"Seven inches from the midday sun," -Santana

Imagine if blog posts had trailers. It'd be all, "Coming soon, to a website near you!"

Weird. Sometimes, I get really random thoughts. I remember asking Jia Hong the other day, "Is it possible to be so sarcastic, you die of your own sarcasm?"

People have too many nicknames for me. I'd never dream of calling myself anything other than my current name ('cause I actually like it, even though dozens of people have the same name). 

The latest one is probably "ba zhang Bruneian scholar" by Stella and Effie. Long story. 

Another is the one the Bruneians coined on Syaf's birthday, which was "Ya Wen the awesomely weird." They know I'm awesome. *cough* 

Speaking of which, I think I'm going to miss them (without even trying). We sent Fatinn, Wardah, Syafiqah and Emily to the airport just now. Man, I want to go back too. 

Soon, soon. Patience is a virtue (tsk. Sounds so Confucius-y).

At least, you know, school is over for now, and homework aside, I can actually relax for a few days. (Did I use too many commas there?)

We got our progress reports back today. Malay worst subject (because Physics wasn't counted. If it was, my Physics would be utter crap). I've always been terrible at Malay. It's either I'm not making an effort, or that I just really suck at it. Though for now, I'd settle for senile old teacher. 

Yos and Kevin were both complaining about their Malay grade. I'm not really sure whether we should do anything about it. Maybe we (here meaning I) really do suck that bad.

My CAP was a total one-off super lucky thing, okay? Probably no hope whatsoever of maintaining that.

I'm listening to 'Smooth' now, by Santana and another version by Escape The Fate (from the album Punk Goes Pop 2). Both versions are super cool.

Stella's kind of rushing me to publish this post, I've got no idea why. 

There you go. I hope you're satisfied with what a crap post I've managed to put together on such short notice. 

Actually, I don't really mind. I was going to post anyway.

Pacahh.

Highlight of my day: I drank tea. The traditional way (though I'm not quite sure we got it exactly right). 

I don't like tea. I've never liked it. Tea smells really good, but I can't stand the taste. Though I did drink three cups. Three, man. That's more than I've ever drank in an entire lifetime. And no, I'm not exaggerating. Honest.

Tea Chapter. Visit. To. Pretty cool. Witnessed weird video of puppet show. Made a retarded-looking lavender dumpling thing. Appreciated tea. Yeah.

Ms Li came back today. Apparently she was late because she overslept. Man, that just goes to show that Physics teachers are human like the rest of us. Epic.

Baoxin was asking me this afternoon what day it was today. "Thursday?" I said. 

"No," she replied. 

"Oh," I said, finally seeing the light (actually I don't know why people use this phrase. You need light to see, so if you didn't have light you wouldn't be able to see in the first place, so okay, I'm confused. Sue me), "It's the day where people go to the beach and throw things into the sea, right?"

And bingo, I was correct. 

Last day of Sem 1 tomorrow. 

I don't want to speak too soon, but I think I've managed to survive my first semester here. Wow. Really, wow. That was fast. 

So fast, it's actually scary. 

So far, I've learned how to iron my clothes, do my own laundry, rush projects (like our Geography report, it took Rania and I four hours to complete it and got a 59/65, aren't we just awesome?), survive long nights of studying, et cetera et cetera. 

Man, don't you just love Michael Bublé's voice?

Quote.

Hello world. Or internet. Or the World Wide Web. Or the blogosphere. Whichever. 

Got my eyes checked around an hour ago. Same results. You need glasses, you have a degree, blah blah. 

I know I need glasses. But I don't want to wear them. I don't have to wear them. 

I'm in terrible denial, I know. 

So, emotional management. People who do not know how to manage their emotions should learn the consequences themselves. That way, they remember more and try harder. You don't teach anyone these things. Hardly anyone is going to admit they have anger management issues and that they care about it. 

Okay, I don't think I made any sense just now (or was even thinking clearly, as a matter of fact).

I think I imitate Confucius so much, I've adopted his manner of... um, Confucianism.

Confucianism is cool, man.

The 'social graces and etiquette workshop' thing was pretty fun. Though if we need to go to so much trouble to take care of our legs and whatever-s from showing, then why not just not wear short, tight skirts and low-cut tops? 

And also, now I know that I'm not the only one who struggles to wear a jacket.

Police talk on cybercrime? 

I only wish people would STOP SENDING ME SPAM MAIL trying to sell me viagra.

Over and out, homies.

Coniglio.

Can you believe The Sims 3 leaked? That's not cool, man.

I hope it's an incomplete not-so-awesome version, so people would still have to spend load of money on buying the game itself to the benefit of EA.

But then again...

I don't want to go to school tomorrow. Emotional management? What on earth is it for? 

Let emos be emo. 

I feel like, I'm not listening anymore. I need to listen more. To songs, I mean. I do "listen" to them. All the time. But I'm just so caught up in things, I don't hear every note anymore. I don't listen to every word anymore. It's not the same. It's been rendered to plain noise. I don't like that.

This kinda reminds me of a 'Calvin and Hobbes' strip, where Calvin totally puts down the "stop and smell the roses" line of advice. "Stop and smell the roses" isn't literal, and probably extremely troublesome for people who're allergic to pollen, but the thing is, it seriously makes sense. 

I want to live to appreciate every moment, but that's kinda impossible. 

On a less philosophical/Confucius-sounding tone, Fatinn, Emily and I were in the Music Room playing around with this online translator thing translating things into Italian.

Turns out typing in "awesome" gives you "impressionante" (which, in turn, according to Wiktionary, means "striking, impressive, grand, stunning, shocking").

Cool.

Rabbit is "coniglio".

Going to bed with a final statement: A lot of people say I look like my mum, and a lot of people say my brother looks like my dad. And then, there are quite a few who say my brother looks like me. How on earth is this logical? My dad looks nothing like my mum. Or vice versa. 

Now that's a disturbing thought.

Ivan the Awesome.

Okay, a nine-ish year old friend of mine (mum's colleague's daughter) has a Facebook account. And so do all the other people who have sent me Facebook invites. 

Look, I am not getting an account. Get that? Capisce? Comprende? Good.

Script-checking yesterday. Some results were good, some just okay and some were honestly really bad. 

Also, I totally screwed up all the papers with chickens in them. Malay and Physics. Physics. Bleh. Why on earth did the lady cook beef spaghetti with a "whole chicken"? Makes no sense. Unless chicken is the new beef, I dunno.

After wondering what "exp frog" stood for (turned out to be expression fragment or whatever don't know don't really care hated my English marks and not "experienced frog"), I headed back to the hostel to go out again.

Cluster outing. Whee.

We watched "Night at the Museum 2". Finished off most of our food even before the movie began. 

The movie? It was funny. Really funny. Loved the monkeys and Ivan the Awesome.

Awesome.

I want to go to the Music Room later. Must jam. 

100% awesome, 0% impurities.

Monaco.

Ever since my lack of Astro, my Formula 1 race excitement has been reduced from standing in front of television screens and yelling my head off to staring at the Live Race Centre position chart and commentary, trying to keep in various profanities/encouragement.

The Monaco race will be the same (or not, I might be occupied then), but not for Turkey and Silverstone. Then, I'll have my Astro and I'll be able to actually watch races again. 

I actually find myself missing Steve Slater's voice. And his strange moustache.

So now I'm waiting for my turn to shower, I shall dutifully talk (or type, rather) about my day.

I went with Syafiqah the birthday girl, Wardah, Fatinn and Feyra to Vivo to buy stuff. Ate, met Emily and Nicholas. Visited Mothercare and Toys R Us to buy kids' clothes and toys. Loads and loads of toys. 

I bought myself a toy robotic arm thing with the excuse of buying it for home. It's fun. I'll be able to spend at least a month playing with it before I hand it to my brother (aka the destructive little monster). If it doesn't break first. I feel like keeping it for myself now. Hmm.

Sometimes I really, really wish I was a five year old so I could play with toys without people staring and thinking I were a childish retard. Some people judge too quickly. Tsk.

Then we ate, gave Syaf her presents, had fun, and came back to have dinner. 

Man, the race is starting in a few seconds.

Adieu.

Questionable Content.

Wow, Stella finally revived her blog after almost six months of neglect. 

Now we're reveling in the fact that Hamilton didn't even get into Q2. Thank God for the Live Race Centre. It's a total lifesaver. 

As much I despise McLaren for being such suck ups, I hope Heikki Kovalainen gets some points and doesn't damage his car tomorrow's race. I honestly think the dude deserves better. 

And can you believe it? Both Force Indias are in Q2. For the first time. Talk about breakthrough. I really, really hope F1 will have a much brighter future than what has been foretold.

Monaco tomorrow. Indian juju one year curse will break, I hope (if you have no idea what I'm talking about, it's okay).

Also, it's Syafiqah's birthday tomorrow. 

Going down to one of the Music Rooms later. It's become a habit. We love our music. I need to jam. 

I've discovered that the best way to relieve stress is to play the drums. Not that I can play, but it's just really awesome. And fun. Really fun.

Kimi P1 in Q2? Sweet.

Please keep this up, Ferrari. Show the world we are the best of the best.

Forza Ferrari, forever and more.

Has faith.

Edit: P.S. Happy Birthday, Barrichello. I hope Brawn let you beat Button this time as a birthday gift. Hey, I just noticed all their names started with the letter B. Cool.