Tuesday, March 2, 2010

My blog wanderlust has struck (again). I'll be moving to a new place (again) because I got bored at posting here (again) and most of everyone knows that this is not an infrequent thing (hence the again(s).)

This time, I'll be moving to twooptions.wordpress.com.

Yeah, I'm giving wordpress another shot because now I have more time to tinker with it aimlessly, haha!


Past blogs:

- Nothingmessy2 has the memories of my first few semesters at The One Academy; meeting new friends and learning their eccentricities.

- Evemurmurs was about the six months between graduating from secondary school and entering The One Academy, during which I attempted lessons with Joe Hasham and Japanese.

- Onestorys for when I got bored with Nothingmessy 2.

Thursday, February 25, 2010

"The guard says you have a boyfriend."

The accusation hit me from left field and my fingers pause above the keyboard. In the background, a song is playing, its singers begging ironically for somebody to find them "Somebody to Love". I look over my shoulder at my nanny who is ironing clothes while watching Prime Time Wah Lai Toi. "Excuse me? Who?"

"The guard at your college."

Mr. Indian Mustache? I had no idea he even conversed with my nanny. "What did he say?"

"He says he saw you with some guy with green hair."

I blink a few times. "I'm sorry what?"

Here, she falters a little as she attempts to explain herself. English is not her best language. "Cur-reen..."

I'm still confused. I pick up one of my books with a green cover and point at it. "Green hair? I've never seen anyone with green hair before!" That's a lie. I have but that had been a girl and I'm pretty sure that's not who my nanny's referring to.

"Curry..." She start twirling the air with her pointer finger.

I laugh with realisation. "Oh, you mean curly!"

"Yes!" my nanny exclaims triumphantly. "The guard saw you hugging him!"

"I hug everyone," I deadpan.

She goes slack-jawed with horror. "How could you?! You don't go around hugging just anyone!" She harrumphs righteously and settles back into her ironing and I turn back to my work. If only she knew...

Monday, February 22, 2010

I'm certain she hates me. I've been plaguing her with emails since day one and at the moment, she might be regretting ever offering me a place in their college. That's why when I finally meet her, I'm so not going to tell her my real name. She might've created a filter to screen my emails at this point.

Thursday, February 18, 2010

The bedroom door is half-broken. It means that it only works half the time while the other half, I am either struggling to let myself out of the room or someone else is trying to barge their way in. It's funny until I realise that I might one day end up under inconsequential house - err, room arrest, and my only regret will be that my Seriously Delicious half-eaten cheeseburger will be going to waste in the fridge. (yea, foodslut)

Now excuse me while I go and write a 1000-word report on emotional labour and its significance in job context. Seems like a huge leap from painting in acrylic and doing figure drawings just two weeks ago, huh? Yea, I don't know how I got here either.

Saturday, January 9, 2010

Zombie Horde Totally Looks Like Twilight Fangirl Horde
see more Celeb Look-A-Likes

russell totally looks like russel from up
see more Celeb Look-A-Likes

Thursday, January 7, 2010

Productiveness level: @#$%! <---messed up my gesso

Quite the number of us wore black to class today. It was very reminiscent of the time when people wore black to show their disapproval with the whole Perak issue. Aaron and I had made a pact to wear all black for the fun of it (ignorant, we were) and got ribbed none too gently by Marion the Maverick.

However, today the elevated presence of black merely pulled giggles as one by one, all us black folk lined up to collect our Wacom tablets to start work.
funny-face-book-osama


facebook-fail-john-milfs


funny-face-book-han-solo


funny-face-book-solo-wookie


facebook-fail-bill-gates


funny-facebook-salmon-ella


funny-facebook-unclejenn