Denial defined

Definition of denial:

I don't like her. What's she got going for her anyway?

I mean, ok, so she's pretty, smart, funny and intelligent. And she has a great smile, which, as I've mentioned before, I have a thing for. She dresses well. Like, not just brands. Clean, tasteful and understated. I feel refreshed just looking at her.

And she laughs at my humour, and I laugh at hers. She's unique and different. Like, with most other people, I feel as though I've sort of met other people that are like them. But not her.

And, ok, fine, she's deep as well. I can have an intelligent conversation with her and not bore each other to death.

And I think she sort of wants to talk to me. Sometimes. I hope.

But I mean, apart from that, she's not attractive in any way. At all. Not one bit. Ever. In the slightest. Plus, she's way out of my league. Like, you know, that quaint little movie that no-one watched called Titanic with that DiCaprio guy in it? Yeah, that kind of out-of-my-league. Although that worked out pretty well for him. Well, not really, seeing as he died a horrible death, but before that, it was working ok. But that's a movie. This is reality, which I find so much harder to script and play out.

I'm not in denial. At all. And there's no irony in that statement. Because I'm not in denial. For that statement to be ironic, I would have to be in denial. Which I clearly am not. At all. In the slightest. Not one single, tiny little bit.

Word of the Day: Denial

The Ball of Spiked Hair

The ASEAN Ball should really be renamed the Ball of Spiked Hair (ha, double meaning just discovered). Actually, the whole society/club/racial sect should be renamed The Spiked Hair Club.

If you haven't guessed already, it should be called this because 99% of the guys there have spiked hair, and 99% of the girls there like spiked haired guys.

Anyway, after being conscripted into attending the ball on Thursday night by Yvonne, I quickly came to terms with it. How bad could it be? I'm on a table with friends/harmless people, there's going to be music, drink, food and laughs. Should be a awesome.

Right?

Overall, it wasn't too bad. Apart from the constant danger of getting my eyes poked out by spiky hair, or getting scared by the scarily made-up girls there. The food was of an acceptable standard. The food and drink was aight, but came with a hefty price tag. The laughs were very, very few and far between (that video clip made no sense to Davy either - it wasn't just me). Humour that doesn't make sense just isn't humour.

One of the more amazing things about the night was the distinct lack of Asian songs. Well, not that I expected them to play much of it. But at least one song. But no.

Should go to a ball with more white people next year or later this year. Less risk of getting eyes poked out or getting foot nailed by a 15cm stiletto.


Word of the day: ASEAN