Happy Holidays

The entry below is a rant and is not intended for the easily offended.

What is Christmas? Is it about family? Is it about love? Or maybe about giving? Could it be about a fat man with a long white beard in a red suit? Or could it be about presents?

None of the above.

I hate to sound like an overzealous Christian on a mission to convert the world, but it's really about the birth of Jesus Christ. I see so many people exchanging gifts and wishing each other joyously but hardly anybody remembers the real reason why Christmas is celebrated, which is sad.

From a day that's supposed to symbolize the birth of a life of sacrifice and the dawn of a new religion it has become an overrated general holiday. No. It has cultural and religious significance. And by cultural, I do not mean in a cheap Hallmark Christmas card kind of way which is how the world seems to have taken it.

I honestly think that if you want to celebrate a cultural/religious event, you must at least understand the meaning behind it. For example, I understand what Deepavali or Diwali stands for to Hindus. When I celebrate it with my friends, I respect the magnitude of the festival. That is how it should be between a multi ethnical society.

Okay. I think I should end this rant here before I lose myself. (: Happy Holidays everyone.

Storm struck.

I managed to escape Cagayan De Oro barely hours before it was struck by a typhoon. The death toll has risen to above 1000, some dying of the floods and others dying from the diseases that followed. My family was fortunate enough to avoid it but others weren't as lucky. If you read this, please have a personal moment of silence for the victims.

I'm still dazed.

That time of the year

The Philippines is a truly beautiful place, made all the more special to me by my family there. My mother is from a little town four hours away from Iloilo and we usually visit our grandmother there every year. My cousins are a rowdy and boisterous bunch (all 50 of them or something being male), but decent at heart. Living with them makes me feel lazy. I can't even want to do anything without them offering (or even just going ahead and doing it!) to do it for me.

17km of pure awesomeness!

Today, I went white water rafting in Cagayan de Oro. The river was 17km long with 21 rapids. And cold. Very cold. I stared down at my bikini miserably and stared back up at the hot sun. Then I shrugged my life jacket on and gripped my paddle like a broadsword. I can do this, I told myself.

This wasn't my first time white water rafting. Coming from a sports-oriented and adventurous family, I'd gone bungee jumping, volcano climbing, white water rafting, spelunking and suchlike with my sisters growing up. It was highly enjoyable and the experience trained us to become the adrenaline junkies we are now.

Anyways, right now I have a godawful sunburn on my shoulder blades (my poor tattoo!) and it's killing me!

Right after that, we enjoyed going on a zipline (flying fox thing) or three. The view of the forest was amazing from the zipline and I enjoyed myself immensely (my mother possibly couldn't say the same- she was screaming bloody murder the entire way).

Quote of the day (embarrassingly from me):

"Hey, guys! What's that green thing in the water? Is that an eel? I don't think so, aren't eels brown? Hmm. What the heck is that thing? Guys? GUYS? Oh wait. Dude. No. It isn't a leaf. It's too big to be a leaf. Ohmygosh, guys. It's following us! Oh no. Wait. I think... Yeah, that's the reflection of my oar."

Tutti Frutti

It was almost 6:00AM and we were checking in for our flight to Camiguin. My youngest sister, the one I constantly refer to as my darling baby, wound her arms around me and I wrapped mine around her in return (yes, we are this affectionate!). She sniffed my neck, bending down slightly to do so.

"You smell like..." she wrinkled her nose a little.

"Beer?" I automatically finished.

"Why would I say you smell like beer?" she asked me puzzled as a Filipino man snorted loudly and coughed to prevent himself from laughing. "I was going to say raspberry."

Disgusted, I replied with "I hate raspberry." The Filipino man behind us coughed a little more. I turned to smile at him.

"Maybe she's tutti frutti," he suggested, chuckling a little. We laughed at his comment. "And anyways, nobody smells like beer in the morning," he said with the supreme confidence of a Filipino (they start drinking at sundown- every Filipino man seems to congregate at some house after 6:00PM and crack open several bottles of whiskey, rum and beer after dinner).

"It's a bit too early in the day to start drinking," I conceded. "Maybe it's an okay time to finish drinking, but it's too late to start."

"Personally, I smell like beer only at night," he agreed.

I'm one of a kind.

And as much as you try, you'll never replace me. You may look as hard as you can, but you'll never find another me.

Not the curve of my smile, or the lifting of my brows, nor my twisted sense of humour.

What would hurt the most is that a cheap replacement is all you can make do with- you'll never have the original again.


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Far East Movement 2011

Yes, I won 2 pairs of tickets for the concert. I shared one with Natato and the other with my bro whose birthday fell the day right before the concert.

Was it awesome?

Hell yeah!

Anyone who knows me well knows that I live for concerts and parties like these with my bros. Obviously, I had tons of fun. What made it even better was the appearances of Adeline and Arul, two people I happen to like very much. And then Far East Movement tweeted me the next day. :D

All in all, definitely a good night.

Finally 19!

Yep, I celebrated my 19th birthday last month in Kampachi with my family and closest friends. This picture was taken by someone very special to me. (: The very same Friday, I had a barbecue party, also for my closest friends. 

How do I describe what happened?

We partied till almost 4:00 and... That's all. HA.

Another Malones gathering.

The uninitiated may not know this, but Malones is like my thing with my guys. We sit around, eat and watch a sports game while tossing opinions back and forth. Sharv will be sitting in a corner with his cigarettes, Chris will be in his corner talking nonsense after half a glass of anything, Jaga tends to follow Chris' example and Aaron and I will find ourselves stuffing our faces and sharing our food.

Tonight it was just five of us. Natato, Sam, Chris, Sharv and I. Four people that I am highly fond of (Sam's also my sister so that's possibly a kind of obligation...). We watched a little of the Malaysia-Syria game while talking about everything possible. We discussed the Sims, Fantasy League, Van Persie, people we don't like, future plans...

Oh yes, have I mentioned the reason for the outing in the first place? We've just finished our A Levels! Hurrah! Sharv and Chris will be taking the bromance route: studying and living together. They're planning on taking the same courses in the same universities while staying at the same apartment. And they've asked me to room with them since I'm practically one of the boys.

But really, I never fail to enjoy myself with these guys. I don't find anything wrong with being 'one of the guys' or a 'bro'. We have this relationship built on respect and true affection and the best part is: no complicated romantic tangles!

"Guuurl, look at that bodeh."

I murmured as I nudged Natato (it's a loooong story) as we watched, enthralled, as Henry Cavill stripped himself down to the waist.

"He works out," she whispered.

After over a year and a half of waiting, I managed to watch The Immortals today! Yes, all thanks to Natato (she's gonna kill me when she sees this!). And yes, if you're actually a friend of mine, you'd've heard the 'year and a half' spiel a dozen times today.

How did I hear about this movie so long ago? Even before it was probably produced?

I stalk Henry Cavill.

How the heck did I know who Henry Cavill was that many years ago?

It all started with a trip to London. In the Tower of London, I spied with my little eye a DVD set (what really caught my eye was Jonathan Rhys Meyers' name on it, hehe). The Tudors. I squealed, jumping on the box, wanting it with every fiber of my being. Unfortunately, it cost (at that time) the equivalent of RM 210. So I forgot all about buying it. Fortunately, Joshua bought me the set for Christmas in KL. The Tudors has been the only series that I've had the patience and persistence to follow to the end.

In it, Henry Cavill plays the first Duke of Suffolk, Charles Brandon. Mmm. The icing on the cake was that Jonathan Rhys Meyers played King Henry VIII. I swear, everytime the sexy pair had screen time together, my ovaries exploded into Andromeda.

I digress.

Was the movie worth the wait? Well, yeahhh.

What was the movie actually about? Henry Cavill cavorting about shamelessly in all of his half-naked glory.

Seriously? Fo' sho', bro.

Abusive relationships.

They happen to guys. I don't know what else to say or how to say it, but it really is a serious matter. Nobody deserves abuse. Everybody deserves respect.

And when you hurt someone, you apologize.

"Abuse" means men or boys who hide in shells, who disguise their pain with laughter, who need support and love just as much as anyone else.

Please, think before you toy with someone else's feelings. You're hurting a person.

4 June 2013- Note: This was when I was concerned about a friend of mine whose girlfriend was. Well. Abusive. I'm glad to say that they broke up very recently and he's doing much better right now.

Despite everything.

He's 17, I'm 19. He's a hip-hopper, I'm pure rock. He dances, I do martial arts. He stays in Singapore, I live in KL. Yet despite everything, we've managed to stay close.

Ian Lim, the best friend anyone could ever ask for. I miss him more and more each day. Come back home soon, bro. Love you.

Singapore GP 2011

This year, just like the last, we drove all the way down for the Singapore Grand Prix, everyone decked out in Ferrari gear. My father was a hardcore follower of the races and the other four of us aren't that into motor racing but we do support Ferrari and get the whole thing but we go along for the awesome concerts and grandstand tickets. Both this year and last, we stayed at Sentosa Island.

First up this year was Charice! Her performance was pretty good but for the first time ever, my sisters and I didn't get a good view thanks to the multiple K-pop fans milling around in front of us. Apparently some guys from The Big Bang or some other were scheduled to perform after Charice and those crazy girls were waiting it out the whole time. Fortunately, I went with my instincts and stood apart from my sisters and my mother and got an okay view and some less-than-okay pictures.

Next up the following day was Shakira. I almost ditched her concert to go for Rick Astley's instead. Apparently, she was lip-syncing but other than that, brilliant performance. I met a very lovely Colombian mother and son duo sporting Ferrari shirts.

After the concert, the extremely cute drummer threw his drumsticks into the crowd and Kelly caught one. The not-so-cute guitarist threw his guitar pick and Sam caught that.

A bit after Shakira was Shaggy! I love Shaggy. Therefore, I enjoyed his performance way more than Shakira's. He performed his oldie goldies "Angel", "It Wasn't Me" and, of course, "Mr Boombastic". Then he sang "Sugarcane", which he just released. It was a pretty good song and I made a point of listening to it when I got home. In fact, I'm listening to it right now.

Then on the last day of the races, right after Vettel won it all, we had Linkin Park! They were obviously awesome. My sisters and I spent hours upon hours waiting for them but we were pretty used to that  (the record for waiting in line for the longest time for a concert goes to the Adam Lambert concert during the 2010 Singapore GP: 12 hours) so no harm done, although I got a pretty decent tan.

Sam (the same sister who went crazy during 30 Seconds To Mars), managed to dislocate her finger in a fight with a middle-aged Japanese lady over a towel covered in Mike and Chester's sweat. Believe it or not, the lady actually wanted Sam to Scissors Paper Stone her for it. Fortunately, a girl behind them overheard and suggested with the wisdom of King Solomon that they should just tear it in half. As for Sam's finger, she can't write for the next month or so.

We met a pretty entertaining young Australian guy named Rhys. RHYS. I flipped when I heard his name (non-friends would do well to understand that I have an unhealthy obsession with Jonathan Rhys Meyers that led me to name my car after him).

The next day, I met up with Ian, one of my best friends. He's studying in Singapore right now and should be finishing up with his O Levels. He's the most amazing guy everrrr. We spent a load of time together that day and I made sure to feed him up. We spent most of the time running around screaming and he attempted to teach me how to speak in a Scottish accent.

All in all, a pretty good trip and I'm already looking forward to next year's Grand Prix! Here's to hoping Michael Schumacher gets signed up under Ferrari again. (:

Bromance.

It was nightfall and the rain poured heavily in sheets onto my car. The three of us inside sang along to LMFAO songs cheerily while I maneuvered my way through the traffic.

"You're a good driver," Chris remarked suddenly.

"But?" I raised my eyebrows at him.

"No buts," he replied with a sincere smile.

Shav, in the front seat next to me, nodded. My heart swelled. Coming from two fellow manual drivers who also happen to be male, that was high praise indeed.

"Dudes," Chris began. "You know, if any of you needed me and I was watching a Man U match, I'd ditch the match for you guys. Seriously."

"But?" I prompted him.

He grinned at me. "But don't let me see any newspapers or hear anything about the match until I watch the replay, obviously."

"You drunk, Chris?" I said, making sure he could see my sideways smile.

"NO!" he exclaimed. He looked at Shav. "I'm sure he'd ditch rugby for you." I transferred my gaze to Shav skeptically.

"I would," he agreed. "But not while I'm in a match. I don't check my phone when I'm playing. But definitely before or after."

I couldn't help the smile that curved my lips or the warmth that spread across my bones despite the extreme efficiency of my air conditioner and the weather outside.

"Guys," I told them. "If I had an interview with Jonathan Rhys Meyers and you guys needed me, I'd screw the interview and go to you guys instead."

"SERIOUSLY?!" Shav and Chris were united in their shock.

"Hey, of course. You're my bros, remember?"

"We wouldn't allow you to," Chris said defiantly.

"Doesn't change the fact that I would."

Silence reigned in the car as we each disgusted the other two's words. The bromance was almost suffocating. Finally, the cars in front of us began to move.

"How long do you think Jega and Aaron will take to get back?" I asked. Shav snorted. "Two hours more."

The atmosphere immediately became cheery again but I never will forget those intense moments when three bros opened up.


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Location:Jalan Permata 19,Kuala Lumpur,Malaysia

Knights of the Weirdly Shaped Table

We sat in Malones, a classy Irish bar, each of us holding a bottle of ale and staring at the TVs surrounding us with the replay of  a Rugby World Cup match from the previous day.

"I still don't understand rugby," I admitted sheepishly. Sharv grinned at me, saluting me his bottle. Jag made a face, indicating agreement with me. "Sharv, deyh, you gotta teach me how to play rugby," he pleaded, slurping down his ale.

Sharv gestured with a characteristic shrug that it wasn't up to him. "When you wanna play laa?" He was referring to our A Levels exams.

"Where are my chicken wings?" Chris whined. Perpetually hungry, we had to keep him fed on low-sugar meals or he'd go on an extreme sugar high, crawling around the place and screaming nonsense. Not that whatever he said when he was perfectly sober made any sense.

"I'm waiting for my burger too," Aaron reminded him glumly. It'd been an hour since the waiter had taken our orders and those of us who hadn't placed orders for food were starting to regret it.

Clunk. The waiter gently set a plate of roasted peanuts down for us. We avoided looking into each other's eyes but waited till we were sure noone in the bar was looking. Immediately, all of us scrabbled for some sustenance.

Sharv snorted. "Animals," he managed to gasp out between mouthfuls of peanuts. I nodded agreeably, munching along. I'd never been hungrier.

Surrounded with friends I could trust and feeling at peace with them, I'd never felt happier either.

BRATs 2011, Malacca

I don't know how to describe my BRATs experience.Yeah, it was a pretty long drive thankfully made interesting on the way back and forth by the guys I was carpooling with. And yeah, I did have oodles of fun. Honestly, I didn't expect to (no I told you so's from you, Natalie!) but I'm glad I was proven wrong.

I'm rather stuck for words so here are some pictures (a picture tells a thousand words, right?) instead YAAAY:

 Uh. That's Sath, my hubby wubbles (it's a long story and it involves his butt), me in the middle and Saby, boob grabber extraordinaire, on the right.

 This needs no explanation. 

Saby again, but this time with two of my friends who turned up randomly for the workshop, Satesh and Sam. I look like a bit of a fatty, but that's okay.

I had a pretty good time with my group mates and all. My group visited a handmade soap shop and the Portuguese settlement (quite interesting for me as I'm Eurasian). I learnt a lot. But not just about journalism but also about adapting (which helped me improve my poker face) and other things which will hopefully come in handy some time soon.

Maybe I'll elaborate some other day. At the moment, I'm a little too bleary. And so I shall end with another priceless gem, this time taken by Chien Teng while Saby and I were discussing... watermelons.

*EDIT: Some guys actually recognized me as the chick with the big Jared Leto, marry me sign. My claim to Warholian fame!

RIP, Aunty May.

She and my mother were as close as can be and we spent much of our time with her, growing up alongside her kids and their neighbours. Sern was Sam's age and their neighbour Jeffrey was mine so the four of us got along very well, sleeping over each other's houses occasionally and having good-natured arguments about everything. Jeen and Kelly had only a year between them and Emily (Jeffrey's sister) was conveniently in their age group. We made a pretty nifty group, of which I was the tallest, therefore the boss.

Aunty May, Aunty Janice and my mother used to spend their time laughing over meals while us kids spent our time playing pranks on everyone around us (once, we went for a Richard Clayderman concert and we were seated right behind the VIPs. There was an older girl seated in front of Sam who kept glancing disdainfully at us children and Sern, who never could stand condescension, pulled out a bottle of fart spray and proceeded to surreptitiously spray in behind her every few minutes).

Two years ago, everything went pear-shaped and we stopped spending as much time together. My mother started shuttling back and forth between KL and the Philippines and somehow, Aunty May discovered that she had cancer. My mother couldn't find it in herself to face the fact that her best friend might pass on anytime. Aunty May, always a robust woman with a cheery smile, lost more and more weight until she became painfully thin. The warm smile remained.

On Monday, I received a call from Jeen. "Her response is very low, she could go soon." My mother cried as she drove us to Gleneagles. We stood there for hours at her bedside next to Jeen and Sern and the rest of their extended family. Uncle Yap made the decision to move her back to their home and she passed away there peacefully, just a few minutes before my mother and I arrived with my sisters.

Since Monday, Jeffrey's family and mine have spent most of our time at Aunty May's home, keeping Sern and Jeen company. Unsurprisingly, this sad occasion has brought all of us even closer together. Sern, Jeffrey, Sam and I were always close buddies. We used to spend many hours whiling away our time in Sern's room, making music or reading or talking or shouting... Nothing's changed. Now at the ages of 17 - 19, we still all lie on Sern's bed. Sern would be using his laptop, Jeffrey would be playing the drums or saying random things, Sam would be singing and waving her arms around while I would be reading out interesting and gross facts from books whereupon everyone will stop whatever they were doing to make the appropriate responses. (Apparently Kelly, Jeen and Emily spend their time doing girly things- none of the four of us ever bothered to find out what)

I will always remember Aunty May as the sweetest woman I had ever known. We grew up calling her "Mother Number 2" and she always listened to us without patronising us the way most adults did to kids. She scolded all of us the way she did her kids and she looked after us the same way too. Mum did the same for her kids by cooking for them and taking us all out together for movies and stuff.

I have no idea to continue. All I know is that the world has lost a rare and gentle person, someone seldom seen in a population with a dog-eat-dog mentality. She never gossiped or said a hurtful thing against anyone. I had never seen her annoyed or irritated in the ten years that I was privileged to be with her. My entire family feels her loss deeply and we all know that nobody could ever replace her and the beauty she had brought us this past decade.

Ahh. No pictures with Jeffrey because he took these.

MTV Worldstage 2011

I never really spoke about one of the most important and emotional moments of my life here. It involves two packs of cigarettes (one Marlboro, the other Dunhill), the Echelon (obviously!), a big banner on which I wrote my first marriage proposal, spontaneous friendships, shoulders and an overcrowded 7-Eleven. In that order.

I drove to Shah Alam early enough that day, on the heels of my arrival back to Kuala Lumpur from Penang. I had a bunch of friends with me and we lined up hours before the gate even opened for us. Fortunately, I had a bigger group of friends there to keep us company and we had a pretty good time sitting there, making our banners.

I need not  discuss the other bands performing as I specifically went for 30 Seconds To Mars, an all time favourite. I honestly still can't believe that I saw them live. Eep.

We managed to make our way up to the front of the crowd by opening up Kyren's pack of cigarettes and passing around free cigarettes to the Malay rempits around us. They took one look at the cigarettes and ushered us to the front. Honestly, the Malay rempits there were really fun guys. :D When Beast came on, all of us were jumping around and headbanging, acting like Beast was some metal band until we realized that one of the Malay dudes actually knew all of the lyrics and was singing along. In Korean. Stunned, we stood there until Beast left and the guy subsided.

Kelly looking like a derp, Natalie wondering what the heck is going on,
Kyren and I looking identical.

Most of the guys also noticed the huge board I was carrying and asked to read it. It said, HUG ME, JARED LETO on one side and on the other, JARED, MARRY ME.

Rempit: Takpe ah, I percaya he akan kahwin you.

Me: Betul? In that case, bila I kahwin I jemput you datang.

My sisters and I have attended almost twenty concerts from KL to Singapore and the Philippines, so we had plenty of experience moving between people and surreptitiously forcing our way to the front. We had lots of fun talking to the people around us and just enjoying the music and atmosphere. And then 30 Seconds To Mars came onstage.

As a huge fan of theirs, I was singing along from beginning to end. It was amazing! Everyone knew all of the words and I was surrounded by other 30STM fans so it felt completely electrifying. My guy friends took turns to carry me on their shoulders so that I could get an amazing view and I feel deeply indebted to them.

However, one person who deserves a special mention here is my fabulous sister, Sam. She was the one who got my Worldstage tickets and who wheedled my dad into allowing us to drive back early from Penang (where we had our annual family reunion) so that we could attend this. She wouldn't have minded missing it except that she knew how much it would mean to me to be able to catch 30 Seconds To Mars live. While we were watching them perform and my guy friends were too tired to carry me up (we were in line for more than six hours AND the concert had gone on for another six) so she insisted that I allow her to carry me.

Mind you, the girl may be taller than me, but she's a lot lighter and skinnier. Obviously, I'm not going to allow her to carry me. So I ignored her and continued singing along to 'The Kill'. All of a sudden, I felt myself go up in the air. I looked down to see her grinning at me. "I don't care how I'm doing it, but you're gonna watch Jared Leto live if it kills me or not!" she told me fiercely. "Besides, I can see Shannon Leto from here and you're too short to see shit." I blinked back tears.

I can't really go into detail about the 30STM performance. It was absolutely brilliant. All of us were standing there, hands in the air, fingers forming the Triad, the lyrics flowing from our open mouths. I don't think I'll ever forget this.

Later, Aaron and I made our way to the nearest 7-Eleven, which was so full as to be overflowing with people. It took us almost half an hour to get to the counter. While in the line, I had to deal with a creepy dude staring at my tattoo and talking about the time he got drunk and had a Playboy tattoo done on his forearm. Aaron and I started mouthing at each other to hurry up. The guy in front of us took pity on the two of us and loudly started a conversation with us, drowning out the creepy dude's voice.

And all of this is why I attend concerts whenever I can.

Happy Birthday, Cyril Ivor Francis Morden!

I remember toddling towards a dark, smiling face. My arms were outstretched as another pair of tanned arms caught me by the waist. A low, deep laugh sounded above me and I felt the sound echo in my heart.

My grandfather will always be the most amazing man to me. No other man will take the place he has in my heart. He is everything I think a man should be: gentle, generous, cheerful and considerate. I miss him everyday that I live and I wish I could live up to his dreams for me (or maybe not, because he did want me to be a nun).

Whatever it is, Grandpa, I love you and I wish you were here.

Little Miss Sociable

I shall be attending the BRATs workshop which will be held in Malacca from the 1st to the 4th of September. Four days of blissful freedom away from squabbling sisters and nagging parents. I will be driving down to Malacca alone and I'll be making my way back once I'm done.

Since I'll be driving, Father has given me The Talk: do not drink and drive. He said that he recognizes that I'm an adult (oh yeahhhh!) and that since I'm above the legal age for booze, it's perfectly alright for me to get a coupla drinks. Just, you know, refrain from operating machinery.

My eye twitched a little.

My father has given me permission to drink.

To drink.

Excuse me, I need to vomit rainbows.

When someone tells you they think you're too wild for them to handle...

... you say, "Thank you".

One day, not too long ago, I had a certain conversation with someone. You may deduce the topic of said conversation from the title.

Wild? Me?

Okay. I concede that I do things that would have rendered me unmarriageable if I lived in the Regency period (heck, I'm rather unmarriageable now just for not wanting to get married) but seriously, in case anyone's ever noticed, we're sort of in the 21st century? You know, the greatest period of technological advancement and the most civilised time period so far (disregarding war, disease, homophobia, child abuse, principles of racial and cultural segregation, religious persecution... etc.) and I'm still considered wild.

200 years ago, I am what they'd call either a 'blasted bluestocking' or a 'hoyden'. Yeah, I'm that bad. I'm both all for education of women and I believe that a woman should be able to make her way through the world without a man to help her.

What is it with men and their silly prejudiced views? Except for the one on female driving, I think that could be true (but I've seen my fair share of horrible male drivers *shudder*).

Maybe it's because I just don't believe in romantic love. I do believe in its existence, but I don't believe in it getting the human race anywhere. Love is the product of several chemical reactions that occur in the brain. It occurs in the part of the brain which causes obsessive compulsive disorder. Coincidence? No. We've even managed to pinpoint the hormone that causes all of that romantic behaviour so repugnant to others: oxytocin.

Frankly, I can't see myself mooning over some boy or girl. I can't see myself giving up so much just for one person. Maybe it's not a matter of can't but more of a matter of won't. I refuse to allow one person to define my life. Not many people of both sexes can accept that. Guys are too egotistic to believe that girls can live without them and girls are too emotional to allow distance. What is the use?

That's why I date vodka. Reliable and lovable.

4 June 2013- Note: I am currently straightedge as of February this year. And I've done a complete turnaround when it comes to love. Funny what two years can do to you.

Dorian Gray

The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde is one of my top favourite books. I was enchanted from the very first sentence and I found Lord Henry mesmerizing; his manipulative psychological games completely fascinating.

• "You, who know all the secrets of life, tell me how to charm Sibyl Vane to love me! I want to make Romeo jealous, I want the dead lovers of the world to hear our laughter, and grow sad. I want a breath of our passion to stir their dust into consciousness, to wake their ashes into pain. My God, Harry, how I worship her!"

• "If this girl can give a soul to those who have lived without one, if she can create the sense of beauty in people whose lives have been sordid and ugly, if she can strip them of their selfishness and lend them tears for sorrows that are not their own, she is worthy of all your adoration, worthy of the adoration of the world. This marriage is quite right. I did not think so at first, but I admit it now. The gods made Sibyl Vane for you. Without her you are incomplete."

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My chemical romance.

I had to attend my chemistry practical class this morning and my usual groggy routine of dumping chemicals around and mixing them was disturbed by my teacher announcing that we would be dealing with alcohols and suchlike.

Hell to the yeahh.

I immediately gravitated towards the aldehydes section of the lab work. Yes, the silver mirror test.

Explanation: When you mix an aldehyde with Tollens' reagent, an ammoniacal silver nitrate usually, the aldehyde is oxidized into carboxylate ions while the reagent is reduced to elemental silver and aqueous ammonia.

The silver precipitates on the surface of the vessel (or the test tube) and this causes a very distinctive "silver mirror". Production of the silver mirror seems to rely on luck and I was pleased when I managed to produce it on my first try.

Here it is, a "silver mirror" with aqueous ammonia removed:

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Seconds, in which beauty is discussed and analyzed.

Beauty (noun): qualities that give pleasure to the senses.

"Beauty is arbitrary," I keep telling my girl friends. "It's an individual decision, the opinion of one person. And as we all know, every damned person on this god given world has a different opinion."

I would like to say that we females are perfectly capable of lounging around without makeup once in a blue moon, but I'm acquainted with too many females to push said point. I do understand the pressure, however. (But if you do enjoy wearing makeup, please go ahead.)

As females, we grow up bombarded with images of what the perfect woman looks like. We develop unhealthy weight goals and eating disorders crop up along the way. Due to desensitization to these issues, we are ignored.

And denied, god bless denial. Despite being commonplace, it's amazing how society chooses to abnegate such goings-on.

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Firsties!

Tumblr has become too insanely hipster for me. Let's see how this baby works out!


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