Back...from the dead!

Dear Reader,



I live! Well, just barely, anyway. I'm still in the process of convalescing from the dismal state of boredom that has been my lot for the past week. Still recuperating from my aimless and frustrated drifting; wandering from one dreary room to yet another equally dreary room, in search of something to see, something to do, someone to talk to.


"What could have caused such extreme ennui and vacillation?" you ask.


My answer, dear reader, is simple. The internet couldn't work.


I would appreciate it, my dearest reader, if you would kindly suppress your gasps of shock long enough for me to complete this post. I know the concept of being cut off from any and all communication via the World Wide Web sounds appalling, dreadful, and even downright outrageous to you, but I have a lot to get off my chest, as you can easily imagine, what with my week-long hermitage and all.


For starters, I want to tell you about my Future. Yes, my Future. My Future as a Student. My Future as a Student, in which I shall be Studying. Alright, alright...you get the picture. Anyway, I have finally settled on a course of action, a guideline, a plan for my academic Future. The plan is as follows:


In May, I shall apply for a JPA Scholarship which shall (hopefully) enable me to pursue a Foundation in Design. Yes, Design. The 'units of study' consist of such auspicious-sounding subjects like 'Design Studies', 'Graphic Design', 'Drawing and Illustration', and 'Context and Culture'. Stuff like that.


And then, if I had my way, just after finishing my Foundation, I would pursue a Bachelor in Languages and Linguistics at another university. Of course, there then arises the question of whether a different uni would accept a credit transfer from my Foundation in Design. If they do not, I have a back-up plan. Upon the possibility of failing to enter the aforementioned uni, I shall continue in the field of design and get a degree, then go back and get a masters in linguistics.


The only problem with this, of course, is the time it would take to complete everything. I’m not worried about money; I let my parents worry about that. It’s always worked before. But, then again, that’s why I’m waiting for May to come rolling around and the JPA application-thingy to open up.


Enough about furthering my studies. It’s high time we got to discussing something else, something actually enjoyable. Like how I spent my abundant free time during the Internet Access Drought of last week. Well, believe it or not, I actually tried my hand at a bit of gardening. Yes, gardening. Why do you persist in making me repeat myself, my oh-so-sceptical reader? It’s not that much of a stretch for the imagination, is it—to picture me squatting over a somewhat neglected-looking garden, yanking with all my might at a particularly stubborn weed? Okay, maybe it is. But I assure you, it did in fact happen. I have witnesses. Just ask my 6.5 dogs.


Anyway, I don’t profess to be some sort of green-thumbed plant-miracle-worker or anything. In fact, I had a hard time discerning which plants were the weeds and which ones were actually supposed to be there. I fear I may have done more harm than good to that garden. And the dogs weren’t much help either. They kept digging in all the wrong places, pulling up all the wrong things, sniffing at everything I touched, and bumping and jostling against me in their excitement and curiosity to see what on earth I was doing there.


I also reread one of my favourite books, 'The Return of the Fairy' by Gail Carson Levine. Well, technically speaking, it was a compilation of six of her books, all of which have only one thing in common: they all take place in a village called Snettering-on-Snoakes, in the Kingdom of Biddle. But that's about it. Gail Carson Levine wrote 'Ella Enchanted', so you know what to expect from a compilation of fairytales written by the likes of her: that is, a hilarious and unexpected take on classic and not-so-classic fairytales.


Well, I suppose I've dragged this post on long enough. I shall try to contain my overflowing joy and jubilation at the return of my connectivity, and say adieu, dear reader. Until we meet [?] again.





Yours,


Figgy the Jubilant

♪ Thank you for the music... ♫

Dear Reader,





It's high time for another musical post. This time, I would like to share a song called 'Bagaikan Puteri' by Farra. It means 'Like a Princess'. The meaning behind the lyrics is a bit sad, but the tune is really catchy. I mean, super catchy. Like stuck-in-your-head-for-a-week catchy. Anyway, here are the lyrics and the translation.





Farra
'Bagaikan Puteri'

[Chorus]
Tapi sayang, hanyalah impian
Bulan tak bisa tumbuh di taman
Dan bila mentari datang
Pulanglah segala kenyataan

Jika dunia aku yang punya
Akanku dirikan
Sebuah syurga
Malam tanpa siang
Untukku bermimpi

[*]

Sepanjang masa, tanpa kecewa
Bertemankan bintang yang setia
Bagaikan puteri kisah khayalan
Yang hidupnya suci dan sempurna

[Chorus]

Jika dunia aku yang punya
Akanku hiaskan
Sepasang sayap
Putih dan berseri
Untukku kemudi

[*]

[Chorus] x2

English translation:Farra
'Like a Princess'

[Chorus]
But too bad, it's only a dream
The moon can't grow in a garden
And when the sun comes
The reality returns

If the world belonged to me
I would build
A paradise
A night without day
For me to dream

[*]

All the time
Without disappointment
Accompanied by the loyal stars
Like a fairy-tale princess
With a pure and perfect life

[Chorus]

If the world belonged to me
I would adorn
A pair of wings
White and shining
For me to navigate

[*]

[Chorus] x2

See what I mean? A bit pessimistic, really...but at least it's realistic; it is a widely accepted belief that the moon does not grow in gardens. Anyway, that's all for today. Hope you enjoyed this somewhat brief post. It must be a refreshing change for you, my dear reader. Until we meet again, ciao!

Yours,

Figgy the Music Lover

Results are in!

Dear Reader,




Kindly refer to the title above. Yes, the results are, in fact, in.


"What results?" you ask, scratching your head in confusion.


Ah, my silly and scatter-brained reader, don't you remember? I told you all about this in one of my posts, dated 22nd of February 2009, under the title of 'Birthday Girl'.


Still not ringing any bells? Very well. I'll just have to come out and say it. No use prolonging this ridiculous situation any longer; you don't know what I'm talking about, I won't let you know what I'm talking about. Just a waste of time, really. I mean, you must be absolutely dying of curiosity by now.


Ahem.


The results in question are my SPM examination results. And they are in; as in, they are out. Officially out. They came out on the 12th of March, actually. But due to my acute tendency to procrastinate, I have postponed the announcement of them until today. The 12th of March fell on a Thursday. An ordinary, average, garden-variety Thursday. Remarkable only in the degree of how extremely ordinary, average and garden-variety it was. Oh, yes, and that was The Day, The Dreadful Day, when my results came out, of course. The results that determine my future, my career, and my standing in the eyes of society.


I bet you want to know how I did, don't you, my inquisitive reader. Well, I did okay. Just okay. I didn't get straight A's, but at least I passed.


I shall proceed to deliver a severely detailed and extremely specific report of my aforementioned results. Please find it in your heart, my dearest reader, to stay awake for the entire duration of this mind-numbingly boring post.


But first, I shall acquaint you with the Malaysian SPM grading scheme. We do things by grades here. A1 is the highest grade: 100% to 85%. Next is the A2 rank: 84% to 76%, I think. And then there's the B3: 75% to 64%. Or something like that. Then there's the B4, C5, D6 and so on and so forth. I'm not really sure about the marks allocated for each grade...I've quite forgotten by now.


Overall, I received 8 A's (6 A1's and 2 A2's) and 3 B3's. There are actually just 10 compulsory subjects for SPM, but students are allowed to take on as many extra subjects as they feel they are able to handle. I took one extra subject: Bible Knowledge, mainly because it's easy; a guaranteed A.


Now, on to the good stuff.


English: I received an A1. Hardly surprising; English was always my best subject. And Malaysia's standard of English is a bit...mediocre. It's to be expected, of course, in a country where English is not the national language.


EST: This harmless-looking acronym is actually a curse in disguise. It stands for English for Science and Technology. Basically, it's a waste of time. We are forced to take this subject because our Education Ministry feels that the separate subjects of Chemistry, Biology, Physics and English aren't enough. We need another burden, another subject to study, which is just the combination of these four subjects, but with a different set of rules and format to memorise.


I got an A1 for it. My essays were mostly crap anyway. I discovered a long time ago that as long as you write crap with a serious enough tone and with good enough English, you'll get good marks for it. That's the only good thing about EST; the teachers that mark the papers are English teachers, not Science teachers.

Bahasa Malaysia: I got an A1 as well. This was actually quite a surprise. I expected a B3 or maybe an A2. I never got anything higher than an A2 in my normal school exams. Thank goodness for the bell curve, I guess.

History: Another A1. Like with my Bahasa Malaysia, I was expecting an A2, at the highest. But I vaguely remember making an actual effort to study. Maybe that's what did it. Or it could just be the bell curve again.


Mathematics: I got an A1 for it. Math, compared with Additional Mathematics, is so much easier. There is definitely an imbalance in the curriculum they teach in Malaysian schools. Classes in Malaysia are divided into two 'streams' after Form 3--I guess that would be Grade 9--Science stream and Arts/Commerce stream. I was in the Science stream. Students in the Science stream are required to take Math as well as Add Math. However, for students in the Arts/Commerce stream, Add Maths is not compulsory. There's too big a difference between the subjects. I mean, the stuff we learn in Math is just another English lesson, but with numbers and 'mathematical reasoning'.


Biology: Shockingly, an A1. I was expecting something much lower. I think the highest I ever got for Bio was an A2. But Bio was always my favourite science subject. And I think I managed to get some brownie points because Bio is really all about remembering and explaining the biochemical processes that occur in living organisms. Yup...I'm really good at taking a little bit of information and just elaborating on it into as many sentences as I can, like thinly-spread butter on toast.


Pendidikan Moral: Translation-->Moral Education. I got an A2 for it. Man, I hated Moral. We had to memorise, word-for-word, the definitions and key-words of 'virtues'. And there were also a number of incredibly pointless and confusing formulae for answering questions; there were at least two different ones for the subjective questions, depending on the marks allocated. And there was one for answering essay questions. Needless to say, it was extremely frustrating to get penalised for something as pathetic as writing an 'and' instead of an 'as well as', or leaving out one single adjective from an already over-descriptive, long-winded sentence. Speaking of long-winded...


Bible Knowledge: An A2. Exactly what I expected. I remember thinking as I sat for the paper, 'it's gonna be an A2, at least.' And I was right. I could've gotten an A1, but, as is the norm with me, I left the studying til the last possible minute.


Chemistry: I got a B3. I hate Chemistry. It sucks. I respect all those people who actually 'get' Chemistry, seriously. I doff my hat in humble adoration and homage to all you Chemistry geeks; you may be the socially-inept nerds of today, but you will be the leaders of tomorrow. Remember, the geek shall inherit the earth...or something like that.


Physics: Another B3. Yeah...I'm not a numbers kind of person. I am fated to fail in any field of study, area of interest, or branch of learning that is based solely on counting, calculation and mathematical formulae.


Additional Mathematics: Yet another B3. Refer to paragraph above. 'nuff said.


So, my dear reader, you may awake from your deep and, I trust, restful slumber now. I am finished. Well, almost. I haven't told you how I feel about the outcome of my SPM yet. To be honest, I feel torn. Ripped in half. Divided. I can't decide whether I'm happy and relieved to have passed every single subject, or disappointed and a bit regretful that I didn't get straight A's.


I know, I know, I should be feeling grateful that I managed to even pass my stupid SPM. And if I regret not getting all A's, I only have myself to blame for not studying hard enough. Or often enough. Or long enough. But still...I wish life had a reset button.


It's no use dwelling on the past, I guess. How can you move forward if all you're ever doing is looking behind you?


Well, I believe I have taxed your patience quite enough, dearest reader, and I shall leave you to continue your nap in peace. Til next time, adieu.






Yours,



Figgy the Fractured

♫ ♪ Music and Lyrics...and Translation?

Dear Reader,





You should know by now that when I hear a song, it's not the music I listen to first, it's the words. I am quite fortunate to be able to understand two languages quite fluently: English and Malay. And, by understanding Malay, I can almost understand Indonesian. You see, the Malay and Indonesian languages share the same relationship as American and British English. The accents and colloquial terms are quite different, but the basic words used are pretty similiar.



Malaysians sometimes borrow Indonesian words, especially in poetry, novels or songs, because Indonesian words sound so much more poetic and romantic than our Malay ones.



Anyway, the reason I'm composing this post is not to deliver a lecture on the differences or similarities between the Malaysian and Indonesian languages. I'm here to share a song with you, my dear reader. It's called 'Juwita (Citra Terindah)' by M. Nasir. Here are the lyrics and the translation:





M. Nasir
Juwita (Citra Terindah)
Bagaimanakah aku gambarkan
Rasa yang membakar jiwaku?
Tiada kata yang tak cliché
Bagai habis bahasa bermutu
Sedang engkau teristimewa buat diriku
Ilham tugu Taj Mahal
Didirikan, oh…


Barangkali kita perlu
Melihat di sebalik materi
Kau wanita, aku lelaki
Ayuhlah kita *mengikat janji
Yang kau Juwita menolak segala dusta
Citra yang terindah
Cerita yang sakti

Chorus:
Ku serahkan nasibku pada cinta murni
Jugaku rasakan bukti
Patahkan, ku hancurkan badanku ini
Kau tetap menjadi

Oh-oh, oh-oh…*Pujaan
Oh-oh, oh-oh…Juwita

Kau segala-galanya

Kau Juwita menghidupkan jiwa yang lara
Menggoncang kalbu yang lama membeku

[Chorus]

Oh-oh, oh-oh…Pujaan
Oh-oh, oh-oh…Juwita
Oh-oh, oh-oh…Pujaan
Oh-oh, oh-oh…Juwita

*Sempurnakan cintaku
Juwita...Juwita...
Kaulah segalanya
Segalanya...
Kaulah segalanya
Segalanya...






M. Nasir
Juwita (The Most Beautiful Image)
How do I describe
The feeling that burns in my soul?
There are no words that aren’t cliché
As if language of good quality has been used up
Whereas you’re the most special person to me
The inspiration behind the Taj Mahal
Being built, oh…

Maybe we need
To look behind the subject matter
You’re a woman, I’m a man
Come, let us *make promises
That you, Juwita, push aside all the lies
The most beautiful image
A sacred story

Chorus:
I deliver my fate to a pure love
I have also felt the proof
If I break, crush my body
You will still be

Oh-oh, oh-oh…*The one I adore
Oh-oh, oh-oh…Juwita

You are everything

You, Juwita, brought a miserable soul to life
Shook up a heart that has long been frozen

[Chorus]

Oh-oh, oh-oh…The one I adore
Oh-oh, oh-oh…Juwita
Oh-oh, oh-oh…The one I adore
Oh-oh, oh-oh…Juwita

*Perfect my love
Juwita...Juwita...
You are everything
Everything...
You are everything
Everything...









*mengikat janji--make promises
Ok, so I translated this phrase as 'make promises'. But the literal word-for-word translation is 'tie promises'. I love this phrase because it implies that promises, like knots, can be tied; that they are binding. Just thought you would like to know that, my dearest reader.


*pujaan--the one I adore
The original [accurate] translation for 'pujaan' is 'idol', or 'sacrifice'; you know, something to be worshipped and adored. I thought 'idol' was a little heavy for the upbeat mood of this song and, besides, I believe in the whole monotheistic "You shall have no other gods before Me" thing. So I paraphrased.


*sempurnakan--perfect
The word 'perfect' is used as a verb here, not as a noun. Examples:
Verb: 'please perfect my love'.
Noun: 'make my love perfect'.
Interestingly enough, it's almost the same situation with the Malay word. 'Sempurna' means 'perfect', a noun. Add '-kan' to the back and it becomes a verb.





Alrighty then. I should probably go now, before I come up with anymore footnotes and bore you to death. Bubbye!





Yours,



Figgy the Philologist

A Day at the Beach

Dear Reader,

As the title above suggests, I recently spent a day at the beach. It was on the 9th, a Monday. The prophet Muhammad's birthday, I believe. Therefore, it was a public holiday, and nobody had any classes to attend. And so, we decided to go to the beach!



I am fortunate enough to live relatively close to Sarawak's coastline. There's a slew of beach resorts in Santubong, about half an hour's drive from my house. But, since they're all resorts, we can't just waltz into the place and use their beach. We would have to check in to a room or something first. So, we went to a place called Pasir Pandak, which is a bit farther away than Santubong, but totally free. Pasir Pandak, translated literally, means something like 'Short Sand'...'pasir' meaning 'sand' in Malay and 'pandak' meaning 'short' in Iban, one of the many native languages of Sarawak.



Anyway, me, my older sister Rebekah (a.k.a. Bekah), Bekah's boyfriend Emmanuel, Daniella (a.k.a. Dani), Julia, and my [other] cousin Tracy (a.k.a. Urei) all piled into the Pajero and headed for the beach. It was a bit crowded, even using the Pajero, because the four of us--me, Dani, Urei and Julia--had to fit in the middle seat, which was originally designed for just three people. We had to do this because the back seat was fully occupied with all the stuff we brought along, you know, 'just in case'.



Let me see, we brought a portable barbeque set, specially purchased for the occasion just the day before. We brought food; chicken and hotdogs for bbq-ing, rice to go with the chicken and hotdogs, some left over chicken curry Julia had cooked that morning, and a lot of junk food to snack on during the drive. We brought water; four big mineral bottles of it, if I'm not mistaken, and two more bottles of soft drinks. We brought a mat to sit on, so that we wouldn't have to get all sandy; we actually took the mat from our living room floor. We each brought a change of clothes, towels, and toiletries; shampoo, soap, etc. Do you have any idea how yucky your hair gets after a soak in salt water?



But, salt water aside, it was a thoroughly enjoyable and fun day. And, my dear reader, since pictures speak a thousand words, I should probably stop talking [typing?] now and let the pictures I took speak for themselves.

The aforementioned portable bbq set.

Clockwise from the dude: Emmanuel, Bekah, Urei, Dani, Julia. They're sitting on the missing mat. The white Kancil behind them is just some stranger's car. I'm taking the picture.

Awww, someone brought their dog to the beach...

My flip-flops (red and black) and Julia's sandals. I have no idea who the guy was...just some random beach-goer.

From left: Julia in a cowboy hat, Urei, me, Bekah, Emmanuel. That's our Pajero behind us. Dani's taking the photo.

A very candid moment.

The spot we picked was really nice and shady, because of all the conveniently located trees.

I was focusing on the plant, but I took another photo of the unsuspecting Random Beach-Goer...

If you look closely, you can see all of us walking towards the water. Except Dani, she's the one taking the picture. Julia's the closest, then Urei. I'm the tiny figure with the cap and ponytail. Emmanuel and Bekah are next to me. Bekah's wearing a football jersey.

I thought the dark, green leaves against the blue sky looked nice.

Well, that's that. I've finally found something eventful to post about. I hope you enjoyed it, even if you don't exist, my dear and faithful reader. So, until we meet again. TTFN!






Yours,



Figgy the Beach Bum

A Random Story...

Dear Reader,





Would you like to hear a random story? For I am in a random-story-telling mood. Well, here goes...



Have you ever been approached by an individual with short-cropped hair, wearing a white shirt, plain tie and immaculately pressed trousers, often accompanied by at least one other, almost identically attired individual? Well, I have. Kind of.



Let me start from the beginning.





It was a perfectly normal day; the only remarkable occurrence being that almost the entire family [including me] was outside in the yard, enjoying the sunshine. My younger brother, Nethaniel, shirtless and perspiring heavily, was rambunctiously playing with the dogs. I was sitting on a rattan chair, situated directly in front of the side door, just in case the whole furry, panting group descended upon me and I needed to beat a hasty retreat.




My cousin, Linda--or Lini, as we all tend to call her--was pottering about the garden, doing something to the chilli plants, I believe. Or maybe she was starting a fire for us to roast marsh-mellows over, later in the evening. I don't quite remember that detail, but it isn't really relevant to this story. Moving on.



Our Indonesian maid, Julia, was near the front of our yard, collecting wood or sweeping leaves off the driveway, or some such thing. An industrious, bustling being, is Julia. She always seems to be busily employed doing something, but, to this day, I haven't managed to figure out just what that something is. Anyway, as I was saying, Julia was in the front part of the yard, and therefore she was the closest one to the Big Gate.




I espied the two aforementioned gentlemen from my rattan chair, which was quite a long way off from the Big Gate, actually. They were both carrying backpacks--though, to my everlasting regret, I didn't notice whether they were carrying them on the same shoulder or not--and were both about the same height and build, and they were both white...Caucasian, I believe, is the politically correct term.



My house is situated on a hill. Yes, very picturesque and interesting, my sentimental reader. But not if you're on foot, climbing your way to the top in the afternoon heat, hatless and in a long-sleeved dress shirt. There was a light breeze that day, though, if I recall correctly. So, it probably wasn't that bad for them. Oh, yes, I seem to remember their matching ties fluttering slightly in synchronization; or perhaps it's just my lively imagination at work.



However it was, I was fortunate enough to detect their impending arrival as they were still on the crown of the hill, ascending slowly, each holding what looked like a book in their hands. They were obviously from some religious group, bent on spreading their doctrine to all corners of the globe, on a mission to enlighten every unlucky native and heathen that they came across--or pursued, rather.



Without further hesitation, I jumped from my chair and proceeded to hide behind our car. The car, a Pajero, succeeded in shielding me from their otherwise penetrating gaze. I could still peek out from behind the fender without being seen, though. So I happily stayed where I was, leaving everything to Julia's capable hands.



The two strangers accosted Julia, and called her to come up to the Big Gate, which, incidentally, is kept closed at all times, for obvious reasons. Six reasons, actually. All of which came racing down the driveway at full speed, yapping and barking for all they were worth.



My cousin and brother, only now noticing the two closely-shaved gentlemen in earnest conversation with Julia, joined me behind the Pajero, giggling and 'shushing' each other like a couple of 8-year-old schoolgirls.



My younger sister, Daniella, was inside the house, and had come out to see what all the barking was about. We each gesticulated violently at her to keep quiet and to come join us in hiding. When she failed to comprehend our chaotic miming, I dragged her bodily towards the car and whisperingly updated her on our present condition.



Although we could see what was happening clearly enough, we were too far away to hear what was being said. Then, Julia suddenly turned around and called out each of our names in turn, her shrill voice almost drowned out by the incessant barking.



"Kak Lini!" A slight pause as she waited for a reply.

"Kak Bethany!" Again, no response.

"Daniella!" Yeah.

"Boy!" As a last resort.



That remote method of communication proving ineffective, she made her way up the driveway to seek us out, probably a bit puzzled by our sudden disappearance. As she came up to the side door, she saw the four of us crouching behind the Pajero. Using various gestures and hand signals, with liberal lifting of eyebrows and mouthing out of indistinguishable words, we managed to make her understand that we didn't want to meet these two strangers, and that we wanted her to make them go away. Julia dutifully walked back to the Big Gate to get rid of the two gentlemen, in the politest manner possible, of course.



After a short and, for the audience hiding behind the Pajero, muted conversation, the two gentlemen departed as suddenly as they appeared, apparently meaning to harass--I mean, enlighten our neighbours as soon as possible.



Later we asked Julia how she managed to dispatch them so expediently. She said she had informed them that they could not preach their doctrine here, as it was a Malay household. We all looked at her in disbelief. We thought perhaps she was making a joke. Surely they didn't fall such an obvious lie. Why, the entire time they were at the gate, there were six dogs barking at them. A Malay household indeed! At first we were incredulous. Then, when Julia assured us she wasn't making a joke, the funny side of the whole thing kicked in. I haven't laughed so hard in a long time.



Alright, if you aren't a Malaysian, you're probably a bit in the dark here. You see, my international reader, Malays are prohibited by their religion to come into contact with dogs. That means they can't even touch dogs, let alone keep one for a pet. Let alone six.



And so, there it is. My [mostly] true story. With a few literary embellishments here and there. Poetic licence, and all that.

I sincerely hope my little anecdote manages to cheer you up, dear reader. It certainly cheered me up, just by remembering it.

Well, it's that time again, my dear reader. Until next time; parting is such sweet sorrow...or whatever.







Yours,



Figgy the Storyteller

Birthday Girl

Dear Reader,











I'm 18 today. I feel so...young. And unprepared for life. School is a waste of time; it doesn't prepare you for anything. After about 10 years of being spoonfed pretty much everything, you're suddenly expected to fend for yourself in the 'real world'. You're left to battle the raging seas of life, with nothing but your inexperience and all the useless information you've accumulated throughout your years of 'education' to guide you.

There's definitely something wrong with the Malaysian education system.



But I digress. I'm forgetting something. I am not alone. I am not navigating the twisted labyrinth of the adult world without a road map; I have the Ultimate Road Map. I have God on my side.



No, don't roll your eyes at me, my sceptical reader. God really does have all the answers; we just never bother to ask Him for them.



So, my insecurities aside...guess what I got for my birthday present? A shopping trip! [Yay!] Unfortunately, I didn't get to buy any new books. Another day, perhaps. However, I did manage to buy not one, but two new articles of clothing. One shirt and one dress. I also bought some shoes...a pair of black ballerina flats, with a little flower-bow-thingy on the front.



Have I mentioned my love for [obsession with] shoes? Oh...well, in that case: I absolutely love [am obsessed with] shoes! There, I mentioned it. It's really wonderful how a nice pair of shoes can make one forget about one's troubles, isn't it? At least, for a while.



If I had my way, I'd take a whole year off before continuing my education, and do things I would never have had the time or the motivation to do otherwise. Like remodel my room, or take up pottery, or learn how to bake cupcakes, or something.



But what I'm really worried about is the total and complete disappointment I'll face this March, when my SPM results come out. SPM is The Big Exam that every student in Malaysia has to face before they graduate. The one that decides your future. The one that determines whether you are smart and hardworking, or if a career in the academic field just isn't the best idea for you.



I am a smart person. [And modest, don't forget modest!] But I am also an extremely lazy person. I have no stamina whatsoever when it comes to studying. I'll read one page, then fall asleep at my desk. Often, I'll just skip the reading and go straight to the sleeping part, for convenience's sake. I have recently discovered a shocking truth: if you don't bother to study, you won't get good marks. Who knew?



*sigh* All I can do is hope, I guess.



Anyway, I think I've wasted enough of your time, dear reader, with my little cyber-rant. So I'll just say goodbye, adieu, until we meet again...etc, etc.













Yours,







Figgy the Legal Adult