Okay, I don't do three posts a day, and I don't intend to keep this up, but somehow, the hell, these wierd things do keep happening to me, and irk, I'm still traumatised by this stupid stupid stupid experience.

It was a fine Friday afternoon, much like now, except that now, I'm traumatised instead of happily surfing the Internet. I was sitting around when my dogs were making a ruckus in the back. Then my maid burst in and shouted, "Ada biawak!" Translated, this means there's a monitor lizard out there in the back.

So thus, my life has just turned upside down. I ran out just to see my two cocker spaniels fighting with this one lizard, which was like damn, 4 foot long? Then I watched helplessly, as the animals battled it out. No, I wasn't a coward, just that my self-preservation instincts were much too strong. Then finally all was quiet, the lizard stopped struggling, and my dogs just bite and held on to the dead body. Or so I thought it was dead.

With a little wrestling match with my dogs, I dragged the first dog away and shoved it back into its cage. Then I chased the second one around the house and then to the front, to the back and then it ran into its cage. Finally I turned my attention back to the lizard that laid there, bleeding. I tentatively picked it up by its tail then threw the carcass into the large basin. Then my maid dragged the basin out to the front and covered it, in case it wasn't really dead.

My mom called some my dad to see if anyone wanted the thing. In fact, well I was told it tasted nice with wine. Somehow I lost all my appetite. Then about 15 minutes later, two guys came over to pick the thing up. Okay, so they gently lifted the plywood covering the basin and peeked in. They were ecstatic over the size of the lizard. It was one of the largest they ever saw. They were gonna eat it later tonight. Somehow they were all so very happy.

Now came the biggest challenge. To pick it up, and place it into a sack. Sounds easy right? Sure, it sounds perfectly easy. Except that when the guy prodded it with a stick, it decided to reanimate itself, jumped out of the basin and charge at my mom. She jumped and grabbed me, while the lizard skittled past me brushing against my leg. And of course I was carrying my screaming mom. Yes, I would never get over the trauma.

Then the bloody thing decided to run into my house. It ran into the door, only that thankfully, one of the guys caught it by the tail and pulled it out. Then it decided to change direction and run in the direction of the gate. Yeah, one of the guys manage to block it, and I grabbed the basin and tried to throw it over the iguana, then well I missed. Anyway, one of the guys picked it up and put it nicely over the stupid stupid lizard.

And it was over. Once captured again, the lizard was quickly tied up and placed into a sack and taken away where hopefully I would never see it again. It end up in someone's stomach then crapped out and never seen again.

Ugh... man, the skin of the lizard felt like sandpaper. Rough, scaly. Man, that's the kind of excitement I had for today. Enough, enough.

I asked you to dance at the disco,
But you said no,
The whole world was watching,
And laughing,
On the day that I crashed and burned,
At your feet.

Crash and Burn - Busted

I've been interviewed, I've been tried and I've been tested.

Though the results are not out yet, somehow, I feel that I have been found wanting.

But I wish you all the best, Janice. You somehow managed to make me feel guilty, and though Erick said you were naive for wishing me well even though we barely knew each other and met outside the interview door, I hope you get into medical school.

I just reduced myself from arrogant selfish b*st*rd to arrogant selfish lying b*st*rd.

Forgive the harsh language, but sometimes when you go for interviews, all you can do is lie through your teeth and hope that the interviewers believe you. Yeah right, like I always wanted to be a doctor and my sister inspired me and I believe in helping people.

When I sit there, grabbing for every lie that my tongue could conjure on the spot, well I feel really, like crap and degenerate. Somehow, there is no redemption for me is there? Heaven is like a dream away.

By the way, read this interesting quote from The Sandman, "What power does Hell have over you if you can't dream of Heaven?"

Why do you want to choose a course in dentistry?

Because I want to be dentist, duh!

Why do you want to be a dentist?

Its pretty fun staring down people's throats all day. Kinda reminds me of Deep Throat. Yeah right. And dentistry is an occupation where its a personal thing. I stare at people's teeth and they pay me to do it. Sort of like a teeth doctor, and as it is with all doctors, we must connect with our patients on a personal level. So they lie there while I hold a big big BIG drill in their mouth and its pretty easy to talk to them without being interupted. I can complain about how noisy my kids were last night, my arguments with my wife, how the stock market isn't doing too well and the IRS is breathing down my neck while I slowly and perhaps painfully work my way around my patients mouth without being interrupted.

Nah, screw all of that, its all about the money. Plain and simple. There is no other reason to be a dentist.

How would you overcome the problem of personal revulsion to patients problems such as halitosis?

Simple, charge them more, and charge them first.

How would being a dentist help you become a better human being?

When I'm a dentist, I'm rich, I don't need to be better when I'm rich. Just rich would do.

What inspired you to be a dentist?

Money.

Is there any more noble reason?

Yeah, noble money.

Are you sure you want to be a dentist?

I'm sure about the money.

I'm sorry but I don't think your materialistic nature is suited for this job.

Then why do people become dentist if not for the money?

Err... well...

You can't answer right?

Wait...

Why did you become a dentist then?

Okay fine, you're in. Welcome to the Faculty of Dentistry.

Thanks. I'll be generous enough to give you a first free visit to my dental clinic after I graduate.

Congratulations, you got your first A in customer relations then.

Wow, and the course hasn't started yet.

Doesn't matter, you got the A

Thanks.

I hate lying awake, lying awake in my bed, listening to the deafening song of crickets in the night, the rustling of trees outside, the whirl of the water pump and the howls of the dogs.

So instead I crawl downstairs in a fit of madness, and try to organise my thoughts. And somehow I hate it all. I hate thinking, I hate lying awake, I hate breathing, I hate livng, and then I hate life.

No, I am not suicidal yet. I just want to end it all. Bring it to my terms. Make things work my way. If I could rework the way things work, I would. Things would work my way. My life, my terms, my way.

What am I thinking about? This time? I'm way too honest. If I wrote what I thought here, I would say too many things that I never meant to say. I know these words were never meant to be said, these lines, penned in my head, locked away for eterntiy, because no one, no one would ever benefit from these words. These logos that weigh heavily on my mind, and roll around like echoes that ache to be heard. And I cannot utter these words. I cannot make anything better with what I have to say. I never did make anything better with anything that I said. I have preserved a lot of things with this painful silence and that's the way this has to go on and on forever. I can't speak the words that cry out to be said. These words are reflections of the true conflict within me, and these words need resolution which I can't carry out. I could heal this pain only by inflicting a greater pain upon others, and when I hurt others, the pain is reflected upon me, and it all grows. The mere utterance of what I have to say would only worsen all that I have, therefore I am doomed to be silence of the damned.

Damned if I do, damned if I don't.

The past is like an evil demon b*tch who comes back to haunt you like the banshee she is.

And I hate reliving or encountering my past. It is too emotional, like all the emotional baggage that I left behind. But that really sucks.

Don't matter. I'm delirious right about now! I have been asked to be one of the first users to use Gmail! Woohoo! Die Hotmail, die! Die Yahoomail! I don't give a rats a$$, I got 1GB online space which is a lot more than ANY website host I have ever seen.

I have gotten 1GB of online space... Yup. Somehow it doesn't seem as great as it was when I first got the offer.

Yeah right! Its still a good thing. Now I don't have to keep emptying my mailbox!! Let's celebrate... break out the beer. Or soda. Or tap water.

Happy birthday, Wei Song.

Oh woe is me, woe is me? What do you do when you have to choose? I hate and love choices. Its like well, choices. Choice = Freedom.

Okay, so what's the big choice right now? I thought I would happily go to NYU already, except that suddenly I'm called for an interview to NUS to study medicine or dentistry.

Now the question that I am always asked after I tell people what courses did I apply for is; What?

Yeah, what? Actuarial science? Dentistry? A bit far apart isn't it? Almost like apples and oranges. Or durians and bananas. Or peaches and coconuts. Wait, a coconut is not a fruit right?

Doesn't matter. I'm just rambling rubbish here because I don't know what to think... I'm really confused and lost and delusional. Oh wait, is that a rabbithole? Damn, Alice in Wonderland suddenly transmogrify into Jason in Hell. Okay, really, what do I do? I could do with advice. No matter what, as long as you got something to say, say it. ArGH!!

Good morning. I would like to wish all my fellow NYU-ians a good morning.

I guess I'm new to this strange new place called New York, and yes indeed it is how it is in the movies, though the action is a bit lacking. I would expect Spiderman to websling around the skyscrapers and lawyers throwing subpeonas on the sidewalk and getting mugged when I step onto the cold tarmac at the airport. Well at least the taxis are how they really are in New York.

So, what's it like walking to this "new world" and this capital of the world? Really breath-taking. Even 8 months ago I would not have imagined I would set foot here. I have dared not hope and dared not dream. Leaving home and braving the perils, and stereotypes, of the stuff of movies. New York is really grey. I could do with a bit more green. But nonetheless, it is a great place. Activity, life, the endless energy that seeps from its citizens inspires a lot of productivity. This is life at its pinnacle.

I really hope to make a difference here. Not make world peace or any bimbotic dream as such. Really, make my presence here in this great university felt, in a positive way of course. I would like meet most of my fellow colleagues out there. Then I would like to leave a mark in this university and more importantly your lives. Because our lives are not measured by the grades we have, but rather by the lives we touch.

Let's make the best of it. Thank you.

I'm really damn bored. Really really really damn bored. Wonder if I can do something wierd.

Oh yeah, I'm on the brink of the step off the deep end. No, wait, I'm at the doorstep of a new adventure, sorta like Alice standing at the rabbit hole, peering down with into the deep dark void wondering whether to jump or not. I wonder whether to be excited or not. Because I'm not entirely sure whether this hole leads to somewhere, not just a dead end upon the harsh cold floor of dirt and soil and grubs.

Well, look on the bright side, if its a hole that leads to nowhere, then I have a perfect place for a grave without needing to move.

Okay, I'm jumping. Here goes nothing.

Tough

When the darkness closes in on you,
And you have no where left to run,
Like a china doll of porcelian,
So sturdy yet so fragile,
And when cracks start to show,
Your cries are not heard,
Then the pieces fall,
You fall apart,
Leaving me to pick up the pieces.

I was wondering whether I can sue my ISP for lag and extremely slow Internet connection.

Yup, Friendster, which was all the rage about say a few months ago seems a bit dead. I'm not actively using it, I'm more of using it to keep track of friends who have Friendster, so it's an interesting look. But that's just it. Its a pain to send messages, very much like emailing, and it loads slowly due to my slow connection.

However, Friendster proves to be very amusing at how people look at themselves. Friendster sort of recommends, and requires (not enforced) that each person upload a picture of themselves to get to know others better. So its kinda cool to see other people's photos, or at least pictures which they think represent themselves.

So far, I am friends with a lion plush toy, Alucard, a football and a llama. Don't ask. Of course there are a few question marks for people who don't want to upload any picture.

I say it could get worse. I sort of expect people to have photos of many farm animals there. Pigs, cows, ducks. The likes. Its not hard to imagine the physical resemblence sometimes. =) Of course then I guess people would also put pictures of stones there. Wonder what they are trying to say about themselves. I'm sort of expecting someone to use a picture of a Ferrari as their potrait. Now that would easily get you hitched if you put the caption, "If you think this car is hot, wait till you see the driver".

Of course, well what about me? I did put up a picture that represents me. Or at least my inner child. And yeah, true to its name and mine too. Okay, that's not how I look like, but its not too hard to look like that. A hockey mask and a big sharp machete. Yup, its Jason Voorhees from all the Friday the 13th.

I just watched Faking It on Discovery Channel and I am indeed amazed. Amazed that I watched the Discovery Channel because I would prefer to see blood, gore and people getting decapitated, but more amazed because on this episode of Faking It, there were these group of women training this girl to be a professional cheerleader in three weeks and then trying to fake it in front of three expert judges.

Wow, really, I say, man, she can well, fake it. Within three weeks, the participant had a complete makeover, became perky and hyper, and learnt the moves. But look, honestly, it isn't all that hard to fake it as a professional cheerleader. By watching that show, I got closer insight into the life and mind of a cheerleader. And it ain't hard from what I see. I could even do it.

All I need to do is trade in my brain for large boobs, extra height and long blonde hair, and I guess the organ store would even give me a rebate of $50,000 for the trade in. Then put on tonnes of makeup, style my hair to the latest fashion and paint my nails. The only thing that would then seperate me from a regular blonde and a cheerleader is because I am taught to err... "shake my booty" in sync with 19 other similar blondes and call that cheerleading.

With the removal of brain and all, I'm sure the perkiness and "natural blonde intelligence" would set it, and it would be like... wow, you know what I'm talking about right? Sure, its like you know... they talk like... like... you know what I mean. Right? Anyway, where did you get your hair done? I just love it. I did mine last time at the mall over at 7th Ave, and the stylist like so dried it and it got all crinkly and stuff and I had to spend days moistu... mositur... keeping it wet or else I'll get split ends. I just hate split ends, especially when they flop around in your eyes and are so hard to comb. Oh I just love those shoes! I have a pair that just looks exactly, and I mean exactly the same, except that it has a strap here, and the heels are like one or two or... or... maybe a bit higher and its black. Anyway, got to go, see you, kiss kiss, hug hug, bye bye.

You know you had the worst day when you send a greetings message to intelligent life out there 20 light years away, and 40 years later, you recieve a message saying, "Could you repeat that please?"

Excerpt from The Kid Whose Left is Right by RavenHawk

Chapter 6 - War! What is it good for?

I am perhaps underqualified to comment on war. But before attempting to discuss war and all sorts of funny stuff associated with it, I first must define war. The definition that war is a state of contention between two states somewhat fails. Although most traditional warfare is defined as the contention of force between two nations, with killings and necessitated death, since late, wars have now grown larger to encompass non-states bodies. I quote from the oft used battle-cry of the most democratic and advanced nation, "There is a war on terrorism." So I guess war is actually an enforcing of a policy of one state upon another state, nation, institution or organisation.

Growing up in a safe land with very little exposure to this war, I find it hard to believe sometimes that I have already lived through a few wars. I have never seen a war except on television and in the newspapers, so it is rather hard for me to believe that wars do exist and yet I am so sheltered. I guess this is where most of the apathy comes from the people, which is the distance of war. I am unaware of the freedom movement of Acheh separatist groups in Indonesia, which occurs in a neighbouring country. What more can you expect me to know about a war that exists far from home shores in a foreign land? This makes it easier to blow up a place like Iraq and Afghanistan because no allies live close by there and no friend would complain. No one would know what's going on, except the images seen on television. Physical distance does distance the heart and mind away from war.

I believe there are other ways of averting war, and war is not necessary a solution. I would not like to say war is inevitable, but no one would actually know if all the wars in history could have been avoided. I say with much conviction that some wars could have been avoided altogether, and too many wars are fought over pride, hardheadedness and plain stupidity. And these weren't just wars of the past, but also wars that have come to pass recently. Very recently. And somehow these wars have no moral justification. Their credibility has gone to the dogs.

But the greatest problem I have with wars are those fought over differences that are just there. Examples are like the Hutu-Tutsi fighting in Burundi, Bosnian-Serbs ethnic cleansing, Israel-Palestine fighting and even ideological differences like that between capitalism versus communism. Instead of understanding differences, everyone decides that they know how to run things and start shooting those who disagree. Yup, that's the easy way out.

I agree some people are better off shot than negotiating with. The world is run by too many stupid politicians more interested in preserving power rather than making a difference. Honestly I think the only reason America went to war to Iraq and Afghanistan was so that George Stupid Bush could maintain his office. Fight terrorism? He was overreacting. Uphold democracy? He didn't start with his neighbours. Save the world? In his dreams.

World unification is a solution to such a problem. It erodes borders and nationality, which is just another form of legalised prejudice. However, to those who believe that the world cannot be unified without use of force, I beg to differ and offer another point of view.

Xunzi, a Chinese philosopher, believed that war was unnecessary, because "the moral power of the true king is so great that he can unify the whole country without a single battle, since the people will come to him of their own accord to live under his beneficent rule" (ripped from here). Maybe that is extreme, but look at the European Union and its natural attraction to all those around it. Exclusive membership plus many perks. Create utopia and people would come to utopia to enjoy what is to be had.

But yeah, wish for world peace? I'm not bimbo enough to believe that is possible just yet, but I dream of it. Ending off with a quote I heard from somewhere, I apologise for not naming the source, war is not about who's right, but rather who's left.

While we are on the subject of reality tv, I simply must toss a comment and cynical remark onto the show American Idol.

I just read an article from MSNBC (http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/4649112/) about how talentless candidates were getting support from the People and as a result they are able to get far on with their sorjourn into the competition while the hapless judges look on.

Honestly, yeah perhaps there a lot of truth to that. Listen to the boos when Simon makes a horrendous but true comment. Jon Peter Lewis is a good example. When America had its chance to vote, look who they voted for. Not a talented singer who could serenade with good lungs, but instead this guy who dances like a dork. And in fact, its pretty easy to understand why a guy like him made it to the final twelve. He was a representative of the People. Yup, all those dorks, geeks, spastic and deprived people who felt that hey, this was a guy like them who managed it onstage. This guy who is probably as big a loser as they are is the closest they can identify with, so they throw their entire support behind him, because if he wins, they win.

So this isn't anymore just a singing show. Its about who manages to grab the hearts of Americans first. That's all that matters. I can't believe that anyone would be so passionate about supporting someone win. Sure, family and friends perhaps. They get fame and popularity. They get contract awards and instant celebrityhood. But unknown strangers throwing in their lot to vote for some one singing up there? Why? Does it matter? I bet less people voted for the presidential elections 5 years ago. Its a crazy world out there.

I guess I have pity for Simon Cowell now that he cannot kick out just any participant he likes.

Okay, about a month or so ago, I made this post about the reality television show, For Love or Money.

Yeah, the cynic in me rejoices because it has turned out even better than expected and money does indeed reign supreme over love.

I can hear the critics beating at the door. They would scream at me that Erin didn't feel anything at all for Rob, and she would choose a million dollars because she didn't love Rob at all. Hah! Good joke! Really. She was never in love with the guy, yet she could still make the guy fall for her and choose her wrongly and screw up the chance of a lifetime. Yup, here's a lesson to all guys out there. You'll never know if a girl loves you or not. Until you wave a million dollars at her face.

C'mon, give me a chance here. I'm trying to just have my say.

I guess Rob now must be the biggest loser on the planet for coming back for the sequel. Being rejected twice on television for the world to see? Did he ever knew how much Paige liked him? Never mind. He's still a loser. Coming back to salvage his pride? I expect he probably wants his million dollars back and dump Erin this time on television just for good measure. Any guy with an ego (yes, all guys have ego) would do that.

But still this looks more like a game for money rather than for love. It would seem that all the prime motivators in the show are money. The producers are waving money at everyone's face. Even the producers recognise that. A million bucks here, another million there. Oh lets just toss out a few thousand first to rile up the contestants. Love has seemed to take a backseat. And the only reason that the contestants do not want to say out their true intentions is because they don't want to be seen on national television as some sort of materialistic heartless *expletive*.

This show does prove that if it is not love which makes the world go round, its definitely money.

Excerpt from The Kid Whose Left is Right by RavenHawk

Chapter 2 - Television, the ultimate baby sitter

Television. Ah, the very word of it sparks controversy all the way from the highest reaches of the political machine to the lowly classrooms of 3rd Grade primary school. Television has always been blamed as the cause of all the social ills that exist such as mutating humans into couch potatoes, and as an acceptable scapegoat of why children turn out the way they are; violent, evil and a rebirth of Les Enfant Terribles. Pardon my French.

"Violence on television causes children to go and shoot their classmates."
"Television promotes sexual promiscuity at a younger age."
"The box would suck your brains out if you stare too close to it."
"My eyes!! My eyes!! I can't see anymore! Blast that stupid radiation from the television!"

People out there, c'mon grow up. Television does not cause evils. People do. Look, if anything, television is one of the most important developments in the history of mankind, and it has contributed to so many aspects of our lives. But instead of debating on all the violence and sex on the box, I wish to focus on a certain issue about the electronic babysitter.

Arguments against the use of television as the electronic babysitter has been few and scant and none to plausible.

"Children are reduced to nothing but couch potatoes. They don't learn anything from television when they sit there in front of the box all day. Children become fat and lazy."
"Television only teaches children wrong moral values. They learn that most problems can be solved with a gun."
"Television robs the children of human contact which they need to develop as a healthy individual."
"Television rots the minds. Books encourage stimulation of the mind because it encourages the child to think and imagine. The television only flashes images so fast that the child becomes a mindless zombie just accepting everything on the box.

Excuse me? Children don't learn anything from television? That's an outright lie. How many of you grew up watching Sesame Street? That program has been the basis of my education for many years to come, and all those educators out there should be thankful to television that I know how to read and count before going to school and being taught how to sit there and pretend to be interested in class. I'm not even going to cite National Geographic as an example. Everything can be learnt on television. Martial arts? Just switch on Power Rangers. Nuclear Physics? Watch Sum of All Fears. Law? Ally McBeal or Legally Blonde (and retarded). Being a detective? Watch NYPD Blues, Monk or any other serial. How to use a gun? Any show would do. Open an arcane portal and unleash demons into the real world? Try Pinhead or Friday the 13th. Television is educational. Plain and simple. And knowledge is power. You can't blame television for giving people knowledge and empowering them to take over the world.

And the point about children being couch potatoes and watching television? I think that's rubbish. If children were sitting at home studying 24 hours, they would be called hardworking and active. But if they spent 24 hours watching television, they are lazy and stupid. But, television is also educational as pointed out in the paragraph before. So if television is about as educational but probably not enough and more interesting as studying, does the opposition of have a point about television reducing children to couch potatoes?

Finally about the point where television robs children of play, I think that's also rubbish. Have you seen children play after they watch a wrestling match? Now that's television encouraging human contact. You cannot deny that. Television has also been a useful references for most of life dilemmas. Look at all those cheesy serial dramas out there and all those soap box operas. They pertain to certain extremes of human life, but they educate us about human relationships and provide better insight and experience into the human heart.

Furthermore there is the extension of television called the game console. Better known these days as the Sony Playstation, Xbox or Nitendo GameCube, these necessary and essential add-ons to any television in any household. These add-ons provide even more human interaction as most two player games are most engaging. Ever seen a bunch of 18-year olds trying to beat the crap out of each other in Bomberman Party? There is so much human interaction and guy bonding that to say that a console game is just a one-person game is an outright lie.

You might wonder why I'm so adamant about television being good and all, and you might even wonder what does this have to do with being a right-hander. Well, just that, since young, I was left alone with the television and in the end, I guess I still turned out alright.

Excerpt from The Kid Whose Left Is Right by RavenHawk

Chapter 1 - I was born a left hander

Once upon a time, in a land far far away, there lived a kid who was just learning to write. As family legend would have it, this kid picked up a pencil with his left hand and started scrawling away at any surface that seems clean and waiting graffitti. However, his mother saw this, and smacked his hand and put the pencil in his right hand. Not to be deterred, and a bit dumb (you can't blame a 2 year old), he switched the pencil to his left hand again and proceeded to scribble away. His mother insistently put the pencil in his right hand, and smacked him again like the little two-year old kid he was. With this psychological conditioning, this young mouldable innocent, sweet, adorable child learnt to use the pencil with his right hand instead.

This was the beginning, and this was how it happened, according to my mom many years later. I was told I started out as a left-hander, and my mom didn't realise this and she coaxed (with physical torture and punishment) me to use my right hand like 90% of the rest of the human population. Here, I guess I should be proud of my mom. Where parents often wanted their children to stand out from the crowd by giving them hilarious names like Justin Keanu Tan, my mom "understood" that the more different a child is, the more he is likely to get teased in kindergarden. Okay, maybe so it was dumb luck that my mom made me right handed unnaturally.

That was how the story goes, and to this day, I am very much adept in using my right hand at writing, picking my nose, scratching, carrying heavy stuff, eating and a whole plethora of other things I would be doing with my left hand instead, if my mom had not taken that pencil and physically conditioned me to use my right hand. Of course my left hand has its uses too, just like its easier to type with two hands, and games like Unreal Tournament required two hands. But nonetheless, for the record, I have morphed into a right-handed person like 90% of the population, and my left hand has grown rusty of disuse.

I have always read that right-handed people are more mathematical, logical and adept at thinking. They are methodical and would work at a situation and they are good at problem solving. Then on the other hand (no pun intended), left-handed people are more artistic and creative. They are more intuitive and seem to be inclined to the arty-farty stuff. When I think of this, I say, hey, I used to be a left-hander, but now I'm right-handed. So which portion of my brain is more developed? The left side or the right side? Am I more creative or logical?

For those who know me, I seem to be the calculative practical egomaniac. I would not disagree. But also I have my occassional flashes of creativity. Some people call it insanity, but I call it creativity. I guess I'm no less creative than my left-handed neighbour. I just need to find my muse. Does this mean that left-handers who switch to using their right hands get the best of both worlds? I find that a bit hard to believe myself. Something has got to be wrong with my reasoning out there. So mothers out there, don't try to make your child left-handed if they are right-handed or vice versa.

A word of caution for those who persist in doing this. My mom said that those who were forced to use their unnatural hand to write have messy handwriting. I guess to a certain extent she was criticising my handwriting. It looks more like artistic streaks across the paper rather than legible alphabets. I have no way of testing this out. But I guess, yeah, I'm now a right-hander. Whether I was a left-hander before, I couldn't tell. I sure didn't take any photos of me picking my nose when I was two.

In the end, all always turns out well. I guess I'm the kid, whose left is now right.

Hmm... irony.

What is irony? And why is my life so full of it?

Despite my failure and disappointment, last night, my weary mind managed to crank out a very nice dream for me. Maybe I was delusional and all, but trust me, I never thought about this girl recently although she was a good friend whom I keep in touch with occassionally.

So yeah, basically the dream happened in a dreamy state (Excuse the puns), but it was with strange clarity. She was driving this landcruiser and I was just happily sitting in the front seat. Chicks? Landcruisers? Never mind. So we decided to pull up at this shopping mall, and there was this entire stretch of empty parking lots by the side (something you'll never get in real life) so she decided to part there. The only problem was that this stretch of road was on a hill with a horrible angle of elevation.

So while she was parking, somehow, she managed to park in such a manner that she nearly hit the television, yes television, which somehow bordered the parking space. Then she forgot to pull the handbrake, something which I had to do in a fit of panic. So yeah, this freaked me out really badly. C'mon she's a horrible driver in my dream, and she doesn't even drive in real life. Man. This sucks. Women can't drive.

Anyway, we walked into the basement lift to go up to the shopping area. And in the lift, I hugged her from behind, and got a good whiff of her hair. (Note: if anyone told you dreams was just rapid eye movement, I am telling you I really smelt her shampoo. I think.) Then we talked, and talked. Talked a little more. About boyfriend, girlfriend kinda stuff. And it was one of those times, I'm really grateful that the lift took forever to reach our desired floor.

And somehow, finally the lift door opened, and we let go of each other, and I just had to wake up.

Now, that's reality slapping you in the face really hard.

I just hit rock bottom. Dammit.

I'm frantic. Okay, there are so many ways of describing how I feel right about now, but heck, I'm frantic. I'm too frantic to lavish my inebriated grandiloquence that I'll just say I'm frantic.

24 minutes and counting down.

Counting down to the moment that would momentuously change my life. Yup yup, and the clock is ticking away.

Okay, brief intro? I'm just gonna see if I'm accepted to the university I applied to. Yeah, final moment, final countdown. Its either moon or bust baby! Do or die, eat or fry. You get the picture.

I'm making a big fuss of all this, I'm setting myself up for the fall. Well never mind, I've already spread my wings and jumped off the cliff. Now to see if I fly or hit the rocks at the bottom of the cliff.

Question of the day:

Can you say no to this question?