Fancy a bit of numbers, do you?

Well even if you don't, I do. So here goes!

0: Sightings of/lunches with/kisses from Colin Firth. This is odd, surely? I mean, I've been here for a couple of days now.

1: Bath since I've been here. And no, I don't want to talk about it. It's because of a home renovation project my landlord was working on before I got here, which has been extended by circumstances out of her control, like crap workmen. So we finally got the lumber and paint cans out of the bathtub today so that I could use it, since a swarm of flies had begun following me around in the manner of Pigpen from the Charlie Brown cartoons. She is installing a shower head, since people have told her that students like showers. Those people would be right, too.

2: Bus rides back home from the center of town. Still haven't managed to get off at the right stop yet, because I have problems in both navigation and assertiveness. (Didn't go far enough the first time, went too far the second time.)

3: Guys at Institute on Wednesday. Was very confused when none of them stayed to help all us girls put away the chairs and tables. Considered giving these guys what was coming to them, but I'd been awake for 48 hours (it was the day I'd flown in) and didn't trust myself to do it properly. Also didn't know if English girls are territorial about the reaming out of their men.

4: Cadbury bars eaten, all courtesy of Streets. I love you the most!

5: Minutes it takes me to walk to the library, where my department is. Brilliant!

6: Months of Yasmin, completely free, free, free!

7: Times it has rained. But, there has been at least a bit of blue sky for at least one part of every day, which causes me to run outside (if I'm not already there) jabbering about the blue sky and sunshine in the manner of that one fish from Finding Nemo who's obsessed with the bubbles in the tank. ("Aaaahh! It'sthebubblesthebubblesthebubblesbwahhahahah! My bubbles!")

8: Pieces of clothing I really wish I'd brought. What was I even thinking of?

9: Prayers of thanks uttered when I finally stumbled into the UK semiequivalent of Wal-Mart. I found a duvet cover there that I fell in love with, even though it's not something I would normally buy. And it was on sale. The picture is kind of washed out, but you get the idea. The pink part has threads w/graduating shades of pink running through it. I think it will work later and works well w/the room now. So that's a start, anyway.

10: Pounds spent on new jacket at a store called Peacock in town, so now I can stop wearing my nasty grey sweatshirt thing.

11: Digits in my new mobile phone number! And no, I'm not going to post the number here, because I don't want perverts who may possibly be lurking to call me. That would be gross. But as soon as it's up and running I'll send it to those who want it!

12: Minutes in the country before I started slipping into an English accent. It started with a softening of my "r"s, and now it's progressing so that I swallow my "t"s (the ones at the ends of words) when speaking quickly.

15: Varieties of sandwiches (seems like) at Marks & Spencer. You've got your basic stuff like tuna & cucumber and BLT and egg salad & greens, but then you get things like salmon & cream cheese, prawn & mayo, seafood salad, or Wensleydale & carrot chutney. I got the Wensleydale sandwich today, just because it made me think of Wallace & Gromit and I'd never tried it before. It was sweet, but good.

45: Pounds it cost for my friend to fill up her Ford Focus over here. I don't even want to think of the math in converting over to American. Her dad says it's something like $9 a gallon, which . . . just--yeah.

50: The age of my cute little house, which is very cozy, even if I don't have my own bathroom. But my bedroom is possibly the biggest room in the house, for which I am very grateful.

112: Prints offered at the Print & Poster sale in the Student Union. Good to know those are alive and thriving all over the world. They carried a lot of the same stuff that BYU gets every semester, with the added bonus of the alchohol prints and the pornographic vampire women posters. Also they have the Kurt Cobain poster, which stymies me because these kids were seven years old when Kurt Cobain died. How could that possibly have any meaning for them? Of course, I never got why it had so much meaning for any of the students who cared so desperately about the whole thing at the time, and who have apparently kept on caring for years and years and years.

160: Pounds to use the fitness center on campus for a year, which translates to $283, or $23 a month, which in turn translates to why the crap isn't the fitness center free??? In their defense, it's a very nice fitness center--more like Gold's Gym than the BYU weight room. But hey, I didn't even spend 23 bucks a month on fitness when I had a friggin JOB, okay? Now I'm all torn, because what if I buy this membership and don't use it? Trick is, if I don't buy the membership I'll never do anything. So which is worse?

And now you have played my numbers game!

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Impiety Mystery.

It was the same old boring routine this morning... Blah blah Blah. 7.15am, I'm still stuck at the bus stop. Great?!

Then, one striking figure attracted my attention.

Draped in black metal tee, Impiety Kaos Kommand 696 to be precise. Carrying an electric gutiar, and wearing boots. And partially due to the prolonged heated discussion with Rei of whether one guy called Goat Gladiator is Impiety Frontman online. I have got to be sure that that guy must be Shyaithan from The Mighty Impiety! Woot!

And, from the inferance, I can safely conclude that he lives somewhere near me! That's worth 2 WOOTs! \m/

This so rocks! Fathom having Impiety Frontman as your neighbour?! Madness!

Putting the insanity aside, I've been seriously addicted to Immortal's Sons of Northen Darkness. Abbath's vocals keep reverberate in my ears, ringing me to the call of the great Norse. And, those grim beats and riffs too! Inscribed in my mind! Pity, Immortal is don't know how many days no longer. Besides Immortal, I'm very much haunted by the howls of Nightwish. Goodness Satan! Nemo is good! Wish I Had An Angel too. That female vocalist sure is good!

Recently, I have been extremely pissed by HMV and other so-called good record stores on this minute island of Singapore. It's been 4 fucking long days and they haven't gotten Dark Light in. Seriously screwed up. Luckily, when I checked out HIM's website, they provided a reasonable reason for the late stock due to the extensive packaging and stuff. Bleah, CANNOT WAIT any longer.

Back to this fucked up reality, I'm pretty confirmed that polytehnic will be my destiny. For I can don metal tees to school daily! No more retarded looking blouse and seriously back-dated long skirts and ridiculous school rules. Indeed, I'm looking very forward to everything. But, I'm definitely NOT looking forward to the bloody Os.

Oh yeah, I really wish I can work at Pennisula after my Os. Any shop that sells metal stuff is good enough for me, preferably To Megatherion. Hehe.

I tried using the Ouija Board yesterday night for some light on my school work etc, guess what?! I let 2 spirits escape into this dimension of world. Damn! That pen just wriggle its way off the edge of the paper, twice. I guess my room is pretty overcrowded now. I hope 'they' will disperse their way out slowly.

Okay, my fiends. I guess I have to work harder for my Os. I really want to clear the poly cutoff point for Biotech or Biomedical. For that, I need to improve 5 subjects of mine by 1 grade, which is actually rather possible, gaining experience from Chinese (C6 to B3!).

Speaking of this much-abhorred studies, I guess my hard work for my consistent(ly lousy) chemistry has paid off. Guess what's the grade jump? From a D7 to B3! How shocking! I guess, my effort for Chemistry must be maintained, as due to unknown reasons, Chemistry seemed fun and such an ease to study. TCL, you are the Man!

Alright, my beloved fiends. See you soon!

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I never promised you a rose garden

Okay, it's not letting me post all the photos I want, but these two should give you an idea. As you can see, it's a good-sized room. The desk is nice and big, and I have lots of storage space.

The pink walls and green carpet aren't bad--the colors themselves are fine. It's just the rose stuff that's throwing me. My landlady did this for her mom back when her mom lived in this room, and I'm sure she loved it. I personally love red, but don't know if that would be one of those "adds color and pizazz to the room while working w/the existing scheme" things or one of those "you're colorblind and not in touch with reality" things. Can you even do red curtains against a pink wall? I have to buy a duvet cover for sure, though, so I would like to have a vision worked out before I buy anything.




Any suggestions/orders would be most helpful!

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Hello, you're not that tall.

Those were my landlady's first words to me. I think we'll get along fine.

Thanks to everyone who kept their fingers crossed for me. I'm here, I'm well, and I'm freezing.

Virgin Atlantic airlines is cool, just so you know. You have this personal TV with hours of movies and games and tv shows and music and all kinds of stuff. I watched the pilot episode of House, so still managed to get my Tuesday-night Hugh Laurie fix, even though I was on a plane. Isn’t technology keen? The hot meal was very good and included Tillamook cheddar, which is pretty much all it takes to make my day. Then they brought around bags with an eye-mask and earplugs. I had trouble sleeping, though, which made me very sad.

Also, remember my Samsonite Spinner? I officially want to marry it and have its babies. Everyone else ran through the airport pushing around those Smart Carts, careening all over the hallways and running into people. I thought I was going to have to drag my two suitcases behind me while lunging around in the manner of Frankenstein or other ambulatory-challenged individual. But I didn’t account for the beauty and glory that is my sweet Spinner. Because it has the 4 wheels, it doesn’t NEED to be hauled. I just pushed it in front of me and dragged my carry-on bag behind like some brisk, capable, with-it person. It was like a beautiful dance. Everyone was envious, I’m pretty sure. At least that’s what I think they were muttering about as I waltzed by.

Also I love my suitcase because I was able to pack all of my stuff in one half of the case, only then I had a minor panic attack because suddenly I worried that I hadn’t packed enough stuff and maybe I wasn’t bringing enough clothes with me. Some of you are now rolling your eyes and saying, “Well, of course you didn’t bring enough clothes! This is you we’re talking about. You only take two shirts on business trips and then you have to buy more halfway through the week." Yes, you have my number. But I have my precious precious down comforter and Egyptian cotton sheets, which I vacuum-packed and put in the empty other half of my suitcase, along with a winter coat and a flute and a baby rhinoceros. Who’s rolling their eyes now, huh? (It’s probably still you.) And anyway, that was all part of my plan. Now I get to go to H&M and spend all the clothes money I’ve been saving up. I’d better do it fast, too, before my better financial judgment kicks in.

That passport check took about 11 million years, I tell you. It’s a weird thing, those lines. You are doing the switchback thing, so you see the same people over and over again for 45 minutes, but you have to avoid eye contact and pretend that you don’t see them over and over again. Here were some of the people I kept seeing:

Middle-aged black man in a suit, carrying a very girly black & red carrier bag that had words like “groovy girl” and “really glam” and “Posh!” written all over it.

Young Muslim woman wearing a head scarf and long black robes. She was completely covered, but she was wearing black sequined flip flops, lots of rings, and was text-messaging on the flattest coolest cell phone I’ve ever seen.

The iPod people, who made up 1 out of every 5 people in line. One woman was in a completely different line at the other end of the room and I could hear her music. Also she was wearing 4-inch leopard-print porn shoes. Those who have heard me talk about porn shoes will know what I’m talking about. I have no idea how anyone can wear something like that on an international flight and while standing in all those lines. I’m wearing my Chacos today, and am very grateful to them. I was less grateful, though, when I dropped my laptop case on my foot and gave myself some kind of lesion. Or fracture.

Tomorrow I'm going grocery shopping and getting my bearings on campus. I'll also be telling you more about my room and posting some pictures so you can tell me what to do with it. Best to start thinking now about what you would do with a room decorated in pink and green.

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MSN Fun with Fariza!

Due to some confidental purposes, click here.

Have fun! \m/ Hail.

Oh yes, apparently there's one metaller in my school besides me. I was browsing through my school newsletter, nothing in particular interesting as usual. I was merely scanning through the ever boring pictures, then one puny thing struck my eyes. A Devil Horn gesture. Yes, this \m/. Woot!

I'm so going to hunt that girl down and spawn the infernal revolution in that foul school of mine. Things are going to change! Brace yourself! For the Dark Lord is seizing his rightful dominance over the ignornant lands of this ever-retarded world. He shall walk the Earth and terrorize the living daylights of seemingly innocent passers-by.

Gosh, I do love describing the notorious ways of His Infernal Majesty! Bow down to him!

Hail!

Oh yes, these few days had been heaps full of shit. All I can say is I can say bye bye to first three months in JC. Shut up! Don't ask for the L1R5 score fuck thing. Don't be a busybody! So, I'm setting my mind on polythenic and forgetting about whatever shitload JC fuck.

And yes, last but not least, I am King or Queen in my case for Chinese Prelims! Hail me!

\m/ In His Dark Realm, we dwellth.

HP Lovecraft so rocks!

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Update

First off, I heard back from the shuttle company and they sacked the driver. Yay for social change, even if I do feel guilty. And I just remembered that the driver knows where I live. Lucky for me I don't live there anymore, so it will be my roommates who get set on fire while they're asleep one night. Uh. . . maybe I'd better call them and give a quick heads-up.

Also I'm finally packed and readyish to go. I'm sure I'll have lots of stories by the time I write next, since I will be dealing with airplanes, airports, and the people who frequent them. Please keep your fingers crossed for me that I won't get squished next to a huge hairy snorer, and that I won't get drugged and kidnapped and sold into white slavery, okay? I just don't think any of that would agree with me.

Talk to you soon!

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Letter I had to write to effect much-needed social change

Hello friends, I got back safely from Wilmington, and I even got to fly first class! Only the movie they played was Herbie: Reloaded, so, you know, that kind of took some of the fun out it. The guy next to me thought the movie was great. But he was drunk on all the free airplane booze.

It was when I tried to get from the airport to my house that I had a rather unbelievable experience, which irritated me enough to cause me to Write A Letter.

Ahem.

Dear [Anonymous Shuttle Service]

I have used [Anonymous Shuttle Service] many times in the past few years, both during my time as a college student, and now in my job for BYU, which requires frequent travel. During these trips, I have always had great experiences with your staff and drivers, and I know that many of my colleagues use your service as well. I'm writing because last night I had an experience that did not reflect well upon your company, and I thought you should know about it so that you can remedy the problem.

I took an 11:30pm shuttle from the SLC airport last night (September 21st). I didn't catch the driver's name, but I hope this information helps you identify him. He appeared to be in his 50s, and had silver/blond hair. On the shuttle was another young man named John. He and I were both traveling to Provo. There were also 4 other men who had missed a connecting flight on Delta and needed to find a local hotel for night. We drove to Super 8 first, but it was closed, so they ended up at a different hotel.

My concern is this: The driver spent a good part of the trip expressing to us his dissatisfaction with the routes he was being given. He repeatedly complained in particular about his supervisor sending him to Provo. He was upset because he said that his boss called him back to the office with the promise of a downtown run and instead sent him to Provo again. This driver told us many times that he makes his money from tips, and that driving people to Provo wasn't really worth his time if he could be making more tips by making shorter trips to downtown SLC with more passengers in the van than just one or two.

Needless to say, I thought this line of discussion was inappropriate, so I didn't respond. His remarks, though not hostile towards me and the other passenger, made me uncomfortable. I wasn't about to apologize for living in Provo, or for hiring the services of a shuttle to get me home. I feel that if this gentleman has concerns or complaints about his job, he should share them with his supervisors, rather than with the customers.

We reached Provo and dropped John off at his home. John had been very gracious about our driver's complaints, and showed sympathy for his frustration. After John left the shuttle, the driver stopped the van and turned the interior light on to see what kind of tip John left when he prepaid at the airport. The driver then remarked that even though John's company seems to pay him well for traveling, that sure didn't show up in the tip he left. He then held up the paper to show me the amount of the tip, saying that if he drives someone all the way to Provo then he should get a better tip than that. This was about a young man who had no luggage and who had been very courteous during the entire drive. He'd left the same tip that I left when I prepaid, so I told the driver that he probably wouldn't be happy with mine, either.

I'm sure you would not wish your drivers to speak in such a way to your customers. Maybe this driver was having a bad night, but I didn't appreciate listening to the rant of someone angling for a larger (and completely undeserved) gratuity. I bring this to your attention so that you can prevent this from happening to other customers in the future. Thanks again for the great service you and your other drivers have provided.

Best Wishes,

[Nemesis who does not deserve to be held hostage to the ramblings of cranky hicks when all she wants to do is get freaking home and go to bed, so you'd better fix this.]

The Operations Manager emailed me right back and was properly appalled and apologetic and promised to deal with the situation quickly, which I appreciated very much. I thought about mentioning that the very large businessman next to me smelt strongly of body odor, but I figured that was out of the Operations Manager's control. Plus, I'd been traveling all night too, and probably was not a little ray of freshness myself.

And no, I don't feel bad about turning this guy in, because he already told me that he was thisclose to quitting. Now he'll just get fired instead.

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Dark Light!

Dark Light is ripping into stores in only 4 days time!

Dark Light is going to dominate the music scene for the next few months!

Can't wait any longer, no more!!!

<3 Ville Valo.

And yes, I've been turning to a mega big time mugging machine. Great eh?! I don't know why the feeling of mugging has became so routinised for me and I have been numbened by it. The only thing I need is good metal music to last me through each session. Hehe. Can I say mugging quite rocks? Shit, I'm a real weirdo! Fuck. This can't be happening! But I guess it can be forgiven for this period of time.

Once again, <3 Ville Valo and HIM! Hail Dark Light!

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Must make a disclaimer right here

So my friend Streets is worried that people in Belfast will think she's a poser, on account of she's already picking up the accent without meaning to. I sure hope no one thinks that about her, because maybe in Belfast that earns you a nice brick to the head.

I will probably have the same problem, but since I will be in a nice small town, maybe I will just get sticks or cow patties or whatever thrown at me. Actually I know I will start picking up the accent, partly because it's the only time when I can almost have an English accent without people looking at me like I'm insane, but also because I won't be able to help it.

I can't spend more than 5 minutes in the South without the drawl coming out. But that's because it's in my blood. I tell you, you can't fight blood. When someone from North Carolina calls me at work, we get to talking and by the end of the conversation I sound like Daisy Duke and my coworkers start looking at each other like, "What is she smoking?"

The saddest part was picking up a Utah accent, which I totally did. I haven't made it as far down the scale of degeneracy as to use "sell" for "sale" and "pell" for "pail," but I'm getting close. For example, I can't answer a Yes/No question with a Yes or No anymore.

Q: "Hey [Nem], did you go to the party last night?" (This is a completely made-up question, because I never go to parties. They happen late at night, when I am already curled up in bed with warm milk and twelve cats.)

Normal Answer: "Yes" or possibly "Yeah" or even "Yep".

Utah Answer: head tilt, "Tsk . . . I did."

You know what I'm talking about. Instead of "Yes" or "No" it's "I did," or "I have" or "I didn't" or "I havuhn't." And always with a head tilt or bob of some kind. You watch and you'll see.

My point is, when I start using British spelling and British words and stuff, only 25% of that will be about me being a pretentious freak who secretly wants to be English. The other 75% will be completely out of my control, so please don't stop being my friends.

Cheers, wot wot!

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Aftermath of a chemical warfare.

Woot, chemistry was a breeze! My idea of chemistry took a 180 degree turn, and my morale for chemistry is surely raised. Tan Leng Chuan aka the setter is bound for a good life, because he helped us to do well and get karma points. Good job, TLC!

Indeed! Nirvana for Chemistry!

Alright, back to this cruel reality of being a goner for Physics and EMaths. And, I have yet to face the predictable Ansar's Elective Geography paper, and Eric's merciless Add Maths paper. Hell has yet to unfold itself.

Burdened by the mounting grim tasks of endless mugging, I almost feel as if my talkactive bullshitter crapper side of me is slowly fading away. That's a real con of this fucked up task of mugging.

But to think of the time after those fucked up exams, the wait and mugging sessions almost became somewhat bearable and humane.

I can't wait for jamming sessions with Infernal Saint! I can't wait to show the fucked up society what I'm made of and what Infernal Saint is.

I'm already thinking of what to do after my much-abhored bloody Os, which include learning proper German (so that I can finally understand what Rammstein is singing), learning drums from Mel (if he's wiling to take me as a disciple), working preferably at Peninsula (any metal merch shop, most keen on To Megatherion - Owned by Impiety frontman) and last but not least, slacking and devle into the realm of the famous Lazy Syndrome whom I was diagnosed from Fariza.

God damn it. Can i have a time machine?

Oh yes, Roadrunner Records are having a 25 Year Anniversy All Stars Album. Pity that only Dani Filth is involved from Cradle of Filth. Fuck. I can't wai for his notorious vocals and his poetic insane lyrics for The Dawn of A Golden Age. Dani, you rock so much I can't believe it. <3 Dani Filth! The End by Dino camp sounded like an Emo Anthem. Bleah. Annihilation by the Hands of God is superb, and most reasonably delievered by the Joey Jordison camp. But still, Dani is still going to own everyone's asses and legs.

Damn. I really cannot live without metal. Metal - my medicine to life, my source of bouniful motivation and energy. Hail to metal, you must. \m/

Alright, I'm logging off now, catch you later and may the Dark Lord bless you.

-- Inspired by mortal nightmares, Ebony dressed for sunset... --

DANI FILTH, I LOVE YOU!!! \m/

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No idea.

Phew, these last days had been a crazed mugging session.

My days had been very much routinised. School. Home. A little computer. Mugging. Sleep. What a life?!

Sigh, today's supposedly to be E(asy) Maths turned out to be a utter disaster of a massive scale. Paper 1 is a killer, my brain nerve almost snapped whilst franatically scribbling away those damnable decimals places and fucked up significant places.
Paper 2 is okay, managable. Generally, the best scenario I can think of is getting a B and thank your luck.

Tomorrow is chemistry. Woot, those information zoomed into my head like a USB port! I have no idea why the more I study chemistry, the more clarity I gained for it. Perhaps, practise or mugging do make perfect. But success can be short-lived, as they always are. Let me just hope my accidental nirvana can help me a hand tomorrow.

Oh yes, it had been drizzling with several thunders these few days whilst those abdominable exams. Since I have been so addicted to metal, especially Cradle of Filth, I imagined the track one - A Bruise Upon the Silent Moon's narration : And the Earth was void, and dark. And Darkess was upon the face of the deep. MUHAHA! Then I'll grin from one ear to another like a real jackass.

Oh yes, last but not least, i have found out the principle of flourishes or evil. It is to have Control. Moderation of control. Fusion of the hands and the pasteboards, move as one. Love the pasteboards. Haha. i sound like a pro. But really, now I realised that I don't need very huge movements or strength to flourish anymore, everything just came to me just nice. I guess i have reached a decent level in my flourishing career. Woot. Yay!

Haha, I can be so cranky with my brother nowadays. He got this unidenitified fucked up thing embedded in his flesh, so he decided to operate on it. Using a tweezer, he plucked out a bone/shiny/puny thing. As we were discussing what the fuck is it, we came up with ideas like the Buddha's sacred bone, black holes and an ingrown tooth. The black hole idea is absolutely absurd and proudly came up by me! Suddenly, I love talking crap with my brother. He's a talented crapper.

Alright, i'm hitting the sack or kicking the bucket. Whatever you choose. Night!

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Back in the Dixieland

Because I love you all, and because I feel bad about the last post being lame, I'm taking a break from sipping mint juleps to write y'all something. Of course, by "sipping mint juleps" I mean "perspiring in a most indelicate way and watching in horror as my hair turns into something resembling a poodle coat on top of my head."

I'm in Wilmington, N.C. It lauds itself as "Home of the Azalea Festival," but should instead put "Welcome to Wilmington: Where You Look Like Crap" on the signs. Love the airport, though. It's teeny, but had free wireless and these really nice rocking chairs instead of those nasty chairs you usually find in baggage claims.

Also, my confession for the day: I turned into a total Sabbath breaker the moment Mr. and Mrs. Smith started playing on the airplane. Because really, how can you resist something like Brad Pitt looking all hot an' stuff? You can't. You don't. Savvymom, back me up here. I tried to make up for it by listening to some Mormon Tabernacle Choir music during my layover, which would have worked if it weren't for all the Brad flashbacks. (hee. hee hee.)

My dear friend, whom I'll call Sahkmet because she sometimes posts here under that name, drove down from Chapel Hill to see me, which was a huge treat for me. We had a lovely evening, wherein we went to Wrightsville Beach (5 minutes away from the hotel) and saw the sun set. Then we did some more Sabbath-breaking by eating dinner at a tapas-style restaurant called Boca Bay. We went back to the hotel after dinner and realized that it was 7:30pm and we were sitting in a hotel room watching the Food Network--and not even a good show, but something about how Cheetos are made. So we left the room quickly and went back down to the beach to walk along the shore like normal people.

And now I have to get ready to go exhibit at this conference thingie, which was the stated purpose of my trip. I really just came for the beach.

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Some pictures...

Now, dearest Emo kids, are you true enough? MUAHAHA!!!

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Dani, spare me a life!

Due to the killer physics exams, my brain has somewhat came to a instaneously rest after a gruelling 5 hours of acceleration in that -10'C school hall. You can go calculate the force i have used, and the latent brain matter fusion/vapourisation whatever.

Due to being partially brain dead, I accidentally typed ''dusk'' and ''ducks''. I have no idea why, don't ask me. ''Ducks and her Embrace.'' OOPS! Dani, don't kill me please!!! I'll find you a nymph for your vulgar delight.

Tomorrow is E Maths, I really hope E stands for Easy. But usually, that's not the case.

I'm a goner for my physics aka faeces. (faeces, physics, sound-a-likes) I must go pray to Guan Yin Ma for blessings and to print out tailsmans from www.guanyinma.com.

Haha, I have no idea why my head keep looping Cradle of Filth songs whilst exams. Perhaps, Dani is trying to help us The Filths somehow. Thanks, Dani! Haha, I was headbanging inside silently, somehow enjoying the time there amidst the nerve-wrecking bout of crapping through and maddening rush to finish the paper.

Bleah, in the ultimate end, exams are still there to piss you off.

STUDY! I hate this conformed and brainless society who just sought to do well for ther certificates, and not for the passion of the subject. They are just too brainwashed. I see no point in it, at all.

Oh yes, these 2 days, I'm getting hooked to Parkour videos. Those guys are fucking insane! Real life spidermans! Woot! Admire their death-defying jumps and drops.

- Song blaring : Dimmu Borgir - Relinquishment of Spirit.
- Mood: brain dead.

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Panicking? Who's panicking? I'm not panicking.

The reason I am not panicking is that blissful little coping mechanism called denial. Denial is my new best friend. We go clothes-shopping and everything. I'm not panicked at all that I have 10 days left to do everything I still need to do. Another thing that's helping me is my other new best friend. Her name is displacement activity. We all have such a fab time.

Yesterday I was supposed to sew up the hem of my skirt, buy groceries, buy and mail a wedding gift, sort through my DVDs, make a cheeseball for Treat Day, and figure out if I can cram my down comforter into a suitcase. Instead, I went out for all-you-can-eat sushi with Cicada, The Perv, and Brother #2. We had a lovely time. I recommend the Vegas roll, which is a big huge portion of tempura-fried goodness. I do not recommend the squid(?) nigiri, because that mess has the consistency of a tire.

I also spent a good part of last night (you know, when I wasn't doing the things I was supposed to) downloading my roommates' CDs onto my computer. That way I get to spend a good part of today listening to things like the sweet sweet strains of Terrence Mann. (He's the voice of the Beast in the Beauty & the Beast musical, which I just copied from my roommate, and man can that guy sing. He's also Javert in Les Miserables and Chauvelin in The Scarlet Pimpernel, if you want to know exactly how big of a geek I am. Anyway, voice like butter, people. Voice. Like. Butter.)

This morning I couldn't disappoint my sweet coworkers who wanted the cheeseball, so I bought the supplies on my way to work and made the thing at my desk. It turned out very well, I might add. Then Martha Stewart called me to ask for tips, but I just said, "Dream on, jailbird!" and hung up.

If anyone else has suggestions of other fun displacement activities, feel free to post them!

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Norwegian Black Metal addiction.

Okay. I'm getting real hooked to Nordic black metal. It's good!

Haha, this post is useless.

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My letters to the world

Dear married couple who lives in my brother's apartment complex in Rexburg ID,

I understand that you are now married and can give in to those urges that have been just eating away at you for the first 19 and 22 years of your respective lives. Bully for you. However, I would ask that you not engage in satisfying said urges while on your balcony at 3:00pm in full view of my sweet baby brother who has to walk by your apartment to get to the laundry room.

This is why you have an apartment. You have a bed, floors, tables, kitchen counters--heck, you could even drag in the patio furniture you were abusing. I promise that we will all believe that you two love each other the absolute most and that no one else could possibly be as blissfully happy as you are without the public demonstration.


Dear married couple that stood in line in front of me at Coney's,

First off, sweetheart, that cowboy hat just looks stupid. Were you trying to shade your eyes from the nonglare of the sun? Did you come to Coney's straight from baling hay or something? Given that you were wearing platform shoes I find that doubtful. But this is all beside the point.

The point is that I would really appreciate it if you could stop sucking off your husband's face for the 28 seconds it takes to order your friggin' ice cream so that the attractive and ice-cream-deprived people behind you don't have to keep waiting to place their own order. If you really couldn't hold off for 28 seconds, why did you even bother leaving the house? That's why we have take-out, people.


Dear couples who show restraint and only engage in socially appropriate displays of affection whilst in public,

I salute you, and wish you a lifetime of the happiness that you deserve.


Dear every other couple who engages in line-crossing PDA within my presence,

You look ridiculous.
And everyone hates you.

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Rei ROCKS!

Hey fellow accursed readers, introducing my band's keyboardist, REI! She's our band's Nordic heroine! Hail her, not The Beast will hurl into his firey caludron and make stew!

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Random feelings

Sheesh, it's been a month since the raw carnage of Slipknot! But it only seemed like yesterday, all the visual madness and the heart-thumping experiences. Sheesh. Time flies. I think now my life is separated into two different portions, before Slipknot gig and after the gig. Serious, I have realised that a new person is merged after witnessing a Slipknot's gig. That new person is transformed, driven by an unseen force and who really don't give a fuck to the shit of this world anymore and somehow attaining a new level of clarity and purpose in life. Woot. What a change! I'm a testimonial to it.

And, I really hope that The Knot will come again as promised by Corey. I so want to relish that ground-breaking experience once again.

Anyhow, on a saner side. I really pity those people who are forced to stay back every fucking day to revise their work. Pity.

School, to me, is like the shittest place on earth where the most pricks and fucks exist. To name a few, pricks who likes Project Superstar and become totally fanatic about it, fucking wannabes/emos/wannabe-goth/wannabe-cool, people who speaks chinese, people who are just I-Don't-Like-Them. Reasons can be endless, and I don't want to list them here because it's even an offence to voice out my own views. Sheesh.

School has this mystifying effect of making me feel damn controlled, imposed, fucked up, and most of all, STUPID. And, I don't like that feeling. Enough said. School, after much discussions, still sucked. HAHA.

Oh yes, Family Guy rocks! HAHA. Watch it!

Here is one line or rather two lines that I enjoyed alot;
'OMG! Mom, I think I have a moustache!' the daughter shrieked in exclaimation.
'Nah! It just makes you look more distinguished.' said the mother.

Like what the eternal hell???

HAHA. Briliant show.

Song that I'm listening right now: Eeyore - Slipknot ( Do you want something heavier?! - Corey)

\m/

In Darkness and the Great Beast, we trust.

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I've probably turned down my only chance at marriage. Oh well.

I signed up for an LDS Linkup account a few months ago, mostly so I could keep in touch w/friends and ward members and stuff while I'm gone this year. I most specifically did not sign up for the "Find a Date/Fine a Match" option.

And yet, yesterday I received an email from LDS Linkup, sent by a 40-yr-old man from The Netherlands, who is apparently looking for true and eternal love. The message read "How are u doing?" He did not include a photo on his profile.

This immediately caused violent flashbacks to my three-month trial membership to LDSSO a few years ago, where the only people who wrote me were 40+ men. They were usually shirtless in their photos, and they were usually from Europe or Latin America.

And here's the thing. There is no shortage of intelligent and attractive women in their 30s and 40s on these singles sites. They're everywhere, and lots of them seem worth getting to know. So it's not like the 48-yr-old from Chile's only options are the 22-yr-olds from Provo.

To my Netherlands Love, I responded with this email:

"Thank you for your message, but I am not interested in "Meeting a Match" right now. Have a good day."

What I wanted to write, and what I should have written back in my LDSSO days (I was more of a shrinking violet then, you see) was this:

Dear Applicant,

I am very confused as to why I received a message from you. Did you not notice that I am only 22 years old? Did you also not notice that I have set my age limit at 30? And did you furthermore not notice that, at 46, you are well above the limit, and that if I took the difference between the limit and you I would have myself an entire other person who can legally drive?

I'm curious as to what you think we could possibly have in common (aside from the fact that you and my dad are the same age). It is unlikely that we have had similar life experiences. Our interests and hobbies are not the same. Not only are we from completely different generations, but from dissimilar cultural backgrounds, which would be a hindrance to any relationship, much less a relationship with a woman so much younger than yourself. There are many women on this site who would be more suited to you in terms of age, background, and interests. I'm unclear as to why you chose to contact me instead of these women.

The only thing I can think of is that you want to have lots of sex with a blonde American virgin who is young enough to be your daughter. This way, she can get you into the U.S. and have lots and lots of your babies, but will be too young and stupid to know what a raw deal she's getting.

Grow up, skeeze.

Sincerely,

Not Interested

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I'm not an Emo! Yeah!

I am 13% Emo.

Okay... so you're not emo at all.. you're probably not even goth, because goths are just messed up emo kids... you're probably a metal head(Hell yeah!) or into boy bands (NO for this!)

Make more tests at: If you are serious bored.

Anyhow, this is diagrammatic figure of how a fucked up emo is liked. I like the tears part. haha.

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I shouldn't be admitting this, but . . .

. . . I check the weather for the town I'm going to be living in soon, to see if the whole beastly English weather thing is still true. And it pretty much is. I see clouds, I see rain, I see fog, I see not-incredibly-warm temperatures.

But then I go check out the soon-to-be home of dear sweet Streets.

Then I feel tons better.

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I hate meetings more than I hate a slap on the tush

Because at least if someone grabs my bum I can charge them with battery, assault, sexual harassment, and any other thing that applies. And I can get them fired and publish all about what a depraved sexual deviant they are (and since it's true it's not slander or libel). Also I can slap them hard on the face or punch them in the windpipe, but will possibly check into the legality of that since I don't want to deal with a counter suit.

With meetings, however, I can't do any of these things. I have no recourse. I just have to sit there and pretend that I don't actually feel my life force being drained from my slumped-over body. Also, let's clear something up: I am in no way talking about specific meetings that happened in my own office this very morning, so don't think that I am! I'm more talking about meetings in general--in the nebulous, "Hey, haven't you ever noticed this about meetings, whether they be to do with church or employment or volunteering or civic activities or family councils or support groups for people who kill those who force them to attend unnecessary meetings." You know, general stuff.

What kills me is how some people seem to love them. I mean yeah, some meetings are good and productive and short and have food, but most are the opposite of this. Maybe the people in charge love that they get to call the meetings. They act like they're throwing some kind of party with free pony rides. And you're supposed to get all excited and dance around at the prospect of such a fun fun time. But half the time I have absolutely no interest in the meeting, I have nothing to add to the meeting, and I would much rather stay at my desk surfing the Internet or maybe even doing the odd spot of work.

But to say that you'll pass on the meeting is like saying that you're skipping some WWII veteran's 100th birthday. "But it's a meeting! And you've been invited! How could you not want to come listen to people bluster about things for two hours?" Yeah well, I don't go to every party I get invited to, Skippy. But the guilt starts, and so I go, and then the people in charge decide that the 5 empty chairs in the room are some kind of silent affront to whoever is holding the meeting, so they go and grab five other people who have nothing to do with the meeting and make them come sit in the chairs with us. Because a meeting is valuable if it's keeping lots of people from doing their jobs.

By this, I mean people who really work, as opposed to people who do what I do.

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This is the best job EVER.

And no, I'm not talking about the job that I've been doing for the past two years. Sorry.

I'm talking about the job that, with any luck, I'll be able to do part-time this fall, product-testing new courses. Because I have some . . . how you say . . . down time right now, my boss asked if I could do some product-testing to help with a backlog they're having right now. And I'm happy to do it because it's actually interesting and engages my mind somewhat. Otherwise I end up smacking at my keyboard in the manner of a bored and slower-than-average chimpanzee, that's how checked out I am.

But now I'm reading this cool course on business law, and it's so much fun. I'm reading all about forgery and larceny and assault and battery and self defense and who to charge with what crime when. It's like free crack for the litigation addict! I'm always running around trying to think of what my friends can sue other people for. And no, I'm not talking about frivolous lawsuits. I'm talking about jerks who need to Get What's Coming to Them.

I try to be careful with this, though, because now I actually know some real lawyers. I don't want them to give me a look that means, "You're stupid, and watching Law & Order doesn't make you a lawyer, and you need to stop talking." But let me say that I only watch Law & Order when I'm at home because my dad becomes instantly glued to the TV whenever he finds out that it's on (which is pretty much every hour of the day). He even watched it when he was on vacation in Hawaii. And all of a sudden he'll growl, "Get 'em, Jack!" during the courtroom scenes.

Anyway, back to the point. Everyone else has a little image that shows up next to their name, so I want one too. Any suggestions that don't violate copyright law?

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So, I went flying. I am one who flies.

Happy Birthday to ME!

I would have to say that a highlight of the birthday celebrations (bwah! highlight!!!) was the plane ride. A friend of mine has a pilot’s license, so he flew down from Rexburg with some other guys for Labor Day. Since it was my birthday and therefore the world must and does revolve around me, he took me flying.

Now, it’s not that I’ve never flown before. I’ve actually achieved Silver Medallion status because of the many thousands and thousands of miles I’ve spent wedged into dander-infested airline upholstery, breathing other people’s recycled air and watching (or not, as the case may be) quality films like Legally Blonde 2. I had to put a massage therapist on retainer to get the airline abuse out of my neck—and then had to stop using her, not because she was a lesbian and kept telling me about the times when she used to be LDS and did things like go on a mission, but because she raised her prices, so I can’t afford her any more. I’ve even (sit down for this) been upgraded to first class a couple of times, where I tried to remember my roots by smiling kindly at the people being herded past my nice leather seat on their way back to coach. But I probably just glared at them, since they were the unwashed rabble preventing my own personal flight attendant from getting me my orange juice and warm towels the second I requested them. It’s sick what power does to you.

Anyway, point. While I have most certainly been in many forms of aircraft, up to and including military cargo planes (don’t ask), I had never before been in one of those cool small private planes with the propeller and everything. But now I have! The weather was clear and gorgeous, and we flew up through Provo Canyon and over Deer Creek before turning around and heading back. I saw my apartment and the fall leaves and the back of Mt. Timpanogos, with its, ahem, “glacier.” I took pictures so that I could capture the beauty and wonder of the moment, but also so that I could brag. I almost got to use the controls, but it got kind of bumpy, so Flyboy decided that wasn’t a good idea. And I could accept that, because I didn’t want to actually crash an airplane on my birthday and become some tragic John Denver-type figure.

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Oh yeah!

Hey fellow maggots of Singapore, check this link out!

Click here. =)

Stay (sic)!

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Thank you to everybody!

Sorry, but this isn't a real post. I'm just writing to say that 1) You can expect a nice juicy post with pictures later tonight, 2) I have not ended my life in some panic-induced huffing overdose, and 3) I had a wonderful birthday!

Thanks so much to everyone who called and emailed and visited and fed me and sang and sent good vibes and took me out and showed up at my door wearing nothing but a grin (Ioan, you naughty . . . ). And thanks to the federal government for scheduling a holiday just for me. The time off was much appreciated.

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Infernal Saint The Prototype logo.

Rei has diabolically created this kickass logo, and I made it even more kickass by merely inverting it. Hehe. Of course, the white-based is the prequel. The black-based one is the final one. And moments later, I have made it even more kickarse, but putting 'Draconian Offsprings Spawned' onto it. Haha. This shows how boring can holidays be.

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Effing Gay !

Muahaha! This is cool!

Kill the damn frog!

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Withdrawal symptoms?

I have no idea why I suddenly felt high once again. That kind of high sensation I got at the Slipknot's gig.

The wounds will prevail. The scars of it is uncurable, no medicine can heal it.

I found this review, so decided to post it up to feed my withdrawal symptoms.

Here:

Set List
PRELUDE 3.0
THE BLISTER EXISTS
(sic)
DISASTERPIECE
BEFORE I FORGET
LEFT BEHIND
EYELESS
VERMILLION
PULSE OF THE MAGGOTS
EEYORE
EVERYTHING ENDS
HERETIC ANTHEM
DUALITY
PURITY
SPIT IT OUT
PEOPLE=SHIT
WAIT AND BLEED
SURFACING
DANGER KEEP AWAY

August 16th 2005 Slipknot Vol: 3 Subliminal Verses World Tour
Fort Canning Green, Singapore

Both my sister and I attended a Slipknot concert on Aug 16th 2005. I started queuing as early as 9.30am, crazy-yes, who knows when the next concert will be. I got some help from a friend to queue for me whilst I went home to change and came back at 2pm with my sis. The weather was hot and humid! My sister who waited inside got to meet Jim and have our tickets signed. The actual crowd didn't form up till about 5.30pm or so. By that time Slipknot had already went in to the stage area for their sound check. They arrived in 2 separate vans that caused quite a commotion for some over hyped maggots. We got treated to the insanely intense sounds of Eyeless and Purity coming out from the arena. The gates were supposed to open at 6.30pm but we were allowed in earlier, one by one though. Each of us had to be tagged according to our tickets. My sis was the first one in. She was so excited, she tripped and rolled over the floor and was cover in grass and dirt from head to toe, bruised her arm pretty bad too.

We were totally pumped up because we bought the VIP cage tickets a.k.a. mosh pits and the stage was 5 feet away. We stood ourselves right in front where we thought Corey would be. Sid with his huge black shades on came up the stage and stood behind the amps and equipments. The crowd recognizes him and began chanting, "SID! SID! SID!" and "STARSCREAM"!! He then got out his DVD cam and shot towards the crowd who then went wild. Although Jim was barely visible, seeing parts of him got another round of "JIM! JIM! JIM" from the crowd. He was nice enough to wave before leaving. Even Shawn from Stone Sour was there acknowledged the crowd. Thankfully there were no opening bands cause the crowd would've 'kill them off'. The only ones we wanted to see were Slipknot. We've waited hours, days, weeks, months and years. We couldn't wait any longer.
It wasn't even 8.30 when the lights dimmed and Prelude came on…I'm like, what the….the crowd just went wild! There was a tiny glitch so Prelude started again. The maggots were raring to burgeon on the subliminal mayhem that is Slipknot. Even as the smoke rise up, blanketed the stage, even as the fans sang each word, all eyes were peeled on the stage. As Prelude played on, the members came on Joey stood up..Mick was checking the crowd through his slits, so was Clown. It was awesome to have him back!!!!

Once The Blister Exists kicked in, those at the front, including myself were pushed forward, pressed against the metal barricade and the chain of impetuous moshing and head banging began. At times, you couldn't even breathe. All the way through the nihilistic 17-song set, there were no gimmicks, Slipknot stayed focused on the music and nothing else. Even with a series of clinical, un-maggot like and illogical rules that were administered by the local authorities, every song generated a massive response and each 'Knot member played a rock-solid performance. They're pure musicians and great performers.

Corey spoke after a few songs and said "They said it would never happen, we would never cross the border and now here we are." It was awesome to hear him said " to play for our fans no matter what it takes". "Singapore is just like any other country we played, just a little more strict. We have played before in countries with strict rules and we came to have a good time with our kids (fans).' Great to see a band that doesn't cower from local authorities to fulfill their fans wish.

Spit It Out went well and the highlight was when they played Purity which something they haven't done in a long time. Corey asked how many have Iowa and that he wants to see it in our eyes when singing. Guess he wanted to check how many knew the words and knew the words they crowd did! Sid came on down during Vermillion and walked past closely to check the crowd out. He was his usual hyper, manic self. I'm not sure if he even dive into crowds anymore though he did tantalize the crowd by standing at the edge of the stage like he was about to jump off especially when he adjusted his pants like "ok, get ready, here I come.." kind of gesture. He paid his dues by making the sets his home ground! It was awesome!

Clown was back in full action! Both Chris and he did incredible on the percussions. Joey was a killer on the drums-it was insane! Jim and Mick, man, they did a full on assault with their guitars. What's awesome was that we could hear Craig's samples! He ruled!! Paul has a new, cool looking Ibanez bass, which we could feel thumping. I thought his death mask that day was awesome! Craig had a hood over his death mask.

The sound system augmented every brutally beautiful note from each 'Knot member. The concert was chaotic but in a very good order, Slipknot reign it back and didn't let things get way out of hand-that's being smart unlike some egotistical pricks. At the end of the concert, Corey took time to thank the fans; he knelt down and bowed to the crowd 3 times! That's some serious shit. Us maggots were taken aback and let Corey know how much we appreciate Slipknot coming here. Corey said Slipknot would be back, so that's good.

While music is and always a priority, Slipknot proved its shows are both visual and musical experiences. Even as I write this review, 2 weeks later on I still get goose bumps thinking about it. I'm still reeling over the unbelievable realization that I have witness and was a part of the most powerful, ass-kicking, awe-inspiring and cathartic musical experience of my life. I know that the only way I'll come close to it again is at another Slipknot show.

- Courtesy of ProstheticScream of SOFT.com.sg. Thanks! Good review!

Stay (sic) and may the \m/ be with you.

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Great writeup of Cradle of Filth by Real.

Black Metal history's earliest, most monumental moments were fraught with exaggerated claims and overt acts of evil that found bands' unceasing attempts to top each other with examples of hatred and misanthropy. While the claims were (for the most part) merely pretense, many bands turned the spectacle into a more overt form of theater. The most realized band in that realm is Cradle of Filth. A cunning sense of dark drama and spectacle looms over their music like gargoyles that keep watch over a castle; but just as imaginary as the gargoyle, Cradle of Filth's claims toward evil are poetic, not actual, though as many Christianity advocates have vehemently claimed of this ungodly band, there is perhaps no division between the two. But to dwell on Cradle of Filth's pomp is merely an overture to the reality of their sound -- patently evil. Not the sort of evil you learned in Sunday school, but the evil that is eked out of dusty books and reveals some form of ancient, forbidden knowledge. Their albums are elaborate, rococo orchestrations that are closer in construction to a Wagnerian opera than a rock song. Symphonies of guitars, heavy organ chords and female vocals play off of wickedly complex percussion. The most unmistakable element of Filth's sound is Dani Filth's vocal acrobatics. He screams piercing notes that find harmony with your night sweat's shivers, then drops to a dark, purgatorial growl. His lyrics dwell on typically gothic subjects: death, eternity, sex, blood and suffering. Their album Cruelty and the Beast is entirely based on the legend of the Countess Elizabeth Bathory -- cliche perhaps, but Cradle of Filth always create with an intelligence and self-awareness that reveals a great art.

I so agree with this writeup. Hail Cradle of Filth! \m/

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Cruelty and The Beast review.

Let's see individual tracks one by one.

Once upon Atrocity - Although just a short instrumental piece, I can sense the evilness surging up already.

Thirteen Autumns and a Widow - 4.5/5. I could feel the despair and the libertine in Eilzabeth and her relationship with her husband. Impressive lyrics belted out by the Man, Dani Filth. The atmosphere is well instilled.

Cruelty Brought thee Orchids - 1000/5. One thumping stone cold classic. You could almost smell the blood and witness the onslaught of torture meted out by the Countess. Madness at its peak. Enough said.

Beneath the Howling Stars - 5/5. All about the decadence of Elizabeth and her desparation. Rather good!

Venus in Fear - 20/5. Loads of nymphs screaming their lungs out as if in extreme pain, makes you shiver in your spine, resulting in you beginning to feel the actual harm done to the virgins by Elizabeth. Chilly instrumental piece.

Desire in Violent Overture - 5/5. About the desire of Elizabeth and the overall damage done. You could feel the triumph of evil and the felons. Nice track.

The Twisted nails of Faith - 10/5. The vainity of this abomindable wanton and her twisted thoughts. Twisted. Sick.

Bathory Aria - 50/5. 3 songs merged into one deliciously foul track. You have got to listen to experience the breathlessness after the song.

Portrait of the Dead Countess - 10/5. The Countess is dead! Loads of despair and decadence, sorrow and melcanholy.

Lustmord and Wargasm (The Lick of Carnivorous Winds) - 30/5. Recallation of the sins of Elizabeth. One impressive track!

---

Anyhow. Check this out, http://ruthlessreviews.com/top10/10blackmetal.html.

Hahaha.

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Commence panic in 3 . . . 2 . . . 1

It’s here. It’s started.

I was able to stave off the panic until now. Only I didn’t plan very well, because with all of the “Hey, I don’t need to worry about that till next month” and the “I don’t need to get nervous until September” and “September 1st—that’s when I’ll start to worry,” I practically scheduled this stinking breakdown.

My fears are many, and varied. Let’s go through some of them, shall we? That way I can see the full scope of the thing and will end this post huddled in a ball under my desk, weeping.

The Getting Ready to Leave Fears
I won’t get to spend enough quality time with friends and family before I leave.
I won’t get to spend enough quality time with my precious niece Savannah before I leave, so my plan of making absolutely sure she remembers me a year from now will fail.
I will forget to tie up at least 12 loose ends.
I won’t be able to sell my car.
I will pack too much.
I will pack too little.
My roommates will get tired of me crashing on the couch, so they will turn me out. I won’t be able to stay at Savvymom’s on account of the hobo spiders, so I will probably have to sleep in my car for 3 weeks, which will result in back problems, only I won't have the money to see a chiropracter or massage therapist.

The Getting There Fears
I will miss my flights.
I will lose my luggage.
They will show crap movies on the plane, like “Dukes of Hazzard” or "The 40-Year Old Virgin."
My flight will crash over the Atlantic Ocean, and instead of dying on impact I’ll probably survive long enough to be eaten by sharks.
I won’t sleep on the airplane and will then fall asleep on the floor of the Heathrow terminal during the 3 hour wait for my shuttle and so I will miss the shuttle and have to stay in a hostel with druggies and rats.

The Being There Fears
My classes will be too hard.
Everyone will hate me.
My new ward will make me be the Primary chorister, and those kids will eat me alive.
My skin and hair will freak out and turn me into some sort of zit-faced Medusa.
My landlord will be an axe murderer who comes into my room and sits in a chair by my bed and watches me with glowing red eyes while I sleep.
I will wither away and die from cell phone withdrawal.
I’ll spend all my time blogging and will therefore fail all my classes.
I will never get an idea for a thesis, and the department will tell me to just go home, because they clearly made a mistake.
I will turn out to hate library science and libraries. And books. Maybe I'll hate them too, all of a sudden.
I will get crushingly homesick and will cry every night into my pillow.
I won’t get homesick, and won’t stay in touch with friends or family, so that when I come home they will all spit on the ground when they see me coming and will refuse to speak to me.
I won’t meet, fall in love with, and marry a handsome Brit, which means there's a life-long dream shot to pieces.
I will meet, fall in love with, and marry a handsome Brit, which will be a very stressful thing to deal with and plan. I mean, clearly it’s cheapest to do the thing in the US, but think of the pictures you could get in the UK! I don't even know what I'll do about that.

The What To Do When the Year is Over Fears
I’m putting this one off until August 1st 2006. Check back with me then, because I'll be huddled in a ball under an English desk, weeping.

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Project Superstar = Crap.

Argh! I can't take it anymore!

Project Superstar equals to shit and crap!!!

They are deliberating wasting airplay time and our recreation choices, by hogging up 4 hours. When the show started, those people up there seemed to me like lumps of abominable shit babbling Blah Blah blah...

They are all pricks who can't sing can't dance, simply cannot entertain.

I have no idea why some people are so fanatic to be about when you have like fantastic bands like Cradle of Filth, Dimmu Borgir, HIM or Slipknot to idolize over. They are leaps and bounds better both in skills and the so-called X Factor. Sigh... Wasting your youth and energy away at such places. I pity you. Just accept it. Think about it after they sang, there's no vibe, no energy, no passion, no awe-inducing sensations, no sense of anything but a sensation of you just wanting to follow the crowd and shriek out in immature voices, "We support you to our deaths.'' in a similarly immature manner.

Gosh. You - ChinesePop so-called fans, are blinded and seriously restricted and narrow-minded. Open up, accept other choices of music, open up your damn heart and try metal music for once! Stop saying that Metal Sucks when you have not even tried once in your entire fucking life. Ignorant fools.

I can sense it, you are just wanting to follow the crowd which usually is on the dumb side, and trying to feel good and trying to be popular. Forget it, you will get nowhere by doing these. Just reflect, how long those those boybands and pop singers last? At most, I'll give them 1 year then they shall vanquish like vapour.

On the other hand, metal bands survived the rugged and mostly stupid and ignorant society. Cradle of Filth survived 11 years. Black Sabbath survived around 20 years, and they are still headlining Ozzfest.

Oh, please, for the sake of yourself and my sanity, grow up. All has been said.

Open up your hearts, stop stereotyping and acting foolish.
Shut up and listen.
Stop babbling in resistance, it is definitely futile.
Open your eyes, expose yourself to new heights. Or rot in the prick-infested wells.
Open your ears with an opened heart. And find yourself memerized for the first time in your life, in the briliant world of Metal. All the past ''hates'' have dissolved. With metal, then will you feel ALIVE, truly Alive.

It's all up to you now. Choose or die.

Call me an Anti or anything. This is me. :)

\m/ May The Beast bless you or destruct you into his diabolical abyss. \m/

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