Welcome, fellow Graduates!

In that list of "Most Memorable Days Ever", "Graduations" are up there, somewhere between "Wedding" and "The Day I Become A Nobel Prize Laureatte". (One can always dream!)

So technically speaking, today's one of the Most Memorable Days of our lives.

We're GRADUATING yo!

Because of that, I will stop being my whiny self long enough to be emo a bit.

I WILL MISS ALL OF YOU. No no don't raise that skeptical eyebrow I MOST DEF WILL!

Every single person I saw today, I had to go thinking, My Gawd will this be the last time?

Every single thing I did, go canteen buy water la, berhimpun at tapak la, I have to think, Is this the last time?

So yes, I will miss high school A LOT.
I think, I used to complain about my class, I used to get up in the morning thinking of some legitimate excuse for skipping school, I used to wonder just how long will chinese period end.

After perhimpunan I'd be wishing for recess, after recess I'd be wishing for the last bell to ring.

Now I wish I hadn't wished all of those things.

School seemed ultra-fun now, school seemed like the only place you look forward to go to!

NOW, I wish I had a few more days with these people!



That, is FiveScienceSix in its full glory.

(Look at a certain KT trying to steal the lime light! Hahah.)

Together we busied ourselves with wondering when Chinese period would end, instead of actually paying attention to Pn. Ang's boring stories of dead kings and poets, we secretly rooted for victims of Manwir (Jiu Hwei!) when her PPMS (Perpetual Pre-Menstrual Syndrome) effects were manifesting,
we copied Maths homework that originated from ONE person (and later we got lazy and stopped doing altogether), and we somehow convinced ourselves Hardev wasn't actually in front of the class, teaching.

So yeah, I will miss 5S6.

AND, I will miss these people too.



Eight people, eight amazing characters, and a WHOLE LOT of wonderful memories for keeps.

"Big Head Eight", so spontaneously weird, so US!

From monkey-dancing the evening away at Fui's party, to locking ourselves in the store room during free periods and monkey-danced there, to star gazing at a certain beach and celebrating a special person's birthday in a rundown hotel room afterwards (and eating cake in a pretty disgusting way), to practically ORDERING our class to participate in our "Guardian Angel" game (which was a success, if I do say so myself!).

Right, unless I actually get a scholarship to a United World College (which Spam thinks is pretty very hard to do), I think I'll still be seeing you guys a lot after graduation.

After NS lah of course.

I couldn't forget these people either.


(We don't seem to be smiling very broadly, I dunno why also. But we ARE happy, you can count on that!)

Recess buddies all the way back since Form 2, recess was like the superglue that glued us together, since we no longer were in the same class after that.

AAAAHH look at the transition that has happened, we used to talk about crushes and girlie-giggly stuff back then, now we've matured SO MUCH (or so I feel).

I think, I want to give you guys the biggest bear hug, and squeeze the daylights outta you!

Of course, with most of my time spent in class, I couldn't forget these weird, often perverted ('cept Lei and myself) people.


(Despite much practice, EuJoe still has that blur look in every photo!)

They're weird because they play fantasy football where they score impossible goals, they conjure up plans to kidnap the Prime Minister's daughter so as to get a million Ringgit, and they started an imaginary band with the most stupid name (with proper signed contracts to boot).

Thay also (happily) gave us lessons regarding all things sexual. (You know when you have questions about males that you wonder about often but have no guts to ask just any guy off the street? Yeah, those.)
(Most times we don't ask, they voluntarily provide the info.)

* * * * *

Other than the above, there are a whole lot of other people I would miss a lot!

Like the girl who sticks up for her friends no matter what;
like the soft-spoken 'rabbit';
like Wolfie ("Foxie" and "Wolfie", how could they?!);
like my ex-study-buddy who used to keep calling me 'sien ren' (ahh I miss those times!);
like the girl I've known for such a long time whom I really really like, but I don't think she knoes it (you're the one who memorizes literature texts. Yes you!);
classmates like the most handsome girl in school ("Jiao wo shuai ge la! Jiao la!");
the guy whose jokes I learnt to understand (his caption IS a compliment la, he's one of the funniest person I know);
like the person whom I used to be close to in Form 3 (I do not forget friends!);
like our very own David Blaine;
like the girl whom I've been classmates with for seven years;
like the person who'd always insist I'm really a boy (meh. You're very much like a girl yourself);
like the person who drove me to the library (and unfortunately I couldn't join him for later study sessions);
like the always-enthusiastic girl (you'd think she had more than her usual fix of sugar);
like the girl who always has clever, witty comebacks (and the only other person I know who likes green - GREEEEEN?!);
like the guy who hates Marilyn Manson (thinks he's a devil worshipper, which he isn't by the way) that we'd have countless musical debates;
like YOU, for reading this.
Hahah.

(As I was writing that, I had the sweetest SMS from BigFeetWithOctopusArms. Things like these get me all emo-emo again.)

* * * * *

I'd like to end this post with a bunch of inspiring words, but I'm not very good at writing inspiring stuff, so I'll leave it to Dr. Seuss instead.

He is, after all, one of the greatest children's author ever.

(Right, you read this, and pretend it's written by me okay?)



Oh, the Places You'll Go!

by Dr. Seuss


Congratulations!
Today is your day.
You're off to Great Places!
You're off and away!

You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes
You can steer yourself
any direction you choose.
You're on your own. And you know what you know.
And YOU are the guy who'll decide where to go.

You'll look up and down streets. Look 'em over with care.
About some you will say, "I don't choose to go there."
With your head full of brains and your shoes full of feet,
you're too smart to go down any not-so-good street.

And you may not find any
you'll want to go down.
In that case, of course,
you'll head straight out of town.

It's opener there
in the wide open air.

Out there things can happen
and frequently do
to people as brainy
and footsy as you.

And when things start to happen,
don't worry. Don't stew.
Just go right along.
You'll start happening too.

OH!
THE PLACES YOU'LL GO!

You'll be on your way up!
You'll be seeing great sights!
You'll join the high fliers
who soar to high heights.

You won't lag behind, because you'll have the speed.
You'll pass the whole gang and you'll soon take the lead.
Wherever you fly, you'll be the best of the best.
Wherever you go, you will top all the rest.

Except when you don't
Because, sometimes, you won't.

I'm sorry to say so
but, sadly, it's true
and Hang-ups
can happen to you.

You can get all hung up
in a prickle-ly perch.
And your gang will fly on.
You'll be left in a Lurch.

You'll come down from the Lurch
with an unpleasant bump.
And the chances are, then,
that you'll be in a Slump.

And when you're in a Slump,
you're not in for much fun.
Un-slumping yourself
is not easily done.

You will come to a place where the streets are not marked.
Some windows are lighted. But mostly they're darked.
A place you could sprain both your elbow and chin!
Do you dare to stay out? Do you dare to go in?
How much can you lose? How much can you win?

And IF you go in, should you turn left or right...
or right-and-three-quarters? Or, maybe, not quite?
Or go around back and sneak in from behind?
Simple it's not, I'm afraid you will find,
for a mind-maker-upper to make up his mind.

You can get so confused
that you'll start in to race
down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace
and grind on for miles across weirdish wild space,
headed, I fear, toward a most useless place.
The Waiting Place...

...for people just waiting.
Waiting for a train to go
or a bus to come, or a plane to go
or the mail to come, or the rain to go
or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow
or waiting around for a Yes or a No
or waiting for their hair to grow.
Everyone is just waiting.

Waiting for the fish to bite
or waiting for wind to fly a kite
or waiting around for Friday night
or waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle Jake
or a pot to boil, or a Better Break
or a string of pearls, or a pair of pants
or a wig with curls, or Another Chance.
Everyone is just waiting.

NO!
That's not for you!

Somehow you'll escape
all that waiting and staying.
You'll find the bright places
where Boom Bands are playing.

With banner flip-flapping,
once more you'll ride high!
Ready for anything under the sky.
Ready because you're that kind of a guy!

Oh, the places you'll go! There is fun to be done!
There are points to be scored. there are games to be won.
And the magical things you can do with that ball
will make you the winning-est winner of all.
Fame! You'll be famous as famous can be,
with the whole wide world watching you win on TV.

Except when they don't.
Because, sometimes, they won't.

I'm afraid that some times
you'll play lonely games too.
Games you can't win
'cause you'll play against you.

All Alone!
Whether you like it or not,
Alone will be something
you'll be quite a lot.

And when you're alone, there's a very good chance
you'll meet things that scare you right out of your pants.
There are some, down the road between hither and yon,
that can scare you so much you won't want to go on.

But on you will go
though the weather be foul
On you will go
though your enemies prowl
On you will go
though the Hakken-Kraks howl
Onward up many
a frightening creek,
though your arms may get sore
and your sneakers may leak.

On and on you will hike
and I know you'll hike far
and face up to your problems
whatever they are.

You'll get mixed up, of course,
as you already know.
You'll get mixed up
with many strange birds as you go.
So be sure when you step.
Step with care and great tact
and remember that Life's
a Great Balancing Act.
Just never forget to be dexterous and deft.
And never mix up your right foot with your left.

And will you succeed?
Yes! You will, indeed!
(98 and 3/4 percent guaranteed.)

KID, YOU'LL MOVE MOUNTAINS!

So...
be your name Buxbaum or Bixby or Bray
or Mordecai Ali Van Allen O'Shea,
you're off to Great Places!
Today is your day!
Your mountain is waiting.
So...get on your way!

* * * * *

So this is it. The end.

Never able to sit in class and wait for the teacher to come in.

Never able to make up an excuse for not handing in your homework.

Never able to walk to other classes looking for your friends.

On the other hand,

This is it!

The exams, the holidays, then THE COLLEGE!

The adulthood!

The responsibilities that aren't REAL responsibilities yet!

Being able to buy cigarettes! (Just because you're able to do it, doesn't mean you have to, okay.)

Being able to stick your nose up in the air when someone talks to you like a child and say, "I AM AN ADULT! HEAR ME ROAR!" -rwoawrr-

* * * * *

I'm taking a short hiatus. I cannot continue like this any longer.

MUST STUDY.

If you see any new posts after this, be the helpful blog-reader and do whatever it takes to discourage me from blogging anymore okay?

My future depends on this.

If my future turns bleak all of a sudden (i.e. the minute the SPM results are out), I wouldn't want to have to say the blog readers were to blame.

Ciao.

(By the way, seeing as I'm hoping to not blog anymore, I shall now say, GOOD LUCK everyone! Break a leg y'all!)

Please, last-minute exam-eve late-night cramming okay? It'll do you more harm than good.


Ciao #2.


Message to self : Please study, please please PLEASE study! Please don't get distracted! Please please PLEASE STUDY!
(Self-begging as a last resort)



Last and final, ciao #3.

Rule of thumb - Don't be stupid.

If you happen to be a Maxis subscriber, then please please try and not give those nice people at the customer service call center a hard time.

If you are not a Maxis subscriber, then drop whatever service provider you are using now and start using Maxis.
But still, don't give those nice people at the customer service call centre a hard time!

A day in the life of a customer service consultant : -

(And I would know it's real because my cousin told me. He worked for Maxis part time.)


Call 1 -

"Hi, how may I help you?"

"I have a problem with my phone. It sends messages, but it doesn't recieve."

"Have you checked your inbox?"

"Yes, I used to be able to recieve incoming messages, but now suddenly cannot."

"Hmm. Let me see if I can help you."
*Starts rattling off possible solutions one after another.*

"Cannot lah. Still cannot recieve."

*Scratches head, totally stumped. Slightly tired.*
(How much can a 19 year-old part-time worker know?)

"Now can?"

"Oh wait. Inbox full already. Sorry ah."

*Line goes dead.


Call 2 -

"Something is wrong with my phone."
*Starts grandma story of how the phone isn't working ideally.

"I'm sorry, but you should probably contact the manufacturer. We're just the service providers."

"You cannot help? But last time I use Digi, they could help!"

"UH? I don't think it's our, or Digi's responsibility. What phone are you using?"

"Nokia one."

"Then you should contact Nokia's customer service, and have them solve the problem."

"Last time I call Digi they can solve!!"

"But it has nothing to do with Maxis! We just provide the service! I really cannot help!"

*Starts cursing like nobody's buisiness.*

*Line goes dead.


Call 3 - (apparently THE MOST common type of calls)

"Hi. I have problems reloading."

"What problems do you face?"

"I bought the reload coupon. Then I went and scratched it loh. But no number appeared."

(It was later found out that the guy had actually picked a stone off the road/pavement, and had scratched away the numbers altogether.)

"So, what can I do now?"

"You could bring it to any Maxis branch outlets, they can help you."

"But I live in Sarawak, no Maxis outlets here!" (Sabah and Sarawak memang no Maxis stores.)

"I'm sorry then, we cannot do anything. Maybe you could bring it along the next time you come over to West Malaysia?"

"Oh, so you want me to wait until I go over there la?! If I go there 10 years later, I have to keep this thing for 10 years only can lah?!"

"Yealah. Then you wait 10 years then bring here la."
*Puts phone down.


Sigh. You know that person isn't very bright when he has to use stones from the roads.

FYI, my cousin has stopped working for Maxis. He couldn't take moronic calls like those anymore.
The guy dislikes Maxis so much now, he even got a new Digi number.

* * * * *

Kawan-kawan, what have we learnt from this?

1 - Never scratch reload coupons with stones picked from the roads. A 10 cent coin would suffice.

2 - Better yet, use post-paid. Hassle free, problem solved.

3 - Clean your inbox regularly. It's not hard to do. Not asking you to clean your room also.

4 - NEVER work in the customer service department. NEVER EVER.

* * * * *

My mom's colleuge, however you spell it, parked her car at the rooftop carpark, then fell asleep at the wheel.

The next thing she knew, her car had rolled off the edge of the roof, and plunged 70 feet (70 feet!) towards the ground, head first.

Her car was overturned when it landed on the ground, and, well, she died, but not instantly though.

She was crying in that car while waiting for professional help to arrive, and some crazy people went and turned the car over.

It's important to remember, when someone is hurt like that, it's NOT RIGHT to move that person, you could break bones and do more harm than good.

If they hadn't moved her, she probably would have lived.

Freak accidents like these happen all the time, so now do you know how fragile life is?

(You should already know without me telling you, but here you are, just a reminder.)

* * * * *

I was going through Wikipedia today, and looked around Marilyn Manson's Wiki page, and a few clicks here and there brought me to come across a song Manson had written - "Dancing With The One-Legged", on his 'Smells Like Children' studio album.

Manson had written and covered a whole lot of songs, I never admitted to having listened to all of them, but coming across THIS particular song got me very surprised.

Here, this is why -


That's my 'ideas' book, you know, a notebook where you jot down stuff like stupid poems and things that pop into your head.

That, was something I wrote sometime during November last year.

That's exactly like the song title leh! Only with the ' - ' lacking.

What can I say, great minds think alike. Wahahah!

A little bit of this and that

Reader's challenge -

Decipher the Malay short hand below!



Ker Lei and I had a bit of trouble with it.

(Yeah the words in the brackets are Ker Lei's own addition.)

* * * * *

Anyway.

If you were able to decipher the message, you'd know that 5S6 would not manage to get their class shirts before graduation.

Sorry you guys.

We really tried.

* * * * *

Fighter One and Fighter Two both have crushes on LadyLike.

After a bit of (civilized) fighting, Fighter One managed to get LadyLike to go to the prom with him.

During school.

Fighter One is doing his homework, minding his own buisiness.

Fighter Two is a metre away, staring out the window at God-knows-what, also minding his own buisiness.

Tactless Guy comes along and says to Fighter Two (rather loudly), "Eh you know, if you weren't going on vacation then, Ladylike said she'd go to the prom with YOU."

Fighter Two looks at Tactless Guy, all wide-eyed, finger frantically jabbing at the air towards Fighter One, with that Shit-Not-Right-Now! expression.

Fighter One looks up from his book, stares at Tactless Guy and shows him the middle finger from both hands in that very ganas way.

Tactless Guy blinks a bit, and goes, "Oh. Sorry. Didn't see you there."

Then he walks off.

And the interesting thing is, they're all pretty good friends.

* * * * *

Pretending that I have been a very active blogger all this while, I'mma say that I won't be blogging for the entire week-long holidays.

I'm taking pretty extreme measures as a last resort to get myself to start studying.

(Only START studying you know, not CONTINUE studying harder.)

I'll be moving into Times Square!

With my family up till Tuesday, and on my own from then onwards.

No computer + Astro-less TV = Not having to deal with distractions!

I read an account of another classmate/blogger's experience of being alone in KL, and it was really unlucky she had to go through all that awful stuff.

But really, being alone on the streets of KL usually only spells two things - FREEDOM and FUN!

Back then Times Square was our makeshift home for an entire month during the renovation period. My parents would be out during the day, and I had to travel on my own all the way back to PJ for my tuition classes.

I'd always sneak out two hours early just so I could wander around KL for a bit by myself.

I did kind of got lost once, but the Indian shopkeeper lady was more than helpful in showing me the directions.

My parents never found out about my little escapades (and thank goodness for that!), for if they had they wouldn't be agreeing to another week of myself being alone again.

Only it's such a pity that I'd be there to STUDY, 'cause it would've been so fun to wander around again.

You would not believe the amount of time I spend studying.

Nisbah STUDY TIME kepada RELAXATION TIME = 1 : 10

No kidding.

* * * * *

As seen on one of those coloured papers that everyone is being subjected to write at this time of the year -

"Learn to chill la. I dunno why you get so stressed over those unnesecary stuff, like homework and exams."


And during an MSN conversation with the same person -

"You studying?"

"Nope. You?"

"Me of course not la. Those are unnecasery stuff lah."


And he wasn't even trying to be funny. He was being serious.


Ahhhh if only!

* * * * *

For the knowledge of everyone....

Poverty
pov·er·ty (pŏv'ər-tē)
n.

1. The state of being poor; lack of the means of providing material needs or comforts.
2. Deficiency in amount; scantiness: “the poverty of feeling that reduced her soul” (Scott Turow).
3. Unproductiveness; infertility: the poverty of the soil.
4. Renunciation made by a member of a religious order of the right to own property.

This is from Answers.com. My copy of Oxford dictionary on my desk tells me the same thing.

Hahaha, so it IS pronunced POH-verty!

(Manwir is still wrong.)

* * * * *

Blogger Beta now has a labelling option!

The only gripe I ever had about blogger was that I never could sort posts into categories. Now I can!

And the spellcheck is much, MUCH easier to use.

(One reason why you find spelling errors all over my posts is because I am too lazy to bother looking up the correct spellings for words I can never spell.)

Ultimately, Blogger is still the best.

If you're using Xanga *cough* or Wordpress *cough*, come back to Blogger!

You won't find yourself regretting it.

* * * * *

I can't remember when was the last time I did not get a 'C' for my Chinese papers.

AHH that 'C' pretty much ruined my forecast result slip! I memang tak suka.

If I have not been able to get even an 'A' or a 'B' for my school exams for as long as I can remember, what makes me think I can get anything better than a 'C' in SPM?

Or better yet, at the rate I'm studying, what makes me think I can get an 'A' in any of my subjects?

* * * * *

9 days to graduation.

Then we'll be college-bound kids adults!

Till then, adios!

Artsy-fartsy I am not.

Yeah, so this is the most recent revelation, that is both dissapointing and... well, it's just plain dissappointing. And deppressing.

I, Chooiyen, am music illiterate, I am not "up-there" enough to appreciate classical music, and I suck at musical instruments.

Yeah-huh.

And it doesn't help that my own brother is one of the artsy-fartsiest person I've ever known.

I shall now proceed to publish my rare Full-Of-Photos Post, because a picture is worth a thousand words (or whatever it is they would say). In any case, at least it saves me from having to write a few thousand words (which I'm too lazy to write anyway).

So here they are, reasons why I am the music illiterate I am now.



These, are the CDs of music that I never appreciated. They pretty much consist of chamber music, instrumental music, classical music, opera and a bunch of other stuff.

They aren't the only ones though, because my brother asked for most of them to be sent to Hawaii, which my mom so obediently lovingly obliged.
(He's studying Art Education in Hawaii, where he's doing sculptures and paintings and all that artsy stuff.)

I used to think him weird, 'cause when he listens to his CDs, he'd get so into it that he'd swing his arms around, à la orchestra-conductor.

And, he's the only person I know who can ever appreciate something like this...



That's cello music. My mom likened it to the background music for when some psycho in the movies is trying to torture a cat / innocent people / himself.

Yes, I never learned to appreciate fine music.

My brother knew the music and history of Bach and Dvorak by heart.

I, on the other hand, knew the lyrics to these by heart.



"Because you don't know us at all,
we laugh when old people fall,
but what would you expect with a conscience so small?"

Yeah, matured.

I feel so small now.

Moving on,



these, are the taugeh music words that I never learned to read.

The one on the left is my brother's classical guitar exam pieces.
The one on the right is the book given to me by my first guitar instructer, which I happily discarded to the back of the closet when I switched teachers.

My second instructer, hahaha how can I put it, was funny. Both haha-funny and weird-funny.

He had HUGE fingers, they reminded me of sausages, with the ends slightly squared instead of round, which makes barring frets pretty easy for him. Heck, his one finger could have covered two whole frets (okay exaggerate just a bit), but his fingers were really THAT wide.

So me, being 15 and having skinny + short fingers, found barring pretty difficult.

It was irritating 'cause he'd always, always go, "Huh? Very hard meh? What's so hard? Very hard meh??" and proceed to give me that I AM SO CONFUSED, WHY CAN YOU NOT PLAY PROPERLY, VERY HARD MEHHH kind of look.
(Haha, ChuanLing would be nodding her head if she was reading this.)

Anyway, it has been a long time since I last picked up the guitar.

Now I can only read tabs, not taugeh words. HOW SAD IS THAT.

Then, we have this..



This, is the piano that I never learned how to play.

I don't know of anybody who has lived with a piano in the house ever since she was young, and is not able to play it.

That was bought for my brother, by the way. See, it's always him.

I so so so so so regret not taking lessons. How I wish I could play a proper song on it.

It is not very girly-like to not be able to play the piano, or any sort of keyboard instrument for that matter. I mean, more than three quarters of the girls I know can play a tune on it.

Don't laugh okay, but I am kind of thinking of picking it up after The Exams.

Mostly because I read this on the net.

"We sit down to eat and (Sidney Corbett) starts telling me about his transition from a self-taught guitarist and music illiterate at age 17 to a PhD composition graduate from Yale at 25. Although he always doubted his musical abilities, he seemed to breeze through exams and was even awarded the Fulbright scholarship to go to the Hamburg University for Music."

Weeell. Maybe I could make the transition too, hur hur hur! Anyhow.

Moving on.



These, are the brochures from orchestras that I never learned to enjoy.

Yes, those were my brother's. Told you he was the artsy one in the family. No one else I knew would pay to go to an orchestra. A rock concert, yes, but not an orchestra.

The earlist brochures thingie I found amongst the stack were a few from the 99/00 season. Which meant my brother started donning suits and ties and paying to go to the Malaysian Philharmonic Orchestra at the age of 15. And he goes pretty often too, hence the large stack of brochure thingies.

FIFTEEN!

At 14, I was getting high during a Linkin Park concert.

At 16, I suffered from extreme humidity and being in close (CLOSE!) proximity to the other fellow concert-goers (touch here touch there, eww) during a Simple Plan show.

But I never went to an orchestra show before.

(Is the orchestra the band of musicians, or is that what the entire show is called? Or is it what the compositions are called? Is it it all of them?)

Nevermind.

Now we have this.



This, is the drum solo that I was never good enough to be able to play.

I was too lazy to stick around long enough to be able to play and wow people. I guess you could say, I was never the patient, ever-ready-to-learn student that I should've been.

Even during guitar lessons, my teacher would have me go home and practice on a piece.

I'd come back the next week, still screwing up parts that I shouldn't be screwing up anymore.

"You got practice or not?"

(Sheepish smile) "Eheh, no wor. No time la."

GAAH.

But then again, I might have been more motivated to practice if only my AMPS weren't so CACAT-ED.



See that amplifier? See that red wire there?

It has a life of its own, and it is very prone to very random mood swings. It's true I tell you.

Halfway through your playing, it will decide to give you the silent treatment, and nothing would come out of them speakers.

So you have to console it, sweet talk it, gently and soothingly move the wire around for a bit, before it finally relents and decide to talk to you again. Or sing out the tune you were playing on the guitar.

Back then Chuan Ling used to come over with her guitar so we could play together. Don't think having guests meant the amp would behave itself.

I remember us playing, and then my guitar going silent all of a sudden, and so one of us would go over to the amps, twist the red wire a bit, unplug it from the amps, then plug it in again, all in the efforts of trying to have it working again.

"Eh twist it more... more! No sound la. Still no sound. No sound at all. EHH! Got sound!!...... Eh? no sound again."

Shitty.

And when it finally worked, whoever using the electric guitar would try very very hard to not move it too much.

'Cause moving it too much would mean untwisting the red wire from whatever random position it would decide only to work in, and then we would have to go through the whole rigmarole of "Twist again! No sound! Got sound already! Eh no sound again!".

Yeah, pathetic. Really pathetic.

My brother, on the other hand, wanted to buy a classical guitar worth thousands of Ringgit, which my parents obediently lovingly obliged.

Unfair hor.

Back to why I am very un-intellectual-like.



These, are the books that my brother read / magazines that he subscribed to.

The yellows ones on the right are very obviously National Geographic. What else would my artsy-fartsy brother subscribe to? Galaxie? Lime? CelebritySecretsRevealed?

He was only 11 when he asked to subscribe to National Geographic, which my parent obediently lovingly obliged to.

Me? I wanted to subscribe to Reader's Digest last year, and my mom had to keep asking me, "You sure you want? You got read or not? Subscribe already don't read, afterwards waste money. YOU SURE YOU WANT?"

YES I AM SURE. And yes we do have a subscription to Reader's Digest.

Anyway.

While my brother was reading books like "Sceintific Genius" and encyclopedias (yes, he actually read the entire volume), I was reading this.



Yes I had better children's books than these lot, otherwise I'd be pretty pathetic.

By the time my brother was 17, he had already read AND UNDERSTOOD "A Brief History Of Time".

It is THE book ordinary people with ordinary intelligence and ordinary IQ like myself wouldn't TRULY understand.

As for me, I'm 17, and just yesterday I was flipping through Roald Dahl's "The BFG".

Weeeell, I kind of found my hard cover copy of it, and hard covers are better than paperbacks, and it's nicer to read too.

Plus, I needed a break from school textbooks (*disgusted look).

Proves just how intellectual I am. (NOT AT ALL.)

I want to dress in elegant gowns and play one of Beethoven's greatest Symphonies on the grandest of grand pianos in front of an elite crowd of 'high society' people, and when I'm done everyone will cheer and clap in their elegant, high society way and I'll move on to the most elite and the highest of the high society people and proceed to have the most intelligent conversation ever. We'll discuss deep, meaningful topics like the Meaning Of Life and all that.

I want to be an artsy-fartsy intellect toooooooooooooooo!

P.S. My use of "artsy-fartsy" is in a good way. Not the showy, pretentious kind of way!