This is so frustrating. Friendster ought to have this blog option since eons ago. Now I’ve got blog posts enough to fill an introductory microeconomics textbook lounging away in Multiply cyberspace (if you want to know all and sundry about wat went on in my life pre-August 26 then go to http://thevalleygirl.multiply.com/journal. Some of you will prolly tell me to quit complaining and just stick to multiply or shut up about it. I know I’m thinking it.
After agonizing over what to stick up there as my blog title, I’ve decided to fall back on the songs I love, hence ‘18 til I die’ by Bryan Adams tops the list. ‘Bless The Broken Road’ by Rascal Flatts was second in consideration, but it does sound a wee bit depressing at times. I did also consider ‘I Wanna Be… (Your Underwear)’ by Bryan Adams, but I figured it’s not a 21 year old-ish thing to do. Yeah I noe, wats the biggie about turning 21; I never really thought it mattered til mom commented that I am becoming more mature (edwina pls do not choke on your lasagna or watever andrew cooks for dinner over there in USA, and btw I will get to you later on in my post). Hey, it’s big ok, this coming from a mom who almost always opens her mouth to nag, and to say ‘good job but you can do better’ when you come home with a report card topping the class. Since then, I’ve become more aware of the so-called status, and trying to act accordingly whenever mom’s around. (edwina, shut your damn mouth.. btw edwina is my younger sis, but I usually address her as ‘Oi’)
Jason says I’m exactly like any eldest sibling (he made similar strong comparisons to his brother), so FULL of themselves sometimes, talking self-importantly non-stop even though the WHOLE WORLD has heard how they managed to succeed at this and that a THOUSAND freaking times before. And what makes it worse (and i think ‘Oi’ would agree with this), the parents always listen and get impressed by wat the said elder sibling squaks, squawks (gosh my spelling sucks). It gets shittier when the kakak/abang is like a damn overachiever, making the younger one seriously contemplate MURDER. I shall not try to desist, instead I plead guilty. (how can I not, since its so damn obvious?)
I think that’s why my sis is seriously thinking of baking cakes for a living. I’ve already chosen the high-flying, jet-setting corporate cannibal route of an investment banker.(working towards it, lah) I expect she will outshine me in the cake-baking section (the ones she makes are yummy), while the only thing I know how to cook is the books. No, I’m joking. In this hyped era of corporate governance, uttering that sentence even as an attempt at a lame joke, is tantamount to corporate suicide. I just prepared 3 sets of CVs to be sent to CIMB, ABN AMRO, and CSFB today, after attending a talk by the Manager of Corporate Finance CIMB today. Posting them off tomorrow and lets all hope I can get an internship at any one of them. I can expect everyone’s lives will be easier if I do some work during the hols end of this year. Jason will not have me in his hair, mom can still maintain her clean house, the maid won’t have to wash my clothes, and my friends won’t be forced to listen to me complain that I have nothing to do.
There was a pretty big storm in our small teacup of a Student Association today, and I’m sure about 10 people on my Friendster page will know what it is. For sensitivity reasons, I will not disclose anything except to say that "As again, I always have to be the bad guy. The orang jahat who has to pull rank and get people back in line, though its no fault of mine." Hish.
Tomorrow’s Sengwei’s birthday and i think another thingie at The Loft is planned again. I shudder to remember the last time at The Loft, where there was this weirdo staring at Grace and I. Maybe he was just looking at Grace and I was the interference from his point of view, but whatever. I still don’t know if I can make it yet, got other commitments.
I’m currently making my way through a huge packet of Dairy Milk Chocettes that the Cadbury promotion ppl presented FREE to me that day. I think it’s stress eating. Oh no. I know one girl who is currently starving herself to get into a smaller size dress for the Ball, and here is the low-metabolism me, still gobbling like there’s no tomorrow. But hey, I don’t care. I don’t want memories of my past to be filled with foodless days a la an African starvation documentary. I will not conform to society’s ideal image of a perfect slim body, and will maintain my normal eating habits (to me: a mini packet of m n m’s a day is normal). Burn your bras, girls.
This is getting too long for a first post. I think what Zen said about me is true. I am too long-winded and I talk TOO MUCH. Remember the aforementioned eldest sibling syndrome? Haha. Anyway I feel a sick spell coming on, must take some panadol to get those germs busted.
