baking up a storm once again

Get all your ingredients ready. Or else- don't even bother baking.

The STAR ingredient. If a recipe does not include vanilla essence, burn it. It's worthless. I promise you.

Cocoa Powder.. Smells amazing. But obviously not as good as vanilla essence.

equal parts of butter with chocolate. 250g each. Oh god. That's not good is it.

cut butter in equal parts..

transfer cut pieces into double boiler to make your sinful batch of melted chocolate

INTRODUCING: MY BEST FRIEND.

Seriously, having one of these babies helps you out in your baking a TON, and also- the product will taste much, much better. :]]]

IMPORTANT: NEVER, EVER add all your "wet" ingredients at once. With eggs, especially, beat each one individually until it is well incorporated into your mix. Ideally, this would create better consistency.

once texture is added to a batter, always "fold" the mixture gently.

indeed, a Baker's Helper. This helps scrape out every little last bit of mix!

leave to cool for at least seven to eight hours. Rest the little brownie baby! DO NOT ATTEMPT TO CUT IT WHILE IT IS STILL HOT. I've tried this, and it was a disaster.

So an hour and ten minutes later..

the brownies are done!

This is the first time I decided to blog in picture format.

I don't know what this is called.

Phlogging?

Haha.

Video blogging= vlogging.

Logic would entail that photo + blogging = plogging/phlogging.

I hate the word logic

I waited till this morning to slice them, and gave the majority to my friend for his birthday.

The remaining pieces were distributed amongst certain commerce students that are preparing for their accounting test, and are sitting for it as I type this blog.

Full marks for my English portfolio piece. Am a happy camper.
If only I could ace the upcoming essays too.

The "easiest" course in university, I am finding the most difficult.

Is something wrong with me?

Or is logic just too hard a skill to master?

Probably.

Let's hope for more A's! In the meantime.

More baking, and more study.

All my love always,

April

bubblegum

This color makes me happy. 

This color. I don't know what it's called. Lilac? 

I have no idea, but it makes me think of that one time I was allowed to chew Hubba Bubba bubble gum and not feel like a total idiot.

This being, last year.

I was at the dairy today, and bought a packet of grape bubble gum.

I've never felt so judged in my life.

The registry person even asked me how old I was.

First, he SQUINTED. Then he asked, "So you are a uni student?"

To that I replied, "Yes I am."

His eyes wandered slowly over to the little mints and 'adult-like' breath fresheners, then slowly back at the packet of gum in my hand.

His eyes then wandered back at me, and he squinted, AGAIN, and then cocked an eyebrow.

I never knew I had the ability to blush, but at that point my skin was burning the color RED, and all I wanted to do was curl up in a hole and die. 

The most depreciating conversation I've ever participated in to date:

Scene: Greenhithe Dairy

Evil Man: "You still like bubble gum...?"

I looked down at my phone.

                                                                                                                                                                  "...yes"
 

Very Evil Man: "So does my daughter."

I smile, trying to be polite.

"How old is she?"

Very, Very Evil Man: "She's turning 7."

I glare at him. I'm so done being nice.

STUPID EVIL MAN: "That'll be $2.30"

Ugh, I am rendered speechless.

In what universe is Hubba Bubba chewing gum limited to age?!

Last I heard- Hubba Bubba makes the world go round.

You know.

If everyone bothered to chew this amazing colorful bubble gum, world peace is definitely attainable! If we all just sat down, and allocated a specific time to CHEW BLOODY PURPLE BUBBLE GUM... *hyperventilates*

I think. I am having some sort of going-back-to-uni-crisis.

I feel old. Not wiser; just older.

Because I cannot get away with things like chewing hubba bubba, and wanting to ride on the merry go round at theme parks instead of that one crazy roller coaster that makes your insides churn horribly.

I wish the job occupation of "PRINCESS" is still acceptable- but it isn't.

Can't I just move to the Buckingham Palace, or as my mom likes to call it, "that fucking palace", and chase corgi's all day long?

Ugh. Them dogs have a better life than I do, I'm willing to bet.

I thought about this a lot today, and god, I am old.

There are many things I wish I have the liberty to do but can't,

and yet- there are so many things which I am allowed to do, and can.

Tomorrow uni continues on. It's only the first half of the first semester of my first year experiencing tertiary education...and in all honesty?
I hate it.
The people there are lovely. My god, the people are amazing.
But the workload is a bitch, and gunning for that stupid A+ is like ...
Hmm. What's a good example...

Squidward trying to play the clarinet and just NEVER being good at it. Ever.
That's a brilliant example.
Except- Squiddy thinks he's brilliant at music and art. 
I acknowledge the fact that I generally am talentless all around.
With that in mind- I don't do anything about it.
I'm a lazy, bubble-gum chewing, pyjama- wearing 18 year old that still babies up to her brother for free car rides into town.
I am a disgrace to this generation.

I've finished the pack of bubble gum.
My jaw is really sore.
But after a huge pot of green tea, I lit my bubble-gum scented candle, and allowed it to relax me as I watched the latest episode of the Mentalist.
Ahhhh.. Patrick Jane, Marry Me. Please. 

I have to get up at 6AM tomorrow.

To cut up the brownies I made for my friend's birthday.

Also. To take a shower, do something with the hair on my head, and get ready for class at 9AM.

I can't complain. People have class at 8AM. How do they do it? I struggle with 9AM, and I used to get up at 5 every morning in Japan and sleep at 12.

Maybe that's why I was sick all the time.

And very acne-y.

I'm looking forward to my trip at the end of this year.
I can't wait to go to England! Especially since I'm going on my own too.
This time- not for educational purposes whatsoever.
Just going because I have always wanted to ride a red double decker bus.
Plus, it is my lifelong dream to make a phone call back home via red telephone booth. ^_^
I dream big.

I think I can also stalk Prince William and Kate! =] It will be AH-mazing. 
My mom is really obsessed with the royal couple at the moment. She's stalking them via E! and CNN. 


I mentioned my mom twice in this blog entry.
 
Oh god. 


I really am a fail 18-year old. 

All my love always,

April

five random things

Do you know the cool thing about oranges? 

...just about everything. 

 

Not only do these things taste great, they smell amazing too.

I have a habit of sniffing the orange before I decide whether to eat it or not.

Indulging in this citrus-y goodness makes me realize that oranges will definitely, and always be tastier than apples.

It's so unfair that people overlook the simple fruits nowadays.

Bananas. Apples. Oranges. 

It's okay, guys. April still loves you ^-^ 

 

To eat, or not to eat..

When I was little, all I wanted to be was Princess Ariel from The Little Mermaid.
I still secretly want to be Ariel- that long red hair, her large eyes, the fact that she's a freaking half-fish human thing and still REALLY HOT...
She's got it going, that girl.

Oh Eric.

I was thinking about how romantic it was for Ariel to sacrifice her lovely voice, risking it all for a random guy.

Sure, this guy is like sex on a stick... Oh now I get it ;)

But if only the girl learned to write.

It's her fault really. Actually no, it's her daddy's fault.

If she had learned to write, and if an education system in Atlantis existed, Ariel would never have had to go through the hassle of going through the evil octopus queen. What was her name again? Can't remember.

Nevertheless- I want a Prince Eric. 

Someone that would remember me just by the sound of my voice. Someone that would love me just because of it...

*sigh*

Only in Disney.

(500) Days Of Summer

51 times watched and counting. 

A picture can speak a thousand words,

and I can't say anything other than...

I hope, for the dear life of me,

that I'll find someone to share my innermost thoughts, dreams, and fears with.

(Be it in pj's and on a bed, with great lighting and a camera crew hoarding the room.)

NEOPETS

Growing up in an Asian family, the proposal of having a real animal living in your house is not a good one.
In fact; it's frowned upon.
The questions "why", "how", "are you stupid", will always come up in a conversation when trying to convince one's parents to let you have a stupid goldfish, if not a dog.
So my brother, in an attempt to console me, introduced me to the world of Neopets when I was at the tender age of 9.

I adopted three pets, and despite them being mythical, and completely cyber like creatures, I was extremely attached to these pets.
I was also not very tech-savvy back then, and not too good with any sort of computer games apart from "Makeover Barbie".
I do not know why I am admitting this for all public scrutiny, but...
Tears were literally flowing down my face when I had to give up my poor Flotsam up for adoption.
A lack of neopoints and skill in the gaming world led me to the starvation of two neopets and the abandonment of another.
It still haunts me.
Not really. But it was a time in my life where I realized I cared way too much, and over the silliest of things.

And I especially thought about the term, best friend.
Growing up, I definitely had a few friends in my life that I still consider important and special to me.
Even though we do not talk anymore, I do not think that the present lack of communication today makes what we shared in the past any less special.
Is the term 'best friend' really all that fair?
It's almost awful to think that all your other friends come second best, or perhaps, they are not valued as much as your 'best friend' would be.
Guaranteed, you would have better friends than others, friends you talk to more, friends you share with more, friends that just happen to know your every little quirk- and love you anyway.
Would that define them to be the 'best' out of all your friends, then?

I don't think I have a best friend.
I have many good friends, but not a single person would stand out to me as the 'best' one.
Usually when I'm in a relationship, that person will then be my 'best' friend.
Just because they are the most important person to me at that time.
I also spend the most time on them, think about them the most, and prioritize that one person above everything else.
If the amount of time invested in that one special person could equate into cash, I'd be a bloody billionaire by now.
Which is actually quite bad. But I can't help it.
After all.

What is love,

if not just a friendship set on fire?

So with all these silly and unnecessary thoughts in my mind,
my Easter is going by rather chocolate-less and lonely.
But I've finished my History and English assignments.
So I am happy.
Ish.


All my love always,

April

No you are mistaken, my silly imaginary blog readers, I am not learning French.

If you are wondering, however...

liberté, égalité, fraternité 

is in fact the national motto of the lovely country of France.

It's origins are from that of the French Revolution; and if you do not know anything of this time in European history, with all due respect, you are a twat.

I'm struggling to read a billion sources about the various viewpoints of the origins concerning the revolution.

I do not understand why there are so many different ideas surrounding the reason as to WHY there was a revolution. 

Point blank, there was a damn revolution. It changed the social framework of France. 

Whoop Dee Doo. I do not know how to write an essay...! 

These past scholars should stop having opinions about everything. 

It'll make my assignments a heck of a lot easier. Really. 

It's due soon. 

I'm doing jackshit.  

I wish I picked a less interesting essay to write about, really. Consumer Goods. Gender vs Culture. Something like that. The French Revolution's too broad a topic for 1500 words. GAHHHH.

On a less boring note. I would hope so, anyway.

Here's some math for you. 

Equation for Procrastination

making Katsudon (japanese fried pork with egg type dish thing)

+

one of the sweetest birthday gifts! Thank you; lovely read

=

absolutely no productivity whatsoever. 

sigh.

I need to focus. 

The winter is getting to me. Hibernation should not only be limited for animals like polar bears.

All my love always,

April

sixth sense

To some extent I think we all have a sixth sense.
Or to put it in more scientific terms, we have "extrasensory perception".

A sixth sense.
Last I know, we have five senses.
We were all taught these five senses from young, and even now, if we were to lose one of these five senses; life would prove difficult.

Sight.

Hearing.

Taste.

Smell.

Touch.

We are more aware of our ability to see and hear.
To taste, smell, and touch somehow do not appear as significant.
I don't know why, but that's just my assumption.

Imagine life without being able to see. I guess this is the most morbid of thoughts.
When asked, "would you rather be blind or deaf"
Most would answer with, "deaf", of course, "it's more convenient to be able to see, surely."
However it's been known to be the most loneliest of disabilities.
The ability to see your world, but not hear it.
I guess the cliche term, "to stand in a room full of people and feel completely alone", might not be so apparent to you until you have lost the ability to hear, to listen, to soak in all the wondrous sounds we take for granted today.

I'm not saying being blind is easier than being deaf.
I'm merely just saying that they're both equally as terrifying, and I cannot help but respect those whom do not possess the ability to see/hear, and still get on by with life.
Because if I was put in that compromised position- I doubt I'd be brave enough to press on with a thing called life.

So.What is a sixth sense?

If we are all known to have five senses, a sixth sense would appear to be almost superhuman.
For one to possess more than the standard amount of senses? It's unnatural.
Why? And more importantly, HOW?

A sixth sense is almost an instinct of the mind.
It isn't sensed physically, but emotionally, mentally, and as we all known it to be commonly referred to, "in my gut"
In extreme senses, you'd claim to be psychic.
However, in this case, I think not.
It's simply just knowing that something isn't right.

So what is it about this instinct that I find so peculiar, that drove me to blog about it on an Easter Friday morning, curtains drawn shut, the only source of light being that of my laptop screen?
The feeling of utter dread and fear.
Fear of the unknown.
Although my gut instinct, my sixth sense, my extrasensory perception is telling me the inevitable emotional tsunami that is about to hit is approaching nearer, and nearer...
...I still struggle to act upon it. 

I've sensed it before.
The reason for this is always from an external source.
And sure, you can't foresee the things that are coming at you, but it is the manner in which you handle these disasters in life that makes you stronger.
At the time of disaster, though, you're not thinking about strengthening your own character.
You're not thinking about handling the situation positively.
You wallow. You sit there, and wallow, because the idea of moving on is just too scary a thought. 
Why would you move on? How would you move on?
To answer the latter question, one must find the reason as to 'why', and trust me.

You will find all sorts of reasons as to why you shouldn't, blocking out the one, but clearly important reason as to why you should.
I can probably write a thesis on why I shouldn't move on.
But there's a reason. 
There's a small reason, and although small in words, it is huge in meaning, just like those few words, we all "say too much but not enough", I. Love. You.
The reason why I should eliminate all the other million combinations of words I string together. and define to be "alternative ways I can just sit here and wallow"... in a vain attempt to convince myself that yes, I do not need to move on.

So somehow, once again.
This feeling is all too familiar.
I know it's coming soon, and yet I sit here.
A coward.
Too scared to embrace it, and I'm just waiting for it to all crumble down into pieces.
Sooner or later, those pieces I once knew to be a lovely piece of art, will turn into dust.
Not even a memory. It's just all nothing.

Because it's ironic how that one person that can be your everything can also become ...nothing.
And like us all romantics out there, we do not let that happen too quickly.
Which in turn, hurts us even more.

I am being awfully vague in this post; and for good reason.
So that when I come back here in the future and click on this link; I will not be able to recall the real reason behind the reason I wrote this blog.

raison d'être écrite

it doesn't get prettier than that, I don't think. 

I will come back here and be reassured that there was a time where I had felt like, well, shit, and found a way to deal with it.
I'll keep writing, and keep sleeping, and wallowing.
Because one day, I'll miss the sunshine.

And then maybe, just maybe.

I'll follow my gut instinct and move on.




All my love always,

April

a beautiful thought

 I wish the world was flat like the old days

Then I could travel just by folding a map

No more airplanes, 

or speed trains, or freeways。。。

There'd be no more distance 

holding us back.

今までありがとう。お世話にするのはすごく楽しかったです！

お世話になっても、ありがとう。

今まで、今から、忘れないように。

Love to all my Japanese friends that left for home.

Love to those that I've said goodbye to,

I really miss you all.

April. 

lyrics by Death Cab for Cutie 

eggs and bunnies

To all the founders of tertiary education:
Stop using the word, "break", or "holiday".
Really. It's misleading, and you're not entitled to use a word so liberally.
I have three assignments due the first week back after the holidays, 
and several tests awaiting me second week back.
In what way, and on what universe, would reading primary sources regarding the French Revolution be a vacation, you tell me.

Today marks the start of the Easter holidays! "Mid-term semester break"
I love it how they mixed both the English and American version of that word.
Term? Semester? Bleurgh.
Either way; still terrible.

looking at this alone gave me diabetes. All my love to a certain gentleman from up north :]

This Easter, I will be eating my chocolate and studying like crazy.
There is nothing relaxing about that, because even eating chocolate will turn into an attempt for me to stress release.
No longer is chocolate a sinful yet delightful treat in which I can know what a marriage of nothing other than pure agape love tastes like in food form.
No longer is it something I eat when I just 'feel like it'
It's now just my alternative to binge-drinking and crying.
A healthier option, I would think.
My waistline begs to differ.

The first half of Semester One has been a ton of fun.
From inappropriate photos, doodling, and the occasional (if not ever increasing) skipping of lectures, I am finding uni life rather enjoyable.

Although the work does pile on, and after having a meltdown in the library basement toilets about Philosophy exams, in which questions such as "Mutley has four legs. All dogs have four legs. Therefore, Alex is a dog" are the basis of the test...
I think I can confidently say that freaking out was the very appropriate thing to do. 

I went to go see a Ghibli film to raise money for the disaster in Japan.
Princess Mononoke. 
Watching it for the billionth time still had the same effect if not stronger when I first watched it back in 2007.
An amazing film addressing the conflicting relationships between nature and humans; this movie was made to reprimand all of us for being so careless with our environment.
The plot of the movie is truly a devastatingly beautiful metaphor about our society's selfishness in regards to our planet and I cannot help but be ashamed of the way I am so tactless at times with my actions.
Being an environmental lawyer will never be as urgent until you've seen this film. Trust me.
That, or a Greenpeace advocate. Either or, just reduce your stupid carbon footprint. 

chortle. I'd totally name my kid Skype.

I miss Japan more than ever, and Skype-ING with the most adorable Canadian to ever grace this planet in the early hours of morning today, certainly did nothing other than confirm my affection for that country and all the people I've met in it.

I don't think I'll ever make such long-lasting friendships like the ones I've developed in Japan.
Although we do not talk everyday, and we are separated by this thing called time zones, it's so refreshing and comforting to know that the word "awkward" never comes to mind when re-connecting with a long-lost friend over Skype.

Ugh, I love Skype so much.

found this picture on the internet. Bitch better be kidding if she/he regards that to be long distance. I don't seen a freaking ocean wedged in your way; so stop whining!

 Makes me wonder about how long-distance relationships existed back then.
Take my parents for example.
They didn't even have laptops, nor cellphones.
Still, they managed to keep it going strong for three years before meeting each other again.
That, may be the definition of true love that I once knew but lost along the way.
I don't know. It sounds about right, doesn't it?
Too bad there wasn't any background atmospheric music to support this time period of separation.
Otherwise; I can obviously write to the editors of Oxford Dictionary and tell them that the definition to love is not,

"An intense feeling of deep affection"

But is actually this:

"Refer to April Wong's parents"

Oh. Before I forget.
Look at this white chocolate truffle.
Seriously. Life isn't fair. I want to breathe these babies for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

I nomnomnom'ed them down the second I tasted how good it was.
Must. Go. To. England. To. Buy. Truffles! :]]]

All my love always,

April

all hail the mighty pie chart

 

I think the graph above speaks volumes on the length of my attention span.

Today I did however manage to be somewhat productive,

and finished my paraphrase on the Levy book about Female Chauvinist Pigs.

It's an enlightening read.

I am not sure if this is a more effective way to blog. 

Short and sweet, because if I ramble on for any longer,

I run into risks such as getting over-emotional and attached to pie charts.

I wish the resolution in my pictures taken from my camera 

could somehow translate just as beautifully into this blog entry.

Not only that, I also wish that this blog website would somehow change their interface a bit more.

Perhaps it's time for a change?

Before I go on to ponder the design layout of my insignificant blog,

I shall contemplate upon rugby politics and fishes in the sea.

If I do not blog for a week or so following my law test tomorrow, 

you can all safely assume that I am indeed dead.

Causes of death are  most likely:

A: Struck down by Parliament and all their Sovereign power

                                                  B: Losing cool in the exam hall.

All my love always,

April. 

megadoodle

I had this dream last night that my hands fell off.
What a way to start the week.
But April, you say, dreams aren't real.

No disagreement with you there.
However I must point out that the only reason why I would dream that my hands did in fact, fall off, is because my poor subconscious brain is too aware of the fact that I will be over-using my hands this week.

In fact, my carpal-tunnel syndrome hands are now officially in so much pain,
that I cannot possibly begin to fathom carrying a laptop and all my junk up Albert Park this morning
.

Carry a backpack?

No. I refuse to. 

Aside from nonsensical ramblings about dreams and the like,
I will show you all I've accomplished for the day.
I am tempted to skip my lectures this morning because to be honest, I just can't. Be. Fucked. Anymore.

Instead, join forces with me and let's ponder on the meaning of life.

Arm yourselves with sharpie pens and paper.

" Wear your heart on your sleeve"

A very dangerous thought, this one.

Unfortunately I do too much of heart wearing on not only my sleeves, 

but I will somehow manage to hold my heart out on a yard stick and thrust it in your face upon first meet.

I will correct this soon.

Love Links Us Together

Just had this random thought in my head wondering how I could convey the words link and love together.

Obviously by translating the image of "link" (to then I think of chains, ropes, string...)

with the text "love" could I create an "megadoodle". 

The "megadoodle" is exclusive to only the fine stylings of malaysian/chinese girls
whom are procrastinating to go eat a large bowl of SpecialK.

It's really nothing Special to begin with anyway.

My mom just walked in and sighed at me.

Oh I'm selling fruit aren't I.

All my love always,
April

my first A!

note: the author would appreciate it if you restrain yourselves from wondering why she takes pride in such a trivial looking piece of shit.
She is only proud of this because she scored an A for her first ever assignment! :)


assignment: a narrative piece ranging from 500-600 words describing an event that changed you. Worth 10% of your grade. 

I took things for granted. Not until I started heaving all my unfortunately oversized bags onto the conveyor belt, all the while exchanging Japanese greetings with the lady behind the counter, did I realize the gravity of what I was about to do. I can still remember staring at my boarding ticket the way I used to stare at math problems back in high school. I glare stubbornly at the information printed on the ticket. I’m somehow unconvinced and in denial that Auckland is my final destination. Time has cheated me for the past 10 months. 

I haven’t had enough time to enjoy this country, rife in tradition and culture. 

Then again; it’s never enough.

The airport is my hell on earth. The departure gate in particular, is a breeding ground for hopeless romantics whom maintain their relationships by juggling time zones. Their ultimate goal consists of bonding with flight agents over the cheapest flights available every holiday season. I’m not sure if it’s more brave or cowardly.

Going abroad for a year, you face many challenges. Sure, you may struggle with the language, the culture, and even the food. Fermented beans that smell like old socks, anyone? However I remain certain; the largest hurdle you face is learning how to say goodbye. 

Watching people you love leave and in turn, leaving the ones you love behind are equally torturous. I guess it was in my masochistic nature to send my loved ones off at the departure gate each time they would leave for home. I enjoyed, if not craved the sensation of having my heart being ripped from my chest. It’s also quite the adrenalin rush to count down the very seconds to which you’ll never be in this person’s presence again. It’s beyond euphoric.

So now I’m the one standing here outside the Narita Airport Departure Gate, unwilling and torn. I’m ripping my host family’s hearts out by leaving; but do I have any other options? This day; doomsday, has been approaching for months to come. I blank out for a second as I witness the unrealistic scene before my eyes. They are the ones that are crying, and I’m in turn praying helplessly that I can stay for just another day; heck, an hour would suffice. I’ve lost all faith in God, but I find myself bargaining my fate in exchange for believing once again.

The clock is ticking, and the dark future I’ve painted for myself is looming ahead of me. A death sentence looks friendlier than the very thought of stepping foot into Auckland. Japan has built me into the person I had envisioned myself to be prior to my coming here. Why leave, really? What can New Zealand offer me?  This is my home, I plead with God, a knot rising painfully in my throat, let me stay.  

As I embrace my host mom for the very last time, I realize that despite everything, despite the fear of leaving, I can only be grateful for this experience. Not because I’ve learned a whole new language and have made memories that’ll last a lifetime, but because I’ve learnt the meaning of life. 

The most precious things on earth aren’t things that are far away; they are right in front of you. Without treasuring the time you have with the people you love, the meaning of life is lost. This is what I have learned. This is what I will remember, I thought as the tears roll down my face furiously to the roaring sound of take-off. This is what I will be forever grateful for.  

 Hope you enjoyed it ;) 

All my love always,

April

so apparently i'm legal now

If only! =O

 It was my birthday two days ago.
I turned 18. Whoop dee doo.
Do I feel any different? Of course not. It was raining on the day of my birthday.
I really wish I can tell you that my birthday was life-changing, and I felt some magical wings sprout on my back, symbolizing my metamorphosis into adulthood.
Nope. I'm still the self-depreciating idiot I've always claimed myself to be,
and my bumpy start into tertiary education has not contributed to this whatsoever.

I think I've forgotten how to blog. My fingers are somehow pausing awkwardly, hovering over the keyboard as soon as I'm done typing each word, as if I've lost the ability to string a sentence together.
Oh wait. When did I ever have the ability to string a sentence together?

In my journey through university, I've noticed several things about myself.
I claim to be very hardworking and studious, (okay that's a lie, I know I'm not), but I guess it just never dawned on me as to how truly lazy I can get.

 The art of procrastination should be a course in the Bachelor of Arts program. 

No kidding.

I can procrastinate for hours at a time, all the while making silly excuses such as  
"Oh it's awful to start studying at half past, it has to start at the beginning of the next hour...to symbolize...a new fresh start."
See? Us BA students are so pathetic, we can somehow rationalize you into thinking even the impossible.
Or maybe I'm just the one.
yyyyyyeah, its more likely that I'm just the one, isn't it? =/ Sigh. Just when I thought the world had more losers like myself out there in existence!

Did you know, my fellow imaginary bloggers excluding -my mom- because she is very real and she does read my blog (I would like to think she does anyway)...
...that the world IS made out of blue cheese, and that monsters will come and attack you in the middle of the night.
How come the latter of that sentence is valid, yet true at the same time?
On a very tragic note: One never know about those monsters.
Bitches be popping up everywhere you go.

But going back to my previous point of 'starting at the beginning of the next hour thing'...
What does that even mean? 
Why does the time of the day dictate when I can, and cannot study?
Apparently it does. I convince myself to think that 2:30AM is not as efficient as 3AM.
I've also conditioned myself into thinking that I should always start my study at 11:11PM. For good luck.
Wishful thinking is for fools; and of course I am one.

It's when the sluggish afternoon rolls on by, the words 'nap' and 'snooze' pop into your head like Rebecca Black's musical masterpiece, "Friday", that you then succumb to your lowly human needs and close your eyes for a half hour, or five.
What we do with those words, I've noticed, (because I obsess over all the unnecessary things in life), is that when you add the word 'little' to your certain guilty pleasure, it makes it somehow -less- awful.
For example.
"I had a nap this afternoon till 5"
"I had a little nap this afternoon till 5"
The word 'little' somehow indicates a somehow gallant self-restraint on your part.
You could have had exceeded the 'little' factor and gone for the horrible solid 'nap' itself,
but we use language everyday to our advantage.
Not only to communicate to others, but to also deceive our poor little brains into thinking that we're actually noble for taking lazy sleeps in the afternoon to avoid being productive.

I promise you this applies to almost -anything-
Try...Cake.
"I had a slice of cake because I craved for some."
"I had a little slice of cake because I craved for some."
See? It truly does apply.
If all else fails with my law test this Tuesday, I will be confident to say that I can publish my findings of the word 'little' and its big significance in boosting our self esteem everyday. =]
When you wake up in a pool of your own dribble, you are then filled with self-disgust as you realize the hours in which you were indulging in sleep could have easily been used for blogging, or maybe doing some study.
Although let's face it.
In terms of urgent, need-to-accomplish now sort of things; my blog has top priority.
To be very honest, I've missed blogging like anything.
Not a day has gone by where I didn't wonder at how uni  life has robbed me of my time to self-indulge in my stupid and trivial complaints about important social issues like...
how my toothpaste isn't as minty as I hoped it would be. Stuff like that.

It's become a part of me, and I can't imagine doing anything else that would make me as self-fulfilled.
Holy shit I'm a selfish cow. XD

I guess blogging for a year in Japan has really cultivated the habit.
Unfortunately it takes time, and effort, so forgive me for not posting as regularly as I used to.

When night rolls on by, Facebook is spread out all over your screen, and thus begins the very delicate and cultivated skill of stalking your friends' photos, statuses, and dare I say it, relationship status, all to your own sickening delight that you know everything there is to know.

harry looks really intimidating and stalkerish in this photo. Perfect. =]

Today I was discussing the Invisibility Cloak to my family over dinner.
Obviously I would argue that the cloak is indeed a useful tool to our society if it ever were to come to our existence.
My mom then pointed out that it would definitely work to a stalker's advantage, and proved too dangerous for common everyday use.
I then pointed out that Facebook is our Invisibility Cloak.
We stalk, we stare, and we are completely invisible to the person that we are currently researching on.
I also pointed out that my mom herself was quite the active stalker of my own Facebook account during the months I had stayed in Japan.
She'd used to question me about certain status updates and photos. Whoops for all the innuendo unintentionally used. ^-^

My conscience keeps reminding me that I'm a stalker.
Instead of this negative word 'stalk', let's use 'invest'.
So we invest in all these friends of ours without their knowing, right? So how is that different?
Perhaps JK Rowling was using this as a metaphor for our society today.
Probably not.

I know all you most likely gathered out of the last 50 or so words were "why are they discussing Harry Potter at the dinner table?"
And to that; I am rendered speechless.
Also, I think I am going to stop writing about my mom. Is that a bit creepy? Sorry.

So apparently, I'm legal now.
I didn't have a party, but I'm very obliged to have one this weekend.
Although the anti-social side of me is gradually overpowering the extrovert in me, and the urge to feel sorry for myself and indulge in tubs of strawberry ice cream, all the while watching terrible documentaries about capitalism are somehow at an urgent need to be fulfilled... I guess I should throw a party and celebrate my ability to get shit face drunk and regret all decisions made the next day.

So. I think this is called for.

Steps on how to being the fail-est 18-year old there ever lived: Volume One

Step One: Study on your birthday
Not only should you study, write practice essays. Read about Rugby related political issues.
In fact, do that English assignment while you're at it.
Female Chauvinistic pigs in our society today, and translate into screenplay. What's not to love really?

Step Two: Do not have any alcohol.
Yes, you're legal. But don't celebrate this by drinking any alcohol whatsoever.
Green tea would suffice. Heck, have cereal.

Step Three: Rely heavily on the amount of birthday wishes you received on Facebook as a source of how many friends you have in real life.
What you can do on your birthday, is invest in these friendships. Go ahead and scroll down your page, and 'like' the comments that seem to have extra thought put into it.
"Happy birthday" should not suffice in this case. "Happy birthday, and HAVE AN AWESOME DAY!"
See, now that's thought. Go 'like' that comment. That's true friendship.
Especially if they have kisses and hugs to follow that comment.


Step Four: Refer back to Step Three
Facebook invest in your friends for the remaining of the night, and feel sorry for yourself.
It's good to discipline yourself and "study" on your birthday.
Not just any birthday, particularly your 18th birthday. ^0^

On a completely unselfish note, my parents did cook a hell of a dinner for me,
and I did get many presents from my friends at uni and family.
My presents from Japan were also flooding in from host families and friends.
It's lovely to know that despite all that's happened, they still have a heart big enough to remember my birthday.
So, thank you all for making my birthday a very interesting and memorable one!

Also.
Besides fucking up an online multi-choice test that consequently forced me to think about dropping out of uni and selling fruit on the sidewalk, I got an A for my English narrative. =]
I think I will later post it as a reminder that if all else fails, at least I have that one assignment that scored an A. Probably my only A to claim this semester though. :( how awful.

The only reason I was cut back on an A+ was because of my use of punctuation.
Yes- to that particular person that pointed out my over-use of semi colons, you have the permission to say, "I TOLD YOU SO BITCH" in the comment section below.
Or. Alternatively, you could shout it at your screen and laugh sadistically
The comments on this blog would sit at a till of 0 and counting for eternity.
=] whichever you choose, I am aware that I abuse semi-colons. I can't help it, okay.
They are so cute. It's like a full stop and a comma can't quite make up its mind on what it wants to be, and then they had a baby and out popped a semi colon. ^-^ eeeeee. Creativity.
http://aprilxiaoyunnwong.blogspot.com/2011/04/my-first.html (for those of you interested in reading it!)

So I will cut my blog post rather short this evening.
Will watch the Mentalist.
Dead people. Wooo.

All my love always,

April