of getting the height of a tall building with the aid of a barometer. For example, you could take the barometer out on a sunny day and measure the height of the barometer, the length of its shadow, and the length of the shadow of the building, and by the use of simple proportion, determine the height of the building.”

“Fine,” I said, “and others?”

“Yes,” said the student, “there is a very basic measurement method you will like. In this method, you take the barometer and begin to walk up the stairs. As you climb the stairs, you mark off the length of the barometer along the wall. You then count the number of marks, and his will give you the height of the building in barometer units.”

“A very direct method.”

“Of course. If you want a more sophisticated method, you can tie the barometer to the end of a string, swing it as a pendulum, and determine the value of g [gravity] at the street level and at the top of the building. From the difference between the two values of g, the height of the building, in principle, can be calculated.”

“On this same tack, you could take the barometer to the top of the building, attach a long rope to it, lower it to just above the street, and then swing it as a pendulum. You could then calculate the height of the building by the period of the precession”.

“Finally,” he concluded, “probably the best,” he said, “is to take the barometer to the basement and knock on the superintendent’s door. When the superintendent answers, you speak to him as follows: ‘Mr. Superintendent, here is a fine barometer. If you will tell me the height of the building, I will give you this barometer.”

At this point, I asked the student if he really did not know the conventional answer to this question. He admitted that he did, but said that he was fed up with high school and college instructors trying to teach him how to think.

The name of the student was…

Neils Bohr

The Nobel Prize winner in Physics 1922

Never laugh at a Chinese

2010-03-27T02:46:00.001+08:00

A Chinese man walks into a bank in New York City and asks for the loan officer. He tells the loan officer that he is going to China on business for two weeks and needs to borrow $5,000.

The bank officer tells him that the bank will need some form of security for the loan, so the Chinese man hands over the keys to a new Ferrari parked on the street in front of the bank.. He produces the title and everything checks out.

The Loan officer agrees to accept the car as collateral for the loan. The bank's president and its officers all enjoy a good laugh at the Chinese for using a $250,000 Ferrari as collateral against a $5,000 loan.
An employee of the bank then drives the Ferrari into the bank's underground garage and parks it there.

Two weeks later, the Chinese returns, repays the $5,000 and the interest, which comes to $15.41.
The loan officer says, 'Sir, we are very happy to have had your business, and this transaction has worked out very nicely, but we are a little puzzled. While you were away, we checked you out and found that you are a multi-millionaire. What puzzles us is why you would bother to borrow $5,000? The Chinese replies: 'Where else in New York City can I park my car for two weeks for only $15.41 and expect it to be there safely when I return.'

Value of Time‏

2010-03-27T02:41:00.000+08:00

To realize the value of ONE YEAR, ask a student who failed a grade.

To realize the value of ONE MONTH, ask a mother who gave birth to a pre-mature baby.

To realize the value of ONE WEEK, ask the editor of a weekly newspaper.

To realize the value of ONE DAY, ask a daily wage laborer with kids to feed.

To realize the value of ONE HOUR, ask the lovers who are waiting to meet.

To realize the value of ONE MINUTE, ask a person who missed the train.

To realize the value of ONE SECOND, ask a person who just avoided an accident.

To realize the value of ONE MILLI-SECOND, ask the person who won a silver medal in the Olympics.

Funny Slogans

2010-03-27T01:56:00.000+08:00

Advertisement In A Long Island Shop:
Guitar, for sale....... Cheap...........no strings attached.

Ad In Hospital Waiting Room:
Smoking Helps You Lose Weight ... One Lung At A Time!

On a bulletin board:
Success Is Relative. The more The Success, The more The Relatives.
(they will look for you..)

When I Read About The Evils Of Drinking...
I Gave Up Reading .

My Grandfather Is Eighty And Still Doesn't Need Glasses...
He Drinks Straight Out Of The Bottle.

You Know Your kids Have Grown Up When:
Your Daughter Begins To Put On Lipstick..
Or when your Son starts To wipe It Off.

Sign In A Bar:
'Those Of You Who Are Drinking To Forget, Please do Pay In Advance.'

Sign In Driving School:
If Your Wife Wants To Learn To Drive, Don't Stand In Her Way.

Behind Every Great Man,
There Is A Surprised Woman.

The Reason Men Lie Is Because
Women Ask too Many Questions.

Getting Caught
Is The Mother Of Invention.

Laugh And The World Laughs With You,
Snore And You sleep Alone.

The Surest Sign That Intelligent Life Exists Elsewhere In The Universe
Is The Fact That It Has Never Tried To Contact Us.

Sign At A Barber's Saloon In Detroit :
We Need Your Heads To Run Our Business.

A Traffic Slogan:
Don't Let Your Kids Drive If They are Not Old Enough
Or Else They Will Never Be.

Sign In A Restaurant:
All Drinking Water In This Establishment Has Been Personally Passed By The Manager.

Sign On A Famous Beauty Parlor Window:
Don't Whistle At The Girls Going Out From Here.
She May Be Your Grandmother !

History Mystery

2010-03-27T01:08:00.000+08:00

Abraham Lincoln was elected to Congress in 1846.
John F. Kennedy was elected to Congress in 1946.

Abraham Lincoln was elected President in 1860.
John F. Kennedy was elected President in 1960.

Both were particularly concerned with civil rights.
Both wives lost their children while living in the White House.

Both Presidents were shot on a Friday.
Both Presidents were shot in the head

Now it gets really weird.

Lincoln 's secretary was named Kennedy.
Kennedy's Secretary was named Lincoln .

Both were assassinated by Southerners.
Both were succeeded by Southerners named Johnson.

Andrew Johnson, who succeeded Lincoln, was born in 1808.
Lyndon Johnson, who succeeded Kennedy, was born in 1908.

Both assassins were known by their three names.
Both names are com posed of fifteen letters.

Now hang on to your seat..

Lincoln was shot at the theater named 'Ford'.
Kennedy was shot in a car called ' Lincoln ' made by 'Ford'.

Lincoln was shot in a theater and his assassin ran and hid in a warehouse.
Kennedy was shot from a warehouse and his assassin ran and hid in a theater.

Booth and Oswald were assassinated before their trials.

And here's the kicker...

A week before Lincoln was shot, he was in Monroe , Maryland
A week before Kennedy was shot, he was with Marilyn Monroe.

Did You Know

2010-03-27T00:57:00.000+08:00

丢了翅膀，他仍是天使

2010-03-27T00:25:00.000+08:00

当在外地出差的我坐飞机赶回来时,十个月的儿子新新已经被推出抢救室。医生说持续的高烧也许损伤了脑神经,我要有心理准备接受可能的后遗症。

老公两天后才从国外回来。出院后，我们常常测试新新的听力和视觉, 没有发现任何异常。我们终于放下忐忑的心。可渐渐地,我发现他开始瞪着无神的眼睛发呆,或者呈现一种令我不安的笑容.当和新新一般大的孩子开始迈着步子，清脆地喊着爸爸妈妈的时候, 新新依旧呆呆坐在那里，傻傻地笑着。抱着他四处求医，结论同出一辙：新新的智力将会停留在幼儿期，除非发生奇迹。

那是段痛不欲生的日子，抱着孩子寻找各种可能的奇迹，秘方、偏方，甚至针灸。那长长的针如同刺在我的心尖，汗和泪伴着孩子凄厉的哭声一起落下。我多么希望这只是一场梦，梦醒后充满灵气的新新在对我甜甜地笑。我开始幻听，总感觉新新在喊妈妈。

我深深自责为了事业没有照顾好儿子，却不敢留在家里面对。每天下班后沉默地搂着他，日复一日，泪流尽了，心也似乎麻木了。老公也因为家里气氛沉闷，渐渐变得很少回家吃饭。

婆婆来看我们，说把新新带走，让我们再要一个孩子。我不假思索断然拒绝，我不能那样做!他没有选择地来到这个世界，又因为我的疏忽变成这样，已经够不幸了!把新新紧紧搂在怀里，我不要别人分享对他的爱！

新新两周岁生日那天，我才惊觉老公已经不再陪我们一起吃饭了，怕失去他的恐慌开始噬咬着我，使我觉得难以呼吸。直至深夜，一身酒气踉踉跄跄的老公才踏进家门，我已经荒芜的泪水终于又奔涌出来。老婆，我们再要一个孩子好吗?我狠狠点着头，与他紧紧相拥，抵死缠绵…… 我又怀孕了！抚着逐渐隆起的小腹，有些苦涩的甜蜜。我仿佛比谁都期待这个孩子，却又在内心里抗拒这个孩子。看到新新向我伸来的手臂，我的心又涌起巨大的痛楚：新新，这个世界，除了妈妈谁还能爱你! 我终于下定决心打掉这个孩子，可检查结果使我震惊：我竟然怀了双胞胎！

2002年的夏天，一对漂亮的小女孩阳阳和月月降临了。满月以后，那对粉雕玉琢的小人，总是甜甜地笑，很少哭闹。只要我一说话，头就随着我的声音转，让我充分享受到做妈妈的喜悦。我已经顾不上新新，无论我多么约束自己，潜意识里我已经开始忽略新新，只把他交给保姆，甚至开始讨厌他那傻傻的样子。

转眼，阳阳和月月会走了。新新一般不注意什么，只是对这两个妹妹格外敏感，常常注视她们的一举一动，似乎带着极大的兴趣，而且不同于平时的眼神。我是不允许他接近她们的，他只能那样在一边望着，可我控制不住阳阳和月月蹒跚迈向新新的脚步，她们同样对新新表现出极大的兴趣。而我却舍不得强迫她们什么，只是一次又一次严厉地对新新说，记住，不许碰妹妹!不许碰妹妹！渐渐地，他对我有了怯意，我却丝毫没觉得有何不妥。

一天，孩子们在午睡，保姆出去买菜，我去储物间整理衣物。突然听到孩子的哭声，我连忙跑进卧室，看到新新正从床的栏杆间缝向外拉月月的两根手指，手指被卡住，新新还在用力向外拉。
我一把拉过新新，照着他的手，狠狠拍打，不是告诉你不许碰妹妹，不许碰妹妹吗!看你以后还碰不碰妹妹!我越打越生气，似乎在发泄对他积累的厌恶。我疯了似的寻找可以用来打他的东西，
直到看见镜子里自己魔鬼一样的脸。我终于听到孩子们的哭声，终于看到蜷缩一团哭泣的新新，还有女儿们的喊叫声……

保姆回来了，抱起新新，看着我余怒未消的脸想说什么，我摆摆手让她抱新新回自己的房间。
我哄着阳阳和月月，突然看到床上有几块动物饼干，阳阳的手里还握着一块要喂我。
我连忙到月月那边，果然月月那边床下有几块饼干，已经被我踩碎了。新新最喜欢吃动物饼干，原来他拉妹妹的手是要给妹妹饼干。我的心被刺痛了，连忙到他的房间，他已经被保姆哄睡了，
可还在睡梦里抽搐着。我不禁泛起一阵酸楚，我这是怎么了?我还是他的妈妈吗'

一天，我和女儿们玩着拥抱的游戏。我拍拍手，她们就喊着妈妈，张着小胳膊争先恐后向我跑来，然后我们紧紧拥抱。这么简单的游戏，她们却乐此不疲，一遍又一遍。忽然，新新也张开他的胳膊，向我跑来，含糊地说着，妈妈，妈妈。我简直不相信自己的耳朵!我的儿子，自从来到这个世界，从没开过口! 紧紧搂住扑到怀里的新新，我哭了。已经对他沉睡的母爱被重新唤起，儿子，妈妈有多久没搂过你，妈妈对不起你！

我终于开始认真思考我的孩子们，我有一个与众不同的家庭，我竟然有三个孩子！他们正渐渐长大，将来要有他们自己的人生。等我离开这个世界时，只有他们之间才能互相照顾。尤其新新，他需要好多好多的爱。

我不再分隔他们，而是常常告诉女儿们，要好好爱哥哥，因为没有他, 就没有她们。我知道她们听不懂，我只希望她们会记住我的话。

我每天陪三个孩子做游戏，唱歌，跳舞，为他们讲故事。而新新，越来越有灵气，不但会叫爸爸、妹妹了，还会含糊表达自己的需要，而且会随着节奏跳些简单的舞步。看着并成一排熟睡中的孩子们，我终于相信这个世界上有奇迹，那就是爱，爱可以创造一切！

阳阳和月月到了上幼儿园的年龄，我也该上班了。为了减少我的负担，婆婆来商量着把新新接走。我犹豫再三，其实按新新现在的情况，勉强可以上幼儿园，可他毕竟和别的孩子不一样，我害怕来自外界给他的伤害。

新新被带走的那个晚上，女儿们不肯上床睡觉，一定要等哥哥回来。她们闪着漂亮的大眼睛问我，哥哥什么时候回来?为什么哥哥不上幼儿园? 我的心一凛，回答她们，哥哥生病了，要好长时间才会好。她们又问。他会想我们的，为什么我们不照顾他呢?快让哥哥回来，我们会照顾他的。我的心紧了又紧，你们要乖乖的，只要你们听话，哥哥就会回来。她们终于乖乖睡下，而我在黑夜里挂念着新新。儿子，你好吗？

女儿们只去了三天幼儿园，就说什么也不肯去了，告诉我幼儿园里有好多好玩的玩具，还有好多的小朋友，还学习新歌，认字，英语，她们要等哥哥回来一起去。她们充满期盼的眼睛望着我，还带有小小的挑衅。我讶于她们的执拗，耐着性子哄着她们，可她们却怎么也不肯答应。我沉下脸一手抱着一个，她们哇哇哭起来，妈妈骗人，说只要我们乖，哥哥就会回来，我们都听话了，可哥哥还是没有回来!

我的心猛地僵住了!压抑的眼泪再也控制不住，你们的哥哥，他和别人不一样，他永远学不会那些东西!女儿们为我擦着泪，会的，会的，妈妈，哥哥能学会的，我们会帮助他的!看着她们，我感到了做妈妈的歉疚，我只会一味逃避，以为自己很爱新新，却不如孩子们充满信心去面对。

门铃响，竟然是婆婆送新新回来了!几天不见，新新瘦了好多。婆婆无奈地说，这几天新新几乎没吃东西，也不肯睡觉，只一直哭, 喊着妹妹，妹妹。她看了心里实在难受，不得已就送回来了。

女儿们兴奋起来，拉着新新的手，开始讲幼儿园的事情，还催促我为新新换最漂亮的衣服，他们要一起去幼儿园。

我找到园长，请求她让我的孩子们在一起。因为按照新新的年龄应该上大班，可他的智力水平还不如小班的孩子。当看到我的女儿们一边一个拉着儿子的手，并挥手和我再见的时候。我相信这个决定是对的，爱会为我们创造更多的奇迹。

每天从幼儿园回来，阳阳和月月都帮助新新复习一天学过的东西，而且不许我插手。我的女儿们是班里最出色的孩子，学什么都特别快，而且记得牢。我知道那是因为她们要教哥哥，所以格外用心去学习。从没看过比她们还有耐心的孩子，轮流一遍又一遍教着笨拙的新新，一个单词往往要重复好多好多遍，甚至梦里还在喃喃。每次新新学会了，她们就会欢呼起来，然后学着幼儿园老师的样子翘起大拇指说，哥哥你好棒，哥哥你真棒！而我的儿子，就看着妹妹，傻傻憨憨地笑着。

老师要求每个孩子学习写自己的名字，这对新新来讲简直是不可能的事情。可一个月后的一天，
女儿们兴奋地拉着儿子跑来告诉我，哥哥会写自己的名字了I我将信将疑地看着儿子在纸上歪歪扭扭地写下两个大大的'新'字，尤其敖看到他们练习的本子，我小小的女儿们，竟然知道把哥哥的名字拆成笔划来教，好几个本子写着他们循序渐进的过程，我再一次被女儿们的耐心折服得泪流满面。

一天，我去接他们。走到教室门口，听到有个孩子喊着，你们的哥哥是个傻孩子！我一惊，连忙走进去。我示意正要阻止的老师，决定让孩子们自己去面对。只见阳阳憋红了小脸对那个孩子说，我的哥哥不是傻孩子，他是天使，他丢了翅膀，来到我们家，变成一个世界上最好的哥哥, 他只不过还没习惯人间的生活。孩子们发出'哇'的惊叹声，你们的哥哥竟然是天使哎！老师含着眼泪搂过阳阳，对孩子们说，新新是我们班的天使，他会爱我们每个小朋友，还教会我们如何去爱别人。

回家的路上，我的心被女儿编织的故事激荡着。我问她们为什么那么爱哥哥，她们一起回答，因为没有哥哥就没有我们啊! 忽地泪又盈满我的眼，原来她们已经牢牢记住了我的话，那么小，就学会了爱和感恩。他们是上天赐给彼此的天使，也是上天送给我最珍贵的礼物。因为他们，我才知道，做妈妈是那么值得骄傲和幸福!

What Makes A Malysian A Malaysian

2010-02-23T16:35:00.000+08:00

1. A typical young Malaysian can name all the players from a top English Premier League club, but ask him to name one football player from Malaysia, he cannot!

2. When StreamyX come, you complain StreamyX too slow. When Maxis Broadband come, you complain Maxis Broadband always disconnects. When WiMax come, you complain Wimax too expensive. In the end, you say StreamyX still the best lah.

3. When highway toll price increase, you complain. When petrol price increase, you complain. When you go Starbucks buy RM10 coffee, NO COMPLAINTS.

4. When you cannot find parking in a shopping mall and have to walk very far, you complain. When you go inside the shopping mall and there's SALE , run from one end of 1Utama to the other, that one NO COMPLAINT..

5. You are always late. And the excuse you give when you're late is always either: (a) traffic jam (b) no transport or (c) cannot find parking.

6. You have a parent who forces you to take science stream in high school, study engineering in Uni, then when you graduate, they ask you to forget everything you learnt in Uni and do commerce..

7. You know someone who can specially develop an angmoh accent when speaking to an American / British / Australian.

8. You complain against the government in kopitiam, you talk loud loud. Leave anonymous comments on blogs, you also talk loud loud. Attend ceremah by DAP, you shout loud loud. Then when Opposition organise a protest and ask you to go, you dun wan. Scared later kena tangkap by ISA.

9. Every year on the 30th April, you are one of the people below queuing up last minute to submit your tax return at the IRB.

10. When you pay RM10 for something that costs RM1, you blame the Chinese.

11. When a government service is too slow, you blame the Malays.

12. When a building is not good and collapsed, you blame the Indians...

13. When a Chinese student won a scholarship, you say 'Wah! Very clever hor?' When a Malay student won a scholarship, you say 'Aiya! Of course lah! He Malay mah!'

14. When an angmoh stranger kisses you on the cheek to say hello, you very happy. When a Malaysian guy kisses you on the cheek to say hello, you slap him in face.

Bandung, Indonesia (Updated)

2010-02-19T16:47:00.001+08:00

Ravenclaw squeals

2010-01-29T23:22:00.004+08:00

Which Hogwarts house will you be sorted into?

A Very Successful Repeat Of Classic

2010-01-26T22:55:00.004+08:00

~~Disney's~~ James Cameron's
~~Pocahontas~~ Avatar

In ~~1607~~ 2194, a ship carrying ~~John~~ Jake ~~Smith~~ Sully arrives in the lush "new world" of ~~North America~~ Pandora. The settlers are mining for ~~gold~~ unobtanium, under supervision of ~~Governor Ratcliffe~~ Colonel Quaritch. ~~John Smith~~ Jake Sully begins exploring the new territory, and encounters ~~Pocahontas~~ Neytiri. Initially she is distrustful of him, but a message from ~~Grandmother Willow~~ Tree of Souls helps her overcome her trepidation. The two begin spending time together. ~~Pocahontas~~ Neytiri helps ~~John~~ Jake understand that all life is valuable, and how all nature is a connected circle of life. Furthermore she teaches him how to hunt, ~~grow crops~~ tame dragons, and of her culture. We find that her father is Chief ~~Powhatan~~ Eytucan, and that she is set to be married to ~~Kocoum~~ Tsu'tey, a great warrior, but a serious man, whom ~~Pocahontas~~ Neytiri does not desire. Over time, ~~John~~ Jake and ~~Pocahontas~~ Neytiri find they have a love for each other. Back at the settlement, the men, who believe the natives are savages, plan to attack the natives for their ~~gold~~ unobtanium. ~~Kocoum~~ Tsu'tey tries to kill ~~John~~ Jake out of jealousy, but he is later killed by the settlers. As the settlers prepare to attack, ~~John~~ Jake is later blamed by the ~~Indians~~ Na'vi, and is sentenced to death. Just before they kill him, the settlers arrive. Chief ~~Powhatan~~ Eytucan is ~~nearly~~ killed, and ~~John~~ Jake sustains injuries from ~~Governor Ratcliffe~~ Colonel Quaritch, who is then ~~bought to justice~~ shot with arrows. ~~Pocahontas~~ Neytiri risks her life to save ~~John~~ Jake. ~~John~~ Jake and ~~Pocahontas~~ Neytiri finally have each other, and the two cultures resolve their differences.

Extract from Lionel Shriver's The Post-Birthday World

2010-01-24T12:15:00.001+08:00

Irina had liked to think of herself as a decent person. Yet in this most telling of spheres her behavior had grown disreputable overnight. While she might have preferred to regard her two-timing as "out of character," it is never persuasive to argue that you are not the kind of person who does what you're actually doing. Ipso facto, her furtive afternoons with Ramsey Acton were necessarily in character. For that matter, barring the onset of brain-washing diseases like variant Creutzfeldt-Jakob, there may be no such thing as behaving "out of character." Should what you get up to fail to comport with who you think you are, something is surely inaccurate (and likely optimistic) about who you think you are. Since Irina had not consumed enough British beef to blame vCJD, she was not therefore "a decent person." but a duplicitous, traitorous tramp whose attachments were shallow. whose word, implicit or otherwise, meant nothing, and who was hell-bent on defiling the finest elements both of her life and in herself.

Let's Try This for SPM

2010-01-13T20:58:00.001+08:00

The following questions were set in last year's GCSE examination in the U.K.

These are genuine answers (from 16 year olds)....

Q. Name the four seasons
A. Salt, pepper, mustard and vinegar

Q. Explain one of the processes by which water can be made safe to drink
A. Flirtation makes water safe to drink because it removes large pollutants like grit, sand, dead sheep and canoeists

Q. How is dew formed
A. The sun shines down on the leaves and makes them perspire

Q. What causes the tides in the oceans
A. The tides are a fight between the earth and the moon. All water tends to flow towards the moon, because there is no water on the moon, and nature abhors a vacuum. I forget where the sun joins the fight

Q. What guarantees may a mortgage company insist on
A. If you are buying a house they will insist that you are well endowed

Q. In a democratic society, how important are elections
A. Very important. Sex can only happen when a male gets an election

Q. What are steroids
A. Things for keeping carpets still on the stairs (Shoot yourself now , there is little hope)

Q. What happens to your body as you age
A. When you get old, so do your bowels and you get intercontinental

Q. What happens to a boy when he reaches puberty
A. He says goodbye to his boyhood and looks forward to his adultery (So true)

Q. Name a major disease associated with cigarettes
A. Premature death

Q. What is artificial insemination
A. When the farmer does it to the bull instead of the cow

Q. How can you delay milk turning sour
A. Keep it in the cow (Simple, but brilliant)

Q. How are the main 20 parts of the body categorised (e.g. The abdomen)
A. The body is consisted into 3 parts - the brainium, the borax and the abdominal cavity. The brainium contains the brain, the borax contains the heart and lungs and the abdominal cavity contains the five bowels: A, E, I, O and U (What the *!!*???)

Q. What is the fibula?
A. A small lie

Q. What does 'varicose' mean?
A. Nearby

Q. What is the most common form of birth control
A. Most people prevent contraception by wearing a condominium (That would work)

Q. Give the meaning of the term 'Caesarean section'
A. The caesarean section is a district in Rome

Q. What is a seizure?
A. A Roman Emperor. (Julius Seizure, I came, I saw, I had a fit)

Q. What is a terminal illness
A. When you are sick at the airport. (Irrefutable)

Q. Give an example of a fungus. What is a characteristic feature?
A. Mushrooms. They always grow in damp places and they look like umbrellas

Q. Use the word 'judicious' in a sentence to show you understand its meaning
A. Hands that judicious can be soft as your face. (OMG)

Q. What does the word 'benign' mean?
A. Benign is what you will be after you be eight

Q. What is a turbine?
A. Something an Arab or Shreik wears on his head.

15 Things You Didn't Know About The Human Body

2010-01-08T22:17:00.003+08:00

1. The nose can remember 50,000 scents.

2. The energy used by the brain is enough to light up a 25watt bulb.

3. The smallest bone in the human body is the stapes or stirrup bone located in the middle ear. It is approximately 0.11 inches.

4. The heart produces enough pressure to squirt blood 30 feet.

5. Similar to finger prints, everybody's tongue has a unique tongue print.

6. You get a new stomach lining every three or four days. If you didn't, the strong acids your stomach uses to digest food will also digest your stomach.

7. The average human sheds 40 lbs of skin in a lifetime.

8. There are over 650 muscles in the body.

9. A fingernail takes about 6 months to grow from base to tips.

10. The smallest intestines are about 25 feet long.

11. A full bladder is roughly the size of a soft ball.

12. Human thigh bones are stronger than concrete.

13. Each square inch of human skin consists of twenty feet of blood vessels.

14. Humans have as many hairs per square inch as chimpanzees.

15. A pair of feet have 500,000 sweat glands.

Sex Education

2010-01-08T22:05:00.000+08:00

一个男孩的心声：

当你脱下她衣服裤子的同时　你就要负责让她为你穿上婚纱

我是男孩，我理解男孩的心情，我也知道在青春期的时候，我们对女孩，尤其是自己的女友充满了好奇．并且我们都在自己的内心里想过要偷尝禁果。

于是，我们会对自己的女友说出自己的想法，甚到提出性要求。而女孩呢，说真的，当女孩真的爱上男孩的时候，是愿意为男孩做任何的事情。她们为了满足她们心爱男孩的需要，为了不让心爱的男友失望，尽管她们的心里充满恐　惧，一些女孩还是会答应男友的要求。

我想知道的是在发生性关系的时候有多少男孩注意过自己的女孩的表情？在要发生的那一刻，她们脸上表现出来的多半是害怕，焦虑和不安，并不是满足和欲望！在这个时候的我们男孩又在注意什么呢？我们有没有注意到她们的表情？有没有想过她们当时的心里的感受？

我说了我也是男孩，因此，我知道，在那个时候我们最想做的就是让自己的欲望得到发泄，让自己很久的愿望得到实现．曾经我也和很多人一样，想要和自己爱的女孩发生那样的关系，并且向她提出了我的要求，像我说的那样她答应了。我知道当时的她并不知道那意味着什么，也不知道究竟要发生些什么。我猜当时的她只知道：＂这是我男友的愿望，是他想要的，我就要满足他，只要他高兴就好。”女孩真的没有想过其他的事情。

就在我要进入她的身体的时候，我抬起头看了她一眼，当我看到她那双无辜的眼睛紧紧的闭着的时候，我突然发现自己是那么的禽兽不如，难道我曾经对她说过的那些海誓山盟，许下的那些誓言．通通都是在骗她吗　我真的爱她吗　我感觉得到她在发抖　我知道她很害怕于是我轻轻的爬在她的耳边问了她一句：＂你害怕吗？＂

她睁开眼睛看着我，我看得到她的泪，她点点头．接着我又说了一句：＂那我们还是不要做了．￣￣￣￣我又再一次看到了，我爱的她美丽的笑容，她抱住了我开心的说了一句：＂我爱你！＂我突然间觉得很开心，很快乐，这些通通胜过了满足我的欲望所能得到的快乐，我发现那个也并不是很重要了，我还有更重要的，那就是

她，我最爱的宝贝．

我说我的故事只是想说一点，当女孩爱上男孩的时候，她们愿意为我们做任何的事情，付出任何的代价而且也不会后悔，但是，我们做为男人是不是也应该为她们做一点事情？学会爱护她们、尊重她们、关心她们，也让她们为拥有我们真挚的爱开心呢!

男孩子,你们听见了吗?

Perfect Plan RUINED

2010-01-04T22:26:00.003+08:00

WHY? WHY THE HELL DID I ACTUALLY VOLUNTEER TO GO FOR TUITION? AFTER 16 TUITION-FREE YEARS, I GOT SUCKED INTO THIS TRAP. WHY? AND NOW I CAN'T FIND A WAY TO GET OUT OF IT!

Sure I admit that I'm kinda full-of-myself. Wait that sounds wrong. I just have this trust on myself. I believe that the only reason I fail is because I didn't put enough effort. And it's true. It's not like I don't feel bad failing or anything, but I just didn't have the failed feel when I was supposed to be putting in the aforementioned effort. Therefore, I'll just ... sleep off. I don't see me being insomniatic when it comes to exams wth. It's all about bad timing I suppose. The other reason I always fail is because I suck at keeping schedules. Look at me now. I promised Pa I'd try going to bed at 10, you know, for a healthy lifestyle and everything. And yet I'm here wth.

Anyway, I've worked out a perfect schedule. But it's now ruined by my sudden inclination to sign up for tuition. Which means I don't even have the chance to attempt to keep to it. And my parents, delighted that I'd finally came to my bloody misleaded sense, hastened to fetch me there at once. And yet I have to beg for them to fetch me to outings. Anyway, my parents already paid and everything wtf. Which means I can't get around this mistake. My parents are absolutely ecstatic though. WHY!?

I don't care. I'm stopping this stupid tuition next month. I'll have to work up a row though. But I swear it'll be worth it. Like they say, if you wanted to get something done, you'd have to do it yourself. I'm not breaking my perfect tuition-free record now. No way. O wait, it's already broken FML.

BTW the mistress or whatever of the tuition center is a total stuck-up bitch.

To-Do Lists

2010-01-04T22:01:00.001+08:00

Before I forget, I have to

1. download HJSplit and finish all the movies in my laptop.
2. recharge my iPod.
3. save all my eBooks into my thumbdrive.
4. save all my photos into cds.
5. reformat my laptop.

on Sunday, which is supposed to be the next time I allow myself to come online. But I have to finish downloading all the movies before the admin removes them from the net!

Anyway, after reformatting my laptop, I'm gonna stick to the essentials. No more updating and whatsis. All I need is an antivirus and I'm good. Actually I think antivirus is already included in the package. O well. But I'll have to download iTunes. And FlashGet. And Codec Pack. And Microsoft Office. And WinRAR. And HJSplit. Wth why does a laptop need so many programs?

And I hereby solemnly swear that I'll stick to my resolution to only come online every Sunday. Serious!

PS. I wanna change my blog and twitter layout.

My Bad

2010-01-04T21:47:00.001+08:00

It's the fourth day of 2010 and I'm already breaking my new year's resolutions FML. I think it's partly my friends' fault though. They were so sure I can't keep to my resolutions. Thanks a lot guys. Anyway, I'm well on my way of becoming a crappy blogger so I'm gonna blog about a lot of random stuff. With enough haha's and hehe's I'm sure I can fill in enough words to pass for a blog post.

...

Suddenly don't feel like constructing a very mixed up blog post anymore. I'd rather do multiple posts. Bet you anything I'll give up later though.

Bad News - Orianthi

2010-01-03T21:55:00.005+08:00

I don't simply post lyrics okay? It reflects my mood so shut up and listen to the song. Am feeling so darn moody right now. Btw I've added another New Year's Resolution: Blog every week. This week doesn't count because I'm just back from Singapore. And because I'm very very moody.

Gimme the bad news
Yea, tell it to me straight
I can take it
I'll start on the countdown
I've got about a minute left for you
Someday, I'm gonna laugh it off until I cry
Someway, I'm going to get on with my life

So gimme the bad news baby
Now don't make me wait
I wanna know that I'm your biggest mistake
Gimme the bad news baby
Now don't turn away
I know the truth no matter what you say
Gimme the bad news, the bad news today

So tell me how it feels when you fake it
You nearly ought to hang around
And even if there's nothing left to do
Yea, go on
Let me see you act like the king of truth
Yea, be strong
I'm gonna leave it up to you

So gimme the bad news baby
Now don't make me wait
I wanna know that I'm your biggest mistake
Gimme the bad news baby
Now don't turn away
I know the truth no matter what you say
Gimme the bad news, the bad news today

Tell it to me loud
That you can't take it
Yea, scream it out loud
We're going down
I wanna stay and shout
Now gimme something to do

So gimme the bad news baby

So gimme the bad news baby
Now don't make me wait
I wanna know that I'm your biggest mistake
Gimme the bad news baby
Now don't turn away
I know the truth no matter what you say
Gimme the bad news, the bad news today
Gimme the bad news today

So gimme the bad news
Yea, tell it to me straight
Gimme the bad news

New Year's Resolutions

2010-01-01T01:18:00.003+08:00

Erm are we supposed to resolute before or after the new year's? Never mind. I know I'm supposed to shower and pack and go to bed hours ago but what the heck.

1. Sleep earlier, wake up earlier. Except for special occasions eg. today.

2. Study harder in order to score better (duh) and to erase my bad records. Owh and finish my homework. Except for crappy useless ones like civic and PJK and ...

3. Not give in to vanity eg. earrings nail polish bracelets. Except for special occasions eg. holidays and outings.

4. Not go out so much except for special occasions eg. friends' birthdays.

5. (Very important!) Do not spend so much money on books. In fact, I won't be buying any more fictions until SPM's over. *heroic* Except unless the books are really really unmissable or are on sale ... No no no. I won't give in to temptation. I swear.

6. Exercise more. Like, you know, jumping ropes and such. Hmm.

7. Clean room more often. It's a form of exercise too right? And it's supposed to cleanse my soul or something ... Ok ok I made that up.

8. Eat healthier. No chocolates and sweet and ... Drink more plain water! Except when, you know, the occasion calls for it, like erm parties and shopping trips and ...

9. Write more! Do you have any idea how lazy I've became? I mean, I'd start out vigorously but lose my enthusiasm after a few paragraphs. Owh and I shouldn't give in to the convenience of broken English. Seriously it's too convenient for its own good.

10. Only come online during the weekends. In fact, I'm gonna limit myself to Sundays only. It's not like I do much online anyway. Except for downloading numerous music albums and movies I can't even finish watching and stalking celebrities and ... Anyway, I'm sure I can survive without them. *bites fingernails*

11. Put more effort into my music! I have 20 pages of Mozart waiting for me! And I'm not arrogant enough to notice that it's my own fault that I failed my violin DipLCM and it was by sheer luck that I passed my piano DipLCM. I won't admit this to my parents though. I may not be arrogant but I'm not stupid either.

12. Not let other people's business bother me. I mean, I shouldn't mind whether a certain bitch hates me. SPM is my priority. Really. The bitch can do whatever she likes and I wouldn't care less. Hmph!

13. Plan my life! Use planners! After all, Ma bought me one while Pa brought me one. They shouldn't be gathering dust. In fact, I should start by writing down my friends and family's birthdays. Shouldn't be too dependent on Daphne. *grimaces* I won't start a diary though. My enthusiasm won't last a week. Trust me. I have enough experiences.

14. Stick to my resolutions and principles! None of my past ones last. But I swear I've grown older and wiser. *smug*

Happy New Year!

2010-01-01T00:31:00.002+08:00

Firstly, to those who received 'Happy new year! I love i guys!' from me, it was supposed to be 'Happy new year! I love u guys!' Sorry.

Favourite new year message:
Kent:
Happy new year!! err wat to say first le ... lets be fren forever, although sometimes we zat lai zat qu but tat is the way we maintain our friendship ... new year came but we got a same old worry, Spm year =) lets do our best and finally hope you healthy, leng lui abit LOL, and also be xing fu la!!!!! happy new year to your family too ^^

My reply:
Aww luv ya

So sincere right!
I made a good choice in selecting besties!

My new year message:
Happy New Year! I love you guys! XOXO

Reasons I'm Blogging Right Now

2009-12-28T14:14:00.003+08:00

1. I'm bored. End of story.
2. My English is getting so darn crappy I think I'm gonna fail my SPM.
3. There's nothing to do!
4. Daphne, Kent and Wilson complain about me posting photos, videos and lyrics only and nothing else.
5. There's no one (I'd like to talk to) online and Daphne is so busy using my Facebook she's not replying my emails. Some friend.
6. Why's it so hard to construct full perfect sentences now?
7. There's this nice song I'm listening to right now but I have no idea what it's called or where it's coming from. Probably from one of the blogs I'm reading.
8. Okay so these are not exactly reasons to blog but I'm well known for my randomness so what the heck.
9. I spent at least RM500 on books this year. Actually I think I spent at least RM700. No wonder I'm broke.
10. Someone get me out of here! I'm gonna be grounded for the whole year next year so ... HELP!!
11. Okay I'm getting a little sick of the aforementioned nice song. It's on repeat.
12. Hey it's actually kinda easy to construct a crappy blog post.
13. Owh found out where it's coming from.
14. How's it possible that some people blog every single day?
15. Hey I think this is my first and only post of December. At least I'm better than people like Ajay or Wilson. They've been abandoning their blogs for months. *gloats*
16. Dammit I'm just not meant to blog about some meaningful stuff. Meaningful stuff are usually boring anyway. *sour grapes*
17. Crap I think I'm supposed to go clean my room right now.
18. Why can't the bloody video load?
19. I suck. My life sucks.
20. If you really read through this ... list, you must be as bored as me. High 5!
21. O dammit. I'm pathetic.

Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason

2009-11-23T23:58:00.001+08:00

I love Helen Fielding's British humour! (at least i think it's British humour) Seriously I can't stop giggling over her works. You know what's ironic? The fact that Bridget is interviewing Colin Firth, who plays Mark Darcy, who happens to be Bridget's boyfriend. What's more? Colin Firth plays Mr Darcy in Pride and Prejudice too, making him both Mr Darcy and Mark Darcy, thus making Colin Firth, Mark Darcy and Mr Darcy the same person! Ok ok I'll shut up now.

Due to insuperable technical difficulties it has been necessary to print Bridget Jones's interview with Colin Firth as a direct transcript of the recording.
BJ: Right. I'm going to start the interview now.
CF: (Slightly hysterical sounding) Good, good.
Very long pause)
BJ: What is your favourite colour?
CF: I'm sorry?
BJ: What is your favourite colour?
CF: Blue.
{Long pause)
BJ: What is your favourite pudding?
CF: Er. Creme brulee.
BJ: You know the oncoming film Fever Pitch by Nick Hornby?
CF: I do know it, yes.
BJ: (Pause. Rustling paper) Do ... Oh. (More rustling paper) Do you think the book of Fever Pitch has spored a confessional gender?
CF: Excuse me?
BJ: Has. Spored. A. Confessional. Gender.
CF: Spored a confessional gender?
BJ: Yes.
CF: Well. Certainly Nick Hornby's style has been very much imitated and I think it's a very appealing, er, gender whether or not he actually, um ... spored it.
BJ: You know in the BBC Pride and Prejudice?
CF: I do know it, yes.
BJ: When you had to dive into the lake?
CF: Yes.
BJ: When they had to do another take, did you have to take the wet shirt off and then put a dry on, on?
CF: Yes, I, I probably did have to, yes. Scusi. Ha vinto. E troppo forte. Si, grazie.
BJ: (Breathing unsteadily) How many takes diving into the lake did you have to do?
CF: (Coughs) Well. The underwater shots were a tank in Ealing Studios.
BJ: Oh no.
CF: I'm afraid so. The, um, moment of being airborne - extremely brief - was a stuntman.
BJ: But it looked like Mr. Darcy.
CF: That was because he had stuck on sideburns and a Mr Darcy outfit on top of a wet suit, which actually made him look like Elvis as you last saw him. He could only do it once for insurance reasons and then he had to be checked for abrasions for about six weeks afterwards. All the other wet-shirt shots were me.
BJ: And did the shirt have to keep being re-wet?
CF: Yes. They'd spray it down. They'd spray it down and then ...
BJ: What with? I'm sorry? What with?
CF: A squirter thing. Look can we ... ?
BJ: Yes, but what I mean is did you ever have to take the shirt off and ... and put another one on?
CF: Yes.
BJ: To be wet again?
CF: Yes.
BJ: (Pause) You know the oncoming film Fever Pitch?
CF: Yes.
BJ: What do you see as the main differences and similarities between the character Paul from Fever Pitch and ... ?
CF: And?
BJ: (Sheepishly) Mr. Darcy.
CF: No one's ever asked me that.
BJ: Haven't they?
CF: No. I think the main differences are ...
BJ: Do you mean it's a really obvious question?
CF: No. I mean no one's ever asked me that.
BJ: Don't people ask you that all the time?
CF: No, no. I can assure you.
BJ: So it's a ...
CF: It's a totally brand new, new-born question, yes.
BJ: Oh goody.
CF: Shall we get on now?
BJ: Yes.
CF: Mr. Darcy's not an Arsenal supporter.
BJ: No.
CF: He's not a schoolteacher.
BJ: No.
CF: He lived nearly two hundred years ago.
BJ: Yes.
CF: Paul in Fever Pitch loves being in a football crowd.
BJ: Yes,
CF: Whereas Mr Darcy can't even tolerate a country dance. Now. Can we talk about something that isn't to do with Mr Darcy?
BJ: Yes,
(Pause. Rustling papers)
BJ: Are you still going out with your girlfriend?
CF: Yes.
BJ: Oh. (Long pause)
CF: Is everything all right?
BJ: (Almost inaudible) Do you think small British movies are the way forward?
CF: I can't hear.
BJ: (Miserably) Do you think small British movies are the way forward?
CF: The way forward to ... (Encouragingly) ... to what?
BJ: (Very long thoughtful pause) The future.
CF: Right. They seem to be getting us along step by step, I think. I quite like small movies but I do also like big movies and it would be nice if we made more of those as well.
BJ: But don't you find it a problem her being Italian and everything?
CF: No.
(Very long silence)
BJ: (Sulkily) Do you think that Mr. Darcy has a political dimension?
CF: I did speculate on what his politics might be, if he had any. And I don't think that they would be very appealing to a reader of the independent. It's that pre-Victorian or Victorian idea of being the rich social benefactor, which would be very Thatcherite probably. I mean the thought of socialism obviously hadn't entered the ...
BJ: No.
CF: ... entered his sphere. And it is clearly stated by way of showing what a good chap he is that he is very nice towards his tenants. But I think that he'd be closer to a sort of Nietzschean figure, a ...
BJ: What is neacher?
CF: You know, the idea of the, er, human being as superman.
BJ: Superman?
CF: Not Superman himself, no. No. (Slight groaning noise) I don't think he wore his underpants over his breeches, no. Look, I'd really like to get off this subject now.
BJ: What will be your next project?
CF: It's called The World of Moss.
BJ: Is it a nature programme?
CF: No. No, no. No. It's um, it's, er, about an eccentric family in the 30s, the father of which owns a moss factory.
BJ: Doesn't moss grow naturally?
CF: Well, no, he makes something called Sphagnum moss, which was used to dress World War One wounds and, er, it's, er, quite a light, er, comic ...
BJ: (Very unconvincingly) It sounds very good.
CF: I very much hope it will be.
BJ: Could I just check something about the shirt?
CF: Yes.
BJ: How many times altogether exactly did you have to take it off and put it on again?
CF: Precisely ... I don't know. Um. Let me see ... there was the bit where I was walking towards Pemberley. That was shot once. One take. Then there was the bit where I give my horse to somebody ... I think there was a change.
BJ: (Brightening) There was a change?
CF: (Strictly) There was. One change.
BJ: So it was mainly just the one wet shirt, though?
CF: The one wet shirt, which they kept respraying, yes. All right?
BJ: Yes. What is your favourite colour?
CF: We've had that.
BJ: Urn. (Paper rustling) Do you think the film Fever Pitch was in reality all about emotional fuckwittage?
CF: Emotional what?
BJ: Fuckwittage. You know: men being mad alcoholic commitment phobics and just being interested in football all the time.
CF: No, I don't really. I think in some ways Paul is much more at case with his emotions and has much more liberty with them than his girlfriend. I think that, in fact, in the final analysis, is what's so appealing about what Nick Hornby's trying to say on his behalf: that, in a rather mundane, everyday world he has found something where you have access to emotional experiences that ...
BJ: Excuse me.
CF: Sighs) Yes?
BJ: Don't you find the language barrier a problem with your girlfriend?
CF: Well, she speaks very good English.
BJ: But don't you think you'd be better off with someone who was English and more your own age?
CF: We seem to be doing all right.
BJ: Humph. (Darkly) So far. Do you ever prefer doing the theatre?
CF: Um. I don't subscribe to the view that the theatre's where the real acting is, that film's not really acting. But I find I do prefer the theatre when I'm doing it, yes.
BJ: But don't you think the theatre's a bit unrealistic and embarrassing and also you have to sit through the acting for hours before you have anything to eat and you can't talk or ...
CF: Unrealistic? Embarrassing and unrealistic?
BJ: Yes.
CF: Do you mean unrealistic in the sense that it...?
BJ: You can tell it isn't real.
CF: That sort of unrealistic, yes. (Slight moaning sound) Um. I think it should't be if it's good. It's much more...It feels more artificial to make a film.
BJ: Does it? I suppose it doesn,t go all the way through, does it?
CF: Well, no. It doesn't. No. Yes. A film doesn't go all the way through. It's shot in little bits and pieces. (Louder groaning noise) Little bits and pieces.
BJ: I see. Do You think Mr. Darcy would have slept with Elizabeth Bennet before the wedding?
CF: Yes, I do think he might have.
BJ: Do You?
CF: Yes. I think it's entirely possible. Yes.
BJ: (Breathlessly) Really?
CF: I think it's possible, yes.
BJ: How would it be Possible?
CF: Don't know if Jane Austen would agree with me on this but-
BJ: We can't know because she's dead.
CF: No, we can't...but I think Andrew Davie's Mr. Darcy would have done.
BJ: Why do you think that, though. Why? Why?
CF: Because I think it was very important to Andrew Davies that Mr Darcy had the most enormous sex drive.
BJ:(Gasps)
CF: And, um ...
BJ: I think that came across really, really well with the acting. I really think it did.
CF: Thank you. At one point Andrew even wrote as a stage direction: "Imagine that Darcy has an erection."
(V. large crashing noise)
BJ: Which bit was that7
CF: It's when Elizabeth's been walking across the country and bumps into him in the grounds in the early stages.
BJ: The bit where she's all muddy?
CF: And dishevelled.
BJ: And sweaty?
CF: Exactly.
BJ: Was that a difficult bit to act?
CF: You mean the erection7
BJ: (Awed whisper) Yes.
CF: Um, well. Andrew also wrote that I don't propose that we should focus on it, and therefore no acting required in that department at least.
BJ: Mmm.
(Long pause)
CF: Yes.
(More pause)
BJ: Mmm.
CF: Is that it, then?
BJ: No. What was it like with your friends when you started being Mr Darcy?
CF: There were a lot of jokes about it: growling, "Mr Darcy" over breakfast and so on. There was a brief period when they had to work quite hard to hide their knowledge of who I really was and ...
BJ: Hide it from who?
CF: Well, from anyone who suspected that perhaps I was like Mr Darcy.
BJ: But do you think you're not like Mr Darcy?
CF: I do think I'm not like Mr Darcy, yes,
BJ: I think you're exactly like Mr Darcy.
CF: In what way?
BJ: You talk the same way as him.
CF: Oh, do I?
BJ: You look exactly like him, and I, oh, oh ...
(protracted crashing noises followed by sounds of struggle)

What My Tuition Teacher Says About Me

2009-11-08T13:31:00.002+08:00

Ying Ci's written work has matured quite a lot this year. She is reliably insightful, has become much better at selecting evidence and examples, and is frequently original. I just wish she had been more regular with handing her work on time. In terms of class discussions, Ying Ci is often prone to wandering off topic, but she makes up for this with vivacity and a willingness to learn from her mistakes.

No surprise here.

De-stressing @ Home Nursing Course

2009-11-08T13:24:00.003+08:00

When Daph Came Over

2009-11-08T12:53:00.007+08:00

:)

2009-10-18T02:06:00.002+08:00

Take the Magic: The Gathering 'What Color Are You?' Quiz.

Ice Cream Seller 10 April 2009

2009-10-18T00:57:00.003+08:00

Sometime in 1980, when I was a final year student in London, I had a very short tele-conversation with my father.
In those days, there were no call cards, Skype or the like and calls were expensive.
He had a very simple message - 'Son, don’t come home'.

Now almost 30 years on, I see where he was coming from.

He advised me to stay on in the UK or if I found the weather not to my liking, told me to go to Australia - even if it meant that I may eventually marry a ‘white girl’ as he put it.
I was 23 and marriage was certainly not on my mind.

He was a pendatang.
A pendatang, however, who secured a scholarship to study in Raffles College (the precursor to the University of Malaya) and served some 30-odd years in various senior teaching positions culminating with the last few years in the Malay College Kuala Kangsar.

Amongst his students were past and present ministers and opposition figures.
I didn’t heed his advice till last year and spent the last 28 years in Malaysia. However, it became increasingly untenable to work here without compromising my values, integrity and conscience.

Why did he advise me such? With hindsight, I saw his foresight. As an educationist, he saw we were heading to be another Ceylon (from where he was sent here when orphaned), Burma, Philippines and in today's scenario, Zimbabwe.

He saw what the outcome would be when we mix education with politics.
He saw that religion would be a divisive factor in years to come (he even encouraged me to learn Jawi as a nine-year-old).

He believed that in a country like this, mixed marriages would help cement society.
He saw in some of our leaders of yesterday that even in their youth, they had unbridled cunning and only needed an opening to exploit that trait.

He saw in some of his students a potential to be PM but said that would never be because they were ‘too smart for Umno's liking’.
He saw that given our racial demographics, religion would be used as a means to ensure the survival of a particular group.

He believed that eventually, the Malays would have a class war amongst themselves.
He said that even amongst the Malays, many of the English-educated would opt to live away from Malaysia.

He told me promotions won’t necessarily be given for competence.
These are usually won in the ‘clubs’ (read: the political parties today) and over a few drinks.
Being a bit of an introvert myself, he encouraged me to join clubs, associations and play sports and travel.

He said honesty doesn't necessarily pay in this world but it is still better to be honest and live with dignity.

Our home was (at different times) home to three delinquent Chinese boys - sent by the juvenile court.
He volunteered to take them in.
Add to that, a few other Indian boys as well.

Though not my mother tongue, I spoke to my parents in Malay till I was about 10.
We took in a Chinese lady injured during the war and she lived with us for about 40 years till she died.
My father referred to her as his mother-in-law.
I thought she was my grandmother even though my mother was not Chinese!

By the late 70s and early 80s, he saw that this scenario would not likely repeat in the years to come.
When he died in 1982, we were pleasantly surprised to see some of his students (by then in their 50s) came from the different
states for his funeral.

One told me that it was my father that made sure he spoke flawless English and another told me how my father would bring the Sixth Formers home from the hostel and used our home for dinner to teach them social graces - including dancing (taught by my mother).
Partners were arranged from the Convent school with the blessings of the headmistress!

Twenty-nine years on, I view his foresight through the same prism and now agonise as to whether I should tell my children the same.
For now, I am allowing my eldest to pursue his tertiary education overseas.

Maybe when he finishes, he may not be as shortsighted as I was.
I pray to God to grant him the wisdom and vision.

Last year, I resigned from my job, returned the company car and driver, said goodbye to my executive package and moved to Australia where I now live with no maid, no driver, no Audi 2.8, no golf, no teh tarik sessions, no bonus, etc.

But I am rediscovering humanity running a humble ice-cream shop.
Sometimes we learn very late.

*credits to Chew Kwang Liang

Couple of Tests

2009-10-09T14:36:00.002+08:00

Emotional Intelligence

Our Emotional Intelligence Test consists of two parts; a self-report portion and an ability portion. The test assesses your capacity to recognize your own emotions and those of others; understand how best to motivate yourself; become close to others; and manage your own feelings and those of others. Emotional intelligence contributes a great deal to your potential in life. A poor emotional intelligence can hold a brilliant individual back from achieving his or her goals, while a good EIQ can help someone who might otherwise struggle achieve success in life.

Snapshot Report Self-report Component
Subscale IQ score = 57
Subscale percentile = 0.26

57 According to your self-report answers, your emotional intelligence is very poor. People who score like you do feel that they have trouble dealing with their own emotions and those of others. They struggle to overcome difficulties in their lives and they are unable to control their moods. It’s hard for them to understand how best to motivate themselves and reach their goals. In addition, they find social interactions quite difficult, for several reasons. They may have trouble allowing themselves to get close with others, finding it difficult to be vulnerable enough to establish intimacy. They also report having trouble offering support to others, likely due to the fact that they do not understand where others are coming from or they lack ideas about how best to help. Perhaps by working on your problem areas, you can become more confident in dealing with your own emotions and those of others.

Personality Type

Based on the Five Factor Model credited to Goldberg, Costa and McRae, this test is designed to provide you with valuable insight into your character, aptitudes, and disposition. It is based on the theory that all human personality traits belong to one of five broad dimensions of personality. Each of the five main personality traits stretches along a continuum. The personality traits tested in the questionnaire are consistent cross-culturally, and are fairly stable over time, beginning in young adulthood. An understanding of your position on each dimension can provide you with valuable insight into your personality.

Snapshot Report Extroversion 30

You are fairly introverted, generally preferring to interact with a few close friends rather than a large group. Introverts tend to be reserved and quiet, and less involved in social interaction than the more outgoing extroverts. While extroverts tend to feel lonely and withdrawn when denied the company of others, introverts relish time alone. They tend to deal with problems on their own rather than seeking out advice from others. Introverts also tend to have a more active imagination and complex inner world.

Yin Yao's 4th Birthday

2009-10-03T21:57:00.012+08:00

I just dumped everything in. Including the amazingly unflattering ones. As usual.

Bandung, Indonesia

2009-09-29T00:08:00.014+08:00

Will be updated.
I know some of them are totally crappy but I haven't the bloody time to sort them out.

My Three Crushes

2009-09-14T00:43:00.002+08:00

David Archuleta
I hung up the phone tonight
Something happened for the first time
Deep inside it was a rush, what a rush

?Cause the possibility
That you would ever feel the same way
About me, just too much, just too much

Why do I keep running from the truth?
All I ever think about is you
You got me hypnotized, so mesmerized
And I just got to know

Do you ever think when you're all alone
All that we can be, where this thing can go?
Am I crazy or falling in love?
Is it really just another crush?

Do you catch a breath when I look at you?
Are you holding back like the way I do?
?Cause I've tried and tried to walk away
But I know this crush ain?t going away-ay-ay
Going away-ay-ay

Has it ever crossed your mind
When we're hanging, spending time girl?
Are we just friends? Is there more? Is there more?

See it's a chance we've gotta take
?Cause I believe that we can make this into
Something that will last, last forever, forever!

Do you ever think when you're all alone
All that we could be, where this thing could go?
Am I crazy or falling in love?
Is it really just another crush?

Do you catch a breath when I look at you?
Are you holding back like the way I do?
?Cause I've tried and tried to walk away
But I know this crush ain?t going away-ay-ay
Going away-ay-ay

Why do I keep running from the truth?
All I ever think about is you
You got me hypnotized, so mesmerized
And I just got to know

Do you ever think when you're all alone
All that we could be, where this thing could go?
Am I crazy or falling in love?
Is it really just another crush?

Do you catch a breath when I look at you?
Are you holding back like the way I do?
?Cause I've tried and tried to walk away
But I know this crush ain?t going away-ay-ay
This crush ain't going away-ay-ay

Going away
Going away-ay-ay
Going away-ay-ay

Mandy Moore
You know everything that I'm afraid of
You do everything I wish I did
Everybody wants you, everybody loves you

I know I should tell you how I feel
I wish everyone would disappear
Everytime you call me, I'm too scared to be me
And I'm too shy to say

Ooh, I got a crush on you
I hope you feel the way that I do
I get a rush
When I'm with you
Ooh, I've got a crush on you
A crush on you

You know (you know), I'm the one that you can talk to
Sometimes (sometimes) you tell me things that I don't want to know
I just want to hold you
You say exactly how you feel about her
I wonder, could you ever think of me that way

I got a crush on you
I hope you feel the way that I do
I get a rush
When I'm with you
Ooh, I've got a crush on you
A crush on you

Ooh, I wish I could tell somebody
But there's no one to talk to, nobody knows
I've got a crush on you
A crush on you, I got a crush

You say everything that no one says
But I feel everything that you're afraid to feel
I will always want you, I will always love you

I've got a crush on you
I hope you feel the way that I do
I get a rush when I'm with you
I got a crush on you, a crush on you
[Repeat]

Selena Gomez
I guess I should've known
It wasn't gonna end okay,
You're such a trouble maker
But I like you just that way.

A bomb tick ticking with me
The one I'd best to blame
Just like I can't tell
And I'm ready to blow
I sat around a lot and thought
About the world without you
And no matter what you think,
Everything is not about you
You think I'm still hung up on you
But baby it's not true

Now look at me
Your memories're turning to dust
There's only one explanation
I wasn't really in love
( I wasn't really in love )
It was just a crush
It was just a crush
Sparks fly when we touch
It was never enough
It was just a crush
It was just a crush
Yeah

You found one the things you need
There's nothing left to lose
The things I never wanna be
I owe it all to you
You just can't help yourself
It's what you do
'Cause this is real life
Not your show

Now look at me
The memories turn to dust
There's only one explanation
I wasn't really in love
( I wasn't really in love )
It was just a crush
It was just a crush
Sparks fly when we touched
It was never enough
It was just a crush
It was just a crush
Yeah,

You'll be fine,
Just find another girl
To kick around
Won't be long
Until they all know what
I figured out

Now look at me
Memories turn to dust
There's only one explanation
I wasn't really in love
( I wasn't really in love )
It was just a crush
( It just was a crush)
Sparks fly when we touched
It was never enough
It was just a crush
It was just a crush ( It was just a crush )
Yeah
( It was just a crush )
It was just a crush
Yeah.

Blind Spending

2009-09-12T00:10:00.006+08:00

All of us have been deluded into thinking that the price one gives to get something reflects the quality of what one gets.
Why do you think people buy freakishly expensive stuff like Armani or Burberry or Prada?
Pride, that's for sure, but why?
They think that as it's so freakishly expensive, it should have freakishly good quality too, and so it's worthy of being worn by one with a high position in the society, in other words satisfying the pride of the said person.

Maybe we, with moderate incomes, aren't proud enough to spend this huge amount of money over a single piece of clothing, but we still are judging things by their price.
Out there, many scorn those roadside stalls which only ask for a tiny amount of money for their labour, instead emptying their savings for a meal in an air-conditioned, at least two-storey high restaurants which sell fancy and prettily arranged or decorated food.
I, for one, always return home hungrier than ever after one of these trips, usually a wedding because we're not dumb enough to get dinner there every night, finding their food too fancy to suit my low-class taste and thinking longingly of normal and what people label as 'dirty and unhygienic' food.
Why the haughty price?
We're just paying for the air-conditioner and the rental and the endless waiters and waitresses and for the stupid atmosphere.
I, personally, would rather prefer a 5 ringgit burger in my room, reading a novel or watching a movie on my laptop.
At least I don't have to dress up and act all fancy and posh for an awful meal in a huge, lavishly decorated building.

People always bug me about my mother's car, which apparently is posh, really posh. *rolls eyes*
Seriously, when I first saw it, I was shocked.
Because it is too perfect?
No.
Because I don't think it's pretty.
As a kid, the only thing I could think of when I saw the car was how its 'nose' is huge and square.
Believe me, I was really surprised when I found out that it's actually one of the most lavish car available.
How the heck was I to know?
So it's expensive huh?
Wow, so I'm supposed to like it or something because of its price?
Maybe I don't talk car, so I am ignorant, but seriously, it's like, just a car you know?
I'd rather it's pretty than expensive.
My mother's old Honda was definitely prettier, in my opinion.

My mother saw a stall selling these really popular, freakishly expensive shoes once, cheaply.
Everyone wanted them, and the seller swore that they were genuine, but Ma's going around asking people whether they're really genuine.
Like, it's cheap, so it's supposed to be fake, so it's not good.
Of course Ma isn't that vain.
She bought them just to satisfy my brothers, who saw some rich kids wearing them and so wanted them.
Frankly I don't like them at all.
Ugly things.
I meant the shoes.
The point is, why should one be suspicious of something's quality just because it doesn't cost hundreds of dollar?
Why should we determine something's quality by its price?
Why do we have to wear some ugly things that make our feet appear twice as large just because they're expensive?

I've seen people buy these expensive, latest model phones, because they think these are the best.
But are they really gonna use them fully?
The functions are what make these phones 'latest', and yet most people I know won't use them.
Some have no idea how to use them, and others don't need them.
Scratch that, we don't need these functions at all.
Most people use their phones for phone calls, photos snapping, and music.
No one will get lost in a mall and require his/her phone to guide him/her back to the main entrance.
I doubt the phone can do that anyway.
Basically, the extra money they paid for these functions they never use are wasted.

If people are buying things because they are to-die-for beautiful, I'd understand.
Actually I'd join their group at once.
But no, they're not judging by beauty, which of course is one huge step towards civilization, if you put it in a way, but now they're judging it materialistically.
It's like, 'OMG! That's expensive! I'm gonna buy it because it'll be good! Everyone will admire me for it!' and promptly whip out their credit cards and sign their names flourishly on the tiny piece of paper, and leave with this huge satisfied smile on their faces, which are being exactly mirrored by the cashier's by the way, and swing their bags around, just begging for attention.
They totally miss the whole idea of purchasing something!
That something needs to have some qualities that attract you!
Okay fine, so you consider its bleeding price a really good, reasonable, unbeatable quality.
Unless you're Paris Hilton, I wish you good luck.

It's not just the prices.
It's quite a common knowledge, or rather, believe that if something's size is bigger, the quality is better in the internet downloads world.
Believe me, that's bullshit.
That's how I end up with lots of big-sized awful-qualitied movies on my laptop, eating up my space and I don't have the heart to get rid of them.

To Grandpa

2009-08-31T02:48:00.003+08:00

Miley Cyrus wrote this song for her grandfather, now I'm dedicating it to my own Grandpa, who left before I really got to know him.

Sha-la-la-la-la, sha-la-la-la-la
You used to call me your angel
Said I was sent straight down from heaven
You'd hold me close in your arms

I loved the way you felt so strong
I never wanted you to leave
I wanted you to stay here holding me

I miss you
I miss your smile
And I still shed a tear
Every once in a while
And even though it's different now
You're still here somehow
My heart won't let you go
And I need you to know
I miss you, sha la la la la
I miss you

You used to call me your dreamer
And now I'm living out my dream
Oh how I wish you could see
Everything that's happening for me
I'm thinking back on the past
It's true that time is flying by too fast

I know you're in a better place, yeah
But I wish that I could see your face, oh
I know you're where you need to be
Even though it's not here with me

I will tear up every time I listen to this song, or even read the lyrics. Among all the songs Miley Cyrus wrote, this is the one which can really connect with me.

Demon in Me

2009-07-16T00:39:00.007+08:00

I am proud and arrogant and full of myself and narcissistic and over confident and narrow minded and cold blooded and hard hearted and a self-proclaimed know-it-all and I need a Thesaurus for more words to describe the bad bad me right now.

It's a well-known fact that while you may be good, you'll never ever be the best.
There's always someone better, someone who knows more, someone who gains more, someone who is a step higher than you.
We've been reminded of it all our lives, but sometimes, when you find someone who's really good and seemingly better than you, jealousy will surge through your veins, and try as you might, it's just one of those things that you can't control.

I've been a victim of such situations throughout the years.
Every time they happen, I try to, usually with remarkable success, suppress the tide of jealousy just threatening to choke me to death.
My brain will just go blank, only the word 'unacceptable' is left with these crazed emotions that make me do things, anything just to make myself feel and hopefully appear better.

This very thing actually happened the first time I met Daphne.
You're not mad or anything right hun?
I remember telling you about this right?

This time, it happened with an old, very old, friend of mine.
Maybe it's because I've never thought of her as some sort of a genius so I was completely unable to control the jealousy.
She's smart, yeah that I know, but not this smart, as in smarter-than-me smart.
Words ran through my brain, one after another, each making no effort to calm me down, but instead concentrated on doing the exact opposite of it.
'unacceptable ... unbelievable ... untrue ...' these were the words that my emotions fed on, leading them to overpower my reason and sense.

Long words danced in front of my eyes, mocking me for my ignorance and clueless state as I tried in vain to grope for an inkling of what the words mean in my indignant brain.
Frantically scrolling down, my eyes scanned rows and rows of alphabets, just praying to catch a single mistake, just one single mistake to satisfy my conviction that this girl is no match for me.
Every time my eyes detected something that has even a shadow of a mistake, I triumphantly pounced on it, only to find that it is, in fact, correct, and even if it's not, it seems to be purposely wrong to create a light jokey atmosphere.
My brain was at a loss to analyze it, struggling to classify it under 'mistake' or 'joke'.
I begrudgingly classified it under the latter as whatever good still left inside me teamed up with my reasonings to withhold my reckless emotions back.

Of course, a possibility came to me.
This girl is just trying to make herself look good after all!
She must be this desperate person who hugs a dictionary or Thesaurus to her side always especially when she writes and looks up the longest words possible to replace a common, everyday word.
She's trying to delude people into thinking that she's actually good, using good words to cover up the real weak her and wearing a mask of primness and properness.
All her works must be heavily edited before being posted up for public view, as she's so vain she can't bear the idea of not being perfect.

Thus consoled, my jaw dropped when I found out that we have much more in common than I thought.
She reads books!
She knows celebrity bloggers and English authors!
No way!
How can she be the same as me!
I'm not associating myself with her, this cruel treat to humanity.
She and I belong to different societies.
It seemed like only I'm allowed to know the better things in life.
She's not entitled to this privilege because she hasn't earned it as I did.

Both Kent and Daph are not heeding my bout of craziness.
Kent just tells me, calmly, that it's of no importance whether she's better or not, which kinda makes sense because I probably won't ever see her again, but what he doesn't understand is that her very existence is taunting me.
Daphne says she's so used to my whinings right now that she's gonna ignore this.

I know I'm just jealous and insecure because I'm not good enough and all these things I've done just reinforced the fact that I'm a sore loser.
I must've known very well that I'm actually not good, but I'm still stubborn enough to lock the knowledge deep within me while I go around with my nose in the air.
And then, I feel threatened when someone who's actually good comes along and works his/her magic with words, those powerful deadly weapons, when in fact I'm just eating my heart out at the fact that they can write perfectly while my own works are littered with ridiculous mistakes.
Instead of learning from them, I choose, instead, to insult them, to convince myself that they're not good, that I'm still the better one.
Silly foolish me.

Back to Booksville

2009-07-14T22:07:00.006+08:00

I'm almost back to the a-book-a-day ritual.
Ever since I've started reading again, books seem to find their way into my hands, and I wanna eat them all up at once.
Recently I'll be lying on my bed the whole day, indulged in a book, abandoning all my duties as a student. (not that I'm exactly responsible before this either.)
That's why I'm not online that often anymore.

I bought/borrowed lots of books with different genres as I'm okay with any book as long as it's not composed of facts and it's in English, and I move from one to another with breathtaking speed, trusting that in moments I'll get used to the new way of writing.
Firstly there's Angels and Demons, and I'd get these freaky dreams about breaking codes and tracking down God-knows-what and wake up feeling amused by myself.
Dan Brown's books make us hold our breaths until the very end, the plot twisting and turning with every turn of the page.
You really can't stop.
Brown allows us no resting point.
After this book, I read Deception Point and Digital Fortress, having finished Da Vinci Code while on vacation in Sabah.

Then, I moved on to Horse Whisperer.
It started with a tragedy, and my heart went out for the little girl inside the story who was crippled and had to endure the death of her best friend and her friend's horse while her own horse has developed a kind of emotional or mental problem after almost killed by trying to save her.
It takes place in a nature-nurtured place, and you'll get these long beautiful descriptions about the wild.
Besides that, it daringly challenges the happy-ever-after ending plot, twining scandals and deaths in it, but successfully wrings our hearts with the emotions of the characters.
I was sniffing and choking back sobs throughout the whole story.

How Sarah Got Her Groove Back is pure torture.
The psychotic author simply lurves long sentences, and when I say long, I mean long.
A sentence can occupy half the page, with no commas whatsoever in between.
When you reach the end of the sentence, you've already forgotten the beginning, and you probably can't take in anything from the sentence because everything is jumbled together with no grace.
After finishing the book, I'm able to write longer sentences, just going on and on and on until my ideas run out.
Besides that, this book is downright scandalous and inappropriate for young brains as it garbles on the older-women-younger-men concept.
It obsesses with colour too, but unlike what you might expect from this statement, it isn't afraid to show its preferences of being black, no offense intended.

I had reality check reading Everyone Worth Knowing as it's the most modern book among all I've recently read.
Like Devil Wears Prada, Lauren Weisberger gives us another girl who's being brought unexpectedly into the 'In' crowd and after a while, resents it.
And like Devil Wears Prada, I find this book highly unrealistic.
I mean, who the heck won't want to party and get glamorous clothes and get fame while being her boss's favourite employee?
Weisberger is too intent on the moral thing, while we, as readers, wonder over why the heck would someone give up what everyone else wants.
But still, it's light and frivolous and funny, and we don't have to crack our heads pondering over anything except the names of the never ending celebrities mentioned in the book.

Now I'm reading Emma and the Outlaw.
Yes it's a romance, as can be taken from the title, but no, there's no nude man adorning the cover, just a horse running free and wild against a lovely colourful sky.
Its very prologue has made me cry, as the author explores the emotions of a girl being seperated from her family in a heartfelt way.
And then, the society is revealed, and I was completely ecstatic to find that the character is a prim and proper librarian who wears long skirts. (which means old clothing)
Don't you just adore old stories?
The way they talk, the way they dress ...
And no one-night-stand, thank you.
A teacher is called a schoolmadam, and everyone wants to be that.
The train is their main way of communicating with the outside world.
There're lakes and parks and farms.
Just reading an old story makes you feel so relaxed and contented inside.
Remember, Anne of Green Gables is my all-time favourite.
But then the book isn't exactly innocent either.
Go figure.
After all, it is a romance.

I feel like I've found my identity back after making up my mind to read again.
I've been reading since I was really young, and my long break from books had scared me more than I could admit.
Anyway, words are the most powerful weapon in the world.
They can bring feelings and sensations in you even a real person can't bring.
They can influence you into doing something, they can turn you into someone else.

The best books are the ones which make one cries.
Maybe it's because I love crying.
Maybe it's because I need a reason to cry.
Maybe it's because the idea of someone else who's also in pain consoles me in my own pain.
Maybe it's because the very story stirs up my own sorrow within me and turns them into tears.
Maybe it's because I wanna know that I'm still capable of feeling for other people, I'm still humane enough to be touched.

Just so you know, I always make sure that my books are properly wrapped and taken care of.
It's a crime to torture books, for example bending their spines beyond their limits.
How will you feel if someone did that to you huh?
Please don't take advantage of the vulnerable beings' helplessness and inability to defend itself.

O and before I collapse out of pure exhaustion, I would like to proudly announce that my beloved books have found their way back to my eager embrace and I have no intention of letting them go anytime soon.
And sorry for the jumble, I can barely spell my own name right now.

Blissfully Injured

2009-07-11T01:05:00.004+08:00

I've been kinda a clumsy person all my life.
My mother is so used to my hurting myself that whenever I show her some new wounds, she'll dismiss them with, 'Duno you la. No need to show me. So old already still don't know how to take care of yourself,'
My father usually just laughs and my siblings will crowd around me, curious and trying to poke my wounds.

Even though cuts and bruises are already a part of my daily life, I must say that two injuries in a row is kinda a record, even to me.
Actually I've gotten more than that, but these two injuries are so unexpected.
O well, all injuries are unexpected.
The point is, I'm really surprised and amused by my injuries and I've been showing them off, not because I want pity or anything, I'm not that much of a girl, but they seem so funny somehow.

Last night, I was washing my clothes while cursing innerly as it was clear that my hands were getting rougher even as I worked.
And I used to have such proud soft palms!
I was squatting down as the floor was wet from my previous shower, and when I got up, wringing the water out of my clothes, I felt a sharp pain on my forehead.
Automatically I went, 'Ow!' and glared at the offensive tap protruding from the wall.
Rubbing my head while cursing openly this time, I checked my head carefully but found no bruise, but my head hurt a lot, and it's still hurting as I type.

This morning, we were doing electrolysis in Chemistry.
After proudly completing the experiment with oxygen air bubbles and copper atoms sticking to the carbon electrodes, the teacher urged us to proceed to the experiment with copper electrodes.
All I needed to do was to clean the electrodes with sandpaper.
The offending electrode's end broke off while I was brushing it vigorously with sandpaper (all sorts of unnameable stuff was sticking to it) so I calmly threw the broken part away and continued the struggle.
After seeing no result after a while, I complained to May Chi who was in front of me then, 'How long do I have to do this!?'
Pn Chiang was beside me that time and she happened to hear this so she went, 'Aiyo, so xiao jie (girly) one,'

Only moments after this, the copper sliced through my palm and blood gushed out from the 1cm long opening.
Handing, or rather throwing, the copper to Jun Sue, I checked out the throbbing wound.
Pn Chiang was still near me so she saw everything and she went, 'So xiao jie!' again and told me to follow her to the room just off the lab which name I forgot.
There she gave me antiseptic while laughing at the absurdity of me slicing my hand with innocent copper.
I thanked her and went back, checking out my hand with more curiosity than pain.
You learned to bear pain after the routine of getting hurt every few days was carried out for almost 16 years.

Every time blood came out I mixed up the antiseptic with it or just put my palm on my pinafore so lines of blood were printed on it.
Jun Sue wouldn't let me clean up the experiment because she reckoned that my hand was in pain so I informed her that I wasn't disabled yet.
Before leaving the lab, Pn Chiang asked me whether I was okay and I told her that I was because the blood had stopped flowing.
Then she laughed again.
I suppose it was really funny but whenever I show people my wound they'll stare at me and go, 'What!?'
Ridiculous as the idea seems, I really did hurt myself with copper, people, and I suppose I'm the first one to ever do it.
I made history o yeah!
I told my siblings that I hurt myself brewing magic potion and they thought it was awesome though.

I'm really proud over my ability to recover speedily though.
Before Chemistry was over my wound had already closed though after that I forgot about the wound so I banged my hand heartily on the hand bar so it opened and throbbed again.
I just mopped the floor so I suppose it's kinda hurting now (actually it hurts like hell) because of the stupid mop and detergent. (but my room smells so fresh now!)
But seriously, I recover fast.
Had lots of practice what.

Room Hygiene Awareness

2009-07-07T23:06:00.002+08:00

My body is itching all over.
My right wrist is already sporting blood from the extreme scratching I've been doing since half an hour ago.
Angry patches of pink can be seen on my neck, belly and back.
And also the afore-mentioned wrist.

Usually this situation happens when my annoyingly sensitive skin can't accept the new type of body shampoo I'm using.
Or, some insects have been feasting on the supposedly sweet blood of mine, which is weird as I'm sure my blood tastes like iron and if they wanna taste iron they could've found one anywhere on the street.
Or, I've been slacking so much my bedsheets are long-overdue for a journey to the washing machine.

I suppose I have been slacking quite a lot.
All my schoolbooks have been dumped into a corner of my table. (Of course I would rather commit suicide than do that to my beloved novels.)
All my bags, and my violin, are thrown into the corner of my room on a couch-like cushion thing.
Empty water bottles are on my bookcase, along with an empty packet of gingerbread men, an empty container and a container full of chocolates and chocolate wrappers.
The tray thingy on my desk is filled with blissful nothings such as the clay snowman I made in Joelyn's house when I went over to celebrate her birthday for her which now lies in three different parts.
I suppose I should get rid of the bottle of Chinese ink from last year too.
My drawers are empty because I emptied them weeks ago and dumped all my stuff on my sister's desk and forgot all about them.
My clothes have been thrown into different compartments of my wardrobe and that's all as I haven't found the time to fold them since last week.

But my bed is the problem.
I've been sick on it last week, then my distant relatives whom I barely know slept on it for the weekend when they came over for my father's cousin's wedding, and then I was kinda sick on it again.
Basically it is now filled with germs.
Not to mention, of course, that I online on it, read on it and eat on it.
I think I saw a few insects crawling around just now ... *shudders*
And my freshly-laundered clothes are in a heap on it!

That's it.
I've showered even though it's already kinda late and it's raining and I wanna sleep in a few minutes.
I'm gonna strip my bed off.
Tonight.
Actually right now.
Yeah, now.

Useless Day, Useless Workshop

2009-07-07T19:37:00.003+08:00

Nothing went as expected.
That is actually quite an understatement.
At the end of the day, I am left an exhausted person, none the better after the so-called creative writing workshop, and I've knowingly embarrassed myself and my school but feel no remorse over it.
Seriously my teachers have better not be reading this.

First sign of trouble - oversleeping.
Of all the days to oversleep, I chose today.
I was really tired after tuition last night so maybe that's why I woke up, confused by the alarms, at the early hours, and proceeded to turn the damned things off and fall right back onto my bed and was dead to the world again in mere seconds.
My biological alarm clock finally snapped to life at almost 7.
Needless to say, I was the last one among the eight to arrive at school.
I skipped breakfast for the second day in the row for this so don't complain.

For transport, we divided into groups of four and I was in Miss Norvita's car.
Wen Xin made me sit in the middle because of my short legs (hmph!) and this put me at a great disadvantage which will be explained later.
We kinda talked to Miss Norvita for a while but after that, it was dead silence.
If I was sitting somewhere where I could lean my head against something, I would've been sleeping like a baby, but as I was wedged between Wen Xin and Himmat, I didn't have the much-yearned-for privilege.
So, basically I've been playing with my fingers for the 30 minutes' ride.
Don't ask me how I play with them.
It's an unconsciously-just-doing-so thing.

At the reception or whatever it's called (I never find it necessary to pay attention to things like this), we were required to put giant ugly white stickers, like the ones I use for school when I'm too broke for correction tape only they're like ants compared to the house-sized ones there, on our uniforms after writing our names on it with black markers.
They're already potentially hideous, and my handwriting had to worsen mine further.
This really makes me overlook our school's colour-blindness (red and yellow are not meant to be together, it's against their nature) to appreciate the narrow square fitted snugly on my pinafore.
But I still hate the pinafore.

I have no comment about the hall-like place where we were given the 'lessons'.
Met an ex-schoolmate there.
Went, 'You know, you kinda look familiar,' when everyone else had already recognized her.
Well that's classical me.

The lesson, on the other hand, was a different story.
At the very beginning, it pushed my buttons by introducing the new paper of New Strait Times.
Seriously if I wanted commercial, I'd, I don't know, stare at every single one of it on the tv.
Then, after all the slideshows and everything intended on gaining our interest so that we'll give out our money (I don't know about the others but that didn't work with me), the woman annoyed me further by introducing herself as a jug and a dish.
After that, she angered me by saying that we'll be allowed to say whatever we want in that damned paper of hers.
'No boundaries,' that's what she used, which is total bullshit, because there's no such thing as no boundaries.
Let's see if she'll still say 'No boundaries,' after I send in an article filled with the lovely f word.

We were spontaneously wanted to write something, anything, out on a piece of paper.
I promptly attacked the 'no boundaries' thing duh.
After a certain period of time, random works were chosen to be presented by the woman.
Himmat the bullshitter wrote one about how lovely it all had been which was actually lucky because his was chosen and not mine.

We were divided into groups according to the months we were born in, which was really unfair as Wilson, Zach, Wen Xin and Shi Ning were all born in January.
Being the lone August baby in the group, I ended up in a group of strangers, and to make matters worse, our table was directly beside the vent thing, and within minutes I've lost the feeling of my legs.
There's a guy named Dante in my group and I lost no time telling him that he went through hell then purgatory and finally heaven in a book.
Way to break the ice.
Our first activity was to conjure up a mind map about our five senses as subtopics and to write 5 sentences about an orange after they made us feel the stupid fruit with our eyes closed.
We named ourselves 'The Murderous 5' after the orange has been savaged by us.
We spent too much time pondering on our sentences so when the time was up, I just grabbed the paper and started writing the remaining 3 sentences myself.
Seriously if I'd been working on it from the beginning it would've been better.
I'm a non-believer of group work.
We all have different styles and when we try to combine them we create a disaster.

It was the breakfast break which I so desperately needed after that.
Roti Canai and coffee or tea.
Horrible.
Roti Canai was the ready-made type and I wished I had poured more curry on it because seriously how else was I supposed to swallow down the rubbery slice of a ... thing?
Coffee is caffeine, and I love caffeine, so I was really happy with that.
See, Pa, if coffee isn't suitable for teens they wouldn't have served it right?
But then the roti canai wasn't even meant for normal human beings with a limited digesting ability so I suppose you can't really take what they do into account.

After lunch, back in the hall-y place, apparently JugDish the ex-Teacher Lecturer thought that doing 'Head Shoulders Knees and Toes' is a suitable dance for us rubber-stuffed souls.
'Something that involves your senses,' I swear that was what JugDish said.
Then, she read out a small part of every group's work which I barely listened because I'm not interested in an orange and therefore not interested in what people have to say about it as along as they don't make me eat it when I don't want to.
The group names were the fun part.
Zach and Wen Xin's group was called 'The Retarded Stickers' which I'm sure was a tribute to the now crumpled up and dumped somewhere stickers we had unwillingly put on as nametags.
Anyway, she praised every single one of it so obviously she wasn't being sincere so why bother even listening to her lies?

And then, hell broke lose.
We were gently and lovingly indirectly informed that this workshop has nothing whatsoever to do with creative writing but instead is about journalism which is another way to drag us into the paper.
We were shown slideshows again about picture captionings and news captionings which frankly I had no idea because I started getting distracted by Daphne's messages.
Of course, after that we were required to write one of each with two pictures from last Thursday's New Strait Times they provided for each group.
This time I let the others do all the work as I wasn't sure whether they were too pleased over the fact that I manipulated the orange thing.
I didn't know what to do and honestly had no interest in whatever there was to do anyway.
Anyway, I was texting Daphne all along and was driven by desperation to ask them to turn off the stupid vents before I had to amputate my feet.
In the end I contributed a single sentence for one of the articles and it was heavily edited by others which I didn't blame them because my mind had kinda wandered elsewhere.

For lunch we had this coloured or something rice and a stingy piece of curry chicken and a few slices of fruits.
I didn't take the ridiculously sweetened syrup as I've long given up trying to get the stuff down and can never understand why they always serve it.
It was God-awful.
I was complaining about it all along and was grateful for taking only a pinch of the rice as my instincts told me that it wouldn't be good.
Thank God honeydew saved me from the utter destruction of my taste buds.
The others thought it was nice, though, so I suppose it was my problem.
The good thing is, the Chinese from my group bonded a little through complaining about this lunch.

After that, we, the Kepong-ians, sorta got together to talk about cute guys and girls and such.
Zach the Girl Magnet didn't join us as he was too busy having fun with his new friends.
I spotted a Jia Zheng look-alike which is actually cute.
But he disappeared from my brain when I saw a totally cute European drinking near the doorway.
I went ecstatic as could be expected and even went to the bathroom when I didn't need to just to pass him and saw the side of his face and went totally crazy.

He's so cute.
Huge eyes, round cheeks and brown luscious wavy hair with just the right length and style. *sigh*
His fit body was clad in a dark attire which made him look older than 14. (some girls overheard him talking to a grown-up)
He has that intense serious look when he's doing something which makes me totally faint.
I heard him saying, 'I really can't sing,' with a half-chuckle which made me air-headed but that was later.

Anyway, I went into the bathroom, then totally freaked out when I came out because he was no where in sight.
None of my friends noticed where he went.
So after running around asking people for a bit, I settled into my chair to continue texting Daphne while the News-Pictures-Captions thingies were being presented,
Of course, most of the works were being told as a 'very good job'.
And then, the European came in, and with everyone's eyes discreetly, and not too discreetly staring at him, he settled at the very back.
I kinda lost a sense of time so at one point the JugDish woman introduced him and said that we were very lucky because he, who's a German called Devan or Devon or something, was joining us and for once I actually agreed whole heartedly with her.
The bummer is, he was in Group 9 instead of my Group 8 but at least he got to sit in a row behind me.

Of course I lost all attempts, if they even existed in the first place, to get along with the lesson.
I would've walked to the seat right in front of him if it wasn't for the fact that everyone would notice.
I would sneak a look at him, squeal soundlessly, turned back thinking about him and frantically texting Daphne , then sneak a look at him then hyperventilate again.
We were asked to listen to and sing David Cook or David Someone's Time of My Life.
I remember the song being really nice but seriously I have no idea how the song went because I just kept saying, 'This is the time of my life all right,' and trying to stare at him without being too obvious.
When he said, 'I really couldn't sing,', I wasn't the only one who went crazy.

The workshop moved on to something about reviews I think as I can't be sure because of the huge hot cute adorable real-life distraction right under the same roof.
A girl sitting two places from me started passing notes to me after I told her that I want the seat next to her as it was right in front of Devon.
She dared me to flirt with him and I told her that that was exactly the whole point.
At one point, I turned and he was gone and I sorta turned around looking for him everywhere in the room but thank God he came back after a while.
And then, he disappeared again, and I was really upset because his stuff was gone and now I knew that he probably wouldn't come back again.

Finally I faked a trip to the bathroom with a girl (she claimed she came to see what I'll do) and there he was, outside, sitting there with some other people and I didn't dare to walk up and introduce myself and get his picture like I meant to because he was busy.
After the fake trip, we met Wen Xin outside the bathrooms.
On the way back, we noticed that the guy sitting at the table with Devon was actually our dear Himmat being interviewed so of course we walked over to fool around for a while I mean who wouldn't?
After some time, I just went, 'Hi I'm Ying Ci. Can I take a picture with you?' and he sorta nodded or something.
I love my guts, seriously, and so Wen Xin helped me take the precious picture but I swear the picture doesn't do him justice.
It didn't capture the whole attraction of him.
Seriously.
But I didn't dare to ask for another.

I went back to the lesson and within minutes my phone was being passed around and I was being patted on the back for being so freaking daring.
Yeah I know I'm awesome.
Later it was all the wrapping-up things like souvenir giving and comments collecting and such.
I don't know why the heck did they bother to collect reviews from us as obviously we wouldn't write our true thoughts down (not with our names being written clearly on top) so why did they wanna be fed by lies?
Our group was the last one to be called out for the prize slash souvenir giving thing, but I prefer ours, pens, more than the others', highlights and files.
At least you can actually use the pen.
They asked us if we would like to be one of the reporters of the paper.
Only Wilson signed up for it, and even he canceled it when they were calling the sign-ups out for photographing.

We grabbed the Malay cakes thingies after it ended and just went back to school.
I ranted alot about the German and the stupidity of this workshop and how I wanted to go BRATS to Miss Norvita, then harassed Himmat for being interviewed, then I just fell silence.
The cakes weren't that bad.
At least I could keep them down.

The problems didn't stop when we reached school.
I called my house but instead reached the other house and made a fool of myself.
Seriously TMnet is so terrible to us users.
So I called my cousin and found out that Ma wasn't home.
After making Wilson fetch me back and everything, we saw Ma right after we left school so Wilson's father stopped the car and I walked to Ma's which was directly behind.
I suppose the scene would've been hilarious if I was an on-looker.

Parliament (outside it anyway)

2009-06-25T14:28:00.003+08:00

Holidays

2009-06-12T16:22:00.003+08:00

Everyone seems to be doing something.
Tuition .. Revision .. Camps .. Curriculum ..
Me?
I just pass through each and every single day in a blur.
I haven't gained anything this holiday.

I went Genting for 2 days.
Then went out with friends to Jusco for two.
Out to 1U with family for .. one.
Counting today, there's been 14 days.
So what have I been doing for the other 9 days?

Let's see ...
I've finished The Suite Life on Deck and Hannah Montana season 3.
Almost finishing season 2.
Read 230 pages of Angels and Demons (which is totally awesome)
And practiced, not perfected, 3 piano songs.

What became of the schedule I've so grandly introduced?
Let's just say it's not working.
Not at all.

Only 2 more days left.
I'm so screwed.

Photos!

2009-06-06T18:10:00.012+08:00

I've sorted them out.
Finally.
But don't expect me to say anything much kay?

After choral speaking competition, on the way back to Hari Anugerah.
With Daph.

While waiting to get money for our hardwork.
Daph and Faiz (?).

While taking care of my siblings and finding nothing better to do.
Kai, En and me.

In Genting's Karaoke, yelling our lungs out and jumping on the couch like maniacs.
With cousins.

In Genting's Themepark.
Apparently cuz was staring at me because she thought I had fainted when I stopped screaming.
With cousins.

In Jusco's KFC.
With Veno.
Met Zach, Lucian, Lee and Abby there btw.

Before watching Terminator, inside the cinema's bathroom.
With Veno, still.
Met Ong Yee Seong, Lim Yong Quan and Lai Choon Fai when we were queuing up for tickets.

After walking under the insanely hot sun, in Ritma's artroom, both of us sweating uncomfortably.
With Veno and our piano teacher who got married last year and, as can be seen in the picture, got pregnant a month later.

You don't need a conclusion for these, do you?

Next Week's Daily Schedule

2009-06-05T15:00:00.003+08:00

I've wasted a week away, I'm gonna waste another ... more systematically, you know, just so I can stuff all crap into one day, instead of just concentrating on just one crap.
And I'm totally talking crap right now.

Anyway, I've been thinking.
Let's put away the feeling (not fact) that I'll probably dump this schedule also, and take a look at this:

8am - Wake up blah blah blah.
9am - Practice my music.
1pm - Lunch whatsoever.
2pm - Finish 6 months' worth of homework. I think my teachers are on the verge of murdering me.
5pm - Clean room thoroughly. My beloved teddy is kinda gathering dust.
6pm - Shower, dinner, the usual.
7pm - Read fictions! They're piling up in my bookcase! I just can't not buy a book. That's probably why I'm so broke.
10pm - Movies, internet, or something else.
12pm - Bedtime.

Of course, for this to run smoothly, there're a few conditions -
1. I must be alone.
2. No nagging whatsoever which will make me flare up in seconds.

Those weren't much, were they?

Spontaneously Genting

2009-05-31T21:24:00.005+08:00

Was in Genting for 2 days,
Which, by the way, proves that the 'Yci' in Pei Sha's blog is a fake.
Seriously, can people with the same names stop turning up around me at the same time?
My heart has its limits.

Anyway, back to the point.
I went Genting with my 2 aunts and 4 cousins right after the Division meeting on Saturday morning.
Talking about that, can someone donate 40 bucks to St. John before next Saturday's 12pm?
Remember, give the money to me.

I should stop getting distracted.
Back to the Genting thing.
We wanted to go straight up to the theme park,
But somehow the car broke down because of ...
Don't know la.
Just remember steam and water.
Hmm.

Anyway, we ended up staying overnight there.
I have no patience to blog such a long post, so I'll separate each place into different posts.
I need photos anyway.
O crap.
Just remembered I didn't take the photos from my cousin's handphone.

New Layout!

2009-05-29T22:51:00.004+08:00

I've changed my layout again!
Maybe it's because I've been seeing people changing their layout,
The urge to follow suit was too strong to be missed,
So here I am!

I love this little puppy!
Wanna know the name of this layout?
'Aww The Little Puppy'
Serious!

Don't you just wanna grab the little pup and bury your face into its fur?
Don't you just wanna throw it around, laughing? (not in the abusive way la)
Don't you just wanna make this cute thing yours?

All in all,
I'm pretty pleased with this new layout.
Now a random question:
Do I look 18?
If not, then how can I look 18?

Tagged by Ajay, Who Spelt My Name Wrongly

2009-05-29T20:21:00.006+08:00

It's harder than it looks! Copy to your own note, erase my answers, enter yours, and tag ten people. Use the first letter of your name to answer each of the following questions. They have to be real - nothing made up! If the person before you had the same first initial, you must use different answers. You cannot use any word twice and you can't use your name for the boy/girl name question.

1. What is your name : Ying Ci
2. A four Letter Word : Yo-yo
3. A boy's Name : Yong??
4. A girl's Name : Yvonne
5. An occupation : Yoga Instructor
6. A color : Yellow
7. Something you'll wear : Youthful Sundress -_-
9. A food : Yogurt
10. Something found in the bathroom: Yeast Shampoo? Is there such a thing?
11. A place : Yemen (somewhere on the globe la, duno where)
12. A reason for being late: Yesterday no one told me anything!
13. Something you'd shout : Yay!
14. A movie title: Young Sherlock Holmes
15. Something you drink: Yakult
16. A musical group : Ying Yang Twins (I have no idea who they are)
17. An animal : Yak
18. A street name : York Street
19. A type of car : Yarris (apparently it's something from Toyota)
20. The title of a song : You Belong With Me

Tag: Pei Sha, Iswaran, Wilson, Hong Liang, Hanushaa, Chew, Hwee Loo, Zach, Steph, Sanjeetha

Spring Cleaning

2009-05-28T15:17:00.003+08:00

Is it spring now?
Actually I have no idea.
I mean, I'm a Malaysian kay?

Anyway, I've been spring-cleaning my blog.
Deleted a bunch of posts.
Daph would be proud of me.

I've deleted most lyrics-posts.
Okay, I've deleted all lyrics-posts.
And there goes those youtube-posts too.
Celebrities-posts also gone.

But,
I've kept all my emo posts.
Sorry guys.
As my friends, you have to deal with my emo-ness kay?

Letter. Or E-mail. Whichever.

2009-05-28T14:24:00.004+08:00

Hi, I'm Sam

Congratz.. You have been chosen to join the BRATS Journalist Workshop in Ipoh this coming June 10 to June 13

The details are in attachment

If you are interested, please inform me (Sam - 016-974616) or other STAR Marketing team as soon as possible (before 6 June).

Please also include a cheque payment of RM120 to Star Publication (M) Berhad with the forms (in attachment) and post to Menara Star (address in the attachment)

Hope to see u all in Ipoh

Thanks

Regards

Sam
016-9746316

***********************************************

Dear Sam,

I'm very happy and glad that I've been chosen. I would very much like to go.

But, herein the problem lies.

Do you know the parents' permission slip inside the attachment?
Is it possible for me to go without it?

You see, I will go if I'm left to my own decisions.
But, as a 16-year-old teenager who has a brain of her own, I have been wrongly thought of as a 6-year-old.
Therefore, I'm supposedly incapable of making decisions and going to a camp without getting into a huge trouble that will eventually end up as me being arrested or mugged.

Beside that, my eagerness to gain some additional nonacademic knowledge has been dismissed, as if I'm a kid intent on looking for trouble just to go against her parents' will.
I'm really interested in journalism.
Seriously I am.
But as there are various - ahhem! - obstacles in my path, I'm afraid I must be deprived of this privilege.

I'm hoping that a miracle will happen before 6 June and I can join you there.
Till then, I'm gonna go through the process of arguing, tearing and so on and so forth everyday.

Yours sincerely,
Ng Ying Ci

My Bro and I

2009-05-27T13:14:00.002+08:00

We both get into trouble everyday.
We both get scoldings every 5 seconds.
We both have endless stream of excuses, regardless of whether the excuses are applicable to the situation.
We both talk non-stop.
We both are annoying.
We both do extreme stuff just because others told us not to.
We both crave for sweet stuff.
We both can make a mess in 10 seconds.
We both let out our anger on other people.
We both do weird stuff just to annoy other people.

Blonds = Beauties?

2009-05-26T23:38:00.003+08:00

The world is so stereotypical.
Why are blonds always considered beauties?
Maybe, living in an Asian country, you might not notice it, but seriously, just watch out for Europeans movies and books and whatever, those so-called beauties are always blonds.
I'll just list out a few examples here.

Let's just start from a movie everyone's familiar with.
Hannah Montana.
So, the plot is a teenager living a double life.
It's like she's a so-so in school, but after she has on a blond wig, she's transformed into a beautiful pop star.
I mean, she still has a same face, doesn't she?
So why is she so different after she changes from a brunette to a blond?
Why has everyone, including her friends, failed to link the two of them together?

Now a book.
Little Black Dress - Hysterically Blond.
A girl consumed some experimental pills that made her lose weight and turned her blond.
It's like after she's blond, she got accepted into a higher society.
She gets the man, gets a rise, gets everything.
People started noticing her after her hair has been bleached.
I mean, just because she's blond, it doesn't mean she is more capable of handling stuff so she deserves to get a promotion.
It's not like she has acquired a new-found talent through the process of changing into a blond that made her attract attention.
So why is she suddenly the popular one?
Why is she suddenly changed?

Even in Twilight, Rosaline is blond right?
Why can't Stephenie Meyer talk about some, let's say, redhead instead?
Barbie is also the blond one.
Who knows the name of her brunette friend?
Hilary Duff once said in an interview:
'I find that guys treat me more preciously when I'm blond,'
See?
Blond = Glass
Other colour = Rubber

Sick. And Not So Sick.

2009-05-25T20:12:00.003+08:00

Felt like dying a few hours ago, but I'm up and about now!
Gonna attempt to blog about what happened, but I'm so unsure.
I mean, how do you even begin a story?
Ya, I love writing crappy stories, but when it comes to writing about my life, I'm lost.
I can write emo posts, I can blog about something totally random, but this??
I suppose I'll never know unless I try.
Hey, I just wasted 7 sentences beating around the bushes!

Anyway, I was perfectly fine when I came back from school.
Fine enough to persuade Kent to watch Hannah Montana the Movie with me anyway. (By the way, I don't like Miley Cyrus/ Miley Steward/ Hannah Montana kay? I just can't miss out a chance to look at Lucas Till.)
After lazing around, I fulfilled my responsibility as a daughter and went to look after/ nap with my siblings, persuading my ma to turn on the aircond as I was sweating 5 seconds into the room.
Believe me, I regretted doing that.

I woke up with a heavy head and ice-cold limbs.
After shooing my bro to my ma, I crawled, shivering to my room, burying myself in my blanket and practically turning off the damned fan.
But I soon realised that these aren't gonna help me much.
So, I staggered to my bathroom, turning on the hot water, trying to make the shivering stop.
The exaggerated chattering of my teeth even made me wonder if I'm having fits.
The hot jet of water warmed my body, yeah, but I was still shaking like mad.
Finally, I couldn't stand standing anymore.
I settled down in the corner of the stall, directing the jet to the corner also, and tried to clamp my teeth hard enough to stop the chattering.
When my limbs felt like they were gonna part from my body, I raised myself up to turn off the shower, literally crawled out and picked up a random shirt from the floor, which happened to be my white uniform.
Gross, I know, but I was past caring.

After tossing and wrapping my blanket around me for a few minutes, I finally gave in and opened my door wide enough to ask my ma for help.
She immediately fell to the conclusion that I was sick, and she and grandma took over.
I felt like a dummy.
They freaked out over the state of my wet hair, so grandma helped me dry it with my hairdryer.
Ma gave me Panadol, but my hands were shaking so badly I took a relatively long time to finish the cup as I couldn't hold it firmly to my lips.
They helped me get into bed, made me change my clothes and left me to sleep.
Grandma checked on me frequently, I was having trouble falling into a deep sleep so I always knew.

Sleep was horrible.
My bed felt hot. My room felt hot. I myself was hot.
But sleep came easily for a heavy head.
I kept waking up, then fell right to sleep again, only getting up once for a sip of water, and that movement alone was pure torture.
What I was most grateful about, though, was the fact that my body had stopped shivering.
After hours of repeating the same process over and over again, my temperature finally dropped, and I spent time staring into my darkening room and wondering if I should get up to change my sweaty clothes and make the fan go faster just so my room wouldn't be so stuffy.

Though I was quite convinced that I've already recovered, Ma insisted on bringing me to the doctor.
My aching head made me consented.
The doctor was dismissive, just telling that I have fever and shouldn't eat oily food blah blah blah, but Ma was convinced that it was because of my irregular lifestyle that made me end up like this.
Personally, I think it was because I showered three times at 12am, 3.30am and 6.30am respectively last night just so I could cramp physics and chemistry into my brain.
But that was also irregular lifestyle so ...

Anyway, I think I'm okay now.
But since I've already asked for 2 days of medical leave, I'm gonna use them to skip Biology, Add Maths and BM.
Ma told me not to study first as 'exam isn't that important anyway.'
Let's hope that she'll still stay firm to that believe when she sees my results.

100 Truths

2009-05-21T22:25:00.002+08:00

Found this in some random blog.
Was feeling lazy so decided to try it out.

001. Real Name: Ng Ying Ci
002. Nickname(s): Do wrong pronunciations count?
003. Age: 15 going on 16
004. Horoscope: Virgo
005. Gender: Female
006. Elementary: Is this preschool or something? Then Desa Jaya
007. Primary School: Kepong 2 and Desa Jaya
008. Secondary School: Kepong
010. Hair Colour: Black, a little brownish under the sun.
011. Hair Length: Long, but it looks damn short when it's up.
012. Loud or Quiet: Usually loud in public but quiet at home.
013. Sweats or Jeans: Jeans
014. Phone or Camera: Phone, the camera is in the phone anyway.
015. Health Freak: I get these sudden quirks or whatever when I'll be a health freak, but it won't last long.
016. Drink or Smoke: Can't stand the taste. Can't stand the smell.
017. Do you have a crush on someone: Like duh.
018. Eat or Drink: I'll prefer drinking. You can live without eating but can't without drinking you know.
019. Piercings: One on each ear when I was 12. Hoping to get another one on my right ear.
020. Tattoos: I've heard that they hurt!
021. Social or Anti-Social: I have friends, but I'm only close to a few.
022. Righty or lefty: Righty. Heard that lefties are better, though.
023. First piercing: 12
024. First relationship: None.
025. First Best Friend: How the heck do I remember?
026. First Award: When I was 4 I think. Used to get a lot in preschool.
027. First Kiss: Family? Still kissing my bro.
028. First Pet: These 2 colourful tiny fish which died after a while.
029. First Big Vacation: I honestly don't know.
030. First Love at first sight: Only love at first sight - 13, he reminded me of my first crush.
031. First Big Birthday: When I was young I think, like really young.
032. First Surgery: Eww.
033. First sport you joined: Does the stupid PJK in school count?
034. Orange or Apple juice: Apple
035. Rock or Rap: Rock
036. Country or Screamo: Country. Love Taylor Swift.
037. NSYNC or Backstreet boys: Backstreet Boys
038. Britney Spears or Christina Aguilera: The old Britney.
039. Night or Day: They're basically the same to me. I hardly notice any change outside the window.
040. Sun or Moon: Sun burns the skin off me, but I hardly notice any moon too.
041. TV or Internet: Internet. You can watch movies on Youtube you know.
042. Playstation or Xbox: Huh?
043. Kiss or hug: Hugs. Friends I mean.
044. Iguana or turtle: Puppies?
045. Spider or bee: Eww.
046. Fall or spring: Can you give me a chance to compare them first?
047. Limewire or iTunes: iTunes, because I have an iPod.
048. Soccer or baseball: No thanks.
049. Eating: Sweets?
050. Drinking: Tis easy! Mocha, cappucino, latte ...
051. Excitement level: I can get pretty excited, maybe sometimes too excited.
052. I’m about to: I'm supposed to study. About to? I don't know. Laze around maybe.
053. Listening to: Some song from Hitz fm
054. Plan for today: Study accounts. Been saying this since this morning in school.
055. Waiting for: I don't exactly know. For my study mood to kick in I suppose.
056. Energy Level: Kinda low right now.
057. Thinking of someone: Errr ... No.
058. Want kids?: After I'm married. Duh
059. Want to get married?: After I graduate and get a job. Duh
060. When?: After I graduate and get a job.
061. How many kids do you want: 2. I don't care if they're males or females or twins. 2 is enough.
062. Any name on the mind: I don't know. But definitely something unique.
063. What did you want to do: Right now? Pass all my exams. Not ace, pass.
065. Mellow future or wild: Mellow. A wild future = a frightening future.
066. Something you would never try: Swear in front of my parents.
067. When do you want to die: Like I can choose it ... -_-
068. Lips or Eyes: Eyes, staring at someone's lips is just plain weird.
069. Romantic or Funny?: Funny. Romance gets me running off in real life.
070. Shorter or Taller?: Taller. But with my height, I don't think anyone can be shorter.
071. Protective or Caring?: I take both.
072. Romantic or Spontaneous?: I don't know. Spontaneous as in producing a bouquet of roses out of thin air? Wait, isn't that romance?
073. Nice Stomach or Nice Arms?: Nice stomach.
074. Sensitive or Loud?: Both are kinda unappealing. Crap. I'm loud. Am I unappealing?
075. Hook-up or Relationship?: Relationship. I can't get comfortable to strangers.
076. Trouble Maker or Hesitant?: If he's a trouble maker it'll drive me nuts and amuse me at the same time. If he's hesitant, he'll drive me nuts by keeping me waiting. So, trouble maker?
077. Muscular or normal: A little muscles will be nice.
078. Kissed a stranger: No freaking way.
079. Broken a bone: Errr .. no. Tooth got la.
080. Lost glasses or contacts: Yeah .. By the way, has anyone seen my pink frameless specs?
081. Ran away from home: I don't think so.
082. Held a gun/knife for self defence: Err ... I love the idea of living a peaceful life.
083. Killed somebody: My God! NO!
084. Broken someone’s heart: I wish I haven't.
085. Had your heart broken: I don't know. Maybe a little?
086. Been arrested: NO
087. Cried when someone died: Yup.
088. Liked a friend more than a friend: Uh-huh.
089. Yourself: You mean do I like myself? Think so.
090. Miracles: Are miracles. Which basically means it's unreal.
091. Love at first sight: Is shallow. I mean, you don't even know the guy!
092. Heaven: Up there?
093. Santa Claus: Should give me some real expensive presents this Christmas.
094. Tooth Fairy: I love my teeth, thank you. Okay, I don't love them, but I don't want them dropping off either.
095. Kiss in the first date: Depends.
096. Angels: Huh?
097. Is there 1 person you want to be with right now?: Nah. He/she'll only distract me from accounts.
098. Are you seriously happy with where you’re in life now?: No.
099. Do you believe in God?: Yup. But I think those who quote God 24/7 are too much.
100. Post as 100 truths and tag 10 people: Pei Sha, Iswaran, Wilson, Zach, Hong Liang, Chew, Lee, Steph, Sangeetha, Hanushaa

The Past?

2009-05-17T23:11:00.002+08:00

What is the past?

History? (but then we'll be asking what is history too.)
Your childhood?
Last year?
One second ago?

Basically everything that has happened before the now is our past.

But does it feel like past?

Maybe the turning point of past to present is when you let down something and just move on.

Feelings of the Past

2009-05-17T23:02:00.003+08:00

When you look back at your past,
The feelings won't be there anymore.

Maybe you can see the images.
Maybe you can hear the echo of the sounds.
Maybe you can even feel some senses in your nose that is a mirage of smell.

But feelings?

You might remember the feeling.
You might feel a twinge of your heart when you recall the feeling.
But are you really feeling it?

Feelings fade through time.
Try as you might,
You can't relive them.

Your views might change.
Your feelings might change.
You might change.
But memories won't change.

Maybe it's best if you keep the memories of your past,
Along with your feelings in the past,
Just so it still has a form of existence.

Cry

2009-05-17T22:58:00.005+08:00

What do tears signify?

Sadness?
Grief?

What if the person's angry?
What if the person's touched?
What if the person's in physical pain?
What if the person's just happy?

What if the person just has an overwhelming ocean of feelings inside that he/she is unable to do anything but cry?

MY NAME!!!

2009-05-16T16:32:00.004+08:00

That's it.
I want my name back.
I don't care what she has to do.
She has to give me back my name.
There's only one person in this world who's allowed to have that name.
And that's me.

Out of sheer boredom today,
I Googled my name.
To find results.
In a kind of numb+incredulous way,
I clicked on them.

http://yingci.livejournal.com/profile
http://profiles.friendster.com/353219

Full name also same some more!!

How did that happen?
I have a unique name.
No one else has that name.
It's my name.
I've always been proud of my name.
I lurve my name.
I don't want anyone else to have my name.

So,
I'm telling you,
Miss Ng Ying Ci,
You are no longer Ng Ying Ci,
I'm sorry but it's taken.
By me.

I Hate You

2009-05-15T14:23:00.006+08:00

This unoriginal title says it all.
I hate you.

I've never felt so much hatred in my life.
I might have hated someone before,
But never to this extend.

This is my life.
Please remember that.
You can't mess up my life.
You can't simply decide my whole life for me.

I'm a real living person.
I'm not something used only to get admiration from the outside world.
You can't cast me aside just because I've never been what you wanted me to be.

I like to believe that I'm a rational person.
Perhaps I'm not.
But are you?

I want you to give me reasons.
You do, just one that can't be accepted by me.
You just want to do things your way.
You think you know the best.

Let me enlighten you.
The world doesn't go the way you want it to.
There're other better ways to do things.

Isn't it high time you accept me as the person I am?
Isn't it high time you realise that you can't treat me as a puppet?
Isn't it high time you respect me and my decisions?
Isn't it high time you accept the fact that I'm capable of making decisions by myself?

I really want to please you.
Sincerely I do.
But I can't do so when it's so against my principles.
I can't do it when it deprives me of the things I want.

How long is this going to last?
I'm not going to be a kid for the rest of my life.
I'm not going to be controlled by you for the rest of my life.
I might not be a woman now,
But I'm not a little girl either.

In fact,
Sometimes I wish I am a little girl.
One that doesn't have to bear so much burden and expectations.
One that won't cry for hours because of what you do.

You know what I hate most about you?
The fact that you can get away with these.
The fact that you'll always think you're better.
The fact that I have no other choice but to be controlled by you.