You know, the Internet is a depressing, mind-numbing place I'm not fond of hanging out at, where the medium-is-the-message caution is no longer what's important. If you're 17 and have had a year's worth of GP lessons. So spending less time gazing at a monitor is my resolution. So less blogging. Ha! Reasons. I just feel nauseous every time I reread my last entry.
It's a swotting, running-about holiday, where one spends quiet days eating pretzels without the dip, filling in printer-distorted music scores, responsibility homework, outwitting the rain and writing poetry about ducks. I can't imagine Chun Wee dog-sitting. Hahahaha. Sorry. It's a very funny image. (Funny as in haha, not as in weird.) You mean you don't have an aversion to animals? !!! Oh yeah, cockroaches are insects. (Can you get a tagboard, Chun Wee?)
Han's Bandfest performance was not bad, though it got me thinking about the merits of week-long camps for some people. Some people. CAP, the genius camp in The Lovely Bones. When it's assumed you'll find fast friends among people with similar interests? It's an assumption to whaddyacallit extent.
I'm terrified I'll wake up tomorrow morning and realise it's time to go back to school. Cheers Mel, your exams are over!!! Do cartwheels in the garden to celebrate. 6 more days...
I'm weary of grey weather and inconsiderate neighbours who fumigate their areas and ours in the process with poisonous, choking white gas.