Mum: There were all these flying foxes flying over the boat.
Viv: Wait, I thought flying foxes don't really fly, they just glide?
Holly: No, they fly, that's why they're called flying foxes.
Me: They're a kind of bat I think.
Holly: No, they're foxes.
Viv: I thought flying foxes are squirrels?
Me: That would be flying squirrels.
Car ride back to my place
Viv: Hooray! I'm going to see Trixie again! Oh trixie trixie! She's so cute, she's just like a little angel.
Claire: A blind angel that stinks.
Today is subject registration day, the day I have to tell the NTU system what I want to study for the next half a year and which time slots so they can tell me those time slots are full and stuff me in some ridiculously cruel timetable that starts at 8.30 and ends at 7pm, with 5-hour breaks in the middle that I will spend sitting forlornly at the CS benches pretending to study.
So since I got into the office (which was at about 12noon, because this morning I committed myself to doing this fantastic thing called wasting my life ie. lying in bed until my body felt like it was starting to 2become1 with my torn bedsheets, courtesy of Smokey.) I have been watching the little blue bar on the bottom of my computer screen tick away until 1.30 (the time to register) and then on past 1.30 to 2.26, where it stands now and in 4 minutes time I will lose any chance of going back to school this semester, which is exactly what I want but which is also exactly what I have not told my father yet. It is extremely nerve-racking, throwing my carefully planned future away, but I'm sure I will find another one soon.
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