So I’m going back to school tomorrow. Final year, yo. Had a short-lived panic attack thinking about what’s after. Actually picked up a book- Bill Gate’s Speed of Thought. Yeah, was that nervous. Then I watched Dogma and I’m all happy and giddy again.

What did I have for lunch? A bag of Super Rings and 52gm of roasted kuaci (sunflower seeds). Someone’s not going to be happy about me wolfing down all his prized Super Rings. But really, Super Rings is the pawn. I don’t care if it contains genetically engineered corn. Like c’mon, I’m a chinese, hello?

CNY has completely fucked my body up. I’m officially wobbly. Damn, 18th seems so far away. Can’t wait to get back into some kickass workout. Jeng jeng jeng….

Woohooo….my keyboard is actually collecting dusts. I almost forgot my blogger password, had to attempt like 3 times. Anyway, here I am.

Chinese New Year was awesome, till I lost half of my life savings (+ angpows) to shrine-building-satan-worshipping gamblers. Traumatised for a while, but still it’s all good. In the shadows of bankruptcy, I found compassion in the unlikeliest person. Nicklaus, my 13 year old obnoxious kid brother chipped in RM30 to ease my burden. So touching.

It’s Valentine’s Day. Have always felt indifferent to the day. No, actually I don’t give a fucking fuck. The closest I’ve ever gotten to being v’d (akin to punk’d) was receiving 5 pages long of messages from an Ah Lian lesbian at 15. Due to her inability to express herself in English, all she had to say was “I LUV U” repetitively in the most hideous handwriting. Still, it didn’t top the fake Versace handbag I got from some perv. And he had the nerve to ask me why I didn’t use it. Please, Valentine’s Day should be banned to prevent idiots from traumatising normal people like me.

HELP UNIVERSITY COLLEGE STINKS TO HIGH HEAVEN. DO NOT ENROL IN THIS COLLEGE. HECK, DON’T EVEN ENROL IN ANY PRIVATE INSTITUTE IN MALAYSIA. Get on with STPM and consult your nearest shaman. Convert to Islam to be safe.

Happy Valentine’s Day and I love you.

Haven’t done much lately except for shopping, shopping and shopping. That kind of left me with nothing to talk about except my acquired goodies. I had of loads fun photoshopping my parquet floor….now they look better than some unbelievably tacky wedding photo backdrops (at least I think so).

Here’s a rundown of what I’ve bought for Chinese New Year.

Traditional top & peach pedal pusher.

Tiger top & ripped skirt.

Maroon keyhole top & old jeans.

Rip-off vintage-ish Mickey top (check out the the real McCoy) & sequinned denim skirt.

Embroidered top and tie-dyed skirt.

By the way, have you noticed? There’s a subliminal message somewhere. Look intently…concentrate. Found it yet? No? Answer’s at the end of this post.

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Cornflake nibbles have gone horribly wrong. It’s sickeningly sweet. My bad. I was the one who asked Mom to pour the whole freakin’ bucket of honey into the mixture (the last time she made them was 20+ years ago so she has forgotten ratio ). Tried to amend with flour but to no avail.

And the worst thing is, we have 5 jars of them…

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The subliminal message is…

My poonani smells like flower.

My diet plan seemed to be approaching a dead-end, until yesterday…when I found myself down with a mild case of food poisoning. Feel like puking at the sight of food and too lethargic to grab any.The awesomeness! Hehehehe.

Bought a rip-off vintage Mickey top at a steal. Mom bought a lime green handbag (now I’ve got excuse to get a new pair of heels, in lime green of course). The happiness.

My hair’s bugging me. Too long already…putting on bra is becoming a nuisance. Hair tasting my food isn’t even funny anymore. Going to give it a trim - Mom’s doing it. She ain’t using a nail clipper.

Tomorrow’s baking day. Planning to make cornflake nibbles. Thank goodness I’m sick otherwise I’d definitely nick the sweets. I mean…who could resist the gooey concoction of honey and cornflakes (unless you’re sick)? Then again, who knows…

My college is getting on my nerve. The website’s forever down. I can’t find out the actual date of semester’s commencement. They haven’t mailed my results yet and I’m dying to know my accountings grade (I have a 50/50 chance of fucking it up, hence the anxiety).

Recently, I found myself being asked questions along the line of “What do you want to do after college?”. Honestly speaking, I really don’t know. I can’t see myself at a desk job. Neither could I see myself running around like chickens (no pun intended) slaving for somebody else. At times, I regret not putting my science background to good use when I had the opportunity to. Yeah, I am full of myself and I do think I have bigger potential than doing marketing gig for 5 years and then graduate to a quasi “manager” for the rest of my life. Gawd, the mere thought scares me.

Unfortunately, when laziness creeps upon me, I aspire to become a cabin crew, given I manage to lose the pesky 5 kilos - which I’m rather suspicious of the success rate. I harbour so many secret ambitions, that I can’t mention lest I turn scarlet and die of embarrassment.

If not for my hedonistic tendency, sigh…