Happy New Year Malaysia!

May 2005 be a blessed year for you and your loved ones!

Worms World Party

First they discovered the torch and the pneumatic drill and then they discovered girders. This is how chickens play Worms. There's almost more terrain than they started out with. Mountains have been hollowed out and all kinds of shafts, even with protective shoring, have been constructed throughout the map.

It's early early in the morning and I'm waiting for them to finish. I'm not bitter about getting kicked out first, just that Darren threw a frickin Holy Grenade and wiped out five worms in one shot, two from Team Swoosh, Two from Han's Team, and one from K9, which left me completely exposed, after which the true carnage started.

Oh good, sudden death has just kicked in. Finally.

New Year Disillusion

What with 2005 right around the corner, we're still reeling from the sheer number of lives snatched from this very Earth four days ago, so I'm not sure there is much to reason to party away this weekend.

I suppose we could celebrate that the world has come through sort of intact, if you consider a heightened sense of fear something to be pleased about. We've spent the whole year looking over our shoulder for the next terrorist attack, incendiary or biological, and now we can quite happily stroll down the street ready to dart into the nearest door way ahead of the next raging wall of water or earthquake that comes along. We're still waiting for Vesuvius to erupt and now the Mediterranean is at risk of tsunamis as well. I think the paranoia is building so quickly that we should all live in bubbles, indestructible, titanium-reinforced plastic bubbles.

I'm actually not completely ungrateful for the world in which we live. I mean my family and friends have come through the year healthy and well and I'm very thankful for that. I still have all the limbs I started out with, all my fingers and toes, and my psyche's more or less intact.

Actually, I'm not sure there's much direction in this post, it's just that I'm still really mad that there wasn't any kind of warning system, not even a few tin cans and some string.

Woe is me

The hot water and heating has died again on what feels like the coldest day of the whole year. I guess everyone deals with it differently. Weng looks like he's about to embark on an Arctic expedition, there he is, making his 'To-bring' list, and Darren goes into hibernation. Yes, Darren really is under there.

Yiddish 101

What started out as fluid mechanics revision has turned into a crash course in a foreign language. Darren's back from Manchester with a heavy bag but very light wallet. He's not the only one who's struggling with a short term (I hope) cash flow problem, but that's just depressing, so we won't go there.

All the guys in our flat will be sporting a cropped look by tomorrow evening. The only one not yet on the bandwagon is Lawrence or Hanwen - I don't know what to call him anymore. Weng's gone for a Calvin and Hobbs look while Darren's tried to go 'Almost Army' but it's really more like 'Very Primary School'. We'll see what Hanwen comes up with to match these obviously cutting-edge New Year hairstyles.

It's back to blogging for entertainment. I've given up on Rome, it's lost its appeal for me, so I guess it's back to Gunbound or Text Twist until something better comes along. Oh right, studying.

From London with love

I'm finally home, we managed to muster the will power and energy to scrape ourselves out of the comfortable butt-shaped dents in Tishen's couch and at his dining table to come back to London. So I guess it's back to meal-planning, grocery shopping, and endeavouring to do work.

Ran into Young and Hsiang at Waterloo, totally random. They look good after a week's romp in sunny Spain. Hsiang's place is now kinda like the rest of his life, predominantly female, what with his 'in-laws' and Young's girlfriend visiting. +lol+

I can't believe I'm due back at school in less than a week. The holiday barely started! I'm even more afraid because I haven't done anything remotely productive... mg, you must be as tired of it as I am, hearing me gripe about work all year around, so I thank you for your patience. It's back to football right now though, yay for Soccernet Gamecast.

Tomorrow: Join the Covent Garden shopping melee.

Sale! Sale! Sale!

I spent four hours being bumped around, drifting in and out of shops to the tune of the crowd. There was no other way, it was like a diffusion experiment gone berserk, and trying to forge your own route across the packed highstreet often meant that you had to spend five minutes standing on the other side waiting to regroup while massaging a kicked ankle.

Hanging out with Tish and Weng in a shopping arcade in the middle of the biggest sale of the year is irony in its purest form. I think that's why we should shop alone. I felt bad for even thinking about going into shops because they'd stand around the ladies department, fighting for air, and generally being useless. Shoe shops were even worse, and they quickly caught on and refused to let me drift towards them. So the day ended with Weng with a bag of Gap stuff, Tish with three birthday cards, and me with nothing. So come Wednesday, I'm going again.

I think this is how England's economy survives, the twice a year mega sale where enough money is spent to save the entire African continent but instead goes to flouncy tops and garish coats (that you wouldn't normally touch with a three foot stick) because they're such a bargain.

Then got talked into staying another night in Weybridge because it's not good to go home in the dark. I knew it was going to happen +lol+

Mother Nature scores 8.9

Before today, the idea of earthquakes never really crossed anyone's mind, especially in KL. Looking at the devastation in Sri Lanka, Thailand, and Madras, you start to worry about the obvious lack of preparedness in all these countries. The pictures coming through tonight are frightening: the injured, the dead, the rising death toll.

But who would've thought? Earthquakes? In KL? Nah, you must be joking. Earthquakes only happen in Japan. I mean S.E. Asia sits right next to an enormous fault line, and no one ever thinks about this. Everyone's worrying about national security instead, against terrorists, against manipulating diplomats...

I guess it goes to show how little we can take forgranted. My thoughts are with so many friends right now who've been hit even closer to heart and home.

Gluttony

I've never eaten so much. The meal took about three hours, and it looked like we hadn't made a dent in the spread. So essentially we've had one meal today, and after messing around with their home-casino set, we're up in Tishen's room setting up his new tv. By 'we' I mean Weng and Tish. They're rearranging his stereo and subwoofer and all that stuff.

I'm exhausted, I think from eating, and I'd like to think that I've burnt more calories eating than what I've actually eaten. Ha ha. Fat hope. According to Jonathan Ross, you'd have to walk from London to Calais to work off the 'average' Christmas lunch/dinner. With what I managed to get down, I'd have to walk all the way back to KL. I know for sure that my next webcam conversation with my mum's going to start with "Oh my gawwd, you're so fat!", exactly the same way the last one started, which sent Shiv into fits. In my defence, the chubby cheeks are inherited.

Christmas Day Lunch 2004

To start:

Seafood Platter
Waldorf Salad

Main Courses:

Traditional Roast Turkey
Roast Gammon
Green Curry (Turkey)
Chicken Satay

Accompaniments:

Wild Rice
Roast Potatoes
Chestnut, Cranberry, and Forcemeat Stuffing
Bacon & Liver Croutons
Vegetables

To Finish:

Mascarpone Trifle
Yule Log
Mince Pies
Carrot Cake
Iced Fruit Cake
Austrian Coffee Cake

Tea & Coffee

* * *

We just stopped eating.

Merry Christmas

Here's wishing you a Merry Christmas and a beautiful day filled with all the love and happiness possible. Stay safe, tell everyone how much you love them, and give to your heart's content! God bless!

6 degrees

It's such a small world, and this is what Christmas is really all about. I saw some college friends again. Priceless, just like the ad says. I suppose it takes one guy from Canada to bring people who live in the same city together. For all the public transport services available in London, I haven't seen my college friends in close to a year and a half, and now that I talk to them, it suddenly turns out that my network of friends seems to be growing tighter and tighter. Someone recently met someone who's going out with someone who I went to school with. Things like that, which makes me think that the 6 degrees of separation is now more like 4 or 4-1/2.

It's technically Christmas Day in 25mins, I'm at Tishen's with Weng, and, as is tradition in our family, my sister texted from Singapore at four o'clock in the afternoon and told me that she'd taken second-by-second photos documenting the opening of my Christmas present from my aunt (my aunt gives awesome presents) so it'd be 'like I was really there'. I'll be getting the pictures on Monday. So sweet.

Presents chalked up so far: Gap jumper, from Weng. It's ousted the AX sweater from its number one spot. I shall wear it all the time!

Feeling: Glad to be at Tishen's because it's forced us away from Rome for at least the next 48hours, and this is as close as it gets to home over here.

Christmas Eve update

I'm sorry I haven't been posting with my usual fervency, Weng and I have been playing Rome for the past three days, taking turns to conquer as much as we can in two hour slots. It's not as bad as it sounds. When I've been forcefully wrenched from the computer after my time's up, I go straight to work before kicking Weng off two hours later. He, on the otherhand, plays for two hours, then watches me play for another two hours.

You can see why girls are so much better at handling addictions, we can switch right on and off so that we're not totally incapacitated by a game 24/7. (I'm taking up his precious Rome time right now.)

Anyhow, you can probably imagine that by one thirty in the morning, it's an effort for him to uncross his eyes, so we go to bed, only to start the vicious cycle all over again 10 hours later.

Oh, except for today, when we managed to make it past Sainsbury's and actually do some Christmas shopping. Lasted all of four and a half hours before Rome withdrawal symptoms (RWS) kicked in.

Okay, I have to go, I'm being whinged at for taking up his precious Rome time...

I should be working

So this is how the week's been going:

It's 90-10 to Rome:Total War. I can't believe I didn't do more to stop him installing it at Tishens. You don't need to be a psychic to know the chaos it'll cause in the work schedule (work schedule? what work schedule?).

Every morning, the instant I've gotten up, my thoughts start marching infront of my eyes

1. Work, ah shiet, still haven't done anything. I'm going to die come next week, should've started earlier...
2. Laundrylaundrylaundrylaundry...
3. What's for breakfast/lunch/dinner...
4. Damn, it's cold outside...
5. Rome: Total war, I still have to take that Gaulish town...
6. Gotta tidy up, so messy already....
7. Get Weng outta bed, gotta get him out of bed...
8. Still no work done...
9. Have to buy Christmas presents...
10. Gotta do work +sob+

It's supposed to be a holiday. The stress is creeping up already.

Worn to the bone

The first weekend of the Christmas break and we were up til 3.15am from Sunday night... was it a good party, you ask? Yes, if you like detergents and Weng going 'Huh?! You call that clean?!' for four and a half hours.

It took the three of us that long to clean and arrange the kitchen, our tiny corridor of a kitchen, and since we've put so much effort into it, no one's to use it, ever. The same goes for the toilet too.

I single handedly braved the limescale, the drainhair, and the waterline (in the bathtub!!) to get the place spotless.

Neurotic? No. Not us. The place is finally habitable. Last week's trash is no longer hanging out with the invasion of shoes, and the corridor actually smells...okay. No more embarrassing "yea, we're supposed to clean up last week..."-type excuses when friends come around, and no more being able to keep a dietary record using the kitchen stove.

I feel good. Oh, and it's four days to Christmas!

@Tishen's

Friday night at Tishen's: It started out as Dead Gin but quickly degenerated into making towers with bits of fruit and nut.



Saturday night: Love Actually (what a soppy movie) and a lot of Rome: Total war and football, omg, the football +sigh+

Sunday: Liverpool beat Newcastle 3-1

Monopoly madness

"But I don't know how to play," She claimed, before trouncing everybody. I thought Darren would run away with it at one point, or that Weng and Tish would K.O. early on in the game because they didn't have anything, but oh, how the tables can turn, and Fong May quite happily sat there on all her money.

Played taboo from about one half, then monopoly until five. For me anyway, after getting knocked out an hour before everyone else. +lol+

Lack of sleep made this morning's rush to catch the train to Weybridge not so much a rush as a stumble across London to Waterloo. We missed the train twice, I mean while waiting at Waterloo. Random stuff.

Wrapping presents in top secret and watching t.v. for most of the afternoon has got us to this point. Going to play Yahoo Graffiti now, so tired! But there's chicken rice later! And the Chipmunk's album is on, kinda reminds me of Ben Ng at the 2000 prom, the '01 prom, our graduation prom... that was a lot of helium.

Txet Tsiwt

We're hooked on text twist. I guess it's because after I whomped Weng TWICE in monopoly and started to win in Taboo as well (and everybody knows I never win), we've decided to stop playing against each other and work together instead, so we stayed up late with a hot cup of mocha and a bunch of grapes trying to beat our highscore.

Which brings me to right now. I've climbed the 68 stairs to his room four times already, and about to head back down to walk to the station in five minutes. Going to watch RatPack tonight! I'm so excited, it's been ages since I watched a musical here!

Probably going to follow Tish back to Weybridge *again* tomorrow! (Hey Tish, I just thought I'd let you know!) I love that place. I love being there, so it'll be another unstressed weekend! With a bit of work, because I'm from IC, and a week wouldn't be right without some work. (I actually forgot how to write after last weekend.)

Also going to say bye to everyone leaving tomorrow and this weekend, most of them going home, a few of them going to Spain, and while everyone else heads south for the winter, we'll also be saying bye to the only one who's heading north this Christmas, to Manchester. +lol+

To my ohana

There's something heartwarming about emails coming in at the most random times from the most random people you once knew long ago. People who've made such an impact on your life but many of you whom you left without ever expecting to see again.

The KSIIS mailing group brings back the sultry nights, the gorgeous views, the hauntings, and all the laughs and sharing of three incredible weeks in an incredibly beautiful place. Then it gets you wondering about where they all are now, all over the States, all over Asia, having fun, stressing out, everyone looking forward to going home. I miss the smiles and the aloha's, I miss my ohana. I look at the pictures every so often, but not too often because it only seems to remind me how far away the memories are getting, how difficult it is to recall the music, the voices, the very people I promised to never forget. Everything feels so long ago.

The same goes with old friends who've headed south to do their degrees or decided to take other paths. Paths that lead away from the rest of us. It almost makes you want to cling tighter to those around you, so that they won't leave too.

But they're all still in my thoughts, no matter if they're five miles or five thousand away from me. I feel honored to be able to call such special people my friends. They may be far away, but they're most certainly never forgotten.

Back in Southampton

Oh, you'll never guess where we went today...wait for it, wait for it...Toys 'R' Us (!) Total boredom drove us to it, because it was about four thirty and we had run out of things to do. Weng's sense of freedom was renewed after handing in his assignment, as was his hyperness and good mood, and we were pretty much looking at each other like those two idiot vultures in The Jungle Book. So we walked to Toys 'R' Us and came away with The Simpson's Monopoly and Taboo. (Cheryl, are you jealous?)

Naturally, on the way there and back we ran into virtually everyone Weng knew in So'ton, so there was a lot of shuffling of feet, trying to manoeuver the huge, ungainly polythene bag behind our legs.

Taboo's SO fun though! And we're definitely bringing back all the games to Flat 8 to share with the rest of them before the term's out. It feels like Christmas already, and I know we need a boardgame back home. Endless rounds of gin and tai-di pushed the point home last night.

How'd the computing test go? What computing test? Forgotten about it already! Now I just gotta get rid of all those holiday assignments too...

Sharing the joy of Christmas

There's no real way to say 'Merry Christmas' than with toilet rolls and a radiator, and no way to really appreciate the thought than to have to sit there and look at them for want of a book or other reading material. 'Tis the season to love, give, and recycle.

Created by Shiv.

My point exactly

So Darren and Fong May are braving the cold in an effort to hunt and gather. Therefore, Han Wen's been unanimously voted as washer up for tonight, only we haven't told him yet. Flat 8 is a republic, just like the little island most of us hail from, i.e. everything's put to a vote, or else.

There was a discount coupon lying on the kitchen counter, and I'm being generous calling it a kitchen counter, because it's more like 50-square-cm of faux-slate formica laminate half covered in bottled sauces and sticky stuff that glues all the bottles into their neatly arranged rows. Not sure what the sticky stuff is yet, haven't had the guts to find out. Anyhow, this isn't about the horrors that inhibit our kitchenesque corridor, so we'll get back to the discount coupon.

This coupon gives you a discount of 50p on Dolmio pasta. Not a bad deal when you're buying um, maybe enough for your hamster, but naturally, there are conditions, which are as follows:

"To the consumer:
Hand in this coupon (not a copy) at any participating Sainsbury's store where it will be accepted as part-payment (50p) towards the bona fide retail purchase of one 220g pouch of Dolmio Filled Pasta. Only one coupon per transaction. Please do not attempt to redeem this coupon against any other product, as refusal to accept may cause embarrassment and delay at the checkout. Valid until: 31/01/02."

Talk about a disclaimer.

Five days more

We're finally in the last leg of the Autumn term here at IC. I won't talk about Warwick, Cambridge, or Oxford who all broke up a week or two earlier. But oh boy does this Monday bring a sigh of relief. Only a short one though, seeing as it's been cut short by the five assignments we have hanging over our heads this holiday.

Urgh, time management. Out comes the planner again. There's something totally zen about going crazy with a read marker pen on little white numbered boxes. It makes you feel like you're doing something useful even though you'll forget where you've put it by tomorrow and that it doesn't really consitute as work. Oh well. You know how it goes, an afternoon of alternative fuels will be swiftly replaced by an afternoon of iceskating, shopping, dinner, and watching a movie...

I think we're going to have to start drawing straws for the honour of going grocery shopping and washing up. Everyone's more than happy to cook, but not so enthusiastic about heading out in 2degree weather to buy the food to cook with. And no one ever wants to wash up.

A quickie

I'm out at Weybridge again, at Tishen's, which is the nearest thing you can get to home on this side of the world. Hsiang, Young, Cassie, and Junlinn made the trip out this morning too.

I absolutely refuse to talk about the Merseyside derby, so moving swiftly onwards, his puppies are growing so quickly. They've almost doubled in size since I last saw them. So everything is pretty much ow owned by a couple of terrors that spend half the time sleeping and the other half crashing around, chewing plants, and generally making noise. Now you should ask whether I was referring to the puppies...

I might actually get to watch The Incredibles later. They're watching Bridget Jones 2 right now, but I'm here listening to Weng stress about his group project. I thought he'd like some company.

Slightly worried about the computing test on Tuesday, but I can feel that melting away somewhat. It's hard to stress out here, it's all too peaceful.

On the doorstep of Saturday

And so the saga continues. It's become a daily thing. Weng and I'll check the tag-board three or four times to see if there are any more highly creative tags that need to be deleted, and then to hypothesize on the identity of the freak. I think s/he's too embarrassed to come out in the open about it now because of the level of purility to which they've sunk. But oh well...

I can't walk to school today because of an absolutely crippling stomach ache. How convenient that the pain demands that I sit up hunched over to stop it, so I am, at my computer, and Weng's looking after me and going grocery shopping and cooking lunch.

Erm, otherwise, Cheryl's bugging me to download Skype. 'Why?', I asked. 'Because it's free,' she said, in true Singaporean fashion. Actually more so that I can talk to everyone at home, after they come back from watching Polar Express on IMAX, but yea, essentially for free.

I'll be back later, have to go call in the Biological Weapons Squad to exterminate the seething mass of microorganisms that started out as a week-old bag of bananas.

For the anti-ash

If you hadn't noticed by now over the last week or so an absolute coward has started a kind of one-way slagging match on my tagboard. I've gathered, from the overall tone of the tags, that saying s/he doesn't really like me is kind of an understatement. It's so completely random.

I mean fine, I know I'm not a saint, and I'm pretty sure I can be quite a bitch, but I was also pretty certain that those days were behind me, like way behind me, and, like a lot of people out there, of course I'm trying to be a better person. I don't mind resolving any issues if s/he would actually come out and explain what they don't like about me, but it's hard to apologise for anything if I'm just getting a whole bunch of obscenities hurled in my direction.

So you see, at the moment's it's become a kind of deadlock. S/he'll usually make my day with at least three posts in reference to the canine species and intercourse, and I'll delete them. It's not like I have anything better to do, and I'm quite happy to keep on deleting them, but whoever it is is starting to really upset my friends.

If you really hate me, my blog, and my 'oh-so-prettyness', then why do you keep coming here? If you really need to slag me off, why don't you give yourself a bit more room, set up a blog at www.ihateash.com or whatever, and post to your heart's content? You even have my permission to link my page, I'd appreciate the hits. I'll even tell you that harboring all this maliciousness isn't going to give you good karma or get you laid, so it'd be a lot more positive to just let it go.

And no, I don't want to kiss your ass, thankyouverymuch.

The beautiful game

Liverpool rock! They're through, baby! Omg, I can't believe it. I had all but given up hope when Olympiakos scored. What a come back! Epic match! We Win! Yay!

Photo courtesy of Soccernet.com

From the tallest tower

I think that the best Pringles flavour ever invented is Sour Cream n Onion. It's such a classic, but while it's all good for breakfast and everything, the breath it leaves you with is enough to make sure that you'll be walking alone for a while or at the very least not talking. People might even ask you to refrain from breathing...

So anyway, I've spent the morning surfing, blogging, in the shower, eating, and blogging, oh, and also dodging the guilt of skipping class and not working. I hate that my Jimminey Cricket comes with a sledgehammer instead of an umbrella.

I feel like watching a cartoon. Weng's Winamp has hit the Disney tracks. Haven't had the chance to see any new ones lately, but right now The Emperor's New Groove would just about hit the spot. Still can't wait to see The Incredibles...

Ah bugger, I knew it's never a good idea talking to Tom +lol+, our conversations always leave me with more work to do, or at least the threat of another deadline. It seems that while our pump designs (and ours is all wrong) are being approved and CNC-d, they've decided to give us another group project due the third week of next term on swing bridges (what are swing bridges?) just to keep us occupied. Like there's not enough work as it is. +Grr+

And then there were two

He was in shock, and so was I. I couldn't believe that I had made it right to his door. I couldn't believe that I had got on the right bus, walked down the right street, and that he didn't have to come and rescue me from the docks or something. I couldn't believe that I had gotten on the right train out of Waterloo. He couldn't believe I was actually here.

I know, for once, I managed to surprise someone perfectly, even if it did involve fighting the constant urge to call or text him and spring it early the whole way here. Awesome stuff. I managed to bang on the door and catch the attention of a couple of his flatmates who let me in, and they were just as excited as I was about surprising him. So we knocked on his door, he very cautiously stepped out, and he just stood there in complete silence, the complete personification of 'Huh? What?'. And for sooo long too! But that's okay, because the silence was followed by about twenty minutes of 'Oh my goodness'.

So anyway, here I am, in Southampton. With the way he talked about how cold it is here, I though it'd be snowing, but um, no. They do have really big colourful birds here though, not just pigeons, and you can hardly hear the traffic above the sound of the subwoofers.

Feels like Tuesday

This is my third attempt at posting. My previous two posts were almost exactly the same and about something that actually wasn't totally self-centered or whiny, for once, but they got brutally rejected and deleted by an "Internal error" message from blogger.com. Anyhow, hopefully it'll be third time lucky...

We're trying to make our last deadline of the term at the moment, trying to get together a complete set of drawings, a bill of materials, and a report before tomorrow. Apparently it's supposed to be up to standard and comprehensive enough that if the shop packet was faxed to another country, they'd be able to make the pump without hesitation. I have to tell you though, I'm pretty damn hesitant about us being able to make that thing next term, but we'll cross that chasm when we get to it. I think my group mates are great though, they're so dedicated that I felt really guilty leaving at 9.20pm, but I had to get home. Nothing to eat all day was starting to really take it's toll.

The last computing tutorial of the year is tomorrow. Yay! I'll happily admit that I'm crap at programming. Hopefully I can pull a miracle during the test next week; just a pass, that's all I want.

Seventeen days and counting

So we saw Cassie last night. She'd pretty much just got in from Heathrow before was out the door again to Chinatown for dinner. I think she'd been in tourist mode from the airport, because it wasn't long before she was posing next to the bustop sign in anticipation of catching a picture with a London bus. Took a break at Hsiang's after dinner, and was going to wait for Young to arrive at about 11.30, but couldn't take it, had to go home and sleep.

Last night the London Underground was completely owned by large groups of rowdy guys and tipsy girls, making everyone else cower in expectation of a high-spirited drunken riot amidst staggering bodies and crushed toes, especially since the train driver was just as anxious to get his round over with.

Spent Friday night at Evan's in Richmond. That was fun, right up to about Monopoly, because Tish and I were disposed quite quickly, and Evan battled gallantly before conceding defeat. Weng was too lucky...or was he? Actually enjoyed British television prior to that, although I wasn't too impressed with Jonathan Ross, who's uniqueness is completely dependent on his inability to pronounce his 'r's and his awful awful mullet, which actually doesn't make him all that special I suppose.

I'm absolutely desperate for the holidays to start, but for now I'll take comfort in a pint of BnJs chocolate fudge brownie and some strawberries. I can't believe Aaron's on the way home, that he'll be in beautifully warm weather surrounded by good food and a car by this time tomorrow.

New addiction

Halo's taken over our flat. I feel like throwing up. I, of everybody on this earth, am the most poorly suited to such 'run around and shoot everybody' games. Therefore, after the first night of comprehensive carnage, the kills stand at

Ash : 2 (Both of which were Darren)
Weng : 8
Han wen : A gazillion (Me)
Darren : A gazillion and three (Me, me, and me)

I spent more time rejoining the game than actually trying to kill people. It's so hard to make out what are trees and what aren't, and how are you supposed to shoot someone in the head when they're jumping around like moon men. The only decent chance I have of lasting more than 20 seconds comes in the form of those little hover crafts that have unlimited ammo or something. But the second I pick one up, someone's either shot me in the head or Darren goes and gets another and guns me down.

I don't know how these guys can aim at anything. Climbing ladders and jumping off hills makes me feel like I'm on the spin cycle of a green-grey wash, and even after I switched from a shocking pink suit to something more camo-y, like grey, they STILL managed to unerringly pick me out every time. 'K9 killed Ash', 'Han killed Ash', and 'WENG killed Ash' flashed on screen at regular intervals of, oh, about 10 seconds.

Fantastic adrenaline rush, but I spent too much time dying than actually enjoying the game.

Skiving

Yes, I feel really bad, and I felt really bad through the whole night, so bad in fact that I did not sleep well because my conscience was shatting on me, and actually woke up half an hour earlier than the alarm. Tried to oversleep, but with similar results, so finally scraped myself out of bed half an hour later, by which time it was too late to get ready for the nine o'clock class.

It started last night though. I was trying to 'conveniently forget' to set my alarm clock, but I felt guilty and caved. Then Weng was talking to me about skipping class, and he endorsed the move, I guess to make him feel better for him skipping his class earlier this week...

So anyhow, I've justified it with the promise of doing work. But I don't think that's working either because I'm here blogging, and my sister's MSN bar is flashing like crazy about some guy or another. Our once weekly conversations are usually filled with news about some poor sod who she's rejected or messed up. She dishes out so much counselling that she needs it herself, but that's what a big sister is for, that and being a punching bag.

Christmas is coming, and while it's great that I'll finally be able to spend my first Christmas with Weng, I really miss home and my family and my dog.

Newsflash

Man Utd is 1-0 up on Arsenal which means poor Vikas might have to see them lose another time in seven days. Liverpool and Tottenham are still 0-0.

Darren and FM are cooking and it smells wonderful. Boy, do they know how to get Brahim's just right! Oh and omlette too! We go through about 25 eggs a week. That's pretty scary stuff right there. We managed to account for it though, and it's not as bad as it sounds, but we still haven't found out who's been eating the toilet paper or all the butter.

Weng's been rendered mugless, which makes my Christmas shopping a lot easier. His GIS (crappy crappy) mug cracked when he poured hot water into it, so now he wants something bigger (so typically male) like Hanwen's massive Starbucks tankard-thing. He also wants something cooler. I guess his highschool branded mug didn't quite stand up to the likes of LSE or Daffy duck.

I can't wait til he comes in tomorrow!
Oh and Cassie's due Saturday too. She's bringing winter supplies, thankfully. The Yorkian and a few Warwickians are also coming in this weekend. It should be great, if only I didn't have a deadline...

This is because...

I am really bored. I have given up trying to Word process my lab report because it's taking way too long, and I think that Word was secretly put on earth to torment all the neat freaks out there, what with it's sparodic indentation attacks and text misalignments, so it's back to the old fashioned way with pen, lined paper, and a ruler. Sure I'll probably get a hand cramp from all this, and most likely suffer from carpal-tunnel syndrome later in life, but for the sake of minimal stress, a love affair with tipex, and an attractive lab report (due Friday), it's worth it.

I also just finished eating fresh extra thick double cream with chocolate powder, and while it seemed a good idea in the first place, that's where the good idea part stayed, and the rest was just pure yuck, so it's gone on my 'Not really so good to eat' list along with peas and dog biscuits.

Dinner was good though - left over herbal chicken, and everyone knows how good herbal chicken gets after a couple of days in the fridge...I ate by myself though, because Hanwen's waiting for his better half, and Darren got on the train to Zone 6 to go find his. On the other side of the screen, Weng brought my number of games of minesweeper lost to 200. Bless him.

Okay, I gotta get back to work. Eesh.

For want of a better title: Tewzday

I woke up way too early, couldnt remember if I had even managed to fall asleep in the first place. Talked to one person on MSN this morning, but I don't think it consitutes as talking because I just 'listened' and he did all the talking, mostly about himself. I don't quite know how to carry out conversations like that, like how many 'ok's to type and send to be polite about the whole thing - not enthusiastic, just polite. It's easier to pretend to listen in person.

The last day of november leaves us about two and a half weeks of term. It's passed so quickly, or maybe the deadlines have just accelerated towards us. Largely uneventful day I guess, couldn't believe that we actually managed to finish this week's computing tutorial ahead of time. We're usually the last ones there, missing the lecture after that, and well into lunch or something.

I wonder if there's such a thing as post-menstrual stress as oppose to pre-menstrual stress. Or maybe I just PMS consistently. The last two days have been filled with moodswings. Sometimes (every 28 days to be exact) I hate being a girl.

The horrors of grocery shopping

I hate Mondays because I have to say goodbye to Weng. I hate grocery shopping on Monday mornings because that's when all the mothers bring their screaming kids to the supermarket to shop with them. I don't have a thing against kids, I just don't like them when they're throwing a fit. Other times I hate shopping include weekend mornings when senior citizens cluster around the reduced section like a flock of vultures.

There's also the chance that you won't make it out of there alive when you run the risk of getting run over by shopping trolleys as their owners diligently study their shopping lists. Crashing into baskets at knee height is also really painful, and all you get in reward is an angry stare or a blank 'whadja go en do that for?'.

After braving the melee and finding the aisle you want after walking past it five or six times, they're sold out, and you have to settle for a dodgy looking substitute. Ask any of the staff "Do you have any more..." and it's a sullen shake of the head before they go back to their overly intellectual task of stacking empty boxes.

Then it's off to the checkout, and your line will always always be the slowest despite having half the number of people standing in it with three or four items a piece, but all you can do is stand there hoping to get your groceries through before the dawn of the new millennium.

I also really hate cranky employees, especially when they've been on the shift too long. It's bad enough that you're at their mercy on the checkout line, but when your card gets rejected or when you want to make a five pound payment with the offending card, they've got you praying that they won't make a scene in front of the other fifty equally agitated shoppers and attract a hundred dirty looks your way.

To escape is to breathe a massive sigh of relief.

When Someone's on your side

Firstly, but in no order of importance, Liverpool beat Arsenal, and Weng and I have made a pact.

I'll say it again, Liverpool beat Arsenal 2-1, and with an injury-decimated squad too. It must've been a good match and I can't believe I missed it! Oh well, I've always had a foreboding suspicion that whenever I watch any of their games, they're usually shunted off the pitch with their tails between their legs. But they won! and that's all that matters! Yay!

More seriously though, every week we've gone to church, the message has always been unbelievably relevant, as if God's reaching out to us through these sermons. I think it's great, and at the end of today's service, Weng and I made a promise in complete faith, and I actually think it's made our relationship even better. The revival I've been going through since the start of summer has been totally uplifting and completely changed my outlook on life, it's as if my heart's been given wings - I feel so much lighter.

To sum it all up on the work front though, it's Sunday and I'm still no where near the end of my report, but that's okay, I'll deal with it Monday.

What are housemates for?

This is our very own resident morning-glory.



Stay tuned for more on 'I love my housemates'.

Weng's day

With it being his birthday, the whole day pretty much revolved around him. In other words, he made the bed, made breakfast, did homework, did laundry, made lunch, and played basketball. And then I tried to pull off his fourth birthday surprise.

Everything had been arranged almost perfectly. Thanks to the effort of Mingli, Tish, Hsiang, and Jun Linn, they managed to get a table at BaliBali and all I had to do was get a completely unsuspecting Weng there. I had promised him a romantic dinner for two, and he even got all frazzled when he saw that we were late for our reservation. It was quite funny.

I should've brought my London AtoZ because it was unbelieveably hard to find Shaftesbury Avenue and the over-the-phone directions were hilariously misunderstood. Anyway, after leading him all the way to Holborn and around a few times, I managed to get him sufficiently confused, and Hsiang had to rescue us from the Leicester Square station thus springing the surprise early.

It was a wonderful dinner though, and I'm so glad we managed to celebrate it with a few close friends. Made it all the more special.

Captain Obvious also made a come back today:

Tish: So where's your romantic dinner happening?
Weng: Um, I dunno exactly...In a restaurant somewhere?

and later...
Weng: Wow, your eye is really red!
Ash: Yea, a big piece of dust must've got into it yesterday night.
Weng: What? In your eye? Is that why it's so red?

Happy birthday Weng!

These are the things I did for you today:

1. Wrote you a card and looked online for an intelligent, inspiring, deep, and meaningful quote to fill it with.
2. Baked you chocolate fudge brownies on four hours of sleep, I know it's hard to mess up an instant brownie mix, but still, I can't really bake and had nothing to measure out ingredients with. Also burnt myself in the process.
3. And walked miles and miles to buy you a birthday present which you'll get tomorrow. We wouldn't want to have all the surprises in one day now, would we?

And you know what? It was all completely worth it. Love you so much sweetheart, and happy birthday.

Still life

Do you remember pencil cases like I remember pencil cases? They were like magic carpetbags, deceptively small-looking, but with the complete contents of an entire stationery shop. The art of owning and maintaining a pencil case took years and years of training through highschool. Green metallic rollerball? Perfumed pen? Five speed mechanical pencil? Absolutely everything.

I write this, not because I have nothing better to say, but because I've suddenly noticed that my pencil case seems to generate random pieces of stationery. Look inside, and all the pens just lie there innocently, but oh, what's this? Another one? My ruler has reproduced asexually, my stapler has taken up residence between the pencil sharpener and the yellow highlighter, and my favourite pen hides right at the bottom. If they're not making baby pens, then they're hijacking them from everywhere else. I don't know, it's like a jungle in there.

Forever love

They've been together forever, so long in fact that people can't think of one without the other. They were the oxymoron of our teenage years, the icon of stability in a tumultuous time. When everyone was messing around, getting their hearts broken, breaking other hearts, they were there, together.

Relationships came and went in the tapestry of friends around them, yet they endured, and they were good at it. Quick fix patches held longer than expected, only to be replaced by new ones. No one except their closest confidants knew how deep the cuts went, sometimes not even them. But what’s a relationship without a few problems?

Of course they care very deeply for each other. They’ve shared the best part of their adolescent life, been to hell and back in each other’s arms. But things are changing. Needs and wants are different, more persistent. Yet their public façade was perfect, the porcelain surface did nothing to indicate the cracks underneath, maybe until they even started to fool themselves. They didn’t see it coming until it was too late.

So what do they do now? Hold hope so tightly in one hand while fighting their battles with the other? Or break free? After so long, hand in hand, the latter would be like walking across a yawning chasm with no safety net or tether. It takes two to have a relationship, but if you love them, shouldn’t you let them go?

It’s so hard to stand on the side and watch them struggle, lost together in the very idea of such a huge change, when you love both of them so very much. I wish I could throw out a safety line, but I don’t know how.

Household bonding

+Tinkly synthesised music+

"I got 572, quick! Good? Okay"

+Silence+

"Wah dammit, I'm always last!"

+Fingers drum on the table top+

"EEEeeeeeeaaargh...."

+Car alarm goes off outside+

"NOnoNOnoNOnoNOnono...."

+Soft whirr of overheating laptops+

"Waaaaaarrgh, that blardi idiot!"

+A mouse clicks+

"HAHAHAHAHahahahahaa, serves the bugger right"

+A toilet flushes+

"Grrrr, what's he doing?!"

+Our upstairs neighbours chase a herd of stampeding elephants+

"Aaaaaah...OMG!"

+Grim looks around the table+

"Lost liao ah!"

+Resigned faces+

"Again!"

+Painful silence from angry girlfriend+

-The end-

Anthony who?

Even though the first Pilgrims from Plymouth landed four hundred years ago, I guess 76 million square kilometers of water isn't enough to keep people from influencing one another, and the one thing America and England have in common apart from shakey unilateral ties and a general distaste for each other, is that the celebrities outnumber the general 'unfamous' population.

England, however, have less internationally known celebs, which makes it really sad when they start new seasons of "I'm a celebrity, get me out of here!" and you dont know any of them, so the latest installment features, well, no one. I'm suprised that they haven't started writing gossip mags about the unfamous people, because surely there would be less pages to fill and less people to keep up with.

There's a strange British perversion with the way they keep celebrities in glass cages and poke them with sticks to see what they'll do; like how there are hundreds of people who'll get offered large amounts of money to 'admit' that they've slept with him and her, and their dog. I remember that Malaysia had it's first homegrown skank in the form of Sarah Marbeck quite recently, but we didn't know what to do with her, so the censorship board shut her up because there was too much mention of the 's' word...shh...

Anyhow, after watching fifteen minutes of the very first episode I've seen of this locally-hyped series, I've decided that it's basically Survivor come Fear Factor with less skin (what with being British and everything), more squeaky people, and a whole lot of 'eowwhh thaht's bloody nahsty'.

Engineering for dummies

Tishen's brought my course to a whole new level. I should take him to all my classes and get him to translate them afterwards...

Tish: So how was your pump meeting?
Ash: Not pump meeting, yield simulation...
Tish: Is that the one where you twist steel until it kaputs?
Ash: Yea that one
Tish: Oh, that kinda yield, not dividends.

and now he doesn't believe that I don't know what dividends are either. How typical is it for business managers and economists to complicate everything and then expect ordinary people to understand it. If everybody understood these things, they wouldn't have jobs.

Still struggling with the kaputting steel experiment. Running the program was easy, we just don't know how to apply it. When did we do 3D bendingmoments? (i.e. when you have one stick, and it bends this way and that way all at the same time)

Meanwhile, flat 8 has decided that we could go on University Challenge after watching one episode. We're that good. Yep, I can see the team now:

Fong May "We haven't learn't that part yet" Chew
Darren "I knew that!" Tan
HanWen "Oh wow" Goh
Jonathan "Damn, the door banged me again!" Lee
Ashley "I'm doing the wrong course" See

Also note that this particular household has turned GB into an extremely scientific pursuit, but the econs student was the first one to draw up all the variables i.e. wind speed, angle, wind direction, in an attempt to calculate precise trajectorial(?) thrust.

Lights, camera, action.

I wonder if anybody’s lives are as exciting as ours. Since secondary, we’ve lived nothing short of a soap, and just when I thought we had outgrown the phase, it’s come right back and hit us. The pictures we take show nothing of the undercurrents of emotion that fill the spaces around us as we stand, arm in arm, cheerfully grinning at the camera.

I think, though, that no matter what happens, our bonds of friendship will hold strong. Most of us have known each other for fifteen years, some for eight. Not much can destroy the experiences that stretch back that far. Even if we don’t like what we’ve become or how things have turned out, there are always the lighter moments when we forget the animosity and laugh like 12-year-olds.

So although some might feel like they’re not really ‘part of the group’ anymore or think that the friends that they once knew have turned on them, there’s no way on earth that that can ever be true. I mean this is Hollywood, and there’s always a happy ending.

Tishen's birthday

Day2:Weybridge

We actually managed to pull off the surprise. Maybe Uncle Terry did the right thing by only organising it a couple of days in advance so we didn't have a chance to ruin it. Everyone's here and we're having an awesome time.

In fact, Weybridge is SO wonderfully homely, relaxing, and peaceful that we're still here. It's easy getting here, but so much harder leaving. The puppies are everything and more. Boys will be boys, no matter what species, and when they're not sleeping, they're rolling all over the place play fighting. Nasi lemak, chicken rice, chocolate cake, mint icecream, fruit platters...omg, the list is endless. Absolutely magic, this is my neverland.

Happy Twentieth Tish!

A very happy birthday to you, Tish, and many happy returns of the day, oldman! +lol+ i hope you have a good one this year, love you plenty!

"A road to a friend's house is never long" - Danish proverb

Top of the hour

Last night's Spain vs. England international was horribly predictable after looking at the line ups. Spain's power midfield owned England's amid a wash of childish tantrums and dodgy refereeing. The Spanish used England's physicality against them and although it made most of the team look like dramaqueen debutants, it got them freekick after freekick.

Then gunbound took over about forty minutes in and we didn't get to watch the rest of the match. It was the Team Lexham vs. the rest of the world, riding on the guilt of 'so much work to do'. Won a few, lost a few more, then called it a night.

Absolutely crappy day in London. Freezing rain, soggy pavements, and the lull of a warm, cosy duvet certainly trapped more than the usual share of people this morning. Got scolded by a very mothering Weng when I skipped my last two lessons, but now I'm getting assaulted by littleboy Weng, who's pulling all kinds of jokes left, right, and centre. The personality switch was...quick. I'm much slower at adapting, so I'm just using 'the eye' for now.

I better get back to studying, which was the real reason I skipped. Of course. I think I can be more productive at home than in a computing lecture trying to learn C++ by swimming in it.

Weng vs. Ash: 114-96

What's up with this? I can't believe Weng's profile has gotten more hits than mine! I know I mention him in every other post or so, but this is MY blog! I'm the star! Mine! Mine! Mine! MINE!

For everyone who looks at his ultra-boring, empty profile in hopes of finding a picture, here's one for you...oh boy am I gonna be in trouble! +lol+

School sucks

Growing up, I was one of those rare kids, dweebs if you must, who actually looked forward to going to school every day. Primary and secondary was awesome, I couldn't wait to get up every day. Although the appeal began to wear off in college, it wasn't too bad, and I still didn't mind going. Now, however, I find myself looking for a slightest excuse to not have to attend. Failing to obtain any kind of horribly contagious/life threatening disease, I hit dirt bottom when I resolved that no hot water meant I couldn't take a shower which meant that I should go to Southampton, where there is hot water, and take a week off school.

Obviously, I'm still in London, the hot water came back yesterday, I've got more classes today, and I'm still looking for excuses. +sigh+

Not forgotten

The most unexpected people come through for you at the most unexpected times. People who you've given up on a long time ago suddenly prove their worth as a friend, and with a twinge of guilt, you remember why they've been your friend from the beginning and wish you hadn't complained about them.

I think this weekend's going to be about renewing old ties. Bestfriends never seem so far apart as when they're in the same country but never make the effort to really keep in touch. We meet for lunches and dinners, appointments which are hastily slotted into busy schedules, and we catch up on what's going on, but we don't know anything about what's going on on the inside.

How did we ever get so busy? Too busy to even ask after someone we're supposed to really care about. I suddenly feel like the worst friend in the world, but I'd like to say thank you to all of you that aren't.

The greatest gift

I have to give a huge shout out to the two new arrivals to the Tham family out in Zone X. Tish's friends list has finally been stretched to 14 +jk+ with the addition of two seven-week-old chocolate lab puppies!

If there's gotta be one thing I possibly love more than Weng, it's gotta be puppies. (We won't tell him that, hmm?) I'd do anything for puppies and I can't wait to go out and play with Yogi and Baloo! And see Tish of course, who grows a whole year older this Friday (the old man). He'll officially have left his teen years by the end of this week! But enough about gramps, I'll have a good six months to rub it in...let's talk about puppies instead! +Sigh+

Whinging

The only good thing about a freezing cold shower is that when you get out of the damn thing, you feel very warm. However, I can list about a thousand bad things about cold showers, like no one should have to inflict such torture upon themselves first thing in the morning. I know that people actually join the Polar Bear Club and their annual ice swims, but y'know, that's sport.

Hampton's has totally fcked us over. The technician was going to come this morning, but they cancelled him and said they were going to send someone else over, who didn't come. Apparently someone's supposed to be coming now. We're still sitting here freezing our...toes off. If it ever gets fixed, I'm not letting anyone go near the thermostat.

Otherwise another routine day - was nodding off by about twelve, then again at two. Spent lunch time tracking my parcel down (yep, still looking for it). Each post office gives me a totally different collection point each time I ask - it's like an infuriating treasure hunt that I still haven't reached the end of.

Thanks to a weekend of inactivity and mindless GB, getting motivated enough to work is near impossible. Like getting a large mass to start moving, y'know, whaddyacallit, inertia, that's right - resistance to motion. I need to sleep, but I already owe at least two massive fluid mech tutorials.

I can't believe it's only Monday.

Sunday night already

Fifteen minutes makes all the difference between getting a table and not at Four Seasons. I wonder if they've ever considered expanding. Two meters also makes all the difference between being able to enjoy your meal and not. Trying to eat with three other conversations crowded up against your table and a nasty draft everytime someone opens the door is a real pain in the ass. For most of the meal, we were honored by the presence of a guy who was reading an electric kettle manual and discussing it with a friend (I mean how hard is it to operate one of those things?); he was pretty much sitting on our table while waiting for his.

Weng's killer line of the evening:
"You look like you've just been stunned by a very handsome man."

Hot water status: Nil.

The morning after

The aches, pains, and wounds of yesterday are beginning to set in now that I have fully dethawed. There's still no hot water, which made this morning's shower an adrenaline-charged occasion. Weng was all ready to start the day with a cold shower, but he chickened out, so he's still stinky. (He played a total of 16 minutes of basketball before they were unceremoniously dumped out of the competition, therefore he's hurting a lot less physically, but still nursing a slightly injured pride.)

Gwen's Ben and Weng have long since stopped associating netball with 'girly game', as have the other five guys we played against in a friendly yesterday:

"I prefer basketball to netball because at least there they're openly hostile. In netball, they're so smelly (i.e. underhanded)..." - Ben

I tell you, they wouldn't survive two minutes on court. There was so much elbowing, toe stepping, backing up, scratching, and diving that it's almost embarrassing to be associated with the sport. But then again, you get whatever you can get, even if it means joining in the melee.

Probably going to spend today reliving those sublime plays and goals, and proudly whining about my bruises.

Nottingham games 04

We got a total of two hours' sleep the night before, having to wake up at the ungodly hour of 4.00am to make the 9.00am registration up north. I heard the alarm go off, but my body refused to respond to the frantic urgings of my mind, and I stayed curled up under my duvet for what seemed like a couple of seconds, but it had really been 15 minutes, which we couldn't afford to waste.

There was a lot of last minute packing and zombie-ing around the flat, forgetting what we went to the kitchen to get, while daring ourselves to take a cold shower (the hot water died yesterday). It was a good start to the day. Pretty much dragged our feet all the way to Beit Hall against the numbing cold and fell into the bus to sleep all the way to Notts.

Got there in three hours - a lot shorter than I thought, and woke up to a stiff neck. Our first netball game was due to start at ten. Passing was difficult with wooden fingers, but at least the sun was out, and after a good couple of games in the groups stages, we came across Warwick.

It was an extremely tense game to say the least. Our usually cheerful centre was all ready to slug a couple of punches in the direction of her counterpart. She wasn't the only one suffering from intense frustration. Needless to say we won the game, but were ousted by UCL in the semis - a game we could've fully won. Warwick went on to win the competition, but we took pride in being the only team to have beaten them. The rest of the ICSS did okay I guess, a few disappointing moments here and there, but there were quite a few good second or third place finishes.

A huge thanks to the Jacki, Gwen, Eunice, Jane, Jocelyn, Wen Wen, and Manda who were absolutely amazing today. It was awesome to play alongside them. We'll definitely be at the London Games in March.

Uncanny...

Mg, I have absolutely nothing to say today.

This one's especially for Lester

Last night the Year 2 Mech Eng Singaporeans came over for a small gathering. It was nice to get together and not talk about school work or ask Godwin for tutorial answers. Lester and Kenneth cooked, and Godwin and Vivian washed up – thank you so much guys! There was lots of laughing, I mean, it’s hard not to when Lester starts with the storytelling.

The day started really early this morning, even earlier than for a 9.00am lecture just to catch the bus to the power stations. Only 14 of the 25ish people turned up for the Kingsnorth trip. It was okay in the end I guess.

We spent more time on the bus than actually touring the plant. The guide was a retiree; you could tell he wasn’t happy about the way things had changed since his time.

There was a short lecture on how the plant works – plenty of numbers, but didn’t really come out with anything useful, except that politicians and accountants understand absolutely nothing about making electricity. After putting on oh-so-sexy helmets (that’s why I didn’t become a chemical engineer), safety glasses, and high-visibility jackets (in yellow highlighter with sparkly silver detailing) we started the walking tour.

The control room was massive and clinical-like with sprawling computers and a fantastic selection of buttons. Then we walked into the main housing for the boilers, turbines, and generators. We spent a few minutes looking at arrays and arrays of pipes, some big, some little, stretching for miles and miles in every direction, bending around each other in a precise dance. There was a hot geyser of steam leaking out one of the turbines, and you could see the heat waves radiating off those metal monstrosities. The standard-issue ear plugs kept falling out, and it’s not like they helped, because the vibrations pretty much bypassed the eardrums and went straight into the centre of your brain.

The second part of the tour was outside to see the fuelling jetty and water intake. It sits on a river, so to cool the steam it sucks in huge amounts of water, strains out all the debris, and then pumps it through the system. They had great big metal baskets of dead fish and seaweed. It stunk like crazy. After a cursory glance at their lunch menu on the way to the cafeteria line, we figured out what happens to all that fish:

-Friday-
Main Fish and Chips
Dessert Bread pudding

I suppose that once they batter and deep fry it, no one can tell the difference.

All in all, it wasn't a bad day, now just waiting for Weng to get in, so I’m going to go play GB.

6 Degrees

It's one to the Singaporeans, and I've got a crappy ankle going for me. We played the MSoc girls today, I don't actually think that they've actually played together as a team, not sure, but we beat them 9-2. I think our defense was really really good, or perhaps their attack just isn't. It was still pretty fun, I guess it's fun winning...generally worth fighting through those gale-force winds to get there and back.

Exams ended today. I felt so much lighter walking out of that lecture theatre. I really really don't feel like going to the powerplant tomorrow though. I was tempted to skive the trip and base it on a dodgy ankle that needs a lot of rest. I thought that once the tests were over, I could slack off, but there's even more to do now - a whole bunch of errands I've been putting off. Yay.

Gunbound is turning into an addiction here, Shiv's starting to feel the strain and I don't blame her. Leave them alone and they'll quite happily glue themselves to their computers, side by side, Darren in his bathrobe cursing his teammates, Han Wen with a bemused smirk on his face and his 'Oh wow's.

Darren's starting to 'fluence everyone in this household. He has such random bitchfests that it's like flicking channels and going from 'Gardening with Herbert' to 'Tanjong Rambutan: The Angry People'. I definitely know not to get on his bad side. I pity the poor soul who get blasted everyday, but I'll have to be mean and admit that it's quite entertaining.

And the house is clean. It was incredible, the vacuum was going and everything! It's been a good day.

It's always too early

Last test today, and you know how it goes, can't be arsed to study properly for this one. The conscience is nagging quite a bit though.

According to Darren, I’m always making up excuses as to why I can’t start something right now. I’m a procrastinator, and he’s being all “big momma” – also nagging at me to study.

Other than having to scrape myself out of bed, my tiny bathroom still smells of cat piss (the plumber resealed the whole shower cubicle yesterday – it looked like a hard fought battle, the stuff’s everywhere), and I lost half of a digestive in my tea, so it’s a bit like Nestum now, only not so good.

I really want to just go back to bed, but it’s kind of cold in there, and after Blue stopped being warm, it just got irritating because it took up half the bed; quite uncomfortable.

Okay, I better stop wasting time. There’s a whole load of diodes and sources that need my attention.

I pulled a hot chick last night.

Now that I have your attention, I have a question:

A lot of people go clubbing right, and when they club, everyone gets drunk, and nowadays it's all quite normal to 'pull' someone. Anyone really. If you do get hot and heavy with a total stranger, and you have a girlfriend waiting wherever (far away usually to avoid awkward situations) is it considered cheating?

What are the rules? Do both parties agree that it's okay to act single and without constraint in these situations? Does the girlfriend know that you do things like that? Is she okay with it? I guess I'm addressing guys more than girls because I've only ever heard stories, especially boasts that someone kissed some hot chick last night at some club, or in some cases, more. It's usually a hot chick, unless it's told from the more sober friend's point of view, in which case, she probably had a moustache, only it was dark...

Getting back to the point though, do guys like acting single? I know some girls get the itch to flirt when they're involved, but I never thought it really applied to guys - I mean they all seem to wanna get a girlfriend, yet they defined one night stands and they'll take a flirty situation further than a girl would. Unless she's really so horny. I don't get it. Boys are so hard to understand. Don't they feel guilty at all?

When did the NBA season start?

I found out yesterday that point guard Steve Nash is with the Phoenix Suns now. He's like my fav player. The Mav's won't be the same without him...although they do seem to be doing pretty well - unbeaten so far. That's what I love about basketball, they play day after day after day, which means there's good t.v. to watch day after day after day. And basketball players are always so cool lookin', I mean, footballers run like chickens and look like cocky goofballs. Curse the timezone difference, how they don't watch basketball in this soggy country, and the fact that we don't have cable.

Guess what I have to do now. Yep. Study. Oh joy.

Superglue

Don't worry, it isn't another metaphorical article about relationships or social bonds or how people are just so sedentary nowadays, getting stuck in all kinds of metaphysical ruts. This is quite literally about superglue.

I don’t think people realize how important superglue is. It’s like the unsung hero of adhesives. Sure PVA gets all the attention what with it being so arty-fartily inclined, and of course rubber glue’s really fun to flick at people after it’s dried in globs, but the former dissolves on contact with water, and the latter’s equally as useless.

Superglue on the other hand is fully suited to all your daily gluing needs, as demonstrated in American Pie 2. My life however is no where near as exciting as that. I’ve used superglue to fix bathroom tiles, oven knobs, my retainer, and my glasses over the last few weeks. I don’t think I’ve ever noticed how useful it is.

If I didn’t have superglue to fix my retainers, my mum would be incredibly angry if she saw squinty teeth come Easter, and it would be another RM300 down the drain because orthodontists really make all their money by replacing people’s retainers. At RM600 a set, it’s no wonder that they’re rolling in it. Then again, I’m not sure how long the fumes will take to completely evaporate or whether superglue ever loses its toxicity.

If I didn’t have superglue to fix my glasses, I’d be sitting here, hunched over the keyboard, squinting at the screen. It took me seven tries to get it to hold because it broke at a very fiddly place and I got more glue on my fingers and the kitchen counter than on the join. But anyhow, it’s still setting, so I’m pretty much bent double over my laptop anyway.

This is really just another session of verbal diarrhea in the guise of an intellectually stimulating post while I wait for someone to talk to me. Has superglue brightened your day?

Goin crazy

I just got home and all I really feel like doing is kicking back for the rest of the evening. Sadly though, the wicked shall not rest, and I have to start studying for solid mechanics and math tomorrow. I don't get how people can afford to not work hard... I like have no life because of this course (I can hear the economists laughing).

Weng's headed back to Southampton, but it's not too bad this time, because I just bought myself a hotwater bottle. Woot! And it's fuzzy too. It's sitting on my lap like a really warm fuzzy animal. (I really miss Perdy)...but anyhowI shall call it Blue.

I can't believe that Macs don't have hotcakes anymore! I'm so disappointed. The hot chocolate is good there tho. I had a snickers bar for lunch with a bottle of water. I think that's about all the relevant food groups covered.

The door's been ripped off one of the stalls in the level 3 girls' bathroom. Someone must've been PMSing pretty badly. Only makes the toilet situation worse though. There are never enough girl toilets as it is.

It feels so late, but it's really only about half four. The setting sun throws my whole bodyclock out of sync. And I'm hungry...

But, ugh, I gotta study. Bugger.

Tminus63minutes

x, y, z, d, u, v, w, A, k, h, L, r, q, u, U, c, P, T, V, sigma, tao, roh, pi...

It's like learning a whole new language, an alphabetical parallel. There are so many variables and equations swimming around in my head that if I move too quickly, they'll probably fall out of my ears.

I pretty much just learnt the stuff that's going to come up in the first test from scratch. Quite an achievement. Committing it to memory is another thing though, and I've reached a point where my mind's so completely saturated that all I can do is stare helplessly at the words in front of me.

Looking forward to the end of the week already. I'm going to go find a chocolate bar to get me through this...

What I didn't do.

IknowIknowIknowIknowIknowIknowIknow...

I should've been studying, but one thing lead to another, and after dimsum at Chinatown with the residents of the JL-YH refugee camp, I'm now the proud owner of a pair of Nike yogapants. They're really awesome, so Weng agrees, but I think it was greased along by the fact that he also bought a new pair of basketball shoes and a top. I thought we had buried the Nike branding fad, but along with Gb, it seems to have made a huge comeback. The shoes are really nice though.

The fireworks are going off outside in the fog, a particularly loud one has set off a cacophany of car alarms. It's a wonder that anyone can see anything outside; the fog's pretty thick, it could be pissy rain though - sheets and sheets of it.

Regent Street was closed off today, I think in conjunction with the opening of The Incredibles. There was some kind of rock concert and a lot of Santas running around with flyers. Here, the streets are paved with leaflets. I had forgotten how crowded Oxford Circus is, two hours there was enough for me.

I'm exhausted, but here we go again to catch the last service.

There goes Saturday

A sprained thumb, half a kebab, and 10 hours later, I have a wonderfully warm feeling inside from a pretty good day.

Netball was fun. I ran crazylike until my heart threatened to burst, like a little kid again. Everyone was shouting instructions at me. I tried really hard to follow what they were saying, but I was 'in the zone' and I was really bad at multitasking because I was focusing on not tripping up on my own feet.

After so long without playing team sports, my peripheral vision and spatial awareness were, on a scale of 1 to 10, at minus 3. I had to keep half a mind on where I was putting my feet and the other half on where the ball was. Obviously I didn't have any more brain spare to keep an eye on the defender or anyone else. But it's better than last week, I mean, I could only focus on the ball back then. +grin+

Playing against the footballers later was great fun - they tried the most outrageous passes and they had the longest reach. Pushing the tempo was the only way we could get around them. There were plenty of laughs as they came to grips with the game. If we had played a little longer, they would've started to really own us.

Other than that, I've Word produced my math notes. I feel like I've accomplished something, even if it's only upping the presentation of my file and um, not really revising as such. I'll try harder tomorrow.

Progress tests are looming like a cow of an iceberg.

Evil games

Any kind of computer game that results in any kind of addiction leading to the girlfriend having to scrape the boyfriend off the computer is also often the cause of much trouble. Mainly on the boyfriend's part.

I'm not saying that we're aboslute witches and won't even let our guys have a little down time doing what they really REALLY love, but c'mon, if you spend more than four hours straight grunting in answer to anything we try to talk to you about and then moaning about where the whole weekend went, you're not gonna be sleeping in here tonight.

I've introduced GB to my flat mates. I'm not sure that their sweethearts are overjoyed with the prospect, so I apologise sincerely. I think it's quite entertaining watching them try to involve their betterhalfs with the time old adage, 'Well why don't you play, here, I'll help you.' I don't think they understand that we'd much rather be mad at them than make a fool of ourselves with poor hand-eye coordination and get even more annoyed.

It's dicks before chick in most cases of gaming, and I don't think it's ever going to change. The best way to sort out the addiction? Swallow a whole load of impatience, make them feel guilty, and then turn the screw a little tighter. That's tough love baby.

Seven hours

Thursdays always feel so long. By the end of the day, I’m more than happy to give up trying to actively learn what’s being taught and just sit there letting the voices wash over me.

At lunch time, with nothing to do, I went to the career fair. The engineering firms were more than happy to answer questions, but all the finance firms had representatives that acted like they had the whole damn world shoved up their…right, they were really snobby.

I didn’t get any freebies, because I have a feeling that the freshers got there first in the guise of ‘keen’ undergraduates looking to map their future from year 1. Don’t deny it, I saw a couple of guilty looking fake chemical engineers who had talked one of the reps into giving them a stress ball, among a whole bunch of other things, like pens, thermos mugs, and pencils.

The only really helpful thing that came out of attending the fair was the guide book that they gave us with a description of all the companies. Although I’m not quite sure how to compare £25,700, ‘competitive’, and ‘highly competitive’ grad pay, at least I know what companies to Google over the next week or so.

Meanwhile, back at home, Fong May’s sleeping patterns are starting to become a character trait. We heard that Fong Yean will be visiting this weekend, so Han Wen started comparing them, and he said, “You guys are totally different, for one thing, she’s awake…”. It was pretty funny. Darren’s convinced that she spends two thirds of her life asleep, but I’m sure he’ll help her sort it out soon, even if it means dragging her to her own lectures, which I think he already does. +lol+

Weng’s playing CM next to me. He suddenly spasms every now and then, whenever Southampton score. It’s fairly distracting, but so are the funny little whiny noises he makes when the other team has a shot on goal, and I guess I’m used to it.

I’m talking to lady-killer Tish. He’s one of my very best friends if you didn’t already know, and he attracts women aged 25 and above (generally of the marriageable age) like bees to honey. When he’s thirty, he’ll never be short of women, or mothers trying to hook him up with their daughters. That is Tish.

Otherwise, I think I should really be getting to bed soon. I’m so tired, spent most of the day avoiding sharp corners and door frames (prevention hurts a lot less), and my heater’s finally back in London. Yay!

Schugar Rsuh

All hopes of curing the parachutelike eyebags hanging from my lower lids were quickly scuppered by a KrispyKreme, which is why I'm here again, writing for my multitude of adoring fans...which stands at Weng (because he loves me), Evan (for sake of nothing better to do up North), Tish (because he spends more time at home than at school), and 15 or so other returning visitors. I don't know whether they come back only because their mouse accidentally slipped over their URL history or what, but every little bit counts.

Liverpool won tonight, even though Deportivo scored the only goal. It's one of their first away wins, I'm so happy!

I just updated WMP from 6 straight through to 10, and it looks so cool! I bet none of the features have changed, but hell, I'm sold on the look of the thing. (I'mc urrently havingm assive difficult ies controllin gwhere t he spaces sh ouldg o in this post.) The sugar is wreaking havoc on my synapses +giggle+ as I sing along to 'A Spoonful of Sugar'. Haha, how appropriate!

Oh, I definitely definitely feel like Camille Saint-Saens' Carnival of the Animals Finale. It featured in Fantasia for those of you who are less Disney-inclined. Flamingos and yoyos make great entertainment! Actually, given my current state, anything makes great entertainment. Heh.

I think I need a sedative, or I'll just pay the sleep debt tomorrow when I start klutzing into everything.

Wahlau-eh

I've just come out of the most intensive two hour nap I've ever had. It's left me feeling more tired than before, but I managed to struggle out of it's sticky grasp before it killed me.

I dreamed about the world's definitive rollercoaster. It had a jet engine. A jet engine in a rollercoaster. It had a drop of twenty stories, four and a half loops, and two and a half corkscrews, and the Gs completely plastered you to your seat, and your scream to the back of your throat. And I actually rode it, at night in complete darkness, and in the front row. I could feel everything - the adrenaline bordering on complete and utter terror, the wind ripping through my hair...

Then I remember looking for a killer bug. I didn't want to pick it up, but it kept running away looking for someone to burrow into and reproduce. It was an evil looking skeletal thing, and worst of all, my fluids lecturer gave it to me. GAVE it to me. My fluids lecturer (?!). I don't get it either, but I was panicking between having to hold this revulsive creature in one hand while I looked for a book heavy enough to kill it, and looking for it before it latched on to me because it kept squirming out of my hand and dropping onto the floor...

Suddenly I was clawing my way out of my own dream while muzzily trying to figure out if that killer bug was actually real, and whether it was in my bed or not. That thought definitely dissolved the cobwebs of sleep, so here I am, still freezing my ass off, nursing a hot tea with sugar. Actually I really feel like soaking my entire head in hot tea, one cup doesn't seem enough.

Flicking through my mind

I'd just like to take this opportunity to commend effort of the many boyfriends I know who'll travel far and wide just to spend some time with their other halves every weekend. Whether it's an hour's train ride or four hours by bus, these guys will unfailingly make the trip, and look forward to it too. And who said romance was dead...

Meanwhile Bush and Kerry are seperated by two points.

I'm listening to the Forest Gump soundtrack. I don't know why but it always makes me feel so sad. It's such a bittersweet piece of music...

We're underattack by angry angry flies. It's getting cold and icy outside, so they like flying into the house, although it isn't much warmer in here. +brr+ Maybe I should just take my laptop and go curl up next to the radiator in the hall - it seems to be the only one that works...

My Mum sent a parcel over about a month ago and it never got here. After I finished dissing the postal system, it turns out that it's because she forgot to put the building number - just "Flat 8, Lexham Gardens...". Therefore, as far as I can gather, it's anywhere between 1-88 Lexham Gardens. I guess I'll know what I'll be doing tomorrow...

I think waterbottle teddybears are weird. I wouldn't like to hug my bear and then have it go "blublub" back at me...

Being Malaysian

1. Your father, uncle, brother, nephew, or cousin is a Datuk, civil servant, parliamentary minister, or all of the above.
2. Milo is a drink, desert, and food group all by itself.
3. Road signs and painted lines are merely suggestions, not directions.
4. The answer to every traffic jam is to build more roads.
5. The highways are never quite bright enough.
6. You’ll get change back from bribing your way out of a speeding ticket.
7. You are so multicultural that you can speak Malay, Chinese, and English, and swear in 46 different dialects.
8. You are perpetually on a tea break.
9. If you don't own a motorcycle, you've almost run one over.
10. You can’t move any faster than a stroll.
11. You can text while you’re driving, with your eyes closed, upside down, and hanging by your fingertips.
12. Boss, satu teh tarik, dua roti bom.

Why's it only tuesday?

I went for a career talk today. It was run by Shell, and I have to give them credit for their tactically superb advertising. Yes, let's send the goodlooking and inspired fresh graduates who still love their job, and the charismatic below-35s to talk them all into subjugation. Let's show them a video and brainwash them into thinking that Shell's THE place to work. I bet there were subliminal messages in that "The world without power" clip. I know I took away more than a couple of leaflets from that presentation. I think I remember more from that forty minutes than I do from all my other lectures. Maybe IC should employ gorgeously darkhaired, green-eyed hunks to teach us stress analysis...

Coming back to reality though, the talk brought up the slightly less attractive prospect of filling out application forms and sending CVs in before the Dec/Jan deadlines. A bit like UCAS all over again, only worse.

I'm also pleased to say that I'm as up to date with my tutorials as I can be - or so I think (but then there's that nagging feeling that I'm forgetting something). I know there are so many half done questions, but that'll have to wait til the lessons to finish. I really don't feel like studying for next week's tests, so I think I'll sit here, wait for football to come on, and miss my goodsmellingcocoabutterboy.

I'll probably regret like hell tomorrow when I kena ambush by more work.

Baby, it's cold outside

Lab was an hour and a half of writing down numbers, and another hour and a half spent making them jump through flaming hoops. We're not engineers, we're accountants.

We longingly watched from behind the huge glass window as students skipped home, as people waved goodbye, and as the sun set. We saw our peers pack up their books and pencilcases with smiles of relief, grab their coats and bags in earnest, and leave the laboratory at a near run. We saw the shadows on the wall creep further and further up the brickwork as darkness descended on the South Kensington campus and we were finally allowed to go home, all because of a couple of bent lines and a few poorly marked 'x's.

Then it was the cold walk home. You could feel the frost in the air as people walked in and out of the pools of murky light cast along the street. The romantically rambling gardens suddenly turned into forbidding shadowy portals. People pulled their coats tighter, their collars higher, as they hurried on at the sound of footsteps. Warmth spilled out briefly from open doorways as they were opened and then quickly shut again against the pervading draft.

When it's cold and dark, everyone's hurrying home, fiercely protective of whatever warmth and love they possess. I wish I had someone to go home to.

Week 5 :: 1 - 7 November 2004

We're almost halfway through the first term already, and I could kill for a midterm break. I never knew how unbelieveably valuable three or four days off school can be until you don't have them.

No, instead, they give us progress tests to, ha ha, test our progress. I wonder if they've realised that we don't retain anything in the first six weeks, much less the whole year, so testing us means unnecessary stress on both parts.

We have to learn and commit to memory things that we barely grasp in the first place. Proof? What proof? You think we actually know the fluid flow derivations inside and out enough to reproduce the proof based on pure instinct? Yeah Right. We don't even understand the damn thing, so, like in all other cases of desperation, we end up memorising lines and lines of derivation. Tough luck if you're dyselxic. All those curly d's and deltas can be a real pain in the ass.

Labs start this week too. This afternoon actually, an inspiring three hour session that effectively doubles the class time for today. And it's so cold outside.

This week also plays host to the elections that will determine the next four years of America (four years, is that right?). Because of poor information and time-zone calculations on my part, I can only hazard a guess that it'll happen sometime between today and tomorrow. As it stands, when one candidate wins, about half the nation'll be demanding recounts and blaming underhanded tactics and conspiracies in bitter disappointment.

It looks like America'll have a tough time deciding between a couple of complete tits under the bombardment of masses of advertisements and rallies. Give human beings a vote and it gets complicated.

Daylight savings

I really don't understand the idea behind daylight savings. Setting the clocks back just means that the sun sets at a ridiculous 5.30pm, shops get to close earlier, and everyone who wasn't paying attention in general arrives an hour early for appointments, looking really stupid. Just like the ten or so people who walked in halfway through the 9.30am service because they thought it was the 11.30am.

Maybe students'll actually be on time to lectures tomorrow - just for one day, until they catch on of course, because it's impossible to have the whole course turn up for even one lecture on time - it breaks all the laws of reality. Haha.

Oh, and Happy Halloween.

Stone-age speeds

I've been waiting for Gunbound to download for two hours. Weng's asked me to play with him because no one wants to be on his team, so how could I say no? Anyway, I've also been downloading and installing a whole bunch of other stuff because when my computer got violated, it took away all the essentail setup files and left me with a useless bunch of crap - or that's as far as I can gather.

He's playing GB right now and I swear he's on auto:
Me: I think I should change the picture on my blog, it makes me look really fat.
Him: Fat? No, you're not fat. It's a good picture.
Me: Hey, can I have my waterbottle? (right next to his computer)
Him: Huh? What? Waterbottle? Don't you have it? It's not here...

I'm still really bored. I overslept this morning after forgetting to set the alarm last night, and made it to school in fortyfive minutes - Weng packed my lunch and made me a hot drink (the darling). Caught the second half of what felt like a completely unproductive tutorial - I did half of a question (that still isnt right) and learnt about another project and yet another deadline. The afternoon wasn't much better: Managing People in Organisations, which I didn't attend. I mean I can read the text in ten minutes, why sit through an hour of him reading it out to us.

Aboslutely thrilled about the progress tests coming up, I'm all ready to break the monotony of our daily lobotomies. Wahey.

Laundry madness

It's the attack of the dirty laundry. It's spilling out of bags, out of the toilet door, almost out of my room. I don't even know where it all came from! My piles of clean clothes on my shelf doesn't look any less, yet the laundry pile seems to have propogated. It's driving me nuts - no matter how many loads I do - and I'm washing and hanging as fast as I can, I can't even seem to put a dent in it. I didn't come here to study, I came here to do laundry...+grr+

I've also hit a cleaning phase and it's suddenly dawned on me that we don't have a living room, we have a rubbish tip.

It's a boy's world

I think guy blogs have a much easier time entertaining the masses than girl blogs. Yet another inequality that, due to years of social inbreeding, has run completely rampant and is now rearing its ugly head in cyber society.

Guy blogs just have to mention sex, cars, and anal leakage, and they're set. Girl blogs have to work twice as hard to sound half as clever and they cannot use any of the aforementioned words. Sex would indicate we're whores, anal leakage would drop our sex appeal below earthworms, and cartalk makes us sound like male wannabes. Girl blogs are all deep and meaningful and 'complicated', and guy blogs are a pretty basic 'I got laid' skew to it and they're the heroes.

It's a dire predicament, ladies.

Microshit

When it rains, it pours. On the happiness vs. time graph of my life, I've swung into the negative and in a big, careening, out-of-control way too. So after the heartbreakingly mysterious disappearance of my camera, I've lost one of the other loves of my life as well. Microsoft killed my computer.

Actually, it didn't kill my computer, instead, the Windows XP service pack 2 left it a mere shell of its former self. A vegetable. And I'm still struggling with the Windows reinstallation simply because in order to finish it, I need service pack 1, which I can't get because I need to download it off the internet, but I don't even have the capabilities to download it off the internet and install it because I need the service pack. Tadaa. Welcome to the sheer moronicity that is Microsoft.

I can't believe that they have the nerve to promote themselves as a 'fast and reliable' OS, that they DARE encourage you to download service packs to enhance the stupid thing, and that they have all kinds of disclaimers to keep them out of court. What kind of sick freak can sleep at night knowing that he's costing the world's economy trillions of dollars in tech support?!

We should just all live in nests in the trees with the animals without any kind of electronic devices because they only seek to bring grief to humanity.

...and I have unidentifiable soggy lumps in my tea...wonderful.

Plugged in

Thanks to the valliant efforts of Goh Han Wen, we've overcome the adversity that is technology and the 4someorgy network is up and running with internet. You can credit the name of our network to the equally illustrious Darren Tan.

Anyhow, I can finally check email, write blogs, and chat without feeling like other people are peering over my shoulder or around their computer screens to kaypo at mine, and I promise that the MSN minesweeper challenge shall be resumed shortly too. Ahh, internet!

That's the good news. The bad news is that I've lost my baby. My little Canon Ixus +sob+. I can't find it anywhere. I'm absolutely devastated...if you've seen it, let me know?

Apron strings

My parents are always really really worried that I'm going to get distracted and flunk out of college, or that I'm going to get pregnant and lose complete track of who I am and what I need to do in life. In all realism, I'm extremely thankful for their concern, and I'm sure some of the 'we think you should focus more' speeches and emails actually do sink in, I mean they take a lot of care to phrase it very tactfully, but it does get irritating sometimes.

I'm used it, to a certain extent, I guess, I mean I get it at least once a term, but the most I can do from here is give them a vague 'Yes, Mum, I know' and hope that they accept it. It's what they want to hear. What else am I supposed to say? But how many times, do you think, will I need to reassure them that I haven't gone crazy, or worse, that I'm +gasp+ failing? I don't think it'll ever stop.

But I'm not sure I mind all that much. It used to drive me up the wall because even after so many years of top grades, they still feel the need to lecture me. I love them a lot and I do everything I can to not disappoint them. Sometimes the speeches hurt because it feels like they don't trust me, but I can understand how paranoid they are. I blame that on the media. Teenage girls are nothing but putty. Soft, impressionable putty. But not this one.

Is it halloween already?

Weng and I often exchange opinions on most of the fashion victims we see for want of better things to do. Anyhow, last night we attended the UCL boat party and while it wasn't as great as last year's, the crowd provided plenty of fodder as they trickled onto the boat.

1. Even if Elle or Cosmo says that tweed is in this fall, I'm not so sure they meant do it in pink and like your best friend, and unless you subscribe to the Airline Stewardess's Flying Fashions catalogue, please don't team it with a beret.
2. If you're going to wear a dress, then wear a dress dammit. What's going on with the jeans? Why jeans AND a dress?
3. Stilettoes are sexy. In fact, they can be SO sexy that guys will fall on their knees just to be near your feet. However, stilettoes are NOT sexy when your toes are oozing off the front of the sole and you look like you're struggling for traction on the slope.
4. Timberland hiking boots are amazing. So are mid-calf socks in dark blue. I really like green crepe dresses too, but put it together and it looks like a hillbilly fell into Monsoon or something.
5. Knowing a whole song, word for word, and then dancing those words with arm actions and lip synching in a black sparkly shirt makes for excellent entertainment.
6. If you're going to take the cap off your Harrod's bus conductor teddy bear and wear it to a party, aren't you taking the 'wear a hat' theme a little too seriously?

I'm not a fashion expert and I'm rarely ever dressed immaculately either, but for that one night, I felt all-powerful in my new, ultra-chic coat. Mwahaha.