Hooray new series of QI

I do adore Stephen. I have decided to grow up to be Stephen Fry.

I'm gonna have to walk home tomorrow. In the hot hot blazing wok of superheated oil that is Malaysian weather. Hmph. Oh well. I have my trusty blue umbrella. And shades. I am wearing shades. I don't care if I'm half blind in shades, my eyes will melt out of my orbits like so much vanilla, raspberry and chocolate icecream if I don't.

(On a positive note, my similes seem to be coming along :)

Oh yeah, I should go to the TLC to ask about the book review competition. Mmm. Shy laa. I am really ludicrously shy. Not even with good reason. I mean, surely they expect to be asked, if they hold the darn competition? Ugh.

What I really don't like about talking to strangers is the way people size you up immediately after meeting you. 'Specially on a bad hair/mood/face/sartorial day. You want to scream:"I'm not usually like this! I'm very collected! Seriously. Take my word for it. (I'm pretty trustworthy as well)."

I guess it's what everyone does, after all. And it's also why we spend gajillions each year on hair/face/body/other areas of flesh that no one but you sees anyway but you feel the need to be squeaky clean product.

(I have decided I like forward slashes. Forward slashes are good. And so is the other kind)

And I have tons of maths homework. TONS. And this is just the second week. And thank goodness my add maths was pretty decent, or I'd be struggling. I miss pn. Lam now :(. I know, I know. I love you, pn Lam (yeah, okay, maybe it's just nostalgia. But I do owe about 70% of my brilliance (hah!) in add maths to her lectures and scoldings. Motivation, you see).

Gonna go and sleep now. Or chat with some people.