... About Popularity.

I'm getting used to this whole idea of having many followers follow my blog.

... About The Future

Second semester in and university applications are starting to pile up. I have been going through some universities and honestly, I have my heart set on Leeds and Kent. So here's to working towards the future. Can you believe it's that time of the year already? I remember seeing my sister and her friends in college, going on road trips and studying for their AS. She did exceedingly well for her AS and I remember thinking, "That's going to be me in five years." Well it has been five years now and here I am; in college and studying for my AS and A2. Isn't it funny how time makes a fool of us all? One minute he has us wishing to travel forward into the future and before we know it, we're there - just not how we imagined we'd go forward into the future. 

Second semester in and already so many things has happened since my last blog post. I honestly think I'm not cut out for blogging, but vlogging wouldn't make much of a difference. Often I dream of traversing Europe and writing my observations down into a little notebook but somehow I'm not sure if jotting down my thoughts is going to happen. Oh well. 'Til next time.

Thin Lynn has thunk.

... About English Literature.

As I have once said, "English Literature puts the 'anal' in analysis and the 'screw' in scrutiny" (or rather screw-tiny!). But before I can carry on with the point of today's post, allow me to apologise for going MIA for the past three months (or was it four?). Can you accept this photo as a token of my sincerest apologies?

You WILL accept this photo as a token of my sincerest apologies.

Anyway, back to English Literature. I'm taking English Literature for my A-Levels, and if there's one thing to be said about Lit : it's not the flipping same as what we did for SPM in high school. In high school, where students were given a choice between reading the shittiest play in existence or having your creative soul crushed by mark schemes (personally, I would have gone for the thumb screws) , this is a whole new ball game. Back in high school, we read this children's book called 'Step By Wicked Step'. It wasn't a bad book, really (save for the bit where there was this baby named Dumpa. Up 'til today, I still will never forget the fictional baby's misfortune of being given a name as such) but while schools everywhere had 17-year-olds reading George Orwell or John Steinbeck, Step By Wicked Step was meant for six-year-olds. Being the pretentious pseudointellect that I try or claim to be, this is clearly beneath me. For one thing, we were expected to memorise values and morals from the book, recitable characteristics and such but English Lit in A-Levels is ... unbelievable, to say the least. We analyse everything we could get our hands on; to the point of my teacher telling us that the glasses used in a play symbolises the main character's preference to submerge herself in hazy blurry disillusionment rather than clear harsh reality - that's what the play was all about, really : disillusionment. But the depth someone has to go to just to get an A* is intense, because figuring out all that from just a pair of glasses is ... deep. If it went any deeper, it would have dug a hole straight to China. I enjoy it a lot, though, because it gives me a chance to showcase and nurture my more mature and critical side. Kidding. I'm there because some of the books we study focus heavily on sex and I've gotten pretty raunchy a fair few times just from reading it. Also, by taking English Lit, I feel like some pompous twit who reads. There is something about analysing text that has turned me into a snob of sorts - like I get this annoying feeling of superiority (the same kind of feeling that comes after watching a French film or The Artist) whenever I tell my friends that I take English Lit. Of course, this feeling also comes with questions that it's a soft option and that Lit takers spend all day reading. 

Someone get me a monocle and a swordcane, please?

Thin Lynn has thunk.

... About Procrastination and Broken Promises

Especially broken promises. There's just too much happening since I first began my new life here in college! Friends! Lessons! Teachers! The sky's the limit! Of course, by this point I'm very absolutely sure that none of you readers out there are believing anything I'm saying. For that, I apologise. I also apologise for the absence of  the promised photos of my most-illuminating Singapore trip. I know it's a Saturday morning as well, and as I have promised to update on Sundays and Fridays, I apologise for bullshitting. 

All remorse aside, I remember telling my friends that bets are on to see how long it would be before I forget about this blog completely. Well, not exactly forget - but procrastination definitely plays a huge role in my absence. Self-deprecating humour would very much be appreciated now. 

Right, so what happened the past few weeks? A lot. That much I can tell you, some unfortunately I do not wish to divulge here in such wide open (read: public) spaces. But first off, let me tell you that some of it has been amazing. Certain events more than others. Like the time I slipped and fell outside the Dining Hall? Larry, Mo and Curly would be so proud of me right then. Nyuk nyuk nyuk. It's true. The good Lord only knows what the college cleans their floors with because this wasn't the first time that happened. Hang on. Let me rephrase that: It wasn't the first time I slipped, but certainly the first time I fell. The first time taking place outside the academic room. It all happened so soon. You think you're late for class, power walk across the tile floors, grab the handle, pull it open and before you know it: you're yelling blue murder and gripping onto the door knob as your body contorts itself in the most awkward of positions. I kid you not, it all happened so fast yet so slow. 

                                        

Nyuk it up, you jerks.

The second time it happened, I had no frigging clue what the heck went on. It took me less than a second before I'm on my back and staring at the ceiling in disbelief while my friend had herself in tears and was doubling up with laughter. It doesn't get any better than this.

Note to college: If you're going to wax your floors or troll your students, please do so with little yellow sandwich-boards. My arm was even sticky upon touching the floor. 

Thin Lynn has thunk.

... About Her First Day.

And some serious procrastination, come to think of it. I'm so sorry, dear readers but Tuesday happened to be the first day of college and so far it has been wonderful. Mainly due to the fact that I haven't started my A-Levels yet. For the past few days, I have been waking up early, forced into jogging like a little bitch and screaming my already screamed-out throat out. It was the most exhilarating feeling ever. I should probably stop gushing about it now lest I should ruin my reputation and act like a sappy wuss. So due to college, I was unable to collect photos of my Singapore trip for your viewing pleasure. I wore my panda hat in some photos and my sister took great pleasure in making cruel jokes and ridiculing me - that's siblingship for you.

Instead of photos, how about I tell you about my college experience instead? I'm not sure if you can call it college exactly, seeing as classes has not started yet but it had been a good week so far. As part of my campaign towards being more responsible, I think I'm doing quite well so far. I have my own keys and let me tell you this : I HAVE NEVER FELT SO GOOD IN MY LIFE. As I'm currently studying in a boarding college, this means I have to stay there on normal weekdays and will only be allowed to go home during the weekends. As such, I have been assigned an apartment (on the ground floor, thankfully - my room mates and I have timed our journey from our shared apartment to classrooms and it took us about 10 minutes of leisure walking. Running would probably take five, but I seriously doubt I have the stamina in me to sprint the whole way) . The basic college apartment consists of four bedrooms, two bathrooms and a hall. Now, the hall has a dining table and each time I come home exhausted from whatever activity the day had surprised me with, nothing gives me greater pleasure than having to walk to the table and throwing my keys on top of it. The metallic jingle-jangle of metal making contact with wood is the first thing I look forward to every time I walk home. Unless you have lived alone before, you will know no other greater feeling than this. There's only one word to describe that feeling : ADULT . Excessive film and TV-watching about successful or the usual not-so-successful people in their 20's has prepared me and had me dreaming about this moment and now I can live that dream. That one dream of walking down the hall, nonchalantly jerking your arm upwards and flipping the keys from your hand to the table. Then you put your bag down on the table, sigh exaggeratedly, sag your shoulders and collapse onto the chair behind you.

That, my friends, is the life of the cool single person as seen on your screens.

This is what adulthood really means.

If there's one thing that worries me about college is it's that people are so sure of what they want to do already. I'm still feeling pretty undecided about I want to do after this and for some reason, it just REALLY worries me that a lot of the other students in my batch have their lives all figured out. University application is going to start really soon (the middle of this year, I think?) and I am so undecided it maddens me. As far as I'm concerned, I'm trying to keep my options as wide as possible so that career applications would be easier. With that plan for now, I guess the only thing to do is to bury my nose in the books (probably for the first time ever) and just get my grades. C'est la vie.

As soon as I can get my photos of Singapore, I'll put them up here. As soon as I can settle down with consistent wifi, actually. It's been a little hectic the past few days and I've been having trouble with the wifi here so things will have to wait awhile. In the mean time, why don't you wait for my Sunday post? I'll try to keep updating this blog on the promised days so as to prevent my very little readers from starting an angry mob to lynch me for broken promises and irregularity.

Thin Lynn has thunk.

... About The Summary of Her Holiday

I was supposed to write out a blog update yesterday, but things got in the way (read: hidden object games. Have you played them before? I am addicted) , so here I sit today in my bedroom at 10:41AM banging this out on the keyboard.

The past few days have been fantastic; Singapore has been fantastic. We did stuff. Loads of stuff. When my friends upload photos of our adventure, I'll steal them or something and put them up here to show to you guys what a wonderful time I had. It was a pretty damn good trip. I think I learned more about travelling from my friends than when I was in Australia. When I was in Australia, I had the comforts of home (literally. I stayed over at a friend's place and her dad would drive us around) but in Singapore, I was completely on my own. Well, NOT entirely on my own, but I had two wonderful people to rely on and learn from! Go on, ask me how to use Singapore's MRT system. Whatever it is, there will ALWAYS be Dobhy Ghaut in the way. Did I spell Dobhy Ghaut right? In Singapore, I learned the true value of money (spending 79 SGD on shorts is not a very wise move and will subject you to mockery about your spoilt upbringings, but the more you know) and again, ask me something about money or money-related. I shall surprise you with my monetary smarts hitherto unknown. Shedding light upon my million-ringgit shorts, I avow to wear them every day like I do now with my favourite ripped khaki shorts until I get my money's worth. If it means not washing them for weeks on end, by the hammer of Thor, I'll do it!

Responsibility is also definitely something I'm going to try to embody within myself. Moments worthy of heart attacks have occurred under my watch. For example, I forgot to lock my locker containing my money and ALL THREE passports. I'm not making light of this or anything, but sweet mother of pearl, if something were to go wrong. Another thing: When you're taking separate flights with your friends, the golden rule is to know each other's flight number. I got my friend's flight number wrong and boy, did hilarity ensue. Straight from a sitcom. I waited at the wrong gate for my friends. Not only that, but I wanted to surprise them by doing something weird so I sat in the chair and posed ala 50's pin-up girl.

How YOU doin' ?

15 minutes and many gawking passengers later, only did I realise something was up and that I waited at the wrong gate when the last person to get off the plane was a hobbling old lady. I waited at C16, but they arrived at D70. You can only imagine the marathon sprint I had to do. By the time we met up, I felt like my heart was about to pop. So there you have it: responsibility, which I lack, will definitely be a huge part of me from now on. Count on it. I'll begin by updating this blog as regularly as I possibly can. Once a week? Twice, even. The possibilities are endless!

So many thrills and spills have been shared between the three of us in the five days of travelling together. Am I eager for more? You bet your boots, babydoll. If you girls are reading this: We're still on for Bandung, right?

Thin Lynn has thunk.

P.S. I realise that there are no pictures here. Forgive me, but I do not want to spoil the surprise that is to come as soon as I can steal pictures from my friends.
P.P.S. Had our holiday taken place during the summer months (not that it would make any difference to us Malaysians, but to you four-seasons foreigners anyway) I could've made a terrible pun out of 'summary'. Like 'summer-y'.
P.P.P.S. Sneak previews of my holiday can be found at J's blog, specifically this page: http://panicismymuse.blogspot.com/2012/01/marina-bay-sands.html
Check it out; check her out.

Thin Lynn REALLY has thunk.

... About Russia

Apparently, my blog is popular (in nouveau blogger terms) in Russia. I'm going to pour myself a glass of vodka to honour our fine Slavic friends.

Thin Lynn has thunk.