Michelle Vi Britannia
"I don't like compliments, and I don't see why a man should think he is pleasing a woman enormously when he says to her a whole heap of things that he doesn't mean.” - Lady Windermere's Fan, Nineteenth Century
"God couldn't be everywhere, so He created monsters." - Jewish Proverb
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Saturday, January 28, 2012
 Happiness is (Not) A Fish
 
Listening to: A Thousand Years - Christina Perri

Last Watch/Read: The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time - Mark Haddon

I know, I know. I am way overdue for a post. Been studying and all that shit.

Oh, er- Happy belated 2012, everyone! To Chineses (wait, is there such a word?) who celebrate Chinese New Year, I wish you all 新年快乐, 龙马精神 ! Pretty apt, considering how 2012 is the year of the Dragon.

Before I go on regaling tales about my wacky holidays AKA 3 pathetic weeks of semester breaks, you shall have to hear about the suffering that is my exams. The bad before the good, right?

A week before the exams: Still in Denial. Wake up. Shower. Eat. Furiously cram 14 weeks worth of material. Bleary. Dunk and repeat process.

A day before the exams: Panicked. Promptly hurl up empty air. Keeled over. Went back to studying. Slept for 3 hours. Studied summore! (I realized I would never catch up on my ITS chapters no matter how desperately I try. Cue for trumpets-of-woe.)

DAY 1: Fundamentals Of Accounting - The night before: Pulled an all nighter and turned into a caffeine junkie- kids, do not imitate this. HOWEVER, said paper was reasonably simple and through, which is more than I could say for the other subjects. My body did went into sleep-deprivation mode right after FOA ended, and I konked out for two hours before resuming my whole bleary, panic, cram routine.

Realized I had exam-induced-insomnia after getting only four hours of sleep for two days. Shit.

DAY 2: English For Communication - Fairly easy. There was an essay on the causes of teenage pregnancy which I sweated and fretted over like a mother hen. Halfway through- thought block. "Err, what was the other word for portrayed again? It started with a 'D'... damnation (damn it, Supernatural! Castiel, stop invading my mind!), diabolic, dysentery... oh, right. Depicted." *goes back to scribbling again*

DAY 3: Macroeconomics - Brain, I need miracles. As in, oh-shit-this-chapter-might-come-out-and-there's-one-thousand-and-one-pages-and-I've-gone-through-NONE. Dropped off the cliff during the actual paper. Then after it: "Holy crap. I did question X wrong. What was the thing about progressive and regressive income tax again? AAAAARGH!" Brain is mush. Kinda like mashed potatoes.

Back to moar studying! Get up at three in the morning to do past year questions and tutorials, had a splitting headache after that, go back to sleep at six, wake up again at nine, study... well, this is my routine so far. Comprehend? Chronic insomnia's a bitch. Gimme more Neslo!

DAY 4: Introduction to Organisation and Management - Y'know what? This was supposed to be EASY. But noooo, it turned out to be very subjective and how shall I say this, hmm, sly. I barely managed to churned out the appropriate answers (in the first place, I have no idea how to study for this thing! The notes were subpar and the reading list is like 'ALL OF 'EM'. That's right. You heard me. Chapter 1-7, god-knows-how-many-f*king-pages-of-'em. Tata, I shall go back to watching Aliens versus Predators.)

Actually, I was in catatonic shock after IOM. I don't believed that I'll fail, but it's something I wish I could have done better at.

DAY 5: Information and Technology Systems - I should have loathe this paper, since I so desperately ITS throughout the whole semester... but I don't! Went through the whole thing like godspeed and realized, "Yes, I can do this!"

Confused airport luggage bag carriers tags with RFID though. What is WRONG with me?

Then... YES IT IS OVER. *knocks self out for thirty hours*

Ahem, back to the whole Chinese New Year festive topic...

This year, my very-large-extended-family-which-is-not-actually-THAT-large-but-still-damn-vast-in-comparison decided not to have the reunion dinner-turned-lunch at a restaurant mainly due to two reasons: 1) Pregnant women and 2) Sticky issues with IN LAWS. Yeah. So we all sat down for lunch at a cramped table courtesy of my aunt's, in which we were treated to a gourmet feast worthy of Hilton's standards.

Piccy! Are you hungry yet?

As it turns out, I had snacked (pretty badly) before lunch. Halfway through my plate of rice, I was starting to get rather queasy. Looking at all the dishes on the table made me even more nauseated; I was afraid I was going to hurl the contents of my stomach. I sat there, taking slow bites because like all good Asian children, I have been taught not to waste. Fortunately, adding soup to the rice helped. I even managed a second helping(!) <-- turned out to be a bad idea later. Because I could feel my clogging arteries.

This whole CNY was caught up with food, food, food.

I think this was the most uneventful Chinese New Year EVAH. Probably because of my after-lethargy of exams and having succumbed to the solitude of my lonely dorm room at college (again, 200 km away). More time was spent being a Spoiled Sulky Bitch, hammering away at the phone (doesn't that sound somewhat awesome but perverse?) and easily lose wee hours by stalking perusing people on Facebook. Oh, and getting obsessed with Sims Social. Those little people really do amuse me in a sick, sick way. I shall not elaborate. Just read this review on the Sims Social. You have no idea how many times I cracked up reading it. Most boring ghost story indeed!

My brains cells are not functioning well at this moment. Pardon me?

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Thursday, December 1, 2011
 Good Riddance!
 
Listening to: 還是要幸福 - 田馥甄

Last Watch/Read: The Diary of A Young Girl - Anne Frank

There is no such thing as a gentleman nowadays. Oh, I know what magazines and newspapers say- but I speak the truth: Men of this time have naught an inkling of respect for women. Equality? To them, it's merely a word- perchance they might confuse it with 'sex', 'abuse' and 'discrimination'? Even now, as we continue to champion the rights of women all over the world, there's still an obvious gender disparity. Life is a little baffling, don't you think? What gives MEN the right to walk all over us? Why should we bow to their whims and allow them to mistreat us?

I remembered being quite young when I first encountered sexism. After two hours at the cinema with my friends, I suggested going to the supermarket to check out sushi for lunch. Since it was a sale, and as you know, there are long queues at the cashier when it is time to pay. We waited in line for at least half an hour, and when it came to our turn, the man behind us rudely bumped past me and shoved his groceries in the cashier's face, proclaiming, "I only have this! Let me pay first. She can wait."

I think I could have kicked him in the shins for that. That is, if I was older. But I was much younger and all I remembered was being confused and outraged. Thankfully, the Very Unamused female cashier gave the man a disapproving look and told him 'politely' to fuck off. An older friend of mine began glaring at that man, literally unsheathing her kitty claws and all too prepared to spit fire.

The idiot man, thankfully, had the wits to back off. I didn't tell anyone about this 'enlightening' incident, but it stayed with me for years.

Generally, I would like to think that I'm rather tolerant towards most matters. I've endured spitting, vomiting and belching. I've dealt with obnoxious family members and even more offensive 'friends'. (Well, it's not as if I'm a Mary Sue, so you can say I'm being a hypocrite.) But I will not and cannot permit discrimination against women. That, and abuse towards children and animals.

Just this week -or was it the last?- I had yet another fateful meeting with male chauvinism. I won't tell you who it was, or where I met the man, but his words offended me so badly, my blood pressure skyrocketed. Oh, and then came along his partner in crime with a dick with the foulest mouth ever, and I almost chucked my textbook at them then and there. Screw discipline and rules.

How glad are you people that I had several lackeys to hold me back from pummeling them? Very? Good. Because while I admit to being coarse and vulgar, never hesitating to use a barrage of curse words that would make a sailor blush, I have never intentionally be outright RUDE (again, unless you say something that makes my eyebrow twitch. Then there goes the leash.) I like being alive, thank you very much.

But that boy- that maggot, derisory, imbecilic cretin-! *bangs head against wall* I can continue this rampage by calling him countless names you will never let your children hear, but now I'm just despairing over how the world HASN'T change. Humans have yet to learn humility and humbleness- instead, we are belittling and insulting everyone but ourselves. We blame every living soul but ourselves for our mistakes. We are all guilty of hubris. No matter how saintly a person presents himself/herself to the world, it is still here. Mark my words. After all, according to psychology majors, acts of kindness are merely acts of selfishness. Hypocrites through and through.

Maybe after a day of indulging myself in ice cream, I will allow my cynic side to fade. But for now, reflect.

[EDIT]


It's finally OVER. I ran through the last 4k words like they were ants over honey. Thank heavens for insane bursts of inspiration- thank you, muse! I have not procrastinated, whee~ Now I just want to crawl into bed, bury my face into my pillow and do something undemanding. Maybe I should dream of Thanksgiving dinner. Turkey, potatoes, roast lamb-!

Great. Now I'm hungry.

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Thursday, November 24, 2011
 The Cosmos Is Made of Chocolate
 
Listening to: Sakura no Kinoshita - KOKIA

Last Watch/Read: Persona 4 The Animation Episode 3

*cackles like a deranged woman*


42004 / 50000 words. 84% done!

6 days to go, with 8000 words left to go. Still not talking about it, since the story is going in a spectacular spiral of failure. A lot of wikipedia-ing!

I've on my way to the 14th chapter this time. Indian food, you are killing me. Why must you look so appetizing when all I'm stuck with is instant noodles?

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Thursday, November 10, 2011
 The Way To My Heart = Witty Food Analogies!
 
Listening to: I Left My Heart In San Francisco - Tony Bennett

Last Watch/Read: To Kill A Mockingbird - Harper Lee

10 days of NaNoWriMo have passed! Authors, where the heck are you at? What is your word count? How goes the story? Are you cheating on your characters and premise like I am? Have you wavered from your plot? Have you rooted yourself to the chair and glued your hands to the keyboard? Or have you *gasp* caught on to the dreaded writer's block? Dear me, I hope not.

For me, the difficult part was writing out a decent prologue that doesn't make me want to tear my hair out. It's probably because I'm a pessimists who whines on about my muse. Doesn't help that I'm also a raging control freak with inner editor issues; drabbles make me so much happier because I can happily putter away without any regards for beginnings and endings. So far, I've finished the third chapter and roughly done with the fourth and fifth. That's about 40 plus pages that I don't hate, and another 10 more that are going to be flushed down the loo. But hey, fourty pages! It's a minor miracle, right? Right?

Unfortunately and sad to say, I have no idea where I'm going after the fifth chapter- maybe it's because my mind just mentally backhanded me and screeched words like, "This is horrible! Are you not ashamed of yourself? How can you produce this monstrosity? Are your writer's senses not offended?" followed by a long string of curses that remains unspeakable of.

But anyway, I've already exceeded my quota! *cackles like a deranged woman* The first few days, I was roughly over 4-5k words behind. Then in the middle of the night, the spark of lunacy flickered on and I bolted up from bed, switched on my laptop, opened my Word processor, sat down and wrote and wrote and... wrote. I was dead tired for my Introduction to Organisation and Management lecture the very next day, but hey, it was worth it. Maybe.

Problems? Hmm, well. My assignments are due the week after next, and I need to take time off my writing to complete that dastardly project. Sadly, it's also a group work, and I'm begging that my partners will not screw me up too badly. Damn project is worth 20% in the finals- if my 'A' becomes out of reach because of those -male- assholes, I will turn into a quivering ball of rage, go completely ballistic and proceed to rip out their testicles. This is then followed by a minor ITS test, then drama rehearsals with a bunch with insolent fools. I just feel like ignoring it all; god, I suck.


18995 / 50000 words. 38% done! 

30,000+ words to go! Oh god, I'm not sure if I can do this. Maybe halfway I'd just throw my hands up in disgust and say, "Whatever! Fakata this shit! I'm throwing all this crap out!" Yes, it has happened before. Brr.

Oh, and will someone teach me how to hack into a livejournal community? JK, JK. But I really need to learn knitting. Never expect myself to pick up a hobby so drastically... feminine. Oh, and WeatherByte says that there might be a chance of storm tomorrow- I hope not! I don't want to tread over puddles of muddy water and get my Hush Puppies wet. La, that sounds so elitish and snobbish. But it's true. I don't want to travel home wet like a dog who has just been through the washing machine!

Cheers to homosexuals and transsexuals all over the world! I'm openly supporting the Seksualiti Merdeka (Sexuality Independence) campaign and boo to those Malaysians who advocate bashing. You should be ashamed of yourselves; you condemn such people of their 'sinful' behaviour and make frequent threats and criticism in relation to their apparent 'abnormal' sexuality, and yet you people approve of Palestine's disgusting conduct towards Israel. What next, are you going to blame the whole of Europe and USA for all the hedonism in the world? Such self-righteousness and shameless prurience in the name of your precious God and religion only serves to show the world how biased you guys can be. Abolish homophobia and transphobia, people! Long live sexual diversity!

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I'm not saying anything about the government! So let's avoid meeting in court, mm?

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Saturday, October 29, 2011
 Insert Something Witty Here...
 
Listening to: 後樂園 - F.I.R.

 Last Watch/Read: Magic Study - Maria V. Snyder

I vow to update at least once per month. It's the 30th of October, so I'm aware I'm stretching it thin here. Hmm... what to say? God, I'm awesomely boring. God, Prussia is invading my vocabulary. God, Hetalia has invaded my life. I love Iggy!

To sum it this month? I was ill. I joined NaNoWriMo 2011. It was my birthday a few days back. Kinda like Arson, Murder and Jaywalking, don't you think? Yes, TvTropes has ruined my life. It's like rick-rolling; you just can't stop there. Oh, and the cow bitch has moved out. She's two doors away, which means I get to have the whole room to myself! I went on an Oktoberfest joyride once this truth shone on my ass. Haha. Lord, that's so parasitical of me.

I want to say that I've gone on an epic adventure, one that entails me travelling to Egypt to discover zombified mummies and banishing them with a holographic staff. I want to say that I've been to Atlantis, came face to face with a Kraken, and almost got tentacle-d. I want to say that I want to say that my life has become a Kingdom Hearts-esque world, filled with cute kids with lethal keys and literally heartless people. But then I would be lying.

Small yey!-I-turned-(insert age here)-birthday celebration? Tick. Formal presentation in which I proudly dissected gender discrimination? Check. Emily Dickinson, J.R. Ward and Kresley Cole? Priceless. Again, I do not make sense. Sue. Me. Wait, on second thought, don't. I don't have a lawyer in the family.

College is boring. The second semester is like crawling through putty. No handsome guys in sight. More books to peruse. Sigh; life. No wonder Fate has such a long bitching line. Sadly, She always wins. As my muse does, and no thanks to her, my fingers flew over the keyboard and the next thing I knew, I was signing up for NNWM. Can I produce 50,000 words? Yes, no problemo. Can I handle my trainwrecks? Can I handle bursts of inspiration and long periods of brainblocking? Can I handle other plots creeping up on me, which therein forces me to cheat on my current story? Um, no, no and no. I hate me sometimes. I think I will be coming out of November in a bleary daze.

The conversation between me and my muse goes as such:

Muse argues, "But you've been doing NaNoWrimo for three years! What's wrong with 2011?"

I slam my head on the keyboard, "1. College. 2. Facebook. 3. Exams. 4. COCKBLOCKS. Oh, and my plots are convoluted. Convoluted, I say! I know that all crack will eventually turn to angst, so what's the bloody point? Do I really want to write about a villainess who is a hybrid of Cleopatra, Medusa and Hecate? Can I make my protagonist Joker/Heath-Ledgeresque? Why are you doing this to me?"

"You're stunting your creativity! Remember that lemon incident with Parisian fountains and vials of sunlight? Remember that sticky, bound-to-death Macguffin? Remember *gasp* Hitler?" Muse throws her hands into the air.

"Shit," I curse as my writer's block goes away and the words start flowing, "I hate you. I really do. Go away. You fuck up my life."

But I ended up signing up for the whole damn thing anyway. Oops, look at the time. Must go and tend to my crops on CV. Tata. If you're still around.

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Sunday, September 4, 2011
 Life, A Slave Driver
 
Listening to: The House That Built Me- Miranda Lambert

 Last Watch/Read: Conan The Barbarian (2011)

I have one thing to say: SEMESTER BREAKS ARE AWESOME.

My exams finished on the 25th last month. Prior to that, every college student was studying like mad -except for my roommate who never seems to make any time for revision and every time she screws up my concentrating by watching her TVB shows and turning up the volume LOUD, I'm this close to throttling her- and I baked in the seasonal summer heat.

My own precious laptop was being repaired 200 kilometers away, so I had to live without my baby for a whole 2-3 weeks. But I find that the lack of distractions tends to cultivate a helluva motivation for productivity. I was cramming an average of 6-7 hours of studying per day! It wasn't fun, since most of the studying list went like, "Read chapter 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10. Godspeed."  I had to plow through weeks worth of lecture notes, and by the end, my brain was literally mush.

We had the Ethnics Relationships paper first, and I eased through that with a clog in my throat. Quantitative Studies was the last on the list, and also the most stressful. I loathe Calculus with a passion. Who gives a damn about Probability Distribution? A fellow student had a nervous breakdown in the midst of it all, and I have all sorts of sympathy for that. I cringed a lot through the paper and wanted to beat it with a bat.

On the 26th -after an disastrous argument in the early morning with ze roommate who shall therein be known as the cow bitch from now on- I dashed like Speedy Gonzales (think Arriba!Arriba!) to the train station for an overdue holiday home. Said terminal was jam-packed with humans, luggage bags and crying children. Cue more headdesking.

But yey, partial freedom for three weeks?

Yesterday, my favourite cousin (finally!) married her boyfriend of 6 years. It was a very traditional Asian ceremony; I felt as if I was in a Hong Kong drama series. Unfortunately, I could not be completely delighted for the happy couple because 1) I did not sleep the night before. Nada. Zip. Not even an hour of much-needed ZZZ, which admittedly, is my fault and 2) Last minute bridal fanfare recruitment! I was bleary-eyed the whole way through.

Picture spamming ahead ahoy!


Cuteness personified? Do not be fooled! These were the uhm, delicacies we prepared for the groom's entourage. Featuring: tomatoes, wasabi and cucumbers on crackers. *winces* I had no part in this fiasco.


Bitter gourd soaked in vodka. Yours truly choked on the smell.


Sour lime. Youch. But so very lenient compared to the two torture devices above, yes?


The groom arriving with his band of merry Sherwood men! Sorry my bad. Just couldn't resist the Robin Hood reference. At least he doesn't look as if he's marching for Death? Again, bad pun.


GAY P0RN! Not really. I wish. See that marshmallow? Mmm. Don't ask me what they were doing.


30 minutes before this scene: Yanks, stomps, screams, threats. Girls: barricading the door like dragons guarding the princess. Boys: ferocious, pillaging knights aiming for the treasure. It was like a scene out of a twisted fairy-tale. And I have bad, bad euphemisms. The bride looks pretty, no? *pokes* If you say otherwise, I might just have to crawl out of the screen and break your spine. 


Take 1: The 5-second kiss. 


Take 2: The everyone-demands-for-a-longer-kissu! kiss


Take 3: In which the groom kisses his mother-in-law. My aunt look absolutely thrilled at the prospect. 


Take 4: Where the gay friend of the bride attempts to smooch the groom but fails miserably at it. :D


Picture interlude! The corsage I wore. I hate corsages. A lot of shuffling.


Harem time! The bride and groom posing with his entourage. Lots of bangs and shenanigans about. I think I made a wisecracking joke on this scenario, but for the life of me I cannot remand what it was. 


A lot of D'AWWW-they-are-adorable cat-calls. 


At least the groom isn't a party-pooper. And I brought along Ken Follet to ward off boredom. 

The evening dinner was a whirlwind banquet. Plenty of food and alcoholic beverages going around, but thankfully no karaoke. Mmm. I still don't like weddings, but I'm happy for them. No pictures because I was in 4 inches heels and I'm relatively scarred and traumatized from the experience. Getting to the toilet because I overdosed on Coke was a painful, painful walk. And eating all that tiger-prawns was a nauseating experience. The steamed fish and sticky rice was pretty good though. 

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I wish I had a genie.

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Monday, July 25, 2011
 Must Refrain From Killing The Messenger
 
Listening to: Brahms-Symphony No.1, 4th Movement

Last Watch/Read: The Mosquito Coast (1986)

MY LECTURER IS GOING TO DYE HER HAIR PURPLE/VIOLET/LAVENDER/WHATEVER IF 98% OF US PASSES THE FINAL IA EXAMINATIONS.
Apparently, she's quite serious. I decipher this as 'nah, impossible for all of them to pass.' Logical, actually, because 2011's batch of accountancy student is the largest so far and 0.98 of that population is 882 students.

Like, whateverrrr. Who the hell cares if she paints it green or pours a whole tub of orange down her head? No one. I'm procrastinating like hell because nothing and everything amuses me; I tend to bitch up like a storm when my own self contradicts me. What else?

Ah, yes. Examinations. The bane of my very existence. There are so many unhealthy rumours flitting around the campus, and everyone is panicking and running wild in their diapers because the timetable hasn't been released and the dates change as often as my underwear. The good thing is, most of my papers obtain 60% of the marks from our previous coursework, most of which functions as monthly tests. I think I did averagely well (because no one wants to boast about just-right-there marks) except for goddamn Quantitative Studies which never make sense to my flighty head. Even Microeconomics, for all it's complicated graphs and endless demand-and-supply theories interests me more than index numbers and god-knows-what-this-abominable-thing-is. I have a non-existential span of attention for math-related things. Clearly I need to rethink my priorities. Or is this self-asphyxiation? Sheesh.

English class last week was... weird. We had to write an essay which either began or ended with an oddly-stocked phrase the teacher would give us, and I opted for the latter. "I would never forget that moment in my life" was my prompt, and goodness me, the muse of tragedy within me that only seems to pop up at the silliest moment choose to make her very overdue appearance. I WROTE ABOUT A FUNERAL, FUCKERS, but it really isn't about one. More about the twisted, paranoid guilt that springs up from the ugliest places of a human heart and blah blah blah. Very Camelot-dark-ages like. I'm such a dork when it comes to writing proper, factual essays though, because that's hellishly boring and I despise doing research. Unless it's criticism, opinion-based composition, by then which my inner cynic, feminist kicks it and I'm on a roll.

On the other hand, my roommate is limping on one sprained foot. My reaction was generally amused exasperation and indifference, until I realized that since she couldn't attend classes, she would be in the dorm ALL THE FREAKING TIME. YES, THAT DEMANDS CAPS LOCK. Then I proceeded to wall-bang my forehead several times before vowing to stay out of her way. Which is why I am currently in the glacier-like library, freezing my ass off while typing this post out (and waiting for the third episode Usagi Drop to finish downloading. Yey for free wi-fi!). My fingers, thankfully, have not numbed. And why do I complain so much?

So, list of stuff I need to do for this f*king week:

1) Finish all my tutorials and prep for exams <-- not looking forward to either of them. What can I say?

2) Attend this ridiculous but mandatory workshop this Wednesday that guides you like a primary school kid through examinations. Christ!

 3) Renew my application for the college's hostel. There goes another 800 bucks for the next semester. But I really, really don't want to rent a room outside of college. Chalk it up to pure practicality and frugality. Even if the showers have no hot water.

On a side note, I'm amazed by how much people can spend (no, not you, mother. Those leather bags were worth the price tag, damn it). I've been stalking browsing through the other blogs of my former classmates of the Methodist Girls School, and well, seriously, a college student should not be having Starbucks and restaurant food on a daily basis. I didn't know why, but I face-palmed for the 2967th time this month upon seeing all that wastage. Ahhh god, I have to finish the Scarlet Letter but it's hellishly depressing and frustrating and so long-winded and I hate Roger Chillingworth. Nathaniel Hawthorne exhausts me with his endless lyrical words and ancient Victorian-esque phrases. Ah god whyyyyy do you do this to meeee?

Though YES FUCK YES FINALLY AFTER GOD-KNOWS HOW MANY YEARS OF WAITING to A Dance of Dragons.

What the hell why is Avril Lavigne's new album so catchy? She's a 27-year old singer who never dresses her age and has songs with teenage-d lyrics! Ugh, this makes my head hurt.

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Wednesday, June 29, 2011
 Yo, I Have An Inexplicable Red Ass
 
Listening to: Stray Italian Greyhound- Vienna Teng

Last Watch/Read: On The Beat- Wong Chun Wai (Honourable Mentions: X-Men First Class)

I realize that I haven't updated in forever, but I have been fucking exhausted.

College life is tough. Irredeemably tough. I feel as if I've been wrung dry within a span of 6 whole weeks, especially when I'm hunched over my textbooks -several times thicker than my reference books back in high school!- and my roommate is watching some god-forbid TVB drama that drives me insane. She's in advertising. I'm in accounting. There's a huge gap between us; namely, she's a f*king social butterfly and I'm the exact opposite: an antisocial queen of snark. And she has no sense of privacy, a trait which I despise in certain people.

Stop the invasion! I can sue you for mental harassment!

So far, I'm faring quite well in my studies. Microeconomics is relatively easy if you can get over all that useless jargon. Ditto for Introduction to Accounting, which I have a basis in. English Language is child's play, and Ethnics Relationship is just plain useless for the course. The one trouble I have is Quantitative Studies, which is a repeat of Statistics and Calculus and Arithmetic. The subject promptly makes my head explode on scene. I have a lecture in an hour, and I can foresee myself doodling Giorgio Armani's face on a scrap piece of paper I'd managed to salvage through a foray of endless information instead of taking proper notes.

Whichever way it goes, QS still manages to make me feeling like an asshole. Or an idiotic asshole. Take it however you want.

Conversations will generally go this way:

"Hey, do you know the tally to this *insert random question number here*? Because I'm getting *insert random 4 decimal point number here*, and that's less that *insert more numbers here*. And that is just so fucking wrong."

Scribbles. "It's *insert correct answer here*. You probably should've pressed *more numbers* on the calculator and have it subtracted by this, then you divide this by this... blah yadda yadda." More scribbles.

Pause. Awkward coughing. "Oh. Uhm. Right. Thanks."

See? Exhausted. And generally useless. That's little ol' me. English generally goes better though, but only by a margin. The teacher doesn't pick on me because I AM her best student -I beam in her class all the time because I don't need to do a single thing that requires me to work my brains. Yey!- but everyone else gets the brute of her humour. A very bad sense of humour. Which is occasionally a good thing because it tickles me, but the rest of my classmates are noticeably not amused. In her class, I tend to capitalize words unnecessarily.

I hate Wednesdays because classes start at 8 and I have to be up by 6:30 if I don't want to wrestle with my fellow dormers for the showers. But I loathe Tuesdays even more. My activities on the second day of the week generally goes this way...

11am-12:30pm Yuck. Ethnics Relationships tutorial. Must... not... fall... asleep...

2pm-4pm IA Lecture. More yawns. The costs and expenses occurred are to be matched with the revenue earned... yeah, yeah. I already studied this last year in high school. You're now looking at a petrified block of wood.

4:15pm-5:45pm Quantitative Studies tutorial. What is this blob on my paper? I might as well just play Reversi on my handphone. Oh, a crossword puzzle!

Dunk, rinse and repeat. Except on Thursdays, where I don't have classes but there's more cramming to be done because Someone Up There hates me and my life. I generally like Monday classes best because it only consists of one IA tutorial and the tutor is pleasantly happy. And then I will lug my laptop and books to the glacier-like library and freeze my ass off for three hours because there is simply nothing to do back in the dorms. (No, they're not air-conditioned. Fuck my life.)

On the bright side...

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...

THERE IS NO BRIGHT SIDE. FUCKTARDS.

I will be more comprehensive when I have sufficient sleep. Fucking roommate slept at two in the morning and I wake up to Korean imbeciles singing gaudy pop songs. This is why I hate the Hallyu wave. The culture can invade Malaysia for all I care, but you DO NOT MESS WITH MY SLEEP.

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Monday, June 6, 2011
 Where The Fairer Sex Is Not Advocated By These Idiotic Bitches
 
Listening to: Chatters

Last Watch/Read: The Economist (October 2010)

I was home for a brief respite from the horror that is college when an article in The Star caught my eye. In all its blasted, red glory, the words adorning the front page was promptly,


MALAYSIA LAUNCHES THE OBEDIENT WIFE CLUB

Cue several blinks of disbelief. More blinks. Then the feminist in me exploded in all her flaming glory and -in the process of burning a hole through the paper with my laser eyes- I promptly shrieked in outrage when I noted such phrases: "[...] domestic violence, infidelity and prostitution stemmed from a lack of belief in God and a failure of women to satisfy their husbands..." as well as "A man married to a woman who is as good or better than a prostitute in bed has no reason to stray [...]"

And to make it even more possibly horrifying, the 'club' is founded by a woman! Have you no dignity? Shame? Your claims to fight divorce and domestic abuse is merely adding salt to wounds; men tend to think with their dicks, not their heads! My friend equated such actions to violent imans preaching hatred and anti-Semitism, and I had to agree. The only reason such a laughable concept could be materialized into reality in the 20th century is because these people are non-educated, perhaps even turning a blind eye and a deaf ear to the sufferings experienced by women all over the world. There are wives and children who are assaulted by husbands who are simply animals, women who tolerate maltreatment by men simply because the country does not see their gender as an equal to those individuals with penises.

This club dishonours women from all over the world. I am simply disgusted by how these imbeciles view themselves as martyrs to their spouse. Or perhaps they founded this silly group because they are attention-whores, desperate. I have nothing against a person wanting their 15-minutes of fame, but claiming that it is a woman's fault in marital disharmony -what a load of garbage!- is just begging for people to run after them with pitchforks and bulldozers.

This is beyond idiocy. You have peas for brains, don't you? Continue blabbering on about your polygamous marriage and senseless devotions. It just goes to show how faithless you are.

[EDIT]

This is made of pure win.

Read this here: UK Spies Hacks Into AL-Qaeda, Replaces Bomb Info With Cupcake recipes.

Oh, England. You're a precious, precious gem. What would I do without you for amusement?

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Friday, April 1, 2011
 Foreshadowsing Is A Hamlet Play
 
Listening to: When Will My Life Begin- Mandy Moore

Last Watch/Read: Mixed Magics- Diana Wynne Jones

Happy Thing #7 and #8

Yes, I'm aware that I'm cheating, but seeing as how it has been fourteen days since my last blog post, I think I'm quite entitled to that. Anyhow, I received my letter of acceptance into college yesterday and passed my driving test. *insert synchronized booty-shaking here* However, I'm still horribly terrified of steering a vehicle though- the paranoia within me screams the indescribable possibility of my ramming the car into a lamppost or running over some poor old lady's cat.

College is still a far road ahead, but I'm printing out checklists and looking for advice around the internet to prepare myself for the long life ahead. The good thing is, I'd be rooming at the hostels with a friend whom I've known since I was fourteen. Sadly, she's taking a course in counselling and I'm majoring in business (accounting). I foresee dwindling days of freedom and caffeine in my bloodstream when we start reviewing the Principles of Auditing and Basic Taxations. I am screwed.

Lecturer (with a scalpel in hand): When was the Sarbanes-Oxley Act enacted?
Me: (stammers SO eloquently) I don't know?
Lecturer: -that is just so pathetic-

Over the internet, a friend said that she forked out over 800 dollars in worth for bucks when she was studying law. I think I might just drown myself in mind-bogglingly good chocolate dessert if I had to paid that much for books. But what a way to go.

Anyway, I watched the Liar Game j-drama Season 1 + Season 2 + The Movie over a span of two weeks, and basically, I like to judge my shows into 3 categories:
Plot-wise, I was quite impressed. The psychological games and analytical skills of several characters kept me on my toes for the whole fanfare. It derailed just slightly from the original manga by Shinobu Kaitani, but remained an interesting premise. I could see Matsuda Shota in the role of Akiyama Shin'ichi, the genius swindler; thank heavens for his presence. Most complexed gambits would unresolved in my teensy brain without his explanations. Anyhow, Matsuda appears mostly deadpan, somewhat stern and snarky. He operates on intelligence, pure slickness and basically, anything he has the slightest advantage over. Cue much squeeing.

Erika Toda was a wise choice for the role of Nao. Though I initially had my suspicions of her character -with her playing Misa Amane in Death Note and all- but she managed to portray that naivety and honest personality rather well. It rather irked me how she was the damsel in distress and was tossed around like a shiny new toy among less moralized characters, but the 2nd season really did managed to showcase her growth. Hmm.

There wasn't much chemistry between the two protagonist, seeing as how the producers were trying to cram 10 volumes worth of details into twenty episodes, albeit with different individuals. The shippers were much disappointed! Yokoya did managed to make the ongoing feud much more interesting by kicking the dog AKA telling how he was indirectly responsible for the suicide of Akiyama's mother. Cue Roaring Rampage of Revenge- Akiymama losing control and screaming at Yokoya was really not a scene I liked, despite it being heartwrenching. (It was later revealed as a ploy to get that self-depreciating bastard to lower his defences. Hear the sigh of relief?)

Season 2's antagonist featured Katsuragi Ryo. A manipulative bitch who is also a prodigy professor, it was revealed that Katsuragi majored at Psychology along with Akiyama at the same university. This was an original character that differed from the manga (Yokoya remains the villain there). She was the player everyone expected to win. there's also an underlying feud between her and Akiyama. The latter was The Ace, and Katsuragi suffered a grades complex from constantly being defeated by him in their studies. Again, major showdown! It did seemed for a moment as if Katsuragi was going to win and leave the others in the gutter, but the Power of Friendship wins yet again; Nao and Akiyama moves on to the Final Stage, which in the players are involved in a game call the Garden of Eden and there are gold, silver and red apples involved in they must vote using these apples and earn god-knows-how-much-millions and there are a person equally tricky as Akiyama called X... look, just go watch it.

Scribbling wise, Hannah and I just began on a collaboration, the title being When Euphoria Falters (And Pieces of Consequences). Since it was made on crack, we pretty much just factored in our author avatars until it became Serious Business. So far, I'm writing the first two chapters by myself with a head that is not too clear and my Muse vacationing somewhere with her boyfriend AKA my Procrastinator. I will blog about this another day.

RIP Diana Wynne Jones, thy legendary authoress. You WILL be sorely missed. On a happier note, Happy April's Fool day, people!

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Wednesday, March 16, 2011
 I Am A Democratic Drawbridge
 
Listening to: Chocolat- Tcy Force

Last Watch/Read: The Encyclopedia of Useless Information- William Hartston

I just realize that I've abandoned my blog for weeks now. Has it really been a month since I last posted here? It's mostly because I went into a mini funk because of real-life stressful situations and all- I haven't quite made a full-fledged return yet, but I'm almost there.

Yesterday, I went out with my juniors to celebrate Hannah's belated birthday. we were supposed to go and watch a movie -I Am Number Four, starring that rather delectable Alex Pettyfer- then have lunch, but a minor fiasco happened. The five of us bought tickets, yet only the three of us made it into the cinema. Poor Julian ended up sitting outside at the cinema lounge waiting for another friend, who was late. Then the employees wouldn't allow them entrance because the movie was halfway screening. Sometimes, I have to shake my head at karma.

Movie wise, the plot is abominably cliche. I know the male lead seems rather charming and blah blah, but my hands itched so badly to wrench his neck. That's not to say I didn't enjoy 'John Smith's' last 15 minutes of decent ass-kicking, but he just bugged me. Theresa Palmer as Number 6 was outright impressive. Leather + dirty blonde + gun-toting chick + also uses a... sword-like weapon thing? + red-hot bike = Thank you, god. Ditto for adorkable Callan McAuliffe. I only wish for a sequel for more subsequent appearances of Number 6 and Sam. Yes!

Oh, and Hannah and I were being shameless by muttering tropes from TV Tropes to each other. I think the viewers sitting behind me were resisting the urge to pelt us with empty coke bottles.

Lunch was also a momentous affair. Needless to say, we were all acting like drama-queens. I was forced to describe the events that occurred in Black Swan, since I was the only one who's age actually qualified my presence at the theaters. Here was to hoping that I actually deterred them from taking a peek at BS; Hannah was clamping her ears shut the whole time I babbled about the gory scenes. Then someone ordered a jumbo ice cream called 'Sharing The Summer'. That was an amusing affair. Then I dropped the cucumbers for the 'Mother Nature' drink. Not so amusing. The birthday girl forked out 80+ dollars for the meal, which made me felt just slightly guilty about not paying my share.

Anyway, we all agreed on visiting the cyber-cafe for a bit of entertainment, only to find out that it was fully booked. Too lazy to go bowling, so we opted for the nearest diversion outlet: Karaoke. 15 bucks for an hour- well worth the price. It was also the longest hour of my life. The girls sang K-Pop themed songs, while I belted out a duet of Mizu no Akashi with Hannah. Oh, and there was a fascinating rendition of Paparazzi. I think one of my veins exploded. Or I possibly went deaf. High Octane Nightmare Fuel indeed. I think that girl's voice can be declared dangerous in three different countries!

Then... we split up. Two cam-whores went about flitting with make-up items, while us bookworms opted for the local bookstore. I had no idea why we ended up conversing in Japanese and drinking coca-cola later.

All in all, the day was a blast. Maybe there's hope for a socially-awkward person such as myself? You can read things from Hannah's POV here at Drops of Rose.

And no, I didn't forget:

Happy Thing #6

After doodling out a fictional map for a collaboration, I've discovered that I really enjoy using the Paint accessory, whether to sketch out geographical constructions or relationship charts. Photoshop still has nothing on Paint, I say! Of course, the latter is much more preferable to use when I need to vector, but why can't it be as simplified as it's much, much older brother? Why?

On a more serious note...

In light of the natural disasters occurring in Japan, please donate to these charitable organizations. God help these people, and damn those constantly warring countries. Lives are being lost due to unforeseen circumstances, and yet these people insist on shedding needless blood. Damn well it's time for that tyrant Gaddafi to step down from his reign. And Malaysians who are worrying about their holidays and money due to this tragedy, I say that lost lives is nothing in comparison to having a miniature hole at your pocket. Have a heart, people! Even stingy ol' me donated via Farmville cash!

Send your donations here, here or here.

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Tuesday, February 22, 2011
 What Is Thy's First Wish?
 
Listening to: Love The Way You Lie- Eminem feat. Rihanna

Last Watch/Read: The Robber Bride- Margaret Atwood

Day 5 of the meme...

Happy Thing #5

My kink of British accents. And that is all we are ever going to discuss on said subject.


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........


Yey for ridiculously short post? I'm rather incomprehensible now; it makes me want to build an igloo in the midst of this hot summer weather.

Zack Fair is one sexy mofo.

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Sunday, February 20, 2011
 Union Jack Pillow For The Win
 
Listening to: Come Home- OneRepublic

Last Watch/Read: The Green Hornet (2011)

I'm backdating just slightly, but yes, it's the meme again.

Happy Thing #4

MY NEW HANDPHONE!


*brags brags brags*

While I know a Nokia C3 is nothing in comparison to the new iPhone 4, I had a minor epiphany in regards to these mobile phones and electronic devices: I bought my first and last phone seven years ago. Seven! I think this speaks of my eccentric attachment to inanimate objects, or perhaps it's pure frugality speaking. My laptop lasted for 5 years before crashing. I now have a new Asus A42J. This is phenomenal!

But seeing as how I am not a techno-geek who simply fails at navigating my new C3 without a proper manual, I spent three hours tweaking with my memory card and cursing up a storm when I couldn't sign in to my Facebook account because of the what-is-this-flipping-weak-signals. Maybe I should just avoid surfing the web on my phone because it's like a plague to my brains. But regardless, I had a holy crap I can fit 8 GB worth of files in here moment.

And I never thought I'd be saying this, but Shun Oguri is quite adorable.

And because this post is too bloody short for my own liking, I stole a meme from a friend's blog in order to extend it. And because I like the opportunity to bitch about everything I have a fascination for.

8 Questions That I Could Reply To One Fandom (I'm actually doing 3; one for Anime/Manga, one for Literature, and the final one for Live Action TV Series)

ANIME: Axis Power Hetalia

Favourite Character: A tie between England and Canada. Or maybe Prussia. Or Belgium.

Least Favourite Character: None, but if I must reply, then it would be Latvia. I can't say Belarus because Hannah might come after me with a chainsaw and I quite like her character in doujinshis. The same cannot be said for canon!Belarus.

Prettiest Character: ASGHJKLJHG Female!Russia and Female!England is outright so-so... I'm at a loss for words. On the other hand, Greece reminds me of a younger, unkempt version of Johnny Depp.

Least Favourite Pairing: America/Russia. Two Yanderes? I think not.

Character That I Want To Marry: DO YOU THINK I'M SUICIDAL OR SOMETHING WTF-

Favourite Pairing: You have to ask? The almost canon US/UK! One-sided love is dramatically under appreciated. Obvious is obvious.

Favourite Episode/Character/Scene: America's Cleaning Out The Storage. Plain tear-jerkish, if not outright frustrating. The Belligerent/Unresolved Sexual Tension is getting to my inner-fujoishi-fan hormones. I might just curl up and rot due to withdrawal. Then again, I also love the scene in which Canada PWNS! America by giving the latter a three-hour rant about his failures. Why so MOEEEE even when you're angry?

Unpopular Opinion: I wished people would stop taking Hetalia literally. Yes, it is probably rather offensive, but Hetalia is also educational, irrelevantly silly, occasionally touching and it spawned many, many worthwhile fanfictions on the LJ. Stop complaining about shows you don't watch, people!


LITERATURE: Percy Jackson And The Olympians

Favourite Character: Percy. Duh. But only because his sarcastic and witty inner monologue amuses me. Thalia comes a close second, with Hestia tagging behind.

Least Favourite Character: The Titans are all assholes.

Prettiest Character: Silena, probably. Her death broke my heart.

Least Favourite Pairing: Percy/Luke. No way in the Underworld this is happening.

Character That I Want To Marry: Again, I'd rather be with someone who is so plainly boring and normal. No point risking my life with a demigod who might or might not end the world due to some silly prophecy. And the Oracle needs a new job.

Favourite Pairing: Thalia and Luke. Google for 'The Three Lives of Luke Castellan' and you will understand why. I also ship Nico/Rachel, though not as passionately as I do for Thalia/Luke. Then again, Word of God also said that the ship was sank, so...

Favourite Episode/Character/Scene: SO FRIKKING MANY. I can't settle with one, so I'll start off with the Percy+Calypso scenes. That was bordering on Tear Jerker moments, knowing that Percy would never see her again. A-And Hades' Crowning Moment of Awesome when he arrives at Manhattan to flip the finger at Kronos. I was practically hyperventilating then. Grover and co. discovering Pan. Many, many more. I could just go on the whole night.

Unpopular Opinion: I have nothing to comment. Mythological inaccuracies don't bother me the least.


LIVE ACTION TV SERIES: Supernatural

Favourite Character: Castiel. Dean tips the scale too.

Least Favourite Character: Oh, Sammy, what happened to you? You were once likable! But I still think that Jared Padalecki is ridiculously attractive, regardless of his character's questionable actions.

Prettiest Character: Castiel. D'uh. Misha Collins is outright Estrogen Brigade Bait. Wait, make that the whole cast. Even if they are jerks with hearts of jerks.

Least Favourite Pairing: I have none. No, seriously.

Character That I Want To Marry: For some wacky reason, Gabriel. The scene of The Trickster standing up to Lucifer and telling him to to see the Spearmint Rhino made my heart crinkle into a muddy puddle. Sadly, the confrontation ended tragically. Excuse me while I gobble down tons and tons of Brain Bleach and have the caffeine evaporate from my bloodstream.

Favourite Pairing: Win!cest. Dean/Castiel works too. But despite this being one of my favourite shows (I wanted to do CSI:NY at first), I'm not really a hardcore shipper in regards to the pairings in Supernatural. Meh.

Favourite Episode/Character/Scene: "Did you just molotov my brother Michael with holy fire?" and Castiel watching porn. This line is precious- "If the pizza man truly loves the babysitter, then why does he keep hitting her rear? Perhaps she's done something wrong?" Watch it and start convoluting in laughter. And need I mention 'My Bloody Valentine' in which they encounter a naked Cupid?

Unpopular Opinion: Some people need to stay dead. Some... don't. And I wish they'd stop harping about Dean's time in Hell. That was difficult to watch.

End of my caffeinated induced rant. I need to sleep. And I'm trying hard at NOT thinking about my driving lessons. Chalk it up to traumatic childhood experience and lack of coordination skills.

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Saturday, February 12, 2011
 Pain In Proverbial Fanny
 
Listening to: Antebellum- Vienna Teng

Last Watch/Read: The Guns of August- Barbara Tuchman

Continuing with the meme...

Happy Thing #3

Bickering with Hannah over MSN and facebook; our passionate love-hate affair over religious concerns, politics, geography, history and gay porn has made it to the front page of New York Times bestseller! She's my evil wench-in-crime in regards to lambasting the Issue-That-Shall-Remain-Unspoken of. I terrorize her when my relatives terrorize me. And we exchange text messages about the WEIRDEST things, which will eventually snowballed into us frantically sobbing over APH's angst in regards to Canada.

Now, let me post several snippets of our 'discussions' we had in regards to egoistical gods, Estrogen Brigade Baits, and incests. No, really.

January 4th

Me: I'm going to spend the rest of my day listening to Stephen Fry's orgasmic voice reading Harry Potter. Cha-cha.
Her: You are officially the biggest perv I know. On all internets!

January 20th

Her: Oh great, you are a depraved, perverted yaoi fangirl. The scariest sub-type of Homo sapiens, a rung down the ladder from dirty old men.

January 21st

Me: We're not in a Percy Jackson series, darling.
Her: I don't want any of those nut-case gods to be my parents. Why would I trade stability for that?

Me: So, next essay title: How to Be a Self-Absorbed Feminist Without Despising the Male Population.
Her: I wonder at the idiocy of the male race.

January 29th

Her: I'm not even surprised. Does that make me too much of a China bumpkin?
Me: *giggles behind the screen*

January 30th

*after a series of everlasting nudges over MSN*
Her: If this goes on, we'll be nudging each other the whole night!
Me: Alright, alright! at least we're not bored enough to eat crayons called Fun In The Sun with Outrage Orange.

February 6th

Me: Don't you know? I'm a manipulative, cynical, sarcastic teen with a dark sense of humour.
Her: I was well aware of that fact from the first day I met you. The sad thing is Ma-chan hasn't realised it even though she's known you longer

February 7th

Me: How does your concern for the future turn out to be this convoluted three way conversation?
Her: It grew a mind of its own. As always, we create monsters.

And speaking of which, I checked my e-mail hours ago, and found this amusing enough to post it here.

Title: Why Did The Chicken Cross The Road?

George W. Bush (43rd President of United States)

We don't really care why the chicken crossed the road. We just want to know if the chicken is on our side of the road or not. The chicken is either with us or it is against us. There is no middle ground here.

Al Gore (45th Vice President of United States)

I invented the chicken. I invented the road. Therefore, the chicken crossing the road represented the application of these two different functions of government in a new, reinvented way designed to bring greater services to the American people.

Colin Powell (65th United States Secretary of States)

Now at the left of the screen, you clearly see the satellite image of the chicken crossing the road.

Hans Blix (Swedish Diplomat/ Politician)

We have reason to believe there is a chicken, but we have not yet been allowed access to the other side of the road.

Mohammed Aldouri (Iraq's ambassador)

The chicken did not cross the road. This is a complete fabrication. We don't even have a chicken.

Saddam Hussein (5th President of Iraq; terrorist?)

This was an unprovoked act of rebellion and we were quite justified in dropping 50 tons of nerve gas on it.

Ralph Nader (American Attorney, Author, Lecturer... oh, just go wiki him)

The chicken's habitat on the original side of the road had been polluted by unchecked industrialist greed. The chicken did not reach the unspoiled habitat on the other side of the road because it was crushed by the wheels of a gas-guzzling SUV.

Pat Buchanan (American Conservative Political Commentator, Author... again, go wiki him)

To steal a job from a decent, hard-working American.

Rush Limbaugh (American Radio Talk Show Host, Conservative Political Commentator)

I don't know why the chicken crossed the road, but I'll bet it was getting a government grant to cross the road, and I'll bet someone out there is already forming a support group to help chickens with crossing-the-road syndrome. Can you believe this? How much more of this can real Americans take? Chickens crossing the road paid for by their tax dollars, and when I say tax dollars, I'm talking about your money, money the government took from you to build roads for chickens to cross.

Martha Stewart (Media Personality, Talk Show Host, Author)

No one called to warn me which way that chicken was going. I had a standing order at the farmer's market to sell my eggs when the price dropped to a certain level. No little bird gave me any insider information.

Jerry Falwell (Christian evangelical fundamentalist Southern Baptist pastor; very homophobic)

Because the chicken was gay! Isn't it obvious? Can't you people see the plain truth in front of your face? The chicken as going to the other side. That's what they call it-- the other side. Yes, my friends, that chicken is gay. And, if you eat that chicken you will become gay too.

Dr. Suess (American Writer and Cartoonist- Think Horton Hears a Who! and How The Grinch Stole Christmas as well as The Cat In The Hat)

Did the chicken cross the road?
Did he cross it with a toad?
Yes, the chicken crossed the road,
But why it crossed, I've not been told!

Ernest Hemingway (American Author and Journalist)

To die. In the rain. Alone.

Martin Luther King, Jr. (If you don't know who this person is, you can kindly go and screw yourself)

I envision a world where all chickens will be free to cross roads without having their motives called into question.

Grandpa

In my day, we didn't ask why the chicken crossed the road. Someone told us that the chicken crossed the road, and that was good enough for us.

Barbara Walters (American Broadcast Journalist and Author)

Isn't that interesting? In a few moments we will be listening to the chicken tell, for the first time, the heart-warming story of how it experienced a serious case of molting and went on to accomplish its life-long dream of crossing the road.

John Lennon (Refer to Martin Luther King, Jr.)

Imagine all the chickens crossing roads in peace.

Aristotle (Greek Philosopher)

It is the nature of chickens to cross the road.

Karl Marx (Too many to list; go wiki him. Again)

It was an historical inevitability.

Voltaire (Historian, Writer, and many other things on Wiki)

I may not agree with what the chicken did, but I will defend to the death its right to do it.

Ronald Reagan (40th President of United States)

What chicken?

Captain Kirk (Star Trek Fictional Character... let's not create another Internet Backlash)

To boldly go where no chicken has gone before.

Fox Mulder (The X Files Fictional Character)

You saw it cross the road with your own eyes! How many more chickens have to cross before you believe it?

Sigmund Freud (Austrian Neurologist, Founded Psychoanalytic School of Psychiatry)

The fact that you are at all concerned that the chicken crossed the road reveals your underlying sexual insecurity.

Bill Gates (Founder of Microsoft He Did Not Invent The Computer)

I have just released eChicken 2003, which will not only cross roads, but will lay eggs, file your important documents, and balance your checkbook- and Internet Explorer is an inextricable part of eChicken.

Albert Einstein (German Physicist, Father of Modern Psychics)

Did the chicken really cross the road or did the road move beneath the chicken?

Bill Clinton (42nd President of United States)

I did not cross the road with THAT chicken. What do you mean by chicken? Could you define chicken, please?

Colonel Sanders (Founder of Kentucky Fried Chicken)

I missed one?

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Tuesday, February 8, 2011
 Stop Your Tides At Vienna!
 
Listening to: Back To December- Taylor Swift

Last Watch/Read: Room- Emily Donoghue

Again with the meme...

Happy Thing #2

This is quite odd -yes, I admitted it myself!- but washing dishes makes me happy. Normally doing household chores irks me and drives me to do something incredibly undemanding such as snoozing or spending the day going into a mini funk, but I really, really like scrubbing away at pots, pans and dirty dishes. It's most likely the contribution of a warm dinner with my mother, but sometimes during the night when my infrequent insomnia arises, I tend to find myself in the kitchen, sorting out through the saucepans and my mother's invaluable Corelle dinnerware. Then I'd wonder: 'Have we used this before?' or even 'When did we buy this?'

There's a warm glow of satisfaction when I see things clean. Now if only I could say the same thing for my desk...

Meme aside, my brain exploded today. I woke up rather crankily, mostly due to a dream I had last night. I'm utterly bewildered by how heartbreakingly romantic it was, and told myself it wasn't normal. No, it wasn't. At least it wasn't risqué? Anyway, the characters of my dream were reminiscent of an old television drama I watched about six-seven years ago, about a May-December romance between an older man and a lass twenty years his junior. The male was a filthily-rich British proprietor of a hotel with no wife, no children. She, on the other hand, was a greeting card copywriter who was equally hapless and irritatingly bright. The feminine version of Joseph Gordon Levitt in (500) Days or Summer, perhaps? I love him.

But anyway, here was how it went. The man -let's call him Henry- chances upon the girl -this name leaped out at me from the baby name books: Ada- and it is love at first sight for Henry. Ada, however, considers him a father figure and regards his affection as a familial one. He goes to extreme lengths in order to gain her love, and succeeds by reenacting a scene from The Phantom of the Opera. However, when Henry proposes to Ada, she rejects him tearfully and leaves town. Henry then proceeds to spend years wallowing in self-pity, ignoring the letters Ada sends to him. He marries another woman, has a son, and divorces his wife when he discovers her having an affair.

The dream then spirals into the far future, at a city that resembles Sheffield, England. Henry is an old man now. His son, a young man studying at university, confesses to Henry that he has fallen in love with a woman older than him. Henry then remembers the times he relished with Ada, and finally, finally reading her letters, discovers that Ada has died of cancer. He then tells his son this phrase:

Do you want to take a leap of faith? Or become an old man like me, filled with regrets, waiting to die alone?

Then Henry dies. And the dream ended. It was godly, fitfully depressing, which prompted me to stretch my laxing writing muscles and dished out at least 4000+ words. Then my muse escape midst rant, and I was left hanging at the cliff. What made me think that this dream would make a good story? It was so depressingly cliche! A-And that reference from Inception, copied word for word! What was with that Erik-Raoul scene with Christine? Why am I having such deplorable dreams that makes it possible to be converted into a B-listed movie?

I think my heart broke many, many times over when I was dreaming this. Actually, I don't think- I know. God, have I missed writing angst.

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