FINE.

Okay, I have promised a few people that I will try to write something and so I shall, just so the next time you check this website when you're dead bored and desperate for excitement, I will be able to say IN YOUR FACE.

*Happily watches Project Runway for the next hour.

Hooray for pretty dresses! Okay. Project Runway always makes me want to rush out and start sewing, just as, I suppose, Next Top Model makes me want to rush out and start exercising, and The Bachelor makes me want to rush out full stop. But really, about the sewing, does anyone know how to sew well? Or do you know anyone else who knows how to sew well? Because I want to be taught, you know, having so much free time to boast what with 4 part time jobs and school and piano and driving.

I wonder if it really is possible to achieve everything you could possible want to achieve. I think not, really, although I have achieved many things I used to think would never happen, like sitting at Les' place writing in my journal while he composed music in the next room, and actually making good money for writing. If you do read this, dear friend several months away, please comment and tell me 5 things you'd like to achieve by the end of your life, and then maybe call me and offer to buy me lunch. That would be nice.

I would like to be able to 1) play music in front of other people without having a nervous breakdown, 2) have one boy and one girl child without having to have 10 boys in a row first, 3) sew my own clothes, 4) live in a house overlooking many, many trees, and 5) er, play golf well? Not sure about 5.

My mum keeps asking questions out loud to people, and I keep thinking she means me, only to find that she's talking to someone else. It's very off-putting and embarrassing, considering I always respond like so:

Mum: Hey, you want some bread?
Me :YES!
Holly: She was talking to me.

Mum: Hey, you want some apple -
Me: YES!
Mum: - Holly?

Mum: Hey, you want some dessert?
Me: YES, DAMNIT!
Mum: *Continues looking at Papa expectantly.

I am sensing a pattern!

Hooray for Pokka Lemon Tea!

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.