Is my baby still my baby true?

I want to break free.

Beb Beb Beb Beb Beb Beb Beb Beb.

I have been extra-extra-bitchy nowadays. What with the exams going on, and to be the cherry on the fucking top, I have my period. So. The exam fever in good'old St.George's has spread. Instead of girls bitching and boys.. well being boys. We've now got students holding books in their hands with any chance they get. It's funny, when it's just laying on your shelf at home, just waiting to be read. You just leave it there, for the cobwebs to feed on. But when there's an exam right by the corner, the books are bestest friends in the world. Why can't we just be prepared? Why can't we prepare the right way? Ok, fine. Why can't I prepare for an exam or test or whatever the right way? Do I crave for the rush of studying, for the sleepless nights? Or does being a lazy slob than a prepared student sound more fun to me?

School has been a pain. I really still would like to know why it starts at such an ungodly hour? Lets say, if they agree (they being the adversaries of every student and teenage child that goes to school) to hmm i don't know just start school at 12pm? That way, both teachers and students can learn to compensate. They give us time to sleep, we return the knowledge they give us with good grades for our tests. Now doesn't that sound like fun?

I want to know when school became boring to me. I used to be the number one fan of school, even when I hadn't started school yet I was up-and-ready in Dana's old uniform just to send abang and kakak to school. I used to do my homework in the car on the home from school. School was my haven, but now.. it's kjngfsknfalmnglansg. I guess it just flows with the year, bite me 2007.

And as for you. I don't like you.

I have my period I therefore can legally kill you.

Oh, I'm sorry. Did my back hurt your knife? :) I will bitch-slap you black and blue. No wait, I will punch you black and blue. Ah kaya ah?

Banar!

I AM STARTING A PETITION.

I am going to get 100 people to sign to MAKE SURE the friggin canteen ladies where gloves and hairnets. WHY MAY YOU ASK?! WHY?! 3RD FRIGGIN TIME I FOUND HAIR IN MY FOOD. CAN YOU SAY ;LSJGOKNHWEOLNEW SGLNSELNG, CAUSE I CAN.

The 100 people who ARE going to sign this petition do not know about this yet, but they will.

K Woooooooooooooooooooosa.

Honour and Labour, is our fucking motto and rule.

Hello blogger world, it's been awhile. And yes, I've actually missed blurting my feelings, my thoughts to a computer screen, to the internet explorer world, and oh my god do i highly believe that nobody actually reads this. And that maybe because I don't want anyone to read my shite neither do I want to start telling them about this shit of a blog. The only actual person that I think reads this, is Danial. Who just checks for any mentioning of names from the X-file, and Dana. She finds anything I write interesting. There could be a piece of tissue paper I doodled on and she'd be the first person in line to read what I wrote. Love that gay thing.

School has been sucha drag lately. And to make matters worst, exams are just next week. Eeeek. Just when you think this escapade is enough, the cultural group has decided to be up and running. After break today in school, I spent the whole time outside of class. Not like everybod else wasn't. But instead of being in the canteen being the loudest, most exasperating students we are, I was in the office with Ms Bheng. Discussing this, that, aaaaaaaand that. But I'm not complaining. I like the busyness. I really do. But the week before our mid-years? Aigosmigo, you gotta be kidding me. St. George. St. George, St. George, St. George. I used to love that school, with all my heart. I used to be the number one fan of school. But it's changed sooo much. What with the surroundings, the plants, the staffroom and the way they give out the knowledge. It's just nt fun anymore. I know, school isn't supposed to be about 'fun', but when did the school start hiring teachers as if they were just picked out from the pasar? Seriously. Any student from ANY class could teach better than some of the staff members. I know right, who am i to say? But hey, my blog, my thoughts, MY RULES :) na-na-na-na.

It's not like having bad teachers is already bad enough, our canteen! Susmaryosep. Can you say unhygenic? Cause I surely fucking can. Did the Ministry Of Health forgot to mention hairnets? Gloves? Cause it sure looks like they did. Fine, if you're not gonna wear hairnets, please make sure that none of your HAIR gets to the FOOD that the CHILDREN!!!! buy to avoid HUNGER!!!!!! AND, if you're not gonna wear gloves, please LAH. AT LEAST, keep your NAILS.. SHOOOOOORT!! or maybe even CLEAN? Ever considered that? Youse nasty. Nasty hair for nasty lady. Ugly nails for ugly lady. You know, I BET you, I'm the only student in the school who has a complaint almost everyweek. Ok, I'm making the school sound real bad, but look okay. It's not like it's that good anyway.

Anyway, I'm gonna watch desperate housewives, with a hug and kiss.. I'm out like this :) - I miss my Yaya.

OH! IF YOU CAN SING, DANCE, ACT, OR PLAY ANY INSTRUMENT.. PLEASE CONTACT ME :)TENGKS

Now you're the song I love to sing.

The trouble with songs is that you always attach them to a situation, a moment. Such that no matter how you forget you felt in that instant, that one single tune can bring you right back there.

You remember everything. The things you forget, the feelings you felt and forgot, the sensations, the sights, the breeze in your hair. You remember exactly how you felt in that instant. And the words web a weave around you that gets you tangled up in them and you forget the present and live in your memories.

And if not that, a song, each different song, brings you somewhere else. Some place you've never been. Each song finds a new you. Someone you don't know, scenarios your eyes have never seen but which lingers in your heart. And sometimes someone you remember but can't seem to grasp.

But with that one song you are everywhere but here. And the beauty is that because of that, we can go anywhere we want. And that is in our power if nothing else is.

Catch-29.

They say the unexamined life isn't worth living, but what if the examining became your life? Is that living, or just procrastinating? And. What if all those helpful lunches and late night phone calls to friends have made us all girl talk, but no girl action.

Is it time to stop questioning?

Haha.

He wasn't supposed to go.

Fuck Friday.

I didn't get to sing today. I didn't get enough sleep yesterday. Danial's in tuition. The only thing that can make me happy now sex and the city.

Pick a little, pick a little.

Funny. If I'm the kid here, why are you the one that still exasperates me? Please lah, putih ko karang leh ku.

"Sudah simpan cream lai"?

For the past week, every single day of the week.. I have seen ze loml. And boy, am i loving it. Loml makes me happy. Like really happy. PINK INK: never play speed with loml. My Mr X seems to calm me down everytime something wires me up, be it by making me laugh at the most stupid things, or just with mr wiggles, or by playing a horror film on and both of us start acting like two 5 year olds who're very close to pissing their pants.

I love being around him, instead of the girl who tries-to-look-perfect-but-fails-with flying colors that i usually bring out, the reaaaaaaaally retarded fat girl who doesn't care where she picks her nose comes out. I love that girl, it's so fun being her. When Papa Croatian's out or busy, her grabs the lights and i grab the lighter. I love Mr X. And I'm Ms. Y. That's why we're SO meant to be. He-he-he. (Bear with me)

Anyway. Enough with ze Xs and Ys. We had an anti-drug talk today. Ya Allah Ya Tuhanku, please let me have my 2 boys and 1 girl before I get to taste that nasty cane.

Amocha.

Hello Stranger.

So it's been awhile.

I have just recently finished the book Danial got me. (Love him) And it's called.. "The other Lover". Danial and I were wondering why they called the book that, and I found out! IT'S CAUSE LAURA SLEEPS WITH WILLIAM! Ew-ew-ew-ew-ew. Utmost apologies, but Loz honey. EW.

It’s my birthday in 3 days. And believe it or not, I’ve always loathed my birthdays. But of course not the present bit. But the rest of the day? Eh, not my cup of tea, but my little bundle of joy has promised that this birthday, I’ll like. I’m going to hold my breath on that.

I’ve been fighting with her a lot nowadays. EVERYFUCKINGDAY, actually. I don’t know whether it’s due to our lit.. I think I just shat my pants.

Sthucky sthuck.

So what’s your pacifier? Everyone’s got one. When you’re having the shittiest Monday, you just can’t wait to get your hands on your Marlboro Lights. When you’re having a gloomy Sunday, you just can’t wait to get home to your season of House. When you’re Mom’s being a bitch, you can’t wait to get your hands laid on your chocolates. I guess my pacifier is my Dr Love. Ha-ha. But when the Dr Love is the cause of the exasperation, chocolates are good. A season of House is good. Maybe also the Marlboro lights too.

What's yours?

Not again.

Of course I’m going to miss you. Everyday.

Asian please.

WHEN I SAY MAKE SOME. YOU SAY NOISE.

holler at your girl please :)

./

It’s that sentiment you get after one day of not seeing that one particular person. It’s that fanatical, exasperating yet nice feeling. Then when that person, comes to see you, even just for 5 minutes… All is right with the world. Everything and everyone is just in their supposed-to-be site. But as soon as that 5 minutes is concluded, the miss comes back. It comes running back. You just stopped by to see me, you just left 5 minutes ago, and I..

..I miss you.

sunday morning.

Dear Moma Jane,

She’s this girl who’s confused, this girl who was once bruised. She became conscious to the fact that she’s actually desolated to everything around her, except maybe one person. She always considered herself necessary. But no, she isn’t. She thought she was the midpoint of everything. She saw herself as well-liked, but turns out that only she saw that. She became aware of other people around her, who had lives that didn’t comprise her. She felt like the most heartrending adolescent. No acquaintances in school, none whatsoever. Well, none genuine friends. Outside school, she saw familiar faces, heaps of them, but none, that was familiar with the actual-her. Oblivious to the world, to the verity that all and sundry have such abhorrence for her.

Please help her.

bobble.

So, this is for you. I really don’t know how ‘we’ happened, but at first it was nice. It was bearable, but after a year? Honey you have got to be kidding me. Sure, I play along with your little games. Your bothersome little games, but I assure you that things will change sooner or later. The first few months, I managed. But then you’re substandard little self couldn’t handle being kept inside the closet for a little while longer, eh? I don’t know you know when you criticize your friends. I forget sometimes whether you’re talking about yourself, or your “friends”. And oh-my-god, don’t get me started with your little monpetishu. The way you are when you’re with him? Your world gyrates around him. And yes, if you’re wondering it is annoying. Don’t get me wrong, I’m fond of my monpetishu, but at least I do not illustrate it to the world. To be quite frank, I do have a little beta-noir inside of me for you. And you’d be quite daft if you didn’t notice it. And fine, I’ll divulge that you’re fun to be around with at times, AT TIMES. EVERYTIME, I want to drift away from you, you just stick around. Nyakitynyakitynyakityyak.

mute.

got milk?

No.

PROCRASTINATION IS THE THIEF OF TIME.

Mr. David was a teacher all his life. He often talked about taking a trip around the world on his retirement. So when he retired from the government school everyone expected him to do just as he had said, but he procrastinated. He said he would go the next year.

So instead of doing what he wanted, he got a teaching job in a private school. He said he needed to save more money. His friends knew he was getting a far bit of pension and he could easily go on his trip with his wife. After all, his children were all grown up and working.

Anyhow, for reasons best known to himself, he postponed the trip year after year, although he kept telling his friends, “next year, my world trip.”

The years rolled by quickly. One day Mr. David visited a doctor about a persistent cough that he had developed. The doctor did some tests and found out that Mr. David has lung cancer. What a shock it was for the poor man when the doctor told him that he had probably less than a year to live.

By then he was too sick to travel and all hopes of a world trip vanished in an instant. Eight months later he passed away after spending a fortune trying to find a cure for the cancer.

The lesson to be learned here is not to procrastinate when one wants to do something. It is better to do it while there is time. The more one procrastinates, the less the opportunity to do it. Eventually the opportunity will disappear completely.


“Procrastination is the thief of time.”