Many an early Saturday morning, the bedroom door would creak open and...

 

"Want to go out for breakfast?"

 

My cue to drag myself out of bed. In between eating the same thing at the same coffee shop and drinking the same drink (genuine Yaps are creatures of routine), he would insert a few "you know, you're the only one who'd go out for morning breakfast with me"s and "you know, I don't have to eat breakfast out...but I want to create memories with you"s.

 

And the signature "Next time you'll remember that daddy brought you out for breakfast and then you'll tell your children about me..."

 

And then there would be the routine "I used to follow my dad out for breakfast. I hid behind the pillar and he wouldn't know I was there..." and then I would go "yeah, I've heard that before."

 

I've heard that about a thousand, if not a million times already. xD So, he would move on to the little lectures of life...it's really no mystery where I got those talkative genes from.

 

Not to mention the early Saturday mornings when we decide to stay at home and eat a simple breakfast, then start to clear up the house. Being the only two early risers (who bother to clear up the house, that is...Ray doesn't count), that's our personal and private duty. Of course, I get treated to another "must-have-initiative" sermonette in between all that hustle.

 

In the same way, I won't forget all the ideology he crammed down my throat subtly, brainwashing me into becoming another clone of him. His infectious optimism and enthusiasm; his chiding me that I shouldn't be disillusioned at such a young age, his list of prospective suitors for me (LOL), and the most impressed in my mind : divorce is NOT an option. *terms and conditions apply*

 

Because of him, I am a total believer in the power of propaganda. xD Uh, no, I wasn't born loving keeping things orderly and tidy. I even shirk every once in a blue baboon. =P

 

Of course, thank you for all those crash courses in Physics, Add Maths and even Maths because I was just too lazy to do revision by myself when it came to these three subjects. =P Only that the package had an extra "learn-physics-and-add-maths-well-cause-got-market-don't-just-teach-one-subject-be-versatile" lecture. Which I would invariably get sick of, considering how much I love physics and add maths.

 

Oh, and thanks also for the countless "I'm proud of you" and "I love you" statements that I always tried to brush off, but were secretly pleased about. (When dads say that sort of thing, it's not the same as a peer saying them, okay?)

 

Thanks also for that sense of humour, good-natured disposition, patience and perasanness that I very obviously inherited as well. *snicker* Except for the "patience" part. I believe that one comes with age and trials of all sorts. =P

 

But anyway, Happy Birthday to daddy. =)

 

Signing off,

Your virtual clone.

 

"Things you said, things you did,

things you can't remember you did

things you don't want me to remember you did

things that added a sparkle to my eyes

things that made up the spice of life."

 

Part of a little something I wrote for Eddie quite awhile ago. It was (and still is) one of my hobbies to gleefully taunt him about things he cannot remember he said or did, yet are stuck firmly in my memory. xD

 

"My memory freaks Eddie out. I can remember everything he's done."

"You think he's the only one who's freaked out?"

 

Once upon a time, that is. My memory isn't what it used to be anymore, what more with all the hundreds of pages of history, physics, biology, chemistry and moral education combined that take up a significant amount of brain space. =P

 

But here's some food for thought, taken from National Geographic online magazine.

 

'There are good evolutionary reasons why our memories fail us in the specific ways they do. If everything we looked at, smelled, heard, or thought about was immediately filed away in the enormous database that is our long-term memory, we'd be drowning in irrelevant information.

In his short story "Funes the Memorious," Jorge Luis Borges describes a man crippled by an inability to forget. He remembers every detail of his life, but he can't distinguish between the trivial and the important. He can't prioritize, he can't generalize. He is "virtually incapable of general, platonic ideas." Perhaps, as Borges concludes in his story, it is forgetting, not remembering, that is the essence of what makes us human. "To think," Borges writes, "is to forget." '

 

Perhaps it is forgetting, not remembering, that is the essence of what makes us human. Amen to that.

She's contrite. She's sorry for all the forced smiles and half-hearted grins. She's afraid too, you see. She's afraid of seeing her in herself.

 

She can't really understand the undercurrent of emotion that's flooding her on a regular basis. It's so mental that she's thinking herself into a rut. She withdraws, but at the same time, is afraid that others will misinterpret her actions.

 

She's still afraid.

 

Very afraid.

So yeah, I skipped Hari Penyampaian Sijil in favour of some kursus koperasi held in SMK Kuching Town #1 yesterday. [note to reader : It's not Hari Penyampaian Sijil DAN Hadiah. Just Sijil only.]

 

I'm still unsure whether I chose wisely or not, so I'm stuck between regret and no regrets. xD Ah, well, the road not taken.

 

I knew courses like these would never benefit me. For one thing, courses never benefitted anybody...if you're good, then you're good. For another, how good do you have to be to work in a a cooperative?! Rhetorical question, obviously. But owing to the fact that I was so eager to get out of school, I was actually looking forward to this course. Ah, the folly of youth.

 

And as it goes, all's well that ends well. We started well, being one of the first schools to arrive. Then again, there were only 3 schools involved, including the homeschool. Go figure. We ended well alright...the KFC lunch set each of us got was probably the only enjoyable thing we got out of this course.

 

But somewhere in the middle, things went wrong. =P

 

To this day, I have no idea what cooperative laws/principles have to do with touring Langkawi and *legible handwriting. But doubt not, for the lecturer managed to tie these in as well, even through alleged claims of having not enough time. Then, there were all those Accounting stuff, which I know about as well as I know Form 5 Add Maths. There was even some degree of a motivational talk thrown in as well. Wow. And guess what...we had a uber-tough TEST at the end of it. YIPPEE. *grimace*

 

Through it all, the lecturers must have thought I had A.D.D, if they even noticed what I was doing at my seat. Being very hyper and bored, I was constantly whispering witticisms to Charmaine and Elyssa, whom I sat between. Of course, I was subtle about it - a ladeh's gotta be a ladeh. =P My notebook was doodled pretty bad, which only happens to May when rock-bottom boredom is achieved. The guys were sketching like mad behind us - need I say more to attest to the boredom we were all facing?

 

But I guess the highlight of the day was summed up by Elyssa's poem for me.

 

Fixation of squares and pink,

That's May Yap seriously in love.

Delusional and crazy you might think,

Her love for her pink box's like sent from above.

 

Kissing every corner of the surface,

Like it's made from priceless jewels,

bondage with a cardboard that's gotta be the first.

Sadly, the vision of them made me really go EWW!

 

Oh, yeah. I'm in love. With my pink disposable cardboard TAKA cake house lunch box. But um, I didn't really kiss the box. Unhygienic lah. I don't know why the rest are so jealous. xD

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This is just so ding dong bell.

 

I love Nisha's lingo. Ding dong bell. xD Sounds a load better than plain ol' stupid.

 

Ding dong bell, ding dong bell. So, so ding dong bell. How ding dong bell can you get? Let me tell you a ding dong bell story.

 

So it turns out that I went to Everrise today with Nisha's family. Long story. Disregard technicalities, too lazy to tell the whole boring story from the start, which I will be obligated to add in unnecessary details to, which might confuse others. Ah yes, I ignited your curiosity now, right? xD Since I'm in such a generous mood today, I shall spare you the murderously boring story.

 

Anyway, as we were leaving, we, or rather Nish dahlin' caught sight of a row of handbags in a store. At least, that's what I call a "handbag". I don't know what else to call them...what do you call something not fancy (or tiny) enough to be a handbag, yet functions similarly? Then she started chattering excitedly and asked me if I've seen this oh-so-unfancy-but-apparently-unique bag. According to her, *everyone has one now. Sorry to say, of course I never noticed it...I wouldn't even notice if someone was being murdered in front of me, but I think that's beside the point, right?

 

The most striking thing about this bag was the words printed boldly up front. What were those wonderful, fantastic, fascinating words? Those words that managed to turn heads and send crowds flying to purchase them at *800 euros or so in Europe? (yeah, those we saw were cetak rompak ones. =.=)

 

"I am not a plastic bag."

 

*blink* How...interesting. So now that we all know you're not a plastic bag, it's the trend (albeit a trend I never noticed, but I repeat, I never notice anything).

 

If my eyebrows had no limits to the heights they could reach, they'd be together with Dr Sheikh Musta..Muza..Something lost somewhere beyond the earth's gravitational tug, never to be retrieved again by their sadly eyebrow-less owner. I think I'm scaring myself. Better not give myself nightmares of losing my eyebrows.

 

Uncle Raymond promptly decided that he would print a shirt that goes "I am not a dog" and wear it, while Nish added that she would wear a shirt going "Isn't that obvious?" and walk beside him. xD

 

While I decided that my newest career option would be to design and print limited edition stating-the-obvious shirts, which would undoubtedly rule the fashion world for a certain amount of time - enough time for me to get rich, that is.

 

How mind-blowingly ding dong bell.