Ever handed yourself out on that silver platter you polished yourself, hoping for the best, only to have you returned in a rusty tin that you never wanna escape?

If you've never been in that position, good for you. You must be tall, handsome, charming, smart, and a lovely man through and through. In which case, I'd like your telephone number. Or you're (also) tall, skinny, beautiful, possess a cheery personality and might be the ideal girl next door/sex bomb. No, I wouldn't like your phone number even if I do know 5000 people who would.

It almost seems like spilling the beans to someone you have feelings for should be an art. There should be guidebooks on this in the self-help section, not the books on low GI diets that people quote despite not understanding a single word, even if people would probably never summon the guts to walk down that aisle in their local bookstore. There are so many Dos and Don'ts that you've heard of, so many that you spend time listing down yourself, committing them to memory, hoping to G-d you don't slip up that day. That dreaded day. Or maybe, that wonderful day.

You plan. You're nervous. You wish there was a way out. More often than not, you have no bloody idea how she/he is going to react, and aren't you just terrified? You glare at friends who urge you on, silently thinking, you're not me. You're not the one who has to bare your heart, and hope that maybe there is a happy route somewhere, ready for you to take. Or that she wouldn't force a smile, feed you off with a lousy excuse, and then proceed to ignore you for the rest of your life. But that's obviously not what you need to focus on now.

The script is written in your head, and you want it to go as planned. No spontaneous dialogues, please, thanks. But what the hell will happen that day, might of course take a completely 180.

Everyone loves fireworks!! :)

Oh, come on. Who can resist pretty colours decorating the sky?!



Be grateful Trinity took most of the pictures. I have shaky hands that do not coordinate well with my Nikon. Pictures I took turn out like this:



Though you gotta admit, the effect is pretty damn cool. Like squiggly lines, hehe.



These fireworks happen during the annual Riverfestival and they last for a whole half an hour. I think that's longer than any other I've caught, as far as I can remember. They were definitely longer than KLCC/Bintang Walk's New Year ones, though I can't remember how long the LA Disneyland ones went.



And I love this shot best!



The babes I went with. Yes, you can shut up about the shaky hands. That actually helped to erase that dude who is really blurry at the back of the girls that jumped in just when I was taking a picture. What's up with fucktards like that?



I like pretty nights. :)

Ooh, I'm hoping to catch 'The Devil Wears Prada' next Thursday. Reckon that'll be any good? The book was not too bad.

The 'working lady' (courtesy of Averdim) is off to work now. ;)

sapphira says:
how have u been?
merv -   says:
been crazy lol
merv -   says:
yourself?
sapphira says:
tired
sapphira says:
lol
merv -   says:
lol join the club. we're giving out free tshirts to all tired members
sapphira says:
i want, i likeeee
merv -   says:
ok! you're in! but we're too tired to send you a shirt

**** Kena ripped off sial ****

Last night: I thought it was gonna be great to watch Sepet (for the 6th time, lol), but there were a few girls sitting behind us who were laughing during the saddest scene. WTF wei? Tau tak maksud 'potong stim'?!

Today: Two hour tutorial at uni on statistics. Doesn't that spell 'I will bore the crap out of you'? Then, late night shopping. Because I haven't shopped in fucking ages and I feel deprived. I likeee my retail therapy.

Tomorrow: One hour tutorial, then work from 2 till possibly 11 pm. This is where I shoot myself watching other people gorge on my kind of therapy. Bitches.

Saturday: Markets in the morning because maybe buying more things to stuff into my freezer and fridge will encourage me to not dine out and spend more money. Then again, I'm eating out tonight. Working after that for maybe another 8 hours. I know I lead such an enviously glamorous life. Well, it's not my fault I couldn't get tickets for Merdeka Nite!

Sunday: MY TIME! Or not. I agreed to meet up with my friends from boarding, and somehow, I arranged so that I'll take whoever wants to go, including Grade 6ers who might look angelic and eat me alive.

Woe. is. me.

Oh wait, I get paid tomorrow!

And Starbucks**!

It's all rainbows, butterflies, strawberries and sunshine now. :)

** I'm the embodiment of what globalisation does to people. So?

I've got Internet! It's dial-up till about next week, probably, but who gives a mackerel?! It's Internet, yay! In the meantime, you have no idea how shocked I was to see 'Dialing' while I was connecting it.

Has it been 10 fricking years since I last saw that?! It almost feels like it!

I've decided that besides my pay, it helps that I arrived at work yesterday only to find out that I've been scheduled to work beside 2 hotties. To be blatantly honest, my pay is crappy by Australian standards. I say by Aust standards because I know the pay is RM 3 an hour in Malaysia. =.= But then, Australia has a system called award wages, meaning you get paid according to your age.

As the equation goes, I could be working as hard as a 20 year old, or possibly harder, and they're still getting a higher pay than me. =( Yes, that is bloody miserable. This guy asked us about our vacancy and when hottie told him that the boss is looking to employ juniors that are 16/17, I added, "That means whoever he can pay the least (thinking: like me)."

I shot my mouth off, but so? :P The guy who made the enquiry liked my honesty.

Ah fucking well...

On the other hand, it was an absolutely kembangifying episode yesterday when one of the hotties told me that everyone says I'm one of the best workers, based on speed. I love him already! Betapa sweetnya to be known as that, even if personally, I think it's untrue and I'm the one who when given the job of cutting apples manages to get more on the floor than into the buckets. =P

And just to let you know brag, I can cut apples without a cutting board. Syok sendiri. ;)

One day, I shall learn how to cut them the right way without being in danger of cutting myself, even if it looks mighty scary. I've been told that I shouldn't use my way when the boss is around, and that he might even hit me. Is that a Greek thing?! Well, if he does, he's going to lose 'one of his best workers'. I might tell him the first time I don't appreciate being touched at all, but the second time around, no negotiation. Nada.

Oh, and I still find it strange that people go, wow, when I say that I get English, Malay, Cantonese, Mandarin and Hokkien. *shrug* Lots of people I know can. But I guess hottie doesn't know any of them.

And OMG, a few Japanese dudes yesterday came up to me and spoke in Japanese!?!! Never mind the fact that I understood what he said, but DO I LOOK JAPANESE TO YOU!?! :P It's not that I understand-understand Japanese. At first he was speaking in English, and began nudging his friends. Okay, something dodgy's going on here. Then he said, "Tapioca insert-something-Japanese-here?"

Dude. =.= We're not a bubble tea cafe. It's a juice bar. And in any case... I'M NOT JAPANESE!! Which PART of me looks/makes you think I'm Japanese? The part with the big eyes? The kopi susu complexion I have? Or the part where I swear in Hokkien?!

I cleared the air and they flocked off. I never thought that working in a juice bar would be anything like this, but if anything, it's been entertaining. Besides a lot of hard work!

Which guy would ask a chick out, then tell her he can't make it when she changes only the venue? Or that it's okay when she cancels on the second attempt to meet 'cause he has stuff to finish up anyway?

Us females are complicated? Try the men. Fuck, they baffle me so. much. more.

Forget it, I'm going to work later. At least work is straightforward enough; I bust my ass off for you, you pay me.

Ah shit, that sounds so wrong. =P

With Marketing, I have to memorise the 4 Ps of the marketing concept, as told by the lecturer:

Product
Pricing
Placement, and
Promotion.

And for my Psychology test last week, what easily went into my head, thanks to my lecturer, were the 4 Fs that were the functions of the hypothalamus:

Fight
Flight
Feeding, and
Mating.

Don't you wonder why I find Psychology much easier to study? ;) Psychology wins hands down. It takes the cake, and the damn icing too.

Happy Merdeka, guys! :) It's a rainy day here in Brisbane and the end of winter here is always strange; it's colder than the core of winter itself! How temperamental, hey? Anyway, I completed the Project Happy Malaysia yesterday, and I hope you guys liked it and it instilled a bit more cheeriness in your day. All of you over in Malaysia have absolutely no right to sulk today; it's a holiday!

Anyway, I was going to write an emo post today because this one was written in a postcard by me a few days ago and I've been waiting and waiting to put it up, since Blogdrive has been PMSing. But then again, it's Merdeka. :) I shan't rain on everyone's parade just cause it's raining here. I wrote something less emotional during lunchtime.

Some confusion in the air,
a little disbelief to spare,
from the ones who slipped away,
to the ones that couldn't stay.

An echo of sentiments went silent,
the expectations altogether fallen,
with the water that drew its own course
and the found, no longer lost cause.

So.. afraid.. of.. you..

No indications to signpost my way
No idea what it is I'm gonna say.

I hate you illegitimately.
Love to hate you,
hate to love you.

Well, if you didn't understand that, believe me, that's perfectly understandable. Okay, you guys can all be my Thelma. I.. um.. got to know a guy at the party last weekend, and I gave him my number. After that, I refused to give him my name. See, I thought he wouldn't call. At all. Forgive me for sounding crass, but I thought it was a one-night thing. And that was that. But he smsed me on Sunday, which I didn't get, since he got the wrong number, and then through his friend, managed to get my number again.

He has called to ask if I would like to go on a movie on Saturday. The Malaysian part in me was jolted back to reality when Trinity reminded me that people go on dates to get to know each other better, unlike in Malaysia where only couples go on dates. I realised last night that so much in me hasn't changed. I might speak with an Australian accent, I might not know much about Malaysian news, but there's an essence about me that cannot be changed. It's the upbringing that did this to me. :) Aiks, digression!

Anyway... I am secretly quite afraid of what to say next if he calls, or if we go on that.. date. Thinking about it now, I've really never done dates. Lol. It really is disorienting! It's like having all my expectations ripped from me, and all these questions are hounding me. What does he want? He doesn't know what I'm like. I don't know him! And I keep reminding myself that nothing is going on. Absolutely nothing. Which is why he asked me on that date. Oh God, I am scared. to. death.

I'm going to be studying like MAD till 5 on Saturday (that's when my exams end). I hope that's enough to take my mind off this. Otherwise... well, just shoot me.