From the 25th to the 27th. In no mood to think of a better title.March 27, 2009 at 8:18 am | Posted in Thoughts | 1 Comment
Tags: ATC, BAC, LAN, Sri KL, Wayne Morrison
Well. On Wednesday (25/3), I came home and wasted time as I always do. And then it started to rain. Didn’t give much thought to it at first, but when it started to sound as if a herd of schoolboys were throwing marbles at my roof from a 747 hovering impossibly overhead (because we all know that a 747 is a jumbo-jet, and anything with the word jumbo attached to it wouldn’t be capable of hovering/floating/etc). Went outside and was greeted by a pleasant sight- it was raining little drops of ice, tiny little pieces of frozen acid rain. Picked one up and took a photo of it, and got slightly drenched in the process- I’m not going to upload it, however- it’s too blurry.
Someone suggested that we take a class photo- I don’t remember who. I mean, I did ask whose suggestion it was, but I forgot what the answer to my question was. Anyway we managed to pull it off quite well. Ahem. Of course, I didn’t do anything other than stare abjectly at the camera, wherever it was (had my glasses off, of course). Left the shouting and screaming to the rest. We’re supposedly the laziest, most reticent class in the college- a fact that was probably established by our minimal presence during the various college-organized events. Here’s one photo where everyone happened to be looking at the cameraman at the same time:
About a week before the photo-shoot, I was asked, alright, commissioned sounds a lot more fancier,doesn’t it? Commissioned to design a shirt for our class. I wasn’t really confident of my drawing skills, which fluctuate between that of Raphael and that of an intoxicated monkey depending on my mood and luck, so I told her (Who? She who commissioned, me, duh) that it might be best to find someone else just in case. The only problem, as I realised on the day of the shoot- no one accepted the job. Mine was generally liked by those who reviewed it, I suppose, but apparently it would cost too much. Simplicity is the word- now I’ve been asked if I could come out with a logo instead.
Here’s the failed design- I wouldn’t have bought it anyway, as they’re planning on it being a polo tee. Which means a short-sleeved tee with collars, something like my old Sri KL orange tee. There’s no telling how much I hate shirts like that- never will I wear one like that- unless I cut off the collars…
Took a bus to Brickfields to get my LAN cert. There’s this thing about law colleges- you can’t pronounce LAN as you would for the abbreviation of ‘Local Area Network’, due to the existence of Land Law. So they get around any possible confusion by pronouncing it as ‘lahn‘. In text form, it looks German. It isn’t. And it sounds bad when you say it out. Now this is completely (Well, not really) unrelated, but say it to anyone who speaks Cantonese…
Turned out that the guy I was supposed to meet was invigilating- until 5pm. And when I called him the day before, he’d said that I could go see him before 5pm. Pure genius. And outside, it started to rain. Heavily. Things weren’t all that bad, though- I did meet up with a few ex-classmates, mostly from the English Literature circle. Had the second photo-shoot of the day…
Quickly left the place around 6~ish before attracting further undesired attention. Next class was at 6.30 with Wayne Morrison once more. We did some exercise where we had to grade two essays written by students. The first one was the bad one, and the second one was the good one. I decided not to fail the first one on the basis that although it was the answer to another question, it did have some relevant points here and there, and the dimwit who wrote it could have linked it to the question- there was something there, that was for sure. I gave it a bare pass. As for the second one, which was supposed to be wonderful (for the examiners), I didn’t like it. Maybe it was because the English was precise but droll, compared to the first one where I had to decipher what it was saying. Whatever. I guess this means that you’d better hope that you don’t have me as your examiner. If I ever deign to become one, that is. And something would have to go terribly wrong for that to happen.
How to end this post? With a scream? A yelp of joy? How about a silent moan of pain? I bit down on my ulcer while munching on cheese bread. The pain was astronomical. That sounds rather cheesy. And the pun was intentional. Anyhow, it hurt, but I didn’t shout out. Mainly because the pain was coming from my mouth. I can’t shout from my mouth, of course. Worse was to come- the ulcer ballooned in size. I told myself that if it didn’t heal soon I would simply refuse to open my mouth to speak until it did. No need for that, luckily- I tried coating it with salt, as Jeanie suggested, and it worked, albeit partially- the subsequent pain was excruciating, but at least it shrunk. It’s still there, though. Hurry up and go away, damnit… came up with a silly theory in between salt and ulcer. Maybe if I kiss someone, it will leave me for that person? Anyone care to volunteer?