In my pocket.

I found it. Heh. I found my pick.

After arriving at Mabel's (dad's cousin. Should I add the "auntie" out of respect?) house this morning, I attempted to look cool by jamming my hands in my pockets, where my right hand alerted me to the fact that something else was present in its pocket other than my phone. And guess what, it was right(being the right hand and all, you know, one of my stupid puns). I then pulled my pick out and said to my mum, "I found it!"
She looked very clueless.

So dad's cousin got married to a Muslim, by the name of...uh...I don't know, but his nickname's Pele. Quite a nice guy, so I wish the pair of them lots of luck for the future. Or something like that. Don't wanna sound real corny here.

Speaking of corny-ness, have you ever seen those wedding photo albums or wedding invitations? There's always some mushy message written somewhere in their vicinity. And the grammar is awful most of the time, too. I don't see why this practice is carried out anyway. Keep the mawkish sayings to yourselves, please.

I reminded my mum and other relatives to remind me, if I eventually get married, to not do that. You know one thing I dread is taking wedding photos? I'm not a big fan of being photographed. I'd much rather be the one behind the camera than in front of it.