Destiny fulfilled…

*msn: Moody *Humph*asaurus

So corny right, the title? And it’s unoriginal too, ‘cos I stole it off…

THIS!

Ahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!!!!

(I so hate people who gloat, but ah well…)

I actually only started to get excited about the whole thing on Tuesday itself. Boyfriend, however, had a running countdown – ‘I’m going to see Beyonce in 5 days…I’m going to see Beyonce in 4 days…’ – and actually started playing all kinds of Destiny Child songs the night before as “preparation”. (Sometimes I worry about that boy.)

Anyway, this momentous event has sparked off many revelations.

Revelation 1:

Destiny’s Child can sing live. I don’t only mean that they didn’t lip synch though they were dancing, etc. but that they can actually sing in tune.

I have to admit to some degree of scepticism when it comes to singers performing live. (Watch any MTV awards lately? Can you blame me?)

But this was REALLY good. (No, this has nothing to do with the occasional Johnny Depp clips they played while we were waiting for them to start.) Like, stupendously good. I am officially in awe.

Oh, though, sadly, being one who always plays by the rules (oh very well, I forgot) I didn’t bring along a camera. Felt momentarily justified by the huge sign outside saying “NO CAMERAS OR RECORDING EQUIPMENT OF ANY KIND ALLOWED”, but was almost blinded by the number of flashes in the audience when the concert started.

I’m SHOCKED I tell you, SHOCKED.

*grumble*

Revelation 2:

It’s quite possible that one day I will DIE from excessive vanity. Now, I’m not the skanky type, but it just so happens that all my dressy outfits are either sleeveless or strapless or off-shoulder or basically useless against the cold in one way or another. And obviously one cannot attend such a mega event NOT dressed to the nines.

But for the unseasonably warm-ish (I was still shivering by the end of the night) weather, I may not, dear reader, still reside amongst the living. Yes, we shall give thanks to the powers that be. There is still unfinished work for me on Earth.

Either that, or it really is true – “Only the good die young.”

Revelation 3:

I miss clubbing. Nearly put someone’s eye out while flailing around to ‘Crazy In Love’.

*sigh*

How it all began...

Right, it has to be said that prior to Tuesday night, I wasn’t exactly the biggest fan of DC. Observe:

(three quarters of a year ago)

Lizzie: Eh, want to go for the Destiny’s Child concert or not?

Me: Ah? When?

Lizzie: Next year April.

Me: NEXT YEAR?? Next year only say lah..

Lizzie: No no, if want to go must buy now.

Me: Tell you what, you go find out price and info and come back and tell me
okay? (standard evasive technique)

- next day-

Lizzie: Eh, bought your tix adis. $130 yeah. Boyfriend too.

Me: *speechless* (rare, but true.)

Yes, I concede everything turned out okay, and if anyone else is thinking of pulling a similar stunt, well, be my guest. AND MY FINANCIER.

The best laid plans…

*msn: Did you think that I was gonna give it up to you??

La la la la la la la I have cleaned up my room. Even Boyfriend was impressed. Bagus kan? (SO WHAT if it was ‘cos I wanted to take a series of pictures of my apartment to show my parents?? Ulterior motives are still motives and the ends justify the means. So there.)

Anyway I would post up one of the pictures here (and I have finally learnt how to host pictures haha..now all I need a is a digicam..) but somehow..it doesn’t look as impressive in the picture as it does in real life so too bad. All Melbournians are welcome to check out this phenomenon before it disappears though. Only $2 per entry. Drinks (only the freshest water!! Boiled on request.) included.

Australians!

Ahah…had Monday off ‘cos of Anzac day, and as the weather was particularly sunny, decided to become more Australian-ised (was recently accused by family friend’s son of still looking FOB – fresh off the boat – after 3 ½ years in Melbourne) by doing as the Australians do and go out to the park to read. (They practically worship the sun..any sign of it and instantly they appear all over the ground..like mushrooms I tell you. There was even a couple sitting on a little piece of raised tarmac at an intersection.)

Feeling pangs of guilt, I sadly left behind my Sandman-inspired book of short stories and dragged *sigh* Investments instead.

Anyway. I left the house at 3:50 p.m. Took 15 minutes to get there. Another 5 to find a bench out of range of any Frisbees or other projectiles. Another 5 to sit down and spread out stuff accordingly. Read two chapters. At about 4:55 gave up due to freezing fingers and toes (sun in Australia is MISLEADING), called Boyfriend to come walk me home (so he could enjoy the sunlight too…and the file was heavy…hahaha), and ended up watching Simpsons and Neighbours instead.

WELL I TRIED.

Girl Power!!!

Right, this is related to Erin getting booted from Apprentice, and the girls from the first season as well. Yes, long overdue, but must be said.

I cannot cannot cannot CANNOT stand the people who accused the girls of using their “sexuality” and good looks to try to win the competition.

Note yeah, I didn’t say they don’t use them, I just didn’t like people making it sound like a bad thing. (hence the word “accuse”.)

I have two reasons for this:

Firstly, the only reason girls flirt, charm, “use their sexuality” etc. is because (most of the time) they get away with it. Look, guys, I’m not saying you all do, and I’m not saying those who do do it all the time, but confess: have you ever been swayed by a pretty face? And would you have been equally swayed by similar antics on a less attractive persona? It’s quite simple really, if it didn’t work, they wouldn’t do it.

Which leads me to the second point – why shouldn’t they do it since it works? Yes, I agree it is unfair. I’m not defending from within the ranks here; I am most certainly not anything near ‘hot chick’ material, but if I were, I think I probably would use my looks on occasion to get what I want.

I realize that this may be unfair on unattractive people (this is no longer limited to the female variety) but then, isn’t it silly not to use an advantage when you have it? Should people who can run fast naturally be banned from Olympics? Smart people be given extra-difficult exams? This is not golf, and anyway anyone can look decent if they try, and there are not that many beautiful people in the world so chances of them taking over the world are pretty close to nil.

Now, what makes this bad is when it goes too far. When people “sleep their way to the top”. When unqualified people make it over qualified ones simply because of their looks. When quality of work is sacrificed for quality of physicality.

Charming and flirting just to complement your skills and knowledge is one thing. Depending on your ability to do so to make your way in life is another.

The difference is respect.

Miscellanous quote (unrelated)

“‘How do you love someone for a lifetime? How do you make a marriage work for all that time?’

‘You have to keep falling in love,’ she said.

‘You just have to keep falling in love with the same person.’”

- Man and Wife, Tony Parsons.

Affirmations MY way.

*msn: I want to lie on the floor, stare at the ceiling, cigarette in one hand, beer in another, let the music flow 'n the world go by..

I have spent my entire life wishing I was someone else.

Not a whole someone else, per se, but more like, bits and pieces of people.

Like sweetheart with her gorgeous hair and bohemian chic, or super-sophisticated amoeba (see links).

Or almost-Miriam and the way she doesn’t take Lizzie for granted, like I do Boyfriend sometimes.

Or Boyfriend, and how he always knows the right thing to do, and does it.

Or my irresistible honey tea and her undying charm.

Or the quick-tongued ice queen and how she doesn’t need to change to like herself.

Or, (and most of all) my wonderful, precious, Sylvia, who is possibly everything I want to be. The sad thing is that she feels she’s crap most of the time, which…is just sad.

Or the clichés:

Lean and lithe, tiny wisp, slender and tall; mass of curls, hair like a waterfall, pixie-cropped; eyes like the sky, twin-set emeralds, limpid pools of black; flame-haired, hair of gold, raven beauty; milk-white skin, peaches-and-cream, pale and blue-veined, apple-cheeked and freckled;

The heart of gold, the flawless mind, the gentle touch, the crooked smile; the kindest, cleverest, most devious, most honest, the fairest of them all.

…………………….

I’m not.

I’m just me.

And you know what? It’s time I actually wanted to just be the person that I am. Because that’s the only one who matters.

It has to end today. Today I will stop wishing for longer legs, or bigger eyes or fairer skin, or better brains.

Today, and forever, I will remember and I will try to and I will be happy.

Just, to be me.

The worst feeling in the world…

*msn: It wasn’t meant to be like this.

I guess the worst feeling in the world changes when we do, and depends especially on whether we are feeling it at that particular point in time.

This is what I think is the worst: when life seems a slow, inexorable, barely-moving yet unstoppable slide to an end you never imagined. Feeling that your dreams will always be the nonentities they really are, and worst of all, forgetting them.

When the pointlessness of it all is no longer a sharp splash of cold water to a sleep-sticky face; but the waves at your feet when you lie by the sea with the tide coming in on a peaceful, cloudy day…lapping, ever creeping, till…

So you see, Nicky, I do have my dark days after all.

*p/s: Nothing happened. Just feeling blue.

So much to say, so little time..

*msn: Downgrade Complete.

Oh God, have just spend 2 ½ hours doing countless online tests. I have an Investments mid-sem on Friday !! Curses. Must stop clicking on nice easy multiple-choice quizzes.

Yes. I shall blog instead. Ahahahahahahahah.

*doom*

* * * * * WARNING: Extremely long post ahead. Read at your own peril.* * * * *

Letters to the Editor

I have, as previously mentioned, finally told a number of people that I have entered the realm of blogging. First off, got a whole lot of banging due to my earlier staunch and very vocal (most things are, with me) stand against blogging in all forms.

*attempt to look sheepish and indignant at the same time*

Perhaps I should have said this was a social experiment of sorts, painted it with a nice purposeful aura. *practices purposeful look*

Mmmm…

One of them proceeded to give me a long lecture (much like Boyfriend did upon conception of this) about how he didn’t like the idea of blogs, publishing personal details, total strangers reading about you, etc. I believe he’s not reading my blog on principle, but I can’t go up to him and ask him ‘cos then I seem all badger-y so yes, this is a not-too-subtle hook to get him to speak up if he has.

Anyway everything I write here is anything I wouldn’t mind telling a total stranger face-to-face (provided I could get him to sit still and stay sane that long) so I suppose no harm done. Plus, I won’t get interrupted.

A few responded much like I would to a vaguely interesting news item; good to know, impact zero.

One more said I was a lovely writer (self-promotion ? Read on.) which put me on a high for all of 5 minutes before I came crashing down to earth under the weight of EXPECTATIONS.

The rest didn’t reply to my nicely-worded message informing them of the general release.

I am tempted to crawl away to my own cave, continue my blogging there on its walls, and leave it for people to discover millions of years later when they will not understand what I have written and will therefore mistake it to be something of worth.

Now there, is a dream.

Order ! Order I say !

Ahah. I have finally purchased adhesive-type hook (tenants have no rights, especially not to make holes in walls) so I can put up my beloved van Gogh calendar. Yes, I realize it is April, but you have to understand that anything before June is good given my gift at procrastination.

Anyway, I also bought that thing people hang over doors, you know, long bars with hooks on ? Now I no longer have to hang my towel over my chair, where it falls off after a while. (I am a very wriggly sitter.)

Aaahhh…*sigh of satisfaction*..all is going to plan with my determination to become Organized. Yes, Organized with a capital ‘O’ – I must be serious.

*firm, unyielding look*

Oh, though..my room now has plastic bags from Howard’s Storage World and Big W (source of hooks and door hooky thing) strewn on the floor, and there is a pile of dusty old Post-It® notes on my bed – cleared off my wall to make room for said calendar (plus some of them clashed with it; big no-no) and saved for sorting through..

But ‘tis a step ‘tis, and Rome herself was not built in a day !

Batwoman

Oh God, I’m turning nocturnal. (And slightly sacriligeous..just noticed this is the second time this entry I’ve taken His name in vain. Not that I’m a Christian.)

This fact was brought solidly home to me today during the International Finance lecture – not the easiest thing to get through on an ordinary day. Thankfully for my funky fringe, I can just look down, rest my head on my hand, and look like I’m concentrating really hard. Well-spent $40 I say.

Anyway, this condition of mine is not being helped in any way by Boyfriend’s 16-year-old-girl-type obsession with The O.C., or more like 16-year-old-GUY-type obsession with Rachel Bilson, who plays Summer. This means that he simply must have his regular doses of the show (1 every 2, or at most, 3 days), courtesy of his course mate’s broadband connection and DVD burner NO MATTER THE TIME.

Typical conversation:

Boyfriend : (appearing in my apartment, sounding very concerned) Eh, it’s 2:30 a.m. ! So late !

Me : (touched) No, no, it is okay, I am finishing soon.

Boyfriend : Can’t it wait ? Do you have to do it now ? It’s so late..not good to sleep so late.

Me : (even more touched) No, no, it is all right, I just need to finish up. Go sleep lah, I will be fine, talk to you tomorrow.

-After long pause complete with incredulous look, and in a “have-you-forgotten-very-important-occasion-on-par-with-tenth-
anniversary” voice.-

Boyfriend : HELLO ?? O.C. ???

*breathe calmly*

It is all right. I have my Lemon-Lime Soothers which I will chain-consume to keep me awake.

And I will burn those DVDs.

Final words

Are you still here ??? Reading ??? I commend thee. Anyway, just wanted to explain the MSN nick and then you are free to go.

I downloaded MSN 7.0 last week. Winks and nudges a-plenty, larger webcam images, and all sorts of cute smileys.

And then. The dreaded phrase:

"The following message could not be delivered to all recipients:"

At first it happened but a few times. Then more. And more. And more again. And soon I found I could only send messages in little bursts of time..like..for 5 minutes I’d be able to get my words across, and then..silence (on my end, anyway) for perhaps three times that length of time. I took to copying all my messages before I sent them, on the off-chance I’d have to paste and send them again, and resorted to changing my nick to reply any particularly pressing questions.

Speechlessness..sheer horror.

A friend blithely suggested that, what with my volubility in real life and this blog, I had used up my quota of talk time in the world.

…………….

I have since regressed to MSN Messenger 6.2 which is BEAUTIFUL (thanks amoeba darling) and lets me do what I do best (actually just most) without interruption.

The little things in life really do make a difference.

“ ‘Life,’ said Marvin dolefully, ‘loathe it or ignore it, you can’t like it.’ ”

- Marvin (a robot), The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, Douglas Adams.

Love life. I do.

Open for business

*msn: The Lady, she says - http://unilinguist.blogspot.com

Okay, so I’m cheating a bit, and that won’t be my MSN nick till I’m done posting this entry. Well this is supposed to be the welcome wagon and so it wouldn’t do to send out invites till I’m ready would it ?

I have decided that I shall let it be known far and wide across the land (actually just my friends) about the existence of this blog. I cannot cannot cannot spend so many hours downloading un-useable software and writing about downloading un-useable software for the reading pleasure of:

1. Boyfriend, who has to be first reminded that I even have a blog, and then be persuaded (he would say forced) to read it; and
2. Sister, who DOES read it, and even leaves PROPER comments, but is just one person after all (no matter the many personalities)

I’ll still remain anonymous etc. though till I feel comfortable enough with typing my name out on-screen.

Let me try: V…. no can’t do it, sorry. But you know who I am.

Anyway, to all of you, forgive my ramblings, and if you read nothing else, read just this line, ‘cos this one’s for you:

Welcome !!!

Peace out.

These are the days..

*msn: Can’t win, don’t try. – Bart Simpson

This is how I have been feeling the past couple of days:

-turtle-

Well there SHOULD be a picture of a turtle there, and I have spent collectively over 6 hours downloading and installing software to ensure there WOULD be a turtle there, but the software has steadfastly refused to work (why do you think it took 6 hours ? Dial-up is not THAT slow) and so you’ll just have to use your imagination.

I have a blogpad !! It’s a recycled-paper lecture pad I have decided to carry around with me so I don’t forget the hundred and one things I keep intending to blog about but which never fail to elude me when I finally do sit down to write.

-blogpad-

Right, there SHOULD be a picture of…AURGH !!

La la la la la…

I am a GENIUS.

Earlier today, my heater decided, spitefully, to stop working. (SO WHAT if I’d just dropped it on the floor ? It’s carpeted. Jorrs.)

Basically the propeller had dropped off its little stick that connects it to the motor (I’m no engineer) and for some peculiar reason, the manufacturers had decided to make it in such a way that it was unopenable except by someone who actually knew what they were doing. (Suddenly the reason doesn’t seem so peculiar.)

Anyway…

I FIXED IT ! Aha. Ahahahahahahahahaha. With nothing but a pair of tweezers and a bright desk lamp.

And my parents said I’d never amount to anything. HAH.

Movie of the Day

Watched Lion King last night with Boyfriend. He has seen all three American Pies, has zillions of VCDs in his house, and is perhaps the 3^rd greatest movie expert I have ever known, but he has NEVER SEEN LION KING.

Tsk tsk. Kids nowadays.

Word of the Day

mangel-wurzels

Definition:

man·gel-wur·zel )(mnggl-wûrzl)

n.

A variety of the common beet having a large yellowish root, used chiefly as cattle feed.

Last read in:

“The Public Confessions of a Middle-Aged Woman” – Sue Townsend

Weird Dinner of the Week (you only get one dinner a day)

(in order of appearance and consumption)

1. 1 glass of milk
2. 3 carrots and complementary amount of chocolate chips (for baking)
3. barley-gingko-foochuk tong sui (thanks to housemate)
4. cold roast chicken (left over from Monday)

*Note: carrots and chocolate chips are meant to be eaten TOGETHER as in put-in-mouth-at-same-time-and-chewed-together together. Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.

News of the Day (domestic)

I have a new haircut ! With a bang-y fringe ! It’s all the rage you know. Just look at the O.C.

*preen*

News of the Day (foreign)

As if anything could be more important than my haircut. Hah. Well apparently Britney Spears is pregnant, and Eva Longoria may be playing Wonder Woman.

So sue me, I haven’t read a newspaper in ages. :oP

Australian paedophiles have been banned from tsunami countries.

More proper stories at www.theage.com.au

Discovery of the Day

Fish only tastes nice hot. Especially the eyeballs.

Quote of the Day

“Ivanhoe is a story about a Russian farmer and his tool.”

-- Bart Simpson, ‘Marge Gets a Job’

I love the Simpsons.

Oh Happy Day !! And much more !!

*msn: Good things come to those who wait..

As evident from the sudden appearance of completely irrelevant (not to mention self-serving) comments, Boyfriend has started to read the blog.

No, no, that sounds too peaceful. Actually what happened was this:

B: The whole thing is just complaining complaining complaining. I read two lines then gave up adi. Write about something else lah !!

Me: But it’s a blog. Blogs are for writing what I feel like writing. I’m writing because it makes me feel HAPPY (looking anything but).

B: But you could include TV reviews ! Talk about movies lah, or celebrity gossip, eh, and put more headings and subheadings lah..now your blog ah..just one long chunk..so hard to read ! (How how how how HOW does he get all his H1s ??? I’m sure when you study reading is involved !!!)

Me: But a blog is a WEBLOG. An online journal. You don’t go to your diary and say “Dear Diary, today Eddie Mcguire did this this that that..” right ? And I’m not some infotainment channel..

B: But you SHOULD have infotainment ! If not what are you writing for ??

You can imagine the rest lah. Boyfriend is a big fan of the useful and does not like the idea of wasted time and cyberspace.

So okay fine, in deference to Boyfriend, I give you…

*pam pa dush*

- channel 26 ⁵/₃ – your one stop blogging needs fulfilled !! -

First up, NO WHINING ! So had three hours of sleep last night ‘cos of FNV assignment..mm mm mm…ain’t that the greatest ?

Interesting link sent to me by my friend recently:

http://www.big-boys.com/articles/everyonesex.html

And the lyrics: (‘cos I couldn’t make out anything past a single line without them)

http://tumanov.com/entry/270

Newsflash:

The one and only news article I read today – Jennifer Lopez is going to legally change her name to Jennifer Anthony. Quoth my assignment mate:

AM: J-Lo..hmm..J-Ant ? *mulls over it and then shakes head sorrowfully* It’s just not the same leh…

Celebrity gossip:

See above.

TV reviews:

Given that I’ve been struggling with assignments the past week or so, the most recent show I’ve watched is last week’s episode of The Apprentice on tape. Halfway through the program:

Boyfriend: I think girls just can’t do business lah.

*poises to whack him with anything handy, preferably hard*

Boyfriend: (continues) They’re just too emotional.

*stops in the act of attempting to commit GBH*

Fume fume..

It was good though, as the Apprentice often is, though as I’ve read on another website somewhere, possibly www.jumptheshark.com, it’s kinda scary sometimes when you think..this is the best America has to offer.

Eh, not looking down on them okay, they’ve all achieved far more than I probably ever have..it’s just that..kinda expected super-perfect people who don’t do anything wrong. Then again, that probably wouldn’t make for good TV.

Movie reviews:

All the years of joining lucky draws have finally paid off: last Friday, in my uni e-mail, I received this:

Dear ********,

Thanks for entering the Student Union Cinema Competition. 

You have won a double pass to Napolean Dynamite

This film is showing Monday 11 April. Film starts at 6pm.

This pass is only valid for the session and film listed above.

To collect your tickets present your student card at the Box Office or 

Information Center located on the ground floor of Union House.

Thank you for your entry.

*****

Wah, was so happy, though the only reactions I got were:

Friend 1: Napo-what ??

Friend 2: Why can’t you be like other people and win a Crumpler bag or iPod or something ? Just like you to win passes to some weird-sounding movie. And only two some more.

And so it was I settled down to watch the movie with Boyfriend today with such encouraging good wishes ringing (Friend 2 has a rather loud voice) in my ear.

It wasn’t that bad lah. A little lame, and amateurish looking, but it was pretty good. I’m not too good with movie reviews; I find I have a thing for long-winded, talky talky, meaningful movies, peopled by ironic characters armed either with razor-sharp wit, piercing insights, or heartbreaking observations about the world.

One character stood out to me though – this guy in his late thirties who was apparently quite the football player in his youth, but somehow never got his opportunity. He constantly talks about his glory days, and videotapes himself throwing footballs endlessly, and his girlfriend leaves him because he refuses to let go of 1982.

Man. I can so see that happening to me. Not throwing footballs, obviously, since I cannot play sports (personal choice and by general consensus). But the constant obsession with the past, endless regrets, and finding that the only way I can look forward is by looking back and saying, “I had that. I did that. I could have been great. I could have been someone. So close..I was so close..”

A sudden chill has crossed over me.

Perhaps it’s time I got cracking at that tutorial work for tomorrow.

Good night, and fare thee all well.

In the light of day..

*msn: Time to say goodbye..

-morning-

After reading the previous post, written in the oddest hours of the morning, I have come to three conclusions:

1) I must not write posts when in throes of massive sleep-deprivation intoxication as I sound even more neurotic than I am.

2) I am extremely self-absorbed, and I must stop writing mainly about myself as it is not only vain, but extremely boring.

3) I must stop thinking AND DECLARING that I am pathetic. If I can’t find anything good about myself, it’s going to be highly doubtful that anyone else will.

Spent last night having dinner out at Sofia’s (huge, huge amounts of glorious food) and then to friend’s house as she is leaving for M’sia for good today. Wahz..sads lah.

I don’t wanna grow up, I wanna be a Toys R’ Us kid. *sigh*

* * * * * * *

-night-

*AAAAAAAAAAARRRGGHHHHHHHH* !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

HORRORS!!!!!

There is a spot. On my one and only white Giordano spaghetti-strapped top. A SPOT I SAY A SPOT !!!

Calm..calm..*breathes deeply* There is always bleach..

It just occurred to me the other day that when it comes to stains, I seem to instantly channel Lady Macbeth. Or at least I would’ve if she had been a real person (was she ?), but I know you know what I mean and if you don’t you will soon.

First comes the horror at the sight, and then the agonies of guilt over having eaten (or in the Lady’s case aided in killing) so wantonly and carelessly.

Then, the endless scrubbing in the late of night (my housemate can attest to that as she is then cut off from the use of the toilet as long as I am in there) while muttering under my breath “Out, damned spot !” and various other words I’m sure the Lady M said too, only Shakespeare was too polite to write them down.

“All the perfumes of Arabia etc. etc.” could not match my laundry ‘arsenal’ which I drag out every time I have clothes to wash; Dynamo (of lipstick-circled kicap stain fame), fabric conditioner (which I spend half an hour choosing as I simply must surreptitiously open and sniff all the brands), spot stain remover, and White King for Colours laundry soaker ! I love my White King. I also have wool wash for woolens (duh) and my beloved bleach (White King brand too). I am currently saving up to buy Dynamo Black, designed to keep my blacks blacker, and dream someday of buying Fabric-Eze, which makes clothes easier to iron. Not that I have time to do any ironing, but it never hurts to have some around the house. *taps nose knowingly*

Of course the similarity ends here because she eventually degenerates into complete and utter madness and commits suicide whereas I am obviously still alive. And completely and utterly sane.

Don’t agree ? A pox on all your laundry.

Never-ending story, or sentences at least.

*msn: Oh Sylvia, where art thou ?

Haha..have decided to prove myself wrong about the first entry being the one and only. Not sure who I’m proving it to though since I have yet to tell anyone about the blog except Boyfriend and Sister. Also not sure why I seem so intent on proving myself wrong (as if other people don’t do it often enough, especially uni examiners) but there you go.

Height of pathetic-ness (look, I know the word doesn’t exist, or at least my beloved Oxford says it doesn’t. Can’t find the noun for pathetic though, unless it’s ‘pathos’ which doesn’t exactly convey what I’m trying to say which will become clear once this never-ending sentence…hmm...ends.):

I was late for class on Thursday morning as I was reading MY OWN BLOG repeatedly…pretending to be someone who had serendipitously (or so I like to believe) come across it and gauging MY OWN REACTION (albeit that of a split personality) to it. I didn’t stop there however, but decided, against all logic and common sense, to install a blog viewer counter despite the fact that only two people know of its existence. I either cannot do the math, or am in the depths of denial, and we know how deep they can be.

Sad to say, the statistics returned to me so far are:

Total Visitors:	3
Total Hits:	7

Today's Visitors:	0
Today's Forecast*:	0

The only thing which looks even vaguely impressive is the total hits figure, until one uncovers the painful and shameful truth: 6 of them are me constantly re-opening the page to admire my own handiwork before I realized I can (and should) block my IP address from being counted. Obviously the counter was not fooled, as is evident from the forecast figure.

Digression alert: I think I am turning into Elizabeth Barrett Browning. Or Emily Dickinson. Not in a nice, melancholic, romantic, poetic kind of way, but more along the lines of people who never really spoke much, and were only truly articulate (or so it is rumoured) in their writing.

Yes, I realize that saying I think I am unable to communicate verbally is quite possibly the biggest oxymoron so far this century (and perhaps the last), but I have discovered that since the advent of online chats I have become rather dependent on the idea of being able to edit every single reply till I am satisfied enough to send it. This is obviously not the best of conditions to be in as my brain has become wired to formulate all replies and comebacks first and foremost in draft form to be scrutinized and tweaked in my own time. I’m sure you’ll agree that this is not exactly conducive to scintillating conversation, as I now have to pause a full 2 seconds before every reply and even then it is usually substandard.

Perhaps one day I shall simply STOP editing all my replies and hit ENTER before I can change my mind about anything I have typed to reverse this mindset. But till then I will continue to succumb to my vanity and rework all I have to say to maintain my dubious reputation for being mildly interesting.

How I ramble !

Anyway, on a brighter note, I was watching the Melbourne Comedy Festival on TV the other night, when one of the comedians started on the subject of beauty magazines and women attempting to achieve the impossibility of looking like all the air-brushed women by purchasing anything from one to all of the beauty products advertised in said magazines.

Comedian: The funny thing is, GUYS AREN’T FUSSY ! In fact, for me, if I can find a girl who’s willing to kiss me and has a favourite episode of the Simpsons, I’d be chuffed !

Well I am typing this from memory. My memory, which is not the most reliable thing in the world. Far from it actually. Light-years far. Trust me when I say it sounded a lot better coming from him.

Anyway, the point I was trying to make here is this: I am desirable to celebrities. Celebrity comedians. Comedians. Well I am desirable, so there.

*Mr. Burns voice* Exxcelllent…

And so it begins...

*msn: To sheep perchance to dream

After months of saying “I will never start a blog” and giving lists and lists of reasons why not, I have decided to, yet, again, prove that I never know what I am talking about.

I am sure my friends will never let me forget this, so I shall conveniently forget to tell anyone that I have started one. Maybe just my sister, to save me the trouble of telling her everything which I have a habit of doing anyway. Also given my extremely limited attention span, this might be the only entry so why bother people.

I think the main reason for the conception of this is yet another in a series of Ways For Me To Procrastinate – a list long enough to deserve to have its heading capitalized.

Case in point:

Books borrowed from Rowden White (only my favourite library in the world):

1. Jingo by Terry Pratchett (for like the tenth time. Pratchett junkie.)
2. A three-in-one by Agatha Christie
3. Pebble In The Sky by Issac Asimov

Books borrowed from ERC (whose basement full of dusty old books I have just discovered – now I can stop borrowing children’s books from them)

1. Best American Short Stories 1945
2. Moby Dick – Herman Melville
3. The Three Musketeers – Alexandre Dumas (it was donated by someone, and actually has a signature dated 1914 in the front cover)

Note: 2 & 3 were mainly chosen because I have decided that if I am going to claim to be someone who reads a lot, I have to start reading books like this ‘cos everyone expects me to have done so already.

Other reading material from various sources (boyfriend, housemate, people who hand out flyers, etc.)

1. FHM with Halle Berry on cover (largest headline proclaims: THE WORLD’S BEST BEER REVEALED – ironic since I cannot drink to save my life)
2. Dead Famous by Ben Elton
3. Stacks of The Age, the business section of which I swear I will read someday.
4. Uni stuff *waves hand dismissively* and aforementioned flyers.

If anyone is annoyed with all these lists, bear in mind that you should be thankful because ordinarily I cannot stop (writing, reading, or talking) and I have written countless paragraph-long sentences. Anyway I tend to write/talk like whatever/whoever I have been reading/talking to, so all these lists are courtesy of the many careers pages I have been dragging myself through for the past few hours.

In keeping with the theme, I’ll sign off with a couple more lists.

Things I intended to do today:

1. Finish Question 5 of my IF assignment.
2. Read up for tomorrow’s lectures.
3. Not chat online.
4. Not read any reading material from list 1, 2, and parts of 3.
5. Read up on FNV assignment.
6. Do sit-ups (actually crunches – I know my limits)
7. Apply for jobs.

Things I managed to do today:

1. Finished Question 5 of my IF assignment. (my group is meeting tomorrow, paiseh lah if don’t do. And it’s due on Friday.)
2. Chatted online.
3. Finished Jingo. Started Dead Famous. Finished FHM (old copy anyway so skipped the boring stuff.)
4. Did not do sit-ups/crunches but ate healthy food for dinner so it counts. Chewed longer too.
5. Applied for a job.

Not that bad what…….