Damsel in Distress

I went to the mall with two of my friends to catch a movie today. The movie is an enchanting fairytale about an enchanting princess who finally got an enchanting happily ever after called (see it coming?) Enchanted.

Christmas is in the offing and the Christmas spirit is slowly befalling; the malls have started playing Christmas carols, shops are decorated with Christmas ornaments, everyone's being nice (not entirely true). It feels good. I feel the happiest when Christmas rolls around because everything about it is...enchanting. It is also in celebration of Jesus' ____th birthday. It truly is a joyous occasion. The next best thing about it would be the snow if it were actually snowing here. Sadly, Malaysia's climate doesn't include the four seasons and is bright and sunny all year round. Delightful, no? I know, no.

I only have one thing to kvetch about (besides the deprivation of snow): The daunting task of figuring out gifts to get for my family. I always have this dilemma when it comes to birthdays and Christmas. It's irksome and kills my brain cells in the process. OK, maybe my parents are easy:

Dad: Wallet/Belt/Gym Gear/Other Man Stuff
Mom: Jewellery/Jewellery/Other Woman Stuff

But my 19-year-old brother the hermit? _________ (fill in here).

I have absolutely no clue as to what he wants or what I should get him for Christmas. He's computer savvy (I'm not) so gadgets are out of the question. And he has practically everything he wants. He doesn't care about fashion, music, books and the outside world. So if you have any idea, any at all, as to what I should get him this Christmas, I'm all ears; or rather, all eyes. Any idea of yours should be better than mine which is nil. I am 97.81% affirmative he isn't reading this blog so please help a damsel in distress (ahem, me) if you can. I am truly at my wits' end. Who knew my brother was one tough person to get a gift? Me, that's who.

I have started saving up for the Christmas presents. I refrained from buying a book in the bookstore earlier today. It truly was a miracle! I hope I can prolong this. Otherwise I would have to quit entering bookshops? Not gonna happen.

My brother woke up at 4PM today. I was beginning to suspect that he might be narcoleptic until I found out that he only slept at 7AM this morning and was awake throughout the night. He's got his day-night shift pathetically twisted.

My mother purchased two dumbbells that weigh 2kg each at the mall. They are pink in colour. That's all I have to say about it; the italics say the rest.

My parents are currently attending a masquerade while I am reading a book. Lucky folks. Not that I'm complaining.


Mission Accomplished

I am finally done with my book clearance. It took me 3 days (2 days of procrastination and 1 day of actually doing it). Phew.

As I was rearranging my books, I saw some books I forgot I had because it had been too long.

Some prominent books that have been collecting dust:
1 - The Story of Tracy Beaker. This book scarred me for several years in my childhood days and I hate the author as much as I hate Shakespeare. It is because exactly on page 13, there is the sentence (quote): Things I don't like - the name Justine. Most of all I hate Justine. That Monster Gorilla. I mean, really. It was probably one of my first few books when I was a little girl and it received many good reviews while I seem to think otherwise. I was only ten-years-old or so then.
2 - The Book of 1000 Poems. My mother bought me this book when I was in middle school. I don't think I ever read it.
3 - Some very crappy books I bought out of bad decision-making. I had to force myself to finish them.
4 - Enid Blyton hardback books.
5 - God's Girls! Devotions and Activities for Ages 9-12. I glanced through the pages and saw some very illogical stuff I'd written when I was an illogical kid. I had to fill in several blanks about what I'd like to become and what someone else gave me in return when I gave him/her something. The answer to the first question was (what I wrote): I'd like to become a singer or a pianoist for God. and the second, I gave my friend a bookmark and she gave me a soft, unporky, spiky hair toy that was so cute. Pianoist? Unporky?
6 - Adult books I bought when I was a preteen and have never touched until now. I'll read them in the future.
7 - Rugrats Go Wild, a novelisation. This is probably the best-looking book cover. What can be better than the bottom abdomen of a baby in diapers?
8 - Some of the best books I've ever read.
9 - Classics I never laid a finger on: Romeo and Juliet, Empire of The Sun, Pride and Prejudice, Othello and The Secret Garden.
10 - Books I want to burn to ashes or rip to shreds because they are just downright vulgar/blasphemy/nonsensical.

Furthermore, I dug out 9 bookmarks from 9 books. This means I've read 9 books halfway and haven't finished them. I'll try to finish them during this holidays.


Eccentric Bookworm

I slept at 5:30AM last night, or rather, this morning. I was reading a 600-paged book. Yet, I was the earliest to get up this morning (or you could say afternoon) with the exception of my father who has work.

I promised myself to read only 300 pages and then get some sleep. But what did I do? I finished the whole book. Which got me pondering. When I said I'm a book addict, I do mean that I'm literally addicted to books. I have to buy a book when I'm in a bookstore. Hence, my constant penniless state. Moreover, I have to read everyday especially before I sleep every night or I can't sleep at all. Plus, I have to bring a book wherever I go even though I might not even read it. It's rather depressing, really.

That sounds freaky to me, even. Though I don't go to the extreme such as to eat, sleep, bathe and breathe books -like reading >10 books a day which seems nuts even to me- I am, truly, a tortured book addict. These 3 words don't sound good together. Maybe this is better: I'm a. Tortured. Book. Addict.

Nope, no difference. Anyway, I don't think there's a remedy for it. No such thing as Bookaholic Anonymous as well.

It's really ironic when I look at it in hindsight. Barely 2 years ago, I resented reading more than anything; this, I kid you not. So I ask myself this unanswerable question: How did this happen?

It's gotten to a point where it's not even funny and enjoyable. And normal. It's torture, I tell you, torture!

I've let the cat out of the bag so if you want to report me to an asylum or highly suggest that I seek psychiatric treatment, well...please don't.


Mother-daughter Tête-à-tête

While I was rearranging and shelving my books today, this fateful conversation took place:
Justine: I haven't got enough space to arrange all of my storybooks in one place. It's everywhere.
Mother of Justine: Well, do you know what the solution is?
We answered simultaneously.
Justine: Get a new book shelf?
Mother of Justine: Stop buying books.

Mine was a question while hers was a statement. I shot her a look of disbelief; aghast and speechless. That was a terrible suggestion.

Mother of Justine: Please continue rearranging your books now. Don't waste time.

I lost it then.
Justine: You should be elated over the fact that I'm addicted to books instead of smoking or drugs.
Mother of Justine: No. You shouldn't be addicted to anything.
Justine: What about you?
Mother of Justine: What are you trying to imply, Justine?
And then we got into a massive mother-daughter catfight and I won. Subject closed.

Fine. The second part didn't happen; it was just a figment of my imagination. The conversation ended when my mother ordered me to resume what I was doing and so I schlepped to my room with my head hanging down. When you've got an authoritative mother, you lose over a discussion on buying a new shelf and acceptable addictions. It doesn't make any sense, does it? Never mind.


A Series of Unfortunate Events

As the title of this post insinuates, a litany of unusual events occurred today. As I was halfway through The Cleaning of my books and magazines this morning, my mother wanted to go to the mall so I halted the book-clearance -which I'll continue tomorrow, I hope- and got a shower before we left.

However, we never arrived there because there was a strike at the Indian temple, somewhere near my church area. There were an ambulance, the police and an airborne helicopter hovering very close to the ground. I was pretty freaked out since my mother told me that there was probably a mass fight going on. All plans for the mall flew out the window and my mother steered the car around, heading back to the other side of town which was safer. Traffic was at a standstill so we had to use a route I'd never been on before.

A friend later told me that the people on strike were carrying ice cubes (possibly large ones) to smash cars that passed by. Phew! Praise God we managed to get out of there unscathed! And un-iced.

My father met us for lunch. Whilst we were eating, a small boy that looked around 10-years-old or so flew past us; he was running at breakneck speed. He was chased in hot pursuit by three other men clad in the same T-shirt with the same logo. One of them was clutching a long wooden stick. The first thought that came to my mind was: Poor boy, he must've shoplifted a little food out of starvation. They should let him go out of mercy.

But it could not be any further from the truth. The boy was actually a bicycle-kidnapper. He has been stealing bikes for some time now (this explains why a friend's bike went missing two weeks ago) and the shopkeepers were waiting for the right time to catch him red-handed. I think they failed to catch the young perpetrator since after a few minutes, I saw them climb into a car and speed down the road.

My mother was apprehensive for the boy's welfare -the wooden stick was without a doubt to whack him. I have no comment about this. Except that the boy is adept at running and picking locks. And that he should also receive retribution.

If you are wondering where my brother was during all these bizarre events, he was sleeping at home in his room, oblivious to the mishaps going on in the world.

At the end of the day, I'm glad we didn't go to the mall. Moreover, I'm glad I don't cycle nor own a bike. Furthermore, I'm glad I don't know the depths of politics since this country's political state is deteriorating -there have been two strikes/demonstrations...so far; elections are around the corner.

Not-so-recent but unnerving Malaysian news: Police barged into a schooling boy's home to confiscate his belongings and throw him in jail because he mentioned something about injustice that was indecent. There is no freedom of speech here. The boy now has to put his studies on hold for I-don't-know-how-long. And the Malaysian dude residing in Taiwan who mocked the government in a rap video clip? He's not allowed to return here; ever. I'm not even going to comment on any of these.

However, I'm not afraid to say that, well, to say that I'm afraid. For fugitivity, I'm thinking of Australia. Just kidding. Maybe Canada. OK, just kidding!


Nearly Spick-and-Span Rooms

My brother and I accomplished an arduous task today: Cleaning our rooms. I have to admit, my brother's room was undoubtedly the more interesting and pry-worthy one; albeit messier. My brother had filled up two huge rubbish bags by the end of the day; I barely filled one rubbish bag.

Noteworthy items stashed at my brother's crash pad:
- 13th birthday card. He's 19 now.
- His birthday gift from me which he returned back to me since he wanted to throw it away
- Ball of colourful strings
- Looney Tunes mug
- Brochure about a famous transsexual cabaret show we went to ages ago in Thailand, unwillingly
- Game Boy game cartridges, yo-yo, a decade-old Digimon; these all went into the dumpster
- His high school pin
- Extremely nostalgic toys/stuff we used to play together when we were in our diapers
- Fat Boy Slim cassette case and Deep Purple CD case
- His friend's old biodata book which can be used to blackmail (just kidding)
- A pouch with the word FRUITY at the front which I had wanted badly...once upon a time
- Sweet wrappers and expired vouchers

And the stuff I found in my boudoir?
- Proof of my preteen obsession towards a boy band whose name I'll never divulge. Ironically, I despise them now.
- Missing Physics notes
- A short story created by my two cousin sisters and me when we were really young girls titled 'A Pig With Purple?' Yes, that's a question mark and our brains apparently were infested then because the story is inexplicably gross. And the grammar is atrocious. I'll post it next time when I don't cringe whilst reading it.
- Priceless 'little girl' stuff I collected since kindergarten
- Parents' wedding photo album which my parents had a good laugh about as they reminisced. I, quite frankly, don't know why it was in my room in the first place.

So you see? My brother's room had more of the valuable, treasured and sentimental stuff. I felt immense nostalgia as we dug through nooks and crannies. However, my room had more books. There were books on the shelves, table and on my bed since I have a confined book space. I've got to do some book-vacuuming.

I realised as the cleaning came to an end -for the day; our rooms were only three-quarters cleaned, sadly- that the main problem isn't the cleaning. (Alright, who am I kidding? It is the problem.) But the real dilemma is the maintaining. Maintaining a clean room is not one of my nor my brother's finest attributes.

I am positive that our rooms will be as messy as it were this morning few months from now. Two months, tops.



It's post-Thanksgiving and I finally took the initiative to find out why people on this region of the Earth (or maybe only Malaysians) don't even acknowledge much less celebrate Thanksgiving; Halloween is another one. The reason is because Thanksgiving Day is an American (and Canadian) traditional holiday and there's a history behind it -which I read one paragraph about here. It's celebrated on the fourth Thursday of November and I think Malaysians should make room for it in the future since we can make room for Christmas, Chinese New Year, Deepavali, Hari Raya and a whole lot of public as well as school holidays.

As the name of the festive celebration insinuates, it is a holiday to give thanks to God for the things one has at the end of the harvest season. It seems like an important holiday to miss so I shall (try to) celebrate it next year. Sadly, this was what I did on Thanksgiving Day this year. Maybe next year, I can try a turkey; or maybe just a bite of it. I hope my mother will give me her consent to get a turkey. I will have to wait and see. But why turkey though?

Anyway, this is late but better late than never. I am thankful for:
- Having all aspects of the sovereign God in my life
- Exceptional Family
- Great Buddies
- Being able to do the simplest things in life like read and talk and see. Seriously.
- Storybooks

This is also extremely late but, uh, Happy Post-Thanksgiving!


Stodgy Day and Vapid Post

Today was utterly uneventful and mundane. Noteworthy parts of the day were:
- Two of my friends are in a magazine snippet about a concert they attended and I bought the magazine; I don't know why, probably for keeps sake
- A friend told me that she will be going to Japan for a homestay programme in December
- My cousin sister went for a church camp
- My BM class teacher gave me a lifetime of homework
- I bought two new storybooks
- My mother bought RM200 worth of groceries at the supermarket
- I think I got bitten by a mosquito a few seconds ago

Did I say uneventful? Sorry, I meant, uneventful for me.

And it is a mosquito bite.


Tea Bag for Eye Bag

My mother brought me for a haircut today. As the hairdresser snipped off about 3 inches of my hair, I occupied the time by looking at myself in the mirror in front of me because really, there wasn't anything else to do.

During my self-analysing, I realised that I've got eye bags that would only disappear upon grinning. I think I need more sleep.

I don't know if the tea bag remedy really works. I like drinking tea so I think I'll spare the tea bags.


My Chemical Aversion

Just got back from my Chemistry class. The lesson was on Manufactured Substances in Industry. The class today was a bummer for me since:-
a) I was in a state of hunger
b) I needed to pee
c) My eyes were drooping
d) I couldn't answer the question about the special tests for sulphur dioxide and my teacher gave me a disapproving look
e) I couldn't promise my teacher that I'd revise at least 4 hours a day during the holidays because it is next to impossible for me
f) I had to learn a whole chapter on Manufactured Substances in Industry

I really can't comprehend the significance of knowing that nitrogen is obtained by the fractional distillation of liquid air. I really can't. And that's not all. There is a whole lot more.

Suffice to say, I don't think I have any interest in being a chemist or anything relative. There are just too many chemicals in existence for me to study and know all of them.

Off to complete my Physics homework. Now that is a subject I love.


Banned Words

Words my mother banned me from saying in the past:-
a) Just joking
I used to say this in every sentence when I was in middle school. Which just goes to show that I wasn't serious about anything that came out of my mouth. Ergo, my mother's banning.
b) Bad
Yes, bad. I used to call my mother bad whenever she said No to my requests. The occasional ones were 'You're so bad.', 'Why are you so bad?', 'Hmph. You're bad.', 'Bad, bad, bad.' My vocab was very low in middle school so bad was the only negative adjective I could conjure in my ire. I don't use bad as much now. I use cruel, evil, sadistic, repulsive and wicked. I'm just joking. I try to stay away from using bad adjectives...as much as I can.

Words I banned myself from using in the past:-
a) Sad
Yes, sad. Everything was sad to me; not literally. If things didn't go right, I'd belt out a 'Sad!' If I heard someone was in trouble, I'd go, 'Sad.' If I did something stupid, I'd ask rhetorically, 'Am I sad or what?' See, it was getting to a point where I was a becoming a really sad (literally!) nutcase. So I stopped myself before sad became my principle word.
b) Like -in a superfluous manner.
'Like, she was like, just, like, you know, like?' Either she was or she wasn't. No likes in between. Sheesh. And get to the point!
c) Crap
I hated using vulgar words and I still do. In fact, I hate hearing/reading/listening to crude language. My ears/eyes would hurt. Hypothetically. So what I used to mutter in exasperation was Crap! And I realised crap isn't a very uplifting word and is just as bad as other vulgar words. Also, it's a negative four-letter word. So I decided to stop using it.
d) Yeah, right.
Everything was yeah, right for me that during the times I actually meant yeah, right, people wouldn't even believe that I literally meant yeah, right. Sad, isn't it?

Now, I use all those words in moderation so all's well that ends well.

Yeah, right.

I meant that literally.


The Struggle of Two Siblings

Yesterday was a bad day. I nearly went senile. Nearly.

My house couldn't get access to the Internet. My brother, the biggest computer addict, called our neighbour who is also our cousin brother to check if he could use the Internet. He couldn't as well.

When my parents came back from the mall, my mother wanted to use the Internet to pay the bills. So the three of us needed the Internet desperately.

These were what happened throughout the Internet-deprived day:
1. My brother the hermit actually came out of his room. Shocking!
2. My brother went to bathe without someone actually telling him to do it. Double shocker there!
3. I laughed non-stop and became rather hysterical. The only other option was to cry.
4. My brother remarked, "Can't live without the Internet, can ya? Can ya?"
5. I text messaged my cousin sister on the handphone to inquire if she could use the Internet. She could and she wasn't even using it when I asked.
6. I wrote, typed and edited five short fictitious stories.
7. I went to the living room, the TV room, my bedroom, the computer room, the kitchen, the bathroom and the hall in less than a minute.
8. I finished all of my homework. Well, three-quarters of it.
9. I argued with my brother because he asked me to call the Internet people and I said I didn't have their number and he said go get it and I said I'd have to surf the Internet to get their number to tell them that the Internet's down and I also added that we're not making any sense and we ended up doubling over in fits of laughter.
10. I realised how addicted I am to the Internet. Nooo!!! Wait. Or am I addicted to blogging? Since one of the main reasons I wanted the Internet was so that I could blog. Still, noooooo!!!!!!

The day got even worse when my considerate English teacher texted me about a Penguin book sale that is held ONCE every FIVE years. She planned to go to it and invited me since I, you know, like reading. However, I had to decline since I have to attend my English and Accounts classes today.

Oh man.

Let me say it again: oh man.


Fashion Occasion

Just got back from a fashion show. No kidding. A real official one with a long runway, thousands of blinding camera flashes, VIPs, socialites, food/drinks served on trays by butlers, etc. It was my first time attending a genuine one and I dreaded it at first. Thankfully, my cousin sister was there to accompany me. The events that occurred are still vivid in my mind so here are some of the highlights (kinda) of the fashion show:

My cousin sister and I were the youngest people there. I think my parents were amongst the oldest people there. What a contrast. The best part of it was that my cousin sister and I got to have TRADE tags while other grown-ups had VISITOR tags. TRADE tags were actually meant for traders but we got it since my cousin sister's mother was the Events Manager and she managed to pull some strings. The TRADE tags basically allowed us to go anywhere, even backstage. Though we weren't able to as time didn't allow it. Plus, I don't fancy seeing models change. Speaking of the models, all of them were tall and stunningly gorgeous. However, most of them were non-local except for two or three. They made me feel inadequate in almost every aspect. All of us also got VIP cards. It was simply rewarding.

The fashion show wasn't as bad as I'd thought it'd be. However, the music was deafening and my eardrums were pounding unceasingly throughout the show. The designs were all for women and there were clothes I'd only wear if I was in Mars, clothes I knew were actually pajamas, clothes that seemed like nothing, clothes that seemed too difficult to be even figured out as to how it should be worn, clothes that were not of Earth origin and clothes that looked like pumpkins. And I have to admit, I pretty much critiqued every outfit -openly and mentally- until my mother told me to stop since we were sitting very close to the camera crew who was recording the show. I'm not a fan of fashion shows and this was my first time attending a real one.

It was also the first time I heard the word fashion time and again in one sentence. We got door gifts which contained a booklet about a designer whose name escapes me and a very expensive-looking notebook. I thought my father would be very bored but he paid attention to every design throughout the fashion show and even voiced his view on the outfit he liked best. I agreed with him on that one.

My cousin sister and I took several pictures with the runway set as the background. I feel defeated to say this, but I had a blast. Except for the blaring stereos that could have been heard all the way back in my house. And the fingerfood that was too non-filling to be even considered as dinner. And the pizza-like food that I was forced to eat out of starvation.

Overall, the fashion show was not too bad, not too good. Just fine. OK, it was (suprisingly) nice. Not that I'd start attending fashion shows from now on. It was definitely a one-time thing. But I was glad I went. D'oh!


The Hand That Almost Broke

Had another 5-hours BM class this morning. I consider myself lucky to be able to even type this entry. My teacher made us jot down incessant amount of notes in such a short period of time. I am glad I was able to copy down everything as some couldn't; though my handwriting was probably illegible since I didn't pause to lift up my hand from the page. It was torturous writing non-stop and I thought my hand was going to snap into a few pieces at one time. It didn't, of course, since I'm currently typing this.

However, time passed quickly when I was in my near-death state. Please note that I am exaggerating. (I actually meant to type, deathly state. But I'm just kidding.)

The conclusion: Time flies when you feel like your hand is going to break from writing continuously.

I also received some unnerving news. There will be TWO more 5-hours BM classes before the December break. I'm just going to have to really look forward to the December break so that I can pull through the 10 agonising hours. My teacher promised to torment us in the next lesson. And believe me, she wasn't kidding. How I hope she was.


A High School Affair

I spent almost half of the day in school today wondering if people could actually die of boredom. The other half was spent on eating McDonald's, conversing with friends and playing Jonkey -Joker in replacement of Donkey since nobody brought Donkey cards. Also, I finished my storybook (superb book, supremely superb) in school today and almost dozed off in school if it weren't for my friends screaming, "She pinched my ear!" and "Give me that!" and "Aiiieee!"

My friends were playing card games I've never even heard of -Speed, Cheat, Black Jack (OK, I know this one but they weren't playing the actual one. And I don't gamble.). The only card game I could play was Jonkey (combination of Joker+Donkey). I lost in the first game. Not surprising. And I won in the second game. Surprisingly. Besides Donkey, the other three card games I know how to play are UNO, Happy Family and Goldfish. They weren't playing any of the three aforementioned. Obviously. These card games must have been introduced and played during medieval times.

My friend performed a magic card trick and she got me twice. I am slow at grasping the technique behind it even though I observed her every time she did it. My other friend figured it out after watching her do it twice. And then only did I figure it out. Thanks to my friend's explanation; not my great observational skills.

And if you're wondering why my classmates and I were allowed to play cards in school, it's because today is the second last day of school for year 2007 and the teachers were not teaching anymore; they allowed us to bring educational games -I don't know if cards are in said category. Moreover, we were too bored.


I Had A Bad Lunch Day

I had the worst lunch ever today and I am not even exaggerating. It wasn't exactly lunch. It was more like a drink; a horrid one. It tasted as bad as it looked.

I am always skeptic about the drinks my mother makes which are supposedly good for my body. The one I was forced to drink today was good for my brain; according to her. I don't know if this is true but she's standing her ground.

It looked and tasted like mud. I took nearly 25 minutes to finish the thick, grotesque and solidifying grime filled to the brim of the cup. It was so terrible I almost ralphed at one point. I would never subject this kind of torture to anyone; not even my bete noire.

After 20 minutes of downing three quarters of the chemical substance, my mother came into the kitchen with an almost gleeful look and asked if I still wanted lunch. My stomach was exploding by then. I said no. Speaking of chemicals, I learned something trivial during my Chemistry class today. Laughing gas actually does exist (I always thought it was merely used as a joke) and can actually make people laugh depending on how much a person inhales it and is actually called nitrous oxide.

Back to the mud drink as I call it; I think my brother feels as strongly as I do about this form of torment; if not more. Compared to this, vege is my Most Favourite Food. So it was that revolting. But we know she means well and does this for our own good.

If only she drank it as much as we are forced to.


My Shortcomings; My Abnormalities

I have finally come to accept my shortcomings in life. Steel yourself; these factoids might scare you. It is best to read the below at one glance without reading it back again; it would probably be very nerve wrecking for both you and me. You should also know before you start reading that my pride flew out the window the minute I typed this:

1 - I can't roll my tongue.
2 - I can't whistle.
3 - I can't blow a bubble gum.
4 - I can't wink properly.
5 - I can't light a match.
6 - I can't snap my fingers.
7 - I can't perform the hand gesture for number 3 (like this) if I don't control it since I have small hands=small fingers. My stubborn pinky would always pop up.
8 - I suck at all kinds of sports; except tennis, maybe -though my tennis skills have slowly withered over the years. So now I suck at every sport. Is channel surfing a sport?
9 - My computer doesn't have Microsoft Word ever since it was sent for overhauling and my brother doesn't want to help me install Word. This is driving me up the wall. I have to use WordPad instead. Go ahead; I give you permission to laugh/ snicker/ smirk/ guffaw/ chortle/ giggle/ snort/ chuckle/ laugh-til-you-cry. Meanwhile, my tears are tears of anguish/ pain/ sorrow/ suffering/ woe/ sadness/ grief/ misery/ gloom/ agony.
10 - I can't drive a car...yet.

OK, the last one probably wasn't so stupefying. I am, after all, sixteen going on seventeen (the permitted age to get my driving license -yes!) next year. These bewildering facts (or not) aren't bogus and are entirely true; sad but true. You could probably ask me many normal things normal people can do and I probably can't do it. I am that pathetic. And abnormal.

And did anyone count the number of times I mentioned the word probably? I did. Four. And the word can't? NINE. I think I need to read Normal Human Abilities for Dummies. But of course, it doesn't exist since I would be the one and only reader.


Kind-of-Conscientious Brother

Something is up with my brother. I think it's to do with his final semester examination which starts today. He is a last-minute person (like me, unfortunately) and if he (we) study earlier or every day, the facts just won't enter our heads. So we have to study at the eleventh hour before every exam; it's not that we do it on purpose -we suffer a lot this way- but there's no other way for us.

So, regarding what is up with my brother: He locked himself in his room all day yesterday to study.

This is not a common occurrence in my house and if something like this happens, the rest of the family just ceases the function -for a while. We banged on his door to make sure he was still breathing. Actually, my parents banged on his door to make sure he was actually studying and wasn't really using his laptop. He wasn't. His bed was covered with books and papers. I tried to suppress a gape. This was very unlike my brother.

Maybe he finally realises the importance of his university examinations. Though he didn't study (much) all the while before, he still managed to snag good grades -the injustice of it all. SO why is he doing it now? Studying extremely hard, I mean. I hope it's the dawning of an epiphany and he'll start to study daily from now on. Because university is not like high school anymore. This is his future. He'd better do well or he'll get a smack! From both my parents and me. OK, just kidding. I won't smack him. I don't know about my parents.

I couldn't wish him all the best this morning because he left early. Though I am praying that he'll succeed and do his best.


She and I

This whole week seems like Cousin Week since I have been going for family outings nearly everyday and I got to spend more time with my cousins. My cousin sister and I were chatting online yesterday and we decided to just dedicate a post to each other. So, this is for you, cousin!

A 16-year-old girl who is struggling with big love and adolescent issues, my cousin sister is a very cheerful and amiable person. She is 18 days older than me and adores the pleasant things in life like colourful ribbons, glass bottles, clover leaves, etc -the list is endless. My cousin sister has a weird penchant for dolphins even though I have told her that dolphins suffocate if they go into a full deep sleep and thus have to let one half of their brain sleep -true fact. There is one main reason (Read: A Boy) as to why she is obsessed with dolphins but I won't go into the details if I still want my head attached to my body.

Said cousin sister is my best confidant -besides my mother- since she is a girl, family, my peer and understands me well. She is also forced to accept my nutty self along with my bizarre package (my erratic traits, e.g. diverting everything we talk about to books 24-7) since blood is thicker than water. (Haha, sorry!) I think she is quite a fragile person (as opposed to me) but I wouldn't be surprised if she has an inner valour.

We both bear a very striking resemblance from the back of our heads. Moreover, we both have black hair, same height, same pair of shoes and same blouse in the same colour and pattern; yes, it's all true. Her mother even joked once that we might end up liking the same boy one day. Well, if that ever happens -it's a really big IF- I'll let her have said boy-that-might-not-even-exist and be happy; not that it'll ever happen. Truly, I'm not joking. My happiness is out of the question. (See? This is sacrifice! Again, IF it happens.)

However, there are distinct differences between us. E.g.: She has to cope with boys and/or friends problems, I cope with unclassified problems; she loves biology, I love physics; she loves poetry, I love fiction; she is very social, I am barely social; she loves vege and fruits, I don't; she isn't forced to eat vege and fruits, I am.

She is unsuspectingly fond of fairytales (here's the proof). I don't know for sure if there are happy endings in life, but I do know that there is a happy ending after life: Heaven.

Furthermore, some of her friends think we're both (twin) sisters and her real sister is the cousin though I am actually the cousin and they're the sisters.

My cousin sister is a wonderful person with a big heart and any boy (one in particular, ahem) who fails to see that is undeniably clueless. If I have one advice to give my cousin sister, it would be: Stay the way you are (character-wise, I'm not asking you to stop growing) and continue to trust God in everything you do! He knows best.

Anyway, I do thank God each day (not really every day, but occasionally) for you in my life -my confidant, my friend, my family, my cousin sister.

Don't go mushy on me because I kind of feel a little squirmy right now. This is a one-time thing, you hear me? One-time thing!

Dedicated to my extraordinary cousin sister by Justine. I meant everything I typed.

P/S: At least it's not about my brother albeit one tiny post.
PP/S: Click here for twin blog post with the same title regarding yours truly.


The Tale of a Girl Who Loathes Poems

As aforementioned, I despise poems/poetry even though I revel in reading (for the clueless, read this). All types and all kinds written by all poets; especially Shakespeare.

There is a story behind this. Read intently.

It began when I was a child; probably when I was around nine-years-old. I found a stupid fairytale book stashed at the back of a cupboard in the storeroom. Apparently, I was already bored back when I was a kid. So, I flipped it open to the first page -I can't really remember what the title of the fairytale was. The first line of a poem caught my attention. I will remember this line forever:

Where the bee stings, there sting I.

It was the first line of a poem written by none other than William Shakespeare. And I couldn't understand what it meant. I still don't understand what it means until this second.

I read it once, twice, thrice and then snapped the book shut; not bothered to even finish the rest of the 'fairytale' that was designed to confuse little girls' innocent minds with bees, stings and humans stinging like a bee. At least, these were what went through my mind then; and now.

And that was how I began to loathe poems. And hence, my hatred towards Shakespeare+other poets. No matter how hard I tried to read between the lines of the poems -as my English teacher told me to- I can never get the hidden meaning. Maybe it's because I'm slow in grasping the correct technique of deciphering poems or it's because I'm oblivious. Or maybe it's because I just flat-out detest poems. Or maybe it's all three.

The end.

Adapted from a true story.


My Body Ache, Words of Wisdom and Peculiar Trait

I had a 5-hours class today. It was excruciatingly uncomfortable since I had to endure sitting on a chair with limited movement because there were seats for about 150 students but about 200 students showed up so the whole place was congested and crammed. My limbs were burning and aching by the end of the class. It still is. Ow.

I went to a friend's house for a Deepavali dinner celebration. The curry was spicy and hot. Yum! After that, I followed my parents for an extended family dinner at a steamboat restaurant in a mall. Since I was stuffed from the dinner at my friend's house, I stayed at the bookshop and browsed through some books. As I was on my way to another bookshop, I bumped into my cousin brother and aunt. I accompanied them for their dinner and only drank water. Yum. Also, I gave my cousin brother some words of wisdom. Or that's what I think it was. It was probably just mumbling to him.

A promoter at the mall approached and persuaded me to sign up for their credit card line. I am still underage to own one so I must have looked mature or older than my age. I prefer to think of myself as the former.

I just realised that I have a weird trait about doing what I'm thinking instead of doing what I'm supposed to do. For example, I entered the bathroom this evening to wash my face but somehow I was thinking about teeth. Yes, teeth -I have no idea why. And I ended up brushing my teeth instead of washing my face. I was halfway through it when what I was doing hit me and I blurted out laughing. It was not a good move since there was still toothpaste in my mouth. I sputtered.

Another incident was the time when I texted my cousin sister on my handphone. The subject I was typing about was my father; something about him being on his way to pick me up to pick my cousin to go somewhere. I ended up sending the message to my father instead of my cousin sister and had to resend it to my cousin sister as well as apologise to my father for the confusion. There wasn't any mockery involved, I assure you. The same thing happened with another friend.

I fear that I will do something terribly wrong someday.


What A Wack Day

I bought two new storybooks today and am currently on cloud nine. However, I couldn't use my book voucher since it was a different bookstore. Still, nothing can wipe the perpetual smile off my face.

I had a great time with my cousins at the new but hideously boring mall. I was horrified when I couldn't find the name of any bookshop on the directory. Fortunately, my cousin found it and it was located on the highest floor. We zoomed there instantly. Or rather, I zoomed there instantly.

After spending hours at the bookstore, we (my two cousin sisters and I) rounded the floors of the mall while my cousin brother tailed behind us. I felt sympathetic for him since he had to endure our crazy behaviour and rantings. I am truly sorry for my terrible demeanour, i.e. staying at the bookshop for an eternity. I really have to cut down on the time I spend at bookstores; I think it's driving people crazy sometimes.

The 10 of us (dad, extended family and I) had dinner at a seafood restaurant. Every dish that arrived was to my distaste, unfortunately. And it seemed like the best dish of the night for me was vege. Imagine, vege! My most abhorred food is vegetables (and fruits) -explanation here. Thankfully, in the end, my wonderful aunt ordered 2 more dishes which were finger licking good. The bill amounted to RM600. Yes, let's gape together. There was one dish which costs RM200 and tasted like rubber. It is an aquatic being called geoduck. I have my suspicions about its edibility.

It is close to midnight and I have a 5-hours Bahasa Malaysia language class tomorrow -no! My mother will also be arriving back from overseas tomorrow -yes! My brother will be having his semester examination next week -no comment.


Blissful Book Vouchers

My mother gave me a Borders book voucher she snipped from the newspaper/magazine/some reading material. It states: EXCLUSIVE FOR BOOK LOVERS! Enjoy RM15 off when you purchase a minimum of RM100 at Borders.

Have you ever read any more beautiful words? I'm being a little dramatic but because storybooks are sold at an exorbitant price and this makes me go broke constantly, these are just sweet delightful words; well, to me.

I assume that this is my mother's consent to purchase storybooks worth RM100 or more -using her money. But my assumptions are always wrong so I guess I have to quickly save up to buy the books.

I might be going book-shopping with my cousin sisters tomorrow since it is a public holiday here in conjunction with Deepavali.

The perfect gift to give a bookworm, in my opinion, is a book voucher. I mean, what other better gift is there -besides books itself? It is close to arduous to get the perfect book for a book lover since he/she might already have it or might not like it.

So you see. Book vouchers are just sweet pleasant little papers which can delight the faintest hearts. I am, of course, referring to avid readers' hearts.


Doubt Much?

I doubt. A lot. About everything.

I've just finished my Accounts homework and I have a story about my doubts to convey.

My knowledge on the subject Accounts sucks; both literally and hypothetically. So while I was doing my homework given by my accounts teacher, I decided to use a pencil instead of a pen (using pen is mandatory for any work done). I was afraid that I'd make ample amount of mistakes and would have to do a double job. So I decided to use a pencil to do it, and then erase it and use a pen when everything was done correctly.

Expecting lots of mistakes, I was dismally surprised and a little pissed to find that I didn't make a single mistake. Literally. I was impressed with myself, truly. I am always bad when it comes to Accounts.

So then I erased the pencil work and wrote over it with a pen. Sure, I was over the moon about doing a flawless Accounts homework for the first time; and probably the only time. But I was doing a double job. Pfft!

Aren't doubt and vigilance pretty much the same? Being extra-cautious sometimes seems doubtful. Though I think that I am the latter. Or the former? I'm not really sure. I'm doubting now.

OK, I'm the latter: doubtful. No doubt about it. (Haha. Pun intended!)


Semi Computer Addict

It's official. I'm a semi computer addict; apart from my usual addiction: books. Noooo. How did I get this far? I am slowly following my brother's footsteps and this is a bad sign. He never shuts his laptop off and always sleeps late but wakes up early to use his laptop. How he manages to maintain his distinctions and high distinctions in university is beyond me.

How did I find out that I'm a half computer addict? I realised a while ago when I was using the computer and it was raining outside. The drift is that there were clothes hung outside and my mother specifically told me to collect it if it was raining. It was raining and I was still chatting with my friends on MSN messenger, oblivious. Finally, the cleaner next door screamed for me and I quickly ran back and forth to collect the not completely soaked clothes. I am thankful that my mother hasn't slit my throat. Yet.

Also, the first thing I do everyday when I get back from school is: turn on the computer. But I am not as bad as my brother since I actually shut my computer off and get enough rest.

Still. I refuse to let it control my life and daily routines. I refuse, I refuse.


A Little Bit of Beach and Books

I bought two new storybooks yesterday at MPH Bookstores and am still in a state of contentment. Seriously. This is part of the side effects of storybooks on me.

Also, I took a stroll on the beach this morning with my cousins for the first time. I am an introvert and have never really enjoyed outdoor activities; like walking on the beach, for example. When I stepped foot into the sand, I tried to avoid getting sand on my slippers but after several failed attempts, I gave up and slid my slippers off.

We stood on the sand; our feet soothed and caressed by the low tides of the ocean. We also wrote our names on the sand -this is a must-do on the beach, isn't it?- and snapped pictures of ourselves, posing and trying to look like we were having the time of our lives as the scorching sun burned our skin. My cousin collected seashells while I had fun experimenting with footprints on the sand and a myriad of photos concerning our flip-flops.

All these may sound cheesy but I actually had a marvelous time with my cousins. I think most of it had to do with the fact that my cousin sisters were with me. I can't bear to think of going to the beach with-

I can't bear typing it as well. But all these don't mean that I'll be going to the beach anytime soon. I'd rather snuggle up on a book and indulge myself with it. Much better, more rewarding and simply enjoyable.

I think it is my cue to go and peruse my new and fresh storybooks now.


Malacca, Me No Like

I am currently on a 3-days vacation with my family, my cousin's family and my aunt and uncle from Australia. The vacation spot? Malacca. This is probably my umpteenth time coming here and I'd have bawled my eyes out if it weren't for my cousins' company. Ever since I was a kid, my family would come here thrice a year and this place has become my nightmare since it is extremely boring and despicable to me now. So my cousins being here would definitely alleviate my boredom.

There are 9 of us altogether and there are only 7 beds altogether in the hotel room. So two people would have to sleep on the couches. My brother and I volunteered since there was Disney Channel on TV and we can watch it for hours on end. However, it was futile that I even tried to have a good sleep since my mother and my aunts were having a long chit chat on the other couch close to mine. I could hear every word and my mind wouldn't sleep. My biggest mistake was not bringing my ear plugs and eye mask/patch for sleeping purposes. I'll remember that next time.

In the end, my brother and I ended up sleeping on the beds in the room whilst my parents slept on the couches.

I woke up early this morning. I'm usually not a morning person but this is what Malacca does to me. See why I hate it so much?

Anyway, we're waiting for everyone to get out of bed, bathe and change so we can leave for lunch and then head to the mall! It's not that I'm excited about going to a mall I've been to countless times; I merely can't wait to get my hands on a new storybook to peruse!

I hear people eating and talking as well as a Disney Channel advertisement. Gotta go.


A SpongeBob SquarePants Tribute

The following is a SpongeBob SquarePants haiku I produced out of sheer boredom. It's pretty lame but so is SpongeBob.

I like,
He's yellow,
Spongy, and
I like,

Hope you enjoyed the meaningless poem-like haiku; it isn't exactly a poem.

I have to admit, SpongeBob fascinates me. Especially his deadpan and monotonous voice and infectious but bizarre laughter. I also enjoy the company of his pink starfish friend who constantly wears the same pants, Patrick. He reminds me of my brother -goofy and clueless. And he also wears the same pants most of the time; but only at home, fortunately.

Other cartoons which capture my attention: Dexter's Laboratory, Ranma 1/2 (anime), Rugrats and Mr. Bean (the cartoon).

However, these are mere memories since my dad removed the cartoon channels on TV after my brother and my school grades deteriorated. He also took away the Play Station which is currently collecting dust in his office. This was all back in year 2000. We eventually grew out of begging him to put the channels back on. Also, we grew up. But there's no harm in maintaining a child at heart.


Third Time Lucky

I just found out my position in class today based on my finals results. And...I got third. For the third time this year. And probably for the seventh time in high school. Am I bored of getting third place? No. I am very contented with my placing in class. Besides, I am practising my 3Bs: Be Humble, Be Thankful, Be Happy.

You know what they say: Third time's a charm. So snagging third for the third time should be charm squared? Doubtful.

My genius friend got first -again. This was probably the billionth time she got first. That smarty pants. But I am pretty sure she isn't bored with #1 and good for her. Congratulations as well!

Follow-up from yesterday: The jab didn't hurt but my brother kept complaining that it was painful because the doctor accidentally injected his bone. Whatever. Also, the English oral went suprisingly well. I've got an hour before my physics test today. Yikes.