Merry Boxing Day

Remember, if you haven't, get me a present because I just might have one for you.

Presents

I didn't actually want to buy a lot of gifts. But then, one gift leads to another and so on and on. I end up buying the most gifts in the family.

The budget was RM50. All the expensive gifts, gifts more than Rm10, are for family. Those for friends are all under RM3. But they are good.

I think that's something I've enjoyed, a lot. Shopping for gifts around RM1. Then, you have to get very creative. Also, the tags are great fun. A chance to be witty, festive and fun. Hahaha.

Im looking forward to Christmas.

Just Flat Incumbus

The spectre of the MOUNTAINTOP EXPERIENCE! You go to a Christian camp and your spirituality and relationship with God climbs. Preferably on the last day, you peak. Then on, its downhill all the way.

I just came back from a Youth camp. I didn't enjoy it. I don't feel any spiritual perk.

It just didn't work for me. Though I know it worked for others.

I didn't feel God. It was just me and the abyss. And when I looked into the abyss, the abyss looked back at me.

Movie

A quick note before turning in, I went to watch Space Chimps.

It is one-of-a-kind. Words cannot describe it. I suggest everyone watch it for an unforgettable experience.

Moochers Theorem

Finally, I put into writing the unofficial theorem that all like-hearted moochers around the world have always known. Perhaps you are a moocher the moment you are born. Or do you grow into one because of your environment?

We're talking about the laws of psychology and sociology here. I don't even know what those laws are. All I know is that mooching is the highest point of self-sufficiency that can be reached.

Mooching is not begging. Begging is asking for money. It is crude, rude and uncivilised. Mooching is an art.

The best moochers mooch without slipping out a word. A slight jerk to the hamburger of choice or a smile to the potato chips.

So here is the theorem:

You have go out with 8 friends and each friends buys a burger at McDonald's. From each friend you take a bite. One bite is equivalent to 1/8 of a burger. How much would you have eaten if you mooched a bite from every friend?

A whole burger! Plus, you would have eaten the most burger of all your friends because they would be left with 7/8 of their burger.

Young Writers' Camp

It's been almost one week since I've returned. Whatever after-camp hangover is over. So, I write this with a sober mind.

YWC 2008 was a writing camp. Last years camp was much more relaxed, we only wrote one piece in four days. This year, I wrote four pieces in as many days. Last year there were sessions and lots of play time. This year there were sessions and deadlines, stress and facilitators pointing to the clock, shaking their heads and asking you to hurry up.

Over the blood, sweat and hands of time we clambered to hand in our articles. Then we waited to see if it was published. Front page? Back page?

Throughout the camp I was always looking out for stories. There was no rest, there was no relent from the gnashing teeth of the newspaper!

But, I enjoyed myself.

I enjoyed writing. I enjoyed trying to find a story that nobody else would write about. I enjoyed laboriously trying to put it into words.

However, I suspect I might have liked writing so much because my pieces were published. I think some didn't enjoy it because they just weren't very interested in writing and they're articles were cut so they felt left out.

The Onion

A story I wrote in YWC:

There was once a tiny little onion bud. Luckily, for this onion bud, it had a really good farmer. Everyday the farmer would come and feed it water and fertilizer.

In the ground, the onion and its friends grew with the tender care of the farmer. They learnt the hardship and goodship of friendship. They matured with time and put on layers. Together, they grew.

Then, one day, they were plucked from the ground. They were shocked, but they trusted their farmer. They were carried into the big place where the farmer lived and put on a wooden board.

The farmer peeled them, then started to dice them. "Help! Ouch! Ow!" they screamed in their oniony voices. They didn't understand this, the farmer they trusted was hurting them! The farmer heard some pleading voices, shrugged and brought the knife down again.

In Flesh and In Blood

I got tickets! I got tickets! Actually, a tag.

A tag to the VIP seats. To the VIP seats for Federer's exhibition match. Federer's exhibition match!

I wasn't invited, yet. I went with a friend. There was a VIP hospitality area with gilded furniture an a whole buffet to eat. But, it wasn't that good anyway. The food was only so-so.

We got court side seats. Court side seats! Closer that ten steps from the players. Close enough to see the hair on their legs!

For me, what was intoxicating was to see them up close, in flesh and blood, in person. This was the Federer. The Roger Federer that kept me up till four am, watching him play that final in Wimbledon. Its bizarre.

Sprinkle some stardust on me.

Geez.

I also got to see Najib's wife. They went onto the court to meet the players and she walked right by us. Close enough to shake hand. She's fat, massive. So big she was teetering and tottering. On the way down, she stumbled. Three men held her.

Tropic Thunder

Give it a chance. I didn't like it either on my first viewing. But the movie is like wine or pu-er tea. It ferments to become better. You start with something that feels wasted, let it rot a bit and end with a very hilarious show.

Up there with Blades of Glory and Hot Fuzz.

Also, I realized I have only written 20 posts this year. Shame.

To Readers

Please feel free to leave comments.

The Management

More About Me

Instructions:
Bold the statements that are true to you.
Italicize the statements that you wish were true.
Leave the fibs alone.
Then, stab 5 people to do the same test


I’m 170cm tall.
I don’t know what I want at the moment.
I’m not happy.
I hate my friends.
I hate my life.
I hate my grades.
He drives.
I’m bored of driving.
I have a white handbag.
I love dancing.
I go clubbing every week.
Shopping is bullshit.
I have a tatoo of a star.
I got my navel pierced.
I have friends that take drugs.
90% of my friends smoke.
I still hang out with my ex, even though our break up was rather nasty.
I'm studying fashion.
I have a business running.
I hate cartoons.

I hate someone.
I have 10 Guess handbags.
I buy CLEO every month.
My parents don't know about my blog.
I have an iPod.
I don’t have faith in the current “one”.
My school mates know about my blog.
I wanted to be a fashion designer.
I love rock emo bands.
I hate it when people cancel last minute meet ups.
I’m a rebel.
I’m starting to like wearing dresses.
I don’t believe in love.
High school's filled with drama.
My parents have faith in me.
I’ve bought shoes this month.
A blogger bitched about me before.
I hate sports.
I heart Italian food.
I hate meeting new people.
I hate nail polish.
The mother bear gives me hugs.
People should start appreciating me.
High school was the worst time of my life.
I have red hair.
One Utama is my second home.
I’m a guy.(sometimes?)
I’m scared of my Biology exam.
I hate vacations.
We’ll last.
I believe in long distance relationships.
I’m going to get high and smoke weed one day soon.
I’ve robbed an old lady.
I’m starting to like applying make-up.
I was a tomboy.
At times I think I still am a tomboy.
I love bitching about people behind their backs.
I still have a best friend.
I have a cat.
I hate surprise parties.
I hate planning parties.
I’m hot.
I’m a sinner.
I’ve got a DS light.
I have a Wii.
I can live without music.
Video games are a waste of time.
I miss the father bear.
I love being in love.
I know how to cook.
I have 100% freedom.
Boys are assholes.
I hate Math.
I love horror films.
I’m happy with what I have.
I slept in my parents’ room for 3 days after watching Scream when I was a kid.
My old friends keep in touch with me.
I don’t read newspapers.
The news is such a waste of time.
Blogging is a waste of time.
I hate animals.
I can’t live without make-up.
I curse like a pirate.
I’m happy with my 11 year old car.
I hate people that are smart.
I love Apple Juice.
I can’t drink for nuts.
I believe that everyone in their teens have lost their virginity.
I’ve got a new phone.
I’m going to get a new pair of shoes by the end of this month.
I love swimming.
I haven’t worked out since March.
I think I’m fat.
I love my friends and family.


ethan/ron/ii-ern/liesl/samuel

Dark Side of the Moon

We only see one side of the moon because the moon doesn't spin, revolve, change, turn upon its axis. We only see one side. The side the moon shows us.

The eyes are the window to the soul. All you see is this mask but behind this mask is a face, behind this face is a soul and most souls have become inherently troubled dark, damp and mouldy places. Left to fester, the shadows grow, creepers creep from the dark places.

People and their problems.

Yesterday, some people joined us for dinner. Dinners are supposed to be happy, laughing occasions. This was emotionally charged. Emotions spilled onto the table like guts and gore. Tears welled, voices rose and there were the insecure shouts of , "I'm alright. I'm okay." Of course you are.

I ran away into the madness and delved into my math. There the craziness couldn't touch me One plus one is two.

They say the world has changed. I would have called anyone insane who would rather put his child in school than homeschool. Now I don't know.

I used to think of homeschool as Excalibur to come swishing down upon the hard grease our inept education system. Like a hot sword through butter, the best of all solutions in this best of all possible worlds.

Now I don't think so. Recent experience has revealed to me that a lot of homeschoolers are cracks. So this makes schooling better than homeschooling? Nein. I also think a lot of schoolers are zombies.

Basically, a lot homeschoolers are the aliens from mars, they don't belong, and schoolers are zombies, without the spark of individuality that makes us human. One plus one makes two. So two is: Malaysia is full of kwaks.

Sometimes, I feel as if I'm going mad, my disillusionment with people and my faith.

Frodo says it all, "It's like the light and darkness are fighting inside me and, Sam, I don't know which is going to win." No, he didn't say that, but I think it fits.

Lord, deliver us from evil.

Laughing My Way Through Life

Not literally. Rather, just being able to let go and have a lot more fun.

Last year, I said that the most significant change to me was my new decision to laugh my way life. Some people frown, others scowl but I decided I wanted to laugh. I wanted to be an optimist who saw the glass as half full and then cracked up laughing because the water was just so funny.

Mental but great.

There are many kinds of laughter. Fake laughter, covering laughter, mean laughter and twinkling, genuine laughter. For me, the best kind is Dumbledore laughter. Twinkling, honest and the eyes quietly delighting in something. Morgan Freeman has this.

When I say I want to laugh, I want to either laugh hilariously or laugh like Dumbledore.

Optimists live longer than pessimists. I think its because pessimists see the all the bad in the world and have some kind of heart attack or lose the will to live. Optimists see all the bad but also see the good and how to get past the bad, finding a joy to live for rather living for fear of death.

I came to laughing my way through life because I decided that, if I had to go, I would go laughing. The worst way would be drowning the best, laughing till my heart stops and my veins burst.

Yes. That's how I would like to go. Or at least how I would like to live.

Not to worry or frown or scowl or scold but to laugh. To laugh and be amused by everything around me so that my last act will to have one last laugh with death.

When Ethan's Back

To get things rolling along again, I will write about our dear friend who went to NS and had probably the worst time in his life.

About six weeks ago, we had a sleepover at his place. After that I asked him if he enjoyed it. He replied, "I'll never be truly happy or truly enjoy myself until this whole thing is over." Well, it's over now. And has he been truly happy or truly enjoyed himself?

I don't know.

I don't know because I haven't met since his return.

But it's good to have back our sarcarstic friend. Now we wait and see how long the sympathy milk will flow for him, or whether he will stoop down to milk it.