Boredom brought thee blogging.

As you all know already, it's the chinese new year, and it's been boring visiting those damned relatives and all, being pretentious and faking a smile for them. So, I won't delve deeper into that and save you from falling asleep in front of the new age square box.

Just to mention, my ang pow haul is pathetic. It has hit the lowest record ever. Hmm, the economy picking up eh? I wonder... There must be great sales at the Posh Toilet accessory store that sells only golden tubs and taps.

Laments aside, I have been hooked to the brilliant song of Cradle of Filth, Tortured Soul Asylum. And the beginning of the song goes like this:

"Oh, sweet Midian
I burn for thee at heart
Don't despair
Come bare me on wings of graveyard robbed leather
To where pleasure rings deep secrets
In spurts after dark..."

I found myself reciting the above chunk of phrases in utmost passion before plunging my head into a series of headbanging motions and grinning at the line diabolically spitted by Dani Filth, that goes; 'Whilst I watched without revolt. Carnalities few beasts permit.'

And, also Cradle of filth related, the official fan club is launching soon, it's also known as The Order of The Dragon. On the unfortunate downside of the eurphoric news of it, it requires an annoying thing called Paypal. Screw it. Any kind souls who could help me? I must join that legion. I am, afterall, The Cradle of Filth W****. =D

Cradle-praises aside, I have work tomorrow. [switches myself to performing mode once again]

And, people out there, especially people from secondary schools, remember to search for my name and my face in next monday's issue of Straits Times IN section. =P

In addition, I do not know that one cousin of mine learns german! Whoo! I went totally ecstatic when she said, 'I learnt german for 4 years in uni.' Great, great! Now I can clear my doubts with her. =D

And, not to forget, I must get 2 books, namely 'Venus in Furs' and 'The Story of O'. Both are masochistic tales not to be missed. [reminds herself to hunt for them at Kinokuniya or Borders] I will be so enjoying reading them.

Literal indigestion,
Ling.
31st January 2006 AD.

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Happy Chinese New Year!

In honor of the occasion a few of us went to The Noodle Bar tonight for a Chinese feast. It's this great cheap little place near WR's house, and we had a great time eating and talking and laughing louder than is ladylike. We invited some Chinese friends to come, but they were busy living it up with their own parties. So they can just be that way, then! I ordered some pork dumplings even though Saturday night was the night for dumplings. Better late than never, I guess. Also I think we should make our New Year last fifteen days too. How great would that be?

Sorry I've been AWOL, I promise I'll do better. I have a whole list of things to write about though which will shock and appall you and make your hair curl and cause you to write letters to your local paper and possibly get together a vigilante force and all that good stuff.





By the way, I recommend #43: Fried Singapore Ho Fun

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Chinese New Year!

Its only a couple of hours until we usher in the (in)auspicious year of the Dog. And I am terribly bored, being confined at home because of the arcane concept of a reunion dinner that sounds rather absurd to people like me.

So here I am, lazing on my bed, with a laptop and my steady source of Cradle of Filth blaring out of the speakers as my source of entertainment for this period of unbearable time.

Reader-fiends, if you are wondering how to go about killing time tomorrow whilst relative-visiting, this might help you a nifty.

For metalheads:

1. Plug on to your earphones with metal blaring and headbang to your hearts' content.
2. If you happen to be a black metaller, think all things necro and grim.
3. If you happen to be a power metal freak, think epic and Manowar.
4. Black metallers again, think of the coldness of your soul and recite 'In the mountains of madness! Unending grimness, this kingdom is mine!'
5. Air guitaring and air drumming work well too.
6. Headbang more.
7. Point \m/ everywhere you go.
8. Instead of saying 'Gong xi fuck cai', say 'Hails!'
9. Bring 6 oranges.
10. If your parents forced you not to wear black, then listen to them. It's the ang pow money that matters now.

For Magicians and flourishers:

1. Do Healed and Sealed Coda can effect.
   
2. Do not allow your irritating cousins to use your cards in Tai Di/Poker/21 points/anything game at all.
   
3. Elmsely count the ang pows, so you can always say 'One is missing! You haven't give!'
4. Palm the chocolate coins.
5. Flourish all the way.
6. Produce red spongeballs from the ang pows. (Little red balls. :P)
7. I am still thinking...
8. Flourish is still the best way to kill time.
9. Cheat the young.
10. Test your pickpocketing skills.
    

I guess with all these 20 handy tips, you *hopefully* can survive the ever-monotonous Chinese New Year and remain sane.

[off to eat more chinese new year goodies and listen to more metal]

Auf Wiedersehen!

In the festive mood,
Ling.
28th January 2006 AD.

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Flourishing Pyramid.

This is a cool chart!

[off to practise harder to attain the next level.]

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Snapshots of my pasteboards...

Today saw the photoshoot of the upcoming magic/flourish article at SPH. Cool place, the Straits Times office is seriously awesome. But the so-called ''studio'' isn't very impressive, it;s just a corner of a room with white background and some strong lights. [white background, thinks of Bucks immediately.]

Anyhow, enough of describing the place, let's see what I did for the article.

• Thumb fan(s). And Daren's way of presenting them. Bone's kind of thumb fans.
• One handed fan. [If Justin were there, ownage it will be with his Very Big Smear Fans.]
• Filpback Fans. [The photographer dropped her jaws at this one. =P]
• My Inverted Crucifix. [Subliminal propaganda of the Beast. =D]
• My Exodus display.
  
• 6 Step display [Credit: Justin]
• Damn Straight. [Credit: Kevin Ho]
• The Werm. [Credit: Dan and Dave Buck]
• Spring.
  
• Very medicore Anacoda. [Credit: Bone]

Think that's about it. Dang, I regretted not doing the king cobra and my whirlpool. [hopes The Virts will do King Cobra.] Nevermind that, next time =D.

And, fellow magicians and flourishers alike, grab that IN thing in Straits Times on 6th Febuary! Laminate that article and set up a shrine. =D Haha. Kidding...

Yay. Meeting up with Integral people and my Voldemort tomorrow. I'm more delighted about the latter option though.

Qouted from Voldemort: Tomorrow -- Buying stuff + roasted marshmellows + my Wormtail = Very Good. =) I am glad to be of your service, Voldemort. [I know you would give me a pat or hug as a return of my servility.]

And, the Rammstein fever has not exhibited any sign of subsiding yet. Which is a good omen. I've noticed a pattern or trend in german finally. Thus, hoping learning would be easy from now on.

And, bored as usual stuck at home, I ended up taking photos of my cards. Here's one of the stack of it:
















Alright, that's about it.

Til next time, Auf Wiedersehen.

Yours faithfully (to Voldemort only),
Ling.
26th January 2006 AD.

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Fun times in Leicester

So last week I spent an afternoon in Leicester so that I could obey Savvydad's counsel to "Take every opportunity to enjoy yourself." He's still sore because I didn't make it to Paris over New Year's. Mmmm, Paris.

Anyway.

It was a gorgeous sunny day and I didn't have any classes, so I decided to go prowl around. Leicester is a 30 minute drive south of me, but only a 10 minute train ride. Seeing as how I don't have a car but DO have a train, I went with the second option. And it turns out that Leicester is a fun kind of a place. I'm usually only there at night (um, that may sound wrong but it's not), and then I'm On The Street Where WR Lives. Unfortunately, all the drug dealers and yellers live on his street too, which kind of gives me a skewed impression of the place.


Here are some quick facts about Leicester:

Leicester is Britain's most ethnically diverse city with 43% nonwhite residents, (mostly from India and Pakistan).

It has the longest-running covered market in England--700 years and still going.

It has Roman and Norman ruins.

It has pretty canals with swans, and then some not-as-pretty canals with trash.

It has H&M, which was having a sale and sold me a blue softy-feeling sweater and a dark pink (for when I only want to look slightly vulnerable) V-neck top.

First place I hit was the Leicester Market, and Oh My Gosh it was huge. There were so many things to look at. They had clothes, jewelry, sheets, lamps, makeup, electronics, everything. And there were miles of produce. You could buy pretty much any fruit or vegetable you could think of. Plus they had things arranged so prettily and everything was so clean and fresh that I found myself wanting to cook and eat things like brussel sprouts and new potatoes because they were Just So Pretty sitting next to each other.

One of the cool things were the "pound bowls" where you could pick any bowl (full of fruit or veggies or a mixture, like the "salad bowls") for £1. The picture gives you an idea of what I mean. I forgot to take my camera with me, so these are all from the Internet.

There were also flower stands with gorgeous cheap bunches of flowers and small potted plants with spring bulbs, and I really wanted to buy myself some but figured they would get trashed as I carried them around, so I didn't.

I was, however, seduced by the piles of mangos I saw everywhere--3 for £1. So I bought three and the nice man who sold them chatted w/me and asked what brought me to Leicester. I ate one as soon as I got to WR's place that night and it was perfect--all three of them were. Then I went to Sainsbury's the next day and saw them selling mangoes at £1.78 each and I did the victory dance of "Hah! Three for a POUND, baby!!" right there in the store.

Then I went to Lush. And I saw that it was good. I've been wanting to go for the past month, ever since I got the Soft Touch body butter as a Christmas gift. WR's sister's B-day party was that night, so I volunteered to go in and find her a present, because I am a selfless, selfless person. I picked the Honey Farm gift set, only the box smelled so good that I kept sniffing at it during the day and wanted to keep it. For myself I bought a block of The Blonde solid shampoo and got a bottle of Coolaulin conditioner for free because I spent £15. (The UK site won't let me link you directly to the products, so I'm taking you to the US site, which is better, even though I'm passing out in my chair from the prices, which are about 3x what they are here. I guess I'd better stock up now!)

Other highlights:

Meeting up with WR for a pub lunch

Wandering around looking at the old pretty buildings

Enjoying the sunshine even if it was freezing cold

Finding a Baskin Robbins in one of the shopping malls, which renewed my faith in the English people, even if it was too cold to actually be eating ice cream just then.

Saved £17.50 when a gorgeous dress that made me look absolutely hot turned out not to be on sale like its neighbors were. I maybe would have bought it at £17.50, but not at £35. It really was so very pretty though . . . sigh.

Anyway, yes. Leicester and I are friends now, and there is much to see and do and buy there.

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So I'm officially it now, I think

After being tagged 3 times, I'd better just go ahead and do the thing.

Four jobs you have had in your life:

Sandwich Artist at Subway--and I was an artist, because it said so on my shirt
Custodian @ BYU--because cleaning urinals at 4am makes you more righteous
Student Editor/Proofreader--because it's a good day when you get paid to point out other people's mistakes!
Travelling Sales Rep--because I thought it might be fun to have my soul (and will to live) drained slowly from my body for a coupla years

Four movies you could watch over and over:

BBC Pride & Prejudice--"And your parents are in good health?"
Ocean's Eleven--"Been practicing that speech?"
Horatio Hornblower--"[something something about setting one's manly jaw and doing one's duty For England]"
Cold Comfort Farm--There'll be no butter in hell!"

Four places you've lived:

Bitburg, Germany
London, England
Eagle River, Alaska
Provo, Utah

Four TV shows you love to watch:

House
Friends
Lost (when it isn't being stupid)
Pretentious British stuff like Masterpiece Theatre

Places you've been on vacation:

Smoky Mountains National Park
Paris
The Isle of Capri
Cedar City, UT

Four of your favorite foods:

Cheese, all kinds
Chocolate, all kinds
Pasta, all kinds
Thai food

Four places you'd rather be right now:

On a tropical beach, sipping pina coladas and not burning my pasty white skin off
On a Mediterranean cruise, sipping pina coladas and not burning my pasty white skin off
In Paris, wandering down by the Seine while eating a crepe filled with Nutella, banana, and coconut
In bed with my down comforter (Oh wait! Hah! I totally am!!!)

Four sites I visit daily:

My blog friends
IMDB
Google
Dollars2Pounds, because I am a freak who checks the conversion rate daily

Four Bloggers I am tagging:

Savvymom
Spitfire
Uncle Dave
CBH

These are my brothers and sisters, but only Savvymom updates her blog regularly, and she has a new baby right now. So this is probably a futile exercise.

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Flourishing.

I officially declare flourishing the best hobby on earth. Final statement. =D

The unseen plight of singaporean flourishers are finally revealed. The future for flourishes are as bright as a new OSRAM light bulb. =D

Flourishing is the way to go, as said by Justin.

[back to flourishing as there's more motivation now.]

Flourishing,
Ling.
24th January 2006 AD.

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Yes, to me Sainsbury's grocery store is better than the mall. So?

WR and I did some grocery shopping on Saturday. Because I forgot my purse, he bought all the stuff and then gave me the receipt. When I started looking it over, I got a kick out of the differences in what we bought. See if you can decide which list is which.

List #1

£0.87 Cottage cheese

£0.64 Skim milk

£0.44 Canned soup

£1.39 Jar of pesto

£0.97 Green & orange bell peppers

£0.47 Bananas

£0.54 Granny Smith apples

£0.95 Cereal

£1.43 Mature cheddar cheese

£1.99 Strawberries on sale

£1.48 Cadbury chocolate trifle 3-pack

£2.69 Sainsbury's "Taste the Difference" pizza with mushrooms and mascarpone cheese on a focaccia crust

List #2:

£1.68 Two packages Butcher’s Choice sausages

£1.05 Sausage rolls

£0.87 Tuna Pasta Bake frozen meal

£0.87 Pasta & Meatballs frozen meal

£0.87 Tomato & Bacon Pasta frozen meal

£1.15 Cereal

£1.16 Skim milk

£0.34 Two cans sweetcorn

£0.28 Two cans carrot slices

£0.98 Two cans apple & pear cubes

£0.35 Ketchup

£6.99 Frozen chicken fillets

£0.69 Frozen Mixed Vegetables, which would make his mum so proud

So list #1 was mine--could it be more girly? I guess I could have added sanitary products or Midol for good measure, but really. Also I need to explain a few items because I sort of let myself go this time. The pesto was an indulgence because I was feeling Jamie Oliverish and had visions of fusilli pasta with creamy pesto sauce like they make at the Noodle Factory in Orem. I topped mine with fresh mushrooms, green & orange peppers, and grated white cheddar. Friends, it was good. The Cadbury trifles were for the kids (the kids being me, Landlady J, and me—WR didn’t want his once he saw me eyeing it like a slavering wolf).

I think that WR's list is so completely the list of a bachelor. All the sausage rolls were gone in 2 days, by the way. While in the grocery store, WR is a Man with a Mission. There is no browsing or staring at eclairs, although he will push the cart a bit slower while I stop and stare at eclairs. His system involves going up and down every single aisle, including the liquor aisle and the baby goods aisle. It's not that he needs Absolut Vodka or diapers, because I'm pretty sure he doesn't, but that's The System, by gum.

I become somewhat Attention Deficit in the grocery store. (The only clear focus I have is the need to not spend money, which is problematic in a place that sells fuel which is needed by the body to sustain life.) I skip the aisles I don’t need (like the cookie aisle) so that I can save time and avoid temptation, but then I always forget things like bread or eggs and have to go back to find them. Plus I tend to browse around because there's just so much to look at--visit the cheese section and you will understand. I like to stand in front of the nice posh things and imagine what my life would be like if I actually bought said things—like mortars & pestles and sea salt and profiteroles and all that Jamie Oliver stuff they have in stock.

And in the interest of cultural understanding and growth, there are issues that need pondering, like the following:

(1) Half an aisle is devoted to canned baked beans, which people will be eating on toast, or possibly with sausage on toast.
(2) All the cream cheeses (called “soft cheese” over here) are either flavored or low-fat. Blech blech blech.
(3) There is no such thing as alfredo sauce. There is only carbonara sauce, which is totally different, or this white cheese sauce that people pour on top of lasagna.
(4) You can buy about 8 million different kind of potatoes here.
(5) My strawberries come from Israel. How cool is that?

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I am a Malfoy.

I can't escape my fate. My magickal fate, to be precise. I'm a Malfoy. Voldie, I'm no damn red-haired Weasley! Hehe.

If you are scratching your head right now, feeling utterly confused. Continue doing that.

Okay, cut the crap...

I'm going to be interviewed by Straits Times tomorrow. Is that cool or awesome or cool? I think it's all of the above.

Thus, I can't escape my fate. I have toned down in magic for quite a while, and yet fame is awaiting me... Haha. Okay, stop bootlicking myself.

Anyways, self-flattery aside, Justin and I were chatting about how Singapore has a bright future for flourishes. I believe with time, the gilded art of cardistry (a spanking new term coined by me! =p) will rocketed to the masses and do justice for the young talents here in the haunted shores of this island. And, flourishing hubs of the world are as follows; Singapore (obviously), Norway, Sweden, Germany (for very obvious reasons) and Vietnam (BONE!) and a little of USA. Singapore = Goldmine for flourishing talents. Galore of flourishing talents. The mere thought of seeing flourishes on TV is simply too thrilling. Hooray! I <3 flourishing. Best hobby ever.

On a more serious note, my dad signed me up on a Buddhism course. Which is fabulous. But, I believe I know most of the principles of it already. Bah, at least I have something to do than rot at home visiting the same old websites, and hopefully, I can meet some young Buddhists enthusiasts and make spiritual friends. Bleah, I sound too holy for a BLACK metalhead. But, metalheads are still humans... It's held at Kong Ming San Monastery, and I believe my thursday nights from Feburary onwards will be peaceful and enlightening. Whoo. Nice. Finally, my childhood dream of being in a monastery is somewhat fulfilled. Heh!

And, I got my hands on Opeth's Morningrise! Brilliant stuff.

On my way to stardom (as if) and enlightenment (hopefully),
Ling.
23th January 2006 AD.

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A meal for you, sir?

Fellow reader-fiends, if you happen to be a metalhead yourself, you might want to view what I've intended to post. If, unfortunately, you are not one, I invite you to click ''back'' and check back a few days later.

I assume you have chosen the first option of staying. Now, if you are viewing this with an empty stomach, you will find yourself saliving and having hunger pangs.

----



Make your choice from the menu. After you eat, you can visit the vomitory.

MENU:

Burgers:
Dimmu Burger
Chicken of Bodom
Chickallica (Masters of Chickens only)
1349 Pounder
(In) Flame Grilled Whopper
Six Feet Hotdog
Nightfish Hamburger

Salads:
Carpathian Salad
My Dying Bruccoli
Arch Easter Salad

Fries:
Cradle of Fries
Ancient Fries

Kids Meals:
Old Mans Childmeal
Bruce Chickenson
Lamb Of God
Judas' Penis

Drinks:
Iced Earth Coffee
Beermoth
Sirius Beer
Metallicola
Hellowine
Within Masturbation
Carpathian Fart
Piss of Salvation
Lacuna's Cum

Desserts:
Morbid Angelcakes
Limp Biscuits
Limbonic Tarts
On Shit I lay
Mardick

------

Violently puked out by Metalstorm.com. All rights reserved.

[So bored!] And, SMC's withering throne is toppled. Yawns. Who cares?!

Stoned beyond recognition and sanity,
Ling.
22th January 2006 AD.
Better to reign in Hell.

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Blah.

Nocturnal greetings, my dedicated reader-fiends.

Cut the bullshit and get to the point, I will.

First day of Work at Fantasma on friday is great! Now I feel a purpose in life and for once, I feel I'm using my skills and ''talent'' if I have any, to great and beneficial use. Work = fantastic. Although for the fact that I'm feeling lonely due to my so-called friends' inability to visit me... Thank you people very much... Bah. Generally, I like my job. =P

Anyways, here's one for you: 'How I wish my lawn was emo, then it would cut itself.' HAHA! This line is most reasonably and diabolically spitted by none other than my one and only, Voldie. Heh! <3 Voldie to the maximum possible. And, strangely enough, the Chewbacca hug has evolved itself to Chew-a-don't-know-what hug to Chew a Gummy Bear hug to the latest version of this virus (of life), namely Chewing-gum sticky hug. Hah! So crappy.

Sehnsucht zu sehen du, mein liebling... Nothing can interfere it... No fucking way. =D

Okay, stop, no more mushy stuff. Full Stop.

Bleah. Nothing much except for a 6 hour flourish session with HF people today at the usual place, Shaw Towers. It was great nonetheless. Daryl (not Ho) got owned by Huron! Whee!

Then.... Nothing to blog about already.

Auf Wiedersehen, mein freuend!

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Blank.

Greetings once again, my reader-fiends of all walks of life. Hereby lies the recount of my (mis)adventures spanning across 2 days. Sit back, if your chair doesn't have a back, too bad! Well, as I was saying, sit back and enjoy.

Ahem, let me refresh my aging memory... 2 days ago...

The SMC meeting at Mondo cafe. Oh yes, that one.

Infuriating it is, I was sabotagued by Pambudi into the Impromptu Competition. Alright, so I just did a crappy card effect and yet another even crappier card effect with the (seemingly futile) aid from a small glass bottle which was my impromptu item. I suck! (not that kind of sucking, you sick fucks!) Nuff said.

Anyway, cool cafe. Cool performances. Cool people (most of them). Nice experience performing. Nice time seeing people congregating together for Magic. Nice to see new people as well.

Ah yes! Kev is back in action! When Jio is performing, Kev was his stooge. Jio then asked Kev, 'Do you know magic?' Kev, with his usual expressionless expression, answered, 'Nope! Didn't ever heard of it. Nope.' ROLF. Kev rocks!

And, I looted Bras Brasah! Now I have a entirely free German helpbook. Woot! Brilliant.

That's about it for wedsnesday.

Dawn dawned itself into Thursday.

NYP Open House.

Cool campus. Even cooler labs. It's really an eye opener for me, first time seeing REAL fermentators, liquid(and gas) chromatography machines and complex computer programs doing all the experiments for you, instead of seeing diagrams on textbooks. And, the labs are air-conditioned. Coolio. The cutoff point is relieving to hear, Molecular Biotech is 13, which is what I am aiming for. Nice. [looks forward to an exciting tertiary education]

The one and only downside, poly is messy. No order, no nothing. Just whatever you want to do. Bleah. Just hope I can get into JC, I will go thank Guan Yin Ma if I get around 15 for L1R5.

Having rather enough of the open house, I went to Penny to meet up with my Voldie. (this time, with reinforcements from her parents) She has really cool parents! [envy] And, I feel weird hanging out with her parents. Nonetheless, i enjoyed the time with Voldie and seeing her in her green podka dot one piece uniform. [Argh! Don't kill me, Voldie! You still need Wormtail's hand for the rightful task of exterminating The Boy Who Should Have Perished.] Heh!

In all, spending time with Voldie always rocks! <3

Before I foray into anything more mushy that this, I should change topic before she decides to give me another chew-a-don't-know-what hug.

Bleah. Work tomorrow. [switches myself into performing mode and be prepared to be tired after work]

Blah. No more! Bye bye!

With no inspiration to continue,
Ling.
19th January 2006 AD

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Maybe the whole "British Empire" thing wasn't such a bad idea

A while back WR and I were watching Pirates of the Caribbean, and during the part where the troops are all lined up and stuff during Norrington's promotion WR said, "See, you can say what you want about the British Empire, but that looks so cool. I mean, they were organized." I probably said something bratty about men dressed like giant targets, and that was the end of it.

Only this past week I've found myself waxing nostalgic for the days of the Empire, too. You may remember that at the beginning of the semester, all the British professors warned us about the death and carnage that would result from mobile phones which dared to go off in class. And I was all excited about the new Reign of Justice and Death.

Sadly, however, it turns out that those were idle soft and fluffy Commonwealth threats. Because we just had two days full of lectures about Research Methods for our dissertation (thesis) and on the first day I heard FOUR different cell phones go off. And not a single person was killed or flayed or even reprimanded. At the beginning of the lectures I noticed one girl carrying a conversation on her mobile. Also, people kept wandering in late. But it was mostly the mobiles that stunned me. In fact, one phone went off on both Day 1 and Day 2 of lectures. I mean really, these kids have already been here an entire semester--how have they not been picked off by eagles yet???

Also it appeared to me that all the mobiles that rang belonged to East Asian students. But this may just be the law of percentages: If a phone rings it's just more likely that it belongs to an East Asian student (50 percent of the department's postgraduate student population) than an American student (2 percent) or a Russian student (1 percent). So it's not that I'm racist, so don't write in to tell me that I am. (If you do choose to write in, please tell me your ethnicity and I will be sure to look up some racist terms on Wikipedia to call you to prove how not racist I am.)

A professor was telling us about how early in his career he was researching in the Trinity Library at Cambridge and came across an old unopened box containing eight letters from some famous theorist to another famous theorist, and how those letters had never before been published and actually answered some of the unanswered questions about this theorist. It was like something out of Possession by A.S. Byatt. Right as the instructor is telling us how exciting all this was, and how things like this never happen, a mobile phone went off. And it wasn't the one and one-half rings that you're used to hearing, which is how long it usually takes for the embarassed idiot to turn off their flipping phone. Oh no, this phone rang no less than 5 times. The student just took it out of her bag and then held it as it rang, as though she had absolutely no idea how to make the sound stop.

I tell you what: let's bring back the British Empire. Sure, it may have been oppressive and culturally insensitive and full of stupid outfits. But when the British Empire promised floggings, they delivered. Captain Sir Edward Pellew would never have put up with this mess.

You break the rules; you get flogged. That is all.

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Hopelessly hooked to Rammstein.

As you, damnable reader-fiends, have probably noticed. I've gone entirely mad over Rammstein and all thngs German recently. The passion has reached fever pitch and there is no turning back. The result of my Rammstein-o-madness includes inserting 2 Rammstein videos into your blog, another 2 into your Friendster profile, blasting your empty house with Rammstein all day long and pretend you are Till, pounding on your knees while lip-syching the songs because your german is not that pro yet. The more serious side-effects are as follows; the constant urge to speak in german even though you sound like a choked duck, and the yearning to scribble grammatically wrong german and still be very proud of yourself thnking, 'Hey! I know Deustch! Don't play play!' This is truly terrifying. Rammstein has possessed me! [May the power of Christ compels me not! *sprinkles holy water from Till's dildo whilst Buck Dich is playing in the background.*]

I cannot fucking wait to see Rammstein Live! I want my pryomaniac lusts to be fuelled by their flamboyant shows!

You guessed it, I'm listening to Rammstein right now. It's on Spring. [Spring fur mich!]

On a more sane note, the 2 videos by your right hand side are namely, 'Du Hast live in MTV Europe Awards' and 'Ausche Zu Ausche Live Aus Berlin'. Enjoy.

Anyways, back to reality, there's finally a SMC meeting later. [Looks forward to it]

Alright. Nothing more to blog about! Shoo! Auf Wiedersehen! Sehen sie in Hölle!

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I'm loyal to the Motherland, but America is quite nice too

Hah. My dad will be calling me in 5 minutes, just you watch.

So I've lived most of my life in the States, which is not unusual for a US citizen. But it's funny the things you notice after being gone for a little while. Here are the things I noticed and appreciated during my visit back home. (Note: I realize that I was visiting Mormonville but that's not what this post is about. Rest assured, though, that there were lots of churches and SUVs and Aryan poster-children all over the place.)

Things I Noticed and Appreciated:

Drinking fountains

Honda Civics and other not-hatchbacks

Houses with grass on all four sides

Sunshine

Dry cold, which is pretty much a tropical vacation compared to damp cold

Being able to say "crap" every other sentence if I felt like it, which I sort of did. 'Twas very freeing.

Refrigerators you could park an entire English car in

Seeing gallon jugs of milk in the fridge--4 of them

Seeing 3 tubs of Dryers in the freezer

Dad's chocolate milkshakes and microwave popcorn

Ice cream shops, where I could go and get a double-scoop ice cream cone at the exact second I decided that I wanted one. Granted, I never did this, because I didn't have to with all that Dryers in the freezer, but still. People have heard my opinions on the lack of ice cream shops in England. (In WR's words, "Oh. So you're still on that, then.")

Fleming's steakhouse, where my parents took me for dinner because they love me--and because my dad loves steak

Coney's Frozen Custard with Daltongirl

Fry sauce

All-you-can-eat sushi for $12.95 with Cicada and Redlaw. Mmmm . . . Vegas rolls . . .

AmyJane, Redlaw, Daltongirl, Foodie, Kristen, AA, Panini, Cicada, Mistress of Mayhem, Jaime, and all the delightful people I got to see. I am not going to mention the undelightful people, because I've done that once already.

Hearing my 22-month-old niece announce that she farted. Her mother and I both started laughing, which made her say it more. "I FAR-ted. I far-ted. FAR-ted, Momma!"

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Yes, I really am this lazy

I can't write an entire post here because I have to get back to class, but here's the letter I wrote to my family to let them know that I'm back safe on English soil:

I just wanted to let y'all know that I made it back just fine and I've unpacked and am going to go take a much-needed shower.

Highlights from the trip:

Exchanged my blue pashmina at the Vegas airport store, only it snagged by the time I got to Loughborough. Moral of the story: don't buy $10 crap.

[Savvymom's] sleeping pill, which worked quite nicely! I took it with the in-flight meal and by the time I finished eating I saw two flight attendants instead of one and barely had time to get my complimentary little eye-mask thingie on before I passed out. I woke up several times but just for a minute or two each time.

Getting a sweet text from WR as soon as I hit English soil and turned on my phone.

Hearing a toddler yell "NOO!" during passport check and automatically looking for Savannah.

Having this 60-yr-old Australian lady try to cut in line at the passport check because she'd got in the wrong one and didn't want to go to the back like a normal person. My new friend Victoria from Las Vegas who is studying costume design in London told her that she was sorry the lady got in the wrong line, but she could just go to the back like everyone else, and the Australian lady told her not to be so "narky." And then the lady touched Victoria's shoulder to get her to move forward and Victoria said, "I'm going to have to ask you not to touch me." Eventually the people behind us let her in because she wasn't going to budge. (Victoria and I both agreed later that if the lady had just come up to us and said, "I'm so sorry, but I just spend 40 minutes standing in the wrong line and my family is waiting for me, could I possibly, etc." then we would have let her in. Only she didn't do that. And it's not like Australians have never heard of a queue before. Anyway, I'm not a jerk. I'm not!)

Dropping my laptop case upside down on an ESCALATOR and having everything spill out--a nice man helped me grab some of the stuff at the bottom.

Getting an earlier train from Gatwick--the nice train man said I could, so I got home an hour early.

Forgetting my suitcase when I got off the train at King's Cross and having to rush back on to grab it--a nice man pried the door open for me so I could get back off.

Remembering that people in London can be nice.

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Mein Geburtstag ist gute.

Greetings, my reader-fiends. I guess you have figured it, today is my spawn date. To cover up what has made me rather melancholic yesterday, I had a kickarse (really, literally) outing out with my truly, Voldemort and deserkrator-fiend, Rei.

Viel Danke für heute, mein Voldemort. <3 Du. Thanks for that ruthless birthday bash. (with the sinister aid from the borrowed flexible curve) Affection lingers in the depths of my heart, or arse, to be more precise.

Now, that I am seventeen years old. Siebenzehn alte Jahren. Departure from childish acts and thoughts are definite. And, one more year to servitude to my Voldie for her drinking desires. I've also made a resolution to study hard in either JC or Poly. I want no regrets like what I regretted in my upper secondary life. And, another top priority is that to get all Cradle of Filth stuff and immerse myself in more metal cacophonies. For metal music spurs me on in life by tenfolds. My motto or way of life: Listen to Metal. Feel revitalised and live life right and have no regrets.

Blah, crappy stuff aside, I can't wait for Dan And Dave Forums' collaboration video. It's going to be so exciting to watch. The line up is incredible and the video will be highly worth it to watch.

Can't wait!

Here's the ''poster'':


Cool eh?

HL is going to be owned, real bad. And, of 10 people to be featured in the video, 4 are from Singapore. Singapore really has a bright future for flourishing. Too bad, the general masses do not know this yet. [Must promote this art!] And, I feel motivated to improve so I can featured in such videos... I must persevere.

----

There my brain goes again, blanked out.

----

Auf Wiedersehen, mein freünd!

[Off to read my God Emperor of Dune and listen to more metal and get zonked out.]

Yours insincerely,
Ling
16th January 2006 A.D.

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Deustch.

Now, I think English is such a simple language after exposing myself to German.

German is as hard as a stimulated homo sapien. Fuck it. [all puns intended in every direction.]

How am I going to remember all 5 or 6 variations of the word 'The'? I hope my brain was a sponge.

Nonetheless, I am determined. I believe with the help from Der Metzgermeister, all odds can be defeated, it's just a matter of time and effort committed into it.

Determination. I must have that.

Deustch, Ich muss zerstoren du!

Auf Wiedersehen, mein lesen-freünd!

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Ein Herzeleid...

I know it's still not my birthday yet. My family sort of celebrated it in advance as mine lands on a weekday.

Although I had Swensens for my so-called birthday celebration with my family, not really my family, just my parents. Celebrating my birthday with my famly has not been good for around 3 recurring consective years now. I, hereby, give up on the hope for a better birthday celebration with my family. Give up. [I feel like Harry Potter, celebrating birthday in sorrow... Not trying to sound emo here.]

[Looks forward to tomorrow for a better 'celebration' with my Voldie, desekrator-fiend Rei and Maytn.] Sehnsucht für ein beste Geburtstag.

Siebenzehn Jahren. Seventeen years.

Laments aside, cosmic energy strikes me once again. My birthday is the 16th. Was sitting at table 16 as well. There's more.

During the car ride, I saw a motorcycle with the plate number 9992. I said to myself, 'Alamak! Turn that number over!' Within 2 seconds, a red car zoomed past with the plate number 6663.

What is this, man?!

Then, I saw an ambulance with the numbers 333 painted on it. And, recently, I've been seeing alot of omens that somehow linked to the Number of the Beast. [Asks myself if The Antichrist really is here already.]

Anyways, I have been hopelessly hooked to indulging myself in the cacophonies of Stormblast 1996 and Midian. Extremely brilliant stuff in both that albums. I think you know this already, but I just repeat myself anyway, Dani amazed me with his deranged lyric-writing skills once again. Floored. Owned. I really need to contact him and be his daemoniac disciple. (if he even finds me worthy enough, that is.)

I look forward to Chinese New Year for the first time in history. The (pretty obvious) reasons? Money! I wanna get a proper German-English dictionary and a couple more albums and a little bit more metal shirts. I'll be contented by then.

[Random announcement randomly inserted here: I am dead set in learning german and I have tonnes of motivation to accomplish that.]

My brain is acting up again, yelling at me to stop blogging as it has thrown in the towel already.

[Heads back to the foul pit that spawned me in around 17 years ago, jabs the 'Publish Post' button and mutters some inaudible curses, then plugs into the servile earphones of mine for more metal auditory pleasures.]

With No respect or whatsoever in similar,
Ling.
Furiously scribbled on 15th January 2006 A.D.

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Mein Teil

Gut Gott! [got reminded of Rammstein's Mein Teil and grins]

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Freitag.

Today saw the outing with my Voldemort and desekration-fiend, Rei at the ever-monotonous Orchard.

Needless to say any futhur, the outing was great, any outing with my Voldie is always great. ;) Viel Danke zu dich, mein liebling fur der Midian CD! You = the greatest person on Earth that I have met. [Alright, enough of that talk before she gives me another rib-crushing hug or something similar in that fashion...]

Anyways, I saw half of Virtuoso at Hereen, and guess what? The Virts are still out kicking ass! Huron generously gave me a hint of what's coming up, collaboration video with Bone Evil himself. Now, that's something worth waiting and anticipating for. And, thanks Huron for praising me like never before for my so-called 'impromptu Tornado cut in bus' crap clip, I still have a long way to go to reach the Virt level. Thanks for that praise. It's motivation for me to improve even futhur. =D

And, I think I made a smart choice in buying the 1996's version of Stormblast. It's really nice, it gives me the feeling of being in a storm and being desolate and all. Shagarth's vocals is really gutteral and suiting for the album's concept. Plus, of course, Dimmu borgir's signature over ableit wise use of synth work made the album more outstanding.

And, yes, before I conclude this post. I shall remind my dearest reader-fiends once again, it's only 3 days to my birthday. Heh! ;) Don't get me Stormblast or Midian, it won't be appreciated. =D

[Heads back to the pit that spawned me and plugs into more Stormblast and Midian]

With all due disrespect,
Ling.
13rd January 2006 AD

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Mommie gem

Remember how sometimes I do mommie gems? Well it's Christmas and Easter all rolled in one, because today I have a new one for you!

The other day I was steeling myself to go drop 60 bucks with the hairdresser lady to get my hairs done. My split ends were taking over the world, and I needed to have chemicals poured on my head to stop the dirty dishwater shade that tries to take over my head when I'm not looking.

When this happens, I have this conversation with myself (and with anyone else unfortunate enough to be around) about how I really should not be spending that much money on something as silly as hair, and how I can't just keep this up indefinitely, and how I really should just stop and accept the fact that my natural hair color looks like dusty bat poop and how I will never spend enough time in the sun, ever, to get natural highlights.

This time, I had The Conversation with Mom and Savvymom.

Me: "I mean, it's just so much money to spend. And it's especially expensive to spend that in England, where everything is twice as much."

Mom: "Now, it should be cheaper to get your hair done in Europe. It was when I lived there."

Me: "Um, well, it costs plenty in England. Also there's the exchange rate and all."

Mom: "Well, in Germany, in 1987, you could get your hair done for cheap."

Me: ". . . kay . . . Anyway, maybe I should just get a cut and forget the highlights. Would my hair look terrible if I just skipped it?"

Mom: "In Germany I could get a cut and a perm for about 35 marks."

Savvymom: "Ewww, why would you get a perm?"

Me: "Thanks for you help."

I finally got her to believe that Europe's economy may have bounced back a bit since the Cold War, and that England was probably never cheap to begin with. I did end up spending all my moneys on a cut and highlights, and it does look pretty darn cute.

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How not to be a slack-jawed idiot

This is my letter to the table of 25, most specifically the 7 big-haired rugby-player teenagers at the loud end of the table, who ruined Foodie's birthday dinner:

Dear Big-Haired Rugby-Player Teenagers at the Loud End of the Table,

I realize that you are from Springville, UT and therefore were never taught proper "going out in public" manners (your claim, not mine), so I'm just going to make you a little list now for future reference.

1. The Brick Oven in Provo may not be an establishment of fine dining, but it is still a restaurant, rather that the pig's trough you mistook it for.

2. Claiming that you are from Springville, UT, and therefore were never taught how to be in public is no excuse. However, if this is seriously going to impede you, they do have things resembling restaurants in Springville. We suggest you use them.

3. Apache war cries from wannabe frat boys are offensive, whether at the table or not.

4. We do not pound on tables with our fists.

5. When the weak-spined pansy manager with the stupid glasses has to come over and ask you to keep it down, that means you are being really, really loud.

6. A real manager (rather than the weak-spined pansy you met last night) would have asked you to leave. Should you decide to try this whole "restaurant thing" a second time, don't be surprised when this happens.

7. When the entire UNLV women's basketball team (who was in town playing BYU that day) asks to be moved to another area of the restaurant, that means you are being really, really loud.

8. When the entire UNLV women's basketball team gets up to leave and you start calling out things like, "Go home, UNLV!" that means you are not only loud and stupid, but that you deserve to be stuffed into a basketball hoop, doused in kerosene, and set on fire.

9. The "Happy Birthday Song" does not need to be sung at the top of your lungs. And it most definitely does not need to be sung twice at the top of your lungs.

10. When a witty and attractive library student is visiting from England and this is her one chance to catch up with these particular friends, and she can't even hear them because you are being so flipping loud, that means you deserve to be slowly dismembered with pizza slicers.

11. When one of the long-suffering girls at Foodie's table finally stands up and tells you exactly how obnoxious you are being and that you have completely ruined her meal, then grabs her purse and leaves the room, you do not call out things like "Yay, she's leaving!" This causes both Kristen and Nemesis to whip around in their seats, snarling, and tell you exactly what they think of behavior like that, because that is both rude and ugly. Then you will look down at your laps like the embarassed teenagers that you are. Only you brought in our yourselves.

Bon Appetit, punks!

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Tab TV.

ROFL! IMFAO! LOL!

Are I bonkers or am I bonkers? Kind of both.

XDDDD.

Today's episode of Tab TV is for me and my Voldemort! Purrfectly. I shall not spill anymore, before my Voldie gives me a virtual rib-crushing hug through an sms.

Anyways, Mdm X = no style. Voldie = Total 1337 pWnage (with the help of her flexible curve). You get the idea.

And, you can imagine the size of my 'hidden' grin when the narrator said 'Pain and pleasure comes along the same line.'

Regarding the earlier portion of the show, both me and my Voldie held not much interest, except that 'OMG, this is so funny! LOL!' that kind of reactions.

That girl in drooping spectacles is trying wee bit too hard to be an emo. And, the 2 equally inferior accomplices got the Emo accessories wrong. Wrong! You cannot even be emo, I suggest you go jump.

For more accurate resources on how to become an emo, look at Gerald Way from MCR (also known as Morons Can't Rock) and adore at the lyrics of the same band, then stare at a dozen of blades and try pull down your lips until you get a maximum curve. If this doesn't exactly work well, I suggest you to get inspirations from the 'I'm so goth'' icons and try asking your mom to get the EMO cereals (get the Free Razor plus 25% Added Angst). This should work.

Emos, never fails to make me laugh. Interesting species of Emo Sapiens, they are. They must have an extra pair of chromosomes called the EMO chromosome. What a mutation.

Yawns. So bored.

[Off to read God Emperor of Dune and looks forward to Freitag.][grin maliciously]

Auf Wiedersehen!

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Cold weather galore...

As you have all probably noticed, it has been raining almost non-stop for the past three or four days.

And, my point is that, to make you feel better in this sort of weather, think in the ways of a traditional black metal warrior, think of the bleak and despairing atmosphere. Haha. This is so crappy.

On a more rational side of matters, I finished reading Children of Dune late last night. Now I can't wait to start reading God Emperor of Dune.

Some quotes from Children of Dune:

I am House Atreides. - Leto II Atreides.

My skin is not my own. - Leto II Atreides.

Why do I not feel grief? - Alia Atreides, Abomination.

The worst fear that we cannot correct is the fear of our own mistakes. - I can't find where is it...

Fear defeated Alia! - Page 278.

''One blasphemy remains! Blasphemy! And the name of the blasphemy is Alia!'' - The Preacher's last sermon.

To suspect your own mortality is to know the beginning of terror; to learn irrefutably that you are mortal is to know the end of terror. - Bene Gesserit.

-----

Whoo. Dune rocks! Frank Herbet is a pure genius to come up with such a plot. Too bad, he died in 1986. I am definitely committing myself to the study of all things Dune.

-----

And, yesternight, whilst fiddling around with my cards as usual, I created yet another cut. It originates from my Purity Cut, but this retains the top card, and it definitely look more gilded and wee bit more intricate. I shall name this creation of mine the 'Muad Dib Cut' due to my current obsession of Dune.

Alright, my brain is acting up again. Can't think of anything interesting to blog about, well, I have a boring life now without school and all. I cannot wait to start work! Or rather, I cannot wait to get richer. Money does makes the world go round.

And, Matyn and I really should start a joint-blog or something and start writing some stuff. I have alot of ideas randomly popping in my filth-infested mind as he praised in yet another testimonial he generously gave me, but I do not have sufficient motivation to tidy up those ideas and to actually actualise the writings. Soon...

Oh yes, it's just 6 days to my 17th Birthday. I guess you guys have a memory well enough, so I can save my breathe repeating it. Heh. I kidd.

Auf Wiedersehen!

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Let the wild rumpus begin

So Baby Savannah is having a great time with the whole "having grandparents in town" gig. She already knows that Grandma and Papa = Krispy Kreme and Soda. Today my mom and dad and I took her to Burger Supreme for lunch, where she drank 1) Mom's Diet Coke, 2) my root beer, and 3) her ketchup. We went for lunch because Savvymom and Savvydad were taking the new baby to have his little, ahem, procedure. I'll leave Savvymom to tell that story, though.

This morning she presented my dad with Where the Wild Things Are and made the noises that mean "read this to me right now and nobody gets hurt."

Dad: "Okay sweetie, let's read the book. I don't have my reading glasses, though . . . "

So because he couldn't see the words he just made stuff up.

Dad: "And this boy has a crown or something on his head . . . "

After a few minutes I heard . . .

Dad: "Wait, what kind of oddball animals are these? What book is this??"

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1 week more.

Hey, fellow reader-fiends.

Well, let's see. It's only 7 days away to my 17th Birthday. Have you gotten my gifts yet? Heh! Kidding. =P

In any case, you have no idea what to get for me.

I have some suggestions that you can consider.

• Money! Loads of them will be ideal.
• Jerry Nuggets? Just 2 of them will do the job.
  
• Friedrich Nietzsche/H.P. Lovecraft/ Dune books.
• Dimmu Borgir's Stormblast and For All Tid.
• The body of someone I loathe alot. [Stirbt! Ich muss zerstoren sie!]
  
• Opeth's Orchid.
• Katatonia's Brave Murder Day.
• Immortal's Pure Holocaust.

That should be sufficient. =D If you have not realised, I am not joking here, especially for bullet number 5. Heh!

I'm so old. 17 years on this dank planet called Earth.

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Respect.

I got to admit this. I have vast amounts of respect for Ming Yi Venerable. He's the total embodiment of all virtues of a perfect Buddhist. I will strive to be like him.

Who says metalheads are a group of virtueless people?

My love for Buddhism has been rekindled. And, I would like the younger generations to see the benefits that they can derived from learning the ways of Buddhism. It's really a great thing.

And, you know that I seldom praise things to much extend.

- Ling.

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Undecided.

My fellow reader-fiends, it has been a while since I updated this wrenched journal of mine. So I will fulfill your reading desires by picking up my quill (or rather, tapping on the keyboard) and starts scribbling yet another chunk of incomprehensible of words.

So, what the heck have I been doing the past few days?

First and foremost, I have finally met someone who's into astrology and all. Hooray. Now, I really got to meet him more often and chat about all thngs New Age/Occult/Astrology/[insert more here]. He's a cool guy. =) Like I mentioned in that fully done testi in Friendster, it must be fate that we met, the Age of Aquarius must be nearing. Thus, we are being called to service for this metamorphsis. Haha, this seems like another crappy theory of none other than yours truly. And, dude, seriously you praised me too much for my writings. I believe I have a long way to go still. Speaking of writings, we really should start a joint-blog that will suitingly consist of Weird/Erotic/Horror/New Age/anything that our filth-infested minds can think of. That would be seriously a cool project to embark on.

Bullshits side, yesterday saw the outing with my dearest Voldemort. Needless to say, the outing was great. I have no idea why that 'Cosmic energy' is so uncanny. Here are some examples:

• The song 'Der Meister' will be playing in her player whenever we have any kinky thingy going on.
• My player will respond by playing 'Bestrafe Mich' or 'Bück Dich'.
• Slipknot's Virus of Life will be the best song to describe the entire scenario.
  

Ugh, screw that cosmic energy! And, why her mom knows it from the beginning? What a face reader she is.

If you, the unwary reader-fiend, don't understand what is going on above, don't bother re-reading it, it's supposed to be that way. =)

Du bist mein, mein liebling!

XD

Bullshit filled post, indeed.

Alrighty, my reader-fiends, my brain isn't right today or is it left either. All I am receiving from my brain matter seems to tell me this, 'I can't fucking think of anymore stuff to blog on right now!'

Alright, hereby signing off, and clicking my heels together three times six, shut my flapping and mostly incoherent mouth, and fuck back to the pit that spawned me.

Auf Wiedersehen, mein freund!

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The Precious and The Precious II

Bliss, people. Guess who remembers her auntie?



This snuggly little guy doesn't remember me yet, on account of he's new. But he will!

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Stay on target

Almost there . . . almost there . . .

The Star Wars quote is in honor of my dad, and also in honor of Denis Lawson, who played Wedge Antilles in the Star Wars trilogy but has lately been showing up in some of the British stuff I've been watching lately, including a television show that they showed on the airplane just now. They said it was a comedy but it wasn't that funny to me. Only maybe that's because I'd just watched Everybody Loves Raymond and almost choked from trying not to wake up the girl napping next to me with my chortling.

This morning dear sweet WR got up at 4:30am to drive me to Gatwick, because he is a Good, Good Man. (His flatmate also wins the Good Good Man award for coming with us to keep WR awake on the 3-hour drive back.) Also, how pathetic am I that I'm only going to be gone for a week, but I started missing WR the second he hugged me goodbye. Also he paid to park and came inside and bought me breakfast at McDonalds. Sniff. Sniff.

I'm in the Las Vegas airport right now, waiting for my Delta connection to SLC. To my left is the Strip, and to my right is the moving walkway, which keeps playing celebrity and faked-celebrity voices telling people to stand to the right of the moving walkway so that the people on the left who want to be gambling right this second can get to it. They even have slot machines in that livestock pen airports build for smokers. The Las Vegas airport is kind of my new best friend, though, because I stood outside waiting for a bus to the terminal and it was sunny and 65 degrees. Mmmmm. Also they have free wireless. And drinking fountains and really big nice bathrooms where I can brush my teeth and stores containing things which cost dollars instead of pounds, so I can buy twice as much of them. So yeah, we're friends.

Only I'm not so sure if Virgin Atlantic and I are friends. Or at least I'm not friends with their representatives in the airport. They kept not doing what I wanted, like when they said I couldn't carry my carry-on bag on the airplane because it weighs more than 6, even though I used the same sassy cherry-colored bag on a Virgin flight back in September. They also wouldn't check said bag all the way through to SLC, (grrr) and they tried to say that Delta and Virgin Atlantic aren't Skymiles partners, but I wasn't having any of that, because they so are. So yeah, moral of the story: start your trip with Delta, so then Virgin just has to shut their faces and deal with it. Plus it wasn't nice of them to start telling me No first thing in the morning and throwing off my groove. I have a long day ahead of me, people--could you try not shafting it right off the bat??

Once I got on the plane Virgin started redeeming itself, which means that they kept me fed and watered. I can get behind that. Every time I looked up they were coming around with water or orange juice or ice cream bars or these tiny little panini guys. The dessert with the dinner was this profiterole thing w/chocolate sauce and I really wanted to start cruising the aisles to see if there were people who didn't want theirs, cuz dang that was good. Also they showed lots of lots of movies and TV shows, but the station that would have been showing the new Pride & Prejudice was out of service. Of course. I did watch the new Wallace & Grommit movie and some good TV shows and stuff.

Almost there . . . almost there . . .

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Who has one-third of a master's degree?

That's right, I do!!

Whew! I just finished my last two projects today. (I couldn't finish one of them until the computer labs opened back up yesterday). And now I am free, free, free! Also it means I can actually get on the plane in the morning and fly meself back across the pond to see darling baby Savannah and my NEW darling nephew Ethan who arrived yesterday and is just beautiful beautiful beautiful.

It feels really weird to be coming back though when I've only been gone a few months. I keep thinking, "Wait, this isn't right! I haven't transformed myself into a creature of intrigue and sophistication and a Madonna-ish accent yet! I don't even have a new wardrobe!" But the sad fact is that my meagre funds will buy me more clothes in Provo than they will in England, so I'll be doing some shopping next week. In fact, there is a whole list of things I will be doing in Provo next week, on account of how much cheaper it will be:

1. Developing all my pictures (Bless the good people at Costco!)
2. Buying a white dress shirt to replace the one that I turned grey in the washing machine (along with all my underwear) when I accidentally put a black sock in with my whites. This was when I was first dating WR, so I was trying to do the laundry really fast so I could get back to, um, stuff . . .
   
3. Buying books to read on the plane ride, airport wait, plane ride, passport check, airport wait, train ride, train station wait, and train ride back to my England house. Airplane books are such tricky things, anyway. It has to be the right kind of book--just page-turny enough to be interesting but not enough to make you think too hard. And I don't like just buying the first piece of chick-lit cotton candy I come across, because what if it's rubbish and then I have a $10 book I'm never going to read again?
   
4. Buying t-shirts for WR, because he says he wants some, and he will deserve them on account of he's driving me 3 hours to the airport tomorrow. I asked him what size he wears and he doesn't know. What size of Old Navy shirt do 6-foot-tall skinny men wear, usually? Anyone know?
   
5. Looking for black heels. Right now I only have flats, which are comfortable but don't actually show my sexy calf muscles to their full advantage. And since those are the only sexy muscles I have, I should really be making use of that. Unfortunately, English shoes hate me and my feet and absolutely none of them fit. Or at least they don't fit my right food. And no, I don't want to talk about it. If I were smarter I would just chuck the high-heel idea because I still have scars on my feet from the last time I tried to wear high-heeled black dress shoes (September 25th). But maybe the scarring part was because they were crap from Payless Shoe Source.
   

Also there's a list of things I will be buying when I'm in UT because I can't buy them here

1. The entire stock of Bath & Body Works who will be having their huge January sale
2. Cajun seasonings for the cooking of Cajun Chicken Linguine
3. Tomatilla for my Canadian classmate who is having Mexican food withdrawals
4. Black beans, possibly, unless anyone in the UK knows where I might find some
5. Reeses peanut butter cups
   
6. More peanut butter
7. More chocolate chips
8. More cowbell
9. Bisquick, for the cooking of Southern necessities
10. Smucker's boysenberry syrup for Landlady J, because it turns out she really likes that stuff and she gave back half my rent for next week since I won't be here. So she can have whatever kind of syrup she wants.
    
11. A duffel bag for the carrying of said items
    

Can anyone think of anything I'm leaving out? Anyway, must get to packing. Please cross your fingers that I survive the 10 hour 45 minute plane ride to Vegas without causing harm to myself or others. And I hope I will get to see some of you while I'm there!

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I'm so goth...

Yesternight, whilst chatting with Rei at the unholy hour of 3 AM, we got so cranky, we came up with more I'm so goth captions after seeing and IMFAO-ing some icons made by none other than my truly, Merle.

Here are the basic three I'm so goth icons that brought my crappiness level to greater and unparalleled heights. Enjoy.

[ Due to certain technical difficulties with this muggle apparatus, the icons cannot be uploaded. So, too bad! ]

To recompensate your loss, I have 2 other equally entertaining pictures to share with you. Here.



To futher entertain you fucker-reader-fiends, here are some phrases.

1. I'm so goth, not one inch of my skin isn't cut.
2. I'm so goth, I'm borned with black nails.
3. I'm so goth, my condom is black.
4. I'm so goth, I could count the number of times I smiled with one hand.
5. I'm so goth, my favourite pastime is fantasizing suicide.

There's more, just that I'm tired to think of more right now.

Have a depressive day, my Emos and Goths alike!

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Weird.

School has started. And, I'm feeling useless and very weird. Suddenly, I want to study something and feel the stress of studying once again. Most of all, I kind of miss sitting in a classroom full of people that I like and loathe at the same time, and secretly fiddling with my cards under the desk and pretending to pay attention to the lessons. Well, in the ulitmate end, I must move on.

I went back yesterday noon to visit Mr Neo. It was a heart-warming experience seeing the things you once found monotonous. Suddenly, I felt really really old and out of place, even the canteen where I ''hung'' out alot during those mugging periods looked ailen. Now, the flag poles are placed on a platform, so the place looked even weirder. And, now the I classes are located nearest to the staff rooms, so that's a total flip of classroom arrangement. So 4 Integral classroom is currently invaded by 4D. I believe that my evilsonic presence will prevail in that particular room, always ready to influence those young, unknowing juniors of mine. And, where the heck is my beloved and desekrated table? I want it back! Besides those mad ravings, the chat session between me and Mr Neo has definitely mellowed down, due to the subside of teenage angst in me. I would suggest him to listen to metal music and drown his sorrows of his sad existance in that even sadder place. He said this, 'Later, I'll have to see how Mr Loo has to ultilise me futhur.' Pity him. Hang in there, Mr Neo. =D Obviously, that's an useless advice. And, to futhur aggrevate matters, he has been taken out of NCC or also called NecroCarnage Council. Awww. Anyways, Mr Neo reads Friedrich Nietzsche as well! Hooray! He's really one cool person. He lent me a philosophy book on 4 philosophers namely Nietzsche, Kafka, Kierkegaard and Dostoevsky. And, I can't wait to go out with him for a meal and yet another chat session over food (not canteen's!). But, as he said, 'I will go if I have spare time. Oh wait, hang on, when did I ever have any spare time?' Sigh, what a sad life he leads. I don't know why I feel like contributing to the school, in terms of helping them and not in terms of any kind of finanical aid as I can't even support myself. I would really like to start a magic club or something like that in that school, then I'll be the Founder!

Laments aside, I have spent my morning basically taking photographs of my thumb fan to see if I have improved or not. Here are the results:








Bleah, I'm so useless not going school...

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The Brits meet Dixie and she frightens them

My absolute favorite breakfast is my mom's (and now my) biscuits & sausage gravy. It's a Southern staple, and people who've never tried the real stuff are missing out. (Note: whatever they serve you at Denny's or from the big cauldron at gas stations is NOT the real thing. You must never let such an abomination pass your lips.)

So during the Christmas break I decided that I needed some biscuits & gravy and that WR needed to be introduced to the finer aspects of Southern cuisine. Turns out that a fun thing to do is tell a British person you are making them biscuits 'n gravy. Go on, try it sometime! They will look at you and say, "Biscuits . . . with gravy???" as they imagine someone taking a plate of Hobnob cookies and pouring a boatload of brown gravy over them. Then they start retching. It gets even better when you mention the sausage. Landlady J couldn't get over it, and started laughing through the dry heaves. Once I explained further she decided that I was making sugarless scones with white sauce and sausage. Which . . . okay.

I had to make the biscuits from scratch, since they don't actually make Bisquick here, and I had to forego the Jimmy Dean sausage in favor of Sainsbury's brand. But the end result worked, I think, even though the sausage-to-milk ratio was off in the beginning. And I wasn't too worried about whether WR would eat it, because the main ingredient is sausage, which I think might be his favorite section of the food pyramid.

So I served us both, took a picture especially for my blog friends, and proceeded to dig in. To my right I saw WR pick up a biscuit half with his hand and take a bite out of it.

WR: "Mmmmm . . . this is quite tasty!"

Me: "Oh my gosh, what are you doing???"

WR: "What?"

Me: "Um, you don't eat this with your hands. It's against the rules."

WR: "Why not?"

Me: "You just don't!"

WR: "But that's how the French eat it."

Me: "Aaaughh! Don't mention the French, my father will be reading this!"

WR: "Erm, not sure what the problem is here."

Me: "Because, people will see the pictures and they will know that I failed because you're not supposed to be physically able to eat this with your hands! The gravy is too thick and now everyone will know and the Daughters of the Confederacy will tell me that I'm out of the club and I'm not allowed to make biscuits and gravy anymore and I will die from the shame!"

WR: (calmly continued eating his meal, hoping that the rabid banshee next to him would eventually settle)

As soon as I finished my plate, I raced to the kitchen to add more milk to the gravy. The problem was that an English package of sausage is bigger than an American package of sausage, so I needed more milk to compensate. And that's all. I know what I'm doing. I do!

WR went back for seconds and ended up nearly finishing off the pan. I swear I've never seen anyone who can pack away as much food as he can. Also he was very complimentary and told me that he really liked it. That's the nice thing about cooking for WR--he always compliments the food and then usually offers to do the "washing up." And yes, he calls it that, which I think is adorable. Somehow in my egocentric world English people only use words like this because they know I get a kick out of it.

In case anyone wants to try this at home, here's the very simple recipe:

1 package sausage
3 or so tbsp flour
3 cups of milk
salt & pepper

biscuits (made from a mix or scratch)

Brown the sausage in a large saucepan--don't drain out the grease. Once cooked, sprinkle in the flour & stir to coat the meat. Add the milk and stir over low heat until the gravy thickens (about 10 minutes). If the gravy's too thin, let it cook down. If it gets too thick, add more milk and reheat. (Hint: If it's thick enough to eat with your hands that's bad!) Add salt and pepper to taste, serve hot over warm biscuits.

Extra points if you up the cholesterol quotient with a side of fried or scrambled eggs. Bonus extra points if you use a Southern accent for the entire meal.

Enjoy!

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Resolutions? I don't need no stinking resolutions

Because it is the new year, and because I would hate to start the year off with some kind of blogtastic feat of genius and wit, which would then haunt me for the rest of the year as I tried to live up with the precedent I'd set, I'm going to make things easy on myself. My first post of the year will be a highlights/lowlights list. So there.

New Year's Highlights:

Lasagna dinner with WR and other friends, with lasagna prepared the English way. Turns out this does not involve ricotta cheese but does involve a jar of white Lasagna sauce. Who knew? It was tasty, though.

Drank large quantities of J2O. My favorite flavor is "Orange & Passionfruit."

Ate enough cookies, cake, cheesecake, Jaffa cakes, chocolates, brie, ciabbatta bread, and red grapes to turn myself (and possibly 2 or 3 other people) morbidly obese.

Got to be on the winning Monopoly team (WR's). I've decided that I should always be on a team when I play that game, as it reduces the impulse to 1) lose interest and quit early, 2) lose interest and begin with the namecalling, and 3) lose interest and knock the #$%&^ game off the table. It was much better this way, and I sort of won! Also it was the British version, where the money is in pounds and the properties are things like "Oxford Street" and "Park Lane" and "Marylebone Railroad" and stuff.

There was no playing of Risk. Thank the heavens above. I know the menfolk love that game, but seriously.

Watched the countdown on TV, as well as the fireworks show that they did from the London Eye, which looked pretty darn amazing, even on the TV. The only fly in the ointment was the BBC commentator lady, who was either high, drunk, or had never seen fireworks before in her entire life. She kept going on and on about how "fireworks are so masculine, so this year they've incorporated touches of fushcia to make them more feminine" and how "OOOOOh my Goooooooosh, it's like falling drops of lace from Heaven and the Blessed Angels!!!" Yeah. Completely insane, she was.

Slept in till 10:30 and had English pancakes for breakfast. Turns out they're different too--more like thick crepes in texture--but really good. I had mine w/lemon & sugar and polished off the leftover brie for good measure. Wouldn't want to be wasteful. WR hit on the genius idea of melting brie into the pancake. Am I the luckiest girl ever or what?

Went to church in the afternoon and listened to a very sweet man give a talk wherein he didn't actually talk about the gospel or the scriptures or Jesus so much. He had just been to see The Lion, The Witch & the Wardrobe with his family and did that thing many people do when they've just recently seen a movie and loved it and found it Really Meaningful (think Schindler's List, Saving Private Ryan, The Passion of the Christ, Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, The Matrix, movies starring Hillary Duff, etc.). Because this dear brother was moved by the elements of Christian allegory in the story, he proceeded to re-tell the entire thing right there in church, including the part where the White Witch kills Aslan and you think he's dead but he's actually not because of this older magic and then he totally comes to life again. I kept waiting for someone in the congregation to stand up and say, "Hey! I'm flippin' taking my kids to see that tomorrow, could you not ruin it???" I bet some people wanted to.

It was WR's birthday on the 1st, so I gave him his presents and he really liked them. Also he wanted new jeans and I found a pair for 5 English Pounds because I am the best bargain shopper ever! (And possibly I was just in the right place at the right time during the after-Christmas sales, but still!)

Lowlights:

Was not, as you may have deduced from the highlights list, actually in Paris for New Year's Eve like I said I would be. This is my own fault, though, since I kind of killed it once we added up all the costs and the driving time and the crappy weather and some other things. I will get there, though, and it will be wonderful and we will eat crepes and dance down the streets and speak the francais to the francaise.

Am certain the morbid obesity will be settling in any time now. I will feel a rumble and look down to find my jeans ripping of my legs and my thighs lopping over the sides of my chair onto the floor.

So there you have it. Welcome, 2006! Let's try not to suck!

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Some updates...

There's some really interesting stuff at MetalStorm.com. Here are some:






And, here are some lines quoted from some Harry Potter Fan Fiction, Draco/Lucius pairing, in a story called Patris Est Filius.

"You are a Malfoy, Draco -- behave as one. And if I ever, ever find out you've disgraced me, or defiled yourself with such filth as the Potter boy again, you will be punished, and you will be sorry." Lucius paused, letting the threat hang ominously in the air, and Draco shivered, wrapping his arms around himself for elusive warmth. "Do you understand me?"

Never fails to make me shudder. But, I still heart the Malfoys. :P

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Fantasma, here I come.

I feel that my life just got better. I'll be working under Fantasma Magic. :P It'll be a brilliant job that I will definitely enjoy. So, do come down to Toys R Cuss and try finding me, and I might extort you into buying at least 10 items home. Heh. Nah, just kidding.

School's starting. And, I'm not at all concerned. Although, I want to go back on the 3rd to visit Mr Neo and Mr Mok for yet another engaging and sarcastic chat about All Things Life.

Thanks Merle for that fabulous Rammstein Live Aus Berlin DVD. Rammstein so rocks my world now, besides Cradle of Filth. I will remain firm on my devotion to Cradle of Filth.

Besides, I guess working as a magic demostrator will improve my skills in magic. Same goes for my flourishes too.

Bah... I am hungry.

Auf Wiedersehen!

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