Meeting.

Sue Ann, Richard, Ian, Ian's friend, Glen, Lynette, Sabby, Eilene, Joanne, Wei Ning, Aun Shiang, Mel, Ilika, Kim Min Kyeong, Gwen, Maria, Val and Seb. In this order.

What's today, like, 'bump-into-everybody day'?

"... so we're going for some pre-drinks..."
"Pre-drinks? Isn't AXP(after exams party) like, next week?
What's today?"
"... er, Tuesday?"
True story.

Just like Simple Plan, I'll name this one "Untitled (Self-Pity)".

Ever had one of those days where the only correct response is "WHAT THE _________?!"
Erm, I think you should be old enough to fill in the blanks.

My day's just begun; and I haven't even slept yet.
Two exams in two days... I think I'm gonna be sick.

I blinked a couple of times, in fascination.

Vijay Benedict in church on a Sunday morning.

It looked rehearsed, with the perfectly timed backgroud music track.

The lights were dimmed, and people lifted their hands in worship, as V.B. sang and spoke in rhythmic mix of English and Indian languages.

I just stood, fascinated by the man in an all white suit with a beautiful voice. He seemed to worship even though it was probably routine. The crowd divided into two groups - those who sang along and those who looked like deer caught in headlights.

Guess which group I was in.

We spent two and a half hours at Koorong.

Correction: Ivie and Faith spent two and a half hours at Koorong, a Christian bookshop down Blackburn Rd. I had enough time to pick out something I'd thought Esther might like, as well as some appreciation cards - all for $3.65. (Erm, Esther, if you're reading this - yours made up most of it, okay?)

Anyways.
Just wanted to leave y'all with this age-old issue to think about... something that doesn't involve staying in a bookshop for that long.

As we were walking to Koorong, I kinda adjusted my messy ponytail and looked over at Ivie at the same time. Coincidentally, there were these glass doors/walls that reflected my actions as we passed them.

"I stopped caring about how I looked since I left high school." Or something to that effect.

Hmm, this reminds me. The other day I was at the library with a friend, just talking about music, in general. She'd browsed through my laptop, then exclaimed, "All 'pop'?"

Same thing happened last summer when one of my guy friends checked out my phone.

I admire the fact that people don't follow trends, or want to be their own individuals. It's their life, good on them for making a stand, you know? It's just when people kinda get into stereotyping others for liking certain mainstream things that annoys me. To an extent. (Yes, IB has trained me well.)

If I hadn't reformatted my desktop in a major blunder, I'd show you the proof.
Indie music, bad hair days, lazy fat 'teenybopper' days, whatever.

So, when virtually unknown artists do get famous, and you kinda like their music, would you just leave 'em because they're too mainstream for you? I'm thinking stuff like Taylor Swift here. Listened and loved her debut album three years ago, before 'Love Story' became one of the most irritating songs ever.

It's cool to like the things you like, because you're you. No one else is. And that, my friends, is the freaking moral of the story.

At the risk of being called too sensitive, I'd like to admit that I do care about how I look - because I like to. :)

Today I almost peed in my pants when

the librarian announced that some girl's laptop got stolen in the study area of the library
and I really had to pee -
but there was no one to look out for my laptop.

Turns out my bladder can take it.

Okay, all that aside, I rediscovered a 'bad' habit of mine today. 'Bad', because I'm pretty sure the consequences are awkward.

Here goes... the thing is, I tend to think really hard about something while staring off. Most times at someone. Probably someone random, whose gender somehow has a 85% chance of being male. Damn.

And I don't even realise who I'm supposed to be 'staring' at the whole time, because I'm trying to figure something out in my head... crazy, I know.
Usually it's when I get 'stared' back that I notice.

Oops? What do I do now? Do they think I'm checking them out, or just plain weird?
Should I just pretend I had to look at the clock on the diagonally right side of his head? ...what?

Hmm. And here comes AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWKWAAAAAAAAAAAARD. With the bells on.

Just so you know, when it comes to girl friends, I get off the hook. Easy - but not without the slightest look.

And, well... yeah.

Okay, so I have no idea what to title this post, since I just had a sudden urge to type. Which basically translates to: "Hi, I spend too much time trying to procrastinate from my exams. Oh, by the way, the first one's on this Thursday."

So, erm - here goes spontaneity. (Or not.)

Well, I've been meaning to tell you guys about the weird and dastardly ways of uni life (although in my mental blank state I've forgotten what 'dastardly' actually means, but it sounds cool anyway), which have basically nominated this year as 'The Most Similar To An Obstacle Course Race', aka TMTAOCR. Aka "Tammy", for short. (Don't ask, it was random.)

Let's start with the time of that weird and dastardly assignment. Yes, the one with The Email.
An hour after its discovery.

You see, I was having a quick lunch/breather outside the Sir Robert Menzies building, which is a suspected undercover sabotage by an architect from Melbourne Uni (but that's another story). Just as I was finishing my last few crumbs in the cool almost-spring breeze, a random guy from the group that has been pointedly staring at me from the corner of my left eye, aimed straight for the target. Okay, as bad as that sentence sounded, there wasn't any throwing of rubbish or anything akin to bullying, or flirting - if you were thinking otherwise.

Anyway. So he comes up to me, right, and I'm thinking, "What the heck?"

"Hi, I'm XXX. (This isn't like, to protect his identity... it's just that I didn't bother to remember his name. Call him Barney or something, if you want.) Would you like to do me a favour?" The response in my head switches to "Wow, dodgy."

"Erm, it's not like it's anything bad or anything. (proceeds to ramble) You see, elections are going on, right, and we heard that the opposition party vying for the head of student media position has been telling lies about us. And like, I've complained to the Returning Officer, who is in charge of running the elections fair and square, and he says he can't do anything about it because it's my word against hers. So I've obtained permission to record what she says and use it as evidence, but we need someone who isn't aligned to any party to ask her some questions."

Talk about underhanded. Anyway, back to XXX's aka "Barney's" rambling.

"Uh huh..." "And well, you don't even have to do the actual recording yourself! I mean, some guy will just follow you and like, record the whole thing. All you have to do is approach her and ask her what are her plans for next year's student media if she wins the election."

"... can I not do it? Sorry." "Please, we really need someone and there's only one hour to go before elections officially end today. Look, I can compensate you! I'll treat you to a free lunch!" Yeah, everybody wants a free lunch around 4pm, after you've just finished yours and been rambled at by a guy you don't know.

"Sorry, I really don't want to do it. How about asking that guy?" Points to someone random walking by.
"Is he your friend?" "Uh, no, but you can always try asking?"

In the end, XXX/Barney left without a word. I don't know the outcome, and to be honest, I don't really want to know, otherwise it may or may not leave me with a minor guilt trip.
But I didn't want to risk OCF Clayton being caught in the crossfire, just in case... not to mention, there was enough melodrama to go around already.

And the secret place is...

...really secretive, isn't it?

Yeah, that far away.

I know I haven't been blogging.

And that my posts are uninformative, unattractive and just plain dull.

Well, sorry. It's been an up and (mostly) down year, and I never know where to start or what to say, sometimes. But if there's one thing I do, I blog-hop. Into friends' beautifully penned lives, all trying to be sarcastic, witty, humourous, yet themselves, all at once.

And in a whole year of almost no song-writing, let alone actual writing, I'm beginning to think I'm losing my touch in many things. Like even singing, for example. I haven't even been practicing when I'm aiming to finish my AMEB grade 8 within the next 3-5 years. (FYI, I'm kinda at grade 3, although without a formal cert.)

And all this reflection is just getting a bit boring for me.

I tell most people some things, few people more things, and a couple of them many, many things.

So people know. Why should I repeat the whole process again, but this time, in writing?

Meh.

I'm probably in the "my blog, my rules" phase. Well, like all attempts, this probably won't last too long, methinks.

Keeping the faith;

now that's a struggle at the moment.