I:the person who is speaking or writing —used as the subject of a verb

I KNOW I’m going to regret posting this. I can feel it. Strange thoughts tend to show up late at night, and it IS late.

I’m amazed by how a few choice sentences can remind me of certain things about certain people. I haven’t decided whether these reminders make me less of a fool or simply a more bitter person.

Satan in an ill-fitting dress. I came up with that one, and I’m pretty proud of myself for it.

I’ve never portrayed myself as person who is genuinely violent ( a few fellas in 14-05 may beg to differ, I know) but there are people I encounter that I just want to beat up. I want it enough to consider taking up some martial arts class. Why? Because coming up with witty comebacks would be a waste of time and nerve impulses.

I know I sound childish and immature. I don’t care. *sticks out tongue*

Too many “I”s in this post.

P.S: Normalcy will resume shortly.

When The Uterus Drops

If I were to translate the topic I’m supposed to be reading now, it would be something along the lines of, “Incorrect Position of Sexual Organs”. The textbook has no pictures, and I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not, because my imagination tends to run with reckless abandon.

Imagination or no imagination, I’m inclined to do a little bit of random blogging because this chapter is only nine pages long. Quite a treat, I would say.

1. I realized that I never blogged about my trip to Myanmar, and that’s just sinful. No credit cards, no mobile network coverage, dodgy “unofficial” money changers and a 2km walk uphill to Shwe Dagon Pagoda in the rain where there’s no proper sidewalks. I can’t believe that slipped my mind.

That's where we were headed to on foot. My idea, naturally.

2. I am such a sellout. I’m pretty sure about two years ago, I was ranting on and on about finding Twitter and the need for people to tweet every bloody thing they do utterly ridiculous. Now, I have a Twitter account and I’m on it more than I am on Facebook. My cousin Hera called me a “conformer to society” but completely understood when I said I was following sex-bloggers. Sometimes I wonder what sort of impression I leave on that 17- year old. Truth be told, I’m having lots of fun on Twitter because I’ve made it a point not to follow anyone I know from my uni or school. Part of the quarter life crisis nonsense I’ve mentioned before. Wait, I seem to have lost the plot. All I wanted to say was I’ve been following some really interesting people, especially bloggers (erotic and otherwise) and I’m pleased to say that I have a swamp of good blogs to read nowadays.

3. I am seriously considering going somewhere for my next winter holidays. It’s ridiculous, isn’t it? I’ve been in Moscow for almost 6 years and I’ve never gone anywhere besides home. The problem mainly lies in the fact that I like being in places, I loathe getting there. I must be such a disgrace to my Nanna, the woman traveled around Europe alone at the age of 65. At 25, I’m sitting on my wobbly ass complaining about wanting to go places and not actually going. I’ve been leaning towards visiting London, but we’ll see where my bank balance takes me.

Okay. The remaining five pages are giving me dirty looks. Till the next short, visually disturbing chapter.

My Winter Break (I Kid You Not)

I can’t believe I’m going to type this. This used to be my least favourite topic to write about in primary school, and here I am, posting it on my blog for people (yes, all four of you) to read. The exams must have fucked me harder than I recall.

My two-week winter holidays have finally come to an end. I’m looking forward to classes, mainly because this is what I’ve been up to:

1. Swatting flies. Literally. Thanks to Pedro, my half-blind, fully annoying guinea pig. Apparently the perfectly balanced combination of rodent poo, bedding and hidden stashes of food is excellent for breeding noisy, filthy flies. There are so many of them that I’ve gone slightly nutty. I am convinced that they have favourite spots, strategies to avoid me (sitting anywhere above 160 cm from the floor seems to do the trick) and personalities. I’m pretty sure that any sane person will know that I’m expecting too much from an insect that lives for less than a month.

Pedro in his home a.k.a Diptera Love Shack

Either way, I’ve invested in a decent fly swatter. Whenever I go on my daily “hunt”, it looks like I’ve combined badminton with basketball and pro-wrestling. I add pro-wrestling into the mix because there’s a fair amount of smack talk from me while I’m on my killing spree, ranging from “I’m going to kill you and spit upon your buzzing corpse” to “Hah! Go ahead, fuck around with me. Make my day.”

2. Shopping. This one was quite disappointing, not because there weren’t enough outlets with mad sales, or because there was nothing appealing to me. I just can’t shop. I’ve tried. I’ve gone with friends, I’ve gone alone, I’ve tried going early to avoid crowds, I’ve tried going when I had more time than I could care for. For some inexplicable reason, I cannot walk into every shop in a mall and scrutinise every item on display just for the heck of it. I rarely buy stuff because I want it, and even when I do, I rush into a store, quickly scan the place, buy the thing and scurry out. I’ve been in denial for some time now, but last week, when I was impatiently weaving through people to get out of a mall when I has absolutely NO reason to rush, I knew that it was pointless; I just don’t do shopping.

3. Eating. This wasn’t part of the plan, well at least not my plan. My plan was to spend some quality time walking outside with my pedometer on so that I could finally conquer virtual Tokyo and maybe have a small victory in the Tight Jeans Battle. My friends’ plan was to cook all sorts of lovely, decadent meals that would render us motionless after consumption. The choice between gobbling good food and walking in subzero temperatures was not a hard one to make. Class is on Monday, I’ll be wearing track bottoms.

At this rate, my Gynaecology cycle is beginning to look very inviting.