Saturday 28 November 2009

whatcha say

"One of the reasons I like you so much is because you don't care what other people think."

--

I don't want you to be mad at her.

I wish you were back to sort this all out.

Sometimes, I wish you knew.

Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou.

I need to know. And it has to be me. Because you won't.

--

Goodnight, world.

m

Thursday 26 November 2009

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DIXON!!!

Sorry that you had a stupid Stats paper on your special, old man day.

Bet you killed it, though.

Hope it was as awesome-awesome as I predicted it would be. You certainly deserve it. :)


friend. :)

--

Happy Birthday, dude.

Wishing you plenty more to come.

--

m

critters won't leave me alone

Husna Qureshi: 21:46:28
haha i said liliy!
Amanda Shiew: 21:46:38
AHAHAHAHA
Husna Qureshi: 21:46:38
how silly!
Amanda Shiew: 21:46:41
I DIDN'T SEE THAT
Husna Qureshi: 21:46:49
LOL
Amanda Shiew: 21:46:50
STOP RHYMING, I'LL HIT YOU
Husna Qureshi: 21:47:09
sorryyyyyyy
Husna Qureshi: 21:47:16
not really
Amanda Shiew: 21:47:33
turd
Husna Qureshi: 21:47:46
hehe
Husna Qureshi: 21:48:36
my head is bleeding
Amanda Shiew: 21:48:47
WHAT?
Amanda Shiew: 21:48:52
WHY?
Husna Qureshi: 21:49:24
i pinched a pimple on my hairline
Husna Qureshi: 21:49:31
and its bleeding
Husna Qureshi: 21:49:35
like a lot
Husna Qureshi: 21:49:49
ok its stopped
Amanda Shiew: 21:50:24
oh
Amanda Shiew: 21:50:27
pimple
Amanda Shiew: 21:50:31
false alarm
Amanda Shiew: 21:50:41
i thought someone had taken a hatchet to your skull
Husna Qureshi: 21:50:43
hope u enjoyed the play by play
Amanda Shiew: 21:50:49
i did

--

My phone, Ninja, is out of commission.

I found out that I've been pulling the charger out of the port the wrong way. The repeated action has resulted in the charging of my phone to become almost impossible.
I'm sad about this. I really, really like that phone. I want to have it fixed.

NOW.

*sigh*

Cheryl and I had an epic battle with a gecko the other day.

She was driving me home, and glanced in my general direction to be polite while I talked. That was when she noticed a gecko on the passenger side mirror. Her eyes widened considerably and she interrupted me with

"THERE IS A LIZARD ON THE MIRROR!"

I dislike lizards. I dislike them more than I dislike gross, pee cockroaches. So naturally, I freaked out as well.

No screaming or anything, because it was outside, but the mere sight of it made my skin crawl. It was coloured like one of those brown and black snakes. *shudder* dudeitwassogross.

Cheryl drove as calmly as she could while we tried to carry on our normal conversation about the Amish. I kept an eye on the little monster. It managed to wedge itself between the mirror and the mirror holder so the wind wouldn't blow it away.
Made me angrier at it.

The rest of the conversation was punctuated by this exchange:

*worriedly* "Is it still there?!?"

*tautly* "MHMM!"

When we finally pulled up in front of my house, we tried all sorts of methods to get it off without getting out of the car. Cheryl moved the mirrors, trying to scare it out of hiding. At one point, it climbed out from it's hiding spot and stuck itself to the back of the mirror. I didn't know if it was gone, so I started winding down the window to see if I could catch a glimpse.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

"I'm trying to see if it's still there."

*realisation*

"LIZARDS CAN JUMP, RIGHT?!?!"

"YES! CLOSE THE WINDOW!"

I have never seen an automatic window move so slowly. Thankfully, nothing happened.

Eventually, I had the idea to shake the door. I used a. lot. of. effort. I could've made five milkshakes with that amount of energy.

Then quiet.

"Think it's gone?" I asked.

"I dunno. I'll go check."

"You don't have to, I can."

"NO! I will go! I don't want it in my car!"

Cheryl got out, and checked. She gave me a thumbs up. The thing had fallen onto the road. We then backed up a bit to avoid further contact with it and I got out the car, thanked her and rang the doorbell.

I think the whole ordeal left the both of us drained.

Stupid lizard.

Unnecessary stress.

--

I miss my squishy friend. :(

Monday 23 November 2009

the noodle ankle

"I just don't like it when they whine about it and expect everyone around to panic with them."

"Yeah, it bothers me too."

"I mean like you, right, sometimes you leave your work last minute too. But you don't whine, complain or panic, because you've already gauged what you are going to do."

"Right."

"And that's fine."

--

Good morning/afternoon/evening, dear readers.

It is Monday.

bleh.

I FINISHED MY COURSEWORK!

YEAH!!

I'm here, today, to talk about an incident that happened after lunch. Cheryl, Fiface, Sna and I went to McD's to celebrate our two hour break. This happened on the way back to KPD, via shuttle bus.

I was carrying both Fifa's and my full drinks (because who can resist a free refill) and was in the process of stepping over a drain. I was also carrying my sling bag with my laptop in it. I must have misplaced my footing or something, because the next thing I know, I was not in control of the direction I was going anymore.

With both hands full and one shoulder being weighed down by an expensive laptop, I attempted to save myself by my leg alone. But my ankle was well on it's way to being broken beyond recognition.

BUT

What happened instead of a disgustingly loud 'CRACK' sound, I felt my ankle turn into a noodle. Thinking quickly, I used my newly discovered noodle ankle and shifted my weight to the other leg. This gave me enough balance to use the thigh of the noodle ankle leg to push myself back up.

I did not break my laptop.

I did not spill a drop of Coke.

I did not break my ankle.

I did not touch the floor.

I am a ninja.

--

Hope you're all well.

:)

Sunday 22 November 2009

hi there. can you stop making completely ridiculous and inappropriate advances on my friend? yeah, thanks.

"So what are YOU gonna wear?"

"I'll go nude. I'll go nude, so they can all see my cellulite."

". . ."

*facepalm*

--

Hello. I am taking a coursework break because my brain is slowly being baked like the pizza I burned a couple weeks ago.
That was a gastronomy fail. Fail fail.

Yeah.

I had a good day. Very chill. Got work done. Was nice. :)

--

[2:42:09 PM] Amanda Shiew: my phone's t9 spells 'protego'
[2:42:15 PM] Amanda Shiew: i think it is a wizard
[2:42:28 PM] cheryl d'souza: IT MUST BE
[2:42:32 PM] cheryl d'souza: it's a shape shifter
[2:42:34 PM] cheryl d'souza: a biggart
[2:42:36 PM] cheryl d'souza: BOGGARY
[2:42:39 PM] cheryl d'souza: BOGGART!
[2:46:35 PM] Amanda Shiew: THERE YOU GO

haha. so. much. fun.

--

Today was a good hug day.

I am jacked up on coffee.

FARETHEEWELL!

--

QUICK EDIT:

I've added a bunch of links to blogs I read and sites I troll under the Cbox. Mostly because I am lazy and want a quick and easy way to get to them. You guys could use the list too, if you like. :)
Also, if you have a blog and I have neglected to include it, please berate me and send me the link ASAP.

Thanks.

Saturday 21 November 2009

christmas time is here


This year, the tree went up earlier than it would normally. Usually, we gather as a family to put the tree up during the first week of December. This year, we're collectively too busy to put it up then, so now was the only time we had.

There wasn't much to put up, but it was fun.

Alex played football this morning and was completely knocked out, so he missed the entire occasion. It wasn't the same without him. There were no arguments about the gaudy string of beads or flashy, multicoloured lights he likes so much.
It's like an annual battle. How much of the tree's dignity we can save from him.

Because his taste is...well...different.

Heh.

So with Christmas music blasting from the oversized television in the den, we all got to work and emptied the three boxes stuffed with Christmas decorations. (save the gaudy beads and ugly ribbons.)

Adam was well behaved, for a change, and actually contributed. As usual, he got to put the star on top of the tree.


I've decided that he's cute from far away.

It was fun putting up all the stuff. Because we recycle most of our decorations, stuff from forever ago appears at around Christmas time. I have some decorations from the days in the Philippines. Which is awesome. Making me all nostalgic and stuff.

*sigh*

I love Christmas.


--

And on a side note, I found something awesome:


a black santa. :)

--

It's been a good day.

:)

Friday 20 November 2009

"You have to try one of those."

"Mmm.."

"No, you have to try one."

"No."

"You have to try a Life-Saver. You have to!"

". . ."

"You're my life saver."

--

Here's the deal.

Tonight's post isn't going to be like the normal ones I usually write. No baby dinosaurs, no gross pee cockroaches. I doubt it's gonna be very funny, but I want to write it anyway. If you're not up for that, then you can just skip this one and wait for the next. I won't take it personally.
Promise. :)

Okay. Disclaimer out of the way, onto the post.

Today was the day my P license came through. (Yes, I did pass my driving test. A post about that is soon to come. Be patient.) Dad suggested I drive to dinner, since it wasn't far away.
I accepted the offer despite mum's clear reluctance to get into the car with me behind the wheel.

I have driven with mum in the car before, and each and every time, she screams and hides her face. Dad also tends to let out involuntary noises of what I can only describe as fear.

So off we went. Me, mum, dad, Adam and Grandma. Grandma actually had other dinner plans, but wanted to see me drive. It had rained and darkness was falling, so visibility wasn't the best.

I'd describe the short journey, but I wouldn't want to bore you guys to death. It wouldn't be fair, would it? No. Okay. Point made. Moving on.

I'm sure all parents are nervous when their kids are behind the wheel of a heavy machine, so I expected them to be on the edge of their seats, giving me instructions. It's completely understandable, right? Right.

What I found difficult was not crashing the car while they were both yelling different instructions at the same time, then berating me for trying to follow them. I'm not exaggerating. This is what happened.
I have to give dad credit for at least trying to be calm. He started falling apart towards the end, though.

Arrived at destination. Parked. Sat down at the table.

No one said anything about the ride over, which was fine with me. I actually didn't want to hear about it.

A few minutes passed.

Then my grandma leaned over,

"I'm proud of you. I believe you can do it."

I love her.

I smiled and thanked her. She was the only person in the car that didn't give me crap about anything. Yes. Even Adam had his say.

The conversation ended there, but I didn't stop thinking about what she said.

They let me drive home. By this time, it was really dark. Night dark. Yeah. More stress. When I agreed to drive, I knew I was setting myself up for that. But it still wasn't fun.
Normally, the frantic yelling doesn't get to me. But tonight, it did. I don't know why. It's not like it was the first time it happened.

I got everyone home safe, but it didn't feel like much of an accomplishment.

I don't think they realise, but my parents completely destroy my confidence when they talk to me like that. I know they're trying to help, but it's hard to see anything as helpful when it's presented like that.

My aunt came to pick Grandma up for dinner. She was driving the Myvi, and invited me to join them so that I could drive a smaller car, but I politely declined. I couldn't. Not tonight.
I do, however, completely appreciate the gesture. Really.

It's funny to joke about how my mum thinks she'll throw up if she lets me drive her around, but only for a while.
Then it gets annoying.

And tonight, it made me sad.

Thursday 19 November 2009

who stole the Cookie from the cookie jar?

*sigh*

Hello.

I've had a poopy day. Not a day that involved particularly large amounts of faeces, but one that I didn't really enjoy having.
I haven't talked about him before, but a while back, I came to possess an iPod nano. He had a hardshell case and his name was Cookie. I kept him in decent condition.

Today, when I went off for lunch with Cheryl, Fiface and Snargle, we all left our ridonkulously heavy bags behind in our building. As we are SO strategically placed, our building is forever away from anything that resembles food. It takes a decent trek and a half to get lunch, so we usually just leave all our crap and go.

And that's what we did.

When we got back, though, something was different. My bag was gone. All our stuff that had been tucked neatly on chairs, was scattered on the table, and my bag was gone.

Of course it was.

So began the hunt. We looked everywhere on the floor we were on and the floor above. Nothing.
Then Cheryl thought to ask one of our A-Voice photographers if he had seen the bag.

Cheryl: Hey, by any chance, have you seen a Converse bag?

(Here's where I expected the 'no, sorry'.)

Sean: *pause* Uh..yeah. Is it black?

Cheryl: Yes.

Sean: Is it white?

Cheryl: Yeeess.

Sean: Um. Yeah. It's in the boy's bathroom, KPDA, level one.

*Cheryl and I exchanged the most outrageous looks*

Cheryl and I: ..okay. Thanks.

Sean: Sure..

--

We made our way over, Sathish in tow, to KPDA. By this time, I was almost 100% sure Cookie was gone. The fact that it was hidden in the BOYS bathroom, MILES from where it was taken, was enough to convince me it wasn't accidental.
And if it wasn't accidental, the theif wouldn't pass up an iPod. Not when it was that easy.

We got there. The floor was empty. My bag was on a table. Someone had obviously taken it out and put it there. I walked over and reached my hand in to the front pouch where Cookie was supposed to be and my heart sunk a little when my fingers brushed up against nothing. A small part of me wanted to believe it was still an accident.

I sighed as I made the announcement,

"Yeah. It's gone."

It was a slow trudge back to our building. We thanked Sathish for tagging along and went to find the others.

--

It was only about two hours later, in Econs, that I discovered that they'd also taken my calculator.

--

Sure, I'm kind of annoyed that all this happened. I mean, who wouldn't be, right? But it's done and I can't take anything back. I didn't think it was worth being upset about. Sure, Cookie will be missed. But it's nothing that isn't replaceable.

All my notes, my books, were left in the bag. My pencil case.

I told my parents when I got home. I didn't get into trouble. It's not that my parents are so filthy rich they don't care. They just don't see the point of getting upset about it. Yes, they're probably disappointed that it happened. But what can we do?

Nothing.

I did tell them that I didn't want them to replace it, because I should have to deal with the consequences of being careless. I'm saving up for a new calculator too. This means more breakfast, less lunch.
*sighhhh*

I am, however, glad that it was only my stuff that the idiot took. He chose the most expensive bag without realising that the others around had more expensive iPods in them.

I'm okay to deal with this, I think.

Bye, Cookie.

Hope you fall into good hands.

:)

Wednesday 18 November 2009

my grandma's a ninja

My grandma has been staying with us since Saturday.

My grandma is a brilliant cook.

My grandma cooked dinner tonight.

While I was down, helping mum with the snowflakes, the filter guys showed up to fix our demented filter. There were two of them, and after saying 'hi', I didn't think I'd talk to them.

So I was sitting at the dining table while they worked in the dry kitchen. Mum was ranting about something or rather and the nice filter guy was listening intently. Grandma was cooking in the wet kitchen.
Now, you must understand that the wet and dry kitchens are separated by nothing more than a sliding door. A sliding door which was open at this point in time.

As I was minding my OWN business, I suddenly felt this itch in my throat. Followed by an urge to cough. I started choking slightly. Of course, this random fit of spluttering needed some explanation, so I tried asking my mother if she felt it too. But of course, I failed. Then, the man working at the sink started coughing too.
I took this as a sign that I wasn't going to die and calmed down.

Then, EVERYONE started coughing. We all yelled at Grandma to make it stop.

She told us she was cooking. I know better. She was mixing her secret spices to make ninja spice balls to throw at unsuspecting victims. She was testing them out on us.

I'm onto you, Grandma.

--

Later that evening:

The filter guys were wrapping up, giving their details to mum so she could write the cheque when Grandma joined us at the table.
The filter man and her had a nice long discussion on where she was from and why she made the ninja dish that nearly choked us all to death.

Then, OF COURSE, the conversation switched to me.

Filter guy: So you cook stuff like [list of stuff that I didn't bother listening to].

Grandma: Yeah.

Filter guy: And everyone eats it?

Grandma: Oh, no. Just the adults. The kids don't know how to eat it.

Me: *ears perk up*

Grandma: Yeah, like this one here. *gestures towards me* She's very western. She doesn't eat stuff like that.

Filter guy: Oh?

Grandma: Yeah. All of them are like that.

Me: I just don't LIKE it. It's not that I can't eat it.

Grandma: *ignores me* This, lah, that, lah, no petai, lah.

Me: PETAI IS GROSS!

Grandma: It cleanses your system.

Me: No! It makes you smell like..like..

Grandma: Petai?

Me: Petai!

And it continued like that. And now, you must take into account the fact that both my Grandma and the Filter guy were speaking mostly in Hokkien and I (obviously) was not. So I sounded stark raving mad trying to defend myself in English while they talked.

I don't think I put on a convincing show. Filter man thinks I'm a spoilt brat.

OH well.

Guess it's because Grandma is sneaky like that.

Because she is a ninja.

End of story.

Tuesday 17 November 2009

i'm drawing a freaking vagina, man

is what happens when you're friends with a med student.

--

Hai.

I just ate a cheese sammich. I crave a cheeseburger, but because I am lazy to pick up the phone and dial McD's, I settled. It'll do.
For now.

Today, I skipped school. Why? Because Franklin won't leave me alone. He was quieter, today though. He didn't romp around in there like he owned the place, but he did see fit to clear some room.

I stayed home because I had serious backwards eating problems. It wasn't painful, though, which I am grateful for. It was just immensely inconvenient. I didn't leave the house. I couldn't leave the house.

It posed too much a threat to poor, unsuspecting toilets everywhere.

*shudder*

Uh, so yeah. I spent the time doing work. But I chose to do it in the comfortable squishyness (*grin*) that is my bed. Mostly because that is what is expected of you when you are home, sick. If I had it my way, I wouldn't have done work. I would have snuggled and slept. But alas, that never seems to be the case, does it?

Too bad. It rained. It was PERFECT sleep weather. But noooooo. Stupid college work. Hmph.

Aside from working and toileting, I made SNOWFLAKES.

Mum needed help making, like, a kabillion snowflakes. Sounds fun, right? 'cept mum doesn't know how to make snowflakes. She agreed to do it based on the assumption that I knew how. Once I looked it up online, I did know how.

Yei, internet!

So after a stationary store robbery with mum and grandma after dinner, the family sat down to make snowflakes. Me folding, mum cutting, dad showing off his manly-man-ness tearing three pieces of paper at once and Alex unfolding the snowflakes and failing to put them back as they were.
Yes. We are quite the team.

Snowflakes are to surprise Adam's class at school tomorrow when they get back from recess.

It's Christmas time!

:)

Sunday 15 November 2009

the return of the baby dinosaur

Baby dinosaurs sound cute, don't they?

Yeah. But when they invade your stomach and then try to CLAW their way out, 'cute' is the last word I'd use to describe them.

I had a relapse of the case of the Franklin.

He appeared on Friday evening and began fading this morning. The only difference between this attack and the last was that this one did NOT involve backwards eating. Just crazy pain in the upper abdominal, lower chest, back area.

I know. Terribly specific.

Doctor didn't know what was wrong, so I just got pain killers and Panadol to drop my fever.

Yei.

*sigh*

I wish Franklin didn't keep coming back. He's kind of an a-hole.

Thursday 12 November 2009

hi.


I'm not very good at handling stress.

Actually, I'm pretty horrifically terrible at it.

But I try.

And I do have help. :)

thanks.

Tuesday 10 November 2009

sunny days


because google is good at making me feel nostalgic.

Monday 9 November 2009

every time I hold you I begin to understand, that everything about you tells me you're my best friend

And you said:

"Most normal people put their work before their friends. You, well you, you're just the opposite. You can't help it. And it's the people like us that hurt the people like you."

--

What a day. I seem to be in somewhat of a psychotic mood.

Happy psychotic, though. Which is the better kind of psychotic, I have to say. I've been bouncing around and reacting violently to tiny things that don't matter. Laughing at my own mug shots as well as Iqa's. Pretending to strangle the ADP kids who won't stop swearing at the top of their lungs:

"Can you not say that? You sound like a f****** bimbo."
*unintelligible reply*
"NO! YOU SOUND LIKE A F****** BIMBO, WHICH YOU ARE NOT!"
*more unintelligible muttering*
"SHUT THE F*** UP! YOU SOUND SO F****** BIMBOTIC!"

Yeah, I think you get the point. Everything we hear from them sounds like this. Which is unfortunate, because I do like to think that there are some decent people in the mass of swearing loudspeakers. But the minute I hear another word about Mahatma Ghanda, I'm going to kick someone in the baby maker.

My craziness prompted Jit to tell me that I was the most 'un-zen' person he knew. I took it completely as a compliment. Hah. What does that say about my personality?

It's underneath all the crazy that I realise that there are important things that have to be done. Deadlines are drawing closer.

I caught sight of the ever elusive Hema tonight. It was like sighting a unicorn. I kid you not.

And now, back to work.

Hope you're all well.

:)

Friday 6 November 2009

honk


Why hello there.

I've wanted to blog since Friday evening (as this post is dated then), but so many things have come up that I totally lost the momentum. Just the momentum though, not the desire.
It's Sunday now.

In the midst of college apps, Lit coursework and crazy prep for Mocks, it's been a hectic few weeks. I've been sleeping earlier than I have been in a long while, yet I feel inexplicably tired. I get up and have to DRAG myself out of bed. Not like that's anything new...

I miss my friends.

The friends that I haven't seen since graduating, the friends that are too busy to hang out anymore, the friends that I left in other countries, the friends that left TO other countries, the friends that can't be bothered anymore and the friends that time has just taken away.

I suppose that's what we all have to deal with though.

Sometimes, I find that I'm reluctant to go to reunion parties. Despite this, I do go. And what happens? I leave with a lightness in my chest. It's a happy feeling.

Now with us all busy and moving on to new places and schools and friends, I doubt we're going to be able to gather the same way. I realise I miss it more than I thought I would.

--

A conversation I had with Cheryl a while back when we weren't drowning in math papers and law essays:

cheryl d'souza: 01:47:49
i blogged
cheryl d'souza: 01:47:52
but its brief
Amanda Shiew: 01:47:57
OKAY
cheryl d'souza: 02:00:05
mooo
Amanda Shiew: 02:00:24
woof
cheryl d'souza: 02:02:57
meowwwwwwwwww
Amanda Shiew: 02:03:46
hissssssss
cheryl d'souza: 02:05:17
beeeeeeehhhhhhhh
Amanda Shiew: 02:05:33
bleeeeaaaaatttttttttt
cheryl d'souza: 02:07:05
grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
Amanda Shiew: 02:07:15
grunt
cheryl d'souza: 02:09:11
oinkkk
Amanda Shiew: 02:09:38
ROAR
cheryl d'souza: 02:11:36
ooh ooh ahh ahh
Amanda Shiew: 02:12:00
cuh-caw!
cheryl d'souza: 02:12:19
sqwaaak!
Amanda Shiew: 02:13:33
hooooot
cheryl d'souza: 02:14:09
clck clck clck
Amanda Shiew: 02:14:40
whrrrrrrr whrrrrrrrrr
cheryl d'souza: 02:14:54
aaaaaaaoooooooooooooooooo
Amanda Shiew: 02:15:15
nieghhhh
cheryl d'souza: 02:15:26
heeehawww
Amanda Shiew: 02:16:20
cluck cluck cluck
cheryl d'souza: 02:18:18
grrrrowwwwllll
cheryl d'souza: 02:18:24
NO WAIT
cheryl d'souza: 02:18:28
cock a doodle dooo
Amanda Shiew: 02:18:48
quack
cheryl d'souza: 02:19:42
ribbit!
Amanda Shiew: 02:19:53
honkkkkk
cheryl d'souza: 02:22:47
honk?
Amanda Shiew: 02:23:14
it's a goose
Amanda Shiew: 02:23:17
I WIN!
cheryl d'souza: 02:25:16
=(
cheryl d'souza: 02:25:23
you do win
cheryl d'souza: 02:25:26
I TWEETED YOU@
Amanda Shiew: 02:25:34
WHOOP!
Because all our conversations go like this.

--

But I do have friends that have stuck around and are proably going to for a while. All this despite the fact that they are mad busy and in different countries and what not.

I couldn't ask for more from them.

I'm the luckiest twit in the world.

:)

Monday 2 November 2009

it's all normal till it's not

I totally forgot to tell you guys about what happened a few weeks ago.

I don't think I deserved this, and I was completely not prepared for it. Eventful things seem to happen in the shower. (don't try to read into that statement too much)

There I was, showering like a normal person, minding my own business. I knelt to nab the shampoo from the floor and felt my foot touch the hair atop the drain cover. I've got a lot of hair, so nothing out of the ordinary, right? Right.

It was when I stood up again that I realised that something was wrong.

The hair was still on my leg, and was beginning to move UPWARD.

UPWARD!

THAT IS NOT NORMAL AT ALL!

See, by this time, my brain had figured out what was going on, but didn't let me freak out. Instead, I calmly looked down at my leg to be greeted by a friendly little critter.

And by friendly little critter, I mean:
HORRIFICALLY DISGUSTING FOUL SMELLING PEE COCKROACH.

Why it latched onto my leg, I have no idea. But I quickly shook it off and grabbed the shower head in preparation to kill it. (Sorry, I have no sympathy toward pee cockroaches. They have no redeeming qualities.) But the little turd crawled out under the shower door.
I glared at it while my heart beat slowed to normal and continued with my shower, preparing to kill the thing when I was done.

At this point in time, I had been extremely calm. No sudden movements. No screaming. I was calm externally, anyway.

I finished up with the shower and while I dried off, I looked around the bathroom floor for the stupid pee cockroach. I found him by the toilet. Just standing there. Twit.

I left the bathroom to get dressed and grabbed a tube of shuttlecocks to attack it with. I figured I had had enough bodily contact with it.

As I approached, I leaned in and crushed it with the end of the tube. No hesitation. If you hesitate, it will scuttle. If it scuttles, you'll freak out again because you don't want it to touch your feet. Was there a satisfying crunch sound? Yes. Am I sorry?

Not. in. the. slightest.

As I smushed the pee cockroach, I could feel the adrenaline rush that his initial sighting had caused. I felt all the scream and sudden movements pouring out into that unnecessarily forceful and violent killing.

Stupid pee cockroach.

He deserved it.

When I was satisfied with my work, I moved the tube, wiped up the corpse on the floor, wiped down the tube and set it back in its place. Calm as ever. No one who would have seen me then could have guessed I had just felt my heart beating outside my chest.

I don't think I'm actually afraid of cockroaches. I think I am just supremely grossed out by them.

So yeah, that's what happened.

D.R.I.P, pee cockroach. You stole a year of my life that night.

But I have to give you some credit. You've given me a great conversation starter.

Sunday 1 November 2009

first train home

Time and tide waits for no man.

Hello blog.
Something happened to me today.

Before dinner, I decided I'd wash off the crazy heat of today and had a shower. Nothing really out of the ordinary. I finished up, dried off and got dressed. Sounds normal, right?
Right.

But as I was towelling my hair, I glanced up to look at my mirror. (Yes, at it, not in it.)
And I saw what Rachel Q had written on it while she was at my place for my minuscule birthday celebration.

It said:
'HAPPY 16th BIRTHDAY MANDA!! Enjoy it!'

She wrote it on the day itself, meaning that we are currently about a year and a half away from the time the marker touched the surface of the mirror.

It dawned upon me that in six months, I'm gonna turn eighteen.

I paused to think about it, and realised that the thought scared me more than I thought it would. Getting older is not the problem. Being eighteen, an adult, is not the problem.
It's the fact, that I remember being eight years old, looking up to the twelve year olds at church and thinking about how cool they were. Watching the twenty year olds and writing them off as ancient.

I'm currently in my late teens and I don't remember a significant TURNING point in which that happened. It was a gradual progression that I was completely unconscious of.

Time just moves.

It goes and goes and never stops.

Does that scare me?

Honestly, it does.

It's kind of terrifying. Things happen, and we just have to deal with them and live with the consequences. Everything that happens, everyone we meet and everything we do affects who we are and who we become.

It's a daunting thought, no?

I wanna think that my life has made a difference to someone. I wanna think that I affected someone in a positive way and that they'll always remember me for it.

Time will always move forward.

We can't do anything about it. Yes, I do say that with a slight tone of helplessness.

But it is a fact, and we have to come to grips with that.

I have to come to grips with that.