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Eck. Dying, dyiiiiing. Tired tired tirrrrrrrrred! These nights, I keep dreaming of big, muddy fields and people playing touch with a size 5 ball. I'm abandoning work to read a Book (really, a book!) *hides*. It doesn't get weirder than this.

Touch's zapping my energy even though all I do is make mistakes after mistakes.

M.I carnival was fun fun fun and I got to see everyone I wanted to see (except for Salleh, some assmoles, Nilam, and mister nerd. I was happy, and even though I pretended to be brave, Liyanah's screams made me even more terrified of the very scary haunted house. I swear, it was really spooky. There were ghosts walking around and HAHAHAHAH. The sight of one crawling on the floor triggered a fit of shrieks from the both of us (as Fatah and friend, plus Saddad acted as if the whole thing was a big joke. No fun!). When it was obvious we couldn't escape, Liyanah warned the creepy crawlie, "DON'T GRAB my leg!" It was damn funny, but I felt too much like a wussy to laugh. Thankfully, it/he/she left us alone. I wanted to walk out of the place with as much dignity as I could to make up for unacceptable behaviour so during what I thought was the last stretch before the exit, I whispered "I think they've run out of ghosts." 2.5 seconds later, I saw an outline of a white figure in the pitch-black darkness. I couldn't take it and fell backwards in horror and shock. I think I almost ripped Saddad's jeans off while clinging to em for protection. Of course, the guide had to take my hand and gently reminded me,"If you leave it alone, it won't do anything to you:)"
Liyanah had calmed down a little by then so I ended up walking out being the lone wuss. That poor girl's arm must've been under severe strain thanks to my clinging.

Okay see you I have to spook myself doing work now.

I am nothing without ankle support.

"There is a (Koranic) verse that says God swears by time. Anything you gain in life, you pay for with your time. Time is the most important thing that has been given to man."- Shirin Ebadi

How very timely.

Labels: Unendlicher als ewig

Something deep inside tells me that yesterday's shouldn't be the last match. We were 2nd runners-up, everyone did well, and Charmaine Tan's DA man. She got past a Saint to score the winning try during sudden death (3 on 3). And I couldn't stop reminding jueling about red bull.

Mum's Day, has never meant so much. I'm over those cards with the recycled line "I love you Mum, take care" I used to make in attempt to match her sacrifices. Young kids, are like that. It hit me just a couple of minutes ago how, given the same chances she had, how I'd never ever be the woman she is today. Not even close. I haven't told her those three words in the longest time. Neither have I shown them in the way I behave. Thank God they don't have Grandma's Day cos then I'd be twice ridden with guilt.

School is tomorrow. The circle of life. Pukes.

Vesak Day makes me realise how distant I am from God. I've never "spoken" to Him, and I simply cannot identify with people who've heard Him responding. I gotta admit though, He's given me the best things in life.

A neighbour's cat was happily stalking Saddad and rubbing her (I'm damn sure, he attracts raging hormones) body against his jeans to the boy's fascination ("SO cute!") until yours truly appeared and burst her bubble. I took him away to safety, only to find, en route home, the same very envious (gender confirmed) creature awaiting me. She stayed rooted to the chair, not moving a bone, pretending not to care about my presence, but her eyes betrayed. They were fiercely trained on me. I gave her an apologetic smile before dashing up.

Yes I know the guy's got great looks. In fact, Fran (whom I haven't met in 9704231853185 years) just told me that. I get that a lot about him. But he's way more beautiful inside.

He's not one of those things I mentioned earlier. I hope tomorrow's gonna be, though. Playing well is just not an option. Go us.

I woke up just to listen to The Moffatts. Shut up.
Since I never do get any work done (sense the bitterness), I should change tack and aim for better things, like.

-Learn how to ride a horse so I can save on transport and of course, be early for school. No more morning runs, imagine!
-Fly to India to master yoga there. Then maybe I'll be a more peaceful person and Jason M will consider marrying me.
-Photo-crash as much as possible. I could just end up on the cover of my favourite Disney's Princess Magazine.

The best advice I've seen on a cereal box, ever.
Work hard. Eat right. Be a tiger.

Maybe I'll have one myself. On it, maybe a better advice.
Like "Eat me!"

No matter how much I complain to anyone within earshot (Reena!) every tuesday and thursday, I drag my feet for training. I don't know why, I just do. For real, I can't wait till this month is over (a little). And then everything's gonna whirl past when june's over. Then I don't have to worry about ticking bombs like Zing's A-level countdown counter, making stupid mistakes like returning school library books to tampines library, latecoming, and of course, history. But I'll miss dragging people into deciding for me what to buy over at FG (usually orange wins over milkshake), the morning runs, the post-training routine of econs slash bubble tea, pretending I have a crush on S____, and of course, nicknaming people with names that are not even names.

All I wanna do is stuff myself with oreo double d (it's yummay) but I cannot afford to barf cream all over my shirt later. See, I don't know why I'm even going.

The gym hates me. I thought I was finally growing muscles but an ambitious visit made the body sore for a whole damn week. Pain is good not. But yesterday's interviewing was. Superb. Karma's gonna get back at us (okay me) I know, but their answers to the weird questions made them shine. A lil. Stepping down's gonna be relatively easy, I think.

I hate fats.

All I need is chocolate, and I'll be fine.

So, I was bemoaning the slip in my stamina and agonising over how much running I needed to do over the weekend when I chanced upon today's newspaper and flipped aimlessly. Sports section. Two of my friends got candid-snapped while hockey-ing in an a div match. I'm gonna call smurfy straight after this just to tell her that I don't miss her at all because I just saw her sexy legs unsuspectingly caught on camera, all one fifteenth of the photo. How cool is this. A year ago, the only way we could get her out to where the sun actually shines was to convince her that mister hockey number ** was out there making his hits. That same girl has since made hockey her second religion. And then I sit here wondering why there isn't A div for TR. hoo.

Miss Tango, I randomly heart you.

I wish I'd stop having all those emotions on the field. So much for being a PMS monster only to Saddad.

Never wanted to want someone. Look what you've done...

WOW

wow #1 My favourite fish (Saddad) made me a whole YUMMAY chocolatey meal for getting gold for pft (an impossible feat for me) and because he was being his sweet self, of course.(((((:
Trust me on the YUMMAY part.

wow #2 NO MORE JUMPING lar seyy.

wow #3 carrot's bloody 7000-word assignment. done. okay I cheated on this one but heck. It's done.

wow #4 Mum agreed to my financial demands.

wow #5 Saddad.

You make me insanely happy, Saddad!
:) Insane, but happy.