Oops. I just realised I still have this ol’ abandoned blog up. It wasn’t until recently someone asked me why wasn’t I blogging anymore.
Sorry guys, in case you didnt notice, I’ve switched channels loong time ago. Hop over here if you wanna catch me 
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www.crimsonmaverick.blogspot.com
Au revoir, World of Rachel!
Chang Weng, the flour sifter.
It started out oh-so-clean…..
Vivian hard at work.
Shyt on Alex’s hands.
Spiderwoman.
The first batch (trial and error)
Anyway, we had a shit fight in between. Mind you, not flour or egg fight, but shit fight. Shit flew everywhere, it’s a wonder my mum didn’t come in and get a heart attack and faint right in the middle of all the shit mixture on the floor. Once sobered, we continued our work. And proud to say, the shit slowly becomes less….shitty, and more like what we first expected it to be – Chocolate mixture. Finally….hallelujah praise the Lord!!!!! And, everyone tasted and tested them, no one’s sick or down with poisioning…HALLELUJAH MORE!!
It wasn’t supposed to turn out like this…it looks and smells terrible.
How it got there, it was indeed a mystery to all. So well, we continued our mixing, stirring, pounding, squeezing, icing, decorating etc till 8pm, with frequent trips to the bakery store nearby to restock our ingredients. Man, we seriously wasted a lot during the trial and error part. Many went to the dustbin. No way we were feeding people yucky stuff. Sigh. Still, we perfected it, and that’s what matters the most. It’s pretty funny seeing the guys actually trying to look professional, yet failing miserably tee heee!! Women’s predominant skill – baking, it shall stay so forever. Though I admit, I have to work on this infant-stage skill of mine. I might someday start a baking empire as huge as Secret Recipe and name it Rachel’s Recipe (RR). Nice ring to it indeed. There I go again, my dream cloud. Our masterpiece….VOILA!! Anyway, for lunch, we had pizzas on the floor which seems both unhealthy and pathetic. Unhealthy – junk food part. Pathetic – sitting on the floor part. Ok, it was me suggesting sitting on the floor coz no way we could venture out of the dining hall while smuggling greasy food in our hands without getting caught by my mum, and our entire hall was in a mess. But it somewhat was like a picnic, difference is that it’s indoors. Do I look like some mamak teh-tarik lady or wut? 8pm, poor Chang Weng and Alex were still staying back and helping me do the final touches and the clean up. Vivian was so floured up she had to run into my wardrobe and change into one of my clothes, and Thanesh…well, he still looks the same as how when he just arrived. Lol, that guy could survive a hippopotamus stampede and still look as cool as before. He could be the Brylcream spokesperson – Still Standing. Lucky pig, nyeah! Cleaning up
The Mess.
Smile, and say "MURRIN!"
I take pleasure in pain. For example, this little burn I got today on my arm has somehow turned pretty nasty, and I just can’t stop squeezing it till the flesh is all exposed and it’s a raw reddish colour. I blame it on the hot soup. Too bad, my dad made me put on a band aid, to *morphing into my dad’s voice* "prevent bacteria infection and from leaving a scar".
So anyway, there’s this new movie which is Rachel-rated as pretty cool. Ocean 13. Though it was pretty funny, Jess was the only one who fell asleep in the movie. The other 4 didn’t. The last time she and I did that was….during the Banquet movie? Lolz. Though there sure are some glitches and interesting stuff in that movie. Like, one part where Brad stares at the window which somehow has the reflection of the camera, or the fact that you cant rip a fake nose off a real nose without peeling off some skin (I’ve tried that, but not nose), and there’s a line by Ocean which sounds alot like a line in the Godfather, and then Brad doesn’t really act in this film. He just sorta……stands there in his cool suit and sunglasses and glides through the movie. I guess it’s his job to look nice in there.
Yet, I like it. Dream cloud appears…..~How nice if Stephen casts me in his next sequel Ocean 14(if there IS one), as some hot red-headed (dyed) cat thief in tight latex who then teams up with the eleven hot hunks of men who would assist me in some hot heist, living in some huge mansion and having Daniel Ocean, Rusty Ryan and Linus Caldwell turning enemies and killing each other for me. Then, I’d secretly poison them all and they all die and everything’s willed to me……~
But the car next to us just bulldozed the poor dog over.
Boy, I screamed so much I could put the Queen of Banshees out of job.
And it was the poor dog’s loud yelpings that rang all night in my head and kept me wide awake till 3am, thinking that I should’ve done sth. The car didn’t stop. Neither did Dad. I tried, but he said it’s the main road and I’m being pretty outta my mind asking him to do a 180 deg turn right on the spot back to the poor dog. It’s no James Bond movie.
I wish the dog’s dead. That was pretty a hard hit. And yelpings indicated that the dog’s NOT dead. It was still alive. And probably is, just badly wounded and dying. God, let it die. Why didn’t that car just pull over and check on the dog?? Now, IF I were the one driving instead of my dad…..
So that was the "traumatic beyond traumatisation" story which I owe some of you out there.
How bout the "pissed beyond pissation" story? Ok, I gotta mind my words a bit here. Wouldn’t wanna spend my life in jail for just a spurr of the moment anger.
So this dude whom I’ve never chatted before or even noticed his presence in my msn contact list suddenly im-ed me and said "ap bt msa ni".
That time, I seriously had no idea what that meant. I thought it was some sort of cryptic message, so i just asked "what does that mean?"
The next thing I know, I had the F word staring at me in the face, with some other words which I could not decipher either, but I got the idea that he was actually typing in a known language and those supposed cypted codes were just, short forms. He actually said what kind of a person I am who don’t even understand his language. OK. I had it.
What pissed me off the most was that he just went and said the F word as easily as saying "apple". Dude, go wash your mouth and then come back to me k? Or better, stay away. I DO know your language, but I don’t know your lingo and don’t you expect me to. I don’t expect YOU to know my mother tongue, do I? I don’t even know why he’s so rude towards a 101% blurred girl who’s trying to get over car-hit-dog-shock asking a normal question, and the fact that we’re both chatting in different languages seem to bother him, and also that I have no idea who he was. Sod it, I was PISSED BEYOND PISSATION!!
Okay, I’m calm. I see an amber-coloured face girl staring at me in the mirror. No use getting heated up over it again.
So that’s tat. One hell of a Saturday night.
Today’s not that bad, though. Ok, so I couldn’t squeeze into 2 packed halls to see Hillsongs, sad really. but I did get to have dinner with Thanesh Wee Kiat Jeremy May Jonathan Benjamin Leslie in some restaurant I’d like to visit again. Wait, make that 2 dinners. I had another with my parents. Mum’s home today from Shanghai, yipee!! And I have 2 new novels waiting for me upstairs. Yum….
Top 10 List Why Xuan Hong Should Not Leave Methodist College.
10. RAPE and NEAR RAPE cases associated with that University X you’re going to. Who knows, young little innocently naive cute Xuan Hong would some day become prey to some vicious sex-addicted BRUTE, without Rachel’s protection and peper spray, then lose your um…..V. NOOOOOOOOOOoOOOOOOooo……
9. Maths lecturer would miss you so so much that he would mourn everyday, stop eating, stop sleeping, shed more hair (i don’t think he has enough hair to shed anyway), and stop teaching us maths, then the whole Beta class would FAIL our maths paper. Basically, he’d just stop living and die, and we’ll all end up getting flogged by our parents for failing maths. THANKS TO YOU.
8. No one would beat Justin in ping pong anymore. Nor in maths. No one could beat him except you. You’re the ONLY ONE!! You’re THE MAN!!! (wait, you’re a girl.)
7. I have one person less to slap and scratch and torment when I’m laughing, bored, angry or in pain. Think how pitiful Alex, Shuxin and Vivian would be if you leave them to divide your share of duty.
6. Alex would for sure turn broody and mourn for at least 1 month over you leaving, which is soooo not good for me, coz I’ll then turn broody and probably we’ll end up fighting non stop, and Vivian would become the FLAT ham-meat (hint hint). Poor little girl being squashed between us both, it’s BAD for her growth, you know.
5. We’ll miss your annoyingly-girlish squeeEeEe-al, even though they give me goosebumps.
4. Datynne N would have one person less to do her beloved testimonial writing (though come to think of it, it IS a good thing for us, right? She’d save ink, have more energy to concentrate on our testimonials.)
3. You’d miss out on all the "Mr. L and Vivian L’amour" love drama episode reports that we’re all so used to follow up everyday in classes.
2. That University X that you’re going to has no one by the name Rachel Nge Sing Wei in it.
1. I’ll FREAKING MISS YOU EVERYDAY, LIKE CRAZY!!!!!
Top 10 List Why Jessie Lim Should Not Leave Kuala Lumpur.
10. Perlis is like, FULL of icky muddy paddy fields. Come on, you’re a KL GIRL. Someone who doesn’t even know what CARROT is in Malay. A girl who is willing to sit beside a TONG SAMPAH during marathon run with us 3 soh poh-s fanning you. P for Perlis = P for Paddy fields. (that’s what the form 3 geography book says.)
9. Perlis > Paddy fields > Water > Mosquito Larvaes > Dengue. If you get dengue, you’d be like one dead vegetable. Then your parents and I would need to waste $$ to buy last-minute flight tickets to see you.
8. HELP would have one genius short. Your name would not be on the HELP’s honorary board (do you guys have those?) Instead, your name would be on the honorary board of some Perlis school where not one of your friends, 12 future children, 66 grandkids and 495 great-grandkids would ever have the chance to see.
7. Your sister would take over your room, rip all your Lee Hom posters, pee and poop on your bed without you knowing it, and destroy ALL THE PRESENTS I GAVE YOU???!?! OH MY GAWD YOU HAVE TO PACK AND BRING EVERY SINGLE PRESENT I’VE EVER GIVEN YOU THERE WITH YOU!! YOU READ ME???
6. My psychie senses tell me that Wang Lee Hom would be coming soon for the FINAL time to KUALA LUMPUR (only place). And when he comes, he’ll go, "Ahem…yoyoyo da jia hao wazup ya’ll(i think i heard him once talking like that on TV..Oh I dunno, anyway..)I would like to meet this gorgeous cute fan of mine whom I met last visit here…I think her name’s Jessica, or Jaycee…Anyone knows her? Please ask her to contact me ASAP before I leave for Hong Kong. I’d like to offer her a job in my promo tour crew as my PM.." It would be like, your DREAM COME TRUE! And where would you be? Perlis. How ass-kickin it would be if you would be stuck in Perlis STAHDYING when LEE HOM’S here. Not a risk you’d like to take, huh?
5. You’re soooo gonna miss this year’s carnival, especially the fried ice cream. How on earth are you gonna find a freaking FRIED ICE CREAM in the middle of a freakin PERLIS??
4. I am turning 18 in 2 months time. For the FIRST time in 5 YEARS, I’m not gonna be able to celebrate my birthday with my bestbutt???? OUTRAGEOUSLY UNHEARD OF!!!! ME, Rachel Nge aka your best friend?? Turning 18 is like, pretty much important as hearing your son’s first "Momma" word. And you’re gonna miss it. Ugh.
3. I am having a headache now. It might develop into a migrain. In 3 weeks time, I would be down with fever and blood-vomitting, and sleep-walking. In 3 months time, I might be comatose. In less than 6 months, I might be D.E.A.D. And you’ll only get to know about it when you recieve a bloody-red invitation to my F U N E R A L.
2. You ======== 1000000 KM ========= ME.
1. I AM SO GONNA FREAKING HATE MISSING YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!
It’s awful you know, having your 5 years buddy THREE STATES apart from you, and having your close pal suddenly getting up in the middle of lunch break and saying "HEY, I’M LEAVING FOR UNIVERSITY X!! GOODBYE!!STAY HAPPY 4EVER!!(happy forever, my foot).
Bottomline is : I’M SO GONNA MISS YOU BOTH NINCOMPOOPS!!!!!
PS :It’s not too late changing your mind de…. 
anyway, do take care yeah? Stay alive. I love u!!
A friend of mine showed this article to me, while contemplating his own suicidal death. Pretty good reference, if you ask me. Yo dude, it’s so not worth it. And you’ll be leaving us behind if you do. What happened to all the "yao yi hei-ness" huh?? Chin’s up k? We’re here for you. Life is short, so you don’t need to make it shorter.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
If you’ve been a little depressed lately and have contemplated partaking in the bliss of death, here are a couple of cool ways to kill yourself. Even if you don’t use these exclusive royalty-free methods, remember to do it as creatively as possible. Don’t be boring and just take sleeping pills — go out with style and flare. All these methods require some planning but don’t let that dissuade you. Your life must be pretty pathetic if you’re killing yourself. Why not leave a legacy?
Jumping
Here are a couple of great ways to kill yourself by jumping off a tall building or cliff or basically anything really high. The thing about these is that they generally work best if you can get a big crowd watching before you jump. Don’t do it when there is no one around. There’s just no bloody point in that.
Explosives Strapped to Your Body
Difficulty level: 7
Falling through Chain Saws
Difficulty level: 10
This is much more difficult to pull off. Instead of explosives, the money shot is you falling though three or four operating chain saws. You do not need as high a building for this — anything above three stories will do. Remember to use the vaseline-gasoline mixture. That’s the ingredient that adds pizzazz.
Bullet in Your Head
Difficulty level: 1
HAMMER a bullet into your skull. Make sure there is an empty gun nearby but do not fire it (a gun that has never been fired works best in this situation). Bash the bullet into your frontal lobe. It doesn’t matter how you get it done it will perplex the authorities for years and you will, most assuredly, be a hot news topic. Hell, you want fame in death to rival the obscurity you had in life don’t you?
Death by Hairball
Difficulty level: 3
Get a cat or a dog and brush it every day. Save the hair until you have a giant hairball. Plug up your nose then shove the hairball into your mouth.
Leave a cryptic note about how you believe little Fluffy or Rover was planning to kill you in your sleep.
Meat Grinder
Difficulty level: 11
Find a sausage making company that has a giant meat grinder. Set up a hidden video camera to tape your death. Leave a will with explicit instructions that it not be read until one year after the night of your grinding. In it, detail the way you died and the location of the hidden camera.
Sneak in at night naked and turn on the video camera. Climb into the grinder and take massive amounts of pills of your choice. Make sure it is enough to kill you.
In the morning you will be ground up and made into sausages. One year later your will, will be read to the news media and people all around the nation will vomit simultaneously.
Drown in Your Own Urine
Difficulty level: 8
Get a huge vat or possibly an above ground pool. Save all your urine. Drown yourself in it. Put a note on the side of the pool saying, "MY URINE."
This method would work for any body fluid: vomit, snot, dooty. For you despondent guys out there: A vat of your own sperm would be truly impressive. You will have to get some viagra and work frantically for years, but what else have you got to do?
Pop into alt.binaries.erotica.bestiality, get the vibrator out and get crackin’. Remember, do something really weird and original, something that will tell them you are/were special.
Make a Political Statement
Difficulty level: 5
The abundance of media outlets these days has afforded a nearly infinite number of ways to relay your message of doom and despair while consequently minimizing the impact. No longer can you be assured a sizable audience for the ranting and pontificating that so often accompany political/ecological/religious movements.
"Oh, whatever can I do?!" you may be wailing. "The world is coming to an end. Death and despair loom on the horizon. [Insert your hated adversary's name here] is the embodiment of evil. He/she/they/it is/are/will be the antichrist/destruction of us all/black death come to haunt us/etc."
"How can I get my cause the attention it deserves?" you ask. The answer is simple: A futile pointless violent act displayed to millions on the evening news.
Chop Your Own Head Off While Standing Next to a Major World Leader
Assisted Suicide
Sometimes you need help. Sometimes it takes a committee. Some of the many ways of suicide are just too complicated to do alone. These are perfectly valid routes to bliss and will not taint, in any way, your death.
Death by Seinfeld
Difficulty level: 9
Find a strong burly friend that will help you. Then find Jerry Seinfeld. Have your strong burly friend pick up Seinfeld and beat you to death with him.
Later Jerry will make a tv show out of it or maybe it will just end up in his act. "So I said, Hey! Who are these people that pick up other people and beat other people to death with them?"
Plug ‘Em Up
Difficulty level: -1
Get a lot of ten-ton epoxy to seal any and all body openings. Wait a while. Explode.
A Pun Death
Difficulty level: 3
Take five large steaks. Rub them all over your body and stuff what remains into every pocket and orifice you can find. Tape at least one steak inside your clothing directly to your body. Find one large hungry grizzly bear. Taunt it till it comes to a full boil, attacks, and kills you.
Dying this way, at the paws of a grizzly bear, will allow the tabloid newspapers and daily tv news shows to use the headline "Grizzly Death!" repeatedly.
Intest You Intest Me
Difficulty level: 4
Sometimes you want to do something violent and bloody but you just don’t have the wherewithal to assemble a cache of assault weapons. This method is simple and convenient for those on limited budgets.
End the Holiday Madness
Difficulty level: 6
Anyone with half a brain hates the Thanksgiving to Christmas season. There is too much family. Too many happy annoying people demanding things from you. Too much forced joy specials on television. And WAY too many repetitions of songs you’ve been listening to since childhood.
The only way to escape this recurring nightmare is to:
(Frm a1b2c3)
God this 2 legs of mine are killin me!
I wonder how those ladies go for feet massage and yet ENJOY them. - If I were them, I’d pick those masseurs in their faces and break their teeth.
I wonder how those acrobats let themselves be thrown about in the air by their legs. - If I were them, I’d scream and the acrobats would let go off me and I’d drop drop 50 feet down to the ground. Tragic death.
I wonder how those couples erm…..play footsie, make love in bed, or just do something as simple as petting each other’s legs affectionately. - If I were them, I’d probably kick the guy in the gonads, causing permanent infertility, or paralysed with my extreme back-slapping-which-collegemates-and-old-KBfriends-are-oh-so-used-to if my husband or bf even dare to look at my legs.
Seriously, what is wrong with me? Or should I say, my legs?? It’s like there’s extra receptors on my legs. Heck, my arms are like, totally immuned to pain. Like taking Shanon whipping my arms for like 1 minute straight, ended up backing off and calling me a freak for not feeling much pain. Yet, these 2 legs of mine goes bazooka with just the lightest touch. For 5 years, I’ve been given attempted cure remedies by everyone. Let’s see, Jessie trying out her soothing stroke skill which ended up me screaming my head off in the hall like some pregnant cat giving birth; Vivian attacking me in Mr. L’s car which ended up with a 100000000dB screech which nearly punctured poor Mr. L’s eardrums.
Sth’s terribly wrong. And I can’t live with it for the rest of my life. Help. Me.
The Ambulance I fell in love with..especially it’s siren and horn.
Dr. Rachel n Dr. Alex.
Bio-hazardous
Alex drinking unknown liquid
Trying on the machine which I don’t know how to operate
Blood test, with me doing it all wrong ( I didn’t even try to find the vein)
X-Ray
How on earth could we test our eyes without having someone to help us test it?
Lab work.
Operation on casualty……
….And he died.
Ju-On reincarnated.
A smiling corpse…eek!
Booooooo………
Pumping imaginary blood. 
<This is exactly how I feel now.
No joke. I’m on the verge of a nuclear meltdown and there’s nothing except pizzas and my mum’s birthday cake to cool me down. And seriously, there’s no difference.
I’m. Dying.
I’ve seen other fellow comrades’ blogs, all with the same lamentations about tomorrow’s so-called judgement day. The jitters, nausea, flushed or pale complexions, our miogenic hearts overpumping themselves, sweaty palms…all these seem to come under a package with a big stamp labelled " SPM RESULTS SYMPTOMS".
My gosh, less than 14 hours. LESS THAN 14 HOURS!!!!!
LESS THAN FOURTEEN FREAKING HOURS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Those seniors who are past this stage, probably you’re snickering and rolling your eyes or whatever, but it’s unavoidable that we need to go through this stage. Yeah, heard loads that " it doesnt matter….sap sap water…..easy peasy….can de la… bla bla bla". But seriously, it does matter. Alot. Dad mum, no matter whatever you say(and i appreciate it loads), I still mind. To be honest with myself, it’s the ego which matters i guess. That’s the problem with myself. I set expectations for myself which sometimes are hard to achieve. Then if I don’t, I throw a fit, moan all day, stay extremely quiet like a hermit crab in its shell and pout. Can’t help it. That’s me. But then, I rebound fast.
Though, I’m not so sure about this time. I mean, S. P. M. It’s SPM. Not some stupid contest I’ve entered just for the sake of trying my luck. Not some school test. Not some long sonatina which I try learning by heart to impress ppl. Not taking my undang test which can be retaken any time, not trying to bake a cake and failing miserably and burning the entire thing, which could be dumped and rebaked….
This is SPM. Relax seems an easy word, aint it? Try saying that to a guy who’s being chased by a raging hippopotamus. It’ll be just like saying it to us. Freakin scared.
Pointless, you might say? Yeah, I totally agree with you. " I mean, what the heck? Worrying can’t change the results! It’s there already! It’s simply stupid to worry about it." Yeah, Stupid. I AM STUPID. Stupid enough to worry about such things when I have worse matters to think about. Like, I have 2 tests coming up which I have not touched. Tons of homework lying around waiting for me to finish. Moral T shirts to paint. My cyclone-hit room to clean up. My dinner to eat. Yet, I can’t do anything. I’m like a human vegetable, totally empty with just the sickening feeling that my heart would suddenly give in and stop beating anytime.
I’ve already done plenty of things today to destress myself. Went for my undang test, chopped off my hair, ran around screaming at my brothers, finished half of my mum’s birthday cake, watched Borat and his ass-kissing scene (as prescribed by the 5 malao gang), bathed 3 times, played warcraft, watched Speed 2, and typed this blog. Not doing any good. Still ditto condition.
God is there. I know it. Yet, I can’t feel his presence. Ashamed as I may be, I gotta admit that I’m really spiritually low. I feel like a hypocrite. I am a Christian, who has work to be done for Him. Yet, inside, I feel all rotten. Previous experiences have taught me that I’m not forsaken by God, but humans are like that. No matter how many times you go through the same thing, you’ll never learn. I need to feel God’s warmth now, else I’ll freeze to death.
Regard this blog as a total crap entree. Nothing worth reading. It’s just a stress outlet for me. Bottomline is, I’m scared.
But then, tat’s me. Rachel. Like it or not, I HAVE to worry. It’s me. Besides, I hope for the best, and expect the worst.
Imagine, I’ve been stuck here in Sabah and Miri for more than a week. I’m going crazy. I need my normal dosage of my normally-crazy life back in KL. I need it. Right now.
I want to go back to college and worry over stupid tests, to yak till I drop with Viv, to squabble with Alex till I turn red in the face, to eat Mc Donalds till I puke, to run for the train, to mess up my room, to wrestle with Timmy and have him drooling over me, to crank up my stereo. I want KL. Not to say staying here for a while isn’t a good thing. I mean, it’s not really. It is. But not all. Just some. I think. Point is, here, I don’t have friends to make me go ballistic; I don’t have a wall to separate me from my brothers (living in the same room with them for over a week is not really good for my health); having to sit and talk and act polite and smile at every single one; no one to laugh till I cry with; no Alex to hiss at; no decent place to sit and online in peace; no room to mess up; no Viv to give me heart attacks; no PHONE to yak on; no Timmy. All I eat everyday is…proper food. No fast food allowed(mum’s house rule #31). Normally, I can sneak fast food before i reach home. Now, I’m like being eyed 24/7. Like this morning, I can’t even get myself a Sprite!! Sth about being too toxicated by all the junk food during CNY.
Oh, but one thing about here which I love : The Crabs. I have a thing for crabs. I LOVE crabs. Almost as much as I hate C*****. Day before yesterday, we went to the seaside market and picked some crabs. Well, 10 of them. So I was given the task of cleaning the crabs icky stuff. Ended up me dancing and boogy-ing with one particularly cute crab to the song "My Humps" playing on my mp3 before throwing them all into hot boiling water, boiled alive. And all the while, I didn’t notice my grandma gawking at me through the window, probably feeling that her grandaughter has gone slightly insane, dancing with a crab. So I finished 5 crabs, and It was good..so so good. Then yesterday, we went for dinner with Aunt Matti Uncle Peter and their family in some posh restaurant. There’s this crab dish with hot sauce. While trying to break a pincher’s shell, somehow a piece of the crab’s shell flew and hit me straight in the eye, with hot sauce splattered over me. Seriously, I never have any problems peeling and eating crabs. Till that night. Seriously, the crab was taking revenge on me. For tryin to eat them. Stupid crabs.
And, I love the seaside. Went sunbathing and water-splashing. But too bad. Whenever we get as far as ankle deep, mum starts hollering at us about jelly-fishes and sting-rays and Steve Irwin. Total bummer.
Ok, I’m bored. I’ve packed already, I’ve eaten so much I’ve gained 1kg (yay!!!!!), and gotten 2 pimples (my gosh..). I’m ready to go home. So we’re having this last supper tonight, then tomorrow going back. Au revoir!
Oh PS : I just found out my parents went for marriage counselling. As in, "you are married people who wants to learn how to communicate." Unbelievable. Totally unbelievable. Oh nothing wrong with them. I’ve never seen any other parents more….mushier than them. But somehow, they’ve got the idea of attending this marriage counselling course which trains them up as mini-shrinks. My Gosh. And here, they have a daughter who says " TAK NAK KEPADA MARRIAGE!"
