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Author
The author is a paranoid, deranged and cynical misanthrope who records snippets of her life so that she will remember them when she grows old and withered. The identities of any names or initials on this blog are based on the assumptions of the reader unless otherwise specified, and the author claims no responsibility for them.
Reality
The author somehow got into medical school. Yes, you of the general public, shudder and fear the wrath of an inept doctor.
Loves
Reading, Maisy (my dog), tea, writing (albeit badly), piano, music, junk food.
Hates
Almost everything else besides the things mentioned above.
Friends
Bao Cheng' Bernice' Chien Young' Chun Hing' Claire' Faustina' Felicia' Ferly' Gloria' Irene' Irene & Jiaying' Jac' Jiamin' Jiasin' Jiaying' Lutheng' Karene' Marissa' Melesa' Mingyi' My fictionpress' Pamelia' Pei Rong' Qiu Ting' Rachel' Satires Site' Stasia' Sylvia' The Clique' Vinette' Wenjia' Xin Rong' Xue Ying' Yanne & I' Yanne & Jamie' Zeena' 203'
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Chat area
Sars just told me that Mrs Ng returned the LA essays today, and mine wasn't anywhere in sight. Well, if someone nicked it for me, please tell me ASAP and stop my heart from palpitating in anticipation of what happened to that old fart of my essay. Thanks!
Perhaps Mrs Ng didn't even bother to mark it, due to my incessant humorous, sardonic and cynical remarks that apparently conveyed the message that I wasn't serious about it. Well, I was actually just horsing around, as 1: I did it all for self-entertainment 2: Mrs Ng MADE me do it, humiliating me infront of the class when I was signing autograph books in a mad frenzy 3: to bring some humour to those around me when they saw Mrs Ng's remarks. Apparently, only the first 2 seemed to have gone with the plan... The last one went with the fart (a synonym of wind [break wind]), which is incidentally the same destiny that faced my essay.
I am supposed to do the planning of 2 advertisements for the English Assignment on 'Soap Operas'. No, they are not operas with bars of soap singing in them. Soap operas were once on the radio (not television. Television only came in about 1938 I think...) for old, dumpy housewives who had nothing better to do in the past. Seriously, I think that soap operas are the worst things that have come to television. All day long, you just see complicated relationships created to throw viewers off track, or allow them to flaunt about (as in that they are so smart, they are able to keep track of who loves who). Really sadly and unfortunately, my mom loves them, and I have such a hard time reading my books when she watches them, I just start twirling and ripping my hair out. It's no wonder that people think I suffer from a bad case of balding.
Fortunately, AMC today was much better than SMO, the latter of which I'd finished the paper in a mere impossible feat of half an hour. How did I ever do that? No, I did not become an immortal, nor possess poor Ms Lee to complete it for me, but I just moved my pencil around, closed my eyes, and darkened the circle of which my pencil landed on. Needless to say, I've passed it with stationary colours, and there's nothing more to that, than the fact that I'd get a certificate of participation for something I merely raised a finger (and pencil) to do so. I breezed through it with my eyes closed (literally).
Apparently, I did not want to set another record of the lowest ever score in AMC, after actually winning the prize money last year (yes, xr, you had to broadcast it last yr too...), and put more effort into it, though I had to resort to that same method as I had run out of time at the end. The teacher was staring at me as if I was a flying pig...
Oh well... I shall go soaring into the sky, since I am a flying pig... Wow.
8:24 PM