euphemism

It's hard, you know, when you suddenly discover that you don't have a single potential stickbyyoursideforlife friend. I think this is the 'awkward teen stage', when people start to change and never morph back.


Speaking of changes, this Tuesday my uncle Guan remarked (appraisingly, maybe, I don't know) that I'd changed a lot. I remember that many months ago, during this year's Chinese New Year family reunion, another uncle said that same thing. What is it with uncles? None of my aunts have ever said stuff like that. Or maybe I just don't remember.


I have decided... nevermind.


I'm thinking of doing a DMHG fic, but then I might be over with novel-length fanfics. One-shots, maybe, but after I complete IS I think I'll start writing original fiction.


And I've decided that I like the name Elysia. Not that it means anything.


By the way, is there really a Mary Magdalene in Leonardo Da Vinci's 'The Last Supper'? There's a copy of the painting in my grandma's house. When I go there for Christmas maybe I'll have a look, though I highly doubt it.


Oh, oh, I hate you, I really do.


That sounds like...


Nothing.

I am so, so ashamed of myself. (:


Anyway, ZPS. Yippee yippee yarrrrrrrrrrrrh. I don't know. Maybe. Yes! I have the mind of a poetess. Abstract and clear cut like hell. A bloody contradiction. :)


It's a pity, you know. Lots of poetesses and poets from ap.com could be published. Putting it online just decreases their chances of being published.


James Potter! I love!


Ooh la. I'm exceptionally neurotic today. Neurotic, hm... that's my new word. From yesterday.


I'll probably forget it tomorrow. (:


I'm not in my right mind right now. Right mind right now. What a poem.


Not.


What's the definition of a poem?


I DON'T KNOW.


I DON'T HELL KNOW.


I don't... know.


That he is a...a...a


I remember oh-so-well. An excerpt from 'Kissing The Enemy', a fanfic.

When I was a kid, no, I'm still a kid, but anyway. When I was younger, my mum was browsing through these home interior designing magazines to get an idea of how she'd furnish our current house (that was during the renovation), and I happened to see this design of a children's room...


I begged my mum to let me have a room like that. I don't remember her response to that.


But obviously, my current room is nothing like my dream room.


I don't remember it much, only it was really pretty, like it was right out of a Victorian picture book. Everything was so QUAINT and just perfect. If I could see it again, betcha I'd still like it.

I'm laughing myself silly over this fanfic. Written by SuperSpy


“Argh, WHY is it so dark in here!” he yells and that’s when he casts a spell to light the candles in the room.
Lily is hiding her face in her hands.
“No, no, no, I can’t watch. I can’t believe what I’ve done,” she’s muttering. Yeah well suck it up princess. It’s your own fault for not believing me.
As the Marauders’ eyes adjust to the light, they realise what’s been strung around the room. It slowly dawns on them that those colourful banners hanging on string that’s been criss-crossed every which way across the common roomare not banners, but iare actually James’ boxers.
Every single pair he owns.
Including the ones with snitches and broomsticks on them.
And hearts.
And they’re just standing there, their mouths gaping. They don’t move. They don’t speak.
Nothing.
Lily has peeked through her fingers and is watching, horrified at what she’s done.
Sirius is the first to speak.
“Oh my. James’ boxers…are hanging from the ceiling.”
“It appears so,” Remus adds, staring up at a pair with twinkling stars on them.
“It was Lily,” James says suddenly, “Lily did this.”
And at that moment, the portrait opened and in walked the whole of Gryffindor house.
Lily has now buried her face in my robes and all I can do is pat her shoulder.

I have lots of pennames. Maybe not that many; it's up to you.


Camelia Oxcreod - not a pen name, something inspired from a movie, the root of my current hotmail email address.


Saturday Stace - I intend to use it as a pen name. One day. ;-_-


CuteBrownSquirrel - egash. I prefer plain Squirrel.


Stasya - of course, -bows-.


Anastazsia - the version people find harder to type out.


Zenetta (Catucci Torelli) - hmm...


Oh, and my latest one


Adelaida Zabinto - I have an affection for the letter Z.


mm.

OH MY GOD. OH MY OH MY OH MY OH MY GOD. I thought they... abolished the custom...forgot...whatever... BUT NO. YAYNESS.


I love Zhonghua to bits. Thank goodness Stephen Chua didn't come down with amnesia! I'm going back to Zhonghua! For the first effing time in my whole pathetic miserable lowdown life, I am going to actually receive a prize at Zhonghua's Annual Prize Presentation. Nevermind that I'm only receiving it AFTER I graduated. I'm getting-ohmygod-first time-a prize!


ZHONGHUA, I LOVE YOU.


Oh, and I love the postman too.

I've developed writer-mania. You know, that stage when people get all crazy about writing. I've started a novel which probably won't be completed till a few years later. It's fantasy. Because the girl is only six years old, I doubt there will be any romance. Then again, maybe I can change that...


Oh well. I need a yellow notebook. Quick! Vite!


Hock Department Store sells the best notebooks in Serangoon Gardens. Popular sells teh best notebooks in teh country.


Sorry.


www.bookslut.com
www.readerville.com
www.maudnewton.com


Some websites I picked up from a writer's magazine which my mum borrowed from the library. Maybe she's thinking of writing a book as well. She wrote a book once and got it published - an English assessment book. It has a picture of a flamingo on it, I remember. (:


Hockey later. Wish I could stay at home.

I've just discovered something weird. I have an extra pair of FBT shorts in my wardrobe. As far as I'm concerned, I only ordered one pair and none of my family members own any.


There's the possibility of me accidentally taking home, um, someone else's shorts, but AS FAR AS I'M CONCERNED I've never kept any shorts in my bag/shoebag.


Maybe someone accidentally put their FBT shorts into my bag. But it is extremely unlikely. But then, FBT shorts don't just materialize out of nowhere! Well, nothing materializes out of nowhere.


Anyone lost a pair of FBT shorts? =\

Is there... nevermind.


People are starting to be happier.


I'm bogged down with all the homework resting on my head. Rester dans ma tete. Darn, I hate blogger. By default, blogger makes those alphabets with accents look all funny. Like this. cliché.


This, I tell you, is what we should be suing.


Petty thoughts. (:


Oh, well. You know what they say. Thyself shalt not exit of the iron gates of thy house till all work is done with.


I suck at Shakespearean English.


Translation: I will not go out till I finish all my homework.


I'm counting on completing everything by next week.


My mum was thinking about getting contact lenses for me. She and my cousin talked about it just now. My aunt encourages it.


I think they're pretty troublesome to put on, but Tricia, my cousin, claims otherwise.


I'm having second thoughts.


Oh, and I just read Writer's Digest. It's really good; the articles are (as my art teacher in primary school, Mrs. Seow, would say) short and sweet. Still, I swear Mrs. Seow can't recognize good compositions. Maybe I'm just huffy. But she's a nice person, I guess, just that she's a lot like Miss Gwee...


The difference? She's married. Miss Gwee isn't. I wonder what I'm hinting at.


Art teachers. All the same. Sort of.


No, wait. Miss Yasmeen from Zhonghua is really nice, just that she's more into advanced art, if you know what I mean. She's all about abstract art, she marks stuff really strictly such that you're lucky to get a B, stuff like that. She belongs to the Lasalle-SIA College. But the computer system musta cocked up her posting and landed her in Zhonghua instead. Poor thing.


I'm still pondering over whether to send the letter.


Only two! Only two! Only two!


And it's a bit weird, considering that my interest is directed solely at something which is not included in the two.


The last two lines belong in my personal diary. They don't really make much sense here.


I think you figured that out already.


Do you have a habit of reading your blog posts after you've published them? I do.


Maybe everyone does.


I don't know.


Oh, and I've discovered that my cousin Bryan is apparently much more sportif than I thought he was. Besides being a national champion in Golf, he also excels in badminton and running. My cousin Tricia (SNG alumni) is not only a drummer (she was in band) and pianist, she is also a Kayaker (sp?) and is capable of jogging 4.8km, twice our 2.4. Min Lee is a basketballer. Clarissa is a choirist who has appeared on television with her Church choir. Oh, and Sharon, Bryan's stepsister, is also an accomplished tracker with awards in high jumps, hurdles, that sort of thing.


All of them are related to me, this blubberish, failed hockeyer, amateur writer, halfbakedintelligence sort of person. I have so much to live up to.

I've just finished reading The Da Vinci Code. At last.


You'd expect better from a book that's been receiving so much publication.


The story has a brilliant plot - every aspect of a fantastic thriller/mystery is present. It's a great read, just like any other mystery story. Its only claim to fame is all the lovely theories on Mary Magdalene, that disembodied hand, Leonardo Da Vinci etc. New ideas. Apart from that, the story was a great read, but pretty much like any other good mystery.


You'd expect a lot more from a story that's probably given Dan Brown enough money to rival, uh, one third of J.K. Rowling's fortune.


Then again, maybe I just can't appreciate the true history of Christianity, seeing as I don't believe in God. And the holy grail isn't a solid object... I like that idea. But it could be portrayed a lot better. The book was dedicated to the union of the blade and the chalice. Interesting but a genius like Dan Brown could probably express it better...