Dun dun dun

Week 8 of uni coming up, and my sense of impending doom isn't quite as strong as it was last semester. Perhaps it's sort of a sign that I'm working slightly harder.

And in a complete contradiction to this, I went to Eugene's 21st last night.

Well, it wasn't just me. But I did go there.

A good gig overall. Not much else to say apart from that. Apart from wondering why I always get a pimple before parties. Ruins the photos. Not that I'm exactly photogenic in the first place.

Also, I dislike how that Jonathan guy mocks me. Probably thinks he's all that just because he's good-looking.

Good Father's Day today too. Had coffee with the family, minus Sarah, and went to visit grandpa later because it happened to be his birthday as well. I give money to grandpa to buy himself some food (don't worry if you don't understand, it's a very Cantonese thing), and Sarah tells me that I'm her hero. I don't know why. Personally, I don't think I'm the very heroic type, despite what I told Meng last night about me going to protect Gotham City (I was trying to get away from him. Quickly). I'm also not a particularly good role model. But yeah. I'll take it as a compliment.

On the topic of good-looking, I haven't gymmed in a while. Like, 1.5 weeks. I feel my muscles atrophying. It's so lame. They take so long to toughen up, but they go away so quickly. Kind of like...trust. Yeah. Muscles are like trust. Profound to the maximum.

Word of the Day: Profound

Yo Steve!

So yeah, the interview with Pitcher Partners, was, to put it mildly, almost an unmitigated disaster.

I should've expected it. It was raining.

Like Taylor Swift, I forgot to say half the things I wanted to. Although the odds do seem to be relatively good, I still wouldn't put a bet on me.

I also haven't been to the gym in a week. I feel like my muscles are atrophying already.

Here's the song, in case you didn't understand the Taylor reference. Listen carefully, or you might miss it. Not that you wouldn't know the song off by heart now, you Taylor Swift fanatics.

Word of the Day: Disaster

Cam Era

This was originally going to be an in-depth analysis and story of what happened with Linda, to coincide with the ending of Valentine's Day (sort of), but I seriously can't be stuffed right now, and I really don't want to put myself through torture yet. So maybe later. A bit of inane rambling will do just find for now. And without (much) further ado, here it is.

I am a little bemused, and a lot jealous, of people who seem to have cameras with them wherever they go.

Routine lunch with friends? Check.

Dinner with family? Check.

Trip out to the city with friends? Check.

Lunch with friends at uni? Check.

Lying around doing nothing with friends? Check.

Walking the dog? Check.

Anything involving friends? Check.


These are all pretty cool, but the one that takes the cake is Grace's photos of her friends and her at the gym. The gym, for crying out loud. Who wants photos of themselves running at the gym?

Anyway, what amazes me as well is that these people can be bothered carrying a camera around with them. And it's a camera, not a phone. The photos are too good to be from a phone. I mean, my camera's as portable as they come. It's actually smaller than my hand, both in thickness and every other possible dimension. And I can't even be bothered carrying that around. Respect to y'all camera toters for dedication.

Word of the Day: Camera
Currently listening to: D.O.A. (Death of Auto- Tune) by Jay-Z

Haiku's are easy, but sometimes they don't make sense, refrigerator.

Quite frankly, I feel like rubbish right now.

Yesterday I developed an annoying sore throat/cough, impeding my ability to converse with people. Granted, not many people really want to hear what I have to say anyway, but it's still annoying. It also makes it seem like I'm always angry, because I don't want to talk. Which is totally not true. Most of the time.

Anyway, yesterday my dad asked me to trim the hedges. Then he found out my throat felt like it was on fire. Don't know how. He may have some psychic ability or something. Or maybe it was the fact that my reply of "Ok" sounded more like a grainy piece of sand paper being drawn across a very rough patch of tarmac. Who knows.

So then he was all like "You really shouldn't, you know, with a sore throat and all. Leave them for me." But what kind of self-respecting son would leave these menial tasks to his already hard-working father?

So I manned up and did it anyway. I don't think it really did more damage to the throat. Or maybe it just feels like it didn't do that much damage in comparison to the burning sensation that I now feel in my arm.

No, I didn't cut myself with the hedge trimmer. My old enemy, sunburn, came back to get me. It didn't help that I'd been reading with my left arm in the sun for the entire morning to begin with either. I think the extended hedge trimming pushed it over the edge.

This morning I developed a sniffle, which I think is just allergy, as I haven't gotten a headache or similar. At least not yet.

So despite the slight ache in my arms from the hedge-cutting frivolities of yesterday afternoon, I decided to gym it up a bit.

Now my arms hurt even more. And my left arm still feels like it's on fire. And I still have a sore throat and a runny nose and a cough. Oh, and my knee injury is actually getting worse. It's freaking creaking now.

To cap it all off, people, or a person, is deliberately ignoring me, or has a more woeful memory than I do.

And this is why I took this thing off Facebook. I don't want people to see me pitying myself. I don't even want to see it. I just don't want to keep it bottled up again, or I might explode from frustration.

I leave you with a Haiku of my own composition.

When you are with me,
You're different to when you're not,
I'm very confused.

Word of the Day: Hurting