Too much apple pie...

Dear Reader,

I can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm happy I'm going back to school in August. Boredom is not a good colour for me. I get all depressed and lethargic if I don't have much to do. It's like how--even if you love apple pie more than life itself--you'll inevitably get sick of it after seven or eight months of nothing but apple pie for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Anyway, for lack of better blog fodder, I shall fill this post with random thoughts of randomness, delivered straight to you, my lucky reader, as they flit across the threshold of my entertainment-deprived, unstimulated mind. Enjoy.

Random thought numero uno: I love emoticons, don't you? They're a mighty useful way of expressing oneself, especially when you're communicating via the emotionless and voiceless Internet. And also for text messaging. Or in pictures. Or letters. I hate talking on the phone. I don't know why, it just makes me uncomfortable. So I resort to text messaging to get my point across, hence the importance of emoticons; I don't want to offend anyone because they misunderstand the tone of my message.

Random thought numero dos: If 'emo' stands for 'emotional', why do all individuals of the emo persuasion exhibit no emotion whatsoever? Is indifference an emotion? Isn't it rather a lack of emotion? Oh, wait, they do exhibit one emotion: angst. As demonstrated by their angry, anguish-ridden poem writing and their [alleged] wrist slashing. I have absolutely no problem with emo as a fashion trend. In fact, I salute all fashion non-conformists for having the guts to don their outrageous garments in public. I know I don't have their brand of courage.

Random thought numero tres: Certain scenes were cut from the 'Penelope' movie. I know this because I scrounged the Internet, trying to get a free viewing of it. *shifty eyes* Anyway, the one on YouTube only showed part of it (copyright infringement, blah, blah, blah) but I saw enough to know that they weren't showing the full version of 'Penelope' on Astro. The thing that miffs me is, most of the cut scenes were totally harmless. And most--if not all--of them were Penelope's scenes, the close-ups. Of her face. And her nose. Are you getting my drift, dear reader? It irks me to no end that the Malaysian government (or whoever handles these things) will delete scenes--that contain absolutely no violent or obscene behaviour--just because they're afraid it will offend...certain people. And the pig nose wasn't even grotesque; it was more cute than freaky.

Random thought numero cuatro: I'm going to the Rainforest World Music Festival this July. I'm so looking forward to it. I went once before, a long time ago. I barely remember what happened. I'm going with my sisters and brother, and maybe one of my sister's friends. My mom might come with us, too. I await the commencement of Rainfest with baited breath! ...or maybe not. It's happening on the 10th of July. I can't hold my breath that long. So I shall await the dawning of the 10th of July with a palpitating heart and mounting enthusiasm!

Random thought numero cinco: The quizzes on Facebook are really interesting and creative. I've done so many already. At first I thought Facebook was for losers...you know, lemmings. Or sheep. And I refused to join it because I didn't want to transform into some sort of Facebook clone, bombarding my friends and family with my idiotic shout outs and senseless rambling. I mean, that's the reason for this blog. I don't need to extend my lunacy to Facebook. But, like many times before, I found that I was mistaken. Facebook has become a welcome channel to alleviate the boredom of the past few weeks.

Random thought numero seis: I can only count up to six in Spanish. So I guess this'll be my last random thought. Hey, guess what...I can say 'my name is Figgy' in Spanish; 'mi nombre es Figgy'. Aha~

Okay, I'll let you go now, my dearest reader. I hope you've been experiencing some excitement in your life--unlike moi [hey, French! XD]--and shall continue to experience it in the future. Til next time, adios mi amigo! Right, now that's Spanish.

Yours,

Figgy the Haphazard

Relapse

Dear Reader,

I'm afraid I have some bad news. Brace yourself; make sure you are securely seated in your computer chair--although if it's a swivel-type chair, then perhaps you'd be better off standing up. Alright. I'll just come right out and say it. It's not like I enjoy playing with your tender feelings, my sensitive reader. The suspense is probably too much for you to bear.

On a side note, I just ate some lovely fried chicken for dinner. And then I had a hotdog sandwich, positively dripping with mustard and smothered with onions. And I...

Oh, right. Ahem.

I have suffered...cue dramatic music...a relapse. Yes, a relapse. I have officially fallen off the wagon. Instead of kicking the habit, the habit has turned around and kicked me. In the proverbial rear. With extensive force, I might add.

"What on earth is she babbling on about?" you direct your chilly, miffed expression towards the computer screen, impatiently scrolling down the page.

Well, dear reader, if you insist on taking that tone with me...

Your icy glare pierces me to my marrow, sending chills right through your computer screen, straight across cyberspace, and down my spine.

Without further ado, I say, I have relapsed...into my old habit of procrastination. My most recent submission for DA was dated 2nd June. I kid you not. I am absolutely mortified at myself. I am scandalised, in fact, that I could actually be so negligent and careless. And yet...here I am, blogging about it instead of taking any steps to rectify my callous oversight.

It doesn't make any sense, I know. Welcome to my contrary world. Although, in my defense, I am in fact working on something right now. This something is a bit harder than anything I've done before, because it has a background! For once in my life, I'm drawing a proper background.

So, don't judge me too harshly, my impulsive reader. I shall try harder than ever to stop procrastinating, once and for all. I think that's it from me. Til next time, my dear reader. *skips off to watch TV--er, I mean to draw...draw like she's never drawn before*

Yours,

Figgy the Feet Dragger

...a thousand words

Dear Reader,

Fret not, I have no intention of heaping a thousand-word essay onto your unsuspecting head, my honourable reader. Although, come to think of it, the past 20-something posts I composed have probably amounted to a lot more than a mere 1000 words, chatty person that I am. Now, before you start ranting and raving about all the time you've wasted reading my blog when you could have been doing something worthwhile--finding a cure for the common cold, or perhaps inventing The Pair Of Socks That Never Gets Lost In The Wash--consider this: all those precious minutes you took to pore over my posts have actually been for your own good, my judgemental reader. Yes, for your own good, I say. I flatter myself when I say that I possess quite an extensive vocabulary. So extensive, in fact, that I don't even need a subject to blog about. I just start with 'Dear Reader', then type out any old nonsense I can think of, but with a liberal garnish of, to quote a friend of mine, bombastic words. And, sooner or later--usually later; numerous spellchecks and much rereading later--a post is born.

"Fascinating," you say, your tone dripping with sarcasm and your eyes rolling like nobody's business, "but what does all of this have to do with my alleged self-improvement?"

Ah, a very good question, my ever perceptive reader. The self-improvement in question is in fact of a grammatical and literary nature. The cultivation of your mind, the development of your higher sensibilities, the expansion of your vocabulary scope, and...a bunch of other stuff, equally impressive-sounding, and of an equal degree of tosh. Basically, you get to learn new words, and new ways of using them, each time you read one of my posts. You lucky reader, you. Or perhaps I flatter myself too much. Perhaps I should move on to the real reason of today's post.

But I digress. Before I come to the real, real reason for today's post, I shall inform you of one of the reasons behind the composition of this post. A sub-reason, if you will. One of the reasons for today's post is to communicate with you, dearest reader, the assertion that I have, in fact, nothing to communicate. That's right. Basically, I have nothing to say. [See what I mean? I'm so good, I can blog about nothing! *smug*] Therefore, I shall compensate for this lack of blog fodder by announcing the real, real reason for today's post. The real, real reason for today's post, I say, is to share a few pictures I took a few days ago, ergo this post's title. You know, 'a picture speaks a thousand words'. Anyway, I took said photographs with my handphone camera, then proceeded to tweak them a little on my computer. So, strictly speaking, they aren't exactly 100% original. They have been digitally modified. So there. Enjoy!

This was actually taken at my school (St. Teresa) about six months ago, when I was still in Form 5. Could it be only six months ago? It seems like a lifetime ago...

A tree. In my compound. Against a blue, blue sky. Oh picture of a tree in my compund against a blue, blue sky, I dub thee: 'Tree Lace'.

Some flowers that I thought looked pretty. Again, they are set against a blue, blue sky. The roof peeking out at the corner of the shot belongs to the shed-thingy in our yard. I christen this picture: 'Sky Flowers'.

Ah, yes. My portly and dignified cat, Twinkle. For the record, I did not ask her to pose for the picture, she did it on her own. That's just how dignified she is.

And again, Miss Twinkle, sittin' pretty.

And there you have it, my dear reader. My thousand words. Or, since there are five pictures, my five thousand words. Anyway, that's all for today; I am officially out of blog-worthy ideas. So, I bid thee adieu, venerable reader. Until next time, I remain...

Yours,

Figgy the Fluent

Busy, busy, busy...

Dear Reader,

Lately I've noticed my posts are getting shorter, fewer, and farther in between. They're no longer the loquacious, long-winded rants of former days. And although [I presume] the brevity of my recent posts might actually be more of a cause for celebration than of woe for you, my dear reader, I still feel that I've been neglecting my little Fig House. For once, I actually have a good excuse for my negligence...besides my acute inclination to lollygag, that is. I have been busy. Actually busy. Doing stuff. 

For one thing, I have been busy...drawing. Now that I've joined DA, I feel obliged to churn out artwork at an almost manic rate. Is there such a thing as a prolific artist? Because, if there is, that's what I am. At least, that's what I was until a few moments ago, when I took a short break to get reacquainted with you, my dear reader. And I hope I shall continue to be busy for a long time to come. Nothing like waking up with an unyielding sense of purpose to keep you grounded; it's the little piece of sanity of which I am sorely in need of. Therefore, if I seem inattentive or remiss in my blogging, I hope you'll forgive me, my compassionate reader. It's for the greater good, you see. I have to draw, or I shall go insane.

For another thing, I have been busy...reading. I am currently trying to read no fewer than three books at once. It's slow-going, as you can probably imagine. I just went book-shopping. Bought many, many books. As many as my budget would allow, anyway. The books I am trying to devour whole at present are 'Eragon' by Christopher Paolini, 'Hard Times' by [duh!] Charles Dickens and, surprisingly, 'Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire' by J. K. Rowling. 

Now, concerning 'Eragon'...I've always wanted to read Mr. Paolini's books. The fact that he started writing 'Eragon' at the tender age of 15 intrigued me. I wanted to see if his alleged writing prowess was really all it was cracked up to be. Pretty interesting so far. You can actually see his progress as the book...progresses. See his skills develop as the plot...develops. Yeah. Anyway, one thing's for sure: the movie is so different from the book. The book is so much more detailed and informative than the crummy movie was. And the characters were different as well. Totally different. *sigh* I hate it when someone decides to make a movie based on a book. The movie invariably turns out to be a complete disappointment.

As for 'Hard Times', well. It was written by Charles Dickens. Need I say more? Actually, I've read it before, a long time ago. But I never owned a copy of it until now. It's one of my life-long goals to be able to quote any given  Charles Dickens book at will. By passages.

Ah, 'Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire'. I hate to say it, but--at risk of being included in the horde of Harry Potter idolaters--the rumours were true. The woman can write. I'm on the fourth book, so I can safely say that I have officially joined the J. K. Rowling fan club. I wonder what else she'll write about. Can't wait to read it, whatever it may turn out to be.

Well, that's it. No, seriously. What exactly do you mean by that, my insensitive reader? 'You don't sound busy at all', indeed! Believe you me, this amount of exertion on my part is no trifling matter. I don't have one industrious bone in my body. And if I do, it's sure to be a puny little thing; overshadowed by my enormous compulsion to be idle. However, with a little exercise, I hope my [nearly] non-existent industrious-ness will develop into something. Something large and all-consuming. Like a bush fire. Or an exceptionally full bladder.

Anyway, I shall take my leave now, dear reader. See you round the bend! Til then, I remain...

Yours,

Figgy the Busy, Industrious, Diligent, Occupied, Engaged, and...Generally Full of Activity